#she said none of our direct ancestors had done it here but still

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

You ever had an older relative just drop information on you super casually while you and some other younger family were having a conversation and it’s like “…what?” Everyone they told is in shock for a moment like, you never said anything about this??? And by younger I am including at least one aunt who is around 50. That whole time and you just drop the knowledge on us all because I mentioned something about a different family member

Anyway, apparently the older people in my grandparents childhood Icelandic American community were just fucking outside marriage and a man having kids with women who wasn’t his wife was totally normal and he usually claimed them like he would a kid from a marriage. Dudes were just casually fucking and having kids and it was normal to those communities. How did that never come up until I mentioned a mysterious relative on my dad’s side (which isn’t even the Icelandic side) who I was trying to help with genealogy. Old people will just say things like they expect you to know even though they didn’t say anything about it before they opened their mouths. They will go decades without telling younger family and then just casually tell the whole room like it’s the name of their childhood dog and not some random and stunning revelation

[talldarkandroguesome]

21st of Sun’s Dawn, Tirdas

It was a short survey of things with the manor and crypt. What time had I for more? Twenty four hours was all I was given to be out of the city.

So I made sure it was quick, but thorough work. Every servant was questioned individually and asked about their duties and how they were liking things. Then I went straight to the family tomb and I summoned uncle Tanval to make sure that he and the others were being properly tended to. He has done nothing but sing praises for the new regiment of prayers, cleaning, and offerings conducted by Hlavora. I did my own circuit as I was there, but other than the ritual pouring of water, I had no need to bring it. There was no dust or dirt in sight. Everything was kept as if it were a home, the smell of flowers and incense permeated the halls. I even spotted a couple of handmade offerings. I was impressed. And it seems all my ancestors are, too.

I shall have to see to it that some of the Council is brought here and made to see how good a job I am doing. That my constant trips to the city are well worth it. Maybe some of them would reconsider their own duties and how they press their scornful attitudes upon me.

I did congratulate Hlavora on her meticulous efforts. I explained that I was well pleased for how she followed my instructions to the letter and did things as I should like them done. She seemed very proud of receiving such praise and said that it was her honor to be taking care of the family crypt.

So, too, did I offer much to all of the house staff. Wanam-Jush in particular. As always he has been allowing for Hlavora to solely concentrate on her crypt duties, which means happier spirits, as well as keeping the home in excellent condition. I assured him that all of the staff was soon to be increasing their salary as soon as I was able to put in the next budget for my accounts.

Then, with my immediate business concluded, I made my way to the Harborage. I was happy to see that there were more furnishings and spiders. Everyone was in a pleasant mood. I surprised them during a meal and I was glad to see that they were all taking it there together.It seems that, although they still are maintaining their lives outside of the Harborage, they are making an effort to spend as much time together as possible.

There was a sense of apprehension about my arrival, but also a bit of a celebratory atmosphere. I told them that I had to finish some business before we all got started, but that I wanted to greet them sooner, rather than later. After some pleasantries I retired to my chambers and locked the behind me.

Then I sent Farayn with the usual message for Zethith.

We spoke about the usual Nest business. Of my continued training for the spiderlings and all their specialized lessons. Of what I wish to have my potential death weavers concentrate on and how I am going to be testing them. Of ways to take the others and start to spread our influence about the city. Including my stating that I was expecting that Tanur would soon have enough capital to start a business and begin to use it as a way to partake of more Mephalan arts out in the open. In a way that none will suspect, of course.

When we had settled the Nest business, I could finally broach the subject of Leythen. I asked them if it were possible for them to locate a specific soul within the Spiral Skein. They asked if this was a sacrificial victim or something else.

I said I wished to know if the soul of the previous Widow were there. 

They grinned and said that they could certainly know.

I asked if it would be possible for them to locate that person, that I might be able to meet with them, speak to them, ask them questions. I knew that even if Leythen were there, if it was not possible to speak to him or have him answer me in turn, that it would do little good.

Zethith replied that it was certainly possible.

I could guess at their coyness and decided it was best to be more direct. I told them I should like to do so if it were possible.

They said that it certainly could be, but that they would need something of a payment for going to such length. I eagerly asked after the cost and they explained that there were three options for me.

The first, as unspecified favor for later. This was clearly a very dangerous thing to agree to with a mortal, let alone a very powerful being such as my Weaver.

The second, was to humiliate one of their rivals. This seemed a natural option, for I wish to prove my loyalty and usefulness, but I would not wish to agree blindly. A powerful Daedra is likely to have powerful rivals.

The third, was to provide a gift that was of equal value to that which I was asking. If it was of acceptable value, they agreed they would do so.

Naturally, I asked after this rival. For I wished to know more about that option, particularly if I were to select such a choice.

As soon as I heard that it was one of Clavicus Vile’s inner court, I decided that it was best to go with the third option, which I selected and Zethith told me that we shall work on it as soon as I was able to deliver the payment to them.

I had little time to celebrate my good fortune, for there was much I had to teach and the ceremony to yet run.

The lessons are somewhat of a blur. As were the usual rites. Even our post ritual celebrations felt as though I were not entirely there. Not that I performed them any less sufficiently. Only, my mind was half locked upon my new goal. The ideas of what to provide as a gift continue, even now, to ruminate inside my mind.

I could not tell you many details of my return home, either.

Once I settle upon a gift, then I still have to see that it is made of a sufficient quality. I need to prove just how important this is to me. How much I long to see it done. To see Leythen once more.

What will I say to him? I do not even know.

I have so much to consider. To feel. To do.

My Prince, grant me strength.

[purpleswans1]

The Sun Hashira

I published this on AO3 a while ago, but just now am getting around to adding it here. Oh well. A while back, this concept drilled its way into my head and didn't stop until I wrote it down, so here we are.

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He only thought about his old battle-brother again after nearly a decade due to Kyojuro. The boy had gotten it into his head to succeed his father as the Flame Hashira, despite his own lack of talent and Shinjuro’s despair. Kyojuro stole the flame breathing books of his ancestors and was still training in secret. This led to a loud argument that only ended when Senjuro - timid, quiet little Senjuro who usually hid in a corner - jumped on Shinjuro’s back to try and pull him away from his brother.

Once Shinjuro had settled down and made it to the bottom of a sake bottle, he realized that it wasn't his son’s fault that he was so impertinent. Tanjuro had retired when Kyojuro was still a baby, so he couldn’t remember what true greatness was. Most of the Demon slayers from that time were dead now. Of those who had fought beside the Sun Hashira, only Urokodaki, Old man Kuwajima, and Shinjuro himself remained in the land of the living. Even the late Ubuyashiki head had finally succumbed to his curse and left matters in the hands of young Kagaya.

It had been so long. Over a decade at this point; they were in the Taisho Era now. It was past time for Shinjuro to visit his battle-brother and possibly forgive him for leaving.

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

“Excuse me, but do you know Tanjuro Kamado?”

“Hm?” The shopkeeper in the small village town tilted her head. “Oh, why yes! Kamado-san makes the best charcoal in the prefecture. And his family is so kind! I wish my little Kanime would take after Tanjiro, you rarely see such a well-behaved boy these days.”

So, he does have a family. “I’m an old acquaintance of his and haven’t visited in a while,” Shinjuro carefully explained. “Would you mind giving me directions to his house?”

“Of course!” The lady clapped her hands together. “Just follow the mountain pass over there, past Saburo-san’s house, for about half a day. Actually, Tanjiro-kun just left here, so if you run you may catch up to him.

Unlikely, especially if he’s from that man’s bloodline.

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

“You look well, Rengoku.”

Shinjuro couldn’t bring himself to reply with the same greeting. When he’d last seen Tanjuro, the only sign of his debilitating illness had been a frequent cough. Now, the man’s face was hollow, all his muscle tone was gone, and those eyes that once burned with the sun had all but lost their light. According to Kie, her husband couldn’t even walk more than a few steps outside without assistance.

An angry part of Shinjuro wished that he hadn’t come, so he could only remember his battle-brother in his prime.

“...It’s been too long.” Shinjuro finally said, sitting down on the porch next to Tanjuro.

“How is your family? Are Ruka and Kyojuro doing well?”

“...Ruka passed away several years ago. She did give me another son, Senjuro.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Still, I have no doubt that your sons’ are a credit to her memory.”

“Everything that’s good about them came from her.”

Tanjuro sighed. “You’ve always been so hard on yourself, old friend. You may be the eldest son, but you shouldn’t try to carry the world on your shoulders. We are all only human.”

“Some of us are,” Shinjuro muttered.

“Please, not this old argument again.” No matter how many times Tanjuro tried to assure him that there was nothing inherently superior about the breath of the Sun users, Shinjuro refused to hear it.

A young, miniature Tanjuro ran up to the two men. “Father, will you be okay with Hanko and your friend while I help Nezuko and Takeo with the wood?”

Tanjuro smiled at his son. “We will Tanjiro. But before you go, would you mind showing me your Hinokami Kagura? I want to make sure you’re practicing.”

Shinjuro gasped and turned to his friend.

Tanjiro, for his part, looked unsure and cast a glance in Shinjuro’s direction.

“It’s fine,” Tanjuro assured his boy. “Shinjuro is an old friend, he’s seen me do that dance many times.”

This was apparently enough for the boy, who nodded, ran off to the edge of the clearing, and picked up a stick to serve as a substitute for the blade.

“So, at least the legacy of Sun breathing will continue on.” Shinjuro muttered.

Tanjuro only grunted.

Tanjiro moved through the set styles hesitantly, with shaking arms and unsteady feet. Still, Shinjuro could already tell that the boy would master it eventually. He may not be at the level of his father, but that boy would surpass anything Kyojuro could accomplish in no time.He was surely blessed by the Kami.

“That boy will be a great demon slayer someday.”

“No.”

The response was so sudden and unusually fierce that Shinjuro originally didn’t realize that it was Tanjuro speaking. “What do you mean?”

“Tanjiro won’t be a demon slayer. I want him to live a peaceful life, unconcerned with those tragedies. I want all my children to live long, simple lives.”

“You can’t be that naive!” Shinjuro shouted. “That boy has the mark!”

“You’re wrong. That scar on Tanjiro’s forehead is from when he saved his younger brother. Besides, I doubt that even I have the mark you are looking for. If what the records say is true, those around me should have achieved the mark as well, and none of you did. I for one, am glad for that. You’ve passed the age of 25 already, and I’d hate for you to not see your sons grow up.” At the end of his speech, Tanjuro’s voice broke into coughs.

Tanjiro noticed his father’s state and ran up to them. “Father! Don’t exert yourself!”

Shinjuro stood up. He looked down at his old friend, his battle-brother, the man he admired most, and was disgusted. The Sun Hashira was reduced to an invalid, and his chosen successor had the temperament of a nursemaid instead of a warrior. It was pathetic.

“Coming here was a mistake.” Shinjuro said. “I’ll take my leave now.”

He would eventually regret that those were the last words he said to his old friend

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

Unknown to Shinjuro, his visit did have an effect on Tanjuro Kamado. That night, he pulled his eldest son aside and showed him a Nichirin blade.

Tanjiro’s eyes sparkled in wonder at the blade. “Father, are we from a family of Samurai?”

Tanjuro chuckled. “No, nothing like that. You may see this as a family heirloom, but it was only forged in my generation. We are a family of charcoal-sellers, after all.”

Tanjiro nodded. He looked a little disappointed, but he was a child of the new Era and didn’t need to worry about legacies from the Edo period.

“Tanjiro, as you are the oldest son you will probably inherit this house once your mother and I have passed on. You will have a new family to care for, and will continue our traditions. However, if the day should ever come when you or your descendants need to leave this place and face great danger, I ask that you please take this sword with you. It is strong and sharp, and you can protect yourself and others with it.”

Tanjiro would remember these words before he left for Mt. Sagiri with his sister, and would carry it to Urokodaki’s house though it never occurred to him to unsheath the blade.

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

Several years later, Kyojuro came home and announced that he was the new Flame Hashira. Like that was any great accomplishment. Shijuro became frustrated with his sons, downed another bottle of sake, and decided to do the stupid thing and visit Tanjuro again.

This time, he remembered the way and didn’t need to stop by the village. If he had, he might have noticed how sad they were at the mention of Kamado and might have learned the truth earlier.

Instead, he made it all the way to that little house on the mountain before he saw the graves.

All he could do was pay his respects. Someone had already cleaned the house, but based on the broken door and family history Shinjuro could easily guess how they’d died.

The whole time he stood there, one question ran through his mind: What could I have done to prevent this?

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

“Kyojuro said you wanted to speak with me?”

Shinjuro turned to look at the young man in his presence. The current Water Hashira, Giyu Tomioka, was not an intimidating man. His skills were certainly a testament to Urokodaki’s tutelage, and he may have somewhat surpassed his old master, but he was like water. Calm and unemotional, but ready to flow through the path of least resistance.

He certainly did not have the skills to combat someone even a Sun breath user couldn’t defeat.

“I have an old friend who lives in your domain…” Shinjuro described the path of the Kamado household, or at least what was left of it. “...I recently went to visit him, but I found only an empty house and buried graves. I suspect they were killed by a demon. Did you ever run into any demons in that area?”

Tomioka stood there silently for about a minute. Shinjuro got frustrated and started to get up and leave. If the man didn’t know who he was talking about, then there was no point in talking to Tomioka any more.

“...Kamado. That is your friend’s name, isn’t it?”

Shinjuro froze in a half-kneeling position. “Yes.”

“I remember them. It was a little over a year ago now. I received a notice that there was a strong demon in the area, but by the time I got there everyone in the house was already dead. I’m sorry. If I had made it there half a day earlier, I might have been able to save them.”

Shinjuro leaned back again. He couldn’t bear to think that the legacy of Sun breathing was truely dead. He certainly couldn’t bear to think of Tanjuro’s children being brutally massacred. Still, he couldn’t blame the Water Hashira for this.

Tanjuro’s words rang in his head. We're all only human.

“You’re only human. It can’t be helped.”

“...You should know that one of them escaped unharmed. The oldest son was staying in another house that night and wasn’t attacked.”

Shinjuro sat up at that. “The eldest is alive? Tanjiro, right?”

Tomioka nodded. “He had a strong will and showed great battle instincts, so I sent him to my old master Urokodaki to be trained. I suspect my master wouldn’t send him to Final Selection this early, so he’s likely still there if you want to learn more about what happened to your friend.

“... I guess I’ll have to visit Mt. Sagiri.” Somehow, he doubted Urokodaki would know who he was working with, even if he’d been acquaintances with Tanjuro.

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

The hike to Mt. Sagiri was hell on Shinjuro’s gout-ridden joints. He was getting too old for all this traveling. Still, he owed it to Tanjuro to check on his son’s progress, and he wouldn’t be able to rest until he was sure Sun breathing was being used again.

When he finally reached that little house at the base of the mountain, the only one waiting for him was Urokodaki.

“Giyu sent a letter after you spoke with him, Rengoku. I suspected you’d come eventually.”

Shinjuro snorted at that and sat down on the floor. “Have you got anything to drink?”

“No, unless you’re referring to tea. Why are you concerned with Tanjiro Kamado?”

“You may be an idiot, but your not that blind or dumb. His name is Kamado.” Shinjuro sighed. “He’s the son of our Tanjuro.”

“And what does the identity of that boy’s father have to do with anything?”

Shinjuro balked. There were no words for how stupid Urokodaki was acting, so he just glared.

Urokodaki sighed. “You know, when I finally realized where I’d seen those hanafuda earrings before I was tempted to send for you. You were Tanjuro’s best friend and should have been the one to guide his son. Now, I’m glad I didn’t. Kuwajima at least took a moment to mourn our old friend before asking if I thought Tanjiro would survive final selection.”

This infuriated Shinjuro. “Who do you think -- “

“Urokodaki-san!” a young voice called out from beyond the doorway. “It’s getting dark. Is dinner…” He froze when he caught sight of Shinjuro.

“Tanjiro-kun, this is an old friend of mine, Shinjuro Rengoku.” Urokodaki said. “Please forgive his intrusion.”

“You… I remember you.” Tanjiro said. “You came to visit father years ago. How do you… how do you know both my father and Urokodaki-san?”

“Hm.” Shinjuro grunted. “I heard about what happened to your family. You have my sympathies.”

“Ah, thank you.” Tanjiro finally entered the hut and sat down.

Shinjuro scrutinized the boy critically. He had grown a great deal in the last few years, and had finally developed some muscle tone. It seems Urokodaki’s training was good for something at least. Tanjiro had also lost his child-like innocence. There was steel in his soul, and he had the eyes of a warrior. Just like Tanjuro used to.

“Tell me boy, do you remember your father’s Sun Breathing?”

Urokodaki sighed in exasperation.

“Sun… breathing?” Tanjiro looked at the other two men in confusion.

“Come on, I saw you do it when I last visited your father.” Shinjuro waved his hand. “He said his usual nonsense about it being a prayer to the gods again…”

“Are you talking about the Hinokami Kagura?” Tanjiro asked. “Are you saying… that it’s actually a sword style?”

Both Urokodaki and Shinjuro stared at the boy in shock.

Shinjuro recovered first. “Yes exactly.”

“But… father never mentioned…”

“Tanjuro retired from the demon slayer corps before you or your siblings were born.” Urokodaki said. “I imagine he didn’t want to pressure you to follow a path he knew was fraught with danger and would lead to an early grave.”

Shinjuro rolled his eyes. “Fat lot of good that did him.”

“Don’t talk about my father like that!”

Even Urokodaki was surprised by Tanjiro’s outburst.

“All my life, Father had a frail body. By the end, he couldn’t walk on his own and could barely get out of bed. Still, he took care of us the best he could. And every new year without fail he’d dance from sunset to sunrise nonstop! So don’t disrespect him!”

Shinjuro was shocked to notice that Tanjiro was starting to cry.

“Father… father had passed away several months before the attack. I wasn’t there, I was peacefully sleeping in another house while my family was being brutally murdered. Still, despite my own regrets, I know that the only person responsible for their death is Muzan Kibutsuji! That’s why I decided byself to become a demon slayer! For their sake!”

Tanjiro was standing up by the end, breathing heavily.

All three occupants stared at one another for a long while, before Urokodaki finally broke the tension. “Rengoku, it’s dark out so I’ll let you stay the night, but you should leave tomorrow morning.”

Shinjuro scowled. “Yeah. I can see that I’m not wanted.”

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That night, while Shinjuro slept in a spare room and didn’t wonder about the closed door nearby, Tanjiro spoke to Urokodaki about his father. For the first time in his life, he learned about how great of a swordsman Tanjuro Kamado had been. How he had risen to the rank of Hashira and killed hundreds of demons in his short tenure with the corps. How he was the man both Urokodaki and Shinjuro admired most.

When Tanjiro finally remembered his father’s sword, he asked for permission to train with it. Urokodaki granted it without a second thought, though he knew the requirements for breath of water sword was slightly different from breath of sun.

“Urokodaki-san, did my father ever battle Muzan directly?”

“No. None of the demon slayers have even seen him in centuries. But, if there was anyone who had a chance, it would have been your father. He slayed 4 different lower moons over the course of his career, and even battled against Upper Moon 3 and survived until they fled with the sunrise.”

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Right after that night, Tanjiro started training to use the Hinokami Kagura beside his breath of water. It was difficult, especially since the spirits of dead children could only help with the breath of water, but he was able to split the largest boulder within a month, half a year earlier than he needed to qualify for the next Final selection.

Tanjiro would feel guilty about getting a new Nichirin blade after final selection when his father’s was perfectly adequate, but when Haganezuka-san was so excited to see how the blade would change color Tanjiro decided to use it for a while. At least, until it broke at Mt. Natagumo and he felt better just asking one of the swordsmiths to sharpen the older blade.

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“Come Father! Come meet my three new tsugukos!”

Kyojuro was as loud as ever. Subtlety was never the boy’s strong suite, and bursting his eardrums years ago hadn’t helped matters. At this point, talking with his son was exhausting for Shinjuro.

“What makes you think you have anything to teach these tsugukos? I heard about your last mission. You’re now blind in one eye!” Shinjuro grumbled.

Two new voices rang through the Fire estate.

“WHAAA---”

“Oi! What are you saying about Rengacho? I’ll fight you!”

The most striking interruption though was a streak of red that rammed into the back of his head.

“Don’t belittle Rengoku-san!”

Shinjuro rolled off the porch and into the garden, finally landing on his back. The blinding high-noon sun didn’t help his hangover and budding concussion. It was almost a relief when a figure blocked the light, until he realized who that red hair and dangling earrings belonged to.

“Flame Hashira Kyojuro Rengoku is a magnificent swordsman! He protected five train cars by himself when we were fighting the Lower Moon One! When that was done, he immediately fought with Upper Moon Three and survived! Sure he lost one eye in the battle, but that hasn’t diminished his fighting spirit!” shouted Tanjiro Kamado.

Shinjuro couldn’t do much more than blink. “... Kamado? Is that you?”

Tanjiro turned away and bowed towards Kyojuro. “Kyojuro-san, please forgive me for being so disrespectful to your father. However, I couldn’t stand by and let this man who claims to admire my father speak so ill of you.”

“Ha! That is no problem, it’s about time someone gave him a good head-but.” Kyojuro laughed. “I only hope your head isn’t hurt too bad as a result.”

“Nope! I have a very thick skull!”

“Ha ha! Oh, you mentioned your father, Tanjiro-kun. Is that who you learned Sun-breathing from?”

Tanjiro nodded. “Yes. I always knew it as the Hinokami Kagura, but after I started training with Urokodaki-san this man came by and mentioned that my father used sun breathing, and I started to incorporate it into my sword style as well.”

“I see. My father frequently mentioned his old friend who practiced sun breathing, but I never had the pleasure to meet him. Still, this is wonderful! Perhaps your ancestry is responsible for your sister’s unique condition.”

“That’s what Urokodaki said as well!”

As Tanjiro and Kyojuro laughed and talked, Shinjuro couldn’t do much more than sit up and look at them. Ignoring the blonde and boar-head in the background, the sight before him was like a blast from the past. Kyojuro and Tanjiro, they were just like Shinjuro and Tanjuro, only better and more at ease.

Kamado, old friend, it seems our sons have surpassed us both.

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

Taisho Secret: Giyu took so long to respond to Shinjuro when they were talking about the Kamado family because he wasn’t sure if he should mention Nezuko. In the end, he decided to keep quiet and leave it to Tanjiro to decide. Between this and Rengoku stubbornness, Shinjuro didn’t find out about her until after that last scene.

Note: I‘m not quite sure what butterfly effect would have led to Kyojuro surviving in this AU. Either Tanjiro handled the upper moon one easier and was still in shape to help with the fight or Akaza took one look at Tanjiro, had flashbacks to fighting his father, and ran the hell out of there as fast as he could. It was probably a combination of both.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Field of Spears.”

