#not especially articulate but it's more of a walking puppet than anything

[sparrowlucero]

heron puppet wip 3

[justauthoring]

Hard To Put Into Words (NRT Bonus Scene)

Request(s): Hi! I'm not sure if you're taking requests for NRT bonus scene -if you're not feel free to ignore this😂- but maybe you could write one with Theo, and how he helped her and she actually opened up to him, or something from his point of view and his true feelings. I love how interesting you made their relationship and I just can't help but want more; also I really love Theo as a character so yeah. Anyway, love your writing.💖

Perhaps a NRT bonus scene showing/explaining the times Theo and (Y/n) spent together? How Theo was able to earn her trust and how she (as mentioned in the story) fell for him? Even just a little?

Hello, I really love nrt and I have a request for a bonus scene from theo's point of view from the moments that he manipulated y/n and when he realized that he actually cares about her I just really love them lol

Requested by: @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive​

A/N: This is just a little thank you for you all be so patient with me on taking a break on NRT. I don’t know if anyone else has every requested this, I just know that since season five ended i’ve gotten a lot of asks revolving this sort of storyline/POV! I’m rewatching Teen Wolf with my mom now and I just know that NRT will be finished soon -- but for now, thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy this bonus scene!

It had been so perfectly and articulately planned out from the beginning.

Your entire pack was entirely in his hands; you were all like puppets to him and Theo found you and the rest all too easily manipulated. 

You were the easiest. While it had been years since he’d seen you, Scott or Stiles; the one thing Theo remembered about you was just how kind you were. You didn’t judge anyone you didn’t know. You gave everyone a chance. Theo very carefully remembered the way you had chased around your brother and Stiles when you were younger, when you followed them around aimlessly and they took every opportunity to impress you. Make you laugh. Make you smile.

The most important thing for Theo was to separate you from the two of them.

And with your sudden incline of power, Scott and Stiles made it all too easy for him.

Having knowledge about witches also helped. He knew that that kind of information was hard to come by, that witches were a long ago forgotten race of supernatural. He knew that you, yourself, barely knew anything. And while it was important to gain your trust and have you realized that he was the one you should be placing all your loyalty to, not Stiles or your brother who barely paid any mind to your true powers, it was also important that you were the strongest you could be. Theo wanted you at your strongest, because he knew you were his strongest member.

Soon-to-be-member.

But then you had looked so afraid. You’d crawled away from him in a fit of panic and terror, falling to your knees with a hard thud on the concrete beneath you. Theo finds himself oddly actually panicked, actually worried, and the way he rushes out of his truck is not an act to gain your trust. You had... You had looked so afraid. 

He pulls you into him, cupping your cheeks, trying to get your wild and terrified eyes to focus on his own familiar ones. It takes coaxing, but eventually you listen to him, head to his warnings, and you’re starting to breathe, and your heart is starting to slow. 

It’s then the way you look at him. Your eyes meet his own, chest rising and falling, breathless, but still managing to look so utterly amazed and... grateful. And no one has ever looked at him like that before.

Not in a long while.

“How... How’d you do that?”

And Theo, unsettled and confused by the emotions swirling deep inside of his chest, just shakes his head; “I just told you’d to breathe. You just needed a little push.”

But then you take his hand in your own and squeeze it so tightly it actually hurts, and Theo doesn’t even mind. He just likes the feeling of having you so close, of being able to hold you in his arms. 

And when your lip juts out, whimpering, and your voice comes out all raw...

“I’m losing control of my powers... and I don’t know what to do.”

Theo means it when he whispers; “I can help. You just have to trust me.”

And then, you defend him in front of your friends. In front of Stiles and Scott, Scott, without an ounce of hesitation. Like the words you speak are nothing but the truth.

Theo has never had anyone stand up for him like that.

When you call him, he swears his heart soars in happiness. Momentarily, and just for a moment, he forgets about his plan, forgets about all he needs to do, and basks in the happiness that you’re trusting him. That you’re going to him for help and not your brother or not Stiles. Him.

You’re like putty in his hands. Theo realizes you’re just the same you’d been when you were younger. You’re too trusting, you give everyone the benefit of the doubt, despite the words Theo is sure Stiles is spouting your way. You still meet him, you still ask him for help. You listen to every single word he says with utmost interested, taking in every word he says carefully and with focus. He knows Scott and Stiles don’t know; that this is secret.

But he finds he doesn’t all much care. If they know or don’t, he can have you more to himself if they don’t.

He sticks close, leans close, touches every bit of you he can. It’s not just to gain your trust anymore, it’s to satisfy the hunger inside of him that craves for you, wants you, completely and wholly all to himself. Theo finds himself resenting Scott even more when he interrupts the moment, where the two of are inches away, your hands are in his own, and you’re hanging onto everyone of his words like there’s nothing else in the entire world.

He resents the interruption even more when he can’t come with you.

Theo finds it a silent victory when you react to his touch like you do. He likes seeing the small blush that flutters onto your cheeks when he gets too close or touches you, happy that he has that kind of effect over you. He doesn’t even much care about the glares Stiles sends his ways, the heavy gaze on his back as he walks into Scott’s house to help with the reading.

It was worth it just for you. The touch of you. The presence of you.

When he hears you scream those words, that cry of “please! Daddy!” Theo realizes maybe you’re just as broken as him. Maybe, you’d understand him better than anyone else. Because it was the way you’d cried out, it was the cracking in your voice, it was fear in your voice that tells Theo there’s something more to it.

He’s the one that coaxes you out of whatever revere you’d been. Whatever nightmare that had come alive before you.

You hold onto him tightly, as if never wanting to let go. Theo relishes in it, even as he reluctantly brings you to Scott. Having you hold onto him like that proves to him he done exactly what he needed, get you to trust him. Theo was just starting to lose sight on for what reason he wanted you to trust him in the first place.

He relishes in the feeling of you holding him, hugging him, praising him for finding Liam and Hayden even though he’d known where they were the entire time. Not that you knew. Of course you didn’t know. You thought him some hero, someone who saved your friends who you obviously cared deeply for. Theo is reminded of the reason why he cares for you so much, your heart. The way you put every bit of your being into caring for others.

No one has ever done that for him.

He knows his plan is working when he manages to calm you down and not Stiles. When you defend him from Stiles, your own boyfriend. The moment had been awkward, Theo wasn’t clueless to that, but he also felt a small bit of victory well deep within him as you trust him over Stiles. Take his side over Stiles’. 

It was working. He was gaining your trust. But truthfully, Theo wasn’t even doing it just for the sake of his pack and plan anymore.

Not now.

But... But then...

It goes wrong. It feels like a slap to the face when you neglect everything he tells you, words your brother had taken in so easily. Believed so easily. You actually don’t believe him about Stiles and Donovan, and that Theo hadn’t been expecting; certainly not from you. He thought... He thought you’d felt the same.

His heart wrenches painfully and uncomfortably, not used to the sensation, as you choose Stiles over him.

Even when you’re angry, even when you fight violently against him, Theo still finds himself drawn towards you. Even though you’d betrayed him and chose Stiles...  He had you now, that’s what mattered the most. His plan had had to happen quicker, not everything had happened the way he wanted (mainly, you) but, it was working.

He can see your focus fading, watching as your eyes lull as he carries you easily over to his truck. 

But Theo just has to say it, before then, to make you understand... that you know... 

“I just need you to know Y/N, that I truly did come back for you. You maybe more than anyone else.”

And he doesn’t articulate it the way wants to. Doesn’t phrase it quite in the right way. But, he knows you hear him and Theo hopes you understand that he means what he’s said. That he truly does care for you. You more than anyone else. And you were the only person that ever made him doubt anything, especially his plan.

You’re the only one.

But, at the end of the day, the most important thing to him was that he had you.

-

Let me know what you thought?

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[francoiserenaldt]

good things come to those who wait...

summary: there’s a boy and she doesn’t quite know what to do… (alternatively: melisande devereaux has really done it this time)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

note: would it be a fic written by me if the moon didn’t make some kind of appearance? probably not. takes place after a few weeks at vancross.

Vancross is silent when she sneaks out of her dorm. 

Melisande took extra precautions to make sure that Tatum would be firmly in REM sleep—measuring his sleep patterns without looking like a stalker was easily the hardest thing Melisande had ever done and she once climbed a tree in heels for a photo op—and Murphy was a nonissue as long as Dionne was none the wiser. 

The one thing she hadn’t accounted for was guilt. The possibility of Tatum being punished for her actions had only occurred to her in this and it made her stomach ache, but she swallowed it and continued to walk. She had already made it this far.

This whole situation was his fault, anyway.

She eventually finds herself in the gardens. The sole light hanging from the top of the gazebo blinks to life at her arrival—she couldn’t even avoid the limelight in the wee hours of the morning, apparently—and she sits under the light and takes a breath. 

The speech she wrote sits in her back pocket. It’s awful even by her standards, but it’s the product of rushed scribbles in between classes and right before she went to sleep. She’s loath to imagine what would happen if any one of the numerous people surrounding her found out about this, but her mind wanders anyway. 

Blaine would, no doubt, tear it apart with a smirk, giddy with the realization that she knew Melisande was nothing but a sheltered puppet for her mother all along—Blaine wouldn’t say it that way, of course; despite a rivalry that spans over centuries and defies common sense, she’s oddly insistent on getting into Melisande’s pants.

Ayna would be concerned but supportive; the historian in her probably reckons that it would make killer supporting evidence in a collegiate thesis. Dionne probably would find it odd; parents controlling every aspect of their children’s lives was normal and resentment only hurt you in the end.

(Maybe she’d have a point.)

And Tatum...if Tatum got a hold of this, she would probably cease to exist on the spot.

Regardless, it doesn’t matter what everyone else would say if they saw it because they never will. Her reputation, her life even, depends on it.

She chuckles at that; it’s the most authentic speech she’ll ever write, but there can be no audience to receive it. She can only laugh to stop from crying.

The moon at Vancross is stunning this time of year, cool and quiet and drawing an odd feeling—too warm to be sadness, but far too cold to be wistful—from her. The scene was perfect, but it didn’t change the inevitable: Tatum would kill her if he knew she was out here.  

She almost wants him to; anything is better than this torturous dance they’ve been doing since he appeared in her dorm room. Everything about him was “job description this, job description that” until she could get him alone; even then, he would only drop the act for a few minutes before it was back to wishing he had never been assigned to her.

(Her heart only broke a little bit when he said things like that, of course. She’s an adult.)

(If only she actually felt like one.)

She stands and quietly clears her throat. If her calculations are good, she only has 20 minutes until someone notices that she’s gone. 

“I’m alone for the first time in a long time, so maybe I can finally put this weird feeling into words.” Melisande begins, just barely resisting the urge to fall into public speech mode. “I’m completely and utterly unsure of what I’m supposed to do with my life. Everyone has their own ideas about what I should be doing here. Mom wants me to come here and make the country proud by earning all of my marks, Dionne wants me to date, and Blaine...ugh, I shouldn’t even be speaking to her right now. I’m a grown woman and yet I’m letting everyone else tell me what’s good for me. The only person who’s fully respecting my decisions right now is...Tatum.”

She cuts herself off with a groan, crumpling the paper in her hands. “Fucking Tatum. I’m midway through articulating my quarter-life crisis and all I can think about is him.” She slumps down onto the bench, burying her face in her hands. “And I’m not even thinking about him, not really. The Tatum that wanted anything to do with me died overseas. The real Tatum is sleeping in his bed, probably dreaming about being literally anywhere else.”

A street light flickers on several meters away. A group of her peers chortles on their way to their dorms, no doubt drunk from some house party. She sighs, lifting her head.

“What did I expect, anyway? ‘Lisa and Tate against the world, like when we were kids?’ I barely want to be here and I’m actually getting something out of this.” She scoffs, sniffling. “God, I’m an idiot.” 

The wind picks up then, pulling her waist-length braids to the side. The night is still quiet and there’s no sign of life anywhere near, but she’s never felt more exposed. “I don’t even know him anymore. And he doesn’t want to know me. He’s just doing his job. It shouldn’t hurt this much to see him again.” She purses her lips as the heat behind her eyes swells once again, but she blinks it back. There’s still too much to say before she has to go back to bed. 

“But I have a job to do here, too. My mother is counting on me. Winston is counting on me. All of Rutherland is counting on me, so I won’t give up on them. I can’t. It’s out of the question.” She shakes her head violently. “But I won’t give up on him either. Not when I’m getting a little bit closer to seeing the real Tatum, my Tatum, in my life again. I can’t afford to screw this up. I can’t lose him again.”

Melisande tilts her head back and stares directly at the moon, letting the light reflect the pool of unshed tears in her deep brown eyes before she shuts them completely and lets the tears fall. “What the hell am I going to do?”

Off in the distance, a bell tower rings and the long hand of the clock beneath it settles on 4. She’d been out for far too long. It was only a matter of time before-

“Melisande.” 

(Shit.)

“Lecture me in the morning, please. I’m exhausted,” she sobbed.

She hears him clear his throat, probably out of awkwardness, before he speaks. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be out by yourself right now?”

“I think I could have handled myself against the flora and fauna, Tatum.” Melisande snaps, wiping furiously at the tears running down her cheeks. “Besides, late-night escorts aren’t in your job description.”

