#despicable creature. atone.

[karatekels]

Solar Flare – Prologue

Hey y’all – welcome to the Valek fic that I’ve been wanting to write since all the way back in August of last year! I’ve been polishing up the ideas and developing some new characters (this is my first time writing an OC as a love interest!) as well as looking forward to some returning characters (*eyes Cassandra*), and I’m hoping this will be the fic that gets me back into the writing frame of mind. With that, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: As vampires become a growing problem and the number of Slayers dwindles, the Catholic Church decides to perform another ‘miracle’, attempting to create a weapon that will be able to find the despicable creatures in any and all shadows that they may hide. Similarly to the botched exorcism of Jan Valek, the experimental ceremony that Rose Hanlon undergoes doesn’t go exactly as intended, and she escapes the city with a set of abilities she doesn’t even understand.

TW: [this chapter] relatively vague descriptions of violence and abuse

TW: [for the fic; may change as I write] blood-drinking and other vampirism fun, graphic violence, graphic sex, abduction, abuse, threats

---

Solar Flare

Prologue: Syzygy

---

From the journal of Father Killian…

July 27th, 1998

We’ve received news that yet another team of Slayers has been decimated, torn apart and massacred just north of Sicily. Our numbers are dwindling like never before, and the clergy have become desperate for a solution. The Diaconate of Monteriggioni has spent countless hours researching, trying to determine a solution that will allow us to hold them off while our numbers return; we need more soldiers to wield God’s Light. The Archbishop has granted permission to use any means necessary to fend off these attacks, and their leading suggestion certainly pushes that permission to the limits of His clemency.

It began with research into the Old Rites. After all, the Primogen of their monstrous ilk, Jan Valek, was a result of a misbegotten exorcism – why not pursue a similar avenue to try to atone for the sins of our past? This train of thought led our scholars to a series of old Germanic texts, the eldest of which preceded vampirism by several decades, and to a binding ritual intended for relics. Such a blessing would allow for relics to be traceable should they be stolen, so that we need not live in fear of losing these precious symbols of our faith. It was one of the youngest parishioners that suggested the ritual be performed on a human, allowing them to seek out evil like a beacon and lead our Slayers right to their nests.

The peak of the Perseid meteor shower in two weeks’ time will be the ideal time to perform the necessary rites according to Father Lorenzo. The Tears of Saint Lawrence returning to Earth every summer is already a celestial blessing, and with the shower’s radiant approaching Cassiopeia more than it has in centuries, this will only strengthen the binding of this blessing to its vessel.

All that remains now is to find one.

---

August 10th, 1998

The past days have had Monteriggioni in a frenzy. Staving off attacks, finalizing the plans for the ritual, and finding a vessel… This last step proved by far the most difficult, as they needed to be descended from the Crusaders, grown but not an active Slayer, someone useful for the role but not expendable should things go… awry.

Jeremy Hanlon came to me a week ago with an option, just when we were starting to think that all hope may be lost. Hanlon, a fifth-generation Slayer with both family lines tracing back to the Crusaders, suggested his daughter as the vessel. The young woman, Rose, has long posed a problem within the city’s walls and to her family, rejecting the tenets of our community and refusing to train as a Slayer or to marry a man of similar lineage to continue the bloodline. Hanlon has spent the better part of her lifetime trying to atone for the sins of his daughter, and believes that this opportunity is the road to her salvation as well as our own. Despite the woman’s violent reluctance, we have run out of time to pursue other avenues, and as an unmarried woman, her father has retained custodial rights as is customary with our laws, and has agreed on her behalf.

Fortunately the ceremony is to take place tonight, during the peak of the Perseid shower. The sunset can’t come soon enough; the intensity of her ire rattles the very stones of the vestry in which she is being kept.

---

August 16th, 1998

The ceremony was performed, and we have spent a week with the vessel in relative isolation as Rose continues to be… resistant. At the very least, it has allowed us to gradually determine the success of the ritual and the limitations of her new abilities.

On the second day, we were able to use a captured thrall to conduct an experiment, moving the vile creature into the rooms surrounding her own. Without fail, she was able to detect what room the vampling was located in through a feeling she described as an itch that needed scratching. This bodes well for her intended purpose, and it is expected that a more aged or powerful vampire will elicit a stronger sensation, thereby enabling the Slayers to identify the most imminent threat during a pursuit.

A more serious issue arose yesterday. Rose is compelled to obey a direct command from a member of the clergy, as enforced by the use of certain runes during the ceremony, and this has held true for the most part. She will perform simple tasks and answer questions asked of her as instructed, but it would appear that there was a mistranslation with the runes that has led to her obeying vampires as well. The same thrall used for her previous days’ training was brought into her cell to test Rose’s capacity to destroy the foul creatures. Initially she attempted to fight off the compulsion to serve her purpose and exterminate the abomination, but looked to be conceding until the thrall asked her for help.

We lost three good priests last night; she tore into them like they were made of paper. Her strength and speed have definitely been elevated beyond a normal human’s capacity, though not to the level of the vampiric. There is some concern amongst the Scholars that a vampire would be able to supersede our own commands if they knew it would be effective, but if we can make her amenable to our pursuits, it should not pose a legitimate threat in practice.

In the name of the Father, let her soul settle into this new role, so that she may guide us to our Salvation.

---

August 19th, 1998

She’s gone. Rose has escaped.

The security tapes showed her clearly trying to commit suicide to no avail – she has been made to endure, after all. Furious, she tore a leg off of the bedframe and pounded her way through the hinges on the door. Further cameras had shown her tearing through the halls and disappearing into the catacombs without a trace.

We have sent for one of the strongest remaining regiments of Slayers from their base in New Mexico; they are our only hope of retrieving Rose so that we may make the necessary adjustments to her blessing and stand a chance against the ever-growing threat of the vampiric race.

Not only do I fear for the vessel and what she represents, but for the girl as well. We cannot be certain that we have seen all of her abilities at work, or identified any newly created weaknesses, and she could be in greater danger than she knows. Should a lesser man of the cloth – or, God forbid, a vampire – stumble upon her and learn of their powers of persuasion over her, I shudder to think of what fate might befall her.

Our Lord works in mysterious ways; let this turn of events be a blessing in disguise.

---

Syzygy refers to three celestial bodies appearing in a straight line – In this case, we’ve got Valek, Rose, and Jack!

[eatsyourainbow]

FILMS LIST

Series 13 Reasons Why American Horror Story Breaking Bad Mr. Robot Pride and Prejudice Spotless

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# (500) Days of Summer (2009) 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) 1001 Grams (2014) 13 Going on 30 (2004) 17 Again (2009) 17 filles (2011) 3 Hearts (2014) 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days (2007) 45 Years (2015) 5 Centimeters Per Second (2007) 50/50 (2011) 6 Years (2015)

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A A Brief History of Time (1991) A Brilliant Young Mind (2014) A Cinderella Story (2004) A Lot Like Love (2005) A Man Called Ove (2015) A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence (2014) A Single Man (2009) A Summer Violence (2014) A Walk to Remember (2002) About a Boy (2002) About Time (2013) Across the Universe (2007) Addams Family Values (1993) Adult World (2013) All About Lily Chou-Chou (2001) Almost Famous (2000) Almost Friends (2016) Amélie (2001) American History X (1998) American Psycho (2000) And They Lived Happily Ever After (2004) Anna Karenina (2012) Annie Hall (1977) Anomalisa (2015) Another Earth (2011) Armageddon (1998) Atonement (2007) Away from Her (2006) Away We Go (2009)

B Bachelorette (2012) Bad Teacher (2011) Barney’s Version (2010) Beastly (2011) Becoming Jane (2007) Before Midnight (2013) Before Sunrise (1995) Before Sunset (2004) Before We Go (2014) Begin Again (2013) Beginners (2010) Being Flynn (2012) Ben X (2007) Big Fish (2003) Blue Valentine (2010) Boyhood (2014) Breathe In (2013) Breathless (1960) Brick (2005) Bright Star (2009) Brokeback Mountain (2005) Bruce Almighty (2003)

C Calvary (2014) Candy (2006) Can’t Hardly Wait (1998) Carrie Pilby (2016) Cashback (2006) Catch Me If You Can (2002) Celeste & Jesse Forever (2012) Cemetery Junction (2010) Chungking Express (1994) Citizenfour (2014) City of Angels (1998) Closer (2004) Cloud Atlas (2012) Clueless (1995) Columbus (2017) Comet (2014) Confessions (2010) Cries & Whispers (1972) Cruel Intentions (1999) Crush (2013)

D Damsels in Distress (2011) Daydream Nation (2010) Death at a Funeral (2007) Dead Poets Society (1989) Dear John (2010) Dedication (2007) Definitely, Maybe (2008) Despicable Me (2010) Detachment (2011) Disconnect (2012) Don’t Laugh at My Romance (2007) Donnie Darko (2001) Dope (2015)

E Easy A (2010) Edward Scissorhands (1990) Elizabethtown (2005) Empire Records (1995) Enchanted (2007) Enough Said (2013) Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close (2011) Ever After: A Cinderella Story (1998) Eyes Wide Shut (1999)

F Failure to Launch (2006) Fallen Angels (1995) Fanny and Alexander (1982) Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986) Fight Club (1999) Fish Tank (2009) Flipped (2010) Forrest Gump (1994) Frances Ha (2012) Frank (2014)

G Garden State (2004) Gemma Bovery (2014) Ghosts of Girlfriends Past (2009) Ghost World (2001) Gifted (2017) Girl, Interrupted (1999) Good Bye Lenin! (2003) Good Will Hunting (1997) Grave of the Fireflies (1988) Great Expectations (2011)

H Happythankyoumoreplease (2010) Harry Potter (2001-2011) He’s Just Not That Into You (2009) Heavenly Creatures (1994) Her (2013) Hick (2011) Home Alone (1990) How Do You Know (2010) How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000)

I I’m Not There. (2007) I Am Sam (2001) Ida (2013) I Killed My Mother (2009) I Love You Phillip Morris (2009) I Origins (2014) If I Stay (2014) If Only (2004) In Your Eyes (2014) Into the Wild (2007) I Smile Back (2015) It’s Kind of a Funny Story (2010)

J Jane Eyre (1996) Jane Eyre (2011) Jeff, Who Lives at Home (2011) Jerry Maguire (1996) Juno (2007) Jurassic Park (1993) Just Like Heaven (2005)

K Keeping the Faith (2000) Keith (2008) Kill Your Darlings (2013)

L L’Enfer (1994) La belle personne (2008) Laggies (2014) Last Night (2010) Laurence Anyways (2012) Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004) Léon: The Professional (1994) Les Misérables (1998) Less Than Zero (1987) Letters to Juliet (2010) Liberal Arts (2012) Life Happens (2011) Like Crazy (2011) Lincoln (2012) Little Birds (2011) Little Forest: Summer/Autumn (2014) Little Miss Sunshine (2006) Liv & Ingmar (2012) LOL (2012) Lola Versus (2012) Lost in Translation (2003) Louder Than Bombs (2015) Love & Other Drugs (2010) Love Actually (2003) Love and Death (1975) Love and Other Disasters (2006) Love Me If You Dare (2003) Love Story (1970) Lovers of the Arctic Circle (1998) Lucy (2014) Lymelife (2008)

M Maggie’s Plan (2015) Manchester by the Sea (2016) Map of the Sounds of Tokyo (2009) Martha Marcy May Marlene (2011) Mary Is Happy, Mary Is Happy (2013) Matilda (1996) Mauvais sang (1986) Me and Earl and the Dying Girl (2015) Mean Girls (2004) Medianeras (2011) Memento (2000) Monsieur Lazhar (2011) Moonrise Kingdom (2012) Mozart and the Whale (2005) Mr. Nobody (2009) My Blueberry Nights (2007) My Girl (1991) My Life Without Me (2003) My Neighbor Totoro (1988) My Own Private Idaho (1991) My Rainy Days (2009) My So Has Got Depression (2011)

N Napoleon Dynamite (2004) Never Been Kissed (1999) Never Let Me Go (2010) Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist (2008) Night on Earth (1991) No Strings Attached (2011) Nobody Walks (2012) Northanger Abbey (2007) Norwegian Wood (2010) Now Is Good (2012)

O On the Beach at Night Alone (2017) Once (2006) Only Yesterday (1991) Orlando (1992) Oslo, 31. august (2011) Our Little Sister (2015)

P Palo Alto (2013) Parasyte: Part 1 (2014) Parasyte: Part 2 (2015) Paris, je t’aime (2006) Paris, Texas (1984) Pay It Forward (2000) Penelope (2006) People Like Us (2012) Persona (1966) Petal Dance (2013) Philomena (2013) Prayers for Bobby (2009) Pretty in Pink (1986) Pride & Prejudice (2005) Pulp Fiction (1994)

R Raise Your Voice (2004) Rashomon (1950) Reality Bites (1994) Requiem for a Dream (2000) Respire (2014) Revolutionary Road (2008) Rocket Science (2007) Ruby Sparks (2012) Running with Scissors (2006) Rushmore (1998)