Hope you guys enjoy the story for today :)

They sky above was dark with rain clouds, they were thick, streaking the sky with great black streaks like someone had wiped their hand over a permanent marker while it was still wet. 

It was just the forefront of the storm, so the rain hadn’t yet come, and the wind had died down mostly. The clouds overhead moved quickly, and caused rolling waves of shadow over the land below.

That’s how she saw it at first, coming up over the rise as a wave of iridescent light spilled down from the clouds, and onto a glittering field of spears. There were hundreds of them, certainly thousands, and they stretched off in each direction as far as the eye could see. Some, those at the front, shone with the bright silver of highly polished metal, while those at the back were darkened with age and ash.

From this height, it looked like a forest, or a sea, and when the wind did decide to blow, the valley below her was whipped into great rippling waves of color, bright at the front with thousands of colorful moss-woven capes, and gradually fading black to a dull brown or even black with the other spears and their tarnished metal were the capes had been stained black with age.

The wind died, and the capes fell, like a bird’s feathers puffed up only to fall.

Sunny followed the track slowly, down into the valley, doing her best to keep her feet on the rocky terrain, and loose volcanic stone that made up the path before her. She wasn’t alone of course, a slow trickle of other Drev made their way into the valley their way slow and their heads bowed just like her.

She followed her way down onto the path and turned to where a the field of spears sat like a dense forest before her.

What looked to be the skulls of Drev, but were really just long disused helmets sat atop each one of the spears, all that remained of a thousand fallen warriors. Sunny followed her feet knowing where she was going even despite the years that had passed since she had visited this pace.

The Valley of the Fallen.

She stopped, in a spot that seemed indistinguishable from the rest, though somehow she knew it was right, pausing to approach two spears stood side by side, buried deep in the ground and welded upright by the glue of falling ash and rain.

She reached out, brushing the ash from one helmet and onto the ground before turning to bat as much of the ash as she could from the cloak. It had been many years and the fabric was well on its way to being saturated, so there wasn’t much left from the warm golden color that had once been, same with the other and the pearl white cloth that had once existed there.

She bowed her head kneeling on the ground before the last memory of her father.

In Drev belief, spirits were always recycled back into the wide spiritual world. Everything had a spirit, which meant thatcher father’s spirit was likely still around. Despite her upbringing, and despite everything that had happened to change the world of the Drev since she was a child, she still believed in the spiritual traditions and religion of her ancestors. That part of her had never been shaken.

So, she knelt to the ground slowly before the last memory of her father, raising her head to the helmet, which she could almost imagine as having him in it if she tried hard enough.

“I miss you.” She said softly, “Perhaps if you were here you would know how to help me, though perhaps that is only a wish of mine. Perhaps you would not understand like so many others, I like to think you would have tried though. “She sighed, “I am…. Alone. Perhaps I should have seen this coming, you don’t give the strength of your spear to someone who cannot lift it. But…. I suppose that is the way with humans. While they are like us in so many ways, there are things about them that are so alien. I Always assumed battle pairs fought together through the hard and the easy, but Humans see it a bit different. He says when you love something you have to let it go, and I don’t understand what that means. If you love something would you not want it to stay as close to you as possible…. Either way.” She turned her head to look down at the small round helmet and folded green cape that sat just below it, “As is the custom of our species…. I will never love again. I hope this is not seen as breaking the sanctity of this hollowed place for he is neither dead nor dying, but… A part of me has died….”

The wind picked up just then, and all around her a rainbow of colors rose up to flapped against the wind.

Lightning flashed over the mountains, and the field of spars glowed white for a single moment. She knew she should probably move, but didn't have the energy to care about the impending danger.

She hummed softly to herself as she stood, and turning her head to the sky, she Reached upwards, and Drove the but of the short metal spear into the soil with a loud crack. Lightning flashed overhead again.

WIth the spear firmly planted in the ground, she stepped back, and then softly reached up to pull the green cape over the tip. The fabric ripped on the point before catching and she slowly reached up placing the helmet on the point of the spear in a tradition that went back thousands of years. The right of the widow had been complete.

She stood staring at the Green cape as it billowed softly in the wind, illuminated by one more flash of lightning before she turned and made her way from that palace and the graveyard of memories.

It began to rain as she made her way from the last line of spears, and a loud crack of thunder illuminated the ground before her. It had likely caught one of the spears as it was so prone to doing during electrical storms, so she made her way hurriedly towards the rock overhang and a patch of tea moss, safe and away from the driving rain.

She sat herself on a ledge cross legged and with her blue cape wrapped tight around her shoulders as the wind blew little droplets towards her from the mouth of the overhang.

After a few moments a shape appeared out of the driving rain, and a figure broke through, shaking water from her pale peach carapace.

Sunny Stood slowly, and the other Drev froze, spear in hand.

“I didn't realize this outcrop was taken.” They stood against each other, “What clan are you from?”

“The wandering tribe.”

The other Drev stood straighter in surprise ‘The wandering tribe…. With the humans/”

Sunny nodded.

The other drev lowered her spear, “Might I share the dry with you/”

Sunny slowly seated herself and nodded motioning to the moss, “This land is not mine, so sit and be warm.”

And other Drev thankedher and took a seat.

She was a pretty little thing Sunny observed, still taller than her of course, by almost a foot, not particularly tall by Drev standards though however the color of her carapace was pleasant enough.

“You are here to observe the rights of the widowed?”

Sunny nodded, “I am.”

“I am sorry for your loss… I too am here for that. My battle partner died in glorious battle not more than a night ago. A spear to the throat, and a mound of corpses piled around him. She lifted her head in something that was almost like pride, “And yours?”

Sunny sighed.

“His past caught up with him.”

The other Drev tilted her head, “An old foe.”

She looked ou at the driving rain and the waterfalls that fell from above, “Yes, an old foe come back to haunt him.”

“I am sorry about that.”

They sat in silence for a moment before sunny lifted her head, “What is your name.”

The peach Drev Shifted to a more comfortable position, “Ralata and yours.”

“Chalan.” Sunny paused for a moment, “Perhaps it is none of my business but, how long were the two of you together.”

Ralata shrugged, “Couldn’t have been more than a year or two.”

Sunny nodded, ‘An how…. How do you cope with the idea of being alone for the rest of your life…. I know it is something that can be done, but it does seem daunting…. And lonely, I was just wondering if perhaps you could shed some light for me.”

Ralata raised her hands, ‘We are never alone when the spirits are with us. Life is fleeting when the universe is so old.”

Sunny couldnt help but be amused at the singularly Drev-like thought process it took to meet that conclusion, though she found it oddly comforting. 

“I suppose you are right.”

“There is more to life than a battle partner, there is the sky and the ground and the wind, and there is always glorious combat. If we cannot find solace in these things then we have lost the battle that is life.”

Sunny nodded slowly.

“Take comfort in your own solitude.”

“Your words have been helpful, thank you for bringing my thoughts back to the truth.”

She and Ralata spoke long into the night as the rain fell, mostly about combat, and about the past and about the wars they had fought in. Sunny told tales of her adventures on strange worlds and the odd creatures that she had met. Ralata seemed fascinated by the stories, though she had no inclination to go and see them for herself. 

Sunny found Ralata’s presence to be refreshing. In a way she reminded Sunny of Adam before his inner demons had taken away the spark, she was bubbly, happy, and talkative for a Drev, which was nice to fill the silence.

“Are you going to return home after this?” Ralata asked, “To your ship in the stars?”

Sunny shook her head, “Not at first, no, but eventually, yes.”

“What will you do in the meantime.”

Sunny paused not sure if she should tell this other drev what her plans were, having not entirely decided if she was going to do it or not. Once she verbalized it, it would be set in stone and she would have to do it. Not because this oher Drev new, she doubted she would ever see Ralata again, but because i she said it out loud she would feel obligated to do it.

After a long silence she finally spoke.

“I am making a pilgrimage to observe the Sacred ritual of Creation.” 

Ralata pulled back in shock, “Creation, but that hasn’t been done for a thousand years, no one even knows if the monk on the mountain still exists to guide that ritual.”

“Well I suppose I will find out.”

Ralata sat in silence for a long moment staring at Sunny with wide, Orange eyes, “You are brave I suppose, no one knows how long that ritual could take.”

Sunny tilted her head back to look up at the stars, “It doesn't matter how long it takes, hopefully there will be a place for me when I return 

[stylishanachronism]

Classic Aedyran and/or Dyrwoodan love story archetypes (and which gods they do and/or REALLY REALLY DO NOT invoke or involve)?

This went extremely sideways and also has no internally consistent organization, but that’s why it’s a series of bullet points and not an essay.

So Aedyrans are pretty obviously into three things: duty, tragedy, and Drama. Like on the surface it’s all austere dutiful piousness but go like, an inch below that and the dramatics just start pouring out.

-I’m not saying Aloth isn’t like, legit anxious about the very real trouble he’s about to be or currently in, I’m just saying a solid chunk of that is rooted in a culture that takes ancestor worship to really weird places, among other things, and literally none of it is as big a problem as literally anybody is making it out to be.

—the appearance of not even wrongdoing but just.... not enough virtue signaling is *just as bad* as actual wrongdoing. (They blackmail that one kid with his mom’s probably-fictional indiscretions? To the point where it kills him even.) Like ‘I saw Goody Proctor vent’ is actually the name of the game here.(1)

That being said, and given soap operas have not been invented, we’ve probably got three major schools of art:

-high brow morality plays in which either our poor ill fated couple, torn apart by (unscrupulous relatives? That hussy down the street? A wild misunderstanding involving a stolen baby who was swapped for another stolen baby? Somebody’s being tempted away from true love here, to whatever end) fate, dutifully come back to each other and are deliriously respectably happy together, or fall into despair and die over their bad choices. Think extra-overwrought Victorian ‘modernists’(which I heartily don’t recommend.), crossed with the soapiest tellanovellas you can imagine (which if you’re into that style of drama, I do)

-fantasy Shakespeare, where all the dick jokes are so old nobody recognizes them any more, possibly with a moral stapled to the end

-eyebrow raising, too much for today’s delicate stomachs, fucking wild shit presented as ‘educational’, with worse shit underground(2), because the veneer is more important than the reality of the thing.

But the major tropes you’re going to see like.... overall, not just in theater, are probably more community based? Like, you fall in love with your neighbor’s kid, she falls in love with you, so you both go to your mothers and they’ll determine whether it’s a good match or not, you technically don’t really get a say in the matter.(3) There’s also probably a lot of superstition involved? Like, if the omens are bad you’re not getting married, but if they’re just okay you may have to wait six months.

-also there’s a lot of hideously complex contract work over who’s marrying into what, among other things.

—divorce isn’t an option! Better hope your relatives pick wisely!

—- more accurately divorce is even more hideously complex and expensive, so unless your spouse is actively trying to kill you it’s probably not worth it, and even then you’d probably have serious second thoughts.

In terms of like, the Ideal Romantic Partner (not necessarily romantic partner, but given you’ve got to be married if you want to(socially acceptably) have sex or have kids, because Aedyrans are wild), you’re probably looking at someone dutiful, who will put their own comfort second to keeping their word, cultured but not smug about it, efficient but thorough, graceful and always perfectly composed no matter what happens, soft spoken without being servile, and the whole package should come across as effortless.

We’re attempting to ignore all the work I’ve done re: shitty Protestants, so we’ve canonically got nobody actually in charge of marriage anywhere, so probably you’re praying to Woedica (to keep your contract) and Hylea (if you need this marriage to be fruitful), and maybe even Ondra (to ensure everybody remains faithful, because Aedyrans are Dramatic, and the fucking moon bedroom is a thing)

As for the Dyrwodans:

Less repression + more inversion ceremonies mean they’re way less dramatic in general, but obviously that means they’re still Really Dramatic, given they’re into swearing eternal feuds over literally nothing every other day. They place a much stronger importance on soul lineages than blood lineages, but whether you take that into consideration re: romance probably depends on what current feuds your family and/or community is currently embroiled in, and how serious they are. And if you have the cash/local cipher to get said lineage traced.

-Theater tropes are going to tend towards the comedic (think 27 dresses, or some other friendshippy romcom) and bawdy, and also fantasy Shakespeare, now with added dick jokes, because the existing ones are still too old to be recognizable, and probably some of the less overwrought Aedyran and Vailian plays, maybe. Also the whole theater plot, because that is a thing, even if they’ve had to bury it both deeper and shallower than Aedyr.

As a general thing, marriage is still mostly a practical thing, and while your families are definitely involved, they’ve generally got much less of a say in it. Outside of high society weddings, which are obviously more alliances than anything else, there’s generally not a contract so to speak; because children belong to their mothers, and nobody much cares where she got them unless she’s already married, when and if she does get married, it’s socially expected that her new spouse will join her household, and splitting up a household is so socially unacceptable murder is a neater, less fraught solution than divorce(4).

Your Ideal Romantic Partner (who probably is romantic, unless you need an extra pair of hands all the time that badly) is clever without being supercilious, with an easy disposition and a good sense of humor, willing to take life as it comes, but also to defend what they’ve got to their last breath, generous and community minded, but still independent enough not to need looking after, forthright but not unkind, and you should be able to tell how hard they work for whatever it is they want.

As for gods: pre everything, you’re probably looking to Abydon, to build your disparate members into a household, and Eothas, to make that household into a home. Post everything, it’s just Abydon, maybe Magran to ask that whatever trials you face make you stronger together. I don’t know, there isn’t a really good option there re: canon.

1: the Readcerans somehow take this even further but in an even weirder direction, this shit is wild, babes, but we’re not talking about them today

2: I’ve got a specific horrible irl example in mind but we’ll go with the theater quest in PoE, turned up to 11, because that lot hasn’t had nearly as much time to get established as Aedyran equivalents have.

3: congrats this is why Aloth is so hard to romance I guess. Nobody has approached his mother about him/he hasn’t asked his mother to approach anyone. Also I have extensive thoughts on the vagaries of social class re: marriage, so like, who exactly does the approaching is probably equally complex!

4: look I didn’t put that quest in there, what the fuck else am I intended to think? ....I mean Obsidian definitely definitely didn’t expect me to come up with polyamory gone wrong but like I’m not reaching when I say that’s the conclusion I came to. Hooray for weddings?

[missbeautyandherbeast]

By Any Other Name

Draco Malfoy X Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: You hated Malfoy and he hated you and you were okay with that. It was natural. The Malfoys and the Lupines hating each other. It was fine by you... so then why did you care when he got hurt?

A/N: Alright y’all. Here it is! A small piece to what I have coming for you guys. At the moment we’re gonna keep it in book 4 because... well I want to. A few notes: 1. I gave the Reader a last name (and something very close to my own) 2. Because I’m American, so is the reader (it’s explained) 3. Yes, I am a Gryffindor (but I have a problem with the House system, but I won’t get into that now) Please let me know what you think! Do you guys want a seperate blog dedicated to this? 

HP Tags: @coffee-addicti​ @ilikestuffproductions​ @msmcsmutt​ @ravn-87​ @artemismohr18​ @whygz​ @crazywritingbug​ @dolphincommander​ @bisexualbumblebeesstuff​ @fuzzy-panda​ @bitemebro522​ @zombiesnips-blog​

Fourth year at Hogwarts and of course Malfoy stood right there on the train as we shipped off. I didn’t say anything as he and Ron and Harry got into it again, though I wanted to. It had been four years and the only person that Malfoy hated as much as Potter, happened to be me.

Our families had been rivals for... centuries. In a desperate attempt to break the cycle, my parents moved to America, with me. I had no contact with Malfoy or his family... until I got my letter to Hogwarts. Then the time came to go back and be who I was meant to be.

When first year came, there was a blond-haired stood beside me in line alphabetically, and though he didn’t talk to me, and scared off other students, I did manage to get a smile from him. I knew his nerves matched mine. We had reputations to live up to. It gave me hope that I wasn’t alone.

Then I found out he was a Malfoy. 

And I was a Lupine.

Slytherin and Gryffindor.

I guess it started then. Every class we had together we had avoided each other. Shunned each other. I refused to rise to his bait, and I suppose he grew bored. We hated each other in silent. Unlike Harry, Ron, and Hermione—who I was quite close to, but not completely taken with—I sighed and shook my head.

That was, until third year and the entire Buckbeak incident happened. Then I wasn’t quiet anymore. I was almost worse than Harry about making snide comments to the ‘Slytherin Prince.’ I hated injustice and I was tired of being quiet about it. And Harry wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and Hermione wasn’t the most vocal... I on the other hand was both, and it infuriated Malfoy to no end. Because there was one thing that I had on him:

I was a pure blood. And he couldn’t do anything about that.

Our rivalry grew. Every day it was something different. Every class we had together we challenged the other. I won most, but the few he did win he wouldn’t let me live down. Our duels left him angry and brooding and me grinning and smiling all day.

Maybe I could see why our two families didn’t get along. He was too easy. It was almost fun. It also helped me in my classes—to beat Malfoy at his game I had to be smarter than him.

_________________________________

The Fourth Year

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a pure blood,” He sneered as I got off of the train.

I snorted a laugh and rolled my eyes, Harry and the other two had gone on ahead, leaving me with Malfoy and his two goons.

“Careful Malfoy, I don’t think I’m a mirror,” I quipped, a wicked grin on my face.

I could see him grow red as he looked for a comeback. I simply walked off.

“You won’t win! No matter what you do!” He shouted.

“I don’t have to win!” I turned around, still making my way towards the school. “I just have to beat you!” A smile stayed on my face for the rest of the night.

_________________________________

I watched as Harry turned away and Malfoy rose to cast a spell against him. I drew my own wand to counter him, but there was no one to cast a spell on but a small silvery ferret, where Malfoy was standing.

I stared at the small thing, a smile growing on my face. This was almost too easy.

Moody came then, started scolding the little ferret Malfoy, holding him by his tail and I itched to tell Moody that’s not how you’re supposed to handle any kind of animal—even if it was Malfoy—but McGonagall beat me to it.

Something, that was beyond any rivalry, gripped my heart when I saw Malfoy, now human again, curled up on the floor in pain and fear. I was about to reach my hand out to help him up, but Hermione gave me a nudge. A reminder.

“Don’t talk to me,” Ron said quietly as we sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

I was almost to lost in thought to notice that he had said anything.

“Why not?” said Hermione in surprise, drawing me from my thoughts.

“Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,” said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. “Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret . . .”

Harry and Hermione both laughed, and a smile touched my lips as I ate quietly. I didn’t quite agree, and I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I should be laughing at his misfortune. It was almost too easy. The entire situation was a gift from my ancestors, and yet something was... off.

“He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,” Hermione said. “It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it —”

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I didn’t like the idea that he had gotten hurt... or could have gotten hurt worse than he already was. But why did I care again? We were enemies. That was that. And yet...

I tuned out Ron yelling at Hermione at her comment. 

“Hermione’s is right guys, it could have hurt him,” I muttered.

I looked up from my plate and Ron and Harry were staring at me like I had three heads. Hermione was indifferent, the look on her face like she knew something.

“Any why do you care? You hate him more than the rest of us.” Harry pointed out.

“I compete with him yes, and he’s a pain, yes, and I wish I never had to see him again... but he doesn’t deserve to...” I trailed off knowing I was fighting a losing battle.

“I’m off to the library,” Hermione stood, pushing her plate away.

“I’m gonna go too,” I stood, pushing away my half-eaten plate.

“But why? You don’t have homework!” Ron complained.

“I’m not doing schoolwork,” Hermione said in passing as we left.

As we walked down the hall Hermione didn’t stop looking at me. I sighed and kept to my own thoughts, trying to unravel the dilemma that the situation presented.

“You like him,” she nudged me.

“What? No! I don’t!” I deflected. “Me!? Like a Malfoy!?”

She laughed.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell the boys. But if you want to check on him, he’s probably in the infirmary complaining.”

“Why would I—”

“You really think I believe you want to go to the library?” She raised an eyebrow. “You hate the library. You study in your room at all costs,”

That was true, I preferred my own space and to study in the comfort of my own bed and room. It was hard enough focusing, let alone focusing on things in a place I wasn’t comfortable in.

“I just... I don’t know Hermione... seeing him like that. No one deserves that. I know Malfoy is... Malfoy... but injustice is still injustice?” I offered. It was some sort of explanation.

“Go,” She ordered. “I’ll see you later.”

I debated a moment more then decided.

“Thanks, Hermione. I owe you one,”

“Just go!” She shoved me off and I changed directions heading towards the infirmary.

Thinking that this was the stupidest thing I ever had done, I, for once, shoved every preconceived notion about Malfoy that I had and went to go and see if he was... okay.

Ugh.

I could hear him complaining as I entered the hallway that held the infirmary. A smile touched my lips as I neared the door. Some things would never change.

“Can I help you, dearie?” Madam Pomfrey asked. 

“Here as a visitor,” I smiled sweetly.

“For who? Mr. Malfoy?” She raised an eyebrow at me. She had seen both of us in here as a result of our little rivalry.

“Against my better judgement, yes.” I sighed.

She let me in and immediately his eyes snapped to mine. His eyes were puffy and red, like he had been crying. He looked pitiful. I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t have it in me.

“What are you doing here? Come to make fun of me?” He snapped, crossing his arms.

“Where’s your posse?” I asked, folding my arms as well, cocking my head back. “I thought sure they would be with you.”

“Am I their keeper?”

“I thought so.” I smirked.

“Whatever, Lupine,” he rolled his eyes.

We remained quiet around another as time stretched out. There were so many things that I wanted to say but didn’t. I wanted to ask if he was okay, if he needed anything, if he was still hurting. But I also wanted to laugh and make fun of him. I wanted to put him down and never let him live this down. I wanted to write a letter to my parents so that they knew...

And I did none of that.

“You make a cute ferret,” I noted and turned to leave, wondering why I went in the first place.

.

.

Part 2

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 8

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link!, Chapter 2 Link!, Chapter 3 Link!, Chapter 4 Link!, Chapter 5 Link! Chapter 6 Link! Chapter 7 Link!

Summary: What makes them tick, what gets under their skin, our villain wants to find out. Let’s see.

Warnings: These characters are going through it, the warnings on AO3 for Blood and Injury, Childhood Trauma, and Emotional/Psychological Abuse start here.

Author’s note: it has been almost 72 hours since Revenge of the Spider Queen aired in English and now I can finally post this. MINOR SPOILERS INSIDE (and in future chapters).

Chapter 8: Endurance Test

Red Son took a half step back, trying to take stock of his surroundings and keep his breathing steady at the same time. MK and Mei had to be somewhere nearby, he didn't know precisely how the Calabash worked but he could make a pretty decent assumption based on their experiences so far and what Jin had told them. This was all perception, a trick of the virtual reality simulation peaking into his brain and showing him an approximate visage of what he had experienced before. He was not truly back in one of the worst day's of his life...

