#Mathew Allegiant

[chronicoverachiever]

arguing with a dudebro rn about how, while the cgi-ification of Matt Murdock is not optimal, it DOES NOT NEGATE THE QUALITY OF THE SHOW.

[ellievickstar]

A Court of Little Shadows (Chapter 4)

Warning: None but slight angst

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

A/N: I was rushing for the deadline so I just took a whole chunk of the book and edited the whole thing to fit the story. Let me know what you think! Also I’m changing Mathew’s age to 15 for romance purposes in the future.

Absolute silence. Absolute stillness.

I slid a shield around myself and Mathew as the rest of the High Lords had shields after shields locking into place around themselves and their retinue. The one Rhysand had already made around his court was now reinforcing. Rage laced its essence. Wrath and rage. Even if his face was bored—lazy.

Feyre tried to smooth hers into the cold caution with which her sister regarded the High Lord of the Spring Court, Tamlin, or the vague distaste on Morrigan’s. She tried, and failed miserably.

I beheld the High Lord who had shredded those naga into bloody ribbons, here was the High Lord who had impaled Amarantha on his friend’s sword and ripped out her throat with his teeth according to spies.

All of it, gleaming in those green eyes as they fixed on the Night Court. Tamlin’s teeth were white as crow-picked bones as he smiled broadly.

Thesan rose, his captain remaining seated beside him—albeit with a hand on his sword. “We were not expecting you, Tamlin.” Thesan gestured with a slender hand toward his cringing attendants. “Fetch the High Lord a chair.”

Tamlin did not tear his gaze from Feyre, from Rhysand. His smile turned somehow more unnerving. More vicious, as he nodded my his head in my direction, “who is she,” “None of your business,” Grey Snarled at him and he shrugged. From what I knew, hewore his usual green tunic, no crown, no adornments.

Beron drawled, “I will admit, Tamlin, that I am surprised to see you here.” Tamlin didn’t alter hisfocus from Feyre. From every breath she took. “Rumor claims your allegiance now lies elsewhere.” Tamlin’s gaze shifted down. To the ring on her finger, the tattoo adorned on her hand. I rolled my eyes as he glanced at the glittering, pale blue sleeve of her gown. Then his eyes rose, right to the crown that she probably picked from the heirlooms of the troves in the Night Court.

Feyre’s molten wrath had cooled into something sharp-edged and brittle.

Thesan’s attendants hauled over a chair, setting it between one of Beron’s sons and Helion’s entourage. Neither looked thrilled about it, though they weren’t stupid enough to physically recoil as Tamlin sat.

He said nothing. Not a word.

Helion waved a scar-flecked hand. “Let’s get on with it, then.” Thesan cleared his throat. No one looked toward him, so I cleared mine and but no one cared. Not as Tamlin surveyed the hand Rhys had resting on Feyre’s sparkling knee.

The loathing in Tamlin’s eyes practically simmered.

He opened his mouth, and I braced for the foul language that I would not be used to since people in my court tip toed around swear words like ballerinas.

“It would seem congratulations are in order.”

The words were flat—flat and yet sharp as his claws, currently hidden beneath his golden skin.

Silence.

Rhysand only held Tamlin’s stare. Held it with a face like ice, and yet utter rage roiled beneath it. Cataclysmic rage, surging and writhing down the bond between us. But I rolled my eyes, and clapped slowly. “Okay we get it, can we get on with this? I’m still a child and I’m bored,” I complained as my patience ran dry.

However, Rhysand only smiled at me and addressed Thesan, who had reclaimed his seat, yet seemed far from any sort of ease, “We can discuss the matter at hand later.”

Tamlin said calmly, “Don’t stop on my account.”

The light in Rhysand’s eyes guttered, as if a hand of darkness wiped away those stars. But he reclined in his chair, withdrawing his hand from Feyre’s knee to trace idle circles on his seat’s wooden arm. “I’m not in the business of discussing our plans with enemies.”

Helion, across the reflection pool, grinned like a lion. “No,” Tamlin said with equal ease, “you’re just in the business of fucking them.” I winced at the language as I just tried to shrink back in my chair to avoid the conflict.

Cassian, Azriel, and Mor were still as death—their fury rippling off them in silent waves. But whether Tamlin noticed or cared that three of the deadliest people in this room were currently contemplating his demise, he didn’t let on.

Rhys shrugged, smiling faintly. “Seems a far less destructive alternative to war.” “And yet here you are, having started it in the first place.” Rhysand’s blink was the only sign of his confusion.

A claw slid out of Tamlin’s knuckle.

Kallias tensed, a hand drifting to the arm of Viviane’s chair—as if he’d throw himself in front of it. Mathew doing the same to me as Grey and Elliot shifted to a casual defense position, Noah’s wings flared slightly. But Tamlin only dragged that claw lightly down the carved arm of his own chair—as he’d once dragged them down Feyre’s skin.

He smiled as if menacingly but said to Rhysand, “If you hadn’t stolen my bride away in the night, Rhysand, I would not have been forced to take such drastic measures to get her back.” Feyre said quietly, “The sun was shining when I left you.” I snorted and I do not know if Tamlin ignored me or simply did not acknowledge me but he had no reaction.

Those green eyes slid to Feyre, glazed and foreign. He let out a low chuckle, then looked away again. Dismissal.

Kallias asked, “Why are you here, Tamlin?”

Tamlin’s claw dug into the wood, puncturing deep even as his voice remained mild. I had no doubt that gesture was meant for Feyre, too. “I bartered access to my lands to get back the woman I love from a sadist who plays with minds as if they are toys. I meant to fight Hybern—to find a way around the bargain I made with the king once she was back. Only Rhysand and his cabal had turned her into one of them. And she delighted in ripping open my territory for Hybern to invade. All for a petty grudge— either her own or her ... master’s.” “Oh we both know that is a load of crap,” I cut in before he could continue.

Tamlin only angled his head at Me. “Who are you to tell me what is a lie and what is not, little girl?” Something boiled in me at that name. This was not outright battle, but an insult to Rhysand, to the ones against him. Beron beamed, delighted, while Eris, his son, carefully monitored.

Rhysand turned his head, looking me over from head to toe. Then back to Tamlin. A storm about to be unleashed. However, it was Azriel who said, his voice like cold death, “Be careful how you speak about the High Lady of the Shadow Court.”

Surprise flashed in Tamlin’s eyes, then vanished. He glanced at me and roared laughter as he took in the sight of me. “She is a High Lady!? That is a child! An ignorant on at that, I could just-,” He stood as he tried to approach me but on instinct, my shadows lashed out and shielded. However, Mathew and Azriel had other plans. Ropes of pure shadow lashed out from Mathew as it brought Tamlin to his knees in front of me.

“Bow down when your talking to her Highness,” Mathew hissed, the venom in his voice was foreign, so strange. The other High Lords remained in their seats, not daring to interfere with the unholy power we claimed. Tamlin struggled against his bindings as he snarled at me.

“You can’t even defend yourself!” However I flung my hand out, shadow wrapped around me as a crown was on my head, heavy, tall, but it sent a message. I may be a girl, but I had power. More then they could dream of, even Feyre. “Apologise,” The command thundered in my voice as Tamlin finally lowed his head before he was released and returned to his seat.

Tamlin faced the other gathered High Lords and their retinues. “They may or may not peddle tales of defending our land and peace. And yet she came to my lands and laid them bare for Hybern. She took my High Priestess and warped her mind—after she shattered her bones for spite. And if you are asking yourself what happened to that human girl who went Under the Mountain to save us, look to the male sitting beside her. Ask what he stands to gain, what they stand to gain from this war, or lack of it. Would we fight Hybern, only to find ourselves with a Queen and King of Prythian? She’s proved her ambition—and you saw how he was more than happy to serve Amarantha to remain unscathed.”

Rhysand let out a dark laugh. “Well played, Tamlin. You’re learning.” But I cut in again. “You don’t get to claim innocence either,” My voice was low, unreadable. “Rhysand has sacrificed, we all have sacrificed. I HAVE SACRIFICED,” I raised my voice before regaining composures, “I will not sit here and let you spill insults at the people trying to save this continent. Yes, Rhysand may not be entirely innocent but look at yourself.”

