#it was a beautiful church with the most amazing stain glassed windows that would paint your skin and the floors colours on sunny days

[russ14nmade]

I am thinking about Kays first visit to where his fathers old church was; which was knocked down and the remains where turned into a park which now dominated by apartments surrounding it and he can still visual where he'd run between the church pews as a child

[cemeteryreviews]

Church Reviews #6 - Basilica of Our Lady of Chiquinquirá

This is a church that is kinda hidden, it doesn't have its own square or park and it is practically nested between the rest of the buildings on its street. Nevertheless, it is definitely worth watching.

At first you think, hey this is just another pale church, you know. The beige color isn't my favorite, and I feel sometimes it can get this sick complexion I don't enjoy, but the way it creates shapes is sublime, pointy tips over pointy tips and lots of little details to fill in the eye, it strikes you deeply when you see it. I was just going by on a bus when it suddenly jumped into my field view, I had to get out of the bus and walk to it, it was calling to me. You can also see there is a red thingy at the top that looks like a clock, but it doesn't seem to have any hands and it has instead two dates, 1925 and 1959, which I would assume are the start and the end years of its construction. Red is quite a provocative color which can make it seem odd with the rest of the entrance, but it makes sense when you go inside.

This church is a masterpiece in color. It boasts a pastel color palette that just looks regal, it is dazzling, it is amazing. Every shade compliments column, each arch, each material. I have no freaking clue what material it is built on, it could be stone or brick, but it most likely has a layer or plaster or stucco that gives that creamy texture to the place and that texture is absolutely perfect for the pastel colors. It is perfect, it's just perfect. This style are the colors of joy. Inside it smells a lot like incense, or might it have smelled that way if there was a celebration recently, needles to say, I do love the smell.

But that is not everything, because aside the pastel colors, this church has stained glass windows. The Church of Lourdes had stained glass windows with paintings, but these do not have any paintings on them, just shapes and patterns, which in my opinion makes it look a little bit better, it doesn't make them look busy when you look at them, and when the sun of the afternoon creeps in, it is an amazing sight to behold, the joy of the sun in colors.

You just have no clue, you have no fucking clue the sheer and pure joy that the light of the sun through stained glass windows gives me. It makes me shed a tear and feel alive, so alive, as if I was bathing in light, between the cosmic rays of nature and the smile of the human nurture. This single little detail can elevate a place like this into incredible heights.

The altar has this golden and red ornamentation as well some touches of green here and there like with the cloth that covers the table. It is fantastic, it might look... I don't know, kinda like it is 3/4 way there? But then you see the windows, which are not just stained glass windows but they have the primary colors, which gives the altar any vibrancy it might have lacked. It completes it and fills the place with light. Remember how the altar of San Francisco is all dark and dim? Well this one isn't dim, it doesn't reject the outside world but welcomes it, and when the sun passes through those windows, I feel joy in my soul.

There are some other details I really like, like the railings that were sponged with red paint, this beautiful symbol in black and white, as well as the fact there was an actual organ in the church. Do you have any idea how rare that is around here? Most churches use those Yamaha synths that just sound bad in a lot of the settings. Yes, a lot of those keyboards have an actual and decent church organ setting, but they do not use it! They use the shittiest sound imaginable. I feel that the person who got this organ decided to bring it here so none of the people who play or sing ever dared to use those keyboards and select their shitty synth setting. With a physical organ, you have the sound secured. Yes, it's not quite a pipe organ, so it is not quite there, but when you hear it, it feels so so much better and gives an atmosphere to the place that it really deserves.

Sadly not everything is great, since yes, this also has a terrazzo floor. It is not a floor I really like, but this church, with the pastel colors, almost makes it work. I'm not saying that it makes the terrazzo feel proper for a church, but the church with all its paste colors and windows and gets as close as possible to a palace and blend in with the terrazzo, so it feels a lot more at home here than in a church like San Fransisco. If I liked getting tattoos, I would tattoo myself MEMLIX, because it sounds like a cool deity name.

The doors are fantastic, just fantastic. They do not have the gilded wood carvings of San Fransisco but they are indefinitely more detailed that your average church door. They have a a fantastic color that contrasts with the paler ones from the columns of outside.

See that? That is light from the yellow stained glass windows of the altar. There isn't a light as wistful and romantic as this one, when the sun is about to start to set. I love it deeply with all my heart.

The columbarium is in the first floor and to be honest it looks a lot less polished, pristine or liminal than the one in the Church of Lourdes, which disappointed me a bit. But, it had a checkered floor that I enjoyed, even if it looked dirtier. There was an old lady that told me I couldn't take any photos, so I won't post any here. I'm saving the only one I took as a keepsake of my heresy.

8/10

[katiebgetaways]

St. Peter’s Basilica.

I am writing to describe the pure and absolute awe of the sight of St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City, as it was my favorite sight visited so far on this most Grand of Tours! The mere stature of the structure and the towering columns that hug either side illustrate just how absolutely magnificent it is. The Basilica is set on a high pedestal staircase as the centerpiece of the Piazza San Pietro, and its shape in connection with the columns illuminate an oval that creates flow and direction of the eyes, mind, and body toward this magnificent structure. One gets a sense of rising adrenaline ascending up the staircase and into the church, furthermore experiencing an explosion of awe, disbelief and pride when I walked through the doorways of the entrance to reveal the Basilica in its entirety. Surrounded by every kind of art, I did not know which direction to look, but I was struck with amazement in every direction. I enjoyed the freedom the open space of the floor gave me to explore in any direction I chose.

Beginning at the throne sculpture of St. Peter (pictured), I engaged in a scholarly discussion about the medium, origin, and importance of the figure. I reflected that its placement on the floor of the Basilica, off-center and distant from the altar, was interesting to say the least, considering it was our infamous St. Peter that was sitting proudly on the throne.

I further wandered the floor and upon seeing many large, high-rising High Renaissance paintings, I stopped in awe of another sculpture, the Tomb of Pope Alexander VII (pictured). I pondered the symbolism of the skeleton and the hourglass it holds. The skeleton is peeking through the drapery under the kneeling Alexander while the hourglass is clear and visible, as it serves as a reminder of death. The sculpture was very powerful in sight and in meaning.

I stopped my wanderings to observe a service was being performed. This is the place where my emotions came at a climax. The altarpiece (pictured) was beyond words. The flecks of gold sunlight surrounding a stained-glass window sat above another empty throne, which I inferred to be the throne of Jesus and/or God himself. These flecks of sunlight I determined to be either plastered or sculpted and attached to the back wall of the structure, and its naturalistic appearance made it seem so realistic and so much more beautiful. Its naturalism reflects the High Renaissance style, very indicative of the time the Basilica was built and the form of artistic expression it followed. This sight combined with the singing priests and the organ music overhead brought me to tears. As a raised Catholic woman coming to realize she is standing in front of the altar of the religious center of the world, the feeling was indescribable. Many memories of my late grandmother flooded me in this moment, as I was reminded of my many churchgoing Sunday mornings with her and could think of nothing more than how much she would have loved this.

I should note that the reflections above are only reflections of my most impactful moments of the tour, and in no way devalue any and all of the sights I saw. The Basilica in its entirety was amazing. Overall, an absolutely unforgettable experience.

[mikeluciraphgabe]

Church Fun

Gabriel stuffed, yes stuffed, the three older archangels into his car and skipped over to the drivers side. “Gabriel, what in dad’s name are you making us do?” Michael hissed from the passenger’s seat. Michael was in the middle of a movie with Sam and it was just getting good when Gabriel literally dragged him out of the room.

Gabriel smiled at him and turned the car on. “Put y’all’s seatbelts on!” Gabriel giggled to himself at the inside joke he had with himself. He waited until he heard four clicks before leaving the Bucker. Safety mattered, even for archangels.

Gabriel drove for a good ten minutes before parking in front of a church. Raphael let out a weird noise and stiffened. The other two raised their eyebrows before getting out. Gabriel dragged the three into the church. “Gabriel, what is going on?” Michael asked, looking around at the walls and ceiling. He would give the humans credit, it was actually pretty beautiful.

Gabriel hummed and looked at some of the statues that this particular church had. He then lead his confused brothers to the side of the church and look up at the windows. “Hehe Michael, they made you look like a girl.” Gabriel giggled and pointed to one of the larger windows. It showed Michael’s six blue wings unfolded and a soft feminine-ish face.

Michael growled lowly. “Shut up Gabriel. At least they didn’t make me a full on girl.” He teased back, pointing to the window that had Saint. Archangel Gabriel underneath the picture of Gabriel with his wings spread out. Gabriel pouted. He hasn’t even used a female vessel. The only one that was ‘female’ was a trans male. (Female turning male if that didn’t make sense)

Lucifer hid a laugh by stuffing his face on Raphael’s shoulder. “Look at what they did to Raph! They gave him red wings.” That was an insult for angels. Only one angel has ever had red wings and they where even more evil then Lucifer. That angel died long before the humans though. They tried to kill Chuck once and Chuck was forced to kill them. Every angel still loves them though.

Raphael huffed annoyed. “How did they get red form green!?” Honestly though!

Gabriel patted Raphael’s shoulder comfortingly. “At least they didn’t do you they way they did Lucifer.”

Michael fell to the floor in giggles when he saw Lucifer’s window. Lucifer, the most beautiful angel there was, painted as the ugliest thing. Michael honestly could not stop laughing. Lucifer pouted. “That’s just rude! My true form looks nothing like that! I’m not even red. And my wings are pink!”

Gabriel laughed as he moved on to the next thing. “Come on! Keep up assholes.” The other three glare at the stain glass windows before following the youngest archangel. Gabriel lead them into the altar and flipped off one of the statues that reminded him of Balthazar.

Sense it was Sunday, so the room was filled and there was a pastor preaching. Then, quickly and quietly, they move to the back and sit down on one of the benches. “God doesn’t want us to love the same gender the way a husband would love his wife-“

“Whao! What!? When the fuck did he say that!?” Gabriel called out. He doesn’t remember his father ever saying that.

The pastor gave him a patient small. “Ah. You must be new to this! Good to know that there is a new soul finding God and His never ending love! To answer your question, Genesis 19. You may use of one of the Bibles that are in front of you if you like.”

Lucifer giggled quietly as Gabriel stood up. This is going to be good. “Ya that entire story is about pedophiles. You know, those people that like to grope kids? They just happened to be two men doing it.”

The priest stood there in shock. Then a middle aged white women turned around. “How dare you go against the word of the Lord! You will burn for that!” The room filled with gasps.

Gabriel chuckled darkly. “And what? Scaring people that they will be going to to hell doesn’t make you go to hell? Also, the Americans in like the 18 hundreds or something paid the English church to make the translation say that. They did that because it made someone get uncomfortable, too bad from them. Go cry to mommy. The word that they used in the Bible actually means pedophilia. When the Bible said ‘If you are man you shall sleep boy’ it ment adult and child. Honestly, does the dude need to spell it out? It’s kind of self explanatory! Man and boy. Two different things. One is a child and one is a adult.”

Michael whistled and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t like all of the eyes looking in his direction. It made him really comfortable. It was very Dean like. The priest blushed with embarrassment. “Sir, please, sit down and keep it to yourself.”

Gabriel glared at him. “No! You are scaring people into thinking they will go to hell for who they love! There is at least 15 children in here that are gay. Maybe bisexual. You then say God has unconditional, unwavering love. But the second you are gay, oh, he no longer loves you. Why kind of bull- bs is that!? Kids, you won’t go to hell because you love someone of the same gender.”

The priest slammed his hand down on the Bible. “Sir! It is not ok! You will go to hell for it children! Do not let this unfaithful man tell you different!”

Gabriel didn’t even flinch. “No fuck you wont! You’re just made because I’m making more sense then that paper! Half of the crap that is on there is, well, crap! It’s been translated so many times in different ways you humans don’t even know what’s ‘right’ or ‘wrong’!”

One of the teens in the room stood up. “Thank you!” She shouted. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say my entire God forsaken life!” The mother of that girl gasped and told her to watch her mouth. “Oh for fucks sake mother! I seriously doubt the dude cares if you use is name in vain.”

Gabriel pointed at her. “He really doesn’t! In fact, He does it Himself!”

The girl tilted her head. “How do you know?” It was general childish curiosity. Gabriel found it kind of cute.

Gabriel smirked. “Well you see-“

“Gabriel no-“ Raphael stood up panicking slightly. Not this again. Something like this has happened once long ago and Raphael honestly didn’t want to relive it.

“Gabriel yes!”

Lucifer looked over at him with a tired expression. “Gabe, not the best idea.”

“Shut up Lucifer. I know that He does because I’m the Archangel Gabriel.” Then he rolled his shoulders back, making shadows with his wings show and the light all went out, the bulbs exploding, and Gabriel’s halo glowed slightly. Everyone gasped.

Micheal sighed. “Gabriel, now you scared the priest!” The man held a cross to his chin and was praying very very fast.

Gabriel stuck his tongue out at him. Gabriel then winked at the girl who was looking at him in amazement and snapped his fingers. He moved himself and his brothers back to the car and drove off laughing hysterically.

“Oh Dad! I can’t believe you just did that!” Lucifer laughed loudly. Raphael was doubled over laughing, wheezing. Michael had his face in his hands but was shaking slightly. “Wait until dad hears that prayer! Oh it’s so over for us!”

Gabriel just continued to laugh and drive. Today was a good day for the second oldest group of siblings.

(I found the fanart on google images)

[saint-kore]

Sins Of The Flesh [18+] (Tim Curry x Reader)

♡ A/N: Hi everyone! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve been going through a bit of a writer’s block unfortunately but now, I’m back with a nice treat! This fic is a bit scandalous but it was really fun to write! I listened to a LOT of Hozier while writing, gives me inspiration of sorts lol.  I honestly haven’t written a Tim Curry fanfic in such a long time. I did/attempted to a couple of times whenever I used to lurk on the CurryFest/CurryGirls forum (which I was wayyy too young to be a part of lmao) and it was a good time and Tim Curry is amazing. Mmh but yes, I hope you all enjoy this written smut feast of a fanfic!  -Persie♡

♡ Word count: 5,901 ♡

♡ Contains: Very NSFW, SMUT, A/U, oral sex, rough sex, penetration with a foreign object, taboo sex/sex in a church♡

--

 The stained-glass windows made the walls of the Gothic-style church glow with a colorful hue as you made your way to the confessional booth. It was dark, the golden rays of the sun just peeking out to paint the sky with a dark blue and lavender hue. The sound of your steps echoing off of the walls made you wince slightly, making you almost slow your walk to keep the noise to a minimum. The silence seeming to greet you in a relief when you did, making your body focusing on the throb erupting through your body as you opened the wooden door of the confessional booth and closed it once you sat down.

You glanced over at the young priest sitting silently next to you, his expression calm and patient as he waited to hear your secrets. In the dim light, you could see his green eyes staring ahead, his full pink lips parted slightly. The scent of him thrilled you; a scent of musk, amber and a note that was unfamiliar to you but seemed to round out the scent with an oozing spiciness that made you clear your throat gently at the flickering heat that hit you.

Your secrets.

The sins that invaded your mind and preyed upon your flesh with a predatory delight. The thought made you put a soft hand up to your throat, looking down in despair. Growing up in a strict, religious household was not easy for you; you often longed to be like your peers and other young women around you who were open and wild; the smiles on their faces were ones of joy and youthful exuberance that you longed to obtain or find within yourself. You hated being proper, you found no joy in being a ‘good girl’. You had urges, urges that were described so blissfully in the adult books you often pilfered since you were a preteen, of lust and yearning. A need that led you in the arms of a sweet-talking boy from your church who clumsily handled your body and deflowered you, both of you writhing with the grace of two unpracticed teens discovering their sexual appetite but it didn’t help the feeling. A burning that skyrocketed whenever you were near the young priest beside you and you felt ashamed. Tears prick your eyes as you close them tightly, memories of the first time you met the priest entering your mind.

A bright, wide smile on his full pink lips and a warm handshake has greeted you, followed by a smooth British accent that complemented his warm, deep voice. His dark hair was neatly combed with not a strand out of place, bright green eyes, and a smooth face. He wasn’t that much taller than you, standing over you by a couple of inches with broad shoulders and a charming mien.

From behind the latticed opening, you could see a rosy flush erupt upon the young priest’s face. He quickly swallowed and looked down from you, closing his eyes and saying a silent prayer to himself under his breath. You took the moment of silence from him to continue your confession to him, your hands gripping at the sides of your chair.

“Welcome. I am Father Timothy,” he greeted gently. His voice made you feel like you were being blanketed in liquid gold and honey. You had heard whispers from the other girls about Father Timothy, followed by giggles and adoring coos about how handsome and sweet he was – something that would have definitely gotten them into trouble if heard. It was not as if you did not notice, your thoughts were riddled with thoughts of curiosity that morphed into an infatuation as you spent more time at the church – learning and serving under him. Maybe it was his wide, boyish grins or the way his eyes locked onto you for a second longer than was deemed appropriate or even the way his hand brushed yours as he looked over your scripture reading for the day. The flit of his long, dark lashes and a wicked beam could make you melt in an instant; a feeling that you had never felt for another person and having them so close and so accessible made it feel so immoral. You both had grown so close over time that he granted you permission to call him by his name when you both studied alone. You made sure not to address him by his name publicly, knowing that it would catch the attention of others who would immediately draw their negative conclusions – and maybe rightfully so. You had noticed that he wasn’t as close to the other volunteers and members of the church as he was to you, giving them small nods of acknowledgement or even engaging in moments of laughter. Yet with you, it seemed more personal and somehow even affectionate the way he would speak and interact with you. His eyes always dancing with a little light, swirling in his deep green orbs when he would look at you. The furtive glances and smiles in your direction when you both around others would make you blush. They were looks filled with interest, thought, flickers of longing, you thought. Maybe you weren’t alone in how you felt…

“Forgive me, Father Timothy, Your Reverence for I have sinned, ” you started, finally looking up at him as you addressed him properly. It made you want to look away once more, but you held his stare. “I have been having…lustful thoughts. It has been causing me great distress. I have been trying to pray away the ache and I have gone unanswered…,” you breathed, nervously clasping your hands together.

“I have,” you confirmed, tugging at the puffy sleeves of your thin shirt. You place a hand against the cool wood of the latticed window as you leaned in closer.

“Please…I need your guidance, Father. The thoughts have progressed…,” you whispered urgently, your voice like a honeyed lull in his ear. “I have been trying to get rid of it on my own,”

Your full lips parted, noticing in the corner of your eye that he had tilted his head to gaze at you through the latticed opening. You dared to gaze back at him before lowering your eyes shyly from his warm expression. Your name had slipped from his beautiful lips in a hushed whisper, making you press your thighs together to hold back the roaring need begging for you to succumb.

“When was the last time you touched yourself?” he asked, watching as you had leaned in closer. Sweat started to form on his brow as he stared at you, beginning to imagine you sprawled out on your bed while your hand drifted down your stomach before sliding into your cotton panties to stroke your slippery wetness. He swallowed hard, thinking about how tight, creamy and slick you must be in those moments and wished that he could have witnessed the moments of you giving in to your most carnal desire. Your soft, cherry lips open in an excited moan as your hands worked yourself to a release, your hand stretching the fabric of your panties.

“Last night…,” you replied to his question, making him glance away as his heartbeat picked up.  His hands were gripped into fists as he tried to maintain control over himself.

“What thoughts have made you commit such a sin?” he asked, closing his eyes tightly when he heard the very faint sound of a moan escape you. He could feel your want bubbling to the surface and permeate the room. He reached down and shakily gripped a crucifix in his hot hands, looking up as he waited for you to respond. His face felt hot, trying his best to calm his shaking hands.  

“Have you touched yourself…?” he inquired quietly, making your heart stopped at how husky his voice sounded. His eyes were set on you once more and you could see that he was breathing heavily at this point.

“They were thoughts about a person I see all the time. All I could think about is him…and how it would feel to have his hands all over me and running over the place I need him most. Sometimes it’s almost too much to think about, knowing that at any moment, I might be blessed enough to have his lips brush mine,” you spoke, feeling your heart begin to pour out.

He dared another glance in your direction, his heart almost stopping when he saw the look in your eyes. Gone was the sparkle of shyness that usually danced in your irises, replaced with a darkened smolder of want as your hand continued to press against the window. Your fingertips seemed to trace the design of the lattice lightly, moving along every curve absentmindedly.

You both stared at each other for a long moment, only the sound of your combined heavy breathing filling the air. You started to feel a bit self-conscious under his stare, beginning to rethink your confession.

