#chapter 1 land of peace and purity

[daily-nikki]

Ch. 1, Pt. 7 | Return to Purity

After finishing Ch.1, Pt. 6 [Purify the buds at the Brewing Workshop], Nikki has Purified all of the buds and it's time for her to wake up the Heart of Spring.

This is the last quest in the Chapter 1 questline.

To track your progress and gain more rewards for completing the new main story quest line, you can use the new event page.

This post contains spoilers, pictures, commentary, and dialogue.

Nikki and Momo have found all of the buds and now she's on her way to the middle of Serenity Island in order to awaken the Heart of Spring.

Once Nikki reaches the top of the stonetree, she is greeted by Granny Bubbles, Terra, and Bootsie.

⋯⋯ Dialogue ⋯⋯

Terra: Nikki, y-you should be village head! The Heart of Spring's water is replensishing!

Nikki: That's great! Oh... By the way, Terra, the Rinse-Free Rebels...

Terra: Don't worry, Murmur already told me. Fortunately, thank to your help, those Pieceys are cooperating now.

Tiny Treads Bootsie: I can't believe that Murmur had such a big secret and didn't tell me...

Nikki: I think it's just that Murmur didn't want to burden you...

Tiny Treads Bootsie: I know! I'm not angry with Murmur. I just feel bad for her. She's always helping everyone, but rarely shares her own feelings. She carries her burdens on her own...

Terra: Ugh, as elders, this is our fault. Back in the day, we were too hard on that silly little Piecey. it must have left a psychological scar!

Terra: And now that she finally found other Pieceys to relate to... of course she'd want to help them too. It makes perfect sense.

Granny Bubbles: But, after all, those things are just hallucinations caused by shock. Silly Murmur, so stubborn...

↪ Speak for Murmur

Nikki: Murmur did tell me a lot about the visions she saw. I understand. It's hard for her to willingly forget...

Granny Bubbles: You're not from around here, so whatever your thoughts are about it, it doesn't hurt me. But for Murmur, as a native of Serenity Island... for her to claim this isn't our home... Oof...

Nikki: Does Murmur think that Serenity Island isn't home to you all?

Terra: Murmur used to say that the places she saw in those visions were different from Serenity Island. No Bubbleblooms, no Rainbow Seals.

Tiny Treads Bootsie: Murmur would just hold that whistle and stare blankly at the Guardian's words: "Serenity Island... home."

Nikki: Having conflicting thoughts to her entire community... that feeling must be really tough.

Terra: Alright! Alright! The Heart of Spring restorations is great news, and the Rinse-Free Rebels' situation is resolved. No need to be so down.

Nikki: Bootsie, haven't you been wanting to take the Bubbly Tales Club to Steamville? Now we can set off right away!

Tiny Treads Bootsie: Yeah!

Terra: Granny Bubbles, the Bathing Bliss Festival you love is just around the corner. What are you looking forward to?

Granny Bubbles: Haha, I bet you're looking forward to showing off your skills!

Terra: Hehe, yeah... Being Bubble Ambassador for this Bathing Bliss Festival was something I worked so hard to snatch from Macy. How could I not look forward to it? But...

Terra: Nikki, I have a favor to ask... If you agree, I'd be happy to pass on this title to you!

Nikki: Terra? Please, go ahead?

Terra: Ahem... The bud contamination issue has been resolved, but the Dirty Thread Disease resurfaced overnight, and we still haven't pinpointed the source. I can't rest east knowing it's still a threat.

Terra: Thankfully, you're here now. Maybe it's the blessing of The Silvergale or the guidance of the Guardian. Either way, having someone with purification abilities like you is exactly what we need.

Terra: Can I ask for your help... by investigating the source of the contamination?

↪ Of course!

Nikki: Of course! For the sake of everyone in Soakville, we'll find the source of the contamination and put an end to this disease once and for all!

Momo: It's my duty as "Bubble Ambassador!"

Nikki: But... I do have a small favor to ask. Could you keep an eye out for that Puppy Piecey? I need to return his bell.

Terra: No problem! I'll make sure to search all over Soakville for you!

Terra: I've been thinking about the contamination source. Our village doesn't seem to have any clues, so we'll have to trouble you to go to Steamville. Their village head, Macy, might know something.

Nikki: The Heart of Spring... is ready!

Granny Bubbles: Nikki, go wake it up! Follow this path, and you'll reach Steamville. The Silvergale... will protect you!

Nikki needs to use her new ability outfit to awaken the Heart of Spring which then shoots out a massive jet of water that takes her to Steamville.

This is where Chapter 1 ends and the beginning of Chapter 2 starts.

Make sure to grab the rewards from the splash page!

[ffxvficrec]

by PlayTimeTheCoyote War has come to Eos once again, the times of peace are over, all because of a mad man, a waromonger, a self-proclaiemd god with grand ambitons to build a new world in his imamge purity. The throne calls to Legosi Ardyn Luci's Caelum, son of the 120th King of Lucis, King Miyagi Lucis Caleum and Queen Leano Posundruesof the Kingdom of Lucis, the power of the Kings of Yore, Legosi's ancestors stirs windly inside him. However new challenges await for the young Prince of Lucis, friends and allies, something divine is approching the world of Eos once again thanks to the prayers of the beasts of Eos, the oracle, Solani Nox Fluerent of the Kingdom of Tenabre will hear the call of the gods itself for magic never truly bansihed from the world of Eos. The fates of Legosi Ardyn Lucis Cealum and Melon De La Fruit keep interwining as the two hybrids are the key to a brighre future that awaits the land of Eos, their roles eeringly parrael to Noctis Lucis Caelum and Ardyn Lucis Caelum. Legosi is the key to that future, Melon is the key to Legosi's succes. Deshico must not provail in securing the world the future that he envisions. Words: 1821, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Beastars Fantasy XV Verse Fandoms: Final Fantasy XV , ビースターズ | BEASTARS Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence , Major Character Death Categories: F/F , F/M , M/M Characters: Legosi (BEASTARS) , Louis (BEASTARS) , Haru (BEASTARS) , Room 701 Residents (BEASTARS) , Drama Club (BEASTARS) , Melon (BEASTARS) , Gouhin (BEASTARS) , Yafya | Yahya (BEASTARS) , Miyagi (BEASTARS) , Leano (BEASTARS) , Toki (BEASTARS) , Gosha (BEASTARS) , The Dokugumi (BEASTARS) , The Shishigumi (BEASTARS) , The Inarigumi (BEASTARS) , The Madaragumi (BEASTARS) , Deshico (BEASTARS) , Original Characters , Gentiana (Final Fantasy XV) , Astrals (Final Fantasy XV) , Umbra (Final Fantasy XV) , The Kingsglaive (Final Fantasy XV) , Kings of Lucis Relationships: Haru/Legosi/Louis (BEASTARS) , Bill/Jack (BEASTARS) , Gosha/Toki (BEASTARS) , Leano/Miyagi (BEASTARS) , Juno/Sheila (BEASTARS) , Peach/Sheila (BEASTARS) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy , Fantasy , Science Fiction & Fantasy , Magic , Blood and Violence , Violence , Action & Romance , Sexual Tension , Sad and Happy , Character Death , Bisexual Legosi (BEASTARS) , Nervous Legosi (BEASTARS) , Anxious Legosi (BEASTARS) , Parallels

[bookoformon]

Mormon Chapter 1, Part 2. "The Impeachment."

The first part of Mormon states the loss of innocence must happen we all know this but at the same time, all ignorance must also come to and. Once puberty begins and the body and mind prepare to finish growing this is when instruction in religion, civics, science, and citizenship make their greatest impact.

The Book of Mormon states citizenship forbids the minting and use of weapons, discrimination against the poor, against Jews, corruption in the governmnet, and the end of oppression.

Still problems are going crop up, as in the following passages. A war starts along the banks of the Sidon River in Lebanon, "The River of Death in the Land of Purity."

8 And it came to pass in this year there began to be a war between the Nephites, who consisted of the Nephites and the Jacobites and the Josephites and the Zoramites; and this war was between the Nephites, and the Lamanites and the Lemuelites and the Ishmaelites.

9 Now the Lamanites and the Lemuelites and the Ishmaelites were called Lamanites, and the two parties were Nephites and Lamanites.

10 And it came to pass that the war began to be among them in the borders of Zarahemla, by the waters of Sidon.

11 And it came to pass that the Nephites had gathered together a great number of men, even to exceed the number of thirty thousand. And it came to pass that they did have in this same year a number of battles, in which the Nephites did beat the Lamanites and did slay many of them.

12 And it came to pass that the Lamanites withdrew their design, and there was peace settled in the land; and peace did remain for the space of about four years, that there was no bloodshed.

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 8: a War between the Wise and the Ignorant. The Value in Gematria is 12872, יבחזב‎ , yevhezv, "the dare of the stonecutter."

v. 9: Now the Lamanites and the Lemuelites and the Ishmaelites were called Lamanites, and the two parties were Nephites and Lamanites. The Value in Gematria is 7106, ז‎אאֶפֶסו‎, zaapeso, "to rage against the times."

v. 10: And it came to pass that the war began to be among them in the borders of Zarahemla, by the waters of Sidon.The Value in Gematria is 5485, הדחה‎ ‎, impeachment.

v. 11: The Nephites gathered a great number of men. The Value in Gematria is 8743, חזדג‎ ‎‎ ‎chazdag, "as mating",

The process whereby a man and woman meet, become acquainted with each other and decide whether they are suitable for each other, is not only common sense — it's actually mandated by Jewish law. The Talmud stipulates that it is forbidden for a man to marry a woman until he meets her and she finds favor in his eyes, and a woman is not to be married until she is mature enough to make an intelligent decision with regards to her proposed husband. The prospective bride and groom must meet beforehand and both must be fully comfortable with each other and must give their full consent to the match.

That said, according to Jewish tradition, dating plays a very specific role. Dating is viewed as a serious matter and is not intended for entertainment purposes. Dating is reserved for mature men and women who have reached marriageable age and are actively seeking their life mate.

The restrictions on dating do not stem from old-fashioned prudishness. Rather they are a key ingredient in the creation of stable marriages between compatible spouses.

v. 12: The Lamanites withdrew their designs. The Value in Gematria is 9175, ה‎טאז‎ ‎thaz, ‎"the fierce, going to the wrong direction."

The verb תעה (ta'a) means to wander about and is used to describe the unsteady gait of drunkards (Job 12:25, Isaiah 28:7), of sheep or cattle without a herder (Exodus 23:4, Jeremiah 50:6), of homeless people (Genesis 21:14), and of foolish people (Ezekiel 44:10).

It marks a lack of direction or objective and emphasizes the uselessness of the effort of going somewhere while in fact one is going nowhere at all. The noun תועה (to'a) means a wandering or straying from a certain path; a confusion or an error (Isaiah 32:6 and Nehemiah 4:2 only).

Obviously the wise do not want much to do with the ignorant and it is best to run them out of town and do whatever it takes to keep their numbers from mounting. A lesson we need to learn in America.

When the oppressors outnumber the oppressed or hog all the electricity, water, food, airwaves, etc. then we get into trouble as we did during the previous world wars by failing to pay attention.

Donald Trump is ineligible to hold office. His party is treasonous, it has committed numerous civil rights violations as have its politicians and allies and there must be a final solution, a final separation from real normal human beings and these abominations who are open about their plans to tyrannize the rest of us.

There must be an impeachment, we are just not compatible with these people. They have demonstrated not one compunction against causing pain and suffering for others, where legally allowed I think the same thing should be done to them.

[soulntes]

I SEE YOU - PROLOGUE

[I SEE YOU MASTERLIST] CHAPTER 1 : MA'ITAN

the great mother holds a lot of wonder in the life of pandora. her nature brings life to what's around the people. when a life is borrowed, we give back at the time it's finally to let go. there was no worry of their home destroyed, feeling betrayed, and enjoy their whole lives ahead of them. homes of the many species inhabiting every surface of the planet.

purity and innocence.

home of the na'vis.

their day to day lives without a disturbance of losing what they've known their whole lives until.. a big star in the sky caught the curiosity by one of the chief's daughters, it became bigger and bigger until it landed near their home

a new found curiosity showed what the na'vi never knew would haunt them for years to come.. the na'vi's lives were about to change, it was their last peace of their lives when the sky people brought their offerings in hopes of getting something in return.

the omatikaya wanted to teach their ways to the humans and show them what they see through their eyes of the forest. value and

.....but....

it changed for the better or worse. the incident of grace's school all three sisters who were present of that unfortunate day, troopers ceased fire through the school causing those bullets firing one of the chief's and tsahik's daughters.

the death of the eldest, sylwanin.

the chief and tribe decided to ban humans and dream walkers from getting near their village and a single sighting of them near their territory to negotiate or take something within their knowledge.. they will be killed on the spot.

that altered at jake sully's arrival on pandora.

a sign from eywa.

toruk makto.

the last shadow.

up to the events they reclaimed their home and sent the sky people back to where they came from because their terrorizing years brought war and killing.

only a few were chosen to stay, loyal to the na'vi.

as for the youngest of the three daughters, lost everything. her father and her home, left in despair and a great rage of anger and hatred towards the sky people and their evil technology. a warrior who fought for her home everyday alongside her older sister, neytiri, their hatred for these demons had become their motivation to protect what they love.

the woman warrior without a mate or child, in the brink of giving up after the loss of their home and her father..

the lonely na'vi woman seeks out a purpose before giving up.

in her life she felt different from her sister and her people.

something that makes her unique and mysterious in her people's eyes since she was a lonesome young lady. not a care about finding a mate or have a child of her own. expressing herself strangely from the other women in the clan.

her prayers were heard by the great mother. what may seem a few of the seeds from the sacred tree led her to the place she least wanted to visit.

the lab where a few humans stayed, the seed slowly and gracefully shows her way what is waiting for her to discover.

a window with vibrant white and blue lights shining through the glass, she peaks where the seed stayed in place for her to see.

before she saw, a baby cry heard through the walls of the lab startled her to take cover before she was discovered. the seed appears to wait patiently for her to see what it wanted her to see.. hoping it's something that'll help her continue the life she was given and put her rage to rest.

upon the see through window, laying in a tiny bed is the sign from the great mother.

a small human baby

a beautiful baby boy.

his small wailing and tantrum filled the ears of the young na'vi woman. the pure souls leading to him, she found what she was looking for.

a tear slips her hard exterior when laying her eyes on the small, fragile boy weeping and her tail flickers side to side excitedly. from that day she showed up at the lab to know who the baby was..

"the great mother has given me a sign. a blessing of my own."

the scientist got caught off guard by the young woman's towering figure bursting into their facility, her brushing and slightly shoving them off in search of the baby.

she demanded where the baby was and they lead her to him. they don't know what she wanted with the baby but they were curious on her sudden interest.

as soon she saw the beautiful creature, she towers over eywa's awaken baby staring up at her. he had little baby curly, hair forming on his delicate head. the sound of the baby's comfort on watching the woman staring down at him. the baby coos when he saw her with her beaded hair dangling above his head, he giggles and makes cute sounds reaching for her beads.

the na'vi woman smiled down for what seemed a long time the scientists seen her warm up with a human.

more towards a human child.

the usual scowling and huffs and antics she does around them has disappeared. she sat herself in front of the crib and her tails swishes faster, carefully observing the child when her hand goes to crease his tiny face, he responds with a cute yawn that made her melt and break down her protective walls.

"who's this baby?" she questions not daring to look away the baby with a motherly expression kicking in.

the scientists didn't know how to answer but one of them was kind enough to tell her the truth of his story. who his father was. to their surprise, the na'vi woman didn't care because she picked the boy up in her arms carefully, afraid of hurting his body because of her height and strength.

everyone saw how she cradles the baby and coos to calm him down. the joyous smile decorating her face looking lovingly at him it was as if she birthed him herself.

she cries more bringing him into a warm embrace, creasing his curls and speaks, "name?"

"his name's miles soccoro."

what kind of name is that. she shook her head showing the distaste of such bland name for a boy.

a baby of the great mother deserves a powerful name which everyone will remember when he proves the impossible.

a fierce warrior.

she faces all of them with a smiling lovingly at what she is going to declare her own.

her baby.

"eywa led me to this boy. he is going to be my son. ma seykxel kay te tshaha ingyen'itan." ingyen speaks proud by her announcement to the humans as they never thought her open mind would come from a baby that eywa has chosen.

all of them helped her understand what her baby needs. they suggested a nickname for her baby that came randomly from one of them to name him easier and she was more than welcome to visit him but she didn't want that.

she moved closer until her child is old enough to wear a mask and live with her in the village where she will teach him their ways to grow up into a fine warrior. this boy will lead her somewhere later where she'll follow to love unconditionally but he'll lead her to someone who was the very one she never expected.

a sin of a father.. not in the way they'd expect.

years have passed when the same star comes back..

TAGLIST

@skinmittensgoblin @eternallyvenus @winxschester @perseny @cleverzonkwombatsludge @reallysparklychaos @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @liyahsocorro @violet-19999 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @ratchetprime211 @analuw @alexandra-001

[marvelite624]

"The Seer's Eye"

(A novel by Terry G. Nunley)

Chapter One: "First Omens"

( part 1 )

The small hamlet of D'HarNah has remained a peaceful haven for as long as its' denizens can remember. Consisting mostly of farmers and simple folk, time seems to stand still here while the ravages of endless conflict have brought much of the world down into ruin and decay. Here may one still find beauty, and innocence, and purity. Here, and perhaps only here, can one yet search for happiness with even a glimmer of hope. The people of D'HarNah learned long ago that, in order to survive, they must accept, unlike neighboring communities across the Great Barrier Mountains, those who have resisted the Servitors and incurred the wrath of a bitter queen. They have seen what rebellion can bring and choose instead, to pay the queen's tithes. Thus, procuring another year of peace.

When the Servitors come, no one questions. Very few are permitted a voice at all. To speak in the presence of a Servitor unbidden is often punished with death and worse. Some, they say, are cast into a "Realm of Beasts", there to die again and again in horrible agonies as true death passes them by. She refuses to embrace the souls of this plane who cry out to her for release. Some there are, who claim the tale is intended merely to frighten foolhardy children. Yet, even as parents whisper of it at sleep-time, they shudder and offer up prayers to the Ancient Seer that they may never be faced with the truth of it. But tomorrow, the Servitors come, today is for celebration.

The "Feast of New Hope's Harvest" is a longstanding tradition of the D'Harnahites. They rejoice in life and celebrate to honor the bounty of nature's wonders. The main square surrounds Cathedral and today, the winds give flight to music. No ordinary music this, but the melodies of the world. All at once can be heard the songs of the sky, the seas, and the forests and fields. As though all the voices of nature arise in blessed harmony. It's a magical song to let spirits soar. The people dance as though it would be their last, and if it truly be the last, then let it be the grandest. On this day, the people seek restoration. Bright colors are dashed against cobbled huts. Flowers are hung in abundance, their fragrance scenting the air. Lovers renew old vows even as new loves find fresh voices of their own. The girls adorn themselves in soft, pretty things. The boys as always, will be boys. Each man takes pride in the payment of old debts and more often than not, in simply forgiving his debtors. The women prepare a feast suited to kings, plentiful enough to fill the bellies of an army. No child will be heard to cry, not on this day. Today ends the harvest and, come the dawn, the harvest brings new hope.

* * * * * *

That death lives in every shadow atop the Barrier Mountains is legendary. No one ever tempts the evil there after light-fall. Tonight though, the shadows themselves lay silent in fear. There is a presence here, one quite accustomed to walking in shadow. Not seen, so much as felt, through the darkness. The presence has a name, Felidra. By most she is called 'Majesty'. Those who call her anything else do so under their breath and often never utter another sound. She is queen of this land and the most despised being alive. She revels in the knowledge that this is all she inspires. As she stands amidst the shadows, eyes of liquid fire gaze out across the gathering below.

"Music?", she thinks. "They're celebrating their little harvest. How...sweet."

Her thin lips part briefly then, in an almost undetectable grin. The glow of her eyes begins to pulsate as she turns to face the mountainside. Sounds spew forth from deep within her throat, more savage growl than anything human. Gesturing stiffly as if to command the very earth and rock before her, she begins a chant older than memory itself. And only the shadows bear witness as first, the outer soil tumbles away, pushed by unseen hands. The chant grows louder now as great stones crack and split, heaving violently forward from their resting place. The mountain rumbles and is ripped open to the night. Whatever the blackness which boils out of this wound in nature be, only the Ancient Seer may know. It fills the sky above the mountains, growing ever larger, ever darker. Felidra's words-which-are-not-words begin to fade, replaced with a bone-chilling laughter. The darkness of these mountains is truly alive tonight...alive and so very, very hungry.