Ire contorted Tamlin’s face at the condescension. But he faced Kallias. “You asked why I’m here?I might ask the same of you.” He jerked his chin at the High Lord of Winter, at Viviane, the few other members of their retinue who had remained silent. “You mean to tell me that after Under the Mountain, you can stomach working with him?” A finger flung in Rhysand’s direction.

I wanted to rip that finger right off Tamlin’s hand. And feed it to the hounds in my manor.

The silvery glow about Kallias dulled.Even Viviane seemed to dim. “We came here to decide that for ourselves.” Mor was staring at her friend in quiet question but Viviane, did look toward her. Only at her mate.

Rhysand said softly to them, to everyone, “I had no involvement in that. None.” Kallias’s eyes flared like blue flame. “You stood beside her throne while the order was given.” I watched, stomach twisting, as I realised what they were referring to. Rhysand’s golden skin paled. “I tried to stop it.”

“Tell that to the parents of the two dozen younglings she butchered,” Kallias said. “That you tried.” I had not forgotten. Never forgotten that bit of Amarantha’s, Rhysand’s, despicable history. It had happened just last year and when I had heard, I couldn’t do anything. Had lay curled up in my bed wishing that I had done something. Blaming myself and Rhysand, the murderer of my mother.

Rhys’s mouth tightened. “There is not one day that passes when I don’t remember it,” he said to Kallias, to Viviane. To their companions. “Not one day.” “Do you remember my mother?” I asked quietly. “Do you remember the look of terror as she begged you, begged you to not kill her? In her mind, as she screamed? Tell me, do you remember those moments,” My voice was sombre. Rhysand’s eyes flashed with regret. J’allais looked at me with pity, but I did not need it.

Standing by, leashed to Amarantha or not, while she had ordered the murder of those children, and he had been, somewhere. I had no idea since reports had been murky but it infuriated me. “Remembering,” Kallias said, “doesn’t bring them back, does it? Doesn’t bring her mother back?”

“No,” Rhys said plainly. “No, it doesn’t. And I am now fighting to make sure it never happens again.” Viviane glanced between her husband and Rhys. “I was not present Under the Mountain. But I would hear, High Lord, how you tried to, stop her.” Pain tightened her face. She, too, had been unable to prevent it while she guarded her small slice of the territory. “He muredered her himself. I had reports and spies. I had overheard. I was six and clinging to the hope that she would survive. Amarantha had planned to let her go. Why did you kill her?” I let out a choked sob as I stood to my feet, my emotions overwhelming me. Mathew held me back against his warm body as I cried. My mother, murdered by this High Lord.

Rhys said nothing.

Beron snorted. “Finally speechless, Rhysand?”

Feyre put a hand on Rhys’s arm and I snarled at them. And she didn’t care, not bothering to keep her voice down, “I believe you.”

“Says the woman,” Beron countered, “who gave an innocent girl’s name in her stead, for Amarantha to butcher as well.”

I snapped my eyes to him and he fell silent once more. Good.

Rhys swallowed. I tightened my grip on his arm.

His voice was rough as he said to Kallias, “When your people rebelled ...” They had, I recalled, the Winter Court had had reports of rebelling against Amarantha. And the children, that had been Amarantha’s answer. Her punishment for the disobedience. “She was furious. She wanted you dead, Kallias.”

Viviane’s face drained of color.

Rhys went on, “I, convinced her that it would serve little purpose.” “Who knew,” Beron mused, “that a cock could be so persuasive?” Nausea swept through me at the thought.

“Father.” Eris’s voice was low with warning.

For Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Feyre had fixed their gazes upon Beron. And none of them were smiling. Perhaps Eris would be High Lord sooner than he planned.

But Rhys went on to Kallias, “She backed off the idea of killing you. Your rebels were dead, I convinced her it was enough. I thought it was the end of it.” His breathing hitched slightly. “I only found out when you did. I think she viewed my defense of you as a warning sign—she didn’t tell me any of it. And she kept me ... confined. I tried to break into the minds of the soldiers she sent, but her damper on my power was too strong to hold them—and it was already done. She sent a daemati with them. To-,” He faltered. The children’s minds, they’d been shattered. Rhys swallowed. “I think she wanted you to suspect me. To keep us from ever allying against her.”

“Where did she confine you?” The question came from Viviane, her arms wrapped around her middle. I was not entirely ready for it when Rhys said, “Her bedroom.” And I outright vomited into the carpet, Mathew tracing soothing circles on my back as he held my braids away from my face.

“Then why did you kill my mother?” I asked again. I just wanted a reason. “You knew I was there! I know you knew she had a child and you killed her! My spies said you killed her against Amarantha’s orders! Why?” Sobs racked through me as I fell to my knees, slipping from Mathew’s grasped and shadow exploded around me.

tag list: @moonfawnx @bankerfrog @younxii @hideing @flightlesslittlebirdie

A/N: I almost cried writing this chapter. Our bitch is getting emotional and Azriel defending her Oooooooh. But her and Mathew’s relationship? Wowww. Let me know what you think! Today I am asking for theories, what reason did Rhysand really murder her mother for.

[mad-komet]

Mathew Barzal / Anthony Cirelli arranged marriage AU

the kingdom of tampa bay beats the kingdom of long island in war, and as part of the peace treaty their crown prince Mathew must marry their 2nd-in-line prince Anthony - thus preventing issue from the Isles' direct line and forcing closer allegiance to the conquering kingdom

[rockislandadultreads]

Mystery Titles by African American Authors: a list

Jackal by Erin E. Adams

A young Black girl goes missing in the woods outside her white Rust Belt town. But she’s not the first—and she may not be the last. . . . It’s watching. Liz Rocher is coming home . . . reluctantly. As a Black woman, Liz doesn’t exactly have fond memories of Johnstown, Pennsylvania, a predominantly white town. But her best friend is getting married, so she braces herself for a weekend of awkward and passive-aggressive reunions. Liz has grown, though; she can handle whatever awaits her. But on the day of the wedding, somewhere between dancing and dessert, the bride’s daughter, Caroline, goes missing—and the only thing left behind is a piece of white fabric covered in blood. It’s taking. As a frantic search begins, with the police combing the trees for Caroline, Liz is the only one who notices a pattern: a summer night. A missing girl. A party in the woods. She’s seen this before. Keisha Woodson, the only other Black girl in school, walked into the woods with a mysterious man and was later found with her chest cavity ripped open and her heart missing. Liz shudders at the thought that it could have been her, and now, with Caroline missing, it can’t be a coincidence. As Liz starts to dig through the town’s history, she uncovers a horrifying secret about the place she once called home. Children have been going missing in these woods for years. All of them Black. All of them girls. It’s your turn. With the evil in the forest creeping closer, Liz knows what she must do: find Caroline, or be entirely consumed by the darkness.

As the Wicked Watch by Tamron Hall, T. Shawn Taylor

When crime reporter Jordan Manning leaves her hometown in Texas to take a job at a television station in Chicago, she's one step closer to her dream: a coveted anchor chair on a national network. Jordan is smart and aggressive, with unabashed star-power, and often the only woman of color in the newsroom. Her signature? Arriving first on the scene—in impractical designer stilettos. Armed with a master's degree in forensic science and impeccable instincts, Jordan has been able to balance her dueling motivations: breaking every big story—and giving a voice to the voiceless. From her time in Texas, she's covered the vilest of human behaviors but nothing has prepared her for Chicago. Jordan is that rare breed of a journalist who can navigate a crime scene as well as she can a newsroom—often noticing what others tend to miss. Again and again, she is called to cover the murders of Black women, many of them sexually assaulted, most brutalized, and all of them quickly forgotten. All until Masey James—the story that Jordan just can't shake, despite all efforts. A 15-year-old girl whose body was found in an abandoned lot, Masey has come to represent for Jordan all of the frustration and anger that her job often forces her to repress. Putting the rest of her work and her fraying personal life aside, Jordan does everything she can to give the story the coverage it desperately requires, and that a missing Black child would so rarely get. There's a serial killer on the loose, Jordan believes, and he's hiding in plain sight.

