#although i will say that the winged servant has taken over my life on many levels and i literally cannot function without it anymore

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

whumpee who’s an absolute dick to their caretaker. complete menace, known for being difficult to deal with. desperately looking for any semblance of control in their life. it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, because the worse they act, the more control has to be taken away by their caretaker to keep them safe

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

The Reunion - Part 2

Summary: We meet up with our crew after they have left Barab and after Friday’s episode of the Bad Batch getting their chips removed. Hunter x Reader. Echo x Reader.

A/N: Italics - Past conversations

The quotes Crosshair says during his nightmares are directly from the Bad Batch episodes.  All rights for those quotes, belong directly to the geniuses working on the Bad Batch TV show at Disney.  

Warnings: Slight mention of a beating, nothing described.  Medical procedures.

If I miss a warning, just let me know.

Words: 4,608

AO3 Link

Drop some love, a comment or a reblog, it’s all appreciated.  If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Previous -> Masterlist -> Next

“We don’t usually work with regs”

“Grow up, Wrecker”

“If your plans are so good, why did Commander Cody have to call us in?”

“An order is an order”

“Since when?”

“Good soldiers follow orders”

“He had us disobeying orders”

“I never thought you disobeying orders was a problem”

“Disobeying orders again over a kid?”

“You’re becoming a liability”

“You disobeyed orders”

“I did what I thought was right”

“You should have killed that Jedi, you disobeyed orders.”

“You never could see the bigger picture.  Now surrender.”

“Best stand down sergeant, make it easier on yourself.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Your move”

“Bad play, Hunter”

“You want to know why they put me in charge? It’s because I’m willing to do what needs to be done.”

“What seems to be the problem with CT-9904?” Lama Su asked Nala Se

The two Kaminoans looked on behind the one way mirror, “medic, what seems to be the problem with CT-9904?” asked Nala Se.

I looked towards the mirrored glass, “he’s having a nightmare”, I glanced from the mirror to Crosshair that laid on the med bed before me.  The Kaminoans wanted his inhibitor chip to be constantly activated and operating at peak efficiency; if they lost him, they would lose the backing of Admiral Tarkin, something they couldn’t have.  

How I wished Hunter was here?  How I wished I got to the ship in time?  I wished for a lot of things, mostly I wished that Crosshair’s chip hadn’t been activated, and that as the medic for Clone Force 99, I wasn’t the one in charge of keeping his chip activated.  Every time he laid down on that med bed, a little bit of me died.  I had to do this to my friend, my family, Hunter’s brother.  I tried at first to say that the chip was damaged, it wouldn’t activate, but they quickly dealt with my deception, in the form of a beating from two of the Clones who had taken me under their wing.  The beating from the two had knocked me out, when I came to Bad Batch was gone, Omega, my little helper, was gone, and Crosshair had tried to kill his own brothers.  

What’s worse is that Crosshair looked for every opportunity to wound me with his words, he wasn’t my Crosshair, he wasn’t the man I had grown to know and love as a brother.

‘Must be miserable to know you fell in love with a traitor.’

‘How does it feel knowing they left you?’

‘Only the Empire can provide what you need’

‘Join them and die’

“He seems to be having a particularly disturbing dream, he keeps thrashing” that voice, oh I hated that voice, it was responsible for the so called War Mantle project, Vice Admiral Rampart.  How I wish he could be the one on this bed before me, so I could make him suffer, the way he’s making Crosshair suffer.

“Indeed” oh there’s that other voice, Admiral Tarkin.  I loathed both men, and would be happy to see both die a very slow painful death.

“I do not believe we should continue for much longer, the procedure could cause irreparable damage”, I suggested.  I’m sorry Crosshair, I hope you can hear me.  I’m so sorry.  

“Very well” Admiral Tarkin’s voice filled the room, I could almost feel his breath on my skin.  It was revolting.  

“End the procedure, medic Kambe”

“Yes, Prime Minister”

I turned off the machine and watched as Crosshair's tortured face relaxed.  I moved beside him, and disconnected him from the machine, he was still unconscious, at this moment and I could pretend he was still my family, he was still the same Crosshair.  The one who taught me to shoot a target five klicks out.  The one who would tease Hunter and me, when we would go out on a date.  The one who said he always wanted a sister, and was happy I was his.  I discreetly held his hand, rubbing circles with my thumb on the back of his hand.  I’m sorry Crosshair.  I’m so sorry Cross.  

- - - - - - - -

“That medic seems very attached to CT-9904” Admiral Tarkin noticed

“Yes, she was the medic for Clone Force 99.  She got to know them very well and went on several missions with them.”

“Interesting.  She may prove useful.”

“How do you mean Admiral?” Asked Vice Admiral Rampart

“She may know something the clone doesn’t, or she could be used as bait, to bring in the others”

“Admiral, I must protest” Nala Se interjected, “she, unlike the clones, is not Empire property, she is hired by the Kaminoan facility, and works directly for us.”

“And yet, she gets paid via the Empire, does she not?  Or do you pay her directly, Prime Minister?”

“Uh … I would have to check our records, Admiral Tarkin”

“Don’t bother, I have checked already.  She gets paid by the Empire.  She used to receive funds from the Republic, and has subsequently received funds from the Empire, therefore she is a servant and employed by the Empire.  As such, we have the right to do as we wish with our workers.”

“Admiral, I would be more than happy to take over … keeping an eye on the medic” offered Vice Admiral Rampart.

“That is not necessary, it seems we have the best thing to keep an eye on her already” he motioned towards the unconscious clone.  

- - - - - - - - -

Although, I couldn’t hear what was being said behind the glass, I could sense eyes on me.  I grabbed a data pad and pretended to check Crosshair's vitals. If they were going to stay there watching me, then they wouldn’t get anything except a medic doing her job.   There had to be a way to get the chip out of his head, someway to go under the radar.  If Cross was back to normal then he and I would be able to get off of Kamino and find the boys.

I heard the door slide open behind me, “Medic Kambe”, I turned to face Nala Se, she was the only Kaminoan that I could somewhat tolerate, although in the end she was the biggest problem of all, as the Chief Medical Scientist, if it wasn’t for her, so many soldiers wouldn’t have been killed and treated less than they deserved.

“Yes, Nala Se?”

“You can move clone CT-9904 to the recovery room”

“Yes, Nala Se”

She stepped closer to me, it was odd and threw me off.  She disliked me more than anyone else, simply for making the clones feel like people and not property, it was one of the reasons I was assigned to an actual team, rather than the Kaminoan facility in general.  “You need to be careful,” she said in a lowered voice.

I kept busy preparing Cross for transport, “what do you mean?” I asked in a similar whisper, “they’re watching you, they want to use you to bring back Clone Force 99 and Omega.  We can’t have her land in the hands of the Empire.”

“I understand”

“Please be quick about transporting the clone, Admiral Tarkin wishes to see what effect the new enhancement has on CT-9904” she said in a louder voice.

“He has a name”

“He is a clone.  Clone CT-9904.”

“His name is Crosshair!”

“Medic Kambe! One more outburst and I’ll have you restricted to your quarters and brought up on charges of treason. Do you understand?”

“Yes”

“Good” without further word she stepped out of the room, maker I hated her.  I really did.

I looked at Cross one more time, he had a slight scarring from where the machine had performed it’s procedure. My only hope would be to perform surgery at night, or maybe if I was able to go on a mission with Cross again, distract him, get him isolated, and perform the surgery.   We both needed to get out of here, and soon.

- - - - - - -

“I don’t know if the plan will work” Fives offered

“Oh I’m sorry, do you have something better, vod?”

“Listen Phoenix Ghost, we are not judging you, it just seems risky” offered Hunter

“Well, what do you want to do?”  I asked, Rex had just left after we were able to get the chips out of the remaining Bad Batch, the idea was to take the med pod with us, or at the very least take it and hide it on a planet that we could bring Crosshair to.

“Why can’t we just use the method you did before, with the other clones?”

“That would require us going to a safe clone planet, the nearest one has over 500 of your brothers, inhabiting it.  I would gladly take you there, if the Empire thought you were dead.  However, as of right now, the risk is too great that someone would follow you, or someone spot your ship and decide to report you to the Empire simply for credits.  I’m sorry but I’m not putting your brothers at risk.  Either we find a way to bring Crosshair here, or find a way to bring the med pod to Crosshair.”

“Cyar’ika, it’s okay.  We trust you”

“Really, cause if you trusted me, you wouldn’t be questioning the plan right now”

“It’s just dangerous” Tech tried to reassure me.

I couldn’t help the glare that had appeared on my face, “seriously Tech? That’s your pathetic platitude, that it’s just dangerous.  Everything we’ve ever done, from the moment we either joined or were sold to the GAR has been a life filled with danger.  I personally have a scar on almost every quadrant of my body from one injury or another.”

They all looked to Echo, who simply nodded.  Oh that was it, “WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT HIM? DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I WOULD LIE ABOUT THAT?!!!”

“No, of course not” Hunter tried to calm me down, but the anger within was growing from their… I guess lack of trust.  

“Cyar’ika”

“Don’t Echo! Don’t Cyar’ika me!”

Echo let out a frustrated breath, being back with Echo was amazing, it’s like we hadn’t missed a beat, all those years being apart had evaporated within a matter of minutes.  

“Fine, ner riduur”

Ugh! Why did he have to tug that cord? All the anger I had a second ago washed away at remembering that we had indeed gotten married, I  dropped my shoulders and my head to my chest.  As soon as we were off Barab, we had found a place to lay low for a few weeks.  Echo didn’t want to waste anymore time and proposed, I didn’t want to waste any time either and said yes.  We both had wasted too many years apart, to waste another second not being with each other, was downright idiotic.

Fives had been his best man, Omega was my flower girl, Hunter walked me down the aisle, Tech officiated and Wrecker stood in as my man of honour.  Rex had come to wish us well, after the ceremony, he pulled me aside and gave me a big bear hug, “I’m happy for you ad’ika.  I wish you nothing but happiness.”

The words were there, but the warmth in the eyes weren’t, “I’m sorry Rex.  I’m sorry I couldn’t…”

He didn’t let me finish, “nothin’ to be sorry about, little one.  You followed your heart to the man you love.  It’s the heart I fell in love with, so how can I be upset about that” his warmth finally reached his eyes, we hugged one more time, “thank you, Rex.  I love you, vod”

“Love you too, vod’ika”

“Alright, let’s come up with another plan than” I offered calmer, I looked over at Echo, and smirked.

“How do you do that?” Whispered Wrecker

“It’s my gift” Echo chuckled, I simply shook my head, “what if we make a medical droid?” Asked Omega

“It is possible” Tech advised

“We are at the scrap yard so we could find the parts we need, it won’t be pretty, but it’ll get the job done” I added, Tech and I sat down to work out a plan and design for the medical droid.

“While we are doing this, maybe the five of you could try to find an actual droid, maybe if there is an actual medical droid, we won’t have to make one” suggested Tech.

“Fine, we know when we’re not wanted,” Fives teased.

“Hey Omega”, I called, she turned towards me, “good suggestion” I winked at her.  She ran over and hugged me, “thanks mo…I mean, thank you Phoenix Ghost”, I returned the hug and looked at Hunter, he had a smirk on his face, “hun, I think your dad’s waiting for you”.  Hunter shot me a look, I couldn’t help but smile back, at the end of the day we were all co-parenting, so what was one or two more parents, uncles, or aunts.  Whatever way she looked at us, we were family.

- - - - - - - - -

“How does it feel, vod?” Fives asked Echo

“How does what, feel?”

“Being married to the love of your life?” He elbowed Echo

Echo couldn’t help the blush that appeared on his face, “like I’m living a dream that I never want to wake up from”.

“Awww, that’s so sweet” shouted Wrecker

“Alright you guys focus, Omega and I will go done here" Hunter motioned to the corridor to his left, "Wrecker, go with Fives and Echo” as Hunter motioned to the corridor on his right.

“Copy that” Fives answered.

Hunter and Omega headed down what looked like a medical hallway, there were all kinds of beds, against the wall, “Hunter?”

“Yes, Omega”

“Are you married?”

“What?”

“Like Phoenix and Echo?”

Hunter didn’t answer for a minute, Omega could see something was bothering him, “I”m sorry, should I not have asked?”

“It’s okay, kid.  No, I’m not married.”

“But there was someone?”

“Yes”

“Medic Kambe?”

Hunter stopped and looked at Omega, “how do you know that?”

“I trained under her as a medical assistant, she always used to mention Clone Force 99”

“That’s how you learned all about us”

Omega nodded, “she treated me like I was …”

“Like you were a person”

Omega nodded, “that’s how she treated us too.”  Hunter continued examining the rooms, and realized more than likely his love had seen what was happening to Omega and how she was treated.  He could see his tiny love stepping up to protect Omega.  Knowing her, she probably even had to fight to be Omega’s trainer.

“Do you think we’ll see her again?”

“I don’t know, kid.  I hope so, I really do.”

“Why didn’t she come with us?”

Hunter let out a sigh, “I don’t know, but something must have happened, otherwise she would have been waiting for us in the hangar.”

“I hope if we do find her, you two get married”

“Really?”

“Yes, she makes you happy.  You clearly make her happy.  She always had a smile on her face when she spoke of you, she kept her biggest smile when she mentioned you specifically.”

Hunter smiled at that, hopefully soon enough, he’ll have his brother back, and his love in his arms.  

- - - - - - -

“Any luck?”

“There’s no such thing as luck” chuckled Fives

“What are you? Obi-wan?” I asked

“Hey how do you think I got so good with the ladies?  I learned from the best” he laughed.

“Fives, you were good with the ladies, because they took pity on you.  Not because you had any of the charm, Obi-wan had.”

“How do you know about Obi-wan’s charms?” Asked Echo.

“Hmm… what, my love?”

“We will discuss this later”

“Whatever you say, ner cyare”

“Oh don’t try and placate me with sweet sayings”

“As fun as it is to be in the middle of what’s probably your first argument” Tech interrupted, “did you find a medical droid?”

“I did!” Shouted Wrecker

“Good.  By the way", Tech directed towards Echo and I, "I would like to see how an argument between married couples proceeds, it would be interesting to learn and see first hand” inquired Tech.

“Yeah, not gonna happen” I said, “let’s get this droid adjusted. Faster we get this thing on the ship, the faster we get out of here, and the faster we can get to Crosshair.”

“I think I have an idea about how to get Crosshair out in the open,” Hunter offered.

“How?” Asked Wrecker

“I’ll tell you guys when we’re back on the ship”

- - - - - - - - - - -

“That’s a bold plan” Fives commented

“But it has the potential for working” I appeased

“How do we know we can trust her?” Tech questioned, “how do we know she didn’t wilfully not show up? Had a change of heart?”

“Come on Tech, you know her.  She loves us.” Hunter looked to the ground before continuing, “she loves me, she would never … She was detained.  I know it.  Something prevented her from meeting us in that hangar.”

“Okay, so you want to send a message that will undoubtedly put her in danger, either on the mission, or before the mission, and definitely after the mission.  Basically, you are okay painting a giant target on her back, Hunter?  Cause that’s what you’re doing by sending that message.”

“I know Phoenix, but it’s the only thing I can think of to do.”

“Then I’ll help to try and limit the damage.  First things first, we are going to need to split up, find a planet to draw their attention to, hopefully one that’s uninhabitable.”

“With lots of ground coverage” offered Wrecker

“No high ground” suggested Tech

“With lots of animals” said Fives, we all turned to look at him, “what? If he can get distracted that gives us an advantage, I’m not crazy”, we all nodded along.  “He does have a point” chimed in Echo.

“What about Felucia?” Hunter suggested

“It’s not inhabitable.  I actually think I have a place.” I offered

“Where?” They all asked at once.

“I can’t say.”

“Well if you can’t say, how can we use it then?” Fives asked

“Because I have to ask permission to go there, it could put someone in danger, and that could be worse then …”

“Then having the Empire after us right now?” Wrecker inquired.

“Yes, actually.  They’re very dear and special to me, I need to …sorry guys, I’m gonna have to take over the bunk for now.”

“Oh” said Echo

“Oh” I nodded.

“Oh what?” Hunter asked

“Ohhh!” Clued in Fives adding, “I thought he was dead.

“About as dead as you and I are”

“What are we talking about?” Wrecker asked Tech

“I don’t know” Tech answered shrugging his shoulders.

“Sorry guys, I can’t say more, or talk more about it.  Like I said, I need the bunk, no one come in until I emerge.  It could be several hours, I suggest we stay in hyperspace as much as possible.”

“What’s going on?” Omega asked as she stepped out of her room.

“Sorry guys, but we can’t talk about it” Fives answered, “just trust us, when we say she needs to do this, and you really can’t disturb her, she needs the quiet.”

- - - - - - - - -

It had been a while since I sat here meditating, trying to connect with my older teacher.  I had been a force-sensitive child, and was about to take the Jedi trials, to be ordained as a Jedi Knight, but the anger within me had proved to be too volatile, with the war in effect.  It was important to not let those who could be in situations where the constant fighting, the constant bloodshed and the insurmountable injustice would be present all the time.  It could lead one to use the force in an unnatural way, causing one to take actions into your own hands.

I closed my eyes, and focused on the force, being one with the force was always easy for me, which was why the Council was concerned when they felt my anger.

“Little one, hmmm? Yes, hmmm”

“Hello Master Yoda”

“Why reach out through the force did you, hmm? Alright are you, hmmm?”

“I seek advice, Master, the advice is not for me, I’m alright, but it is to save two innocents.”

“To save a clone called Crosshair you wish, and medic called Kambe.  Innocent, Kambe is.  However, shed innocent blood, Crosshair has.”

“It’s not his fault, Master, it’s his chip.  If we remove the chip, he’ll be back to his old self.”

“Possible, removing stone from a puddle is, damage the stone caused when thrown in is permanent.  Back, what makes you think the Crosshair you once knew would come, hmm? Hmmmm.”

“Because it happened to one of the clones I am travelling with.  His chip activated, and he tried to kill Omega, the little clone girl, once his chip was removed he went back to normal, although he remembered the incident.”

“Wrecker activated for, how long was, hmm?”

“Not long, maybe about 20 to 30 minutes.”

“Crosshair been activated, how long has, hmm?”

“Since the start of the Empire”

“Over time weeds grow over stone, in the puddle, that is.  When you pull out stone, pull out weeds too.  The damage caused, irreversible, could be.  Prepared to face that consequence are you, hmm? Hmmm?”

“At least he would be free.”

“Of clone life free from, hmm? No.  Free from the Empire, hmm? No.  His other self free from, hmm? Possibly.  Plague his mind constantly, the nightmares of what he has done will.  Carry, can you soothe the pain his soul will, hmm?  If this chip you free him from, have to help carry his burden, you will.  Ready for that are you, hmm?”

“Yes”

“Then I offer, what advice can hmm? Yes, hmmm”

“We need a planet that is shrouded in darkness, with no major high ground, lots of foliage and animals”

“You use Dagobah to draw him out want to, hmm?”

“With your permission, Master, yes.  But if you feel it is too big of a threat, maybe you can recommend another planet, one that can wreak havoc on a sniper.”

“My permission, you have.  I will give you coordinates that will put any in danger not, and your purposes that will serve.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Your anger and your fear I no longer sense.  Changed, what has, young one, hmm?”

“Ever since my ‘death’, I no longer lived for myself but for others.  With the help of others and my skills we were able to save 2500 soldiers.  Brave men, each one.”

“That is all not. Herh herh herh”.

“No, Master.  Ha, never could hide anything from you.  I married the love of my life, Echo”

“Happy for you little one I am.  Continue learning from the force.  Serve you in the future, it will.  To the dark side within you I no longer sense the temptation.  However, to say goodbye to the man you love, be prepared, when the time comes, or to the dark side again find yourself on the path.

“Yes, Master.  Thank you.”

“With you may the force be.  Hmmmm”

“And with you, Master.”

- - - - - - - - -

“How long does this usually take?” Hunter asked Echo

“Once it took her - - - what was it? Fives, 12 hours?”

“I thought it was longer, closer to 15 or 16”

“It depends”

“On what?” Asked Tech

“On how easily I can connect to the force”, I answered.  They all turned to see me emerge from the bunk room, “how long was I in there for?”

“About 8 hours,” Echo answered.

“Do we have a plan?”

“We do, Hunter” I smiled, not only did we have a plan, but I had the privilege to continue learning about the Force, who knows what will happen in the future, but as of right now I was very hopeful.

“So where are we going?” Asked Omega

“Dagobah, we’re going to Dagobah, but first I need to eat, secondly there are a few things we need to discuss and thirdly, only three or four of us should go, the others should keep Omega safe.”

“I feel like there’s going to be a whole Jedi sort feel to this story” Fives laughed

“Well not completely, but you’re not wrong either” I laughed along with him.

“Does that mean, you’re going to tell me how you know about Obi-wan’s charms?” Asked Echo

“You’re never going to leave that alone, are you?” Hunter and Tech got up and headed for the cockpit, Omega headed for her room, Fives and Wrecker headed for the bunk room, leaving Echo and I alone.