( to be continued )

This is a work in progress, written by me. It's a lot of typing and effort to transfer to this medium so I would appreciate a little feedback on whether I'm wasting my time. Please, folks.

[liannyeong]

Crimson (Chapter 8)

Summary: Jaebeom and Yujin spends more time together.

Word count: 2976

Pairing: Jaebeom X OC

Warning(s): a little angst, but mostly fluff ^^

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

A/N: I’m back! :) A slightly shorter chapter this time... I hope to make it up in the next one... ;) Show your support for my works by buying me a coffee! Follow me on Twitter for random updates.

Yujin wakes in the comfort of her own room, but her eyes feel heavy and swollen. She recalls crying her heart out, into Jaebeom’s chest. Or was that just a dream? A dream in which she nearly stabbed Jaebeom in the heart? Nevertheless, the morning is peaceful, with the sunlight streaming through the windows and a soft breeze blowing into the room. Outside, she can hear the melodious chirping of the birds.

Yujin stretches her body, taking a deep breath in before sitting up. That’s when her eyes land on Jaebeom. She hadn’t felt the dip at the foot of the bed. The male fae is perched there, face buried in his hands. With his back turned on her, Yujin notices how broad his shoulders are. She reckons he could envelope her entirely.

“I don’t get you,” he speaks in a hushed tone, as if he’s afraid of breaking the peace in the quiet morning. But Yujin can feel tension in the air, suddenly weighing down on them. Jaebeom runs his fingers through his hair, the locks messy after all the tugging. He stays in position even as he continues. "I thought that maybe, you will come to like me. Whatever I did, it’s all done with you in mind: Would Yujin be okay with it? Will she dislike it? If I do this, will it scare Yujin away? I just-- I kept telling myself that even if you don’t like me, at least, you wouldn’t hate me. You wouldn’t want to run away from me. But now I-- I don't know anymore.”

There’s exasperation in his voice and it strikes a chord in Yujin’s heart. She hadn’t realized how thoughtful Jaebeom was towards her. She had been so caught up in playing the victim, thinking that he was out to get her. On the contrary, all he has ever done is take care of her well-being.

Jaebeom turns his face slightly, just enough for Yujin to see his side profile. He looks pained, eyebrow furrowed. “Do you hate me that much? That you wish to kill me? Just what am I doing wrong? What am I lacking in? What isn’t enough for you?"

Yujin surges forward, grabbing his face with both of her hands. Jaebeom's red eyes are moist, a deep pool of sorrow in them.

"You haven't been anything but kind to me," she assures with a gentle smile, though her own voice is shaking. "I was too blind to realize it. I'm sorry for hurting you. I was selfish, I--"

Jaebeom tears her hands away, placing it back on her lap. "You felt trapped, I understand. Everything happened against your will. But I still-- I tried. I tried to make sure that you'd like me. That you'd see me. So tell me, Yujin," he pauses to hold back the tears, but raw emotions evident on his face and in his voice, "Tell me what I need to do."

The female drops her head to his shoulder, silent tears streaming down her face. "It's not entirely your fault. I'm to blame too! I promise I’ll be better. I’ll try--” Yujin shakes her head. “No, I want to be your wife. Properly.”

She looks up, her vision blurred with all the saline liquid in her eyes. Jaebeom is looking back at her, no words being said.

“I will try,” she continues, “And if anything displeases me, I’ll be sure to tell you. No more hiding things away. I’ll be transparent with you.”

Jaebeom seems touched by this, smiling through the tears. Yujin reaches to wipe it away and the fae holds the hand against his cheek. He nuzzles into her touch, nodding slightly before murmuring into her skin, “I believe you.”

In that moment, the wind blows quietly and Yujin feels something has shifted between them.

---

They fall into an unspoken routine afterwards. They do things together -- anything at all. When preparing their meals, Jaebeom would cast a fire on the stove, manipulating the heat on Yujin’s request. Washing the dishes is mainly Jaebeom’s responsibility because he can dry it quickly by transferring the heat from his bare hands to the utensils. They even read their books quietly, side by side. To them, it is of utmost importance that they stay in each other’s company for most of the day.

Tonight, after their stomachs are sated with food, they lounge at the back porch, facing the farm. They are comfortably seated at the sofa, watching the moon in its full glory. A soft breeze blows over them and Yujin wraps her arms around her body. Lanterns are lit at the corners, but it’s too far to feel the heat.

"Cold?" Jaebeom asks.

"Just a little. Perhaps a small fire would be nice," she responds.

But the male doesn't light a fire. Instead, he throws an arm around her, pulling her in, such that her back is leaning against his body. In this position, Yujin can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. She finds herself relaxing in his hold, revelling in the warmth that radiates from Jaebeom's body.

"It's much warmer this way," he murmurs into her ear. Ironically, Yujin shivers. His fingers worm its way between hers, hands interlocked. Yujin feels the male nuzzle his face into her hair, taking a whiff as if he's smelling fragrant flowers. Her heart pounds erratically in her chest, and she's sure that he could hear it loud and clear. What can she think about when Jaebeom is infiltrating her every sense?

Abashed, Yujin tries to distract herself. She plays with his fingers, pretending that it’s more interesting. She notices how his hands feel nice against hers, how it fits perfectly in hers. She also notices that he’s still wearing that iron ring on his little finger. Yujin grazes her thumb over the ring head.

"Does it bother you?" Jaebeom asks, noticing her attention on the ring.

Yujin can't bring herself to answer that. Honestly, she feels a pang of disappointment in her heart. After all, they're married now. How would one feel if her partner is wearing a gift from a past lover?

When she doesn't reply, Jaebeom slides the ring off, holding it up between his fingers. The ring glints in the dark, reflecting the moonlight off its surface.

"It's a memento. A reminder that love can change me," he says, gazing at the ring before slotting it back to his finger. "I didn't have the best character. I was always angry, I hated the world." He lets out a chuckle. "I even used to hate Jinyoung! I was ousted because I’m a halfling. The entire faefolk despised me. No one accepted me. I was hidden away like a dirty little secret, while Jinyoung is free to roam the streets. He had everything I didn’t. I wanted to wreck him, to take everything away from him."

Jaebeom then smiles to himself, fondness in his eyes. His gaze has softened, as if recalling a precious memory. "But how can I when he looked at me with those wide eyes. As if I was a hero. He used to follow me around even though everyone ignored me. He didn’t shut me out like the other faes. He saw me for who I am, rather than what I am. For that, I’m always thankful for his existence in my life."

The fae lets out a deep breath. His brows are knitted now, and Yujin wants nothing but to smooth those creases on his face. Despite that, she keeps her hands to herself, waiting patiently.

"When the Water court found out about my existence, they wanted my family exiled. They wanted to execute my father for loving a Fire fae, and me for being born into this world, for tainting the purity and the reputation of the Water court." The fae scoffs. "They had me all tied up, humiliated in front of the Water faefolk. I would have died, if not for my father’s sacrifice."

A tear drops his face, and he wipes it off haphazardly. Yujin can feel a mixture of fury and sorrow in him.

"I was so furious at the injustice, at their baseless discrimination. In my anger, I gained control of the executer's mind. Chaos ensued, and I was sure I would have been killed. But my father managed to break free from the cuffs and sent me to the mansion. My mother was already hiding away in the mansion when I came. The next thing I knew, my father took the blame for everything and..."

His shoulders are slumped now, and it’s as if he admits defeat. He lets out a shaky sigh. "And I'm still alive."

Jaebeom holds a hand up, igniting a small ball of fire in his palm. "I don't deserve to live when I am this weak. I can't even control big flames. This is the only thing I can do. I'll never be as good as the pure faes. I'll never be enough--"

"That's not true," Yujin interjects, grabbing his wrist. The fire instantly vanishes. "You are good enough. You may not be a pure fae, but you have garnered a string of loyal faes -- just look at your servants and Jinyoung! Forget about the rest of the faefolk. You changed the lives of the faes you took in. You gave them a home that they were not able to have. Powers aside, you are not incapable at all! You're brilliant, witty, caring, dashing even--"

The male raises a brow, cracking a smile on his tear-stained face. "Dashing?"

Yujin flushes at the slip of tongue. "That's not the main point!" she squeaks, earning a laugh from the other. "The main point is that, you're more than you think you are."

Jaebeom offers a smile, eyes glistening in the dimness of the light. He seems touched by her words. "Thank you, Yujin," he whispers.

A momentary pause follows, before Jaebeom speaks again, brushing the pad of his thumb against the ring head. "After all that chaos in the Water court, a girl appeared in my life. She was like first sliver of light at dawn, the calm after the storm.”

Sorrow appears on his face. "This ring was made without a proper measurement. It could only fit my little finger. Despite it being made from paper, it bore the weight of a promise. The promise of forever. But I hurt her, and I willingly let her go."

"Do you miss her?" Yujin hesitantly asks, even though she might feel hurt from the answer. "Do you still... love her?"

Jaebeom turns his face, meeting her eyes. The look on his face changes, an expression Yujin can't decipher. He reaches for her face, his knuckles lightly brushing against her cheek. His gaze has softened.  

"Sometimes," he murmurs. "But you're here now. That's enough for me."

Yujin blinks at the male. A question that has been itching to be asked is at the tip of her tongue. She turns away, and this snaps the moment.

"Was it Princess Yena?" she asks, voice nearly quiet.

"What?"

"Yena. Was it her?" she repeats, adamant in avoiding the male’s face. "I mean-- Did you not have anything special with her? You two look good together... Jinyoung did mention that you're very fond of the Choi siblings and that Yena likes you a lot, so..."

"And because of that, I would return her feelings?"

"Well, it's not impossible, is it?"

To Yujin's surprise, Jaebeom laughs out loud, throwing his head back. She wonders if she had cracked a joke. His laughter subsides a moment later. Jaebeom shifts in his seat, angling his body towards her. He takes Yujin's hands in his own.

"Please don't get the wrong idea, Yujin," he begins. "I only see Yena as a sister. Nothing more. I dote on her as much as I dote on Youngjae. Unfortunately, Yena misinterpreted my affection for love. That's why she's rather... possessive about me. You must know that I don't like her in that way at all."

Yujin nods slowly, showing that she believes his answer.

"Believe me, my love." Something about that term of endearment makes her heart flutter. "You are all I think about now."

Yujin lets out a playful scoff, trying to play off the fuzzy feeling that he induced in her. “What have I ever done but hurt you?”

"Love is the taste of sweetness after a long bitter," Jaebeom says with a shrug.

Yujin laughs. "What, are you a poet now?"

"I am not, but you, my love, are poetry."

Yujin is so flustered by this, she slaps the male on the chest. Needless to say, she can't help the curling of her lips. In the next moment, Jaebeom captures her lips with no resistance.

---

Their relationship has evolved to become more affectionate, but they still don’t share the same bed. Even though they spent their time in each other’s company, they would still part ways and sleep in separate rooms. Yujin finds herself being comfortable with Jaebeom, having put her guard down around him. She has learnt to be relaxed and lets herself loose around the male. If she was told that she would come to enjoy Jaebeom’s presence weeks ago, she would have believed that a spell was cast upon her. She would have attempted to escape the mansion more than once, or even attempt to kill Jaebeom again. The thought of that brings shivers to her spine. It saddens her if Jaebeom ceased to exist in her life. The love and attention that she receives from him has made her life much sweeter.

It’s the last night before they head back to the mansion. They spent the day lazing around, cuddling on the couch in front of the fireplace. Yujin wonders if the warmth that she feels all over her body is from the flames or from Jaebeom’s embrace. Either way, she has never felt so content before. She has never felt genuinely happy like this.

“I can’t believe that we’re heading back to the mansion tomorrow,” Jaebeom breaks the comfortable silence between them, earning a laugh from Yujin.

“We can always come back here. You know that.”

“Yeah but…” The male sighs. “I don’t even want to leave. It’s so peaceful here.”

“I’m glad that you feel safe here,” Yujin says. “You’re always welcomed here.”

Jaebeom turns his head, meeting her eyes. The light from the flames dance on his pale white skin. With his crimson eyes, Yujin briefly forgets that Jaebeom is a halfling. She wonders how different a pure blooded Jaebeom would be. For one, he’ll definitely be stronger.

“You really mean it?”

The female nods. “I trust you, Jaebeom,” she says, her voice soft, like it’s a secret between them. “I was a difficult person at first but now, I don’t hate you. In fact, I--” she pauses, a little embarrassed at what she’s about to say next, “I enjoy your company. I like to be around you.”

This seems to have an effect on the fae for he stares at her with wide eyes. He’s probably in disbelief. After all, she had attempted to kill him almost a week ago. But here they are, carrying out a civil conversation. No, fostering a proper relationship between a husband and a wife. Well, at least a part of it.

A smile spreads over Jaebeom’s lips, exposing his pearly white teeth. It’s the kind of smile that reaches his eyes, the one in which they turn into crescents. “Yujin, I--” He fumbles for words, too happy to form coherent sentences.

Yujin shifts, facing the male fully. This time, she’s the first one to initiate a touch. She brings his hand to her face, placing it against her cheek. She holds it there, nuzzling into his warm palm. Her thumb rubs against the skin on his inner wrist.

“You have no idea how happy you’ve made me,” Jaebeom whispers. “This past week, it was crazy, but I-- I’m just so--”

Yujin pecks his lips, catching him offguard. “I know,” she assures with a smile. “I know.”

Jaebeom returns the smile, turning their hands such that their fingers are interlaced. A moment passes and Yujin has the wildest thought in her head. On impulse, she calls out his name softly.

“Hmm?”

“Could you stay with me tonight?”

The face that Jaebeom makes is almost comical. His eyes have gone wide, his jaw agape.

“N-no! N-not that kind,” Yujin flounders, realizing how the earlier question sounded like. “I meant like-- Just sleeping next to each other! N-nothing more than t-that!”

The Fire fae coughs, his cheeks colored a deep shade of red. He scratches the back of his neck. “R-right… I-- uh--”

“It’s alright if you don’t want to…” Yujin mumbles under her breath.

“It’s not that! I definitely want to but--” He covers a portion of his face with a hand. “I’m afraid that I wouldn’t be able to control myself…”

Yujin bites her lower lip, blushing at the implication of his words. Her cheeks are burning, and she shakes her head, as if it helps in clearing the thoughts in her mind.

"I trust you, Jaebeom,” she says later, convinced. “I know you wouldn’t do anything I dislike."

The fae looks conflicted, as if he doesn’t trust himself. But in the end, he gives in, nodding his head subtly. Almost instantly, Yujin tugs him on his feet and leads him up her room. In record time, they slipped underneath the sheets. Yujin settles half of her body over Jaebeom’s, coiling a leg around his. She presses her ear against his chest, listening to the soft beating of his heart through the layers of clothing. Jaebeom settles his hand around her waist, supporting her in place. Yujin sighs, contented, before falling into a deep slumber.

[rabbiaharon]

From Scripture to Talmud - a brief recapitulation of the history of the Oral Tradition

This post is a modest start for anyone who wants to understand the process by which Jewish law is handed down. Furthermore I am leaving this here to dispel the unfortunate misconception that we were given scripture, then a huge break from Torah, then Mishnah/Talmud (and then another huge break until today). The Mesorah - handing down of the tradition - is an unbroken chain from Sinai until today. Let’s begin with Pirkei Avos, a simple, up-front source for this stuff: 

משֶׁה קִבֵּל תּוֹרָה מִסִּינַי, וּמְסָרָהּ לִיהוֹשֻׁעַ, וִיהוֹשֻׁעַ לִזְקֵנִים, וּזְקֵנִים לִנְבִיאִים, וּנְבִיאִים מְסָרוּהָ לְאַנְשֵׁי כְנֶסֶת הַגְּדוֹלָה. הֵם אָמְרוּ שְׁלשָׁה דְבָרִים, הֱווּ מְתוּנִים בַּדִּין, וְהַעֲמִידוּ תַלְמִידִים הַרְבֵּה, וַעֲשׂוּ סְיָג לַתּוֹרָה:

אבות א:א

Moshe received the torah at Sinai and transmitted it to Joshua, Joshua to the elders, and the elders to the prophets, and the prophets to the Men of the Great Assembly. They said three things: Be patient in [the administration of] justice, raise many disciples and make a fence round the Torah.

Pirkei Avos Chapter 1, Mishnah 1.

The time which passed from the giving of the Torah (the year 2448AM) until the building of the second temple (3410AM) was 962 years, during which there was a halachically undisputed leader of the Jewish people who was responsible for guiding them and teaching the oral Torah, the Rambam (Maimonides) lists the order of transmission in much more detail in his preface to his magnum opus, the Mishnah Torah.

רבי יהודה בר נחמני מתורגמניה דרבי שמעון בן לקיש כתיב (שמות לד, כז) כתוב לך את הדברים האלה וכתיב (שמות לד, כז) כי ע"פ הדברים האלה הא כיצד דברים שבכתב אי אתה רשאי לאומרן על פה דברים שבעל פה אי אתה רשאי לאומרן בכתב

גיטין ד’’ס ע’’ב

Rabbi Yehuda bar Naḥmani, the translator for Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish, expounded as follows: It is written: “Write you these matters” (Exodus 34:27), and it is written later in that same verse: “For on the basis of [al pi] these matters.” How can these texts be reconciled? They mean to teach: Matters that were written you may not express them orally [al peh], and matters that were taught orally you may not express them in writing. The school of Rabbi Yishmael taught: The word “these” in the mitzva recorded in the verse “Write you these matters” is used here in an emphatic sense: These matters, i.e., those recorded in the Written Law, you may write, but you may not write halakhot, i.e., the mishnayot and the rest of the Oral Law. 

--Gittin 60b

So... if there is an injunction not to write down the Oral Tradition. How did we get to the mishnah, the talmud... and for that matter all the incredible breadth (read: literally millions of volumes of explanations, expounding, or written law of any sort) that we have now. Warning: The english translation will be imprecise, because in comparison to mishnaic hebrew, english is un-elegant, inefficient, un-contextual, and a lot of other in-’s and -un’s. For those who can understand the mishnaic hebrew text, you’ll understand why.

זמן בית שני היה נחלק לשתי תקופות בכלל. הא' היא זמן אנשי כנסת הגדולה, והשני’, זמן הזוגות. האנשי כנסת הגדולה (ובתוכם מרדכי היהודי, עזרא הסופר, ירמיהו הנביא, נחמיה וכמה עד שניזכרו במקרא) הם סוף זמן המקרא, ותחילת זמן המשנה, והם גזרו כמה וכמה גזירות לחזק את ישראל בעבודת אלקים חיים ב'’ה. ושמעון הצדיק היה משירי אנשי כנסת הגדולה כמ'’ש במס' אבות. בתקופה השני’ היה המסורה נמסרה בעיקר ע'’י שני גדולי הדור – נשיא ואב בית דין, ובית דינם. ושירי הזוגות הם הלל ושמאי. ואחר הלל, שמעון בנו היה הנשיא, ורבן יוחנן בן זכאי האב בית דין… ותלמידיו ,ותלמידי תלמידיו נחשבו גוף התנאים שבמשנה. בתחילת גלות רומי (בשנת 3829 ליצירה) החריבה את בתינו ושרפה את היכלינו והגליתנו מארצנו, ומכאן ואילך נעשו הצרות כפולות ומכופלות ונתחדשו גזירות קשות בכל שנה ושנה עד נשיאיות רבינו הקדוש, הוא רבי יהודא הנשיא ונתן לו הקב'’ה חן בעיני אנטונינוס מלך רומי ונחו מצרות וימצא חן וחסד וכבוד בעיניו והרביץ התורה לרבים (זה לשון ספר הליכות עולם). וראה רבינו בחכמתו שהגיע זמן לחבר ספר בתורה שבעל פה פן ישכח המסורה מתוך עם ישראל מפני הירידה לגלות ח’’ו. וקבץ בעלי שמועה ובעלי משנה מכל קצוות הארץ ואמר כל אחד ואחד שמועתו כמו שנשמעה תלמיד מפי רבו עד משה רבינו עליו השלום. ובחר רבינו המובחר משש מאות סדרי משנה שהיה בזמן ההוא וחבר ששה סדרי המשנה בס'’ג מסכתות בקיצור נמרץ, מעט בכמות, ומרובה באיכות וסמכו הוא ובית דינו על המקרא שכתוב עת לעשות לה’ הפרו תורתיך. ועכ'’ז נגנזו בו כל התורה וסודותיה. וכתוב בסדר הדורות שזה היה בערך לשנת 3948 

The time of the second temple was divided into 2 eras. The first was the era of the Men of the Great Assembly, and the second was referred to as the era of the Pairs. The Men of the Great Assembly (and among them Mordechai, Ezra, Yirmiyahu, Nechemiah, and many more who are mentioned in Scripture) represented the end of scripture, and the beginning of the time of the Mishnah, and they made many decrees to strengthen the Jewish people in their service of the Living G-d. Shimon the Righteous was among the last of the Men of the Great Assembly, as is written in Pirkei Avos. 

