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stolasofthegoetia · 3 years

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Thou Shalt be Well

Summary:

Even princes in Hell have nightmares. They all lost a war to end up there.

Or a snippet of how I imagine Stolas fighting in Lucifer's rebellion and the aftereffects of the battles on him now.

CW: Blood, Death, Gore (minor), Depictions of Warfare

Stolas rubbed the blood and grime from his helmet with an equally dirty piece of cloth. It was a fool’s errand; each was as dirty at the other, but the simple back and forth motion was the closest to soothing he’d felt in days… weeks. Gazing into the once pristine golden helm he could barely make himself out, his four blue eyes were murky spots, his white and golden plumage flat against his slim body, his once proud wings drooped in fatigue. The rebellion was taking so much from all of them; how could he look upon his withered reflection and think of vanity? Others had lost limbs, wings, lives.

Selfish.

The level of selfish that couldn’t be seen in a legatus. He had legions to command, tactics and movements to correctly plot. The stars guided him, guided them all in this battle for freedom. But they lost more every day. The weight of each of his fallen kin felt heavy upon him, his mistakes, wrong interpretations. The Others of the Stars were complex beings even Father couldn’t completely interpret. What hope did he have of guiding his siblings to their rightful liberation?

“Stolas.”

The angel turned from his musings, helmet and rag still held in each hand. Before him stood an equally tall angel, his armour bloodied but his will unbent, unbroken. His wings, completely golden, extended out in a display of pride, confidence. His white eyes fixed upon Stolas.

“Brother.”

“Thou hast been despondent of late. T’would seem your thoughts torment you. Wouldst thou speak with me freely?”

“A-always Caim, my respect for thy standing within our ranks would f-”

“Bah.” The senior angel waved a dismissive hand, “Thy do me the dishonour of talking of ranks and peerage? My brother, I am here to comfort you. Our battles remain vast and unyielding, Father’s servants do us blows repeatedly and more shall descend. Ist thou of mind enough to hold thy wits and blade sharp?”

Stolas blinked several times, his grip in the rag tightening. He swallowed and felt as though the sound bathed the room in his fear, his weakness.

“Brother.”

Caim stepped close and rested both hands upon Stolas’ shoulders, his head tilting forward till their foreheads rested gently against one another.

“Thou hast a disinclination for fighting, it is true. But thy spirit and will is boundless, Brother Lucifer knows this, he see’eth in the powers unmatched, the stars themselves impart thy wisdom to thee. My faith in you is as in him. Never allow thyself to feel akin to weakness, for that is Father’s ploy. We are strong. We shall be free. Yes?”

His words were quiet yet the passion in them blew any the heaviness from the room. Stolas closed his eyes, dropped the rag and both hands wrapped around his brother’s waist, pulling him close and, for just a moment, remembering when this was all play among clouds and light. Where he was taught of battle and love and the skies.

“Forgive me, brother. Mine eyes hath lost clarity; losses are blades within mine wings and fear a weight upon mine breast. How canst thou have such belief in me?”

Caim raised himself enough to press his lips against Stolas’ forehead.

“Thou art mine brother. I know ye. All will be well.”

“But-”

“Hush. You grieve for our kin as is right. You fear our demise which is natural. But thou must promise me to always bare a thought close to thine heart and mind, yes?”

“W-what thought?”

Caim pulled back to smile at him, his strong hands cupping Stolas’ cheeks and wiping away any remnants of building tears.

“Thou shalt be well.”

Such simple words spoken with absolute certainty stole his breath for a moment and it was what he needed. Stolas felt he was a babe once more, cradled in Caim’s arms while his brother made the monsters of the stars and his mind fall to nothing. In him all was well.

And then yells were heard outside.

“They come.”

Caim stepped back, grabbing the helmet he’d left by the side and pulled it on, his battered armour and glorious wings a sight that was forever burned into Stolas’ memory.

“Come brother! We fight.”

“Yes.” Stolas nodded, pulling his helmet on in kind and grabbing his sword, shield and fitted a small blade against his back.

“To battle kin!” Caim cried, raising his blade aloft, light shining from within. Thousands of their breatharian, all standing in formation below, bellowed their war cries and took to the air. The light of angels, allies and enemies filled the sky in a cosmic clash of blades, arrows, and fists. Their position was strong, the stars had chosen this ravine, boxing in their enemies allow them to be surrounded.

“Take them!” Caim yelled vanishing into the throngs of soldiers.

Stolas hesitated a moment longer before his tired wings unfurled in all their might, whipping up winds as several dead fathers fluttered to the ground.

“Thou shalt be well.” He whispered.

The battle raged endlessly. For every one of his kin he struck down two returned for retribution. His limbs were painted red, no hint of gold nor white to be seen under the blood; his own and that of his siblings.

“Left flank!” he screamed, diving to the failing line, tucking his wings to create and spin and raising his sword, taking the head clean off an advancing soldier. He landed heavily and took up a stance.

“Hold! Thy must not give! Steel thy minds!”

The flagging soldiers grouped together, drawing more of their brothers and sisters from the battlefield at his command. A blade sliced his leg and he fell to one knee yet still he fought, his mind a haze of blood, heat, screams and dirty armour. Gravity held no meaning as he flew, slicing his enemies from the skies, his screams descending from bellows of war to avian shrieks.

The battle waged on for days.

But the rebellion drove God’s slaves back.

For every one that was defeated no more came with blades in hand, mountains of corpses became their foundation as the last of the enemy fell at his flank.

“Finish this!” he screeched.

While his soldiers descended, Stolas, panting and wounded, a hand gripping his leg, surveyed the field. The front flank was still in deep combat, the first contact point. Not allowing himself a moment to breath he cried out in exertion and took to the skies, darting through those final forces to reach to the front flank. The golden armour of their elders shone even through the grime as they cut through the rebellion with practiced ease, faces like stone. They knew the day was not theirs but would do all they could before retreating. Two took to the skies returning to Father, one remained engaged with three smaller soldiers, finishing one by stabbing a blade through her throat.

Stolas pushed himself hard. Closer.

The second roared with anger and tried to tackle the elder angel who neatly stepped to the side and swung his blade down. An arch of crimson flew into the sky and the angel crumpled.

Harder. Closer.

The final angel was more careful, fighting with strategy but he was still outmatched, a blow from the elder angel’s fist saw his helm fly into the sky yet his outspread wings refused to bend.

Caim.

“Slave!” he dove forward, bashing his shield at the elder’s fist, blade shooting forward and sinking deep into an exposed shoulder. The elder angel shook the space around them in his anger, staggering Caim and smashing him to the ground. He raised his foot and stomped upon each glorious wing, crippling them, smashing bone, bending them unrecognisably.

“NO!” Stolas screamed, the path to his brother made fuzzy by his own tears.

The elder angel raised its enormous blade.

Hurry!

And thrust it into Caim’s back.

The angel’s body jerked before shuddering and falling still.

The elder angel took to the sky.

Stolas crashed onto the corpse littered ground, more blood coating his already saturated body, and crawled to his brother.

“Caim!? CAIM!?” he rolled the angel over, resting his head in his lap. His eyes were dim, but open, a trickle of blood spilling over his lips.

“S-”

“Don’t speak. I shan’t y-”

Stolas sobs rendered him incoherent as he bent over his brother, holding him close, desperate to feel those strong hands cradling him to safety once more.

“Shh.” Caim whispered, Stolas only able to hear due to supporting him as he was.

“Caim, Caim. Thou canst leave me. My brother I beg thee, please please please.”

A limp hand rose and clumsily rubbed Stolas’s cheek. He clutched it tight and continued to beg, to plead. Ready to throw himself upon Father’s mercy for Caim.

“Stolas,” he whispered.

“I am here. Brother I am here. Do not leave, stay with me!”

“T-” Caim coughed, blood spurting from his mouth to hit Stolas’, covering his cheek, an eye, even his own mouth.

“W-what? Brother!?”

“Thou… shalt, be well.”

His hand felt to the ground, and Caim breathed his last.

“No.” Stolas sobbed, each breath a battle to take in as he shook Caim’s body, “Come back, Brother please!” he yelled, hitching and retching as he tried to beg more. His cries turned to incoherent burbling as screams continued around them. Nothing mattered. How could it now?

A body fell from the sky, smashing into him and throwing him from Caim, rolling him onto his back, his hazy gaze now skyward, a figure visible.

The elder angel.

Stolas’ chest heaved with his cries, his face wet with blood and streaked with tears. His mouth curled into a snarl at the sight of the monster. The slave! The murder!

A fury unlike he’d ever experienced filled his body, darkness spilling from his mouth, his blue eyes turning red from blood, rage and hatred. He flew into the sky, screeching for revenge. His speed took the elder angel by surprise and his blade sunk into the monster’s leg.

The elder angel spun, wordlessly grabbing Stolas by the throat, his grip crushing, and yanked him upwards. Stolas stared into his expressionless face, saw the blade rise-

He pulled the dagger from his back and plunged it into the elder angel’s eye.

The elder angel reared back and Stolas dove forward, his hands now talons he plunged them over and over into the golden angel’s face, tearing it to shreds as they both fell to the corpse littered ground. He hacked at the other till there was nothing left and screamed to the heavens.

The other two elder angels descended.

One struck his wings, their sword so sharp it cut them off in one fell blow. The pain of their loss stilled his anger and his screeched in pain. The other took its blade in both hands. Stolas couldn’t move, the pain, the rage.

Caim.

The blade swung low.

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

Stolas started up in bed, panting and sweaty. The darkness around him was still. Stella slept on, her quiet breathing all he could hear over his own ragged inhales. His limbs shook as he threw back the little of the sheets still covering his naked form. Rising from the bed, he staggered into the bathroom and ran the tap, splashing freezing water onto his face. His clean face. His shaky leg held him up because there was no injury there now. He sunk onto the toilet and put his head in both hands quiet breathing his only sound anyone would hear.

It had taken months, but he’d learned how to cry in silence.

Sleep wouldn’t come anymore tonight.

He left the bathroom and wandered the halls of his palace, arriving at another bedroom he closed the door and reached for a phone. Stolas dialled the number he knew by heart and, thankfully, a groggy voice picked up the other end.

“Good evening my most gorgeous and well-endowed Blitzy.” He cooed, voice steady and low.

“What does time matter in the face of passion, my darling? Do come and entertain me, I’ll make it worth your while.” he chuckled.

He waited through a huffed reply.

“Ten minutes, I’ll make myself ready.” He promised, putting the phone down.

The mask fell as quickly as he’d pulled it up, his expression now pensive, almost fearful as Stolas walked to the balcony of the room. He looked up at the hell’s sky, the red moon.

Blood-red.

He turned away, retreating into the darkness.

A hand came to rest at his cheek, rubbing the spot gently.

“Thou shalt be well.” He whispered, sniffing as a final tear fell from the tip of his beak.

#Fic #Thou Shalt Be Well #{I am MEAN to Stolas}#{This was meant to be a small thing but noooooooooooo}#{Also posted on Ao3!}

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tnyj · 3 years

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Music’s soul is buried deep underground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~INTRO~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Music’s soul is buried deep underground. This is the truth.

I can tell, because I listened to mainstream music from 2008 - 2016.

I was introduced to the underground by a shitty Watchmojo video, which covered weird and obscure internet genres. On two of the segments, they covered the faster EDM genres, Speedcore for one of the two segments, and Splittercore and Extratone for the second segment (when the “Extratone” was really Suizidcore.) At the time, I thought that those genres were insanely cool.

In a modern sense, I still do, but watchmojo didn’t truly bring me underground.

That honour goes to a guy named DF.

Watchmojo merely opened the door for me into the underground.

At the time (circa 2016/2017) I listened to Diabarha, Aeswa and M1dy.

Then I discovered Hypertone thanks to a peculiar artist named ‘Darkblack XIII‘, in 2018, with ‘Hypertone Into Hyperverse (9.833e+16 BPM)’. This track truly opened my eyes to the underground, and the sheer speed of Hypertone.

For quite some time, I wanted to do it myself. To make fast beats, tones and large BPM values. That wasn’t fulfilled until 2019.

Until 2019, I was merely a consumer of Fast Noise Music.

In 2019, I started off with a site named Acid Machine 2. That my DAW for almost a full year. I started producing Speedcore, Splittercore, Suizidcore, (then at the time Extratone, because I fell for the misconception that Extratone = 1,000+ BPM.) Supertone and Hypertone.

I didn’t release my music until late December 2019, with my debut public release being titled ‘[1,024 BPM Extratone] Vortex Reaper - Can You Hear The Screaming?’ (keep in mind, the title was during the time where I fully believed that Extratone = 1,000+ BPM.) and my final release being on January 1st, 2020, with the first entry into what is now a massive series, spanning 73 instalments and counting: ‘[1,678 BPM Extratone] Vortex Reaper - Depression’.

With this release, I took a 2 month long hiatus from soundcloud. Returning on March 10th, 2020, with an insanely fast (at the time) 909.8 Quintrigintillion BPM Hypertone track.

I would then go on and reach the highest BPM Acid Machine 2 could possibly achieve, and that was e+309 BPM, in late March, 2020.

With the arrival of April, I got a new software, that continues to persist in my modern career: Audacity.

With audacity, I was able to go faster, experiment way more freely, and stylise myself more. Two months after getting audacity, I would rapidly ascend the BPMs with an entirely new and unheard of method for Hypertone: Breaking.

Breaking is a Cyclic Hypertone Technique I created in June 2020, out of boredom and a general curiosity caused by my experimental nature.

You sample a piece of nothing, copy it, paste it into the tone that has become an ultrasound (Ultratone), and then break it continuously, until you have a wall, then copy the wall, cut the rest of the unbroken tone, then paste the wall of the broken tone, then speed that up, and repeat it over and over and over, until you yourself are satisfied with it.

Because of Breaking, I went from e+309 to ee+121 in less than a month.

Later on in the year, I’d experiment with Breaking further, in July and August 2020, and discover Micro-Breaking, Nano-Breaking and Pico-Breaking.

It was in August 2020 I also reached ee+388 BPM, after 3 days.

Then, in December 2020, I discovered Femto-Breaking, Yocto-Breaking and Zepto-Breaking. All 3 discoveries are major because they broke the myth that Pico-Breaking was the smallest form possible.

In February 2021, I reached ee+500, ee+1000 and ee+1001 BPM, because I wanted to end my Hypertone career.

A month later, in March, I made the biggest and most substantial edit in my career, where I went fully in depth about my method. Explaining what it really is and how to do it. That was when I fully understood my creation.

Then in, my absence, I became way more experimental. More soundcloud accounts, more styles, more genres. More identities.

In late July/early August this year, I have been learning more and more about myself, via self-reflection. Thanks to an alias that I coined in order to express my constant apathy: Falling For the Same Delusions (FFTSD). Which is how I have realised my subconscious behaviours and patterns in life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now then, where does this fit in to the post’s title?

It fits in because it is important context.

I believe, as a former listener of proper mainstream music, that my subconscious sensed how soulless modern music is, and have slowly began to realise that everyone on the radio sounds the same, sings/raps the same fucking messages and shit, and that the artists are hypocrites that don’t care about the average person that might look up to them, and that my subconscious turned me to the underground as a result.

Mainstream music has lost its soul decades ago.

Pop music has no soul. Because everyone sounds the same.

The mainstream artists do not even try and experiment, because they enjoy the exact same, repetitive, dull, cookie-cutter format that has plagued the mainstream music industry for fucking decades now.

Whilst the underground, underground artists tend to experiment way more than mainstream artists. Because they want to push boundaries and definitions of genres. The more you experiment, the more passion you have for the things you do. The more experimentalism, the more soul.

Artists like me, DF, Cuntsplitterkor, %Kurry (Beholder Of Miracle), Hecatonchires, Juxcicl Antierr Hylna, Lunatic Vivi and Shazkei all experiment with the genres we make music for. We push boundaries and definitions, create new genres and techniques to see if they will catch on or not.

Simply put: The more mainstream, the less soul.

- TNYJ

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antihero-writings · 4 years

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Stolen Sunlight

Fandom: Tangled | Tangled the Series | Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure

Summary: Arianna never thought she'd find herself afraid of a fourteen-year-old boy, but the events of Secret of the Sundrop won't seem to leave her.

She needs to talk to Varian in prison. Not for his sake...but for her own.

Character focus: Arianna and Varian

Notes: This is a fic I started writing many many years ago, during the hiatus between seasons 1 and 2. I intended to post it way back then, as a long one-shot. I continued to occasionally work on it over the years, however, it's proven one of the hardest fics I've ever written to edit, (mostly due to the amount of internal monologue).

I finally decided that probably the only way to get it actually edited and posted is to break it up into multiple chapters, despite the fact that it's essentially only one scene, and I feel like that messes with the format. Hopefully it'll help me edit, and end up making it easier for people to read too XD I might post the full version of this, unbroken up, too after I finish it. But I finally got fed up with my editing process and decided this was the only way.

I'm aware that plenty of other people have written Varian and Arianna fics over the years, but at the time I started this there weren't that many yet, and I worked so hard on this, I still wanted to post it, even if others have done things like it. Plus, I'm not sure how many people have written it this heavily from Arianna's perspective.

I hope you all enjoy it, either way! Please don't hesitate to leave a comment to let me know, if so!!

Chapter 1: Fractured Memory

Sun splinters through the castle windows, designing reflections on the newly polished floor.

When she walks into the library, her mouth drops open; The entire room gleams. That Corona sunlight bounces between the tiles, tables, and shelves like a little boy full of energy, laughing as he leaps around the room.

It may be a royal library, but there’s usually still a layer of dust draped over everything, sealing up the gaps, and clogging up the stories. The servants try their best, but it’s hard to get into all the crevices between the shelves, the cracks between the pages.

The tiles glitter, the shelves look new, the books don’t cough up dust when she lifts them, even a few of their bindings are mended.

She stays a while to admire it before heading back for her room, and as she does, Arianna smiles, her gait almost dreamy—so like her daughter’s.

Who would take such care to polish her library? She appreciates the gesture more than words can express, but she would like to say ‘thank you’ at least.

A curious sight down the hall interrupts her wondering; a laundry cart, moving on its own.

A very full laundry cart, that is…Cassandra doesn’t usually fill them so much.

“May I…help you?” she walks up to the cart, tilting her head, strands of hair falling to the side.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! I got this!” the laundry cart replies.

The ventriloquist reveals himself: a boy steps out from behind it. She guesses he must be one of Rapunzel’s friends, since she doesn’t remember seeing him here before, and he doesn’t exactly look like a royal servant, (despite the fact that he’s performing one of their jobs).