“Y/N…we mustn’t,” he whispered at you, as if he did not want anyone else to hear his words. His green eyes were wide, his face closer to the confessional window. “It’s not right. You know that - ,”

You shook your head with a frown, realizing what you were doing and immediately felt yourself shrinking down into yourself. You looked down, your face feeling hot from shame as he spoke, and you immediately stood up. He paused in the middle of his speech when he saw you rise, following you out of the confessional booth when you left. He reached out to grab your hand, making you look back at him in surprise.

“Wait…,” he started before you shook your head, his green eyes studying you curiously once you paused.

“I’m so sorry, Timothy. I’m sorry. I feel so embarrassed. I shouldn’t have done this,” you spoke up, glancing down at your intertwined hands.

“I’m…more so surprised that you have these…feelings for me,” he said with a chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood a bit but the look in your eyes automatically intensified the moment once again.

“It’s hard to deny. Just being near you and around you make me feel good and it just feels different. I always want to feel that way and it has progressed into…this,” you explained, gazing at him with a gentle gaze. You stepped closer to him, reaching out to touch his chest. You held your breath as you did, ready for him to step away from you. You were surprised to see that he stood rooted to the spot that he was in, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. You kept you hand on his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You could feel his heartbeat through the fabric, feeling it slowly begin to pick up beneath your palm. You blinked once he took his hand from his chest and brought it up to his lips to kiss your hand, placing a kiss to each one of your knuckles. You watched closely, his soft lips moving to kiss around to the inside of your wrist. You gasped gently at the sensitivity, his eyes moving to meet yours again as he pulled his lips back. His eyes slowly gained a hazy look to them as he eyed you, stroking the inside of your wrist as if he wanted to embed the kiss he placed there into your skin.

He reached to cup your cheek, the sensation making you focus on your breathing and your hand clenching at his chest, crumpling the creased fabric in your fist. Timothy seemed to hesitate for a moment, breathing from his mouth as his gaze roamed over your face and down your body.

“God, forgive me…,” he breathed, making you furrow your brows in confusion and hoped that he wouldn’t pull away again

A sharp cry escaped you, your hands moving to grip the sides of the altar as he moved his head from side to side. He let out a ravenous moan, spreading your thighs wide as he continued to devour you. His hot tongue slid from your tight opening and up to circle around your slippery jewel, eliciting a shaky moan from you. He latched his mouth around it, moaning at the taste of you. He used his thumbs to spread the puffy lips of your pussy, moving his lips from you for a moment to watch your wetness drip down your quivering cunt. He moved to lick at every drop that you gifted him, his tongue then moving to lash at your opening before he gripped your ass and pressed his tongue deep inside of your creamy slit.

“Wh--,” you were unable to finish your thought as he pressed his lips to yours in a deep kiss, both his hands coming up to cup your face as he did. You were surprised by the action but quickly began to move your lips against his, the desire that had pooled inside of your over time started to come out in that moment. You moved your arms to wrap around his neck, your hand clenching at his dark hair and tugging lightly. He let out a soft groan and moved to lift you, making you let out a surprised gasp before immediately caught yours again. You kissed him back, making sure to hold onto him as he carried you towards the white marble altar. He carefully laid you across the it, the flowers that were laid upon it falling to the floor. His hands moved up your legs, bunching your skirt up to expose your soft skin to him.

You watched with heavy lidded eyes as he parted your legs and was immediately greeted with the sight of your soft thighs and thinly covered pussy, hearing him let out a deep, guttural groan as he buried his face against your mound. He let out a moan as he inhaled the scent of you before nipping at the cotton of your panties that concealed your wetness from his hungry mouth. You shifted against the altar, feeling him grab ahold of your hips and pulled you closer to him. His hand pushed your long skirt up higher to grab at the waistband of your panties. You put your legs up as he slid them off, his hands moving to hold your legs up and together by your thighs before he pressed his hungry mouth to your juicy mound.

You let out a needy moan, his eyes watching in awe as you pulled and tugged the thin, puffed cotton shirt off of your upper half. Your nipples immediately hardened when the air hit them, his eyes glittering at the sight. He moved up to press your breasts together, suckling hard on your sensitive nipples before moving to give the other equal attention pulling a lewd moan from your throat. He slid his tongue between the valley of your breasts with a hungry moan before pulling back. He moved down to roughly pull off your skirt, tossing it on the ground and leaving you completely naked upon the altar. He knelt back down between your thighs, his hands firmly pushing them up and apart.

Hearing you coo out his name as his pink lips pressed against the pulsing jewel made him close his eyes, his cock twitching beneath his soutane. He reached down to rub himself through the dark robes, his hardness straining against his pants. He moaned deeply as he continued to lap at your wetness, obsessed with the taste of you.

You kept them in the position that he set them in, letting out a long hum of pleasure when he circled his tongue up and down the length of your pussy once more before giving little suckles at your throbbing clit.

You could not contain the passionate moans and gasps that left your lips at the sensation, one had moving to clasp over your mouth to try to muffle the sound. You were gratefully that you both were the only ones at the church at the moment. Your thoughts were interrupted when his tongue slid out of you to latch onto one of your nether lips, moaning as he suckled on it like a ripened peach. His green eyes looked up at you, urged on by your moans to continue as his nibbled on you lightly before turning to bite at the soft skin of your thigh, suckling hard to leave a mark in its wake. He licked and suckled his way all over your thighs, nibbling and biting sharply at the smooth skin. He moved back in, slurping up your wetness as he continued to grip and knead your ass. He pulled back with a shuddering breath, his darkened eyes watching you squirm in anticipation of his next move.

“Timothy…,”

Timothy felt your gushing wetness dribble down his chin continued to thrust his tongue in out of you, moaning out as you gripped at his head and made him bury his face deeper into your cunt. He quickly moved his hands down to undo his pants, moaning in relief as he was able to release himself from his pants. He quickly began to stroke himself as he continued to explore your walls with his tongue, his nose pressed and rubbing against your clit. He heard your moans become longer and breathier, making him moan more against you before pulling back. He began to stroke your sensitive clit, licking the taste of you from his bottom lip.

“Oh Timothy…,” you moaned out, unable to recognize your own voice as you called out to him. He latched onto your clit again when he heard you moan out his name again, his needy moan vibrating against you as he began to move his fingers a bit faster inside of you. The sound of your wetness echoing off the vast walls of the church along with your unsteady moans. A hungry moan escaped his lips again, slowly pulling his fingers out of you again before parting your lips again. He buried his face back into your dripping cunt, his tongue sliding in and out of you as he began to tongue fuck you. Your hand remained on the back of his head, clenching and tugging at his black locks as he worked. You shuddered and moaned passionately as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release, his tongue rubbing and sliding against your soaked walls before flitting against the ridged love spot.

“Release for me…please, I want to taste all of you…,” he groaned, continued to press and gently flick your clit and smiling as you twitched under the sensation. You felt something coiling like a spring inside of you, your hips raising up as your body began to tighten as he continued to rhythmically stroke and flick at your jewel. He let out a mewl before he moved to plunge his tongue back inside of you, your mouth becoming dry from your constant moans.

“Yes…yes….,” you moaned out, your walls tightening around his greedy, thrusting tongue as he worked to drive her closer and closer. You suddenly let out a sharp gasp, your hips jolting as you release. He moaned out, his hand swiping and stroking his cock a few more times before he used both of his hands to grip your thighs and held them apart as he licked and slurped down your sweet release. He panted, licking happily at her opening for every ounce of cum that you released. You watched as he stood back up, staring at you intensely as he stroked himself in front of you. Your lips parted, sitting up on your elbows as you watched him. His hand worked up and down his shaft, watching the small pearl of precum form at the tip before his fingers came up to swipe it away as he smoothed around his tip.

“I want to hear you say my name again,” he purred darkly, spreading your lips apart again with one hand as his other hand stroked your wetness slowly. He used one of his warm fingers to press against your wet slit, his lips parting as he watched your wetness glisten against his hand. You whimpered softly, your hips shifting at the new sensation. You heard him murmur at you to relax before he pushed a finger inside of you. You gasped at the new sensation, wanting to clasp your legs together but you kept your legs apart as he invaded her soft, wet walls. Timothy groaned at the feeling of your walls clasping around his digit, leaning up to generously lick at your swollen clit once more. He closed his eyes, moaning to himself as he began to slowly thrust his finger in you. You moaned out, gazing up at the ceiling as tried your best to focus on the sensations occurring between your thighs. The combined colors of the stained windows upon the domed ceiling like a kaleidoscope to your hazy eyes. When he curled his finger inside of you, your hands shot down to grip at his dark hair with a surprised moan. Your thighs tensed as he continued before he moved to push another finger inside of you, moving his fingers in a scissoring motion to open you up.  

He was immediately pulled in by your bright eyes, shy smiles and your will to help others within the church and the charitable tasks that everyone participated in. Yet, he was also ensnared by the sway of your hips, the swell of your breasts beneath your button ups and the soft skin that would occasionally become exposed from your midriff when you would reach for something on a shelf or whenever you would bend down to and your skirt would slide up the back of your thighs. The way you would bite the side of your lip while you concentrate always distracted him or whenever you brush your soft hand against your round throat absentmindedly as you read through scripture. He even would lean close to you in those moments, his nose immediately hit with the scent of your sweet, floral perfume. It was exhilarating and frightening to find you occupying his dreams during the night and silently hoping that it felt real enough just to feel a tiny wisp of your touch on his skin. He had that moment now and wasn’t going to let the moment slip from him.

“Pull your legs up…,” he commanded firmly, making you jump slightly before you grabbed your legs by the back of your knees and pulled your legs up against you. You blushed as your pussy was completely exposed to him once again, watching as he stepped forward with a grin. He began to unbutton his soutane, removing the coat before loosening his shirt after. You began to wonder what he would do next, your heart picking up as all of the possibilities floated through your mind. You hitched a breath as you felt a number finger slide up and down your extremely sensitive pussy. The sensation boarded on being too extreme, a hiss escaping your hoarse throat as he teased you lightly. You suddenly felt cold metal touch you, it was rounded, and you let out a cry as it brushed your slippery clit. You heard a dark chuckle escape him, one that was unfamiliar to you. You felt a renewed dark lust wash over you before a sharp cry escape you as he pushed the item inside of you. Your eyes rolled back for a moment as it plunged into you, making you part your legs slightly. A gasp escaped you when you saw the glint of the silver cross slowly pushed inside of you. He left it planted snugly inside of you, flicking at your clit before giving it a light tug with his lips. He laughed softly at the moan that escaped you, moving towards the other end of the altar where your head laid.

He gently pulled you upward, making you automatically let go of the back of your knees. You kept your legs apart, moaning at the sensation of the cross shifting inside of you. Your head hung off of the altar, watching as his legs moved as he walked back around to your bottom half. You moaned out he made sure that the cross stayed planted inside of your soft, wet opening. Timothy moaned as he could see you pussy clinging at it. You felt his hand brush against your stomach and breasts as walked back around to your head. You felt slightly lightheaded; your lips parting as you watched him exposed himself to your eyes. You studied his veiny shaft, the light pink tip leaking before he took a hold of the base of shaft and brushed against your pouty lips and chin. He traced your lips with the tip, hearing him breathing heavily above you.

“You’re so beautiful…,” he breathed, a groan following quickly behind as his cock twitched in his palm. He looked at your body for a moment, taking in the sight of your bare flesh and immediately thought of all the times he has imagined this before. It was inappropriate, it was sinful, it was all of the things that shouldn’t run through the mind of a man of God but, he was still a man. He knew that dedicating his life to a purpose such as this at a young age would come with its temptations and when he first met you, he knew that you were one of the lures.

“Open your mouth,” he spoke in a raspy tone, his accent heavier than before. You moaned lightly before parting your lips for him, moaning as he plunged his length into your mouth. You closed your eyes tightly, feeling his hot hand grasp lightly at your throat as he slowly thrusted into your mouth. You heard a series of heated moans leaving his lips. Your tongue slid on the top of his cock as he thrusted, clenching your throat tighter. You moaned, your hips twisting slightly as he continued. The sound of his soft praises met your ears, making your moan around his cock. You gagged once he gave a hard thrust, lodging himself in your throat and swallowed around his thick length. You struggled to breathe as he leaned over you, a whimper escaping you as he gave your wet mound a light smack. You moaned loudly around his cock, your eyes clenched tightly as he began to move it inside of you for a moment before giving your pussy a couple of harder smacks and making another muffled cry erupt from you. He gave your wet, suckling mouth a couple of hard thrusts before finally pulling out. You let out a gasp, breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath. You obediently opened your mouth again for him once he came back, groaning as he began to thrust into your mouth once more, his tip moving to enter her throat once more. His hands moved to grab at your breasts, roughly kneading them as he thrusted hard into your mouth. You gagged and coughed around him, focusing on his loving, passionate words and mewling moans through the act. You did your best to take it, his slick cock sliding in and out of your mouth.

“Oh Y/N…,” Timothy moaned out, rolling his hips to plunge his shaft deep into your throat and holding it there. You felt the saliva from your efforts rolling down your face, making you close your eyes tighter. You breathed through your nose, gagging loudly and hearing him groan out as your throat muscles clasped at him. He gave your throat a hard squeeze, making you let out strangled yelp around him. A loud hiss escaped him as he gave you several short yet hard thrusts deep in your throat before suddenly pulling out, gasping again and coughing to catch up with the needed oxygen. Your face was soaked with saliva as you slowly sat up. Your limbs were shaky as you kept your sore legs parted. You moaned as he pressed Timothy pressed his lips roughly to yours, pressing his tongue into your mouth. His tongue swirled around yours before suckling on your tongue lightly, pulling back after. He gazed at you with heavy-lidded eyes, stroking your cheek.

Timothy smirked softly, gently using the cloth from his pant pocket to wipe the mess from your face. He leaned in to give you bottom lip a little suckle and another peck on the lips before leaning his forehead on yours. Your eyes gazed into his green orbs, staring deep into your eyes.

He smiled wider as his hand went between your legs to slowly pull the cross out of your pussy, seeing that he was completely coated with your essence. He moaned as he looked at it, bringing it to his lips to lick away some of your juices while staring into your eyes. He leaned it towards your lips and you immediately opened your mouth to suckle at the warm juices that leaked down the cross. Timothy’s smile faded as he watched with a parted mouth, his swollen lips reddened and wet with your essence. He pulled the cross away to press his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply once more and moaning softly when he could taste you on your tongue.

He threw the cross onto the ground as you parted, nibbling on your lip briefly before grabbed you and turned you to bend over the altar. You let out a soft moan, your hands pressed against the polished marble of the altar. Your arms were shaking as you waited for his next action, feeling him press a strong hand against your back to make you arch. You instinctively stood on your tiptoes, feeling his hands knead and rub your ass once more. You focus on the wall in front of you, feeling the cool metal of his belt brush against the back of your thigh as he got close, his heat radiating against your back side. You let out a hoarse moan, feeling him slowly press himself inside of you. You heard a loud moan leave him as he stretched your walls, his grip on your hips becoming rougher as his fingers pressed into your soft skin. Your hands balled up into fists as you felt his hips press firmly against yours, his shaft settled deep inside of you.

He slowly pulled back before rolling his hips forward, giving you a deep thrust before setting into a punishing rhythm. His hands kept ahold of your hips, the sound of his pants and deep groans filling air as he thrusted into you. You couldn’t hide the passionate moans that left your lips, trying your best to stay up. Timothy took note of this and grabbed a fistful of your hair, keeping you up as he began to thrust harder into you, his hips smacking against your ass.

“Oh yes…,” he moaned deeply, giving a sharp tug at your hair to pull another loud moan from you. He slammed into you a couple of more times and let out a loud moan of pleasure, your cunt gripping his cock firmly. He gave gentle pat to your behind before pulling out, making you lay down on the altar once more.

He grabbed your legs and positioned them over his shoulders, his cock aiming at your drenched slit before slowly pushing into you once more. You watched his face as his eyes rolled back, feeling him rolling his hips against you before pulling back to start up a thrusting rhythm once more. His hips smacked hard against the back of your thighs as he slammed into you, a crying moan living your lips as he continued. He grabbed your hips, helping you meet his thrusts as he continued to plunge into you. His eyes widened as you reached down to rub at your already sensitive clit as he thrusted, a whimper escaping him as he watched your circled your clit and gently rubbed it in time with his thrusts. The sight made him thrust harder, locking eyes with you when he felt himself getting closer to his release. His hand slid up your belly to grip at your throat, clenching firmly as he pounded into you roughly. You kept eye contact with him, feeling his cock throb inside of you. Your moans becoming more and more intense as he continued to roughly handle you. You let out a soft cry as you came once again, your walls rippling around his shaft. You gasped as he clenched your throat tighter at the sensation of you releasing around his cock, giving you a few more hard thrusts before giving you one last hard thrust and kept himself burying himself inside of you as he came hard inside of you.

A loud groan left him, giving shallow thrusts as he emptied himself inside of you. You felt the warmth of his seed spread inside of you; the feeling was comforting in a way. You both stayed intertwined before he slowly lowered your legs from his shoulders. You winced lightly at the sensation, but he handled you with care, making sure not to make your legs swing.

“Come here…,” he whispered as he opened his arms to you, making you slowly sit up to accept his embrace. He leaned down to give you a passionate kiss, nuzzling his nose against yours after. He smoothed your hair back from your face, kissing your forehead before rubbing your arms gently to warm you when he noticed you shiver and gave you another warm, long embrace. He gathered your clothes for you, being gentle as he possibly could with your sensitive body. You felt so special, as if you were made of priceless porcelain with the care that he made sure to give you.

Timothy looked at you with a warm admiration after you both fixed yourselves up. You were carefully as you stood up, his seed still warm in your belly as the vibrant rays of sunlight began to rise and change the color from its former lavender to a true blue as the morning began to come in with renewed life.

“Will you be attending service today?” he asked softly as he walked with you, making you smile at him.

“Maybe,” you responded quietly, glancing over at him. A broad smile broke over his face as he rubbed your back before quickly, chastely pecking your cheek again and stroked your chin lightly. He bit his lip as he looked at you, glancing at the window furtively when he saw cars pulling up to the church, signaling the early risers arriving. He sighed inwardly, not wanting the moment to end. He knew that you probably wouldn’t come to service but wanted to make sure to see you again today.

“See me later then? I want to do this different. Properly…,” he asked quietly, grabbing ahold of your hand momentarily and continued to stroke your chin. You smiled sweetly at him before quickly nodding in response, feeling him squeeze your hand firmly in promise of what was to come before you both parted ways until the moment you would be in each other’s arms once more.

 ♡

[aph-honk-kong]

Heaven Knows

In which an abandoned church makes for an interesting conversation topic. [Set in George DeValier’s Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart.] [Recommended listening/watching: Heaven Knows by Five For Fighting, animated by Alice Jaxerques.] [This story contains discussions about religion.]

  The sunlight shone in through the stained-glass windows, bathing Feliciano in a soft topaz glow. His walking almost looked like dancing, a lovely one-man waltz casting shadows across the dirty, tiled floor of the church.

  “I never saw this place on my walks before.” Feliciano turned back and smiled at Ludwig. “How could I have missed an entire church, especially one that’s so pretty?” He spun around in the multicoloured lights. “Look at all this!”

  He could not deny that the church was pretty, even in its half-dilapidated state. The floor was grubby, the windows were faded and the walls were in need of cleaning, but the painted statues and carved wooden pews were intact. Ludwig watched as Feliciano ran up and down the lengths of the small church, his footsteps echoing. 

  After two laps, he stopped next to Ludwig, round cheeks flushed slightly. “Churches are always so beautiful, with their stained glass and carvings,” he said. “If I ever own a house, I’d want my windows to be made of stained glass.”

  “That would be very colourful.”

  “Exactly! It would look just like a church, except I hope nobody would mistake my house for one. I don’t want people showing up at my door on a Sunday morning.” Feliciano fidgeted with the bunch of heliotrope he’d picked earlier. “Do you believe in God, Ludwig?” He suddenly asked. 

  Surprised by the question, he replied, “I don’t know.”

  “Neither do I.” He gently swung the bunch back and forth. “I know Vino does, because he crosses himself sometimes. And I don’t know about Grandpa. But I like churches anyways.”

  “So do I.”

  “Do you want to get married in a church?”

  Heat pricked at Ludwig’s cheeks. Suddenly, he could not meet Feliciano’s eyes. “Yes, I think so, if I were allowed to.”

  Feliciano laughed. “If we can find a way to fit Greta in here, you can have a wonderful wedding.”

  He tried not to laugh; it was amazing how Feliciano managed to be so silly and serious at the same time. “Maybe not with Greta.” He still couldn’t look him in the eye. “I would love to marry a person in a church, though.”

  “Anyone in particular?” He sounded teasing.