“It’s literally a part of my job description that I need to be near you or aware of your location at all times, especially for ‘late-night escorts.’” Tatum pinches the bridge of his nose. “What were you doing up this late anyway?”

“Writing a sonnet.” 

“This is not the time for you to joke around.”

“So it’s only okay to switch up when you do it. Got it.” She huffs, brushing past him and speed walking in the other direction. “I’m tired. Let’s go back.”

He’s quicker, grabbing her arm and turning her around to face him. He takes her face into his hands, the fury (concern?) in his already intense eyes setting her ablaze. “You can never do anything like this again. Am I clear?”

“Tatum, you made yourself perfectly clear when you told me that you never wanted to be back around me the first time.” Melisande scoffs, meeting his glower with one of her own. “I’m the last person that's going to endanger your cushy government job, alright? Can we be done here?”

“We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“Good. Now let go.”

The morning after is rough, to say the least. There isn’t enough caffeine in the world to make Melisande a functioning human being on 3 hours of sleep or enough outfit changes in her closet to wait Tatum out. 

He’s not good at waiting—never has been—and he paces outside her door, as if he’s ticking down the seconds until she has to stop hiding. She can’t help but scoff; his method is questionable but the message is clear: I’m not letting you off the hook this time.

She eventually settles on a light blue blazer set and rushes out of her bedroom, making a beeline for the kitchen. Naturally, a toned arm blocks her way. “I need to get to class.”

“You’re not getting out of this.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but fine. We can talk now.” She drawled, ducking under his arm and turning on the coffee maker.  “You wanted to know why I left last night.” 

“As your bodyguard, I think you owe me that.”

“I needed time to think.”

“Don’t you have a room for that?”

“I wanted to be alone,” Melisande replied nonchalantly, only managing to resist the urge to shrug when she sees his nostrils flare. “It’s hard to do that when you have a shadow.”

“What are you doing?”

“Talking to you,” she allows the shrug this time, turning her head to meet his eyes as she pours her coffee. “Should I be doing something else?”

“Let me rephrase that: why are you acting out?”

Acting out? 

If Melisande was acting out, she’d have made herself a staple of the numerous house parties happening at Vancross. If she was acting out, she’d find Blaine Hayes and give her mother a scandal worth calling about. If she was acting out, she would have never agreed to come to the Vancross Institute to begin with. 

She didn’t deserve this.

“You can’t be serious. I leave the dorm once to clear my head and you’re treating me like a child.”

“Melisande—”

“This conversation is over.” 

“Like hell it is.” Tatum snaps. “In case you haven’t gotten the memo yet, you’re the daughter of a world leader, which means that you can’t leave in the middle of the night to clear your head on a whim without telling me. If there was even a one percent chance that someone who wanted to hurt you came here and I didn’t know where you were, I…” He pauses, then takes a breath. “I can’t do my job. It’s—”

“—your job to protect me. I know that.” 

“Then don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”

The earnest look in his eyes—definitely concern now—is enough to make her drop the act. “Alright. I’m sorry.”

He grunts, blinking the moment away, and she curses herself for the disappointment that courses through her veins. “Don’t be sorry, be careful.” 

“It’s too late for that.” Melisande shakes her head, too frustrated to cry and too tired to argue. “Far too late.”

It’s clear that he doesn’t understand what she means and she decides, then and there, that he would never know. The fates had aligned and made his position clear: she was an assignment to him. He could never know that she wanted more.

(It was far too late. For both of them.)

[fnniganthomas]

                  ❝ in my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of                      words. but when I open my mouth, everything collapses. ❞

{ cis man, he/him } ❝ icarus is forever deemed the boy who flew too close to the sun and got burned. to me, he is just a boy too enthralled by beauty to care whether or not it could hurt him. ❞ huh, who’s TAYLOR ZAKHAR PEREZ? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually LEANDER FINNIGAN-THOMAS. he is a 23 year old HALF-BLOOD wizard who is a TATTOO ARTIST. he is known for being RETICENT, SELF-CONSCIOUS, STUBBORN, INARTICULATE, and PERSUADABLE but also TRUSTING, SYMPATHETIC, EARNEST, PERCEPTIVE, and QUICK-THINKING, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song EPITAPH BY HIPPO CAMPUS and THE SMELL OF HOMEMADE BROWNIES BAKING; TECHNICOLOR PAINT STAINS ON EVERYTHING YOU OWN; A SKY GONE GREEN WITH PROMISED RAIN; WORN FLANNELS YOU’RE HAPPY TO LET OTHERS BORROW; A LUMP IN YOUR THROAT FROM THE WORDS YOU SWALLOW. i hear he is aligned with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX, so be sure to keep an eye on him. { zoe, 22, cst, she/her }  [ leander is adopted. ]

ADDITIONAL MATERIALS:   leander’s playlist, stats page, & pinterest board    CHARACTER PARALLELS:   jason mendoza (the good place), chidi anagonye (the good place), ty lee (atla), finn (star wars), troy barnes (community), brittany pierce (glee), ponyboy curtis (the outsiders), aang (atla) 

one.

there was no real doubt in anyone’s mind that leander was his fathers’ son. even the two of them had no trouble seeing bits of the other in him. 

dean could be heard calling leander seamus’ son when he ran into the side table holding lit candles and set several wooden picture frames ablaze. seamus returned the favor and referred to leander as dean’s son when he walked into leander’s room and saw he’d upended several jars of paint on the floor. to this day, none of them could really say if he’d upended the jars on purpose or not.

leander liked to think it was on purpose, even as he proclaimed his innocence every time the family told the story over laughter-filled dinners. proclaiming his innocence was just part of the way that story got told and he couldn’t go breaking tradition. really, he liked the way the rainbow of colors was still burrowed into the grooves of the wood and the slats between floorboards, even after countless attempts at cleaning the last of it. a part of him wondered if that hadn’t been an early sign of magic; he knew that that paint washed easily out of his hair and off his closes, but it stuck stubbornly to the floor right where he liked it. 

the colors on the floor nearly matched the technicolor quilt that lay on top of his bed year-round. he liked when things matched like that, almost by accident; like the world liked when things looked pretty as much as he did. he kinda hoped that was one of his first bits of magic; it felt fitting. he said as much to his gran once and had his hair ruffled for his trouble.

two.

when he was a child, he was always elbow deep in some messy thing. it wasn’t that he had a knack for causing trouble  —  he just had such a hard time saying no to trouble when it came calling. he had a hard time saying no to anything that came calling.

that was probably why trouble was always calling him. it knew he was an easy mark.

he made friends easily as a child, when things were easier and no one seemed to mind or care that he had such a hard time finding the words for things. leander was too polite to voice the blame out loud, but he was convinced that his friends growing up were at least half behind all the messes he got into.

the other kids around him might’ve been better at causing messes, but leander made up for it by being a mess. he was always having a crisis as a kid  —  his stuffed dragons were just ravaging the block city, dad, but what about the finger puppet people formerly houses in that block tower? do they even sell dinosaur insurance?? why didn’t I think of the implications here …

he and his sister played knights a lot, with toy swords and helmets modeled after the suits of armor in hogwarts  (dean asked seamus if that wasn’t a little much, when they bought them; they were a few years out from school, after all, they didn’t care that the helmets were accurate  — )   and leander always wondered about the ramifications of two knights fighting each other. shouldn’t they be friends, he thought? she always took his ensuing rambling full of hypothetical knight-schisms as opportunity to knock him flat backwards.

he was a needy kid  —  he always had questions at his lips, a thousand things he wanted to say. it took him forever to find the way to say them, though; leander hated feeling any negative thing, but he was used to frustration turned inward. it was his least favorite feeling, and one he was all too accustomed to. even now, leander was never quite sure what to do with his words. his mind was an easy enough place for him to navigate, and he loved being there for others when they needed someone to listen.

but whenever he tried talking himself wires got crossed and nothing came out how he wanted it to.

three.

he’d always been more quiet than he’d have liked to be, because he did actually have a lot to say. by the time he was nearly hogwarts-aged, he’d mostly forced himself to get over his hang-ups around his family. they poked good-natured fun at him, but he knew they’d always give him as much time as he needed to phrase a sentence or find a word. he could be assured that some of the other kids he’d grown up around would know that he just took a while to say what he really meant, too.

it was the thought of the castle, so full of strangers and professors he didn’t know, that scared him. getting sorted into ravenclaw scared him even more. he knew he didn’t always sound smart, and it worried him that others would listen to him and decide that he wasn’t, actually, smart enough to be a ravenclaw. he knew that he was smart, that he had things of value to offer to conversations. he was just so bad at getting them out the way he wanted to.

he stayed quiet for a while, even knowing he didn’t actually want to be quiet.

whenever he tried to articulate that point to other people though, it tended not to go as well as it did in his head  —  only proving his point. one of the prefects his first year rolled her eyes, said, ‘if you want to be less quiet, just say more, leander.’ but it wasn’t that easy, for him. he had a lot to say but had trouble finding the words for all those things. he could usually carry polite conversation just fine; fool people into thinking he knew what he was doing. but anything more than that required his total focus, and still was rarely quite right.

he bit down on half-formed questions because he thought it was better to not know some things if it meant he didn’t have to see people grow annoyed at his fumbling words. then that made him feel even more like he was some sort of fraud-ravenclaw  —  what ravenclaw thought they were better off not knowing things?

just like he forced himself to get over his worries to talk to his family and old friends, he forced himself to accept that words were never going to be his specialty. then he forced himself to be fine with that. he worked hard to focus on the things he was good at, that didn’t require him to talk too much  —  he always felt at home in the air on his broom, or with a sketchbook in his lap, or in the kitchen whipping up something that’d make other people happy. those things weren’t nothing. 

four. 

leander was smart, actually; he excelled in herbology and charms and worked hard enough everywhere else to not be singled out during class. he never caused as many explosions as his dad did from simple transfiguration. and he was great with people, for all that he got so in his head sometimes that he felt clumsy with even his dearest friends. but being smart never stopped anyone from being a fool. 

when leander looked back on his childhood, it was as if all of his roiling anxieties melted away. it was like looking in on a world encased in the sun  —  he imagined his memories as some sort of weird, reverse snow globe, where everything shimmered at the edges and only got brighter as you shook it up. 

hindsight made even mundane or negative memories seem golden, to leander. his biggest fault was that he always liked to think things were kinder than they actually were.

leander trusted people to be better than they were  and was bad at saying what he meant, which was, at times an awful combination for him. he trusted the world to treat him better than it did. 

if someone ever tries to convince him that, no, really, that harsh person from a historically bigoted family is not a good person, his stubbornness really came out and saw leander dig his feet in. he never wanted to believe that people had to be truly black or white  —  he was stubbornly convinced that there was good in every person, even when he was told he shouldn’t try so hard to look for it.

leander knew what was it like to feel you stood on the fringes of everybody else’s lives; no amount of forcing himself to be comfortable with the way he was ever took that anxiety away. he tried his hardest to be accommodating and friendly and understanding to everyone he came into contact with, even the people who maybe didn’t deserve his kindness. especially them, sometimes. he didn’t want anyone feeling like he was someone to be wary around. leander was steadfast in his beliefs and knew he wouldn’t change them, but all the same  —  that shouldn’t be a reason for someone to look at him and expect anything less than he gave everyone else.

four.

home never stopped being the most comforting place for leander. not even once he was older, a little more settled, and no longer had such stress over belonging in ravenclaw tower. not even once he had plenty of friends, a spot on the quidditch roster, a place in the castle. he adored not feeling so lost at school the older he got, but it couldn’t compete with home. 

the golden gleam of his memories made everything feel well-worn and well-loved in his head, but home was the biggest victim, and the most deserving of such treatment. leander was stubbornly adamant that there was no better place in the world than the finnigan-thomas’ home in kenmare. holidays at home with his family, extended and sprawling and filled with family friends as much as blood relatives, were leander’s favorite thing. 

he loved his dads so much  —  even as he couldn’t help but wonder, privately, if they wouldn’t have preferred a son who wasn’t such a fuck up sometimes. he’d certainly caused several dinner parties to grind to a halt with a poorly-phrased question directed at the aunt he forgot he wasn’t supposed to sit next to, after the incident over christmas dinner when he was ten. 

leander wondered if his dads wouldn’t want a son who was better at words, because leander always thought there were ways for him to be better. he wondered, privately, because he couldn’t help but worry. but the logical part of his brain knew that there wasn’t a need to worry over them. they loved him, he knew, and didn’t even need his memory to gloss everything over for that to be true.  

five. 

there was always a level of creativity in the house growing up, and leander took to it like a fish to water. he never really let up on his fascination with color and the physicality of paint clinging to his skin and the paintbrush and whatever canvas was in front of him. the permanently-painted floorboards in his room weren’t the only casualty in the house, but that was alright. no one ever gave leander too much grief over tracking paint everywhere.

it was easier for him to take a pencil to page than to find the words, sometimes, and he was so happy his family understood that about him, and let it grow. 