Bluebird, Bluebird by Attica Locke

When it comes to law and order, East Texas plays by its own rules--a fact that Darren Mathews, a black Texas Ranger, knows all too well. Deeply ambivalent about growing up black in the lone star state, he was the first in his family to get as far away from Texas as he could. Until duty called him home. When his allegiance to his roots puts his job in jeopardy, he travels up Highway 59 to the small town of Lark, where two murders--a black lawyer from Chicago and a local white woman--have stirred up a hornet's nest of resentment. Darren must solve the crimes--and save himself in the process--before Lark's long-simmering racial fault lines erupt. A rural noir suffused with the unique music, color, and nuance of East Texas, Bluebird, Bluebird is an exhilarating, timely novel about the collision of race and justice in America.

All Her Little Secrets by Wanda M. Morris

Everyone has something to hide... Ellice Littlejohn seemingly has it all: an Ivy League law degree, a well-paying job as a corporate attorney in midtown Atlanta, great friends, and a “for fun” relationship with a rich, charming executive—her white boss, Michael. But everything changes one cold January morning when Ellice goes to meet Michael… and finds him dead with a gunshot to his head. And then she walks away like nothing has happened. Why? Ellice has been keeping a cache of dark secrets, including a small-town past and a kid brother who’s spent time on the other side of the law. She can’t be thrust into the spotlight—again. But instead of grieving this tragedy, people are gossiping, the police are getting suspicious, and Ellice, the company’s lone black attorney, is promoted to replace Michael. While the opportunity is a dream-come-true, Ellice just can’t shake the feeling that something is off. When she uncovers shady dealings inside the company, Ellice is trapped in an impossible ethical and moral dilemma. Suddenly, Ellice’s past and present lives collide as she launches into a pulse-pounding race to protect the brother she tried to save years ago and stop a conspiracy far more sinister than she could have ever imagined…

[moonley18]

Mathews Am 34 Maple Leafs Seventy Papi T-Shirt

Show your support for the Maple Leafs with the Mathews Am 34 Maple Leafs Seventy Papi Shirt. Featuring the iconic blue "PAPI 34" design, this shirt is a must-have for fans of the Toronto Maple Leafs and superstar player Auston Matthews.

As Matthews continues to dominate the ice with his exceptional skills and leadership, this shirt allows you to cheer him on in style. The bold lettering and vibrant colors make it a standout piece for game days, watch parties, or everyday wear.

Made from premium quality fabric, the Mathews Am 34 Maple Leafs Seventy Papi Shirt offers both comfort and durability, ensuring it remains a staple in your wardrobe season after season. Whether you're at the arena or watching from home, let your allegiance to the Maple Leafs shine with this eye-catching shirt.

[babydollmarauders]

Listen, I am a Jack and Barzy girl through and through (though I loved Jack first and I’m a devs fan). But if ya ask me to who I pledge allegiance more now... as a brunette WOC I’m going with Mathew 😭 IM SORRY YALL IM SORRY 😭😭

i mean, you do you bestie!

i don’t judge!

but personally, for me, jack will always win over anyone 😭

[eliza123sworld]

Roman and Mathew same sexy hair.

[jj-lynn21]

Posted on Instagram by billskarscat. says its from Divergent Allegiant. We all have been discussing Mathew. So here a new/old pic...someone said they thought it was a manip...

[anxelasstuff]

Tris: Sometimes I'm a little angry bird and sometimes I'm a jigglypuff who just wants to cuddle

Peter: And sometimes you're a bitch

[divergent-discourse]

acting on your best behaviour turn your back on mother nature  everybody wants to rule the world 

[rucbarthatbowtiesarecooldw]

Saturday Afternoon Session

Hark All Ye Nations Sustaining Vote – Pres Eyring Beautiful Savior D Todd Christofferson

A thriving society can fail in time if it abandons the principals and virtues it needs to uphold

Trust in God – make Him your highest priority

God: The Devine Author of Human Rights and Human Dignity

Seek to grow in the knowledge of He who created you – or in the knowledge of all that is just and true

Integrity, Responsibility, Compassion, Respect for others, Service, Fidelity in marriage (I missed a couple I think)

Belief in and allegiance to God are important

Those who profess no religion can be and often are good and moral people.

Do not cut the plant from its roots

Reliance on culture and tradition alone is not sufficient

The truth of God points a better way – let it guide your lives

Refers to the core truths:

God lives

He is the Heavenly Father of our Spirits

As a manifestation of His love he gives us commandments

He sent Jesus Christ to suffer for our sins and rise from the dead to bring about the atonement 

Jesus Christ doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world. 

Steven J. Lund – YM President

• His poor son oh goodness

“Are you sure you are strong enough to go to church?” “I’m supposed to pass the sacrament today . . . I see how people look at me when I pass the sacrament. I think it helps them.”

Willingly suffering to serve

The Saviors mission has always been to serve his father by saving the children of men. 

Young men and young women do not need to get sick to discover joys and purpose in serving the Savior. 

Our youth cannot wait for the world to right itself to find their true identity

Gerritt W. Gong

As saints, we’re invited to change the world for the better

We worship God, the Eternal Father, and His son, Jesus Christ, not Joseph Smith or any other mortal man or women

In 138 nations and counting, BofM in 112 languages

New magazines for everywhere!! For the Strength of youth, the Friend, and the Liahona!!

https://store.churchofjesuschrist.org/magazinesfaq

Heavenly Father invites us everywhere to feel His love

He loves us better and knows us better than we love or know ourselves.

One person. One village. One tree at a time

I the Lord make you free, therefore ye are free indeed.

Great things often begin small but God’s miracles are manifest daily

Go Forth With Faith

Bishop W Christopher Waddell

What am I doing to prepare for what is to come??

The prophets understand the needs to prepare

Devastating things like covid -19 and natural disasters affect everyone with no respect to anything.

God does not expect us to do more than we can do, but He does expect us to do what we can when we can do it. . . The Lord loves effort

Personal Finance for self reliance

https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/bc/content/ldsorg/topics/self-reliance/personal-finances-na-eng.pdf?lang=eng&download=true

Embrace small and simple things – a demonstration of faith that God will supply

The most important step of all is to begin.

Mathew S. Holland – Seventy

He yearned to become extinct, both soul and body (yeah dude me too)

Until he was filled with exquisite joy because of the atonement

Christ does not want us to suffer like He did. That is why He did what He did – He suffered and offers the atonement and repentance to prevent us that pain.

Sometimes, exquisite pain comes not from sins, but honest mistakes, the actions of others, or events beyond our control.

All good gifts come from the Savior

Regardless of the source of pain the ultimate source of relief is the same – Jesus Christ

The process will unfold in his way on his schedule but Christ stands ready to heal every ounce, every aspect of your pain.

Through your sufferings you may be made perfect. 

Your particular ashes will become beauties

There shall be no more sorrow or crying or pain

William K Jackson – Seventy

The greatest of all cultures – The Culture of Christ

We need the culture based on the Savior’s teachings 

We are here for a reason

Unites rather than divides

There is no prejudice or “us vs them” – we are all “us” and we are all “them”

Women are full and equal partners here and in the world to come – not servants

It is inclusive not exclusive

We can indeed all cherish the best of our individual earthly cultures and heritages, and still be full participants in the oldest culture of all.

(This is great honestly I love it I just want to reread already)

Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Heavenly Father knew this was going to happen.

Even though this pandemic is not what we wanted or expected, God has prepared His children and His church for this time.

We are seeds, and for seeds to reach their potential they must be buried and sprout

God will never forget us – He has something unimaginable in mind for us.

We will do more than simply grit our teeth, hold on, and simply wait for things to return to the old normal. We will move forward, and we will be better as a result.

We all must walk through difficult times and those times will

our heavenly father knows that we suffer and will not abandon us

God will watch over and Shepherd you through these times of uncertainty and fear. . . He will fulfill His promises.