  He stammered, “uh... well...” He became very interested in the grimy floor. “Actually, the person on my mind is - “

 February, 1944:

  Ludwig’s eyes flew open. He was not in the church.

  He sat up, shrugging off the thin, scratchy blanket he and his fellow pilots were given. In the bunk above him, someone snuffled.

  Feliciano’s bright, airy laugh was still fresh in his head, as was his teasing grin. He had had dreams of him every night since leaving him, and a longing wish-fulfilment of the brief time they’d spent in the church just happened to be another one.

  When they’d been to the church, they had commented on the windows and the statues, then left a few moments later to keep picking flowers. If only his dream was what had really happened.

  For a moment, Ludwig saw Feliciano again, smiling with flowers in his hands and leaves in his hair, rambling away with that sweet voice of his. He saw him laughing, running, singing his lovely songs. Just the thought of him made his heart ache. Goodness, they had only been apart for two weeks and he already missed him so.

  Careful to ensure that nobody was looking, he took his photo of Feliciano out of his pocket. He was beaming at the camera, Ludwig’s jacket draped over his shoulders like a cape. He ran his thumb over the photo and sighed. He would see him again one day. 

  He’d make sure of it.

...

July, 1960:

  “Look, it’s still up!”

  Hands clenched tight on the armrests of his wheelchair, Ludwig nearly yelped as Feliciano pushed him towards the church at full speed. The wheels rolled over rocks and clumps of grass before stopping with a jolt in front of the entrance.

  “It’s been so many years!” Feliciano hoisted his wheelchair over the single step with a grunt and rolled him into the church. “Nothing’s changed, huh?”

  The lights shining in from the stained-glass windows were as vibrant as ever, and while the filigree frescoes on the walls were a bit more faded, they brought a smile to Ludwig’s face all the same.

  All was silent until Feliciano spoke up. “It’s nice to see something that wasn’t changed by the war. We only came here once, and I’m glad to be back.” He sat down at a pew and held Ludwig’s hand. “How about you?”

  “I’m happy, too.” He stroked the back of his lover’s hand with his thumb. “Especially since we’re here together.” 

  “Too bad we could never have stained-glass windows at home like I said.” Feliciano kissed his cheek. “I told Vino about that and I think he laughed for five minutes straight. Antonio had to ask if he was okay.”

  Ludwig smiled. “I think our house is beautiful anyways. It’s probably even better than this old place.”

  “This old place?” He repeated. “Don’t be so mean! It’s not that old. You shouldn’t be so rude to the place where we spent time together when we were young.” He kissed his cheek again. “Remember when I asked you if you’d ever get married in a church?”

  He shook his head. “With how the world is today, people like us can’t be married anywhere.”

  Feliciano snorted. “We don’t need to be officially married by an officiant or something. We can just be married because we say so.”

  The years had not stolen away Feliciano’s carefreeness. Ludwig squeezed his hand, imagining if they could ever walk down the aisle. “If that’s the case, then I guess we’re husbands.”

  “That sounds good to me!” He extracted two of the many red daisies he’d stored in the breast-pocket of his jacket, and pulled their stems off. After a few moments, he’d managed to knot a pair of crude rings out of them. “Here, we can wear these.”

  He let his lover (or could they call each other husbands now?) slide the rough green ring on his fourth finger, then press his lips to it.

  Ludwig touched the ring on Feliciano’s hand. “And we did it in a church, too.”

  “So you got your wish after all.” He laced their fingers together, grassy rings pressing against each other. Eyes brimming with quiet joy, Feliciano rested his head on his lap and beamed up at him.

  They were far from young now, probably what most considered too old to get married. But as Ludwig looked down at the man he’d just been unofficially wed to, he felt twenty years old again, a naive young soldier on the streets of Anzio, rescuing an air-headed young man from a beating. He felt youthful, energised, as though he could race all the way back home. 

  “Who will take whose last name?” Feliciano held his hand up to the sky.

  “We don’t have to,” he said. “I couldn’t imagine you as anyone other than simply Feliciano Vargas.” 

  He laughed at that, sweet and clear, and the captivating sound echoed around the church. Ludwig could not help laughing, too. If he had more energy, he’d tell Feliciano just how much he adored him. But he was getting tired, and he settled for swooping down and claiming his lips.

  Only Heaven would know how strong his love was.

[mariabrinksgf]

First Fanfic Ever!! Please don’t hate me😄😄🔞🔞

"Maria? Maria, where are you?" You yell as you look for Maria Brink. You joined her on tour after her boyfriend broke up with her. You helped her out a tough situation. Maria had free time from the bus rides, concerts and interviews. She was acting really strange lately around you. So you decide to bring her to an empty forest were you two can enjoy some peace and quite. Though, Maria strayed away from you.

The leafs crunched as you stepped over them. Some were still damp from the snow melting away but the sun brought them to a crisp. The birch trees were offly grey than usual. Almost like they were either overfed or starved. The rot settled. In the forest, and in your subconscious. You wondered what you were doing here. Not just in this forest but here with Maria. 'Why did she pick me?' you wondered. Being around such strong/popular singers made you look microscopic. You brushed it off and kept searching for Maria. "Maria! Where the hell are you!!" You ran down a steep hill seeing a somewhat clean church. It was very old, the glass stained windows were broken, the steps were loose. The steel fence covered in copper orange rust. Your feet didn't stop as you ran down the hill. Your speed increased and you felt yourself loosing control. You face plant into crushed leaves. A piece of a twig scratched your arm, it became red forming a cut. "Ouch! Shit!" You bit your lip standing up.

The church was locked, you used all your strength to pry the door open not even noticing the back door open. "Jesus are you kidding me." You are now out of breathe knowing you're not in the greatest shape. "Maria owes me one after this." You sighed walking into the old church. There you see before you is Maria standing on the podium. Her back is to you; her arms are above her head praying.

'In my name shall they cast out demons. They shall speak in new tongues.' Her voice echoed through the church. It sent shivers down your spine. It made you feel like you were miles away from her. As you walked closer to her, you felt a godly presence upon you. "Come stand with me my darling." Maria motioned you to be beside her. Her breathe was heavy, her eyes were closed, she was in ecstasy. I watched her entire face relax. Her lips were soft; she kept biting the side of her lip in pleasure. "Can't you feel that baby? It's pure magic here." She crossed her arms breathing in deeply. You feel very calm around Maria as she grabs a hold of your hand. She presses hard feeling your warmth. Your cut on your arm is noticeable, the dry blood ran down to your hand. "Oh my love, what happened?" She turned facing you. Your face heaten as you noticed Maria's kimono had a long V in the middle showing a great extent of cleavage. "I fell outside." Maria knelt infront of you going on her knees. She pressed her forehead on my hand.

'They shall take up serpents. And if they drink any deadly poison. It shall in no wise hurt them. They shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.' Your eyes met with hers as she finished. Your body tingled all over feeling a brief numbness. You reached down seeing you arm was healing before your very eyes. The cut was closing itself. "Come here my darling, allow me to cleanse you." Maria guided me to a tub filled with holy water. Your knees trembled as you knelt down not seeing yourself in your reflection. It looked black, the water. Your stomach turned at the very pit. "Do not worry, you're safe with me love." Maria's hand wrapped around yours giving a tight grip. She used her other hand to bless herself by dipping her fingers in the water, placing her fingers on her forehead. "Mmmm." She moaned to herself. Finally, it was my turn. My arm seeped into the black water. It basically disappeared. The tingle feeling came back. It made yourself hot. You felt this overwhelming amount of pleasure over your body. You moaned out loud not thinking you were that loud but in truth you almost screamed.

"What is this stuff doing to me Maria?" You turned your head feeling drowsy. Seeing doubles. "Oh baby, it's the holy spirit. Let me give you the same pleasure this is giving you." Maria placed her hand on you face. She allowed her shoulder to drop letting her kimono sleeve to drop as well. Showing her perfect skin out in the open. Her bare chest glowed. She pulled me closer kissing me. Her soft lips felt amazing. You tried to place your hand on her shoulder but accidentally touching one of her breasts. They felt soft as well, you thought. You pull away feeling quite embarrassed. She stopped, "Why did you stop beautiful? I really loved it." She put her head against yours. "I-I um...accidentally...touched your-..." Your index finger pointed towards her chest. Maria laughed at you pulling her long platinum blonde hair behind her shoulders. The pieces of jewels on her dreads made a noise. "Oh sweetie," She licked the side of my cheek near my ear. "I want you to touch me." She whispered. "For what you didn't know but tonight is a very holy night." Maria stood up upon her feet.

You clear your throat trying to ease the redness in your cheeks. "What's so special about tonight Maria?" You questioned seeing Maria smile down on you. "Well, tonight is the Great Rite. It's purpose of drawing energy from the powerful connection between two scared souls. Sexually." She pulled her full kimono off. Revealing her naked goddess body. In the natural light it would sparkle with help of the stain glass windows. You reached over feeling her calf. It was very soft, and strong. 'Wait what!' You thought. 'Did she say sexually?!?'

"Umm..Maria? D-did you say s-sexually?" You tried to get up to stand with Maria but she placed her hand on your shoulder pushing you down. "Yes dear. I want to celebrate this holy night with you. Join me please." Maria got on top of you letting her hair go everywhere. You felt the cold slab on your back. Maria's hands went down to your hips caressing the bone. Her hands ran up inside your shirt. She was frozen. Her hands reached your boobs. A gentle squeeze lit your senses up. She ripped off your bra flinging it out of sight. Everything was come flying off. Your pants, your shirt. All that was remaining was your panties. The last thing that she teased you with. 'This will be the most holiest of nights.' She murmured to herself. The slightest touch made the hairs on your arms raise. Her cold fingers ran up and down your thighs feeling her touch the inside of your panties. Handling the fabric on the sides roughly; ripping it off. You were more embarrassed now. "Oh this is truly an honor. Now, baby." She faced you closely, placing her hand beside you head. "Put your feet above your head. Now!" You grabbed your ankles almost touching your face.

"You have such a beautiful little pussy my love." Maria whispered as you felt yourself becoming aroused. You can see her spitting on you. You can feel her drool on your clit running down. You tried not to go nuts as it was your first time but you didn't want to let Maria find out. You finally felt her tongue on your pussy. You held your breathe trying not to make it a big deal but in fact it was. It felt extraordinary. You sucked your teeth, allowing little moans escape. You could feel Maria's head behind your thighs. Her tongue moved around inside you feeling her suck your lips, biting your clit. 'Awe fuck.' You thought as you looked down seeing Maria enjoy every minute down on you.

"Mmm baby, you taste so good." Maria looked up again flicking her tongue inside you deeper. You moaned again realizing that one was really loud. "Keep it up baby, I fucking love that." Maria grabbed your thighs pushing herself deeper inside. You couldn't stop moaning. Your back arched. Every limb vibrated. You can feel her hot breathe. You twitched realizing you were about to climax.

Maria's fingers danced all over your stomach. As she glided along drawing a cross. You gritted your teeth as you rightfully knew you were orgasming. "I'm coming!" You sat up on your hands. The feeling was an sensation you never felt before. The outside world was once bright, now it is a dark red turning black. The stars sparkled, the new moon shined. Maria sat up covered in your love juices. Her hair was stuck onto her face, she glistened. "Oh beautiful, you were spectacular. Sensational." She smiled being horny herself. You sat up feeling your legs shaking.

'My turn.' You thought. You pushed your hand on Maria's chest. Laying her down feeling her hips. She was so curvy, she was plush. Her thick thigh felt like silk. 'If the Holy Ghost. Of the Holy Spirit, speak directly to the Disciple.' She hummed as you spread her legs. You bent down feeling the warmth radiating from her. Maria's thighs twitched against your face. You couldn't believe that this was happening in a church. Not to mention with Maria. You brush off this feeling and begin to eat her inside. Everything about Maria was soft. Her opening was soft, sticky and dripping all over yourself. Drinking up her goodness. She was right. This was an holy experience.

It felt odd doing all of these dirty things in a church with Jesus paintings everywhere. Feeling the Mother Mary's eyes upon us. Watching every movement. It felt risky, which made it more sexy. Maria didn't care. She pulled at your hair. Feeling like she was trying to pull out your hair. Her nails running across your neck. Clawing deep inside. "Awe fuck.." You moaned into her.

Maria sat up pushing your head deeper in her, squishing your face harder into her pussy. "Oh yes baby, make me cum." She smirked holding one of her boobs. "Mmhm." You muffled in as you licked. "Shhh baby! Go faster!" Her legs locked.

You have to finish her off now. You have to start with the finger combo. Just like she did to you. You started to push two fingers inside her pussy. Feeling all sorts of new sensations. "O-oh, babygirl," Maria continued to dig her nails into your neck. Burning. You had the control now.

Her moans were echoing throughout the entire church. "Oh sweetie, I'm gonna cum!" She bit her lip brushing your hair out of your face. "Mmm good." You licked faster, pounding your fingers harder too. Moans turned into sweet, sweet screams. You can feel her tightening around your fingers. You finish with you tongue going on her clit.

"Oh god!! I'm cumming!!!" She tried to push you away from her but your resisted and kept eating her pussy until the very end. You could feel her orgasming on your tongue.

A couple of brief moments pass, Maria and yourself are getting dressed. "Oh honey bunny, that was amazing. You were amazing." Maria walked behind you as you both shut the doors to the church. "Well of course it was amazing, it was with you." You smile walking up the hill where you cut your arm. "Well say goodbye to the church than." You laugh as you both make it to the top of the hill.

As you both turned around to face the church. It's not there. It vanished. "Wait? What the fuck? It was just there.." Maria pointed at the hollow spot were the church was. "Uh Maria? Lets get out of here before we disappear.." You say grabbing onto her hand. "Smart idea."

[a-deadly-serenade]

The Shield and the Sword: Chapter 4: Light After Dark [Alucard/Reader]

You’re a witch that is skilled in herbology, one that has been persecuted by the church for practically your entire life. In spite of this, moving throughout different towns has allowed you to pick up some chatter about a woman in a village called Lupu. She is supposed to be a wonder when it comes to medicine, and this immediately perks up your interest. So after plucking up some courage, you’ve made it to her door… hoping that she takes you as her apprentice.

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True to her word, as soon as things were cleaned up in the kitchen, Lisa was leading you up to the library that had all of the medical textbooks. You went up several winding staircases and through at least a dozen hallways, and you realized, to your dismay, that you were going to have to have Lisa lead you here for quite awhile before you felt brave enough to walk here on your own.

When the both of you finally made it to an arched doorway, she pushed it open and all of the candles simultaneously came alight.

You noticed that this library was a lot smaller than the one you had been in last night, but that did not mean it was any less magnificent. The ceiling was a large glass dome that stretched up high above your heads. Small circular windows lined the north and south panes, each filled with beautiful, intricate, stained glass designs of stars and planets.

Twisted shelves covered every flat surface, filled and piled high with thick books, ancient books, books whose titles even you could not decipher. There were multiple desks that stood in front of the massive towers of books, made of rich, dark oak that shimmered almost black in the sunlight.

Parchments had been slapped on any free surface, all of them filled from top to bottom with diagrams of the human body, certain organs, or even classifications of plants and minerals. One of the most cluttered desks had piles upon piles of parchment, all of them scribbled with extensive notes. There was a large stack of quills, coated in ink, some of them looking as though the top half had snapped off. Beakers lined one corner, obviously having been scrubbed clean, as the water droplets that clung to the glass glistened like morning dew.

“I see that you’ve found my work station,” Lisa admits sheepishly. “It’s not the most organized, but its my space and where I have found to be the most productive for me.

“I was not judging you, Lisa,” you teased. “My mother certainly did not get her tidiness from my grandmother, let me tell you.”

Lisa chuckled, and walked you over to a nearby desk that had been placed nearly adjacent to hers. “This is where you will be seated whenever you need to come here and do some independent study, but when you must sit next to me, there will be a chair but beside my desk. You can also use that if you ever had any questions!”

You gave an elated smile, and ran your fingers across the smooth surface. “So,” you said. “What is the first lesson on the agenda?”

The two of you spent the rest of the morning, as well as most of the afternoon, in the library. Lisa had took the time to go over the very basics of human anatomy as a refresher, as you only had a very vague concept of the body. She wanted you to familiarize yourself with each part, and she made it much easier to remember by breaking up the body into what she called, “systems”.

There were 12 of these systems that ran throughout the human body. There was one to help you breathe, (respiratory!) one that dealt with your nerves (nervous!), and even one that contained solely your blood vessels (circulatory!). It was quite extraordinary.

She stressed that it was important for you to know all of this so that you could adequately pinpoint where the problem was and then be able to do the necessary tests to make a diagnosis.

Even when you countered that you could easily heal simple coughs or fevers with your magic, she wanted you to understand where they came from, and not just rely on your skills to be a good physician.

Luckily, when she started to touch on the treatment options available, you were much more familiar with these terms, as they were all plants! If there was one thing you knew you were capable of, it was making a good potion or tonic.

Even Lisa was impressed by your mastery of herbology, and you went so far as to offer her some tips after she gave you several samples of a brew she had been in the process of perfecting. It had been for the treatment of a respiratory infection, and after seeing the astonishing amount of ingredients Lisa had at her disposal, you offered that she add more starburrs and aloe, picking up that her potion lacked the clearing effects of getting rid of mucus, and the soothing effect patients needed for their chest tightness.

You believed that it had been an incredibly eventful day, your arms filled with an array of books and several rolls of parchment as you sat back down in front of your desk. You had chosen texts that were all about liver, not really knowing all that much about it, except, like your grandmother had stressed so many times, it takes care of all the alcohol.

Not like you had ever been too big of a fan of drinking to begin with.

You dipped your quill into some ink, and started to take some notes, your eyes widening when you read that it was capable of regenerating itself.

You had no idea how long you spent in the library, your yellow sleeves getting dotted with stray ink, with some ending up on your nose after pushing your hair out of your eyes. You had moved on from the liver, having conquered other important organs such as the big and small intestine, the appendix, and the kidneys.

Your intense focus was suddenly broken by a tapping on your shoulder, which caused you to nearly leap out of your skin.

“Whoa!” Lisa exclaimed, her hands up in surrender. “It’s only me!”

You froze, pink dusting your cheeks in embarrassment. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” you blurted out. “I just… get really caught up in my work…” She gave you a pat on the shoulder. “It’s alright, I know what that’s like. I just wanted to see if you would like to join us for dinner?”

At the mention of food, your stomach let out a loud growl that caused you to flush while Lisa laughed.

“I guess that answers that,” she said, and while you thought you were heading to the kitchen, she instead lead you to an amazing dining hall.

A beautiful, long table was the main center of attention, its legs being dark claws that clung greedily to the plush red carpet underneath. The top was a glistening marble that glowed under the candles that hung above in an extravagant chandelier, topped by a soft red runner. Silver candelabras hung from the walls, large Renaissance paintings of food, feasts, and parties adding just the right amount of color and pop to the black and gold wallpaper.

Once again, a decadent feast adorned the tabletop and your mouth watered at the sight. There was a large rotisserie chicken topped with an array of herbs and surrounded by vegetables like potato, zucchini, onion, carrot, and squash. There were fancy cheeses, golden loaves of bread, expensive wine, and a pot of steaming homemade soup.

Lisa had made herself comfortable beside Vlad, who was sitting across his son.

Adrian already had his plate filled with his pickings, and he gave you a smile from across the room as he took a sip from his goblet, presumably of some of the red wine.

“So, Hippocrates decides to join us.” Vlad teased, biting down on the piece of chicken at the end of his fork.

Adrian burst out laughing, having to grab his napkin to cover his mouth as he entered a coughing fit.

You huffed, annoyed that Adrian found this so funny, arms folded across your chest as you sat down beside him. “I don’t see what’s so amusing,” you repeated, “He just compared me to the father of medicine. I would say that’s quite the compliment.” you stated matter-of-factly, cutting yourself a piece of chicken and pouring yourself some soup.

“She’s well-versed in the history as well,” Vlad said, a smile on his face. “Impressive.”

You grinned, shooting Adrian another glare as he continued to chuckle. The dinner was delicious, and it surprised you how quickly you had grown comfortable around Lisa’s family. It had only been a day, but you could not have felt more at home.

As you helped Adrian collect the dirty dishes, Lisa poured a coffee for herself and her husband, who gave her a kiss on the cheek as she leaned down to fill his cup.

Your eyes glazed over in happiness, filled with a small bundle of peace after witnessing such pure affection. As you turned on your heel to head in the direction of the kitchen, Vlad calling out for you stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh, little one, I almost forgot: meet me in my study before you head back to the library. There is something that I would like to discuss.”