leander couldn’t keep track of how many drawings his dads pinned up to the fridge when he was a kid, or how excited dean had been to lead leander around museums growing up. he cherished every minute seamus spent nodding along as leander rambled about some era in art history seamus knew nothing about. it didn’t matter that leander grew into being comfortable at hogwarts, and around strangers, and people who weren’t so understanding with his fumbled words; it was work, with all of them, even as the work got easier on him. 

nothing about being near his family and feeling that love felt like work. 

leander, even grown out a childhood-self that worried over the ethics of stuffed dragons knocking over block towers, couldn’t help but be dragged down the whirlpool of hypothetical thoughts. he wondered if there was some alternate-universe leander who wasn’t as lucky as he was, who didn’t have his dads and his sister and his friends. maybe there was a leander who had those things but still lived in a world that was altogether harsher than his was. he thanked the universe as often as he remembered to that he was who he was, and that he was where he was. 

leander was bowled over by stress and anxiety and worries more often than he existed in a state of honest chill, but he was still so happy to have the life he did. he didn’t always feel like he deserved it, but he was glad it was his. 

six. 

when leander was sixteen, he dicked around enough on the internet to teach himself how to give magical tattoos and muggle tattoos both. he really thought that it shouldn’t have been so easy to order all the necessary equipment and have it delivered to his house; he really, really thought that the owl that came bearing his enchanted ink should’ve asked for, like, ID or something. it felt like getting away with something, how easy it was. 

leander was well-versed in courting trouble at this point and knew he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. he just thought it was important to note that he worried at it being so easy for people without training to get all that stuff. 

he practiced on himself and his sister, with a little needling and an iron-clad pinkie swear that they’d keep the tattoos a secret from their dads. in hindsight, it was a very stupid decision on leander’s part to start practicing in the summer, when they went to the beach often enough that the two finnigan-thomas kids had to order some fancy witch-owned brand of waterproof concealer to cover the evidence. their dads didn’t notice the tattoos until they came home that winter break and forgot to start hiding them again, though, so leander would take the win. 

he offered tattoos to people at school, and really hoped that some of them also forgot to hide them when they went home for winter hols. it felt only fitting that his not-thought-out plan brought some other people a bit of trouble. he’d call it payback for all that time in their childhoods when he’d been the one getting dragged into problems, but the thought of payback as a concept made leander a little sad, so, whatever. 

seven. 

it felt only fitting that he looked into doing tattoos as a professional once he was out of hogwarts. dean certainly insinuated, when leander mused over the option, that it would make the shock he’d given his dads over the tattoos worth it. leander kind of agreed; he didn’t think the tattoos weren’t worth it, already, but there could be layers to worth. on principle, he loved the idea of practice. he liked to think that everything in life was practice for something to come  —  that nothing happened to you that couldn’t have a use later down the line. 

it had a nice symmetry to it, a circular-ness. it was the sort of lofty thought he’d have an absolute monster of a time voicing out loud, but he felt it, and sometimes that was enough for leander. it was like the paint worn into his floorboards that matched the quilt on his bed; unintentional but fitting anyway. 

leander wondered if maybe he shouldn’t look into going to muggle university to study art, or at least take an apprenticeship under a wizarding artist so he could learn how to paint portraits and landscapes that could move and all. there was still a career in that, people looking to have themselves or their relatives or their homes immortalized in oils even as moving photographs were so much easier these days. 

he was  —  definitely, he was interested in learning that sort of thing. it just felt like too big a goal to have for his life right after school was over. he hadn’t been suspended in a state of constant stress during his time at hogwarts, or anything, but h still felt a strong sort of relief when it was over. 

there were things he’d miss; how easy it was, having so many of his friends all living in the same place, all doing the same things and living such parallel lives. he’d miss quidditch practice now that he knew he’d never make it as a professional  —  and never want to, besides. he’d miss the community of it all, even as he recalled how hard it had been for him to settle into it. he knew that it would only take a year or two, maybe less than that, for him to start romanticizing his time there like nothing had ever hurt in the castle’s walls. 

but the sigh of relief, that was bigger than anything he missed, and it made him sure he wanted to take a step back from school and any formal training or education. he already knew enough about tattooing now that he felt assured it wouldn’t feel so much like starting over to make a job of it.

eight. 

leander was always far better at thinking on his feet than most people would guess from knowing him. it sometimes surprised leander himself, even  —  he knew he had a propensity towards worry, and it seemed like maybe he shouldn’t actually be good in an emergency. maybe it was just that he had an overactive fight or flight instinct that he’d long trained over the years to fight through whatever it could. he might not be the person people in his life wanted around when they were going through a crisis, but he knew how to handle himself in all manner of unexpected situations. leander liked to think he rarely made things worse. 

does he make good choices whilst thinking on his feet? not all the time. but then, who could be relied on to make the perfect decision during every high stress situation they found themselves tossed into? leander made choices, and knew better than to stand idle; leander was of the belief that second guessing things had no value, even as he couldn’t help himself sometimes. he tried his best to face every consequence of every action head on. 

he dug his feet in over stupid, foolish decisions often enough. it was fitting that sometimes when he dug his feet in, it was for a purpose. the best way out is through, and all that  —  maybe he’d get that adage tattooed on him someday, too. 

sometimes it still felt like things happened to him, like he was a less active participant in his life than others were in theirs. he’d always pick fight over flight but not every situation asked that choice of him. it was less because he had a genuine go-with-the-flow personality, and more that he had such a hard time saying no.  

nine. 

when the world around him started turning itself upside down with awfulness and inside out with tragedy, leander knew it wouldn’t do him any good to freeze now. he joined up with the order because he knew there really wasn’t any other option he could take and still look at himself in the mirror. he wasn’t an auror or a healer or anyone that he thought had, like, much of value to offer the cause. but he was asked, and he said yes, because leander always, always said yes when trouble came calling for him. it was instinctive at this point.

leander liked to think he didn’t hate a lot of things. his heart was too open, to full of potential love, for him to like feeling anything harsher than annoyance, frustration. he forced bursts of hurt to come and go in a count of ten, because dwelling on the negative made him feel hollowed out. 

but he stopped laying in bed at night so often, thanking his lucky stars that he was leander in this world over any others; he started, instead, wondering if any generation in this world of theirs would get to be untouched by even the threat of war. he wondered if it was too naive to wish this darkness would fade as quickly as it did when his dads were kids. 

he turned things over in his memory now that some of the worst had come to pass; normally he let everything be painted in shades of gold, but he wondered if that wasn’t part of the problem. maybe too many people had worked too hard to push prison breaks and strange disappearances to the side  —  maybe too many people had had wanted to remember things only as happy and bright. it was such an ingrained part of himself now that leander knew he’d never be able to stop thinking things were better than they were. 

maybe it would be the end of him one day. but at least he’d be himself, at the end. 

[mwolf0epsilon]

Sammy’s and Normans first kiss?

I don't usually poke at these sorts of themes, but fair warning: This is slightly NSFW due to a few "wandering hands" on Sammy's part.

Summary: If there's anything that Norman regrets, it's his and Sammy's disaster of a first kiss...

---

     Susie's and Sammy's messy breakup over the replacement of Alice Angel's voice actress role had taken an even bigger toll on the studio than anyone could have ever imagined. Morale had already been low with the steady increase of workload, and the stress of overclocking to chug through the narrowing time frames between deadlines. So having both Sammy Lawrence and Susie Campbell, two of the most outspoken and loud folk in the studio, in such low spirits really had an impact on the other employees.

Sammy took it out on people, his fragility making his temperament unstable to the point lashing out felt like an easier way to cope than to deal with his emotional turmoils head on.

Susie resorted to pettier methods. Decreasing morale with rumors and cruel gossip, and overall making any voice over roles she got (the very same low grade background characters she'd begun with) a nuisance to get done if just to make Sammy's life more difficult. This in turn, fed the perpetual cycle of anger and frustration that permeated the recording booth.

Susie was gaslighting Sammy, and Sammy was verbally assaulting people in retaliation. All of this generated by Joey Drew "accidentally" sending everyone but the intended employee a memo detailing sensitive information regarding their work.

Truly, Norman was at his wits end from pure exasperation over Drew's tactics to keep the studio under his iron grasp. He knew the sort of dangerous game that devil of a man was playing, and he hated how easily everyone fell into place.

Above all, he hated what Joey was slowly shaping both Sammy and Susie into.

     Back in Louisiana Norman had a particular childhood bully who was the ringleader of the bigger meaner kids in town. He was a scrawny meek looking boy with a devious spark in his eye. A thinker instead of a go-getter.

That boy had made Norman's life a living hell, up until his growth spurt came in (he'd been a late bloomer so that had been a good 15 years under that little hellion's tyrannical grasp). Once Norman became bigger than his bullies, that clever bastard had tried buttering up to him. Get him nice and friendly so he'd fall in line with the rest of the thugs.

Once Norman 'kindly refused', he'd instead tried to make him look bad to the rest of the neighborhood. Not too hard, considering he'd always been a bit of a sneak, but honestly he'd never much minded what others thought.

Norman was the weird kid with the crazy eye, and the lightest feet in town. He could sneak up on the feral cats that lived in the overgrown playground without getting heard, and he was the kid that knew sign language because one day his hearing was going to go because he was born with something inherently wrong with his ears. He was also the kid that woke up at 5AM sharp to run training drills with his old man and his siblings.

Nothing the little jerk could do or say had ever made much of an impact on his reputation. Then one day of course his little sister came in missing a braid and his little brother had a split lip. That day Norman beat the shit out of that hellspawn and got in trouble for standing up to his bully.

That's what Drew was doing. Pulling all sorts of cheap manipulative tactics that were slowly shaping the people he employed into being predisposed to doing whatever he felt like.

Be it light threats hidden in passive aggressive comments, invitations to lunches or dinners where he'd test his boundaries of control over certain situations like who paid the bill or what sort of seed of doubt he could implant in someone's brain, or even feed the fires of someone's ire by meddling with their relationships.

By doing this to Sammy, especially, Joey was destroying his reputation as a respectable musician. The blond music director may be unreasonably unsociable, but that did not affect the quality of his work in the least. If anything Sammy seemed to work better under a more private setting.

Now that he was the focus of scrutiny and that people were constantly intruding upon his given workspace however, things were blurring. Professional and personal life had mixed and Joey was purposefully poking a sleeping bear to maintain control over the only composer he knew he could effortlessly keep under his control.

If Sammy so much as tried to quit, the damage of his current behaviors would ensure he'd never be employed ever again, and then where would he go from there when he had bills and rent to pay, and another mouth to feed?

Susie too was at risk.

She'd taken the hit so badly that she was actively fighting her employer and superior by behaving in an almost childish way in protest over being personally wronged. By demeaning her own work she was risking one of Joey's infamous blacklistings from the working industry. Who'd hire a difficult broad that thought she ran the show?

No one, that's who. Not in this overly masculine society.

     20 years ahead of both in experience, Norman was well and truly concerned. Both of them weren't bad people. They were fine adults with their whole life ahead of them if they played their cards right and sorted their emotional bullshit before snakes like that devil Drew got them cornered like mice in a maze. They were also both very competent and passionate about their work (which honestly was very attractive to him).

Obviously they weren't getting it on their own, so he had to stir them towards the right path somehow. A little nudge.

If only things weren't so hard in this damn studio… Getting to Susie was complicated considering she was avoiding people. And Sammy? Well, Sammy had some concerning vices.

  "He's been drinking." Jack had taken Sammy under his wing a while back. Norman knew how much the lyricist cared for his coworker and friend, so the pain in his voice was palpable. "He's hardly himself anymore. He's resorting to racist comments and shouting matches because he can't come up with any real reason to put people down, and I caught Wally straight up crying in the bathroom the other day because Sammy made fun of his spots to the point he couldn't take it anymore."

  "Miss Campbell ain't doin' no better. Word is she pitched a mighty tantrum ta other day in ta booth." At least that's what he'd witnessed while doing his usual rounds. "Sammy threatened ta write her up so Joey would fire her."

  "Don't remind me… I was conducting the band while Sammy helped Miss Pendle, and then Susie just barged in!" Jack ran a hand over his tired face, looking a decade older than he actually was. Just from how frustrated the situation left him. "I'm losing my best friend Norman… If this keeps up I won't be able to stand Sammy. Wally feels just about the same with Susie. They're hurting everyone around them and they don't care because they're so caught up on attacking each another…"

  "They is more stubborn than a mule in ta field. Ain't nothin' I could say that could fix what Drew's meddlin' has done, but I could sure try ta call them ta reason." He muses. "I've had ta knock some sense into Sammy before. Could use the reminder..."

  "You're not gonna hit him are you? Norman you could get fired…" Jack looked concerned at this.

  "N'aw. Drew don't care, I roughed him up before and our 'kindly boss' didn't give a rat's ass 'bout his wellbeing." Norman stated. "Henry sure did give me an earful tho…"

  "Who…?"

  "An old friend… Anyhow, can't hurt ta go see Sammy 'bout his deplorable behavior. You know where he gone off to?" Norman dismissed the question with a smile.

Jack shrugged at him in reply.

  "You could try his office. Unless you know where he holes himself up, then he's probably there." The shorter of the two men fixed his bowtie and grabbed his hat from the hanger at the door. "Please go easy on him… It's not his fault."

  "Don't excuse him being a right pain to everyone else."