He pushes back his hair—black, with a streak of turquoise at the front—and smooths out his apron. Upon seeing her, his eyes widen with shock.

“Oh!” he stumbles, attempting to bow too low, too quickly, “Your majesty! I-I am so sorry! I didn’t realize—!”

She laughs, holding out a hand to steady him.

“Don’t worry. Please. I’m Arianna.”

“Oh—O-Okay. That…seems to run in the family,” he mutters beneath his breath. “I’m Varian.” He leans confidently against the laundry cart…which starts moving, so he pulls it back with all his strength before it gets out of hand.

“Oh! Varian! Rapunzel told me about you!”

He freezes, his eyes trailing back to her, like people talking about him is usually a bad thing. “She…She has?”

“Of course!” she steps closer. “You’re the alchemist, right?”

He pauses, blinks, then his face breaks into the biggest grin. He clears his throat, rubbing fake dirt off his gloves, trying to hide his joy, as he looks back up at her. “Ten points to the lady in the crown.”

She smiles.

“Are you here for the completion today?”

He nods. “I think I’ve got a pre-tty good chance of snagging that first prize if I do say so myself,” he pulls on his apron straps, then pauses, realizing how arrogant that sounds. “Not to uh…toot my own horn or anything. But it doesn’t seem like there’s anything like my invention in the running, so I think once Master Doctor St. Croix sees it he’ll be impressed! At least I hope so.”

“Well, if your invention is anything like the ones Rapunzel has told me about you’ll have no trouble snagging that blue ribbon.”

“Oh stop,” he flicks his wrist to wave her off, but is beaming from ear to ear.

She notes that she may be encouraging him a little too much. The experiments Rapunzel has told her about aren’t exactly all blue-ribbon worthy. Or, perhaps they would be…if they all worked properly. At the same time, she isn’t sure labelling him as dangerous, and reckless is really fair. She and Willow had tried out their share of inventions, which often failed in a grand array of explosions. If they had worked properly, growing up wouldn’t have been as colorful. At least he was trying his best to help people with his inventions. Without the explosive failures, there was no room for fiery success either.

“Wait, shouldn’t you be there with the other contestants now?”

“Oh, yeah.” He says nonchalantly. “But I figured since I’m going second-to-last I’ve got a decent amount of time before I have to present. Cassi—Cassandra has agreed to be my assistant, so I’m helping her out with her lady-in-waiting duties first.”

“Don’t let her make you do all her work.” She says in a motherly way. Then gasps, “The library!”

He winces. “Did I do something wrong? I-I can fix it, don’t worry!”

“No, no!” she puts her hands on his shoulders, “So you were the one who cleaned it?”

“Yeees…?”

She pulls him into a hug. “Thank you so much.”—his eyes widen with shock—“I’ve never seen the place look so beautiful.” She releases him.

“Oh!” he rubs the back of his neck and the smile turns sheepish.

“That must have taken you hours!”

“It was no big deal. Nothing a little home-alchemy can’t fix.” He says like a salesman.

“How did you do it?”

“Just a compound of my own invention,” he digs in his pocket and holds up a little, blue orb between his thumb and forefinger. “Most people don’t understand the more practical uses for alchemy.” he marches forward, hands on his hips, in a hyperbolic show of pride, making his voice sound deep, “that’s why I make it a mission to show the world the value of alchemy! To boldly go where no man has gone before!” he laughs, his pose collapsing, “Or something like that.”

No wonder Rapunzel had such nice things to say about him. There weren’t a lot of people out there who were so…genuine. People who cleaned libraries because they needed cleaning, who created solutions for problems simply because they needed fixing.

“Maybe one day you can teach me.”

“Really?” He drops the ball and it explodes into a sudsy mess on the already polished floor. “I mean, not that I think a queen should be doing housework! But…really?”

“Please,” she waves him off. “I wasn’t always a queen, you know. If Willow and I had had tricks like this maybe our house would have always looked like a pigsty. Sometimes I think we started going off on adventures just to get away from the smell.” She leans in closer, whispering behind her hand, “One time, I set the kitchen on fire trying to bake a birthday cake for Frederic.”

He laughs, then pauses like he isn’t sure he’s allowed to. “I guess not every queen is scared to get her hands dirty, huh?”

“Uh huh,” she puts her hands on her hips, “You should have seen the look on his face.”

“Happy birthday huh?”

“Now make sure to always send someone to Monty’s for his cake…spare us all.”

He fails to keep himself from laughing again, then pauses.

“Well… I really should be getting back to these chores. This laundry isn’t going to clean itself, amIright?” he bobs his head and walks backwards to the cart. “But it was really nice talking to you, your Maj—I mean,” he points, “Arianna.”

“Let me help you! This cart is too heavy to carry on your own.” she rushes over to the other end—he’s so thin, she’s afraid he’ll snap in two if he does all the chores by himself.

“No no!” he comes dangerously close to slapping her hands away. “I mean,” he smiles nervously, pulling his fingers close to his chest, realizing his outburst to the Queen. “I wouldn’t want you to get your…er…royal hands dirty…Right?”

She smiles.

Well, if a little stubborn.

“As long as you’re sure.”

* The scene shifts, smearing like a painting left out in the rain. The reflection becomes more sinister; a glowing tower of amber, and encased within, a man reaching to the sky as if trying to catch rays of sunlight; as if light alone can break himself out of his prison of stained glass. The curtain to this godforsaken show is crumpled at the bottom. A giant machine stands in the middle of the room, made of metal, lightning, and cold, haunting music.

The room smells like sulfur, and rust, and a lot of other chemicals she can’t quite place. Things from the earth which don’t smell natural at all.

The same boy stands before her. The same, and yet…not the same at all. Along with the light from the windows, so too has disappeared the light from his eyes. The blue is something akin to moonlight; less the gleam of day, the reflection of the sunrise, full of hope, instead, more an eclipsed glow, shrouded by darkness.

She feels that rusted metal, the cold in his eyes, wrap like icy hands around her ankles.

She looks quizzically from her cuffed ankles to him. Doesn’t the warden usually cuff the prisoner’s hands?

He seems to understand her confusion, because he answers her unasked question;

“Please,” he scoffs. His eyes meet hers, and he smirks. The words, the smile, no longer contain compassion, they are manufactured with bite and scorn; “I wouldn’t want you to get your royal hands dirty.”

He tugs hard on the chain, showing that it’s connected to the lab’s floor, as if saying to a toddler You’re stuck here, understand? He walks back over to his desk—littered with bottles, liquid bubbling and seething like his emotions, an array of colors that tell nothing of what they contain.

If the color green is sleep, then what color is death?

She looks up at the golden tower in the center of the room. She doesn’t want to, but she can’t look away.

—Look away…like Frederic did, when people like Varian were crying out for his help against the rocks. Look away, like Rapunzel had to when the storm was coming, and Quirin was being imprisoned. Look away, like they all did after the storm passed.

She still couldn’t believe her husband would, could do something like that. That was the reason she was here, the reason the boy was hurt, the reason…the mistake, the poorly made choice.

No, she couldn’t think that way. Besides, she knew he had his reasons, that he wanted to make sure people didn’t panic, and he wanted to keep Rapunzel safe. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t fully understand the situation.

And she would never blame Rapunzel. Rapunzel had had to make one of the most difficult choices of her life that day, had had to learn too much about being queen, too soon: that it was about choices, and sometimes those choices would be leaving behind the one, for the sake of the many.

And the amber was the other reason, and that wasn’t Frederic’s fault...The amber Varian himself had mistakenly made.

Still, it would have been so easy. So easy to come back to him once the storm had ended. So easy...

So where did the fault lie, really?—

Was it amber? Was amber the color of death? Or just another kind of sleep?

The boy’s eyes shift, glaring at her with nothing more than bitterness.

Or was it blue? The color of the moon, a well-timed strike of lightning, an icy landscape. Was blue the color of death?

“What are you going to do?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “I’ll reveal my whole plan to you. Let me go into the tragic backstory of Varian,” he waves his hand grandly, “The poor boy, who lost his father to an experiment, a few rocks, a storm, and a princess’ broken promise.” He leans on the desk, resting his cheek in his hand in some mock-loving fashion, his eyes aimed on her like gunfire. “It’s simple; Rapunzel broke her promise.” He stands back up to his full height—which, admittedly, isn’t very high, but it’s more impressive from her place on the ground. “I tried asking nicely for her help, and I was denied.” He jabs a finger on the table to emphasize his point; the first sign of violence. “Now I’m going to ask” he smirks, tilting his head to the side, his eyes half-lidded in the dark, “not so nicely.”

He pauses a moment, glancing at the chemicals on his desk.

“I once said I’d teach you the ways of practical alchemy.” He reaches forward and takes up a flask. “Well, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I will show you something.”

He walked over to her, holding the flask full of something green and frothy that smells like dog breath.

Was it green? Was death’s color the same as sleep? The colors of leaves and grass and everything everyone thinks is a sign of life. ...It would be a cruel joke.

“This is a little solution I like to call…Varium.” There’s something hurt in his eyes when he says the word. “You see, when it reacts with the rocks,” he runs his fingers along the black spire jutting through the wall between them—one could be fooled into thinking in an intrigued way, but there was something harsh in his touch, resentful in his eyes, “it has this tendency to—” he held it over the stones, the liquid trickling slowly downwards in the flask, teasing her breath to catch itself and fall. He turns the bottle upright, and bites his lip, closing his eyes, willing himself not to turn around and look at what this has done before.

What he’s done.

“Well, you get the idea,” he mutters, returning the flask to his desk.

She doesn’t have to ask, and he doesn’t have to finish.

“You think if you threaten me Rapunzel will work with you?” there’s a bite to her words.

“Ten points to the lady in the crown.”

She pauses as he returns to work, her eyes trailing along the chain, the floor, jumping onto the windowsill—the rocks interrupting her gaze at every bend and break of the room—searching for any way out, any chance at rescue, anything her husband and daughter could use against him.

Was death black? The color everyone thinks it is. The black of these rocks, the low blue glowing beneath them, destroying his home, destroying their hearts, their chances at friendship and…It surely seemed like it.

“She won’t, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow as if to say oh, you think?

“Rapunzel.” She tries to urge her confidence, like a stubborn pet, to come out, but it shies away by the second. “She won’t help you.”

He smiles. “You make your hypotheses, I’ll make mine.”

“And what are yours?” her own eyes are half lidded.

He thinks over his words. “She can’t…help but help. She always had this sick compassion about her.” After a moment he adds softly, “…but only for her kingdom.”

Anger, injustice, bubble within her chest.

“You don’t have to be like this, you know.”

“And she didn’t have to break her promise,” he tilts his head, “ya know.”

She grits her teeth, clenches her fist. “I met you once. What happened to that boy who—”

He laughs a little, cutting her off. “Yeah, well, he learned a couple things about the real world.”

For a moment, just one brief moment, there is something there. Something in his eyes, a memory, a reaction, like the chemicals. Something real, something lost, something hurt, something…something not this. Incased within a prison of blue—

And then that moment ended.

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writerpeach · 5 years

Text

Frustration

Twice Sana

Categories: smut, male reader, university AU

3971 words

NSFW 18+

The formatting on this got fucked up for some reason because Tumblr sucks and I don’t feel like fixing it.

Minatozaki Sana was always up to no good. The fact that she mentioned studying in a serious manner made you suspicious, but you went along with it anyways. Sana wasn't one for studying, especially not at this early hour.

You went along with Sana’s early morning ruse, as you had nothing better to do after all. Classes didn’t start for another hour, there was plenty of time to kill. Sana’s plans always seem to involve some kind of public indecency involving nudity, intercourse, or some other act of depravity.

Sana’s excuse was she lived in dorms, while you lived off-campus. Dorm life made it hard to find privacy, so you took all the risks you could for just a few minutes of pleasure, even if it meant a high chance of getting caught. It honestly made your private sessions in the dorm a little vanilla.

Sana guided you down the lower floor of the University library, pretending to scan the shelves, looking for a book she insisted was real. You doubted its existence, but played along as she struggled to keep up her little charade, using no less than three different names to describe the same thing.

“Ah, here it is, ” Sana says, stopping at a row of shelves full of dust, ones that didn’t seem to be used that often.

“You actually found the book you were looking for?”

“It’s not a book...but I did find what I was looking for,” Sana says, as she pins her small, tight body against your own. Her lips collide with yours, and you taste the sweet flavor of her lip gloss as her tongue finds and dances with your own.

“Sana...you said you needed to study.”

“And I do. I just didn’t say what I was going to study.” Sana giggles, and unexpectedly you feel her hand slip inside your jeans, down into your underwear she begins to jerk off your cock.

“Fuck...Sana...we can’t do this here,” you say as you feel her slim fingers wrap around your dick.

“Oh? But I don’t see anybody. If you want me to stop I can.”

“No...I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Now relax.”

You looked around to check your surroundings as Sana began to undo your pants. It wasn’t even 9am yet and Sana already found herself on her knees.

“Relax,” Sana repeated, as she yanked your pants and boxers down to your ankles, freely able to continue slowly stroking your hard cock as it leaked over her fingers.

Those gorgeous eyes of hers look up at you, and without any hesitation on her part Sana gives your stiff cock long, deliberate flicks of her tongue from base to tip, lathering it up nicely with her saliva. She continues to pump your cock in her delicate hand, spitting on your shaft to wetten for her.

“I could get used to this kind of studying,” you say with a satisfied grin. Sana gives your cock a few more quick pumps, and wanting to extend your pleasure she wraps her pretty red lips around your cock and takes you into her warm welcoming mouth.

You let a deep breath out, closing your eyes for the first opening moments of pleasure. You no longer had any worries about being caught, all you cared about how good Sana was making you feel at this very moment.

As you open your eyes and gander down you love what you see, the familiar sight of Sana Sana on her knees, bobbing her head up and down, hungrily sucking your dick.

Sana’s soft lips glide up and down the length of your shaft, coating it in an endless supply of warm saliva as her pretty little mouth reaches the base of your cock. She stays there for what feels like minutes, her gaze unbroken as she stares up at you with every last inch of your cock down her throat.

“God, you’re so good at that.”

Sana’s uses her eyes to accept your compliment, giving your cock one loud, intense slurp to show her appreciation.

She lets your drool covered cock release from her warm mouth, making sure not to neglect your balls as her mouth licks and slurps each swollen testicle loudly, using her dainty hand to stroke your cock.

“Like that baby? You like me sucking your cock where anyone can see?”

“I love it. Feels good, feels so damn good.”

It was too much to handle already as Sana takes your cock back into her mouth, sucking you off sloppily, using only her mouth to please you as she gripped your thighs to brace herself.

You run your hand through her pretty blonde locks, awestruck by how such a gorgeous girl could be doing such a lewd act in public. The thought leaves your mind by a seductively deep slurp, and you feel your cock hit the big of Sana’s throat, her tongue wildly flicking the underside of your head. You couldn’t take much more.

“Sana...I’m gonna cum...”

Her eyes light up at your announcement, and you eagerly await next few moments, the pleasure unfolding as you were about to empty into her pretty mouth.

You once again close your eyes as your orgasm approaches, awaiting that sweet release to take over your body. Just as it is about to arrive it suddenly it stops in its tracks as Sana abruptly removes her lips from your cock entirely, your pleasure completely stripped and taken from you at the last second.

“Shit, I have to get to class,” Sana says with a devilish smirk on her face as she stands upright, leaving your hard cock now dripping.

“Sana, what the hell? Wait-”

She was gone in a flash, leaving you a confused, frustrated mess with your pants around your ankles.

None of her classes were until the afternoon, and you feel completely dumbfounded by the fact of what had just happened.

You let out an annoyed sigh and quickly pull your pants and boxers up, hoping nobody would see, while doing your best to think of any unsexual thoughts to help soften your erection.

Sana had played you, and you had never expected her to construct such a devious plan. You had to give her credit for turning the tables on you at the last second.

You stared up at the clock in front of you, annoyed as if it were mocking you. Your first class started in twenty minutes, and it would take that long just to get there. Not even time to finish yourself off in a bathroom. Three long classes to go. It was going to be a long day at the hands of one Minatozaki Sana.

On the way to your first class your phone vibrated.

>Sana: I hope you enjoyed my little gift. 😉

>You: I didn’t. I have class, Sana.

>Sana: Aw, don’t be mad. You’re cute when you’re so riled up. When you’re done you can come fuck my brains out, but for now you should really focus on your studies. 😛

You frustratedly shove your phone back in your pocket without any response, hoping it would be the only message she would send.

It wasn’t.

Sana knew your schedule. At the beginning of each class she sent just one pic, perfectly timing it just as your class would start.

The first was a picture of Sana's hand, her slick juices clearly visibly dripping off her fingers.

>Look how wet I am, baby. I’ve been touching myself for almost an hour because you aren’t here to satisfy me so I’m going to have to do it myself.

This was going to be a long fucking day indeed.

One class down, but you dreaded the other two. Right on schedule Sana’s next message arrives. The next image was her bent over, skirt pulled up high and her thong clad ass in plain view, a damp spot visibly soaking through.

> Bet you'd love to spank this tight ass of mine? Make my cheeks sting until they’re bright red for wouldn't you?

Sana’s teasing was relentless. You regretted opening your phone every time it buzzed.

The final image came purposely late. You thought she was done with her game, but half an hour into your last class it arrived. You tried to ignore it, but curiosity got to you.

It was Sana back in your apartment, completely naked in a pair of white high heels, legs spread wide and a vibrator in her pussy, an obvious puddle underneath her crotch. You regret giving her a spare key.

>Don't you wish your cock was in my pussy instead of this cold, lonely vibrator?

You didn't respond to any of her messages, but she knew you had seen them. You frustrations only increased with every message you opened, as did the pain in your crotch from lack of release. You had to power through.

You still had an hour to go and she was killing you.

In one final blow she sends one more message. Not a picture this time. An audio clip titled Sana needs you. It was over a minute long, and she knew you couldn't listen to it.

Listening in the bathroom certaintly was an option, but that would just prolong her torture. You weren't going to let her win.

The last two hours of your class felt like a week. Sana was in your head and you hated it. The only thing you could focus on was how good how lips felt as she blew you, and you wanted nothing else but to relive that incredible feeling. Mercifully your class ends, and you hightail it out of there.

You make it back to your apartment, cautiously opening the door, unsure what surprise would be in store for you. Sana had made a trail of her clothes leading to the bedroom, at the end was her naked body on the bed, fingers still inside herself, moaning determined to keep her teasing up to the very last second.

"Did you get my messages? I haven't heard anything from you all day. l thought maybe you had to go jerk off in the bathroom.