Your voice trembled slightly as you replied, “O...oh, alright.” your arms shaking a bit as dread starting to poison that previous sensation of contentment.  You snuck a glance at Lisa before you exited the room, and although you felt some relief for how calm and normal she looked, the thought of being alone in a small room with one of the most powerful vampires still made you incredibly nervous.

Even though the dishes were being taken care of in an efficient manner, you almost wished that it had taken longer so that you could stall this conversation. You tried to assure yourself that it was not over anything bad, you knew that Lisa would never willingly let you be placed in a dangerous situation. Perhaps… perhaps he just wanted to discuss something?

You nibbled on your thumbnail as you followed after Lisa, who had come over to fetch you and direct you to Vlad’s study.

It’s fine… you think to yourself. You just need to relax. I’m sure it’s nothing.

Lisa stopped in front of a doorway, and you could hear the distinct sound of a fire cracking. She gave you the indication to step inside and you took head of her invitation.

The room was smaller than others you had been in, with a large pointed chair in the middle of an ornate red carpet with intricate golden details. A portrait of Lisa holding a bouquet of white lilies hung on the wall in a beautiful frame, a large bookshelf sitting beside it, neatly filled with hundreds of books. A marble fireplace held the fire that occasionally popped and hissed as embers danced along the iron gate blocking them from singeing the rug.

Above the fireplace was another portrait, this one hung in a more oval frame, and you realized it was of Lisa, Vlad, and Adrian when he was only a baby. Your lips curled into a smile at seeing Adrian, so small and adorable, with tuffs of golden hair on his round head, held in the arms of a beaming Lisa. Vlad looked rather dashing in his suit, and he glowed with a sense of pride, one of his hands resting gently upon his son’s small shoulders.

“I’m glad that you could join me,” Vlad’s voice suddenly called out to you.

You jumped from surprise and whirled around to find him standing beside a tall mirror. You could have sworn that he had not been here a moment earlier…

He unclasped his cloak from around his neck and draped it across the top of the chair before you. His boots tapped softly against the rug, the tall vampire pouring himself a cup of tea once he situated himself.

He took a sip, a content sigh falling from his lips. “Sit,” he stated, and gestured to the small chair in front of him, a small table standing in between the both of you with an additional tea cup and a large tea kettle.

You nervously took your seat, and you fidgeted a bit, fingers twirling around a stray thread from your shirt.

Vlad poured you some tea as well, and you accepted the drink with a quiet thank you.

After several moments of silence of the both of you sipping your tea, the fire crackling behind you, he finally made to speak.

“I wanted to preface this by saying that I am in no way upset with you, if you were worried about that.”

You let out a breath you did not know you had been holding, tension releasing itself from your shoulders as he said this. “Was it that obvious?” you laughed, and he gave you a smile.

“The fact that you even came to join me let’s me know that you trust not only me, but my wife as well. I know how… well, scary, I can seem,” he chuckled. “Even if you are a witch, you are not a fool.”

You gave a sigh of relief, before you let out a quiet laugh at his statement. “I appreciate it.”

Vlad’s smile broke a little, and you saw his eyes cloud over a bit, from what, you could not tell. “You won’t appreciate what I am about to ask you. I ask you to forgive me but…” he was silent, before he leaned forward. “I need you to tell me what happened to your coven.”

Had you not been so comfortably seated in your chair, you might have just collapsed at what Vlad just asked you to do. The world seemed to crumble around you, lip trembling as you swallowed back tears. Instinctively, you shoved your hands into your pockets and pulled out a charm bag, dumping out its contents to grab a necklace that had been created around a piece of amber infused with black obsidian and flecks of rose quartz.

It had been the last birthday gift that you received from your mother, a powerful amulet of protection. You carefully put it around your neck, and allowed the stone to rest near the dip between your breasts, pressing it against your hammering heart.

You were grateful that Vlad had remained quiet during all of this, worried that you would not have been able to handle someone immediately berating you with questions.

“Take your time,” he said softly.

You gave him a nod, and after a couple deep breaths, you opened your eyes. “Thank you… for letting me collect myself. I… needed a minute…” you whispered, voice a little hoarse.

“Not at all,” his tone was calm, soothing. “If ever you need to stop, let me know. I want you to take as long as needed, you’re in no rush.”

“Thank you…” after taking one last calming breath, you started to retell your story, the story of how you lost your entire family.

“It had been at night,” you recall. “My grandmother had mumbled something about a bad feeling, as though she could sense the anger in the atmosphere. It was a dark night… pitch black, and the ocean….she churned, she was so… so violent. I had never seen the ocean look like that before. My mother simply said that a storm was coming, it was nothing more. But, I believed my grandmother.”

You took a sip of tea, lips pursed, before you continued. “She and a couple other witches, older wise women that had been in my grandmother’s original coven, were all saying the same thing, that there was an omen on the horizon, and although quite a few other witches were keen to believe them, we just thought they were saying all this because the ocean was in a fit and we could not feel the moon’s presence on us. If only… if only we had listened.

I had been asleep, before being woken up by screams… so many screams. My mother was frantically running around, I could hear her. She was yelling something at my grandmother, and then she was in my room, pulling me up and ushering me out the front door. I was so confused… I had no idea what was going on. Outside was pure chaos. There were fires as far as my eye could see, the flames licking at my face and the trees in the nearby forest. I could pick up on witches crying out spells, and we’d occasionally see the glow of protective runes being activated.

My mother had her wand in her hand… an ancient thing, made of elm… her hand was clasped tightly around mine, and as we ran, we found other families that had been calling out for any familiar faces. We eventually ended up as a group of maybe six or seven children, and five adult witches. We were nearly at the edge of the forest, where we could hide and be protected, before… before we ran into them…”

You stomach churned with disgust and your eyes welled up with tears as your pictured the men that had blocked your path to freedom. “It was a group of priests in red robes… they had these smiles on their faces…the cruelest expression that you could possibly imagine, as though they were starving cats that had happened upon a pack of terrified rats.

We tried to fight them off, but they were just too many of them… it’s as if they were hydras. Absolute beasts... and I remember…. I remember the things they did to my sisters… the horrible, filthy things they did… the tools that they had…”

Your whole body was trembling with rage, angry tears trailing down your cheeks as your gripped the edge of your seat for dear life. “My mother….” your voice faltered. “My mother…! She… she sacrificed herself! To save me!” you exclaimed, more tears leaking from your eyes.

“She and I had been one of the few who had not been captured, and… and she told me to run, to find the secret paths of the forest nymphs. We had been in good standing with them for centuries, as my coven protected both the sea and the woods that bordered our small community. So… I… I ran, I ran into those woods like she said, but…”

You gritted your teeth, voice coming out in a sob. “She didn’t follow me… a barrier materialized right before my eyes, shimmering like gold. It had been a barrier of protection… the last act of selflessness that my mother performed before being captured. I… I wanted to go back, to try and save her, but…. I ran. I ran… and ran until I could not breathe and collapsed under a tree… dirty, tired, and… so…. helplessly... alone.”

Your vision blurred as tears cascaded down your face, a strangled gasp leaving your throat as your began to cry. “They took everything from me…everything.” you heaved, a disdainful look in your eyes as you sat back in your chair. “Pray tell, what kind of God would let his servants kill innocent women and children?”

Vlad’s dark red eyes shone dangerously in the firelight, hands clasped together as he formed a steeple with his fingers. “I have discovered throughout my hundreds of years on this planet, that mankind is nothing more than a miserable little pile of secrets. Scared little things that would rather destroy and chalk up phenomena they do not understand to the metaphysical.”

He leaned forward and placed a strong grip on your shoulder. “I am terribly sorry for all of the loss that you have suffered at the hands of ignorant, scared little men. Your mother was a brave woman, a strong woman. I’m sure you are very proud of her and the rest of your coven.”

You nodded your head. “Yes… I often find myself filled with such rage that I can barely think… but I lived with the nymphs for some time, and they helped me channel these feelings of resentment into something constructive. It was through their teachings that I became so well-versed in the knowledge of herbology.”

“You are very wise not letting this hate consume you. Too many times have I seen good, honorable men fall under the spell of this deadly obsession,” Vlad said, as he released your shoulder and poured more tea into your cup.

Thanking him, you take a large gulp, only now just realizing how dry your throat had become. “If it would not be too presumptuous of me to ask,” you began. “Do… would it be alright if I headed to the library? I need to clear my head.” you confessed, a strained smile on your visage.

Vlad nodded, his large hand going to ruffle the hair on the top of your head. “You did very well, little one. My only wish is that you do not stay up all night working, for I know how easy it is to lose track of time when immersed in your studies.”

“I will make sure to head to bed at a… reasonable hour,” you said, thanking Vlad for his kindness once more, before you headed back to the library.

Your mind was so abuzz with thought that it was difficult for you to concentrate. It was almost as if you were in a thick fog, uncertain of where to go. As you sat down in front of your desk, you were thankful that Lisa kept a stash of scented candles around to dull the smell of stale old books.

With the flick of your finger you had lit the wick of a candle that had reminded you of fresh rain, pulling out books on the brain and known diseases, topics you knew would be complicated enough to keep you stimulated and wash away the unwanted memories.

The moon hung high in the sky, her bright white rays resting upon your shoulders as you scribbled down notes on a spare bit of parchment. You could sense her as she moved across the sky, an obvious indication of how long you had already been at work.

As she continued her slow trek across the night, you could feel your eyelids grow heavy, but you tried pushing through the exhaustion.

Just let me finish this last sentence…!

Your body won over this battle against your brain, your eyes slipping shut and head resting against your arms as sleep fell upon you.

Something… something was tugging on your hair.

Was it morning already? Had you really slept the entire night at your desk? Well, that’s embarrassing--

“Excuse me?”

That didn’t sound like Lisa.

You groaned, body cracking and muscles aching as you rose from your sleeping position. You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, before you went to massage your sore neck. To your surprise, there was no one around you. So, who had said that--?

“Excuse me!”

You felt another tug, and you whirled around to find… a fairy.

“A fairy?” you exclaimed.

“How rude!” she snapped, hands on her hips. “The name is Aria, thank you very much!”

She could not have been any bigger than a children’s doll, and one could have almost mistaken her for one, with her porcelain white skin and big blue eyes. She had long blond hair that shone like strands of gold in the low candlelight, and she sported a blue dress with a slit down the middle fluttered that around her legs, which were covered by tiny white boots. Sprinkles of fairy dust trailed from out of her wings, beautiful little things that looked almost like a dragonflies.

“Aria, huh?” you said. “What brings you here? I would think that someone such as yourself would rather be outside in the woods than in some dark castle?”

“I live here!” she shouted.

“Really?” you drawled, surprised at her answer.

“Do not speak to me as though I am a child, witch.” she hissed. “My master wanted to come in here to study, and what do I find? You, asleep at a desk!”

“Master?” you repeated.

“She means me.”

Adrian makes himself known from a nearby corner in the room, lounging lazily against an empty desk.

Aria flew over to where he stood, and then pointed at you. “I was making sure that you would have a nice, quiet place to practice, and I find her in here!” she shouted.

“Guess I can venture a guess and say that she’s not a fan of me?” you ask, getting up out of your seat and stretching out your sore muscles.

“She means well,” Adrian said, and walked over to join you where you stood, a tome tucked under his right arm.

Aria plopped herself onto his shoulder, her tiny hands grasping at his long locks of hair, humming quietly as she busied herself by braiding several strands.

“She certainly has an attitude,” you snap, and give her a smirk as she sticks her tongue out at you. “What’s this I hear about you coming in here to “practice”? You do know that this is the library dedicated to medical science?”

“Of course. I came up here to practice my healing magic.” Adrian responded, and opened the book he had with him. It was a magical tome, one that was written specifically about healing spells.

Your eyes widened at the sight and you made to grab it to look through it yourself, but Adrian quickly snatched it away before you could do so.

“Don’t be childish,” you grumbled. “I just want to flip through it. I will give it right back. If anyone knows a thing about healing spells, it’s me.”

“You’re not the only one who knows magic in this castle.” he challenged.

“Oh really?” you snapped back. “Well, if you’re so confident, why don’t you show me some of this magic?”

You noticed that his eyes widened slightly at the test, but he gave you a confident stare as he put down his book and ordered Aria to take a seat on your shoulder-- much to her dismay.

“So, what have you got for us?” you questioned.

“I’ve recently mastered the skill of transmutation.”

A whistle rang out from your lips. “Now that is some impressive magic. Only witches vying for the title of supreme have been able to pull that off.”

Adrian smirked. “Well then, all the more impressive that I can do this.” he said, and closed his eyes.

For a moment, he stood there, completely still, before he flitted out of view, as though you were trying to focus your vision. In a second, he reappeared on the opposite side of the room, a triumphant grin on his face as Aria started cheering and doing loops in the air.

“See?” he cried, clearly proud of himself. “What did I tell you?”

He disappeared again, only to reappear in front of you. “Seems as though I am magically gifted as well.” He vanished before you could say anything, but you knew that this cockiness would do nothing but bite him in the ass.

Karma came much quicker than you expected, for the third time he tried to transmutate, he ran straight into one of the bookshelves, causing a pile to tumble on top of him as he collapsed onto the ground.

Try as hard as you might, but you could not suppress the laughter that bounded out of you after seeing this. Your voice rang throughout the library, arms clutching at your sides as you absolutely lost it.

You could hear Aria yelling how rude you were before she raced off to try and help Adrian, but you couldn’t care less. A tear managed to slide down your cheek, and you wiped it off, finding it ironic that you were crying out of happiness, when a mere few hours ago, it had been tears of utter sadness.

Aria was trying her best to get the books off of him, but they were much too heavy for her. She nearly dropped one onto his foot, before you caught it within your grasp.

“Let me help you with that,” you said, offering Adrian your hand.

He looked up at you and accepted your assistance, his chilled skin causing goosebumps to run across your arm.

You hoisted him back up on his feet, a slight flush on your cheeks when you realized how close the both of you were. You immediately relinquished your grip and took several steps back, laughing nervously.

“Transmutation, huh? I mean, even I can’t do that! So, that was pretty impressive! Well, before… you know…” you trailed off awkwardly, shying under his intense gaze.

He suddenly burst into a fit of laughter, the sound causing your heart to skip a beat and butterflies to flutter in your stomach. It was strange, seeing this stoic, composed man act so… so human.

“I’m glad that you appreciated the show,” he said, running his fingers through his hair to settle himself down. “Even if it ended in utter disaster.”

“That’s alright,” you replied. “It took me quite a while to master my pyrokinesis. Whenever I would practice, I usually ended up setting something on fire. Oh, there was this one time, I accidentally lit my mother’s ceremonial robes on fire,” you cringed at the memory, but gave a smile small as Adrian laughed. “It just takes practice.”

“Practice…” he hummed. “As much as Aria can try and argue against this, my original intentions for coming up here were to ask if you could help me in the practice of magic.”

“What?!” Aria shrieked. “Master Alucard, surely there is no need for you to--” she was silenced by Adrian putting a finger against her mouth, the fairy glaring at him before she stomped her foot and landed on his head in a huff.

“Surely you must have gotten some practice at your mother’s clinic,” you said, as you recalled Vlad and Lisa’s conversation on Adrian once working there.

He grimaced at the mention. “Yes… well, I did want to earn some experience helping her there, but after a particularly nasty incident, mother thought it best if I remain at home in pursuit of my studies.”

“Would you mind telling me what happened?”

“It’s not an embarrassing memory,” he said. “It’s merely that… well, I had been helping mother for two weeks or so, and things had been going fine. It was not until this woman walked in, that things started to take a sour turn.”

Your eyebrows raise in piqued interest. “Woman?”

“She came in with an infected leg, a nasty thing, one look at it would tell you as much. I asked her what had happened, and she told me that she had received a cut while working one day, and instead of cleaning and wrapping the wound… she had tried cutting out the small infected tissue, which of course, only made it worse.”

“What?” you gasp, completely boggled.

“Exactly!” Adrian exclaimed. “I was completely dumbfounded after she told me this, and I asked her why she would do such a thing. She said that’s what her neighbors had told her to do, and that she had merely come to me for some sort of tonic to dull the pain until it healed.”

“At that point, it would have made the most sense to cut it off.” you commented.

“I was thinking the same thing, but she just kept insisting that it was not serious and it was going to go away on its own--!” he let out a frustrated growl as he told the story. “One thing led to another and, well, we got into a rather heated argument. I was this close to losing it before mother stepped in and took care of the situation.”

You looked up at Adrian, a small smirk on your face. “When you say “heated argument”, does that mean you said something to her? I don’t think Lisa would essentially kick you out for debating with a belligerent patient.”

Adrian went quiet, his gaze darting away from you as he cheeks flushed a very faint pink. “I… may or may not have called her an “insolent fool”, one who’s lucky she’s alive believing that kind of codswallop.”

You nodded, as giggles threatened to erupt from your mouth. “That’ll do it.”

Adrian looked back down at you, and that was game over, the two of you bursting into a fit of raucous laughter.

“Oh, please don’t tell me that those are the kinds of people I’ll be dealing with,” you said, as the both of you began the walk to your bedrooms.

“Thankfully those are the outliers. Most of the villagers that come in are very nice,” he said. “They were very grateful that my mother was there, for every other person they had come across claiming to be a physician was nothing more than a crazy old woman who promised that drinking a brew of leaves and acorns would cure their rhumatismes.”

“Lisa is such a wonderful and smart woman… I’m so grateful that she’s accepted me into your home.” you said, and gave him a bright smile. “I’ve only been here a day, but I feel so at home here… as though I’ve finally found my place.”

He returned your smile, and stopped as you find yourselves in front of your bedroom door. “You never answered my question.”

Your eyes flitted up to look at him, and they twinkled with mischief as you rocked back and forth on the soles of your feet. “You really want to learn more about magic?”

He nodded. “My father is a powerful sorcerer, and I think your teaching, combined with his advice, will be able to help me perform at my full potential.”

“Alright,” you replied, without missing a beat. “I will help you, but! You better make sure to dial that arrogance down a couple levels when we’re together. If you’re not willing to listen, you will learn nothing.”

“Understood,” he said and took a hold of your hand, lifting it to his lips so he could place a kiss along your knuckles. “Rest well, then. I will see you in the morning.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, hand hanging limply at your side as he disappeared down the dark hallway with Aria trailing silently behind him. You felt light on your feet as you danced over to your bed, feeling excited at the prospect of teaching the son of darkness all of your magical secrets.

Yeah, you thought. I’m definitely home.

author’s note: hehehehe SURPRISE!!! >:3 i got TWO chapters written today!! i hit such a good stride, that i thought: why not write two chapters? so that's what i did!! you get some more backstory in this one, and some cute moments with adrian. afterall, this IS an adrian/reader fic. oh! and shoutout to my friend morgan!! she's the one who came up with aria's name, who's based off of the fairy familiar in symphony of the night!! give her a follow @princessmorgan. she's super talented!! i hope you enjoyed this chapter lovelies!! i promise the next update won't come in 4 months ;w;

see you later!!

[hunterartemis]

The Assistant: Chapter 14 (finale): Ainsi Tu Seras

Words: 9952 (my longest)

No summary for this one. Because of Spoilers!! (Doctor Who fans will get it)

Chapter Theme: (not one but 2): Together or Not at All, by Murray Gold: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Gam8ogWBLk

(the picture: Amanda Abbington as Mary Morstan in Sherlock. I do imagine her as Audrey Page, and she has all the qualities of her)

“Mum...” Maxine whimpered in the tears of joy, “is that you?”

Audrey didn’t reply her right away. She kept standing in front of her, still and serene. Her wide blue eyes all upon her daughter, her wand in her right hand and the tip on the left palm, like a small hunter crop; there was no joy of meeting her long lost daughter, neither the look of victory after killing of her daughter’s enemy. There was a coldness, the same coldness Newt used to see on Maxine’s face—as if what she has done was done out of a sense of duty, or obligation as if there was no passion behind it. Her crow’s feet moved a little as she smiled obligatorily.

“Hello, Maxine... it’s nice to finally see you.” Her eyes quickly veered towards the Paterfamilias of the Valois, Hrothgar, who looked like there was a ghost standing in front of him.

“I really like that look on your face, it’s just like I imagined” Audrey now looked at Maxine, “you know, I always knew you will turn out like me the moment you were born” she came closer to Maxine and stroked her face with her thumb, “in beauty, in intellect... and you know, mother’s instincts are never wrong—thank you for keeping me close for all those years.”

A stray tear that gathered in Maxine’s eye stooped to fall on her pearly cheeks, her eyes looked bewildered to an extent, almost maddening. Those words seemed to have an estranged effect on her, she felt that it was not the same mother, she knew who wrote all those letters, all those years ago “What are you talking about?” she exclaimed with a desperate whisper, “you’re my mother, the only relation that mattered to me in the world. All those years—after all those torturously lonely days filled with humiliation...” her voice strengthened with deep gratitude, “only you were the one who understood me... there is no word in the world with which I could say how much I love you.”