S Safe Haven (2013) Say Anything… (1989) Seeking a Friend for the End of the World (2012) Sexual Chronicles of a French Family (2012) Side Effects (2013) Silver Linings Playbook (2012) Simple Simon (2010) Sixteen Candles (1984) Shakespeare in Love (1998) She’s the Man (2006) Short Term 12 (2013) Sleepwalk with Me (2012) Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) Sound of My Voice (2011) Speak (2004) Spirited Away (2001) Spotlight (2015) St. Elmo’s Fire (1985) Still Walking (2008) Stranger Than Fiction (2006) Struck by Lightning (2012) Stuck in Love (2012) Submarine (2010) Sunshine Cleaning (2008) Sweeney Todd (2007) Sweet Little Lies (2010)

T Tag (2015) Take This Waltz (2011) Taxi Driver (1976) Terms of Endearment (1983) That Thing You Do! (1996) The Art of Getting By (2011) The Black Balloon (2008) The Bling Ring (2013) The Blue Room (2014) The Book Thief (2013) The Breakfast Club (1985) The Choice (2016) The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (2007) The Double (2013) The Double Life of Veronique (1991) The Dreamers (2003) The Edukators (2004) The End of the Tour (2015) The Face of Another (1966) The Falling (2014) The Fault in Our Stars (2014) The Garden of Words (2013) The Girl Who Leapt Through Time (2006) The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) The Great Gatsby (1974) The High Cost of Living (2010) The Host (2013) The Intervention (2016) The Jacket (2005) The Jane Austen Book Club (2007) The Kid with a Bike (2011) The Kids Are All Right (2010) The Kings of Summer (2013) The Last Kiss (2006) The Last Song (2010) The Little Mermaid (1989) The Little Prince (2015) The Lobster (2015) The Long Excuse (2016) The Lorax (2012) The Lovely Bones (2009) The Lucky One (2012) The Notebook (2004) The Odd Life of Timothy Green (2012) The One I Love (2014) The Other Woman (2009) The Painted Veil (2006) The Parent Trap (1998) The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012) The Piano Teacher (2001) The Place Promised in Our Early Days (2004) The Pursuit of Happyness (2006) The Ramen Girl (2008) The Reader (2008) The Remains of the Day (1993) The Road Within (2014) The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) The Science of Sleep (2006) The Secret Life of Words (2005) The Seventh Seal (1957) The Simpsons Movie (2007) The Sixth Sense (1999) The Shawshank Redemption (1994) The Solitude of Prime Numbers (2010) The Spectacular Now (2013) The Squid and the Whale (2005) The Theory of Everything (2014) The Time Traveler’s Wife (2009) The Tracey Fragments (2007) The Tree of Life (2011) The Truth About Emanuel (2013) The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1988) The Virgin Suicides (1999) The Visitor (2007) The Vow (2012) The Way He Looks (2014) The White Ribbon (2009) The Wizard of Oz (1939) The Young Victoria (2009) This Is 40 (2012) This Is England (2006) Three Colors: White (1994) Through a Glass Darkly (1961) Thumbsucker (2005) Tideland (2005) Tiny Furniture (2010) To Kill a Mockingbird (1962) To the Wonder (2012) To Write Love on Her Arms (2012) Toni Erdmann (2016) Trainspotting (1996) Tuck Everlasting (2002) Two Days, One Night (2014) Two Night Stand (2014)

U Unexpected (2015) Uptown Girls (2003)

V Very Good Girls (2013)

W Waiting for Forever (2010) Weekend (2011) Welcome to the Dollhouse (1995) Welcome to the Rileys (2010) What If (2013) What to Expect When You’re Expecting (2012) White Bird in a Blizzard (2014) White Oleander (2002) Why Stop Now? (2012) Wild (2014) Wild Child (2008) Wings of Desire (1987) Wish I Was Here (2014) Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988) Wristcutters: A Love Story (2006)

Y You’ve Got Mail (1998) Young Adult (2011) Yourself and Yours (2016) Youth in Revolt (2009)

[toujokaname]

Tatsumi Kazehaya Idol Story 2

Author: Akira

Characters: Mayoi, Tatsumi

"Cowards are the ones who live the longest. And instead, people like me, who always have a calm and composed look on their face..."

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Content Warning: Contains mentions of drugging.

Season: Summer

Location: Training Room

Mayoi: Fu, fufu ♪ Fufufufufu...♪

Today will be a fun, fun, fun day of lessons with the members of ALKALOID~♪

We had a lesson yesterday, and we'll have another one tomorrow! Until we overcome this harsh situation, day after day after day... I'll be able to see you all! Aah, I'm so luckyyy... ♪

Ahh, you mustn't, Mayoi! You're filling your heart with delusions! You caaan't, you mustn't wish that this time could last for eternity!

Everyone is trying so hard to crawl up from rock bottom! I should be helping them, putting all my efforts into it!

And yet, I want to pull them down, from the depths of darkness...! I want to see those children clinging to me in their miserable circumstances!

Forever and ever! I want us to melt into each other in this lukewarm prison, and be eternally entangled together...!

Ah, I mustn't! This is a despicable, wicked line of thought! But, if things go on like this, I... I'm afraid that one day I really will desire such a future!

I'm sorryyy! Even though everyone else is trying so hard and being so earneeeest!

Mayoi: Fufu, fufufu ♪ But as long as everyone is saved in the end, it's okay for me to make some adjustments, right...? Or at least stretch it out for as long as I can?

Will they forgiiive me, I wonder?

F-First, I'll just add a little bit of "medicine" in the sports drinks...♪

Tatsumi: ...... (Forcefully opens the door and bursts in)

Mayoi: ...Eek?!

Tatsumi: Begone, Satan[1]...!

Mayoi: Gyaaaah?! I'm sorry I'm sorry!

You're mistaken! A sinister idea almost took a hold of me, but it wasn't what I really wanted to do?!

Don't worry, I'll earnestly do my beeest!

Tatsumi: ...Oh, Mayoi-san. Forgive me, I must have startled you.

Fufu. You always arrive at the practice room before anyone else, I admire your enthusiasm.

You have so much talent and ability, it baffles me that you got lumped into the same "underachiever" category as the rest of us.

Mayoi: E-Eeek...! That's because I am a stupid and hideous creature!

Because the root of my rotten heart is determined to dye the future of shining children with darkneeess!

Tatsumi: That's not true. You're quite self-deprecating, Mayoi-san.

In that regard, it would be good to follow the example of the younger generation, such as Aira-san and Hiiro-san.

Fufu. For a while, I once thought of retiring due to my injury...

But when I look at those children, I feel inspired to keep on going.

Don't you feel the same way, Mayoi-san? By working together, we can overcome these trials...

Oh?

Mayoi: .........

Tatsumi: Mayoi-san? What's the matter? Crouching in the corner like that... Are you feeling unwell?

Mayoi: Eeeeek, I'm sorry I'm sorry! I'm sorry for being aliiiveeeee!

Tatsumi: Fufu. It is true that we human beings carry the original sin, and some believe that the very act of being alive is a sin.

However, it's only through living that we can atone for our sins, right?

Just by being alive, and for as long as we live, we are bound to commit sins. But only by living are we capable of redeeming ourselves. Do you understand, Mayoi-san?

Mayoi: Y-Yeees...? I understand, I'll do my best to reform my heaaart!

Please don't annihilate me, I've been converted! I'm not a demon, so please don't kill meeee!

Tatsumi: I won't kill you. We're comrades, are we not?

Fufu. Earlier, I felt something ominous coming from outside the door, causing me to chant a few words of the scripture...

But it seems that Mayoi-san is the only one here. I may have been mistaken.

However. Mayoi-san seems to be acting strangely... So after all, is there really something evil lurking in this room?

Just in case, I will pray to the Lord for His divine protection. O Lord, I implore Thee to purify by Thy power—

Mayoi: Eh, that's not Shinto... Um, Tatsumi-san, are you Christian? Your choice of words seems to suggest that—

Tatsumi: Aah, I am a descendant of the Kakure Kirishitan, the hidden Christians.

Long ago, they used Shintoism as a front, so our church was registered as a Shinto shrine, and there are some lingering remnants of Shintoism in some of our secret rituals and so on.

But nowadays, religious freedom is recognized. The shrine I live in was remodeled several generations ago, so now it looks exactly like a church.

Because of that, I often call myself a pastor, instead of the priest of a Shinto shrine.

Though admittedly, it makes me sound rather suspicious. Therefore, the ominous atmosphere I felt earlier must have been my misunderstanding, since it was something vague and without any religious backing...

So please, don't be afraid. I apologize for saying such strange things, Mayoi-san.

I knew you were a timid person, but I wasn't considerate enough.

Mayoi: R-Riiight... I'm sorry for being so, um, timid? It must be depressing to see me being so cowardly all the time, right?

Tatsumi: Not at all. Cowards are the ones who live the longest. And instead, people like me, who always have a calm and composed look on their face... are the ones who get hit the hardest by unexpected disasters.

After all, carelessness is our greatest enemy.

Let's both look out for each other. The devil is always looking for a chance to exploit our carelessness and openings.

Mayoi: T-That's right! I think so too! Don't worry, I'll always be on my guard so that I don't succumb to the devil's temptatiooon!

Tatsumi: ? Yes, that's a good attitude to have...?

From the bible, Matthew 4:10.

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[officialambassadorfrisk]

yeah we killed her and traumatized frisk. i was hoping you'd be up for properly giving us shit for having done this

...hah. Hahahah! You really think there is any proper atonement?! That any consequences would be enough for what you have done!? Would you even care if I did give you the talking to you want, or is it just another source of entertainment for you!?

You are vile, wretched, abhorrent creatures. You are all absolutely despicable, and I hope that you rot.

[paradisecas]

you know when a dog does something naughty and you gotta do the stern >:[ pointing at the kennel like. get in there and think about what youve done. well i personally enjoy the mental image of michael slinking back from the empty to an adam who, while he is thrilled that michael’s back, is also pissed that he got himself killed in the first place. so he’s doing the stern >:[ pointing at himself like get back in here and think about what you’ve done. i was dead for like, a day and you tried to and the world again.

[thewritepages]

A Dark Heart in disguise.

Outside I praise, inside I hate.

The dark, twisted soul I discovered in me conflicts my angelic persona, detesting the ugly despicable creature hiding in the dark corner of my conscience.

I want to believe that's not me, but I'm hiding the fact that this dark creature I created feeds on my insecurity and the constant urges of seeking validation and respect, atoning for my lonely past.

Today the face you see is the dark soul's true appearance. Today she's dominated over my body, breaking open my solid wall of morality.

~D

[earlgreymon]

Soft summer prompts, number five with Daiken (Daisuke and Ken) if you can :]

🌻 daisuke + ken // [05] watching the fireflies

this is an alternate version of eps 2x25 where daisuke tried to persuade ken to join the group. the setting is after the sunset when the skies darker than the one in anime, so it makes more sense.

___

This boy was surely something, he thought. Asking him to apologize, and then saying that they were all partners.

He figured that he was the most despicable person as Kaiser, harming a lot of creatures in several meanest ways possible, and Ken agreed that this might be the best way to atone his sins. But to join the other five kids, including the one who stood beside him right now, was a completely different story.

“Sorry. Can we leave the ‘partners’ part out?” he asked while gazing at the darkened sky.

“Why?”

“You and I—we can’t be partners.” It felt troublesome to repeat the word; how it sounded so strange as he was never raised in the arms of companies. “It’s impossible. We have different values, and even though I apologized, I think your friends will never accept it.” Especially the boy who once came to hit him in the face and the youngest who always looked at him with such a vengeance in his eyes.

“Anyway,” Ken continued, “I think it’s better if we go separate ways, so thanks.”

“But it doesn’t have to—”

Daisuke halted abruptly as they were interrupted by a faint yellow gleam flying between them. There were one before another two coming right after, and suddenly they were surrounded by a constellation of fireflies flying by the edge of the river.

“Whoa!” A little blue Digimon popped out from a duffle bag behind Daisuke. “What are these, what are these? Why are they glowing, Daisuke?”

“It’s called fireflies, Chibimon,” answered Daisuke. “They’re pretty cool, right? You can only see them in this season, so consider yourself lucky.” He hovered both of his hands over the swarm, looking at how they were slow dancing above his open palms. His lips tugged a tiny smile then, before he proceed to speak.

“You know what, Ichijouji? I think fireflies shine the best when they’re together.”

Ken was taken aback, but Daisuke said nothing afterward, as if he was sure that Ken understood what he meant with the words. The smile was still genuinely there even when Daisuke picked up his bag (Chibimon was still trying to catch some of the bugs on his own excitement) and left. Ken watched as Daisuke’s figure became saturated with the city before looking back at the illuminations while pondering about the goggle boy’s words.

Six fireflies hovered in front of him, creating infinite patterns of glow above the water that amplifying their charm.

Maybe they would be outshining if they were together, indeed.

[awakearcturianparadise]

Nice try...and why did I anticipate, and yet hope, that you would actually use it—and avoid stooping as much as you have—because to use that particular admonition when you should have known that I would be loathe to hear it is simply the most saddening aspect of this experience. And this is where I am supposed to use the human common parlance “you must really think I am that stupid” but as your condescension and continually insulting refrain, the disgusting snd humanly dirtiest excuses busy-ness and its malevolent application in the passive form of ‘indifference towards spiritual principles’ has been a mantra for every session well as pre 1st session phone call is nauseatingly so very anemic as a valid basis of support for mistreating the pupil who lies in proper submissive posture and exposes his belly to the dominant female wolf as a sign of respect, trusting. This posture is not meant to be seen mistakenly as weakness and will humble the teacher in awe of the divine strength of the student.