  "No, but you wouldn't blame a wounded dog to bite when cornered would you?"

  "That's what a muzzle is for."

Not that a muzzle would work on Sammy's sort of breed. He was not one to be silenced so easily in his pain.

Subdued… Maybe, if he had a couple of glasses of that yummy bravery juice and an ear to badger. He wasn't a wordsy man in the sense that he could elaborate what he felt. He was more the word vomit type that said what he felt in bursts. Not very articulate but definitely trying to show what was going on in that confused head of his.

Silencing Sammy was not worth the effort. It'd only make the situation worse. At best, Norman hoped to get him talking after knocking him about just a little.

It never occurred to him that he'd end up doing something else entirely.

     Jack hadn't been kidding. The kid had indeed been drinking, and god the smell of whiskey in his office was overpowering. It came off thicker than Sammy's cheap cologne, and it definitely reminded him of his Pepaw's bootlegging days. The sharp smell of alcohol and a man's bitter tears beneath the dense musk of despair.

Norman crinkled his nose in displeasure as he watched the wiry frame of the blond music director draped over his desk like some twisted puppet that had its strings cut off abruptly. A soft noise made him roll his good eye, wondering when Sammy had fallen so far from grace to the point he was openly snoring in his office like he didn't care about his reputation.

He walked closer, half ready to slap him awake when he realized the noises weren't snores. More like keening whimpers. Soft and throaty, just barely contained.

Then he really scrutinized what the kid was doing. Left arm cushioning his head, while the other was… Oh.

  "Fuckin' Christ Sammy…"

The other's flushed face turned to look at him with a jump, his hand still stuck in his pants, and his eyes just barely focusing.

The wretched smell of alcohol and sweat were already an indicative of his state of inebriation. The lack of shame in his actions, another indication.

But then it was the way he was staring up at him that really gave Norman a scope of just how shitfaced Sammy was.

  ".........S'dat you Norms…?" Speech slurred and bleary eyed. Drunk as an Irishman on Saint Patty's, or a German man on Oktoberfest. This was not a dignified way to find the ornery composer. If anything Norman felt wrong intruding on… Whatever this was. A pity wank?

  "I… should come back later." He was not dealing with this.

  "No!" Sammy reached out for him. "S'day. S'ged'ing lon'ly…"

The taller of the two froze and bit his lip in discomfort. He was not staying to watch Sammy jack off, there was no way in hell. He'd seen Piedmont enough times to warrant a restraining order if the man ever found out what he'd been up to while hiding in the walls. He wasn't going to perv on someone 20 years younger than himself. That was just wrong... As hypocritical as that may sound.

  "I really should let yous finish that…" he tried to back off, but the other clearly wasn't getting it. Counting bottles, Norman could guess why exactly that was. Just how much had Sammy drank?

  "Pl'ase. S'day… D'n't wonna… D'n't feel good all al'ne…" Sammy sniffled loudly. Still reaching out for him with his unoccupied hand. The other was still very much preoccupied down south, from what he could tell in the dark.

  "Sammy Lawrence I am not watchin' you pleasurin' yourself like some deviant! That ain't right!" Hypocrite, the little voice in the back of his mind hissed. You would.

  "Why no'd…? You cute…" Had he… had Sammy just called him cute? A man twice his age and well outside the whole petit brunettes sort he liked? "Big an' han'some… You cou'd brea' me… I'd let's you…"

This was… this was not what he imagined when he'd come to confront Sammy. That hungry, lustful look under the drunken stupor. The way he wasn't even trying to hide his pleasure as he unapologetically stroked himself while speaking to Norman.

An open invitation. It evoked something the older of the two men had been trying to bury for a while now. Desire. A desire that was certainly making his own trousers feel a tad constrictive.

But he couldn't. Not like this. Sammy wasn't in the right state of mind for this.

As if reading his mind, the blond stumbled forward. The projectionist backed up once more to avoid his grasp, but found his back colliding with the office door. Closing it and cornering himself in the process.

Sammy breached his personal space and put a hand to his chest. Norman tensed under his touch, watching transfixed as the composer felt up his pecks in clear adoration. Adoration. Sammy Lawrence was showing something other than annoyance towards him and it felt like he was watching the man being enlightened in some way.

  "So strong…" He felt himself swallowing around a thick lump in his throat as Sammy's purrs got to his groin rather quickly. "So han'some…"

Norman's good eye went back to the fiddling hand, just barely able to see what was happening beneath fabric. Then he felt Sammy's exploring touch lower until it rest between his legs.

  "So big…" The blond whispered seductively before he pressed their lips together in a bid to get what he wanted. Get what both wanted. The taste was both vile and tempting. So hard to push away... But Norman knew it was inherently wrong to exploit.

  "Ok that's enough a' this charade!" He grabbed hold of Sammy's shoulders and pushed him off, ignoring the painful ache between his legs that begged for the music director's hand to return. "Yous don't just go feelin' up a fella's package you damn twit! If I was one o' them homophobes I woulda beat yous black an' blue for this! Ya gotta be smart Sammy, or yous is gonna end up dead one o' these days!"

The blond stared up at him in confusion and mild shock, clearly unhappy about the rejection. He pulled his hand out of his trousers and just stared at him with that semi unfocused gaze that was slowly gaining a bit of clarity as time progressed.

  "... Did… I do bad…?" His confusion soon turned into frustrated anger "Why m'I never good 'nough?!"

  "Sammy what are ya hollerin' 'bout?"

  "M'I ugly? W'y s'everyone got'a leave?!" Sammy stalked back over and pushed Norman against the door, clearly ready to blow up out of anger. "M'I not good 'nough for you?!"

  "Sammy…"

  "J'ust wonna feel! Feel good!" The music director looked him in the eye, practically begging. "Wonna feel good! Pl'ease! Ju'sh wonna feel loved!"

  "Wouldn't be right… you're drunker than a skunk… ain't right kid. Please see reason…" He pleaded, honestly pleaded with the distraught man. 

To his credit, it sort of worked. Sammy cried out in anger and shoved him a few more times against the door for good measure, before collapsing into a crying heap. All Norman could really do was kneel down and try to comfort him.

  "J'us wonna m-matter…"

  "Damn it Sammy… You do matter." He held him closely, feeling bitter about the circumstances behind the gesture. "Yous don't gotta offer yourself up like this ta feel like you do…"

Rather than reply, Sammy sobbed and clung to him for dear life. Letting all the pent-up heartbreak out.

The games Drew played… they had an impact that Norman truly despised. Ones that lead people into the brink of desperation. Sammy was already a casualty of it, Susie not far behind.

That night Norman took it upon himself to take Sammy home, not trusting the kid to be able to go on his own. He practically carried him all the way, making sure to go through less frequented streets to conserve some of the dignity the music director had left.

Knocking on the door and having to explain to Sammy's sister that he was out of it was... Distressing. That girl may be a ray of sunshine, but the obvious disapproval behind Abigail's eyes was colder than ice.

They'd been at odds recently, the two siblings, because of just how badly things were spiraling.

Abigail wanted Sammy to leave the studio, find something else to do that didn't take such a toll on his mental health. Sammy refused, out of pride and fear for what Drew might do to sabotage him.

Norman found that this was another thing he couldn't exactly fix. Wherever that devil of a man looked, a strange taint followed. Even something as pure as a sibling bond, or a kiss.

And god, did Norman regret that damn kiss.

What a fucking mess.

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Evil New Year’s Resolution

Happy New Year Eve everyone!

~

One would think given how often Peach had been the target of various evil schemes in the past her castle would have better security. To be fair, those schemes had been from people who were alive but there were ways to keep the dead out and E. Gadd, the expert and inventor for many such ways, was an ally of hers so one would think she’d cover all her bases just in case. But whatever, King Boo wasn’t going to question his good fortune.

Finding Peach’s room took almost no time at all; it was extravagant as expected from a princess’ room and very pink. Not the only colour in the room but its presence far outweighed any other to the point of being borderline annoying. At least it was neat and tidy so King Boo wouldn’t have to wait around whilst surrounded by a mess. Waiting at all sucked but he couldn’t risk having his ploy discovered especially so early. So with a sigh, he settled down to wait in the corner.

He was in luck though; it wasn’t even quite half an hour before Peach came into the room. “Yes, good night to you too Toadsworth,” she was saying over her shoulder as she stepped in. There was a reply but it was inaudible from King Boo’s position in the far corner.

After closing the door, Peach turned and flounced further into the room, completely oblivious to King Boo’s presence for now. She went straight to her vanity dresser. Standing before it, she should be able to see his reflection in the mirror as he slid into position behind her. … She let out a gasp. Before she could scream or even start to turn around to face him, he pulled on his magic and the magic he’d stored in his crown to force his soul into her body.

 -

After a few brief moments of mostly nothing he was suddenly quite uncomfortable. The floor was too solid beneath him as gravity pushed him down onto it. Peach’s heart beat in her chest rhythmically as her lungs instinctively worked to pull in air and then expel. He could stop both processes if he wanted to and he kind of did because it was a rather unpleasant sensation after going so long without experiencing it that he’d forgotten it but inhabiting a rotting corpse would render his plan nigh on impossible so he’d just have to deal with it.

Peach was confused, she had no idea what happened; he could feel her emotions and thoughts brush against him, stronger now that he was paying attention to her. A spike of fear ran through her as he sat up and pulled her hands into to look at them as he flexed them. He’d forgotten what having hands was like too – not that he needed them when he could use magic for everything.

Hello princess. He thought at her with a chuckle.

She gasped again as her fear spiked higher immediately followed by righteous anger. ‘King Boo! What do you want? And… what’s happening?’

You’re my meat puppet now and you’re going to help me get some vengeance.

Oh, she was very frightened now and even if she wasn’t his true target it was still quite nice. ‘Mario will save me.’ Some of her fear melted away at her confidence in that statement. That just couldn’t do.

Yeah, sure because he’s done such a good job defeating me before.

‘Luigi then. He’ll beat you up like he always does you dumb giant marshmallow!’

King Boo growled; how dare she call him a marshmallow? Not this time because I have you. Meaning nothing could be done to him without hurting Peach which neither Mario or Luigi would do willingly.

‘Fuck you!’

King Boo ignored her this time. Instead, he stood up. It proved to be harder than it seemed; he had to contend with gravity and legs were far more unstable than just being able to float was. He took one step and… lost his precarious balance, landing on Peach’s face.

‘Ha! You can’t even walk, how pathetic.’

He growled both internally and externally. You can’t fly, that’s far more pathetic. Legs were an inferior way of getting around and he hated them already. But he needed to get used to using them again before the New Year’s Eve party tomorrow night. So, determined to ensure his plan would be perfect, he stood up again. All he needed was a little practice walking and all would be good.

New Year’s Eve

King Boo looked into the mirror, ensuring the hair dye hadn’t been bleached away by his magic yet and that the contacts were still in place. Neither was an exact match for Peach hair and eye colour but it was close enough that the dim lighting of the party should obscure it enough to make it hard to notice. Disguising his crown had proven to be far harder so instead he’d rendered it invisible.

‘Mario’s not going to be fooled by you,” Peach cut in, more angry now than afraid. ‘Neither will…’

He growled at her, drowning out the rest of that thought. It had only been a day and he was already sick and tired of her. He could block out her thoughts and emotions fairly well but whenever she wanted to say something to him it was a lot harder to not hear it.

But at least he looked the part of the princess, mostly anyway. Her one pair of non-heeled shoes didn’t match the fancy gown – which like her normal dresses was too pink for his tastes – but there was no way he was wearing heels of any height. They made the whole balancing thing even more of a chore. So, doing his best to ignore Peach and her angry nagging, he left her room and started for the main hall.

“Everything’s all set and ready to go,” Toadsworth said as she strode in. And truly everything was set and ready to go; snack and drink tables flanked the hall, balloons covered the ceiling, and the big clock with the ‘Happy New Year’ banner had been centered against the wall on one side of the room.

“Thank you,” he said with a forced smile, doing his best to imitate Peach’s speech pattern. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year to you too Princess!” he replied seemingly totally fooled. Which frustrated Peach while making King Boo quite proud. Now all he had to do was fool Mario and Luigi, how hard could that be?

 -

As predicted Mario and Luigi were among the first guests to arrive – Gooigi for some reason wasn’t with them, basically sealing King Boo’s victory here because they were the only one who might be able to detect him. They both wore dresses; Mario red and Luigi green. Which was a surprise, he’d never seen them dress that way before, but honestly a pleasant one; it would make them look better once in their portraits.

The look Mario gave him as they exchanged New Year’s greetings and well wishes made him want to gag. But he was a decent actor when he really tried and showed no outward sign of disgust. Nor did he react to Peach’s anger and frantic futile attempts to wrest control back from him.

All he had to do was keep that act up for a handful of hours until midnight. Purely for the drama of it, he was going to make his move at the exact start of the new year.

***

Something had seemed off the moment Luigi had stepped into the main hall of Peach’s castle. What it might be, he couldn’t say to save his life but something wasn’t right. He’d been sure it was his imagination as there wasn’t anything visually off but as midnight crept ever closer he was more and more convinced that that wasn’t the case. But what was it?