“Why won’t you just tell me?”

“Why do I need to tell you about something that is so trifling, and doesn’t matter in our current predicament?”

“Because I need to know”

“You don’t need to know, what you want to know is if I personally experienced his charms, isn’t that true?”

“I … how … that’s …” Echo rubbed the back of his neck after his failure to start his sentence, “that’s not what I want to know.”

“Then why do you keep asking that question”

“I just didn’t think that Jedis, you know”

I just looked at him, “Echo, I married you.  I was learning to become a Jedi, remember?”

“Yeah, but I just didn’t think you were with anyone before me, I thought we had that in common”, that’s what he wanted to know! Man, why was he beating around the bush?

“Echo, my love” I kneeled before, cradling his face with one hand, holding his right hand with my left, “I love you.  Obi-wan is just a horrible flirt.  I was never interested in him.  I wasn’t interested in anyone other than you.  You have been and always will be the love of my life.  No one can compare to you.  They can’t hold a candle to your bravery, your courage, your kindness, your sweetness, the way you care for me, the way you look after your brothers, the way you look after Omega.  You are the best man I have ever known.  No one will ever change my opinion about that.  I love you and only you, and I have never been with anyone other than you.”

Echo looked into my eyes, leaned forward and kissed me, with all the passion he could muster.  “I really wish we had our own room, and our own ship, right now.”

I laughed out loud, “well let’s get to a safe haven where we can pick up another ship, and you and I take an hour for ourselves.”

“I think maybe four hours is needed”

“Ha, if only we had that kind of time my love, an hour and a half?”

“Two”

“Done, but then we have to get this plan under way as soon as we land.”

“I know”, I pressed my forehead against his, soaking in his scent; Master Yoda was right, I would have to prepare myself for the eventuality of losing him for real, one day.  When I had thought I had lost him the first time, it nearly destroyed me, and it was because I wasn’t able to have a future with him.  Wasn’t able to live freely with him.  Now, I could.  If I were to lose him tomorrow, I can be comforted in knowing that I had married, and had been able to love him without reservation.  I would have no regrets with how I loved him.

“I love you, Echo”

“I love you, Phoenix”

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@lady-ren​

[five-rivers]

the Knights and the Dragon

A short original fiction piece that’s been kicking around in my head for a while.

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A good knight climbs the mountain to slay the dragon.  

The road, what little of it there is, is steep and treacherous.  He leaves his beloved horse in the village, not wanting to risk the mare breaking a leg or, if worst should come to pass, being eaten by the dragon.  

The village headsman, a minor noble, landed gentry, if barely, scowls at the knight as he leaves on foot.  His daughter was the last one taken by the beast.  

“Preparing for failure?” he asks, face crumpling into a sneer around bloodshot eyes.  

The knight shrugs.  The man is grieving, and he has no desire to delay his journey. Privately, he thinks he would be fool not to prepare for failure.  

He has seen many men and women die.  Some left him with inheritance, with curses, with benedictions, with pleas.  Some left him with nothing but the wetness on his blade.  

The knight wonders if, should he fail to slay the dragon, he will leave the beast with anything but a full stomach.  A storyteller he once heard claimed that dragons were the equal of any man when it came to wit, and more than equal in magic. But he’d heard otherwise, as well. Perhaps they varied.  Perhaps they were like dogs, where one breed may seem like another animal entirely in comparison to another.  

On the ragged, rock-strewn path, he has no way of telling.  All he knows is that the creature has carried off two women, each the day before their respective weddings.  All he knows is that there is a threat to the people of the king he has sworn to serve. All he knows is that his sword is straight, his armor sound, and he has faced things much worse than a dragon.  

(Do not ask him what things those are if you are wise.)

Halfway up the mountain there is a smoking cave. Around the mouth of that cave is the detritus of life and fresh washing.  The knight spends several long moments staring at it, at a loss for why a dragon might need laundry, of all things.  Laundry made up of petticoats, at that.  

Then a woman walks from around the next bend in the path, carrying a basket of herbs.  She stops when she catches sight of him and calls out. Soon, seven more women emerge from various hiding spots.  

Their clothes are simple, and they wear their hair in long braids.  Two of them are from the village the knight had come through, and the knight wonders at the fact that they are alive at all.

At length, at a hand-carved table in the cave, only a few yards from the dragon’s hoard, it is explained to him that the dragon iss away and would most likely return with a new young lady in tow in a few.  The dragon, the women say, did not eat them all at once, but keeps them as servants until one of them should displease it.  

Their words paint a picture that make the knight’s heart stir with horror.  

“You should leave,” he says.  “While the dragon is away.  Then, even should I fail to slay it, you shall be safe.”  He finds his eyes on the woman he first saw, the herb-gatherer.  She is no beauty, but her eyes are a green that captivates.  

“Sir Knight,” she says, voice deep and sad, “would that we could.  But should we leave while the dragon yet lives, he will go back to our homes and gobble up our families.  We cannot go.”

“You are the one who should leave,” says the eldest woman, who is of an age with the knight’s eldest sister.  Her eyes, too, are green.  “This dragon has eaten many knights.  Look.” She points at the dragon’s hoard.

There is more iron and steel in it than gold, all of it brightly polished.  The knight recognizes some of the sigils, and although none of them belong to men he counts as friends, he could acknowledge that they are strong. Were strong.  

The sight sends a chill down his spine.  He turns away.  

“I will not run,” he says.  “Surely, you want your freedom.”

“That is all any of us have ever wanted,” says the first woman.  “One we would pay for, gladly.  But, as you will not flee, neither shall we.”

The knight is silent at that.  To refuse to flee from such a creature, and none of them with any weapon, any defense beside their wit…  The knight must say they are braver than he.  

He would, he thinks, be a fool not to use that.

“Then,” he said, “for your freedom, help me slay this dragon.”

.

Her name is Roxanne, he learns as the week passes.  She is, he thinks, someone he could come to love.  But she is promised to another, he learns.  All the women are.

The knight keeps his distance, even as the nine of them plot and plan, even as he aids them in their daily chores, even as he learns their names and lives and little habits.

He is not, perhaps, keeping his distance very well.  

As they climb into the mountain meadow above the cave to harvest what plants they may, he and Roxanne discuss the dragon.  Its claws. Its fangs.  Its head.  Its eyes. Its tail.  Its wings.  Its belly. Its heart.  She speaks most of its heart, and how the knight might pierce it, his sword sliding through the weaker armor of its belly as she and the other women pick clean its scales.  

She shows him a rabbit trap she had set the other day.  She dresses the kill with a fine bone-handled knife.  

The knight thinks he may be in love.  

He has been saving a sachet of foreign spices for himself as a treat.  They go very well with the rabbit.  The ladies applaud him.  

.

Two more weeks pass, and the knight wonders if, perhaps, the dragon fell afoul of some misfortune. Misfortune for it, that is.  

“It has been gone for longer before,” said Roxanne.  “Two months, once, before it brought Anor.”  She nods at one of the younger women, who is from a town in the next valley over. Anor returns the nod in agreement. “Be patient.”

He is patient, but he is, perhaps, somewhat concerned for his horse.

.

It is another two weeks before the women reveal their ruse, and the knight both wonders why he didn’t see it before, and why they did not kill him on any of the nights he slept among them, undefended.

“We did not come here to be killers,” says the eldest.  “Only to live our lives free.”

“And what of the shields and armor?” he asks.  “What of the hoard?”

Roxanne shrugs in a way most would proclaim to be unladylike.  “The mountain is steep.  It isn’t our fault if they fall from their horses.”

The knight elects not to broach the subject again.  As he said, the men who once wore that armor were not his friends.  

“I should leave, in that case,” he says, bowing.  “I thank you for your hospitality and apologize for my intrusion.”  For intrusion it was and is.  

“Leave?” asks Roxanne.

“I assure you, I will tell no one of what you do here.”  He smiles and hopes it comes off as charming.  “Perhaps I will say the dragon enchanted me.”

“I mean,” she says, coming closer, “you intend to leave by yourself.”

“I had thought—” begins the knight.   “You would come with me?”

“I would.”

“I have no inheritance,” warns the knight.  “It all went to my older brother.  I carry with me all I own, save my horse.”

Roxanne smiles, and her smile is charming.  And sharp. “My dowry,” she says, indicating the cave and all that lies within, “will be more than enough, I think.”

.

For the second time, the knight does not ride away from the village.  Instead, he leads his horse forward, Roxanne perched rather nervously on top.  She is not as used to travel as he is, and they intend to settle far, far away.  

.

A knight rides up the mountain to slay the dragon.  This is a different knight from before.  He comes months after the good knight and Roxanne have left.

He stops to rest his mount.  He has no great affection for the beast, but it is valuable, and the road is difficult.

The stolen women, he thinks, each gone on their wedding day, are most likely dead, eaten by the beast. Not that it particularly matters to him, except that each victim increases the glory he will receive when he kills the dragon.  

He is very concerned with glory.  It is how he will rise from his present station.  Experience, too, is important to him.  Should he slay this dragon, he may slay others.  There is a great dragon in the north, and the king will exchange his daughter for its heart.  Or so they say.  

But, first, this small one.

He urges his mount higher.  He comes across the women at their washing.  

It is a stroke of luck, he thinks.  Another note in his story.  He speaks to them of their luck.  Of the fortune they have received with his arrival.  

He comes up with a plan. He shall lie in wait while the women distract the dragon, and, when the time is right, he shall kill it in one blow.

They say the dragon will return in the night when the moon is highest.  The knight prepares.  He sharpens his sword, tightens his armor, hides his horse.  He takes the first serving of the supper the women prepare.  It is bland and bitter, and he salts it from his own pouch.  

He settles behind the dragon’s hoard to wait.  

.

Outside, while the moon rises, the women take each other’s hands and move in a circle. Faster.  Faster.  Faster. Each was taught the steps to this dance by those who came before them, and the steps are old, old, old.

They are the head of the dragon.  

The eyes.

The wings.

The claws.  

The tail.  

The belly.

The heart.

.

In the cave, the knight sleeps.  The women know their herbcraft.  The knight would be no match for the dragon, even awake, but why take the risk?  They would be fools to do so.  

.

“I think we should leave this mountain, soon,” says the eldest, cleaning blood from her mouth.  “It has been too long.  Too many knights.”

“I should think, more knights are better,” says the dragon’s eyes, brushing her hair.  “For food, treasure, and love.”

“There are too few of us for love,” argues the dragon’s claws.  “I am glad for Roxanne, but the magic will not work for six.”  She looks at the heart.  “Though, I certainly wish you luck with love.”

“I think we should go, as well,” says the heart.  “South, perhaps.  I liked the spices Roxanne’s knight had from there.”  She licks her lips.  “I’ve heard it is a rich country, full of gold.”

“South it is, then,” says the eldest, the dragon’s head.  “Now, what should we do with the horse?”

.

That night, if any who lived around the mountain looked up, they would have seen something that, if you squinted, might have been a dragon carrying a horse.  They did not look up.

.

The good knight wakes to a rather strange sight in the morning.  The number of his horses doubled overnight.  The second horse looks to his eyes to be rather… anxious.  

“One more bride gift, it seems,” says Roxanne, leaning against him.  

The knight frowned. “How…”  The question trails away as he looks into Roxanne’s too-green eyes.

Well.  

Well.  

He would be a fool, to look a gift horse in the mouth, wouldn’t he?

[sabineelectricheart]

A Hike Up The Stairwell

Summary: To say that Byleth was beyond sick of being pregnant was an understatement.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1200

Notes: Happy Mother’s Day to all women with swollen feet and annoying husbands!

To say that Byleth was beyond sick of being pregnant was an understatement.

As the Queen of all of Fódlan entered her eighth month of pregnancy, she could not possibly escape the zealous vigilance of the people of the continent. Nobles would come from all directions with notes, gifts and questions about the child, observers of the faith gathered on the gates of the castle offering songs and asking for blessings, and not even in her innermost compound, in her own Goddess-appointed home, she was in peace. The stifling watch of her husband was suffocating, whether it was his own steely gaze or that of the servants who would scurry back to him if she dared lift anything even remotely heavy.

Even her body, in which she could always count on through her many years of martial life, seemed to have betrayed her. Her bump was no longer a bump; it was a veritable mountain which she still struggled to manoeuvre sometimes. The monks and healers visited her twice daily, and if she crossed paths with the Head Medic, he coerced she into an additional check-up. His herbs and potions were getting increasingly disgusting, and even the thought of a vulnerary made her nauseous.

She can, in a way, understand the concern. Pregnancies were no different from travelling forests at night, and you could not count that you would reach the other end alive. The precedent is not good either, seeing that both parents killed their mothers at birth, but still.

Had Byleth been ill or weak during the whole process, she would have been more tolerant, but she has not. In fact, most of her stress had its origins on the pressure of their vigilance, and this had to stop. Goddess, there was still a whole Moon of this torture. She wonders if the force of thought alone can induce healthy birth.

A voice brought her back to the present. “My lady, are you sure you want to wear the corset?”

Byleth looked at one of the maids helping her dress and nodded.

“Yes, but not that one.” She said gently. “I have had a larger one made with special ties. It shall not lace as tightly, but it is better than nothing.”

With a lot of faffing, the consort and her maids managed to get her dressed in a loose-fitting linen gown and flat shoes. Dismissing her maids, she left her chamber and set off to the King’s Chamber.

When Dimitri had taken wind of her pregnancy, he had her moved immediately to the eastern end of the castle, on the ground floor, to have her as close as possible to the medical wing and as far as possible from staircases. She acquiesced so to ease the man’s concern, as long as he would promise to come and see her once a day.

Over the winter, it was easy to comply to her exigence, but, as the New Year’s came and went, the planting season began and the King’s time became more and more precious. By the third or fourth time that he forgot his compromise, Byleth began making the hike herself, one swollen foot in front of the other, slow as one may be with a large sack of grain hanging out their stomach.

Although she hated to admit it, climbing four floors of stairs was a mistake, and only a quarter of the way up, she was panting and her ankles were aching most terribly. Forcing herself up the winding stairs, she clutched at the wall, her entire world spinning.

Feeling that it was safe to give up rather than force herself the rest of the way, the Queen slid down the wall to settle on the cool stone steps, pushing hair from her sweaty forehead from the effort and the springtime heat, laying a hand across her swollen belly. It seemed her babe had decided now would be a perfect time to practice their dancing. Groaning lowly, she tipped her head back, leaning back on her elbows.

The door to the stairwell slammed shut and she heard even footsteps making their way up. Sighing, she braced herself for the upcoming lecture from Dimitri.

“Beloved? What on earth are you doing?” His voice was harsh and stern, but as she looked up at him, she saw care and tenderness flickering through his eyes.

“Thought I’d pay you a visit.” Byleth said weakly, a half-smile gracing her lips as Dimitri knelt before her. “But clearly... My efforts would have been wasted.”

Sighing, her husband caressed her cheek briefly, before kissing her forehead.

“Wait there.” He commanded and she rolled her eyes.

“I am not exactly apt to be going anywhere, Dima.” The former mercenary called after him as he hurried back down the stairs.

He soon returned, and began helping her to her feet.

“You have called for the Head Medic, have you not?” She teased, leaning into him as he helped her slowly up the stairs to their former marital chambers.

“Yes, of course I have. You looked like death on those stairs. I will not have you endangering yourself or the child by doing stupid things like attempting to climb this castle alone.” His voice softened and he squeezed her thickened waist slightly. “I have sent my squire to fetch you something appropriate for you to eat as well. You must keep your strength up.”

“Despite what you may think, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” She insisted. “I have done it for years. In fact, if I may very well remember our past, I took care of you while I was doing it.”

Dimitri huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Have you had anything to eat at all today?” He questioned with his brow arched.

“No, I left my chambers before they brought me any food. I was meaning to break my fast with you once I got up those bloody stairs, but- Ah!” Byleth broke her train of thought and let out a sharp grunt.

“What is it, what is wrong?” The monarch said hurriedly, pulling her up the last few steps and into his presence chamber.

“Nothing.” The Queen gritted. “It is just your bloody child… Ah!... They are doing somersaults in my belly. They are getting too big to move around inside of me.”

Byleth was silent for a moment, face scrunched in discomfort until her baby settled down, leaving their mother a shadow of herself, hoping for nothing more than a few hours of sleep. Sighing, she pulled away from Dimitri and began walking into the sleeping quarters of his chamber.

“Where do you think you are going?” Dimitri asked, amused.

“For a lie down. Have my things brought up here for the remainder of my pregnancy. I do not think I would be able to get back down those stairs with a belly like this.” The Queen joked, pulling back the covers as the blond man watched from the door. “You are very welcome to join me, Lord Husband, if your busy schedule allows for it. Though, you must be warned, if your hands wander, I may sever them. I blame you entirely for my current situation.”

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

[1-800-sunset]

Rei was the goddess of ice and snow. With great peace and beauty she painted towns with a gentle snow in winter. She was a beloved goddess to many people and towns with temples built in her honor and celebrations. However when she was forcefully married Enji the god of fire. He wanted her to bear his children so that they could become powerful gods, and her titan parents wanted to tie her down so that she may not realize how powerful she could be. After her marriage, her winters were harsh and unforgiving. Rei was treated terribly by her husband and wept for her children that were forced to train their powers too young and when they couldn’t do what their father wanted he punished them. 

Touya was the oldest and he had inherited his father’s red hair and turquoise eyes, but his fire was brighter and hotter than his father’s. However he was stubborn and resented his father, leaving him to be banished from the pantheon as a lone god of chaos flames and cremation; hair turning a charcoal black. Fuyumi was her second oldest, with hair as white as Rei’s but steaks of red from her father and eyes a gentle grey. She had inherited Rei’s ability to frost the trees and grass but because she held some of her father’s heat she could not command the ice as well as her mother. Natsou, her third oldest, shared her white hair and grey eyes as well. Natsou created such beautifully made snowflakes, each one unique. He held the same resentment towards his father as Touya but after the banishment of Touya distanced himself from the pantheon but never gave up his role. Now her youngest Shoto had split hair red on the right side and white on the left. His eyes were heterochromatic as well with one grey eye and one blue eye. He was the one who had inherited both his parents abilities. With his left he could command the ice and snow as well as his mother and with his right he could control flames. He was the most powerful of her children.She was forbidden to see them during their time of training. Which only fueled her anguish and fed her winters.

 She was stuck in a loveless marriage and missed her children growing up. But she didn’t notice that her winters were wiping out crops that people need and temperatures were always so cold. Many people died because there was no warmth  to keep them alive. The people did not know what to do and believed they had done something to upset the goddess of snow. It was until a village decided that perhaps a virgin sacrifice would please her to end the harsh cold that has already taken too many souls. So they raised a young man with beautiful red wings that was given the title Hawks to be that sacrifice for the goddess. It was on his 23rd birthday that the time came. His birthday was on the 28th of December which was towards the end of the first month of winter. They took him to a pristine white quartz temple which was built in the snow goddesses honor. Rei was aware that there was a presence in one of her temples and decided to check in and watch from afar. It has been awhile since she had anyone come visit her temple. There was a circle of sigils and offerings with a young man in the middle and a cloaked person standing over him chanting with a dagger in their hand.

The young man looked like he was the child of the sun. Hair and eyes both shining gold, beautiful scarlet wings draped behind him, not to mention his eyes had the markings of a bird. Although Rei thrived in the night and was her sacred time of the day, she could see his beauty. The morning and sun were too intense and blinding for her, but this child of the sun radiated a gentle warmth. The same warmth she received from her children. But his eyes were not filled with that Same warmth; they looked sad as if someone had stolen his sunlight and pocketed. 

He was sporting white silk robes with a gold trim falling down his shoulders revealing sunkissed tan skin; those were traditional robes for a Virgin Sacrifice. A crown of Rindou flowers on his head. The Rindou were her sacred flower indicating this sacrifice was for her. She couldn’t let this man die because of her. It was unfair to end this man’s life who hasn’t wronged her in any way. It was her fault that the humans believed they had wronged her. She had to intervene. Enji had once told her that she was a weak woman with a bleeding heart. But she would no longer listen to that man. Rei was going to take back her own life.

Before the dagger was swung down ready to pierce the heart of the young man, she turned it into a pure white dove. With a strong yet soft voice she commanded the group to leave  the temple and let the man stay with her. Once it was just the blond she emerged from a pale blue glow, she was tall and in long elegant dark blue robes with beautiful white snowflakes dancing around her. The man’s golden eyes widened in shock and bowed before her.

“Please forgive me, my child. It was my fault that your people thought they needed to sacrifice your life for the sake of survival. I will give you the freedom that was taken from you, you are to do as you wish from now on.”