And it was painfully obvious with the less than conspicuous absence of his mother. He remembered this day well, far too well perhaps, and his mother should still be standing behind him on his left. Not even the fairest hint of her wind was there to suggest she had ever left or been there in the first place. Was she there before? He had been too distracted by hearing his father repeat those possessed words again to know.

"And what do you think you're doing?" That same voice growled out lowly, sending a shudder up Red Son's spine that only intensified as DBK's blue glowing eyes settled on him. "Sneaking away?"

"No!" Red Son answered quickly, standing straighter and shaking his head with a forced smile. It came so easy, too easy, too fast, like he was slipping into an old habit. It was an old habit. "No, father, I-"

"Don't lie to me," DBK growled. "I don't trust anything you say. Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure time and time again, nothing but disappointment!"

He'd heard the words before, he thought he had moved past them, but as he heard his father speak down to him again he found himself repeating the past. Standing tense and clenching his fist and feeling his sharp teeth clench against his lip, threatening to break the skin with the taste of copper and there was ice flowing down his neck-

"Traitor-yes! Perhaps..." And then he remembered what was to come next, eyes widening in fear as his father turned more fully toward him and his mother wasn't there. "You thought you could deceive me? Stand against me!?"

Red Son felt himself scream at his body to move to run to shield himself to do anything but he just watched in terror as his father's not his father no he wouldn't do this fist slammed right into his face and-

He was pulling his own fist back from his face, about to send one more punch into it before he stopped himself with a gasp and a shudder. He looked around frantically, breathing heavy and panicked, no longer in the throne room of his parents but...

"Uh, what's he doing Wukong?"

He stood up straight, head reeling around and instantly recognizing the scene before him.

He was young. He was small. He was powerful, more powerful than he had been in centuries, flames burning bright under his skin in a way that felt so fake but so familiar. And he was facing Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie.

There was the soft whisper of a woman's chuckle and words he couldn't quite hear on the wind and-

"What in the world are you doing?"

He turned again, his face burning in pain before it faded as if he had never been touched. His father was standing before him again, smaller and scowling in a chef's frock.

"This was your idea, finish getting ready before the festival starts."

----------

"Uh, Kid?" Macaque repeated, his fake so fake he could see that now half smile faltering into something more genuine frustratedly confused. "Come on, talk to me. We're not going to get anywhere if you don't comu-"

"Shutup..."

"Huh?" Macaque's eyebrows raised in surprise. "What did you just say to me?"

"Shut up!" MK screamed, teeth clenched as he extended the staff into the fake monkey. Calabash or not he refused to face the man who had messed with his head so badly without getting at least one cheap shot in for revenge.

He felt a sense of satisfaction as Macaque's face twisted in pain and surprise and anger and-

Suddenly he was in the sky looking down at that nearly identical face, plus one milky white eye and scar, smirking up at him in cruel victory before a fist slammed into his stomach and pain radiated through his entire body.

It was so much like when it really happened that he almost forgot this was fake, just like everything Macaque had done before this very moment every smile and ruffle of his hair and compliment on his technique. When this happened for real his whole body burned like fire had lit through his veins in a single second and then rushed to escape immediately after and out through that spot on his back.

The Calabash didn't know how to replicate that properly. That's the only reason MK found himself able to tense and curl a fist and turn to smash the face of the shadow clone that had lead him here and-

"OW, what the hell, Bud!?" Wukong yelped as MK's fist landed in his face. "I know I'm invincible but that still smarts!" He rubbed his nose, looking up at his student with a look of genuine emotional hurt and confusion. "If you didn't wanna watch the fireworks you could have just left..."

MK ripped his hand back in shock and fear, staring at the Monkey King in confusion. He had just punched Monkey King, a fake Monkey King but still his mentor, right in the face. And to the Calabash clone it was out of nowhere and for no reason.

"I..." MK started, breathing growing heavy and fast and there was a wheeze under it as he heard a chuckle and some kind of mumble distantly.

----------

"Oh no!" Mei yelled, spinning around as she stood and glowered up at the fake visage of her ancestors. "No, I have done this already! I've proven myself long ago and I refuse to let some computer program play with my brain and use my family to make me prove myself again!"

Mei was angry. Mei was strong. And Mei lifted her blade above her head and slammed it into the wall behind her and smashed it, debris flying around her and making the fake visage around her blow away like smoke through the wind.

She smiled in victory, wide and triumphant and there was a chuckle, loud as if it was right behind her ear as she felt something not unlike hands pushing her forward and-

MK looked up at her in confusion, holding his chest as it slowly stained red from the fresh slash across his body. "Mei? What... what did I...? Why?"

There was a wall there, Mei knew there was a wall there not even a second ago. But now her best friend was falling to the ground and her sword was stained with red and her parents stood behind MK looking at her in anger and disgust. She stared in confusion and horror and she knew this wasn't real it couldn't be real and-

The food she was holding slipped from her hands as she gasped and looked around wildly, breathing heavy in confusion as Pigsy's angered expression changed to match the worried one that Tang was sending her way.

"Uh, you ok Mei?" Pigsy asked, eyebrow raising.

"You're going to require more work than the others, I see." The voice that matched the chuckle she had heard before whispered in her ear.

----------

"And you are becoming annoying," that same voice, Princess Jade Face's voice, rang through the tiny room Jin had been breaking his hands in as he attempted to escape. He couldn't hear whatever had come before that and, but he could only assume it was directed at one of the trio. "It's actually kind of depressing, watching you hurt yourself like this."

"Oh come off it," Jin hissed, rubbing his knuckles and scowling as he sat back down. "You're enjoying this."

"Hmmmmn, not really," Jade said, humming again as she typed something on the console. "You know, if you had just cooperated you could be sitting in the actual room with your brother." He voice grew cold, annoyance and frustration lining under it. "All you had to do was follow the rules."

"And what are you going to do 'bout that?" Jin asked, tapping his fingers against the floor. Ring, pinky, ring, middle, pointer. Repeat. Repeat.

"Oh, I've already done plenty," Jade continued, voice back to her neutral happy tone. "All you have to do is sit tight and maybe I will release you both to the Spider Queen aware enough for you to explain to her exactly why I had to keep you to myself. Or not. It depends on whether or not you continue to break back into your code."

Jin cursed under his breathe, scowling down at his hand as a lightning jolt of pain coursed through it and immediately eased. A warning. She'd noticed his little pattern.

"It's not really that big of a deal to me, though," she continued with a chuckle. "Everything is going exactly how I want it to. Even if you break out of there you won't be able to find your little fail safe. So don't bother trying."

She went quiet after that, and Jin listened for the tell tale sound of outside noise filtering into the Calabash through the opening she had opened to allow her voice to speak through (he was glad they never remembered to add wireless voice to this thing). And there was none. He waited a moment, sitting still.

No voice.

No lightning jolt of pain.

The door opened and Jin smirked.

Good.

She hadn't noticed the pattern he'd been drawing with the tail he had finally figured out how to control.

[peach-pops]

song and movie: i see the light from tangled || 1.4k masterlist

warning(s): light swearing 

author’s note: here’s the first 1.4k event! this request is directly based on the actual Toro Nagashi Festival in Japan so if you guys wanna read more about it, click here! maybe just maybe this is a bit ooc for bakugo but i did my best to try and stay along the lines of his character while focusing on the song! let me know if you want to be tagged to the celebration and if you guys liked it!

word count: 1.5k

lyrics: All those days chasing down a daydream. All those years living in a blur. All that time never truly seeing things, the way they were // Now she's here shining in the starlight. Now she's here suddenly I know. If she's here it's crystal clear I'm where I'm meant to go

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

Bakugo rubbed the material of the lantern between his fingers as he waited for his classmates to pass around the pen. The rest of 1-A talked amongst themselves, getting ideas on what they could write on their lantern and the possibilities seemed endless. 

Ever since Bakugo was old enough to go to the Toro Nagashi Festival, he wrote the same wish on his lantern to send down the river: to surpass All Might and become the number one hero. Of course, after the events at the Kamino Ward, he had to change his wish up slightly. 

Even though Bakugo looked disinterested, he paid close attention to what his classmates were going to write down; Sero and Kirishima gave honor to their ancestors by writing down their family name while others like Iida and Todoroki wished for their families health. It came to no surprise that Kaminari had written a wish to do well in his upcoming exams which only sent the rest of the group into a fit of giggles. 

After Uraraka had written down her wish on prosperity for her family, she passed the pen over to you and Bakugo couldn’t help but look over your shoulder as you carefully wrote something that made little sense to him; to my sun, my moon, and all my stars. 

You heard Bakugo let out a ‘tch’ underneath his breath so you looked over your shoulder and gave him a curious glance,” What? You don’t like it?”

“ It sounds like a shitty line out of a romance manga,” Bakugo cringed but in the back of his mind, he was hoping you would indulge him on the meaning,” what does it even mean?” 

Everyone knew how much of a tough guy Bakugo was to crack but somehow, you had managed to find a way for him to consider you a suitable friend and you both were okay with these set terms. In fact, you were the only one who could drag and beg Bakugo into coming along to the lantern festival to begin with. 

“ Well if you’re gonna be mean, I guess you’ll never know,” You hummed as you handed Bakugo the pen. 

Your fingers brushed against his only for a moment before he swallowed hard and yanked the pen to his chest, letting out a grumbled response as he wrote down his own wish that made you laugh. 

“ What the hell are you laughing at?”

“ Nothing! It’s just very on brand of you, that’s all,” You smiled as you read his dream over in his voice,” to become the number one hero. You’re like a broken record Katsuki! Why don’t you wish for something like everlasting peace or success for your exams like Denki?” 

“ I can pass just fine on my own and when I’m number one, I’ll make sure there’s everlasting peace or whatever the hell you said,” Bakugo retorted boldly even though your comment made him feel wary of his wish,” and don’t call me that dumbass.” 

Before you could reply back with an even more insulting nickname, a soft chime rang throughout the field where others were waiting with their lanterns. Everyone started to slowly make their way down the hill to the water’s edge and once the class found a space along the water, Todoroki started to help light everyone’s lanterns. 

Once your lantern was lit, you sat by the edge of the water and held the lantern in your lap as if you were soaking it all in. 

Bakugo said nothing but as he was getting closer and closer to getting his lantern lit, he felt something he hardly ever felt. Anxiousness. 

He had no reason to be because in his mind, this was all just some tradition he never second-guessed. For years, he had written down the same dream because even as a child, he had always wanted to be a hero. Things were different now, he still wanted to be a hero but his gut was almost telling him that it wasn’t all that he wanted. 

His hand had a mind of his own as he quickly fished out the pen that was still tucked into his pocket and crouched down to write something else along the opposite side of his first wish. He felt his cheeks heat up as he finished writing it and even though he felt himself become somewhat embarrassed, he made no attempt to cross the fresh words out. 

The anxiousness he felt faded almost instantaneously now that he was comfortable with his wish but he still didn’t hesitate to threaten Todoroki’s life if he even tried to flip the lantern to the other side to read his new wish. 

(Todoroki paid no attention to Bakugo’s threat but obeyed his wishes nonetheless since he had no intention of reading it anyway)

“ Hurry up before this lantern sets me on fire,” You urged Bakugo as he realized you were waiting for him this whole time. 

Bakugo only huffed in response but made a rather quick pace towards you and sat down beside you with his lit lantern. He did his best to keep his new wish facing his chest and away from your eyesight and you were none the wiser. 

“ Okay, ready?” You asked as Bakugo nodded, waiting for you to make the first move. 

You carefully placed your lantern in the cold water and Bakugo followed pursuit after. You let out a small gasp as you watched a part of Bakugo’s lantern start to crumble from the weight of the wrinkled side and you immediately reached out towards it. 

Bakugo almost swatted your hand away, in fear that you would see the new wish but you swatted his hand first. 

“ Oi baka! Leave mine alone-”

“ Oh shush, I’m helping you!” 

His eyes followed your steady hands as you carefully reached down into the water to straighten up his crumbled lantern and became just like new.  

“ There ya go, all better,” You said softly as you gave the lantern a helpful nudge to guide it down the slow current,” aw look, our lanterns are floating together!” 

Bakugo looked out toward the direction of his lantern and sure enough, both of your lanterns sailed slowly out towards the current of the bay. The action alone made Bakugo’s chest tighten up but your attention was cast out to the sea of lanterns.

The stars along the satin night sky reflected off the water and meshed with the city lights in the horizon, making it look like the whole sky and earth were filled with infinite stars. In your eyes, nothing could compare to the view of specks of various golden shades that rocked slowly along the dark sea but Bakugo would disagree-there was someone who could outshine the view. 

There was something about how each lantern represented a person with a dream that made Bakugo feel comfort like no other, almost as if his wish didn’t seem as obscure as someone else’s was bound to be. 

And yet, with all of the infinite lanterns that were cast out into the water, Bakugo knew there was no one else in the world who wanted their dream to come true as badly as he did. 

“ For as long as I can remember, I’ve always gone to this festival yet every time I come, it completely takes my breath away,” You sighed peacefully as Bakugo understood exactly what you meant,” I will never get used to this, isn’t it beautiful?” 

Bakugo’s eyes never left your face as he carefully studied your glowing expression, the flow of the lanterns illuminated your face in a soft light. His chest swelled with warmth and he couldn’t help but let out a soft breath,” Yeah, beautiful.” 

Bakugo didn’t mind the comfortable silence between the two of you but knowing you, it wouldn’t last long and he was right. 

“You know, I really like what you wrote on your lantern,” You said as you looked at Bakugo, who was already looking back at you,” I hope your dream comes true Katsuki.” 

Bakugo let out another ‘tch’ at his name but made no effort to correct you. 

He thought you were praising the hero wish so he only nodded. Number one hero.

He had always wanted to hear that sort of praise from people but he wasn’t even thinking of that wish. In all honesty, Bakugo was thinking of the one he had freshly written moments ago after thinking of you, one that he would take to the grave, or for however long the lantern would float along the bay for. 

“ Me too...and I hope yours comes true or whatever but I still think it’s stupid,” Bakugo replied as you smiled to yourself before nudging Bakugo’s shoulder playfully to which Bakugo nudged you back even harder,” you ever going to tell me what it means dumbass?”

You shook your head and watched as Bakugo rolled his eyes,” Nope but you’ll find out soon enough.” 

Bakugo was fine with your answer as you two both looked out to the bay, watching the infinite lanterns bob up and down across the water. 

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you thought back to Bakugo’s lantern. 

There was never a rule against taking an innocent extra peek at someone’s wish so that’s just what you had done when you adjusted Bakugo’s lantern when you swore you saw extra words that weren’t there the first time. 

“ To Y/N, my new dream.” 

taglist:  boosyboo9206

[giyuwu-san]

burn the stage — part 1 // dabi

—  A multi-chapter fic complete with your favorite indie and mainstream bops. Watch as you fall in love with the captivating guitarist of a band one drunken, perfect night. (BAND AU)

↱ PAIRING : Dabi x Female!Reader

↱ WORD COUNT : 5K

↱ WARNINGS : Mentions of alcohol, Suggestive themes, Strong language, Dabi being hot

↱ TAGS : @yusemis​ @lordexplosionsextra​ @astrrnmy​​ @basicallyberry​ @j-brielmalfoy​ (I actually remembered my taglist this time wow)

↱ AUTHOR’S NOTE : Thank you sosososo much to @kaikamikazi​ for allowing me to use her likeness for Kai’s character! Happy birthday to my favorite clown <3 everyone please wish her a happy birthday woot woot !!! And also huge huge thanks to @doughnuts-5ever​ and @jojosmilktea​ for helping me proofread/betaread this fic huhu it was a whole ass mess you guys are absolute legends tysm!!

↱ PLAYLIST

↱ SERIES  MASTERLIST 

------------------------------------------------✈

scene one; no song

          "Thousands of years ago, our ancestors looked up at the night sky and saw a field of lights." 

The aged man paced around the room, hands folded behind his back and hair graying by the roots. His side facing the blackboard on the wall, he continued;

          "None of them really knew what they were," he stopped and looked at the vast sea of students perched atop of chairs in the big room. "But, they made a fascinating observation."

You sat listening to your professor, your chin perched on your open palm, and eyes focused on the notebook that sat idly on your connected desks. 

          "They noticed that the patterns were predictable and had clear effects." The man said with some form of self-acknowledged eureka, his left hand coming up to the height of his face, index finger pointing up at the heavily-lit ceiling. "The seasons, the tides, the harvests."

          "Incredible, isn't it?" he resumed.

The man was about to continue on his tangent. But that was until a hand shot up in the air, followed by a voice. 

          "Uhm, professor?" the boy who raised his hand asked. "Aren't we supposed to be learning about chemistry?" 

Your professor looked at him, who now appeared to be slightly frightened by the blank but disrupted gaze of his teacher. 

          “Pfft—” 

You turned around to see your friend Kai, her head resting upon her folded arms. Was she seriously trying to sleep through the lesson again?

          “The one opportunity we got to sleep,” she sighed. “You just had to ruin it, brainy.”

          “Is that seriously what you call a sufficient insult?” you asked as you fully tilted your head towards her direction.

          “Wasn’t saying it to insult him.” She said casually as she massaged her head with the hand closest to her, face still partially buried within her entangled arms. “Wasn’t saying it to compliment him either though.”

You scoffed.

          “You’re unbelievable,” and at that, the darker-skinned girl turned to you with horror in her eyes.

          “Oh no,” she said petrified.

          “What?”

          “You’re being a Karen again.” 

You looked at her dumbfounded, sighing.

          “I am not being a Karen,” you started. “I’m just saying—” 

It was already too late, however, as Kai had both her hands covering her ears, blocking out your protests as well as all her other life issues. 

You sighed once more and turned your attention back to your professor, your notebook still open on your desk.

          “Your semester is practically over,” said your professor, standing idly in front of all the students, his left hand reaching up to habitually play with the fabric of his suit tie. 

          “So, let me have some me-time every once in a while," he continued.

‘You never let us have any me-time—’ is what you could feel the hoard of tired students internally screaming around you. 

The aged man cleared his throat and set along to once again resume his lengthy ramble. 

          “Where was I?” he asked himself, his feet already departing from his standstill position in the middle of the room as he started walking about once more. 

          “Ah yes, so it seemed logical that these lights shaped everything else in our lives. But with the scientific method disproving all these theories, why do people still look for meaning in the stars?”

A hand shot up in the air once again, only to be shot back down by a quick hand gesture from the professor.

          “Calm down now, I’m not done yet,” he said. 

          “Many prolific historical figures of our kind, such as the Iikes of William Shakespeare, have used the concept of astrology as a metaphorical expression, more than an actual study. Whether or not he truly believed in it, he still used the idea of astrology to create some of his most well-known epigrams to date,” he continued.

          “With lines such as; ‘These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us.’ from King Lear, ‘A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life.’ from Romeo and Juliet— I’m sure a lot of you are familiar with that one." He faced the students once more. "And my utmost favorite, ‘The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars—’” 

          “But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” 

          “—From Julius Caesar,” the professor smiled. “Well done, Miss L/N.”

Shock settled into your form, having realized that you had said that much louder than you had anticipated. Now with the burning stares of your classmates and uncontrolled laughter coming from a seatmate you used to call your best friend, you let out an exasperated sigh, head falling onto your desk and arms protecting you from the unfiltered judgment of the outside world. 

You sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time that day before finally coming out of hiding, your chin once again finding shelter in your welcoming palm. You stared down at your open notebook, observing each line and angle. Stared at the drawings of orbits clashing together with the unwelcome intrusion of jotted scientific equations. A picture of the sun as each planet aligned themselves accordingly within their rotation, along with the lengthy compound formula of 4 Bromo, 3-4 Dichloro, Ethyl Hexanoate, written briskly, and uncared for.

But despite your apparent unhappiness and deep-rooted sorrow, you lifted your head forward and listened to the lesson in front of you.

"You seriously need to loosen up," said Kai, her head faced towards you. "When was the last time you danced to music alone in your bedroom?"

You thought about it for a second.

She sighed.

          "You're so sad," she sighed once more and patted your head. "Poor baby."

She brought her hand down from the crown of your head, arm now resting on your shoulders as she brought you in closer. 

          "I'm gonna get you laid tonight," she said with conviction. You looked at her profile, absolutely bewildered.

          "I'm sorry, what?"

          "That's right," she nodded her head in content. "You're having sex tonight, just leave it to me."

          "Shouldn't we work on having me dance to music alone in my bedroom first?" you countered.

          "Even better," she grinned at you with the type of grin your primary teachers warned you about. You know, those creepy man smiles that you should run away from when faced with in a dark, ominous alley? "I'm taking you to a bar."

You could feel Mrs. Peterson screaming at you to run. 

But nobody really listened to Mrs. Peterson. Sorry.

You sighed once more at your beaming friend and nodded your head slowly.

          "Whatever," you finally said. Attention spanning back to the lecture in front of you as you turned your head. "After the class ends."

Kai smiled and leaned back into her chair, legs crossing and folded arms supporting her head from behind. She looked utterly satisfied.

          "Alright Karen," she said. 

          "My name is not Karen," you grumbled.

          "Then stop being such a Karen and let me have my fun," she closed her eyes and smiled. Totally abandoning the lecture playing out before her. Chemistry was all just a bunch of bullshit anyway. 

scene two; black eyes

Ambient lighting and muffled voices were what greeted you and Kai as you both entered the bar. The light that shone down above you cast an evanescent sheen across the tiny, hidden bar. 

You fumbled in with your red dress and heeled boots, bridging the edge of comfortable and painfully exposed. It’s been years since you've last worn a dress. 

          "Are you sure this isn't some kind of ancient speakeasy?" you asked Kai, uneasy. 

          "A speakeasy for bands and stuff sure," she shrugged. "Sadly, no dancing flapper girls, so sorry to disappoint." 

You nodded and started heading towards the bar. No matter how badly you wanted to keep up the 'holier than thou' attitude, college was rough and unforgiving. 

You ordered your drink and sat down on the stool, Kai following you shortly after as she sat beside you. 

          "I heard there's gonna be a good band playing tonight," she rings up the bartender and orders a drink. 

She takes one look at your drooping face and sighed, her hand coming up to massage your shoulder. 

          "Loosen up," she takes a sip from her drink, "just for tonight, okay?"

You sighed and nodded timidly, copying her as you took a swig of your own drink. 

          "Looks like they're almost up," she taps your shoulder. "Mr. Compress is about to introduce them." 

          "Mister wha—" she shushes you before you could continue, leaving you no other choice but to sigh and watch.

The man with the strange name took center-stage with the microphone in his hand. The crowd seemed to know who he was, for they cheered and started gathering at the front of the stage. 

          "Let's go take a closer look too," Kai stood up and started dragging you with her. "Take your drink with you."

You looked at the already half-empty glass and shrugged, opting to chug it down instead. You finished your drink and walked with Kai towards the pit of people, still confused about what exactly was going on.