If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was ghosts but last he’d checked the castle wasn’t haunted. If only he had Gooigi or Polterpup with him to know for sure though, but Polterpup didn’t do well at parties, especially fancy ones such this, and Gooigi was helping E. Gadd with an experiment; when asked they’d said they preferred to miss the party to continue with that.

“Peach is acting a bit off,” Mario said when Luigi finally broke down and asked him if he sensed anything strange.

“What do you mean?” Luigi asked because he hadn’t noticed that. To be fair, he didn’t know Peach nearly as well as Mario and wasn’t spending as much time with her tonight.

“I don’t know just… not quite right. She seems excited though, I think. Which is probably good, right?”

Hmmm… maybe she was finally thinking of making a move on Mario. It’d be about time if so, the way they danced around their feelings for each other had been going on for quite a while now and thus they needed to just get it over with already and talk about it. But then again maybe it had something to do with whatever Luigi was feeling. What could the correlation be though?

“But uh… why are you asking?” Mario continued. “Is something bothering you?”

“Uh… yeah. I don’t know what though just… something’s not right.” And he hated that he couldn’t articulate what.

“Well, last time you felt this way it was at the Last Resort Hotel and we brushed it off and that ended up being a mistake. So maybe it’s ghosts again?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“Or maybe you’re just anxious about the new year?”

“Yeah, maybe. … Probably.” He’d certainly gotten that way about things before.

“Well if anything happens, I got your back. I’m going to go chat with Peach again, see if I can’t figure out what’s up with her. See you later.” He gave Luigi a slight tap on the shoulder with his fist before heading off.

***

As was standard for fancy New Year parties, people paid more and more attention to the clock as midnight approached. What they didn’t know was that more and more boos crept into the hall too, eager to witness the grand finale or to assist King Boo if he needed them. He didn’t think he would though.

At a minute to midnight, he had everyone living facing the clock. He stood behind them on a raised dais, ostensibly ready to lead the verbal countdown to the new year. What he was really doing though was prepping the portrait. It wasn’t a large party but there were still a substantial number of people, sucking that many people up into a portrait all at once would be a bit difficult but it could be done if the portrait was big enough and the pull of his magic into it was strong enough.

The countdown started soon after he’d magically stretched the portrait to the right size. “Ten… nine…” he said in unison with everyone else as he channeled his magic through the portrait, opening it up to suck people in. “…eight… seven… six…” If anyone noticed the soft purple glow coming the portrait and turned around to investigate, his plan might be in trouble. “…five… four…” Intoxicated and engrossed in the clock, no one did though. “… three… two…”

On “one,” Mario, standing a short distance away, glanced back. The fondness in his expression immediately morphed into fear and surprise. All he had time for was a gasp as the clock struck midnight a second later and King Boo snapped the giant portrait down onto everyone, sucking them all up into it.

Maniacal boo laughter filled the hall instead of the cheer that normally would’ve gone up. Trapped in his body, Peach cried and flung anger and despair at King Boo which only made him laugh harder. Ah, victory at last was so, so sweet.

With a chuckle, he levitated the portrait off the floor leaned it against the wall. With loud cheers and laughter, the boos gathered closer to admire it alongside him.

As was the way with such portraits, everyone trapped within it faced outwards, the expression on their face the same as the moment the painting had lowered onto the. It was mostly Toads, though several friends of the Mushroom Kingdom were here too, including a handful of Yoshis. And there was Mario, the only one with a scared expression which was wonderful. … But as King Boo’s eyes continued to rove the canvas, it became more and more obvious that something, no someone was missing.

“Where’s Luigi?” one of the boos pipped up because well, Luigi was nowhere to be seen on the canvas.

***

Cowering behind a pillar, Luigi flinched at the sound of his name. Overwhelmed by the feeling of something being wrong, he’d snuck out to get some fresh air. He’d returned just in time to see the portrait slam down on everyone, trapping them all within it.

“I don’t know.” It was physically Peach’s voice but the anger and hatred in it wasn’t Peach. Luigi had a not so sneaking suspicion as to who might actually be speaking. “Find him.”

Luigi clapped a hand over his mouth to prevent a fearful whimper from escaping. … He had to do something though. Mario had been captured again, alongside everyone else at the party and… poor Peach was possessed. So, before his hiding spot could be discovered, he gathered up the skirts of his dress in one hand so he wouldn’t trip and hurried back to the rear exit. It led out to the castle courtyard so he’d still be trapped but it was better than staying in here with no ghost hunting equipment.

Once outside, he hid behind a bush and pulled out his phone. … E. Gadd picked up on the third ring.

“Happy New Year sonny,” he said, jovial as ever as if he hadn’t let King Boo escape again. Unless he didn’t know but how likely was that?

“King Boo’s here!” Luigi spoke in a frantic whisper in case any boos had ventured into the courtyard.

“Oh! Hold on a sec… good news Gooigi, Luigi found King Boo.” If Gooigi replied, their answer wasn’t audible over the phone. “What’s the situation?” E. Gadd asked, speaking directly into the phone once more.

“He’s trapped Mario and everyone else in a big portrait and uh… he’s possessing Peach.”

“Oh! Hmmm… sounds like quite the predicament. Possessing Peach is definitely going to make dealing with him a bit harder, huh?”

“Yes but… why didn’t you tell me he’d escaped again?” Luigi had a right to know that kind of thing, didn’t he? He was King Boo’s primary target after all.

“Because I figured you’d probably be mad at me. Also, I thought with Gooigi’s help I could find and recapture him before he made another move. We’ve been looking all over for him.” Ah, so that was the secret ‘experiment’ they’d been working on. “Oh well, at least we found him. I’ll be over with Gooigi and the portable lab in no time. Oh also, I made some more improvements to the Poltergust, this’ll be the perfect opportunity to test them. Hang tight until I get there.” With that, he hung up, leaving Luigi on his own.

Assuming he was at his lab, it would take him about an hour to drive all the way down here. Meaning Luigi had to survive being hunted by a hoard of boos and King Boo himself for a whole hour before he could fight back. … He should’ve at least brought the Poltergust’s flashlight, huh? Too late now though, he’d just have to do his best and hope E. Gadd and Gooigi arrived before it was too late. … What an awful way to start the New Year. On the bright side, assuming they all got out of this, things could only get better from here, right?

[fierywizardmon]

>//:INTERMISSION: HOT SPRINGS

>//:BEFORE THE WARNING. BEFORE WHAT IS TO COME:: -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The trio after securing their ride over the digital ocean come to see the city ahead of them coming closer. It was massive, buildings intricate in their design and nature crowded together. Their structures rose high in the sky reaching the clouds and all the three could do was stare in awe, but not don...he knew this place fair well. The airship they were on blared a jingle in a robotic tone for all of them to hear. “We’re arriving at PRIMARY CITY airship drop off, thank you for riding and enjoy your stay.”

“Thank Yggdrasil..” Donovan said aloud, the two looked at him. Chester opening his mouth to ask “Why are you thanking Yggdrasil about?” Donovan then looked back to him then to Werner “Because since we’re here, first things first...We’re going to the hotsprings.” The other two digimon stared before in unision “What???

Chester saw that the other two were already settled in the water though he himself stood there nervous. "I thought you said you didn’t want to share a bath?” Chester questioned to Donovan. Donovan scoffed “Well Werner is already here and you’re going to come in anyways so...whatever.” he huffed. Chester still stood there and Werner spoke up “Comeon ches it’s going to get cold out there with you being naked and all! don’t worry the water won’t burn you” he said with a smile. Chester turned red “F-Fine okay I’m...getting in.” he then slowly walked over and eased himself into the water. Donovan and Werner just sort of watching as he did so “see! told you Ches” The wizardmon wanted to sink into the water and nearly did “y-yeah..” ---

Don is finally starting to relax after a while, seeing Werner and Chester interact, when he blinks, eyes set on Chester "wait a minute... i've seen this before"

The wizardmon had his upper body turned to Werner, and looks back to Donovan puzzled.

“You’ve what”

“I knew this rang a bell when Werner first pointed out” Don says pointing to Chester’s neck “your tattoo. It’s one of those ancient crests”

Chester’s eyes go wide, but he doesn’t say anything. Don continues:

"I thought they weren't used anymore..." he goes silent and then looks to Chester.“What” replied the wizardmon, in a defensive tone. Don lifts a finger to his chin: "So did you buy it on the black market, or did your dumb luck found the old code"

The water starts to boil near Chester "No, I didn’t buy it! Where would I even get the bits?!" he punched Donovan in the arm. Though after that the bubbling stops then he sinks into the water further "I didn't know shit about it alright?" With a sigh he continues "Some old decaying cave was a bad place for an egg to hatch and I couldn't just leave it there."

Werner’s mouth opens in awe:

“You found a digiegg!? That’s so cool! I always wanted to see one”

“You thought it was a common egg?” Don asked

“How was i supposed to know? I only found out when a blacktailmon tried to take it away from me…”

Don presses his lips together, gesturing dismissively:

“Instead of playing the protective mother hen, you could have sold it for a lot of money. What a waste of a golden opportunity”

"Well whatever everything's all done and gone now" he shrugs then looks to Werner ignoring Don "What have you seen anyways..you seem uhh.." Chester puts his hands together "...like you've been out - well I mean, before me and Don"

He stops, unable to find words to articulate his question. Werner’s smile wavered, but remained there:

"Oh, I don't think I have seen as many cool things as you guys! The region my family's from is quite peaceful, or... used to be until recently"

"So you broke your horn tripping on a flower?" Don crosses his arms.

Werner smile softens in a sad one, his eyes looking down "oh, so you've noticed....."

There’s a heat wave in the spring water from Chester’s end, enough to bring steam up. Werner pokes the broken tip of his horn with his metal hand:

“I used to wander off the village when I was younger. I just... I guess I always felt a bit antsy, more eager to explore the world than anyone I knew. And I got into finding things, old things, you know? Things that have a history in it, that you could tell something about the world just by studying them. So I’d go out by myself and find ruins, old and forgotten areas, trying to look for something that could offer me a glimpse of the past” he sighed, looking up to the sky “and… well, when I was out near a lake, I accidentally tipped an old electrical tower onto the water and that woke up the Seadramon living there. He wasn’t very happy with the commotion, I think he uh, thought I was attacking him…”

He paused. Both Donovan and Chester were listening to the story intently.

“I was lucky I got out of that alive. Recovery took a while and some of my data was too damaged to repair. I’m lucky I got my hat, or I’d be rather embarrassed by it. It’s not a very exciting story at all…” he lets out a chuckle in an attempt to make things sound more lighthearted than they were

Despite Werner’s attempt to keep the mood up, the other two were clearly somber. Don was looking down to the water, seemingly lost in thoughts. Chester had only his head out of the water, a concerned frown on his face.

“What about you, Don?” Werner asks.

“What…?” Don replies absentmindedly, snapping back to reality.

“How was your first digivolution?”

“Oh. Oh, uhh…” he shuffles, sits back straight against the rocks “it was… it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary”

“Nothing about you is ordinary, tho” Werner says “You’re a very unique digimon. You even got your own name all by yourself!”

“Well, you know what they say, labels are for archives” Don says with an odd modesty, clearly not accustomed with honest compliments “but my evolution was a bit of a blur. There was a fight, and a flash of light covered my vision, and suddenly I was several feet taller”

“Who started the fight?” chimes in Chester.

“Which digimon was it?” Werner asks.

“Why are you guys so curious all of a sudden?” Don asks indignantly.

“Well I remember you asking about mine and you never told me yours sooo..” Chester didn’t continue but he just kept looking at donovan waiting for an answer.

Don lets out a sigh, but his body is still tense and his eyes are anywhere but towards the other two digimon:

“It was a Megadramon and a Gigadramon. I was told to fight them. Her ord-- I mean, my order was to, well, defeat them. In order to get to Machinedramon…”

The wizardmon raised his eyebrow at the moment he said ‘her’ “So….some other digimon told you to fight them? What for I mean what was your job? I don’t see you the type to fight with anybody just cause someone told you.”

Donovan snapped his head towards Chester, and for a moment he almost looked offended for… something. But he quickly took a hold of himself, and waved his head away from Chester:

“I wasn’t supposed to fight them per se. It wasn’t meant to be a fight. The idea was to distract them and then defeat them with an item I received from, uh, my boss. A Dramon killing item. It just... “ he hunched his shoulders, curling up on himself “... it got a little messy”

He paused, fighting against either his own words or his own feelings, and then looked back to Chester.

“And why I took the contract is none of your business”

“Two Ultimate level digimons…” Werner mused, almost to himself “that must have been really hard. I don’t think any of us could win a fight like that. Especially without knowing how to digivolve! It just seems unfair”

Don huffs, but says nothing.

Chester sat there in the silence before he spoke up again “So basically you were used as a bait. Where was your boss or coworkers in all this? I mean two ultimates and one little… you. I’d think they’d of made you data and ate you for lunch.”

Don this time didn’t bother not to look offended - he leaned his body towards Chester, poking at the Wizardmon’s bare chest:

“Remind me how much do you know about teamwork? Because last I checked the only person you ever cared about in your life was a stupid egg that couldn’t even hatch!”

Werner left out a small gasp of surprise, one of his hands reaching his mouth.