“My goddess before I was taken by the mages my family worshipped your husband the god of fire but I have been raised to worship you. You are my patron goddess. Although I am grateful that you granted me freedom I wish to become your servant. I have nothing left for me here. I might as well do something for you”

Rei wasn’t expecting for the young man to look at her with such a warm gaze. She thought he should be angry with her for almost costing him his life. But here he was offering to be by her side. It’s been such a long time since someone had said she was their patron goddess. Most people have decided to worship Shoto if it came to offerings to the cold. Rei sees that this man has suffered but she could not bring the mortal with her to the Pantheon as much as she wanted to. They didn’t allow mortals to live there only divine entities. Immortality is possible to gain but usually one who has to do a great heroic deed or marry a deity. However she did have an idea to keep him close to her.

“My dove, I can not take you with me. But if you so desire to continue to be of my own I know where to take you. I will make sure that he will take good care of you. But the road is long and you will get tired. The decision is yours.”

“My goddess I would do anything for you. I accept the journey.”

“What is your name, my dove?” 

“Keigo is my name.”

“Rise Keigo for we have a long journey ahead of us. I will guide you.”

That winter was like the ones she had brought before her marriage, with snow falling slowly down from the heavens. From afar she knew Natsuo was creating snow flakes and sending them her way. She felt Fuyumi gently frost grass and trees while Shoto helped create icicles on the branches. Rei knew that Touya must be watching the winter from his home. She knew he always loved the cold. She felt a great deal of offerings of gratitude that winter. 

Rei had Keigo by her side and learned a great deal about him, enough to learn he had a great deal of hardships. She could say that she had become rather fond of him, Rei knew it was going to be hard to say goodbye to the little dove when the time came. She just hoped that her plan would work, she glanced to her side where Keigo had been sitting staring off at the frozen lake. Snow flakes were lightly dusting red feathers but Keigo was unbothered. After all she had blessed him with the gift to withstand the cold and to be able to lower his temperature to keep cool in the heat. Where he was going he was going to need this gift. 

By the time spring was around the corner when they reached their destination. The obsidian temple, were there was torches lit with blue flames. Only Rei and Natsou knew of the hidden temple and of who lives there. Keigo walked the steps behind her, white robes pristine after last night’s washing. The top was part was still fell around his shoulders and a single Rindou was tucked behind his ear. When they entered the main room the slam of the door echoed. Hopefully alerting the owner that he now had guests. A pillar of blue fire erupted from the ground, before a familiar tall man with turquoise eyes and black hair stepped out. She heard wings ruffle behind her.

“Mom?”

“Touya!” She replied before reaching out to hug Touya who looked confused and accepted her hug.

Then he noticed that there was someone else here, Rei pulled away and gently grabbed the blond to pull him closer. Touya scanned the man before him, he was pretty short compared to the two gods. His eyes trail to the blond’s exposed shoulders and collar bones, before graviting to meet the gaze of honey like eyes. Touya would admit he was rather lovely but the real question was who was he and why did his mom bring him here to his temple.

“Touya I know I probably have no right to ask this of you but I do need your help. You see Keigo was going to be sacrificed because of me, and I couldn't just let him die so I stepped in. Now he is one of my own but you know I can’t bring mortals to the Pantheon. So I was wondering if he can stay here year round but I take him for the winter months?”

Touya was going to say no but he knew he couldn’t turn down his mother’s request. He saw how beautiful this winter was and knew Keigo probably had something to do about it. Plus it wouldn’t hurt to have someone around the temple right? Especially someone as pretty as this man. 

“Fine. He can stay here. I assume you already blessed him to be able to handle the heat. Or else he would have burned to a crisp by now.”

Wings fluttered from the imagery, heh, how cute. Rei pressed a cold peck on top of windswept blond locks, tears slightly pricking her eyes. Her heart ached but knew she would be back. 

“I will come back for you, Keigo. You and I will spread the winter when the time comes. Please protect him, Touya. Goodbye my little dove.” She said walking away 

towards the door.

“Guess you have changed mom.”

Rei looked over her shoulder with an amused smile.

“Yes it seems I have.”

After Rei left there was an awkward silence between Keigo and Touya. Touya decided to lead Hawks to a spare room he had. The room itself was far from his own on the other side of the temple. Keigo felt slightly nervous and felt his wings slightly flutter. He knew Touya wouldn’t hurt him, he trusts Rei’s judgment. If she thought this was for the best then he was going to believe her. Touya brought him to a spacious room with a high ceiling and candle chandelier. There was pretty dark furniture and a dimly lit fireplace. The bed was bigger than any Keigo has ever seen, and looked like the sheets were made from a black silk and a sheer light blue canopy. The room looked luxurious and way better than any room the mages have ever given him. He thanked Touya with a gentle smile taking Touya’s breath away. How could one mortal’s beauty rival that of a deity? Touya knew then that he was going to make sure that this mortal would be protected and live comfortably. Later that day he brought the blond a variety of beautiful and high quality robes to replace the one he was wearing.

Touya invites the blond to eat all their meals together in the dining room every day. He tells Keigo that he could go anywhere in the temple, no part is off limits. Keigo rather enjoyed this freedom and wanted to explore as much as he could. Until he stumbled upon a library filled with scrolls and books. So many stories that Keigo has never even heard of. Sometimes Touya would be in the library and the two would talk about anything and everything. There were times they spent almost the entire day talking. Touya learned more about Keigo and how he ended up being saved by his mom. The way Keigo Talked about his mom made his heart clenched and he was glad that she was able to step in and save him. They opened up to each other enough to share past traumas. Keigo eventually wanted to make the temple feel more at home and asked if he could decorate. And Touya lets him do as he wishes, he doesn’t think he could ever deny the blond anything. If Keigo asked him for anything he would bring on a golden platter. The temple wasn’t as big or alone as it used to feel. As the seasons passed their own feelings grew.

With the months passing by, Rei never forgot her promise to Keigo. At the Pantheon, she had stopped letting Enji talk down to her and didn’t let him hurt her. She was more than happy to send cold gusts at him to put out his stupid flame beard or make ice barriers between them. Her children were happy to see this change in her and asked what had happened this winter. She couldn’t tell them just yet. Rei hoped that things were going alright between Touya and Keigo. Before this winter she was always worried about how lonely it must be for Touya to live alone. She just hopes that they were getting along. Maybe something would come out of it, after all the way Touya looked at Keigo did not go unnoticed. 

When it was time she made her way to the Obsidian temple ready to see her son and her dove. She entered the main chamber and saw there was definitely more light pooling in with the curtains pulled back. Oddly enough there were Rindou flowers in vases everywhere. The place looked so much more lively. Touya and Keigo walked down the staircase to meet with her.  Keigo no longer had the white robes, but instead they were a shiny gold with a black sash around his waist. The top still opened, he must just really like wearing them that way. He looked happy and well taken care of. Not that she doubted Touya, he  himself looked content. Before they parted she couldn’t help but notice the pained expression in Touya’s eyes. So there was something going on like she suspected. 

During the winter months, Rei learned of the kindness her son showed Keigo. How he allowed him to decorate the temple and do as he pleased. They ate together peacefully at the dinner table. The two have gotten very close, Keigo confided in her that he indeed had feelings for Touya. He thought she was going to be mad at him but instead she chuckled and stroked his hair. She was truly happy for them. The two travelled the land together again and spread a quiet winter wonderland. The frozen lands looked so serene and magical that it was almost hard to believe that there were ever harsh snow storms. When returning Keigo back to Touya’s care she saw the utter relief and happiness cross Touya’s blue eyes and Keigo’s smile so warm with joy. Rei knew that the two of them would be fine, it wasn’t long before the two entered a relationship in the spring. 

The next year before it was time for Keigo to join Rei for the winter, Touya asked his mother for Keigo’s hand in marriage. As Keigo is a devotee to his mother, he belongs to her. She gives him her blessing to marry him after the winter on the condition that he would continue to come with her for the winter. Touya agreed to terms and when they returned he wasted no time in asking the blond to marry him. Keigo was surprised but accepted as tears welled in his eyes. Touya was incredibly happy and took the bird by the waist and spun him around. 

The two got married in the Spring and invited Touya’s siblings, Rei, and a very small group of gods. That was the day Keigo gained immortality, and his godly glow was a soft gold.  He was wearing a Garland of red flowers upon his head and robes were golden with patterns of red and black birds. His wings shone brightly in his golden glow. While Touya wore a blue robe with the color matching his flames, gold and black thread embroidered a pattern similar to fire along the bottom of his robes and the end of his sleeves. Although Keigo did grow slightly taller both Rei and Touya still had more inches than him. Their marriage marked the day that the two would spend their immortality together. They would never know sadness or loneliness ever again, after all they had each other.

(Honestly I just wanted to write Rei being like a mom to Keigo and then my mind went to a gods au. Then I thought to add a little Dabihawks and accidentally made them have a little bit of Hades and Persephone love story. Hope you enjoyed.)

[yandere-daydreams]

if request slots are open: consider. i know you don’t like shoto but listen listen. royalty!au in which the darling is also a royal, of an opposing kingdom. shoto just thinks they’re so soft and lovely and why won’t they accept his marriage proposal?

This is pure self-indulgence, really. I just want to use fancy language and imagery and say nothing bluntly ever because straight-forwardness was only invented in the 1900s, and this is a reality I accept.

TW: Dehumanization, Abuse of Power, and Metaphors.

~

Your kingdom was known for never refusing a guest.

It was a state more than a nation, really, a wonderful city that relied on trade and unity to sustain itself. As such, you were more of a diplomat than a ruler, a host dressed in jewels and made to entertain true leaders from the allies held in such high-esteem by your advisors. You’d mastered the art of meaningless conversation, your patience taught to you by decades of being talked-over, and although many royals had seen fit to test your policy, there was always a free room ready when they were prepared to humble themselves and accept it. You adored that part of your occupation, how kind you got to be, to your people, traveling peasants, kings and queens and anyone who crossed your path. You liked to be generous.

But, Shoto was not a Prince known for bringing out the best in people. And you were certainly no exception to his contagious aversion.

Usually, you would make an effort to greet your visitors in the courtyard, but his visits were too frequent and too impulsive for you to do so much as stand before his entourage was in your throne room, the young Prince standing before you. He didn’t seem to mind your lack of enthusiasm, the boy smiling so brightly as he stepped in front of the elevated platform. You didn’t doubt he would run to your seat, if given the chance, but your personal guards made their aggression known as soon as his foot touched the first step of the short flight. “My Songbird,” He greeted, instead, not seeming to notice the way you cringed at the nickname. “You haven’t been responding to my letters, but my yearning still persists. Have you grown tired of singing to me so quickly?”

“I do not see why it’s necessary to respond to inquiries I have already answered.” Your voice was cold, at best, frigid at worst. You didn’t have it in your heart to be cruel to anyone, much less a friend you had once held so dear. Even with how appealing he made cruelty seem, these days. “I am not your songbird, but if I was, I think you would dread having to hear the same two notes play on a never-ending loop. God knows my throat has grown sore from delivering them.” You paused, glancing towards the advisor on your left, positioned there on the chance your behavior slipped into something less than agreeable. She waited a moment, pondering, but a nod was all you needed to proceed. “You must be tired, Todoroki, please allow my valet to show you to your chambers. A long journey deserves an even longer rest.”

You saw Shoto falter, a hand unconsciously coming to rest on the sword at his belt. You guards mirrored the gesture, although you didn’t take it as a threat. “I am thankful for any note you grace me with,” He assured, taking another step forward. “But, there are three that would make me euphoric. Isn’t that what you should want? Why would you sing at all, if not to make someone happy?”

Straightening you back, you leaned forward, uncrossing your legs to better fill your throne. “I sing for my own joy, no one else’s. Be glad I am forgiving enough to let you listen from a distance.” He opened his mouth, but you carried on, drawing circles in the velvet under your arms. “My answer is no, and there is nothing you can do to change my mind. When I find a shelter I can roost in, one I choose to roost in, then and only then will make my nest. I have no desire to make my home a cage, regardless of how golden the bars.”

At that, he smiled, and you dug your nails into the soft fabric. “It would be a beautiful cage, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re intolerable,” You mumbled, deflating. It was hard to be angry, now, the disappointment cutting through you more deeply than the knife of loathing ever could. Marriage was not a necessity, to you. Unlike his own clan, your’s had never placed an emphasis on blood. You’d been an orphan most of your life, and you had no issue with continuing the tradition your childless parents had started. Children who’d never known love always seemed more appreciative when receiving it, although you’d admit Shoto’s existence contested that theory. “I cannot–”

“And a beautiful cage deserves a stunning creature to inhabit it,” Shoto continued, speaking over you without hesitation. Another step was taken, then another, leaving Shoto towering before you, too close for comfort. You were tempted to stand, if only to put the two of you at an equal height, but Shoto would’ve simply found another way to place himself above you. He was good at that, especially if it meant making you feel small. “Think of it as an alliance. Your country would have my father’s army behind it, and I would have you. Is that not a worthwhile sacrifice?” You weren’t given time to answer his question, Shoto dropping to one knee unceremoniously, suddenly. It caught you off guard, enough so for you to lean forward, moving to help him up. But, Shoto only took your extended hand, holding your palm to his cheek as he spoke. “Visits aren’t enough, this isn’t enough. I wish to have you as my partner, and if I don’t, I can not guarantee my next action will be one of peace.”

You jerked back, not asking for permission before pushing yourself onto your feet. It took more of your self-control than it should’ve to keep from telling him to leave, to get out of your castle and never come back. Your anger must’ve been visible, because your advisor reached out as soon as your fists had a chance to ball, a steady palm coming to rest on your shoulder. It was a small consolation, but it snapped you out of your rage nonetheless, even if your calmness was still volatile when regained.

“Rest, Little Prince. Exhaustion has clouded your better judgment.” His eyes widened, lips contorting into a frown, but you didn’t give him a chance to refuse. Instead, you made the first move, waving for your guards to follow as you descended the short staircase. “If I hear one more word about marriage, I fear I may be the one to abandon our treaties. This songbird wishes to sing in another court, for now.”

 Shoto was quick to stay on your heels, his excuses following just as closely. “But–”

“One more word,” You warned, his troop of guards and servants parting to let you through. “I don’t wish to make an enemy out of you. Please, enjoy my city and take advantage of my hospitality, but do not approach me with the same attitude. I have made up my mind, and my decision is final.”

And with that, you left. That was the advantage of his petname, you supposed.

Flying away was much easier when you were given wings.

But, Shoto was a beast of the ground, unfortunately.

He stayed as you fled, watching you run from him like prey from a predator. Part of him acknowledged your feelings, or the lack thereof, rather. He knew you didn’t love him, not truly, and he knew you didn’t care for him as he cared for you. He knew you didn’t want to be with him.

And yet, you were kind and welcoming and genuine. You were loving towards him, even if you didn’t love him.

Shoto took a moment to scan over the room. His guards surrounded him, as faithful as ever, each buzzing for an order. His father had never allowed him to travel lightly, even when Shoto was more than capable of protecting himself. Your nation didn’t have the same strength. With no standing army, no way to defend yourself, you relied on neutrality and alliances for protection. It was a symbolic security, but one that would stand unless a very powerful, very feared kingdom attacked.

Unless Shoto’s kingdom attacked.

He decided he would bring the idea to his siblings, as he waited for the room’s doors close behind you. It would be a controversial suggestion, but there was territory to be gained, resources that could help more deserving people. With their forces, it would be over in a matter of days, hours, even. He doubted your ‘allies’ would care, by the end of the week.

Besides, Shoto had a pet who needed to be put back on their leash. 

You seemed to think you’d outgrown your cage.

[talesofafangirlwithadvr]

REVIEW: EMMA (2020)

Anytime a new adaptation comes out I’m always very hesitate to watch it. Will it live up to its previous incarnation? Why are they making another when there’s already so many? And if it’s based on a book+has had many films already=I can be a very harsh critic. However, with the more reviews I read about Autumn de Wilde’s new take on Jane Austen’s novel, the more pumped I got. (I was upset I had to wait till March as it was in select theaters this February.) I am very happy I got to see it because I enjoyed it a lot. So whether you are a Jane Austen/Emma fan, have seen Clueless once or twice and are curious about the source material or want to escape from all the Corona virus news for a bit, I would highly suggest venturing to your local movie theater to see it. More than likely you will have the theater basically to yourself, like I did. 

Spoilers for the source material are bound to come, so if you are still reading the novel or want to be a bit surprised I would suggest skimming this section. 

Bill Nighy portrayed a fantastic Mr. Woodhouse.

The way this film was marketed it continually brought up how Emma is Jane Austen’s comedy. Now, all of Austen’s work is comedic, but Emma could have some things we will find especially funny as it could be the farthest from our lives (just like it was back then for Austen’s readers). In this adaptation I really could feel the humor attribute making this a true comedy in my eyes. Most of that is thanks to Bill Nighy’s performance. 

Mr. Woodhouse’s hypochondria is his biggest character trait and is always a laugh as he is often given some of the most ridiculous statements. (ie: Cake not being good for children.) Nighy strongly delivered on this and also brought a new characteristic to him (and I’m not just talking about the amazing patterns he wore). He did a great job with physical humor. I loved his interactions with the servants. Which, speaking of...I really liked how much involvement the servants had. This version, specifically, had the most servants shown (compared to previous Emmas) and while they never spoke (as would be expected during this time period) there was SO much humor present. From finding the draft for Mr. Woodhouse out the window (”Miss Taylor would have felt it”), moving all the screens (still a great way for Mr. Woodhouse to show he knew something was going on between Emma and Mr. Knightley) or quickly turning their backs. They also helped to show how rich these characters really are. As social class is a huge part of this story. 

Anya Taylor Joy is poised and highlights Emma’s social class.

With Joy’s portrayal of our lead heroine, I felt like we got an Emma that was very accurate to the novel, but one we do not often see. Here, you got a true sense of Emma’s wealth (as her maids are seen dressing her or fitting her for a new outfit, as well as the ornaments in her hair) as well as her selfishness. By this I mean we got a look into Emma’s world and how she wants to see what she desires. This was seen very early with Emma’s reaction to Miss. Bates in church and then also when they meet Miss. Bates in the shop and hear of Jane’s letter. Other adaptations seem to give her the air of compassion (even if it is just in her face and then she talks badly later). As a very big fan of BBC’s 2009 Emma and of Romola Garai’s Emma it was hard for me to not compare the two versions. Of course, starting with Emma in this role allows for a larger character development, but I still would have liked to see a little more interest in others. 

I loved how many lines were super accurate to the novel. I could often recite what was coming up next. (Yes, I know I’m a big nerd.) 

Johnny Flynn quickly becomes one of my favorite Knightleys.

Again, another hard thing about so many adaptations, seeing so many versions of these literary characters. As I mentioned with the section on Emma’s character specifically, I am a big fan of the BBC’s 2009 mini-series, so whenever I think of Mr. Knightley my mind goes to Jonny Lee Miller (or Brent Bailey from Emma Approved). 

*swooning*

But where was I... oh yes! After watching the trailer I wasn’t sure about this Mr. Knightley (I wasn’t super familiar with Flynn), but he quickly grew on me early on in the film. I really like the early allusions of him and Emma liking one another. His “rivalry” with Frank Churchill made me chuckle every time. I thought it was strange they never brought up how he knows Emma or why he’s over all of the time. Especially when her sister came with all of her kids. Her husband is Knightley’s younger brother, but it’s never mentioned. That could help with not focusing on Emma and Knightley’s large age difference. I like how here we didn’t hear any of those creepy statements like how he remembers holding her when she was a baby. I LOVED their dance (as I expected I would. It’s a HUGE moment) and their reaction afterward was precious: watching them both come to terms with what just happened and how they were feeling. I honestly thought they would admit their feelings right then. It was a PERFECT addition. When Emma asks Frank to stay, and Knightley is obviously upset, but she’s clearly asking for Harriet. Oh the drama! It was great. I was worried the strawberry picking at Donwell wouldn’t have happened, but it followed this scene, which was great because now Emma was aware of her growing feelings and then Harriet is swooning over Knightley who is ignoring Emma. It feels like something straight out of high school (no wonder why Clueless works so well).  

While I loved the addition of this scene, I did feel like the end was a bit rushed, especially once we get to Box Hill. For me Frank and Jane’s reveal always feels weird, but that felt even more forced (although you do get more glances from them in the film) and I understand we don’t have a full 4 hours to show everything, but it just felt like a lot all at once. Despite all of this the proposal was still great and very accurate to the novel. I just don’t understand the nose bleed.

Justice for Harriet with Mia Goth

Emma and Harriet Smith’s relationship is one that I always find problematic. If Emma didn’t feel lonely after losing Miss Taylor/Mrs. Weston she more than likely would not have met Harriet Smith and taken her “under her wing.” Harriet’s life gets turned upside down. She goes from getting proposed to by the farmer, Robert Martin, to turning him down, thinking she’s in love with Mr. Elton, getting her heart broken, falling in love again, but then being wrong about that one too. Then in the end she winds up with Robert Martin, who she would have been happy with in the first place. Mr. Knightley says it well, when he mentions how the more time Emma spends with her, the more she will be out of her world and not apart of Emma’s. Often, I don’t feel justice for Harriet at the end of the film because of the way they treat her character. She is a main focal point at the start of the novel, but then other matters seem to become more serious. In this film, I think I have finally seen one of the best ways her character is handled, specifically at the end of the story. When Emma abruptly stops Knightley during his proposal, it is because (at first) she thinks he will tell her that he loves Harriet (as she just professed to Emma), but in this film we see Emma have this realization as she is about to say her true feelings to Knightley in response to his proposal. Something clicks in her that it is not right. Now my first thought was because of her father. Mainly because of how against change he is. But it is actually for Harriet, which I thought was really refreshing. And then the next scene is us seeing Emma telling Harriet what happened. But it doesn’t stop there. We get to see Harriet finish her story and even share a loving moment with Robert Martin before Emma and Knightley truly unite. It was a very nice touch to this film. 