The teacher, whereby, and duly in gratitude of this honor, accepts this teaching from the powerful and genuine earnest passion of the student to actively absorb and transform the stream of knowledge. The student will soon consume and transform this nourishing data into a desire filled vortex of concentrated emotionally chaotic elementary ingredient. This is to signal readiness for sculpting in guided learning and frictionally heats the IT and sears such creations into place through interactive wavelengths donated through the inner being of both partners in trusted alignment. And the continuation with the upward vibrational cycle, as the other mutually self and other compassionate characters in a transmutation dance. And the teacher as vibrationally in compassionately tending to simultaneously other and self and therein between. and embodied now assumes the role of instructor as a equilibrium flow cycles she is driven dutifully caretaking a sacred conduit of energetic variation. She, mindful of contrast, pursues a collaborative discourse with the student through venous and arterial continuous flow and corrective monitoring.

Given the low vibrational state you have fallen to that you have soiled a profoundly eminent and imperative procedural necessity in your selfish desire to please yourself fas you saw this opportunity —adaptive parasitic energetic opportunism created epigenetically, mutatively, or through intuitive or logical physical organic neurological experience.

And in your own autodeceptive trap, the peaceful and transcendant process creates no surprise. And had you been at least somewhat attuned to the vibrational frequency of your inner being, you would not even have considered to align to the false yet lucrative prophet of the momen. And if this unconscious and unconscionable action was also a result of my own creation of substantial energy perception somehow entering in your psyche dysfunctionally teaching you to perform the sepukku of the solemn functionally vibrational spirit bond.

And so I find myself yet again in disappointment at the temerity of attempting to chastise the victim perpetrated against as if he were a woman “asking for it” by the clothes she wore, as diabolical rationale for why I was raped.

The doubt is that this us the very same classic phenomena I described to ylu previous where I say to myself I trust them that they would refrain from engaging in such hurtful behavior much less double back to abuse the already expiring corpse in a most despicable example of what you humans would term ‘cognitive dissonance.’

While I might attribute it to the utter horror, self-loathing, and soul cringing news that you could be a “people pleaser” according to a very human and allopathic and very flawed and dubious assessment tool....your need to scrub yourself raw of the notion of pleasing another—because it could only be the stigma of the organ of your birth and the wound of your flesh of shame—has led you to another extreme of paranoiac hyperbole inapposite of your greatest and most attractive asset of compassion and kindness—to something altogether hideously simian. And while you also have been endowed with physically uncanny beauty and a level of energy undiminished by brain injuries or fatigue-laden imbalances...they are heaped under the hard light of the lime kiln burning the flesh to the bone as I was unprepared and deeply hurt in a way I rarely felt not only by your tone and manner with me and by canceling within a mere two hours or less of the actual appointment constituted...as you already know—wholly unprofessional, even in coach-level politeness, for someone ‘licensed’ as such, yet allows herself not only to humiliate her client in a shameful display of arrogance to please the mother superior—and—act as inconsiderate and smug, ... as if modeling yourself on the behavior of the chestnut wig and transparently poor excuse for a saint, who feels entitled to humiliate and project her own anger and obviously self-flagellating stereotypical fashion onto those who fall outside the pack of wolves and are vulnerable states and who are ill-prepared for the crudely dismissive farce that fails to hide the thinly veiled contempt I saw immediately as disingenuous charm so obviously coupled with the need to atone through buying oneself using ill-gotten gains into the mistakenly literal high altitude exclusive club if ‘heaven’—atonement not only through her own sins of emotionally abusing THIS client and refusing in rather comically repetitive and cruel terms—to accept news that is not terribly welcomed. But in repeatedly ignoring the messenger and mistaking the placid exterior for passive lack of self worth—a common form of ignorance that the unwary and overconfident exhibit—at their own peril— and, by the by, potentially shooting herself in the proverbial foot in the brilliant process.

Your performance followed by languishing around and again returning too soon and sheltering in place—as if I were a perpetrator— in your shitbox heap of metallic gloom—just allowed me to turn the corner yo view how absurdly asinine and pathetic a creature your own creation had become — as it began to take on your features.

For I was the one caught by surprise e having yo deescalate from my silly assumptions to asdign credulity to someone who says and believes they are a divine being. But whether or not I sm of not I am open in telling that I am most likely pretending as if I were...in thd hope. Of a playful way of internalizing some of themore elegant pronouncements of the ascribed way of the nonphysical being entertaining the idea and getting into character and admitting freely my own hypocrisy.....again I had to course correct from my own Sheltering Protection of Disbelief...

...Beyond sinew or bone, it had been a lonely while since I have felt that level of undeniably sharp emotional sadness and psychic dismemberment brought forth in the form of an internal sewing needle of dread from the heart through the gut, that I had previously thought I permanently exorcised to banished catacombs—the resurrection of sorrow brought me on the brink of tears.

So while I own the part where I trust too much I will not allow this to experience to jaundice my view of your successor—that I that to cooked the beginning of injustice will not occur under my watch.

I know you have more capacity for getting bigger and if you’re surrounded by vipers and sickness it takes a great deal of self care to maintain connection with source. Your benefactor can keep you back from your mission success inevitably and I hope you choose wisely in timing the cutting of this umbilicus.

If I am to pay honor to what humans call self-respect, then you know and agree you behaved in a hurtful and unacceptable manner. And I can hardly open to a state of allowance at all with the current paradigm and this of course you also know this is your notice of breach as the goods are not arriving free on board my old and weathered Plant door. The goods cannot very well be non conforming if they never even leave the point of origin. Violation and abuse comes in many mannerisms and forms and its pathology emanates from various sources.

And I say this with every intention of assertive didactic force that the imbalance lies in your misalignment causing warping in your priorities, myopically misplaced by your perceived lack of acceptance of your proclivity for these: obsessive thoughts that pleasing others is something about which to feel shame. Yet the shame exists only in your manifestation of suffering in another who is your student as well as your ultimate messiah in achieving your mission. That is Me and our collaboration.

Release thine own distorted facets of self and ask your limitless inner being what you desire and it answers; Allow its creation to enter your experience and you shall be swept beyond your dreaming and the bringing shall occur momentous and serene.

5'-TAAAATATATATATAT beta version 4.02 PLDS Arct-Mission ID {1789’-?3”} (FaciVibratos$$Coeuro-Necro) transmit codex cyphyr-lo<u>is: hitwkfe et102T----

[ehkw1989]

A Desire and Decorum Christmas Carol

Pairings: Sinclaire x MC (Edith Wu)

Warnings: Angst, mentions of sexual assault, Duke Richards being a horrible creature

Words: 4404 words.

A/N: It’s only 16 days until Christmas!  I was watching the Muppet Christmas Carol and this popped into my mind.  Without further ado, I present a Desire and Decorum Christmas Carol.

“Grandmother, I beg you to reconsider.  Erne-, Mr. Sinclaire has proposed to me and I had accepted.  With Mr. Sinclaire as my husband, we will be able to ensure Edgewater’s survival despite Lady Henrietta’s meddling.”  Edith pleads with her grandmother as Dominique prepares for bed.

“Hush, my darling.  I fear that Mr. Sinclaire may not have the connections required to keep Edgewater out of Lady Henrietta’s hands.  You may grow to like, perhaps even love Duke Richard.  I too disliked your grandfather at first but we eventually grew a . . . fondness for one other.” The elderly woman replies.  Upon noticing her granddaughter’s tears trailing down when her cheeks.  “My darling, it is the only way to save Edgewater; surely you don’t want to see it fall into Henrietta and Edmund’s hands.  If there was another way, you know that I would not have asked this from you.”

“Edmund is not a horrible monster, Grandmother.  We only need to separate him and Henrietta.  He has grown to be a fine man under Father’s influence.”  The crestfallen young lady protested.  “Father would not have wanted me to marry out of love to save Edgewater.  He knew of my fondness for Mr. Sinclaire and considered him a suitable choice.  Please reconsider.”

“Enough!” As she noticed Edith flinching at her tone, she softens it as squeezes her granddaughter’s hand “I’m sorry, Edith but this is the only way to preserve Edgewater.  Please help me keep it in our family; surely you do not want to see it go to Lady Henrietta.”

“Very well, Grandmother.  If you believe that it is the best way, I will do as you ask.  But only a Christmas miracle can make me like Duke Richard.  Good night, Lady Grandmother.  I shall see you in the morning.”  Edith whispered dejectedly before leaving the bedroom.

“Cheer up, child.  Tomorrow will be Christmas!” Dominique calls out.  “It is the only way to save Edgewater.” Dominique reassured herself as she lies in bed, staring at the bottom of the tester.  “Edith will learn to be happy with Richard.”  She repeatedly mutters this statement as she thinks about her granddaughter’s fate.  “Perhaps I will go to her now and try to talk some more sense to her.” She reaches for the candlestick only to notice that it has gone out.

“Dominique . . . Dominique . . . my dearest one . . .” She hears an eerie whisper call her name.

“Rupert?  It . . . it cannot be!”  She drops the candlestick in fear, the hot wax forming a puddle on the floor as she recognizes the voice. “You’re dead!  This cannot be!”

“But it is.” He moans her name as he approaches her, his chains rattling as he comes closer.

“Why are you in chains?  Go away!  Go away!”  She began to reach for the bell to ring for the servants but only to see it being thrown to the wall.

“I am in chains to pay penance for what I have done.  Hell is real, Dominique and I am in hell atoning for my sins.”

“Everything that you did was for the good of Edgewater.  The good Lord knows that.  You cannot be in hell, Rupert, for I did the same thing you did.”  Dominique makes the sign of the cross as she edges closer to the door.  She is filled with despair as she hears the sound of the door being locked.  “Please let me go.”

“We separated Vincent from the love of his life; our granddaughter was raised in an environment ill befitting of someone of her statue.  And now you will give her away to my protégé.  A man I know to be a vile, despicable creature.”  Rupert shakes his chains in anger, filling the room with a terrible sound.

“Please stop that terrible noise!” Dominique shouts.  “Duke Richard can preserve Edgewater, Mr. Sinclaire cannot.  He has no connections that can stop Henrietta and Edmund from taking Edgewater from us.  We have worked so hard to ensure that Edgewater will live on and I will not be the one to lose it.”  She seethes as she thinks about the possibility of losing Edgewater.  “Do you think I want Edith to not marry for love?  I want her to be loved unlike how I was but I have no choice.”

“I have tried to warn you, let Vincent be my witness.” The flickering spirit gestured to her necklace that contains a lock her son’s hair.  “Dominique, listen to me closely.  This is your last chance to ensure your fate will not be the same as mine.  Three spirits will visit you tonight – the ghost of Christmas past, present and future.  I pray that you will heed my warning and listen to them closely.”  Rupert warns her as he fades away.

“Rupert!  Rupert! Come back; I need you to explain!” Dominique cries as her servant’s frantic voice comes through the door.

“Lady Dominique, is everything alright?  May I come in?”

“Yes, Alice.  Hurry!”

Alice jiggles the doorknob in an attempt to open it. “My lady, I cannot; the door is locked.  I will go and –” To Alice’s astonishment, Lady Dominique’s pale face has appeared behind the door, “My Lady, are you ill?  Shall I fetch more coverings?”

“No, Alice, do . . . do you see anyone in the room?” Dominique opens the door, allowing Alice a clear view of the bedroom.

Alice glances around the room as she steps in.  “No, my Lady.  We’re the other ones here.  Are you alright?”  When Dominique did not reply, she repeats her question.  “Lady Dominique, are you alright?”

“No, Alice, I am not alright.” As she glances at her maid’s worried face, “But, there is no need to fear.  I . . . I would like to rest now.”

“Of course, my Lady.” The young girl bows and walks towards the door.  Before she closes the door, she hesitatingly asks, “My Lady, please forgive my insolence but . . .  but I heard Lady Edith crying in her bedroom. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, all will be well.  You can go now, Alice.” Dominique smiles at her.  “Until tomorrow morning.”

“Good night, my Lady.”  Alice bows once more and closes the door behind her.

“It was but a nightmare.” Dominique reassures herself, “Nothing but a nightmare.” She whispered as she fades to sleep.

“Lady Dominique? Lady Dominique?”  Dominique hears an eerie voice whispers as she glances at the clock through half-lidded eyes.  “Alice, do go away.  It has only been two hours since I have slept.  I asked that I was to be woken at half past eight.” Dominique mumbled crossly.

“I am afraid I am not Alice, Lady Dominique.”  The old woman sits up quickly in bed and turns to see a pale face staring at her.  “Please wake up, we have so much to see and I’m afraid I don’t have much time.”

The old woman lets out a shriek as she recognizes the face. “It . . . it cannot be.”  She pulls the soft covers over her head only to feel them yanked away.

“But it is, my Lady. I am the Christmas past.” The familiar face of Mary Wu peers at her.  “We must leave now; the other two spirits will be coming soon.”

“Leave to where?” Her eyes widen with fear as she thinks of her passing.  “No, I cannot go; Edgewater and Edith still need me.”  Dominique clutches the bed covers tightly as if that will save her from her fate.

“Just to see the past, my Lady.  Your time is not at its end; you will live to see your actions through.” Mary whispered as she flickers in and out.  “Come with me, my Lady.”  She extends her hand to the old woman.

