#call your mother a fool? The mother who fought with her soul mate for you?

[fanfictionroxs]

Not Aemond joining Otto in the homophobe camp. I hope Alicent feeds him to Meemaw Vhagar for the DISRESPECT

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP Meme from "Chapter One: Caliah (Lore)" in the Bastet breedbook from "Werewolf: The Apocalypse"

Once there was a cat who dreamed he was a man.

Like the morning mist, she appeared from nowhere, or so it seemed.

The winds have spoken of your dilemma and I have come to show you the way home.

Why do you call me brother?

We are family.

We have different parents but share the same blood.

You need to meet your people

You are my sister

I have no other family. Don’t leave me!

We all have family

What are the dreams of a cat?

Let us welcome each other and speak of hidden things.

If they come in peace, we welcome them.

I’m just a mutt.

Listen up and listen close, ‘cause this isn’t stuff you’ll hear from any old place.

I’ve got friends with friends, if y’know what I mean, and this is good stuff.

They don’t get along, y’know.

A good lorespeaker tells different stories every time, and she makes ‘em as cool as possible.

Sound like anyone we know? Nah! Couldn’t be!

So how do you trade secrets, anyway? After all, isn’t a secret shared a secret lost?

If you don’t play the game, you don’t learn a thing.

Each element of the message becomes a metaphor, and the message becomes a story.

Florid? Hell yeah! But ya gotta admit it’s more graceful — and exposes a hell of a lot less — than blurting out the truth.

You might say, “I heard a story about so-and-so” but you’d never say “I did so-and-so.” If your audience has a clue, they’ll catch on.

Everything’s told in metaphors.

A good obtuse metaphor makes you look imaginative if someone gets it, really stupid otherwise.

Everything is larger than life. People don’t just cry, they “explode in showers like the sea.” Folks don’t just get mad, they “turn into coals that burn through the floor.”

If what you’re saying is important, bigger is better.

Simple? Not if you don’t get the lingo.

A wounded cat can surrender without disgrace.

Not enough to go around.

Hey, don’t let on you know what I told you, huh?

It was a time before life, a longing when the dream of birth was yet to be.

This marked the end of peace and the beginning of struggle.

Such promises are soon broken.

Why does even the skin of my daughter flee from my hands?

Why must I always be alone?

Master, what would you have of us?

Nothing exists for him but annihilation.

Go across the world

Let that which is pure stand whole, but erode that which is impure from within.

He tells many tales, but all of them are lies. He is rage made manifest, and he coils within us all.

There was no want, no war, no anguish, and all living things gave of themselves to help others exist.

Until some cataclysm happened, everything lived in peace and plenty.

Life has ever been a struggle, my brothers and sisters. Life has always meant that some may die for others’ pleasure.

That pleasure may be as necessary as hunger or as frivolous as sport, but it has always been fatal and always will be.

Only through struggle can we progress.

Only through sacrifice can we succeed.

We were born from conflict and we grow through adversity. Our ancestors are predators, great cats and human hunters who rose above their surroundings and mastered them.

We know our place in the Great Order, and it is not passive.

Like the moon, our world waxes and wanes.

Each era glows brightly, then fades into night before rising again as some new age.

As creatures of light, dark and twilight all, we are not moved much by the vagaries of fortune.

Each tribe has its creation story, and they differ in many ways.

I have my own ideas.

We are a breed eternally apart, and we are rare.

Water runs silent, yet crushes with the power of an elephant.

Its depths hold secrets that only the brave can find.

The first of our kind were nearly the last.

Those it caught were devoured.

Let this be your legacy

My tears, shed for you, will boil in your veins.

All people will fear you, and all animals, too.

Begone and tend the flocks that need killing.

I banish you from sight!

They still live on in us, and we carry their curse to this day.

As the humans prospered, they grew quickly out of hand.

It was a bloody, useless time, and we fractured as a people.

Secrets became the only thing to bind us.

It’s hard to forgive these raging bastards.

Very territorial, and I know how that feels.

There are enough horrors in the night already.

Corruption has a million voices; sometimes they drown out the song of the moon and lead us over cliffs.

That song wails from nightclubs, boom boxes and televisions every day.

Stop up your ears, my friend and listen to the wind.

Those secrets led the wolves to our door — literally.

Gods damn the dogs for that!

Their misbegotten crusade killed hundreds of our Kind and Kin.

She mated with serpents, wolves and great cats in an effort to become like them, but gave birth to monsters instead.

Some legends portray her as one of our kind, but we know this isn’t so.

If the tales I’ve heard are any measure, they have no pity for us at all.

We are where we are born.

I think our unique insights show us that humanity is a mixed blessing — especially where the earth and the wild are concerned.