In the second era the tradition was guarded and disseminated mainly by 2 great leaders working in tandem - the first one the Nasi (leader typically descended from King David) and the second the Av Beis Din (head of the court) aided by their court. The last of the Pairs was Hillel and Shammai, and after them, Hillel’s son Shimon served as the Nasi, and Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkai as the Av Beis Din. Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkai, his students, and his students’ students became the main sages of the Mishnah. In the year 3830, the Romans destroyed our Holy House, burned our Palace, and sent us into exile from our land. From then on, the suffering was doubled and quadrupled, with new, harsher decrees against the jewish people every year until the generation of Rebbi Yehudah HaNasi. G-d granted him grace and respect in the eyes of Antoninus, the emperor of Rome, and the decrees were relaxed. Students came back to the study houses to learn, and the Oral Torah spread out to the masses.

Rebbi Yehuda saw with his wisdom that it had come time to assemble a book of the Oral Tradition, lest it be forgotten from the Jewish people in the midst of the descent into Exile. Thus he gathered sages from as far north as Germany, as far West as Spain, as Far South as Ethiopia, and as far East as India, and each one repeated their learning tradition as they had received it, teacher to student, going back to Moshe, our teacher, peace be upon him. Rebbi Yehuda HaNasi picked the choicest of the mishnayot from the 600 orders of mishnah that were at that time, and assembled them into the 6 orders of mishnah, comprised of 63 tractates in brief - words few in quantity, but great in quality - in the 6 orders of mishnah, he concealed the entire oral tradition and all of its secrets. It’s written in Seder Hadoros (historical text) that the assembly of the mishnah was around the year 3948AM, 1500 years after the exodus from Egypt.

ואלו הן הס'’ג מסכתות של משנה לפי סדרם

A list of the 63 tractates of Mishnah divided into 6 “orders”: 

Zeraim, dealing with agricultural laws and blessings.

Berachos, Peah, Demai, Kilayim, Shvi’is, Terumos, Ma’asros, Ma’aser Sheni, Orlah, Challah, Bikkurim

Mo’ed, dealing with the holidays and their customs

Shabbos, Eiruvin, Pesachim, Shekalim, Yoma, Sukkah, Beitzah Rosh Hashanah, Ta’anis, Megillah, Moeh Katan, and Chagigah

Nashim, dealing with the laws of marriage, vows, and divorce

Yevamos, Kiddushin, Kesubos, Nedarim, Nazir, Sotah, and Gittin

Nezikin, dealing with civil law, criminal law, and damages

Baba Kamma, Baba Metziah, Baba Basra, Sanhedrin, Makkos,  Shevuos, Eidius, Horius, Avodah Zarah, and Avos

Kodashim, dealing with the temple and sacrifices

Zevachim, Menachos, Chullin, Bechoros, Erchin, Temurah, Kerisos, Me’ilah, Kinnim, Tamid, and Middos

Taharos, dealing with the laws of ritual purity and impurity

Keilim, Ohelos, Negayim, Para, Taharos, Mikvaos, Niddah, Makshirin, Zavim, T’vul Yom, Yaddayim, and Uktzin

לפי דעת בעל ספר הליכות עולם: מרבי יוחנן בן זכאי לרבינו הקודש חמש דורות ואלו הם: הדור הראשון רבי יוחנן בן זכאי בעצמו וחבריו,  הדור השני, רבי אליעזר בן הורקנוס, רבי אלעזר בן ערך, רבי יהושע בן חנניה, רבי יוסי הכהן והרבה זולתם  הדור השלישי, רבי עקיבא, רבי טרפון, רבן גמליאל, רבי אלעזר בן עזריה, רבי אלעזר בן שמוע וחבריהם, הדור הרביעי, רבי שעמון בן יוחי (מחבר הזהר הקדש), רבי יהודא , רבי מאיר, רבי יוסי בן חלפתא, רבי נחמיה, וחבריהם. הדור החמישי רבינו הקדוש, רבי נתן, רבי ישמעאל בנו של רבי יוסי, וחבריהם, והם סוף התנאים שבמשנה ע''כ.

According to Sefer Halichos Olam: The time between Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkai until Rebbi Yehuda HaNasi spanned 5 generations. In the first generation, Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakkai and his colleagues. The Second Generation: Rebbi Eliezer ben Horkenus, Rebbi Elazar ben Arach, Rebbi Yehoshuah Ben Chananya, Rebbi Yossi HaKohen, and many others like them. The Third generation included Rebbe Akiva, Rebbi Tarfon, Rabban Gamliel, Rebbi Elazar ben Azarya, Rebbi Elazar ben Shamuah and their colleagues. The fourth generation included Rebbi Shimon Bar Yochai (who assembled the Holy Zohar), Rebbi Yehuda bar Ilai, Rebbi Meir, Rebbi Yossi ben Chalafta, Rebbi Nechemiah, and their colleagues. The fifth generation included Rebbi Yehudah HaNasi, Rebbi Nasan, Rebbi Yishmael the son of Rebbi Yossi, and their colleagues - and they were the last generation of the sages of the Mishnah. 

ואחר חיבור המשנה נתבלבלה דעת הלומדים, ולא נמצא אלא מעט התלמידים היכולים לדייק כל התורה ממשנה בלבד, ונצטרכו להכניס ברייתות, מלשון כלפי בר, שנקרא כן מפני שנשתיירו חוץ למשנה. וחברו תלמידי רבינו – רבי הושעיא ורבי חייא – ספר התוספתא שהם ברייתות חזקות ואלמות כמשנה. וחברו רבי הושעיא ותלמידיו המדרש רבה להאיר המסורה וסודותיה בקו הנסתר באגדת התורה, ביין ובשמן כמ'’ש ואספת דגנך ותירושך ויצהרך. וחבר רב (י'’א שהוא רבי אבא דירושלמי, והוא תלמידו של רבי) ותלמידיו את הספרא כנגד ספ' ויקרא, וספרי כנגד במדבר ודברים ,שהם מדרשי הלכות. וחבר רבי יוחנן האמורא ותלמידיו את התלמוד ירושלמי, להאיר המשא ומתן שבמשנה ולבון הילכתא.

In the years after the assembly of the Mishnah, as a result of the descent into exile, the torah students began to lose the ability to learn the oral tradition properly - there were only a select few who knew how to divine all the secrets of the Torah from the few words of the Mishnah. Therefore they required the additional detail of Mishnaic statements left out of the 6 Orders of Mishnah, called Baraisos (Which means “outside”) because they were left out of the Mishnah. The students of Rebbi Yehudah HaNasi-  Rebbi Hoshiya and Rebbi Chiya - assembled the Tosefta from those Baraisos: The Tosefta, edited and published so soon after the mishnah, is considered highly accurate, and when compared in talmud has strength similar to Mishnah. Rebbi Hoshiya and his students then assembled the Midrash Rabbah to illuminate the traditions and their secrets within the stories of the torah, with “wine and oil”, as it is written “And you will gather your grain, your wine and your oil”. Rav (many say he was also known as Rebbi Aba in the Jerusalem Talmud - also a students of Rebbi Yehuda HaNasi) and his students assembled the baraisos of Sifra on Sefer Vayikra and the Sifri on Bamidbar and Devarim - Sifra and Sifri are midrashei halacha (sections of law derived directly from verses in Torah). Rebbi Yochanan the Amora and his students assembled the Jerusalem Talmud to illuminate and elucidate the discussions behind the Mishnah.

 וכתוב בספר הליכות עולם: אלו הם חכמי הגמרא לדרותם. הדור הראשון, רבי חייא, ורבי הושעיא, ולוי, ובר קפרא, רבים זולתם (והם נקראים בכמה מקומות 'דור המעבר' שהם ממעצים בין תנאים לאמוראים), הדור השני רבי יוחנן, ריש לקיש, [רב, וי'’א שהוא רבי אבא דירושלמי, ושמואל], וחכמי דורם. הדור השלישי רב הונא ורב יהודא, ורב נחמן, ורב אסי, ועולא ואנשי דורם, הדור הרביעי רב חסדא ורבה בר נחמני ורב יוסף,  ורב ששת וזולתם. הדור החמישי אביי ורבא וזולתם הרבה. הדור הששי רב פפא ורב פפי ורב הונא בריה דרב יהושע ורב יימר ורב זביד ואנשי דורם, הדור השביעי רב כהנא ורפרם בר פפא ואמימר ומר זוטרא ורב אשי . ורבינא, והם סוף הוראה עד כאן לשון הליכות עולם. חיבור הגמרא היה בערך לשנת 4250, ומכאן  ועד 4300 היה זמן הרבנן סבראי כגון רב אחאי ורב יהודאי.

It’s written in Sefer Halichos Olam: These are the leaders of the generations of the Gemara. The first generation, Rebbi Chiya, Rebbi Hoshiya, Levi, Bar Kappara, and many like them (as they are called in many places, the “transition generation”, as they represent the transition between Tannayim of the Mishnah and Amorayim of the Gemara). The second generation Rebbi Yochanan, Reish Lakish, Rav, and Shmuel, and the others of their generation. The third generation, Rav Huna, Rebbi Yehuda Nesiah, Rebbi Nachman, Rav Assi, Ullah, and the others of their generation. The fourth generation, Rev Chisda, Rabbah bar Nachmeini, Rav Yosef, Rav Sheishes, and their peers. The fifth generation, Abaye, Rava and many others. The Sixth generation, Rav Pappi, Rav Pappa, Ameimar, Mar Zutra, Rav Ashi, and Ravina. They represented the end of the time of the gemara, which was written down around the year 4250 on the hebrew calendar to preserve the discussions and elucidations on the mishnah lest they be forgotten. From then until around the year 4300 was the time of the Rabbanan Savrai, like Rav Achai and Rav Yehudai - who added a few final sections to the Gemara before sealing it.

ועמדו אחריהם הגאונים, כגון רב סעדיא גאון, רב שרירא,  ורב האי גאון והרבה זולתם, שהם נשיאים  התמימים עד עמוד הראשונים בשנת 4800, דמשמת רב האי גאון, נולד רש'’י, הראשון שבראשונים. והם הם עמודי הלכה. ובתוכם – רש'’י, הרמב'’ם, הרמב'’ן, הר'’ף, הר'’ן, הר'’י, רבינו תם, המהר'’ם, מרדכי, והרבה זולתם והרא'’ש הוא האחרון שבהם, וחיבור בנו את הטור, שקבץ סברות הראשונים במקום אחד וסדר אותם לעין כל. 

After them arose the Geonium, like Rav Sa’adya Gaon and Rav Sherira, Rav Hai Gaon, and many others. They were the the pure and holy leaders of the jewish people until the beginning of the era of the Rishonim (firsts) in the year 4800 - as the last of the Geonim (Rav Hai Gaon) passed away, Rashi (known as the first of the Rishonim) was born - and they represented pillars of halacha, and among them: Rashi, the Rambam, the Ramban, The Rif, The Ran, the Ri, Rabbeinu Tam, the Maharam, the Mordechai, and many like them. The Rosh as the last of them, and his son, the Tur, gathered the rulings of the Rishonim into one place and arranged them for all to see.

ואחריו עמדו שני מאירי עולם, רב יוסף קארו (הבית יוסף) ואת רב משה איסרליש (רמ'’א) . ונתן הקב'’ה  בליבם לבאר דברי הטור בבאר היטב, ואחר כך לסדר ההלכה למעשה לעם ישראל, הוא השולחן ערוך שהוא עומד וקיים לעד אפילו לאחרי ביאת המשיח ותחיית המתים. 

And after them arose 2 illuminators of the world, Rav Yosef Karo (the Beis Yosef) and Rav Moshe Isserles (the Ramah). The Holy One Blessed be He placed upon their hearts to explain the words of the Tur in great breadth, and afterwards to arrange and publish the practical laws for the Jewish People. This is the Shulchan Aruch, which will stand and sustain until even after the Moshiach comes and the dead are resurrected.

והטור ושולחן ערוך נחלק לארבע חלקים, ובתוכם הלכות לאין קץ מסודרים בסימנים ופרקים שונים, ואלו הם

The Tur and Shulchan Aruch are divided into 4 sections, and within them many laws with no end, arranged according to their sections and different chapters.

[heysoup]

Fluffy February Day 1 - Fishing

Howdy folks! I’m taking part in the Fallout Fluffy February prompt list this month, hosted by @fluffyfebruary

Every day of this month I’ll be posting my finished prompts under the community tag #fluffyfebruary and on my own blog as #fluffyfeb. I’ll also be cross posting to Ao3, which I’ll link to in each post - so feel free to follow me over there, too!

Chapter 1: A Fisher of Men

Pairing: Butch/Male Lone Wanderer

Summary: Jamie takes Butch out on the Potomac for a fishing trip in the same spot his father had taken him a year prior. What seems to be an uneventful few hours turns into anything but when they find a monster on the other end of their line. Takes place after the events of Broken Steel.

Ao3 Link

“This is fucking boring.”

Jamie shoots Butch an irritated look from where he’s sitting across from the other man in the canoe, his brows drawn together as he tries his damnedest to untangle his fishing line from the third piece of driftwood he’s ‘caught’ that day.

“No shit,” he grumbles, spitting out some mud as he tries to break the line off the wood with his teeth. He lets out a frustrated huff, gripping his rod in both hands as he raises it up and fights the urge to just chuck the whole damn thing into the Potomac. He hears Butch snicker, and he whips his head up.

“You’re like a goddamn feral,” Butch teases with a laugh, reaching over and snatching the rod from Jamie’s grip. He digs in the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his switchblade, flicking it open and carefully beginning to cut the line away from where it’s tangled in the driftwood to try and save as much of it as he can.

He kicks his boots playfully against Jamie’s sneakers, noticing how the canvas high-tops are completely soaked through from the puddle of water they’d managed to slosh into the canoe earlier as they tried ungracefully to board it from the shore. He just shakes his head, a smile on his face, knowing that if he brings up the topic of appropriate footwear to the younger man it’ll just earn him a bruised shoulder.

“This was supposed to be like… meditative or some shit,” Jamie says with a sigh. He rubs his hands over his freckled face and ruffles some of the dust out of his sun-warmed hair. Butch just gives him an incredulous look.

“Where the hell did you get that idea from?” He finishes cutting the driftwood free and tosses it behind him into their small pile of ‘catches’ – which is really just a collection of junk at this point – before reattaching the hook and bobber and handing the rod back to the other man. He leans over and grabs his own fishing pole, squinting against the reflective ripples in the water to check on his bobber. Still absolutely no bites.

Jamie shrugs, suddenly looking a little bashful. “I dunno,” he admits. He reaches back into the salvaged can of cram they were using as bait, tears a chunk out, and works on preparing his hook again. Not like it matters much, he tells himself. He can continue to go through the motions perfectly and not catch a single thing. A little bit like everything else in his life, he thinks bitterly. His fucking bad luck.

After a moment of silence, Jamie continues. “Apparently my family came from a long line of fishermen on my dad’s side. He passed down some stories about it. Told me they were tradition or something.” Jamie shrugs. “Anyway, he taught me that you were s’posed to reflect on yourself out here. Get some peace and quiet.” Jamie finally says. He sucks the excess cram off his fingers, his tongue burning at the sudden saltiness, and casts his line out again, his bobber floating a few feet from Butch’s. Butch looks up at him, snapped out of his own thoughts.

“Huh… like, Wasteland fisherman?” Butch asks, deliberately choosing not to tell him how he thinks the whole ‘peace and quiet’ schtick is a load of brahmin shit and instead focusing on the first part of what he said. He’s always intrigued whenever Jamie tells him about his family, at least after they’d learned that he wasn’t born in the vault. The idea of generations of Arroyo’s managing to survive out here long enough to pop out the rascally kid he sits across from kind of amazes him. He sets his fishing pole back down against the side of the canoe, sure that it would be fine – he hasn’t gotten a single nibble in the past three hours.

“Nah. I’m sure some of them might’ve been, but we don’t really know much about closer generations of my family. We only really knew about some of my prewar family – something about some records my dad’s dad had kept on his terminals after searching our surname through databases in some place that used to process immigrations, or some shit. The occupation listed there was fisherman, apparently.” Jamie finishes and Butch hums thoughtfully, trying to imagine what Jamie’s granddad might have looked like.

Jamie winces when he thinks of his dad and has to shake the thoughts from his head. As if his face reflecting back at him from the clear surface of the clean water isn’t enough of a reminder of what he’s lost of his family and himself to of Project Purity – he looks like his own father’s ghost and even carries his name.

Butch’s fishing pole snapping against the side of the boat brings him back out of his thoughts, and he flinches back away from the canoe’s edge, the quick motion causing him to almost tumble out the other side as the boat sways dangerously.

“I got one!” Butch practically shouts and lunges for the pole, straddling the seat of the canoe and bracing his legs against the floor as he begins an awkward tug-of-war match with whatever is on the other end of his line. Jamie perks up with a huge grin on his face, all thoughts of his troubles momentarily forgotten, and hovers over Butch nervously.

“Make sure you don’t reel in when he’s pulling on the line! And try to give it some slack!” Jamie parrots what his father had taught him on their one and only fishing trip in the Wastes months back and digs around in their mess of a canoe for the rickety net they brought with them. Butch just gives an annoyed grunt, his face crinkled in concentration as he pulls on the line.

“This bastard is fuckin’ heavy!” He complains, giving the rod a yank that rocks their canoe again. Whatever they have hooked is pulling them ever so slightly to the opposite shore and splashing like crazy beneath the water.

“Scoot,” Jamie orders. He tosses the net aside – it’s obvious that whatever’s on the other side of the line won’t fit in it now - and moves on unsteady legs to sit behind Butch, reaching his arms around the other man’s waist and grabbing the fishing pole to help him pull. What the hell are they dealing with here?

By the time they begin to make some progress in reeling the fish in, they’re about halfway to the shore and completely out of breath. Butch laughs hysterically between pulls, his eyes squeezed shut in glee, and Jamie can’t help but laugh in return. His palms are sweaty, his white-knuckle grip on the fishing pole beginning to slip.

“Is it trying to pull us out of the water?!” Butch says suddenly, elbowing Jamie to look at the swiftly approaching shore. They’re hauling ass at this point, almost as if… whatever they hooked had suddenly caught some footing in the shallower water. Jamie’s eyes widen and he immediately lets go of the pole to root around in their bags. As he does, Butch careens forward from the sudden lack of support and just barely catches himself with his elbows against the edge of the canoe. He curses, “CHRIST, Nosebleed! Some warning next time!”

Jamie has only just gotten his hands on Butch’s shotgun when they finally catch a glimpse of their ‘fish’ as it breaks the surface of the water. At this point, they’ve reeled it in pretty close and the wake left behind the huge creature emerging from the stagnant part of the river capsizes their canoe just as they crash into the sandy shore.

With a chorus of yells both men topple over into the shallows. Jamie squeezes his eyes shut and lands on his back with a thud, his arms stretched up over his head holding the shotgun out of the river. The water feels like a cold slap to his face, and he comes back up gasping for air. He looks over to where Butch has landed hard on his ass, noting that the fishing pole is being tugged out of his hands and quickly away from him. He looks and sees the fruits of their labor – an albino Mirelurk with the fishing line wrapped around one claw.

“MIRELURK!” Butch yells, scrambling to his feet and running over to Jamie. He pulls the other man up and grabs the shotgun from him just as the Mirelurk turns toward them and begins clambering over the old canoe that groans and splinters beneath its weight.

“Shoot it! Shoot it!” Jamie practically shrieks and pushes against Butch’s arm, urging him to hurry when the Mirelurk picks up speed and barrels toward them. Butch nods and fights the urge to run, taking a breath and bracing for the recoil as he lines up his shot. Jamie flinches when he hears the crack! of the rounds exploding from the gun and shattering the vulnerable part of the Mirelurk’s fragile front shell. His ears ring from the close proximity of the shot and he grimaces, about to cover them until he realizes the monster is still running full speed toward them. Shit!

He grabs Butch and tackles him to the ground, shoving them out of the way as the huge, mutated crab stumbles past them at an alarming speed and crashes hard into the shore. It lies there face-first in a mound in the sand and they watch it with wild eyes from their position on the ground, ready to book it at any hint of movement, but it’s motionless and quiet – dead.

Jamie rolls off of Butch and flops down next to him, both of them looking up at the endless expanse of bright blue sky as they struggle to catch their breaths.

“Still think fishing is boring?” Jamie snaps and Butch begins to laugh again, the sound starting as a snort and bubbling slowly from his chest before he’s full-on wheezing with laughter. Jamie sits up and looks down at him like he’s insane.