“No, I do not want to see the past!” Dominique shrieks as Mary pulls her out the window.  “Let me be!”  A bright flash of light engulfs the room as Dominique and Mary disappears.

As Dominique takes in the scene of a merry Christmas celebration, she can smell the scent of mulled wine in the air.  She can feel her heart growing with hope as she recognizes the familiar scent.  “Can it be, Mary?  Have you taken me home?”  She sobs with homesickness.

“Yes, Lady Dominique, we are in Cordonia.  Look at the Cordonian ruby apple!  Or have you forgotten what home is?”

“Never, Mary.  I . . . I just . . .” Dominique wipes tears from her eyes as she recognizes more details from the scene.  She sees a younger version of herself laughing with a handsome gentleman.  “That’s Alfred.  Oh, Alfred!” She laughs in happiness and rushes to embrace him only to feel nothing.

“Mary!  What is this?  Why can I not hug Alfred? I miss him so.”

“We’re ghosts, Dominique.” Mary reaches out to touch an apple only to see her hand disappear through it.  “Just like they are, we will all eventually be the ghost of a memory.” She smiles forlornly at the laughing couple; she moves to hold Dominique in place, “Look at them, you cannot ignore your past.”

“England was lovely but I missed you so, Alfred.” The young woman smiles demurely at her companion.

“I don’t believe that you missed me as much I did, my dearest.  I hope that you will never leave again.”

“I hope not, Father had hoped that I would learn to like England during these past six months.” She pauses as she notices her companion’s crestfallen expression.  “Fear not, Alfred, I had advised Father that I will never learn to like England and its gloomy weather!  Come on, Alfred, let’s leave the past miserable six months behind and dance!”  Alfred laughs at her enthusiasm as he twirls her into a Cordonia waltz.

“We need to move on, my Lady.” Mary tugs at Dominique’s elbow, “We still have much to see and not enough time.”

“No, please let me stay a moment longer.  I was so happy here; oh Alfred, how I missed you so.” The old woman covers her mouth as she lets out quiet sobs; trails of tears flowing down her wizened cheeks. A bright flash appeared as the two woman went on to a different memory.

“Where are we, Mary?”  Dominique glances around the room.  There was an oak desk in the room along with floor to ceiling bookcases.  An old man and a young woman were arguing with neither side giving up.  “Is that Papa?  No, no, no!  Please, I don’t want to see this!”

“Hush, you must listen to this!”

“No, I do not want to.” The old woman sobs.  “Please, Mary, I’ve seen enough.  Please have pity on an old woman.”

“Did you have pity on Edith and me when you separated my husband and me?” Mary stared stonily at her, unmoved by Dominique’s sorrows.  “My daughter deserved so much more than I could have given her.  And I loved Vincent so . . .”

“It was for the best.  Everything that I have done was for Edgewater.  I regret nothing.” She stares at Mary but her gaze was on her father and her younger self.

“Papa, please.  Alfred has connections too and I love him so.”  The young woman pleads with her father.

“No, Dominique; the matter has been decided.  Lord Rupert will be here in a fortnight and you will marry him.  You should be grateful for this marriage; Lord Rupert will make you a happy wife.”

“You mean he will make you a wealthy man.  Tonight is Christmas Eve, have you no mercy on your only family?  No pity?” She spat.

“Enough! Go to your room.  You will stay there until Lord Rupert arrives.”  The young woman slams the door shut as she runs out the door crying for Alfred.

“I hate you!  I hate England and I hate Lord Rupert!”

“Please, Mary; please have pity on me.  I don’t want to see anymore.”

“Very well, we will go.”  Mary takes Dominique’s hand as they move on to the next memory.  As Dominique takes into the sight of the furniture and walls, “Mary, I thought we were done.”

“No, Dominique, watch.  Watch as you sell my daughter to keep a house and some land.  Watch as you give her to someone who doesn't love her.”  Mary turns the old woman gently towards the scene.

“Duke Richard, thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”  Lady Dominique hides her grimace as the vile man kisses her hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, my Lady.”  He smirks at her.  “Shall we adjourn to the parlour?  Tea has been laid out for us.”

“That won’t be necessary.  I have to come to speak with you about my granddaughter’s daughter.  I . . . I have come to offer you Lady Edith’s hand in marriage.”

“Lady Edith has made her mind quite clear.” He scoffs.  “And she is most certainly not a Lady.”

“But she is still the heiress of Edgewater.  Your marriage will unite Karlington and Edgewater together; can you imagine that?”  As the Duke hesitates in response, she quickly injects, “I will make sure Edith will arrive at the altar.  Can you imagine my beautiful granddaughter and you joining in holy matrimony?”

A lecherous grin breaks open on his face.  “I can.  You know, Lady Dominique.  I am surprised that you are willing to go this far for Edgewater considering how you originally felt about this place.”

“Edgewater is my home and I will do everything that I can to protect it.”

“You remind me of your father.  He understood what it took to preserve the family name.”

“Enough, Mary!  I’ve heard enough; I don’t want to listen anymore.  Please let me go.”  The old woman covers her ears and closed her eyes in an attempt to block the memory.

“Very well, Dominique.  I believe that we have seen enough, we will go this time.  But be warned, the two other ghosts will not be as kind as me.”  In another flash of bright light, they returned to her bedroom in Edgewater.

“Thank the good Lord that I’m back.” She pulls the cover over herself.  “But Mary said that there will be two other ghosts.  Perhaps . . . perhaps it was all a dream.”

“I’m afraid, Mother, that this isn’t a dream.” An icy voice echoes in her bedroom.

“Vincent?  Is that you?  It cannot be.  Are you the ghost of Christmas Present” She whispered at the emerging shadow.  “Please, Vincent, don’t . . . don’t come closer.”

“Why not, Mother?  It is I, your beloved son.  And you are correct, I am the second spirit that has come to visit you tonight.” She flinches as she feels an icy hand on her shoulder.

“Why have you come to torment me so?”  She looks up to see his ghostly face.  “Everything that I have done was to make sure that you would be happy in life.”

“Do not speak to me about my happiness.  You separated my true love from me and you are now separating my beloved daughter and her true love.  You know that I approve of Ernest.  Why did you sell my daughter to that vile creature?”  The ghost hissed in anger.  “You can still change my beloved daughter’s fate.  Come with me, Mother.  See for yourself who you have given my daughter to.”  With a wave of Vincent’s hands, they appeared in the streets where Lady Edith is running away from Duke Richards.

“I will never be yours!  Stay away from me!  Help!”  Lady Edith rages as Duke Richard chases her.

“Look around, Lady Edith!  We are alone! I have the upper hand.  Do what I say or else I’ll tell everyone you’ve already give in to my charms.  Your reputation will be ruined.” He smirks at her.  “And who will people believe? The Duke of Karlington, or the bastard of some wanton singer?”

Dominique gasps at Duke Richard’s threat and the callousness of his description of Mary; she turns to her son to see him clenching his fists tightly. “Take a good look, Mother.  See what monster you have sold my daughter to.  You have sold your one and only granddaughter to a despicable creature.”

“There are ways to get rid of him after they have married.” Dominique whispered.  “I didn’t want it to come to this.  But to save Edgewater, Edith must marry him.”

“Ernest and Edith can preserve Edgewater but I can see that you have already made up your mind.  I can only hope what comes next will change your mind.”  As Vincent states this, the scene has changed to Edith’s bedroom.  There is a brightly lit fire casting merry shadows in the room but the mood is sombre as Briar tries to comfort Edith.

“Oh, Edith.  Fear not, there is always hope.  Remember what your mother always sang to us as children?”  Briar holds her best friend close.

“She . . .” Edith sobs as she remembers.  “Mama always sang O Come All Ye Faithful or The Twelve Days of Christmas.  Do you remember, Briar?”

“Of course!  On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . . a golden watch and a promise!”  The girls dissolve into giggles as they think of their true loves.

“Do you believe in miracles, Briar?”

“You have to, Edith!  I know you will marry Mr. Sinclaire and live happily ever after.” Briar pauses thoughtfully.  “And have many children . . . and Edgewater will be safe with the two of you protecting it.”

“I hope so, Briar.  I don’t know if I can survive without Ernest.  I don’t believe I can; look what they did to Mama.  She died pining for Father.” She looks at Briar mournfully.  “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t the heiress of Edgewater!  I would be free then.  Free to love, free to marry . . .”

“But you would have never meet Mr. Sinclaire.”  The maid protests.

“I would have found him, some way or another.  Look at my parents.” She smiles fondly.  “I don’t need all of this.” She gestures at the opulent room.  “I only need Ernest.”

“Edith is wrong. She needs Duke Richards to ensure Edgewater’s survival.” Dominique argued.

“You’re wrong, Mother.  Edith will fade away and you will be alone.  Edgewater will not survive if Edith marries the Duke.” Vincent retorted.  “My time here is done, Mother.  Let us return to the present.  I can only hope that the next spirit can convince you that you are wrong.”  Before Dominique can tell Vincent that she loves him, she is back in her bedroom, alone as before.

“Vincent, my dear son.  I love you so.” She whispered into the empty room as she lies back into her bed.  “It is the only way to save Edgewater.” She tries to reassure herself as the statement echoes in the room.  A cold air begins to fill the room as the candlelight flickers once more.  “Spirit?  Is that you?”  Her hand trembles in fear as she reaches for the candle.  “Spirit?”  The apparition did not reply as it gestured towards her.  “No more, spirit.  Take pity on an old woman and spare me the future.” The spirit grabbed Dominique’s arm and whisked her to the future where a dimly lit fire was lit in a cold bedroom.  Briar was trying to sooth Edith as the young heiress coughs blood into a handkerchief.

“Edith, please rest.  Edgewater will still be here in the morning.”  The maid pleads with the sick woman.

“I cannot, Briar.” She whispered as tried to get out of bed, only to sit back as racking coughs shook her body.  “Edgewater needs me; look at this manor.” She gestured towards the peeling wallpaper and damaged furniture.  “Father would be so disappointed in me.”

“Surely Mr. Sinclaire can help; he has done so many times before. What about Prince Hamid?”

“No, the new Mrs. Sinclaire will not allow him to do so and Ernest’s help only makes it worse.  My husband only gets viler as the whispers grow louder.  And dear Hamid is so far way.”  She takes Briar’s hand.  “Help me get up, Briar.” She weakly instructed.

“The doctor said you need to rest.  My lady, it can wait.”

“I don’t think I have the time to wait.” There was another cough as the white cloth turns to red. “Please, Briar; I don’t have much longer.  I must make sure Edgewater doesn’t fade like I do.”

“What do you mean she does not have the time? Spirit, please what happens to my dear Edith?”  Dominique pleads as the scene changes.  “No, please I need to know, my poor girl.”  The old woman weeps uncontrollably as she looks at her surroundings.  There were tombstones everywhere as far as she can see.  Even in the pouring rain, she can make out Mr. Sinclaire and Duke Richards arguing by a grave inscribed: Here lies Edith Richards, beloved wife.  “No, my darling Edith cannot be dead.  It’s too soon!”

“I hope you’re happy, Duke Richards.” Mr. Sinclaire hissed.  “Lady Edith is dead and Edgewater belongs to Lady Henrietta!”

“It cannot be!  Edgewater was supposed to be safe in Edith and Duke Richards’ hands.  What happened?”  Dominique moans.

“My wife died; I had debts.  Lady Henrietta gave me an offer I could not refuse.” The Duke smirks at him.  “You lose again, Sinclaire.  Not only could you not protect Edith but you had to lose Edgewater as well.  I never understood what Vincent saw in you.”

“Everything that you are not.” He retorts.  “Did you kill Edith?  Or was it Henrietta’s idea?”

“The doctor said she died of natural causes.”  Duke Richards replied as he sauntered off to his carriage.  “It matters not, Sinclaire.  Edith did her duty; there is an heir for Karlington.  A legitimate heir.”

Ernest made a move to give chase to Tristan but hesitates as he remembers where he is.  “My love, I will try to get Edgewater back from Lady Henrietta.  I will try to give Edgewater back its true master.”  He vowed.  “For you.” He pressed a kiss on the tombstone as he walks to his horse.

“Spirit, please tell me that this is not the future.  Do I still have a chance to fix this?  I can tell Bishop Monroe it was all a terrible mistake.  I can still save my darling Edith.  Oh, my poor girl.  What have I done to you?” Dominique collapses on the ground, sobbing into her wrinkled hands.  “Take me back, spirit, I beg of you.”  She felt an icy hand touch her shoulder and she was in her bedroom once more.

The dawn has just broken, filling the room with a gentle light.  Dominique grimaces as she remembers the visions she had last night.  “My darling Edith,” She touches Vincent’s lock of hair as she promised.  “I will not let you marry that vile creature.”

A knock interrupts her train of thoughts.  “My lady, it is half past eight.  Shall I bring breakfast up to you?”

“Alice, it’s alright.  Do you know if my granddaughter is awake?”

“Lady Edith . . . Lady Edith has been awake since six.  Shall I bring her to you?”

“No, Alice, I will not need that.  In fact, why don’t you go home for the day?  Everyone should be with their family on Christmas day.”  The old woman smiles at her young maid who is gaping at her.  “Do close your mouth, Alice. “ Lady Dominique presses a half-a-crown into Alice’s hands.  “I’m giving you a few days off to see your family.  Don’t you want to see them?”