Our best days are ahead of us and not behind us.

The righteous are not given a pass that allows them to avoid the valleys of shadow

You can choose how you prepare and how you react

Return to what matters most

Make decisions based on what you can do

Airplane reference, sometimes clouds with come up or storms or whatever and we will need to get through them

With Christ at the helm things will not only be alright, they will be unimaginable

Focus on the things you can do, and not on the things you cannot.

Things will not only be alright, they will be unimaginable!

God holds us in the palm of His caring and compassionate hand.

 How Firm a Foundation

[smarti-at-smogwarts]

Elijah Creswell.

IDENTITY

Name: Elija Owen Cresswell.

Gender: Boy

Age: N/A ( varies) 

Birth Date:

Species: Lyanthrope/Werewolf

Blood Status: Half-Blood ( muggle dad and witch mother) 

Sexuality: Biromantic Asexual

Alignment: Neutral Good

Ethnicity: Brittish/Irish

Nationality: Brittish/Irish

Residence: Cresswell Residence, Brittain

Myer Briggs Personality Type:  INTP-T (  Turbulent Logistician. ) 

THE MAGE

 Wand: Cedar. Phoenix feather. Slightly rigid. 

Whenever I meet one who carries a cedar wand, I find strength of character and unusual loyalty. My father, Gervaise Ollivander, used always to say, ‘you will never fool the cedar carrier,’ and I agree: the cedar wand finds its perfect home where there is perspicacity and perception. I would go further than my father, however, in saying that I have never yet met the owner of a cedar wand whom I would care to cross, especially if harm is done to those of whom they are fond. The witch or wizard who is well-matched with cedar carries the potential to be a frightening adversary, which often comes as a shock to those who have thoughtlessly challenged them.

This is the rarest core type. Phoenix feathers are capable of the greatest range of magic, though they may take longer than either unicorn or dragon cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike. Phoenix feather wands are always the pickiest when it comes to potential owners, for the creature from which they are taken is one of the most independent and detached in the world. These wands are the hardest to tame and to personalise, and their allegiance is usually hard won.

Animagus: na/tbd

Misc Magical Abilities: tbd 

Boggart Form: Himself in wolf form.  Alternatively his parents and/or friends mauled at his feet. 

Riddikulus Form: The werewolf/corpses starts tap dancing. He has a hard time with it. Only works sometimes. 

Amortentia: ( what they smell like)  the ground after it rains, books, the woods, rosemary. 

Amortentia: ( what they smell) Freshly baked bread, peppermint, , something from his Love Interest.

Patronus: Deerhound ( analysis found here) has a hard time making a corporeal patronus for a while. 

Patronus Memory: His mother reading to him. 

Mirror of Erised: Him without his lycanrthropy. Later is him with a family.

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Defensive and Aiding/Assisting spells. 

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: Finn Wolfhard 

Game Appearance: n/a

Height: grows to be 5′10′’

Weight: a bit on the thin side 

Physique: Wiry, gangly, gets some muscle in his later years.

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Black

Skin Tone: Fair

Body Modifications: none

Scarring: Has scars on his torso from the werewolf attack

Inventory: (what do they carry on them?) An amulet with a rune his father gave him ( wears it on a leather cord) his books, parchment, tends to carry a sweater on him. Quills ( he keeps nibling at them when nervous so he winds up carrying multiple) After year 3 carries books on runes and codes and ciphers. ( they became a special interest.) 

Fashion: Prioritizes comfort over fashion. Tends to just throw on whatever he finds and go. He doesn’t mind wizarding fashion since one of his parents was magical but does prefer muggle clothes a bit. Often wears sweaters ( gets cold easily) under robes. His clothes are always kinda haphazard. 

ALLEGIANCES

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Ilvermorny House: NA

Affiliations/Organizations: Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry Of Magic. ( He either becomes a translator for runes or an auror or one first and then the other) 

Professions: Student. Life after Hogwarts tbd. 

HOGWARTS INFORMATION

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: O

Charms: E

DADA: A

Flying: A

Herbology: E

History of Magic: O

Potions: E

Transfiguration: E

Electives:

Study Of Ancient Runes: O

Divination: P

Care Of Magical Creatures: A

Quidditch: Sometimes plays friendlies or reserve  but not big into it. Not in the team but okay with playing a bit if his friends are into it. 

Extra Curricular: tbd.

Favourite Professors: tdb.

Least Favourite Professors: tbd.

RELATIONSHIPS

Father: Mathew Creswell. 

Mother: Leigh Cresswell ( nee Odair) 

Love Interest: tbd

Best Friends: tbd

Rival: n/a

Enemy: n/a

Dormmates: William Rosen. ( @unfortunate-arrow​ )

Pets:

Closest Canon Friends: tbd

Closest MC Friends: William Ronsen. Kit O’ Sheeran.( @unfortunate-arrow​ ) More to be added. 

BACKGROUND/HISTORY

Pre Hogwarts: He was born to elderly parents ( on the last years before his mother went through the change/became unable to have kids) They did their best with him and cherished him but it was a bit of a quiet and sometimes lonely life. He learned to be by himself and keep himself occupied as his parents got older as he grew. When he was 6 he was attacked and bitten by a werewolf, though he survived he had lycanthropy passed on to him. 

1st Year: He was kept at home even more due to his condition. Spent a lot of time with his parents. Struggled with the physical drain of lycanthropy. Begged his parents to let him go to Hogwarts and finally wore them down. Roomed with William Ronsen ( @unfortunate-arrow​) was lowkey afraid his dog could tell he was a werewolf.  Got real good at getting out of his room on full moon nights.

2nd Year: tbd Mostly just stresses about keeping his furry little secret a secret and not getting jumped or kicked out. Like. Stresses. A Lot.  

3rd Year: Took Divination ( did not do well ) Care Of Magical Creatures ( Did okay) and Ancient Runes ( absolutely fell in love with it) 

4th Year: One of his parents passes away. 

5th Year: tbd

6th Year: Started trying to decide what to do after Hogwarts. 

7th Year: tbd

Post-Hogwarts:

Old Age & Death: tbd.

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part ii

Here’s part ii! Please reblog and send your thoughts, I love hearing feedback! I was doing a ton of research on American immigration law, and it doesn’t look like Canadians technically need a visa for most work circumstances, but I’m taking it as a matter of artistic license.

https://slapshot-to-the-heart.tumblr.com/post/615257287896989696/flatbush-atlantic-part-i

part ii

October 5

“Mat, I’m in the middle of a meeting,” Chris said, glancing up at him with a bemused-yet-slightly-annoyed look on his face. 

Mat looked over at Cass, ducking his head and sheepishly tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Oh, yeah. For sure. I’m sorry, I should have knocked, but I got this letter, and. Yeah. I shouldn’t have interrupted, that was rude. I’m sorry.” Cass couldn’t help but let out a snicker at his rambling, and Mat turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. He held out his hand. She took it. “Sorry about that.” His cheeks colored. “I keep apologizing. I’m Mat Barzal.”

“Cass Cabrera Shaw,” she replied. 

“Cass is our new intern, so you’ll be seeing each other around. Hopefully not too often.” Chris said, nodding to where she sat in front of him. 

“I got the job?” Cass asked, her head jerking back to look at Chris. 

Chris nodded like it should have been obvious. “Cassidy. You’re more than qualified, you know the sport, you understand the responsibilities. You go to a top 5 law school. Yeah, you’re hired.” She blinked, still trying to take it all in. Chris turned to Mat. “Okay, Barzal, you’re up. What’s wrong?”

Mat scratched his neck. “Okay, so I know I should have looked into it sooner and taken responsibility for it. And I do, I mean, take responsibility for it. It’s just, I was in Vancouver for the summer and then vacation and then training camp and—”

Chris cut him off. “Barzal. What is it?”

“I missed the deadline for my visa renewal.” That sounds familiar, Cass thought ruefully. At least she wouldn’t be alone in her dumbassery.