“What about this was funny?!” He asks, shaking Butch’s shoulder. He can’t help but return the grin, though. Seeing Butch happy always manages to make him smile. Butch wipes his hand down his face as he sits up, slinging the shotgun over his shoulder and hopping to his feet. He reaches down to pull Jamie up with him, a huge shit-eating grin on his face.

Jamie’s ears suddenly feel hot as he watches Butch, noticing the endearing gap between his two front teeth and the splash of sun freckles over his now sand-dusted face. He swallows, his heart racing. “What?” He repeats again, his throat dry.

“I caught a motherfucking fish.” Butch beams even more and looks incredibly proud of himself as they turn and walk over to his ‘catch.’ He kicks it with the toe of his boot a few times just to ease his own worries of it springing back to life.

“It’s not a fish! It’s a crab, they’re different.” Jamie argues and crouches down, grabbing the edge of the Mirelurk’s shell with Butch as they flip it over with a heave. Jamie doesn’t mention that technically he did catch it with a fishing pole, and that technically they are going to have it for dinner. He doesn’t want to give Butch the satisfaction, especially considering the only thing he got out of this trip is his collection of stones and driftwood that was currently crushed under their broken canoe.

“It counts.” Butch says, the grin still plastered on his face. He pulls a combat knife out of a holster on his belt and settles down on his knees in the sand, tapping the sharp edge of it against the shell. “Look at this bad boy. You ever see a white one before?”

“It’s an albino, I guess.” Jamie says, leaning close to inspect it. He lifts the claw that’s tangled in their fishing line. “What a mess, we aren’t salvaging this.” He drops it back into the sand with a thud.

“The fuck’s an albino?” Butch asks as he cuts into their prize, grimacing and holding back a gag as he begins to butcher it. Mirelurk is good meat, but it reeks when it’s fresh.

“You know, like that one story Brotch made us read in like 8th grade, Moby Dick? It was about that sea captain and the giant albino whale.” Jamie snickers and walks the few paces back to their canoe. He flips it right-side-up with some effort and drags their valuables out of the muddy water, clicking his tongue in disappointment when he notices their bags are completely soaked through. “You’re lucky he didn’t eat your leg.” He teases.

Butch looks back at him and pouts, blowing a messy curl of his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah, I never read anything ol’ Brotch assigned. Waste of time. Like it would’ve taught me anything useful out here.” He grumbles.

Jamie laughs and drops their stuff next to a rock outcropping near their canoe. It looks like it would provide some decent shelter against the wind and by the looks of their soaking clothes and supplies, they’ll have to stay the night unless they want to catch hypothermia. “Maybe it could’ve taught ya how to catch a real fish.”

“It still counts as a catch!” Butch whines.

“It’s not a fish.” Jamie shoots back in a sing-song voice, biting his tongue to hold back the huge grin that threatens to break through. Butch jumps up from what he’s doing and turns to him, his face red, but mirroring the same smile that Jamie is trying so hard to hold back.

“It. Counts.” Butch grits between clenched teeth puts his combat knife away, buttoning the sheathe into place against his hip. They stare at each other for a moment, their eyes locked in a staring match. Jamie’s grin finally breaks free.

“Does no-“he cuts himself off with a yelp as Butch lunges for him playfully. He laughs so hard he thinks his chest might burst as he takes off in a run down the beach, Butch hot on his heels as he begins to chase him.

He knows Butch’s legs are much longer than his, but he can hold his own – at least for a little while. And even though the inevitable ending is Butch catching him in a tackle, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy it. It’s something they’ve done since they were boys stumbling around in the grey fluorescence of the vault, constantly finding their way back to each other like it was fate, and it feels like home.

[hoodoo12]

Ménage (1/13ish)

Based on a rp I’ve done with the insanely talented @monsterlovinghours , here’s 13 chapters + 2 supplemental stories featuring my Beetlejuice, her OC, and a surprise guest star . . .

 SFW and NSFW chapters, Beetlejuice/f!OC, smut, trespassers, violence, comfort and care

Enjoy!

@beetlewise-and-pennyjuice  @dilfyjuice @thewolfisapartofmysoul

~

The air felt charged, heavy with static and anticipation as she set the final pieces of her altar in place. Herbs to attract, to sanctify the space and make the veil between the living world and the next paper-thin, easily breached. Incense, to purify. Sigils to charge her magic, like amplifiers drawn in white chalk to channel and to cast. Lastly, she set three tapered candles in separate jars, evenly spaced, and lit them from right to left. First, the black candle, for grounding and focus. Then, the green, for good fortune in her endeavor. And finally, the white, for goodness and purity. There was no way the ritual could fail. Right?

Molly took a deep breath, in for three, and out for five. The incantation she had spent the entire day memorizing ran through her head, line by line; she knew it by heart, but even so, her heart wavered. There was no guarantee it would work the way she wanted to, or even work at all; magic was tricky that way, she had found. Spells of this magnitude were just a little beyond her pay grade; she had stuck mostly to kitchen magic, green magic, safe magic. Things to help her garden grow, to bring a sense of peace into her empty home.

 Empty.

She cleared her throat. Steeled her resolve. She had faith in her ability, and if there was anything her home needed, it was a good spirit to help fill it. Another deep breath, and the spell began to spill from her lips, palms placed flat upon the altar. The words filled the quiet space, gathering momentum, until the final syllable dropped like a guillotine, and the candles blew out, plunging the room into the darkness.

 Did it work?

As always, there was the bittersweet taste in his mouth and a pressure in his gut that made him want to curl up and stretch at the same time. He grimaced at first, but the sweet grew stronger than the bitter with each recitation of his name, and by third syllable of the third repeat, he felt like he could take on the world.

With an ecstatic laugh, Beetlejuice stepped out of the nowhere and into here, wherever here was. His amber eyes landed on the breather who'd been so kind as to call him.

"Baby, you have made my day!" he crowed, and swept towards her, arms open wide for a hug.

She screamed. She couldn't help it. The laugh was answer enough that her spell had worked, jarring and maybe just a little bit unhinged. Not the gentle chill or whisper that she had been expecting. And then, to see something so very solid and un-spiritlike come charging out of the darkness, arms open as its eyes and teeth glittered in equal measure? She scrambled backward, heart hammering in her chest. That was not the result she had been hoping to yield.

Pressed to the wall, she paused a moment, willing herself to settle down; there was no reason to believe she was in any immediate danger. After all, it had called her baby, seemed practically giddy to be here in her living room, and had approached her with gratitude. Very intimidating gratitude.

"Wh . . . who are you?"

Her heart still galloping in her chest, she fumbled for the light switch, flooding the room with light and getting a better look at her new houseguest. At first glances, yes, he seemed terrifying. But, as she looked closer, the less imposing he seemed. Tall, wearing a dingy, threadbare suit in garish black and white carnival stripes, chipped nails a dull black, his hair a mossy green.

"Are you . . . you're not a spirit, are you?"

"What is that, sage?" Beetlejuice asked the woman who was half cowering against the wall. "Smells good, baby, but not as good as you, I bet."

He winked and swooped in, giving her a hug that squeezed her arms to her sides. She was cute. To be polite, he should answer her questions.

"Am I a spirit?" he replied. "Like the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come? Nah. More like the Ghost with the Most. The spirit of here and now and let's have some fun, ya know? But first things first--you called me up. Who do I need to kill?"

Before she could reply that yes, that was sage, sage and lavender and palo santo and a host of other herbs, he had swept her up into a bone-crushing hug that nearly pushed the air out of her lungs. Her spine creaked in protest, groaning as the smell of him surrounded her, wet earth and moss and a hint of something sulphuric. Unusual, but not altogether unpleasant. And there was that pet name again; he certainly was a flirtatious . . . whatever he was.

Her eyes widened when she heard the word kill leave his mouth, and she frantically shook her head.

"No! No, no, no one, no one needs killing!"

Despite her arms being pinned, she did her best to grasp at him, managing to grab his hips and try to push him back just enough to allow her to take a full breath.

"Let's . . . whoa, okay, slow down a second. So you are a ghost? You seem pretty solid to me." The Ghost of Here and Now, he had called himself, and she didn't want to think about the kind of fun he was alluding to.

"And you don't have to call me baby. My name is Molly."

Her hands on his hips were a trigger to press into her more tightly. He couldn't help it; it just felt right.

He barely listened to her list of whatever ingredients she was talking about, but his ears perked up at the word "kill", only to realize that once again, that was off the table.  As to her other question, the one she seemed stuck on, he replied,

"Ghost, spirit, demon . . . Does that really matter? You called. I, uh, came. And I like calling you baby. If that doesn't vibe with you, there's always ‘baby girl.’ How's that for a compromise?"

He grinned at her, and tried not to show too many pointed teeth.

Now not only were his arms pinning her, his body was as well, crushing her against the wall. Okay. Wrong place to grab. Molly instead wriggled her arms up to press against his chest, hoping to push him back a hair so she could breathe.

"'Baby' is fine," she muttered in defeat; 'baby girl' was a realm she was not comfortable stepping into only knowing him for a minute and a half at most. "And no, I . . . I suppose it doesn't matter."

She sighed in defeat; the spell had done its job, and it wasn't her guest's fault she didn't specify exactly what kind of spirit she wanted.

"Can, um, can you let up a bit? I'm getting lightheaded."

Her gaze lifted to his face, noticing now that there were patches of green on his jaw and by his nose. Moss? Mold? Rot? Each possibility seemed more disturbing than the last. Yet, past the unidentifiable substances, he wasn't half-bad on the eyes. Eyes the color of honey, framed by dark lashes. Grinning lips that held a distinct purplish hue, and rather sharp teeth. Huh. Surprisingly enough, she wasn't afraid of his inhuman appearance, no small amount of fascination creeping into her gaze. Well, he may not be the spirit she had wanted, but she could be happy with what she got.

"Is there something I can call you?"

Her wiggling felt nice, until he remembered breathers needed to breathe, and he relaxed his grip. He only took half a step away, though, she was too warm to just let go!

"What to call me?" Beetlejuice mused, licking his teeth. "Honey or lover are good. Sweetheart. Love of my life! Don't laugh, but I'm a little partial to lambkins, even if it's from like the fifteenth century. "

He'd seen the slow interest growing in her eyes disappear like candy floss in water, and reined it in.

"You can call me BJ. Or Beej," he quickly amended. "So what made someone sweet as you call up someone like me?

Much needed oxygen filled her lungs as he took a half-step back, his arms still pressed around her. That was fine, as long as she could breathe. As it was, her hands were still on his chest, despite the sought-after distance. It was just . . . nice. Despite the lack of warmth or discernible heartbeat, it was nice to touch and be touched. When was the last time she had actually experienced deliberate touch?

Molly couldn't help it; at the offered pet names, she let out a short laugh.

"Sorry, wow, but lambkins?" She hadn't meant to laugh; it had slipped out before she could catch it, and for the first time since his arrival, she was able to slip into a small smile. "Beej is good. Or, y'know, I used to call people 'honey' all the time anyway. That's fine with me.

"Well," she started, nodding to what remained of her altar; she had accidentally kicked it as she had scrambled backward, knocking the candles and half the herbs to the floor, "I was attempting to summon a spirit that would be good for my home, a . . . calming presence. I don't think I did it right."

She sighed. "Still learning the big stuff. But you're here anyway, and honestly? It's just . . . it's nice to hear someone else's voice."

It may have been a trick of the light, but what could have been hope glinted in her eyes as she looked up at him. "So, I mean, even though you're not what I meant to summon, you're welcome to stay, if you'd like."

Beetlejuice smiled as she laughed, even at his expense. It had been a while since he'd spent time with a warm living person, and the fact that she hadn't actively pushed him away was nice. Nice enough that she was going to feel the effect she was having on the ol' Sandworm in his pants, if he couldn't will it away.

"You have a pretty voice," he told her, before shaking his head. "A calming spirit? Like a brownie, uh, house spirit or some kind of fey? What the hell for? Those things aren't calming, they're like goddamn raccoons on speed, getting into all your stuff. And if you invite them in, then piss them off?! They'll make your life a living hell, baby."

He stared off into the middle distance for a second, then gave himself a shake.

"So. Yeah. You're lucky you got me instead! You did a good job wrapping your tongue around those syllables . . . I bet it'd be good wrapped around other things too."

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Despite the alarming oddness of her current situation, the compliment caused a petal-pink blush to spread across her cheeks, eyes dropping as he admonished her against inviting spirits into her home. At least, the troublesome sort, of which she was not fully convinced he was not.

The pink quickly flushed to red at his very thinly veiled innuendo, choking on air at the insinuation and the suggestive arch of his brow.

"U-Uh . . . " She had nothing. Not a single response. Her brain short circuited at the thought. "Well, th-that . . . is not outside the realm of possibility, but . . . Jesus, I haven't even talked to another person face to face in almost two years. Let me get to know you a little better before I wrap my tongue around anything, huh?"

Her hands gave his chest a gentle pat, then dropped, indicating that she wanted to move from her spot against the wall. "Do you wanna go sit down? Personally I could use a drink. Do you drink? Can you drink?"

His eyes flicked from her lips to the color on her cheeks and back to her lips again, amused at her cute flustered stuttering.  The rest of it though; he pursed his own lips for a moment and cocked his head.

"You haven't spoken to anyone in almost two years? Did you take some vow of silence? Did talking to me break that vow, and--" he dropped his voice in a conspiratorial whisper, "--now you're going to hell? Let me tell you, it's totally worth it, minus the smell. All the demon dick or snatch you might want. Everybody swings both ways, sexually."

In case she wasn't one hundred percent sure what he meant, he released her and made two hand gestures, one to each side to give a visual demonstration. He glanced back up at her with a smirk before it came to him he may have overstepped a little, and he reeled it back in.

"But you know what? You've probably got your reasons," he said, waving the whole thing off.  "What've you got to drink? Absinthe? Gin? Corked wine? I'm not too picky."

With that, he finally backed away, spinning on his heel to investigate the room she'd called him too. He knelt and picked up a candle that had fallen to the ground, the green one, and twirled it between his fingers. He pinched some of the scattered plant material he found too, and sniffed it; to his disappointment it was not weed. Standing again, he righted all the candles and set the green one in its place.

"How'd you find my name, anyway?" he asked casually, lighting the green candle from the tip of his finger, and then extinguishing the flame  again. "Usually people pronounce it differently and, uh, get this shorter version. Of me."

He lit the candle again, then smashed the flame between his thumb and fingers peevishly, imagining it was the other guy's face. Suddenly, though, he whipped around to her.

"Where are my manners? What's your name, baby?" he asked, as if he'd been horribly rude.

The gesture made her flush deepen a shade, a strange knot forming low in her belly, and she shook her head.

"No . . . no, no vow of silence. It's . . . well, it's a long story, and I'd prefer to have liquor in me if I'm gonna unpack all of that." She took a deep breath, willing the burning in her cheeks to fade before starting for the kitchen. "I have strawberry whiskey. Pink as French whore but it kicks like a rifle. Or I have regular whiskey, but that's not as fun."

She quickly poured drinks, the familiar sound of ice crackling as she poured whiskey over it into two glasses helping her calm back down. Okay. She had a ghost in her living room. A very solid, very bold, and admittedly very handsome ghost. This was fine. This was good. This was basically what she wanted, and the fact that she could touch her guest? A perk.

She came back out with glasses in hand to find him at the altar, settling the candles back in place, lighting one only to snuff it out again. Apparently he can produce fire from his fingertips. Neat.

"Well . . . I had to do some digging, but . . ." She sighed and handed him his drink. "This is embarrassing. I searched for a spell that would attract a good spirit . . . to a lonely soul." She grimaced and jerked her thumb toward herself. "Three guesses who that is.

"And my name is Molly. Nice to official meet you, honey." With a smirk, even daring a wink at the suggested nickname, she sank onto the couch and indicated that he should do the same.

Beetlejuice accepted the glass and sniffed the pink liquid in it suspiciously.

"It's a nice color," he told her. "Matches that pretty blush of yours.”

It smelled like alcohol, with a faint top note of sweet, so he shrugged and threw it back.  The familiar burn of booze gave him faux warmth on its way down. Then the ice hit his teeth and it dawned on him people put ice in drinks that were to be sipped. Breathers and their weird social rules.

"Molly. Nice to meet you too, baby," he said, holding up his now empty glass in a toast. He sank onto the couch, like this was a proper social visit. "Lonely? A hot babe like you? I have a hard time believing that. But--"

He paused and dropped his gaze to the glass in his hand.

"--it's something I'm familiar with. That spell might've worked just fine, baby. Connected two lonely people. Brought 'em together."

That was a little more personal than he tended to get. He'd toss it off as an effect of the booze, if she asked, but one glass of whiskey wasn't enough to affect him. It was just her and the fact she called him.

He lifted his eyes to hers again, although he didn't pick up his head, gazing at her from slightly under his brows, slightly from the side.

"So, Molly, what were you hoping would come out of inviting a spirit into your place?"

Hot babe? She scoffed derisively, sipping her drink as he settled into the couch beside her. "Dunno what's hot about a social recluse with emotional baggage, but whatever you say, hon."

Her brow raised as he admitted that her spell might have worked better than she thought, that he was just as starved for company as she was. Did ghosts get lonely? Where were all the other dead people? Molly couldn't help a small smile, her heart feeling tugged toward him. When he cast his gaze at her, looking aside as if afraid to face her directly, she scooted closer, cross-legged on the couch facing him.

"Mostly I was hoping to feel less alone. I cut off contact with people for my own reasons, but that doesn’t keep me from getting lonely. I figured if not the living, try the dead." Gently, her touch feather light, she reached out and put a hand on his arm. "Honestly? I wasn't expecting to have a guest I could touch. So I'm glad I got you."

It was foreign to him why someone would purposefully choose to not be with people. That was a driving force in his existence; a need that was only marginally met, and usually only a fraction of the time he wanted it.

He lifted his head more properly and looked her over more fully. No matter how she scoffed her own personal opinion of herself, she was pretty.

Her shifting closer on the cushions and even going so far as to put one of her hands on him sent a thin electric jolt through him. He could even imagine the warmth of her palm seeping through his jacket sleeve.

"A guest you could touch, huh? Some beings can become corporeal, baby, but not all of them are willing to let humans touch them. You're lucky you didn't call something celestial," he said with a grin. "Luckily, I'm not one of them."

Her grin seemed to mirror his, though hers was decidedly less sharp.

"Honey, I'm still small time, I don’t think I have the juice to call something celestial."

Her hand rubbed his arm, noting the interesting texture of his suit, ragged and coarse. Already, the house felt less cavernous, less empty, less haunted with him here, and how was that for irony? It may take some adjusting, but she was looking forward to him staying here.

If he even intended to stay.

Her hand faltered a bit at the thought. No one stayed. That was the point. As if wrapped in iron bands, her chest suddenly felt tight, and she looked down as if noticing his empty glass for the first time.

"Let me top you off," she said quietly, taking the glass, the ice inside barely melted, since there was no body heat to warm the glass. "You wanna try regular whiskey this time or are we sticking with the pink stuff?"

The petting was nice. Even if it was to just feel the texture of his suit, he could imagine it was for him.

"Don't think you couldn't catch the attention of something celestial, baby," he told her sincerely, before dropping his voice as if maybe one of them was listening in. "Like demons, they're whores. Always looking for attention. But with their aversion to being touched by a human, they're more Dommy than anything else."

He threw her a wink, but his smile faded at her sudden change in demeanor. She'd become smaller, somehow, as she took his glass. Still, he couldn't help but try again.

"You can definitely top me, Molly," he replied as he gave up the glass, deliberately leaving any reference to drink out.

His bold joke made her somber expression break into laughter suddenly, a quick chuff as she hid pinked cheeks behind her hand. Molly pretended to scold him, though her eyes smiled, a grin twitching on her mouth.

 "Behave."

In the kitchen, she poured him a measure of the regular whiskey, which unfortunately was cheap. The plastic jug it came in sloshd half-empty as she filled his glass. His various suggestive comments and innuendos hadn’t gone unnoticed, or, frankly, unappreciated. The thought, ghost or not, made heat shiver down her spine, a feeling she was very unfamiliar with. But still, Molly remained doubtful that he could actually mean it. Sure, it was all fun and games until he figured out her story, understood the weight of the burden he'd be taking on with her.

Why was she even worrying about this? He was dead. What higher standard could he possibly have? Molly rolled her eyes and took a swig straight from the jug, grimacing at the bitterness. She'd spend all night in the kitchen fretting at this rate.