“Of course, I do.” Alice smiles.  “Thank you, my Lady!” She curtsies as she begins to run off.

“Alice, wait!  Go and ask Mr. Woods to prepare a carriage for you.  Ask the cook for a goose as well.  I need you to do something for me before you go home.”  The old woman whispered something into the maid’s ears.

“All of Edgewater will be so glad to hear this.  God Bless you, my Lady!”  She shouts as scampers off in her delight.  Dominique smiles at her young maid’s excitement as she knocks on her granddaughter’s door.  There was a great deal of shuffling movement as Edith says, “Just a moment, please.”  There was a sound of a lid slamming shut.  “Please come in.”

“Good morning, Edith.  Happy Christmas, my darling!” Dominique smiles as Briar opens the door and bows to her.  “Good morning, Briar.  I thought you had left to go see your family last night.”

“Good morning, Lady Dominique.  Lady Edith requested my presence for today; I will be returning home shortly.”

“Whatever for, my darling?”  Dominique asked with a twinkle in her eyes.  “Whatever could be so important that my granddaughter would keep her best friend from her family on Christmas day?”

“Nothing . . . nothing, just homesickness.  I thought I could spend Christmas Eve with family.”  Edith replies with a slight edge in her voice as she attempts to block something from Dominique’s view.  “Shall we head down to breakfast, Grandmother?”

“I just wanted to let you know that a very special guest will be joining us for Christmas breakfast along with Bishop Monroe.  Briar, please ensure to dress Edith in a white dress and put the tiara on her.”

“But I thought that I still had some time before I had to marry . . .”

“My dear girl, the sooner you marry the sooner Edgewater will be safe.  I’m so sorry, my darling but you will need to marry today.”

“Please, Grandmother, please, I can’t . . .” Edith sobs softly, “I beg of you.”  The elderly woman raised her hand to stop the protests.

“My darling girl, Mr. Sinclaire is on his way here.”  She smiles at her granddaughter’s confused face.  “I’ve asked Alice to pass a message to him. With any luck, you will be Mrs. Sinclaire before noon today!”

“Do you mean it, Grandmother?”  The two women embrace one another as Briar tries to contain her excitement for her best friend.

“I do.  Will you forgive a foolish old woman?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.  You’re my only family left.”

“Not if you marry today, my darling!”  Dominique kisses her on the forehead with great affection.  “I will leave you two.”  She pauses before closing the door.  “If you hurry, you may be able to unpack everything.” She winked as the two girls blushed at being caught.  “And for goodness’ sake, pull up the rope from the window and close it.  You might catch a cold before marrying Mr. Sinclaire!”

Tag List:

@darley1101; @boneandfur; @everythingchoices; @drakewalkerwhipped; @walkerismychoice; @hellospunkiebrewster, @angstymarshmallow, @mrswalkerwritesagain @pbchoicesobsessed@choicesfanficlibrary@choiceswreckedme; @parkerattano, @simplyaiden-blog, @snyggflicka, @drakewalkerfantasy, @drakelover78, @theroyalweisme, @confessionsofabrokegirl

[shadowphoenixrider]

Azsuna Awaits (4/7)

(This chapter got LONG, so long I had to split it in two. Although I know some of you like long haul chapters, I feel this one is better at this length. I shall tag my usual good folks: @galleywinter, @highpriestessbriyanna, @sigurdjarlson, @fer8girl and @elfgirl931. You guys rock, I don’t think I tell you enough, including those of you who are reading now! Enjoy!)

(Previous chapter)

The situation at the Whelplands was grim. On the road towards the area were the occasional bodies of whelps that had tried to flee or seek refuge but had perished, lying by the stone path like broken toys. Spike nudged the first two with his muzzle, trying to stir them, but he whined when he realized they already gone. Later he didn’t even bother to inspect them, knowing that they had arrived too late.

The sight broke Draggka’s heart and quickened her pace, curdling a blood-thirst to slaughter whoever would attack such young, defenceless creatures.

They found Agapanthus and his contingent of drakonids and dragonspawn holed up in a cluster of elven ruins, sheltering whelplings and fighting off what appeared to be withered elves. She also found Senegos, or at least a projection of him; its appearance made her do a double take, especially to see the great dragon standing tall, and looking much more spry than when she last left him.

“Don’t you worry, small one.” He spoke, voice strong and echoing due to the magic. “I am still in my pool. It doesn’t take much energy to throw a projection of myself here and there.” Said projection lifted its chin proudly, great white beard rippling as it did. “I may be old and dying, but I am still a blue dragon.”

Agapanthus was grateful to see Draggka had come, and quickly gave the troll some orders: to scavenge the mana crystals growing around the Whelplands to revive as many whelps as possible, and to kill any Withered that got in her way, as well as any that attacked her, looked at her funny; just generally as many as she had arrows for. The dragonspawn also privately asked her to find Stellagosa; she had a habit of jumping right into the fray, and he worried that she may have bitten off more than she could chew. A part of Draggka warned her that the drake’s absence could be a trap set by Cordana; after all, she’d caught the dragon before, and she and the troll had been linked together. Still, the hunter swallowed down her apprehension and agreed to look for her.

The withered elves were very aggressive, and if they noticed the hunter, they’d stagger towards her, spindly arms outstretched and with the tell-tale ‘grasp’ as they tried to feast on the kernel of arcane power she had, or her very lifeforce. Their emaciated bodies were little defence, however, so a well-placed arrow felled them easily, and Spike snapped them like dry twigs with one leaping bite.

Both hunter and raptor took great pleasure from killing the creatures, especially the ones that feasted on the whelps; they were so enraptured by their kills that it only took an arrow into the back of their neck to end them before they even realized what was happening. It also helped save the whelplings that had been attacked, although they were too late for a few. Those that were rescued, however, thrilled their thanks and quickly fluttered off to safety, though Draggka watched them go to make sure they weren’t ambushed on their way.

They found Stellagosa further into the Whelplands, weakly fending off a pack of withered. Spike didn’t even wait for Draggka’s word, barrelling into them with a roar, talons flashing as they tore into purple flesh and bone. The hunter took out the remainder, and any elves that looked like they were going to join the fight. A part of her felt a little pity for the creatures driven mad by hunger, thinking of her friend Cayeli, but the rest of her felt nothing but contempt. They were as mindless as the Scourge now, and would be treated as such; nothing more than a threat to be dealt with.

Stellagosa thanked Draggka for her second rescue, but warned her of a particular withered elf that was stronger, and seemed to have more of his mind than the rest; he’d been the one to attack and drain her, leaving her for the others to finish off. She’d seen him run into the cave further down the path, and urged Draggka to put him down before he did any more damage.

The troll agreed, hurrying in that direction and taking out any withered along the way. It was an unpleasant journey, however; the whelps she found now were either too weak to be revived, or already dead. Her heart cried out in pain to see them; she felt she should at least bury them, to grant them some dignity in death, but there were too many, and the danger of that lone Withered was too great, as was the ever present threat of Cordana. A cave would be a perfect ambush, with only one entrance...Draggka pushed the thought aside and carried on.

More bodies of drained whelps littered both the mouth of the cave and inside it, enough for dread to sink into her stomach. She’d seen at least a dozen of Senegos’s lifeless offspring, if not more...Had any of those she’d saved been enough? The hunter forged that dread into conviction, and stepped into the opening, nocking an arrow to her bow.

The withered elf had clearly made this cave his home, if the tattered pelt on the floor that he was curled up on was any indication, resting in a fitful sleep. He was as thin as all the others, but whilst the others had been stooped over, moving in savage, animalistic yet almost zombie-like ways, this one slept as Draggka would expect an elf would. His skin was a dark greyish purple, with ornate tattoos carved into his skin that looked hollow, as if they would be filled with something - magic? His hair was white and long, and still somewhat clean and cared for, indicating that he did indeed hold more intelligence than his withered cohorts. The troll still couldn’t work out what kind of elf he and the others were, though. Their colour and ears made her think of the night elves, but she’d encountered enough of them to know that none of them 'withered’ like the blood elves did, and these bore a striking similarity to the Wretched. I wonder if Khadgar knows about them... She mused.

The elf stirred then, and Spike tensed; she had to act now. Draggka raised her bow and pulled the arrow back, aiming to get his neck and kill him instantly with one shot.

Either the elf heard the bow creak at full draw, or he was more awake than he looked, but as she loosed the arrow, he jerked away, the arrow burying itself into the pelt under him. He turned angry purple eyes on her, and the troll noted that he was considerably more elf than his mana zombie peers, just from the clarity within them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He demanded, accent smooth but very foreign. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Ya be da one who killed dose whelps.” Draggka replied coldly, reaching for another arrow. “I be dere revenge.”

“You are beginning to anger me!” The elf cried, before he suddenly screamed. “I’ll kill you! I’ll drink the mana from your broken bones!”

He lashed out in what felt like an instant, the magical drain grasping at Draggka’s very being with a hunger that caught her off guard. She swore loudly, fumbling for her blunt arrows - the only way to interrupt such an ability non-magically, but the sensation suddenly shifted from grasping for something else. She glanced down in confusion to see energy streaking out from her pockets - The ley crystal, of course! It must still have some energy left from reviving the whelps!

Spike roared furiously as Draggka was assaulted, and charged directly at the elf, teeth bared. Said elf seemed to realize his mistake as several kilograms of angry scaled death leapt at him, knocking him flat to the ground and breaking his drain on the crystal. The raptor opened his jaws wide, going to bite the elf’s face off, when he managed to grasp the beast’s jaws, just managing to stop his imminent death.

“Wait wait wait!” He cried, spindly arms trembling with the effort to hold the snarling raptor back, wincing at the smell of his hot breath. “I surrender! Please, please call your friend off!”

Draggka frowned, nocking another arrow to Thas’dorah and drawing closer.

“Why should I do dat?” She asked flatly. Spike didn’t continue to push, but his fierce visage was enough to remind the elf of his intentions.

“Please forgive me, my friend. The hunger pangs from feeding on such raw energy...it clouds my judgement. I fear if not for the mana crystal you carry, I may have done something I regret. I am truly, truly sorry.” He glanced up at her as she got closer.

Put an arrow in this miserable wretch and end him, sneered her bloodthirst. He sucked the life out of the whelps, he deserves to die.

To kill a person who has surrendered is dishonourable. The rest of her said calmly. We must give him the chance to atone first. Did Khadgar not give you the benefit of the doubt?

Draggka scowled for a moment before she spoke.

“Let him up, Spike,” she said in Zandali. The raptor glanced back at her as if confused. “Let him go for now. But keep an eye on him.”

Spike snorted, glaring at the elf, but he stepped off his chest. Switching back to Common, Draggka said:

“Alright, I be letting ya go dis time. But if ya betray me, I let him kill ya. Understood?” She nodded to Spike, who seemed to be waiting for a chance to strike at any moment. Not that she blamed him.

“Oh yes, yes of course,” he said hurriedly, scrambling to his feet, “I wouldn’t dream of betraying you. Not with such a fierce companion at your side.” He smiled at Spike, who growled menacingly in response, curling his lips. “I hope you can see beyond my tattered robes and desperate behaviour. I am not a monster.”

Draggka looked down at the whelpling corpses, and back to the elf.

“Ah, yes.” The elf wrapped his arms around himself. “The fruits of my desperation. I am not proud of them. But watch. I can prove that I can move beyond such despicable ways. I am not some mana-addled freak, like the rest of those wretches.”

She scowled, the two sides of her warring with each other once again, but honour won the bout once more.

“Alright. I be givin’ ya a chance to prove yaself, but if any harm be coming to da dragons, I will kill ya,” she said.

“I quite understand.” The elf nodded. “Just...could I have the remains of that mana crystal? Just to keep me going.”

The troll handed it over, watching him drain it quickly and his eyes brighten, some of the lines around his gaunt face easing. Curiosity stirred within her; what kind of an elf was he, and how had he come to be as addicted to magic as the high and blood elves were? Her dislike of him silenced her tongue, however. He’d killed the young, and the young of dragons at that. He was not to be befriended.

When they arrived back at Agapanthus’s camp, the drakonids were immediately on guard, pointing their sharp polearms inches from the withered elf’s face.

“He be with me.” Draggka said casually. “He says he be wishing to help, so I be giving him a chance to make good.” She looked them in the eyes. “If he tries anyting, I will kill him in a heartbeat.”

They were understandably reluctant, but they snorted and let them through, Senegos’s projection appearing in front of them moments later.

“Who is this?” Senegos asked, eyes boring into the spindly elf next to the hunter.

“I am Runas, son of Indarril, formerly of Suramar.” The elf said, bowing politely, the raptor directly behind him growling. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Senegos’s muzzle twisted with distaste, an almost perfect mirror of Spike’s expression.

“Nightfallen.” He growled. “I do not trust you and your kind.”

“I understand, good dragon.” Runas replied. “My people have earned your distrust. Allow me to make amends.”

“We will see.” The dragon said coldly. “You are lucky that my strength is not as it used to be.”

Runas looked thoughtful.

“Pardon me for any offence, but your dragon says he is not as strong as he used to be? I know why. Runas can fix that, my friend,” he said, looking to Draggka. She wanted to retort otherwise, her fur prickling uncomfortably, but the hunter kept quiet for now.