Go see Emma. You’ll love it as much as I did and then want to watch a bunch of different adaptations afterwards because you can never get enough! 

[letswritebangtan]

Brave Tender Heart 01 | Beware of the Past

pairing: princess!reader x knight!jungkook

Chapter 01

The garden was priceless, and so whoever entered it was taking a risk of their lifetime. One wrong move against the ample nature that lay there and they would lose whatever they had left. A blossoming tree stood on an elevated patch of wet grass. It’s branches extended towards different directions as if each one of them wanted a different route in life. The crystal pond that sat still that afternoon although the movement underneath went unnoticed. The grass was all at an equal length giving them no sense of individualism, unlike the branches. The castle’s gardeners moved with a purpose, took a step where a step needed to be taken and touched only what needed to be touched. The white bird soared high and landed on the blossoming tree. He watched over the creatures who filled the garden and took the opportunity to gaze at this rare sight. Humans were never allowed in the garden, seeing this, the white bird was unhappy. 

As a man reached to snip the grass, the white bird flapped its wings ferociously and took a dive aiming for the most vulnerable part of the body. The face. 

“And which one of you allowed this peasant in?” the prince roared. 

The garden was hurt, the gardener’s scissors had left a painful scar in its soil and he was about to pay the price. 

“It was I, your majesty. Kang is one of our best and I swear upon you, my dear prince, he has had no ill intention-”

“Who do you think you are defending, Sir Kim?” said the prince angered. 

“It is in my best policy, never to offend you, dear prince. I am unbelievably sorry for the trouble in the garden, rest assured, I will see to it that Kang will not be allowed in ever again.” said Sir Kim. 

“And you make sure that he pays the price. Send two of your best to fix the offences you have done to our garden at once and do not spare a moment. Off!” the prince bellowed. 

“Brother.” a voice snapped.

The prince did not think to spare a glance at his sister. “I am in a terrible mood, sister. Leave me be.” he muttered lowly. 

“But brother, I must inform you. The gardener is not at fault, I watched them in the garden from my dressing room and it seems that Kang had been a victim against a lovely white bird. Nature was defending its place and mistook Kang as an intruder.” the princess spoke kindly.

“Well do you want me to punish the bird instead?”

“Well, of course not, I was hoping-”

“Get out of my chamber, y/n.”

“Taehyung, will you not listen?” y/n snapped. 

“No I shall not, and I shall never. Bring your case up to the gods if you want but that fiend is deserving of his punishment and the case rests there.” Taehyung spoke, finally looking at his sister. 

He finally saw her appearance for the first time that week. She was slowly turning into a woman, a beautiful woman. Her hair was a slightly different shade and her eyes were tired. The same way Taehyung watched her, she looked at him. Her brother was young, fit to take a place on the throne. But his eyes screamed for sleep or some form of rest. She could see the pain and restlessness in him for having many stressful and long nights all in a row. She pitied him. 

“Will you at least join me for the breakfast?” y/n pleaded.

He sent her a reluctant stare. “Inform Sir Park that the prince will be expecting breakfast in his study. I do not expect him to be a minute late.”

y/n watched her brother’s long, slim back covered in thick, rich clothes as he dragged them on his back and walked off. 

Breakfast was quick, y/n did not have much of an appetite after her conversation with her brother. She planned the activities for this day in her head while blankly staring at the vase in front of her. The thought of her brother being as lonely as she was pricked at her heart. The last they properly spoke was the night she had promised to protect him. Now so much time has passed that she did not know the kind of person her brother has grown to become. 

He was incredibly young, yet he held the entire kingdom in the palms of his hands. She knew the kind of worry, stress and frustration that comes with taking responsibility of the lives of many. It was with no hesitation, that she could proudly state that her brother is a great King. He showed compassion for those in need, children were so dear to his heart even if they weren’t his own. He had a temper so large, it was impossible to see him in such a way. Then y/n remembered that he was just a boy, and maybe he just wanted to live like one. Then she had remembered that he had wanted breakfast. 

“Will you fetch Sir Park for me please?” y/n asked a nearby maid. 

A few moments after he was bowing in front of her and listening attentively. She hated such power, maybe because she had too much of it. 

“My stubborn brother refuses to share a meal with me and he would like his breakfast sent to his study. He asked for you specifically, Sir Park.”

“Of course, princess. The prince shall receive a good meal right away.” he replied smiling slightly. 

“Feed him well, yeah Park? I worry too much of him.” y/n sighed. 

“Always, princess. And you are not to worry, this facade of his will fade soon enough.” Sir Park replied. 

“Will it?” y/n said sadly. “It has been eight years.” she sighed. 

“I have no ill intention in saying this princess, however, when one believes that their sibling is responsible for the death of the family, it is painful and difficult to forgive.” 

y/n did not know what to say then. She has spent years grieving, years trying to tell herself she meant well, years trying to make it up to her brother, and years hating herself for it. Unconsciously, she shed a tear. 

“My biggest apologies, princess. I did not mean to upset you-” 

“All is good, Sir Park.” she said quickly. “All is good.” she repeated with a small, reassuring smile. 

Sir Park Jimin was the knight that y/n was closest with. He was older and had been in training at the palace even before she was born. He had been there through her happiest and darkest times. When y/n fought to save her family, it was him that provided all of the support. He was loyal and trustworthy as a knight should be and never judged her for her choices. But Sir Park was special because both he and y/n knew that his loyalty was not forced, but it was earned by y/n. They were friends, companions, Sir Park had even taught y/n how to ride her first horse. It was these memorable moments that bonded them even more. 

Sir Park left to tend to the prince and y/n was alone again. She thought she would enter the garden, but it would irk her brother. The horses were resting and it was too hot out to go for a ride. The art room was empty and she thought it was a good place to hide out for this blazing afternoon. 

“Sir Kim?” y/n called as she peeked into his office. 

“Princess! Oh, you should have called and I would have come to you, even though you don’t particularly like it.” Sir Kim added humorously at the end. 

y/n smiled and laughed softly. “If you are aware of the reasons of my actions then you should not say otherwise. The matter is unimportant, I was wondering if the paint has been restocked.”

“Yes, fully, princess. I had the rose hue you requested delivered as well.” he said. 

“You have been helpful, Sir Kim. I will let your return to your activities.”

“My pleasure, dear princess. I hope all goes well with your artworks today.”

y/n smiled and thanked him before heading to the art room. Sir Kim Namjoon was another one of her friends. Not as close as Sir Park since he was much older and she had always thought of him as family. He was appointed as the king’s most trusted servant since he was incredibly intelligent and he dealt with the king so well. He had played a part in y/n’s education, lending her his collection of historical and geographical books as well as his collection of literature. He had always hoped that y/n would turn out to be smarter than he was, and as for Taehyung, he was not much of a bookworm. 

The art room smelled clean, fresh and it had a calming nature to it. As y/n closed the door, she heard a small gasp and someone shifting behind her. She turned around fiercely ready to defend herself when she came face to face with Sir Jeon. 

She let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “Foolish of me to think there would be danger in the art room. It is deemed the most peaceful place on castle grounds.” 

Sir Jeon cracked a smile, and chuckled heartily. “My apologies, princess. I was admiring the artwork. I shall take my leave-”

“Oh, please, do stay. It is comforting to know that someone sees the beauty in my works.” y/n said, longing for company. 

Sir Jeon was tall, handsome, amazingly built. As one of the most well-known knights in the kingdom he was not around an awful lot. He had business to deal with elsewhere. 

“Do you really mean that, princess?” he asked unsure. 

“Of course, you are not around so often, am I correct?”

“Yes, princess, however it feels as though I am intruding-”

“I demand you to stay, Sir Jeon.” y/n said firmly, yet with a lighthearted tone in her voice. 

He smiled rather attractively and nodded. “Your wish is my command, princess.”

y/n giggled and walked over to her box of paints while Sir Jeon stood in front of one of the paintings on the wall. 

“Princess, I have many queries about these paintings.” he said.

y/n looked surprised, “Queries? How long have you looked at them to have many queries?”

“You may not know this, princess, but I visit the art room on each and every one of my returns to the palace. It is my happy place.”

Hearing that, y/n’s heart swelled in her chest. 

“A room full of my artwork is your happy place?”

“You truly are talented, princess. And I have seen it for myself.”

y/n felt entirely grateful to him. The art room was not forbidden, yet she was the only one who entered it. Now, to know that Sir Jeon takes pride and sees beauty in her efforts, she felt a certain liking towards him. 

“And what are your queries, Sir Jeon?” she asked curiously. 

“Firstly, this piece seems to show all the colours of the rainbow-”

“And so you’ve noticed,” y/n said surprised. “You have a keen eye.”

“My query is why you added this streak of black. It occurs four times across the canvas.”

y/n’s feelings of amusement and gratitude slowly faded as she remembered the story of that art piece. 

“The rainbow represents myself, how I have different sides to me and each colour represents them. They are what makes me complete. The black streaks remind me of those I lack under my false belief that I am complete. Each streak represents those I have lost. Father, mother, and my younger sisters. You have a keen eye, Sir Jeon, but you failed to notice the grey.” 

Sir Jeon’s expression was filled with regret and pity. “The grey is the prince.” he mumbled. 

“Precisely.” y/n smiled sadly. 

“Art really allows us to showcase our emotions in the most beautiful way, princess. It also tells us that we are allowed to feel pain, allowed to make mistakes, and that we are allowed to move on.” Sir Jeon said as he took a step towards her. 

y/n nodded at him, “Very true indeed. Art is my escape.”

“So is mine.” Sir Jeon replied, smiling softly. 

They stood in a comfortable silence for a while, eyes gazing upon that painting. 

“A knight’s duty calls, princess.” he said as he turned to face her. 

y/n nodded, “I must have kept you long. I apologise.”

“Not at all, princess. I am happy to be here, I really am.” he said genuinely. 

Sir Jeon lifted y/n’s hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. y/n paid attention to the shape of his lips, how it sofltly pressed against her skin. It was like she was in a trance. 

“I hope to have my many other queries answered tomorrow, princess?” he said. 

y/n was slightly taken back, usually a knight would never demand something from her like that, not anyone. But she liked it, because it made her feel equal. 

“And I shall be happy to, Sir Jeon.” she said staring into his eyes. 

When he left, y/n knew just what she was going to paint today. 

[irondadfics]

Have any AUs that you recommend?

There’s so many different types of AUs that it would be impossible to compile them into a single list. Perhaps one day we will make a part 2, but for now here are just a few we enjoy.

Platonic Soulmate AU

Born To Cherish by ironfamjam @ironfamjam

Everyone has two soul-mates whose thoughts are written on your hands. Your platonic soul mate on your right. Your romantic soul mate on your left. But Tony’s always known he’s impossible to love. He only gets one. Until Peter.

Everything, All At Once by ironfamjam @ironfamjam

Everyone has a soul-mate and when you fall asleep, you get to meet in your dreams. But there’s a catch. When you wake up, you can’t remember a single thing. Tony and Peter find each other again and again in a world made of dreams and memories and it doesn’t matter that Tony loves him more than he’s ever loved anything at all. No matter how hard he tries, when it truly matters, he doesn’t know Peter exists at all.

Chapter 5 of I wanna find a home (and I wanna share it with you) by madasthesea @madasthesea

Ok, this soulmate AU might be a bit confusing. Quick run down: you get your soulmark the first time you touch your soulmate. The mark is your soulmate’s name written in their handwriting in a color that reflects them. If they die, it goes white. If your soulmate touches your soulmark, you get a little happy feeling or something like that.

Historical AU

A Little Monument of Stones by YellowDistress @yellowdistress

Russia’s royal family has been executed. The little prince is presumed dead.That is until a boy is brought to Stark Manor, alive, thousands of miles away in rural England.

What Occurred In Raychester Castle by fictionart @fictionart24

Lord Anthony Stark is the Earl of Raychester castle. He inherited it from his father when he died, and soon he’ll be married to the lovely Lady Virginia Potts. His life the perfect example of Victorian values, everything was going the way it should have.Until one day, one of his lower servants worms his way into Tony’s heart, and introduces him to a world Tony knew was there, but had never seen, and challenges the very way he viewed the world.Yet, it doesn’t feel like such a mistake.— Or a historical AU of Tony Stark and Peter Parker set in 1890s fictional Britain, where Tony is an Earl and Peter is a lowly servant.Only a tiny bit inspired by Downton Abbey.

Only for a Little While by eccentric_artist_221b @eccentric-artist-221b

Exploring the relationship between Tony Stark and Peter Parker if they had been passengers aboard the Titanic over 106 years ago…. an Irondad AU

Fairytale AU

A Tale As Old As Time by Buckets_Of_Stars, Femalemarvelfanatic @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars

A selfish man gets cursed into a metal suit, and only a little boy with a dark past and a heart of gold can break the curse. It’s a tale as old as time.

Have Patience, A Quick Wit, And A Gentle Heart by ironfamjam @ironfamjam

“I’m your fairy-” he scowled, looking pained, “you know what, no. I’m not going to say that. It’s ridiculous and not even accurate. I don’t know who invented those fairy tales you humans love so much, but they’re beyond terrible.“"Wait…” Peter tried to hide his grin, “Are you my fairy godmother?” he laughed, unable to stop no matter how hard he tried. The man glowered. “Watch it kid. I could turn you into a frog instead.” Or The Irondad Cinderella AU one person asked for

Mermaid AU

Sea Spider by Bean_reads_fanfic @the-reverse-mermaid

“Tell me I’m not the only one seeing this,” Tony prompts, gesturing to their catch.It’s a kid. A teenager, by the looks of him, no more than 15 or 16, with curling brown hair plastered over his forehead and eyes. He lays there prone on his side, covered in cuts- some shallow, some deep, all of them most likely caused by the barbs on the fishnet. Tony can just make out blood matted on the back of his head- he probably hit it on the side of the boat and got himself knocked out. Clinging to his torso is a soaked, faded t-shirt and below that… …below that, his lower body is a tail. A full-on fish tail.

Chapter 6 of an empire is nothing without its heir by Daydreamer5187 @day-dreamer176

The boy let out a terrified scream as he was yanked back, desperately trying to move a tail that wouldn’t move anymore. He’d never had his tail restrained before, it was terrible and it only added to the boy’s panic. “Mr.Stark!” Peter was being pulled away from his guardian too quickly, Mr.Stark wasn’t going to be able to catch him, but still he screamed for him. “Mr.Stark, please!” Tony was not going to lose his family all over again.

Under the Hudson by NanixErka

Tony Stark is a billionaire Superhero Peter is a scrappy little mer-kid And this story is how they became a family.

Movie/Book Inspired AU

I’ll Take You Under My Wing by agib, ShoyzzArt @agib-2002 @shoyzz-art

Obadiah and Howard let HYDRA test on Tony Stark as a child. Now he has wings.Many years later, HYDRA contacts them out of the blue, wanting Tony back.Being the good friend Rhodey is, he warns Tony and supports his choice to go off the grid.Tony’s not upset about going on the run, although nothing can prepare him for what HYDRA has created and experimented on for fourteen years…Or - The Maximum Ride AU that (I hope) people wanted…

ever in your favor by iron_spider @iron–spider

Peter startles awake when someone shakes him. “Sorry, honey,” May says. Peter blinks a couple times and she comes into focus, her hair pulled back from her face. She’s trying not to look a certain way, but he can see it in her eyes anyway. She clears her throat, keeps talking. “But it’s…” She glances away, wets her lips. “You gotta get ready.”He remembers what day it is, and his heart beats like a drum at someone’s execution. But he tries to put on a mask, make it all seem normal. It’s everything but, despite the fact that he’s been dealing with reaping day since he was born, between himself, Ben and May. That fear that one of them could be taken away. Sent to surefire slaughter. But now Ben is gone, taken despite never having his name drawn from a bowl, and May’s finally safe. Now Peter’s name is in there alone. The last Parker sitting on the chopping block. He doesn’t know how to be. He doesn’t know what normal is, when the Hunger Games are looming on the horizon.

The Will of the Force by madasthesea @madasthesea

Tony and Peter end up as mentor and mentee in a different universe. Or, should we say, Master and Padawan.

[drfate]

Dr. Fate: In the Dungeon of the Damned

An old school Dr Fate novel by Rex F Dorgan

Epilogue – The Flame-Flower

The old woman moved slowly through the small cemetery adjacent to the ruins of a long-abandoned chapel in western Massachusetts. Thirteen headstones occupied the grounds – ancient, worn, broken, moss-eaten, some sunken into the ground, but on all of them the names were still legible: Cornelia Rainsford, Emeline Malady, Georgine Pendergast, Rebekah Crue, Aphra Okes, Aurinda Okes, Silence Meagher, Verity Gorge, Jane Ingold, Zipporah Bastwick, Hecuba Hodge, Lydia Calthrop, Keziah Judge.

The dates of their births varied greatly, and the years of their births ran from 1608 to 1632, but the year, month, and even day of their deaths was the same: November 1, 1666.

The old woman cackled malevolently as she walked among the headstones. Once the ground beneath her feet would have scorched her soles like hot coals, but that was a time long past. These grounds, this chapel, had long ago been – what was the word? desecrated? literally correct, but not as the word was used by common folk – she supposed the term would be something like “anti-sanctified.” What word would you use to mean a fortress taken over by the enemy, and now a stronghold of that enemy? She thought of those large lethal hawk-wasps that killed tarantulas and made nests of their carcasses. Like that.

She carried in her hand a strange silver pot holding an even stranger flower: its stem was gnarled and thorny, but its petals, exactly thirteen in number, were pointed, like those of a sunflower. And yet, on closer inspection, they writhed and throbbed in a way no flower petals should. On closer inspection, those petals were revealed as tongues of flame.

One by one, the woman daintily gripped each petal between thumb and forefinger and, holding it over a grave, dropped it to the ground, where the flame flowed outward in the shape of the skeleton buried below. One by one, the graves shook and shuddered and the ground in front of each tombstone convulsed and churned until finally a hand or head broke free from the earth. One by one, the animated corpses of long-dead women climbed from their graves and stood by their headstones as the flesh regrew itself over their bones, until thirteen women stood in the deserted churchyard, in varying states of tattered dress, their flesh covered with dirt and mould and the occasional worm, but complete again.

Aphra Okes was the first to speak. “Hail, sisters. We are made whole again. We are ONE again!”

The women responded, “Hail, Sister Aphra.”

Then Aphra Okes turned to the old woman carrying the remains of the flame-flower, stripped of its petals, but with ovary, receptacle, and stigma intact. “Hail, Lamashtu, mistress of us all!”

The old woman curtsied and said, “I am your servant, not your mistress.”

“Servant and mistress, and soul of us all. We are one in you, Lamashtu.”

Again the old woman curtsied.

Jane Ingold spoke. “We thought we would never return, but you have found a way, mistress.”

“Our time came at last,” the old woman said. She paused and looked over each of the women approvingly, and then met each one’s rapt gaze, eye to eye. There was a satisfied silence and then, after a while, she continued. “I ventured into Faerie as often as I could, but after my first attempt to steal the flower, I was immediately recognized on every return visit. Sometimes, they would take me captive and torment me. As great as my power is in this sphere, that realm is altogether different, strange even to me, and I was each time barely able to escape, although I often left behind my human host to whatever doom those fierce denizens had planned for me. But always there was a price. One time I returned to find that all my remaining acolytes had vanished without a trace. One time I returned, and a century had passed.”

“Praise her, sisters,” said Lydia Calthrop, “For her conviction never flagged.”

“Praise her,” the assembled women shouted.

“But finally the wheel turned, as it always does; even Anu’s wheel is turned on its head,” the old woman said. “For Nergal returned. Oh, my Church, his power was unrivalled. No demon, no god, has ever wielded such power. If not for the wit of Doctor Fate, he would even now be ruler of this world, and many other worlds besides. ‘Tis lucky for us that Nabu’s servant conquered him, oddly enough, for Nergal would not abide us. You would be too great a threat to him. For the Coven of Ashland was ever the greatest circle of witches. When you thirteen are gathered, even Nergal has reason to fear you. Had reason to fear you.”

“Had? Then he is removed as a threat forever?” asked Emeline Malady.

“Yes, my dear one,” the old woman responded. “The Good Doctor destroyed him utterly. Even his soul has been cast down. But not before he ventured into Faerie and retrieved the flower! He used it to call forth former allies from the Pit, and with it populated again his necropolis of Kur.”