The strangely named man started to speak.

          "Ladies and gentlemen," he threw his free hand in the air by his side flamboyantly. "What an incredible pleasure to have you all here tonight. I am delighted to see some familiar faces, and some new ones too." 

He grinned.

          "I'm sure a lot of you are here to relieve some stress, no?" he asked, and the crowd cheered in affirmation. The man chuckled and continued;

          "Well, I best not keep my wonderful patrons waiting then." The crowd cheered louder. "Without further delay, may I present to you, The Villain League!"

The crowd roared as four people took the stage, varied instruments at their disposal, but the one that caught your eye was the one that stood at the center, a guitarist, and a good looking one at that. 

He was mostly dressed in dark clothing, aside from the white t-shirt he wore under his long coat. His features were hidden beneath the shadow cast by the dimmed lights.

And that was when the music started.

Electric guitar blinded your senses and opened your eyes. The exhilarating sound numbed the nerves that coursed through your entire body. Every hair on your body stood on its roots, awakened by the new thrill of music.

The lights turned on to the max, and the crowd went wild. Hands flew up in the air, the drinks in the opposite limb gambling on the edge of death.

It was music like you've never heard before. 

          "Holy shit," you said to yourself, the alcohol in your system taking its effect.

The man in the middle started singing, and you gasped as you took in the rest of his features. A good portion of his face and neck were covered in burn marks, as well as the top of his torso, which then spread across his arms. You awed.

How could someone who looked so damaged be so perfect?

Your eyes watched in wonder as your ears listened with delight. You made a mental note to thank Kai for dragging you into one of the best nights of your life. 

So this is what college was supposed to be like.

You smiled, feeling the bricks fall off your shoulders. You stood straighter as your eyes opened wider, and shined even brighter. 

This is so awesome.

You threw your hands in the air and let out a scream with the rest of the crowd. Kai catches sight of this and follows along with your mania, a laugh escaping her lips.

You were enjoying the aura of absolute chaos, but nothing had prepared you the moment your eyes caught his, staring right back at you. His mouth formed a devilish smile that made all the heat rush through your body in mere seconds. 

          "The girl in the red dress," he said into the microphone. Your eyes widened in unalloyed shock as they caught sight of the mischievous glint in his own. "Come out on stage with us."

What the fuck?

The crowd cheered louder and started to look around to find who he was referring to. They soon caught sight of you, who was still calculating the odds of you being the only girl in red. 

The sea of people parted and formed a direct path from you to the stage, and you were honestly shell shocked. 

Kai laughed and cheered you on.

          "Congrats Karen, you've officially been promoted to Moses!" she cheered even louder.

          "What, I—" you sputtered out.

Kai took her left hand and smacked your back, forcing you to stumble forward.

          "Go!" she yelled at you through the howls of the crowd. "Get. Fucking. Laid!"

At that, the crowd burst into an explosion of screams. Whistles and hoots were all that was heard as your shaking legs made its way towards the stage. 

You eventually made it to the edge, and the enigmatic guitarist leaned down to help you. Grasping your hand firmly in his, he hoisted you up easily. 

          "What's your name?" he leaned into your ear as he said it, his steady voice combating all other noises, and winning. 

          "Y/N," you said right back into his ear, a shiver coursing through your body as the current situation was doing its number on your sanity.

          "Nice shoes Y/N," he said cooly, and your head started spinning.

          "Uh, thank you—"

          "Let's have a good time together," he smirked at you, who blushed madly. 

You looked over at the rest of his bandmates. A young girl with a blonde fringe manning the second electric guitar, she looked at you and grinned widely at you. Eyes smiled shut and tongue jutting out, she threw you a peace sign in welcome. 

You looked behind you and saw a strange-looking man playing both the bass and keyboard. You made eye contact with him and he smiled, only for him to completely change his expression and give you the stink-eye, much to your confusion and anxiety. 

Finally, you looked over at the drummer who had dead-looking baby blue hair; he glanced at you and nodded briefly in acknowledgment.

          "Don't mind the last two," the mysterious guitarist chuckled, "they're a lot more decent than they seem."

You nodded and smiled at him.

          "So," he started. "Care to join in on the fun?" 

You took a deep breath.

          "Okay."

It was funny how you had started with not even being able to dance alone in your room. And now here you were, dancing along with countless strangers to music you never felt before.  

scene three; ilysb

            "You're new here, right?" the man said. He was sitting across from you with his head resting on his hand. His piercing blue eyes were focused only on you. 

It had been about an hour since you stepped foot inside the hidden bar and thirty minutes since you were standing on stage with the band having the time of your life. 

You looked over to the stage and saw your drunk friend Kai singing 'I Kissed a Girl,' microphone in her hands as she belted her heart out to the cheering crowd. 

You couldn't help but chuckle, before turning your attention back to the enigmatic man staring intently at you.

          "That's not slightly creepy at all," you answered jokingly. 

The man chuckled slyly.

          "I play here almost every night," he retorted coolly. "I would have definitely remembered you if you weren't new." 

You nodded. Smooth.

          "Fuck men!" you turned around to find Kai screaming into the microphone, one hand on the microphone stand and the other on the microphone itself. You sighed at the common occurrence. 

          "Fun friend you got," the man with burn marks said, attention also brought over to your crazed friend.

You sighed and nodded.

          "I'm this close to dropping her," you said with no conviction.

He seemed to have caught on to your tone and answered accordingly.

          "But you never will," he said.

          "Yup," you nodded once more.

You looked over to him again, the alcohol in your body taking full effect.

          "Wanna get out of here?" you asked him.

He looked at you with his eyebrow raised, a small smirk playing on his lips.

          "And abandon your fun friend?" he asked you.

          "Yes," you looked at him straight in the eyes as you said it.

          "Sounds fun," he said, already standing up from his seat.

You followed suit, casting your drunk friend one last look before following the strange man out of the small speakeasy.

The cold night air greeted your body that clung tightly onto the limited warmth of your sweater jacket. You walked idly with the man standing beside you, the streets painted a dark vignette by the evening sky. The night suited him, you thought.

You let out a deep exhale which invaded the darkness with its cold color, the hues fighting until the dull white was engulfed by the overwhelming darkness of nightfall.

You looked up at the stars that were scattered across the sky, their white twinkle enrapturing the night sky with its light and color. Their light so bright that it couldn't be overthrown by the darkness of black. Instead, they were displayed up in the sky, allowed to show off their beauty with no restraints. 

          "Orion's in the sky," you observed quietly. 

The man turned over to look at you.

          "The constellation?" he asked as he too tilted his head up to watch the night sky.

          "Yeah," you nodded, "I can't find the Pleiades, though." 

Absentmindedly, your feet started moving in hopes to catch sight of the constellation. The dark-haired man watched you quizzically.

          "Do you really think moving around will make them appear?" he asked you, who was now trudging farther and farther away. He sighed and started following you.

          "There're so many buildings around," you groaned in your drunken state. "Can't a girl just see her stars when she wants to?" 

He tilted his head in slight amusement and chuckled lowly. 

          "If it's the buildings you're worried about, I know where there's a field," he said. You turned around instantly.

          "Show me this field, good sir." 

          "It's this way," he tilted his head over to the right, feet already walking towards its direction. You followed him, skipping.

You eventually were led towards an open field located on a small hill in the park. Wow, we had a park?

          "Woah," you said in wonder. Your arms flying up from your sides as you spun around the grass, hair dancing in the breeze from your movements.

The man just watched you curiously, a small smile of endearment flickering on his lips.

You let out a big sigh of contempt and threw yourself down onto the grass floor, feeling at peace as the earthly bodies embraced you. The man who led you here followed suit, leaving little to no distance between your two figures as he laid down beside you.

          "Can you see the Pleiades now?" he asked from beside you.

You looked up and examined the heavens, and your eye immediately catches the open star cluster that painted the sky. A gasp escapes your lips as you point up at the constellation you were looking for.

          "There they are!" you squealed slightly, unable to control your excitement in your drunken state.

          "Why'd you want to see them so badly?" he looked at you and asked.

          "If you catch sight of Orion, then you're most likely gonna find the Pleiades too." You started, eyes focused eagerly on the stars. "There's this whole story behind them you know, about Orion and the Seven Sisters.

          "It was said by Greek mythology that Orion fell in love with the sisters, and pined over them for 12 years. He would always chase after them in hopes that they would become his someday. But that was until one day Zeus decided to turn him and the sisters into stars. So Orion could chase them forever for the rest of eternity but never once be able to touch them."

          "Wow," he said from beside you.

          "Yeah," you said from beside him.

          "You said they were the Seven Sisters," he said.

          "Yeah?" you turned your head over to look at him, his eyes seemingly glowing under the star studded sky.

          "But I can only see six at most," he stated.

          "Oh," you turned your head back to the sky. "That's because those are the only ones visible to the naked eye. If you look through a telescope, a dozen more stars are visible."

          "Is there a story behind that, too?" he asked.

          "Yup," you stated and continued. "According to storytellers, Merope— one of the sisters, is hiding her face because she's the only one of the sisters who married a mortal and thus isn't respected for it. 

          "Her husband, Sisyphus isn't represented in the night sky either, cause he was condemned by Zeus to forever roll a stone up a hill in Hades only to watch it roll down again when he almost gets it to the top."

          "That's..." his voice drifted off, "really sad." 

You hummed in affirmation.

          "You really like astronomy, huh?" he stated. "I'm assuming you're into astrology too?"

          "Yeah," you answered.

          "So, you're some type of zodiac girl," he said. "How quirky."

You scoffed.

          "What type of music are you into?" he suddenly changed the subject, surprising you.

          "I don't listen to music that much honestly," you said, surprising him, but not showing it on his face.

          "Okay," he said. "Very quirky."

You laughed at yourself.

          "Are you okay?" he asked you jokingly, maybe the alcohol was finally starting to get to him too. "Childhood trauma? Emotional baggage? Crazy ex-boyfriend?" 

          "Traumatizing college life," you said matter-of-factly. "And also just downright not having the time to listen to music."

          "Spotify's expensive, too," you added.

          "Ever heard of a radio?" he asked.

          "Yes, but I can never concentrate on studying when music is on," you said.

          "Ah," he said in a moment of realization. "It all makes perfect sense now. What's your major?"

          "Organic chemistry," you said.

          "Yeah," he nodded. "Makes sense."

          "Kindly enlighten me then, cause I can't make sense of anything going on in my life," you said.

          "You're a young adult suffering from the expectations and academically-focused constructs of our society," he said.

          "Damn," you started. "You're right." 

You sighed and placed your attention back at the azure before you.

          "The moon's crying," you stated.

          "What?" he asked, confused.

          "The moon feels sad," you answered vaguely.

          "The moon is sad," he stated beside you, eyes now focused onto the heavenly body in question. "The moon's just a broken planet that needs the sun to make it shine."

          "Just because it needs help doesn't mean their shine is any less beautiful," you said back.

A long silence passed between the two of you, he looked at you, whose focus was still set onto the night sky. Whatever had you so enchanted by them, he might never know, but as he watched your features bloom with the ethereal sparkle of night, the twinkle in your eyes matching— no, outshining that of the stars you looked so fondly upon, he just sighed softly.

          "Whatever you say, zodiac girl."

scene four; still with you

You were walking home with him in the cold night air, wind dancing softly around both of your figures as the gentle shrill tickled your senses. 

It was colder than usual, you thought. But maybe that was just from the thrill of not spending your nights like you usually did, alone in your bedroom studying a topic you couldn't care less about. You sighed.

When was the last time you were able to lay down on your bed listening to music?

You were grateful for Kai, who you just realized had been abandoned at the bar she forced you into. You prayed for your survival the following day. You say that, but in the end, you were nonetheless thankful for giving you a college experience other than cramming every day.

You thought about what you would have been doing if you weren't forced into the bar, and laughed at the predictability. 

You finally made it to your front door.

          "Goodnight," the blue-eyed man said to you. 

          "Yeah," you said back. "Thanks for walking me home."

He nodded and watched as you made your way over to your front door.

You stopped.

You didn't know if it was the alcohol in your system, the cold night air, the thrilling atmosphere of spontaneity, or all of the above. But right now, you weren't in the mood to answer any multiple-choice questions.

You wanted to live for once. You wanted to feel anything else other than the dread of an upcoming deadline or relief after a grueling exam. 

For once, you wanted— needed to be free of the expectations and academically-centered constructs of society. Constructs that you never wanted to question until now.

Even if it was only for tonight, you wanted to do the thing you wanted to do. 

Even if it turns into a mistake, you would gladly take it for a few minutes of freedom.

You turned around and ran towards the man whose names you realized you didn't even know. But you were too far gone to be stopped. 

Your hands found the side of his face and pulled your faces close, eyes meeting and lips almost touching. You breathed nervously.

          "Can I kiss you?" you asked suddenly.

Shock and confusion flickered before his eyes but disappeared just as quickly.

          "Sure—" he said, and your lips finally connected.

The kiss lasted for mere seconds until you pulled away, flustered and drunk and confused.

What were you doing?

You turned back around to enter your home and scream at yourself.

How could you just throw yourself at him like that?

But suddenly, his hand grabbed your arm and pulled you back towards him, connecting your lips once more. You could have sworn you melted.

The kiss lasted much longer, lips moving against one another and breaths being mixed together in the cold night outside your apartment building. Your hands in his hair and his arms around your shaking frame.

You pulled away to catch your breath, your air puffing up in the chilly twilight.

You pulled onto the sleeve of his jacket and led him towards your apartment, rushing past the other tenants and employees, you quickly got on the elevator where more kisses were exchanged in a drunken haze.

The elevator doors opened, and the two of you rushed out with you guiding him to your door.

You hurriedly put in your key, hands slightly shaking, the door opens and you hastily go inside.

He comes into your small apartment and closes the door with his foot, the door meeting the frame with a soft thud. He pushes you against the wall and your lips meet once again.

You didn't know how much time had passed with his lips moving against yours and hands roaming across your body, the contact sending both heat and shivers to course through your entire being. 

His lips moved to your jaw, slowly making its journey down to your neck. Your breath hitched. 

Some more time passed with low moans and heavy breathing coming from the both of you, now laying on your twin-sized bed half-naked.

You looked out the window beside your bed and saw the stars and moon staring back at you, illuminating your figures in its magical glow. 

It was like time didn't exist when you were engulfed in his arms, his lips peppering your body in kisses and bite marks causing you to moan softly. You wanted to know what he was thinking, what he was feeling, with the moonlight shining softly on his features.

Your hands found themselves buried in his soft hair, time passing by faster as more clothes were being discarded around you.

          "Y/N..." he said your name softly. His light voice passes by you, sending shivers down your spine. 

Your breath hitched. Having no name to call out to, you whimpered instead. Your bodies intertwined together under the dim light of your apartment, and your heart taking timid steps towards him, tripping and falling deeper and deeper. 

It was colder than usual, the low-pitched hum of the air conditioner you forgot to turn off comforting you from afar. Your body shivered more, not used to the sensations. It felt good, it felt really good, but there was something about it that pained you and made you want to fall apart. 

The unfamiliarity of the pleasure and sweat clouded your mind and made you think back to the times when you were studying instead. This was far different than the dull absence your mind feels when reviewing all your lessons. But even then, thinking back to the simple emotions that came from your textbooks and notes, maybe these simple feelings were special to you too.

The night progressed further, and time was lost once and for all in the midst of your shared pleasure, the night turning darker as the sparkling sky glowed onto your sweaty figures. 

You both reached your climax and breathed heavily, eyes meeting and foreheads touching in what seemed like a hazy afterglow, both your minds fogged and judgments clouded. 

Your hand delicately went up to touch his cheek, his eyes shimmering in the glow of the night sky. He looked at you with the faintest smile. Underneath it was painted the most beautiful purple, his broken and damaged face sending your heart into a fit of shooting stars. 

His body collapsed next to you on the small bed, arms encasing you tightly against his warm body.

You looked over to the window beside your bed. The sun was slowly rising, and the moon began to fade away into the brightening sky. 

You felt your eyes slowly closing, finally giving in to the sleep you denied yourself all night.

Goodbye moon.

And just as the moon left your sky that February sunrise, so did the man who slept next to you that very next day.

[omgkalyppso]

Honeyed Words

How many fics have this title? Probably a million. I wrote something featuring @esaari‘s tes breton oc Philip, and my imperial oc Oretia. Enjoy!

.

The grass was cold and wet from vestiges of the midnight frost puddling under the weight of the midday sun. Summer at Winterhold. The worst possible time to be a tome, or scroll, or a visitor. Inside the College, papers were kept magically dry and well kept, but as soon as you stepped one foot into the city, everything wilted with the humidity, including the people.

The citizenry was more amenable to the mages and their initiates since the reconstruction, after the civil war, but that did not forestall all of their prejudices, Philip had noticed. They phrased their suspicions of foreigners, of which he was no longer considered, as warnings of unstable mountaintops, roads that were thin with ice and awaiting unwary travelers, and beasts that roamed beyond their hibernal caves, but he heard the truth behind every bitter courtesy. ‘You are as unwelcome by the land as by our hospitality,’ they cried.

It was why they still lacked a dedicated blacksmith, a tanner, a wheelwright, fishermen — and Nine help that poor dentist who’d tried to move in four months past.

There were new bodies to fill the houses that had been built — carpenters and farmhands, tailors and midwives, but it was no wonder they still had to rely so heavily on the summer caravans.

The largest of the year was present now, the one that circled from Windhelm to Whiterun and Dawnstar, leaving Winterhold with both the last selection from Windhelm and the benefit of what the caravan had collected on its journey, just before they finished their circle and headed back home. The gamut of their venture was nearly complete, and so Philip felt triply insulted by the price being demanded of him to carry scroll and missive — which included a painstaking transcription of an extremely valuable book — to the new astrologer in Windhelm.

“Thirty gold is more than fair,” he insisted. “Twenty would cover a gold a day for the service, and fourteen was the cost last year.”

“Thirty might be fair,” replied the nord man, who was clearly dealing with other problems — but none of them were Philip’s, “but eighty is the cost.”

“Set by you, unreasonably.”

“Are you calling me unreasonable, my lord?” The title had been wrong, but Philip’s choice of words had been fumbling. He needed this, it was important.

“I misspoke. Surely, you are a man who knows his worth and his services, and so, you must know, that it is not up to the College to champion the losses of your caravan. You are headed to Windhelm anyway. I will offer forty, far more than you’d require.”

The nord nodded to someone standing outside of Philip’s periphery, and his shoulders tensed. The temptation to invoke others to grant weight to his title and his person was present, for he was on good terms with his Thane and his Jarl, and Skyrim’s champion of the war; but so too was he Archmage now, and whatever his personal insecurities, knew that he demanded his own respect. He shrugged his elbow towards the person who approached from his side, striking them, if lightly.

“I am not some common miscreant. Do not look to demean me. There are other couriers.”

“Then find one,” replied the nord.

Philip looked to the imperial woman at his side as she spoke and frowned in surprise. She was hobbling a little, unsteady on her feet, and not the manner of muscle he’d expected the nord to be summoning.

“And I wasn’t hired to help with customer service, Herknir. This doesn’t look like a case of banditry.” Her accent was thick and southern, and Philip flinched to look at her more directly as despite her words she still laid a hand upon him — but it was gentle, so much so that he couldn’t even feel it through his robes, on his upper arm, a signal to wait and not a reprimand. Philip took a step away from her anyway, disinterested in her reassurance.

“Take the illustrious Archmage for a walk, Oretia. I can smell the enchantments on him, and I won’t risk the safety of our men to the whims of secret, magical documents without collateral.” Philip blanched, he hadn’t expected Herknir to be thinking of anything beyond what he could get with the money. Herknir pointed a finger at him, to further cement his point, “If it were a message from one of your initiates back to their parents or their sweetheart in Windhelm, then that is one service; but you should know that your time is worth more, and you should be prepared to pay more in the future. Cool your head. Try Tilly’s honey-pops, and come back to me when you’re willing to talk business.”

“Sorry about him,” Oretia sounded exasperated, and Philip had to wonder if she had felt suitably chastised by Herknir over the course of her time with the man, as he did now, sent for a walkabout like a petulant child — though one who had been flirting with the crackle of magic on the edge of his fingers. “And me, I had assumed you were a nobleman. I should not have placed my hand upon you.”

“It is nothing,” Philip assured her, dismissing the perceived insult with a smile — tickled by the idea that she would more readily lay her hands on a Thane. They wove their way through a crowd, where the locals parted naturally by his presence. There was nowhere for Oretia to hide her stumbling.

“But perhaps I owe you an apology? Did I set you so off-balance?”

“Oh!” she laughed. “No, I— My legs are sore. I’d spent the last four days climbing up and down your mountains.”

Philip snorted, infected by his companion’s good humor. “Whatever for?”

She sighed, smiling, wistful. “To see my sister. It had been a few years and she’s settled up there. I thought that, seeing her would make it easier to accept, but now I’m less sure than ever about leaving; but you don’t need to hear about that. What was Herknir so upset about? Do you really have secret, magical documents?”

The way she exaggerated the word was light, teasing, and free of ill-will Herknir had managed to fit into the word.

“I—” Philip scoffed, “I suppose I do. The documents themselves aren’t magical, but few things that leave the College can be described otherwise.”

“Secretive?” Oretia prompted.

“For certain,” Philip assured her.

She seemed to take a measure of him then, a once over with suspicious eyes. Philip wondered what she saw.

“I could leave you now,” she suggested, tilting her head. “I rather doubt you need my company.”

Philip thought of the trader and patrons, and wondered whether for the moment she might need his. He wondered if she was asking for the freedom of privacy or to socialize with a friend from the caravan, but outside the College and inside Winterhold, his friends felt ever fewer, and Oretia had been friendly enough as to prove distracting from his other worries.

“There are a great many things I don’t need, but enjoy regardless. Of course, you’re free to go, and I’ll make my way back to Herknir in due time, but if you’d like to point me towards those honey-pops…?”

Philip felt any lingering stress melt off his shoulders when Oretia brightened.

“They’re very sweet, but delicious,” she insisted, directing them now with purpose. “There are some with raspberries caked in which are wonderful in tea, but they’re just as fine as a little delight.”

Philip bought ten for a gold piece, a strange assortment of things to pocket, even wrapped in wax paper as they were, but Oretia was right, they were good, as the two of them found a bench shielded by the cold of the sea, but still hidden by the warmth of the sun, as they each enjoyed one of the candies for a few silent seconds.

There was something about the way others seemed to have more time for trysts, and he wondered whether another person might take this time to proposition their companion. The pair of them with lips flush and spit slick from their choice in dessert, people might even think they had done something elicit when they returned to the main road. The air was thick and the blossoms were sweet, and Philip wondered whether he’d simply been surrounded by familiar faces for too long, that the blush upon a stranger’s cheeks would send his mind so far from his original intentions. He pat himself down, confirming the location of his missives, before plucking the honey-pop from his lips and assuring Oretia, “Thought I’d dropped something.”