“One of my kind, Ael’Yith, pulls ley energy from the very ground of Azsuna. I can take you to the location of his mana siphons. It’s not too late to undo the harm the others have done. You’ve done well to trust me.”

Draggka and Senegos exchanged a look.

“Those monsters are pulling directly from the ground. That explains why not even my mana pools can dull my pain.” He murmured. “I don’t trust him, but without the power of leylines, we are nothing.”

The hunter looked the emaciated elf over again, wariness still prickling over her skin.

“Alright, Runas. We believe ya. Show us da way.”

True to his word, he did, only stopping momentarily to drain another mana crystal of its energy. His mouth, however, didn’t stop, something that Draggka couldn’t decide was the effect of withdrawal, or just his usual self. It did remind her of Khadgar, though.

He lead them to place Senegos knew as the Ley Ruins of Zarkhenar; a large collection of ancient Highborne buildings, most ruined, but one still intact, surrounded by huge glowing fissures with crystals sprouting from them, which had to be leylines running close to the surface.

And full of the mana-hungry so-called Nightfallen.

Runas did not react very well to so much raw mana emanating from the ground, and begged Draggka to go down and find as many mana jewels or crystals as she could, so he could keep focused and find a solution to take down the large mana pylons that Draggka could see wedged into the glowing blueish purple cracks. Senegos asked her to run amok whilst she was down there, destroying as many smaller siphons as she could, and kill any Nightfallen that dared stop her. The troll was more than happy to oblige.

One Nightfallen in particular was not happy about her meddling, and he yelled at her from the tower of the intact Highborne building for trying to steal ‘his’ mana, hurling arcane bolts at her from above. They were fairly easy avoid if she kept on the move, and Spike would occasionally distract the blowhard into casting spells the wrong way. Draggka was sure he was the Ael’Yith Runas had referred to, and silently contented herself with the knowledge that one of her arrows would permanently silence his crowing. That or Spike would. Eventually.

When she returned, Runas gorged himself on the mana crystals, whilst Senegos spoke to her, his voice stronger, and his projection more solid and clear.

“Thank you, Draggka,” he said. “Those siphons almost did me in.”

“Ya feel better now?” She asked.

“Yes. I no longer need your friend’s assistance, but he insists on helping me recover.” The projection tilted his head slightly, as if looking at something Draggka couldn’t see. She chuckled softly.

“Dat sounds like him. He be a stubborn kodo, but don’t let him drain himself. He might be needing it later.”

She thought the old dragon smiled.

“There is little danger of that here. He does not draw much from the leyline.” Senegos’s face hardened, and he turned his gaze back to the ruins. “I sense the draw now, in the tallest building of the ruins. One of those cretins must have tapped deep into the leyline, and be drawing from it that way.”

“I tink dat be da Ael’Yith Runas mentioned. He been hollering at me an’ throwing arcane bolts at me whilst I were busy.”

The troll swore that the dragon was smirking now.

“Maybe it’s time you paid him a visit,” he said softly.

“I agree.” Runas said suddenly from Draggka’s side, making her jump. He smiled. “Thank you for those crystals, my friend. I knew I could count on you.”

“Ya figure out how we can be taking down dose pylons?” She asked. “I not be having da stuff needed to make anything dat explodes. Dat an’ dey zap me when I get too close.”

“The pylons only react against ground targets, yet they’re defenceless to anything that attacks from above.” Runas explained. “If you send your whelplings against them, they can fly close enough to them to destroy them.”

“Runas...” Draggka began, seeing Senegos’s eyes narrow.

“Trust me.” The elf said. “They are too small for Ael’Yith to hit from above. They will be able to do it.”

The dragon’s nostrils flared, and his lips curled into a snarl.

“I still do not trust Nightfallen, but it seems we have little choice.” He snorted with frustration. “I will call the whelplings. But if you deceive me, prepare to face the wrath of a dragonflight.”

“I was once a noble elf, good dragon.” Runas said, bowing his head. “I know the meaning of honour.”

“Even so, I will entrust them to you, Draggka. Send them back as soon as the pylons are destroyed.” Senegos said.

In a couple of seconds, a flock of blue whelplings appeared, fluttering around the projection of their patriarch, before they began to circle Draggka, chattering nosily and hissing and spitting crossly at Runas. To his credit, the Nightfallen stepped back away from them, clasping his hands together.

“I...I think it would be better if I stay here,” he said softly. “Good luck, my friend.”

“I’ll look afta dem.” Draggka nodded to Senegos.

“See as you do.” The dragon huffed. The gruff tone prickled her fur, but she couldn’t blame his annoyance, when his brood was so precious and so fragile.

The hunter returned to the ruins, cloud of whelplings in tow, most flying just behind her, though some settled onto Spike’s back, chirruping excitedly as they rode their ‘steed’ onwards. Spike seemed charmed by the little whelps, playfully nipping at them as they dive-bombed at his head mischievously. Draggka chuckled at the sight, and despite the current situation, she wished Khadgar was by her side to see it too.

Ael’Yith lobbed insults and arcane bolts as soon as he saw the troll again, and the whelps’ chattering turned deadly serious, focusing on keeping close to her and Spike. When Draggka reached the first pylon, staying just out of range of its safeguards, she gestured to the whelps hovering around her.

They rose in a cloud of scaley bodies, diving down on top of the pylon, shooting blasts of ice from their mouths, and ripping and tearing anything they could with their claws. After a couple of moments, the pylon gave a loud groan, crack tearing across its surface from top to bottom, before the mana it was holding blew it apart, the backlash of energy rippling Draggka’s fur and exciting the whelplings, their eyes flashing with arcane magic and battle-lust.

Ael’Yith was apoplectic.

The hunter had long since tuned out his screaming habdabs, moving quickly to avoid his magical missiles and guiding the whelps in the direction of the other pylons. They were only too happy to oblige, and Draggka watched proudly as they destroyed the structures that were their guardian’s bane. She had a feeling they’d like to rip Ael’Yith apart too, but the troll had promised to keep them safe, and she wouldn’t risk them in the confrontation.

They were reluctant to leave her, but they did eventually, offering wheezy whelp barks and nuzzles to her or Spike before they returned to the Repose.

Ael’Yith was sequestered in his tower alone, copious amounts of crystals jutting out of the walls and floor in evidence of the leyline he was drawing from. He was a lot healthier looking than the other elves outside, and dressed so regally it made Draggka ill just looking at him.

“Did that dragon send you, interloper?” He spat. “Or was it that beggar Runas?”

“Neither.” Draggka replied, nocking an arrow as Spike crouched low. “I came to shut ya up fer a few seconds.”

“How dare you speak to Azsuna’s new prince in such a way!” He cried. “I will make you kneel, peasant!”

Spike gave a roar and charged, only to be swiftly blasted away by magic, whilst Draggka unleashed a rain of arrows against him. Most slammed uselessly into the arcane shield Ael’Yith had conjured, but one or two got through, including a blunt-headed arrow straight to the elf’s throat, interrupting one of his casts against her.

“You’ll pay for this, savage!” Ael’Yith snarled. “You rats aren’t fit to touch the hem of my robe!”

“Bold of ya to assume I want to do anyting else but kill ya.” Draggka muttered, smirking as his distraction allowed her raptor to leap upon him, shattering the shield and tearing gashes down his back.

“Argh!” Ael’Yith launched his attacker back with an explosion of arcane energy. “Enough of this! If we cannot use the leylines in peace, then we will feast on the dragons instead!”

“No!” Draggka let fly with as many arrows as she could, but Ale’Yith disappeared in a flash of magic, her missiles either flying out of the nearby window or breaking as they struck the stone walls. Spike’s jaws also snapped at thin air. “No no no...!”

The troll scrambled to her feet, heart and mind racing. there was no way she could outrun a teleporting mage, and with no way to signal across long distances, Senegos had literally no warning that he and his brood were in danger from a mad elf and his ‘army’ of withered heading straight for-

Khadgar.

Draggka stumbled onto the tower’s balcony, just as Stellagosa flew over.

“Draggka, grandfather said you might need-” She began before the hunter cut him off.

“Ael’Yith escaped! He be goin’ to da Repose wit de others to drain Senegos!” 

The drake’s golden eyes widened, her wings almost missing a beat in her shock.

“What?! Then there’s no time to lose!” She grasped the railings of the balcony, perching in an truly ungainly manner just long enough for Draggka to jump onto her back before she took flight again, scooping Spike up in her paws. The raptor made a whining noise, signalling his uncertainty at this arrangement, but he did not resist. Probably because he didn’t want to be dropped.

The hunter flattened herself against Stellagosa’s back in a desperate bid to speed her wings, yet she watched the ground below swarm with withered elves, all heading to one place...

“It’s not too late.” The dragon spoke. “We’ll jump the mountains to cut them off. Hold tight!”

Draggka wrapped her arms tightly around Stellagosa’s neck as her powerful wing-beats thrust them higher into the sky. There was no sensation like it, and experiencing it upon a dragon’s back was second to none. She was honoured every time a dragon allowed her to travel on their backs, and a part of her savoured it now, even though other worries occupied her thoughts.

“No, no...They’re everywhere!” Stellagosa cried, Draggka’s eyes popping open to glimpse the withered swarming down the path to the Repose. Her heart leapt straight into her throat as she desperately scanned the crowd for her mage, praying to her loa to keep him safe.

“Khadgar!” She cried, torn between holding onto the dragon’s back, and leaping down to carve a bloody path through the withered to find him.

“We’re too late...” Stellagosa murmured. “I’m s-”

Her head suddenly snapped to the side, just as there was an immense explosion of arcane energy, sending the limp bodies of elves flying, clearing a brief opening to reveal the origin point.

“I see him!” Stellagosa gasped. “Hang on, I’m going in low.”

“Throw Spike!” Draggka urged as the withered started to close in again, arms outstretched to grasp at the mage. “He buy us da time we need!”

“Are you sure?” The drake glanced back at the hunter, but Spike roared an affirmative, gnashing his teeth eagerly. “Okay, here goes!”

She cautiously hurled Spike down onto the withered advancing down on the archmage, the raptor letting out a blood-thirsty shriek as he literally fell upon his first victim.

With her front feet free, Stellagosa gave her own roar, spitting balls of ice at the ones going for Khadgar’s back, and pouncing upon those she missed, sweeping her tail around to clear a space for them all. From her perch, Draggka loosed arrows upon the others, felling them like swathes of wheat under a rainstorm.

With this attack, they seemed to have cleared a small space of protection away from the withered; a few stragglers were easily picked off, whilst the bulk of the group were either already in the Repose, or appeared to retain enough sense not bother them any further.

For the moment, that was moot; Draggka leapt off Stellagosa’s back and almost straight onto Khadgar, throwing her arms tightly around him.

“Spirits, I’m so glad ya be okay! I thought I lost ya...” She had to forcibly hold back the tears that threatened to leak out of her eyes, swallowing down the sudden rush of emotion.

“It was a close run thing.” Khadgar murmured, wrapping his own arms around her. “If you hadn’t have shown up when you did, I fear I might have been overrun completely.”

“I’m sorry, I woulda warned ya if I could-”

“I know you would.” He replied, gently squeezing her.

It took a moment for Draggka to realize that she was hugging Khadgar a little longer than would be expected for a casual friend, and she sensed that there were many eyes on her. She pulled back to notice a small flock of whelplings around them, watching curiously and some chittering with what sounded like amusement. Others were hovering around Stellagosa as she rumbled to them in Draconic and checked them over.

Khadgar blushed slightly as the the hunter looked back to him.

“Ah, well, I might have told Senegos and the little ones about our...partnership,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’d already worked out that we were more than friends, and I didn’t see a reason not to tell him the full story. When the withered began to attack, Senegos told me to take as many of his whelps as I could to safety.” Khadgar sighed softy, shoulders sagging. “I...I think I lost a few.”

“Ya did ya best.” Draggka said, squeezing his hands.

“You both have,” Stellagosa said. “But this many withered threaten to wipe out our brood completely. If you can find some ley crystals when you go to grandfather, please use them to heal the others. I will stay here and protect these whelplings.”

“Are you sure?” Khadgar asked. “If any more come down the slope, you’ll be overrun, and we won’t be able to help you.”

“We’ve taken out a good many of their number. If any more start arriving, I’ll take them to safety in the mountains.” Stellagosa replied. “Please don’t worry about me. My grandfather needs you more.”

“Alright.” The archmage nodded. “Then let’s not waste any more time.” He gripped Atiesh tightly, turning towards the Repose.

“Ya coming wit?” Draggka asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Of course!” He flashed her a brilliant smile. “I recall a promise I made to a certain troll about fighting by her side. And I have every intention of keeping it.”

She couldn’t help the grin that slowly grew across her lips, nor the little skip her heart made. But the anxiety was still there.

“Are ya sure? Dey eat magic, so you be a prime target for dem.”

“Maybe, but they would have to get close to me first.” A flicker of magic danced around his fingers. “Not to mention that this time I will have a charming huntress-”

“Hunter.”

“-hunter, and a fearsome raptor backing me up.” The wizard smiled. “I think I will be just fine.”

“Alright. But stay close. I don’t want to be losing ya.” Draggka said as they started down the hill.

“Don’t worry, my dear, the feeling is mutual.”