Men are the cleverest monkeys, no doubt, but they don’t have much sense of self-preservation.

Our forebears fought to let humanity prosper.

We have an amazing world at our fingertips, but it’s filled with poisons and lies.

Honor seems to be a fading dream in lands where the rich starve their people and the poor kill each other.

We hold magic within ourselves, within our hearts and minds and spirits. To dishonor ourselves is to disperse that magic and scatter our souls.

It’s acceptable to lie to other creatures; they’re not of our blood and not bound by our laws.

We will flee to survive a fight, but will not run when others depend on our strength.

We must make restitution to those we deceive, in deeds, trade or money.

We may be exiled or branded.

Our weapons are many — secrets, claws, teeth and allies — and we will not hesitate to employ them for our world’s

survival.

Our people have walked too close to extinction for us to take such matters lightly.

We will not ally ourselves with shadow powers or drink corrupted wisdom.

We do not fail our Earth and mother. That path leads to death.

We are the keepers of secrets, and our fates depend on silence.

Each of us bears the hidden doom of our own people, and we know the cost of betraying that trust.

We also know that we have what others want — or what they think they want — and it amuses us to make them squirm.

Our knowledge is our concern.

We will not share it unless we wish to.

We will hide ourselves from outsiders; they will think they know us, but we will delude them.

We will wrap our lore in riddles and tales; let the clever ones puzzle out their meaning.

We will act as if we know even more than we do, for it keeps outsiders guessing.

Let them wonder at our insight; they value us more highly when they do.

We will cover our tracks with misdirection, pretend to be other than what we are, fill the air with idle rumors and hide messages in code.

There is no forgiveness for this crime.

Well, let’s just say I know what I’ve seen. And I’ve seen a lot.

His eyes were so filled with pain that I decided to help out.

I’d swear he was grinning as the semi ran him down.

That felt good.

Guess they’ve gotta live here, too.

I say they’re not as smart as they might think.

Maybe I’m the one who’s being fooled.

I could tell you stories all night, all week, all month and more.

As the temples rose and the hordes crossed through, our parents sat on the sidelines of history and observed the passing of kings.

The cultures we witnessed shaped our own ways.

Cities rose, each with secrets too tempting to ignore.

For a long time — 4,000 years — there was all the room in the world for us, and no lack of secrets to keep us entertained.

We should have seen the signs in the Classical Age, when armies swept across the land in the names of gods, kings and conquerors.

We should have met en masse when trade and crusades brought East and West together.

I will not belabor the point. We know what happened.

Explorers, slavers and great white hunters bounded into the wilderness and cast a chain around our kind.

Suddenly, we went from having all space to having little.

I can’t say I don’t share the sentiment just a bit.

We didn’t stop until a greater evil forced us to align, but that’s another story.

It’s a wonder anyone survived.

We studied their secrets, but could learn nothing from them.

We have no one to blame but ourselves.

For all our vaunted sight, we’re blind. For all our gathered lore, we’re stupid.

The world is falling apart.

I don’t know whether to believe it or not, but we are living in interesting times!

We must pool our secrets, combine our efforts, and bring the world’s secrets to light.

We must act on what we discover and disperse what we learn.

Do I lose my cool?

The modern age is the greatest puzzle we could want endless streams of secrets, enigmas, wonders and dazzles, wrapped up in an explosive package that could blow us all to hell.

Anywhere, at any time, the whole ride could fly off the rails.

Those who ignore the warning feed the vultures the next morning.

I’ll simply say the tigers are not where you’d expect.

People have begun to open their eyes, but they still need your counsel to see the cliff’s edge before falling off

Those stories are true — violently true — and they add up to an appalling picture if you string them all together.

They get an idea, work on it a bit, and try to rule the world. Typical. We’ve seen their kind before.

Look around you if you doubt it.

Surely the secrets you’ve uncovered have given you the idea that maybe, just maybe, something’s going on, something bigger than another plunder, another invasion, another city that falls to ruin in a century.

Discover what you can, but bury your tracks well.

We’re strangers to each other for most of our lives, and we like it that way — a few careful gatherings are all we

can stand.

The moon is our patron, but the shadows are our father too, and they call to us at our weaker moments.

Most of us dance on the edge, though, and that’s where we like to be!

Despite our pains, we’re spirited and wild, inquisitive yet careful, sensual yet refined.

Our beauty is our greatest pride, and our wits are second to none.

We know what we are.

To hell with them all!

Still, we cannot let pride blind us to the facts.

The morning it foretells is up to us.

We must come together, yet retain our pride.

We are the keepers of secrets.

Perhaps it’s time those secrets were revealed.