Refreshed drinks in hand, she settled back on the couch, in the same position as he before, her folded knees brushing his thigh. Her unoccupied hand reached for his, the chill of his flesh less of a shock now, with the warmth of the liquor in her blood.

 tbc

[dailyaudiobible]

11/24/2020 DAB Transcript

Ezekiel 47:1-48:35, 1 Peter 2:11-3:7, Psalms 119:49-64, Proverbs 28:12-13

Today is the 24th day of November welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian it is a great joy and deep comfort to be here with you around the Global Campfire as we take the next step forward in the Scriptures and take the next step forward in the year and toward the end of the year. So, we are reading from the New International Version this week. We have been camped out in the book of Ezekiel in the Old Testament for a while now. Today we will reach its conclusion and finish the book of Ezekiel. We are also in the New Testament working our way through first Peter. And, so, we’ll continue that journey when we get there. We’re reading from the New International Version this week. Ezekiel chapters 47 and 48.

Commentary:

Okay. In first Peter today we’re seeing glimpses of how to face marginalization and being sidelined and even being persecuted, how to resist that by not being what is being said. In other words, people are being stereotyped. The way to resist that is to not be that, to not be the stereotype. So, Peter’s writing to people who have fled marginalization and persecution, who are trying to find a place of peace to live out their faith in harmony and they have run. They are all over the place. This is one of the primary ways that the gospel of Jesus Christ spread around the Roman Empire, the known world of the time. But, you know, if you move to an a new place, a new city and you’re trying to get established and get a job and find a place to live and…and then there's this stereotype that gets…that…you get labeled…you get labeled something, then it becomes really, really difficult to navigate. And if you're labeled, “you’re part of a strange religious sect. Like if you hear that about anybody, “oh…they’re…they’re…they're part of a strange religious sect,” well, we really don't have any information whatsoever to go on other than it sounds really bad and negative. And, so, the stereotype is there, and that person is looked at a certain way. And, so, followers of Jesus were considered untrustworthy. They were considered really, really strange, religiously. Like the observance of the Eucharist or communion was…was considered very weird, like a very weird ritual to people who had no experience with it. Basically, it's…it's like it's not a secret that here in the United States…this has been a year of…of unrest as special…especially racial unrest in the exploration of systemic racism and the implications. And one thing that...well it still goes on today…but was much more prevalent in previous generations would be the use of the N-word. A derogatory word used at African American, black people - a label, a stereotype, a word that can be used to marginalize. We have to remember that people, early followers of Jesus, they were perceived as coming out of Judaism. Jews had been marginalized and persecuted and had been labeled for a long time at this point, and that continues in the world until this very day. So, like in some places to be called a Jew, that’s a bigoted label, like that's not a good thing. So, for people following Jesus to be called Christ followers or disciples of the Rabbi, Jesus, or Christians, this is the same kind of labeling that's going on. So, in…in a lot of ways what Peter's writing in what we read today is, “don't be that. If you’re going to be slandered or mischaracterized or stereotyped, then don't be that. Rise above that. Live your life higher. Raise the bar. Be better than that.” So, we see him like, “submit to the local authorities, submit to the national authorities, submit to your employers. Like, live what you say. Live the faith that you claim. Live it because if you're living it, then you will rise above the stereotype and show that there actually is a better way of navigating humanity because of Jesus making that better way of being in this world visible by resisting the stereotypes, by not receiving the labels, by being better than the labels. And, so, I quote Peter here as he kind of concludes some of…of…of his encouragement. “How is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and you endure the beating for doing wrong, but if you suffer for doing good and you endure it this is commendable before God. To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow in His steps.” And, so, that we’re on the same page, this is…Peter's not writing about things that might happen or that could happen or that may be on the distant horizon. He’s talking about…the letters written because these things are happening. And, so, he's counseling how to battle things that are happening and as it turns out it brilliantly, it's so perfect the way he turns the corner and helps us understand that these kinds of…kinds of marginalization's, these kinds of things even happen inside people's homes because maybe one spouse, here's the good news or maybe they both hear the good news, but one spouse believes, and the other one doesn't. And, so, I quote Peter again, “wives in the same way submit yourselves to your own husbands so that if any of them do not believe the word they may be won over without words, by the behavior of their wives,” right? Rising above the labeling. “They may be one over without words by the behavior of their wives when they see the purity and reverence of your lives. Husbands, in the same way be considerate as you live with your wives and treat them with respect as the weaker partner and as heirs with you of the gracious gift of life, so that nothing will hinder your prayers.” Yikes! What's that doing their in a discussion about how to behave in the face of being marginalized? Isn't it in our homes between our spouse and ourselves that we really actually do have to work out our own salvation with fear and trembling? like isn't that the ground zero for however we might go out into the world and resist by not being what we've been stereotyped as? Like doesn’t that have to start at home? Is there any other way to live out what Peter is talking about if it's not there, present in our home? And when Peter says about “hindering your prayers”, he’s speaking to husbands here. That doesn't mean it doesn't apply to both spouses, but husbands may we pay attention. Our homes are places where we…if it's a bad day and things aren't going well and well-worn paths that lead to terrible arguments are being walked down, well we can we can marginalize each other and diminish each other and hurt one another and suppress the voices of each other more dominantly and more awfully inside the walls of our house than we ever would outside. So, for this to…for this whole conversation to land back at home is something we ought to pay very very close attention to. “Husbands, in the same way be considerate as you live with your wives and treat them with respect as the weaker partner and as heirs with you of the gracious gift of life, so that nothing will hinder your prayers.”

Prayer:

Father we come into your presence. It would explain a lot. It would be like James saying, “how can you bless the Lord out of your mouth and curse your brothers and sisters who are made in His image out of the same mouth? Surely this isn’t right. Surely, this shouldn't be happening.” And, so, we are confronted with these things and once again you've landed some things in our lap that we cannot look away from. It won't help. And, so, we’re looking to you for guidance in the ways that we've marginalized each other beginning inside our homes and working outward from there. We read yesterday, “we are to be holy because you are holy”, which means we must rise above the stereotype. We must rise above being labeled. We must be the light of the world. And we have a ways to go, we confess. We are not where we should be, we confess. And it's easy enough to know that globally. It's easy enough to know that we are all part of something that has some work to do. Its way different when we understand inside of the four walls of our houses is where that work begins. Come Holy Spirit we need you now. We ask in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

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If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There’s as a link on the homepage. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, and all this, the Prayer Wall and everything is available in Daily Audio Bible app as well, but if you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if that’s your preference, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement there are a number of ways to reach out. You can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button up at the top or there are phone numbers you can use depending on where you are in the world. In the Americas 877-942-4253 is the number to call. If you are in the UK or Europe 44-20-3608-8078 is the number. And if you are in Australia or that part of the world 61-3-8820-5459 is a number to dial.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Good morning Daily Audio Bible this is Diane Olive Braun and Jeff my husband is here with me. It’s so wonderful the two of us listening together. I want to share with you something really special to me. I have been repenting a lot and things I thought that were really special were not pleasing to the Lord, mostly that I wasn’t taking time alone with Him and just focusing on other things more important than Him and I’ve been repenting and…and taking quality time each day. And because I hadn’t been giving special time to the Lord I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t sleep at night. And, so, one night I told the Lord I was so tired because I couldn’t sleep. And I said Lord I’m going to try for 5 or 10 minutes to sleep and I put on Brian’s album, Heart and I said if I don’t fall asleep in five minutes I will get up and clean the house. And, so, I put on his album, Heart and I laid my head on my pillow and three hours later I woke up refreshed and renewed and inspired. Thank you, thank you, thank you DAB community and Brian. Shalom, shalom…

Hi DAB family this is CS from SC. A close friend of mine’s son was in an accident earlier this week. He was driving and with his passenger, I believe his girlfriend, was killed in the accident. He’s been charged with…my friend’s sons been charged with vehicular homicide and driving under the influence. They were both college students both in their early 20s. I would just ask prayer for her family. This young man has…has made some bad choices now. He…he’s always been such a good kid, but he’s made some really bad choices at this point and it’s ended up with some horrific consequences for his girlfriend’s family. So, I would just ask prayer first for her family, for comfort and peace. I don’t know how you get through something like this. I just…I can’t imagine but I would also ask prayer for his family for my friend, just to know how to work through all the challenges that they’re going to have now, the legal battles. And, of course, there’ll be some incarceration I’m sure. So, anyway I would…would just ask that you be in prayer for both families, that they can see God’s will and everything that’s going on and just be there to comfort everybody that’s involved in this situation. Thanks, and have an excellent…

Good afternoon new DAB family God bless you all. Woman who called in in regard to ovarian cancer and her husband suffering from MS, I am believing and thanking God but first and foremost first and foremost for your total healing from the inside out, that every molecular cell that’s in your body is going to be eradicated. I am thanking God for the children that you have that has been helping you fight this. I know that this has been hard for you, but I also know that God is a God delivers and I am believing in His might. Susan from Osceola, Osceola Florida you know the way you’re thanking God in the midst of you losing your son and you yet you’re thanking God for all of the small blessings. Sister I bless you in the name of Jesus. You know that the Lord is going to heal your son Keith. I am so grateful that it’s…you’re in the season with Keith, that you have become so much closer but I am believing that nothing is too hard for the Lord. God bless you. Running Desperately Staying Connected to Jesus. I totally get it. You know when you say that you felt strong when you connected to your DAB family and when you disconnect that you seem weaker. I totally get that. That’s how I felt. You know in my dark seasons you know I felt like Moses you know without with Aaron and Joshua. I totally get it. God bless you. We are still praying for you and I’m praying and believing in your victory. Michaela from Gloucester. Beautiful beautiful song. You know how you’re meeting us in our darkness. That’s exactly what the Lord does. He meets us in our darkness. But I am telling you sister in the name of Jesus I am believing that the Lord will give us the strength to face our tomorrows and to do what’s in front of us because that is the God we serve. And knowing the name of Jesus He is gonna do the same for you in Jesus’ name. I love you. Esther from Orlando.

Thank you God for giving me everything I asked you freed me from my demons and my true self’s now unmasked time is running short now as they say this too shall pass I pray and thank you constantly and there’s not much that I ask the relationship that I have with you I pray will always last last is first and first is last a simple little verse but some men go from good to bad and some from bad to worse help me just be patient God and follow where you lead help me not be selfish Lord and consumed with pride and greed wherever two are gathered I know that you’ll be there keep my mind’s eye simple God and strip my ego bare make me in your image God I’m flesh but still I’m clay fill me with your spirit Lord and renew my strength each day one and one are usually two but you and I are one finish God the work in me you clearly have begun

blindtony1016@gmail.com. I’d like to give a shout out to Terry the Truck Driver and also Melisa. I hope you’re still hanging in there. Know that you are both in my prayers every day and very much loved and thought of and missed. And once again Brian and the Hardin family thank you for this wonderful podcast for God’s Holy Spirit flow keep it flowing y’all. All right. Bye-bye.

Hello, my dear DAB family this is Terry the Trucker calling this evening. It’s Saturday, November the 21st. Today we had a eulogy for my wife’s aunt Marilyn that passed away a few weeks ago just suddenly. It was not expected. This is also the birthday of my oldest stepson Mikey. Died in a car wreck at the age of 14. This is also the day that my wife when we left the church, she told me she had chills that she had a fever and wasn’t feeling right. We took her into the hospital. They tested her for the flu and been with my wife of 32 years. I’ve only known her to be sick one time out of 32 years and they suspect it’s the virus. I just ask you all to pray for my wife for my family and myself. I’m spending the night in my truck less than a block from the house. So, I know I’ve been exposed to her but why take the chance of spending the night if maybe I don’t have it. We’ll know in a couple days if she has the virus for sure but I ask you all to pray for me and I continue to pray for each and every one of y’all as I drive up and down these highways. Terry the Trucker.

[ao3feed-tododeku]

Deku of the Valley of the Wind

Deku of the Valley of the Wind by Poet PuffleHuff

After a thousand years of darkness, he will come, clad in blue and surrounded by fields of gold to restore mankind's connection of the Earth that was destroyed. And he will guide the people of this planet at last to a land of purity.

In a world where modern society collapsed and the human race is threatened by an ever-expanding toxic jungle filled with deadly spores and massive insects, a young orphan from the Valley of the Wind named Izuku struggles to find a way to ensure the safety and survival of the people he loves. But when neighboring kingdoms begin to wage war over a devastating weapon to burn the toxic jungle, the Valley of the Wind is caught up in the conflict between mankind and nature itself. Izuku now must fight to protect his home from both human and insect threats alike as he struggles to find balance and peace between the two worlds. A prophecy shall be fulfilled, a god of fire shall be reborn, and the secrets of the toxic jungle, as well as its deep connection to Izuku, will be revealed.

OR The BNHA Nausicaa AU I absolutely needed to write Based on the Ghibli Movie Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (though you don't have to watch it to understand)

Words 5476, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen, M/M, Other

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Iida Tenya, Uraraka Ochako, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Todoroki Touya, Gran Torino, Ashido Mina, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Other Character Tags to Be Added

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Iida Tenya & Midoriya Izuku & Uraraka Ochako, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku & Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Midoriya Izuku & Everyone, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, sorta - Freeform, Based on Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, Worldbuilding, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Parental Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Spoilers for Nausicaa, i guess

Read Here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/21573994

[daily-nikki]

Ch. 1, Pt. 6 | Purify the buds at the Brewing Workshop

After finishing Ch.1, Pt. 5 [Purify the buds at the Bubblebottom Field], Nikki has Purified the third bud and is on the search for the fourth one at the Brewing Workshop.

To track your progress and gain more rewards for completing the new main story quest line, you can use the new event page.

This post contains spoilers, pictures, commentary, and dialogue.

Nikki is on her way around Serenity Island, helping the Pieceys by Purifying buds held hostage by Esselings. From the Blossombloom Fields, Nikki needs to go north to the Brewing Workshop.

There she uses her new ability outfit to make a waterspout in order to reach where she is supposed to go. At the top of the stonetree is a warp spire. Past that is some new kind of Esselings that are attacking Lulu and Murmur. Nikki defeats these Esselings, which not only helps out her friends in need, but also releases to dew that she's going around a collecting to awaken the Heart of Spring.

⋯⋯ Dialogue ⋯⋯

Lulu: Holy one-and-only precious Cleansing Lotion! You're more agile than bubbles, and braver than Terra at bath time!

Lulu: Serenity Island's first-ever bottle of 8-in-1 Cleansing Lotion must go to you!

Murmur: That's great! And the bud has recovered too... Nikki, thank you!

Nikki: No need to thank me! But... the contamination was so bad here. Why did you risk coming?

Lulu: Ahem... it's my fault! I was in the final stages of perfecting my 8-in-1 Cleansing Lotion... just a tiny but more, and it would've been complete.

Lulu: Then, suddenly, a flash of inspiration hit me! I came up with the perfect solution... adding a bit of juice from the roots of Springblooms!

Momo: Can that even be used as a Cleansing Lotion ingredient?

Lulu: It was my passionate intuition as a gold-tier Ace Brewmaster!

Lulu: But those Esselings were so greedy... I barely took the tiniest bit of untainted juice, and they immediately zeroed in on me. Ugh! So frustrating!

Lulu: Then, as luck would have it, Murmur and Nikki appeared here as if by fate, shielding me heroically!

Murmur: That's so cool!

Murmur: Wait, Lulu! Why do you look like you're... contaminated...

Lulu: Huh? I do feel a bit different...

Nikki: Oh no! Did you get too close to the contaminated buds?

Murmur: Don't worry! I'll take you to the bathhouse and rinse it off with Rainbow Springwater right now...

Nikki: Wait...

↪ Tell the truth directly

Nikki: Murmur, the Rainbow Springwater Therapy isn't working.

Lulu & Murmur: What?!

Lulu: No way! This batch of 8-in-1 Cleansing Lotion is for Terra! She said it was to help the Rainbow Springwater Therapy!

Nikki: Terra didn't share this with everyone to avoid causing panic... but it's fine! She's planning to take everyone to Steamville for treatment. There's got to be a solution!

Nikki: Also, Terra entrusted us with purifying the buds. She hopes we can fix the Heart of Spring and repair the route between the two villages.

Lulu: This is really bad—worse than being good at something you don't like, worse than waiting for someone who will never come back!

Lulu: Ugh! I have to go. I'll pack up my Cleansing Lotion and go find Terra. Hmph! No matter what happens, she can't skip out on paying for the order!

Murmur: No wonder. That must be why Terra and Granny Bubbles are spending so much time together, having conversation in secret...

Murmur: Granny also blocked off the Thuddy Squash Cabin where the infected Pieceys are. She even personally delivers the brushes and bubble bath balls!

Murmur: Nikki... did Terra mention what to do if the Pieceys of Steamville can't find a solution either?

Nikki: Sorry, Murmur, and... I don't know either...

Nikki: Look, we've already resolved the bud contamination problem. There must be a way to cure the Dirty Thread Disease too!

Murmur: Nikki, I trust you! I'd like you to come somewhere with me... I have something very, very important to tell you.

Murmur: Please, you have to come...

⋯⋯ Dialogue ⋯⋯

Nikki: Murmur! The Pieceys here are...

Murmur: Nikki, Momo, thank you for coming. Everyone here is a friend of mine. They're all... Pieceys that refuse to take baths.

Nikki & Momo: The Rinse-Free Rebels?!

Murmur: Hmm... seems you've already heard about them.

Nikki: But, why are they refusing therapy? Doesn't Dirty Thread Disease terrify everyone on Serenity Island?

Murmur: Because... there are thing they don't want to forget.

Murmur: Did you know Dirty Thread Disease can cause "hallucinations"?

↪ Yes

Nikki: I think I heard Bootsie and Ash talking about it before. The affected Pieceys would say some really odd things.

Murmur: Right. The villagers dismiss them as mere "hallucinations," but the Rinse-Free Rebels believe they are glimpses of past memories resurfacing from the illness.

Murmur: They refuse the treatment because they don't want to lose those memories. They just want to remember more, even just a little more. That's... why they ran away.

Nikki: You believe them... don't you?

Murmur: Yes! i believe they are memories from a long, long time ago. I just don't know why we've all forgotten. They don't want to forget, and I just really want to help them...

Murmur: That's why I used my position at the bathhouse to help them escape and hide here temporarily.

Momo: Wait, so the last time we ran into you, was that because...

Murmur: Yeah... I took leave to help relocate a new infected Piecey. I feel so much guilt toward Granny Bubbles and Terra...

Murmur: Now that the Rainbow Springwater Therapy has failed, we have to take everyone to Steamville to find a new cure!

Murmur: Nikki, you're the human Terra entrusted with this task, and you can purify Esselings, just like the Guardian! Can you help try to persuade everyone?

Murmur: I'm afraid if we put it off more, it'll be too late...

Nikki: I see... I'll try talking to everyone.

Turns out that these "hallucinations" might actually be real past events that have happened and these Pieceys with Dirty Thread Disease are seeing them. I guess this goes along with the rewrite of the beginning where they might be remembering the "old" world that still exists somehow. I don't know. It's all confusing with the retcon because it wasn't explained very well what's going on with this idea. Maybe we should've had a whole season of Descent to kind of tie this all together. I digress. Let's keep moving.

Murmur is trying to relocate these Pieceys to another area to try a different treatment now that the old one has failed and left them with hallucinations. By the sounds of it though, these Pieceys really want to keep what they believe to be memories of a world past. It's up to Nikki to do the dirty work like usual, and go convince these Pieceys to move back Steamville. Nikki has to talk to each Piecey in the woods now. The first one I chose to talk to was Fuzzball.

⋯⋯ Dialogue ⋯⋯

Fuzzball: Raise a puppy, I want... to raise a puppy...

Momo: Huh, a puppy on Serenity Island. Do you mean that Puppy Piecey?

Fuzzball: Piecey? No. I mean an actual puppy! A fluffy one, the kind you won't find around here.

Fuzzball: A human, and a big cat, are you from somewhere else? I'm Fuzzball. Would you be able to get me a puppy?

Nikki: But all the puppies we've seen out there already have owners. It might not be possible to get you one...

Fuzzball: They've all got owners... that's nice. A puppy with an owner, and an owner with a puppy...

Fuzzball: I used to have a puppy too. It's only after I got sick... then my memory came back...

Fuzzball: It was a big, super fluffy one... with large, floppy ears and huge, round eyes, that would constantly gaze adoringly at Grandma and me...

Nikki: Did that happen on Serenity Island?

Fuzzball: Maybe, maybe not... I can't remember clearly...

Fuzzball: But I know back then, I wasn't like I am now. I didn't have Bubbleblooms, bath brushes, or stones. I only raised that puppy. I loved it the most, and it loved me the most.

Fuzzball: Every morning, when the sun was warm, I'd sit by the window while Grandma went to check the crops, watching the puppy roll around. It smelled even better than wheat waving in the summer sun.