Chester looked down to Donovan's finger poking at his wet chest. With a blink while frowning he looked up to Don with a fire in his eyes and grabbed at his finger.

“One. don’t poke me. Two. you don’t know shit about me, so how about you piss off? If you don’t,I don’t know if I can stop the instinct to light you on fire.”

“Big words for someone partially immersed in water. Try it and see how well you fare on that, matchstick”

“Guys!” Werner waves his arms, which shouldn’t look threatening except for the fact his arms are two big machine guns “we’re here to relax…”

“I just wanted to talk” Don complains, and tries to yank his hand away from Chester’s grip. Chester smirked as Donovan’s failed attempt, after Werner had him go dead quiet.

“I’m not the one that lost his shit at a question.”

“Oh, don’t give me that crap, I heard the disdain in your voice. And you may think you’re so cool being all rebellious and free from any burden or responsibility but you don’t know shit about me either. I thought there was too much to lose! I’d do anything to get that job done, I would gladly kill myself for her if--”

He cut himself sharply amidst his rant and leans back, having said too much but too proud to admit it.

“Let me go” he says after a short pause, pulling his hand yet again but with less intensity, merely a statement.

“No, I won’t let you go.” his tone still aggressive towards Donovan and kept him in a grip. “I mean I don’t know shit about you, true.” giving a pause realizing don cut himself off then continued “That’s why we’re talking in the first place and I’m curious as to why a digimon like you would kill yourself for another digimon.”

Don gritted his teeth. His first thought was to materialize the data of his gun and aim it straight at this misshapen puppet-looking, broad shouldered asshole right between those fiery, deep blue eyes. Why were his eyes SO blue?

But then he glanced quickly at werner, his concerned expression, and took a deep breath, leaning forward towards Chester.

“There’s no point in talking about it. What do you know about the emotion the humans call love? Nothing” his mask muzzle was but  inches away from the Wizardmon’s forehead “You wouldn’t understand even if I explained it to you”

Chester didn’t say anything he kept frowning and let Donovan go from his grip. The tension that had been building up at this point snapping, he then grabbed Donovan by the shoulders. Roughly kissed him afterwards pushing him to the edge of the spring and slapped him hard.

The sequence of Chester’s actions were so haphazard and unpredictable the Astamon got literal whiplash, and all he could do was to stare at the other digimon in a mix of shock, outrage and slight arousal (much to his annoyance).

“Stop implying that I can’t understand things” Chester added, and made his way to step out of the springs pool to go and dry himself off.

“Oh, you know all about it, don’t you?!” Don finally snapped his mind from his gutter, and his hand grabbed Chester’s ankle as he crawled off the spring, while at the same turning his upper body and yanking Chester back towards the water “alright then! Sit down and listen if you want to so much”

Chester’s weight gave way and he got slammed into the water, almost immediately making the water start to heat up to a boil entirely. Werner in the meantime was able only to let a tiny yelp escape his mouth.

All that came up was Chesters hand at first grabbing Don’s arm then yanked on him to pull himself up. “Start talkin’ cause I’m this close.”

The wizardmon’s hand was almost scolding hot, but Don withheld the wince, and put a single open palm against the other’s chest.

“Her name is Lilithmon. I don’t expect you to recognize the name, being the shut-in you are…”

He pushed Chester away with his hand slowly, just enough to have space between them (and thus avoid the distracting warmth underneath the water) “for starters, I wasn’t hatched in the Primary City. I’m not sure why… my best guess is that i was a leftover from the digiegg black market. Digimons with enough resources are able to bribe or steal digieggs from the city before they hatch, and they’re either sold or raised for cheap labor. A pretty smart move from a business point of view… you don’t have to worry about betrayal if the first words your minion learn is ‘Yes,sir’”

“Anyways, I met her when I was already a rookie, falling under her orders… and falling hopelessly in love with her as well. She was sophisticated and alluring and when she gave me an attachment to help me absorb data faster, I was hooked. Which led me into a blind quest to prove my worth to her since she would treat a chair with more kindness than she treated me. I was determined to become stronger, and I went quite the lengths to achieve that. I didn’t care what I had to do, or who I had to use, or how many times it took, if I became a Demon Lord, I would have a chance with her… or so I thought”

He shook his head “when I finally became Astamon I realized those feelings weren’t real. The attachment wasn’t for data absorbing, it affected my emotions core. It was turned off once I digivolved, and…” he shook his head. He still remembers it so vividly “I didn’t want to believe it, at first. But when I looked at her, and felt nothing, I knew that I had to go”

He leans back and lets his head fall backwards, his muzzle pointing to the sky.

“I’m pretty sure she meant for this to happen too. Not that it matters anymore…” his voice tone was absent minded, his thoughts clearly somewhere else.

“Is that why you’re being chased right now?” Werner tilted his head.

“Partially. They want me to keep working for them, with a change in… job titles” Don kept his eyes lost on the sky above as he replied.

“I digivolved because of her… because I loved her so much. Because I wanted to be a Demon Lord like her. And now I have to wonder if I would be a different digimon if I had never gone through that hell. Forever.”

With a sigh, he straightened his back and got up “there you have it” he said, and Chester knew it was directed at him despite Don having his back to the other ones “hope you’re happy” with a slight flap of his wings, he stepped out of the water.

Chester was silent listening in, the water's heat toned down and his hand cooled off. The threat wasn't there anymore after hearing that, why would he? Chester watched Don step out the water and just said a tiny “I guess...” before sinking into the spring again turning his head over to werner not sure what to do now.

Werner offered Chester a look that said “I don’t know what to do either”. Once Don was out of sight, he moved over to the Wizardmon, and whispered:

“We should do something for Don… it seems the city brings him sad memories”

“Yeah, I get that” Chester replied “but what can we do to cheer him up?”

The Gargomon looked up, tapping his finger against his chin, and his expression lit up.

“I think I know what we can do” he paused, and then frowned in a concerned smile “but you will have to put in an effort not to lose your temper”

Chester looked at Werner with a puzzled expression.

Half an hour passed by since the hot spring, and the door of the bedroom creaked open. Don wasn’t sleeping, too many thoughts in his mind to do so. He was leaned against the window, still on his hotspring robe, and peeked over his shoulder to the sight of Chester and Werner’s head coming from the door gap.

“What do you two want?”

“Uh… we were thinking… maybe… maybe, we, uhh, we could…” Chester stuttered.

“Can we sleep with you?” Werner asked. Don blinked in surprise.

“Why…?”

“Why?! Well I mean, isnt… isnt it obvious?” Chester tried to speak though it was very rough.

“We like you and we are sorry about what you went through and we wanna be close to you” Werner said without skipping a beat. Both Chester and Don showed a visible blush.

“Uhm… yeah” Chester agreed, practically curling up on himself.

Don had an almost outraged expression, but it was mostly a mix of confusion and embarrassment.

“Also we are naked and it’s kinda cold out here so can we get an answer soon?” Chester said.

“Wha-- gods. Come on in already”

Chester practically fell into the room as Werner pushed his way in as well. Don took a few tentative steps towards them.

“After all I said… do you still really wanna…” he bit his lip and couldnt finish the sentence. Then he felt two arms embracing him.

“Of course Don”

[jpaulfontan]

Preaching in All Circumstances

Preach the word, preach the cross, preach redemption to a lost and dying world. Lift your voice, unashamed, of the Gospel of His name! Hello, You’ve found the senior adult Sunday school class of Corinth Baptist Church in Singleton, Ms. The title of today’s lesson is….

Preaching in All Circumstances

This will be our 1stin a 4-lesson series under the general heading of: Facing Adversity

We’ll be drawing Scripture from the 24th, 25th, & 26th chapters of the Book of Acts.

Now, I don't know about you all,

but for me, when several names at

a time start getting thrown around

together in Scripture, it gets hard

for me to keep them all straight;

especially when I'm not real

familiar with all of them.

So I want to begin today's lesson

with a sort of Who's Who.

I want to try to keep them in the

order they're mentioned in the

Scripture we'll be covering today.

1st, then, is Ananias ben Nebedeus.

He was the high priest in Jerusalem

who was intent on having Paul killed.

By the way, "ben" means "son of" so

Ananias was the son of Nebedeus.

It was Ananias who hired and

accompanied Tertullus to Caesarea

hoping to have Paul convicted and

put to death.

This Tertullus character is described

by historians as a sort of forensic

lawyer who was familiar with the

various Roman legal procedures.

He was known as an articulate orator.

It's generally accepted that he

himself was a Hellenistic Jew,

(a person born Jewish and very much

influenced by the Greek culture).

He was probably from the North

African city of Alexandria.

Next to appear in our lesson is

a man simply addressed as Felix.

At the time that Ananias and Tertullus

made the journey to Caesarea, Felix

was the Roman governor over Judea

and Samaria.

Felix was formerly a slave but was

promoted by Claudius Caesar to the

office of governor.

Felix's wife, Drusilla is mentioned

in these verses, and I have learned

to never ignore seemingly

unimportant passages.

Felix was attracted to Drusilla,

a daughter of Herod Agrippa I.

The fact that Drusilla was already

married made no difference to Felix.

He enticed her away from her husband,

Azizus, and they later married.

She and their son, Marcus Antonius

Agrippa, died in the eruption of

Mount Vesuvius....Pompeii...

I hope y'all find this stuff as

interesting as I do; it gets better.

Then comes Festus.

Porcius Festus is the Roman governor

who succeeded Felix.

This is the man who tried to persuade

Paul to return to Jerusalem for trial

by the Sanhedrin.

This was Paul's ticket to Rome because

it was in answer to Festus' suggestion

that Paul appealed to be judged by the

Emperor.

And, it was Festus who had the very

difficult task of detailing the

charges against him that would be

read to Agustus Caesar.

Next comes King Agrippa II and Bernice.

King Agrippa II was a puppet king who

ruled under the Roman supervision of Israel.

Now, King Agrippa I had 5 children.

One of Agrippa II's sisters was Bernice.

These two were in an open incestuous

relationship.

Care to guess who another of their

sisters was?

If you haven't already guessed it, it

was none other than Drusilla; the wife

of Felix.....remember Felix?

(I told you keeping all these folks

straight wasn't so easy!)

Yep, Agrippa Jr., Drusilla, and Bernice

were brothers and sisters.

And that brings me to the last of the

characters I wanted to showcase for

you.

Augustus Caesar.

Oh, sure, he was the Roman Emperor.

But, very often, names and titles get

all jumbled up in the reading of

history.

The word, "agustus" is a word that, in

Latin, means;

"what is venerable, or worthy of

honor and reverence."

That sounds to me like a description

of God.

It's how most of the Roman Emperors

preferred to be thought of by their

subjects; as gods.

So, as it turns out, Agustus was a title bestowed to reigning emperors

by their Senate.

That all began during the days Jesus

still walked as a man on this earth.

It was 1st given to Caesar Octavianus.

So, who was Agustus Caesar?

It was Nero, the guy who burned most

of Rome and blamed it on the Christians.

It was Nero who ordered the Christians

be put to death; and regardless of

whether Paul's murder was ordered

directly or indirectly by Nero is

irrelevant.

I haven't been able to find out if

Paul ever actually got the opportunity

to appeal to Caesar, but in light of

what I've learned, I doubt it. One thing’s for sure, God ordered Paul’s steps even when he was in Roman custody. God’s plan and God’s truth, the gospel, cannot be thwarted by Satan or the schemes of man. What I hope to do in this lesson is to reveal for us how God’s providence was at work in both the life of Paul as well as in ours. That providence is to be revealed in our lives both before and after we embraced Jesus as Savior. It’s just good for us to remember this as we walk through our lives. God will never lead us where He can’t keep us!

And with that, let's get into the 1st

section of our lesson.

Section 1 God Guides His Servant to Preach to Others

Acts 24:1-10

(This is The Accusation against Paul)

1. After five days Ananias

the high priest came down

with some elders and a lawyer

named Tertullus.

These men presented their case

against Paul to the governor.

2. When he was called in,

Tertullus began to accuse

him and said:

“Since we enjoy great peace

because of you,

and reforms are taking place

for the benefit of this nation

by your foresight,

3. we acknowledge this in

every way and everywhere,

most excellent Felix,

with utmost gratitude.

4. However, so that I will

not burden you any further,

I beg you in your graciousness

to give us a brief hearing.

5. For we have found this man

to be a plague,

an agitator among all the Jews

throughout the Roman world,

and a ringleader of the sect

of the Nazarenes!

6. He even tried to desecrate

the temple,

so we apprehended him and

wanted to judge him according

to our law.

7. But Lysias the commander

came and took him from our hands

with great force,

8. commanding his accusers to

come to you.

By examining him yourself you

will be able to discern all

these things we are accusing

him of.”

9. The Jews also joined in

the attack,

alleging that these things were so.

(And, this is the beginning of

Paul’s Defense before Felix)

10. When the governor motioned

to him to speak, Paul replied:

“Because I know you have been

a judge of this nation for many

years,

I am glad to offer my defense

in what concerns me. There's no doubt

in my mind

that God

had His hand on Paul

from a very young

age; as he himself implies in the 1st chapter of his letter to the Galatians.