He sighed, resting his hands on his knees. “Tell me about your sister? Might I know her?”

“No,” Oretia answered quickly. “Wylla Cosmotius — err, Wylla Ienith now, I suppose. She might have spent some time here, but wouldn’t have made a name for herself. Found the Shrine of Azura by accident, and then spent a few years “adventuring,” or whatever you might call it, with the priestess, to whom she’s now married.”

“Cosmotius?” Philip echoed. “‘Of the stars?’”

“Mm,” Oretia hummed in agreement. “A name I imagine Wylla was glad to be rid of. Pretentious ancestors. Not that the title of Archmage is any less assuming.”

“I?” Philip hesitated. “I didn’t choose that. And it’s practical, the position is what the title says, I oversee other mages, and am one myself.”

“I didn’t say it was wrong, I said—”

“You implied it was pretentious.”

“And you became defensive,” Oretia observed, amused. “Is my good opinion so important?”

“As important as any other,” Philip said, dismissive, shrugging. “There are a lot of things said about The Archmage, meaning both myself and my predecessors. I do my best to improve those rounds of gossip.”

“I apologize, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know.”

Oretia bumped a knee against him. She went on, “My sister went through a lot, as a mercenary and … well as an imperial in Skyrim during the civil war. When I was a child I would think of how one day marriage might separate us, but I hadn’t expected to be lost to her when she needed me before that. To be treated as a guest, and not as family, when I would see her again. I worry that she could die on that mountain, and if I were to be in Windhelm, I should never know.”

“And so you’re thinking of staying?” Philip remembered. “Do you ply a craft? There are still incentives to settle in Winterhold.”

“The city is known for surviving winters without me. I don’t know how useful I could be, or how interested people would be in buying leathers, or how abundant the game is year round for the purpose of gathering supplies. I feel I don’t know much of anything lately.”

“If it’s any consolation I find that to be more true with each passing year.”

“Even for the Archmage?”

“Especially for the Archmage,” Philip groaned. “There’s much to learn and more to discover. That’s why I need to see my post sent to Windhelm.”

“I could take it,” Oretia suggested.

“As a reason not to stay?” Philip inquired, furrowing his brow.

She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t just stay all at once. I have employment and friends and possessions. But I might come back. Settle. It wouldn’t hurt to be owed a favor by the Archmage.”

He hesitated, surprised and unsure. Philip wondered whether he could get her in trouble with Herknir, and whether she was even trustworthy to begin with.

“I couldn’t make a pact like that,” he said quickly, in regret.

“I’ll take the fourteen gold?” Oretia offered. “And no favor.”

“Thirty then,” Philip suggested. “And maybe dinner, if you return?”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Guardian of creatures; AU! Queen x oc female x reader Chap. 11

*Author’s note*

Well this got done within a night shift of writing lol but now we discover the TRUE mythology of the Wizards in this story. I also hope you all enjoy the face cast I’ve picked out for you all, I know some of you are gonna FLIP OUT!! So enjoy this chapter folks and until the next update :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@queendeakyy​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

@geek-and-proud​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@kinole009x​

@wormzteef​

@glitter-at-the-panic​

Chapter 11,

The Truth

__________________________________________________________-

*3rd Person POV*

Serafina and Balthazar walked side by side along the desert as the rain continued to softly pour down on top of them.

“Why didn’t you tell us that you were—the Balthazar when you first met us?”

“I don’t usually give out that information freely.” He answered using the Egyptian’s actual voice.  It was more softer compared to his original voice but it still held a commanding tone to it.

“Also this body……this clearly isn’t your human body. Are you possessing this poor man?”

“He volunteered it freely all those centuries ago when I went to find you and John. Plus I have to keep my true self hidden. As I’m sure you remember that the Sorcerer Supreme can sense every living creature on Earth. And ghosts give out the strongest power force known to our realm. If Grindelwald saw me freely moving about in the world, all hell would break loose.”

“That is true.” She muttered.

“We’ve arrived.” Balthazar soon said as he stopped. Serafina stopped beside him and the two of them stood on top of a semi-high (around 3-4ft) rock wall which stood over more desert.

“You woke me up in the middle of the night just to bring me out further into the desert?” Serafina sassed at the great Wizard.  He softly chuckled and said with a sigh.

“Oh you even have his sarcastic nature.”

“Whose sarcastic nature?”

“Close your eyes dear one.” Serafina closed her eyes before feeling 2 fingers press against each side of her temples and soon Balthazar’s real voice spoke in her head.

‘Over a thousand years ago the world of Sorcerers was a very different place. Instead of one Wizard ruling over all others, all of us lived and helped serve under the 3 great apprentices of Merlin.’

“This was the story we were taught on our first day of school. The history of Wizards.”

‘Indeed. While each wizard and witch lived in their own countries, all Sorcerers were considered equals and called a special sacred place known as the Garden of Merlin, home. Now—open your eyes.’ Serafina opened her eyes and she was greeted with an amazing sight.

Nothing but pure green surrounded her, the sky was just shining it’s dawning colors of pink and blue as the sun continued to rise higher into the sky.  She stood up on a hill and saw wildflowers growing as far as she could see in all various colors and types, trees so big she’d swore they’d brush against the clouds in the sky.

“Did we just time travel?” she turned and saw Balthazar as his true self.  He now stood roughly about John’s height, maybe a couple inches taller.  His ghostly eyes stared at Serafina as he told her.

“There’s too much to see and so little time. Try not to ask too many questions.” With that he walked deeper into the forest.  Serafina ran behind him and when she caught up to him, she looked around the forest.  

Listening to the frogs and birds bring the forest to life, squirrels scampering around the tree branches and deer along with other forest creatures doing whatever it was they do.

“This is where your family was born. Behold.” Balthazar pushed back a shrub and soon they saw a group of wizards all talking amongst one another, children playing games with either one another or with their parents.

“But won’t you disrupt the time stream by being here?”

“No. Because this is just a vision. No one can see nor hear us.” Serafina looked out watching everyone all happy and smiling at one another. Nothing like she had seen before with sorcerers of different nationalities and skin colors truly living like brothers and sisters.

“Hang on you said this is where my story began? That’s not true at all. My family didn’t come around till after the fall of the 3 apprentices.”

“Not true.” He immediately said to her.  She looked at him confused. “You see that little girl over there? Who does she remind you of?” he pointed towards a young girl with long brown hair and blue eyes.

Playing alongside her was a Hispanic man with brown hair, warm brown eyes and a mustache over his upper lip while at his jaw a stubble of a beard was forming.  He wore an elegant golden wizard robe and watched with pride and a warm smile as he saw this young girl practicing her magic.

“She…..she almost looks like me.”

“That’s because she is your ancestor. Wanda Arya Black. And that man she’s with is my brother Archimedes.” Serafina’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped.

“Archi—Archimedes?! As in Archimedes the Wise?! That Archimedes?” she turned to Balthazar.

“Yes is there an echo in here?” wow he was definitely John’s ancestor.  He cleared his throat and said, “He was the only one out of the three of us to take on an apprentice. As the first muggle-born witch she showed prose and potential, so Archimedes took her in as his ward as well as her teacher.”

“But there was never an apprentice in the legend. Balthazar no offense but I’ve been taught your story throughout my entire life. Why did you bring me here?”

“Because you don’t know our story. Come with me.” He walked away leaving Serafina to stare at her ancestorial grandmother as well as the 3rd great apprentice of Merlin.  As she watched the two of them walk away, Serafina turned and followed in the direction Balthazar went.

Day soon turned to night as they kept walking to another part of the garden.  As they stopped, they spotted 3 figures sitting at a clearing looking up at the moon and the stares in the night sky.  Serafina obviously recognized the two men because she was standing right next to him now.

The two men were Archimedes and Balthazar (back when he was alive).  A woman was also with them.  She wore a long, short-sleeved black dress and had long wavy brown hair.  She was around their age and she was sitting upon a rock beside inbetween the two men.

“It’s you guys. And that woman, is that—”

“Shh! Pay attention now.” Balthazar told her.  They turned back towards the three young apprentices and soon they heard Archimedes speak up.

“I know that I was chosen to be his wisdom and destined to teach future young ones of our ways but I—don’t think I’m ready just yet.”

“There’s no way we could ever feel ready for this. I mean how do you think I feel about being the next Sorcerer Supreme?” asked Balthazar.

“Some help you are.” Archimedes scoffed out a laugh.

“I’m not finished!” Balthazar stated.

“I think what cheekbones is trying to say is, is that we’ll be fine. Merlin has never steered us wrong before my brothers. We are all ready for this. And we’ll always have each other for when things get hard, right?” Morgana said as she got off the rock and placed her hands on each of her brother’s shoulders.

“Right.” Balthazar agreed with a strong nod.

“Right.” Archimedes however had a slight hesitant tone to his voice but the smile on his face fooled the other two.  Morgana let out a yawn and Balthazar said.

“I think we’ll go ahead and retire for the evening.”

“Goodnight. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Archimedes said. As Balthazar and Morgana flew off, together (Balthazar using his magic to fly while Morgana summoned her broom).

“Cheekbones? Really Morgana?” Balthazar asked offensively.

“C’mon Balthazar, you’ve got to admit you have sharper cheekbones than even our Master.” Morgana teased back.  The two of them continued to banter with each other till they were out of sight.

Archimedes softly chuckled and shook his head before growing solemn again and looked back up at the moon.

“You see…….at the time I didn’t realize that while Archimedes was ready to take his place as the Wisdom of Merlin, he wasn’t happy.” Balthazar explained to Serafina.

“You guys have the most famous story in all of Wizard lore, what was it that could make him happy?”

“A friend of yours.” They turned back around and after a little while a female voice spoke up.

“Are they gone master?”

“They’re gone.” He said.  Soon coming out of the shrubs was Wanda.  She was older, now the same age as Serafina and she could see for herself that she looked almost identical to her ancestral grandmother.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep him away much longer.” She suddenly shrieked as someone lifted her up and spun her around.

“Well then don’t make me stay away so long next time!” Soon coming into the light of the full moon was none other than Roger Taylor himself.

Serafina couldn’t believe it!  She knew Roger had been around since the creation of the seas but he actually was there before the fall of the 3 apprentices of Merlin? He knew Archimedes the wise personally as well as her ancestral grandmother?! Was that why he seemed to flirt with her cause she reminded him of Wanda? And why didn’t he ever mention it before?

“How can I survive without my favorite witch and wizard?” Roger said as he nuzzled into Wanda’s neck affectionately.

“We’re sorry my friend, we just don’t……don’t want Morgana and Balthazar to—” Archimedes said as he pulled Roger away from his apprentice and gave the Nokken a brotherly embrace.  Roger separated from Archimedes and looked at him confused.

“You—you mean to tell me that Roger. My Roger knew Archimedes as well as my infinite great grandmother!? So what were he and Wanda friends like we are? Or—”

“Archimedes and Wanda both cared for their brother and sister wizards. But the beings they both could be truly happy with, were the Magical creatures.” Balthazar explained to Serafina.

“I just don’t understand why you won’t tell them you don’t want to do this anymore? What will you do tomorrow when Merlin crowns you the Wise?” Roger asked.

“I’ll go through with it. It’s been destined that I become his Wisdom after he passes on so—I will.”

“And then what you’ll forget about all the creatures we’ve helped? Forget about me?” Wanda said.

“No! That will never happen! Querida you know I’ll always love you.” Archimedes said as he cupped Wanda’s cheeks in his hand, stroking her cheekbones with his thumbs.

“Right. You say you love her, but you don’t want your fellow wizards to know what you both have been building! Sure we get it!” Roger huffed as he took Wanda back into his arms.

“This duty was chosen for me at birth what else am I supposed to do?! I don’t have a choice Roger.”

“You weren’t born to serve a purpose. You were born to live your life. You always have a choice.” Roger said.

“He’s right Master. Think of what we’ve worked so hard to build. Do you really want that to go down in flames? I don’t have the power to convince the Wizard council to keep what we’re trying to do secure. I need you. They need you.” Archimedes brushed a strand of Wanda’s hair out of her face and placed a hand onto Roger’s shoulder.

“Come on. This way now.” Balthazar guided Serafina away from the three of them and the two of them walked to another part of the garden.

The sun slowly started to rise but already in Serafina’s mind, dozens of questions were buzzing around her head.  She soon saw Balthazar stop beside a tree and she ran up to catch up to him.

“Where is he?!” Morgana’s voice snapped.  “Sorcerers from across the world are out there waiting for our coronation!”

“We’ve searched everywhere. But no one’s seen him ma’am.” Said a young blonde wizard.

“Well look again! He could’ve been captured or-or killed!” Morgana snapped.

“Lady Morgana! Lady Morgana!” soon a young witch with ginger hair came running up.  She had freckles decorated all over her face and bright green eyes. “I have news about Lord Archimedes.”

“Thank Paracelsus. Where is he?”

“He and his apprentice Wanda left with a creature known as a Nokken. He said to tell you that he and Wanda are safe and not to worry.”

“Left with a Nokken? For what?”

“It seems that he—” she went quiet.  She cleared her throat and continued hesitantly. “He said he had a greater calling. Than staying here, ma’am.” At hearing this, Morgana went silent.  Slowly her face contorted to anger as she sneered softly.

“You said a Nokken right? They’re like sirens yes? It tricked them both and then kidnapped them.”

“No. My Lord Arch—”

“I AM MORGANA LE FEY! MERLIN’S CHOSEN LAWKEEPER!! I DECIDE WHAT’S TRUE!! Where did it take them!?” she snapped with pure rage at the young witch.

“He—they didn’t say.” She said fearfully.

“No matter. I’ll find them one way or another.” Morgana growled lowly.

Balthazar sighed heavily with solemn.  He then turned to Serafina and warned her.

“This next scene won’t be pretty.” He walked ahead.  As Serafina passed over the tree, she was greeted with a gruesome sight.  Hundreds upon thousands of sea creature corpses lay across the land.

From mermaids, to sirens, Nokks to Kelpies.  Every sea creature known to mankind could be seen. Their bodies pale and their eyes soulless with death.

“Morgana declared war between us and the sea creatures. Accusing Roger of seducing both Archimedes and his apprentice and demanding retribution. It resulted in a massacre on a scale never seen before in Wizard history until two other occasions.” Balthazar explained as he and Serafina slowly walked over the corpses of the poor sea creatures.

“Me and Freddie.” Balthazar nodded solemnly.  They arrived at seemed to be the end of the garden. “Heartbroken at his apprentices fall into darkness; with his final breath, Merlin arranged the meeting between the four of them to meet at the sacred, neutral ground known to all creatures.” Balthazar once again pushed the shrubs away and Serafina soon saw Roger, Wanda, Archimedes, and Morgana standing in a landscape that she knew all too well.

“It’s—my home.” She whispered in awe as well as shock.

“I’ve come as Merlin decreed. Now give them back, and all of this can be over.” Morgana took a step when Roger, who was now in his full Nokken form guarding Archimedes and Wanda, snarled as his gills flared angrily.

“Stay back! They came here to talk! That’s all!”

“Please sister stop this. I can’t give you what you want.” Archimedes pleaded.

“That’s not true. You’re our brother!” Morgana tried to reason with him.

“Yes. You and Balthazar have been my brother and sister. You both will always be my brother and sister. But our journey together has come to an end.”

“You’re—abandoning us? For what purpose? What purpose is greater than being with your own family?” Archimedes swallowed his tears and said as he looked directly at Morgana.

“The protection and safe security of all Magical creatures. So please, let them live in peace.”

“There is no peace without you Archimedes! You belong with your own kind. With Sorcerers. With us.” Morgana pleaded.  Archimedes turned his head and refused to look Morgana in the eye.  She took another step before looking towards Wanda now.  “Wanda, you know this is the way. Please child come with me.” Roger’s claws dug deeper into the ground as his fangs grew longer.

“I said….STAY BACK!!” then like the animal he truly was, he launched himself at Morgana, pinning her down and snarled down at her.

Morgana’s gagging echoed in the night as Roger began to choke her to death before he felt ready to deliver the final blow.  He wasn’t just doing this for his Sorcerer friends but he also lost all his best friends and family to this witch.

She cause in a complete genocide against the sea and now he was going to have his revenge.

“Roger stop it what are you doing!?” Wanda exclaimed.

“SHE’S A MONSTER WANDA!! She’ll keep hunting you both. Just like she hunted my people! I. Have. To end this!” Morgana continued to choke as she tried to get Roger off of her but he was too strong for her.

“Roger please listen to me! I know she’s slaughtered your people but—” Archimedes started off.  “If you kill her now, you will be no better than she was. We—we can’t bear to see you……”

“Please Roger let Lady Morgana go! For us.” Wanda pleaded as tears formed in her eyes.  Roger looked at his friends with helpless eyes but when he looked down at Morgana, his eye grew hard and filled with hatred.

But he knew they were right.  If he killed the high witch now, he’d not only have to go into hiding but he’d also be consumed by revenge.  Soon enough what would stop him from killed all other sorcerers? Including Wanda and Archimedes who have shown him nothing but kindness and love. Something his kind never truly understood, until he met them.  He turned back towards them and said softly.

“Only for you both.” He released Morgana and crawled over towards them.  Morgana let out a series of coughs as she slowly raised herself off the ground. Archimedes pressed his forehead against Roger’s and whispered.

“Thank you my friend.” Roger then turned to Wanda who immediately hugged him and kissed his blue/grey scale cheek.  “Sister Morgana I—”

“SANGUINE MALICE!!” Morgana cried out.  Wanda pushed Roger away and took the spell head on. She stumbled backwards as she clenched her stomach with one arm and held her hand to her mouth.  Wanda grunted and groaned before she suddenly vomited out blood.

Serafina watched with horror as she was experiencing déjà vu. For that spell was the very same spell that was used on her by John’s own mother.

“WANDA!!” Both Roger and Archimedes exclaimed fearfully. Roger quickly phased back into his human disguise and caught Wanda as she collapsed and proceeded to keep coughing and vomiting out blood.  Her eyes dripping out bloody tears as they slowly went red.  Her coughs and gagging now pierced the air.

Archimedes joined alongside Roger and took the young witch’s face in between his hands.

“She-she wasn’t the target. It was for the Nokk. But if a witch is willing to die for a monster, then she’s no different!”

“No. No, no, Wanda. Wanda, Wanda hey, hey, hey querida por favor. Por favor, stay with us. Stay with me.” Wanda slowly lifted her bloody hand towards Archimedes’ face and tried to speak, but all that came out were haunting gurgles.  “Shhh, shhh, shhh. Save your strength my darling girl. Shhhh, shhh.”

“Please Wanda just hold on. Archimedes will heal you just hang on we’ll get you help. Just please hold on for us. I love you so much my soulmate.” Roger pleaded as he stroked through her hair.

Slowly her head became limp as her gurgling ceased and her arm fell to the ground, leaving a bloody sweep across Archimedes’ right cheek.

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! No!” Roger pleaded and begged but it was too late.  Wanda Arya Black was gone.  “NOOOOO!!!!” Roger roared out in heartbroken agony and wept over her corpse. Archimedes too couldn’t hold his tears back as he pressed his forehead to Wanda’s and his tears fell upon her face.

When Roger slowly turned his head towards Morgana, his blood boiled with more rage than ever.

“You’ve killed one of your own!” He went to charge towards Morgana but a hand stopped him from moving any further.  Roger looked down and saw that Archimedes had stopped him. Before he could snap, Roger’s anger suddenly turned to fear as he sensed a sudden spike of power rising within Archimedes.

The wizard slowly stood up and Morgana stared at her brother in fear.

“Archimedes?” she softly spoke his name.  Suddenly she felt something beginning to choke her.  She dropped her wand as her hands went up to neck, trying to feel what it was that was choking her but she felt nothing but her own skin.  The sky grew dark, the wind softly picked up and even the moon went dark.  It was then Archimedes spoke in a low, haunting chant.

By the Guardian of all creatures

I give my voice to the Seers.

Soon even the moon itself grew black till it practically seemed to have disappeared completely.  Archimedes began to glow a bright white color as his lower half changed and morphed into a long snake-like tail.  

It soon came towards Morgana as it now revealed that a tail was now choking her.  Coils also formed around Wanda’s body protectively while Roger fell to the ground and submitted in fear, for he knew just what was coming.  

Suddenly from Archimedes’ lips not only did he speak but a thousand other voices both male and female came out of him.

“FOR YOUR CRIMES ON THESE SACRED GROUNDS, YOUR SOUL WILL KNOW NO PEACE! NOT FOR YOU OR YOUR DESCENDANTS!!” Soon Archimedes’ upper-half grew and grew till he stood well over the trees themselves.

His eyes now glowed pure gold with a white slit as the voices continued to speak through Archimedes.

“EVERY DESCENDANT YOU GIVE BIRTH WILL BE MARKED WITH SUFFERING. AND WE, SHALL BE YOUR DEATH IN EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM. SO SAYS THE NAGA, THE SEERS OF ALL. THE GUARDIAN OF CREATURES CONDEMNS YOU. MORGANA THE TRAITORUS!”

Morgana had never in her life felt such fear surge through her body.  Her brother had surrendered his very being to the most powerful and dangerous creatures known to the supernatural world.  The eyes closed and with a bright light, all three of them disappeared, leaving her cowering on the ground as the wind blew her hair around her face.

Her expression frozen in pure terror.

From the bushes Balthazar looked down solemnly while Serafina was just in shock.

“None of this—was taught to us at school.”

“That’s because Morgana obliviated the entire Wizard community of what really happened that night, told her own version of the tale. And from there she made Morgana’s law, the execution and hunting of all magical creatures, out of her hate and fear. Years after I became Sorcerer Supreme, and saw for myself what happened that night thanks to the help of Freddie Mercury himself, I exposed her for the coward she really was. But when you obliviate an entire community, there is only so much you can do to rewrite certain parts of history without dire consequences. And her laws and teachings would soon make their way to my bloodline and the massacre of the Naga soon commence.”

Soon the forest changed to the very day the Naga genocide happened with Thomas Riddle Deacon was Sorcerer Supreme.  All of the Nagas surrounded them before the vision went black as Balthazar choked out sadly.

“I did my best to warn him, but—it wasn’t enough.” Soon the two of them were back in the real world.  Balthazar in his vessel’s body, a broken expression on his face as his head lowered in sorrow.  “Archimedes has been missing since that night and Morgana’s law continues to be enforced. That’s why at the end of every Sorcerer Supreme reign they plan, target and exterminate every living creature.”

“You mean Archimedes—is alive?” Balthazar nodded sadly. “This whole time?! So why hasn’t he been protecting these creatures?”