Nikki: I was a beautiful time... And I bet time seemed to pass slowly back then.

Fuzzball: Hmm... Slowly, like it would never end.

Fuzzball: But then it grew old and stopped rolling around, and Grandma didn't have the energy to check the fields anymore... Turns out, "childhood" changes.

Nikki: Yes, the people we love grow old, the meals they cook get saltier, no one tends to the crops or flowers, and winter gets colder. The muddy stone paths turn into hard, gray roads...

Fuzzball: I... I miss them, but I can't remember the later parts... But i know, I want to raise a puppy again, just like I did back then.

↪ Comfort Fuzzball

Nikki: Don't worry, Fuzzball, once you're healthy again, you'll find your own new puppy.

Momo: There are so many puppies out there, you'll find the one you need... the one that needs you too.

Fuzzball: But... but we can't leave Serenity Island! I don't know how to explain it, but we just can't leave!

Nikki: Even though you don't know why, if you aren't able to leave, maybe we can help you find a puppy. We'll find you one that's just like the one in your memory.

Fuzzball: Yeah... Yeah... but if I wash in the Rainbow Springwater and forget what my puppy looks like, what then?

Nikki: Hmm.... I know! You can draw your puppy now, and then you won't forget.

Fuzzball drew the puppy from his memory....

Fuzzball: Oh... that's a great idea. and I have to get healthy first before i can take care of a puppy.

Nikki: Yes! Once everything's ready, we'll go back to the village together!

Alright, well that got pretty dark there with Fuzzball. Hopefully Nikki can help them out. Next, Nikki talked to High-Flying Hannah.

⋯⋯ Dialogue ⋯⋯

High-Flying Hannah: Flying high... it turns out that I moved along with the wind, gathering everyone's words in my heart...

Nikki: Flying? Like bubbles flying high up into the air?

High-Flying Hannah: How did you know? I love flying through the air with the bubbles... It's because of this that everyone calls me "High-Flying" Hannah.

High-Flying Hannah: As i fly through the air, the breeze feels refreshing, the bubbles are so clear, and if there's another Piecey chatting with me, it's perfect.

↪ Curious

Nikki: What do you enjoy about chatting while floating? When I float, I'm either focusing on where to land or admiring the view, so I don't really think of talking.

High-Flying Hannah: I didn't always know either. I just felt without the sound of talking, it was too quiet. It felt so empty... and lonely.

High-Flying Hannah: But now I understand! It's because I used to live on the window of a family's home, listening to all their secrets and stories...

High-Flying Hannah: The mother of that family had a loud, lively voice. She loved talking about her sister, the village patrol officer, who always carried a wrench and a hoe to help keep the village peaceful.

High-Flying Hannah: That wrench was borrowed from their house, and it was the mother's proudest story to tell.

High-Flying Hannah: The father was quiet and reserved, but he was amazing at sewing. Their child had a Bowtie Cat that loved to use me as a scratching post, and the father would carefully mend my threads.

Nikki: What a loving family...

Momo: So... you were once a set of curtains, weren't you?

High-Flying Hannah: That's right! ... Yes! It was only after getting this illness that I remembered my past, how the sun made me feel warm and cozy, how the rain soaked me through. Year after year, that family always wished for peace and happiness...

High-Flying Hannah: It turns out that's why I was brought into existence! Now, every time I flutter and fly, thinking about them fills me with such joy.

↪ Comfort High-Flying Hannah

Nikki: Those memories are truly beautiful... In the future, maybe we can float together and chat. I'll remind you of everything you've shared with me today!

High-Flying Hannah: Really? Thank you, you're such a kind girl with a kind heart as clear as a bubble.

High-Flying Hannah: I didn't want to forget, so I avoided the bath. But now, my body feels heavier with each passing moment. I can barely float...

High-Flying Hannah: Maybe it's time to return to Soakville... Only by washing away the stains can I live more lightly.

Nikki: Great! When everyone's ready, we'll go back together. I look forward to when you can fly freely and enjoy the beauty of life again...

What a beautiful story. Moving on, Nikki talks to Hoohoo.

⋯⋯ Dialogue ⋯⋯

Hoohoo: Hoo... Hoohoo... Mommy... Hoohoo!

Nikki: Hoohoo?

Hoohoo: Hoohoo! Yes, my name is Hoohoo. But, do you know why my name is Hoohoo?

↪ Guess the reason

Nikki: Is it... because you like owls? Hoohoo, hoohoo... That's the sound an owl makes!

Hoohoo: No, it's really not! At first, I thought that was the reason too.

Hoohoo: A long time ago, when I woke up on the island, along with everyone else, I heard a voice saying "Hoohoo, Hoohoo..." So I decided to call myself Hoohoo.

Hoohoo: Recently, I got really sick. i became super dirty and I was feeling bad all the time. But then I remembered something important... Something very important!

Hoohoo: It was my mommy that always said "Hoohoo, Hoohoo."

Nikki: So why did she say it?

Hoohoo: It's because I'm very afraid of pain... Every time I got hurt, scratched, or cried out in pain, my mommy would comfort me and say, "It's okay, let me blow on the wound and you'll be fine, *hoohoo*."

Nikki: And it worked? Your mother's comfort sounds very effective.

Hoohoo: Yes! Super effective. When i don't feel well nowadays, I also do that to myself, and it makes me feel much better.

Nikki: Why don't you go back to Soakville to get treated? Terra and Granny Bubbles must have a way to relieve your pain!

Hoohoo: No! I'm afraid if I stop feeling the pain, I might forget all about my mommy.

Hoohoo: I can still remember a little bit of her. If it hurts a little longer, maybe I'll remember more about her.

Hoohoo: What does my mommy look like? Where did she go?... I really want to know!

↪ Comfort Hoohoo

Nikki: It's okay, even if the pain goes away, you'll still remember your mother.

Hoohoo: Really? But, then... how come I never remembered her before?

Nikki: I think it must be your mother's intention. Since she couldn't be with you right now, she didn't want you to worry about her all the time. That would be too difficult for you.

Nikki: But now you remember, and you won't ever forget again! I'll help make sure you remember her. This way, even if you forget, I'll remind you.

Nikki: Once everyone is ready, let's go back to the village together, okay? Terra will take everyone in for treatment, and when you're no longer in pain, your mother can stop worrying.

Hoohoo: Of course! Thank you, Nikki! I'll be really good. That way Mommy doesn't have to worry at all!

Nikki has gotta help these Pieceys out. Hoohoo here thinks that they have to be a masochist in order to remember their mother.

After Nikki has convinced all of the Pieceys gathered here to move on, she goes back to Murmur.

⋯⋯ Dialogue ⋯⋯

Murmur: Nikki, thanks to you, everyone has agreed to go back to the village for treatment. It's great...

Nikki: No problem! Don't worry too much, Murmur, as long as we get everyone to Steamville in time, everything will be fine.

Murmur: Hmm... It's all my fault, I shouldn't have taken control and hidden everyone here.

Murmur: I thought once everyone remembered enough, there'd still be time for a proper bath. I even prepared bathing brushes and Cleansing Lotion. I just wanted to help!

Murmur: But... but I never expected the Rainbow Sprinwater Therapy to stop working! If we had waited until everyone's symptoms got worse, it would have been too late...

Murmur: It's all my fault, I was overconfident...

↪ Express Understanding

Nikki: Actually, after talking to the Rinse-Free Rebels, I think I can understand your feelings...

Nikki: The fragments everyone remembers, even if they may just be hallucinations, really are beautiful and important... things we definitely wouldn't want to forget!

Nikki: You must have been moved by these memories. Is that why you wanted to help them?

Murmur: Yes... And I... I don't believe they're hallucinations, I think they're real memories!

Murmur: Maybe, being close to contamination helps us remember the past, just like... how I did before.

Nikki: Is it about the collapse of the Crystal Salt cavern? I heard Bootsie mention that you were scared...

Murmur: Yeah...

Murmur: Back when it happened, I got lost and ended up in a place full of Esselings. I ran and ran, stumbling all the way, and finally made it back to the village.

Murmur: When I woke up, everything was different. Not the village, not the Serenity Island... it was me! I was different!

Nikki: Did... did you remember something, like they did?

Murmur: Yes, I remember some images. Some fragments... a mended piece of clothing, a beautiful ornament, a warm embrace, and... a group of very, very important people.

Murmur: Wait, that wasn't how it all began!

Nikki: Then what did happen.. at the start?

Murmur: At first, I was in great pain. I was exhausted, and heartbroken, all alone, and walking on a rugged road.

Murmur: Along the way, there was war, fire, and terrifying Esselings. It was so scary, but I pretended... that I wasn't scared at all. i was carrying a heavy bag, almost unable to move...

Nikki: Murmur, are you alright?

Murmur: I'm fine. Back then, I was found by some people... and I felt... so warm. Or maybe, I found them?

Murmur: I just knew that I could finally rest. I was so tired. I cried my eyes out, and as I cried, I fell asleep...

Murmur: I'm sorry! What I'm saying.... must sound so strange.

Nikki: Maybe a little, but these images must be very important to you. That's why you want to help the Rinse-Free Rebels who had similar experiences!

Murmur: Right... But what's different is, I didn't get the Dirty Thread Disease back then. And since the great outbreak of the disease on Serenity Island, no one else has been affected by it, until recently...

Nikki: That is strange, and no one knows the source of the disease.

Murmur: Once the Heart of Spring is restored, I'll go to Steamville with everyone, to help take care of them, and I'll also try to investigate the disease.

Momo: That's a great idea!

Nikki: I've already purified the four contaminated buds, so the Heart of Spring she be restored soon!

Murmur: That's great! I'll go apologize to Terra now and tell her about the Rinse-Free Rebels. Thank you, Nikki... See you later!

Murmur had a super depressing memory, heard these other Pieceys' depressing memories, wanted to help them keep them, and ending up possibly helping to spread a disease. We don't know yet. That's what the trip to Steamville will probably help us figure out.

That ends this quest and starts the last quest of Chapter 1: Land of Peace and Purity - Return to Purity.

[enraged-chihuahua]

Reality Rift Book 3: Shifting Beyond Chapter 4: A Time After (Part 1)

After KC returned to the mansion with peace restored to the land once again, he decided to only megashift when there were cases of apocalyptic monsters. And from then on, the team discovered new worlds to explore and friends to play with, there was no place better than the rift. Frag kept his promise and left, Snakey and Aryum are still together forever, Socialkitty’s children have started making their own adventures with other young creatures, and so on. Purity often looks upon the team and smiles an invisible smile, knowing what good they have done for the land.

However, there was an odd possibility that existed concerning the Cubecats.

You see, they carved stories, myths, and legends into the clay walls of their houses. These legends sometimes depicted monsters and Cubecats having battles and then forming friendships. Footnotes of some stories reveal something familiar:

“I have seen the light, and it blinds me, and I see it as pure no more.”

“The horned beast tempts me with an offer in which I give into, as it nourishes me.”

“Could four arms help one when their friends are gone?”

“The cursed child is blessed by the holy demon.”

“The serpent and the demon reunite, and they shall stay together, no matter their luck or the ones from beyond’s visions of the symbols they are for terror and sin.”

“One from beyond is brought forth, off to kill the unkillable with its smallest arrow…”

“The angel does nothing and his brother becomes a hero.”

“The final breath of a warrior begins a new era.”

Many carvings reveal a horned entity and a lizard-esque being together, some with what appears to be a human with horns, and some with a Cubecat with a tiny inscription on its chest stating “May my time here be blessed by the folk” and a small, rotund creature with the head if a cubecat with its eyes closed has been depicted alongside the Cubecat occasionally. There are even a few stories where a tall figure with X-eyes, large ears, and a bobbed tail stands by the Cubecat. Small, random facts are often written beside this being, sometimes important dates are written alongside the facts or just on their own.

[emospritelet]

Key to the Cell - chapter 6

Gaston is a tool of the highest order in this chapter by the way.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [AO3 link]

x

By the time Belle had finished the book on the Dark One and read the first few chapters of the curse-breaking book, it was early evening, and she was hungry. She stuffed the books under her pillows and rang the bell for one of the maids, announcing that her headache had gone and requesting help with her dress. The maid brought her something to eat, too. It was too late for luncheon, and dinner would be prepared as soon as the men returned from the hunt, so she ate a small sandwich and drank two cups of tea, after which she felt much better. She checked her hair in the mirror, and grasped her parasol before making her way downstairs. She needed to think, and a stroll in the fresh air would do her good.

The sun was beginning to set as she went out into the gardens, the drone of bees coming from the flowers as they made the most of the fading light.  Pinkish clouds striped the horizon where the sky was turning orange, and Belle heaved a breath of perfumed air as she walked slowly between the flowerbeds. Gaston’s estate had delightful gardens, but she suspected that had more to do with his desire to show off his wealth and status than his own appreciation of them. Certainly on the few occasions when they had walked there and she had commented on the plants and flowers, he had seemed less than interested. She smiled to the gardeners gathering up their tools as she passed, the parasol keeping the setting sun from her face.

The book on the Dark One had been fascinating, but she still didn’t know his true name, and the fact was galling. It had said that the Dark One had been around for centuries, perhaps thousands of years, but that his form changed, the title and its powers passing with the help of a mystical dagger. Belle suspected that it was the dagger with the fluted blade she had seen illustrated in the book she had used to summon him. She wondered if he had it, or if that too had been taken from him. The book hypothesised that the Dark One passed on his powers through some sort of dark ritual, that all those who sought to possess the power were dark wizards of great strength and evil. Belle wasn’t sure how true that was; he had not seemed so terrible to her, after all, but she supposed he would not be called the Dark One for nothing.

There was little known about who the various Dark Ones were before they took his form; the current holder of the powers was rumoured to be able to change his appearance at will, after all. Belle wondered at him describing himself as revolting; if he could change his face, why had he chosen to show her one he appeared to loathe? Overall he was a puzzle, and she was highly intrigued. She only wished there was a way she could speak to him again before their agreed meeting the day before the wedding. There was no guarantee that, having kept his side of the bargain, she would ever see him again.

The distant noise of barking dogs made her glance around, and she saw the hunt returning across the fields to the south of the castle, Gaston’s huge bay stallion at its head. Some way behind him, her father was trotting along with Gaston’s hunt master, and the beaters and kennel-keepers followed on foot, the hounds weaving in and out with tails held high. Belle could see the bodies of two deer slumped across the horses, and several of the men carried hessian sacks over their shoulders, no doubt full of game. Sighing to herself at having to leave the peace of the gardens, she made her way down towards the gatehouse to greet them.

The party had split by the time she reached it: hounds and horses gone to the kennels and stables and the servants to the kitchens. Gaston and Maurice had just dismounted as she entered the courtyard, the horses’ hooves ringing on the cobbles as they were led away. The air was heavy with the scent of dogs and horses, of sweat and blood, and Belle felt a little queasy.

“Ah, here she is!” announced Gaston, in his booming voice. “Belle, my dear! A successful hunt! We’ll eat until we burst tonight, eh Maurice?”

He burst out laughing and tossed a bag towards her. It fell open as it hit the ground, two dead pheasants rolling out, heads lolling. Blood spattered the cobbles, and Belle took a step back, trying to ignore the pheasants’ sightless stare. She met Gaston’s eyes, raising her chin.

“I’d like to talk to you about something, Sir Gaston,” she said. “Would you take a walk with me in the gardens?”

Gaston folded large arms across his chest, breathing in as he looked her up and down very deliberately.

“So polite and formal, my wife to be,” he said agreeably. “The picture of innocence and purity, waiting patiently for me to return. You’ve done well with her, Maurice. Very well indeed.”

Belle’s mouth thinned, but she said nothing as her father chuckled and made some comment about her taking after her mother. She waited, hands folded at her waist, and after a moment Gaston slapped Maurice’s shoulder, making him stagger, and strode towards her. She took a step back, struck by how large he was. He over-topped her by a good eighteen inches, and was twice as broad across the shoulders. She wondered what had made her think of it; it wasn’t as though they were meeting for the first time. No doubt most women would find his size and strength appealing, but it had only ever had the effect of making her dread the wedding night. Gaston grinned at her, showing very white, even teeth.

“To the gardens, my Lady,” he said, offering his arm.

After a moment she put her hand on his thick forearm, allowing him to guide her. She could feel his sweat beneath her palm, dust from the ride sticking to her fingers. It made her want to pull her hand away, but she kept her face smooth, maintaining a steady pace as they made their way towards the gardens.

“I went into town today,” she said. “I met a beggar woman there.”

“I’ve told the Watch to clear the beggars out,” he said. “Leave it to me, you won’t be bothered again.”

Belle frowned.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she said. “Her name was Gerta. She said she owned a smallholding by the river. She said she and other smallholders had been turned off their land and that it had been given to the brewers for grain. She called it the clearances.”

“Oh.” Gaston waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, I remember. This is what I suggested for some of your lands, when we join them to mine. It’s been a success here.”

“She said her husband was killed.”

“Well, some of them put up a fight,” he said. “My men had to defend themselves.”

“Were any of your men killed?”

Gaston burst out laughing.

“Against a bunch of poor farmers? Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Then they were hardly in danger, were they?”

He glanced at her, brows drawing down into a scowl as he realised she was arguing the point with him.

“I can’t have peasants thinking they can just disobey my decisions without consequence,” he said, sounding petulant. “It’s not like they weren’t given notice to go.”

“Where would they go?” she demanded. “You took all they had!”

“Just goes to show their way of life would never turn a profit, then, doesn’t it?” he said. “We’re producing far more grain on those lands now. More efficient. Those little strip farms produce almost nothing.”

“Well, Gerta certainly has nothing now, she and her children are begging on the streets!” said Belle. “I told her to come to the castle and I’d give her work.”

Gaston turned to face her, his expression incredulous.

“You can’t give every waif and stray a job, Belle!”

“There’s more than enough work here,” said Belle obstinately. “If you hadn’t made her homeless it wouldn’t be necessary.”

“I can’t be held responsible for every penniless whore in the kingdom!”

“You are responsible,” she snapped. “You’re the lord of the land! And these will be my people too, and I can’t stand by and watch while they starve!”

“Belle…” He shook his head, putting his hands on his hips. “Don’t be so naive. This is how the world works. Weeding out the weak is what keeps our people strong. It’s like breeding horses. You must understand that.”

“These are people!” she said hotly. “Not - not livestock!”

“And why do we keep them here on our lands?” he asked, as though teaching a rather stupid child. “To work the fields and clean up after us and fight in our wars. They can’t do any of that if they let themselves starve, can they? What use are they to us if they can’t look after themselves?”

“How can you be so callous?” she demanded, throwing up her hands, and he sighed, grumbling a little.

“Well, if you’re going to be hysterical about it, I see no reason to discuss it further,” he said coldly. “Come inside. Save your energy for the ball.”

Belle drew herself up to her full, rather unimpressive height, lifting her chin.

“I won’t attend a ball with someone who thinks so little of other people!” she snapped. “I won’t stand there and smile and laugh and pretend your values are the same as mine, Gaston, I won’t do it!”

He seemed to swell before her eyes, eyes darkening, face grown ugly with rage, and he seized her by the upper arms, his grip tight and painful enough to make Belle let out a cry.

“You think you can make a fool of me in front of all the nobility of the kingdom?” he spat. “You think I’d stand to be shamed in my own castle by a - a girl? Your father already promised me your hand, and I will have it, Belle! I will have you for my own and I will have your obedience, do you hear me?”

“If you expect me to just ignore the suffering of—”

“I expect your loyalty!” he said roughly, shaking her, and Belle tried to pull away, tears pricking her eyes as his fingers dug into her upper arms. Gaston tugged her closer, leaning in until his nose almost brushed hers. The stench of sweat and blood from him was almost overwhelming.

“You will attend the ball on my arm, Belle,” he said, through his teeth. “And you will smile, and you will dance, and you will show everyone how lucky you are to be marrying the most eligible man outside the King’s palace, do you hear me? Or by all the gods I’ll make those peasants wish they’d never been born, do you understand?”

He shook her again, and Belle squeaked in alarm, nodding swiftly in the hope that he would let her go.

“Tell me you understand!”

“Yes!” she squeaked, hating the sound of her voice, the fear in it.

“Yes what?”

“I - I understand,” she stammered, and he exhaled, relaxing his grip a little.

“Good,” he said, more calmly. “That’s all I want. A faithful, dutiful wife. A beautiful woman to support me and to bear my sons. That’s what your father promised me, and that’s what you’ll be. Isn’t it, Belle?”