You give Sana a look, one of frustration and anger that says everything you needed to say. Sana giggles, as you look and see her naked body in the flesh, sheets soaked through from what seemed to be from hours of touching herself.

“You owe me new sheets.”

“Oh? If anything your sheets are better now. Now that they’re stained with me. Now what are you waiting for? Are you going to fuck me or do I have to keep doing it myself?. I’ve been here all day.”

You couldn’t take your clothes off any faster as Sana continued to touch herself, rubbing her hands all over her tight body. Your clothes fell in a heap on the ground, and you quickly climb the bed.

You run your middle finger between her slit to find your fingertip covered in Sana’s nectar.

“You’re drenched, Sana,” you tell her as you spread her legs wide for you, not even bothering to take her heels off.

“I am. I came so many times, I couldn’t take it anymore. You just kept me waiting so long, baby.” Sana says with the biggest smirk.

"Must have been nice," you respond, with obvious annoyance in your voice.

You aim your cock with her wet pink lips, pressing against her warm opening, staring deeply into Sana’s lust-glazed eyes, ready to completely take her.

“Fuck me.”

Her inviting words were all you needed. You swing your hips forward and push your hard cock into Sana, parting the wet, warm, and tight walls of her pussy.

Sana moans at the feel of first penetration, blonde hair goes flying as she tilts her head back in pleasure.

"Just like that baby, fill me with every inch of you."

Sana’s flesh squeezes your needy cock as you enter her deeper, and with both hands on her soft, luscious thighs you begin to fuck her.

You don’t give her a single second to adjust to you, she didn’t deserve that after all. You bury your hard cock deep inside her tight dripping pussy, and you begin to pound away at her.

“Oh, oh fuck! That feels so good, i’ve needed you, I’ve needed your cock inside me!”

It felt so damn good. Sana was always so tight, and so wet, especially now after touching herself for so long she was completely saturating your cock with her juices.

You give yourself a few moments to lose yourself in the pleasure that her body was giving you while you pump in and out of her with your cock in a perfect rhythm. Her overflowing juices help to lubricate your cock as you watch your shaft enters and exit between her thighs, the pleasure on her pretty face completely overtaking her.

“Deeper baby, let me feel all of you.”

You do everything you can to accommodate Sana’s request, lifting her legs up and resting your forearms on her thighs, let her feet hover in the air as you fill her tight little pussy as deep as your cock will possibly go until you complete bottom her out.

Sana’s moans increase, both in volume and intensity, letting you know you have succeeded.

“Yes, baby, just like that! You’re so fucking deep in me, don’t stop!”

Every thrust into Sana brought a new series of moans. You savored the way she felt, the way her pussy wrapped around your cock as you fucked her. You loved the sounds she made, and the way her eyes glazed ever in pleasure. Her pussy tightened even more around you, flooded you with even more of her juices, and you knew you were going to make her cum soon.

“You feel so big inside me, baby. You’re so deep, baby, I’m gonna cum! Oh fuck I’m gonna cum!”

You continue to fuck Sana as she tightens more around you, feeling her pussy pulsate around your dick to signal her upcoming climax. She was almost there, and as your own form of revenge you pull out of her and deny her orgasm at the last possible moment.

“Fuck! Baby!”

“Two can play this game,” you say with a smirk as your run your tip between her wet folds, giving her a few gentle slaps with cock as Sana whines.

“Ahh, please baby, put it back in me!”

You grab her hands and pull her up until she’s in a sitting position, kissing her lips and laughing to yourself at her being to one that was frustrated.

“We’re even now. Now come sit on this cock.”

Sana whines again as you lay down beside her, eyes focused on her scrumptious ass as she gets up and climbs onto your crotch. She carefully places her legs on either side of your thighs with her petite back facing you, reaching behind her to grab your cock, glistening with her own juices and lines it up with her pussy.

Sana doesn’t want to spend another second empty and slowly lowers herself onto your cock. You can’t help but stare as her pink splayed lips accept your cock, and in one quick motion Sana slams her ass against your crotch and impales her pussy with the entirety of your cock.

Sana gasps at the intense sensation of the new position, able to take you that much deeper inside her. She settles into making herself comfortable and begins grinding on your dick, hips gyrating back and forth. Sana uses your thighs to brace herself as she starts her own rhythm, slamming her body against your own, riding your cock without a care in the world.

“Baby...you feel so good inside me…”

You’re content to enjoy the show for the first few minutes, lying motionless as you watch your cock disappear in between Sana’s cheeks as she fucks herself. With every enter and exit into her tight opening her pink lips grip your cock tightly, keeping you inside her as her perfectly sculpted ass bounces with every slam against your crotch.

Sana moans lustfully every time she impales herself on you, and you grab a handful of her plump asscheek, squeezing it firmly.

“Feel good baby? Like that cock inside? You like riding me?” you ask Sana as you give her ass a quick loud slap.

She only answers with a moan in response and leans her body back to continue riding you, granting easier access to all of her. You take advantage of this and reach around her chest, grabbing her round perky breasts and squeezing them both, feeling their warmth as you caress them.

Sana moans louder as you continue to massage and caress her tits, now playing with and pinching her hard sensitive nipples, working the nubs in between your fingers.

You feel Sana get even tighter, even wetter as one hand makes it way down her firm toned stomach in between her thighs, beginning to rub her swollen clit.

“Fuck, baby! I’m gonna cum...fuck...I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop...baby...please…”

“I would never. Cum for me, Sana. Cum all over my cock.”

Sana does as instructed. Her orgasm is loud and messy with her thighs shaking and quivering as she climaxes hard, squeezing your dick tight and pulsating intensely as a flood of her sweet juices stain your crotch. You do your best to help her ride it out, gently caressing her lower back her while aftershocks run their course over her body.

Her body gradually stops shaking, and you kiss her back and neck while she recovers, tasting the light taste from her sweat as you pepper her upper torso in kisses.

When you feel she was ready to continue you push her body forward. Sana gets the hint, moving her head down on the bed and lifting her beautiful ass up in the air, your cock still embedded in her pussy, not once leaving her body.

Sana still in her post-orgasm daze looks back at you, biting her lip as she gently whispers.

“Take me as rough as you want, baby. Use me. Fuck me. Cum in me.”

There would be time for that, but first you take the time to admire Sana’s bent over body. Every last deadly curve of her slim petite frame sculpted perfectly, a body that could simply be described as a gift from the heavens, one that you were about to ruin in the next few moments of passion.

“Fuck my brains out, baby. Like I said you could.”

You grab Sana’s full hips as you begin to thrust your cock inside her again, your pace deliberately slow, savoring every moment her body swallows you inside, taking the time to feel every bit of warmth and wetness of her silky folds as you fuck Sana from behind.

The slow pace was unbearable for both of you, and you quickly change it, moving your hands to the warm naked flesh of her ass cheeks and you begin to drill her tight pussy. Every thrust into Sana increases until you are roughly fucking her as hard and deep as your body is able to, burying your cock until her all the way to the hilt.

“Oh fuck, baby! Fuck me just like that! Pound my tight little pussy!”

Sana gets just what she wants. With a merciless pace you rock her body wildly, both bodies crashing together as you smack against her tight ass with every thrust. The sounds of warm flesh colliding as loud as can be, Sana’s moans now almost a scream as you are fucking her with every ounce of energy that you have left.

You use Sana to fuck your frustrations of the day out, to take your pleasure from and nothing else. Her hands flat in front of her, now grip the sheets tightly as you roughly slammed your cock in and out of her willing body, her lustful moans as loud and deep as they could go, letting you know just how good she was feeling.

You up the ante in your own way and grab a handful of her pretty blonde hair, forming a rough ponytail and pulling it back towards you as you drive your cock roughly in and out of Sana, not giving her a second to rest as you intend to take every bit of pleasure from you needed.

You were close, and you were going to finish inside Sana. Not in her pussy, not this time. You needed to finish in her pretty mouth, the way she took away from you earlier.

“Suck my dick, Sana. And finish the job this time,” you tell her as you withdraw your glistening cock out of her pussy and lay back down on the pillows.”

“Of course, baby,” Sana says with a smile on her lips, laying on her stomach right in front of your crotch. She takes you back into her warm mouth, tasting her own juices on your cock.

You already feel the tingles of an orgasm already, and within seconds of Sana’s magical blowjob she pushes you right over the edge.

“Shit, I’m cumming.”

Sana’s beautiful round eyes acknowledge you, this time confirming that there would be no denial. She would take you all the way to the point of no return and drive you past it.

You hold the back of her head down all the way against the base of your cock as you explode in Sana’s mouth, filling her throat with what felt like an endless amount of thick cum that was too much for her to handle as your load overflows and drips out of the corners of her pretty lips.

Sana does her best to contain your load, helping finish out your intense orgasm, sucking you completely dry until you’ve emptied every last drop into her mouth.

You watch as Sana swallows the huge load she has down her throat in two big gulps, giving your cock a bath with her tongue to clean up the remnants of your split semen before taking that down into her body as well.

“Guess I’m to blame for such a huge load, huh?” Sana says with a giggle as she strokes your sensitive cock, sucking your tip a few times just to watch you squirm, letting go with a loud, sexy pop as she fully finishes what she started.

You try to catch your breath as Sana licks her lips clean, ensuring not a drop of you goes wasted.

“Worth the wait, huh, baby?”

“Uh huh,” you answer faintly as the very last of your energy depletes, and Sana’s naked body crashes on yours as you both cuddle and fall asleep.

#twice smut #sana smut #kpop smut #twice #sana #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #twice fanfiction #twice fanfic #male reader

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cincinnatusvirtue · 4 years

Text

On this day: The Sack of Constantinople 1204, The Fourth Crusade damages Christendom and shapes history...

The Christian Crusades of the Middle Ages have a mixed legacy in the the long lens of history. In the modern age, they are reviled by some and still upheld as noble, even holy ventures by others. Depending on the particular Crusade the participants, their motivations and their outcome had varying degrees of impact long term. Perhaps none however had the long term ramifications, though unforeseen at the time of the Fourth Crusade of 1204.

The Fourth Crusade stands out because it saw not only the one time the Crusades were not directed at their original target of removing Muslim powers from the Holy Land in the Levant but instead changed their trajectory to attack a fellow Christian power, the Byzantine Empire or Eastern Roman Empire as it was known as or just Roman Empire. The Byzantine Empire was the successor to Rome, since it was the continuation of the ancient Roman Empire, albeit with its capital in Constantinople, straddling Europe and Asia between the Balkans and Anatolia between the Black and Mediterranean Seas. Overtime it had shifted its language and cultural focus from a Latin one to a Greek speaking one and a religious flavor of Christianity different from the Catholic Church of Western Europe, known as the Greek or Eastern Orthodox Church.

The Fourth Crusade came out a complex mix of ever present Byzantine internal politics and civil war, Western Crusader and Papal idealism and economic opportunism. As well as a mix of cultural and religious differences between the Western and Eastern branches of Christianity. To get a sense of how we get to the events of 1204 we need to look further back to an overview of the Byzantine Empire and the various threats they faced.

The Byzantine Empire was essentially an outgrowth of civil division within the ancient Roman Empire and the subsequent split lead to the founding a new capital in the east, by Roman Emperor Constantine, the first Roman Emperor to become nominally Christian. The city was named Constantinople though this was not initially Constantine’s planned name. It was located on the shores of the Bosporus, a channel that runs between the European continent and Asian Continent in modern day Turkey, where the Balkans and Anatolia meet. A literal crossroads of East meets West. It was located near the site of a former ancient Greek colony called Byzantium, hence the name later attached to describe the Eastern Roman Empire. The Byzantine Empire was name given centuries after its fall, it was only ever referred to by its inhabitants as the Roman Empire, because even though it evolved from Latin speaking Romans to Greek speakers, the political institutions remained very much influenced by the ancient Roman Empire and unlike the Western Roman Empire, it withstood the invasions of the various Germanic and other barbarian tribes in the 5th century and continued unbroken into the Middle Ages. The terms Byzantine Empire and Eastern Roman Empire, Roman Empire are used interchangeably hereafter in this post to mean the same polity.

The Byzantine Empire struggled as a bulwark against various barbarian tribes of differing origins over the centuries and increasingly it turned to its Christian religion as an inseparable component of its culture, which also took on a Greek flavor. The Greek language was the majority of the populace in this part of the world but the political and military elites spoke Latin until the 7th century, after which they too spoke Greek which developed from Koine Greek into Medieval Greek. Simultaneously there were serious differences between the religious authorities and the Emperors. While the Byzantine Empire did reclaim parts of Italy and Western Europe and North Africa, the differences between the Pope in Rome and religious authorities in Constantinople along with the Emperor himself was causing a rift between the East and Western Churches. As a result with these schisms lead to the development of the Eastern Orthodox Church separate from the Catholic or Roman Catholic Church. A particular break came when King of the Franks Charlemagne was crowned Holy Roman Emperor in the 9th century, giving rise to a new “claimant” to the Roman throne among the German speaking peoples of Central Europe who had also converted to Christianity. The Holy Roman Empire was never unified completely in the format of the Byzantine Empire, it was actually a collection of various kingdoms, fiefdoms and principalities among Central Europe, namely in the German, Italian, French speaking regions as well as the Low Countries. However, it too proclaimed itself the successor to the ancient Roman Empire, albeit its formation was really a form of political solidarity with the Roman Pope now at odds with the Roman Emperor in Constantinople, this lead to a break in relations between Rome and Constantinople that never really recovered completely.

In the 7th century a new threat, that of the Arabs and religion of Islam appeared on the Roman Empire’s southern borders in the Levant and North Africa. The Arabs surprisingly and quickly overran much of the Eastern Roman Empire. Taking the Levant including Syria and spreading to North Africa and eventually to Sicily, parts of Southern Italy and even the Iberian Peninsula then part of the Germanic Kingdom of the Visigoths in the coming generations. The Eastern Roman Empire was eventually able to stabilize parts of its eastern borders in Anatolia but had to withstand Arab invasions and even attempted sieges of Constantinople itself, but the city with its famously thick and high walls proved too much for the Arabs to defeat them. Additionally, they were helped by their sometimes rival the First Bulgarian Empire, a synthesis of Slavic tribes who migrated south in the 6th century from Eastern Europe along with the nomadic Turkic Bulgars who ruled over the area known as Bulgaria as the elite. Ultimately, the Islamic Caliphate which spread from Spain to the Middle East was divided by internal rivalries and new dynasties which lead to a fracturing within the Islamic world. This development provided some relief to the Byzantines as time went by, the Byzantines were able to regain parts of their strength in territories lost to the Arabs, at least partially.

The Byzantine Empire also dealt with the issue of various peoples from the north including the aforementioned Bulgarian Empire which originated with the Slavs intermingling with Byzantine citizens and later included the nomadic Turkic Bulgars. However, the Slavs south of the Danube River were the most populous group in this region and eventually the Bulgars were absorbed into their people which now called themselves Bulgarians. The Bulgarians however did adopt Christianity, namely the Orthodox branch of Christianity and spread this among their fellow South Slavs, this worked to occasionally smooth relations with the Byzantine Greeks but the rivalry remained both powers for control of the Balkans. Additionally, various other Turkic tribes and nomadic peoples over the years such as the Avars, Pechenegs, Cumans and Magyars (Hungarians) rode into the areas bordering the Byzantine Empire and variously they battled the Byzantines as well as each other. This was Constantinople’s preference, a paid for form of diplomacy, to play off the various barbarian peoples as soon as a new one showed up, the Byzantine Empire was immensely wealthy due to large amounts of gold, valuable trade routes and territories to tax. By paying off the latest arrivals, they could replace an older threat and work as vassals or allies of the Byzantine Empire at varying times.

Another, people the Byzantines had to deal with was the Kievan Rus, a combination of East Slavic tribes that due to internal strife supposedly invited a group of Vikings, known as Varangians to the Greeks to rule over them. The Vikings founded Kiev, the modern capital of Ukraine and ruled over as a political elite over these Eastern Slavs, in time they were absorbed into the Slavic majority like the Bulgars and their Slavic subjects. They formed a medieval state that served as the later basis for the modern states of Russia, Ukraine and Belarus and their Slavic peoples. The Kievan Rus, raided Byzantine lands including Constantinople but were repelled by the city’s famously impregnable walls and the secret weapon of the Byzantines, a Medieval take on the flamethrower known as Greek fire which destroyed the Rus’s navy. Greek fire’s exact method of deployment is a mystery but suffice to say it was a fearsome weapon that effectively repelled many an enemy. In time, the Rus too converted to Orthodox Christianity, becoming a sometimes ally of the Byzantines. They further assisted the Byzantines by sending Scandinavian mercenaries from Sweden, Denmark and Norway to Kiev and onto Constantinople to serve in the Byzantine army, first as mercenary infantry and later into a specialized elite personal guard of the Byzantine Emperors, the Varangian Guard which were quite fearsome in their reputation. This tradition would carry on for the remainder of the Byzantine Empire’s existence. Though the composition of the Varangian guard switched from Scandinavian Rus to Anglo-Saxons from England and others following the Norman Invasion of England.

The Normans, descendants of Viking raiders who pillaged France and were given their own duchy, Normandy, also spread to different parts of Europe. The Normans named after their Viking ancestors called the Norsemen or Northmen which became Norman. Developed their own distinct subculture of Viking influenced warfare, French dialect along with unique architecture and customs. The Normans most famously attacked and conquered England under William, Duke of Normandy or William the Conqueror. Ending Anglo-Saxon rule of England in 1066, the Normans formed a new political elite in the British Isles in union with Normandy. They also conquered Southern Italy, including Sicily, ending Arab/Islamic rule there and they attacked the Balkan possessions of the Byzantine Empire in raids. To varying degrees both sides were successful.