Everyone in the room stood in their places like marble sculptures to witness the events unfolding. Maxine wondered why anyone in the room hadn’t tried anything to stop that woman who killed the son-in-law of the French diplomat; how could they—it was a strange day in December, a strange gathering of wizards under roof of the Catholic church at the heart of Paris, a strange day that unfolded perhaps the most scandalous truths about one of the most reputed family in all of Europe. It is the nature of all man—noble, royal or common—to see an old power fall and shatter into pieces. There was a forbidden joy in that, like seeing a nun or a queen naked. There was an odd rush in that which stopped all senses to respond, keeping the eyes and ears extraordinarily acute for witnessing and for the recording that will surely be embedded into every living memory. And there was a common truth: a noble stays mute when noble is disrobed.

“So tell me, mum...” Maxine went a little closer to her mother, “so tell me you knew everything and killed Anatole to save me from him... tell me. Tell me that, or they will put you into Azkaban” her voice shook when she saw no change in Audrey’s face. Her distant vacant eyes were unreadable and suddenly smirk graced her thin lips.

“Don’t worry dear, that’s the least of my worries.” Audrey waved her words quite serenely and turned away towards the wedding guests, and now Maxine could really understand what was happening and why the ministers stood still. They had a mist about them, even the vapour of their breath froze still like they were in a photograph. Maxine turned to Newt and there he was: his sea-green eyes fixated into a glassy image of shock, looking up like some subject in a divine painting, just like Maxine saw him in Notre Dame.  She looked at Audrey with bafflement.

“Why is that?”

“Perpetuity spell darling...” Audrey spoke coolly, “everyone except you and I is locked in their previous time-stream. A high-level of magic, not even Dumbledore shall dare to try it.” She laughed on her own with a satisfactory vanity, “but then again not everyone is Dumbledore and delusional like him. Working as an Unspeakable has its perks.” She turned towards Maxine and found her daughter looking at her with disbelief.

“Oh c’ mon now, don’t pretend you aren’t used to all—breaking rules!” Audrey shook her hand in a casual manner, adding a bit of smile, a peculiar kind. A smile only smiled by an adult in front of a child, a smile to be faked to that child and repeated with ‘everything is going to be fine’. “I know how they raised you, I know how they pushed you aside and locked you up like the Dragon in the Tower. Oh, I know... I knew all the time when I had you. Because it was the same with me. Darling, muggles , and wizards are not very different—they detest anything that is out of the norm. I used to be locked up too... and one day, I had it enough, and next thing I remembered—I was standing beside my dead muggle parents.”

“So what do you want to say? I am like you?” Maxine threw the question with a challenge, “please... I am not an idiot. Yes, my step-family had been horrible to me, every day is a cold war. My so-called family refused to come to my failed wedding--” Maxine added sardonically after looking at Anatole’s dead-cold body with a mild disregard, “but it doesn’t mean I am like you. I am not going to kill my father just because he is a little bit too harsh on me—he is a diplomat and he being alive saved me a lot of shit--” Maxine pointed upwards, at the way where she displayed the memory tapestry, “in case if you missed—and he was actually there for me, now I have realised when you loitered around the shadows...” Maxine took a deep breath as if to gain some energy for something she was about to do “WHERE WERE YOU ALL THOSE YEARS I NEEDED YOU AT MY SIDE? WHERE. THE. HELL. HAVE. YOU. BEEN. WHEN EVERYTHING AROUND ME WERE FALLING INTO PIECES”

Audrey couldn’t speak for several moments, then when she gained her voice, her wide blue-eyed lowered, in guilt or in possible shame, “oh darling... if you only knew I had been through--”

“I understand you’ve been through a lot, but you are my freaking mother, and I need an explanation. My model family won’t tell me a thing, so I suggest you talk now.” Maxine venomously snapped as her rage spilled into her previous tears.

Audrey veered her eyes towards the stained glass window. Her face glowed in pink, blue and purple, softening her wrinkles and the tears that she was about to spill. She didn’t look at Maxine straightaway but at Hrothgar. Her wide blue eyes streamed with tears that seemed to be held back behind the dam of years of pain and resentment, “he was everything to me, the perfect person—so kind, so...compassionate. I alone and sad when I was sent to the French Ministry and he saw right through me. The amazing insight he had, he knew where and how to pluck a person to dismantle him which he rarely did—I knew I couldn’t be with him, he was a married man with a son, but he never abandoned me. He never hid anything from me, sometimes even ignored the calls from his wife and family because they NEVER CAME CLOSE TO UNDERSTAND WHAT HE WAS--” Audrey’s face reddened with anger, “I would have endured everything... being his secret, his mistress, but—he decided to take from me when I was promised that I would be married to him—he told me he was going to separate from Marguerite, but that coward...” Audrey’s emotions hardened into contempt, “backed out in the last moment... I stood here; right where you stood as English bride, alone on French soil, a heart full of love, and all I ever received was an arrest warrant and a walk of shame from Chateaux d’If, stripped off my love, my life, and my daughter...THAT MAN, THE LOVE OF MY LIFE... DID THAT TO ME” Audrey’s eyes were reddened with the ghosts of her past. But she did nothing, but to smile a crooked smile, like she had everything right all of a sudden, “so tell me I am wrong, an abysmal mother, a dutiless parent—but think of that wretched woman who was stripped bare, to her last dignity. I waited all those years, selected every possible scenario to arrange the situations to pave myself today in this abysmal church in Paris”

Maxine listened to her full story. Drops of tears rolled off Maxine’s cheeks as millions of possibilities seemed to fire in her brain: the sudden letters of Anatole a year ago, him finding his way back to her, the blue sealed letter in Romania, this perfect situation that compelled Hrothgar to marry her off with him—nothing was committed on Anatole’s whim. He was a megalomaniac, a sexual predator but he was never this grand. Moreover the codification of the Prison transcript, locked away safely but obscurely under the very nose of the British ministry, everything made sense: an Unspeakable operating right under the nose of everyone, incognito and completely silent, pushing people like pawns—the perfect candidate. And who else, who else would know in such details that if Hrothgar commanded his daughter to do something, she will be compelled to do so? The Mark happened after Anatole was convicted.

“You did all this... all of this... just to get to papa?” despair vaporised from Maxine’s lungs, “you used your own child... to get to the Father? What KIND OF MOTHER ARE YOU?”

“You make a mistake darling...” Audrey spoke in a cold and distant tone, “I was never your mother... I had no right over you.” Maxine felt it was like she was trying to gag whatever that was pressing to come out. If she knew her lesser, she would have suggested that it was bitter regret, but as she knew her better, she knew it wasn’t anything like that, “all because of a man that I love. But he forgot one thing, to kill me. There is a proverb in France; there is none deadlier than a woman wronged.”

The next scene happened too quickly to register into Maxine’s mind. Audrey rushed towards the statued figure of Hrothgar and took his face to embrace with her lips. Like a miracle, Hrothgar’s body sprung into the old life, tightly wrapped in Audrey’s embrace suddenly became wide-eyed and whimpered. It was the moment when Audrey stepped away from Hrothgar and her cornflower blue suit smeared with fresh blood. Maxine looked at her wide eyes and saw victory as well as unspeakable grief. The crowd behind her sprung into their instinctive panic, alertness and bustle, and before a flash of green light hit her behind, she managed to speak to Maxine for one last time.

“Forgive me, ma chere... and goodbye”

The surge of life that the nullification of the Perpetuity Spell brought was felt first as severe contracting pain in Newt’s chest; it was the first thing that he felt—a rib crushing pain, trying to squeeze the air out of his lungs. Unable to contain the feel, when he looked at Maxine’s way, clutching his heart, he saw a sweep of glittering white before his eyes. As his body registered to his current circumstances, he realised that Maxine lunged forward over the body of her dying mother. But that was not what it surprised him; even Maxine knew that Audrey was no more when the Green Light hit her—it was the action of his brother.

Theseus pushed three people out of the way, almost toppling Tina over, and Newt saw how he secured Maxine in his arms before she fell on the still body of her mother. Even though Newt was standing at the back, with his legs leaden on the floor, stupefied, he could clearly see Theseus’ right arm secured under her diaphragm and left on her décolletage. His shoulders were vibrating not prominent enough for other people to see but Newt knew that, and it was almost for her. Like a process of osmosis, Theseus’ whole body was absorbing her physical grief, and there will be no words in the world to describe the animal howls of violent sobbing of Maxine’s Valois. She was falling apart, piece by piece, and Theseus with all his being was keeping it together.

Although he felt somewhat relieved he felt very agitated towards the scene, because it was not what it was supposed to be. It was a cruel act, even for Theseus to do things to Maxine—she was deeply hurt, and he knew how it felt. Because he felt it every time when Leta walked alongside Theseus; Newt knew Maxine was no different than him in this matter, so why now—why this publish display? However as he attempted to step forward, breaking from his stupor, he felt Tina’s hand firmly grasping him.

“Let him...” Tina said looking towards Theseus and coming a bit closer to Newt. Her liquid black eyes glistened with slight moisture that had a bit of sadness. A surge of guilt washed over Newt’s entire being as Tina touched Newt’s lip with her quivering thumb and it reddened with the Mark of Maxine’s lipstick, “he has suffered long enough for that wretched woman...”

“What do you mean?” Newt looked puzzled, and Tina suddenly turned his head towards Theseus, “does your brother look like he is faking it? He had been love with her all along...” she filled the silence and inquisition of Newt with a strained smile, “a lot can happen during a dance”

“HROTHGAR...” another whimper of cry ensued from the left side of the altar. Anyone who wasn’t under that influence of the perpetuity spell did not know what happened to Maxine’s father. As they heard an old woman crying mentioning that name, Newt and Tina went to that place and saw a gleaming opal the dagger pierced the chest of the old French Diplomat and the congealed blood weaved a deep red velvet shroud on his black brocade suit worn for the occasion. He lied alongside Anatole, like sinners of the same crime, but his wide shocked eyes reflected the mistake of his past and regret. Newt knelt beside his body and gently closed his wide eyes. He turned towards Anatole and looked at his with a sense of conflict—there he lied in his final rest like a mangled insect, put into an arbitrary death, but again he remembered where he had been a few hours ago—Death remembers all and in Death, all people are the same.

Newt cradled Anatole’s head straight and closed his eyes.

...

It is strange how quickly things can change over a few hours. A few hours ago Newt, Theseus, and Tina assumed that they were going to be buried alive, a few hours ago Maxine walked the doors of Saint Chappell and the choir sang for her conjugation with Anatole Malfoy, a few hours ago even in the worst of nightmares, Hrothgar didn’t think that it would be the last time he will see the love of his life, a few hours ago not even Maxine would have thought that within half an hour she would lose everything, a few hours ago not even Newt would think he would recalibrate his entire life based on the appearance of his assistant who had been working for only a month.

Three coffins and two widows came out of Saint Chappell at that night. Marguerite and Maxine, walking side by side as their husbands made the march. The flashing of reporter’s camera permeated even through their long black face veil. Newt, Tina, and Theseus were walking at the very back of the crowd, and a conspicuous feeling was bothering Newt for some time. As Audrey’s casket was walked he felt something that he would not express to anyone. He felt one of dead was being walked with glory, one for treason and one as the stain on a noble. As for the living, one bereaved widow walked with other trapped in perpetual shame. He was wondering what would happen to Maxine now; she may have no chance of surviving this: she lost her birth mother, someone whom Maxine felt had the only living relative who loved her; and her father, for whom she stood with straightened back despite her birth. What will happen to her now—she was not the easiest of the woman to get along with, and Merlin knew not every one of her ministries was a fan of her. After her Confession, they will only need a tiny excuse to do anything with her. And this very thought made his skin crawl with disgust and fear.

“I know what you’re thinking...” Theseus said in a low raspy tone, dampened with tears he had been crying with Maxine, “as soon as old Valois is buried for good, the Embassies will come for her. Given the fact that her family didn’t even attend her wedding--,” he looked at the four newly arrived figures, two women and two men, dressed in black and busied with a spectacle of tears, “I don’t think she stands much chance. If she had her job by now, there could have been a hope for protecting her, but damn that stubborn woman. She had to leave just to prove a point that she can--”

“She isn’t half as egotistic as you think ‘Seus. She left because she was protecting you.” Newt answered grimly. He knew this was the time to come clean and there was no moment to lose.

“What do you mean she was protecting me? oh—so she is so egotistic now that she thinks that I am so vulnerable that I need protection from the person who is this close of being subjugated herself.” Theseus said with a significant amount of heat, and Newt confronted him like he never did anyone before.

“Perhaps that is why she chose to leave you, she knew it was better to leave quietly than to explain it to you what dangers you were in. She feared Anatole, all this time... she showed that in front of half the European ministry, and when he started writing she feared that her attachment to you might get yourself killed. So she left you Theseus, and watched you day after day getting closer and closer to Leta when she was breaking her heart--”

“What? Breaking her heart...?” Theseus tried to laugh it off as if Newt was spewing his ‘usual’ nonsense, and quiet with an aggravated motion pointed towards the Funeral march “do you think even for a second that Maxine Valois lets herself do that. She is no subject of affection, she never was... she was always that smart, arrogant and near-perfect woman who had every man in existence swooned for her. I saw you waltzing with her in the Yule party, and I saw nothing but a cold calculated game being played--”

“Is that a declaration to me or a consolation to yourself?” Newt abruptly interrupted the statement of his brother. The Funeral March has advanced a considerable length and the lights from the camera and the mourning candle faded into a dark and obscure Churchyard, where only a grim and dull obligatory entrance light lit the snow-laden path to bare-minimum visibility. Theseus’ lean face looked shadowy and his confusion created crooked lines of darkness on his well-natured features. He licked his lips once and avoided looking towards Newt. After a long silence, Newt opened his mouth.

“I was heartbroken when I saw Leta move on, and of all with you.” Newt said quietly, “but it was okay because she needed you more than me. She needed a leaning board, a pillar, but it fills me with anger to see how you are running away from your feelings.” Newt paused to see Theseus’ puzzlement “you see Tina told me everything about that night—and all those times—poor dear had been suffering that you never liked her back—all that time I thought you’ve been leading her, and she thought it was one-sided you bastard!” Newt gave a doleful smile.

Theseus looked at Newt with disbelief. He walked a little closer to Newt, scooting his vision under his brother’s unkempt bangs to look at him into the eye, and the twitch and pout told Theseus that Newt was genuinely annoyed with him. He felt a little surge of happiness because Newt rarely speaks to him or to anyone of that matter and if he decides to do so, it must be damn near important. He lowered his head for a moment and covered his face, as if he was soaking his face into fragrant cool water after a long tiring day, and suddenly from his complete stillness he shook himself forcefully back into life. When he straightened his face he looked like he was about to faint, but his pale face coloured with a bit of a smile; a smile smiled by a patient after long-suffering of illness. He started to pace back and forth, and Newt knew what was coming.

“Theseus, I don’t think it would be a good time—Theseus, listen she is in--”

Crack

“—mourning...” Newt plopped on the snowy steps of the church after Theseus recklessly disapparated.

It was nearly 10 o’clock in the New Years Eve. The entire Paris lit up to welcome the year of 1928, under the streets, near every secret door, illegal alcohols shoot up into fountains in the mood of celebration. Flappers dressed in gold, silver, and pearls lost their inhibitions for the sake of a livelier party and accompanying their eligible bachelors, married millionaires or extra-marital lovers trying to get laid after a long spell of dry marriage. The taste of cocktails and spiked lemonades and Harvey wall bangers livened with the sound of jazz, and at the much-neglected corner of Paris, near the Valois vault at Pere Lachaise, a woman in black stood still. When Theseus apparated there and saw Maxine standing completely still at the very centre of the garden of tombs. Her black silhouette stiff and her head lightly bowed as the long mourning veil covered up to her stomach. She was standing exactly under the Fleur De Lis crest, so ornate and detailed with Baroque carve work that it could still be seen under the faint faraway light of the city that created a dark silvery glow around the snowy graveyard. The first slosh of his feet gave away his existence to Maxine. She turned her veiled figure towards him.

“Where is everyone?” Theseus’ throat suddenly seemed very dry. His voice did little to hide that anxiety.

“Gone... ” Maxine replied shortly, and her head was turned towards the mausoleum. Theseus approached her gently and as carefully as possible. His feet weren’t giving in to his head and he fought all the impulses to bombard Maxine with all the questions Newt evoked in his mind.

“I’m so sorry about what happened--”

“She had to do it on my wedding day... it was my damn wedding day--” Maxine abruptly said with a distinct amount of anger. The statement threw Theseus into such off-hand position that he almost asked her “sorry what are you saying?”

“I mean... who does that to someone at their wedding day? Although I admit that I hated my groom and always wanted to kill him but not like this...” Maxine huffed and started to laugh hysterically. The sound of her coarse and husky laugh that sent sparks of fire into every man’s veins and chills into the enemy’s spine made Theseus skin crawl. He stood there, holding his breath, allowing her to shed her tears what she had been trying to mask under her laugh. Hell of a strong woman, she never allowed anyone to see her weak side—she never surrendered to an emotional outburst, and even when she was jealous and angry she tried to put those emotions on whoever stood on the opposite side. She was mean, cruel and egotistical and there was no excuse for her antics or her blatant disregard of authority or her mocking obedience to them. She smiled when she was sad, and that laughter was just not radar of how sad she was—it was that sort of laughter reserved for those select few who have now nothing to live for.

“I must have set the record for the shortest span of marriage. I must have been the only one in the history of the world who walked in white and walked out in black. I mean how mad is that...and the worst part is, I have nothing to do with this--”

“—Maxine you have to--”

“Let it go?” Maxine approached towards Theseus with such ferocity that Theseus, in the process of backing up, tripped on a stray snow-laden twig and fell on the ground. A stray flashing car passed near the cemetery and a little light fell on Maxine’s black veil and through its obscure layer, her grief-ridden face. Theseus looked at her, the flash on her face with awestruck amazement. It inspired the fear of madness in him; he couldn’t recognize her at all. That black-veiled figure was standing in front of him, hunching towards him with the hem of the veil slightly brushing on his chest.

“Maxine... I didn’t mean that—I have no words to comfort you. I have come--” Theseus slowly reached for the hem of Maxine’s veil while getting up, “I’ve just come to say...I have just come to say--” Theseus’ hands shook as he attempted to lift up the veil, but Maxine’s cold hands stopped him in midway

“Newt sent you now, did he?” Maxine said in a hushed but severe tone. A chill wind flew through the gravestones, moaning in the chill, “Of course he did... of course he did.” The last bit shook a little, or it distinctly did to Theseus’ ears. He didn’t speak another word because he felt that there was something on Maxine’s heart that was in dire need to get out. The distant rushing cars flashed stray lights on her black silhouette and she appeared and disappeared like a ghost or a bad dream, condemned to repeat oneself.

“Have you heard about Oedipus, Theseus?”

“No... I am not sure I have.”

“I have buried three of the closest people in my life today—” Maxine mused, “And all I could think of, all the time was Oedipus—why is that?” Maxine asked rhetorically and with an unnatural enthusiasm, “I should have been crying like a madman, but all I could think of Oedipus. And suddenly, as you appeared here... I understood everything.”

“What did you understand?” Theseus tried his best not to break down into tears; this state of Maxine made him so helpless that he wanted to hold Maxine tight into his arms again and tell her that everything would be fine.

“—Think about it, it makes so much sense--He was a king’s son who was abandoned because of a prophecy; a prophecy that said he would kill his father and fuck his mother to get the throne.” Maxine mused again with a peculiar tone, “his parents thought that now Oedipus is safe because he will never come back. But he did—only he didn’t know who were his birth parents—and he did kill his father and married his mother to sit on the throne—and when he did know what he had done he--”

“Stop Maxine... why are you saying stuff like this--” Theseus rushed towards Maxine and hastily lifted off her mourning veil. His hands firmly grabbing Maxine’s shoulder and his eyes adjusted themselves in the dark to know exactly where Maxine’s despair-laden eyes were. They almost obscured under the bloody eyelids, and like endless dark tunnels, they seemed vacuumed and empty.

“Why can’t I? Why don’t I? My father did this me—all of these. He practically stabbed himself—if you think about it—I mean, if your actions lead you to death, it’s your fault.“ Maxine paused a little, as if she was recalling something, something more horrific “you know what she said? She said that I was exactly like her—Theseus, what if I end up like her?” the last bit came out like a hysteric cry for help, “what if end up killing Newt?”