[mrsunderhill678]

Oh, shit... Did I write something? Woops, those demons, eh? Always possessing your fingies and making you write.

“I ain't a sinner, ain't a saint, just the result 'a my brother's choice wrapped up in barbed wire and regretful survival, and I wondah, if 'e saw me 'gain, would 'e call me Lazarus? 'E put me down and spected me ta stay, but I ain't da kinda man dat dies so easy.” - Anthony Burningsky

“Lacin' a lie with sugar is da only way ta convince a man ta consume it, mate.” - Anthony Burningsky

“We're all scars, memories and graves, wonderin' a wasteland 'a sin. And I'v found, dat redemption is a small price ta pay when you're wookin' at eternal damnation.” - Anthony Burningsky

“I can't be the only one with a loaded gun, certainties and doubts in every chamber. All I can do is spin the chamber and pray I find certainty and stable ground, but only bullets of doubt and misery pierce my skull and bleed my mind.” - Pryella Burningham

 “I'm looking for the map to hope, cause I heard it's a journey, but here I am, fucking lost. In me, in doubt and everything in between, because I fear that with a family tree this sinful, I'm bound to become the very thing that scares me the most. My father.” - Pryella Burningham

“I fear the forest, yet I hide in it's shade, playing my game of Russian Roulette all on my lonesome. The ground shakes beneath me, as if it wishes to swallow me whole. And perhaps, when the dirt brings me into it's maw, and the grass waves above me, and I stand with no tomorrow, no yesterday and no today, is when I'll be at peace. Because with these memories? With these hauntings of my father's yellow smile? I fear death is my only release, and perhaps Russian Roulette with a fully loaded gun is the only form of rest I'll ever receive.” - Pryella Burningham

“I have reason, the world has madness, but perhaps that is only my perception of it, slaying he who is mad only giving myself madness in return. If you have reason to your madness you're still mad, after all.” - Weston Sardisco

“This is a war of a different kind, and all I require is a six shooter followed by my wit.” - Weston Sardisco

 “I'll lay my hand on the bible and say a prayer for all who lost themselves in the brutality of this world, because I, intend to find them. For I care not who you were, only who you are, and if you see me on the horizon, please, remember, do not bring up your rights, in the midst of all your wrongs. Because one hundred twenty two rights does not make a life time of wrongs, holy.” - Weston Sardisco

“You will sooner find the dirt than my forgiveness, tired sinner.” - Weston Sardisco

“I am a creature of the night, drunk on the light of the moon, dancing under it's harsh glow with the blood of the fallen spilling crimson at my feet.” - Valentin Ogarzia

“Tell me, do you fear the howl or the wolf? The man or the blade? The gun, or the bullet? Or shall you simply fear all? Because I, am a devil, dressed in robes of false silken intentions, but you don't fear the crimson on these robes, for you simply believe them to be threaded embroidery and design.” - Valentin Ogarzia

“I have romanticized the art of murder, and you should fear the man who's built a masterpiece of scarred corpses and slashed throats.” - Valentin Ogarzia

“Beg and plead, wail and confess, every road ends with me. Every life ends with me. I am a moon drunk creature, howling under the blanket of shade and stars, and you should learn, that to fear me, my friend, is a choice, but to die, is not.” - Valentin Ogarzia

“I was born in the shadows of the pine, with the world’s darkness in my mind, wondering how oh how can a man stray from his family tree, when all he could ever do is crawl? But all I did was fall into my own shadow.” - Faustina Cordoba

“If the light from the sun had a choice, it wouldn't shine upon me.” - Faustina Cordoba

“I realized I had to say goodbye to who I was, because that isn’t who I am. Farewell, young man, dapper child, you fought so bravely, but I’ll take the battles from here on out. It's tiring, being who you're not, because you're always actin', and the mask is heavy, cripplin'. So farewell to every past version of myself, you did the best you could, and I'll bleed out for you, if only ta achieve the dreams we've held so dearly but hidden for so long.” - Kadel Smith

“I've spent my life battlin' myself, and though it wasn't 'a war 'a the trenches, or bullets cuttin' the air, it was a war 'a the skin, 'a the mind. As my old pal Duke would say, "It's a daunting task, wrestlin' with oneself," and I suppose I would know the feelin. Cause that's all I's ever done.” - Kadel Smith

“If life is a war, then I've been hit by a dozen bullets, but I'll continue to walk the path with this blood in my lungs and soul, cause though I've spent so long in this world's ugliness, I can still find the beauty all around me. Like the twilight fallin' of snow whilst you're sat with an old friend on two rusted pairs 'a swings. I can find beauty in that, in life, and most importantly, in me.” - Kadel Smith