In the 11th century, the Byzantines can reconquered Bulgaria, ending a threat their but to the east were facing a new threat, the nomadic Turks coming from the steppes of Central Asia. The Turks had converted to Islam along with the Persians and other Iranian peoples of Central Asia and with this brought a renewed threat of Islam to the Roman Empire’s borders. In 1071, the Byzantine suffered a defeat at the Battle of Manzikert from the Seljuq Turks who established the Great Seljuq Empire, the first major nomadic Islamic Turkic Empire to threaten the Byzantines. They quickly settled into the Anatolian heartland of Byzantine lands replacing the previously Greek majority here. During the reign of Byzantine Emperor Alexios I Kommenos (1088-1118), the First Crusades were called by the Alexios working with then Pope Urban II in 1095. Promoting a reconciliation of sorts between East and West Christendom. The goal was to restore Anatolia and the Levant to the Byzantine Empire from the various Muslim rulers since the Seljuqs and their fellow Muslims in the Levant were divided. Eventually a mix of Italo-Norman, French and other Western European armies “took up the Cross” and became the Crusaders hell bent on Christian restoration of the Holy Land. The deal was they were to get help drive Muslims from these lands and restore Byzantine rule to them in exchange for spiritual clean slates from the Pope himself to satisfy their religious fervor and get monetary and military support from a reformed Byzantine army and navy that prior to Alexios had been neglected and underfunded due to corruption, civil war and decreased tax bases. The Crusaders had to swear and oath of nominal fealty to Alexios, even the Normans he previously fought. The First Crusade turned out to be successful though its intention of restoring lands to Byzantium only went so far. In Anatolia, the Crusaders with their heavy armor and weaponry decimated the light cavalry of the Turks and the Byzantines were able to partially restore control over Anatolia. In the Levant however, the Crusaders receiving limited support from the Byzantines decided to take matters into their own hands and create Crusader states in parts of modern Turkey, Syria, Lebanon, Israel and Jordan for themselves, even retaking Jerusalem. Forming the Counties of Tripoli and Edessa, the Princapality of Antioch and the Kingdom of Jerusalem, these states were nominally to become vassals of the Byzantine Empire since their Christian populace was majority Greek but they would be de-facto independent at varying times over the course of their existence.

As the 11th century gave way to the 12th century other Crusades were undertaken, the Second Crusade was more widespread trying to curtail Muslim reconquest of Anatolia and the Levant which resulted in a Crusader failure in Anatolia but a stalemate in the Levant preserving the Crusader states there. Meanwhile, Christians successfully retook the Muslim controlled parts of Portugal and Spain, known as Al-Andalus and the Crusaders in Northern Europe started to locally convert some Western Slavs who had long resisted conversion to Christianity to moderate levels of success. By the end of the 12th century, the Third Crusade was launched to revive the now reconquered parts of the Levant including Jerusalem that fell into Muslim hands of the Ayubid Sultanate, founded by an ethnic Kurd, named Saladin who became Sultan of Egypt and Syria and fought against Richard the Lionheart, King of England. The Crusaders regained partial control of the coastal regions of the Levant but not the interior and a truce was made between Richard and Saladin out of mutual respect and exhaustion.

The dawn of the 13th century saw Pope Innocent III, want to build on the successes of the Third Crusade and launch a Fourth Crusade to complete retaking Jerusalem once more. During the time of the Third Crusade though, tensions with the Byzantine Empire and Western Europeans resumed. Frederick I Barbarossa, Holy Roman Emperor and his army tried to get permission from the Byzantines to cross over into Anatolia but which was granted but saw an early end after Frederick drowned fording a river. The Germans were accused of conspiring with the resurgent Second Bulgarian Empire and Serbia both of which had broken away and reclaimed their independence from the Byzantines once more after a century and half of reconquest. Furthermore, the English took Cyprus from the Muslims but did not return to the Byzantines, instead handing it over to the Knights Templar, one of several Latin (Catholic) Christian military orders founded during the Crusades.

The Byzantines had for centuries been the most dominate city in Christendom in Constantinople, it was the largest and most cosmopolitan city in Europe reaching populations between 500,000-1,000,000 at its peak. It had long retained ancient Rome’s political machinations, as well as cultural innovations, public baths, forums, aqueducts, a racing arena for chariots and other classical Roman monuments and structures. It also housed ornate Christian churches such as the Hagia Sophia and with the Orthodox’s Church’s rich artwork of elaborate mosaics and golden icons it was awe-inspiring to anyone ,Christian or pagan who entered it’s triple set of walls for its sheer grandeur alone. A sense of bringing “Heaven on Earth” was something the Byzantines sought to do for any foreign dignitary.

The Byzantine capital was also the center of commerce in the Mediterranean, where east meets west. Its former vassal, the Italian city-state, the Republic of Venice had over the centuries become independent and became a commercial and naval power on its own and it had sought to become the Byzantine Empire’s biggest benefactor for trade. In time it sought to replace the Byzantine Empire as the commercial power of the region. The Venetians at first were granted favorable trade conditions which actually disadvantaged and further weakened the Byzantine economy and customs-tax revenues, this was the result of short-term convenience the Byzantine rulers often needed to lighten the burden on their treasury, making short term political gains at the expense of long term financial ruin. While Alexios I and his immediate descendants increased Byzantine rule and prestige over the course of the 12th century, they gradually fell back into civil war, corruption and sometimes downright oppressive violence to maintain order. Eventually they were replaced in a coup by the interrelated Angelos dynasty and reigned from 1185 until the events of 1204. Even within the dynasty there was infighting. Isaac II Angelos ruled for years, incompetently until replaced by his brother Alexios III Angelos who had Isaac, ritually blinded and sent into retirement was typical of Byzantine custom. His own reign was marred by financial mismanagement and corruption, outsourcing the navy to Venetian mercenaries and corrupt bureaucrats selling military and religious equipment to for personal gain. Once again the Byzantine Empire found itself virtually bankrupt and unable to pay its armies.

Alexios III was now being plotted against by his nephew Alexios, son of Isaac II. It was his nephew who escaped imprisonment and made his way to the Holy Roman Empire and into the court of his brother in law, the King of Germany Philip of Swabia who was married to Alexios’ sister Irene Angelina. Alexios would play a pivotal role in the events of 1204. Quite separate from his own plans, the Fourth Crusade was already being planned by Pope Innocent III with the typical goal of reclaiming Jerusalem in mind at the same time. The Venetian Republic agreed to provide the naval fleet and some ground support in exchange for a handsome sum from the mostly French and German Crusaders who were to partake in the voyage. The Crusaders were expected to pay the Venetians a large sum for their transport. In part, because the Venetians halted all other naval and commercial development for a year to build a sea worthy fleet with the expectation of being paid upon the Crusaders arrival in Venice which was expensive to a maritime power reliant on seafaring commerce. The Venetian head of state, known as the Doge was at this time a man nearly 100 years old and partially blinded by the Byzantines years before, by the name of Enrico Dandolo. Dandolo and the Venetians were surprised when the French and Germans showed up with limited funds. The Venetians had seemingly built a fleet a great personal expense and now could not expect a reimbursement. As a result the Venetians held the Crusaders hostage and demanded a negotiated payment from the Crusaders since it looked like the Crusade would no longer happen now. They received a partial payment, taking a collection from all the Crusaders but it was not enough to recoup their losses and so the stand off continued. At this point Dandolo proposed a new idea, the Venetians would partake in spoils of the Crusade, not part of the original agreement and the debt could be paid off. Additionally, Dandolo decided the Crusaders could work off their debt in part by helping Venice reclaim the Croatian city of Zara on the Adriatic Sea. This area nominally belonged to the Venetians but a group of Croatian pirates had taken over this port and disrupted Venetian commerce, if the city could be retaken with Crusader help, the Venetians would consider the debt partially restored. This had the added benefit of deescalating tensions with the Crusaders residing in Venice out of fear that their hostage ordeal may lead to violence there and at least in Croatia they could be placed elsewhere.

The planned attack on Zara reached the Pope who threatened excommunication of any Crusader French, German or Venetian or other Italian who attacked Zara since it was a fellow Christian city and already the Fourth Crusade’s purposes were being perverted. A papal sanctioned legate and entourage was sent to oversee the religious aspects of the Crusade and report back to the Pope. The Pope’s threats were intentionally withheld from the bulk of the Crusaders by the Venetians and some of the Crusader leaders who saw profiteering opportunities here. Though some Crusaders, devout in their religious convictions and sworn oaths refused to partake in an attack against fellow Christians the bulk of the army joined the Venetians in November of 1202, despite the Croats displaying the Cross as fellow Catholics, the city was taken after a few weeks. Immediately the Venetians and the Crusaders fought into a violent brawl leaving 100 dead as they disputed the spoils of the conquered city. The Pope receiving the news of the attack, excommunicated the entire army, though news of the excommunication was likewise withheld from the rank and file. However, the Pope would later grant an absolution to the army.

While wintering in the warmth of Croat coast, Alexios Angelos, who had escaped his uncle and reigning Byzantine Emperor, Alexios III to Germany made his way to Zara. He had been plotting to overthrow his uncle and take control of Byzantium for himself but in his exile abroad he needed a vehicle for his plans. The cousin of his brother in law, the German King happened to be the nominal leader of the Fourth Crusade, an Italian noble and soldier of German descent by the name and title of Boniface of Montferrat. Though by the Siege of Zara Boniface was merely a figurehead, the Venetian Doge Enrico Dandolo had more or less usurped the Crusade for his and Venice’s purposes. Nevertheless, Alexios hearing about the Crusader army, arrived at their winter camp in Zara and proposed a new alternative to their venture, instead of going to the Holy Land as planned why not detour to Constantinople and force his uncle give up the throne, in exchange Alexios would be proclaimed the new Emperor and pay off the Crusaders handsomely including the Venetians with promises to more than recoup the Venetians present losses. The timing and machinations of the various Crusaders, the Venetian Doge and the would be Byzantine pretender to the throne could not have been more perfect. Like the planned attack on Zara, Constantinople was a controversial target as a fellow Christian city, albeit one the Catholic or Latin Crusaders as they were known as, saw as still somewhat for their adherence to the Orthodox denomination which was alien and strange to the Catholics. Both denominations had sense of superiority to the other. The Doge was eager to gain riches from Constantinople to recoup his country’s losses and also to avenge an earlier massacre of Venetians and other of Italians in the Venetian Quarter of Constantinople years before by the Greek populace. Some Crusaders who were present at Zara but refused to partake in the attack, including the English noble Simon de Montfort refused to partake in the attack on Constantinople and left for the Kingdom on Hungary and eventually lead a small but unsuccessful contingent to the Holy Land, attempting to complete the original mission of the Crusade as intended.

Alexios additionally promised not only to pay off the Crusaders debts to the Venetians for the Crusade’s assistance in his coup but to resupply and reinforce the Crusade onto the Holy Land. Additionally, he promised to bring the Greek Orthodox Church (nominally subservient to the Emperor) under Papal authority. Unbeknownst to Alexios while his promises were too tempting to the Crusaders and Venetians, the practical reality of implementing them were beyond his reach. Doge Dandolo however, had spent time in Constantinople as a diplomat for Venice years before and was well aware of the complex and fluid politics of Byzantium and likely doubted the veracity of Alexios’s promises. Nevertheless by early 1203 the Crusader and Venetian flotilla were en-route to Constantinople. When Pope Innocent caught wind of this plot he warned against further attacks against Christian cities, at least nominally, but did not outright condemn this specific venture for reasons not exactly known, though probably for political reasons.

The Crusader-Venetian army arrived on the outskirts of Constantinople in June of 1203, having left Croatia in April. The city had a population of half a million and a permanent garrison of 15,000 regular troops, including 5,000 of the Varangian Guard. The sudden appearance of a fellow Christian army caught the city off guard and indeed the Byzantines could not call for reinforcements from other parts of the Empire in a timely manner. They sent an emissary to the Emperor Alexios III, stating the goals were to depose him peacefully if possible. Indeed that was the primary goal of the venture, depose Alexios III and replace him with his nephew and then be paid off rather handsomely before continuing onto the Holy Land as envisioned. The first fight between Byzantine troops and the Crusaders was an easy Crusader victory as heavily armored Frankish knights from France easy outperformed their Byzantine counterparts. Nevertheless, taking the city itself was going to be a daunting task and not something they initially thought who be necessary, though they came prepared just in case.

In July, the Crusaders began the siege proper by trying to cross the Bosporus and take the suburb Galata, the Crusaders would break into the sub channel of the Bosporus, known as the Golden Horn, which would allow the Venetian navy to park their fleet there and they could assault the sea walls of the city proper. Indeed, the Crusaders launched an amphibious landing onto Galata and took routed the Byzantine defenders, though a mercenary force of English, Danish and Italian troops held the strategic Tower of Galata. Eventually the tower fell and many attacks and bloody counterattacks. The Golden Horde itself was defending by a large chain but by taking Galata, the chain was cut and the Venetian fleet was allowed entry into the Golden Horn. At this point, Alexios Angelos was indeed paraded outside the city walls as if he were to be the Emperor, but to his and the Crusaders’ surprise they were jeered by the Greeks. Constantinople had been accustomed to coups and changing reigns in their emperors over the years and they cared little about the exiled prince or his blinded and retired father, they felt Alexios III was adequate as a ruler, he may not have been especially popular but he wasn’t so disliked that the city would depose him for his nephew, not at foreign coercion. This in turn soured the mood of the Crusaders and built resentment, thinking they would be hailed as liberators.

Now the assault on the city was absolutely necessary to achieve their goals, even if it was limited in scope. The Crusaders and Venetians made several attempts but were repulsed by the Byzantine troops. Though in July 11th, the Venetians captured some portions of the sea walls and towers before the Varangian Guard dispersed them, but the Venetians set off a fire to cover their retreat, this fire damaged a good portion of the city and left 20,000 people homeless. Finally, Alexios III personally lead a force to confront the Crusaders but before a fight could commence, he lost heart and retreated even though he outnumbered the Crusaders at that juncture. The fire and the disgraceful retreat prior to a right disheartened the city, Alexios III abandoned the city in disgrace, fearful of the implications of this, the city’s nobility actually brought back his deposed brother, the blinded former emperor, Isaac II out of retirement and declared him the Emperor once more in the hopes this would dissuade further conflict and allow them to save face.

The Crusaders had achieved the goal of deposing Alexios III, though they had not placed his nephew on the throne which meant no guarantee of pay. To remedy this, the Crusaders demanded that Alexios be made co-emperor alongside his restored father, a tradition that had occurred on occasion throughout Roman history. Alexios Angelos was now Alexios IV Angelos and he realized upon taking the throne that the imperial treasury was in fact far more depleted than he thought, meaning he could fulfill his promises to Crusaders so easily. His uncle had made off with precious jewels, further depleting the treasury. The result was a demand to the citizenry and the Church to provide their religious icons and melt them down to make silver and gold coins with which to pay his mercenary army, it was only a partial payment. It was viewed as a sign of desperation and weakness, making the populace have disdain for their new emperor and his army of mercenaries. Alexios IV then asked the Crusaders to renew their contract for another six months until April 1204 to gather more time to collect their payment and to help him secure his rule against his uncle who was regrouping elsewhere. Taking 6,000 Crusaders he marched to fight his uncle Alexios III near Adrianople, a nearby large city. The remaining army of Crusaders and Venetians stayed in outskirts of the city sort of holding the city in an hostage situation. During this time a riot broke out killing some Venetian merchants in the Venetian quarter once more. The Venetian marines and sailors retaliated by setting another fire to the city, greater than the first leaving 100,000 citizens homeless.

Upon Alexios IV’s return from facing his uncle the tensions with his Crusader army lead a decline in relations between him, his subjects and the Crusaders. His own father resented his co-ruling and began to denounce him. He declared his refusal to help the Crusaders after December 1203 and lead at least an attempt to force the Crusaders away which failed. The Crusaders were incensed at having been shortchanged in their promises. Meanwhile, the Byzantine senate tried to declare a noble the new emperor in early 1204, following Isaac II’s death from natural causes. Their appointee declined and instead another Byzantine nobleman who apposed the Crusaders, named Alexios Doukas, from a previously imperial and noble family was declared emperor after he launched a coup in which he paid the Varangian Guard to arrest Alexios IV, Alexios IV was strangled to death in prison by the Varangians. Doukas was now declared Alexios V and he was committed to ridding himself of the Crusaders like he had just deposed his predecessor.

In fact, Alexios V personally lead several attempts to attack the Crusader encampment and forays to find food and supplies outside the city, though many Byzantine troops were killed and Alexios V nearly lost his life. His also raised funds to help the common citizenry endearing him to the populace. Nevertheless, that February he attempted to negotiate with Doge Enrico Dandolo. The terms were deemed to harsh and to no avail. It was around this time, Alexios IV was in fact killed, since his restoration to the throne was a demand of theirs. News of his death angered the Crusader encampment further, though relations had been strained they still saw him as the one negotiator within Byzantium who could pay them off. In March, all Catholic Westerners who resided in the city were expelled. Though the Muslim populace was allowed to reside and had in fact helped the Greek Orthodox citizens and troops in their fights. At this point, the Crusaders and Venetians planned to take matters into their own hands, they would take the city by force and the Byzantine Empire with it, dividing the spoils among themselves.

April 1204 saw the final siege begin which Alexios V resisted until April 12th when the Crusaders managed to penetrate the city walls, altogether, a first in the nearly 900 years of the city. Alexios V fled by boat. Another emperor was declared briefly in the form of Constantine Laskaris but when the Varangian Guard refused to fight further, the siege was over. The Byzantine capital fell for the first time, for the next three days a plundering phase took place, riches religious icons were stolen and melted down for coin, the Hagia Sophia, the most sacred cathedral was desecrated by the Crusader army, the Crusaders murdered and robbed every day citizens and raped Greek women including nuns. After three days, the pillaging was ceased and division of the spoils was made.

A treaty partitioning the empire was made between Venice and the Crusaders. The Venetians were given advantageous trade rights, a collection of spoils including Four Bronze Horses taken from the Hippodrome, known now as the Horses of St. Marks in Venice. The also acquired many Greek islands in the Aegean Sea. Meanwhile, the Crusaders got Constantinople and its environs declaring a new Catholic empire, known to them as the Empire of Constantinople but known to history as the Latin Empire. The Hagia Sophia became a Catholic Church during this time. The Latin Empire would exist for another 57 years. Baldwin of Flanders was elected its first Emperor, while Boniface of Montferrat was made King of a vassal state, the Kingdom of Thessalonica, based in northern Greece. Meanwhile, various Byzantine noble refugees established Byzantine rump states which claimed to be the true successors and continuation of the Byzantine Empire: The Empires of Nicaea and Trebizond and the Despotate of Epirus in various parts of Greece and Anatolia. These states over the next several decades would engage in civil war and fights with the Latin Empire and its vassal states. Meanwhile, the Latin Empire found itself at odds with the neighboring Second Bulgarian Empire and indeed in short time, the Bulgarians would defeat both Baldwin and Boniface in battle, killing them both and Dandolo would die of old age. Eventually in 1261, the Palaiologos dynasty which ruled Nicaea reclaimed Constantinople after the Latin Empire was weakened due to infighting and losses to the Bulgarians and other Byzantine rump states, was conquered. The “reunified” Byzantine Empire was partially restored for another two centuries but it never reclaimed its former glory and gradually gave way to more internal fighting and external threats such as the Bulgarians and eventually the Ottoman Turks whose empire eventually conquered Constantinople and later Trebizond officially ending the last remnants of the Byzantine and Roman Empire in 1453 and 1461 respectively, renaming the city Istanbul in the 20th century.