“But the flower regrew its flames again, even after Nergal made use of it? You used it to restore us?” asked Aphra’s sister, Aurinda.

“Yes, dear,” replied the old woman. “Nergal has finally answered that question for us, and quelled our greatest fear. The flame-flower regenerates, one petal per moon. I watched and waited seven months for the flower to regrow all its petals but finally I was able to restore you. For when Nergal died, I retrieved the flower from where it lay hidden – deep in the heart of the Tower of Fate itself. Stolen from right under the nose of Doctor Fate!”

The dark congregation seemed to gasp in unison. “Tell us all, mistress!” Aphra exclaimed.

“It has taken me eighty years, but I finally found my opportunity to occupy this body. Lady Grey is a formidable witch herself, but the charm of protection Doctor Fate placed on her was the strongest such spell I have ever encountered. No amount of cunning or force allowed me to pierce it. But I was vigilant, and persistent. And finally, one day, for exactly one minute, the shield dropped. For Doctor Fate had died.”

“Doctor Fate – dead? But then…” Verity Gorge’s question was halted in mid-sentence.

“Died, but he is not yet dead. Sadly. But if he were, Nergal would be alive. So pick your poison, I reckon. Fate sacrificed himself to prevent Nergal from stealing the Amulet of Anutu, but Nergal was sickened by Fate’s vital-force when he tried to imbibe it. I have no idea how that happened, but I intend for us to delve deep into the matter. Fate’s life-force returned to the Doctor and he defeated the poisoned Nergal. Later, when he realized the means by which Nergal had retrieved damned souls from the Pit, Fate made the journey back to Kur and relieved Neti, who is now Lord there – yes, Neti, ha – of the flame-flower. He hid it in his Tower, which would have been as inaccessible to me as Kur, or Faerie – but for my possession of the body of his friend.”

“And the perfect friend for me to have possessed! For not only was Lady Grey trusted above all others and invited to dine with Doctor Fate and his delicious wife “ – this was met with a few murmurs of lecherous assent – “but she is one of the greatest practitioners of plant-magic I have ever encountered. And flowers are her specialty. All her wisdom was mine to access, and I used it to cause the flower to regenerate. Blood,” she added as an aside, “the more innocent, the better.” And the demon-inhabited crone smiled wickedly and licked her lips until they shone in the moonlight.

“Finding the flower in Fate’s maze of a warren was simplicity itself with Lady Grey’s heightened sensitivity to flora, and concealing it was, too, for Fate had foolishly given Inza a bracelet made of beads from Ishtar’s necklace, and Lady Grey – well, I, inhabiting her – simply pilfered the bracelet on my way back from ‘the loo.’”

Lamashtu looked at the frail, withered arms of the body she had stolen. “These flesh sacks are so weak! Even in a magic fortress, there is need of a toilet! But these flesh sacks are also strong, for they will enable us to do what your insubstantial ghosts could not – seize dominion over life in all its forms! What say you, my Church, my Congregation, my Coven?”

Thirteen voices shouted in unison. “Hail, Lamashtu. Dominion is ours!”

The old woman turned to leave the churchyard. Behind her, in the silver-blue moonlight, the shadows of the thirteen witches slithered along the ground back to the feet of their owners, climbed up their bodies, and then completely drowned the figures in darkness. The shadow-women then slowly shrank and reformed into sleek black winged shapes, and thirteen crows alighted from the churchyard, bound for the lights of the great city by the sea.

[pumahat]

The End of Eternity.

The first chapter to a story I am writing. Please Enjoy.

I hate executions. Simple as that.

              Walking down The Grand Basilica’s Western Hallway, Doffer Mao pondered, By the all the gods out there, why does this hallway have to be so long? Maybe there was a point in it, the agonizingly long walk did seem to give prisoners enough time to reflect on their ‘sins’ as they were led past dozens of paintings and statues depicting the ‘glory’ of the Mages. It very well could be the case, but as the Grand Mage of fifteen years, it’s unlikely Mao would ever know what went through the minds of those soon to be purified. Then again, Mao realized, this was a hallway exclusive to master mages.

                After some time admiring the ancient masterpieces of the western hallway, Mao finally approached the large ebony doors at the end of the road. He smirked. And I shall look upon them and dub ‘The Black Gates of Death’. Knocking four times, Mao patiently waited for the doormen to let him into the chamber. Four minutes of dull silence was broken by the soft groaning of the ancient doors. The doors; ancient and still strong, fifteen feet tall, each five feet in width, and five inches of solid ebony wood; masterpieces in their own respect. Although not ornately designed like the rest of the Basilica, the doors held an ominous, almost demonic aura to them. Pitch black doors leading to hell.

Mao remembering his history lessons from decades ago, knew that the wood for the doors were taken from the oldest and largest of the ebony trees of Gods Grave to the east. The cutting of these trees was blasphemy at the highest level to the ‘pagans’ who worshipped the old gods of nature, but a fitting symbol of domination from the heavily Heratik[1] Mages Guild. Even after witnessing these doors open more times than he can count, it was always astonishing to watch the three men it took to open each door, and even then, the process was slow.

                “My dearest apologies for the wait, Grand Mage.” huffed the shortest of the young apprentices in charge of manning the doors. From the nervousness of the apprentices’ face, Mao assumed that he was new, not used to approaching the grand mage.

                “Nonsense child. You’ve done your job as was instructed,” He paused before adding: “Next time you’ll be a bit faster, yes?” as he passed the apprentice, Mao placed a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder and strutted past, glancing at the expectedly stunned face nodding back at him. In the thirty years as a member of the Mages Guild, Mao has never met another ranked Mage who really respected the apprentices. Most mages who get ranked past adept more often than not acquire a distasteful superiority complex, a curse that makes many see themselves as ‘above’ simply because they held the title “Mage,” they let power get to their head. He knew that this pride is what prevented many from rising higher in the Guild, pride is the pillar and the ceiling. Laughing to himself at the thought of the apprentice that manned the door taking Mao as a role model, he entered the waiting chamber.

                Striding through the great ebony doors into the waiting room, towering over everyone else with long graceful strides and gaunt stature, the Grand Mag Doffer Mao stood out like a redwood in a forest of beech, a giant amongst men as the saying goes. Without stopping, Mao promptly approached the small dull door at the end of the waiting room. Placing his hands on the magical seals locking the door, he focused energy from deep within his core out towards his fingertips. Pouring raw power into the ethereal manometer[2], Mao spun and twisted the magic circles of the manometer into varying positions and altering their sizes to create an intricate design, the deep scent of lilies filled the immediate vicinity as the room hummed with gentle green light. After several minutes, he stopped pouring magic into the manometer and pushed gently on the symbol of a gyrfalcon engraved in the center of the door. The symbol twisted and melted into the door, granting him access as the magic circles dissipated into the void. The magic seals were designed to give access only to those who could accurately release the proper amount of magical pressure while completing a complex series of magical puzzles, a feat only those with skills above that of a Grand Master could accomplish.

Once unlocked, the dull doors shimmered and melted away revealing themselves to be made of pure white mithril. The doors glowed like the full moon in the dark waiting room, with the floating everspark sconces as dim stars in the night sky. The radiant doors stood just as beautiful as the day Mao first set his eyes on them. These doors depicted various Guild stories; from men discovering the arcane arts, to the conquering of the Corellan continent, to the building and completion of the Grand Basilica as it is today some five hundred years ago. Yet for all their beauty, they could not hide was ugliness beyond.

Entering his private viewing area, situated several feet over the rest of the arena, Mao scanned the chamber with his mismatched eyes; one a pale sapphire, another a brown so dark it was almost black. Although called the Chamber of Purity, there is nothing pure about it. The entire arena was suffocated by the stench of charred flesh and dried blood that seeped out of every crack.

Sitting down on a monstrosity of a red velvet Mao couldn’t help but hold back his urge to vomit. The rotten stench of death. According to the Mages Manifesto, the Chamber of Purity can only be cleaned during the equinoxes and solstices, when (according to scripture) ‘the One True Goddess was close enough to see the blood of her enemies washed away along with their sins.’ An old barbaric concept that Mao has petitioned to remove from legislation time and time again but has always faced resistance from the Grand Jury; the Judicial and Legislative body of the Guild. At the very least, the logic behind this is more colloquially known that the cleaning calendar is based around natural energy levels and the aligning of celestial bodies, like how legally the world is flat, but every educated human knows it is a sphere.

Taking up the entirety of the Grand Basilica’s Western Wing, the chamber itself could easily fit close to a hundred comfortably throughout its colosseum-like seating arena. The large domed ceiling was roughly a hundred feet high. Ancient spells etched into the stonework caused the ceiling to seemingly to vanish, summoning various types of clouds and weather phenomena that could be altered through spells and magical auras. The only thing that broke this illusion of a roofless chamber was the ‘Eye of Judgment’, a wretched mechanical monstrosity of magnifying glasses and rune-etched metal, a reversed telescope of sorts, that was situated slightly off of the center of the dome. As Mao looked up at the Eye, he felt as if it was the eye of the heavens, with whatever gods up there looking down upon the world heavy with divine judgement.

Normally only the Jury, Mao, and twenty or so Master candidates were granted access to the chamber, except, this time, in addition to the usual suspects, some nearly fifty expert and adept level mages as well as a handful of the absurdly ornate True Goddess Clergymen occupyed the rest of the normally sparse seating arena. Someone wants to make a show of this, He thought, analyzing the situation. Based off of the current political climate, it was most likely a statement against the Cast Movement. Mao resisted the urge to bite his fingernails. I can think of no one else who would waste this much time and resources for such a trivial thing other than our Supreme Judge. Ah! And there he is, waltzing in.

Slamming through the air like thunder breaking the silence, Supreme Judge Clivus Corduroy roared in his deep booming voice calling the attention of all in attendance.

“Today! My fellow mages, we once again are blessed to witness the purification of another disgusting Eternal. Today on the seventh day of First Harvest, in the year twenty-nine eighty-seven after the Last Storm, we are joined by not just our brothers, but by several esteemed members of the True Clergy. With their presence let it be known that our journey to cleanse the world is truly just and filled with divine purpose. Now as the sun approaches her peak, let us bring forth the wretched Creature.”

‘Wretched’ doesn’t even start to describe what was once a man, Mao said to himself.

Dragged out by chained limbs, stripped of the decency of both hair and clothing, the prisoner was less of a man and more of a pile of bones held together in a thin bag of worn, lifeless skin. Mao couldn’t see much of the prisoner from this distance and requested a zoom scope from a nearby servant. When it arrived, he found the Creature to be more disturbing than he had thought.

The Creature hunched over, stood no taller than the two guards dragging him in, each of which were of average height and build. Although if he had been standing straight, Mao guessed that he would’ve easily towered over everyone in the room by a full head, most likely the same height as himself.

Gaunt, atrophied limbs hung down from his empty torso like ropes, no strength left in his body to even move them. Mao shuddered to himself at the level of abuse the Creature was clearly subjected to. His fingers and toenails ripped off; bulbous and red lash marks throbbed with little time to. Tattooed across his body were ornate pagan symbols of fire, one side of his body representing life, the other representing death, elegantly faded from age and damaged with torture scars of blades and lashes. It was castrated, burned, clearly strangled, stabbed, and beaten. It has died several times already. But what truly revolted Mao was the discovery that the Creature was covered in an unusual amount of spider veins. At first, Mao guessed that it was somewhere around the mid-thirties to early forties but looking closer he realized that they weren’t ordinary spider veins; unlike the normal blue that came with age, they were a bright unnatural green: the telltale sign of magical torture.

This form of torture was banned by the Guild twenty-five years ago, it was deemed unethical due to the extreme process of forcibly shooting waves of raw magic into the victim’s blood stream. Once forced in, the victim was subject to the full manipulation of the owner of said magic becoming puppets on strings. You could break bones and force them back together you could tear muscles and force them to keep moving, anything you wanted to do to the victim was in the realm of possibility. Once injected with the magic the victim became yours to control.

“You sick bastard, Clivus,” Mao cursed under his breath.

Focusing back on the scene unfolding before him, Mao looked into the Creature’s empty defeated eye. They didn’t seem to notice anything in the room around him. Yet something strange happened as the Creature was moved to the center of the arena. His empty eyes suddenly filled with flames of purpose as they looked directly at Mao- no, not at Mao, rather they looked into Mao, into his very being and soul. His heart caught in his throat; his eyes locked in an embrace with the Creature’s now beautiful deep amber eyes. He felt the urge to speak, to answer the voice that called to him in his mind. It tried to show him something, a name, a face, something was there. He could feel it was on the verge of existence in his mind, like the first rays of light of the rising sun. “Serve me” it spoke, and what could Mao do but accept?

In that exact moment within moments, the sun’s beams flooded into the arena through the focusing lenses of the Eye of Judgement. It was a dazzling spectacle, beams of refracted lights moved throughout the arena. With each passing beam, warmth flooded into the arena. The crowd was entranced, they gasped in wonder and joy, murmurs could be heard throughout the crowd. As everyone stared in wonder at the beams of light, Mao couldn’t help but stare at the poor Creature. That’s when he felt it.

“By the gods…” Mao whispered as his attention drew from the Creature’s amber gaze to Mao’s own hand. Slowly branding him was the symbol of the Fire Djinn Agni, the two faces of fire. Life and Death. Creation and Destruction. Light and Shadow. A balance. As he was about to lift his hand to the sun to look at the newest addition to his tattooed body, he found he didn’t need to shine a light upon it, as the brand itself glowed like dying embers. Forcing his eyes off of the wonder appearing on his hand, he looked back at the Creature. But no more did those intense amber eyes look at Doffer Mao. Now they gently closed in peaceful acceptance of his fate. Though this creature was barely human, he still retained his dignity.

Slowly the Creature was shackled to the X-cross in the center of the arena by his hands and feet. Then doing the honors himself, Supreme Judge Clivus Corduroy marked on the Creature three points with ink. A dot on the forehead, a dot on the heart, and a dot below the sternum. Representing Mind, Soul, and Body, respectively; the three aspects of existence. Once Corduroy retreated back to the control panel situated close to the Eye, the purification began.

Using the magic of the twenty master candidates, the Eye of Judgment was adjusted, aimed, and focused. The light of the sun splitting into three concentrated beams of light each precisely aimed over the three corresponding ink dots on the Creature’s body. Slowly the candidates began chanting and drawing magic circles in the air, pouring their magical energy into the 3 beams of light. As the energy flowed through the beams the Creatures skin began to blacken into charred flesh.

“More power! Make him scream!” barked Corduroy, his eyes a firestorm of rage. Following the Supreme Judge’s order, the candidate’s skin began to glow with their focused power, the air filled with magical pressure, and the dust off the ground began to stir into wild tornadoes dancing across the floor. The scents of charring flesh, rotted corpses, and magical essence was a medley of aromas unlike anything else in the known world. Soon enough the charred skin flaked away revealing a bubbling broth of melted muscle and boiling blood. Yet the Creature did not scream.

As frustration and anger filled the Supreme Judge and the candidates, the room of onlookers began to join in. The mob’s fury was a raging inferno, while the Creature, in stark contrast was at peace. Unable to believe his own eyes, Mao drew and casted a magnification spell onto the zoom scope to get an even better look at this Creature. Quite audibly, he gasped to himself in disbelief. Looking at the rage and frustration in Corduroy’s face Mao chuckled to himself. The bastard is truly crazy, He thought. Gripping the arms of his chair, Mao was at the edge of his seat. It was a rare event to see something defy the Supreme Judge Corduroy for this long and watching the anger and frustration flow from his colleague’s face brought a sick pleasure from Mao, he was almost rooting for the prisoner to retain his strength. His face grinned a grin he hasn’t felt in decades, not since he was back in his adventuring days has Mao felt this much excitement.

As much as he hated it, he wanted it to last an eternity. The screams of Corduroy bellowed like the sweet sound of the pipe organ Mao played in his youth. Mao was lost in this sick pleasure. Then came blood curdling scream that disrupted both Mao’s pleasure and the roaring of the crowd.

The Creature writhed in pain. His tensing muscles straining against the leather restraints, fingers moving in a sporadic repetition between a death grip and being sprawled out in all directions. Its torso flailing left and right shaking with so much force that the cross struggled to hold the pained Creature. The Creature struggled more and more to move with the dance of death, his convulsing head slamming against the headboard with so much force that boiling blood seeped from the head wound. Mao could imagine it now, seeing with his mind’s eye as Judgment’s Eye cooked the Creature’s skull like a boiled egg.

Wondering why the Creature is reacting only now, Mao scanned the arena. He noticed that some of the candidates began chanting hyper-sense tomes, designed to increase one’s overall awareness, but in this case altered so that the chant focused one’s pain receptors. The Creature had been resisting death with its fire magic, only now, that protection slowed the inevitable.

This scene of terror went on for almost half an hour before it lost both its strength and its will to live. Slowly but surely the beams of light empowered by the magic of twenty master candidates bored three precise holes through the Creature. It’s lifeless corpse still suspended to the cross by its arms and legs. As the beams of light faded away, judgment has been cast and the room of rage because a chamber of holy silence. Melted meat dropped from the corpse, muscle beneath the skin was noticeably torn and ripped, leaving strange indents and gorges in its charred flesh. The Creature’s amber eyes had long since bubbled and melted away, leaving empty sockets infinitely deeper in strangeness. Smoke radiated from flesh that had turned to smoldering piles of ash. The Creature’s final death was marked by countless others.

After several long minutes, it was the deep brooding voice of Supreme Judge Corduroy that broke the silence.

“Brothers, clergymen. The deed,” he paused.  “…Has been done. Another blasphemous Creature purified from this world. We Mages have done our part in this holy cleansing. Now let us leave the final prayers to the clergymen who have joined us today on this momentous occasion.” Pausing and scanning the room, letting the clergymen speak their holy prayers in ancient Mottenese, Corduroy noticed the disappointment on Mao’s face and held his head high.

After the prayers finished, his voice boomed once more. “Today was more than just the purification of another pagan beast, today is the day we show our strength to the world. Today we show that these ‘Eternal Hosts’ are not people like some would claim. Neither are they the weapons of world domination that the Tyrant to the east want us to think. And they are not eternal. No, these Creatures are no more than rabid beasts, beasts that defy the laws of nature and the laws of Holy Truth. And what do men of logic, men of holiness, men of power do to rabid beasts?”

“We put them down! We punish their sins! We purify their souls!” the mob roared in delightful unison.

“Yes! My brothers and clergymen, today we denounce Lord Cast’s ideas that the Eternal Host’s should be weapons of war. Today we denounce Jordane’s belief that they deserve the same rights as us, the pure. Today we denounce the Eternal Host’s and all those who support them!” Corduroy boomed.

Oh great, he’s talking about me.

“Today my friends, we shall unite our forces with the One True Church and purify this land. Today is when we ask of the Empire to join us and help us purify all of the known world in the name of the One True Goddess! The Goddess of Truth!” The Supreme Judge concluded with deep finality.

Roars of excitement and blind allegiance moved through the crowd like the waves of the sea. The tide of their energy pushed and pulled with the movements of Corduroy’s body. Soon enough the crowd was a mind of its own, Corduroy’s seeds of destruction had taken root. A coy smile flashed on Corduroy’s face. Mao could do little to reverse what he had started; Mao was but one man with little to no allies that could help. Not even all the power and influence he had would be of help now, this was not a matter of magic or politics; this was people falling into the age long plague of rage and hatred. Simple, pure, and near impossible to break let alone bend.

Time was of the essence, and to Mao there was not enough time to get everything done. He needed to act fast before Corduroy could have time to strike. This was a different type of battle. Corduroy had taken the first step, now everything depended on how Mao responded. He could cower in the corner and let Corduroy take the lead, or he could strike back. He moved before he had the chance to even contemplate the possible risks and rewards for either choice. Thinking won’t be enough for this task. It was time to step out of the spotlight and into the shadows.

Being the Grand Mage for decades, Mao has gained too much notoriety within the capital. His face was already known as well as his disposition against the unification of the church and guild. Precautions would already be in place in order to either coerce Mao into submission or to eliminate him as a threat. That final speech was simple, it labeled Mao as an enemy of the new world. He had felt this time was coming, but he did not expect it to be so soon.

He needed to leave the city and go underground. From there, his action could go more unnoticed. A big fish in a small pond made too many disturbances, but out by the sea they would be little more than ripples amongst the crashing waves. Quickly moving out of the arena before the crowd dispersed, Mao moved through the Grand Basilicas halls and stairways. Although the path was roundabout and at many points he moved in circles, he needed to cover his path. Confuse the Jury and their pawns before they could be moved into positions likely to end in checkmate. After some time, he began smudging his trail. Within the palace walls it was impossible to completely hide his trail, powerful spells ingrained in the walls, ceilings, floors, and foundations of the Basilica tracked movement of everyone within. Mao knew this as well as some counter measures. It’d buy him some time, and that was all he needed.

Like time mended a wound into a subtle scar, Mao did the same to his trail, dulling it and confiding it to only the immediate vicinity. Although not completely gone, at a glance one would look right over it. He hoped. It’s never a sure thing, some people like trained mages may be looking for tricks like this; others, usually palace guards untrained in the magical arts, would look for the blatantly obvious. He hoped the latter would be sent after him.