“Maxine...” Theseus spoke patiently, “there is nothing—it is nothing about you killing Newt, why would you do that? I saw you--” Theseus halted abruptly as his voice shook a little, “I saw you—why would you do that to him--don’t you—love him...?”

“I do love him Theseus” Maxine screamed with sheer helplessness, “But it means nothing. I know...I know no matter how much I love him, he can never love me—he already has Tina. Theseus, if I do that I won’t be able to forgive myself...I won’t be able to—forgive myself.”  

Theseus could hear Maxine’s whimpers echoing through the labyrinth of tombstones like a haunted soul.

...

He walked on the streets of Paris alone, loitering like a man with no home to return. The Eiffel tower could be seen lit up for the New Years Eve from the side of the city he walked. There were lights all around him, but it felt like harsh burns on his skin as if he walked naked under a midday desert sun. A couple of drunk people in festive mood bumped right into him, but Theseus’ mind was still in the heart of the Pere Lachaise where Maxine stood in despair a few hours ago—too preoccupied to react to their angry French swears. He needed a drink, a strong one, but there was an alcohol ban all over the muggle world—a nice bottle of firewhiskey to burn the sorrow away. He could afford to be a drunk right now, he needed to be drunk. But then again it was not for him, it was for her.

He had a completely different notion about her when she worked with him. People don’t handle women like her very well—too arrogant, too independent, too much of a lip and oh that temper! So much temper—someday she would be angry enough to burn the building down, and someday she would have been so mischievous that someone could lose a life with her pranks, someone always did. People couldn’t handle her, but that never stopped the office gossip or lecherous fantasies about her around the male colleagues. Lucian Carr almost got killed once just to retort

“Why, are you in love with her or something?”

No one could ever know. It would have been a huge dent in the reputation—avoid her at all cost, but why? She never advanced him or anything—she was cordial and professional and her display of ‘emotions’ came out as a characteristic trait, it was never to connect with anyone. She was the best of his employees, then why he always tried to restrain himself? Because deep down, he knew his thoughts about her were no different than other men in the office. She intimidated the hell out of him, and he fucking loved it. He distanced himself out of his freaking principles. Thankfully Leta was in the way—a beautiful distraction and his salvation from his own censored thoughts.

And then she had an outburst and left the job.

He hated the nerve of her, his ego had he convinced that she left to torment him. His thoughts about her then turned like a coward misogynist, and he would have had enough comfort with that until his drunken tumble upon her doorsteps—he wanted her! He wanted her so bad, and thought she might take—but she didn’t, she took care of him and send him away from any harm. Unpredictable little wench! She wasn’t supposed to be the caring type, women like her aren’t, and he was almost confirmed by his hypothesis of her in the Yule party but what would he do with the information he had today? The woman whom he just met today wasn’t the woman he knew before—she was a completely different creature—tender, vulnerable and so very human.

And that scared the hell out of him.

“Veux venir avec moi, monsieur?” suddenly a silky female voice called Theseus from the footpath, a gentle arm snaked on his arm as well, and that is when Theseus looked at the whore’s face. And by Merlin’s blessed head he was washed all over with shame. Maxine was right all along, he had a hero complex—he wanted his women vulnerable, so that he could save them, and now when she is in grief, his heart, and his brain opened at the same time and fought over the age-old impulse—to be or not to be. He wondered if it was his complex that spoke in him tonight, or was it his heart.

He was being led into a hotel, he could tell. The door opened and the whore’s mouth slobbered all over his neck, and despite everything he felt nothing at all—the passive eyes didn’t even found the whore stepping outside her underwear and flaunting her well-defined breasts.

“This is embarrassing…” the woman said in English, “when a woman is willingly taking her clothes off at least be nice and look at the view--” she said eloquently, and with it managed to get Theseus’ attention. As soon as he looked at her, the look in her eyes changed completely.

“What’s that eh? Can’t forget her?” she sat down on a nearby stool, her breasts drooping with her posture. Theseus smiled audibly, “how did you know?”

“Honey, I’ve been fucking gentlemen like you since I was 15. A few titties and they all stand upright like its Bastille Day—married or divorced?”

“Neither… fiancée died after a month of engagement--”

The whore stayed quiet for a while and then a cracked a smile, “but the one you’ve been hung on about is very alive one isn’t it--” she paused to look at Theseus’ inquisitive expression, “otherwise you’d let me blow the skin out of your dick and fuck the hell out of you to get it out of the system. And something else tells me, she doesn’t know about your feelings--”

“No… she does—I mean, in a way. She used to like me, I was too proud to see it—now I am not sure… by the way, why am I telling you all these?”

“Honey, we just don’t fuck people. People come to us when they have nothing else—we allow them to do whatever they want and listen to their shit—a city without prostitutes is like a house without a toilet” she smiled for the first time, a genuine humane smile which put Theseus’ heart in ease. He lowered his head out of courtesy as the whore dressed. A brief click of lock suggested that she had already opened the door.

“—oh yes, one more word—” the woman said, holding the door partially open behind her, “be honest with her and yourself about what you feel. If she comes around then fine, if not at least you’ll sleep better for the rest of your life.”

…

A loud thudding and a heavy hit on the back woke Theseus up. He must have rolled on the floor from the bed and directly on the soggy cold carpet of the hotel which he lodged at last time. He has been in the same clothes for nearly a week, his corded pajama which he wore before he was arrested—suddenly it occurred to him now. He felt really stupid and nearly tripped on the suspended bedsheet that dragged along with him before he could answer the door. A very annoyed waiter was waiting for him at the door.

“Vous Monsieur Anglais avec une putain?” the description of him by the waiter didn’t sit well with Theseus—‘the Englishman with a whore’, however being really confused, half-asleep and really demented, Theseus replied, “oui, c’est lui est moi.”

“j’ai votre paquet…” he thrust the thick parcel in his hand and left instantly.

The packet was a little larger than a magazine and thinner than a standard book. When it was opened, came out of the Newspaper. Theseus was surprised enough already as his sleepy brain tried to awaken, he reached for his pocket to take out the wand. He pointed it at the freshly unfolded Newspaper to translate it because he wasn’t clear in his mood to read French—he didn’t think until the very first words of the headlines appeared before him. His very hair stood up in attention at the back of his head. As he shook the paper in an attempt to straighten it another smaller paper fell out from it. It was a simple open note and in perfect English it said,

Save it while you can.

Theseus didn’t stand in the hotel room for a moment. He threw the newspaper aside and run out of his room like a lunatic screaming at the gone waiter, trying to figure the whereabouts of the person who delivered that parcel. In the meanwhile The Warlock Times lay abject on the soggy hotel carpet with its words slowly returning to French.

THE DUCHESS DISGRACED

Maxine Malfoy nee Valois, formerly Duchess of Croy had freshly came out of a short wedding and a triple funeral of her late husband Anatole Malfoy, her father Monsignor Hrothgar Valois and an unknown woman of a close relationship from the revered Saint Chappell last night. As shocking as this scandal gets she had accused her late husband Anatole Malfoy, the British Junior Undersecretary as a Grindlewald supporter and a serial rapist who apparently acquired the Ministry Office with considerable French influence, by fraud. The late Junior Undersecretary, as Madame Malfoy claims had a close past relationship with her to quite an exploitative range, and she, as sources report, killed him spouse right after the vows based upon such notions. Madame Malfoy is accused by the British Minister himself and today she will be held for trial at 12 pm by the French High Council of Warlock. The mysterious death of her father, the Late Diplomat Monsignor Hrothgar Valois will be looked into shortly…  

Theseus couldn’t remember when he ran so fast in his life, and perhaps he never looked so bizarre; a man in his corded pyjama running through the street of Paris with his battered, very English dressing gown flowing behind him like some bizarre parachute. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt such rush, maybe the time when he almost missed Hogwarts Express, maybe it was the last day of submitting that potions assignment to Professor Slughorn or perhaps to save Leta. He pushed the crowd away from him as he felt the icy January wind swiftly passing by his ears, making them ache. He wished that the hidden elevator would go faster now because he realised it was nearly five minutes to twelve.

“Where is the trial?” Theseus asked the receptionist of the French Ministry of Magic with such ferocity and urgency that she was a little thrown back before she could direct him to the way. A victorious rush crept through Theseus’ blood; Theseus Scamander the war hero of British Ministry of Magic is running the French Courtroom in his pyjamas to declare that the woman who was accused falsely is far above than the jury—now that’s the headlines he could pursue to read. Being an Auror taught him to measure the steps he is going to take, and for the first time in a very long time, Theseus wasn’t concerned with the outcome. He didn’t care if he is persecuted for disturbing a criminal trial, he didn’t care if she rejects him, and he didn’t care about anything at all. He just wanted her to know that he is what he is.

“Monsieur, you cannot be here... the Warlock Council is already on session--”

“Stupify--”

“Bombarda...”

Theseus had a reputation with his auror business and certainly was revered for it but today he actually felt proud for his headstrong action. With him barging in with a bang, the Warlock juries came to a standstill and all of the council looked at him with dismay and contempt, but there was one person who didn’t look at him. The person who was sitting on the trial chair, poised, upright and calm; the person who was clad in black and her face veiled.

“Impeccable timing Mr. Scamander, but in case you haven’t noticed, a session is going on.” The French Minister said sonorously with a heavy accent. Theseus could feel his ears heating with the patronised humiliation from the Warlock Council, but he chose to stay on his ground, firmly and surely. He took a sharp breath and lifted his face a little high.

“You’re wrong...”

“I’m sorry--”

“You are wrong about her. And forgive my French, but you’re all bloody coward...” Theseus said with a straightened face, “You saw and know what happened in Saint Chappell and refuse to acknowledge it. So I have come here, as the British Representative--”

“To do what, pray tell us?” the French Minister asked.

“To testify for my employee--”

Newt and Tina were standing outside. They had been there since yesterday when they couldn’t find Theseus. Their anxiety redoubled when they saw Maxine in black robes brought in the ministry at dead of the night with high-security aurors—but Theseus was nowhere to be seen. They became even more petrified when they heard why she was brought in—apparently, she confessed that she devised the murder of Anatole and her father with an unknown Englishwoman, and she had ardently confessed that she used her particularly for her status as an Unspeakable, who as soon as her vow is broken would be killed by a self-automated killing cursed, placed at the lower spine of hers, like any Unspeakable in the British Ministry. Only Newt knew that it wasn’t true—he knew the identity of the woman and with it, relied everything. But nothing matters with his knowing—hell, even his employment was illegal, if someone could do anything legitimately, it was Theseus. But the problem was Newt didn’t know how much his brother knew, or knew anything at all. He and Tina were stuck in a strange dichotomy whether they should look for Theseus outside, or wait for him, and they decided to stick around—just to see Maxine for the last time before the inevitable happens. He was afraid of the time Theseus will find out all about this.

However, an uproar ensued near the wing of the Warlock Council. Tina stepped forward quickly and scrambled whatever French she knew to ask what was happening. Tina’s agitated return made Newt anxious.

“What is it?” Newt asked.

“Someone broke in during the trial. The guard identified him as a tall brunet Englishman in corded pyjama and dressing gown--” Tina huffed in excitement, “sounds familiar--?”

“Theseus...” Newt mouthed the name of his elder brother and rushed towards the council door and halted stop when he saw Theseus coming out of the door. His well-sculpted face unreadable.

“What happened, what happened to her?” Tina asked hastily.

“I don’t know...” Theseus said quietly, “all I did was speaking the truth about her and what happened. She has always been so tight-lipped about everything. They asked me to prove it, and when I did—anyway, she was held in the trial because the French minister doesn’t trust her narrative—I don’t know what will happen next”

The courtroom door reopened, but this time the Trio was pushed aside by the plethora of journalists from all across Europe. Cameras flashed and the entire hullabaloo doubled as the Chief Justice the French Minister followed by Maxine herself came out. Tina closely looked at the minister’s face: there is no way he willingly did what he was to state. In this matter of national threat and the post-mortem scenario of a diplomat made him decide something very unwilling and obligatory. Moreover, Theseus willingly testified for Maxine. What could possibly happen?

As the minister walked forward, Maxine’s black figure glided like a dark silhouette of shadow. Her head and face were covered with a black birdcage veil that differed slightly from the long training mourning face cover that she had to wear. As the minister made to the podium where he shall give a statement to the Wizarding Press, Maxine’s head briefly turned towards the trio’s way.

None of them were hearing what the French Minister had to say. Tina noticed Theseus’ nose getting redder and redder as the time passed, she compassionately grabbed his shoulder.

“I saw her kissing Newt in the church--” he rapidly whispered and Newt’s indirect eyes flashed towards him with a pang of swift guilt, “Seus, I tried to stop her but--”

“it’s okay Newt... it’s okay, I deserve that. Twice now... I took away Leta from you, and she was taken away from me, and I neglected her—I deserve that.” Theseus lowered his eyes and squeezed his temple, “I deserve that...”

“No, you don’t...” Newt said quietly but firmly, “you don’t deserve any of that...” Tina interjected quickly “yes Theseus, you don’t need to blame yourself. All of these that are happening right now is some kind of bad timing—we are going through a bad phase that’s all. It’s not always--” Tina’s focused became hazy and Newt knew what she was thinking, “good things that happen with good people. Look at my sister—she just got persuaded away--” Tina said. Her eyes veered towards Maxine’s way, her eyes glistening “so was she... By Isolde’s hair, I used to be so angry with her—the I understood--” suddenly her tone became more determined and firm, “but it’s not the time to think stuff like that... you showed up when she needed you the most, even though she never mouthed it herself. You are patient with her, you understand her, you remember stuff about her, little stuff that is too minute—Theseus, admit it to yourself—you deserve her”

The last sentence sends a tremor in Newt’s veins and it almost scared him. Wasn’t that the fact that made fall for Tina once again, right here in the French ministry—eyes like salamander—but then again he, somewhere and someplace felt similar feelings for her too, the moments spent, the little incidents that put up a smile on his face—his train of thought came to a halt when he saw Maxine’s dark figure emerging towards the podium to make her statement—one of her hand was at her side, abjectly lulled into a peculiar position. Newt’s eyes focused on her hand, they were two meters apart from each other, and there she was—her hand, lulling to one side peculiarly. A slight spasm passed through her fingers. But it was not the strangest thing he saw. Theseus suddenly stepped forward boldly and grasped her hand. The podium wasn’t high enough to conceal Theseus’ existence, but the hands snaked together surely under the wooden shadow. Tina noticed the whole thing with a slight smile on her face and then she lead Newt from the back to a front, to see the face of Maxine.

Maxine’s face was still covered with birdcage veil, he faces slightly lowered. She didn’t speak right away. Newt was very uncomfortable looking at her under the bright flashlights of the Press Cameras. But when she straightened up to speak, she stunned people around her.

“As you are aware of,” Maxine said quietly but firmly enough “I was accused of murdering my husband on the altar and father with an unknown woman as an accomplice. I assure you it was a false narrative created by the French Ministry to interrogate me. I guess my father, despite his reputation all across Europe, pissed off a couple of people. The real narrative was brought again in the High Warlock Council this morning, by none other than this man--” Maxine turned her head towards Theseus, “who had put his reputation and job on the leverage to clear my name. The truth, ladies and gentlemen is more tragic than ever. The woman that died alongside my father and my late husband was my mother. My birth mother who happened to be the mistress of my father, her crime was she was a muggle-born and she gave birth to me. I was taken away from her and raised in Valois household with shame and contempt as my constant companion. That woman returned to my wedding for the sole purpose of killing my father, who hadn’t the courage to honour her, and for whom she spent her years in shame. Despite my father’s generous nature and keen insight, I say he brought it upon himself. A tragic loss France suffers now for one mistake he made and the lack of courage to admit it. Reputation is a scary thing; it makes one do things that are bad or harmful to others like my father did when he tried to marry me off with a criminal and a Grindlewald supporter who happened to know my secret. And to continue that lie, he was forced to imprison three innocent people into the Tower of Silence. Ainsi tu Seras—‘Thus shall you be’—a proverb we all learned in younger years that our deeds carve our final destiny. Let not remember my father’s death with a scandal, a mistake that he committed, but a lesson—a lesson that perhaps be with us in the darker times.”  

The press sheepishly stood before her, and then one after another cleared off. They did expect a scoop, another scandal—but her solemn and brutally honest confession put them off of their game. They didn’t even stay to ask a further question, there was nothing much to ask—with every stroke of her words, she shed every identity she had before: the duchess, the daughter of a diplomat, the widow of the British Junior undersecretary, the former employee of British ministry... the assistant.

Theseus slowly let go of her hand as she stepped down from the podium. She crossed the side of the wooden structure and slowly let go of her train that she was holding to walk. The black fabric glided on the pristine glassy floor as she slowly clacked her way forward. The trio watched her curiously, with bated breath, as she stood still for several moments. After a while, she slowly turned head around and her eyes were fixed on them.

[Second Theme: Aeon by Nick Murray: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Paqvq7XZGs ]

“Take me outside... I want to see the sky”

They were thrown off at her bizarre request but complied nonetheless. She slowly walked forward, rejecting both Newt and Theseus’ attempt to support her. As the spiraled lift opened outside, she sauntered towards the snow-laden main road. The powdery flakes brushed on everyone’s face, breathing their last icy breath as they disappeared. Maxine’s shoulder was slowly being studded with the white specks of snow as she slowly ripped off her black gloves and threw them on the street. She finally took off her pillbox hat and the mourning veil that was attached to it and tossed them into the air to vanish into nothingness. Theseus, Newt, and Tina looked at her mesmerized as she slowly looked up towards the sky, her pinned curls came undone behind her, her pale naked hands ascending as if to grasp a piece of heaven. The fresh snow of the New Year fell and dissolved on her warm face, tricking down like tears of joy. Like the last escaping breath from a dying person, a word came out from her mouth--

“Je suis libérée... ” (I am free)

...

The sun was the same as Newt remembered it at the Arc of Triumph as if never set and stood in the same manner as it did last year. The sun, in its brilliant golden, red, pink and purple mantle reminded him of Maxine as she stood at the bottom of the Arc and recited some strange French poetry. The sun was oddly similar to the winter Parisian sun, as he stood with his brother and Tina at the edge of the port of Saint-Malo. The noises of the ferry, the sailors felt like they, like the sun had been waiting to see this moment happen, the moment of which they all knew beforehand, except the three of them. With heavy heart, they waited for Maxine, as she prepared for her exile—stripping off her previous sparkling mantle of power and the outspoken statement has its price. Women like her are not tolerated in the polite, patriarchal society.

Light footsteps turned their heads towards the back. Maxine was standing right behind them, dressed in travel cloak and bowler hat, all in mourning black. Her face was made up, primed and proper with neat red lipstick and eyes winged with kohl. Her solemn face changed into her usual playful one when she smiled her usual crooked smile.

“Ready?”

“Together...” Theseus said fondly.

They walked Maxine at the stairs of the ship. However, she didn’t step right away, she turned again to the people, her accidental friends, and allies that came together because of a decision she made a few months ago, sitting in a restaurant. She gave them an amused look.

“Why the long faces? Shouldn’t you be happy that I will be finally away from your hair?” Maxine commented sarcastically, “of all people, Tina, you should be happy--”

“Do you like to get under people’s skin on a regular basis” Tina sniffed a little, “or is it the occasion of New Years?”

“Oh, Tina...” Maxine came near and wrapped an arm around her, “I am going to miss you...” she looked at her with an affectionate expression, “you should consider yourself lucky, because I am finally withdrawing myself from the competition.”

The three of them looked at her dumbfounded, Maxine’s mischievous smile softened into sombreness “you think I must be playing with you but no” Maxine turned her attention to Newt, looking straight towards him, smiling lightly as he attempted to hide beneath his unkempt hair, “I have been thinking about our the relationship we had in past three or four weeks, about you—all could think about how I have taken a space between you two. I had been impulsive and adamant even to admit that you have Tina, but now when I have buried my mum and my dad together, all I could do is to blame myself--”

“Maxine...” Newt spoke softly, “whatever you thought about us, or your parents were wrong. I may be a little dense in many places, but I am not blind—I saw how you behaved around me and I could ignore your advances, but somehow I couldn’t say no to you... do you know why?”

Maxine looked at him with vacant eyes

“Because I love you Maxine Valois—I cannot explain that feeling because I never had it before. It is not the way I felt for Leta, or I feel for Tina. So Max, if you think of anything, remember that—no matter what happens, I will still, have a place for you in my heart--” Newt reached out for Tina’s hand and groping his way through her fingers nervously he grasped it surely, “yes, I cannot love you the same way I love Tina, but I don’t love you the same.”

The Stuart of the ship announced to the board within five minutes. But Maxine stood teary-eyed before Newt, looking at him with an unknown expression.