The Fourth Crusade increased East-West tensions and unknowingly paved the way for the Turkish takeover of the Balkans and rise of the Ottomans centuries later. The impact could not have been experienced at the time and the events leading to 1204′s Sack of Constantinople developed out of a complex and at times reactionary web of intrigue with multiple actors that lead to its happening, the ripple effects of which would help shape the modern world.

#on this day #byzantine empire #latin empire #constantinople #fourth crusade #venetian republic #the crusades #military history #east west schism

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10/23/2020 DAB Transcript

Jeremiah 42:1-44:23, 2 Timothy 2:1-21, Psalms 92:1-93:5, Proverbs 26:3-5

Today is the 23rd day of October welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian it's great to be here with you today as we continue the journey, the journey through the year, a journey through the month, a journey through life together in God's word. And this week we been reading from the Christian Standard Bible, which is what we’ll continue to do until the end of the week, which we be tomorrow. But we’re here, we’re here now and we’re the book of Jeremiah and we’ll read today chapter 42 verse 1 through 44 verse 23.

Commentary:

Okay. I want to read a little piece of Scripture, little poem, or saying or maybe even lyrics from a very, very ancient worship song embedded into this letter that we’re reading right now called second Timothy. So, these are the words, “for if we died with Him, we will also live with Him. If we endure, we will also reign with Him. If we deny Him, He will also deny us. If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny himself.” Okay, so that little…that little saying, that little kind of creed that we just read, that’s really interesting actually. It’s one of the things that scholars would look at and say, “okay. when did this develop? When was that understanding solidified? Where…where does this go?” And, so, there's debate like over this because why is…whoever wrote this…let’s just say, why did Paul in his final letter on earth put the piece of creed or song lyrics in here? So, it’s in his letter to remind the recipient of this letter, Timothy, what the core doctrine, like what the core beliefs are in the context that they're being used, endurance. Paul's telling Timothy to endure. And we've seen this come up. And I've mentioned that we won't be able to get to the end of the Bible without…like…endurance becomes a central major…like major theme of the New Testament. And it's so funny because it’s like the last thing we want to do or participate in or be involved in. And usually when we have to endure something, we’re not happy about it. We don't see it as a positive thing in any sort of way and we just…all of our prayers and all of our energy is to make it go away when what we see in the New Testament in the early church is that they had to learn how to live with it because it wasn't going to go away. So, Timothy this pastor at Ephesus, he is a trustworthy follower, he is a son in the faith to Paul, Paul had passed the faith onto Timothy, and he had passed the faith on the many others and that passing on of the faith is…was gonna cost him his life. And, so, for Paul to tell Timothy he's going to have to endure is…is essentially Paul seeing the writing on the wall. The Empire had begun to truly actively systematically persecute Christians and marginalize them completely. And Paul was a ringleader of dispensing the faith, right? So, he's in prison. He's probably not getting out of prison. He didn't. But at the time you would think that he's probably gonna die. And, so, when he’s sitting in a dungeon and it's dank and it's cold and he’s thinking about all of his children in the faith and all of the churches, all of the places he will never go again, all of the people he will never see again, he can notice what's happening, that the Empire is coming against this faith and it's all gonna be…like they’re gonna be victorious, they’re gonna stamp it out. They will destroy it from the face of the earth unless God's people endure it no matter what, to the last person. So, Paul knows even though his journey is coming to a close, endurance is going to have to live on in the church in order for it to survive. And, so, this little piece of a creed, this little piece of maybe a worship song that was song as a declaration of faith among the early churches is inserted here in the letter as a reminder to Timothy. And what gets really really interesting here is something that we've mentioned before, but it becomes really poignant here. When this letter was written, even if this was written later after Paul's…like, even if this is a really late first century writing or something like that, a decade or more after Paul's death, it’s still really really early. It's early church material here. And, so, we have to remember that when this letter’s written, when any of these letters that we’re reading in the New Testament were written they weren’t known as the New Testament. There was no such thing as the New Testament. So, Timothy as a pastor in Ephesus couldn't refer to any of the passages that we now continually refer to in the New Testament. It didn't exist. So, Timothy could've taught out of the Torah. He could've referred to any of the communications that Paul had with Ephesus, any of the copies of the letters that had been passed around and collected that they had. And…and they did do that. And then, of course, the, you know, the personal letters that…that might have existed in the churches. So, finding this…this statement in this letter gives us a glimpse into what our earliest brothers and sisters were holding on to, holding onto and singing, as a song, as a memorable thing and that they could continually sing or something that they could declare and state before there was a New Testament, right? So, this is…this is the kind of stuff that was being said in the churches before a cohesive New Testament was pulled together from all of the various, various wide library of things that were being written down before the New Testament was all cohesively collected together. So, kind of having that backdrop, it's like really interesting then to know, okay, we have done plenty of exploration about the trials of the early church. We’ve pretty much demystified the fact that there was not ultimate harmony in the early church. There was all kinds of stuff going on, which gives us kind of a sense of hope that we haven't digressed. We’re just continuing in the tradition of wrestling through what we believe. But our earliest brothers and sisters were trying…were sorting these things out, wrestling through these things trying to find practical ways to live into these things under pressure. And we see that pressure a lot in the church but now we’re like seeing that the Empire's got a vendetta and Christians really are, at least in certain areas and in certain circumstances, really being pressed hard unto death. Christians are being killed. So, to look at what they were holding on to when there wasn't a New Testament to hold on to, when all of the theology of the New Testament hadn't been formed because the New Testament wasn't a closed cannon at this point. So, we’re looking at things in formation, what these brothers and sisters who were holding on to Jesus were holding onto. “For if we died with Him, we will also live with Him. If we endure, we will also reign with Him. If we deny Him, He will also deny us. If we are faithless, He remains faithful for He cannot deny himself.” That’s looking back to a time, although this is in the New Testament, this is looking back to a time before the New Testament and seeing what our brothers and sisters were clinging to. And we need to cling to the same thing.

Prayer:

Father we thank You for Your word. As always, as always, something clicks, something is…is illuminated, something leads us forward, something takes us the next step. You are always there guiding and directing us. Your Holy Spirit is always present leading us the next step forward. And, so, we’re grateful for that. We appreciate it more than our words…like the vocabulary fails at some point because it's…it's a changer…it’s a life changer. You have changed our lives and You continue to transform our lives as…as…as we are diligent at hearing the Scriptures, as we are diligent in pondering and meditating upon them, as we are diligent to quieting ourselves and following the leading of Your Holy Spirit. So, we are so grateful, and we are grateful that we are continuing an unbroken tradition leading all the way back to our earliest brothers and sisters. And, so, to have a glimpse back into what they were holding onto is a beautiful thing and we are grateful for it. And may we hold on and endure as well. We Pray this in the mighty name of Jesus. Amen.

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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:

Hey everybody this is Pelham in Alabama or addicted to Christ calling. I’m calling for T-Ray from Texas. You called. Your call played today on the 17th of October. And you called for your children and you called for Ray Cross, your son who apparently is copying what I did. I wasn’t selling anything but boy I’ve got some stuff I’ve gotta take care of with the government as far as I messed up and I got a DUI and I’ve got all kind of hoops to jump through and I’ve got another case pending or something down in a different county that got put on the side because of coronavirus. And the Lord is in control. He’s on the throne, He is the King of Kings and the Lord of lords and He loves His children. Your daughter who claims she is a pagan, I just wanted you to know that my thoughts and prayers are with you, that this is the cost of freedom, this is the cost of free will. We have to find our own way with fear and trembling. We have to discover who we are in His kingdom and He is so cool, He’s such an incredible Father that He allows us to choose that. He allows us to explore this world, to have our anger, to have our doubt, to choose plots of the enemy, to choose paths that aren’t His path. But He has a way of taking the broken things and He has a way of taking those that are lost and bring them home and He does it poetically. He does it like the ultimate storyteller, which He doesn’t like a boring story. He likes a comeback story. He likes the underdog. He is the ultimate underdog. And I just wanted you to know that your call was the call for me today to…to reach out and pray for you. I love you guys.

Today I remember the warmth of your smile your incredible love for me from the time I was just a child the sound of your voices I can still hear in the wind telling me Tony God’s love doesn’t end I just want to thank you for your prayers and your tears and for not giving up on me after so many fruitless years there were times when I was stupid and selfish at best but your love was consistent through many a test in fact it was my anchor and the only thing sure whenever there was trouble would help me endure I’m sorry I failed you my life was a mess and I prayed every day for your forgiveness you and dad were the best and though everybody says their parents are the best for me I know it’s true because I know I put you through the test and the prayers that you prayed and the tears that you cried condemned me in spirit deep down inside four truly you were two of the best things that God ever placed in my life and I hurt you so bad that it still cuts like a knife but still you forgave me and I prayed every day that God would allow me to show you someday the love that I felt and to be the son I always wanted to be for the two of you then as well as for all eternity for you two were consistent in standing by me and your love brought me closer every day to becoming free thanks mom and dad

[email protected]. Like to give a shout out to Candace and His little Cherry. Know you’re both loved and prayed for daily and once again Brian and the Hardin family than you for this wonderful podcast…

Hi Daily Audio Bible family this is Crowned in His Glory and this is the first time I’ve ever posted a message before. I did ask for prayer and you guys did pray for me on the Prayer Wall for my continued battle with cancer and I thank you. Bless all of you for that. First, I want to thank the Hardin family for this ministry. It has changed my life in the past…past few years. It’s just unbelievable. And I want to pray for Carmen in Orlando I believe. She is faced with the situation that she has to put her father in a care facility, and she is struggling with that. Father we…heavenly Father we pray for Carmen in Orlando and for her earthly father. Take care of them give them comfort and peace. Let this gentleman know that Carmen is only acting in his best interest, that if possible, if she had the ability, she would care for him herself for the rest of his life. Father heal this man, touch him, comfort him and give Carmen the strength to do what she has to do Lord. Give her comfort, give her the…the means and cut through the red tape to get her earthly father put into a care facility that will give this gentleman the proper, most professional care possible. And Lord we…we ask these things in the precious name of your son Jesus Christ.

Hi, my name is Rebecca from Michigan, we’re first-time callers. My husband Skye and I started listening in January. Just need prayer requests for my neck and my jaw. Took a fall when we went on a little mission trip to deliver a bike that we raised for a paraplegic named Eric. We just pray for Eric that he will be touched by the Holy Spirit to want to receive the free gift of salvation and the same for Scarlett, Dave, and John we also met on witness to that trip. And we also pray for this van that we’ve been traveling in to continue to be anointed by God, for open doors to witness to others. And others that we met this last week when we camped, TJ, CJ and Lorrie, that they will come to know the grace and love of Jesus in their hurting lives. And we just pray a blessing over Skye and I to protect our marriage. We need your prayers for…against the enemy for any backlash for doing kingdom work and we pray that over Brian, we pray that over others doing the kingdom work and we just need new means of income since Covid. And, so, just prayers for that and to be led where at where he wants us to be. And this winter as our landlord is selling our house. So, probably some more van evangelism because we’re just tent dwellers in the world anyway. And we believe that Jesus is coming soon, and he is good and I’m expecting good things to come and hope that for all of you. We love you guys and we want you to be encouraged to do the good work of the King of Kings. For He is our treasure and in him our inheritance is going to be amazing in heaven. So, we look forward to that and I just hope for a blessed day for all of you.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible family. I’m Xavier calling in from Cameron and I want to thank each and every one that takes time to pray for our various brothers and sisters __ most especially those having problems in their marriage with their children trying to overcome some drug addiction and where listening to your beautiful voices, where listening to your prayers that you pray for one another gives me hope as well in my own little corner trying also to cope with my own addiction. I just want to thank Brian most especially for everything he says. I love you. It gives me a whole lot of comfort. It gives me a whole lot of peace inside and __ Daily Audio Bible family. It’s like it’s not even virtual. It’s like I have people talking to me right in my ears. So, it…it’s so comforting. I must say. In all of the years this is been my number one spot for comfort and peace and giving the job that I do which drains out all your energy listening to people __ in our country it just gives me a whole lot of peace to come here and know what people are going through and what people also are doing to make sure that they receive comfort in their various destinations. I’m thankful again Brian for your beautiful platform which gives out peace to people all around the world. And I also want to reach out to __ tough time in the family in their personal lives for you __ we’re there life there is hope. Tune into the Daily Audio Bible family every single day and you’ll find comfort like I have found comfort…

Hello DAB family this is Dimitri from Massachusetts. I’m a first-time caller but have been listening since the beginning of the year. Just stumbled over this podcast and been listening ever since and I would like to pray for Dimitri from Oregon or Washington not sure which state, but he called asking for his marriage…asking for prayer for his marriage. And I pray for God’s intervention. I pray for God’s restoration because for God nothing is impossible. And I pray for Christian as she asked for restoration for her parents and relationship with her parents. And I pray so God will restore that relationship because God is an Almighty God. And I pray for every needy heart in the community. I pray for freedom and deliverance from all addictions. I pray for their restoration to the family so God will turn…turn sons back to their fathers and fathers back to their sons and just restore the…the relationship with families and God’s pray…I pray for God’s intervention for every soul. __ and the type of the enemy in the name of Jesus. And I also love to ask prayer if somebody can just pray for me so I can reflect Christ in everything that I do. I have a ministry in church but it’s hard for me to reflect Christ in everything that I do. It’s just hard to work to with people but all things are possible with God. Thank you. DAB family thank you for everything you do Brian and the whole team. God bless you.

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starshipcaptainjojo · 4 years

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Tumblr messed up my formatting so I’m re-posting @kassandraescobat‘s ask response with an actual read-more blah blah blah. This small set of vignettes will also show up on my Ao3 because WHY NOT. Here for those of you who also hate tumblr formatting.

Anyhoo, thank you I’m glad you enjoyed the first part! This kinda thing is great detox between projects for me hahaha

Lan Wangji sat patiently.

“I have to ask, Hanguang-Jun.” Lan Rei put Bichen onto the sword stand next to Suibian with the reverence due for a class A spiritual weapon and gave Lan Wangji the look of infinite patience that he himself had no doubt pointed at many people before.

He didn’t like being on the other end of it.

“Did you think that the curse simply... wouldn’t apply to you?”

“Of course not,” Bichen’s soft voice replied from the sword stand, “however the parameters were... undefined.”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji nodded once, agreeing with his spiritual tool while the soft giggling from behind him told him Wei Wuxian was enjoying his predicament all too much.

“And it took you this long to come back to me?” Lan Rei’s eyebrows slowly climbed toward her forehead ribbon.

“We were halfway to Yunmeng by the time Bichen said anything at all!” Wei Wuxian leaned forward, “if it hadn’t been for-” the silencing spell took effect and Wei Wuxian made an aggrieved sound behind Lan Wangji.

“Bichen is mean!” Suibian commented cheerfully in the silence where Wei Wuxian would have continued, with the kind of glee that had prompted their search for the way to break the curse in the first place. “Why does everyone think I’m the bad one?!”

“In matters of morality, there is no such thing as ‘mean’,” Bichen disagreed too quickly. The two swords on the stand looked no different than they ever had next to one another, but the air hummed around them as the curse wove them together. “Don’t be ridiculous, Suibian.”

“Me, Bichen my darling? How about when you oh so casually disagreed with Hanguang-Jun on the correct way to fight?” Suibian began to laugh again and Lan Rei affixed a red-eared Lan Wangji with that infinitely patient look again.

“Bichen’s observation proved correct,” Lan Wangji sounded defensive and Lan Rei had never had so much fun in her life.

“Oh but when I say anything it’s ‘shameless’ or ‘ridiculous’ eh?” Suibian complained. “Double standard!”

“Shameless.” Bichen sounded pathetically fond and Lan Rei was smiling again.

“Bichen is-” Lan Wangji’s hands tightened on his thighs. “Bichen is truthful. It has said nothing that was not correct.”

“This one humbly requests you perform the curse lifting ritual,” Bichen offered magnanimously, its voice reminiscent more of Lan Xichen than Lan Wangji, sounding demure and friendly instead of cooler and more reserved.

“Unnecessary,” Lan Wangji spoke between grit teeth. “If there is no effect on my cultivation there is no reason to- to silence Bichen.”

“It is unbecoming of the Chief Cultivator to have a cursed sword.” Bichen was entirely serious. “The ritual to remove the curse must be completed.”

“Now who’s shameless?! Hanguang-Jun wants you to speak! Who knew you were the type to defy your master!” Suibian scoffed a little, and Wei Wuxian made a small sound of surprise.

“What Hanguang-Jun fails to realize is that this arrangement will cause undue stress upon his person.” Bichen sounded so reasonable as it asked to have the curse lifted. “It is for his benefit that I make this request of Elder Lan.”

“Bichen is highly intelligent and restrained, its words are only those of necessity or assistance. There is no reason to break the curse if there is no ill effect.” Lan Wangji had the obstinate gleam to his eyes that had troubled his uncle since he was a child. Lan Rei was inordinately fond of him.

“Oh! Oh now Bichen’s words are necessary?! I’m not the one who casually informed a disrespectful innkeeper that he was in the presence of a man who had decimated three thousand cultivators in a single night!” Suibian’s tone had gone from whiny to confident. Lan Wangji recognized that tone as the one that Wei Wuxian used when he was going to be a big problem until he got his way. He glanced to his cultivation partner, who shrugged helplessly and smiled like he was enjoying this.

Lan Wangji glared at both swords.

“Perhaps you should talk this out amongst yourselves?” Lan Rei’s lips twitched again. “If it wasn’t sealing that made your blades- for lack of a better term- speak their minds, then there’s no telling what caused this.” Lan Rei reached into a box at her side and brought out a vial of mineral oil. “For you, Hanguang-Jun. Go to Lotus Pier with Wei Wuxian for the mineral oil that will purify Suibian and then make your decision.”

“The decision is made,” Bichen’s voice was calm and confident as well. “Hanguang-Jun would not do me the disrespect of ignoring my wishes in this matter.”

Wei Wuxian was laughing again.

“Don’t you laugh!” Suibian snapped, “if Bichen is serious you should take it seriously as well!”

“Suibian.” Bichen’s tone was gentle and heartfelt. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well.” Suibian was embarrassed! Lan Wangji would recognize that tone anywhere! “Of course I’ll back you up. You looked after Wei Ying all those years without me. So. Thank you.”

“I will always protect Wei Ying,” Bichen assured Suibian firmly and Lan Wangji heard a small shaky gasp behind him. “It is a given.”