Every aspect

of his life

had led him to his

Damascus moment.

The Lord had brought him

to a realization of truth,

groomed him for ministry,

instilled in him

complete trust,

courage,

and an assurance

that everything

he would encounter

was in accord with

God's plan.

God's providence can

easily be seen

working in Paul's life

before and long after

he embraced Jesus

as his Savior.

Ananias,

along with his high-

powered lawyer

may have thought

they were going to

go before Felix,

the governor and

make short work of Paul,

but God had not yet

completed the work

to be done through Paul.

As this chapter

in the Book of Acts

continues to unfold,

Felix deferred the matter

claiming there was

more evidence to be

heard.

But, there was something

that caught my attention

down in verse 26.

It says, more or less,

that Felix was greedy

and hoped a

large bribe would

come from Paul to be

set free.

Apparently he hoped for

the bribe for two years.

I just have to believe

God put this in Felix's

heart.

(And, if y'all didn't

know it already,

one of my favorite

verses of Scripture comes

from Proverbs 21;

"A king’s heart

is like

streams of water

in the Lord’s hand:

He directs it

wherever He chooses.") Make no mistake, God IS in control!

Our Bibles tell us

that Felix often

called for Paul over

those two years,

and you can bet

they weren't

talking about the weather.

You know,

in Luke 21:14-15,

Jesus said to

His disciples;

"14. Settle it therefore

in your hearts,

not to meditate before

what ye shall answer:

15. for I will give you

a mouth and wisdom,

which all your adversaries

shall not be able

to gainsay nor resist."

….I will give you a

Mouth ANDWisdom…..

My Lord!

Earlier, while still

in the city of Corinth,

Paul had written a letter

that we now call the

Book of Romans.

In it he had penned;

"If God be for us,

who can be against us?"

He knew perfectly well

that the things that

came to mind while he

witnessed or while he

defended himself could

be spoken because Jesus

had already promised that

He would give him the

wisdom and the words

he needed at the time

he needed them.

Let’s move on to the next section of our lesson.

Section 2

God Sends His Servant Where He Wishes

Acts 25:9-12;

9. Then Festus,

wanting to do a favor

for the Jews,

replied to Paul,

“Are you willing

to go up to Jerusalem,

there to be tried

before me on these charges? ”

10. But Paul said:

“I am standing

at Caesar’s tribunal,

where I ought to be tried.

I have done no wrong

to the Jews,

as even you

can see very well.

11. If then

I am doing wrong,

or have done anything

deserving of death,

I do not refuse to die,

but if there is nothing

to what these men

accuse me of,

no one can give me up to them.

I appeal to Caesar! ”

12. After Festus conferred

with his council,

he replied,

“You have appealed to Caesar;

to Caesar you will go! ”

If you'll remember

from my introduction

for this lesson,

I gave you a

"Who's Who" list of

the various people

who would be involved

in the Scriptures

we're covering today.

Festus was the

Roman governor that

replaced Felix.

This was two years

after Lysias had

rescued Paul from

the Jews just outside

the gates of the

Temple in Jerusalem.

So, in deciding what

to do about Paul,

this new governor,

Festus,

being a politician,

was obviously trying to

do what would be to

his own best advantage.

The phrase in verse 9,

"...wanting to do a favor

for the Jews...",

shows us that he was

wrangling for an

advantageous position

with the people that he

had been appointed to

govern.

Festus knew perfectly well

that the Jews had every

intention of assassinating

Paul on the journey

to Jerusalem.

And, whether they killed

Paul on the journey

to Jerusalem,

or the Sanhedrin

had him stoned

once they got him

there,

either way,

it was a win-win

for Festus.

The Temple priests

would see to it that

Festus was looked on

favorably by the

Jewish nation.

But, given the

wisdom of God,

Paul answered Festus

by declaring that

he was currently

being tried in a

Roman court

for charges that

he was innocent of.

He told Festus

to his face

that he knew

perfectly well

that he was

innocent of the

charges the Jews

had brought

against him.

He said that

he was right

where he should be,

given the fact that

he was a Roman citizen.

He told Festus that

he wasn't afraid to

die, but if there

was no proof of any

wrongdoing on his part,

there was no Roman

official that could

hand him over to the

the authorities of a

foreign court.

Then he boldly demanded

his right to appeal his

case to Caesar himself.

Obviously,

Festus had

at his disposal,

lawyers who he

depended on

to ensure he didn't

step out of line

with Roman law.

This governor was

weighing his options

looking for a way to

gain favorable advantage

with the Jewish People.

Nevertheless,

he had to be careful

not to violate the

laws pertaining to

Roman citizens.

Recorded in the

New Testament,

Roman officials

cringed

at the thought of

violating the rights

of fellow citizens;

probably because the

consequences would

be too severe......

their own deaths!

After conferencing

with his advisors,

Felix was left with

no other option

than to grant Paul's

demand to be sent to

Rome where he could

take his case to

Caesars' court.

God meant Paul was

going to Rome and

no one was going to

prevent that from

happening.

You know,

God was protecting

Paul from his enemies

by having him in the

custody of the Romans.

If the Jews, bent on

killing him, had gotten

to Paul, it would have

probably been the ax

for the soldiers who

were assigned to guard

him. And later, when he finally did get to Rome, he was protected by Roman guards while he lived under house arrest there too. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s get into the final section of our lesson for today.

Section 3

God Controls His

Servant’s Circumstances

Acts 26:27-32;

27. King Agrippa,

do you believe the prophets?

I know you believe.”

28. Then Agrippa

said to Paul,

“Are you going to

persuade me

to become a Christian

so easily? ”

29. “I wish before God,”

replied Paul,

“that whether easily

or with difficulty,

not only you

but all who

listen to me today

might become as I am...

except for these chains.”

30. So the king, the governor,

Bernice, and those

sitting with them got up,

31. and when they had left

they talked with each other

and said,

“This man is doing nothing

that deserves death or chains.”

32. Then Agrippa

said to Festus,

“This man could

have been released

if he had not

appealed to Caesar.”

I want to stop right here and have you compare verse 28 between this translation and that of the King James. I just read to you the rendering; … “Are you going to

persuade me

to become a Christian

so easily? ”… In the King James it says; …”Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.”…. To me, these two

quotes from King Agrippa

mean entirely different

things.

They seem to portray

entirely different

attitudes from the

King.

The 1st one seems

to suggest that

Agrippa was saying

he would not be so

easily convinced

where the 2nd

gives the hope

that he doesn't

completely disregard

what Paul is saying

to him.

But to be fair to

King Agrippa,

both of these verses

could also indicate that

he was being the

consummate politician

here.

Could his statement in

either verse possibly be

considered a side-step?

Perhaps a way of avoiding

giving a straight answer?

I mean,

on the one hand,

to declare an unbelief

in the prophets

would have probably

caused an uprising

from the Jews

under his leadership.

On the other,

if he had affirmed

his belief in the prophets,

right then and there,

he may have seemed to

have been

just as

out of his mind

as Paul

to this

Gentile Governor,

Felix.

I would like to believe,

that when we get to heaven,

we'll discover there,

Agrippa & Bernice,

Festus,

Felix,

and all of the

others who heard

the gospel from Paul

during his

two year stay

there in

Caesarea.

The Bible doesn't

tell us that they

died lost.

Anyway, I just felt

like God would have wanted me to point

out this difference

to y'all.

Perhaps it'll give

you something in His

Word to ponder and

meditate on.

One thing's for sure,

just witnessing to

people can't persuade

them to become

Christians;

it takes a

work of God

in their hearts.

But God

does that work

through the

proclamation

of the gospel

of Christ.

Paul had written

in his letter

to the Romans,

"And how shall they

believe in him

of whom they have

not heard!

and how shall they

hear without a preacher!

and how shall they preach,

except they be sent?"

God has a plan, people!

The part of His plan

that we are

living in right now

is called,

among other things,

the time of the Gentiles.

The Jews have been

and

always will be

God's chosen people.

But, right now,

He's building

His church.

It's made up of

Jews and Gentiles

alike.

And He's doing that

in partnership with

His saints; we

carry out His

Great Commission by

being His witnesses,

and He brings the

increase by touching

the hearts of those who

hear the gospel.

Moving on....

It was God's providence

that Paul would be

given the opportunity

to share the gospel

with kings.

As Festus,

the Roman Governor,

sat with King Agrippa

and Bernice,

listening to Paul,

he dismissed him as

a nutcase.

But it wasn't that

easy for Agrippa.

Paul had pointedly

asked the King if

he believed the prophets

of old.

He even declared to

the king that he knew

he did.

He boldly declared

that the king knew

the truth of what Paul

was telling him

about Jesus.

The prophets,

as Agrippa well knew,

had

foretold everything

Paul was now declaring

about the life,

the death,

and the resurrection of

the Lord Jesus Christ.

Look, Paul had a

crystal clear

understanding of the

difficulties and the challenges

of presenting

the gospel

to both the Jews

and to the Gentiles.

The Gentiles prided

themselves on wisdom;

and the Jews, well,

they placed their hopes

in supernatural power.

On the face of it,

the idea of the cross

of Jesus as Messiah,

to them,

seemed like foolishness

and weakness.

(?) And, the very idea

of Jesus somehow being

brought back to life

after His brutal scourging

and crucifixion

three days later?

Well, that was just as

unbelievable and

equally as foolish.

Yet, that's exactly

what the Gospel is;

it's God's wisdom and

strength on display

for the whole world

to see.

Paul never backed down

from its fundamental

truth.

He gave everything

he had

for this message

to go forward.

He stood before

Kings, High Priests,

and Governors in chains,

enduring their criticism

in the hope that

everyone who heard

the gospel through him

would believe

just as he had.

That's a great goal

for us to set in our

own lives;

for everyone that we share

a meaningful conversation

with to be supernaturally

compelled to embrace

Jesus as Lord!

As we go through our lives following Jesus, we may be ridiculed, mocked, falsely accused, and, perhaps, even jailed. The times for us in this country are definitely changing. But whatever comes, we just have to hold on to the same truths that Paul did.

I believe with all my heart that God guides our steps so we can preach this gospel of Jesus Christ to others. I believe God plants us where He wants us to be. And, I believe He is absolutely in control over all of our circumstances. Let me end with this statement of faith: God continuously guides His people, both collectivly and individually where He has called them to carry out the mission He has given them. God carved out Paul’s path and protected him amidst false accusations, being unjustly detained, and the constant threat of being killed by his accusers. God also sent His Son, Jesus, who humbled Himself by enduring false accusations and an undeserved death sentence so that we might be saved. Knowing this should compel us to be concerned for the salvation of others. God providentially connects

us with people who don’t know Jesus so we can share Jesus’ story with them and they might believe and be saved. Let’s pray….

[gethealthy18-blog]

How To Know If You Like Someone – 21 Telltale Signs To Look Out For

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/getting-healthy/getting-healthy-women/how-to-know-if-you-like-someone-21-telltale-signs-to-look-out-for/

How To Know If You Like Someone – 21 Telltale Signs To Look Out For

Harini Natarajan Hyderabd040-395603080 July 15, 2019

Love is such a wonderful thing. It can make you feel so many unknown emotions. But, it can be super confusing as well, especially if you are falling for someone.

You might feel torn about your feelings – is this just a crush? An infatuation? Or, is he THE one? Do you actually like him, or are you just feeling lonely? Are you confusing friendship and affection for romantic love?

Girl, you should chill, because we have compiled the perfect list of signs that you need to watch out for. They will tell you if you have fallen deep into the crevice of love. If you agree to most of these, you have it for this guy. Let’s go through it one by one and finally get the answers you so desperately need.

How To Tell If You Like Someone

1. You Think Of Him Constantly When You Are Not Together

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You are plagued by his thoughts every waking moment. Is he thinking about you right now? Is he having a good day? Did he have his breakfast/lunch/dinner? You keep praying that his cold gets better or his fever goes down when he is sick. You start missing him like crazy after a minute of being apart from him. If you can relate to this, my love, you have been bitten by the love bug. Your heart doesn’t belong to you anymore, senorita!

2. Every Little Thing Reminds You Of Him

This is a telltale sign that you have fallen for him. The fact that you saw a poster of a movie he likes and thought of him immediately or were honked at by a car that looked a lot like his and your heart skipped a beat when you thought it was him proves that he’s on your mind. You have long crossed into the love lane, buttercup.

3. He Makes You Feel Like You Can Do Anything

He challenges you to do things you have never dreamed of doing. He makes you feel empowered and strong enough to be the best version of yourself. He believes in you and thinks you are super awesome. His unconditional trust in you makes you trust yourself more and do better in life.

4. Life Is In Technicolor Now

Have you ever felt this way before – this alive, this aware, this happy? Has the sun always been so bright and food always tasted this amazing? Do other people fade from your vision when you see him? Does everything feel like it is happening for the first time? Oh, baby, you are in love!

5. You Are Discovering Things About Yourself You Never Knew Existed

Getting to know the person you are crushing on brings out new traits of your personality. You try to be a better person and see life in a new way. You try to look better, dress better, read more, listen to new songs – so many things just to impress that special someone.