In the center of one of the hallways in the eastern wing, somewhere around three quarter’s down the hall’s length Mao placed his hand on the wall by the tips of his fingers palm up and rotated his hand counterclockwise. Just as the seal unlocked, Mao could hear the movement of people down the hall. Quickly Mao walked through the seal as if he walked through the wall itself. Once through, he spun around and quickly placed his hand back in the place he left it off on the other side, palm down, and turned it back clockwise, resealing the door.

With a sigh of relief, the aging Grand Mage pressed his back against the now solidified wall. He could hear the soldiers moving on the other side of the wall as if it were paper thin, but they would never be able to hear him from his side. Although simple in theory, he had used a very powerful and complex spell in order to guarantee that he remained hidden from the palace’s watchful eyes. The spell itself simply locks whatever the caster wants and can only be opened by the caster or whoever knows the exact steps to open or manipulate the seals. Simple yet effective. After enough time went by, Mao had decided that he had regained some energy and began the long descent down the stairway in front of him.

Suddenly thoughts of fire began blasted into his mind as his branded hand began to glow and sizzle with heat. He knew what was happening. He needed time to research, before it gets out of hand. I must keep moving.

Down and down he went for what seemed to drag on without end. An ancient spiraling staircase built into the earth marked the secret entrance into Yggdrasil, an underground labyrinth of tunnels and passageways that spread out across the continent. Through here Mao knew he could escape without being followed. The vast tunnels were essentially invisible to magic. According to rumor, when the Guild and other groups decided to map the vast tunnel system during the war against the Native Corellans some three centuries ago, they discovered that the tunnels themselves were naturally absorbent of magical energies. This meant that any magic used from within the tunnels would die out extremely quickly. He hoped these were more than just rumor, he needed to hide from arguably the most powerful source of magic on the continent.

                The wheels of change slowly began to turn, no matter what Mao could do, he was only one man. He needed to act, he needed to succeed. Unfortunately, the people of the Empire had to wait for his help, for now what needed to be done could not wait. Staring down at the mark on his hand, he felt an urge, a tugging as if someone were pulling him gently by a string. The job of guardian and guide, and slave, has been pushed into Mao’s arms, he recognized the signs.

Shit.

It was called the Calling, something he’s only read of down in the archives of the Basilica, but without a doubt this was it. From what he could remember the Calling is a form of magical bonding created between an Eternal Host and their target, it was a string of fate- no matter how far the two that are bonded go from each other they are connected. Now the descriptions written down were vague and honestly sounded like a bunch of ramblings of a madman, it went something like …Once the host and target are bonded through time and space, the minds are melted. Not through thought but through feeling, through urges and power. Magic. Strength. Emotions will guide your way, and where your emotions falter so will the body… The general gist Mao was sure he would further understand with time. For now, the issue with the Empire, Church, and Guild had to wait. As a matter of fact, Mao realized that if he let the three fight amongst themselves, he may be able to have more time to find the new Eternal Host and… and what? Keep them safe? Mao wasn’t sure what would happen, maybe in time if he cannot find the new Host, the pain of being apart would turn Mao crazy, maybe it would kill him, maybe it would drive him to kill the new Host. Maybe it would do nothing at all, if the Host never truly awakens, Mao guessed he could live with the subtle burning in his hand.

Unlike most people in the Empire, Mao never found any reason for the hatred and prejudice towards Eternal Hosts, it wasn’t their choice to be given the powers that they have and as a result they were to be systematically executed. It was punishing before there was a crime. It was fear. Eternal Hosts are beings between existences, Humans are beings of the mind, Animals of the body, and Eternals of energy and the spirit. A Host was the combination of them all.

                Reaching the bottom of the stone stair, he sat and caught his breath. I’m forty for the fuck’s sake, I’m not built for exercise. He groaned at the strain of getting back on his feet, stretching his legs, and cracking his spine brought some relief to him. Sighing, Mao moved toward the entrance of the tunnel, and picked up one of the old torches from off the wall.

At first, he tried to ignite the torch on his own but remembered that the tunnels would suck up any magic in them. It wasn’t pitch black down there, there were luminescent fungi and glowing veins of earth magic throughout the tunnel and small cavern that made up the room he stood in. He suspected that the source of the magical absorption may be from these glowing veins, but he couldn’t be sure as the Guild ceased research on the tunnels two centuries ago when faced with conflict from the arriving Akarrans lead by Lord Akira. Yet the prospect of a torch’s warmth brought a smile to his face, Mao unfortunately left his favourite winter robes back in the High Keep of the Basilica, the thought never occurred to him that the tunnels would chill to the bone, it seemed age had taken his wits from him as well as his strength.

After some time, Mao’s search for something to help ignite his torch came up fruitless. Resolved, Mao quickly ignited a flame hovering over the palm of his hand and in a swift stroke ignited the torch. It took to the flames quickly and soon it was healthily ablaze. Before he could let anymore magic become drained from himself, he quickly cut off the flow of energy into the flame and, like a Gaslamp, the flame winked out of existence leaving Mao alone in the cave with only the light of the torch and the glowing mushrooms to keep him company. The feeling of the magic being sucked out of him was astonishing, he could only describe it as if the air he breathed slowly became… less. It was a feeling he didn’t want to keep on experiencing, but it became evident that he would have to repeat this process of quickly igniting torch for warmth several times before he would find a looters city or an exit out into the wild.

                As a First Rate pyromancer, he knew he could last quite a while repeating this process. Granted he didn’t like the feeling of his magic sucked out of him like drinking out of a straw, but it was necessary.

Hours went by down in the tunnel and there was no end in sight, forks in the road occurred every now and then but generally they were marked up in the old tongue which Mao could read. He relished the idea of not seeing any signs of civilization for a while, it left him alone with his thought, time to think without really thinking.

For the thousands of years that the Guild has stood, it was the center of learning. It was where knowledge was unrestricted, as long as you had the skill to understand it. It was where magic flourished, and where logic was the most important trait a mage must have. But ever since Corduroys’ ascension to Supreme Judge ten years ago, the Guild has become more and more religious. More and more irrational zealots fill the halls that once nourished logic and thought. The fate of the Guild was all but certain as of today. No more would the Mages Guild be the center of the learned, now it will be the training ground for Battle-Priests and holy warriors built to cleanse the world of arbitrary threats like the Eternals, who are simply people born with immense magical capabilities. Thinking this much was more too much work for Mao to do right now, his day has seemingly never ended and continuing this walk now would do him little.

After finding a small cave hidden by an old mine cart, Mao decided this would be his place of rest for a while. The cave was little more than a hole in the wall barely big enough for him to lay down but offered much needed privacy in the unlikely event some vagrant or traveler walked by, so it sufficed. As he lay there, resting on a pile of smooth stones with only the light of the glowing mushrooms keeping him safe from the darkness of the cave, he found that instead of worrying about the impending war, or pondering about what uncertain future lay ahead of him, or planning his next move in the great game, he dreamed of fire.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

End of Prologue.

 [1] (her-Ah-tick) The major religion of the Mott empire. The belief in the “One True Goddess, Hera, otherwise known as The Mother.”

[2] Device that measures pressure levels

[tarithenurse]

All is fair in Love & War - 11

Pairing: Loki x reader Content: Well, there’s pining. And hopefully some wise words about pining. And then there’s pain and not just a little bit. I’m talking “get your tissues, chocolate and wine”-sort of pain. Sorry (actually, I am...just a smidgen), I didn’t even write the adult action I had planned, only hinted at it.

11. Words unspoken

There is little time once the decision has been made for you to talk with Loki. Envoys from Vanaheim are introduced to you by Odin, and together with the royal family they begin to shape your future by inventing an entire life for you to assume as your own until one day, hopefully, your quest in Sjöblik is complete. By the gods…what’ve I gotten myself into? Yet each time doubt stirs, you only have to think of the squalid life of so many Midgardians, recall the lies being told to those who fight and those left behind; then your determination returns.

Days are spent in a haze of lessons (pretending to be an Alfheimer requires a minimum of understanding for the language although no one in the Midgardian court should speak it), hours standing still for tailors, and long nights studying the history of both of the nations concerned. All while at the same time maintaining you physical prowess. Sleep comes sparingly, but deep although an occasional dream has you waking up sweaty and with a throbbing need you cannot sate.

…   LOKI’s PoV   …

The last night come to soon. Although Loki has done all he can to ensure the safety of [Y/N], he still feels frustratingly powerless. Soon she will be beyond his reach, his aid, on a mission that might separate them forever, and although he wishes to then he knows that he has no right to stop her from going.

All I can do is pray that she returns. Staring into the dusk, he’s only vaguely aware of someone approaching.

“My son,” Frigga’s melodic voice works like a calming balm, “why do you seek solitude rather than join us for dinner?”

There is no doubt in his heart that the queen already knows. In many ways is she the wise one in the royal couple, choosing to observe quietly before jumping to conclusions. It is a method both Loki and Thor have been exposed to while growing up, more often than not finding themselves exposed in the middle of some trick by their mother before anyone else had realized that they were up to anything. Not that it would not have been fair to assume at any given time as the two princes always were causing some ruckus.

Still he tries to pretend all is fine. “Needed some fresh air, mother.” When she does not leave, but comes to stand beside him, looking over the colourful lands, there is little he can think of to put her mind at ease. “It is wonderful to be home again. Smell the sweet air of Asgard. I do love it here.”

From the corner of the eye he can see the gentle smile that curls Frigga’s lips. “You always have had a preference to the sweet and gentle things in life.”

It is peaceful, in a way, to stand there as the sky darkens above them. I suppose she is right, the Jotun king from Asgard muses. The fragility of a flower or a butterfly’s wing captures his attention much more than the wild snowstorms and dark winters that his kin favours. He can find comfort in the cold, of course, but his heart only fills again at the sight of the first green leaf.

“Love is a peculiar thing and too often do we fall short of capturing its essence in our symbolism.” Frigga is not looking at him, just talking to the night and the stars above that are beginning to appear. “We use precious stones to symbolize undying love, but diamonds are hard. Cold and jagged. No, the real symbol for love, if you must use a dead object to represent it, is a pearl. They are rounded, almost soft as you hold them against the skin. And you need to nourish it, work to keep it warm or it will begin to lose its luster, my child, love requires work and dedication every day or it too will fade.” Finally turning to face him, Frigga takes his hand. “But do not forgo the work. When you have found your pearl, do not dismiss it.”

Loki has no words, they are not needed anyways, he simply allows himself to be folded into his mother’s arms as if he were a little boy once more.

…   READER’s PoV   …

Even amongst all these friendly people who have taken to you as much as the mission, the room feels empty when your former captor is not there, and so you only breathe easily as he rejoins the boisterous dinner. Dinner. To the Asgardian this appears to be nothing special. Apparently, they dine like this every night, and according to the few servants you manage to question it is hardly more lavish than the meals of the common folk. Sure, there is a greater variety on these tables, but that anyone should starve while the court feasts? The very notions seems absurd to them. It’s possible. If they can do it, then so can we!

But still, despite knowing that no Asgardian is hungry tonight, you find it hard to enjoy the food. Excusing yourself early, you cling to the hope that there is peace to be found in sleep…though the explanation given is the need for rising early in the morning due to the long road ahead.

Naturally, Loki offers to walk you to the guest chambers, and you are partially thankful for it as you still find the golden palace difficult to navigate. On the other hand, the silence in the endless hallways decorated with marble, gold, and crystals becomes oppressing as neither of you dare to speak, and so you make it all the way to the door before you open your mouth.

“I want to –“ you begin, but Loki has chosen that exact moment to talk as well. A few confused seconds pass before you nod, smiling shyly at the awkwardness. “Please, you first, Loki.”

For a second, he looks lost before seemingly reaching a decision. “Perhaps I should apologize, little mortal, for taking you prisoner.” A sly twinkle is brought back to his eyes.

“Hardly! I came looking for you.” It is hard to keep a serious façade at this odd conversation. “Besides, you haven’t exactly treated me badly. So don’t worry, you can sleep without fear of blame.”

Wanting to end the night on this lighter note, you turn to leave.

…   LOKI’s PoV   …

Catching her hand, Loki stops [Y/N] on her way into the chambers she’s been given for the stay. ”Perhaps so, but I would hate to see you captured again. Stay out of trouble.”

The crooked smile manages to brighten her eyes. ”I always behave, my king.”

You are the embodiment of trouble, little pet. The teasing smile, the way she tilts her hips to enhance the sender waist under the thin fabric…all of her stirs the predatory side of the Jotun and calls forth a rumble in his chest, eliciting a breathy gasp in response. There is no fear in her pretty face, though, only playfulness as she retreats through the door.

”Are you claiming innocence, my pet?” His feet carry him after the slender figure.

”Maaaybe…why don’t you find out?”

The door falls shut behind Loki with a flicker of magic just as he pounces for her. But the little Midgardian is quick, avoiding his grasp and leaving only a giggle behind for him. The little minx wants to play? We can play.

…   READER’s PoV   …

Feeling Loki’s cool limbs around you and listening to the quiet humming, there is no place you would rather be. Well, that is not entirely true, of course, because right now it would be nice to be back in Utgard…but still. You know you could be content anywhere as long as you were near him. That is why you feel safe in spite of everything. It is why your heart is breaking from the thought that you will have to be apart. Not right now. You force the thoughts away, wanting to cherish the afterglow without any sadness, and eventually Loki’s humming brings you to rest. Your limbs are wonderfully heavy, the heat that had coursed through you diminished by the strong and slender figure pressed against you, and you can feel how you are balancing on the precipice of sleep. A soft kiss is planted on your shoulder (one of many), before your king nestles his face in your hair.

”I love you.”

It takes a moment before the words truly makes sense in your drowsy mind. Once they do, however, they elicit a million emotions with each their own response, and in the confusion you do not manage to say anything. All you can do is cling on to Loki because what he has said is the very thing you feel aching in your bones, running through your vein. It is the air in your lungs and now that is has been spent on the words it is as if you are suffocating. He makes room for you as you turn to you back and supports himself on the elbow to hover above you, face so near his raven strands are brushing against your cheeks mixed with the flint and pine-scent. There is fear in the god’s eyes.

“Oh Loki,” you manage to whisper, your heart breaking, knowing a world of pain is waiting, “I love you too.” The joy your answer sparks is bright, flaring like the sun on winter snow. “Please forgive me.”

Already, he is showering you in tiny kisses, but he stops at the taste of salt water on your cheeks. “Forgive you? What for?!”

As if in a trance, you see your own fingers stroke his cheek before burying in his hair. “I’m yours. For as long as I live…but therein lies the problem, doesn’t it? I don’t want to cause you grief, but unless you can push these feelings aside…” Angrily, you wipe away some of the tears from you face. “You should find someone…s’m’one like you.”

“But it is you I want, my dear.”

Loki has trapped you in a cage made of his body. Knees by hips and hands by head, his frame is both a shield and an obstacle to overcome in the hopes of staving off the worst blow.

Sniffling, the determination you had hoped for is slowly conjured. “I’ve considered it. I know that you’ll outlive me, so spare yourself the pain.”

“What if there was a way?”

The deep sigh wafts through your king’s hair. “This isn’t like…like learning to read or –“

“Yes or no! If there was a way, would you let me love you?” A fire is blazing in his eyes that you never have seen before. “Would you stay with me?”

“I’d be yours as long as you would have me.”

“Then come back to me and I swear I will have found a way for us to live full lives together.”

[mrneighbourlove]

Negotiations in a Fiery Alliance: Ch 5. Powerful Fiery Union

Zannah took a breath as she cracked her neck, feeling drained from the meeting. One of Annuciata’s brothers made a pass at her as she first entered her room. She had to put on a pretty face and explain she just wasn’t interested at the time being for any tours.

Getting herself ready, she had one of the palace servants escort her to the Queen. With a knock at the door, the maid gave a bow. “My Queen. Emperor Zannah wishes to attend the spa session with you.”

"Very well, let her in." Queen Annuciata responded from inside the spa room. She was sitting in the pool, full of steaming water, relaxing with her long hair in an up-do. The hot water did wonders for her sore muscles and feet from the high heels. "And attend to her needs."

Zannah had her clothes taken and folded nicely. Using a towel to cover herself, she dipped into the pool, the water sizzling at her touch as she adjusted the water perfectly to her needs. Throwing the towel away for the maids to take away, she sat a meter away from the Queen. “This is nice.”

"It's the best part of the day, when I come in here, and I can relax." Annuciata sighed as she took a sip of juice from the platter the servant offered. "A little time for me, myself and I... and present company included."

"I can only hope that I can come close to one tenth of greatness of yourself in your spare time." Zannah rolled her shoulders and held her head back. "One of your brothers thought it would be cute to show me his tower. Is that code for something?"

"Let me guess, it was Dario, wasn't it?" Annuciata snickered, knowing that her twin brothers were always up to something with the visiting royal women. "If they cannot rule here, I suppose they're setting their sights elsewhere."

"Shame for them I'd find their 'towers' brittle and frail~"

"Prefer women to men, Empress?" Annuciata removed one of the cucumbers from her eyelids to look at Zannah. "Can't say I blame you."

"This worlds history has been dominated by strong, wise, powerful woman. Many who had to fight against monstrous men. And let's be honest. Men covet woman because we are fine and beautiful. Why can't I have some of that as well I say."

"You have a point, Empress." Annuciata motioned for the servants to offer the Empress a drink. "Dario and Enzio fancy you because you are both fine and beautiful... and you have a kingdom." The queen then inquired of Zannah. "Though I am curious, Empress, as to why you've never found a man to control? Or is it because all the handsome ones like Kahli have been taken?"

"Because I don't desire a man. And my kingdom does not require one. The most pressure I ever received was to have a child. I did so. Having a lover can help build power, but that is not the reason to have one, or my desire to have one." The Empress took her drink and swallowed the succulence of the beverage. "Men like Kahli make excellent instruments to fight for your will."

"I cannot help but wonder how the young sister of Queen Zarazu's managed to catch Kahli, especially since he's a rarity with that kind of power." Annuciata slid the tray of cucumbers over to Zannah, in case she wanted a couple to rest upon her face. "Either way, plenty of fish in the sea, but how to know which is right for me? Things are so much easier and sensible with a woman anyhow. Do you currently have a lover?"

"I do not Queen Annuciata." Zannah slowly took bite of one of the cucumbers. "You ever friends with Princess RInku?"

"I've met her on a few occasions, but we are not necessarily known." Annuciata shrugged lightly as she sunk into the water up to her shoulders. "We're cordial to each other due to her status of princess, though we're not very close friends."

"She was the only person I viewed as potential lover. I didn't work out do to the war, but I think we had a spark. I spark that died due to our responsibilities after the war ended. So she set my standards. Power, courage, and beauty." Zannah gave a light laugh. "Of course, I was sixteen at the time, so how would I know if I was looking at the most beautiful woman in front of me or not."

"Young love is so innocent and so pure, I remember those days." Annuciata sighed as she thought back on the memories. "I used to have this crush on stable boy when I was thirteen. He was nearing eighteen. So handsome, so tall, so charming... until he became a guard, and his personality shifted. No longer was he the nice boy I fell for, but a condescending jerk to those who worked under him. Men."

“Well, someone close to me that I admired tried to make me his concubine when he had newfound power go to his head.” Zannah took a sip of her wine, eying over the Queen. It was a shame the water and the steam covered her features. “How’s your joints feeling?”

"I stand by my statement of why buy the whole pig if you can just get the sausage for free." Annuciata picked off her cucumbers to look at the Empress. "Some old hurts will never disappear, Empress, leaving scars for life. Though the warmth of the spa manages to ease them away... well, some of them."

“No... they never will.” Zannah cleared her mind and focused on the Queen. “I’m guessing you’ve never had a Hasai massage before, have you?”

"No, I have not." Annuciata sounded intrigued. "Is it some sort of specialty in your empire?"

“The Skurge tribe, given their fiery abilities, have the talent to heal and soften the muscles with just a touch. I am not only not an exception to this, but a master of the art. Would you trust and give this Empress the honour of demonstrating?”

"A demonstration sounds like a slice of heaven, Empress." Annuciata agreed to the massage, scooting over closer to Zannah. "My neck is always tense. I feel like when I'm on the throne, I cannot move unless it's with all the grace of a doll."

Zannah brushed her thighs against the Queen's, a warmth already filling her. "Be sure to relax."

Getting behind Annuciata, Zannah began her work, her hands starting below the Queen's shoulders. The warmth Annuciata felt from just holding hands the night before was magnified immensely now. The Empress applied pressure with her palms as she began her work. "If you want to sit on my lap, or get out of the pool, I can position closer if you'd like."

"Hrm-mmmhhh..." Annuciata had been reduced to mere little mumbles by the intense warmth spreading throughout her body. It felt so wonderful to be rid of all the aches. Keeping proper posture was important, though sometimes, Annuciata wondered if it was really necessary to wear such a heavy crown. Maybe she could have some of the jewels taken out and switched with fakes to reduce the weight. For now, all she wanted was to enjoy this massage. "Whatever's... mmm... easier for you..."