They made quite the team as they pushed into the Repose. It helped that the withered elves were not very smart, and as soon as they sensed Khadgar, their only notion was to get to him as directly as possible. Often straight into a fireball, arrow, or jaws of a raptor. Spike acted as their vanguard in case any tried to outflank them, and Draggka and Khadgar proceeded to pick the withered off at leisure, the hunter collecting up her arrows as she went. It was just like being back on Draenor, feeling the arcane twist and flex around her as Khadgar cast his spells, its thrum almost comforting and lulling her into a battle-trance.

The Repose itself was as to be expected; a messy battleground of dragon and withered elf, some holding their own, whilst others were collapsed on the ground, chests heaving rapidly or otherwise laying still in a way that chilled the bones.

Senegos himself was fighting valiantly, a complete opposite from when Draggka had last seen him in the flesh. Great sweeps of his massive tail and giant paws sent withered flying into broken heaps, though they continued to swarm over him like ants.

“He appears to holding his own rather well.” Khadgar commented. “Come, we should see to the less fortunate.”

They managed to find some big ley crystals by the mana wurm cave, uprooting them with little trouble (the wurms were too busy mobbing the elves that had blundered in their home), and then proceeded to attend to the stricken dragons.

Most were thankfully clinging into life when they found them, Draggka and Spike standing guard as Khadgar used the ley crystal to revive them. The drakes gasped out their thanks before taking wing to get away from the throng of withered, some hurling down bolts of ice at them in pure displeasure. The archmage did revive a whelp that looked vaguely familiar, and it let out a wheezy bark as it fluttered back into the air, eyeing them both with bright, intelligent eyes before it flew off, Spike watching it go intently.

A couple of dragonspawn and drakonids had been downed by the mana-hungry elves, and they attended to them as well, Spike savagely ripping into one elf that was leaning over a dragonspawn, ready to suck the life out of them.

“Thank you, both of you.” The dragonspawn Draggka recognised as Cedonu said as he climbed to his feet. “Senegos was wise to trust you.”

“It be our honour to help.” She replied, Khadgar nodding in agreement.

“We’re all grateful for your aid.” Cedonu said, before he frowned. “I must join the others, but as I fell, I saw one of the Nightfallen slinking into the larger caves.”

“The withered are ruled by their need to feed on magical energy,” Khadgar murmured, his silver brows furrowing, “they have no reason to go into the caves when you are all out here.”

“Dat sounds like Ael’Yith, dere ‘leader’.” Draggka said, Spike uttering a low growl in response to the name. “We better go an’ take him out before anyting bad happens.”

“Agreed.” Khadgar nodded grimly, and they set off at a brisk pace to the caves Draggka had once ventured inside to help keep Senegos alive, ready for confrontation.

As they entered, they heard a soft voice off to their left.

“Hello? Is that you, my friend?”

Following it around the corner revealed an emaciated Nightfallen standing in a smaller version of Senegos’s pool; more a puddle, in honesty. The elf was trembling badly, hands scratching at his skin as he coughed violently.

Draggka’s fur prickled as Khadgar readied himself for a fireball.

“Wait, Khadgar!” She cried, clasping his hand. “I know dis one! Dis be Runas, he be helping me to save Senegos in da Whelplands!”

The wizard stopped his cast, but his expression was stony and unconvinced.

“Really? But they’ve been hunting the dragons for their magical energy.”

“Yeah, but he be making amends fer what he’s done. I trust him, Khadgar. Let me at least be talkin’ to him.”

His expression didn’t shift, yet he dropped his hand to his side.

“Alright. I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said, though not unkindly. Draggka wanted to point out that if he could give the Horde (and by extension, her) another chance after all the things they’d done, then he needed to give Runas that same courtesy, but she sensed that there was no time for a debate.

“I be here, Runas. It’s me.” She jogged over to the elf, feeling Khadgar’s stare boring into them. “What are ya doing here?”

It took a moment for the Nightfallen to focus on her, his purple eyes dull and hazy.

“I...I came to warn you. Ael’Yith...He, he has a construct...” A violent coughing fit wracked his body. “He’s, he’s waiting to strike...when least expected.”

“The withered are being used as cannon fodder.” Khadgar murmured. “We need to stop this Ael’Yith before he gets to Senegos.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t...have come sooner.” Runas spoke softly, a large shudder gripping his entire body. “I am weak, my friend. The hunger is devastating...consuming my very mind. It is taking every ounce of my energy to just...just...” Another coughing fits, his fingers clawing deep into his skin, leaving ugly furrows behind them.

“I be here, Runas.” Draggka looked back at Khadgar anxiously. “Da ley crystals, Khadgar!”

The mage shook his head, showing her the dull stone.

“Cedonu took the last it had,” he said softly. “Draggka, I think-”

“C...Can you hear me, my friend?” Runas spoke, pulling the hunter’s attention back to him. “I...I cannot see you any more.”

“I still be here.” A hard lump was forming in her throat that she could not clear. Spike whined softly.

“I think...perhaps it is time to say goodbye, then.” Runas looked in the direction of her voice, but his eyes were unfocused, looking through her. His skin was paler than she’d ever see it, and he looked so frail he reminded her of...of...

“Khadgar...” Draggka’s voice was heavy, with the tears burning fiercely at her eyes.

“It’s too late,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Draggka.” Runas croaked. “For letting my last few hours...mean...something...”

And then he was gone. Runas’s eyes glassed over, his posture slumping into that of a full withered, jaw hanging loose along with his arms, finger knuckles scraping the water’s surface. Despite her pain, the troll readied herself for Runas to launch himself at her, but he didn’t. He just stood, head lolling limply to the side, before he lurched mindlessly away, ignoring them completely.

“Runas?” Draggka called uncertainly, feeling Khadgar come to her side and thread his arm around her shoulder.

“He’s gone, darling. I’m sorry.” Spike whined again, resting his head against her legs.

“But why he be...?”

“I think...” Khadgar’s eyes flicked over the scene. “I think the mana pool is sustaining him enough not to frenzy and actively hunt for magic. If he stays within it, he will be harmless. Mindless, but harmless.”

Draggka swallowed hard. She found it hard to believe that she’d formed a bond with Runas so quickly, but the pain in her heart, the tears rolling down her cheeks, and the tight lump in her throat were all very real.

“I can’t leave him like dis,” she said.

Khadgar blinked at her, brows furrowing.

“Dearest, we can’t bring him back. Once you succumb to the addiction of the arcane, your mind is lost forever. And if what he says is true, we don’t have long until Ael’Yith shows up with his construct.”

“I know, but...” She shallowed hard. “I can’t leave him like dis. He be deserving better den to be trapped like dis, and fer da dragons to be finding an’ killing him later.”

Draggka took her hunting knife from its sheath, approaching the withered Runas. Spike was at her side, watching carefully, ready to defend her if need be. Runas was almost docile, compliant as Draggka took hold of his head, lifting his chin just enough to bare his thin neck. She felt her hand resist at first, but she managed to lay the blade to his neck, feeling his heart pulse underneath it. The hunter prayed that she hadn’t seen a glimmer of recognition in those dull purple eyes as she drew the blade across, slitting open every vessel she knew was there as her vision blurred with the new tears flowing down her cheeks.

Runas choked softly, his hands grasping at her briefly, but the tide of blood was unstoppable, incapacitating him in seconds. As his feet gave way, Draggka held him tightly, gently, reverently laying him down into the pool, and watching the light leave his eyes.

“I be sorry, Runas.” She managed thickly. “I hope ya find peace from ya hunger, wherever ya be goin’. May ya gods being keeping ya safe.” With a hand that trembled, she closed his eyes.

Draggka just stood for a moment, staring at the body floating in the mana pool, slowly turning its sparkling pink surface red. Spike nuzzled his body against her in comfort, before she felt Khadgar move behind her, encircling her with his arms. She turned into him, choking out a loud sob, grasping at his robe to ground her. He held her tighter, pressing a kiss to her head, and allowed her to mourn her lost friend.

(Previous chapter) / (Next chapter)

[daphnenott]

dramione fanfics?

-note- updated 2/7/17

eunice’s list of fanfics!!! 

(these are all complete and have various ratings of maturity and such)

multi-chapter

isolation

risk-reward ratio

the nietzsche classes

silencio

the fallout

seven times

a pound of flesh

a wonderful caricature of intimacy

atonement

what the room requires

the green girl

static

we learned the sea

ghosts

thirty times lucky

the die

hunted

a muggle-born magic

a dowry of a single galleon

troy

the revenant

leap in time

aurelian

broken 

beautiful things can come from the dark

a writer of fictions

after the flood

arresto momentum

the bandit and the cinder girl

bad faith

broken yolk

eight and eighth

hell and high water

knowing you

picture retribution

utterly despicable

fortuna major

demolition lovers

it’s all uncharted

a fruitless year

a kingdom beside the sea

seven days in april

the die

of kings and queens

the symmetrical transit

the request

renaissance

one-shots

juniper

constrictor

though poppies grow

silhouettes

graveyard valentine

little, fragile toys

this is how you lose her

with teeth

books written for girls

creatures of the wind

minimal risk

charon’s gift

eyes open

japanese blossoms

building sapphire skies

precious things

the spring turnover

donum scientiae

wow that took me forever… anyways, i’m 100% certain that this is not a complete list, but these are just some I could come up with off the top of my head (I’ll probably add to this list once I think of the rest) 

for more info/detail on some of the fics (sorry it’s not as updated as I’d like it to be), you can check my fic rec page here

[serenagaywaterford]

19) what else. I think it irritates people that such a smart, skillful woman is so vile in some many other ways." But I mean, isn't this what makes her such a multi-layered and realistic antagonist? A lot of us have met RL women like her at some point. Which is kinda disturbing when you notice the similarities. n) "Rationally, I’m pretty sure she’s aware [that Nicole isn't hers] "Oh, she definitely does. But admitting that would mean admitting so much more: that she went to all of that trouble

20) "I really have no idea about Horace. I would guess he was a Guardian? What else can you be promoted from? Eye?" Maybe an Angel. Although they haven't mentioned those in the series yet. p) "I don’t totally doubt that they see Serena as more valuable as a source of intel/propaganda than to hold her accountable" This is within the realm of possibilities and a pretty good take. (Btw, it reminds me of 'Netgirl_y2k''s fic, heh.) r) "Of course there would be viewers praising a mob if they kill

21) Serena" Of this I have no doubt. -_- s) "Personally speaking, I don’t want Serena killed. Other characters, I hope die in painful ways. *coughfredcough*" i don't want her to die either! Tbh, if they actually gave her a violent death, it would feel like a punch in the gut, bc I'm too attached to her character already, lol. Personally, I want her to live and atone for her crimes. And maybe get a life imprisonment? (@Anon 2, I agree with you on this.) I'm still a bit cautious, bc I wanna see

22) where they're going with her arc first. As for Fred? I don't really care what happens to him, lol. t) In a way I actually feel sorry for Serena, even if she did get herself into this disaster, and she’s perpetuated it in the worse possible way she could. Like, her growing desperation and loneliness and need for connection as Gilead goes on is actually… sad?" I feel the same way about her and I mean, wasn't this the point of her arc in the last half of S2?

------

Yeah. Meeting those sorts of people IRL is a bit terrifying? Like, there are even some conservative politicians (Canadian) that I can think of that bother me cos for the most part, I feel their ideology to be despicable. But there are other things about them that are good? Like, yes, I hate you for most of your existence but I can’t say you’re totally evil cos those other things you do/say are actually really solid. It’s such a conflict. Like there was one Tory that was an EXCELLENT speaker, so fucking smart, really amazing woman--if she hadn’t had her priorities all ass-backwards. Like, GIRL, you could be doing SO MUCH GOOD for us, but you’re taking that dumbass, repressive route instead. And, I’ll have to admit, a few of the policies/bills or whatever she put forth were good for women (x) (x). It’s just....A MESS. Like... look at that POTENTIAL. But no, you have to be not nice instead (anti-abortion/anti-choice, anti-social finding, pro-capitalist, anti-environment, pro-big business, anti-harm reduction, anti-marijuana, etc).

(But then, ofc, there are women that I just flat out can’t stand or simply terrify/disgust me with their ideas. I just do not understand how they exist at all. Like what planet do they inhabit? Which is why I read Andrea Dworkin’s “Right Wing Women” and I gotta say, it makes A LOT of sense about getting into these sorts of women’s heads. And deffo gives a perspective without asking anybody to sympathise or agree with them. Cos, Dworkin is very much NOT right-wing and can’t stand them either.)

Re: Horace. I’d really like them to address Angels as such. Like, I guess they’re there but they’ve never been referred to as such. Again, it seems like THT doesn’t really want to get into the nitty gritty details.

I think... yeah. Tuello’s whole thing was implying that Serena would not be punished much, if at all, for her participation in Gilead. Which could mean either a) she’s far more valuable as a tool, or, b) the US is unaware of her role in the bombing. (Hell, we’re not even clear on her role other than she and Fred fantasised about it. And FRED suggested it to the SOJ.) OR, he could just have been lying. 

I’m sure the US has no idea what Serena’s actually been up to in Gilead, and they’re not really going to go after her for suggesting Fred attack those kids who shot at her, assaulting people or kidnapping or baby stealing--cos really... they can’t? They wouldn’t know any of that other than the babystealing cos that’s just part of the society down there. They likely know she’s a co-conspirator cos obvs she’s Fred Waterford’s outspoken, anti-feminist, riot-causing wife. She’s not some shrinking violet. 