“He renounced his claim to it. So their only hope is for the next chosen one to take the mantel. That’s why Freddie also chose you along with John.”

“What?”

“You are Wanda’s descendant. You are destined to be the next Guardian of Creatures. If you don’t, the cycle will only continue. Archimedes will stay hidden, Morgana’s law will remain, and Sorcerers will continue to kill till only they are the supreme beings. That’s why we want you to help us end it.”

“I’m—sorry Balthazar. That’s too much even for me.” Serafina sat down along the wall and said as she held her legs to her chest. “I’m not a Guardian or a descendant of anyone connected to the 3 apprentices, I’m just……me.”

“You can believe in that and forget what I’ve told you or can continue to help fix a broken world. Your choice.”

For years she had been following in what Freddie has foreseen her and John to do but never did she imagine that she’d have to also lead all Magical creatures into peace.  Not to mention that she now suddenly got a whiplash of the fact that her family line was connected to the 3 apprentices of Merlin through apprenticeship.

But she had come too far now.  If she fled now then all this work would have been for nothing. She’d be abandoning her family yet again and that was something she couldn’t do.  Not when she finally started to rebuild it once again with the return of her adopted sons.

“Okay. What do you need us to do now?”

“Find Archimedes. He’s in his Motherland of what is now known as Chile. He has got to crown a Guardian of Creatures.”

“But Chile has one of the most powerful magical barriers. We wouldn’t even know where to start looking once we got there.”

“He’ll come to you dear one. He’ll trust his apprentice’s bloodline. But uhh… Archimedes won’t train you if you bring forth my descendant let alone know that you’re married to him. Best if you go find him alone.”

“You want me too—abandon my family?”

“You’re not abandoning them. Your destiny lies on a different path than theirs right now. You and Archimedes both need this.”

“I don’t know if I can do this on my own.” Balthazar placed his vessel’s hand on Serafina’s shoulder and both the vessel and Balthazar’s real voice spoke to her.

“When the time comes, I know you will do the right thing.” Their voices echoed in her head.

Back at camp Serafina’s eyes suddenly shot open and she panted heavily as a cold sweat stuck to her entire body.

“Melda?” John’s voice groaned beside her.  She looked down and rested her hand against John’s temple and used her magic to put him back to sleep.

“I’m alright my love. Go back to sleep.” He cleared his throat tiredly before letting out a moan and immediately fell right asleep. Serafina stared outside of the tent and thought to herself, ‘A descendant of Archimedes’ apprentice.’

She turned her night dress into traveling clothes and looked down at her husband and sons one last time.

“I’ll be back my loves. Please don’t worry.” She sent three red auras of magic into the minds of her boys who all smiled in their sleep and let out tired moans.

Serafina got out of the tent and she got on top of her horse and proceeded to race off into the desert.

[blackevermore]

x Secrets of The Lake: The Company of Misery and Pain

{ Chapter 6 }

Summary: Vladimir Masters’ family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters’ family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor’s crimes? Vladimir doesn’t know. However, Clockworks does.

Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!

Word Count: 2681

Maybe Danny should have stayed for dinner, gone home late and stayed long enough to defuse Dani’s anger towards Vlad. She was still mad at Danny but at least she would talk to him. This wasn’t the first time he has upset his daughter and had a silent dinner with her, that was bound to happen in the life of a parent who didn’t necessarily raise their kid. But this silent death had an added bonus of Dani staring at Vlad with a hint of confusion. Vlad tried his best to ignore it and pick at his food but the way her eyes seemed to dig further and further into his being it was impossible to ignore her.

“Danielle, I’m sure you are aware that staring is rude, no matter how much the other person upset you.” Vlad tried to sound as calm as possible as he spoke and for the most part it worked. Dani's eyes shot down towards her food and she quickly took a bite off her plate. Vlad sighed and decided he was done for the night, he wasn’t that hungry anyway, he snapped his fingers for the maid to come and clean. 

“Ya’know you could just get up and take it to the kitchen like a human.” Dani mockingly stated dragging out the word human just to emphasize her point. Vlad rose a brow and looked at her a bit bewildered but accepting the remark.

“As should you use the stairs to get to your room or anywhere else in the house. I know it's rather large but humans do it all the time.” Vlad couldn’t hide his amusement as Dani gave him a look of ‘shut up old man’. That spitfire attitude was all Danny’s and only 2% Vlad. Had Vlad had it his way a very long time ago, Danny would be his son doing the same thing and maybe Dani would have been there as well. Vlad hummed to himself then shook his head, one Danny of any sorts at a time. Two of them at once, Vlad was sure he would actually age past what he was physically. 

“I would like to apologize, Vlad took hold of his drink and took a sip to clear his throat. Apologies were still rather new to him and even if he truly meant it, it almost pained him to get it out. “Both Daniel and I know you only want to help. You are a natural born hero and we know it. But you have to understand that we are not trying to stop you because we think you can’t handle it. We are stopping you because what happened while we were in the Ghost Zone was even out of our hands. The last thing either of us wants is for you to be hurt trying to save us. Danny already had to drag me back home.” Vlad mutters the last bit, still embarrassed how easily he was defeated.

Dani untense her shoulders and lets out a sigh as she avoids making eye contact with Vlad. She gets it, she does, but she hasn't fought any bad guys in a while. Danny has been going out still on patrols while she was stuck at home because ‘you have school tomorrow’ was the excuse thrown at her. Even when she went home with Vlad she was still off limits from patrolling. If she wasn’t allowed to fight any ghost then at the very least she wanted to do was transform and fly around.

“I just wanna do something,” Dani plopped her face in her hands and sadly played with her food. Vlad nodded and gave her a sweet smile.

“Well, I can think of something that you can help with.” He said.

“Oh yeah?”

“And you can do it while in your ghost form.” Dani shot off the table and sat up straight in her chair. Vlad shook his head pleased to see her excitement once again. “I have a banquet coming this Wednesday and I haven’t gotten anything ready. I will give you full control to not only pick out the decoration, but also the theme and the staff that will entertain the guest. If you just so happen to make it ghost related I wouldn’t mind you putting on a show.”

Dani smiled but rolled her eyes and fell back into her chair.

“You put me on hosting duties but I’m not complaining. I get to go ghost!” Dani shrugged and picked up her fork to finish her plate. Vlad was actually impressed that she didn’t complain more. Had he ever said that to Danny, the boy would have complained the whole way through learning how to tie a tie.

“I will handle the menu, of course, but you have to tell me everything you want by tomorrow so we can prepare.” Vlad held up a finger and wagged it back and forth.

“Yeah yeah I gotcha, one fancy dancy fun party for fancy dancy people. But add a little bit of spice.” Dani did a very bad British accent and Vlad blinked a couple of times. She held up her hand and told him not to worry about it. Vlad will never understand this new generation and he wasn’t really sure he wanted to. When Dani finished her plate he was about to call for the maids but Dani stopped him. “Don’t worry I got this.” Dani pulled back her chair and picked up her mess and started towards the kitchen. When she passed Vlad she gave him a small smile, “Thanks dad.” 

Vlad would be lying if he said hearing her say that didn’t make his heart flutter. That was another tack on the board of good things Vlad has either done or heard. Vlad smiled and continued to sit at the table until he was done with his drink. When he looked towards the grandfather clock he realized it was rather late into the night. He still had work in the morning along with making sure Dani was ready to go when he was. With that he grabbed his glass and headed towards the kitchen to put it in the sink. Then he made his way towards the grand staircase to get to his room. He enjoyed the simplicity of being human sometimes, he took it for granted for 20 years so now being able to count the stairs up was fun. But Vlad also knew that being able to slip in and out of walls and floors was a childish thrill he would never let go.

  He led her from the wagon park on the dirt trail down through the trees to a hidden garden path that led to a cottage. Along the path was a stream of water that gently passed them by as the couple made their way towards their new home. Tayonna pulled away from him as she watched the water sparkle in the faint rays of the sun. It had been so long since they’ve been back here, four long years filled with nothing but trouble after trouble. The water looked so calm, not a care in the world as it continued to flow along the rocks on an unknown adventure. She wanted that, so badly. Born into unfortunate situations and only blessed by the benefit of service. She should be grateful but it seemed like the world was not made for people like her- for none of her people. She didn’t budge when she felt thick fingers slip between hers, nor did she look towards him when he stood beside her. 

“No one can find us here, it’s far enough from the town square and just far from any prying eyes. You are free to do as you please when you are here in my company.” Vladan took Tayonna’s hand in his and led her to the stream. The poor girl could tell he meant every word he promised her but something still haunted the depths of her mind. What they had together had changed dramatically from the time she was brought into the family to now. There was love, hidden scared fragile love that they both clung to in hope of forever.

“Here is home?” Tayonna asked as she reached down to dip her fingers in the cool water then used her powers to change its direction. The water started to rush upward towards the cottage before she lifted some of it into the air to swirl around them. Vladan smiled and pulled her in close and placed a kiss on her temple. The swirls of water broke apart in small drops and hung around them in crystals before dropping to the ground.

“And home is safe, I promise.” Vladan whispered to her, snaking a hand through her tight curls and pulling her in against his chest. They were safe, nothing bad could happen to them and he was sure of it. There was nothing left to take from him.

Vlad didn’t know what to make of this dream, but he was glad it wasn’t a nightmare nor a misleading sex dream. It was just bittersweet, as if he could tell the words that came out of his mouth- er the person he was in the dream’s voice was all a lie. Every time Vlad woke up from his dreams he couldn’t remember who he was supposed to be nor where he was. Everything played out like cloudy memories until Tayonna showed up. She always looked so unhappy and tensed like she also knew he was lying. Whenever they touched in these dreams, Vlad felt his heart flutter but always by the end it broke over and over again. He couldn’t even sit up in bed and simply rolled to his side to look out his window. He looked towards his bedside table and read the digital clock, it was 1am. He had only had the peace of slumber for two hours. As he stared out the window his mind drifted back towards the issues at hand.

From what Danny had told him about the ghost in the Ghost Zone, it seemed that Tayonna played on people’s emotions. ‘So she’s heartbroken?’ Vlad thought to himself then cringed at the thought of having to deal with another heartbroken ghost. What was it about the ladies in the ghost world all suffering from bad relationships? As if someone made it out to be that was the only thing they could truly suffer from. Vlad knew what heartbreak was, or rather what it could be when the one gets away from you. And yes he did spend a few years trying to win her over with shitty plots and tricks. But now he learned to let go, or in a way learning to do so, this was a cruel joke Clockwork placed him in. Tayonna would not be getting the upper hand on him.

When his position became uncomfortable he tossed himself onto his back once more. Staring up at the decorative ceiling Vlad found it hard to close his eyes. He was very tired but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle another dream. If he tried to think of something else to take his mind off the dreams it would find its way back around. Vlad ran a hand through his hair and pulled the dark patch in front of his eyes. He still couldn’t believe this, he was glad Danny and Dani hadn’t brought it up when he was standing in front of them. He had caught them looking since he woke from his small coma but they never asked. He sighed in a tired defeat and pushed his hair back behind him. He wanted to sleep and he would be damned if some ghost girl would be the reason he became an insomniac again. Vlad closed his eyes and tried to will his mind to nothingness so he could get comfortable. Within a few minutes he did start to feel himself slipping away, even when a cold hand caressed his cheek and tucked his hair behind his ear, he was completely drifting away.

The next morning Vlad for once in the past few months felt completely energized. When he opened his eyes he felt his power fire to life and felt like he could take on the world. He even had a little pep in his step as he hummed through getting ready and heading downstairs. Dani noticed his good mood as soon as he stepped into the kitchen. He hadn’t done any of this since he secretly bankrupt a competing company in California completely halting silicon valley.

“What’s got you all uppity?” Dani asked with a mouth full of cereal trying to shove as much as possible before being shooed out the door. Vlad stopped in his tracks halfway through making coffee and knotted his brows then shrugged. 

“I finally got a good night's rest, I suppose it put me in a good mood.” He hummed and continued his task.

“Well that's cool, also I have an idea for your thing tomorrow.” Dani pulled out her phone and swiped through it before opening her notes. “Four seasons, since it’s almost summer I think summer should be the main event while other parts of the party make up the other seasons. We could get some ghosts to dress up and be the spirits of the seasons and impress people with “magic tricks” .” Dani was proud of her idea, she had even drawn out costumes and shown Vlad.

“When did you have time to draw up all of these?” Vlad silently asked her for her phone and when she handed it over he flipped through the notes and the designs. They weren’t masterpieces but he could envision her idea. 

“Last night before bed, duh, but I figured out almost everything for each season. I'll be handling winter of course, but I couldn’t come up with anything for autumn because of the storm last night.” Vlad handed Dani her phone back and gave her a questionable look.

“What storm?” Vlad asked, taking a sip of his now cooling coffee. Rats. He wouldn’t have time to make another one, so he shrugged and used his powers to heat it up. They are there for a reason.

“You didn’t hear it? It was like so bad, I almost thought my window was gonna cave in from the winds. Eventually, it calmed down a bit and I went to sleep. You must have slept through it.” Vlad was sure that if there was a storm he would have heard it. Especially since he was woken up just a bit past midnight. Even when he looked out his window he didn’t see any traces of raindrops. Before Vlad could ask her more about the storm his phone sounded telling him it was time to go. With that he clapped his hands to gather Dani’s attention and told her to grab her stuff. He silenced his phone and stuck it in his pocket then transferred his coffee to his travel cup.

“Ugh I can’t wait till school is out.” Dani huffed and headed out the door heading towards the car.

“Two and half more weeks and you’re a free little woman. But until then get in the car so neither of us are late.”  Vlad shut the door and locked it and headed towards the driver's seat.

“Are you dragging us back to Wisconsin this summer? I kinda wanna stay here.” Dani rubbed her neck and Vlad secretly cursed Danny for giving her bad habits.

“I planned on at least staying there a week or so, but if you wish to stay in Minnesota that’s fine. Or I can compromise with you by staying with the Fentons’ while I’m gone.” Vlad felt proud of himself, he was on a roll of giving himself dad points. This unironically must be what Jack feels like. Wow… he didn’t want to compare himself to Jack at all.

“Deal.” Dani beamed and threw in her headphones for the rather lengthy car ride. 

[is-that-another-soulmate-au]

Zukaang soulmate au part 15

@mypureessence

@chaoticidiott

Sitting around the fire telling ghost stories was pretty fun, but when they were interrupted by a nearby innkeeper everyone was on edge. There was something about her that felt... off. Both Zuko and Sokka felt it, but neither of them could put their finger on it. She always seemed to have a slight glare on her face when looking at Zuko but he was used to that so he didnt play that into whatever was going on.

When they got home from the market and Hamma left to go to the market Sokka did some snooping around, and while Zuko wanted to know what was up he was in the same boat as Katara, not wanting to intrude where they weren't explicitly told they were allowed to go. So when Hamma walked in on them Zuko was by the door watching her walk in. He gave her a nod in the groups direction and she gave a hard glare before getting the attention of the others.

When it was revealed that she was not only from the southern tribe but also a waterbender Zuko's heart sank. Her retelling of the things she went through made his heart sink even more.

"Hamma" he started earning a slight glare "I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, and I know just from the glares you've given me that it probably won't change much. But, I'm sorry" he was looking at his hands "I may not have been around when my nation hurt you, but my ancestors were, and I'm so, so sorry." When he looked up he was met with not a glare but instead a softer expression and eyes threatening to burst with tears.

"Oh Lee, I'm sorry, I hadn't noticed I had been glaring at you. I'm sure the fire nation has hurt you too, I shouldnt have-"

"No, you were right to glare at me. You're right to be angry with me. Sure the fire nation hurt me, but that does not compare in any way to the pain its caused you. The pain its caused every one else at this table." He looked at his hands "my direct ancestors are the cause of so much destruction, so you're right to be angry with me. I don't need forgiveness and I dont need you to turn around and apologize to me. Just know that I'm sorry, and that you don't have to forgive me" looking back up he saw Hamma give him a small nod.

And that was the last bit they spoke before Katara and Hamma began their waterbending training, leaving Sokka and crew to try and find out the mystery behind the people going missing. After talking to old man Ding, who managed to escape the gasp of whatever was causing this Toph made a connection

"Oh no!"

"What!? Whats wrong?!" Zuko and Sokka said in unison

"I did hear people screaming under the mountain! The missing villagers must still be there!"

And with that they all ran off towards the mountain, finding the missing people was a breeze thanks to Toph and her all seeing earth bending feet.

"We're saved!" One of them exclaimed

"I didn't know spirits made prisons like this?" Aang muttered to himself "who brought you here?"

"It was no spirit!" One of the female villagers said in an irritated voice

"It was a witch!" Another exclaimed

"A witch? What do you mean?" Sokka pressed while Toph went around uncuffing the villagers

"She may seem like a normal old woman but she controls people like some dark puppet master!" The first woman finished off her statement with a rub to her now uncuffed wrists.

"Hamma" Sokka spoke through clenched teeth

"Yes! The innkeeper!" A man shouted from where he was on the wall.

"I knew there was something creepy about her!"

"We have to stop Hama!"

"You guys go! I'll get the villagers out"

And with that Zuko Aang and Sokka were off to find Katara and Hama. Zuko lost himself in thought as he ran, Hama could control people like a puppet master? Being a waterbender she probably could have used water and ice to do that right? But then they would have just said she was a waterbender... and Old Man Ding didn't say anything about water.

Shaking his head he kept running, taking a glance at Aang he was filled with worry, they had no idea what they were going up against, on a full moon none the less. He didnt want to lose him again.

Coming up on Hama and Katara, Sokka was the first to shout out "we know what you've been doing Hama!"

"Give up! You're outnumbered!" Aang shouted out the threat with full confidence

"No!" Hama shouted back as she stood "you just outnumbered yourselves"

Suddenly Zuko felt a hot stinging sensation flow through him and he was pulled forward by an invisible force along with Aang and Sokka. They were thrown at Katara, but she managed to dodge them and throw an attack at Hama.

The fight went on until Aang and Zuko were frozen to trees and Sokka was frozen to the ground "dont hurt your friends Katara" Hama mocked "and don't let them hurt eachother!"

Zuko and Aang were pulled towards Sokka from both sides with him now forced standing upright. At the last second before they all crashed together with weapons drawn they stopped moving and Katara shouted "No!"

Hama was brought to her knees with Katara's blood bending. Just as she was knelt down Toph arrived with the villagers and put her in cuffs. "You're going away forever"

"No wait" Zuko said with a raised hand

"Zuko what are you doing?" Aang went to reach for his lowered hand but Zuko moved away

"I get it, yeah, she hurt all of you, and yeah sure, maybe you didn't deserve it. But neither did the people I hurt. And she didn't deserve any of the decades worth of pain she went through along side her brothers and sisters. The pain she went through is astronomical compared to what she's done." He looked at Hama with a sad expression "let me be the first to say that I would gladly take the beating she wants to give to the fire nation, my ancestors are directly linked to the near extinction of her culture, and they're linked to the extinction of the air nomads!"

He turned to Katara "I would be shocked about you not wanting to use that power to get back at the fire nation, but its just not in your nature, and thats okay. But its also okay that she does want to." He gestured around vaguely "she deserves to express her anger! She deserves to let it out! Sure maybe this wasn't the best way to go about it, but she's been stolen from her home! How else would someone react?! I mean fuck! I was burnt and banished and the first thing I did was set out to hurt people!" He took a breath and refocused "hurt people, hurt people."

He looked Hama directly in the eyes "while I dont think you were right in hurting these people in particular, and the way you went about it was definitely not the right way. You deserve to let out your anger. And the best way to do that without causing any real damage, is to scream." When her expression turned from anger to confusion he continued "so I want you to scream Hama. Scream at me. I'm connected to the people who caused you pain, my ancestors ordered that pain to happen. Yell at me! Scream in my face! Tell me how much you hate my guts! Scream Hama! Scream until you can't scream any-"

"AAAAAAGH!" Hama let out a loud scream, interrupting Zuko's long speech. "You want me to scream at you? Want to hear how much I hate you? Fine!" She tugged forward but was held back by her wrists "I hate you! You are disgusting! How dare you! How could you! You attacked us! You knew we were without an army! And you attacked us! You took my friends, my family! And you took me! You stole me from my home and locked me up like a wild animal! You deserve nothing!"

She took a loud shaky breath and continued "you deserve to ROT!" She took a moment to look at Zuko, who held an expression one could only describe as empathy, no pity, no fear, no anger, just an empathetic sorrow filled expression. She stared at him and then looked down "but not you, not any of you, you werent there" she fell to her knees with the man holding her falling suit. "None of you were there, none of you hurt us, but I-"

"Did what you had to" Zuko finished as he knelt beside her "Hama, you were stolen, you were hurt. By people of my nation, of our nation" he said motioning to the people behind her, those of which were part of the fire nation "of course you would direct your anger at us. Hell, if I were in your shoes I would do the exact same thing" he paused for a moment and then sighed "and as much as I dont want to admit it. What you did was wrong in so many ways and yeah, you do need to go somewhere else, but, you don't have to go in thinking you won't get out."

He took a second to let his words sink "because we're going to stop this war, and when its over I'll personally see to it that you are given a safe place to heal"

And with that they watched her and the villagers walk away, leaving Zuko with the weight of the promise he just made and Katara with the weight of her new found ability. The group packed up and left after that.

This time flying away was not at all a good feeling. Zuko was sitting with his back against Aang's chest while the two sat at the front of Appa with the reigns in Aang's hands.

"You really meant what you said to Hama didn't you?" Toph suddenly broke the silence

Zuko looked down at his hands "yeah, I did"

"How are you going to make good on that?"

"I...." he trailed off for a bit before coming to the realization that he doesn't know how he's going to pull off getting Hama the help she needs "I don't know"

"You'll figure it out," Katara chimed in "and we'll be here to help you when the time comes"

"Yeah," Aand said as he rested his chin on Zuko's shoulder and turned to give him a kiss on the cheek "We're all here help"

[alexandermanes]

halloween week, day two - the hunt

hi! welcome to day two of my halloween week fic! This one is a werevolf au, tw for blood, graphic descriptions of gore and werewolf transformation

IT BELMANES CENTRIC OK BC I ALWAYS WRITE MALEX

summary: the pod squad is a wolf squad and jesse manes hunts them down 

ao3

The moon was set high in the sky as six pairs of legs galloped on the sterile sandy soil in Roswell, New Mexico; soft thick fur dancing in the wind. Usually people steered clear from the desert once the sun had set. Tonight was a full moon which always meant agonizing metamorphosis, bones cracking, nails and fur growing, eyes glowing, teeth piercing through flesh; blood, so much blood. With every full moon came the reminder of their curse, but it also brought a foreign sense of freedom, such as running through the desert as a wolf, something so primal and common amongst various animals, something that ordinary human beings could never experience it.  