She couldn’t speak, her body frozen with fear, and he bent to kiss her, his mouth rough and wet against hers, tongue pushing into her mouth. Her eyes flew wide at the intrusion, but she couldn’t seem to move, to push him away. When he pulled back there was saliva on her chin, and she was shaking with shock and terror. Gaston was breathing heavily, and released her arms, taking a step back from her.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, and strode off towards the castle, leaving her standing frozen in place, as though his hands still held her captive.

x

Belle wasn’t sure how she managed to get back to her room, but once she was there she rang the bell for one of the maids and stood in front of the standing mirror, still trembing. Turning this way and that, she winced as she saw red marks on her arms where Gaston had grabbed her. For a moment she thought about trying to hide them, but then shook her head at her reflection, raising her chin. She would let her father see the marks. Perhaps there was a way out, even now. Maurice had not accepted any of her objections to the match before, but if she showed him evidence that Gaston had hurt her…

Marilee noticed her bruises immediately, of course, but to her credit, she didn't comment on them. She dressed Belle in blue silk, the colour making her skin seem even paler, the bruises more pronounced.

"Would you care for a shawl, milady?" she asked.

"I would not," said Belle shortly. "Is my father dressed?"

"I believe he's in the library."

"Good. You can just tidy my hair, I don't need it restyled."

"Very good, milady."

Marilee smoothed her hair where it was needed, re-pinning the strands that had come loose, and Belle nodded her thanks. The maid seemed to hesitate before she left.

"Best to give him what he wants, milady," she said eventually. "Easier on you. Easier on all of us. Her Ladyship worked that out long ago."

She left without another word, and Belle glared at her reflection in the mirror, seeing spots of colour bloom in her cheeks to match the marks on her upper arms. So. No help from the servants, it seems.

She pushed back, heading downstairs to the library. Maurice was looking through a large book filled with pictures of exotic birds and animals, and he glanced up with a smile as Belle strode up to him.

“I can’t marry this man, Papa,” she said resolutely. “I can’t do it.”

Maurice closed the book with a sigh, glancing across at her and looking uncomfortable.

“Now, Belle, we talked about this—”

“He hurt me!” she went on. “Look! See those marks? That was him!”

“Gaston told me what happened,” said Maurice gently. “The two of you had a lovers’ tiff and he got angry.”

“It wasn’t a lovers’ tiff!”

“He’s a big man, Belle,” he went on. “He doesn’t know his own strength. He feels terrible that he might have hurt you, he told me so.”

“Well, if he feels so bad, why didn’t he apologise to me?”

“I’m sure he will,” said Maurice soothingly. “You’ll see him at dinner, and this can all be smoothed over, I’m sure of it. It’s just pre-wedding nerves.”

“But - but I don’t want to marry him!” said Belle desperately. “Why can’t I marry for love?”

“When you show no interest whatsoever in the eligible men you’re introduced to?” said Maurice, his tone short. “I think not. You will marry for the good of our family, as I had to. As every noblewoman in this land has had to. Gaston is not a monster. He’s a fine, healthy, handsome fellow, and he’s extremely rich. Any woman would be lucky to call him husband.”

“Then maybe you should marry him.”

“That’s enough!” snapped Maurice, wagging a finger. “I sometimes think I give you too much licence to speak your mind, my girl!”

“Oh yes, may all the gods save us from a woman with an opinion!”

“One more word out of you and you’ll be eating dinner in your rooms alone!”

“Good!” snapped Belle. “At least then I can be assured of pleasant company!”

She stomped out before Maurice could retort, skirts swishing around her legs, and headed for her room, slamming the door shut once she was inside. Irritation made her pace back and forth before the fire, and eventually she strode to the tall windows, opening them out and stepping out onto the stone balcony to breathe in the cold night air in an attempt to calm herself.

The sun was fully set, the sky a rich, deep blue, scattered with stars. Belle leaned on the stone balustrade and gazed upwards.

“Gods, let me out of this marriage!” she whispered.

The stars twinkled at her, bright points of light in the darkness. One of them had a bluish tint to it, and Belle blinked as it grew larger. She pushed up straight, palms pressed against the cold stone, and her mouth opened in surprise as the blue light became a small figure, glittering in the dark. A fairy, wings fluttering behind her. She had dark curls, pinned up on top of her head, and was pale-skinned and pretty, a wand held in one small hand with a blue light shining at its tip. She was smiling at Belle, white-stockings covering slim legs hanging in the air beneath the wide skirt of a sparkling blue dress.

“Lady Belle of the Marchlands,” she said, her voice sweet and melodious. “I’ve been waiting to meet you.”

“You have?” Belle took a step back, unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t as though they could shake hands. “Forgive me, I’ve never met a fairy before. I’m not too sure of the etiquette.”

She dipped a curtsy anyway, and the fairy bowed her head in acknowledgement.

“I’m the Blue Fairy,” she said. “Head of the Enchanted Forest Order of Fairies."

So this is the Blue Fairy? She's not what I expected.

"I don’t believe you were ever assigned a fairy godmother, is that right?” asked the Blue Fairy.

“Not - not as far as I know,” said Belle. “Is that unusual?”

“Most noble children receive our protection and guidance, but our numbers are limited,” said the Fairy. “Decisions must be made about the best use of our resources. Yours is a minor House, is it not?”

Belle felt her mouth thin. It was true that her House was somewhat diminished from what it had been in her great-grandfather’s day; the lack of sons over the past three generations and King’s wars had not helped matters. She still had pride in her ancient family name, though, and resented the implication that she had not been worth bothering with as far as the Fairies were concerned.

“So why have you come to me now?” she asked, and the Blue Fairy smiled, gently stroking the wand across her palm.

“I sense that you are not reconciled to your coming marriage,” she said pleasantly. “It’s customary for brides to be nervous, of course, but I thought I might be able to help give you some comfort.”

“It would certainly comfort me if you tell me I do not have to marry Sir Gaston,” said Belle.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Belle sighed, shoulders slumping.

“Then I foresee little comfort in this encounter.”

“This marriage is the right step,” persisted the Fairy.

“For whom?” asked Belle. “For the man who has a - a heartless disdain for his own people? For the man who - who left bruises on my arms when I dared to contradict him?”

The Fairy sighed, fingering her wand and making the light at its tip bounce and weave.

“He is a crude and rough man, to be sure,” she said.  “But his is a noble House, and you could teach him to be better.  Teach him to be more gentle, more kind.”

“Is that certain?” asked Belle, with some scepticism.

“There are no certainties in matters of the heart.”

“In which case it sounds like unnecessary suffering on my part.”

“You must have faith,” said the Fairy, beaming at her.

“And if all I get for my efforts is abuse and violence, what then?”

“Sacrifice for the greater good is the mark of a true hero,” said the Fairy, smiling serenely. “I see the need in you for adventure, Lady Belle. But there are different kinds of adventures in this life. Different challenges that women can face. Helping your husband to be a better man takes patience and courage. Is that not a heroic thing to aspire to?”

“And what of my own dreams?” asked Belle. “My desire to see the world, to travel, to study…”

“That may come, in its own time.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Think of the greater good,” persisted the Fairy. “If you can change this man, think of how many lives could be bettered by it! Think of what you can teach your children, how they in turn may influence their father for good.”

“So it’s not just me that would be expected to teach him how to be a decent person, but also our children?” said Belle flatly. “Where is his responsibility in all this?”

“In order to change, one must first face their own faults.”

“Gaston doesn’t believe he has any,” said Belle. “He never has. Marrying me wouldn’t change that.”

“You may be surprised at what a kind influence can accomplish.”

“In that case, why have the Fairies not sought to influence him before now?” asked Belle. “Surely his parents should have been given this talk?”

“We watched over him as a boy, and his mother raised him with love,” said the Fairy. “We did not anticipate that his own pride and selfishness would win out over her gentle nature.”

Belle sighed, and the Fairy flew a little closer.

“For better or worse, Lady Belle, you will marry Sir Gaston,” she said. “If it helps you to reconcile yourself to the fact, try to think of the needs of others before your own.”

Belle wanted to bristle at that, but said nothing.

“And this is my fate?” she asked. “To wed this - beast?”

“Think of it as an opportunity to save him,” said the Fairy soothingly. “True love can conquer all darkness.”

“And who decides on who is worth saving and who is irredeemable?” asked Belle. “If love can conquer darkness, why do I see so much evil in this land? So much - callous disregard for the suffering of others?”

“Pain is part of life,” said the Fairy.

“Only for some, it seems to me.”

“Everything happens for a reason, Lady Belle,” she said. “You must trust in the light winning against the darkness. We all must play our part.”

Belle frowned as she remembered something from her reading.

“True love,” she said slowly. “They say it’s the most powerful magic of all.”

“Oh yes!” said the Fairy, smiling widely. “Powerful enough to break any curse. To melt even the hardest heart and fill it with love. Imagine all you could do with that love.”

Belle smiled to herself, and nodded briefly.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“I’ll see you again very soon,” the Fairy assured her. “I’ll attend on your wedding day to bless the union.”

Belle bowed her head, not trusting herself to give a response that would sound genuine, and when she raised her eyes again, the Fairy had gone. She frowned at the empty, darkened sky. Save Gaston from himself, indeed!

Turning around, she went back inside, closing the windows after her and drawing the curtains across. It appeared that everyone from her father to the Blue Fairy expected her to marry Gaston. Only the Dark One had promised her a way out, and by the gods she was going to take it!

[msephy]

Upbringing chap 12/13

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11

Cross-posted to AO3

Earth 53 - Jason Todd

The climb to Nanda Parbat was even harder than the one to Ra’s al Ghul’s stronghold and Jason could only feel relief at them being so close. Was it a coincidence or had Ra’s been looking for the place? Coincidences were rare, where he was concerned.

Only a small group accompanied them: five bodyguards and, of course, Bruce. Jason counted on Talia to insure Damian would get back to Gotham or, at least away from the League. The brat himself might be able to elude her if she tried to bring him anywhere else.

Besides, he was wearing his gear from the Cave. Knowing Bruce, several pieces had to be bugged. They’d find him alright – if they managed to get away from Ra’s.

It wouldn’t be long, now.

They reached the top of the crater where the temple laid. It was an ancient construction, looking both immovable and strangely out of place in this landscape of even older mountains. A single monk in orange robes was walking in the green gardens which surrounded the temple and made it even more unseemly in the blinding whiteness.

“The temple of Rama Kushna,” Ra’s breathed out. “I’ve looked for it for so long.”

So even he could still be impressed from time to time. Though Jason guessed he was more interested in his objective than in the place itself. Yet it had its own power, and so did the order within.

Jason let himself drop to the edge of the monkey bridge which connected the temple to the outside world. Good defense, Jason though. Even for him it would be hard to reach it from the other way, the climb being much harder from that side.

He started on the bridge before Ra’s could, unwilling to let him be the first to contact the monks. Jason might be disrespectful most of the time, but he didn’t think himself to be above those people. Ra’s thought himself above everyone.

The others followed, making the bridge swing gently from one side to the other. By the time Jason had reached the end, several monks had gathered, anxious and surprised.

“Welcome to the temple of Rama Kushna, traveler,” one of the said.

Jason bowed politely. “My apologies for interrupting your peace. The man who follows me asked for a guide to the fountain of life and so I brought him here.”

“I’m Ra’s al Ghul,” Ra’s said in an authoritarian tone. The jerk. “Where is the fountain?”

“It’s not hidden,” the monk answered in a moderate tone. “It’s right beyond the temple, in the garden. But you should know… Only the pure of heart can enjoy its blessing. It brings death to those whose spirit is not pure.”

Jason tensed, worried about Ra’s reaction. He’d known, of course, but thought mentioning it to him would be a bad idea.

To his surprise, Ra’s scoffed, sounding rather amused. “Not being straight with me, Shadow of the shadow? Do not worry, I don’t fear the fountain’s judgment. Do you know, I’ve always believed it must be the prototype of the Lazarus pits I myself use.”

“Yeah well, sorry but that’s not exactly good news,” Jason commented.

Ra’s ignored him to follow the monks’ instructions. Bruce joined Jason, looking at him intensely through his white lenses.

“If you expect Ra’s to die…”

“I expect Ra’s to be Ra’s,” Jason interrupted. “Either he’ll die, or he won’t. Either way it will be his choice. You can’t force right decisions out of people, Bruce. You know that.”

But didn’t he still wish to. Yet Bruce didn’t protest further, following Ra’s with a frown. Jason rolled his eyes. Worst-case scenario? Ra’s was hurt without dying and demanded Jason’s body. As far as he was concerned, Ra’s dying was the best­ scenario.

Still, he shadowed them, as did the leaguers.

The fountain was of the purest water, far from the toxin green of the Lazarus pits. Jason swallowed. He’d seen it before, once, yet it was still breathtaking. Not that it looked like much: just a naturally formed rock sprouting water, which was gathered in a round basin dug into the stony ground.

Ra’s removed his tunic while one of his guards unlaced his shoes, leaving him only in his pants. His state was even more visible now: his ribs showing under a fragile, gray skin.

Yet Bruce stepped forward. “Ra’s. You can’t possibly think to go inside. If what the monk said is true…”

The Demon’s Head raised a hand.

“Detective. Do not presume.”

Jason snorted, which removed some of their impact from Ra’s words. Yet, it sufficed. Bruce stepped aside, fists clenched. There would be a backslash if Ra’s did die, Jason suddenly knew. Bruce would blame himself. Didn’t he always?

Well, fuck him. People did have the right to make bad choices. You couldn’t control everybody, or else, you’d be – Brainiac, or something.

Ra’s stepped inside the fountain, sitting down under the gentle stream. He didn’t scream, didn’t start burning or melting. Was he really pure? Jason hadn’t dared to test the fountain, the one time he’d come.

He had come for it specifically, of course, like most people who reached the place. He’d found its coordinate in the Batcomputer and had thought – why not? Maybe if would clean him from the Lazarus pit’s stain, or maybe it would kill him, putting things back how they should have been.

But in the end, he had not dared. Yet here Ra’s was, sitting fearlessly in the inoffensive water.

Inoffensive, but healing. Already Ra’s skin was looking better, his flesh and muscle filling in, youth coming back to his face. He smiled, noticing their surprise.

“Do not confuse purity and morality, Detective,” he told Bruce without heat. “The values you think so highly of are very new to this world. As positive as you might think them, such a stream wouldn’t judge them more worthy than any other.”

“You kill people,” Bruce answered, tense. “Nothing can find that pure. You seek unbalance, in others, by killing them, and in yourself, by staying alive for so long.”

“Maybe it is so, from your point of view. Yet my intention is indeed to cleanse this world.”

Ra’s closed his eyes, breathing in as the fountain kept healing him, a clear dismissal. Jason moved to Bruce’s side, taking his arm to thug him away. “We should leave.”

“The monks…”

“Can defend themselves. They’re blessed by Rama Kushna, you know.”

Jason wasn’t even kidding, and it must have been apparent in his tone because Bruce didn’t resist further. They politely saluted the monks, who escorted them back to the entrance. Maybe Jason would go back, in his world. Not right away but – later. When he would have found his center at last.

They’d left the League’s stronghold at dawn and, even though the return trip was long, they managed to reach the Batplane right before dawn. To their relief, Damian and Talia were waiting for them there.

“Father!” Damian stopped just short from Bruce, clearly unwilling to behave like a child. To Jason’s surprise, Bruce ended the movement by hugging the kid. Damian squealed his protests without pushing him away.

Talia inclined her head at Jason. “My father?”

“Healed and well. We left before him but I don’t expect him to meet any surprises on his way back.”

She nodded, looking relieved, then she smiled. “Thank you, Shadow of my shadow.”

“Isn’t it Bruce who’s Damian’s dad?” Jason asked, just because, fuck, what was it with her coming into him?

As soon as he said the words, Talia’s face emptied of any expression and, from the corner of his eyes, Jason could see Bruce straightening up guiltily. Riiiight.

“Anyway, we have to go,” Jason decided. “Thank you for your help, Talia.”

“It should be I thanking you, Jason from another world. I trust the one from this one will soon return?”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re looking into it.”

Bruce nodded at Talia awkwardly, then nudged Damian into the Batplane. The kid didn’t protest: the day had been a long one. They left without further discussion then put on the autopilot so they could take turns sleeping.

Even with a few hours of eyes-closing, Jason still felt wasted when they finally landed back in Gotham. He would be relieved to slip into his bed and have a real, good rest, knowing the local Batfamily was safely home.

He opened the Batplane’s door, hoping to head upstairs to do just that – and stopped dead as Jason Wayne looked up to him. He swallowed, looking around, not knowing if he wanted him to be alone or if he hoped he was.

But no: here he was, looking up at him from afar. Bruce. His Bruce.

###

Earth 53 – Jason Wayne

The first thing Jason felt when the Batplan’s door opened was relief: Bruce was there, mostly unarmed despite a few cuts he’d definitely want to check, and so was Damian, who jumped down without wasting time.

Then Jason took the time to properly look at his double and… yeah. Doppelganger might be the right word. He was wearing his own gear, the same type he’d found in the flat he’d woken up in the other Earth: reinforced pants, combat boots, leather jacket which likely was reinforced too, and way too many weapons for someone who moved like he was one.

He looked as bad as Jason had feared. Yet, from what Kal and Dick had told him, he hadn’t hesitated to follow Bruce when they’d found out Damian’s life was in danger so maybe he should take appearances for what they were.

Besides, it’s not like he didn’t understand where he came from.

It was also hard not to notice how this other Jason had tensed all over when he’d seen the Bruce

“Nice to meet you,” Jason said, going forward, hand raised, to cut the tension. “I’m the local Jason. Thank you for bringing back my brother and nephew in one piece.”

The other Jason – this was going to become tedious soon, thinking about him that way, he should think about him as Todd instead – looked taken aback, but recovered quickly and shook his hand almost without trying to crush it.

“My pleasure,” Todd said, his tone clearly ironic, yet… it was probably true.

Jesus. This really was like talking to a younger self. How weird.

Jason smiled his most Luthorian smile, and was rewarded by a frown. Bruce – his Bruce – damnit – rolled his eyes.

“I know, I know,” Jason said. “No need to antagonize our host. I can’t help myself.”

Forgetting his doppelganger for a moment, he went and hugged Damian, then pulled Bruce into the hug with them, because he could. Feeling their presence physically was a relief. They were there. They were fine.

Then Bruce winced. “Alright,” Jason said. “Damian, to the shower. Make sure you aren’t hurt anywhere and if you aren’t careful enough, I’ll check you myself. Bruce, to the med bay.”

Damian obeyed without protesting too much, which was unusual, but then, considering the circumstances, Jason was not surprised. Todd raised his eyebrows at Bruce, who grimaced back, removing his cowl.

“I wouldn’t have to behave like you mother if you behaved more responsibly by yourself,” Jason commented.

“Please, don’t,” Bruce grumbled.

The other Bruce – yeah, he wasn’t going to call him Wayne, that would be just too weird – almost smiled.

“If it makes you feel better, he did the same with me, and I’m ten years older than him.”

Jason’s brother didn’t seem to know what to do about that comment. “I’m not sure if I should be reassured, or worried that he’s going to do that my whole life.”

“That’s what older brothers are for,” Jason sing-songed, nudging Bruce into removing the top part of his armor.

Cuts everywhere. That’s what he’d though. He started cleaning them.

“Todd, can I ask you to go tell Dick you’re all back and fine? He’s hard to wake up and might just mumble something but he’ll remember in the morning.”

“Sure.”

The tone didn’t match the answer. Was he hurt, too? The other Bruce was checking on him from afar but Todd’s movements only broadcasted discomfort, which could be largely attributed to his adoptive father’s presence. Or was it because of Jason himself?

Nevertheless, Todd removed his guns and knives then the most obvious parts of his armor before heading back upstairs. The other Bruce raised his eyebrows, but didn’t comment. Todd didn’t look in his direction, which wasn’t quite the same as ignoring him successfully.

“Bruce, a hand?” Jason called, mostly to distract him.

This brother grunted at having two people stitching him back up at the same time, uncomfortable himself with this unknown person being so close, but that’s what he got for getting himself cut like that.

“Ra’s?” Jason asked while working.

“Alive and well.”

“Mh. Talia?”

“Helped us,” Bruce confirmed, to Jason’s relief. “She says hi.”

“She doesn’t.” She never did.

“She doesn’t need to.”  No, indeed.

Jason finished working alongside the other Bruce. When he was satisfied, he nodded and let his brother take his own shower, his wounds taped with waterproof bands. Damian had finished in the meantime and headed upstairs to his bed, not without Jason hugging him one last time. Damian didn’t even protest.

Jason sighed when he found himself alone with the other Bruce. “What a family we both have.”

“You take good care of them all.”

“Thank you,” Jason answered. “I’m mostly sad about how Damian has been treated by Ra’s, though. Even Talia… I like her, but even though she protected him this time, I’m never sure she will next time. Oh I don’t think she’d kill him, even to save Ra’s life, but manipulating him into doing what she wants?”