“I suppose that’s the best consolation I can get... Newt Scamander, you gave this girl more than she deserved... I will never forget you as long as I live.”

A drop trickled from her eye as she spoke. The sun was nearly behind the shadowy cityscape, the east darkened with the inky night’s prelude, and Maxine’s dark eyes fell on Theseus, standing a little further than the rest, his blue eyes glittering and fixated on the gray water, sparking bleakly with the leftover daylight.

“Theseus... aren’t you going to say anything? I will not see you for six months--”

“It’s not fair...it’s just not fair...”

“I know... but I am used to the unfair—it makes great tabloid headlines”

Theseus broke into a burst of unwilling laughter and the welled up tears splashed from his eyes unceremoniously. Maxine watched the change of his expressions fondly; there was a certain endearment in that innocent smile that hasn’t faded away after so many harshnesses of his life.  

“There were so many things I wanted to say, so many things--”

“I will wait for you--”

“You--”

“Yes...” Maxine smiled forcefully; there was a constant swelling pain in her heart that arose by looking at him, “I’ll have to don’t I...?” She reached for her pocket and pulled out her wand, “I am supposed to leave this with the ministry, but I guess ministry employee would do... ” her pale finger caressed the length of the wand one last time, “aspen and phoenix feather, 11 inches--”

“Well that explains a lot...a lot of that lip--” Theseus’ unexpected sass earned him a well-intended slap on his forearm, as they both broke out in laughter. They stood, on the twilight at Saint-Malo, blue eyes locked with black ones with glistening tears of parting sorrow and with a hope of future reunion. The bugle of the ship bellowed in the sea, ready to take Maxine to an unknown horizon away from magic and away from everything she knew. At the threshold to another life, she was simply looking back to the man with whom she started a new life, who looked at her the same way he looked four years ago.

“Take care of it would you?”

As the resonance of her words faded from Theseus’ ears, the ship started to sail across the horizon, chasing the setting sun at the bustling port of Saint-Malo. Maxine’s waving hand vanished into the sky as she parted. She left all behind, everything she was and everything she knew, and it takes great strength to be her. like a Zhou-ou that is made to run away, or like the Phoenix that is made to burn and rise from its ashes, Maxine Valois burned through every obstacle in her life. In the dark times, when Grindlewald advanced and wrecked nation after nation, Maxine Valois burned like a flash of lightning that illuminated everything in an instance and faded into the dark. After a long period of suffering, she was finally free; freedom earned by herself, freedom from being trapped within the terrible memories, the freedom that came from confessing her suffering, something which she wasn’t allowed. As she sailed away, she smiled, looking at the setting sun. The sounds of seagulls flying towards their home reminded her of the life she left behind. There were no gloves in her hands...she would not need them anymore.

--The End--

--

Tags: @my-current-fandom-is

--

The title “Ainsi Tu Seras” was inspired by the story of “ Marguerite de Bressieux (15th-century legend/pseudohistory)The Black Knight Who Hunted Rapists. ” When I stumbled across it on this particular website (https://www.rejectedprincesses.com/princesses/marguerite-de-bressieux ) I thought I should incorporate with Maxine’s story. However, the end result became something else: I found an oblique parallel between the Newt-Maxine-Tina and Marguerite-Hrothgar-Audrey chain. Following up with the Oedipus myth, I finally depicted Maxine’s character development: a process where she dissociates with her mother and Audrey’s myth of vengeful lover. She takes a decision that she will pursue Newt no more, a path that may lead her to the same end as her mother.

Gloves play a significant part in Maxine’s story: it is an instrument to hide her Mark of honor, a symbol of her bondage. Missing gloves (in Maxine’s case) means freedom or the instances when she tries to be free.

I will write an epilogue, where I will finally close the story for good. It may take some time, so I ask your patience. Also, I will publish my masterlist with the poster of the story

Thank you for accompanying me on this journey.

[niora]

She was not expecting anyone to be here. She wiped at her face, trying desperately to hide that she’d been crying. Northwests didn’t cry. They had an image to uphold. But it was hard for a 12 year old to not be tearful over being told she’d be staying with relatives that didn’t care for her, while her father went to Portland for some business. She hated her aunt and uncle. She hated how she couldn’t be herself around them.

“ Are you crying?”

“ No. I have...dust in my eyes.”

The two stared at each other in silence for a time. Taking in their appearances. To her, this creature seemed to be a fawn, but it was pitch black save for the bright, almost electrical dotted markings on it’s back. It had golden hooves, tiny horn buds and bright gold eyes. She’d never seen a deer like this before, but she thought it looked very beautiful.

To the deer, this seemed to be a very young human girl, though it was unsure what age. Dark mid-length hair, icy blue eyes and pale skin. Like the settlers, the deer noted. She was dressed in a white skirt with black stockings, a large white and navy collar, navy sash at the thigh and a large navy bow in her hair. 

“ You’re not scared of me?” it said in a voice that she thought sounded young. 

“ Should I be?” she asked cautiously, she wasn’t even sure what the deer was, or if this was even a ‘deer’. “ What are you?”

“ I’m a guardian.”

“ Oh.” she blinked, not really sure what that meant. 

“ The forest is my home. I keep it safe.” it explained “ Are you lost?”

“ I...” she looked around, she had been running headlong into the forest, not even bothering to stay on the trails. She really wasn’t sure where she was now. She hadn’t been thinking of any kind of destination and she hadn’t thought of what to do or where to stay once she ran away. She felt even more foolish, her emotions had blindly led her to unknown territory.

“ I think so.” she said sadly

“ I know the way back to town. I can take you there.”

“ NO!” she cried “ No, I don’t want to go back home, I’m not wanted there.”

“ It will be dark soon, it’s not good to be out here alone.” it paused and thought where else this human could stay if she didn’t want to go home, it thought of a cave, but that would be too cold and there could be bats...

“ There’s a church not too far away, you could stay there.”

She flinched. A church? Someone like her. Something like her...being welcomed in a church? She shook her head. “ I don’t think that’s a good idea, I don’t want to burden anyone. Isn’t there somewhere else I could go?”

“ The church is abandoned, there’s no one there, but there is shelter and it’s warm. Come on.” 

The creature tilted it’s head, motioning her to follow and she did so. As they walked on, she noticed the forest getting denser, darker. She wasn’t sure if the sun was setting quicker or this creature was leading her further away from civilization. The latter thought scared her. As much as wanted to get away from home, she didn’t want to get away from town.

“ Is there any food in that church?”

“ No, but I could get you some. I know where there are a lot of berries and roots you could eat. Unless you’re a meat eater?”

She smiled at the mention of her being a ‘meat eater’, meaning this creature was probably vegetarian, like most deer were. This eased her fears of it wanting to possibly lure her away to eat her. “ I do eat meat, but berries sound good.”

There was no trail as they headed up. Branches and weeds caught her skirt and seeds stuck to her black stockings, but she paid little mind. They were already ruined by the time she met this creature, when she fell a few times trying to run off. The undergrowth and dense trees gave away to a clearing, and before them was a run down looking church. This creature wasn’t kidding when it said it was abandoned, it looked like it hadn’t seen a living soul in decades. It’s wood sides covered in ferns, vines and brambles, it’s wide doors fallen off the hinges, the roof thankfully looked intact. 

“ I haven’t been in here in a long time, but I remember there being fabric in the back rooms, I think they’re called blankets?”

She barely registered what it just said, she’d never been in a church before. Her father would’ve never allowed it. She looked around at the little figures sitting on alcoves above, colored in the dancing prisms of the light from broken stained glass, tattered red carpet harboring green moss underfoot and a lopsided cross in the very front. It wasn’t nearly as frightening as she was told it would be. It was very somber in a rustic sort of way.

She hadn’t noticed she was still walking, following the deer creature to the very front and through a room beyond it. It got noticeably dimmer but still lit from a single window. She witnessed the creature use it’s mouth to pull open a wardrobe. Inside were blankets, clothing on hangers and various other fabric that she figured were things for a ritual of sorts. She picked up a blanket, surprised by how dustless they were, the heavy pine doors must have protected them from the elements and moths.

“ I’ll get some food, I’ll be right back.” said the creature, and with a jump, it gracefully and effortlessly ran into the air, sparks of electricity on it’s golden heels. She was in awe. She only knew others like her could fly with brooms, but never just lift into the sky like that. What was this creature?

She would have to ponder about that later, the noon sun was setting, making the room even dimmer. She looked around at the other rooms, one seemed to be in a state of total decay, the floorboards had rotted to the dirt foundation they were laid on, the other room’s window had been busted, allowing nature to take hold of it. She decided to call the ‘office’ she was in, her temporary home. It had a desk, books, a bench, chairs and the single window was intact. She spotted an oil lantern on top of a shelf, shook it, there was still fuel.

By the time the creature came back with food, cleverly using a discarded offering basket on a pew, she’d made a little bed out of the bench and chairs, pulling them together against a wall.The creature set down the basket of food and looked at the makeshift bed area.

“ I found a lantern in a cabinet. I couldn’t find any matches though, so I had to use magic to get it started.” 

The creature tilted it’s head curiously “ Magic?”

“ Yes, I’m a witch. But I’m still in school, so I don’t know a whole lot of spells yet.”

Golden eyes blinked for a second. This girl was a witch? “ You are a very young witch. I’ve only met old ones before.”

“ I’m not so young!” she pouted “ I’m 12 years old this year! Nearly a young lady.”

“ Only 12 years? I am over 2 billion.”

“ That’s impossible, an animal can’t be that old.”

“ But I am. And I’m not an animal, I’m a guardian.” he explained again “ I suppose, a kind of deity of the forest.”

Her eyes went wide. A deity! Well that certainly explained how it could fly, and make electrical sparks as it did so. But she thought deities were much...bigger and more grander looking. This ‘deity’ was but a small deer. A baby. She’d never heard not read of one like that. 

“ What do they call you?”

“ I have many names. The tribes that were here before settlers came had as many as 100 names for me. Storm Bringer, Singing Rain...”

Ah, so it was an ‘Indian’ idol. She’d seen their likenesses on the trip up to Oregon carved on masks from the mysterious tribes of the cold north at trading posts, and painted on the capes and hats of the ‘Indians squaws’ who sold rabbit and otter furs along the trails. 

“ Oh but what do you call yourself? Surely you must have a personal name of your own. Like mine. My name is America Northwest, but I don’t care for it much, so I chose to go by Ami or Ricky instead.”

“ I don’t have a name like that.”

“ How sad.” she said, not have a personal name to identify with. Not even a nickname. “ What would you like to be called? I’ve always fancied William or Catherine. They’re such lovely names.”

“ I don’t know what those mean. If I am to name myself, I would like it to mean something personal to me.”

“ That’s fair.” She supposed if a name were to be chosen, it should be special. But there was time for that, maybe after she ate she’d recommend more names. She wasn’t sure what gender the little deity was, so she’d have to come up with girl and boy names, or even neutral ones like Lark or Joe.

She spied the food in the basket and her stomach growled, those berries looked delicious and she immediately recognized some to be gooseberries and wild strawberries.

“ You’re not eating?” she asked

“ I have eaten while I was out. You’re welcome to the basket.”

The whole basket? Well that was swell! She picked up a wild strawberry and popped it into her mouth. So sweet, so fragrant. Nothing like the larger ones she’d eaten back home. Very soon, the contents of the basket disappeared as did the sunlight. She lay on her side, stroking the soft and cloud-like fur of her new nameless friend. It seemed to enjoy it greatly.

“ Tell me more of your home in Ca-For-Nah.”

“ California.” she softly corrected “ San Francisco is a very big city with lots of people. It’s also very foggy and windy. The coastline is very rocky with lots of flat beaches where my mama and I used to go into the bathing machine. My papa took me to the World’s Fair last year...” 

She trailed off as her head dipped down. She normally didn’t sleep so early, but all the running and crying exhausted her. Eventually she went quiet, and lay on her side in her little makeshift bed without a blanket, the body of the creature against her radiated warmth.

“ World’s Fair. San Francisco.” repeated the creature. There was no context nor mental image of such a place, yet the names ignited curiosity. Never had the deer god left the land before, it knew nothing of the world beyond Gravity Falls or that such amazing sounding places existed. The little deer god tucked in it’s legs and curled closer to the young witch. Though it did not need sleep, it stayed quiet, listening to her soft breathing and watching the flickering of the lamp.

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

Author’s Notes:

If you couldn’t guess, this takes place probably around the early 1900s, what with the bathing machines and mention of the World’s Fair aka Panama–Pacific International Exposition. Ricky here also uses terms that described the Native peoples of the Pacific Northwest back then, which of course are really offensive now, but for the sake of her rich white background and historical accuracy, are used. Doesn’t mean she can’t unlearn it, especially with Sam, who remains nameless for now. 

A second part is pending. I like this AU, I’ve been trying to bust this writer’s block for a few days. If this is what does it, I’m continuing it. For how long? Idk. Maybe skip a few years into their friendship to see how time changes things. We’ll see.

[0416esther-blog]

The Land of Monet~

Entry 5

First Impression: I'm tired.

Sadly enough, I was too tired to even realize that I was at the Musée Marmottan-Monet. It only processed my brain when I saw the banners say the "Musée Marmottan-Monet" and when our whole crew had to go in to buy our tickets.

But looking back at the pictures that I took and just studying them, I realized how beautiful the building was from the outside even before going in. The side of the building was just constructed with two rows of windows. Although most of the windows were closed for Museum purposes, there were two windows at the top left corner that was open with the curtains showing through, which was just enough to give the comfortable feeling of the building. What really caught my eye though was the number of details carved into the building, making it look as if there were drapes going around the wall.

When I actually did go in, the first thing to greet me was a small room, explaining what the Museum used to be. And I was shook when I found out that it was actually a House of the art historian Paul Marmottan who later bequeathed the house and his collections including Renaissance tapestries and sculpture, Consular and First Empire portraits, medallions, paintings, and furniture, all to the Academie des Beaux-Arts in 1932. Then in 1966, Michel Monet, the second son of Claude Monet, bequeathed 65 canvases that he inherited from his father. (Which that's when I realized oh! that's why its called Marmottan Monet! ding ding ding)

The room next to it was other permanent collections that the museum held.  

Overall the museum was really easy to navigate. Also, I really loved the interior because they hung the paintings just as how it would be hung in a house with other settings, like different furniture to decorate the rooms. However, despite the easy navigation, we had a really hard time trying to find Monet himself because we couldn't find the way downstairs. 

Eventually, we found out that we had to go through the orange opening which led to the temporary exhibition, and at the end, there were stairs to (behold~) Claude Monet.

The first thing that greets me after the stairs was another exhibition that was on the opening to THE UNEXPECTED DIALOGUES by Fromanger. They were very amazing, having a very modern-y twist to the whole museum.

And then finally. 

At last. 

We come to Monet. 

To be very honest with you, I didn't really know Monet. I knew his name and I knew his work, I just didn't know it was his until like.. now. And I was ShOoK.

These lily pads. Really, they look just like a simple gesture drawing. you really see the artist's hand appearing in the piece. Some are very dry brush works like the work on the top while others are thicker paint brushstrokes like the bottom.

And what is so fascinating is that these, what look like gesture paintings from close up, are actually a piece, a scene that is depicted, from far away. All these fast strokes and lines all come together to make one beautiful piece.

And I really love the diversity of the lily pad. The one on top is very warm colors, with the ground really showing through the paint while the bottom one is very cool colors where the ground isn't as visible.

But what I loved the most were his landscape paintings. While his lilies were on the right (when facing from coming down the stairs) and center of the basement, the left side had all his different landscape paintings and they were amazing to look at. His style of effortless-looking painting is so gorgeous and like the people are depicted with two brushstrokes but they totally look like humans. They were very different from his lily pad paintings, but had (somehow) the same feeling.. the same vibe.

This piece specifically caught my attention when I saw it. 

I really loved, instantly, the very limited marks he used to paint this. Also, his color palette is very pastel and light, very much tinted with white. It looks as if he is using oil paint with no solvent on some places because we can literally see the pure paint just dried and created this creamy, almost sculpture-y quality to it. 

The picture seems to be indicating a church because the architectural feeling of the painting is very much a cathedral. The overall building is painted in pale pink with a bit of pale brown in the middle to indicate an arch of (what seems to appear as) a stain glass window. There isn't any detail to the building but ironically, the limited light blue marks are just enough to display the painting in a scene. The light brown comes back into play at the very bottom of the canvas, with some spots of white and light red. There are also bits of blues behind and on top of the brown paint. I think he is using a wet on wet style of painting because the paints are less crisp but more mixing. 

I feel like the focal point of this piece is the section in the middle where there is a chunk of paint just smeared onto the canvas without any solvent to smoothen it down. My eyes are drawn back to that one spot where the white, the yellow, orange, pink, and blue all meet up.

Literally, we all just sat there and was able to admire his work for like years because it was so worth just staring at for a long time. I also really love how the museum was curated, with the permanent collection being in the rooms and the exhibition being into the leading into Monet so you can see the temporary exhibitions on the way to Monets paintings. The paintings were all amazing and I feel like it was arranged in a way so that we gradually go through the museum until we meet the Monet's paintings, the grand reveal. Which I really liked, personally, how the way the museum was arranged because we were able to look at all the paintings and it was made in a way so that we couldn't just look at Monet and leave, but we were introduced to the permanent collections, through the temporary exhibitions, and ending with Monet.

[sylvinuk-turkey]

Due to Gokay not sleeping well and others with jet-lag, today (Monday) was a really slow morning. I got up around 7:30, Adam was already up. He got Turkish coffee around 8:30, and I worked until about 9a. Gokay and Carley woke up around 9:30. Gokay and Adam went back out for Börek and we had that for breakfast until about 10:45, at which point we decided we needed to get going. By the time we were all dressed and ready we left around 11:30 in a taxi to old Istanbul. With traffic and putting in the wrong Uber address 😅🙃 we got to Gülhane park around 12:30p.

We strolled from the outside edge of the park in towards the entrance to Topkapı palace. We didn’t like the look of the line, so again Gokay saved us with his Turkish and we found a short line and got our museumpass which will get us into all the museums in Istanbul throughout the week. He got a Turkish citizen version, which was less money but doesn’t get him into as many places.

The palace itself was enormous! It’s hard to describe and I took wayyy too many pictures, so here are a few. Thinking about what life was like there was interesting, but difficult, since it doesn’t at all match our existing mental models. For example, it was hard to get a sense of what these rooms would have looked like with furniture, since they were mostly empty. Or anything to do with the Harem, the place where all the women stayed, and where no one else was allowed, unless you were a special protective eunuch or the sultan/emperor.

After that we walked down the hill towards the mosques (there are many!). Sadly, the three we saw today were mostly being renovated so we didn’t get the full experience. First, we did Hagia Irene (Aya irini) - a former Orthadox church that was NOT turned into a Mosque due to using it for weapon storage, and today was 90% was covered up with restoration scafolding. Next we went to Hagia Sophia - a old Byzantine cathedral that was changed into a Mosque (1453AD), which was then changed to a museum (1934), and has now been changed back to a Mosque (2020). Sadly due to restorations, they have closed the second floor with the beautiful paintings on the walls and ceilings. We took a break and did a quick trip into the awesome cisterns under the mosques while the call to prayer happened. Then we made our way through the square/park between the mosques to the Blue mosque (Sultan Ahmet Camii) to finish our day. This one was the most covered of all of the mosques, we saw a little bit of the dome and two stained glass windows. However, we did get an interesting historical lesson from a tour guide (for free!) because Gokay spoke with him in Turkish. We learned why Mecca is important - God put Adam and Eve in different places on earth when he kicked them out of the garden, so they spent their time crying, praying and walking and found each other in Mecca. And we learned a little more about prayer times.

We ended our day with dinner at a historic and famous kofte place (Sultan Ahmet Koftecisi), which was definitely a much needed rest after pretty much 5 hours on our feet, but which we all agreed hadn’t been the best meal we’ve had in the 2 days here, not that it was in any way bad! Although, we tried the deserts there, they were a little lacking, so we ended up at the dessert place a couple doors down which had some amazing Baklava and Turkish delight in the window to try “Sticky ice cream.” We tried both types, beaten and cut. And had a few pieces of pistachio baklava and Turkish tea with it.

We headed home using public transit, but then switched to a Taxi for the rest of the way. Getting home every night we are sweaty messes (plus some jetlag) so the last couple of hours are showering, making phone calls to the US and getting ready for bed. As a PS, throughout this day a TON of bug bites started showing up all along my arms (this is who I am… they just love me). I was going back and forth between whether they were mosquito or bed bug bites because mine are just lines up both my arms (which was like a pattern). In the end it was 2 hungry mosquitos who we killed when we got home.