Freedom wasn’t something Michael, Isobel and Max ever experienced since their conception; the lack of freedom was passed down from generation to generation. The curse was bearable, despite excruciating, but it had its perks, though the witch that cursed their bloodline could have never predicted that once their ancestors set foot in a supposedly uninhabited “new” land they’d be persecuted by men. Not just any men, men from the same bloodline. Man who they came to know as Manes men. Maybe the witch had predicted their fate after all, an addition to their misery. With each generation of their family the tale of their curse became more and more unclear, trapped in a fog set by time, the story’s veracity crumbled; instead of a single myth there were many and each family knew a tale that diverged slightly or enormously from the original one. However, the witch’s name or her family’s name were unknown, the only common denominators in all versions of the story of the family’s curse.      

For years the Manes have hunted them and for years they traveled through the country, hiding and never staying in one place for too long yet here they were, back in Roswell after all this time. The Manes were relentless, always somehow one or two steps behind, breathing down their necks even if indirectly, they were powerful people, hunters nonetheless. And hunters, like beasts, were drawn to the smell of shed blood. Though their families vowed to never harm a hair in a human’s head the target in their heads never seemed to waver, not to the Manes.

Soon, it would be dawn, and they would morph into their human form again, and the cycle would repeat itself for other five days until the full moon would transitioned to a quarter moon. Feeling the soothing approach of dawn, Isobel directed her pack, her brothers to the nearest cave, a cave they strategically left clothes and blankets in for once they were back to being bipeds again.

“So, what’s the plan, Iz?”, Michael asked as he put on his shirt, his back to his siblings, as they had their backs turned to him too. The bare minimum of privacy.

“Survive the week, move the next”  

Once the rustling of clothes ceases silence settled, an indication they were all decent, Michael looked at his siblings, something dark settled in his features

“Y’know, this would all be done with if we got rid of them”

“All of them?”, Isobel asked pointedly, her tone imbued in annoyance

“Well-“

“Well, all of them except your precious Alex, that is”

“He is not like them”, Michael remarked wearily and slightly offended on Alex’s behalf

“They are all the same. They are all monsters”

“Izzy-“

“Michael, please. I get it, okay? You’re in love”, her brother chocked on air as if her words were some kind of revelation, “doesn’t automatically undo all the things his family did to ours”

Michael and Isobel were tied by blood, but not like her and Max, Michael was her cousin but in every way that counted he was her brother and despite being a thick-skulled, one-track minded asshole sometimes, he was and forever would be her brother. Even if he fell for a Manes man, the same men that-

No, she was not going there.

“Let’s go have breakfast”, she offered and both brothers nodded, acquiescing silently

-

   Sunlight streamed through The Crashdown’s window’s, soft and feather-like warmth enveloped the siblings. The diner was mostly empty given the fact that it was early in the morning, before seven o’clock. They were greeted by a smiling and antennae-wearing Liz Ortecho, who seemed genuinely glad to see them after so many years, and it had Max blushing just by being the receiving end of her smile.

After ordering their morning coffee and skimming through the pages on their menu, finally they ordered their breakfast food.

“It’s good to be back”, Max sighed into his coffee

“Is it though?”, Isobel muttered under her breath, still analyzing the menu, her light brown wig looking a bit more like her actual hair

“Okay, Izzy. I’d get the morning crank, if it was all that this”, Max zig-zagged his finger in her direction, looking suspicious under his baseball cap, “was about. Which it ain’t, so talk to us, Izzy”, he looked at her with his puppy hazel eyes earnestly and all her irritation melted away and grew subsequently like a cart on a rollercoaster ride.

“Fine”, she squinted her light green eyes and glared at her brothers, “I’m tired of running”, she says matter-of-factly, “if they want to come for us I say let them try to take the first swing”

“Wait”, Max says at the same time Michael chokes on his omelet

“Isobel are you sure this isn’t about -“

“Don’t”, she interrupts him menacingly, green eyes sparkling with rage and something else entirely “don’t start, Max”

“Isobel”, he tries again

“Please”, she pleads a bit too loudly earning a concerned and quizzical look from Liz and Arturo

“Okay”, her brother relents, “but we still need to talk about this”, his voice is soft but his eyes are stern, nothing short of determination, “we’ve let you call the shots, wherever you pointed to we just followed behind. Now though, staying here? With the Manes around, in their hometown? We at least need to talk about it”

Michael and Isobel nod in acquisition knowing this problem will resurface sooner rather than later.

-

               In the afternoon, Isobel and her brothers plopped down and huddled together on the small sofa inside the Bunker beneath the Sanders Auto, ready to discuss what they’d postponed for too long.

“So”, Max started, “why are we here?”

“Uh, we can’t exactly go outside and walk around like actual p-“

“Enough with the games, Isobel”, uttered wearily

“Fine”, she shouted, she adjusted her posture, back straight, predatorily so, like a snake about to lunge at its prey

“I meant what I said when I told you I was tired of running”, Isobel explained more calmly, “So I said fuck it. We can start over here and if they try anything, well”, her unfinished sentence hung threateningly in the air.

After a couple of seconds, Michael spoke: “Then what?”

“You said it yourself, Michael”, her reply is devoid of any emotion except determination

“What? We kill them?”, disbelief embedded in his query

“You were right”, she turned her body towards her brother, assessing him with her piercing gaze, “This went on for far too long and I’m done with fleeing from a place to another, never settling down for more than a couple of months then moving across the country. I mean don’t you want more from life?”

“Listen, I’m all for killing the Jesse Manes and his minions. But don’t you think we need a plan? We can’t go in bearing our canines and growling, it’s gonna get us killed”

“Since when do you plan for anything, Michael?”

“Since it comes as a matter of life and death, Isobel!”, he screams, scrambling to his feet

The youngest fits the eldest, Max, a worried glance, prompting him to chime in, to say anything about their sister’s all but suicidal plan if you could call that a plan really. Max suddenly looks at both his feet and exhales deeply and turns to Isobel, his voice barely above a whisper:

“This is about Noah, isn’t it?”

Immediately, her eyes fill with tears at the mention of her ex-fiancé, she turns away and starts pacing, meanwhile Michael and Max stare at her, the first wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape, the other unfazed.

“Iz-“

“No, Michael. You don’t get to say anything!”, she points her wavering finger to him as tears pour out of her very soul, “You get to be happy, you get to be have the person you love because that person can protect you. I don’t”

In truth, Isobel loved Noah, she really did, though it might not have been the constant butterflies and fire in her belly like she imagined romantic love to be. In all her years, the constant moving and fear that permeated her life, no partner ever stood by her side like Noah did, not that she had had many, she never needed to, she had Noah, and he was loyal and understanding of her wishes, until he wasn’t. Not that blame fell upon him for their failed relationship, but neither did it fall on her: it wasn’t her fault. Eventually the lack of stability conjoined with lack of explanation as to why they had to move at all took a toll on their relationship and it came to bitter end. And Isobel, always fierce and defying, couldn’t find it in her to confess her secret to her, at the time, partner, because it meant risking the lives of everyone she loved. And it’s not like she had any friends, she had none, haven’t been able to keep people that aren’t related by blood to her.

Hopeless, Isobel lived her everyday trying to convince herself she wasn’t meant to find any happiness in this lifetime. Despite knowing not to risk the lives of her family, she yearned for something and as that struggle grew tenfold, she faltered and here they were. She tried to find happiness in anything else in her life but without Noah, her life seemed ever bleaker than before and something inside her cracked, like a clock’s engine giving out and suddenly she was unable function properly. Thus, she decided to drag her brothers back to Roswell in a moment of weakness.

“It’s not fair”, she croaks, “This curse, it took everything from us”

“Not the curse”, Michael corrected her gently and squeezed her shoulder tenderly, “The Manes”

“What’s the difference at this point?”, she sniffled, and fit her head on the crook of Michael’s neck, burying her woeful face

Max finally stands and trudges towards his siblings and puts his hands on the shoulder that’s not embraced by Michael

“Iz, you can’t. I know you miss him, but if you see him again you might break and he can’t know”, Max explained

“I just need to see him again, please”, she sobbed desperately

Max just looked at Michael, desperation creeping, he was out of ideas, and as for his brother, he just shrugged jerkily, already feeling desperate himself.

-

As dusk approached, and the colors of the sky grew colder and darker, the three sibling where once again in the middle of the sterile soil of New Mexico, which stretched out to the horizon and all around them, which meant they were away from humans, from their peering gaze and fragile bodies. Good, she thought, face stained with tears.

They stood there in their underwear in a circle, waiting for the moment the sun excused itself to give the moon space to make an appearance in the sky.

“Iz”, Michael tried meekly, “we’re gonna figure this out, okay?”

Isobel smiled at him weakly, as if mustering a smile was the most difficult task ever, and took his hand. Her brother, for all his confidence and snark he was one soft man.

Max took her other hand and declared it was almost time. Soon enough, they started to feel the effects of their transformation, the vibration beneath their skin, their molecules rearranging themselves, the hum in their ears growing louder. If only it was just vibrating into a wolf. If only. Their bones moved as if they had a life of their own, which in nights of full moons they did, it was a kind of pain you had no words for, their organs squished between their bone structure as their whole body shifted to a new form. The cracking and moving made an awful noise especially with their heightened senses. They fell to the ground, body accommodating their four-legged body. They’d scream if they could, but only whimpers come out. Blood streamed out of their ears, eyes and noses, and once their teeth sharpened and pierced their gums, blood poured out of their mouths as well. The hairs on their body grew, itching, long and thick as they became fur. Though the pain was excruciating, they stood in their wolf bodies for the sheer power of magic that coursed through them.

Fully transformed, they shook their bodies like a dog dripping with water would, shaking the after-effects of the metamorphosis. They assed each other, making sure they were okay. Isobel went in front of them, pearly white fur bouncing under the moonlight, her eyes emerald green, and Max followed behind, velvety black fur and honey eyes and finally Michael, golden fur and golden eyes, queued behind. They didn’t explore by themselves tonight, nor did they run free, they simply strolled aimlessly. Wandering. They roamed through the desert for what it felt like hours.

Something in the distance caught their enhanced hearing: a car, and it was speeding closer and closer, instead of running and hiding in the nearest cave they stood still. Something, instinct if you must label it, told them this was no ordinary vehicle filled with curious tourists or bored and unruly teens; this was deliberate, not an accident. So they braced themselves for the fight, knowing full well it was Jesse Manes and whoever planned to exterminate them specifically. Yes, them, their family, because even when they kept their noses clean, keeping a strict non-human (as food) for diet, the Manes were still relentless, with the exception of one Alex Manes who was disgustingly head-over-heels in love with Michael.

So they stood still, predatory stance and unyielding focus, and waited. A couple of minutes later, small spheres of yellow gleamed in the darkness of nightfall. They grew bigger and bigger until the trio saw them for what they were: headlights. A black SUV, menacingly approached them rapidly until it stopped about seven feet away from them. Out of it jumped, expectedly, Jesse Manes and someone else, someone who looked awfully similar to Alex but wasn’t. In their hands they wielded glistening silver guns which were probably loaded with silver bullets. How convenient. Arms steadily pointed at them, the siblings would have to prepare an attack that’d be quick and unexpected. No one moved, not even by inch, time seemed to have stilled and the air was as thick as their wolf fur, it was harder to breathe.

Then, something different filled the air. And of course, Michael smelled him before he saw him, his siblings who followed closely behind. The wolves’ laser-focus wavered, ears moving in a way that allowed them to pick out the sound of another car more efficiently. Noticing the distraction that took over the wolves, Jesse Manes looked at the other man questioningly who shrugged equally confused until the other SUV was parked behind Jesse’s. And out of it climbed none other than Alex Manes who without second thought shot who they realized now was his brother sided with Jesse. The shot was aimed at his knee, and he fell to the ground with a shout. Jesse had barely any time to react when a bullet pierced his chest, a clean shot to his heart and as he fell to the ground kneeling and before him stood a man, as tall as Max, maybe taller, dark hair and dark eyes, strong clenched jaw. His smelled like sweat and something incredibly sweet. He was the most beautiful thing Isobel had ever set eyes on. The clink of metal being hit brought Isobel out of her daze and she snapped her attention to her brothers seemingly unharmed. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw movement, she braced for an attack momentarily only to realize it was Alex, moving closer to them.

“Is he dead?”, Alex breathed out

“Yeah”, the other man whispered, his voice made Isobel shiver

“Can you take Flint to the hospital? I can take it from now, Greg”, Alex came closer to him and patted his shoulder, “Thanks for helping. You didn’t have to do that”, he pointed to their father’s lifeless body

“It’s fine, Alex. I should’ve protected you from him sooner”, Greg replied

Alex nodded in thanks and as Greg moved to assist Flint, who resisted the help accusing them of treason, he spared a glance to Isobel whose heart thumped so fast she thought she might have a heart attack. Then he turned back, hauled Flint up and sat him on the passenger’s seat then jogged to the driver’s seat. He drove away and took a piece of Isobel’s mind and her with him.

“It’s over guys”, Alex announced, “He is dead, and you’re safe now. My brother and I will handle Flint but we won’t let him close to you. I’ll protect you from now on”

Michael, the sap, galloped towards him, and wrapped his body around him, and rubs himself onto him like a house cat, leaning his very wolf weight on him and earning a startled laughter from his boyfriend, Alex, tumbled a bit but did not fall. Alex, who a moment before shot his own brother to keep them safe and now was gushing over Michael’s domesticated feline behavior. And Isobel knows she should feel guilty for judging her brother’s boyfriend so harshly, she should also feel relieved for being set free from the Jesse Manes’ claws. Except she feels confusion and longing directed at a man she’d just met.

She hoped she could introduce herself properly to Alex’s brother and she desperately hoped her feelings would be reciprocated.  And the very least,  possible she hoped she’d see him again.

[alj4890]

A Second Chance

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda)

A/N Our last chapter of this series. I will say that some things did not turn out how I originally planned, but I do love that about writing with these characters. They really do end up taking a life of their own. Our final chapter for A Second Chance has Maxwell’s big surprise, Amanda’s decision, and an epilogue. Thanks so much for enjoying this brief series. Sorry I haven’t responded much on your comments. In between beginning this and ending it, migraines from the bowels of the earth struck at various intervals. But I have thoroughly enjoyed how this story unfolded.

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo​ @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment  @hopefulmoonobject   @krsnlove   @annekebbphotography @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05  @desireepow-1986 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @moodyvalentinestories @emceesynonymroll @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @ab1901  @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker . @trappedinfandoms  @kate-mckenzie @cordoniaqueensworld @everythingmarvelsherlockspn

Masterlist

Catch up here with Chapter 9

Chapter 10

While Maxwell was away, Amanda sat down and begin to compose a list of all the things at St Orella that were either left to her as an inheritance or she had purchased herself. Everything else either was left in terms of being a part of the duchy.

Thomas had read Kathleen a few stories at the window seat while she continued to write down what she knew was hers. He would look up every once in a while and watch her tap the top of her pen to her lips while reading over what she had listed.

When she set it down, he realized that her list barely covered half a page.

As Kathleen left them to see what her aunt and uncle were doing, Thomas came up behind Amanda’s chair and read over her shoulder. “That’s all you plan to take?”

She nodded. “The majority of furniture was left to the St Orellan heir. These are what members of my family either left personally to me or to a family member who then made certain I inherited it.” She then pointed to another column. “These I bought for myself using my personal fortune and not the St. Orellan coffers.”

“What about the portraits of your parents and uncle?” He asked.

She shook her head. “Those were painted for the St Orellan gallery.” When she noticed his concern, she gently caressed his cheek. “I have plenty of pictures of them that will go with me.” She then opened a drawer to her desk. “And I get to take these with me.” She pulled out the different journals of her ancestors. “Each one was written for family, not the for the current duke or duchess.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips when she looked back up at him.

“You know Maxwell won’t mind if you take more.” He kissed her ear. “I don’t want you to leave behind anything that means something to you.”

She smiled and shook her head. “I am taking what means the most to me.” She looked up at all the heavily ornate furniture and decorations, excited at the prospect of picking new décor. “The rest belongs here.”

He took her hand when she rose from her chair. She met his still worried gaze and smiled. “Come. Let’s get Kathleen ready for this big surprise.”

*************

A little over an hour later…

"Must we wear these?" Thomas asked.

Maxwell nodded. "It's the only way for you to be truly surprised."

Kathleen obediently slipped on the sleep mask and gripped her mother's shirt.

"Wait until we are in the car." Amanda said, trying to keep from laughing.

"It isn't a surprise party, is it?" Thomas appeared suddenly ill.

"You'll find out soon enough." Maxwell said in a sing song voice.

Kathleen giggled at her father's resigned expression. He glanced down at her, saw she only had one eye covered with the sleep mask, and felt his first smile form since Maxwell had handed them the blinders.

"What do you think the surprise is?" He whispered to her.

"Maybe a party." Kathleen said. "Oh! Or an animal!" Her face lit up with excitement. "He gave Aunt Riley and Uncle Liam two red pandas when they got married. What if he got us two since you and Mommy are getting married."

Maxwell heard her loud whisper and gently shook his head no when Amanda whispered to him if it was that.

"I never do repeats." He admitted. "I'm not that kind of gifter."

"A limo?" Thomas' eyebrows raised in disbelief when they followed him outside. "Where are we going?"

"You can't expect my surprise to begin with a normal car ride." Maxwell replied, wounded at such a thought.

Kathleen hurried inside.

"After you." Maxwell said to the couple.

The two got in and sat down across from their daughter. Maxwell smoothly slid in and sat on the seat between Kathleen and her parents.

He rubbed his hands together. "Alright party people, masks on!"

Thomas groaned softly when both Amanda and Kathleen gave him a silent pleading look to play along. He pulled the mask over his head and settled it over his eyes. He felt somewhat placated for doing so when he felt a kiss placed on his cheek

Once everyone had their sleep masks firmly in place, Maxwell lowered the privacy barrier and told the driver to proceed. He raised it back up and relaxed with a big smile on his face.

During the long ride, Thomas felt Amanda slip her hand in his as well as resting her head against his shoulder. His lips curved as memories of the night before flashed through his mind. He was looking forward to tonight and all the possibilities that were before him.

Amanda’s own smile appeared when she felt his arm lift to wrap around her. She then felt his lips brush her temple and couldn't wait until they were alone once more. Her heart was completely ready for their future. Now that the burden of St Orella had been lifted off of her shoulders, she was excited for what lay ahead.

The two had stayed up late into the night making plans for the type of wedding they wanted, possible honeymoon destinations, and of course talk of maybe having more children.

Even when she used to daydream of Thomas realizing he loved her and wanted to be with her and Kathleen, it had never matched to the real thing. She still was waiting on either her alarm clock or Kathleen to wake her up from what surely must be a dream.

While the two sat quietly with their thoughts, Kathleen kept up a steady chatter with Maxwell, trying to guess where they were going.

"Give it up, Kat." Maxwell teased. "You will never guess this."

He had to fight his laughter at her huffing and folding her arms. Her little face scrunched into a fierce frown was made even more humorous by the sleep mask covering half of it.

After some time, the limo slowed to a stop.

"Keep those on!" Maxwell ordered when they all moved to rip the blinders off.

He got out, commanded they remained still, and then told them to carefully step out.

"Alright, stand right here--wait no--Thomas, you need to--" Maxwell repositioned them and stood in front of them to make certain they were in the best spot for the big reveal.

"It sounds like the beach." Kathleen gripped her parents' hands as she strained to figure out what their surprise was.

"Yes, it does." Thomas murmured.

"Is it a picnic?!" Kathleen asked.

Maxwell shook his head then realized none of them could see him. "No picnic."

"Are we going sailing?" Amanda asked.

"Nope." Maxwell gloated. "Now, on the count of three, I want you to take your masks off." He glanced behind him, grinning at his conspirators stepping out onto the lawn. "One...two...THREE!"

The family removed them and blinked at the bright sky.

They looked around curiously.

"Well?! What do you think?" Maxwell could not quite contain his giddy excitement.

"The house?" Thomas asked, looking at the mansion set against the rocky shore.

"It's beautiful." Amanda said, admiring the subdued gray brick.

"It's yours." Maxwell said proudly.

The couple looked at him with mouths agape.

"What?" Thomas uttered.

"Can we go in?" Kathleen asked.

"Maxwell--how, you can't give us a house!" Amanda exclaimed. "This is too much."

The rest of the Cordonian group and Stephen and Rachel had smiles as they pointed out that it was a wedding present from them all.

"Max picked it out." Riley began. "He said you had to have a place in Cordonia so that you would visit more often."

"Liam used his kingly authority and got all the paperwork completed overnight." Drake added.

"And we have been doing a little bit of decorating." Olivia rolled her eyes. "Mostly, we have been doing whatever Hana ordered us to do."

Amanda covered her mouth as tears filled her eyes. She shook her head at the immense generosity of her friends. They had stuck by her through every trial she faced. Helped her wade through years of uncertainty. And now they had rushed to give her a home all her own. No nobles to deal with. No political work to keep it. Just a home for her and her family.

When the first broken sob escaped her lips, Thomas gently pulled her into his arms. She tried to muffle her crying against his shirt.

"Mommy!" Kathleen rubbed her eyes and pressed her face against her legs. "Don't cry."

Thomas rubbed Amanda’s back while she tried to calm down. He knew the last few days had to be a whirlwind of change and stress on her. Being given such a gift was her breaking point.

Hudson cleared his throat from the front door. "Your grace?" When numerous heads turned toward him, he shook his head. "Forgive me, I meant Lady Hana. There is an issue of furniture placement that we need your direction on."

Hana smiled and hurried inside, pulling Rashad along with her.

"Hey," Maxwell said softly. He tugged on Amanda's hair making a surprise laugh pop out amongst her tears. "Can I give you your tour before I go pick up Nadia from the airport?"

She nodded while dabbing at her cheeks and nose with the tissues Riley had handed her.

He grinned and motioned with his head. "Come on. I can't wait for you to see the inside. It literally screams Amanda and Thomas."

Kathleen tugged on his hand. "What about me?"

His grin grew bigger. "Just you wait, Kat. Hana has done something that definitely has your name written all over it."

The rooms were bright and cheerful with unparalleled views of the ocean. They were also surprisingly filled with furniture.

Amanda paused when she recognized her favorite recliner from one of her informal dens at St Orella. "Max? Is this..."

"Don't worry." He said proudly. "Hudson knows what has to stay at St Orella and what doesn't. The rest though is new furniture." He shook his head as if to admonish her. "Every bride needs something old and something new."

Thomas laced his fingers with hers as they continued with the tour.

There were rooms for all their needs. A breakfast nook in the large kitchen. A dining room with Amanda's great grandmother's china tea set sitting in a place of honor in the middle of a table that could seat twelve. A study was currently being worked on by a few of St Orella's servants. Some of the books on the shelves were the very ones Kathleen had been interested in.