Zannah lifted the Queen rather easily onto her lap by picking her up from the waist. Continuing, she went down Annuciata's back. Her bare bottom against the Empress thighs felt great. And at this close, Annuciata was sure she could feel abs if she pressed closely enough with her back.

"Oh wow." Annuciata was definitely surprised when Zannah lifted her so easily. "Mmm... you're pretty built for a lady..." The Queen of Danjur was like putty in the Empress' hands. "Not a lot of those around these parts."

"The Hasai are a warrior race at heart. I'm no exception. I was forced to train as a child, so if I stopped now, all that hard work would turn to fat. I wish I had a body like you Annuciata. So petite. So smooth..." The Empress rubbed the Queen's neck, rubbing out her last kinks. With a smooth swift motion, she gave Annuciata a crack of the neck, and with a pop, she felt fantastic.

"OH!" Annuciata jolted slightly when she felt her bones shift slightly. It felt... wonderful. The tension was gone, the aches disappeared, and the Queen felt like she could actually move again without the stiffness in her body. "That was... are you sure it wasn't magic?"

"Part of it was, but most of it is just knowing the nervous system of the human body." Zannah's hands lay on the Queen's stomach, her heat still filling the Queen. "You should be good for three weeks of full free motion."

"You're like a fireplace, Empress." Annuciata was still not used to being touched so freely, jumping a little at Zannah's hands. "I feel like I can do my ballet without wincing now."

"Tell me more about what you think you can do? I want to hear your imagination."

"I took ballet as a little girl and wanted nothing more than to fly like the beautiful swans outside in my pond." Annuciata stretched her limbs. "Although I lacked wings, I still felt like I could soar when I took those leaps..." She looked over her shoulder at the Empress. "Thank you."

"I can see it. You're beautiful." As Annuciata turned to her, and kept her gaze on the Empress, Zannah slowly leaned in to kiss her lips.

Annuciata quickly pulled in Zannah for a deep kiss.

"... by the goddesses, I've wanted to do that since I first saw you."

"I'm glad you feel that way." Zannah returned the kiss again, moving a hand to rub Annuciata's thigh, the other holding her hand.

"Don't get me wrong, I like men, but women are so much better." Annuciata tangled her hands in Zannah's hair. "You are so much better. A literal goddess of fire just waltzed into my kingdom and like hell I'm letting you go."

"You've been witty, charming, and intelligent in what I've seen from you. And you understand power. You've fit all my standards." Zannah turned Annuciata to face her, aggressively gripping at her breasts under the water, kissing her deep again. A burning heat was burning in the Empress, the factory of love at work. When Hasai found a mate, a true mate, they bonded for life. Zannah knew that these were early signs of that. Despite the potential political danger, she didn't stop.

"Excuse my language, Empress, but I want to fuck." Annuciata placed a single finger on Zannah's lips, giving a soft gasp as those hands squeezed her breasts. "So shush with the talk for now, and let me just hear those moans." Without giving Zannah a chance to protest, Annuciata pushed the Empress onto the ledge and opened her legs. Then, she lowered her mouth to lick at Zannah's clit.

Zannah's body was dripping wet, but Annuciata was making her body simmer, with actual steam sizzling the water off her body. Zannah started to pant as the Queen went low against her clit.

Annuciata ran her hands down Zannah's legs, and then back up to her thighs. Her fingers spread open Zannah's folds and her tongue dove inside the empress' hot insides. It was almost like a drug, this heat filling her from inside out, like there was a fire inside of body. Was it part of Zannah's magic? Or was it just a mutual connection?

Zannah gritted her teeth, her walls squeezing on the tongue. Placing a hand on Annuciata's head, she felt her majestic hair, and pushed her to go deeper. "S-such technique."

"Hrmmm-mmm." Annuciata lifted her mouth off of Zannah's intimate parts with a grin. Her tongue swirled around the outer parts of her mouth, almost like she was making sure to get all of the empress' taste. "And? Do you want more?"

"Yes. In fact, I demand more." Zannah massaged her smaller breasts, licking her lips in anticipation. "I could make love to you on the floor, on a bed, or anywhere else you desire."

"As long as you don't melt me into a pile of goo, Danjur needs it's queen in one piece." Annuciata purred at the empress. "What is your preference? I'll make sure we won't be disturbed."

Zannah scooped Annuicata out of the tub and pushed her onto the bare floor, holding her down by the wrists. "Let's get a little savage~"

With another purr, Zannah kissed Annuicata again, lathering her tongue with the Queens own.

"Define 'savage', Zannah, I'd like to see what you really think of the word." Annuciata wrapped her legs around Zannah's waist. "And don't give me a textbook answer."

"Tell me, what's your tolerance for pain?" Zannah trailed her hand to the back of Annuciata's neck to hold her steady.

"Did you take a good look at my feet?" Annuciata had horrid looking toes and bruised feet due to the intense strain of ballet dancing. Even some toenails were gone, having been ripped or broken off during dancing. Most of her toes and a few bones in her feet had been broken due to the repeated training. "Ballet is not for the faint of heart, you know."

Zannah took her hand so Annuciata could feel a scar on her lower back. "Feel that? Wounds from the war. I also have some scars under my hair... dig into it. Make them feel something again."

"So a little twinge gets you going?" Annuciata wrapped her fingers into Zannah's hair once more and lightly scrapped them into her skull. "Maybe a little..." She took her teeth and bit into Zannah's neck, giving her a hickey. "Love bite?"

"Hmmm, that's good. Tell me how you like fire~" Zannah's hands warmed up, and Annuicita felt a hot smack on her breast like a heated poker. It didn't leave any marks, but she felt the heat none the less.

"OH!" Annuciata did jump slightly at the intense heat, however, the tingle of pain disappeared as soon as it came. "Fire is passionate, illuminating, and dangerous... you get too close, you get burnt. Yet, you get close enough... you get such a lovely warmth."

"Exactly." The Queen suddenly felt Zannah's fingers pour into her womanhood. Pumping her, the Empress forced Annuciata to lick her other hand. "You're a tight little lady. Let's stretch you out."

"E-Easy there," Annuciata took in a sharp inhale. "Tight for a reason, my eager empress. Hasn't been occupied in a while." Nibbling on Zannah's fingers, the queen of Danjur wriggled slightly under the touches.

"Good. More for me than." Zannah continued for a while, pressing her thumb on he lover's clit. "Bite harder."

"Ahh... as you wish, empress." Annuciata had a smug expression as she then bit hard on Zannah's shoulder, close enough to draw blood.

Zannah gave deep moan from the pain, savouring it. When Annuciata licked her shoulder wound, she felt a high like no other from Zannah's divine blood. "Oh yes."

"Oh... oh my..." Annuciata felt like she was on a high. This was a different feeling from drinking too much wine, this was like floating among the clouds. Was she really flying now? It was like flying. This truly was one of her dreams, for sure, this kind of sensation. She wanted more, she never wanted to let go. Snaking her hands down Zannah's back, she slipped one finger into the empress' pussy, wriggling it around.

Zannah gritted her teeth, simply only able to massage Annuciata's body as both woman stood on their knees. "Oh Annuciata~ My dear, you're beautiful."

"Beautiful or savage, Zannah, you tell me, can a woman be both?" Annuciata nudged the Empress onto her back, and eased her way between Zannah's legs. Then nipped really hard on Zannah's inner thigh before turning her attention back to the empress' clit, laving her tongue slowly, teasingly.

"Yes, we can." Zannah groaned, not caring if anyone heard or saw them. This was her and Annuciata's moment. She rubbed her own clit, and Annuciata saw literal electric sparks go between Zannah’s finger tips. "I'm feeling something primal for you."

"Oh? Close?" Annuciata pushed her fingers inside Zannah's passage, moving them in and out, all the while, making sure to keep some attention to Zannah's clit.

Zannah finally opened her mouth, needing to breath through the pressure. Annuciata and her felt the fire burning both inside them. The Empress would never admit it, but she was becoming undone by the Queen. She pulled her close to kiss her passionately to give the Queen of Danjur some pleasure in turn as she continued her handy work down below.

It was not long before the heat rising in Annuciata caused the queen to fill the edge of bliss feeling her senses. So this was what flying was like? Birds were so free, so gifted, and could go anywhere in the world. That's what Annuciata wanted, and right now, she was experiencing it. Yet, her fingers continued to touch and pleasure Zannah.

Zannah felt her most animalistic instincts burn. Sex had always been done with lower beings before. There was no love in it. Perhaps that was why now she felt her mind crackle and burn. Annuciata was no ordinary woman. She was royalty by blood, just like herself. The need to bond could not be denied.

Applying her own fingers to the Queen, both woman pleasured and pumped each other. Finally, Zannah felt she could let go. Her mind and body gave out, and like a bomb, she exploded into a triumphant scream of ecstasy. Her fingers gave Annuciata a shock on her clit as Zannah’s juices flowed down her thighs, her feet buckling.

"I think..." Annuciata was out of breath as she slumped against Zannah. "I finally felt... what flying was like..."

Zannah held her gently by the face, turning her to look at her. The Emperor’s eyes burned with lust and love. “Annuciata. Bond with me.”

"Bond?" Annuciata repeated, unsure of what Zannah meant.

“Bond, be my mate for life”.

"Mate for life?" Annuciata sounded surprised. "Zannah, I... as much as I would like that, you know it's..." She ran a had down her face, sighing sadly. "It's not possible."

"I know the implications. I know the political calculations we'd need to go around." Zannah's golden eyes burned as she lifted Annuciata up to stand with her, holding the Queen close. "This alliance of ours can become much, much more now. And I would burn the world for you. My power is limitless if I were to use its vast potential. And I'd do it for you. As a Hasai, I've chosen you."

The Empress took the hair out of the Queen's face to look at her more clearly.

"Listen... I know I sound crazy, but what we did here was something special. I don't care how slow and calculated we need to take this, but I want you Annuciata. We have the combined power to make a relationship work."

"While we want it to work, there's still some issues we'd have to sort." Annuciata sighed, looking downcast. "We cannot be together because of our kingdoms. You'd have to be in the Kikai Empire, I'd have to be here. I'll have to produce an heir sooner or later. And not to mention, we'd never be able to let anyone know..."

"Annuciata." Zannah gripped the Queen's chin firmly to look back at her. "You are Queen of your nation. Who will stand against you? And I am a God given flesh. Give me your faith, as through me you can find the inner strength to overcome any trial. I have a plan my dear."

"What plan?"

"Give your kingdom a child. Give them a beacon to have faith in the future. Once that is done, put your foot down. You can have anything you set your mind to. As for our kingdoms, we will have an open relationship, building a superpower together between our two nations. Uskar, Labrymma, Al-Daida, Omisha, and even Hyrule wouldn't compare to our combined might. With you by my side, and I at yours, we'd have unlimited power."

"Power yes, but... power is not everything, Zannah." Annuciata held the empress' hand. "There has to be a balance. Too much power, there would be targets on your back and my own. We'd have to be careful, for sure. Danjur will have to be safe and so will the Kikai Empire. We would love each other, but our duty is to our people." She shook her head. "I don't want anything to happen to you. While I know your might in magic and strength far surpasses my own, there are others out there who could possibly take you from me."

"None. No one can kill me. Especially now. With us together, our people will be the greatest on earth. Give me power... but also give me love. Trust me." Zannah gave Annuciata a pillowly kiss on the lips.

"Death finds a way of claiming even those who are immortals, beautiful..." Anncuiata leaned into the soft smooch. "We will have to be a secret for now."

"Why do we need it to be a secret? What are you afraid of?" Zannah pulled the Queen close to her.

"... my brothers." Annuciata frowned. "They'll see it as a weakness to extort. They'll try to use it as an excuse to take away my throne. A woman and another woman cannot produce a child. They'll see me as incompetent and try to sway the council their way. My kingdom would suffer for it... or horrors upon horrors, yours would."

"They are weak. Do not focus your mind on them." Zannah placed her finger tips on the Queen's temples to channel a calming energy into her. The Empress felt a need to make her lover feel safe. "It's not extortion. It's a partnership. You hold their miserable lives in your hands. I could even take them away from your burdened mind if you wished. As for a child, you can find a donor, just as I did. You giving birth you show your little council, but more importantly your people you have a legacy for them. Mark my words, from this point on, I will not allow either of our people to suffer."

"Weak or not, I will have to ensure my brothers do not try to turn my kingdom into a waste." Annuciata then brought up the main concern on her mind. "Even if we did pursue this, Zannah, I cannot let it influence my decisions with other kingdoms. I have to be fair. If I did find a donor for a child or created a scheme to make it appear as the others envisioned, how would we be able to give love to each other? The Kikai Empire is so far away."

Zannah lowered her head. She found herself having to control her temper as she breathed. Her hands caressed up and down the hips of the Queen. "You're making it hard to be in control of my emotions. I suppose that is due to my biology after the love making we did just now. Being 'fair' is what a child uses to have an advantage to stop having those stronger reign over them. Our love does not effect other kingdom's relationships. I'd travel as often as you needed me. And at a call I'd bring you to me. We can make this work, but I need you to have faith in me my darling."

"Faith... I suppose that is why religion is so difficult. It's hard to have faith when all the obstacles are ever present in your path." Annuciata kissed Zannah on the forehead. "Though I believe my faith in you will not change."

"Thank you. I will do what I can to bring us together." Zannah pulled Annuciata in for another kiss. "I'd like to return to your quarters."

"Hrm, my quarters? To stay?" Annuciata jested lightly. "I'll be honest, Zannah, I'm not good at sharing, I've always been a brat that way... might not let you leave."

"And I've always been good at disciplining brats. Be it my brother, my children, and perhaps even you." Zannah trailed a finger under the Queen's neck and pulled her along. "Show me the way my darling~"

"You can try all you want, but I doubt you'll succeed." Annuciata grinned at Zannah. "Come this way, my dear..."

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Ford Greene and the Moonies

Ford Greene: Attorney at odds

By Tad Whitaker, IJ reporter      January 9, 2005 Marin Independence Journal

San Anselmo resident Ford Greene sounds like a typical Marin County lawyer, what with his outspoken liberalism, scruffy hair and a white Porsche in the garage. But this self-described “cult buster” is anything but that.

Greene was in the spotlight recently for posting a large political sign on the side of his office building along Sir Francis Drake Boulevard, where commuters are faced with messages against the Iraq war and President Bush, among other things. …

But the furor surrounding the sign doesn’t compare with what’s been stirred up in Greene’s professional life: He has been prosecuted for kidnapping in Colorado and has won a landmark case before the California Supreme Court against the Unification Church that enabled former followers to sue for damages. Greene says he has de-programmed more than 100 followers —often called Moonies— of the church, which was founded in 1954 by the Rev. Sun Myung Moon.

Those professional chops made Greene one of six finalists for the honor of Trial Lawyer of Year in 2003 by the organization Trial Lawyers for Public Justice. But his drive stems from an experience many people would try to forget.

“I was a Moonie slave,” he says. “The Moonies’ nickname for me is a special servant of Satan.”

Greene’s “cult-busting” and colorful past, however, have turned him into a lightning rod for criticism for the organizations he targets.

“He’s a wing nut,” says Jeff Quiros, president of the Church of Scientology of San Francisco. “He really is.”

Aylesworth Crawford “Ford” Greene III, 52, comes from a family whose Ross Valley roots can be traced to the 1880s. …

Greene grew up the oldest of four privileged children who were raised around San Anselmo and Ross. The nuclear family expanded when two cousins needed a home after their mother died of cancer.

Greene’s father was a successful corporate lawyer who attended Yale University with former New York Sen. James L. Buckley, who became the young Greene’s godfather. His mother served as chairwoman of the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley and was on an advisory commission for the Golden Gate National Recreation Area.

Greene attended … The Thatcher School in Ojai, near Ventura, for high school. But he ran away during his freshman year in 1969 and came home.

“I wanted to be a hippie at Redwood with my friends,” he says.

Greene says he “terrorized” his parents while attending Redwood and ultimately graduated from Woodside Priory in Portola Valley. He briefly attended college in Southern California but left, depressed over a difficult romantic relationship.

Back in Marin, Greene bucked hay, milked cows and unclogged sewers at Straus Family Creamery before taking a backpacking trip in which he climbed 16 14,000-foot peaks in three months. At about that time, his sister Catherine, 18, disappeared.

Moonies expanding

The year was 1974 and the Rev. Moon was expanding his Unification Church in the United States. Moon, who is from South Korea, was a wealthy but controversial figure accused of brainwashing young people to support his religious organization by selling flowers among other items.

Catherine —the second youngest child and closest in nature to Greene— had joined the Unification Church and gone to a camp called New Ideal City Ranch, outside Boonville in Mendocino County. When she finally called her family, Greene says she had changed.

“It sounded like her loyalties were being split,” he says. “She sounded torn up.”

Greene traveled to the Boonville camp a few days later to confront Catherine, but it was difficult; she was surrounded by Moonies at all times. A church leader invited Greene to return the following weekend for a training session.

Greene drove home, still depressed and, he recalls, even suicidal because of a difficult relationship with his father. He decided to hear Moon speak in person at the San Francisco Opera House. Greene recalls that Moon sounded Hitler-like, “but there was a calmness afterward, and that appealed to me.”

Greene went to the training camp with two friends, but he says they were separated and escorted everywhere —including the bathroom— by at least one church member, a process he says the Moonies called love bombing. Joined by new recruits from all over the Bay Area, he attended a group session at which he explained that he’d come to rescue his sister. But then everyone turned toward him and began singing about how much they loved him.

“Holding hands and singing with 200 people felt really good to me,” he recalls. “My programming had begun.”

Greene’s friends left the camp after the weekend, but he stayed behind to listen to lectures, singing groups and discussions about personal experiences. Although images of Hitler Youth kept popping into his mind, he says church leaders poured on the love when he confronted them about the program —a strategy that helped reinforce the power structure and created self-doubt. After all, says Greene bluntly, “You’re being an a--hole to someone who’s being nice to you.”

Still unable to fully believe what he was being told —that Moon was the second coming of Christ— Greene went to a nearby creek to pray. But later that afternoon, Greene says he received an affirmation from God.

Faith begins wavering

Greene moved back to the Bay Area to live in Unification Church dorm houses in Berkeley and San Francisco, where members were expected to share toothbrushes stored in a bucket and hand over the keys to their cars. He took a job at a church-owned gas station on Market Street and, when his faith wavered, he returned to the ranch for re-education.

The re-education periods reinforced a belief that anyone against the church was Satan, he says, but it also gave him some perspective on what was happening. He remembers seeing new recruits arrive with doubts but eventually snapping under the pressure, turning their minds over to the church. It provided him with a guilty pleasure that they, too, had been unable to resist.

“That bothered me a lot,” he recalls.

It took Greene three attempts to leave the church before he was successful. In July 1975, he drove his BMW back to his parents’ house in Ross and began working with his mother, who was an outspoken critic of the Unification Church and supporter of deprogramming.

“She was a one-woman clearinghouse,” he says.

▲ Daphne Greene

Testifying before Senate

At the request of his godfather, he testified about cults at a U.S. Senate subcommittee in 1976. On that day, he says, about 50 Unification members —wearing matching blue suits with red flowers in the lapels— walked into the Senate chambers to listen.

“It was hairy,” he says.

Greene says he never worked with a deprogrammer. Using therapy, he deprogrammed himself. “It was an experience that hurt me but I was able to overcome,” he says.

Throughout his time in the Unification Church, Greene says he rarely saw Catherine. While he was working at the church-owned gas station, he says the church put her youthful good looks to work as part of a team that traveled the country raising money and bringing in new recruits.

“She could make a $1,000 a day selling flowers,” he says.

From 1976 to ’78, Greene says he deprogrammed Moonies, including the Prince of Tahiti with the cooperation of the royal family. He was even mentioned in journalist Josh Freed’s book “Moonwebs.”

One of his biggest failures, however, was an attempt to deprogram his own sister.

Greene set up a plan, using his mother as bait, to capture Catherine. Handcuffed and blindfolded, Catherine was taken by family members to a boarded-up house in Lucas Valley. But deprogramming his own sister proved harder than deprogramming strangers, with whom he could be tougher, he says.

He eventually let Catherine go after she intentionally cut her hand and had to be hospitalized. By then, Moonies were picketing his father’s law office in San Francisco and pressing the Marin County District Attorney to file kidnapping charges against the family.

No charges were ever brought against the family, but Catherine returned to the church and filed a $5.2 million lawsuit against Greene, his parents and others who helped with the abduction.

“It was horrible,” he says. “The experience is that they’re dead but you can’t put them in the ground.”

In 1977, Greene says he was hired by Colorado authorities to kidnap and deprogram a man who tried to sign over the family farm to the Unification Church. Greene worked with police officers and private investigators, but was arrested and prosecuted for kidnapping after the man ran away and returned to the church. He successfully fought the kidnapping charge because he was acting under a court order.