Chris put his head in his hands.

Mat held up a hand. “Wait, it’s not as bad as it seems, I promise.”

“Try me.”

“I called whoever’s in charge, they left a number on the letter—”

“State Department,” Cass said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her hair when Mat looked back at her, a hint of a smile on his face. 

He nodded. “Thanks. Yeah, them. I called them and explained the situation, and they agreed to give me an extension.”

Chris cleared his throat. “And by ‘the situation,’ you mean…” He trailed off. 

“That I was an NHL player who wasn’t in the country when they sent reminder letters. I might have used the Commissioner’s name once or twice.” Mat said sheepishly. 

“And we all know how much weight Gary Bettman’s name carries with American immigration policy,” Chris deadpanned. “Okay, give me a second to think how we’re going to get this done. How much of the forms have you filled out?”

Mat flipped open the folder he had brought, scanning the pages. “Most of it.” At least he’s not entirely hopeless. “There were a couple things I wasn’t sure about, and some new stuff that I don’t remember from last time. I figured it was better to bring it in than try to submit it on my own and get it all horribly wrong.”

“Thank God for that,” Chris said, giving a half-smile. After another minute or so of thinking, he raised his head and looked to where Cassidy was still sitting, straight across the desk. “I saw on your transcript that you’ve taken several immigration law classes. Any fieldwork?” Chris asked. 

Cass nodded. “Yeah, there was a clinic run by the school that reviewed visa applications and other paperwork for recent immigrants, I volunteered there for a few months.”

“Good. How familiar are you with O1 visas?” He asked, looking in between Cassidy and Mat. 

“For extraordinary capability? I’ve studied them a little, I know that’s the kind that most NHL players are obviously on but I’m not an expert by any means,” she said.

Chris tapped his fingers on the desk, seemingly lost in thought, before his eyes flickered between her and Mat. “Okay. You’ll be running point on Mat’s visa renewal.” Cassidy’s face blanched. “It’s mostly done so it shouldn’t be too hard. But between you and me,” he paused, raising an eyebrow at Mat, “I wouldn’t trust this boy to fill out the paperwork to adopt a goldfish, so make sure you double-check everything he wrote in. Come to me or Richard with any questions, but I really do think you’ll be fine. Got it?”

Cass jerkily nodded her head, still trying to fully process. In the span of the last ten minutes, she had gotten a job that she thought she had no chance for and had been put in charge of a very delicate, very expensive, very important set of immigration paperwork for Mat Barzal. Mat Barzal, the 2018 Calder Trophy winner. Mathew Barzal, the future of the Islanders. No pressure. 

“I should probably give you my number,” Mat said, pulling out his phone and holding it out to her. She looked at him with confusion, head tilted to one side. Mat’s face flushed and he rushed to clarify. “Like for the work stuff. In case I have questions about the visa or you need me to translate my chicken scratch for you.”

Now it was Cass’ turn to blush, gently taking his phone out of his hands and navigating to the messages. “I’ll text myself, that way you’ll have my number too. For questions,” she paused briefly, “or anything else.” Cass was typically never that bold, but there was something about the way Mat cracked a smile that made her sure she had made the right decision.

Chris coughed, bringing their attention back to the desk and the issue at hand. “I’ll go and make a copy of these for your records, Mat,” he said, standing up and reaching over the desk for the file with the visa forms, “and Cass, you’ll be working off of the originals.” He glanced between the pair. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” 

Chris closed the door behind him, and Mat leaned up against one of the filing cabinets. “So, you’re working for the team now?”

“Yeah.” Cass nodded. “I’m excited, it seems like it’ll be a great position, but I think the prospect of my betrayal might be too much for my poor dad. Working for the enemy and all.”

Mat let out a laugh. “Rangers fan?”

“Big one. I’m from Connecticut so he grew up with the Whalers mostly, but when they folded the family allegiance switched. And when Mike Shaw is in on something, he’s all in. I’m fearing for my well being,” she joked dryly, the corner of her mouth twitching up. 

“I think you’ll be fine,” he said, looking up at her. “Tell your dad that I promise we’re not as bad as we seem. Tito, maybe,” he added, wiggling his hand. “But I’m a good guy, as long as you promise not to sell off our training secrets and pass formations to the highest bidder.”

Cass held up three fingers. “I give you my word as a former Girl Scout that I won’t leak the absolute mountains of information I have access to.”

“Pinky promise?” Mat asked, holding out his hand. 

It was Cass’ turn to laugh, and she stood up from her chair, leaning over and interlocking their fingers. “Pinky promise.”

Chris chose that particular moment to walk back in, raising his eyebrows briefly. “What’s going on here?”

Mat cleared his throat. “It took a lot of convincing, but I got Cass to pinky promise me that she won’t sell us out to the Rangers.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Apparently there was a rash of double-crossing by interns that I wasn’t aware of,” Chris said, handing over the sheaf of copies to Mat. “And Cassidy, I’ll see you tomorrow at 10?” Cass internally groaned, knowing that it would take well over an hour on the train. Still, she nodded curtly. “Of course.”

He smiled, reaching over the desk and shaking her hand. “I’ll put these,” he said, gesturing to the forms, “in your desk tomorrow. You’ll be working out in the main area, we’ll get you set up when you come in. Other than that, you’re good to go. Glad to have you on board. Genuinely.” 

Cass leaned down to pick up her backpack, walking out the door and into the elevator with Mat by her side. “So, I’ll call you if I’ve got questions on any of this, right?” He asked, folding the papers and tucking them into his inside jacket pocket. 

She nodded. “Yeah. This one is a little different but I’ve done a lot of filling out forms and revision for this before, so I don’t think it’ll be too much of an issue. If I don’t know the answer to something, I can find it for you. I might have some questions tomorrow, you guys have a game, right?” Cass asked. Mat nodded. “So obviously I know you’ll have morning skate and be by the arena most of the day, but try to have your phone with you when you can so we don’t have to play phone tag, y’know?”

He smiled, holding the front door open for her as they existed onto the busy street. “I’ll do my best, Cass. See you soon.”

As promised, as soon as Mat had turned the corner, Cass pulled out her phone, clicking on Samaira’s contact. She picked up on the first ring. “Samaira, you’re not going to believe what my afternoon has been like.” 

She headed straight to her room after getting home, managing to squeeze in a few hours of reading before getting started on dinner. Pasta was easy to make for everyone; Alicia was lactose intolerant and Stella kept kosher, so simplicity was often key in group meals. Sautéeing some collard greens with onions and garlic, she turned her head towards the rooms and hollered to the rest of the apartment. “DINNER’S ALMOST READY!”

Much to her chagrin, Cass got up bright and early the next day, shoveling down a bowl of cereal before grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

October 12 (fri)

The Islanders had a weeklong road trip, so Cass had been reassigned to contract review since she was all but done with Mat’s visa renewal. She glanced at her watch, seeing that it was nearly noon. Nearly noon meant nearly lunchtime. She hadn’t figured out what she wanted to have for lunch quite yet, but food carts in New York were a dime a dozen; while she wasn’t being paid for the internship, she was given a stipend for lunch and travel expenses that she took full advantage of. Just as she flipped the page over, the office door opened. Assuming that it was some assistant coming for Chris or one of the other lawyers returning from a different office, she didn’t pay it too much mind. That was, however, until the figure stopped by her desk, coughing to get her attention. “Yeah?” She questioned, looking up and tilting her head in confusion when she saw that it was Mat. 

“I had a question about one of the employment history sections, and the office said you’d be here today. I brought food,” he said, holding up a paper back emblazoned with the name of a local Chinese restaurant. 

“Oh God, bless your heart,” she said, pulling over another chair. “I’m starving. Sit down, walk me through it. What’s got you confused?” It didn’t occur to Cass that he could have easily asked her over text.