He shrugged. That’s how she’d been raised. She didn’t see the wrongness in it.

The other Bruce sighed. “I know what you mean.”

“Yeah, I guess you would. Sorry but I can’t believe two of you were stupid enough to sleep with her. I mean. It was obvious she tried to seduce because Ra’s wanted her to.”

“She did?”

“Well, she did like us, I think,” Jason amended. “It wouldn’t have been quite that effective if she didn’t. But still.”

“Don’t underestimate her,” Bruce tempered. “I slept with her after having had a vasectomy and she still managed to have Damian.”

“Huh,” Jason said, very intelligently. Maybe he should have enjoyed the sex, then. He sure had wanted to, back then. Though the idea of her showing up with his son… It has been hard enough to have her show up with his nephew.

“Yeah well,” Jason sighed. “I’m still glad to leave that particular worry to Bruce. Besides, I get to enjoy Damian’s charming personality nonetheless.” He grinned.

The old Bruce smiled, likely understanding that he was only joking. They sat there in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, then Jason’s brother finished his showered and joined them, wearing the dark grey fatigues they kept in the Cave for such occasions.

“I’ll head upstairs, have some sleep before starting the day. How’s Dick?”

“Asleep, I think,” Jason said. “I just sent Todd tell him you were all fine, so you can head directly to your bed.”

“Hmpf.”

“If you try to hack into the computer from your room to fill the files today, I will see it.”

“Maybe I should prevent you from going to the office when you didn’t sleep either tonight.”

Jason yawned at the thought. “I might actually stay at home, today. I mean, I’ve been off for a few days, I assume you pretended I was sick?”

“I did. Take your Friday off, too. I’ll give you a hand to catch up on Monday.”

“Noted. See you, then.”

“See you, Jay.”

Jason smiled as he watched his brother go back upstairs. The other Bruce titled his head.

“You don’t have to stay.”

“You sure? Todd might go to bed right away too but if he comes back downstairs…”

“Then I’ll handle him.”

Jason looked at this older Bruce, who wore so many traces of the hard live he’d lived, and who didn’t seem remotely tired despite the lack of sleep.

“You’ll hold the fort?”

“I will. Go to sleep.”

Jason stretched, getting up. He knew he could rely on his little brother, of course, they’d both risk their lives for each other – and they did, numerous times. But he felt responsibility toward him, like he didn’t toward this other, older Bruce.

It was nice.

“Alright. Don’t kill each other, if Todd comes back down.”

“No corpses where Alfred can find them. Got it.”

Jason grinned, then, after a short hesitation, went to this other Bruce and hugged him like he’d hugged his brother. He felt him startle but then Bruce recovered and closed his arms around his adoptive son’s doppelganger. He was a very good hugger.

“G’night,” Jason said, letting him go.

“Good night, Jason.”

###

Note: comments are very welcome :)

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Silent Song, Chapter 26

The is it. One more chapter after this one. You may want tissues? I don’t know, I didn’t cry editing it but still. Can you see it? Can you see how it will be okay? 

Masterlist,  Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25

Loki stepped out into the open air and took a deep breath. The moment was much needed to steady himself as he gazed down at her. Even in death, she was beautiful. Perhaps even more so with the weight of her pain gone from her face. All that remained was the purity of a girl who had quickly began to grow into a woman before his eyes.

The blue fireflies as they moved through the area seeming to not mind them for even a moment. They made quick work of snuffing the life out of each remaining guard and Zealot. It was simple as landing on them and their lives were over and the glowing bugs moved onto the next target. They didn’t seem to cause any pain in their killing. For those that they targeted life was simply over.

Loki couldn’t say what it was the Zealots had created from her soul but it seemed to mean him no harm. As the others joined him outside as a few fireflies flitted to them. The bugs danced between them. Sometimes they would even land but none of the team was harmed by them.

Tony choked back a sob as best he could as a few flew in a circle around where Clint and Natasha held onto each other for emotional support just as much as for physical. One bug landed on his hand and god did he never want it to leave him. It nearly killed him when the bug faded from existence, healing him of his worst injuries in the process.

Loki let out a breath as a firefly landed on him. A much needed calmness washed over him. The bug glowed a brighter blue for a moment before it faded from existence. As it faded he felt strength return to him. While he was still weak, he could function again.

She gave him the strength to do what must be done. She gave him the forgiveness and peace to carry on. With a sigh he turned his head skyward and watched as blue lights danced and moved through the darkness in the open sky above him. If he could not have her, he would cherish the peace she had given him even with the shadow of his madness still lurking deep below. Thanks to her, he could clearly think passed it.

Loki sent a wave of power crawling over the ground and into the forest behind the distance. She needed more than to be bathed in moonlight. The dirt and blood needed to be washed from her. True, he could do so with his replenished power but that was not the way. That was not their way and it would be done properly, he would see to it.

Without speaking a word, he walked across the lot and into the woods. He didn’t look around. He didn’t offer any consideration to the others. In his heart he knew what he had to do. This was his fault, if he had realized the cost sooner things could have been different. Now that the dust was settling this was the last thing he could do for her. It was the last thing he would ever be able to do for her.

“Loki? Where are you going?” Thor jogged to his brother’s side as the team slowly fallowed. Loki took swift but measured steps, not going too fast nor too slow.

“There is a stream. Dirt has no place on her.”

“You wish to bath her?” Thor asked before realizing and slowing his pace, allowing Loki to take the lead.

“What is he doing?” Tony asked as he walked next to Thor.

The team trailed behind. They were shell shocked and tired. Each of their hearts were heavy with grief and pain. It hurt to think about what needed to be done next. It was easier to just follow Loki. At least he showed some sort of direction.

“He is taking her to stream to wash her. Loki… My Brother taking going to care for her.” Thor was picking his words carefully, clearly unsure of how to he needed to explain the depth of what Loki was doing.

“To care for her?” Tony stumbled over a root as they moved into the forest.

“To cleanse her and care for her parting.” Thor steadied Tony as they moved deeper.

“Where are we even going?” Sam questioned.

Before Thor could answer the sound of water filled their ears. They watched silently as Loki walked into the rushing water. It was more a river than a stream but that only served his needs better. Kneeling in the icy water, Loki lowered her until most of her was submerged.

Thor slowly joined him, taking her legs from him and helping to keep her steady as Loki ran his hands over her. Softly he scrubbed at her arm and shoulders, washing away caked on dirt and dried blood. Thor worked at her other arm and rubbed at her back only to look up as Tony came to his side with Natasha and Clint not far behind.

“What can I do?” Tony softly asked.

“We must make her clean.” Loki swallowed and cleared his throat before continuing. “She must be made pure again.”

“This is how things are done in Asgard?” Clint softly asked.

“Yes.” Thor answered simply before deciding it would be better to continue. “Normally we’d have others do it for us but overall it is custom for those who loved the… parted… would do it.”

“If it is custom, why would you normally have another do it for you?” Nat asked as she ran her fingers over one lifeless foot. Clint was next to her, softly cleaning the other.

“Because we are royal.” Loki answered simply. “To care for the dead is below us.”

Thor simply nodded Steve joined in cleaning her. They worked slowly, carefully as silence fell over them. Periodically a blue firefly would visit them only to fly off again.

It wasn’t hard to find the rest of the Zealots. It took no time at all. Even as she spread out over the woods she could still see them. She could see them, be with them while also stretching over the world. Even as she put threads of power out around those monsters she was with them. She didn’t know how or why she knew how to do it but it came to her as easy as existing.

She watched from many eyes as her body was washed of dirt and blood. They washed her with care in their eyes and their touches. With ears everywhere she listened as they spoke softly to each other. Even as she hovered above, watching from everywhere she felt the chill of the water against the skin of the body that she used to reside in.

Loki washed the dirt with careful fingers from her face. The rushing water around them sent the blood and dirt downstream and away from her, away from them. It made her feel at peace to see them working together.

There was a soft reverence in their movements. Power swelled within her and she tightened the threads of power that reached out over the land. Each Zealot’s heart simply stopped beating. There was only a few moments before their vision went black. Within a few short moments they were dead.

She didn’t bath the land they stood on with blood this time. They had been forgiven for their sins against her. That was what mattered most. They would not be able to hurt another if they no longer lived. They didn’t need to suffer to make it so.

Even as she watched each fall to their knees, she watched as the blood was slowly washed from her hair. Loki worked threads of green magic through her hair, untangling it and nothing more. The act of cleaning her was being done with no magical assistance as she watched.

Did they know she was watching? Did they know that she could feel their soft touches as they scrubbed away the dirt and blood?

When all trace of blood and dirt was washed away, Loki stood with her in his arms and carried to the riverbank. As she watched on green threads surrounded the body that once was her. Water no longer dripped from her cold fingertips and toes. Her hair was no longer dripping with water.

The threads of green worked their way over and through the stained dress that covered what used to be her body. Those that had become her family each watched with care in their hearts. She could feel how they cared for her. She could feel their love. But it was Loki’s love that she felt more than anything.

It was clear as day how he had loved her and without the weight of the lies clouding her mind she could see it. The warmth of that love was amazing. She could feel it even as she felt the chill around him, just a bit colder than the air the surrounded the rest of the team. Though she couldn’t say how, she knew they all shivered from the cold water. All but him. He was at place in the chill of the night air.

“What now?” Tony asked weakly. After clearing his throat he asked again, voice stronger the second time as he watched a firefly pass by Strange’s face.

“Now I take her somewhere that matches her beauty and build a pyre.” Gazing down at her, Loki spoke as his power wove together to create a new dress for her as it ripped the old into shreds.

“It’s beautiful.” Thor ran his fingers over the fine silks of green and gold.

Loki had made her a dress not just fit for a fine lady of Asgard but one that his queen mother would have worn. It was truly fit for no less than a queen. The bodice clung to her form, highlighting her slender build. The cape that would drape over her back came around to clasp in the front with a wide buckle decorated with snake inlays. The fabric hugged her shoulders and did well to make it look as if she wasn’t as underweight as we truly had been. Simple green shoes graced her feet and her hair was pulled back by a delicate network of braids.

It was lost on the others but Thor saw what Loki was doing. He’d not had the chance to claim her in life. He’d not had the chance to redeem himself to her. While he never got the chance to call her his in life he would do so in her death. To deny her in life would always be the mistake that would haunt him and in her burial he wouldn’t repeat that mistake.

“Hold her?” Loki softly asked as he passed her off to Tony’s arms.

In death she would be sent on wearing his tokens, his symbols and adorned by him with his love. With hands that betrayed his pain in their slight shaking Loki pulled the necklace from the air with a flourish that he knew would have made her smile. The same necklace that he had held nightly the last few weeks was wrapped around her neck as he secured it in the back. The same necklace that had been the key to finding her.

“Let’s take her somewhere beautiful.” Tony urged.

With nods of agreement, the team followed Loki through the forest. He know where he was leading them. They’d not paid attention to where they were going on the way to the river and paid just as little attention to the path taken back to the quinjet.

“So, isn’t it illegal to just dispose of...” Clint broke the silence when they all sat safely inside the jet but his words died. He couldn’t finish. He couldn’t say ‘her body’ and instead just gestured toward where she rested, clutched in Loki’s arms. “...somewhere.”

“Not just somewhere.” Loki absentmindedly answered as he pushed her hair from her face. “The place where she belongs.”

“And where is that?” Natasha called from the cockpit as she started the engines.

“Norway.” Thor offered and Loki nodded. “That will do.”

“Loki, we can’t just-” Sam was cut off by Tony.

“I’ll make it happen. What do we need?” He didn’t care if it made him broke, if Loki wanted to give her a queen’s burial he would make it happen. She deserved it.

It amazed her how she wasn’t disoriented as she watched from both inside the jet and outside of it as it took off. Being everywhere at the same time should have made her feel ill, yet it did not. It felt right. There was the slightest tug in her heart as the jet rose into the air but still she felt at peace.

A blue firefly sat on a shelf in the jet unnoticed. It was hidden between secured supplies. She didn’t know if she could be crushed or what would happen to her if part of her was but she didn’t want to risk it. Additionally, from her place she could see them all. She could hear them all. For so long as she could, a part of her would stay with them.

Other parts of her stretched out over the land. It was beautiful and she soaked up the sights of the night forest even as parts of her went into the city to likewise soak up the sights of the busy people living their lives.

She was content to explore in an ever expanding net of blue fireflies when she felt another pull. This pull was different then the one that drove her to stay in part with her body. This pull took her toward a light in the sky, almost like a star yet she knew it wasn’t.

Following it, she found the light got stronger the closer she got. It got brighter and warmer. The call to it got stronger until she passed through it.

Stepping out of the light she felt the slight dampness on the grass under her foot. It was comforting though it was something she hadn’t expected to feel again. In all honesty, she hadn’t expected to feel anything again in such a way as this.

Looking around, she took in the grass that seemed to go on forever. Trees were spread thin, dotting the expanse of land in a calming way. She could imagine playing there as a child and how good it would feel to run forever. There was a woman in gold standing in the distance and she knew that the woman was waiting for her.

“Where am I?” She asked with a voice she hadn’t known she had. It wasn’t a dream, somehow she knew this.

“Valhalla, heaven… This place has many names, many sides.” The woman answered while holding her hand out with a kind smile on her face.

“Who are you?” She enjoyed the simplicity of just being able to speak a question.

“Who I am doesn’t matter.” The woman smiled at her as the sunlight danced on the waves of golden hair pulled back from her face.

“Little Light,” The woman rested a hand against her face and it felt warm, comforting. “This isn’t where you belong.”

“Why did you call me that?”

“Because that is what you are.” The woman simply said. “Come, walk with me for a spell. Let me know the woman who opened his heart.”

“Who’s heart?” Blue fireflies danced forward, urging her on to fallow the woman and so she did. The woman in gold made her feel safe and everything about her felt…right.

“My son.” The woman smiled warmly.

“Your son?” She asked even as she felt like she should know the answer like she had known so much she had no way of knowing.

“Yes, Hotaru. You mustn't forget who you are.” The woman’s arm snaked around her shoulders and pulled her into a warm hug. “My son, Loki. You mustn’t forget who he is.”

Once the words were said, it felt like she had always known who this woman was, what her name was. The smile on Frigga’s face was warm and full of love. Walking tucked into Frigga’s embrace felt right. She wondered if that was what it felt like to have a mother.

“Perhaps this is what it would have felt like to have a daughter.” Frigga spoke as of having heard Hotaru’s thoughts.

When the stopped walking Hotaru found that they were standing in front of a mass of white light much like the one she had flown into. Looking to Frigga she was met with a sad smile. The light didn’t feel warm like it had when she crossed over into this place. She didn’t want to go through the light again.

“Can’t I stay with you?” Tears surprised her by falling from her eyes only to be wiped away by Frigga’s warm fingers.

“This is not the place for you. In time you will come back to me but now you must go to him so that in time you can bring him back to me.”

“How can I? I’m dead.”

Hotaru looked down at herself expecting to see herself as she had been now that she’d been gathered into a solid form again. She expected to see dirt and blood to tell the story of what she had lived. Instead she saw a gown of blue covering a body that she knew was what life had intended for her to have.

Hotaru watched as Frigga reached up and pulled the golden circlet from her head. The crown had gone unnoticed by Hotaru until now due to its golden tone. In the distance, Hotaru could see a large man and though he was too far away for her to see him clearly, she knew he wore a smile of approval on his aged face. With a nod, he directed her attention back to his wife though Hotaru couldn’t say how she knew their bond. In Frigga’s hands the circlet slowly changed from gold to silver.

“There, that would fit you much better.” With gentle hands she rested the circlet on Hotaru’s head. The weight was comfortable. “He will know it when he sees it.” Frigga offered as a way of explanation.

“Okay.” She whispered, reaching up to touch the smooth metal.

“Go to them.” Frigga urged as she wrapped Hotaru in one last warm embrace. “Go to him. Guide him. Love him. You are his light but remember to be your own light as well. When your time comes, I will greet you here my daughter.”

Hotaru nodded knowing that Frigga was right but admitted, “I’m scared. I don’t know how to be a light?”

“You already are, Dear One. You must only go to them and be true to yourself.”

“How will I know how to love him?”

“If you feel it in your heart, you will know what to do. If your heart doesn’t beat for him then it wasn’t meant to be and he will find his own way back to me.” Frigga didn’t want to push her. She wanted her son to find his way back to her yes but if this little newly born goddess wasn’t to lead him home she would have to trust that he would find his own way.

Frigga’s voice was so relaxing in her ear. It sounded like home. In that way she knew so much she had no way of knowing, Hotaru knew that Frigga had once read to Loki when he was young like he had read to her in what was another lifetime.

“You’ll lose some of that.” Frigga ran her fingers through Hotaru’s dark hair. “That all knowing will leave you when you return.”

“How will I find my way?” She asked.

“Your light will guide you.” Frigga assured her with a hug. “You must go now.”

Frigga was right. As much as Hotaru didn’t want to leave this place of warmth and peace, she had to go. Now wasn’t her time. Even now she was still tied to that place. Even now she felt the pull to go back there.

With one last nod Hotaru let her arms fall slack as Frigga pulled back from the hug. Hotaru did her best to match her warm smile as she let herself fall back into the light. It was blinding and cold this time but it didn’t matter.

The quinjet landed some hours later in a field of green grass. Officials met them on the ground but Loki paid them no mind. The technicalities and legalities were something Tony could deal with should he wish. He wouldn’t allow one or anything to stop him from sending her off how he saw fit.

Thor followed close at his heels as he looked around. This place was beautiful and he wished she could have seen it. In the distance he could see a few of the blue fireflies dance in the shadow of a tree. If they would live on forever, he would cherish them each time he caught sight of them. They were as close to seeing her as he would ever be again.

At the top of a gently sloping hill wood was gathered. Alder he found it to be just as he had specified. Kneeling, he softly set her on the ground. If one didn’t know she was dead they would think he wished not to wake a sleeping woman. How dearly he wished she had only been asleep. They all wished it but that wasn’t the case.

Without speaking so much as a word to each other, Loki and Thor set about arranging the logs and boards. She was dead and gone but being given a great honor. The king and crown prince themselves prepared her pyre.

“Should we help?” Sam asked as the group watched on.

“I think...” Tony swallowed hard. “I think it should be them.”

His hands were shaking worse than Strange’s. His stomach rolled and had he anything more then just bile he’d have vomited again. Though the urge was constant, he had nothing left to push from his body. Perhaps if he did it could take some of the grief, some of the pain with it.

Even still, the burn for a drink was oddly absent from his mind. He knew somehow that it was her gift to him in parting. It would take everything he had not to fall into that trap again but she had cured him at least for the time being. Never again would he allow himself to fall into that trap. He had to be strong. He had to be better. He had promised her he would do better.

Hotaru watched from everywhere as her body was laid out on a stack of wood. In that special way that she knew things, she knew this wood was different, it was special. Magic was latent in this world, she knew it was so. It’s spark was hidden in many things and it took just the right touch to bring it out. She could see it in the trees around her, in the wood she was laid on.

She could see the flicker of golden power that resided in Strange and knew that he would become more powerful with time. His journey was only just beginning. In Clint was just a flicker, hardly there but still it was there. Just as it was in Natasha and Sam. Perhaps it was the spark of magic that gave them the strength to shoulder their burdens.

In Tony she could see a thread that mirrored what hers had been so long ago. If her life had not gone down the path it had, she knew in that way she knew so many things that her spark would have looked so very much like his. Thor’s crackled through him very much like the lightening he commanded.

It was Loki’s magic that was most beautiful to her. The threads of green moved about him perfectly at ease. They extended out and around him before pulling back in on themselves as if always seeking out more and reporting back. Never had she even begun to understand the power Loki had possessed when she was alive. Yet know she knew just as she knew he had the potential to be so much more.

With eyes from everywhere she watched as green flames came to life at the four corners of the bed of wood. As the unnatural flame caught and spread it changed, becoming orange as it grew until no trace of the green remained.

The faces of her family and the man she loved watched on and so she sent part of herself to them. Blue fireflies danced among them as she tried to offer comfort but they did not see.

Their eyes were locked on the fire as it grew and raged. The wood was dry and while Alder did not burn hot enough naturally Loki fueled the flames encouraging it to burn hotter. Tony closed his eyes, unable to watch as the fire claimed her body, severing the last tie and setting her free.

Hotaru wished he could see that she was not gone. The flames did nothing, though even now she felt the heat of the blaze as it ate through her dress and burned the flesh from her bones. It did not cause her pain for that body was no longer her. As bone finally crumbled into ash, she was free. No longer was she tethered to the body that had once been her.

If only they could see that they had done what was needed. With her body no more, she was free. Finally, she was free.

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