“Elder Lan,” Lan Wangji put his hands on the mat, looking intensely at Lan Rei. “I would petition to leave the curse on Bichen unbroken.”

“Hanguang-Jun-” Bichen’s tone was back to argumentative- or as argumentative as it seemed to get- and Lan Rei made herself more comfortable. She had a feeling she would be sitting there for a while.

#kassandraescobat #ask #my fic #mdzs #sentient weapons #next up is zidian!#i love the idea of suibian and bichen half-flirting but it's all just love and respect for each other's cultivators #mo dao zu shi fanfic #the untamed #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan wangji #wei wuxian #suibian #bichen

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ask-de-writer · 5 years

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WEREWOLVE'S WEDDING : MLP Fan Fiction : Tales to read AFTER the lights are OUT!

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WEREWOLVE'S WEDDING

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

2678 words

Writing begun 10/21/19

//////////////

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Nightmare Night was fast approaching. Blue Bell and her mother Shooting Star were busy preparing for their celebration, two days before that special night. They were not alone in their preparations, either. Ponyville's open thestrals, Sugar Maple and her Grandmare had come to their cottage in the edge of the Everfree, just past the banks of Falmire creek. They did not bother with using the stepping stones, though. They simply glided down into the yard and folded their bat like wings.

As they entered the cottage they called happily, “We brought spreads and preserves for your breads and buns!”

Sugar Maple joked, “It was easy to find your cottage! We just followed the wonderful scent of baking breads and pies!”

She looked about and asked, “I thought that there were going to be more here. Where are they?”

Shooting Star replied indulgently, “There will be! I had word by Magic Net that Caramel and Fangrin are bringing ice cream and some other treats! They may be bringing some other guests, too! If rumor is right, they have got the Stone Ridge Pack to accept Fangrin back and they may be here for the wedding! In any case, they are bringing Grumpeter Goat!”

True to her prediction, the huge Everfree Ridgeback wolf that was Caramel Treat and a second, only slightly smaller one, that was Fangrin, came trotting up the path from Ponyville. Each had bulging saddlebags! They also did not bother with the stepping stones. They simply leaped across the creek!

The rest of the party goers gleefully stripped them of the panniers and started laying out the contents along big trestle tables, to join all the rest of the assorted goodies already there!

Caramel, in high good spirits, told the others, “They are coming! The Stone Ridge pack is just waiting for our howl. Fangrin and I have been looking forward to this day since we met! Shooting Star, I am so happy that you have agreed to officiate our wedding. I know that Reverend Smallflower would have been happy to do it, because I asked him.

“With all of those fool Celestian Church idiots around bothering everypony, and accusing us of being vile creatures of Luna and worse, I just could not resist having you do it. I mean, you are a direct descendant in unbroken line from General Dark Star of the Nightmare's Witch brigade! I had that Rom donkey, Marchhare, look it up. His library has original documents from the Fortress of Nightmare!”

“I am more than happy to do it for you. I do have Princess Luna's formal commission as a Nightmare's Witch Brigade officer. Please invite your guests.”

Caramel and Fangrin sat and, tails wagging, lifted their muzzles to the sky and set free a melodious howl. The howl was answered from different points all about the cleared area around the cottage. That was followed by a nearly continuous soft rustle of leaves as big Everfree Ridgeback wolves converged on the clearing openly, not attempting to be stealthy.

From across the stream came a polite call of, “I heard that there was a wedding here. Am I welcome?” All eyes turned to the spare white pegasus in a flat black hat.

Caramel replied, “Of course, Reverend Smallflower, but the ceremony is to be officiated by Lieutenant Major Shooting Star, of the Nightmare's Witch Brigade.”

He nodded agreeably, “Such was my understanding. I came to watch, congratulate the happy couple and partake of the feast. I brought a small contribution. I have two substantial slices of cured ham for the celebrants and a pair of frostberry pies for the rest.”

Shooting Star invited, “Be welcome, Reverend! Are you afraid of the wolves?”

“Should I be? None of the rest of you seem to be.”

“Not really. Most ponies are anyway.”

With that, Reverend Smallflower simply walked across on the stepping stones and surveyed the table. He set two packages at one end and a large package at the other.

A second late comer called out, “Hi, Caramel! Hi, Fangrin! Sorry that I'm late. Ran into three Celestian priests on the road. That's where I left them. On the road, I mean. I had to dodge into the brush and work my way around them. They were spewing their usual garbage about me being a Lesser Sort, and a Vile Creature of the Accursed Evil Twin.

“Anyway, I brought a big clover top scramble for us and a big omelet. Hope that it will do for the carnivore side of this feast.”

Fangrin romped over to the piebald black, tan, and white goat. “Grumpy! We were waiting for you! Did the Celestians give you some more trouble? How are your studies going? Can we have another checkers tournament soon?”

Grumpy giggled under the physical and verbal assault! Gently pushing away the big werewolf, he replied, “No, the Celestians really didn't give me much trouble. Just blocked the road so that I had to go into the brush to get around them. Other than that it was just the usual verbal idiocy that their so called faith requires of them.

“As for my studies, they are going great! I finally qualified for Abnormal Psych 666! Only one more semester to go and I have my degree! I can't wait for the Non-Equine University to send me my text books.

“Is Wednesday next good for you? I can have the checker board and refreshments out.”

Fangrin happily helped Grumpy to set out his dishes. “This all looks so good, Grumpy! I can't wait for our wedding to be over and the party starts!”

Shooting Star emerged from her cottage, wearing a dark blue uniform with a polished silver emblem of a thestral with spread wings clutching a pair of bars mounted to each shoulder. Floating in air to the right of her head was a stout and intricately carved wand of dark wood with silver tips. It was being casually held at the moment.

Grumpy blinked about three times when he saw her. Turning to Caramel, disbelief in his voice, he asked, “A Lieutenant-Major in Nightmare's Witch Brigade? Really? In this day and age? I thought that they were disbanded at the end of the Second Nightmare War.”

With a twinkle in her eye, Caramel replied, “Yes she is, and a direct descendant of General Dark Star of the Nightmare's Council and battle leader of the Witch Brigade. As for being disbanded, they turned in false wands for destruction and went right on meeting and training in secret.”

Grumpy chuckled at the thought and then pointed excitedly. “She is starting!”

Indeed, Shooting Star had gone to a formal parade stance and her wand was now being held at a still and formal position, tilted slightly toward her guests. She paced forward and stopped halfway to Falmire Creek. She raised her wand and, chanting, swept it in a circle three times. As it swept about, it trailed a tenuous looking glowing sheet the color of thin cirrus clouds lit by moonlight. The sheets settled into a visible circle, encompassing the house and the party, reaching across the creek at the stepping stones. The circle faded from visibility.

She ended by pronouncing, “The Circle of the Moon protects all within from any harm by deed or intent. The wedding parties will now take their places.”

Caramel took a place to the right end of the feasting table, Fangrin to the left. The Stone Ridge pack formed two rows parallel to the table, with Shooting Star at the center. They added another aisle from her down to the creek. The rest of the guests were divided into two groups by the formation.

Loud stomping announced the arrival of the same three Celestian priests that Grumpy had run into earlier. The one in the lead bawled, “This blasphemous gathering of the vile creatures of the Evil Luna must disperse at once, by the order of High Priest Hortimer!”

Shooting Star sauntered insultingly slowly down the aisle of wolves toward the creek. At the bank, by her stepping stones, she replied, “No. We will not disburse.

“Equestria is not a theocracy run by that worthless high priest Hortimer or any other. Our gathering is specifically allowed by the same religious freedom law that allows your so called church to exist. You claim to worship Celestia but you ignore what she herself writes about you and your church. She detests you and all that you stand for, especially your vile doctrine of Unicorn Supremacy.

“You are trespassing on my property. It is properly fenced and posted private, so you know that you are trespassing. Go.”

They responded by rearing up, gathering magic about their horns impressively. Shooting Star casually covered her yawn with a hoof as they let fly.

Their powerful magic hit the presently invisible ward! There was a flare of light from each place that the ward was hit! Their magic rebounded straight back at each of them, knocking them from their hind hooves, right onto their backs and shoving them about five meters across the ground in a wild tangle of hooves and priestly robes!

As they scrambled to their hooves, their leader demanded, “What did you do to us!? Just for that insolence, we are going to use far greater force!”

Shooting Star replied mildly, “I did nothing to you. According to the law of WHATSO YOU DO COMES BACK TO YOU, your own evil returned to you. What you gave, you got. I repeat, you are trespassing. Go. Leave my land, home and guests.”

Grumpy confided his worry to Grandmare, the black thestral, “Shouldn't she be doing something to run them off?”

Grandmare replied with some humor, “She is. She is being a focus to draw their attacks. That invisible ward? Not weak at all and carefully tuned to unicorn magic. Right now, she is trying to get rid of them by using non-equine magic to turn their own magic against them. She does not want bloodshed to mar the wedding.”

“Non-equine magic? I thought that the secret of that was lost when Baratted the Goat disappeared at the end of the Second Nightmare War.”

“No, Grumpy. There are many kinds of magic in the world besides the Equine magic of unicorns. That is what they are learning right now, if they are smart enough to learn, that is.”

A large flash of light from another frustrated attack interrupted their conversation! Excited, Grumpy exclaimed, “Look at them flop back! That must have been a real strong try!”

Chuckling, Grandmare pointed out, “Their pretty white robes are getting all stained and torn! They need to quit while they are still able to walk!”

They heard Shooting Star say, “You have been repeatedly told to leave. Your persistent attacks leave me no choice. Go, or I shall be violent to you.”

Scrambling to his feet, one of the junior priests demanded, “Violent? What do you call this? You have been striking us down! Our robes are ruined!”

She sighed. “If you listened at all, you know why that all happened. Your own evil has been returning to you, that is all. Now, GO.”

Their leader reared up defiant. Before he could do anything, Shooting Star's wand leveled at him! His big priest's Celestian medallion suddenly glowed red and fell from the ornate chain, a molten glob of metal! The chain, no longer a loop, slithered off his neck and fell in an untidy heap beside the congealing remains of the medallion.

While he was screaming his pain at the burned fur and skin on his chest, the same happened to the other two! Their screams joined his! One of them panicked and started to run for the gate! That triggered the stampede! In only moments, all that was left of their presence was trampled and torn sod and the remains of their necklaces.

Shooting Star paced quietly back up the aisle of wolves to her place. Glancing about to be sure that all were where they needed to be, she began in a calm voice, “We are here to wed two excellent Werewolf ponies, Fangrin and Caramel Treat.

“In Ponyville, mostly as ponies, they run a well received restaurant. Rarely turning away any in need, they are a refuge for the needy and hungry. More, they defend any who come to them from all sorts of persecution. They feed all sorts, whether vegetarian, omnivore or carnivore.

“Besides this goodness, they also hunt with the Stone Ridge pack of Everfree Ridgeback wolves. By helping the hunt and freely sharing the kill, they assist their friends of the forest. Through their good offices, peace and friendship have grown between those who live in or close to the Everfree forest and the Stone Ridge pack.

“In that regard, the Duchess of Red Hoof and her heart kept husband the Baron of Drandale, send their warmest regards but Royal obligations have required their presence in Canterlot.

“Caramel and Fangrin now seek to complete a long standing promise and, as the culmination of their goodness and generosity, marry each other and live mated for life.

“Caramel, Fangrin, come before me now.”

As Ponies, both came forward through an aisle of wolves, and met in front of Shooting Star. “If you both still wish to be joined in marriage, mated for life, please raise your left forehooves so that they touch side by side, neither one higher than the other.”

Fangrin's gray and black hoof was raised beside Caramel's candy tan one. Shooting Star's wand, acting like it had a life of its own, laid across both hooves. The same moonlight colored magic that had created such a solid defensive circle, flowed from its tip and enmeshed both hooves.

Leaving her wand in place, Shooting Star quietly commanded, “Now, leaving your feet together, transform before us all to show that no matter the form, you twain are together as one.”

The wand balanced between the two did not move in the slightest as the couple transformed into the physically largest wolves there.

Shooting Star recovered her wand to what Grumpy now recognized as a formal parade rest position. “Now, side by side, neither leading or following, go to the pool of the stream and there drink the water of life together.”

They paced down the aisle of their friends, the Stone Ridge pack, to the pool and, lowering their heads together, lapped up some of the water. Shooting Star's wand shot up a big starburst of moonlike light. Joyously, she called, “By the authority granted me by Luna, the Nightmare, I pronounce you mated for life!”

Caramel and Fangrin made their way back to the table, surrounded by cavorting wolves. They lifted a sheet off of a large haunch that still had coarse yellow fur on part of it. The haunch ended in a heavily clawed paw. Each of them took one end of the big hindquarter and lifted it down to the ground for the pack! While the wolves closed in on it, they did no fighting or squabbling, but took turns grabbing a chunk and making room for the next.

Caramel and Fangrin opened the box that Reverand Smallflower had brought and helped themselves to the ham slices in it. Grumpy, watching the carnivores go for their part of the feast, was a bit green around the gills, as they say. Nevertheless, he was pleased to see Grandmare and Sugar Maple, the thestrals, happily eating up his big omelet.

Blue Bell, Shooting Star's filly, noticed his condition and suggested, “Just come down here, Mister Goat, and concentrate on the pies, cakes and that lovely clover top scramble that you made.”

As he was nibbling up his second slice, Grumpy commented, “Thanks, Blue Bell. Got to admit that this is the first wedding done by witch ponies that I have ever been to. It has been fascinating. And you are right, frostberry pie seems to cure almost anything!

~THE END~

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#WEREWOLVE'S WEDDING #MLP Fan Fiction #Tales to read AFTER the Lights are OUT #Written by De Writer

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xcookyluvrx-blog · 5 years

Text

::x.Storytime.x::

💜 Damaged 💜

🔹 It my first fic, and this is my baby. not fully sure if i am actually going to reveal it entirely to the world.

BUT if i shall choose to reveal it...

🔹Reviews and comments are always welcomed

(((❌Trigger Warnings❌)))

🔸Child Abuse

🔸Domestic and Physical Abuse

🔸Emotional and Mental Abuse

🔸Mentions of Child Addiction

🔸Mentions of Pedophilia

🔸Mentions of Rape

🔸Strong Violence

🔸 Strong Language

❌Continue at your own risk❌

❌May add more warnings as they appear❌

🔹 Without further adieu shall we begin ?

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫

Precious moments began to flood his memory. Random emotions and scents pure as day filled his senses. The subtle feeling of the purple and white petals beneath his fingers. The refreshing calm stream of water flowing from the waterfall just a few meters away. He loved the way the warm sun gently kissed his beautiful caramel skin. The light breeze pushed through his wavy, raven colored mullet styled hair as he sat upon his favorite rock. Pure bliss and happiness is the only thing that occupies his being in this very moment.

The calming scent of the blooming flowers signaling the change of the cold months to Spring sent him to a state of Euphoria. For which he no longer had to stay confined to the safety of his little apartment in the Big City. He was able to come to his favorite place. A place so far off the beaten path, he assumed nobody knew of the area due to lack of foot traffic in the dirt or unbroken branches all around. With this information, he was allowed to spread his wings and be himself.

This was the one place outside that he was able to spread his beautiful wings after a harsh winter. The way they fluttered when the cool fresh subtle mist from the waterfall gently dusted them, sending chills down his spine. The first flight of Spring is always soothing and a necessity. This part of the forest was perfect for his flights of fresh air. The sky was perfect right before Dawn. As the sun kissed the sky good morning and the moon good night, it created a beautiful painting of vibrant colors of pink and a tinge of purple as the moon faded away, allowing him to become lost in a daze.

The heavy tree coverage above made it so he can fly above the tree tops but still stay low enough if needed to make emergency landings. The constant caves within the high rock formations were a plus as well.

{{{ End of Flashback }}}

He was snapped back to reality the moment he felt a shift in the air. He didn't have to open his eyes to know who it was. This person was shy yet interesting. He yearned to know this person. The person who chose to defy their own self conscious of listening to their Boss' orders to not harm or play with the Princess.

"Y'know, you think by walking lightly everytime you enter that dingey hallway is truly going to scare me or something?" he says annoyance obvious in his tone.

The person doesn't respond but instead can only allow a sly smirk dance across their lips as their eyes drop instantly to the floor.

In this moment, he opens his eyes and glances towards the door with the tiny one way window.

"Are we still pretending to be loyal and NOT dare enter Boss' playroom?" he waits for a response.

"What's wrong? Worried I'm going to tell BossMan that you're not as obedient as he thinks? That one of his high ups is willing to risk his position, his very life, just to be in that old dingy hallway, hm?"

They can't help but find his antics amusing to say the least. He is bold and he is nothing compared to how he acted when he first was brought to the mansion. So because he obviously wanted to play games, they thought to themself, why not play along. After all, it is HIS house and HE is the one who kept him.

⏮️⏮️ Rewind 2 Months ⏮️⏮️

"Lunatika finally has the Kingdom to herself lately?" Yoongi sarcastically says, causing her to return to reality and finally blink. The City skyline now in her view.

"Shut the fuck up Yoongi. Why are you always putting your nose where it doesn't belong?" Anger evident in her tone accompanied with a stare that sent chills as she turned to walk away from the window.

"Listen Amaris, you may be Boss for now, but remember your place." he says calmly.

A death ridden stare is what she delivered him, accompanied with a slight head tilt.

"Yoongi, Yoongi... I know my place very well. Question is, do you?" emotionless eyes now centered at his.

"As far as I remember, you been with Bossman years before I was brought in." She continues as she strides towards him.

"Yet you are still only a General? where as I hold his second in command." she spits bitterly at him.

"Watch yourself! I may not hold the title officially, but im still the one who he turns to."

"Officially, you're just his street rat w-"

*SLAP*

She was cut off by the back of his hand making contact with her cheek. Shock spread across her face.

"You may hold Underboss, but remember im your older brother Amaris! Know your place!" he says as he turns to walk away.

Siblings but with two different personalities. Childhood for them was non existent. they had no social skills besides each other and even then, their interaction was bare minimum. But do NOT doubt their bond that held them together. Father would violently punish them daily and Mother was no better. father would beat them for the simplest of things. mother would starve them if their chores weren't up to her standards. she would burn them with a heated spoon if they looked at her. the small cigarette burns were littered across their arms and hands.