October 17 (tues)

Sitting at her desk, Cass was trying (and failing) to finish her notes before midnight when her phone lit up with a text. And then another one. And then another. Rolling her eyes, she picked it up, expecting something from one of her younger siblings or a friend from back home. Instead, it was Mat. Hew brow instantly furrowed, swiping up to see what was the matter. He had sent two pictures, both screenshots from newspapers. Florida Man Arrested for Throwing Gator at Mother-in-Law, the first one read. Florida Man Charged with Reckless Endangerment for Filling Nursing Home Koi Pond with Baby Gators, said the other. Do u think it’s the same guy? He asked. 

Rolling her eyes, Cass wrote out a reply. No doubt. Criminals have patterns. 

So do u think all Florida men are obsessed with gators or just this one?

Gator cult. She tapped send, picking it back up almost immediately. Obviously. 

October 21 (sat)

The plane back from Montréal is about to leave. Any album recs?

Mat and Cass had been texting back-and-forth for the past few days, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he asked her. 

Wasteland, Baby - Hozier, Electric Light - James Bay. Amidst the Chaos - Sara Bareilles if ya wanna get a little spicy. I’m mostly an indie kinda girl, give me a sec and I’ll send you my playlist. 

Can’t wait, Mat responded. Cass loved music, and always found it to be something intensely personal. So what was it about Mat that made her so willing to share?

October 23 (mon)

Cass hated getting up early, but there were some things better than sleep. You wanna get coffee before your classes? Mat had texted the night before. Coffee was one of them. Grabbing her backpack and tugging on her favorite pair of ankle boots, she headed out the door at 7:02. 

“Where are you headed this early?” Alicia asked quizzically, her own tote slung over one shoulder. Ryanne almost always left the earliest, usually having to get to her rounds well before anyone else had woken up. 

“Mat and I are going out for coffee,” she said, picking up her keys from the nail by the door. 

Alicia wiggled her eyebrows. “Oooooh, Cass has a daaaateee,” she said in a sing-song voice. 

Cass’s cheeks burned. “It’s not a date, I’m just helping him out with some paperwork. He’s asking me out as a friend. Just because he’s cute—”

Alicia cut her off. “AHA! So you DO admit that you think he’s cute?”

Cass groaned. “Yeah, okay, he’s cute. You happy?” Alicia nodded. “But just because I think he’s attractive doesn’t mean that this is going to be anything other than friends getting together before work, okay?” 

Her friend shrugged. “Whatever you say, Cass. Have fun, be safe! Use prot—” Cass closed the door as quickly as she could without slamming it. Forty minutes later, she was walking up to the coffee shop, greeting Mat with a hug. 

“Sorry if I kept you waiting,” Cass said. 

Mat shook his head. “You didn’t, don’t apologize.” He opened the door for her, hand ghosting over the small of her back as he followed her in line. A few minutes later, Mat was at the register, ordering a cappuccino. He turned to her. “What do you want, Cass?” 

“Mat, you don’t have to pay for me,” Cass said, pulling out her wallet. 

Mat gently pushed her hand down. “I was the one who suggested it, Cass. I’m paying the bill.” He handed over his card to the barista, turning back to her with a smile. “You can get it next time.” She laughed. 

“Fine, you win. Coconut milk latté.”

Oct 25 (wed)

“Afternoon pick-me-up?” Cass looked up from her desk, confused but excited to see Mat in front of her desk. 

“Huh?”

He held up a coffee cup, a speckled white-and-blue reusable. “You mentioned something about needing me to sign the last page or something? I brought you coffee, the cup’s for you too. Place says you’ll save 25¢ whenever you use it.” 

“Yeah,” Cass said slowly, “and you faxed it over, right? Kristie said they got it in this morning.” Kristie was the office assistant, and had handed the page to Cass right as she had walked in the door half an hour prior.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Mat said, seemingly flustered. “I was worried I might have made a mistake on it, so I thought I’d come over and double-check.”

“You’re worried you made a mistake signing your own name?” Cass didn’t quite understand it, but there was something really endearing about him wanting to come down and check it himself rather than just calling her or emailing Chris. “Okay then,” she said, leaning over her laptop to grab the folder. She traded it for the coffee in Mat’s hand, the Post-it note on the side of the cup catching her eye. Coconut milk latté. He remembered. 

Oct 26 (thurs)

What are your thoughts on sushi? Cass got a text from Mat as she was about to get out of her environmental law lecture. The professor had already started packing up her things, so she risked a message back. 

As a concept or as a food?

The food haha

All positive, love sushi!

I know this great place in Chelsea, want to grab dinner later?

You don’t have a late practice or anything with the guys? From what she had gathered, even when it wasn’t a game day, Mat would usually get an extra workout in after practice or go out with Tito and some of the rest of the team.

Nope :) Nothing after 2

Cass bit her lip, weighing her options as she shut her laptop and exited the lecture hall. She wasn’t reading too much into it, was she? Friends got dinner together all the time, it wasn’t weird for him to have asked her. It was normal. Typical friend stuff. Sure, she liked him. She liked him a lot. But it wasn’t worth jeopardizing her career and reputation to try and fabricate something that probably wasn’t even there. Sounds good! I should be able to get there 6ish if that works for you?

Perfect! He wrote back, I’ll send you the address.

Les and Fiona caught up to her that afternoon after she practically ran out of their review session the second it was done. “Woah woah woah,” Fiona asked, catching Cass just as she was about to exit the library. “Where are you headed off to so quick?”

Cass tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, scrunching up her nose. “Getting dinner with Mat.” 

Les wiggled his eyebrows. “Ooooh, your man?”

Cass went red. “He’s not my man! He just asked if I wanted to get sushi. And I’m hungry, and he said he’s paying. So I said yes.”

“But you like him,” Les said, as if he was stating the obvious. Which, in a way, he was?

She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah. It’s hard not to. But he asked me out as friends. It’s not a date. If it was a date, he would have said so? Right?” She was starting to ramble.

Fiona reached out to touch her shoulder, rubbing her thumb back and forth. “Maybe. But maybe not. It’s possible that he is into you, but you and I both know that’s a question best answered by someone other than us,” she pointed at her and Les. “And even if he doesn’t, it’s still a free dinner.” 

Cass let out a small smile. “You’re right.” She glanced at her watch. “I told him I’d be there by 6, so I probably should get going if I want to catch the train in time.” She gave each of them a brief hug. “See you next week!”

“GOOD LUCK!” Tyler hollered as she turned the corner. Cass’ cheeks burned, and she was beginning to realize why.

---

Cass got home from the restaurant just after 9, trying desperately to make sense of the past few weeks. Getting ahead of herself had never led to anything good, and much though she wanted to, Cass wasn’t about to put words in Mat’s mouth. But he had been the one to suggest dinner, and he had picked up the tab again. “You’re in law school,” Mat had said with a shrug when the check came. “I’m not about to make you pay for your own food when you don’t have to.” Shaking her head and pulling out the kettle to make a cup of tea, she tried again to rationalize everything. “We’re friends. I’m doing him a solid by helping him out with this paperwork, he’s just trying to be nice and pay me back. Which he doesn’t need to do, because it’s my job. But he’s nice, so he’s doing it anyway. Because we’re friends.” Frustrated, she grabbed her mug, walking back to her bedroom and barely paying any mind to the splashes of near-boiling water that hit the ground. 

Oct. 27 (fri)

It was a quarter to 6, and Cass couldn’t wait to get out of the office. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her job. It was incredible and she was so thankful for the opportunity. It was the fact that Mat fucking Barzal had been on her mind all day and she had been finding it so damn hard to concentrate on research and contracts and precedent when she was busy trying to sift through her own feelings. Cass wasn’t a particularly insecure person; like anyone else, she had those days, but it wasn’t really a matter of her thinking he was “out of her league” or that she wasn’t good enough for him. She knew that the whole concept of “leagues” was dumb and classist, but there was something about the whole dynamic that she couldn’t quite shake, and couldn’t quite tell if it was something good or not. It was five minutes to six, and she couldn’t stop her fingers tapping on her desk, waiting to be set free. Waiting for her mind to stop racing. Waiting for her heart to stop pounding.