A large living room was complete with nothing but furniture that was made for comfort. No rough, formal antiques that made one less likely to sit could be found anywhere.

There was one room downstairs that was left completely empty.

"This will be the theater room." Maxwell explained. "I called Addison to let her know what we were doing, and she and the Hollywood bunch are designing this for you. They'll be here Monday."

Thomas groaned at the thought of more company. His lips curved though each time Amanda exclaimed how much she loved all that they had seen.

Kathleen tugged on Maxwell's hand. "Can we see my bedroom?"

"Bedroom?" He pretended to ponder that. "Hmm...did you need one?"

Her little jaw dropped. "Where will I sleep?"

"I didn't think of that." Maxwell muttered. He chuckled when she still seemed unable to believe it. "Do you honestly think I would leave out the most important part?"

They went up the staircase and saw a room with the door closed and another larger one with Hana directing some workers.

"Let's look at where we are going to stick your parents first." Maxwell whispered.

They all peeked into the room where Hana was.

"Oh!" Amanda gasped. The room was similar in design to the one she had in St Orella. There was a large fireplace in which Hana had placed two chairs. The bed that was being put together was set in a way that one could enjoy the fire from it or turn on their side and see the ocean.

Thomas admired the suite's bathroom with its large shower with multiple shower heads. His eyebrows lifted at some of their clothes already in the walk-in closet.

"Hana," Maxwell called out. "It is time to reveal your masterpiece!"

She smiled and left Rashad in charge.

"Close your eyes." Hana whispered as she held Kathleen's hand.

The little girl closed them tight and nearly bounced with anticipation when she heard the door open.

"You can open them." Hana clasped her hands together, beaming at the happiness she saw in Kathleen's face.

"Twinkle lights!" Kathleen pointed up at the ceiling. She went from one area to another, thanking Hana with each aspect she loved.

"Hana," Amanda said in surprise. "This looks so much like her room in California."

"I wanted her to have that sense of home here." Hana explained, blushing at all the compliments everyone was giving her. "That was why I asked you for more detail about her room." She knelt when Kathleen hugged her.

"This is the best surprise ever!” Kathleen told her, kissing her cheek. "I love my room, Aunt Hana."

Maxwell grinned and quietly motioned for Amanda to follow him. "The rest are guestrooms that we ran out of time to furnish. We thought you and Thomas and Kathleen might want to stay here tonight. Rachel and Stephen can stay at St Orella for as long as they want."

He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Are you happy with it?"

She nodded, pulling him into a hug. "More than I can express." She kissed his cheek and tried not to cry again. "Thank you."

He checked the time and told her he would be back later. "Hudson and the rest will be bringing your things over. Anything you want from St Orella is yours. Just write out a list and he'll make sure to have it delivered." He winked before hurrying down the stairs.

***************

While Kathleen played in her new room, Thomas and Amanda stepped outside to the back patio. It curved around with the house and had a number of lounge chairs and covered swings set out.

"What do you think?" Amanda asked.

"It's a beautiful home." He turned to look up at it. "I'm surprised Maxwell chose one that I would have actually picked for us."

He noticed she was staring at him. "What are you thinking?"

"That I want to get married." She admitted, blooms of color appearing on her cheeks.

He smiled as his lips tenderly brushed hers. "So do I."

"I mean today." She looked up at him. "I want our first night here to be one of us celebrating our marriage."

His arms tightened around her. "I will marry you whenever you wish." His lips grazed her ear. "Nothing could make me happier than doing so right now."

Amanda smiled as she met his lips in a more heated kiss. "Wait here."

He watched her hurry inside, disappearing down a hall.

A few minutes later she returned with Liam.

"You do realize that everyone will have my head for this?" He teased.

"We will do our best to be discreet." Amanda glanced at Thomas. "Or as discreet as we can be with dressing up."

"You have a plan?" Thomas asked, noticing the secretive smile on her face.

"I do." She pointed to a secluded area on the shore. "Meet us down there in thirty minutes."

*************

40 minutes later...

 Thomas tugged at his bowtie and checked the time once more.

"You're not nervous, are you?" Liam asked, amused watching his agitated movements.

"No." His frown eased. "Not at all. I'm about to marry the only one I have ever loved."

Liam clapped his shoulder in camaraderie.

"Can you legally marry us without witnesses?" Thomas asked, concerned about it not being official.

Liam nodded. "I'm the king. It will be legal and binding." His eyes lifted when he saw movement coming down the hill. "Ah, here they are."

Thomas turned and couldn't stop the smile that formed. Kathleen had on the sparkly dress he had bought her for her birthday. Amanda had dressed in the dark teal gown she had known he had always loved her in.

The two loves of his life walked hand in hand and stopped before him.

"We're ready." Kathleen said to Liam.

He chuckled and began the ceremony.

While Amanda and Thomas stood before one other with their hands clasped, Kathleen stood next to Liam. She leaned against his side as the vows were exchanged. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed when she let out a yawn.

Her parents though were oblivious to her thinking it was taking too long. When Liam brought up the issue of rings, Amanda began to say they did not have any yet.

Thomas pulled them out of his pocket.

"Where did you get those?" She asked, completely surprised.

"I wanted them to match your engagement ring." Thomas lowered his eyes to the bands he held. "I bought them at the same time."

She shook her head while trying not to cry again. When she took his wedding ring, she noticed markings on the inside.

She held it closer and read the words aloud. "A second chance."

 He nodded at the engraving he had secretly had done while she was in the capital. Thomas slipped her ring over her finger and raised her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to it. He lifted his eyes to hers. "That's been my wish for five years."

She slid his ring over his finger and pulled him close for a kiss. All the love they felt was poured into that single touch. She opened her eyes, smiling that this wasn't a dream. "It's been my wish too."

************

Epilogue…

Once upon a time, there was a duchess from a far away land who met a man from Hollywood. The instant they met; they knew that something special was about to happen. Over time they realized that they were in love. But like all fairy tales, turmoil struck and the two were forced to be apart for a long time. The only consolation the duchess had was in the little piece of her former relationship: a daughter.

The poor man in Hollywood, pining for his lost love, was left in the dark to her existence. Years of searching for the one who held his heart would all come to an end one fateful night in New York.

That was the moment for a second chance at love to occur. Fears and doubts plagued the couple, and yet they persevered in the hopes to one day be together. More trials and decisions were made until the moment they said I do on a rocky shore in Cordonia.

What was to follow surprised no one who knew the couple. The two settled into a happy life together. Thomas, our hero, continued to make movies and to love his wife and daughter with all his heart. He never took one moment he had with them for granted, having seen what life was like without them. He spent every moment he had making certain that they knew they were his entire world. Nothing else matter but his love and his family.

Amanda, our heroine, settled into a life as a stay-at-home mom. She and their daughter Kathleen supported and loved Thomas in all his endeavors. She never ceased in telling him how happy she was nor how much she loved him. For she knew what it was like to live a life believing he did not care for her. Her heart nearly burst with tenderness when Thomas had director’s chairs for each one of them on all his movie sets. They traveled everywhere together and loved every adventure they went on. She still made him see the humor in every inconvenience and the ability to be thankful for the ones you have by your side during them.

Three years after Thomas and Amanda married, they were welcomed with the birth of their twins. Ian and Elizabeth had their father wrapped around their fingers just like their older sister did. He marveled at being able to see everything firsthand. He was the one to insist on getting up in the middle of the night for bottle feedings and diaper changes. The twins smiled every time they heard his voice. Thomas and Amanda both felt that they had everything they could possibly want. They realized that their life together had been sweeter than either could have ever imagined. Neither could think of a single thing to wish for. Life was perfect.

Kathleen flourished under her parents love and care. Much like her father, she went on to take an interest in the fine arts. With her love of musicals, she began to study more of dance and singing. Unlike her mother, she had a clear alto voice that with further practice became quite pleasing to the ear. Her dance classes allowed her to wear all the sparkly outfits she wanted and even gained the eye of a certain young man when she was a teenager. Michael Rodriguez would go often to watch her practice, complimenting everything about her. Like his father, his sweet gentlemanly personality helped Thomas reluctantly give his approval for the two to date. They are still inseparable, supporting one another as Michael walks in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps to be an actor. He in turn follows Kathleen every chance he gets to New York, waiting backstage each evening with a bouquet of flowers and nothing but love in his heart. On one particular evening, he had a ring waiting for her in her dressing room. Without any hesitation, Kathleen said yes. Their wedding was termed Hollywood Royalty with two heirs of the most famous marrying. Neither paid any attention to the press. They only had eyes for each other and the future that awaited them.

As the twins grew, Ian shared his parents’ obsession with films. He would go on to work his way up to be his father’s assistant director. Then he set out on his own and made his first movie. Fearful he could never match the emotional depth his father so easily captured, Ian worked tirelessly over finding the right script, then finding the right actors. While his family worried over his health with the long hours and stress, he refused to back away for even a second from his dream. As the credits rolled on his premiere, he turned to see his father with tears in his eyes. Thomas pulled him into a hug and told him that he was his favorite director in the entire world. Amanda worried with the handsome looks he inherited from his father, that he might end up falling for the wrong woman. She still had nightmares of Kara Bennett and her pursuit of Thomas. But Ian was more like his father than anyone first realized. He didn’t fall in love until one fateful night when he bumped into a student form UCLA at a coffee shop he loved to frequent. Their impact caused her to drop all her books. When he voiced his surprise that they were all medical textbooks, she had blushed and blundered her way into his heart with her admission that she was following in her parents’ footsteps. Nearly a year later, Ian would marry Dr. Alice Ramsey in a lavish wedding in Boston.

Elizabeth had at first appeared to be a miniature Kathleen. Her features and immense sweetness mirrored those of her sibling yet, she possessed a quieter nature, more like her father’s. She was serious minded though was uncertain what she wished to do in life. Unlike her twin and sister, she was not drawn to a life of performance. She wanted to do something else, something more meaningful with her life. She knew what her father and siblings did brought joy to the world, yet she wanted to find a different way to serve people. On a trip back to her mother’s home country, she soon discovered what she was meant for. It had been years since she had last seen the future duke of St Orella.  Lord Xavier Beaumont had recently returned from college and was ready to begin his part in caring for the people of Cordonia. When his eyes met Elizabeth’s across the royal ballroom, all thoughts left his mind save for the one that he needed to meet her. Imagine his surprise that she was the same little girl he had once played with.  After a whirlwind courtship, the two married, much to the delight of Maxwell. He had always secretly hoped that his son would fall in love with one of Amanda’s daughters. He wanted the St Orella duchy to still be apart of her family. And now it was.

All in all, the Hunt family had a series of sweet and humorous moments over the years. Neither Thomas nor Amanda ever dreamed that their lives would one day resemble what they did. Thomas had once thought he was destined for life as a bachelor. Film would be his lifelong love, his movies his offspring. Amanda in turn believed her life tied permanently to St Orella. She had once thought she would marry a noble or a diplomat, have the necessary heir and spare and live a contented life amongst the court.

Both could be heard every once in a while say how thankful they were that life did not work out at all like they had once planned.

And with that…

They all lived happily ever after.

[dfroza]

To begin:

(again)

the reading of Scripture from the first book of the New Testament, the first chapter of Matthew that starts with A Family Tree:

[From Abraham to Christ]

This is the scroll of the lineage and birth of Jesus, the Anointed One, the son of David and descendant of Abraham.

Abraham had a son named Isaac, who had a son named Jacob, who had a son named Judah (he and his brothers became the tribes of Israel).

Judah and Tamar had twin sons, Perez and Zerah. Perez had a son named Hezron, who had a son named Ram, who had a son named Amminadab, who had a son named Nashon, who had a son named Salmon, who, along with Rahab, had a son named Boaz. Boaz and Ruth had a son named Obed, who was the father of Jesse, and Jesse had a son named David, who became the king.

Then David and Bathsheba had a son named Solomon, who had a son named Rehoboam, who had a son named Abijah, who had a son named Asa, who had a son named Jehoshaphat, who had a son named Joram, who had a son named Uzziah, who had a son named Jotham, who had a son named Ahaz, who had a son named Hezekiah, who had a son named Manasseh, who had a son named Amos, who had a son named Josiah, who was the father of Jeconiah.

It was during the days of Jeconiah and his brothers that Israel was taken captive and deported to Babylon. About the time of their captivity in Babylon, Jeconiah had a son named Shealtiel, who had a son named Zerubbabel, who had a son named Abiud, who had a son named Eliakim, who had a son named Azor, who had a son named Zadok, who had a son named Achim, who had a son named Eliud, who had a son named Eleazar, who had a son named Matthan, who had a son named Jacob, who was the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary the mother of Jesus, who is called “the Anointed One.”

So from Abraham to David were fourteen generations, and from David to the Babylonian captivity, fourteen generations, and from the Babylonian captivity to Christ, fourteen generations.

This was how Jesus, God’s Anointed One, was born.

His mother, Mary, had promised Joseph to be his wife, but while she was still a virgin she became pregnant through the power of the Holy Spirit. Her fiancé, Joseph, was a righteous man full of integrity and he didn’t want to disgrace her, but when he learned of her pregnancy he secretly planned to break the engagement. While he was still debating with himself about what to do, he fell asleep and had a supernatural dream. An angel from the Lord appeared to him in clear light and said, “Joseph, descendant of David, don’t hesitate to take Mary into your home as your wife, because the power of the Holy Spirit has conceived a child in her womb. She will give birth to a son and you are to name him ‘Savior,’ for he is destined to give his life to save his people from their sins.”

This happened so that what the Lord spoke through his prophet would come true:

Listen! A virgin will be pregnant,

she will give birth to a Son,

and he will be known as “Emmanuel,”

which means in Hebrew,

“God became one of us.”

When Joseph awoke from his dream, he did all that the angel of the Lord instructed him to do. He took Mary to be his wife, but they refrained from having sex until she gave birth to her son, whom they named “Jesus.”

The Book of Matthew, Chapter 1 (The Passion Translation)

to be accompanied by the closing verses of the same chapter in The Voice:

Years and years ago, Isaiah, a prophet of Israel, foretold the story of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus:

A virgin will conceive and bear a Son,

and His name will be Immanuel

(which is a Hebrew name that means “God with us”).

Joseph woke up from his dream and did exactly what the messenger had told him to do: he married Mary and brought her into his home as his wife (though he did not consummate their marriage until after her son was born). And when the baby was born, Joseph named Him Jesus, Savior.

The Book of Matthew, Chapter 1:24-27 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 34th chapter of 2nd Chronicles that documents the life & times of King Josiah:

[King Josiah]

Josiah was eight years old when he became king. He ruled for thirty-one years in Jerusalem. He behaved well before God. He kept straight on the path blazed by his ancestor David, not one step to the left or right.

When he had been king for eight years—he was still only a teenager—he began to seek the God of David his ancestor. Four years later, the twelfth year of his reign, he set out to cleanse the neighborhood of sex-and-religion shrines, and get rid of the sacred Asherah groves and the god and goddess figurines, whether carved or cast, from Judah. He wrecked the Baal shrines, tore down the altars connected with them, and scattered the debris and ashes over the graves of those who had worshiped at them. He burned the bones of the priests on the same altars they had used when alive. He scrubbed the place clean, Judah and Jerusalem, clean inside and out. The cleanup campaign ranged outward to the cities of Manasseh, Ephraim, Simeon, and the surrounding neighborhoods—as far north as Naphtali. Throughout Israel he demolished the altars and Asherah groves, pulverized the god and goddess figures, chopped up the neighborhood shrines into firewood. With Israel once more intact, he returned to Jerusalem.

One day in the eighteenth year of his kingship, with the cleanup of country and Temple complete, King Josiah sent Shaphan son of Azaliah, Maaseiah the mayor of the city, and Joah son of Joahaz the historian to renovate The Temple of God. First they turned over to Hilkiah the high priest all the money collected by the Levitical security guards from Manasseh and Ephraim and the rest of Israel, and from Judah and Benjamin and the citizens of Jerusalem. It was then put into the hands of the foremen managing the work on The Temple of God who then passed it on to the workers repairing God’s Temple—the carpenters, construction workers, and masons—so they could buy the lumber and dressed stone for rebuilding the foundations the kings of Judah had allowed to fall to pieces. The workmen were honest and diligent. Their foremen were Jahath and Obadiah, the Merarite Levites, and Zechariah and Meshullam from the Kohathites—these managed the project. The Levites—they were all skilled musicians—were in charge of the common laborers and supervised the workers as they went from job to job. The Levites also served as accountants, managers, and security guards.

While the money that had been given for The Temple of God was being received and dispersed, Hilkiah the high priest found a copy of The Revelation of Moses. He reported to Shaphan the royal secretary, “I’ve just found the Book of God’s Revelation, instructing us in God’s way—found it in The Temple!” He gave it to Shaphan, who then gave it to the king. And along with the book, he gave this report: “The job is complete—everything you ordered done is done. They took all the money that was collected in The Temple of God and handed it over to the managers and workers.”

And then Shaphan told the king, “Hilkiah the priest gave me a book.” Shaphan proceeded to read it out to the king.

When the king heard what was written in the book, God’s Revelation, he ripped his robes in dismay. And then he called for Hilkiah, Ahikam son of Shaphan, Abdon son of Micah, Shaphan the royal secretary, and Asaiah the king’s personal aide. He ordered them all: “Go and pray to God for me and what’s left of Israel and Judah. Find out what we must do in response to what is written in this book that has just been found! God’s anger must be burning furiously against us—our ancestors haven’t obeyed a thing written in this book of God, followed none of the instructions directed to us.”

Hilkiah and those picked by the king went straight to Huldah the prophetess. She was the wife of Shallum son of Tokhath, the son of Hasrah, who was in charge of the palace wardrobe. She lived in Jerusalem in the Second Quarter. The men consulted with her. In response to them she said, “God’s word, the God of Israel: Tell the man who sent you here, ‘God has spoken, I’m on my way to bring the doom of judgment on this place and this people. Every word written in the book read by the king of Judah will happen. And why? Because they’ve deserted me and taken up with other gods; they’ve made me thoroughly angry by setting up their god-making businesses. My anger is raging white-hot against this place and nobody is going to put it out.’

“And also tell the king of Judah, since he sent you to ask God for direction, God’s comment on what he read in the book: ‘Because you took seriously the doom of judgment I spoke against this place and people, and because you responded in humble repentance, tearing your robe in dismay and weeping before me, I’m taking you seriously. God’s word. I’ll take care of you; you’ll have a quiet death and be buried in peace. You won’t be around to see the doom that I’m going to bring upon this place and people.’”

The men took her message back to the king.

The king acted immediately, assembling all the elders of Judah and Jerusalem, and then proceeding to The Temple of God bringing everyone in his train—priests and prophets and people ranging from the least to the greatest. Then he read out publicly everything written in the Book of the Covenant that was found in The Temple of God. The king stood by his pillar and before God solemnly committed himself to the covenant: to follow God believingly and obediently; to follow his instructions, heart and soul, on what to believe and do; to confirm with his life the entire covenant, all that was written in the book.

Then he made everyone in Jerusalem and Benjamin commit themselves. And they did it. They committed themselves to the covenant of God, the God of their ancestors.

Josiah did a thorough job of cleaning up the pollution that had spread throughout Israelite territory and got everyone started fresh again, serving and worshiping their God. All through Josiah’s life the people kept to the straight and narrow, obediently following God, the God of their ancestors.

* * *

The Book of 2nd Chronicles, Chapter 34 (The Message)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Wednesday, march 3 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible, along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

A post by John Parsons that reflects upon this week’s Torah portion:

Our Torah portion this week (Ki Tisa) states that God endowed a man named "Betzalel" with the Spirit of God (רוּחַ אֱלהִים), and with wisdom (חָכְמָה), understanding (תְּבוּנָה), and knowledge (דַּעַת) - the same attributes used to describe God as the Creator of the Universe (Exod. 35:31; Prov. 3:19-20). Indeed, the name Betzalel (בְּצַלְאֵל) means “in the shadow of God” (from בְּ [in] + tzel [צֵל], “shadow” + El [אֵל], “God”) who "foreshadowed" Messiah in that 1) he was from the kingly tribe of Judah, 2) he was a young carpenter, 3) he was unusually "filled with the Spirit of God," 4) his father's name (Uri) means "my light" (James 1:17), 4) his assistant was called Oholiav (אָהֳלִיאָב), a name that means “my Father’s tent,” and 5) it was Betzalel (rather than Moses) who actually built the Mishkan, which was the pattern for the spiritual House of God (Heb. 3:3-6; 1 Pet. 2:5). Indeed, as the one who fashioned the “Ark of the covenant” where the blood would be presented for our atonement, Betzalel foresaw the message of the redemption of Messiah. [Hebrew for Christians]

3.2.21 • Facebook

and another post about faith:

Faith sees the invisible light, the truth of love that overcomes all the powers of darkness, hate, and fear. "I believe. I believe in the sun even when it is not shining; I believe in love even when feeling it not; and I believe in God, even when God is silent" (from an anonymous poem found on the wall of a cellar in Cologne, Germany, where some Jews hid from the Nazis).

The spirit testifies that there is "unfinished business," that there is more than meets the eye, that evil will not have the last word, and that tears will one day forever be wiped away. Despite the ambiguity, faith “hopes against hope” that the LORD God will intervene and bring everlasting healing to us all. As it says, "Let him who walks in darkness and has no light trust in the Name of the LORD (יִבְטַח בְּשֵׁם יְהוָה) and rely on his God." [Hebrew for Christians]

3.2.21 • Facebook

Today’s message from the Institute for Creation Research

March 3, 2021

Living in the Real World

“For, behold, I create new heavens and a new earth: and the former shall not be remembered, nor come into mind.” (Isaiah 65:17)

People often think they are being practical when they place material values ahead of spiritual, emphasizing that we have to “live in the real world.” The fact is, however, that we are not living in the real world at all but in a world that is dying and will soon be gone. “The world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever” (1 John 2:17). This is not even the world that God created, for that world was “very good” (Genesis 1:31). Because “sin entered into the world, and death by sin” (Romans 5:12), therefore, “the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now” (Romans 8:22). In fact, this world is not even as it was soon after God’s curse, for “the world that then was, being overflowed with water, perished” (2 Peter 3:6).

The present, post-Flood world is now under the dominion of Satan, who is “the prince of this world” (John 12:31) and of “all the kingdoms of the world” (Matthew 4:8). The Lord Jesus Christ came to “deliver us from this present evil world” (Galatians 1:4). As our text says, this world shall not even “be remembered, nor come into mind.” It “shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God” (Romans 8:21).

Therefore, we must “be not conformed to this world” (Romans 12:2). We must “live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world; Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ” (Titus 2:12-13). In the meantime, our true citizenship, if we have been born again in Christ, is in the real world to come, and we are His ambassadors to an alien land (2 Corinthians 5:20). HMM