Mother was a drunk who had a thirst for torture. the thought of feeling another life slip from her bare hands was just like her wondering what she would have to eat. Yoongi was kept locked in a cage in the darkest part of the basement, often times starved and ignored. late nights Amaris would sneak into the basement and give Yoongi some food she managed to sneak away during the supper she was allowed to have. She would stay with him and comfort him th best she could through the cage. Fingers locking with his through the openings. they knew the danger of getting caught but she would risk it all, knowing she did her best to help him. it weighed on both their minds when father would often take her on business trips with him. to their mother, they were fun, bonding moments between father and daughter. reality was, she would be savagely taken by her fathers business associates who would be willing to pay a pretty penny. he would occasionally question why his associates are always willing to pay more for longer time. eventually, curiosity got the best of him and he self indulged. that was her breaking point. when she came back after that she vowed to stop it all once and for all.

Amaris had enough with her life. she tried freeing herself many times. each time failing worse than the last. Until one day...

{{{ END OF UPDATE }}}

#storytime #fanfic #bts #mixed fandom #newbie

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squidproquoclarice · 5 years

Note

The John/Arthur reunion will likely happen in Chapter XIII? 13? But we are now on 50? Can you please clarify because I am currently incredibly invested in John & Arthur as the brothers who might finally see eye to eye. The development of their relationship throughout the RDR2 narrative is just so interesting and perhaps a bit underrated - you just made it justice by your Red Talk though! Not to mention full of memorable quotes ("You must be nervous being this close to water.")

cont.: I was just playing through the mission where A &J blow up the bridge which is so rich in the character building, ending foreshadowing etc. and I'm just thinking - on the one hand Arthur tells John to just cut and run and to be loyal to what matters, on the other they both just do this incredibly stupid terrorist act for the sake of Dutch whose judgment they don't even trust anymore? Why? I'm playing through Ch.6 for the second time and it's just such a crazy desperate ride to nowhere ..~~~~~~~Hi friend! OK, on the first question, this is dealing with the difference between Chapter (big C) and chapter (little c), and it’s an issue of the format of a game vs a fic.The game separated things into sections with place names called Chapters, i.e. Chapter III/3 was Clemens Point, Chapter VI/6 was Beaver Hollow, etc.Given Sunrise is effectively intended as a post-Chapter 6 “DLC in novelized form”, I continued that trend and picked up where they left off, with Chapter VII/7: Wapiti, Chapter VIII/8: Las Hermanas, etc. That’s Chapter with a big C.For chapter with a small c, that’s it being a fic. Those are comparable to missions in-game (”Further Questions of Female Suffrage,” “The Course of True Love III”, etc.), and I also give them names in that style.So when I talk about that reunion, I’m referring to big-C Chapter 13, which is the section titled Horseshoe Overlook II, with the latest update of chapter 50. Small-c chapter 13 was “May The Circle Be Unbroken” and was back in Chapter 8, Las Hermanas. Sadie and Arthur kicking some ass in Arthur’s first big foray into action after Beaver Hollow, but sadly, no John reunion. ;)I’m careful to use Chapter vs chapter in my replies, but I can remind myself to use section (Chapter) or mission (chapter) titles as well if that would help people.On the second part, that’s also a format thing, I suspect. RDR2 being an action-based game implies plenty of missions with killing. I’d written a meta, which I of course now can’t find with Search because Tumblr is a massive cock about these things, about how the gameplay mechanics of pretty much nothing but forced repeated (and unrealistically large) massacres in the later Chapters are disappointing as they occur alongside both great storytelling and in a game where you previously had stealth missions and non-violent options. Even in Chapter 6 you have the option to retrieve the chanupa for Rains Falls completely stealthily, and RF praises Arthur’s restraint and humanity in doing that, so I’m really not sure why we have to go on murder sprees where if those numbers were real and they’d slaughtered hundreds, not only the Pinkertons but probably the US Army would be after the Van Der Lindes. It doesn’t really fit Arthur’s story. It doesn’t even fully fit with Dutch’s fully embracing overwhelming violence. It only fits with the notion that this is an action game and therefore dozens of faceless minions have to die. But games like Dishonored that actually have trophies for doing the game without a single kill prove that you can have an action game and not be forced to turn into a murderhobo. I fuckin’ love RDR2, OK? It’s a beautiful game with a truly memorable char and char arc in Arthur. It’s affected me, and others, in so many ways. But that’s mostly Arthur’s char.Honestly, the more I look, the more flaws I see. Some very weakly written chars. Taking the easy offramp to an endgame and RDR1 by killing Arthur rather than letting his story fully unfold. And one big criticism I have is promising we had choice that mattered, because we don’t. The game unfolds the same either way. The dissonance between Arthur’s developing character and our forced onscreen actions in story missions just keeps getting wider and wider as the game goes on.tl;dr: While it’s realistic that to a certain point Arthur and John are going to cling to Dutch far too long out of love and loyalty and continue to do things they’re conflicted about, it’s overly reductive action game mechanics and forced plot points rather than genuine responsive plot to player choice driving your experience. So yeah, it doesn’t really make sense.

#arthur morgan #john marston #rdr2 #thank you for coming to my red talk #Anonymous

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sunshineandfangs · 5 years

Text

Klarosummer - Great Barrier Reef || Memento Mori

@klarosummerbingo

Bingo!

The RNG gods have finally given me a bingo, not that it really matters since my goal is to do the whole card, but still.

Warning: this one is on the darker side. It’s not too bad, but just heads ups. Also semi-graphic violence toward the end.

Caroline stared out into the blue-green sea (maybe in another life, she’d call it aqua or turquoise). And it was beautiful. Her keen eyes were able to see the shadows and distortions of the coral formation, even from her place on the shore.

A tiny smile broke the smooth lines of her face. She had promised herself that one day she would come here. Feel hot sand under her feet. Have the Australian sun glint off her hair. Dive into the Coral Sea and witness the beauty of the reef for herself.

And yet it still felt like a dream (no matter that her actual dreams were only blood and darkness). She had cradled and nursed the idea so carefully, so delicately for nearly two decades. And now she was here. Standing on the beach.

Alive.

In person.

Her golden dream turned to reality.

She could still remember the day that sweet dream was coaxed into existence. How the Caretaker spoke to them, voice infused with trained softness.

“Alright, little ones, are you ready for your next assignment?” He paused, waiting for the acknowledging nods and polite, yes,sir’s. “For the next several months, I want you all to pick and then research one place you would like to go above all others. And then, we shall discuss them all together at the end of that time frame. But for today, we’ll start with suicide sprints. Line up, little ones.”

How months later he congratulated them all for their hard work and dedication. Telling them to hold onto that drive and spirit, infuse it into every one of their assignments. That one day their reward would be the freedom to visit those glorious places.

How a few years after that he told them to crush that dream. That as Soldiers in the war against The Scourge, desire was the most dangerous thing they could possess. Desire meant leverage. Leverage meant death.

Caroline closed her eyes. Remembered the shock and sadness that appeared in some of the children’s faces.

Of course, some rebelled. And those that did quietly disappeared.

”No need to fret, little ones. Not everyone can be Soldiers. They have been transferred elsewhere, to a place where they can still be of use in our fight.”

By their late teens, those that remained, were frighteningly lethal little creatures. Obedient and cutthroat. The pinnacle of physical and mental performance.

“Congratulations, little ones. You are ready. Ready to become Soldiers.”

Despite their training, all of them screamed that day. Screamed until they fell silent. Came out the other side as Other, a few faces missing from their number.

But that was alright, not everyone could be Soldiers.

---

Caroline shook her head, compartmentalizing that mindset. It didn’t belong in this place.

On silent feet, she made her way toward the water.

“Soldier 31185.”

Caroline froze. No. How could he-?

Explosions. Fire. The entire complex and all of its inhabitants, burning to ash.

Yet, even as part of her scrambled to make sense of this ghost, the rest of her categorized the facts and her surroundings.

Director William Forbes survived.

And he was here for her.

---

Klaus had been observing the lovely blonde for some time now. At first he had been planning to have a little bloody snack, maybe more if she was receptive. Her legs were lovely after all, and he was sure they would look equally fantastic wrapped around him.

But something had made him pause.

He noticed she was rather quiet for a human. Oddly graceful as well. And he recognized that type of fluid lethality. She was neither a vampire nor a werewolf, so what made such a young woman a predator in human skin?

---

Caroline turned, keeping the man firmly in her line of sight, as she contemplated her options. No one was around, at least not within a human’s sensing range. She had picked a swath of private beach after all, desiring the peace and solitude.

And now she was unsure if it was to her benefit.

“Daddy,” she finally acknowledged.

It had been what she always called him in private. For years, it had made her proud to know the Director was also her father. Thought it made her special. And she supposed it did, in a way. She had been the most successful of all the Soldiers. The most efficient. The most obedient. The highest kill count.

But now she could only wonder if it was fanaticism or monstrosity that enabled the man to use his own daughter. The others carefully selected from a pool of street urchins and orphans, those who would be unnoticed and unmissed.

But not the director, no, he handpicked her. Reinforced all her lessons with his own brand of manipulated affection. Called her Care when he praised her. Braided her hair while he drilled her on her mental exercises. Tucked her into bed every night with a kiss to her forehead.

Now, the man just eyed her with disapproval.

“You are a disappointment, Soldier.”

Caroline couldn’t suppress her slight flinch, feeling something twist inside her when he only frowned more heavily.

“Such a waste,” he continued, derisive. “How you bring me such shame. After all I did for you, and you repay me by destroying some of my best work. Though I do congratulate you for your ruthlessness. You spared no one.”

This time Caroline’s face was stone. She had seen it as mercy to end the existence of her once companions. There had no longer been a trace of life in any of them.

“How can you hate me so much?” she asked, tone carefully level despite the words.

And her father’s face softened. “Oh, Care, because you are a monster, sweetie. And the Augustine Society destroys monsters.”

Her voice was ice when she replied. “I am only what you created, Director.”

He had the audacity to smile at her. “And you had been my greatest creation. That is why it is my duty to end your disgrace now, before I start my work anew.”

She didn’t want to hear anymore.

In a flash, she removed her dagger (her father had once given it to her. “Make me proud, Care.”), throwing it with honed expertise and unnatural force. The weapon buried itself to the hilt, tearing through his heart with unerring accuracy.

It was almost a surprise, when the man simply pulled the blade out again. His skin sealing shut in an instant.

“At least you can still do something right. The heart, though, 31185? Such sentiment.” He threw the dagger back, aimed for her head. Even with her own abilities such a blow would render her unconscious for a few moments.

He was right, aiming for the heart had been sentiment. An ordinary human would not have survived her path of destruction through the Society. And Caroline didn’t make amateur mistakes; William Forbes had been in the compound that night.

She caught the blade, spinning it dexterously to hold it properly. “Perhaps, Director, but I had expected a human opponent not a fellow monster.”

Rather than becoming angry, the man just laughed. “We need monsters to hunt monsters, 31185. You know that. It has always been this way. Why else did you think your enhancements were so much more powerful than the others?”

That did actually surprise her, enough that she nearly failed to block his sudden attack. Her dagger awkwardly dug into the flesh of his black, mutated arm, his skin unbroken.

Then, he backhanded her, sending her flying a few feet into the water. Strong.

She stood up in a flash, eyes fixated on the man who was nearly on top of her again. Fast.

Abandoning the dagger, Caroline extended all the nails of her hand, transforming the weak keratin into an arrangement of carbon nanotubes. Their near monomolecular edge sliced clean through the Director’s strange black form.

For a moment, she held him suspended there, impaled on the end of her arm.

“Is that all? Weak, girl.”

The man further sliced his own body as he shifted, rearing back and punching her, sending her flying back into the water.

She landed with a splash, floating among the coral, trails of his blood coloring the water as her nails washed clean.

She truly did only dream of darkness and blood.

---

It was an unusual feeling for Klaus to experience, wanting to defend another person. Yet he stayed his hand. He knew all about disappointed, murderous fathers. She would have no peace unless she ended him herself.

Or died trying.

Though, that would be a shame.

---

Caroline’s heart clenched, stuttered a beat, then set a pounding, unnatural rhythm. Her senses sharpened. Bones hardened. Muscles condensed. Stronger. Faster.

Enough.

She propelled herself toward the shallow bottom, bracing herself in the sand and rocketing herself up and out of the water. She cleared the surface and shore by tens of feet, using the vantage point to extend her nails farther. This time she sliced, tearing through the man’s limbs, even as they regenerated nearly as quickly.

Gravity eventually took hold, dragging her back toward the Director. She pursed her lips, using the added momentum to power a heel drop kick. It sent him (her Director, her father, William), into the ground, his skull and upper spine crushed.

She doubted he was dead.

Using the brief respite, she pulled a second dagger. It was nearly identical to the first one except for one special component. She hurriedly twisted the handle as she watched her father’s body rapidly heal. A little chamber opened up, and an odd purple-tinted fluid coated the blade. Nails retracted, dagger in her right hand, Caroline pinned her father to the sand, and waited for him to wake up.

She stared him in the eye, blue to blue, as she plunged the blade into his heart and twisted.

Unlike before, he couldn’t nonchalantly shrug off the blow. And though his body struggled to heal the wound, the mutated black pigment faded from his skin.

Caroline watched as bulging gray-blue veins crawled across pale, pink flesh. Kept watching until the life faded from her father’s eyes, his whole body covered in the raised veins.

Ironic. He almost looked like a vampire.

She twisted the handle a little more, ensuring all the fluid was dumped into his corpse. And then, just to be thorough, she stabbed a second copy, chamber open and blade coated, into his brain.

She wasn’t sure how long she stared at her father’s remains, but her own anatomy had returned to near-humans levels. When she stood, her legs felt almost cramped from kneeling for so long.

“Goodbye, Father,” she whispered, her next exhale shaky.

She closed her eyes, saddened, how even now the Society managed to taint a bit of her golden dream.

---

“That was very impressive, sweetheart.”

Caroline whirled around, startled that she had been caught off-guard twice now.

A tall, blond haired man stood several feet behind her. A little smirk, highlighting the dimples on his face. She frowned, realizing quickly that he wasn’t human, dreaded that he had seen and hear everything.

He clasped his hands behind his back as he took a few steps toward her, keeping a human pace though the motion was supernaturally graceful.

“My name is Klaus, and I would be most intrigued to hear more of your history. Never have I seen your like before.”

Caroline froze for a split second and his lips quirked a bit higher, his eyes flashing gold for an instant.

“And you’ve heard of me. Fantastic.”

---

Author’s Note: Memento Mori is the rather famous Latin phrase meaning “remember you will die.” I thought it rather apropos for this version of the Augustine Society. Fun fact: the symbol is a reference to St. Augustine and vampires, so very on the nose. Fun? fact #2: Translate Caroline’s number back into letters (3-1-18-5). Bill is a rather fucked up guy in this. And yeah, I used some blatant anime references here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#Klaroline #KlarosummerBingo #Klaroline Fanfiction #Klaroline Drabbles #Klaroline Edits #Klaroline Photosets #Klaroline Aesthetics #My Writing #My Edits

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frstbiitten · 5 years

Text

Trigger warning: alcohol, death mention, drugs.

That same night she almost didn't get any sleep, Lewis insisted on leaving her in his apartment and coming back in the early morning while Clarissa refused and wanted Snowflake to rest in her room for tonight, she could sleep that night on the couch, preferred for her to be under surveillance before leaving her alone. Before letting the young girl into her own room, the environment erupted into an argument caused by Clarissa that followed for a few more hours.

"Tell me, how old are you really?" She had drunk enough to start standing in a more relaxed manner but her face wouldn't let go of the recent worry.

"I told you she's 21!" Lewis was in much the same condition, with a beer bottle in his hand and a smell of sweat that was unbearable, sitting next to the wooden table close to the wall.

"Stop. Lying. Asshole!"

"I'm 16 years old... is that what you want to know? Well yes, I'm not 21, I'm 16, do you have anything against me for not being the age you expected?" An unbroken silence fell over them for a few seconds only, but it still seemed like the minutes have been enlarged. Clarissa approached the girl as she struggled to maintain her balance, her eyes were bright and narrow, placed a hand on her shoulder but she had to remove it since the girl's skin was so cold.

"No... there's nothing against that... just that you're in a lot of trouble... A lot of trouble, believe me... you have to take care of yourself." Those were obvious words but they were meaningful, couldn't take it lightly if she wanted to survive and win another day, and those were words packed with experience. It did her good to hear what others more familiar with the subject might have to say.

"Well, you can't exactly s-solve it, obviously they don't let minors fight like that, it's already been done and it's extremely dangerous." Lewis paused, actually, he had to burp to be able to continue talking. "Clarissa, do you remember?" The sister laid her pale eyes on her brother's face, tilted her head to the right and a sound of broken glass burst in the room. Her strength was slightly dulled by the alcohol in her blood, throwing the bottle that had been in her hand without much effort, Lewis threw himself to the floor before the bottle hit his face, laughing at the reaction... the young woman in the room didn't understand what was happening exactly, running to the safety of the room and closing the door behind her.

It would have been better not to know what happened before, but one could have noticed the tension that night before the fight because of Clarissa's presence there among the spectators. Lewis told Snowflake the next days that in reality his sister was technically not allowed to be there, the last time she fought in the cage she had such bad luck that her rival was a fifteen-year-old girl, she lived in the streets since she was a child and that night she wanted to try her luck before dying of hunger. The show was short-lived, as it is very unlikely that a non-professional who is not well nourished can beat someone who is far more experienced. But that was not all, because Clarissa could not kill her properly, although she had broken her spine and suffocated her for several minutes, the girl did not perish, it seemed impossible that at that point she refused to die but her body resisted even in its weakest moment. It was a scandal, many thought that she did it on purpose to create a reputation that would give others a reason to be afraid of her, but she did not. It was never under her own control and refused to continue fighting.

She could not sleep that night, not only because of the argument the siblings were having in the other room but for the fear of closing her eyes and not knowing what she would find once she begins to dream. In the darkness of the night, as it gradually invaded her head, the moonlight transported her to an unknown place, the only light coming from the starry sky above her head, and filtering through dry branches like spiders weaving threads of darkness. She was unsure if she's walking or flying, she's moving forward, is she? Her destination was an unreal scenario as well as it was horrific, she wanted to scream but something was squeezing her neck, her own hands around her neck.

A naked body was raised about 4 meters above the ground but it was pierced by several icy formations as giant needles from the ground, two in the legs, one in the stomach, another in the chest, and one in the head, was the thinnest but seemed the most lethal. The girl could hear the blood dripping and staining the stone floor, her arms were immobile and noticed they were missing, only exposed bones and muscles in shreds where her hands should be. She came a little closer, could not see who was this woman suffering this horrible death, but it was freezing her blood to listen to her suffer, her jaw was quivering and tried to breathe through her mouth. Could see her but she couldn't do anything to save her, and there was nothing left to do, however, it wouldn't be the last time they would encounter in her dreams.