She spent the next five minutes trying in vain to get through a paper Chris had sent her — she had even broken out her neon highlighters — but nothing was working. Thankfully, Chris chose that moment to stick his head out of his office and call to her. “Cass?” Her head perked up. “I’ve got some files to email you, mind coming in for a sec before you leave?” She nodded, pushing out of her chair and crossing the room. 

“How was your day?” Chris asked, pulling up the files to email her. 

“Uh, pretty good!” Cass said. “Fridays are relatively light for me, I had a morning meeting with the law review and then headed over here. Mat and I got sushi last night, so that was nice.”

Chris looked up over his laptop. “You and Mat?”

Cass nodded, brows furrowing. “Yeah. Is that an issue?” It was never something she had bothered considering, but — 

“Not that I can think of, no,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re spending a lot of time together, though, have you noticed that?” 

“Yeah, I mean, we’re friends, but I didn’t think that was a problem—” Chris held up a hand, cutting her off with a smile. 

“I’m not so sure that what Mat wants is a friendship, Cassidy.” He paused. “My son’s about his age, and please feel free to stop me if you’d like, but this is exactly how he acted when he met Iris.” 

“Iris?” Cass questioned. 

“His fiancée. If I’m reading the situation right, and I think I am, the poor boy’s head over heels for you, Cass.” He clicked his mousepad. “Just sent them over, try to go through them by Monday.”

She nodded, seemingly in a daze as she picked up her bag and walked out of the office, pulling out her phone. 

To: Mat

Are you free later?

Oct 28. (sat)

Tapping her foot nervously, Cass fiddled with her phone just to give her hands something to do. They had grabbed breakfast before she had to head to the office and he had to go to morning skate, and she had stolen the check while he was in the bathroom. But she still hadn’t brought up what Chris had said, or for that matter what Les or Samaira or Alicia had been pestering her about for the better part of the past month. 

Mat returned to the table, snapping Cass out of her thoughts. “You ready to head out?” It was only just past nine, so the plan had been to take a walk around Prospect Park before they had to take off. Cass nodded awkwardly, grabbing her coat and scarf from the back of the chair and looping it around her neck. Mat’s brow furrowed in confusion, but if he suspected anything, he didn’t say so. He walked a few steps ahead of Cass, holding the door open for her. They walked in silence for a block or two; not an awkward silence and not a comfortable one, but some kind of strange liminal space in between the two where it was clear that neither of them was really able to read the room. Mat’s knuckles brushed up against her own.

As they crossed the street into the gardens, Cass took a deep breath and looked up at him. It’s now or never. “What are we doing?” She breathed, so softly that Mat wouldn’t have heard if he hadn’t been standing scarcely a foot away. 

“We’re going to a park?” Mat questioned. 

She wrung her hands, trying to avoid looking at him. “I mean, what are we doing. You and I.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t want you to think that I’m reading too much into things, or that I haven’t enjoyed getting to know you and spend time with you because I have, but I just need to know what there is going on between us. If there is anything going on between us.”

Mat shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning up against a lamppost. “I mean, I’d like there to be. I’m into you, Cass, I thought I had made that clear,” he added with a single laugh. Cass gave him a quizzical look. “Do you think I actually needed to come into the office every time I dropped in on you? That I’d ask just anyone for music recs? That I asked you out to coffee or dinner just as friends? Cassidy,” he said, standing upright and taking a tentative step towards her, “I don’t even know Tito’s coffee order. But I know yours.” He took another step forwards when she didn’t move back, faces so close that their noses were almost touching. “I wouldn’t ever want to push you into something you weren’t ready for. But Cass,” he tilted her chin up with his hand, “I’m all in if you are.”

She took a shaky breath, willing the voices inside of her head to still themselves for just one moment so she could gather her thoughts. “Mat, I want this,” Cass said, gesturing between the two of them with one hand, the other wound with frustration in her curls. “You have no idea how much I want this. But I work for the team. We both do. And I can’t have anyone thinking that I’m here for anything but the job, that I’m a puck bunny or will be distracted from my work and go run off with my boyfriend or whatever you are—” She cut herself off abruptly. “Trotz might get mad at you, sure. I don’t think it would really matter on your end, though. You wouldn’t face any actual consequences. I’m expendable to this team. You’re not.”

 Mat’s hand came up to cup her cheek, one thumb swiping away a tear gently, so gently, that she hadn’t even realized had leaked out of her eye. “You’re not expendable, Cass. Not to me, not to the team, not to anyone who’s ever bothered getting to know you. You are such an incredible woman and I know you know it, but sometimes it doesn’t seem like you really believe it. If this is scary for me, and it is, I know it must be downright terrifying for you. And I know you’re worried how it would look, us being together, what the team or Chris or whoever would think, but you need to remember to let your talent speak for itself. If I have a shitty game, miss an easy shot or whatever, there’s always the people who say that Trotz should move me down a line, or that I should be traded, or whatever. And there’s always going to be those people. But if you keep your head in the game—”

“Alright, Troy Bolton,” Cass said, finally giving him a watery smile. 

“You realize that if I’m Troy, you’re Gabriella?” Mat asked, raising one eyebrow, hand still on her cheek as the other perched on her waist. Cass leaned into his touch, wrinkling her nose. “Maybe that was a bad metaphor, but Cass, you’re brilliant. You’re such a good student and you’re so dedicated at work. You’re going to make an incredible lawyer. Everyone sees that. And I absolutely respect that you’re worried about what our relationship might do for your career,” He swallowed hard, skating his hand down her arm to hold her hand. “And I’m not sure what else I could say other than what I already have. But you’re good, so good, and they’d be idiots for letting you go over something like this.”

Cass swallowed. “They say some things are worth the risk.”

“Are we gonna do this?” Mat’s hand moved to the small of her back, leaning down so their lips were almost touching, barely, not quite. 

“We’re gonna do this.” Cass closed the gap. 

[igotdauntless]

DIVERGENT STORY REQUESTS

I am now taking requests for divergent imagines/short stories/fanfics/AUs.

___________________________________________________________

You can request any make character from the following-

Eric Coulter

Tobias Eaton (Four)

Peter Hayes

Uriah Pedrad

Will

Al

Mathew (From Allegiant)

Although of course, Eric is my favorite to write about. Don't hate me for it it it's just fun 😂😁

___________________________________________________________

You can request from the following:

Character X Reader

Character X OC

Alternate universe story

You can also ask me to come up with a story of my choosing with a prompt, idea or quote!

___________________________________________________

When requesting an X OC story, please list:

OC's name and gender

OCs basic appearance and personality

Who your OC will be paired with

What you want to happen in the imagine/your chosen prompt

_____________________________________________________

When requesting an X Reader imagine, please list:

The character the reader will be paired with.

What's going to happen/chosen prompt

I will work on up to 4 at one time!

[lanegrooms]

Mystery Babylon Revisited 03: Notes from “Egyptian Magic”

Part 3 of Bill Cooper’s Mystery Babylon series:

These are not the beliefs of Bill Cooper or myself. These are the beliefs of the mysteries schools that make up what is known as, “Mystery Babylon” or the Babylonian religions.

Notes Below:

Mystery Babylon: Hour 03, Egyptian Magic [Bill Cooper’s “The Hour of the Time” Radio Broadcast]

“These are historic broadcasts, and by making these broadcasts, I have sealed my fate.”

Intro: More on the Sun

The sun enter each house of the zodiac at the 30th degree, and leaves in the 33rd.

A Freemason is not told the truth about the object of his worship until he obtains the 30th degree.

Thus Gods Sun is said to enter into his ministry at 30 and dies at 33.

This is why the 33rd degree is the highest, because no man can be higher than the Sun.

background lore

When viewing the Sun’s reflection on the water at dawn or sunset, you are witnessing the Sun walking on water.

Ancient man believed the Sun controlled the weather.

God’s Sun did this as he crossed the sky in his boat.

The boat of Isis.

Ra the sun god a.k.a. Osiris, wears a sun disk on his head.

symbolizing his power in the heavens

the boat is made of a serpent and bears his eye

seated on a pedestal representing Maet, or divine order.