[beardedd0nut]

Sasquatch does Russia

Well fuck, it's that point in the trip where we have done a lot and I've drank a fair bit so my memory might be a little muddy but let's try and recant everything that happened between arriving in St Petersburg to now.

That second day we had a guided tour of the Hermitage in St Petersburg. Our tour guide olga was amazing, so enthusiastic and interesting to hear from. We rode the metro to the hermitage and went via the deepest metro tunnel in town, aspx 86meters deep. Crazy to to think I've been both 86 meters above the earth and below it this trip.

The hermitage was once a palace, I don't think I could stand cleaning the joint because it is fucking massive, but it is now a huge museum housing all kinds of art and artefacts from the Russian empire. It is said that if you spent one minute in front of every piece there that it would take you seven years... unfortunately our visas don't last that long so instead we got a massive 3 hour crash course. We saw pieces by Monet, and da Vinci, we saw the throne room, and ball rooms and massive roofs painted to look like sculptures.. it was an overload. Everything has been soaked in history or masterworks and my god is it intense. Three hours in a museum is long at the best of times but with detailed stories attached and the little bits and pieces in every piece to look at it was almost too tiring to even stand and soak it all in, but amazing none the less.

Oir lunch was at a nice little local Russian place, followed swiftly by a visit to the church of the spilled blood. This is the church where a tsar was killed and so his son set up a memorial church in his honour. These Russian orthodox churches are really quite beautiful. Outside is usually any number of orbs or do,es decorated in colour or gold and inside they are covered, as in not one inch is spared, of religious depictions. Wether it is painting or scripture or sculpture not one surface remains untouched. Also apparently if you've seen Anastasia it means something, but I, not sure about that.

The evening saw a few of us wander down the main shopping district and back to the hotel. Now it's not like I don't already know I look like a tourist, but that doesn't mean that every other Russian scumbag pickpocket needed to try and get me. If that's your game dude be good at it, don't just expect me to stop do you can try and rip me off, were both better than that.

That evening a few of us went off to a craft beer place not far from where we were staying. It was awesome. I can't seem to stay away from the craft beers, even in a country famous for it's vodka. They had some beautiful IPAs and Kreigs on tap, as well as a cheeky imperial stout. It wasn't supposed to be a big night but uhh yeah, it was kinda big. The following morning was slightly thick, but that's never stopped anyone, so a couple of hydralites and it was out into the world.

The last day in st Petersburg began with a trip to the faberge museum. This was a beautiful fine art museum, and along with that came a security check and some high fashion plastic covers for my boots. Inside were 9 of the legendary eggs. They are so beautiful and elaborate and may never be replicated again. The eggs were made for the romanofs over several easters during their reign. Some just had a little picture or a hen within, but others held photo frames of family members or replicated a tree with a small bird inside. Each one was amazing to see and truly stunning.

The rest of the museum contained everything from silverware to cigarette boxes. These items were also created by faberge masters and had their own level of beauty within, and within a few rooms paintings that looked as though they were glowing on the walls that they stood. So we easily spent an hour or more just soaking up the stunning artworks within.

After such a big end morning it was time to go to the vodka museum. Walking through town we passed a lovely snow covered park and the back of saint isacs cathedral, but more on that later. The vodka museum held some nice old pieces within, but all the information was in Russian... and the audio guide was over and hour long for a room not much bigger than an average one bedroom apartment. However the entry included a vodka tasting, so that made up for it 😉 the first was a basic 5times distilled vodka, smooth and easy to drink. The second was infused with juniper and it had a gin aftertaste, not for me. The third was infused with pine nuts, it was different and I'm still not sure how to feel about it. The bar had a 1500 dollar bottle of vodka as well as a bottle shaped like an AK47. Was really funky.

After the vodka it was time to hit another cathederal. Buying tickets was difficult with the language barrier, and the woman selling me them didn't seem to understand that I wanted entry to the museum and the climb up to the top. The climb, while not as big as the belfry in Bruges, was trickier because it was about 200steps spiralling straight up. It gave a wonderful view of the city and caused me some serious jelly legs on the way down. Inside it was once again lovely and laced in gold and with some nuns and priests singing in the background it really added to the atmosphere.

That night was a new experience of travelling. An overnight train. While not particularly luxurious, I must say that twit was slightly more comfortable than on the plane. At least we got to lie down instead of staying seated like on the busses or planes. The only issue was it left late and we had to get off early, so I maybe got 4 hours sleep. This was followed by a 40 minute trip to the hotel, and a 3 hour bus/walking tour. I slept through most of the bus portion because a) I was tired as fuck and b) our new tour guide speaks like white noise and in a whisper like tone and could not be fucking harder to hear.

We finally got out somewhere near the red square and st basils, the famous church in town. We walked around and saw some churches, they are fucking everywhere in this town alongside the theatres. We also saw a great many plumes of smoke emitting from a power station or something similar near town. Then the red square and its lovely Christmas market. Before hittin the market it was necessary for a quick venture into lenins tomb. The man has been dead many a year and his body looks almost like a wax figure, and not gonna lie was half expecting him to get back up.

We met up and had a cheeky nap before heading out to dinner for some more traditional Russian foods. This included a beef borsch, it was delicious and full of flavour, and a couple more shots of vodka 😁

Today it was back with our stupidly fucking quiet tour guide for a trip into the city to see the kremlin. Again a lot of security, honestly it's crazier than the states. But to get inside the huge red walls and see the kremlin inside was really cool. Inside we weren't allowed to go to many places but saw the building Putin works in and the churches used by e royal families. One for baptism and birth, one for coronation and one for burying. It's practically a city within the city and has even been saved from destruction several times over.

We followed this with a quick tour of the metro. The brown line, yes it's a big brown ring line like a huge areshole around town, holds some great art within many of its station stops. The great thing is that the trains run so fast and frequently that we could get off, look at the mosaics or stain glass windows, and get back in within about 5-10 minutes. If that was Melbourne you'd be waiting a fucking half hour between stops.

Curenntly im just chilling in the hotel and getting ready to see the Russian ballet tonight. There will be a Prima ballerina and all, and it's pretty exciting to have such an experience. There's only a few days left in this strange yet beautiful land, and I'm going to try and fit in as much as possible.

The next update will most likely come the day before or the day I leave. Hope you've once again enjoyed this cheeky update, chatchya soon with some more adventures and tales.

[stunningvacationtips]

Amazing Monuments in Paris France as Eiffel Tower

Paris is famed throughout the globe for the appeal and also number of its monuments. Eiffel tower is an attractive icon of wonderful monuments of paris, france.

Paris is a city with an excessive record of unexpected visitor destinations, spots and also monuments of france. The vital Paris monoliths are so numerous, awesome, as well as varied when it involves duration and also architectural style. Paris is well known all over the world for the beauty and also number of its monoliths. Eiffel tower is a beautiful icon of fantastic monuments of paris, france. Everyone has listened to of Paris along with its renowned monuments like the Eiffel Tower, yet there is a whole lot even more to this capital of France compared to the apparent, simply by discovering the history that this city is steeped in you can uncover so much a lot more, plus with so many sightseeing attractions, you will certainly never be without somewhere to go as well as sights to find out in Paris.So Obviously, Paris wouldn't be Paris without the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre-Dame, the Sainte Chapelle or the Sacré Coeur but Paris is also a mix of settings and also societies: little roads, squares and also parks that worth to be gone to. Variety of monoliths which currently provide Paris its global identity were met refuse as well as antipathy by indigenous Parisians throughout the time of their building and construction. The Eiffel Tower, which was made to offer as a centerpiece for the Paris Exposition (World's Fair) in 1889, satisfied with strident factionalism amongst a number of the Parisian literati, that created, 'We, the authors, painters, carvers, designers as well as fans of the elegance of Paris, do protest with all our vigour and all our indignation, within the name of French taste and also endangered French art as well as history, against the worthless and monstrous Eiffel Tower.' Browse the assembled checklist of outstanding monuments of paris france below:

Amazing Monolith in Paris, France

Eiffel Tower - An Amazing Monolith in Paris, France

Go readily to see this gorgeous monolith of paris in france. The highest building in Paris as well as a globally identifiable icon of Paris, the Eiffel Tower requirements little introduction. The world-famous metal tower was built for the Paris International Exhibit in 1889 for your centenary of the Reign of terror. It is 320 meters high along with the tower is composed of 15,000 metal parts. It was the tallest building in the globe till the building and construction of the Realm State Building in 1931. An elevator goes to the leading where there is an out of breath take a look at the city. Really in shape site visitors can likewise climb the 700 stairways to the intermediate platform (115 m). While of its commencement, it had been the world's tallest monolith. La Tour Eiffel a Paris - The Eiffel Tower in Paris is a wonderful name of monolith that explains a sight that everybody hopes they are visiting someday. What can Paris be like without the Eiffel Tower? Well, Paris had currently proved its beauty to the globe prior to the tower was even built with many fantastic monuments: the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe as well as Notre-Dame. The Eiffel Tower, the impressive monolith paris, france surpasses them done in height as well as can be seen from each of these three buildings from a various, fascinating, angle. The iron tower still continues to be one of the most visited monoliths in the whole world.

Construction Background of Eiffel Tower Monument

The structure was developed as the entry arc for your Exposition Universelle, which was a World's Fair marking the centennial celebration of the Reign of terror, utilizing the Eiffel Tower being ushered in on 31 March 1889, as well as opened on 6 May 1889. There were 300 employees who signed up with together 18,038 pieces of puddled iron, which is really an extremely pure kind of structural iron, utilizing two together with a fifty percent million rivets. And also although the potential risk of accident was excellent as a result of its open structure and also only the 2 platforms, due to the fact that Gustave Eiffel took security preventative measures simply one guy passed away. When the Eiffel Tower was developed, it was met with resistance, as the public felt it had been an eyesore, even though Parisians today would certainly not want to be without it, due to the fact that it is commonly related to as a striking piece of structural art! Created in between 1887 and 1889, including the 24m antenna, the Eiffel Tower is 324m high and considers 7,300 heaps, which caused it to be the globes highest structure until 1930 when it was beaten by New York City's Chrysler Building.The tower could sway 6 to 7cm within the wind and because of the thermal development of the metal around the side encountering the sun, based after the ambient temperature, the top of the tower may move far away from the sunlight by as high as 18cm. The Eiffel Tower in Paris is re-painted every 7 years plus it takes about 6 lots of paint to complete it, merely to quit this monument from rusting.

Steps to Visit Eiffel Tower

The Eiffel Tower has some monitoring levels. The first as well as 2nd levels have dining establishments and also souvenir shops, and the 3rd and also highest degree gives an impressive view over Paris. Tickets can be acquired to visit the initial or 2nd degrees by lift, or by climbing the even more than 300 staircases that lead as high as each level. Tickets for your staircase towards the second level expense approximately half just as long as the lift tickets. The 3rd as well as highest degree is available just by elevator.The watching platform on the 3rd floor supplies breathtaking views of the capital. Price: regarding 13 euros per grownup, 9.90 euros for youths (14-24) and 7.50 euros for kids (4 to 11). Reduced rate if you take the steps.

Arc De Triomphe

It is additionally a popular monolith of paris like eiffel tower most visited by large number of people. Famous Napoleon's royal spots the 'Arc de Triomphe' offers a remarkable viewpoint over Paris as well as into its twelve avenues all converging in a star form. The main one being the popular Champs-Elysées Method. Visiting hours is from 10.00 to 5.30 and 9.30 to 6.30 in the summer season. Closed on public holidays. Every person involving Paris is more than a little educated concerning the Arc de Triomphe, the crowning splendor from the Champs Elysées, although few become aware just fairly just how big and also excellent this historical spots actually is.

Pantheon

The Panthéon is actually a neoclassically designed former abbey and interment site for a few of one of the most noteworthy figures in French record, including Victor Hugo, Louis Braille, and also Alexandre Dumas, whose casket was lastly moved to the internet site in 2002. With its location on greater ground, in addition, it offers stupendous sights from the city of Paris. Check out this top popular traveler destination and also amazing monument of paris in france reigion as eiffel tower.

Sainte - Chapelle

This lovely monument brings in the mass having wonderful layout. This traveler destination is most competitive spots and also remarkable monolith of paris as Eiffel Tower. Building of the Sainte-Chapelle began in the actual end of the 1230s and also this royal chapel was consecrated in 1248, being deemed to place among the most essential building work of arts standing within the Western World nowadays. The church was commissioned by King Louis IX in order to house much of his religious treasures, which include the specific crown of thorns believed to have been used by Christ. Site visitors will certainly see a few of the finest instances of 13th-century stained-glass home windows out there, along with numerous fancy sculptures plus some fine Gothic style. Throughout the French Revolution at the end of the 18th century, a lot of the chapel was destroyed and had to be reconstructed, although approximately two-thirds from the home windows are original.

Hotel De Ville

This neo Renaissance structure returning to 1873 was situated around the as soon as Grand Place de Greve. It had been created to replace the previous the one that was worn out below the Commune in 1871. The square made use of to be where happened horrid implementations. Ravaillac, the killer of Henri IV was torn apart alive in 1610. 136 statuaries stand for well-known historic numbers. Its stunning areas are embellished by numerous nineteenth century artists. Team visits only or by appointment.

Notre-Dame

Visit this stunning church as a gorgeous monument of paris like eiffel tower is essential among the people. The cathedral of Notre-Dame-de-Paris is truly a jewel of Gothic architecture as well as arguably among the finest churches in Europe. Created from the Middle-Ages, it truly is renowned to be at the centre phase of "The Hunchback of Notre-Dame", a 19th century unique authored by French author Victor Hugo.Construction on Notre-Dame started in 1163 during the Middle Ages, as well as the cathedral is thought about real heart of Paris. It is amongst the city's (as well as France's) most recognised monoliths. Put up around the Ile de la Cité, magnificent as well as stylish, Notre-Dame has seen over Paris as the city goes concerning its company for almost a thousand years. Being probably the most prominent building works in Paris, this gives consistent innovative inspiration to Parisians.

Sacre Coeur

Montmartre, and particularly the painters as well as cartoonists from your Place du Tertre, attracts several visitors. You can obtain to the basilica with the funicular. Situated in addition to the Butte Montmartre, the Basilica with its magnificent travertine white stone is amongst the primary spots in the Parisian sky. Integrated the Roman-Byzantine design, it really is decorated with 4 domes and a central dome 80 meters high. Its building started in 1875, however it was not consecrated up until completion of the First World Battle. Its belfry hosts 'la Savoyarde', the biggest bell in France. The basilica welcomes explorers from worldwide, that are able to remain at the Ephrem hostel, located nearby.

Palais du Louvre

It is stated that the Louvre is the globe's largest museum. Whether it is true or otherwise, it is one of the most impressive royal residences of Europe.Former home of the Kings of France, the Louvre and its glass pyramid open onto the garden of the Tuileries at the beginning place of the Historic Axis.

Palais Royal

Only the yards are open to the public, yet it deserves walking around the gardens to appreciate the style from the monolith, completed at the end of the 18th century. Social centre of the funding, home from the Kings' favourites and also seat of the management workplaces throughout the Empire, the Royal residence currently houses the Constitutional Council. The gardens and also dishonest betting galleries were dens of innovative anxiety at the end of the 18th century. You could currently discover stylish shops in the galleries.

So browse through the wonderful and also best place to travel for getaways the paris, is rich with history and also society and also is full of lovely monoliths as well as sites!

Know about History of Eiffel Tower, The Impressive Monument of Paris

[artdahlk-blog]

Blog Post 16

                The term Gothic is applied to art that was produced in Western Europe for the twelfth century through the sixteenth century in France and Europe. When I think of Gothic art, I think of stone sculptures and dark paintings. I was surprised that this chapter didn’t have many paintings or murals. It was basically all sculptures and buildings. The person who invented Gothic art is Abbot Suger. Suger made buildings unique by putting Gothic architecture in them. There were main elements in the making of Gothic architecture. Each building that was built in this period had: rib vaults, piers, flying buttresses, pointed arches, the skeleton and stained-glass windows. The rib vaults make less pressure around the building and makes more space to add windows. Piers are the support of the buildings. Compound piers were a mandatory object in Gothic architecture. I had no idea that Gothic architecture buildings used stained-glass windows. Abbot Suger thought that these buildings needed more light, so the stained-glass windows came into this period. The main colors in the Gothic art stained-glass windows were blue and red. It amazes me how stained-glass windows are made. It starts out as translucent colored glass. The translucent glass is formed together by colored glass. Once the glass makes a picture, it is framed by an iron armature.

                Most of Gothic architecture is inspired by the Romanesque period. Abbot Suger turned more of his attention to churches after Saint-Denis. One of the biggest achievements of Gothic architecture was the construction of a cathedral. By building this cathedral, the economy grew significantly. It gave jobs for many people. These jobs include masons, carpenters, sculptors, stonecutters, and other craftsman jobs. It helped the community come together or activities and religious opportunities.

                The main town of Gothic art would be Chartres. Chartres grew as a city when a cathedral was built. The cathedral was called the Chartres Cathedral. Chartres had vertical towers that elevated its appearance. When building this cathedral, the builders wanted it to be seen since it is at an elevated site. Throughout the cathedral, there is stained-glass lancet windows. This feature was in all Gothic cathedral entrance walls. I liked learning about the exterior sculptures of the Chartres cathedral. I think this cathedral is the most detailed and unique building that I have seen. It had three doors which were unique to any other building this chapter. The kings and queens were above the three outside doors. I liked how there were sculptures of saints around the three doors. The saints are very detailed and look real. I thought it was a clever idea to put the saint’s sculptures right by the door. It would feel like they were looking over you while walking into the cathedral. The ceiling was 120 feet high making it look more grand inside. I wish these cathedrals were still around, so we could see them today. I really liked reading this chapter. I was surprised how beautiful and well-designed this cathedral was. I was glad this was the chapter we ended on.

[littlenomo]

Rome Sweet Rome

This weekend I went to Rome with my Mum and sisters, and stayed in a rather cool Airbnb in the city. It was hot, hilarious and heavenly, especially once we all actually got there (thank Ryanair!).

Rome is crazy. It’s like you can’t even blink for fear you might miss a 2000 year old amphitheatre, city wall or risqué statue. I was really blown away by how much history there is crammed in every park and round every corner. With this in mind, our main itinerary of walking worked well, as we wandered from landmark to landmark, imagining our feet following the Romans through the centuries. I was quite impressed with my map reading skills and it really was a delight to explore the beautiful little cobbled streets even in the unexpected heatwave. Highlights included throwing some coins in the Trevi Fountain (which is a lot bigger than I imagined), seeing the Monument of Victor Emmanuel II (which holds two ENORMOUS statues of horses about to tug their respective carriages off into the sky) and the beautiful Villa Borghese gardens to the north of the city.

On our last day we also visited Vatican City which was, again, astounding at every turn. As we found with a few of the more popular tourist spots however, it was extremely busy. We booked the visit in for Monday thinking the crowds would be less, but I dread to think what it would have been like on Saturday or Sunday!! The museums were filled with fascinating artefacts, and paintings and sculptures by artists like Di Vinci and, of course, Michelangelo. There was also a really amazing modern sculpture in one of the courtyards which consisted of cogs and wheels inside a huge metal ball. We had seen it moving through a window earlier, but when it wasn’t moving when we arrived at it, Mum and I decided to make a dash for it over the barriers and push it ourselves - it worked!

While it was, of course, a wonderful site to behold, it really was a shame that it was so busy in the Sistine Chapel. We were funnelled into smaller and smaller corridors, so that by the time you eventually arrived at the chapel you weren’t too upset about walking through and then straight out the other side! Mum put it well when she said it was the perfect example of when we “pave paradise and put up a parking lot”.

St Pauls was a welcome relief as there is ample space in there for all the tourists - it’s huge! My favourite bit was a small orange stain glass window in which sat a dove, right at the end of the church.

Aside from walking, our other main activity was consumption. And Italians know how to consume! We enjoyed picking from 150 flavours of ice cream at Della Palma, drinking ample quantities of prosecco and coffee and eating exquisite pasta and pizza! We really loved having an afternoon tipple down by the river on the barges we recognised so well from Roman Holiday, though I was disappointed not to smash a guitar over anyone’s head to really complete the experience. We scouted a few other spots from the film too, including the coliseum (dodging salesmen and beggars with varying levels of success), the Spanish Steps (thankfully we only had to walk down them!) and the mouth of truth which we gladly took a picture of through the barriers, rather than facing another long queue…

As always, and most importantly, we had so much fun in each other’s company; it’s always good to spend time with these lovely ladies. Every day was filled with plenty of silliness and giggling; from Chucklebrother tribute songs to prosecco security risks in the airport, the weirdness was unbounded, just how we like it.

Now, where to next girls?