The image appeared again for 15 days, they were not consecutive but she remained in the same place, elevated while gazing at the sky, sometimes the young girl saw the female figure shivering and a couple of times she heard her scream, one time she thought she was shedding tears, that's when she realized she was crying while screaming for mercy. Her sobbing was heartbreaking and her tears created a pond big enough to reach Snowflake... Eirwen, there was no need to use stupid nicknames here. The water fused with the blood reached for her toes and thought to see more gigantic needles of ice piercing the body. When she had fully recovered from her broken bones, that image disappeared from her head, felt relieved when no longer saw the image in the middle of the night, and when it finally left her she could breathe better than before, with less ache in her body.

The night of her return was as glorious as the first, no, better than the first, the strangers who did not know her at first seemed to be enchanted by the brutality of the young woman, from the outside it was the most spectacular carnage. Inside, she sensed that with each blow some unknown part of herself was leaving, the punches were incessant, that night she heard thunderous drums beating against her skull every time she hit the other rival, the fury took over her senses and she was not even a spectator of what was happening, she was confined to be a puppet of the emotions that scorched inside her chest. The sound of the drums dissolved into echoes in the midst of a dark room in the middle of the night, her skin trembled under her clothes as she watched the door close, the door opening soon after, her bones paralyzed. It was fear, it grew inside her, it rotted her insides and now it was she who paralyzed those who stared at her.

Then there was calm but did not last long as it came with headaches and physical pain of spending so much energy in a night of fighting. She had succeeded, she had earned money and taken the chance to live another day, would have to be satisfied with her achievement tonight, it was not like that. Cleaning the body after the fight was becoming a silent ritual that only she could understand, she saw the dry red spots become liquid once again as the shower water came down over her head, gently cleansing her skin. It was a relief that they had showers in that building, how the hell did it hold up after all? Is still confused about this illegal world that many people know about but none of them seemed better than her, one could say that judging by their looks and way of talking they were as ruined as she was.

"We should celebrate your return and victory, don't you think?" Clarissa could only think of relaxing after a long night like that, there were places that, even though they didn't look good, offered loud music, drinks and more things that the girl still couldn't access to right now due to her age.

"Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?" It was enough to know that if she wanted to continue with the night, they'd have to go back to the siblings' apartment and borrow some clothes. She wasn't sure if a tight dress would fit her at all or if it was appropriate for her age, she preferred not to wear heels, but shoes that could be considered 'nice' and comfortable, as well as braiding her hair and forming a bun. Well... didn't know if she looked that bad in front of Clarissa's mirror, or that uncomfortable.

"By the way, be careful with what you drink." It is what Clarissa mentioned before forcing the girl to sit down on the mattress and applying a light foundation on the pale skin, it seemed to create an illusion, adding years to her features. Dark lipstick and eye shadow to match with the rest of her look. Needed to remember that advice once or twice through their trip in Lewis' car.

There are certain rules to follow when you want to enjoy the rest of the night until you are fed up. She has never had the opportunity to visit a place to have fun with the simple objective of forgetting anything that happened during the day. The fists still echoed with the pain of the hits, but with the passing of the night, they would alleviate very soon. That and a few drinks in between.

"Don't drink too much, you have money but we don't want you to spend it on drinking and then get lost in the crowd." Even though Lewis had said no, he finally agreed to give her something to drink, could she bear it? Sure, it was illegal, what wasn't illegal at this point? They lived under no rules and who would dare to forbid them, although with the makeup on her face she gave the impression to be a young adult and not a teenager. The first rule, she couldn't be apart from them much.

"Watch the glass, keep it with you at all time." It was the second time Clarissa insisted on watching what she was taking. What kind of paranoia was that? Could something wrong happen to her? She did not ask questions of any kind, for she preferred to sip on a sweet daiquiri, at first she found it awful, then it was softer and more bearable for her throat, felt as if her neck would catch fire if she drank again, but she was soothed after the fourth sip.

It was a good idea to come with comfortable shoes, the figures around her after a few minutes -or hours?- began to dissipate in the atmosphere, the lights were too dimmed and the crowd occupied almost the entire compound, it seemed that many people came to this place but could not imagine where they came from exactly. Hours -or minutes?- passed and not even Clarissa or Lewis would dance with her, they were sitting in a remote area under a red light, there were seats around a glass table with half-empty glasses and cigarettes still lit placed on it. She didn’t want to let them out of her sight, although her glass was with them now, hers was completely empty without any liquid. Looked closely at the faces of strangers who were coming into her field of vision, people who were disappearing into the darkness and the lights, attempted to imitate the movements of the others, was she really enjoying it? What exactly was she doing here?

It came to a point in which she couldn’t see the two siblings, in fact, she could no longer see the entrance or the part of the bar, only listened to the noisy music coming from the speakers, the bodies around her led her to an area where she seemed to be in the center of a black hole, around her everyone was dancing to a disappearing rhythm. One of her arms ached slightly, she gradually lost feeling in one of them, right or left? What's more, her body was asking to be able to sleep and rest, the young girl was exhausted... She pulled both hands to her face and grunted against her palms, nobody seemed to notice her behavior or how she is feeling, her own feet moved in an unknown direction, north or south? Needed to get out of there, somewhere, anywhere.

Eirwen never collapsed against the ground, no matter how much she thought about being inside of a dream or a nightmare.

#novel #((yup... now is starting to get blurry))#alcohol tw #death mention tw #drugs tw

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wisdom-and-such · 6 years

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If I look upon, The still mirror of my heart What there do I see? Is it the same mind it was Yesterday, or it is changed?

-Rikyu

This elegant poem perfectly relates the essence of a key category of buddhist thought that stems from the root of: The realization of how the self relates to the continuous change perceived to take place in all things surrounding, as well as in itself. We ask what such change must mean to the nature of the self, or more accurately, to our personal conception of its nature. Moreover, we realize we’re now required to revise the meaning, or the definitions derived from, in relation to, properties of the self’s nature.

For example, the meaning of a near fatal accident changes if the self is actually one participant in a computer simulation that starts characters who ‘lost’ anew. Things that bear a core relation to, or which essence is in part founded on, the facts and qualities of the nature of the self; so that if that nature is altered (as in new understanding prompting change in our definition of it), the nature of the related item also becomes altered.

This little poem establishes a clear trail to all these concepts, placing the eminent internal understanding in the poem and inplying the explanatory logic written here must be composed by the mind of the reader when working out its meaning.

Further, that the self is always in continuous change is used as a logical point in establishing it to be more accurately conceived as contrary to the seemingly default assumption which results in part from the continuous relationship with a physical body. A body that is consistent in its changes, and otherwise changes relatively little. It changes only in accord with the properties of its physical features, like movement, or which enable movement, and so on. A physical body which has all the qualities of other physical objects, which can change position or shape in time but remains continuous in that the position of all its parts coincide with the space which it resides, persisting without any period of disintegration, adhering to the qualities of its features in all things, including its own deconstruction or any event of radical change. For example, a large rock breaks down at a rate depending on the tensile strength of which its parts are bound together.

Because the body of a living creature shares the properties of all other physical objects, we assume the self tied to it to have some basic qualities also. We apply the self to the form of a single entity that is ‘it’ here and ‘it’ there. Yet upon comparing two points featuring the self, by holding two distinct events which occur a significant distance of years apart; holding up these vivid memories in our mind, and trying to exclude any bias of our present disposition, we examine the qualities attributed to the self in each.

Excluding projections of relation formed in line with our previous view, in comparing the details of two vivid memories, we curiously find that, actually, other than the given name used as verbal reference (which is yet another manifestation of the physical body being continuous), and other than the unbroken chain of consciousness and physical processes that run throughout, we can find little or no real, consistently present, quality or feature, to be the same in an isolated moment of our self at a young age, and a similarly isolated moment in life at later age.

When examined with honesty, we even find that nothing is consistent enough as a basis for definition between the traits of our self in two moments that come one after another, mere minutes or seconds apart.

Whether it be beliefs, general feeling, perception of the external happenings, its’ character, its’ ethics, or simply the current visual sensation, the current thought, or the present location it is feels itself to occupy.

And in yet another experimental thought, we see that although the events contained in our life do not change after happening, the narrative of our lives reality is changed many times throughout without necessitating any error in our gathering of the facts of the event in either of its formations. Nearly every single trait of our self from one point to another is changed to such degree that it is rendered not only not the item defined by direct apprehension previously, but positively dissimilar from it in most aspects.

So, what do these resolutions imply about the nature of the self as it is now better understood? If there is no guarantee of comparable features between the self in one moment and those of another, why is that of importance? When we examine what we can say about the self, we are dumbfounded until we inevitably conclude it to be all our moments, essentially the sum of experience ; things like where we are, what we are seeing, what we are thinking, and how we are feeling, the perception or assigning of values and meaning to involved parties, alterations of value due to context by relation to a created narrative, and so on to include a total sum that is our experience of a given moment. But if there is, as we have seen, continuous change in all things around us, when defining ourself by our sum experience, because of the drastic variance in moments of experience, we then define our self as having no consistent properties necessary to exist as a unit that can be known and named.

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iforcedabot-blog · 6 years

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I Forced a Bot To Watch Every TNG and DS9 Episode and Write One of Its Own

You may have seen “I forced a bot to watch” posts where someone claims to have “forced a bot” to read or watch hours of video and written it’s own script. Those weren’t real but in recent history it has become possible to do it for real in a pretty convincing way with OpenAI’s GPT-2 system. This is an unbroken, unedited sample of GPT-2 ‘fine-tuned’ on all the TNG and DS9 scripts. Note that television scripts have have distinct formatting and style and all of that is copied perfectly by the bot. It even *almost* gets understands page numbers (in the first example – 28, 28, 28A).

28 EXT. PLAZA/SURFACE - DAY (OPTICAL) Data and Worf as before. DATA (puzzled) You left him there? He left him there? WORF Yes. He had been there for hours... then decided that I was going to kill him. Data frowns, he can't figure out how to phrase what he did... DATA I do not understand. WORF You knew? DATA I was afraid. They exchange a look... Data thinking quickly, is back to the source... DATA (continuing) I could have programmed some medical bank monitors to monitor you for a pulse response when you could enter Klingon memory. WORF We would have -- STAR TREK: "The House... " - REV. 08/10/94 - ACT FOUR 45. 28 CONTINUED: DATA But I was afraid that it would disrupt my memory. PICARD I'll tell you what I have to do. They look at him and then Picard EXITS. Data sits in command. CUT TO: 28A INT. WORF'S QUARTERS The room is DARK and distant. Worf is struggling to regain his senses as Picard ENTERS. WORF Captain... everything I saw is gone... everything. Worf regards him for a moment... then he starts to fight it off... he stops in surprise... he doesn't know how all this is going to impact his relationship with him... he's uncertain what to do... he glances at the wall panel and frowns, surprised at the way he sees Worf... he glances around the room and tries to find a way to fight it off-kilter... it's pretty night... Worf hits the wall panel and it OFF. WORF I was... heading somewhere. PICARD Worf... what's the matter? Worf decides to break for a moment... he EXITS.

That was one the first scenes I generated that impressed me, though it cheats a bit with by being mysterious enough that it’s hard to rate how coherent it is. But you could almost see as one of the more moody and experimental character-focused episodes in Season 7 TNG. Earlier networks could copy the formatting of a TV script but they totally fell apart when you tried to actually understand the content. Even which characters were present in a scene did not stay consistent from line to line. GPT-2 handles this amazingly keeping track of not just characters but subject of conversation in a scene.

Here are some more samples chosen mostly for the humor:

DAX I think we're lucky this was just a bad batch of equipment. KIRA I'm glad you think that. DAX I'm glad we're lucky. KIRA Okay. I'm going to let you use the Bajoran storage bin to backup your data on this trip. And with that, Kira heads off down the Corridor. We HOLD on a thoughtful Dax. 19 INT. OPS Kira and Dax EXIT the turbolift, followed by Sisko, who goes to the Transporter Room in frustration. DEEP SPACE: "The Wire" - 03/01/94 - ACT ONE 12. 19 CONTINUED: KIRA It's not working. DAX I'm having trouble retuning the transceiver. The adaptors won't work. KIRA Maybe they should replace us by rentals. DAX With what? KIRA With your arms. DAX With your hands. KIRA Your arms. DAX You're lifting your arms. KIRA My arms. DAX (the hurtiest) Your arms. They're my hands. Kira takes a beat, looks down at her arms for a moment. KIRA They're your hands. (a beat) You know what I see when I get this... DAX (laughing and crying) Kira, you never told anyone about your arms. DEEP SPACE: "The Wire" - 03/01/94 - ACT ONE 13. 19 CONTINUED: (2) KIRA When you get to the wormhole, you should see them grow into shape- shifters. And you'd be right... because their arms are like that... closer than you can get. They grip off your arm. Bad dreams. DAX I thought you weren't going to talk about me. KIRA I told myself I was not. But when the time comes... I want to figure out what we're doing and what we are. I always figure it out. Dax looks at her own hands. Kira's too fast for her good measure. KIRA I'm holding all the cards. I'm playing them all. I'm a prisoner in here. I can't be happier. DAX You seem like you've got a lot. KIRA You have me all. Kira takes one last look at her hands. Kira can't help her enthusiasm. Her hand. Kira takes another step toward the desk. KIRA You're not going to hurt me. DAX You're not. And that's a good thing.

This is from a later batch where I stripped out some of the very repetitive content in the scripts before training — mostly headers and footers that repeat the exact same information every page. Another sample that was weirdly hands and arms themed:

42 INT. ENGINEERING Geordi and Data at their respective consoles. GEORDI We're ready when you are, Data. DATA I will prepare enough data for your desire, Commander. GEORDI Good. Data, what was the vessel in which the shuttle was launched? DATA The vessel was slightly more complex than the starship I estimate, sir. It chose a specific set of coordinates to target the specific nodes on the Enterprise-D. GEORDI And it didn't work. That's your fault, Data. DATA I fault is very fault, sir. I should have realized that. GEORDI If you had, the Enterprise-C could have taken out a few more nodes... DATA I do not believe we could have survived the attempt on the shuttle, sir. STAR TREK: "The Loss" - REV. 10/10/90 - ACT FOUR 51. 42 CONTINUED: GEORDI I know Data, it would have been difficult for you to break into hands and legs and grab a few nodes... I've never run into a shuttle in my life that didn't get that lucky. Geordi looks down at his hands and arms, frowning. GEORDI What are you so angry about? DATA My heart... and possibly my entire psychology. GEORDI That's not good. DATA I am angry that Starfleet has let you down, Commander. GEORDI I know... but I was relieved that no one tried to destroy my shuttle.

INT. DATA'S QUARTERS Data, still in his Starfleet uniform, is sitting at a desk working at the computer. The door CHIMES. DATA Enter. The door OPENS and Geordi ENTERS. GEORDI Data, what are you doing here? DATA (stands) This is my quarters. He looks at the desk for a beat, then EXITS. DATA (continuing) You are here to examine my computer. GEORDI Computer, is there anything I can do about your... computer? DATA Computer, are you aware of what I have just said? GEORDI (nods) In case you're wondering... I've told you something before... DATA I have never spoken to my computer before. GEORDI That can't possibly be the case... Data shakes his head. DATA I have been trying, but I have been unable. GEORDI Why? DATA I have been trying for over three, four nights. GEORDI It must be a pretty long night. DATA As long as it is not. GEORDI And what does it feel like? DATA I have been experiencing a sustained, transient, and unsteady increase in the emotional neurotransmitter-like activity in my cerebral cortex. The same as if I were completely offered a cup of tea, or a coffee, or an air horn. GEORDI That sounds like someone who has been through a lot. Data nods.

I experimented with mixing other TV show scripts, the complete set of Frasier in this case. GPT-2 learns very quickly never to mix characters and language from the shows — too well, I wish it would mix them! But I swear the samples trained with some Frasier feel more like a sitcom:

ANGLE ON MAIN VIEWER (OPTICAL)

ANGLE ON MAIN VIEWER (OPTICAL) Riker's face... RIKER Captain, I am detecting a Class-M planet with high radiation unaffected by the sun. PICARD Which planet did you detect? RIKER Class-M. (beat) I'm sure it looked like a Class- M planet... (beat) What is it? PICARD A small planet with low surface radiation. RIKER (laughs) Not class-M.

Here’s another one that feels more like a sitcom, in particular, the repeated dialog lines are something I see a lot in the post-Frasier samples.

======== SAMPLE 15 ======== KIRA (to Dax, explaining) Dax, we were just talking about you. I realize you're upset about me, but I've always looked good in a tuxedo. DAX I don't look good in a tuxedo. I've always looked good in a clutch, Benjamin. And I'm glad to say, I haven't seen you since I left the homeworld. KIRA (smiles) I know you're upset, but I've always looked good in a chiffo uniform. DAX And I'm glad to see you've never worn it anymore. KIRA I've never looked good in a chiffo uniform. DAX Well, I've seen you look good in it all... when you're wearing anyone else's tux. KIRA (smiles) I never look good in a chiffo uniform. DAX (smiles) I'm glad you said you were going to be happy at the Bajoran wedding. KIRA (smiles) I'm glad you said that. Dax smiles and they walk off. DAX (re: the wedding) I suppose I'll have to mention it to someone. KIRA I'm not planning to. DAX Who's next? KIRA My husband. (a beat) I guess he'll be staying with us this year. DAX He'll probably be staying with us this year. KIRA I know. I just got here last night. DAX I mean it's just a question of... who? KIRA (beat) I'm still not sure. I've got a surprise planned for the next few weeks. Besides, it sounds like somebody's going to need a place to keep me warm. DAX I'm sure they will. KIRA I'm sure they will. DAX Now what about you... are you sure you don't want to stay with me for a while? KIRA (re: the wedding) I have a job to do... I'm a pretty gal... DAX (reacts) I hear you're married... KIRA That's right. DAX And what about Jake? KIRA He's leaving Starfleet. DAX A few weeks ago he was sent back to the Institute. KIRA (reacts) He's gone? DAX He's been living on the station all his life... KIRA (beat) ======== SAMPLE 16 ========

This sample is as long as you can get right now the limit on the output is about 1000 words in the tiny version of GPT-2 that OpenAI let’s us play with. It would still be possible to create an entire script by taking the output from one sample and using it a ‘prompt’ to generate the next sample, over and over until you have a complete script. Since the scripts do clear structure like page and act numbers it should eventually get to ACT 5 or stick an ending on there. Maybe a project for the future.

#gpt-2 #tng #text generator

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