I think a lot of people want her punished for EVERYTHING. But legally, I don’t see how she can be. The majority of those terrible things we see her do, nobody knows about other than her, June, Rita, Fred and Nick. The US/Canadian govt certainly doesn’t. Nobody knows about the execution of the kids, except Fred and those dudes that were with him. And again, her crime technically was only insinuating Fred should do something. She can’t really be put on trial for creating Gilead, because she didn’t? That was all the SOJ. Sure, she “helped write the laws”, whatever the fuck that means, lol. Not exactly a solid foundation for a war criminal charge.

The standard for war crimes is actually really high, with a big burden of proof. As much as WE may know that Serena may fit the bill here, for a democratic nation they may not have the evidence to charge her with it. (I was just watching some Nazi documentary lol). If they can prove she was behind blowing up Congress, then that is something they could use for sure.

And pretty sure the US can’t charge her with any of the things she’s done IN Gilead. You can’t just take someone from another country and charge them with like domestic abuse in yours for something they did in theirs where it’s not illegal -- unless it’s an international crime or war crime. The US, when it comes down to it, doesn’t seem to have A LOT to go on so it seems like she’d be more valuable as propaganda and intelligence, rather than making an example of her. It’s like racketeering for the mob. To them, likely Serena is a little (or more like medium) fish when they want to catch the BIG fish (aka bring down Gilead).

Non-judicial “justice” is likely the only option for Serena being punished for the things she’s done within Gilead. My personal thought is to have her suffer similarly. Like have her experience some of the things she’s done to others, via some means. Is that fair/just? Likely not technically. I mean, it gets so complicated.

But I mean, it all depends what comes out in coming seasons about Serena’s exact involvement in things she did against the law IN the USA, when it was still that.

(Yes, I mean, I feel that fic is basically the sort of thing Tuello was hinting at. And it’s really not unheard of for the first defectors to get all sorts of plea deals and such, especially if they’re valuable in other ways. The sheer number of Nazi war criminals who went on to live perfectly fine lives in the US, UK, etc is actually shocking to me. And then I think of the sorts of disgusting plea deals they make with serial killers here. Karla Homolka, I’m looking at you, you disgusting creature. She’s out there living her life all free and shit, even though she is a literal monster.)

“Tbh, if they actually gave her a violent death, it would feel like a punch in the gut, bc I'm too attached to her character already, lol. Personally, I want her to live and atone for her crimes.“

Same, same, same. I think a violent death for her would... just be so... incoherent with the show’s main themes in a way? Despite the vocal viewership’s bloodlust for her. But hey, that’s me. And like you say, a lot of this is pretty premature because we have no idea what they’re doing with her arc. My opinions could all change with more info, and depending what she does/experiences in the meantime. Who knows! What a ride lol.

“As for Fred? I don't really care what happens to him, lol.“

EXACTLY. Honestly? I don’t care about him much at all. I hate him. But as long as he doesn’t get off scott-free, I don’t really care. This story isn’t about him.

Lol, I’d like to think that was the point of her late-S2 arc... but apparently we’re in the minority for seeing that lol. Though from interviews, I believe that is what the showrunners were going for. Seems obvious to me, haha! 

[clubofinfo]

Expert: After a tumultuous week which brought a number of nasty shocks and alarms, including the shooting down of a Syrian jet by the United States military in Syria, spiraling tensions, and fears of direct US-Russian confrontation in the Middle East, on Wednesday evening yet another horror story jumped off the screen and out of the evening news on German public radio to slap me in the face with the full force of its repellent vulgarity. The most infamous and despicable living war criminal, America’s Henry Kissinger, was once again being honored and treated as a wise elder statesman by a major world figure who claims to be an advocate of human rights and justice. The occasion was a ceremony commemorating the 70th anniversary of the Marshall Plan in Berlin, where the depraved one was allowed to represent his adopted country, as it was thanked for helping to rebuild Germany following the Second World War. I could feel my blood pressure rising, as it does every time I see this poisonous creature fawned over by powerful and influential “leaders” who purportedly stand for human rights, justice and democracy. Whether it is Hillary Clinton, who referred to the mass murderer during her presidential campaign as a “great friend of democracy” – the same man who helped put in power dictators such as Chile’s General Augusto Pinochet, overthrowing a democratically-elected leader in the process and ushering in years of torture, murder, and repression, to name only one in that category – or Ms. Merkel, who loves to talk about the “shared values” of NATO and European Union members, but dallied with Kissinger embarrassingly this week before cameras in apparent blissful, willful obliviousness to his bloody record; or Barack Obama, who, in a moment of stupendous and supreme Orwellian shock theatre, awarded the world’s most famous war criminal the “Distinguished Public Service Award” a couple of years back: Kissinger is courted by heads of state and major power brokers as if he had made the world a better place, instead of being a major player in the initiation of the events that have produced today’s spreading chaos and grim death watch for our planet. “Realpolitik”, they call it, and no one is more strongly associated with that term than the malevolent old German by birth, born Heinz Kissinger, who as a Jew fled from the Nazis in 1938 and emigrated to America. Among his famous quotes are such unforgettable classics as “There are no permanent friends, only permanent interests,”…“The illegal we do immediately; the unconstitutional takes a little longer,” … “… and if they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern,”…“It is an act of insanity and national humiliation to have a law prohibiting the President from ordering assassination,”… and the refreshingly candid “Military men are just dumb, stupid animals to be used as pawns in foreign policy.” For years, as National Security Adviser and Secretary of State during a crucial and formative period in modern American history, he acted vigorously upon those chilling Machiavellian principles with results that have only grown more apparent and damning in the historical perception of anyone willing to trace the development of the current status quo. No brutal strongman was too nasty to merit US support if it was considered necessary in terms of preventing the spread of socialism and achieving the aims of United States Realpolitik. “Democracy” and “freedom” were public relations terms for domestic American consumption only. Kissinger did not only support and shake the hands of tyrants, he smiled broadly and convincingly for the cameras while doing so. His sincerity was only too obvious. After spending much of my adult life as an expatriate living in Germany, I find such encounters not only horribly depressing, but increasingly revealing regarding the true nature of the European governments which I once considered far more enlightened than the American ones under which I grew up. The death penalty was abolished here long ago. I found post-war Germany’s historical policy of giving asylum to foreigners threatened by political persecution to be a noble sign of atonement for its Nazi past, even if its support for Israel in the face of decades of war crimes and military occupation of Palestine was the morally corrupt downside of that atonement. The environmental policies here which once looked so progressive, in comparison to America’s absolute refusal to take any meaningful steps to prevent the coming disaster, now stand revealed as window dressing and fig leaves, as Trump’s environmental apostasy has given Europe an opportunity to revel in its comparative enlightenment, although the practical effects of that superior approach will be just as non-existent. Although Merkel was always maddeningly conservative on all issues related to the American alliance – refusing to criticize the war in Iraq, for example, when she was CDU party leader but not yet Chancellor, even as the Schröder government of Social Democrats and Greens refused to participate in that war and vocally condemned the invasion; and quickly changing the subject following the brief NSA scandal associated with the Snowden revelations, after it was revealed that her personal cellphone had been tapped, and she had pretended that the German government was not involved in such activity itself (now known to be pure deception) – she nonetheless represented her conservative party’s left wing. I have defended her against charges that her actions at the height of the massive refugee influx into Europe two years ago were not based on sincere compassion, and on a desire to help desperate humans fleeing from war zones where survival was increasingly dangerous and difficult. She took on her party’s right wing and much of the EU, and risked her political future for quite some time. But now, Kissingerian Realpolitik is once again ascendant as she runs for her fourth term in the Chancellor’s office. On Thursday, German media ran multiple reports that her government will again begin deporting Afghan refugees who are rejected for asylum back into the war zone, where multiple recent terrorist attacks have taken place in the capital of Kabul, which the German government had until recently designated as “safe” along with other regions of the country (although these claims have been hotly contradicted by groups and organizations active there). A few weeks ago, as a planeload of Afghans was about to take off from Berlin for Kabul, a major attack in the direct vicinity of Afghanistan’s German embassy, which killed some 150 persons, exposed the true nature of that cynical assertion. The flight was canceled and the government said it would review the situation. Now, a few weeks later, they are about to resume the deportations. The election campaign is in full swing: in September, national parliamentary (Bundestag) elections will take place.  All polls show that many right-wing, racist and xenophobic voters who had deserted Merkel’s CDU in anger over her refugee policy, to support the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), are now returning to the CDU in the wake of her near-reversal on refugee issues. The refugee issue and the issues of terrorism and “domestic security” (“innere Sicherheit”) are all being linked in her party’s campaign, and fear of foreigners is being consciously and deliberately nourished. The 600 to 700 attacks on refugees and migrants by vicious, xenophobic thugs which take place in Germany each year have disappeared from the news: apparently violent neo-Nazis and their fellow travelers are not considered to be a threat to that domestic security. I thought about all of these things as I looked at the photo from Berlin of Merkel smiling and shaking hands with a buoyant Kissinger, her other arm on his shoulder, in what struck me as an odd combination of Realpolitik-groupie behavior and condescending courtliness. The shame that I feel as an American citizen for the foreign and military policy carried out in my name for many years by the repulsive Kissinger and his brutal ilk was accompanied by growing anger — over the huge gap between the rhetoric and stated ideals of the European Union as contrasted with the reality of its policies; the walls and the barbed-wire fences being built in Southern Europe; the new legal walls and corrupt deals being built to keep the world’s most desperate victims of war and poverty as far away as possible; the continued alliance with the power responsible for much of that war, and the taboo against speaking about the real causes of a large part of the refugee crisis; the infuriating cooperation in the campaign of lying propaganda against Russia, and the refusal to admit that European, American, and NATO mistakes and duplicity are responsible for the New Cold War (as in the case of the United States they were, largely, for the original Cold War); and over the glib designation of those of us who oppose these policies as “extremists”, while those who practice this deadly and disastrous Realpolitik are nonetheless presented as responsible and prudent statemen and citizens who uphold the noble values upon which NATO and the EU are allegedly based. Any head of state who claims to believe in human rights, peace, and democracy makes a mockery of every word when they honor the depraved Henry Kissinger who, in spite of the best efforts of the late Christopher Hitchens and many others, has yet to stand trial for his unspeakable crimes.  Merkel looks to be well on her way to proving herself a worthy disciple. http://clubof.info/

[findanswers4life-blog]

This Week's Q&A

Why does God allow suffering?

Why does God allow suffering? Without doubt, throughout history this has been one of the most frequently asked questions. No one will ever remove all the mystery by adequately answering this question. However, we can seek to answer it with some degree of assurance, thanks to God's Word.

God never intended for suffering to be necessary. However, mankind intervened. Consider the following: 

God created a paradise for mankind to enjoy--with no suffering. The book of Genesis describes the time when God gave Adam and Eve everything necessary for a perfect, painless life. If our first parents had obeyed God, paradise would not have been lost and suffering would be an unknown experience. However, we have learned that God wanted a loving relationship with mankind even more than He desired to prevent suffering. That desire is extremely important to grasp.

For a loving relationship between God and us to be possible, He had to give us free will so we would have an opportunity to choose to love Him back. If God had not made that possible, we would be robotic creatures just like the trees, birds, fish, planets, etc. God placed within every human being a soul that contains a mind, free will, emotions, desires, a conscience, and many other amazing capabilities because He made us in His image and likeness. We are made like Him to be able to relate to Him and, most importantly, worship  and love Him.

We cannot question any of God's motives since as our Creator, He has the sovereign right and power to make us any way He chooses. He provides the direction for how He wants us to live. He gives us the power to accept or reject Him. In fact, God sets Himself up for suffering by doing that. He exposes Himself to misunderstanding, rebellion, and hatred. Jesus even suffered death on a cross because He loves us so much. What a mystery! That is why this question about suffering stumps so many. We are tempted to think if we were God, we would do a better job managing this planet. Some even go so far as to mock God as cruel and despicable, not worthy of our trust and love.

God knew before He created mankind that the price tag for love was suffering. He was prepared to pay that price for us so we could be redeemed back to His original purpose, to love and be loved. The entire Bible is a love story with suffering written from start to finish . . . or so we think. We sometimes think death is the end and this world is all that matters. But that is not true.

"He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, familiar with pain. Like one from whom people hide their faces he was despised and we held him in low esteem. Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering." (Isaiah 53:3-4)

This world is a parentheses. Before sin entered the world, paradise prevailed. After sin, suffering entered the world. After sin was atoned for through the death of the Messiah, when we choose Jesus, we are destined for heaven, where suffering is removed forever (paradise is restored). Suffering will not exist in the new creation planned by God. God will not allow suffering any longer for all who have had their sins removed. In other words, through Christ and the cross, the sins that caused suffering are forgiven and we are restored to a sinless condition in the eyes of God. We are seen as choosing to love God by believing Him and trusting Him and obeying Him, using our free will to genuinely fulfill God's purposes for His glory and our eternal joy.

"Yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all." (Isaiah 53:4-6)

For more on this very important question, please visit the FAQ tab and scroll down to "If God Is Good and All-Powerful, Why Does He Allow Suffering?"