Off to law school

Although he never earned a bachelor’s degree, Greene was enrolled in the New College of California Law School in 1978. During that time he started getting death threats, but he was determined to go after Moon.

“This man is no different than Adolf Hitler and, as an American, I had to do something,” he says. “To play in that arena, you had to be a lawyer and I went to law school.”

After passing the California State Bar exam, Greene worked as a criminal defense attorney with San Anselmo attorney Carl Shapiro, who had developed a reputation for working with families to reclaim family members who joined cults.

With Shapiro’s help, Greene argued and won a case in 1988 before the California Supreme Court that opened the door for former Moonies to sue the Unification Church for damages and, he says, “put cult-busting on the legal map.”

In 1989, Greene says he sued the Church of Scientology on behalf of the church’s head of worldwide security and his wife. In 2002, Greene celebrated his biggest victory against Scientology, when he and two other lawyers received an $8.7 million judgment in another case.

For Greene, religious organizations must be held accountable for any socially destructive conduct that exploits the best in people. “In my book there isn’t anything worse than that,” he says.

But Scientologists say Greene’s crusade against them isn’t very effective.

One-man campaign

Quiros, of the church’s San Francisco branch, likens Greene to someone shooting Scientologists in the back with a BB gun. Greene may be a hassle, Quiros says, but he represents nothing in the grand scheme of things for an organization that has 8 million members worldwide.

“This is a one-man campaign to discredit the fastest-growing church in the world,” Quiros says.

Quiros likes to direct people to a web site — www.friendsofsananselmo.org — that seeks to discredit Greene. Posted on the site are Greene’s run-ins with the law, ranging from shoplifting to kidnapping to stalking, along with a host of other critiques.

According to internic.net, an Internet domain name information site, www.friendsofsananselmo.org is registered to Allen Long at a private postal box at 10 Liberty Ship Way in Sausalito. Long did not answer requests for an interview sent via e-mail or in a note left at the postal box.

Web site counterattack

Quiros says Scientology has nothing to do with the web site, although he appreciates what it brings to light. “That is a great summary of Ford Greene,” he says. “He’s a nut case. I’m trying to think of a better word but there isn’t one.”

Greene eagerly and openly explains every claim on the web site. He says he was guilty of shoplifting a set of sheets in college, pleaded guilty to trespassing over a dispute with a former girlfriend he handled poorly, was never charged with burglary or stalking, and a driving under the influence conviction listed on the web site is actually his father’s.

“It’s all a big smear,” he says.

▲ The mass wedding of 1,275 couples in Korea, January 1989.

Reached at a Unification Church site, Catherine —who was married during a mass wedding of 1,275 couples and is now Catherine Ono— says although Greene may continue thinking she’s brainwashed and not in control of her mind, she still cares for her brother. “To me it’s like, come on,” she says. “That’s old.”

Ono, who remains a Unification Church member, lives in Somerville, Mass., with her husband and their two daughters. The couple will celebrate their 16th wedding anniversary next week.

Ono says she didn’t see her family between 1977 and ’83 because she feared they would try to kidnap her again. She says she began seeing them again after Greene and her parents apologized —a claim Greene disputes— and visited Greene with her daughters last August.

“The aftermath was pretty devastating,” she says. “They realized they had betrayed my trust.”

But Greene says the entire family rarely speaks with Ono anymore and that he never apologized for the kidnapping, and his mother didn’t either. “Catherine may be nice, but she makes me sick,” he says with a laugh.

Although he says it was good to see her last summer, he can’t relate to her because her entire world view is defined by Moon’s ideology.

“Catherine thinks I’m Satanic at the core,” he says.

In his San Anselmo office, Greene has created a Scientology war room lined with volumes of books, stacks of promotional and instructional videos and an enormous flow chart that illustrates the command structure of Scientology. Asked whether he is just going after Scientology’s money, Greene makes no qualms about it. “I have every intention of trying,” he says.

Even though he was once a devoted member of an organization he calls a cult, Greene says he isn’t worried about surrounding himself with information about Scientology and other organizations he targets.

“I’m confident in my instincts and I trust them,” he says.

Ford Greene is featured in the book Moonwebs

The book was made into the movie, Ticket to Heaven

Suppose the Family Federation for World Peace and Unification were to take over the whole world?

Hak Ja Han’s Cheon Il Guk Constitution is troubling

“Ancestor Liberation must be done” Hak Ja Han 2015

Hak Ja Han and Sun Myung Moon and the United Nations

Moon’s ultimate truth is … absolute obedience

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ford_Greene

[quartusbellum-blog]

SARA for the role of REGULUS BLACK using the faceclaim NICOLE MAINES. 

I am very excited about your portrayal of this character! Not only have you given life to the plots hinted at in the skeleton, but you’ve threaded new layers of meaning into Regulus’ story. I can’t wait to see them explored on the dash! 

ooc details

Name: Sara

Age: im a fandom grandparent

Pronouns: they/them

Activity Level: I’m around every day and enjoy making a mess of things in game

Other: No triggers though my character might end up triggering others. I’ll make sure to tag.

Acknowledgement: I acknowledge that the themes of this game may include triggering elements. I also acknowledge that my character may be harmed, coerced, or even killed (with player’s consent) during paras/events or may cause harm to or kill others during paras/events. Yep here4themess

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general ic details

Name: Regulus Arcturus Black

Age: 19 | January 23rd

Ships: Regulus is rather aromantic in manner so a romantic is unlikely. Even still, I’d be happy to try any ships, any nonromantic ships etc.  Warning: please read the whole app prior to seeking a ship with Regulus given that any sort of romantic/nonromantic/sexual ship might contain triggering experiences.

TBH my dream ships are probably more found family/family oriented… polyamorous with an asexual asshole who is a little skew?

Gender/Pronouns: publicly Regulus is still he/him but there will be a blending and fucking up of pronouns as Regulus explores and comprehends her gender (likely ultimate ending but nonbinary is also possible). This is different then how i sometimes write trans characters because in this game one aspect of her narrative will be the concept of growing up and understanding she can be who she wants to be. Even if Regulus knew from a young age (which not all trans people do), Regulus would have innately rejected the idea because of the pride his mother has(d) in having the two heirs at a cost. This became even more pressing when Sirius left his role as heir and it landed to Regulus–suddenly Regulus’ choices shrank even more. Its only in death that she has started to comprehend that there are choices now.

So pronouns will be flying ALL THE WAYS but mostly reflecting how the character is presenting EXTERNALLY to others. FC will remain static but may not be used all the time due to the lack of stable presentation.

For this app He/Him were used exclusively as up until perhaps the past year Regulus presented exclusively as he/him.

Headcanon for transitioning Attisgalli Corrective Draught.

Face Claim: please provide two face claim options.

Nicole Maines

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bio questions

Please note, while this game is “canon” up until the start of the Wizarding War it does not stay canon and it’s quite divergent at the start of the game.

biography:

The Black Family is too old of a family line not to have gotten… muddled (never muddied) in the past. It shows on the family tree in little notations (a dark red swirl like an ink blot on their shoulder for vampire) or in burn-marks where a person used to be (for scum of the earth traitor). Sometimes, Regulus’ mother sniffed when explaining this, certain family members couldn’t do what needed to be done.

A little pruning never hurt anyone–not any more then a little cultivating did.

Regulus and Sirius Black might have been half brothers but that was simply the most prudent action their parents could take to make absolutely certain the bloodline continued. Sure, children that shared both parents blood would have been ideal but with Druella only providing girls and Orion not providing any… Walburga Black was always very good at problem solving. Perhaps the only problem she failed to solve was her eldest son Sirius–or maybe she almost fixed it with Regulus.

If Sirius Black was loud and brash and bright–Regulus was the opposite. He was a late talker and when he did start talking it was almost always a last mumbled as a last resort. It wasn’t that Regulus wasn’t intelligent but that he struggled to organize his thoughts and provide them to others–something that continued through childhood, through Hogwarts, and beyond. He preferred chess and finding patterns within potions, charms, and even Quidditch to social obligations.

Prone to being misunderstood when he did attempt to make friends (he wasn’t threatening that girl, he was warning her so she wouldn’t be hurt), Regulus over values any and all friends or family he has. As such, any disowning, death, or friendship breakup has been taken incredibly personally. Its no excuse, and Regulus knows that now more then ever, but the need for connection and purpose helped drive his passion for Voldemort. Regulus believed in what Voldemort was fighting, becoming a Death Eater would provide a structure that Regulus knew he would need outside of Hogwarts while learning how to manage the Black family vaults and investments, and there was a social aspect, too.

For all that Regulus was good at strategy and understanding how seemingly fragmented pieces of information fit together: he was too slow to understand what Voldemort’s real goals were and what they ultimately meant for his family (and the wizarding world, but his family, of course, was paramount). Regulus Black never woke up one day and started believing muggleborns were ‘okay’ or that his innate belief system was wrong. He woke up one day and realized that the few people he cared about were in danger in a way they did not, could not, understand.

The vampire blood was easy to get, although he hardly thought it would work. He had long since been in the habit of visiting Narcissa and feeding the prisoner James Potter. Adding a fail safe into James’ layers of memory charms was not easy but necessary. Most likely, even with the blood, even with over a month of planning, Regulus was certain he was going to die.

Which he did. It just didn’t stick.

It’s been almost a year since then and Regulus isn’t sure if it was the potion, the vampire blood, the way he died, or if he’s finally just turning into his mother’s child in ways he never wanted to–but Regulus Black can’t seem to get a grip on his emotions, or his tongue, the way he used to. In some ways, though, its a relief–like finally being able to peel off an ill-fitting skin for something new.

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my character is:

Please Provide the Following

A Belief that is Wrong

Please Describe a Belief your character has that is wrong. It can be something we, as players, know is wrong (ex. prejudice against werewolves ).  Alternatively: How is your character lying to themselves (and how is is it shown externally).

Regulus has always had something about organization and if he thinks about it too much even he would have to acknowledge that it’s a lie. But Regulus generally doesn’t pay that much attention to the reality surrounding these habits, only the relief it brings him. His clothes are always pressed–even in his closet of a space with the Radical Alliance. The robes are cleaned, and charmed pressed, and hunt up in a very specific order. His bed is exactly one inch from the left wall. The trunk he keeps things in is under the bed and must not touch any of the posts or the wall. He keeps things perfectly separated inside the trunk. He counted the flur de lis on the carpet between his and Sirius’ bedrooms over and over and over again as a child. He can tell anyone how many panes of glass are in the windows at Hogwarts and even differentiate between wings of the castle. These habits (because, of course, that’s all they are, all they will ever be) didn’t start out so all encompassing but as Regulus grew up, as life became more complicated, choices too limited, finding ways to control it (even illogical ones) seemed to be the only answer.

If things are clean enough. If things are the right number. If he stops counting at the right moment, if he taps the right pattern : everything will be fine. There’s arithmancy in everything, he tells himself, because life has always been more bearable when he believes it to be true.

Job

Is Regulus Black Doing Anything? He isn’t sure, really. Certainly he doesn’t have a job–he’s never worked a traditional job a day in his life! He’s no longer a Death Eater. Can he continue to look after his family’s finances if he is, in a sense, dead?

Does he want to be alive? –Regulus wonders this sometimes, believing it not to be any sort of suicidal ideation but a simple, obvious question. Should he be alive? The answer is no.

Does he want to be–he doesn’t know.

As far as anyone knows (particularly Remus but also Marcus and Narcissa), Regulus Black has no job and is doing nothing but trying to pour his scrambled eggs of brain and impulse control back into some semblance of viability. Underneath that, Regulus Black is trying to pour his scrambled eggs of brain and impulse control back into some semblance of viability…and remember just what his next steps were supposed to be regarding the horcrux.

ooc questions

Writing Sample:

He’s at the stairs. Not the grand stars at the front of the house that fork and twist along the side of the foyer–but the back stairs. Servants stairs his mother would hiss if she saw them except none of their family have ever employed household staff.

House elves are bad enough, his mother says in his ear and Regulus jerks, expecting to feel her breath on his cheek but–nothing. Its nothing.

“I’ve food for the prisoner.” He says but its pointless because no one is listening. No one has been listening since Peter Pettigrew. Since Dumbledore. Since James. It is a mistake but they haven’t realized it yet.

He’s stood too long, frozen above the narrow staircase with a silver tray. Someone will see you–the thought hisses through his mind and Regulus knows, suddenly, with a clarity he’s been lacking: its not real. It’s not a part of this. A dream? The idea s fleeting and wilts under a brush of light as the curtains behind him are pulled open.

“Then go ahead, darling.” Narcissa says.  

The memory jerks, skitters, speeds up.

“I’ve food for the prisoner.” He says. “I’ve food for–”

Regulus is down stairs and the food is gone, shoved to the side. The lip of the tray is pressed into his ankle but Regulus ignores it because–James.

“Listen to me,” Regulus is saying. It’s strange, like none of this is real because he can’t feel any of it. The words fall from his mouth because where is his tongue? His wand is tight in his left hand, the swirls carved into its handle cutting into his palm. He should smell blood, he thinks.  

There’s nothing, though. The room is bleary with weak autumn light from a small window about ten feet above them. There’s a bed but James isn’t allowed to use it. He’s on the floor. Regulus is on the floor. No, he’s straddling James–James can’t move during this or else–or else.

James tenses under him and Regulus grabs a fist full of James’ fraying robes. “This is serious.” The robes are too tattered to bruise when Regulus’ jerks them. He can’t strangle James (and wouldn’t even if it would be a mercy)

“Why should I?” James, the fucker–it had been a month and he still had that smirk except there’s blood at the corner and this time (not the first time) Regulus can feel his stomach growl at the sight of it.

“It’s important.” Regulus has his wand pressed at James’ temple and his mouth brushes James’ cheek when he leans in to whisper. “You’ll thank me later.”

Regulus Black has never been good at mind magic.

When Regulus wakes up, he tastes salt water and bile.

Exploration:

Please share three things you’d like to explore. This could be a character changing sides, darker themes, or basic fiction tropes.

Family Lines: I think this game provides a particularly interesting set of circumstances regarding possible family lines. First there’s Narcissa and her condition–how did that happen? Possibly Regulus, trying to manage his life post cave and fucking up again ( or maybe it was a blessing?) I like to headcanon that maybe Alphard was a vampire and thats where the blood came from (open to other options). Speaking of, how has Walburga doing? And then there’s, of course, Sirius and all the brother’s baggage which is made even more complicated as (if this set up is accepted) Regulus sort of used Sirius’ best friend as a last will and testament–not that James remembers it yet. Last, … does Regulus even count as a live anymore and if not who has inherited ?

A Family Curse: The Black family has never exactly been known for its cool head and steady hands but Regulus, for all his somewhat muffled anxieties, has mostly stood out as awkward but not particularly memorable. In fact, it’s safe to say without his last name (and grades) Regulus probably wouldn’t have gotten much notice at all. That has largely changed now, although Regulus has trouble pin pointing why and how. There are a lot of factors, many of which no one else knows, and Regulus should care about that. He should be highly concerned–but those concerns evaporate before he can even generate a game plan to consider addressing it. Most seem to assume that its just Regulus taking after his mother. TLDR I’m interested in seeing what information he drops (likely not entirely clearly) without thinking it through and how the changes in demeanor and method impact both those who grew up with Regulus Black and those who didn’t. Don’t worry about wangst, I’m much more interested in throwing weird or intense tings at others then have Regulus mope.

Choices mixed in with all of that, Regulus has found himself well and truly on his own about making choices for the first time in his life. Sure, Remus might have ideas on what he should do, and Sirius, and Marcus, and Narcissa—but all of them have different goals, different expectations of what Regulus could do and in the end, Regulus doesn’t have to do anything. At the onset the only thing he does know is that he must do something about the horcrux…but how? When, where, and why? I want to see how different interactions with various characters might influence those choices and how Regulus handles managing his own reigns ow for better or for worse.

Gender: its so easy to boil gender and trans experience into one narrative but so often things are far…messier then that. Regulus is a character who hasn’t felt the ability to think overly hard (or pursue if he has thought of it) alternatives to gender even if the Wix Community at large is accepting (people turn into frogs, after all). This game provides a unique chance to explore gender through the lense of a character who is learning and failing and not overly confident (or overly feminine) but genuine in that (at least) if nothing else. Also, does being a vampire effect Attisgalli Corrective Draught?

Extras:

Anything else you’d like to provide?

[eclecticpatrolsweets]

Fog strange talk Season 3 ——Jinjiang City 2020 Top4

preface The high temperature swept through the city, and there were mandarin ducks migrating to a warm place to nest and settle down. One fell from the high temperature and was dying on the concrete ground, while the other opened its wings to block the hot sun for his partner. The male bird struggled and died soon, and the long journey was a dream. Yuanyang affectionate kind, and the city shou people.

TOP4

"I'll give you anything if you don't hurt me. I just need you to stop coming to my place to replace my computer, cell phone and relatives. You know, things are expensive and I don't have much income. Although there are many relatives, you must be glorious to kill them, you are the law, I will praise you, this is my lowest use and value. Many good wishes for you.

I know what I have done is not enough, please do not bind me, I will give you all my research, my future research will also give you, just need your generosity, I will be very good, very obedient, do not bind me. These can make you happier, and money is you, you take it, are you, come back, because I can't become a person of low, I am your faithful servant, your slave, you can't hurt your slaves, you are the police, is the law, is the emperor, is everything, I naturally is low, if you put on clothes, you can be proud of you is light, all my money is not mine, It is your master's, and I am praising you."Sam's arms were tied to the bed, he could not move, he was like a lamb about to be eaten, he had no choice in his fate.

He begged the murderer to forgive him for his SINS, and it would be a good thing to die with a little dignity or comfort, rather than being tied to a bed and slaughtered.

He begged the murderer to forgive him for his SINS, and it would be a good thing to die with a little dignity or comfort, rather than being tied to a bed and slaughtered.

In the gloomy basement, after pouring himself a glass of wine and settling comfortably on the sofa, he said to the owner of the house, "I was kidnapped some time ago."

Master Q warped two legs: "who dare to kidnap you?"

"I don't know who it was, they broke into my house, my servant to kill, and then I kidnap to the funny farm, when they take the two cans of my blood, I will get free, but the servant was made into sausage is put in the refrigerator, do you know pork sausage is more delicious, I can think of blood and meat products, in addition to the vampire and following ghouls, no others."

"Everything has a reason."

"Servants are annoying, but kidnappers who burst into the house... I can't think of a reason for it."

"You were kidnapped and taken to a lunatic asylum?"

"It was more hidden there, and when I came out the next day, I found the contents of my bag had been disturbed."

"What is it?

"The charging cable was broken and the phone must have been tampered with."

Q gasped and said, "They know the code. They know everything."

"It should be a leak, don't think too good. I contacted my brother and asked him to call the mayor immediately to stop this terrible act, but he did nothing, and I was very sad. The feeling of loneliness and helplessness is debilitating when so many people are gone."

Q looked at his glass and asked, "Can you drink that much wine?"

"Do you want it?"

Q nodded, took a cup from her hand, took a sip, and said, "Tell me about that night."

"It was weird, the big guys tied me to the bed and left. After a while a young doctor came in and their premise was that I was mentally ill, but if I didn't answer their questions, I would be tortured by them."

Sheng took off his coat and said, "Look, the needle is not clean. Inexplicable things are growing on my face, neck and chest. They are murdering me."

"Murder is not a crime. You are killed before there is a police investigation, but you have been kidnapped and taken to a lunatic asylum. When you die, the law becomes useless and nobody cares about your body."

"Their scheme worked."

"Back to the last topic, what questions did they ask?"

"The questions they ask are of no value. Where was I? Where did I go? How much money I made."

"I see. They want to put you off to a lunatic asylum, and as long as you're there, you're a lunatic, and that gives you no credibility."

"Rightness! Isn't little Bear dead? They are all murderers."

"Hyakawa has been gone for many years. It's time for you to start a new life. As things stand, the future is not so rosy."

"I wanted to see you about something this time." Sheng takes the empty glass from Q's hand and pours another glass.

"But there's no harm in saying it."

"My kidnapper won't just let it go, please provide 700 million."

"What a ransom!

'More!

After listening to the ransom terms, Q couldn't help saying, "Let's just fight."

"No war, because we want to enjoy the good life that peace brings."

"Let's go upstairs and look at the night sky."

Sheng and Q lay on the bed with the cool breeze coming slowly around them. Q sighed and said, "You can't call the police on this matter. The amount is huge and you will be shot."

"What about the things that grow on me?"

"They're killing you systematically. Take some medicine. You haven't used antibiotics in over 20 years.

"Well, according to you, there are vampires on this mountain."

"When they meet you, the god of the sun, they will leave far away. Tomorrow you go back through the tunnel, and you have a group of policemen coming down from your building. It's not a good thing.

In this silent night, I began insomnia, like adolescence, miss a certain person, miss love, tonight's moon empty did not see the moon, MY eternal yearning, my eternal youth, eternal memory, deep in the bottom of my heart, after sleepiness, I have a dream about love.