6. You Want Your Best Friend To Like Him

You are super nervous that she won’t. It matters what she feels and thinks about him, and you keep pumping your bestie with information about how amazing he is, just to turn the scales in your favor. But, don’t worry, girl. Your bestie will love him too!

7. You Don’t Want Your Other Friends To Know About Him Yet

You want to keep your love secret for now. You want to let it grow on its own for as long as possible. The bond that you are creating with this person really means a lot to you, so you try to keep it protected from outside interference and opinions. You don’t even want to put it on Facebook or Instagram because you don’t want to jinx it. This is not a casual fling for you – it matters to you how it turns out.

8. You Hang Out With Him During Weekends As Well

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If you are happily giving up your Saturday night parties to cuddle with him on the couch or going out for dates on crazy rainy Sundays to spend some time with your new bae, you know have fallen in love, hook, line, and sinker. Girls don’t give up their weekends for just anybody! He is special, girl. Just admit it.

9. Tinder Is Boring

Who could possibly be more handsome, interesting, articulate, funny, and sexy than your boo? Hmmph, all pretentious puppets! If you think this is the case, I doubt you would be doing tinder for long.

10. You Have Sizzling Chemistry

Your physical connection is as good as your emotional connection. You feel like your bodies were meant to be with each other, your hearts were meant to be beating as one. You even suspect your bond is out of this world, may be from a previous life. You feel like you really know this person, even if you don’t know him that well.

11. When You Are With Him, You Have Boundless Energy

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We all know how doing anything can make us feel tired. But when you spend time with him, instead of getting drained and tired, you feel more energized and vibrant than you have felt in years – even if you have been walking up trails all day, hiking. You could keep walking for hours on end if you could just be with him.

12. You Suddenly Like That Hobby Of His – Something You Have Always Despised

Now, spending your weekends watching reruns of cricket matches or WWE wrestling games does not seem so bad. I mean, who doesn’t like watching sweaty, bloody blokes fight each other? Yep, girl. Yep.

13. You Discover Something Nice About Him Every Day

When you start liking every single thing he does, even how he eats, no one can save you, woman. You are obsessed with even the tiniest things about him, like the way he rolls up his sleeves before doing manual work or the focused look on his face when he is doing math. To you, it’s all magical.

14. You Make A Mental List Of Everything You Want To Tell Him

You might even take notes, just in case you forget. Yes, you may be going crazy – crazy in love, that is. You want him to know about every single thing that you experienced or saw and want his opinion on them. You both can talk for hours about random stuff, and it means the world to you what he feels about stuff.

15. You Even Have A File On Your Phone Of Links And Memes You Want To Send Him

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Yes, songs, memes, stories, news, trailers, video game reviews, recipes – you save the links to everything you think he might like to see. Oh no, you can’t just send them all at once! You keep it for rainy days!

16. You Obsess About His Favorite Books And Movies

Mostly, you are trying to know him better and are looking for more information about how his mind works and what he likes. You look for merchandise related to the things he loves to gift him – F.R.I.E.N.D.S T-shirts, GOT mugs, BREAKING BAD posters – just to see that smile on your bae’s face.

17. You Want To Know EVERYTHING About Him

You just have to know everything about him – what his childhood was like, names of his best friends through the years, the pets he has had, the scariest things that ever happened to him, his most vulnerable moment, his favorite dish…everything.

18. You Like Him For Who He Is Not Who You Want Him To Be

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Nobody is perfect, but you like his little imperfections and the baggage he carries – they are just the right fit for your own. You can live with his shenanigans because you adore him with all your heart. You can both work with each other’s weirdness and be perfect together.

19. Your Eyes Light Up When He Walks Into The Room

You cannot hide your feelings however hard you try. And, not to burst your bubble, probably everyone can see it too. You can hardly stop your lips from smiling, your eyes from sparkling, and your heart from singing. You get more animated while keeping an eye on him slyly. But, madame, you are fooling no one – they can hear your heartbeat a mile away.

20. You Are Living On A Steady Stream Of Adrenaline

You are always riding the roller coaster of emotional highs, but boy, you ain’t getting tired of this! Even when you are getting into fights with him, it is all passionate and crazy and probably taking the sexual tension between you both to a whole new level. You are always high on life, and feel like you are playing a role in a movie – like it is all meant to be.

21. You Are Scared Of Your Feelings But Too Excited To Let Them Hold You Back

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Allowing yourself to fall so deeply in love with someone is terrifying. In the past, you might have stopped yourself from getting involved with someone you liked, but this time, the feelings are just too strong for you to resist. Your heart just doesn’t listen to rationalization anymore and makes you act like a fool in love. You feel a myriad of emotions – love, hate, jealousy, anger, and anxiety with new vigor. But you still can’t get enough of him. Something about him makes you feel that you have finally come home.

A good way to determine if you like someone is by noticing if you want to share important things in your life with him. Just like we want to tell our friends and loved ones when something new happens in our life, we can’t wait to tell the people we have feelings for when something big happens to us. His opinion matters to you. Period.

Don’t let your fears hold you back. Get to know him better and move forward in the relationship – because, girl, you deserve to happy. All the best!

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[murasaki-murasame]

Thoughts on Owarimonogatari Season 2 [Mayoi Hell]

I was hoping at first that I’d get done with my rewatch of the whole series up to this point before this came out, but I guess that sure didn’t happen, lol. I’ll get back to it eventually, once I have the free time for it. But for now I’m just gonna watch this now that it’s out. I’m already kinda late for this as it is.

I’m going to try and do this in a semi-liveblog-y way where I’ll binge-watch each part while giving my thoughts after each individual episode and then post this once I’m done, but if that ends up being annoying I might switch to only writing up my thoughts after I’ve completed each arc. Which also applies to the main rewatch. Doing it like an actual liveblog where I keep pausing it to write about it got really annoying really fast, so yeah.

It’s good to be back with this series after waiting nearly a year and a half, after Koyomimonogatari came out. I feel like I’m not really as into it as I used to be, which is why the idea of doing an entire rewatch is sorta daunting and might potentially fall apart if I lose interest, but it’s still nice to finally get to see the conclusion of the main story.

Anyway, spoiler-y thoughts under the cut. [And for the record, I’ll try and make posts for Hitagi Rendezvous and Ougi Dark over the next two days or so]

PART ONE:

I’m glad I have a good memory for stuff I’m into, since even with the fairly intense recapping going on it’s still kinda vague and there’s still so much going on in the series as a whole that this is building upon. There’s probably stuff I’m forgetting, but I think I’m good. I’m at least aware that the whole premise here is that Araragi got murdered by Gaen in an attempt to restore the spiritual balance of the town, and now he’s stuck in Hell and has to get back out.

Seeing Hachikuji again is as wonderful as I expected, even if it immediately reminded me that the fanservice with her character is one of the many things I kinda have to glaze over and look past in order to enjoy this show. There’s no point denying that. This is definitely a guilty pleasure sort of show that I’d be hard-pressed to recommend to most people. But even so, Hachikuji is great. I’m clearly less enthusiastic about her character than other people are, but I still like her as a character.

It makes sense, but I wasn’t expecting to get a literal walk down memory lane. Huh. It’s a nice way to make the story feel all full circle in time for the final arc, I guess. It at least helps remind us all that Araragi is the sort of person who would have kept doing the things he chose to do even if he could go back and re-do them. For better or worse. I’m glad that Araragi acknowledged that he fucked up pretty bad with Nadeko in general. He really, really did.

I’ve been kinda thinking about this for a while, but this whole arc is making me remember that I’ve always kinda struggled to get an exact grasp on Araragi as a person. I’m not sure why. Maybe rewatching the series would help, but something about his personality and world-view, or at least how he articulates it, feels weirdly difficult to get. But there’s still parts to his character that are pretty incredibly obvious, like his incredibly low self-esteem and his self-destructive heroism. I feel like I probably understand him more than I don’t, there’s just this weird feeling of distance involved, especially when he monologues about justice and stuff.

Of all characters, I wasn’t really expecting Tadatsuru to come up again, given how short-lived his screen-time was. Huh. I’m intrigued by the idea that it’s part of Gaen’s whole plan to have Araragi return from Hell, and that him dying somehow erased his vampirism. Is that, like . . . a legit, permanent thing now? Is he just not a vampire anymore? I feel like he still was when we saw him again in Hana, but I forget.

I guess we’ll get to her properly later, but I’m glad that we’re finally going to address the topic of Ougi. She’s been such a huge part of the story for a while now, so finally getting an explanation of what she is will be nice. I think I’ve already been spoiled on it a bit, so I won’t get into it until the show does.

The art in this arc already is kinda off the charts. This definitely seems like one of the more exceptionally dialogue-heavy arcs, so I guess they had room to just go completely nuts and do what they want, especially since it’s literally set in Hell so they have an excuse to use some surreal visuals. I’m glad we got a whole section with Hajime Ueda’s character design style. It always looks really good. I also just love how incredibly different pretty much every scene looks. Though in an almost opposite direction, I really like how the scene with Kiss-Shot was done to intentionally look like the beginning of Bake when we get the flashback to Kizu. That was kinda trippy, in a cool way.

It’s at least immediately confirming what I’ve been thinking, that Zaregoto just feels way more lifeless than the Monogatari series in terms of artistic direction, but that’s a rant for another day.

Before I move onto the second half of the arc, I should also say that it’s nice to get another Mayoi OP, even though hers have always been low on the list of favourite Monogatari OPs. The visuals were really nice, though. I hope we get an OP for Hitagi Rendezvous, but I heard that we won’t, so that sucks. Unless we get one in the BD release. Thankfully we’ll at least get an Ougi OP for the last arc of this. I’m still hoping that we get an actual Araragi OP when Shaft eventually adapts Zoku.

Oh yeah, on that note, the fact that this is seven episodes long in all REALLY makes me sad that they couldn’t have just added a Zoku adaptation onto the end and aired this as a regular one-cour anime. That would have been so much more convenient in every way. OH WELL. Hopefully it won’t take them too long to adapt Zoku, even if it probably won’t happen until next year. And then we’ll have Off Season and Monster Season to worry about. I wonder how long they’ll keep the series going before they cut their losses.

PART TWO:

I was, uh, not expecting basically everything in this part. Wow. So we finally got proper backstory for Tadatsuru, and learned what the heck was going on in Tsuki. I didn’t think Nisioisin would bother ‘explaining’ Tsuki, I figured it’d just be left as a kinda weird and out of the blue part of the story. But now it makes sense. So the whole time Tadatsuru was operating under orders from Ougi to kill Araragi, while also operating under orders from Oshino and Gaen to get killed so he can go down to Hell in order to help revive Araragi once he gets murdered later on. Huh. I also wasn’t expecting the entire deal with Tadatsuru being some kinda puppet master who had already died and was living through his dolls. All the focus on doll imagery in that part was kinda disturbing.

I wonder if we’ll ever see Oshino in the flesh again, in the present day. It’d be great to see him again. I’ve kinda missed him.

Also in terms of mysteries I didn’t think would get solved, I didn’t expect that the park name would be resolved and turn out to be so important. Wow. I feel like they’re setting up a plot point there, or at least furthering an existing plot point, but it’s hard to tell. It’s probably just a cultural difference, but it’s kinda difficult sometimes to understand the importance and relevance of shrines in this series, and what happens when they get relocated/destroyed/renamed/etc.

For some reason I kinda didn’t remember that Tadatsuru always saw Araragi as an enemy because he works with an apparition, so I guess it was a good thing we got reminded of that. We spend so much time with apparitions that I kinda forget that the specialists are literally trained to kill them, pretty much.

It was nice to see Hachikuji try and give Araragi a motivational speech about how he deserves to be resurrected. Her line about how he ‘loved being alive’ kinda got to me for some reason. But then of course that scene also got unexpectedly weird and funny.

And of course the major twist was that Hachikuji got taken out of Hell as well, which I did not see coming at all. Huh. I’m also kinda surprised that nothing bad seems to have happened, and that it actually benefits Gaen’s entire plan of action. I kinda expected it to be something that’d have an obvious downside, but maybe that’ll come up later.

I’m not entirely sure what the deal is with Kiss-Shot being there at the end in some weird hologram-y way, but I guess it had to do with the Yume-Watari sword. Although there’s also the fact that it really does seem like Araragi’s vampire aspect literally got erased, so maybe that changed things with Shinobu. I forget exactly how their link works, though, so I’m not entirely sure if him losing his vampire nature would help or hurt her. I guess we’ll see how it goes.

I wasn’t exactly expecting this entire arc to end on the note it did, but I guess it makes sense. I kinda feel bad for Araragi, though, getting killed, literally sent to Hell, and revived along with a friend he thought was dead, all in like an hour or so. And now he has to immediately take entrance exams and worry about how he’s going to have to help Gaen in her whole war with Ougi that’s being set up. He deserves a break.

Which is probably why Hitagi Rendezvous is, apparently, about him and Senjougahara going on a date. That’ll be cute. People have been complaining that they haven’t gotten enough screen-time as a couple yet, and I kinda feel that way too, so this will be nice.

Also on the note of Senjougahara, it sounds like whatever subs I was using decided to adopt the Vertical translation and call her ‘Senjyogahara’ which still just looks so fucking weird to me. I really dislike that was of romanizing her name. It’s not a big deal or anything, but still.