Every king, prince, lord, dictator, national flag, coat of arms, citation, etc... uses the sun as a primary symbol.

Thus God’s Sun is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

They see Christianity as a perversion of these mysteries.

in ancient times, months followed the phases of the moon.

The scorpion betrays the Sun in autumn

The original October surprise.

Thirty moons of silver.

Scorpion: Judas

1307, Oct 13th in France, more on this later

Earth is considered the Mother

Rain is the fertilizing agent from the Father in Heaven

Intercourse between Earth and Heaven

The Canaan fertility rite: The Marriage Feast of Canaan.

over 5,000 years old

Egyptian Magic Background

Reiteration of Sun mythology

The child Horus was called the Logos: the Word

The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.

The only begotten of the Father

The Word was lost.

The symbol of the Word today is the Obelisk.

The stone

The lost word of Freemasonry (more later)

Horus was later in Egyptian history was given another name: Isos/Isis: Jesus

If you want to follow the life of God’s Sun

You must follow the Sun/ face to the east

You must be born again

A former president did not directly claim to be a Christian, but to have been born again.

Life is symbolized by coming out of the water.

They hate Christians

and you are in danger

Old Testament:

Malaki: God is the Sun with healing in his wings.

Mathew and Luke: God’s Sun wanting to gather all under his wings

In ancient Egypt pictured the sun with wings

Jeremiah: God the Potter

Isaiah: You are the Potter, we are the clay

UFOs

The images of “winged craft” depict the Sun

Ancient alien theory and UFO theories is compromised by masonic forces.

Man is considered sheep/flock

Kings: sheperds

Sheep:

blindly follow

born to be fleeced

lead to the slaughter

the skin is worn about the Freemason’s waist

the 23rd Psalm: go to sleep

Rod and Staff

Pharaohs wore the symbol of the rod and the staff on their chest.

The rod to beat with

The staff to lead

Note: Bill Cooper’s informants have infiltrated the lodge.

The god Nimu fashioned man from clay.

in some depiction Thoth is pictured also, marking the length of man’s life on a staff.

Morning Sun: Horus; At high noon: Aman-Ra

Called in 2 Corr, and other places, God is still called Amen.

Amon was said at the end of their prayers.

Reminder: We have only just begun to uncover the worship of Ba’al or Baal or B’el

Ba: the Sun

al/el: god

Reminder: Wake Up Now.

Bill states his allegiances

God

Family

State

If you stand for nothing, you are already dead.

Egyptian Magic Continued

The use of magic is expressed in the Osirian Cycle

The redemption of the human soul

Isis was the patroness of the arts of Egyptian Magic

Applies the most potent charm when she resurrected Osiris

The gods of Egypt were part of a magical system

A cerimonial Kaballah

an elaborate metaphysical system

Egyptologist have no clue

Call them superstition

The Curse of Aman-Ra

The opening of King Tut’s Tomb

All but one who entered the cursed tomb died within a year

7 french authors and journalists died within 2 years of the visit.

A mark was found on the mummies face

a similar mark appeared on one of the tomb’s openers

Over the entrance of the Tomb was a magical tablet: The Stella of Malediction

O ye beings from Above;

O ye beings from Below;

Phantoms riding the breaths of men;

Ye of the crossroads and of the great highways;

Wanders beneath the shade of Night;

And ye from the abysses of the West on the fringes of the twilight;

Dwellers in the caverns of obscurity who rouse terrors and shuttering;

And ye walkers by night whom I will not name, friends of the moon;

and ye intangible inhabitants of the world of Night;

O people, O denizens of the tombs, all of you approach and be my witnesses and respondents,

Let the hand raised against my form be withered;

Let them be destroyed who attack my name, my foundation, my effigies, the images like unto me.

If Egypt’s magic gave them power over nature’s laws can we take them lightly?

Also look into the Cleopatra Tomb Curse.

After news of the curse, collectors of Egyptian artifacts began to send them into the British museums.

Few articles received had a return address or name.

“Scare gifts”

The priestess of Aman-Ra

Pictures taken of the Casket placed in a cabinet

the glass turned to dust

They found what was assumed to be a poisonous dust.

Although it defies analysis

Later it was blamed on a virus

Egyptians inherited the religion of Babylon.

Mystery Babylon

The Ancient Mystery Schools claim to have brought some of this forward

The Bible speaks of Pharaoh’s priest turning staves into snakes

Magic is to old to be explained away by tricks

highly educated scientific men

psychological impression

sent spirits forth from the body

read the secrets of the soul

employed music

perfected embalming the dead

Priests said to possess these power

walk the air

handle fire

live under water

read the past

see the future

harmlessly suffer mutilation

make themselves invisible

cure disease

Compare to Mystics of Tibet

tree withered by a pointed finger

dead raised to life

man surrounded by a blue aura

man lifted into the air by pure mental effort

Plato and Pythagorus were initiated into the Egyptian Mysteries

They said that the initiated priest was able to manipulate the seen and unseen to his will

the highest form of magic was the worship of the gods

able to ascend to a higher state and understanding in which high feats of magic were possible

Alister Crowley said the same thing.

Gen. Pike: the absolute science of nature and it’s laws

from this knowledge arises occult science

from this knowledge arises the theurgic arts

(more on Albert Pike later)

Men like Crowley have proven that the Mysteries have been passed down through the ages.

These arts are kept by those who call themselves the Guardians of the Secrets of the Ages.

“Just Wake Up”

[siremasterlawrence]

The Fall of Bane Mathew’s Part 1.

His name was bane he was an asswipe Italian and republic man that lived next door to me. He was often scene making horrifying speeches, posting campaign signs on his lawn and confronting me. I was leveling for work today when he came out of the house and a leather jacket. As he headed to his motorcycle I tried to avoid him as I raced past him.

Unfortunately he saw me pulled his sleek black Harley Davidson motorcycle in front of me. He jumped off his motorcycle and he tried to confront me as I still tried to evade him. He pushed me back and then shoved me to the ground. He then used his hands and feet to pin me to ground so I couldnot escape.

I kicked him in the shins and then ran back into my house. I called in sink today after calling the cops and I knew I would stay in doors all day. I was the only black guy on my block and I had enough of this crap. I looked over to see the box my uncle left me for after he passed. I opened it there was a small note attached to the watch Inside as it said press the red button.

There was massive knock on my door and then he banged the door down. He walked in anger in his eyes. He walked in that stupid leather jacket and then he grabbed me by my collar. I got scared as I pressed the red button and suddenly the man froze in time. I screamed let me go and he did standing frozen in time.

“Now listen carefully to me Bane Mathew’s it’s time you get an attitude adjustment and fast. Your behavior was not acceptable at all because you should be bowing to your black superior. I am your Lord, Master, King and God who lives to serve me in all levels. Your mind, body, soul, life, property and existence belong to me now forever.” I said.

“Now take off your stupid jacket and throw it to me. Kneel before me as you surrender to me and beg me for forgiveness. Swear your allegiance to me forever, kiss my feet, and now kiss my hand. look up at me and see the amazing man that you are madly in love with and adore me. I am your world and your everything.” I said to him.

I told him to strip off his clothes in sexy but over top striptease. Make me happy I then pushed him his back facing wall and my heart beating. I punched him in the stomach as I looked into his eyes and kissed him again. He smiled as I pushed him on to the coach and climbed on top of him grasping at his body.

“Now look at me you will obey all I command go get your suit cuffs, bow tie, pair jeans and pants. When you get back you are going to do the perfect attempt at being a a super chippendale guy.” I commanded him as he rushed back home and then brought back the objects for me. I made grab my tools and fuse the door before me that he broke down.

He fixed the door and then got dressed for me. He dimmed my lights as he did a super sexy striptease dance and started to gyrate all around the living room. I hit his butt as I grabbed it and I pulled him into a deep kiss. He kiss me deeply back and forth deeper each time till there was no end.

I commanded him to go take a shower and then get his ass back here. He kissed me again as he rushed back to the shower and then returned after a hot bath. I told him to drop the towel and he did it automatically no questions.