“To the world, I am cannon fodder, I suppose my purpose is to continue to drop in sprays of red and sorrow, if only for the powerful to charge in leaps and bounds, clapping for all they’ve won, and all we’ve lost. To the powerful, the rich, the world is their home and I'm just an uninvited guest, suppose in a world that doesn't care for the weak, I'll always be God damn trespassing.” - Gabriella Vaxwington

“When I come for you, with my glock, my rage and my mother's eyes, you will see all the fury she hid, you will watch the sky fall and heaven's gates shake like thunder. Cause brother, my mother's up there, with her wings and her pain, and when your blood spills on the dirt, the angels will fuckin' sing, cause my ma weren't meant ta join their ranks by your hand. But you? You're meant to join the devil, by MY, hands, and that, is fate. Or 'ow did you put it? Karma always pays her dues, and I suppose that makes me, karma.” - Gabriella Vaxwington

“Execution, the act of killing a man for a damning transgression, sometimes it takes a guillotine, or a bullet point blank range, but usually, all it takes is a single word.” - Beautler De Niro

“You can get any barking dog to bite if you threaten it's existence or the life of another, and any man in anonymity will commit the egregious deeds they'd never dream of while under the spotlight. All you have to do to put a man under your control is to put him in the dark, take a dog's feeding bowl and he'll bite anyone for a morsel, all but the hand that feeds him.” - Beautler De Niro 

“You give a man half truth and he'll dive through hell to find the other half, even if it means he must burn.” - Beautler De Niro

“I am an untrustworthy man, but anyone will trust a man with a firm handshake and the same opinion as they. Trust is so easy to gain in a world of fools and cheats.” - Beautler De Niro

“All who stand up to me, fall, because they trust too easy and crumble upon the truth revealing who the villain was all along. But I propose to them a single question, if it was you who trusted the man who undid you, then who's hands was it dropping the guillotine's rope? Him, or your falsely placed trust?” - Beautler De Niro

“I do not enjoy the fight nor the battle, and though I end up victorious, it brings grief to he who loses. I would rather not fight, I would much rather offer a helping hand, but life tells me not to. It shoves a rifle in my hand and says, "By God, Bertil, by God, pull the trigger and spare yourself a moment of grief!" But I never can, not when my bullets indirectly harm those I never aimed for.” - Bertil O’Day

“To a paranoid man, every word spoken is a crime against God, and every dead end is a cliff-side. Some men pray, other's drink, me? I sit here, in my little corner 'a nowhere, and I leave well enough alone.” - Theodore Holymann 

“How terrible, to ruin someone's life with your memory.” - Theodore Holymann

“I'm guilty, with cuffs round my wrists and a rope 'round my throat, so oh gravedigger, pull the lever and watch me swing, cause I'm sure as all the air leaves my lungs the last thing I'll hear is a melody 'a cheers for the damned preacher.” - Theodore Holymann

“I'm paranoid, terrified that my past'll catch up to me God damn swingin. And maybe these days, I'd take the hit and drop.” - Theodore Holymann

“Oh heavenly father above, give me salvation or death, either way I rest.” - Theodore Holymann

“Someone took a dagger to this silk heart of mine, and I guess I'm nothing but a torn curtain, these days, only small rays of light passing through me.” Alice Sharenburg

“Who would've imagined, with our Halloween masks and toy guns, that we'd be marching into war? How could it have been, that in all our childhood wonder, we found darkness?” - Alice Sharenburg

“Draw the curtains, kill the fucking lights and let us bow to the crowd. Throw your roses and cheer for the lost boys and girls, but in the end, as the story wraps up in tragedy, just remember.... When the curtains draw, and the lights dim... That's all, folks.” - Alice Sharenburg

“I stand sturdy, smelling of ash and smoke, but zis is no after affect of var. I vas destroyed by no fire of war, but a fire of ze heart, a fire wrought with passion and love. I allowed it to consume me, to burn my whole state of being and make me anew.” - Gregory Kizerfretzen

“Vhen it scares jou to jour very core, and jou feel it in jour heart, zat's vhen you know it's real. Because as long as you haz love, and as long as you haz family, blood, or no blood, var can nezah vin.” - Gregory Kizerfretzen

“Oh fazah, I know I followed ze path jou would never want for me, but I followed in jour blood-stained footprints, and I learned ze same lesson jou did. Ve are all human, even if we stand on ze opposing side.: - Gregory Kizerfretzen

“Someone once told me, that when your demons are silent, listen for your angels. But what do ya do when all ya hear is radio static and your sins echoed in the buzz?” - Octavio Claytor

“I held onto my faith, but I guess I got butterfingers, cause my faith, my sense of self and my love tumbled from my fingers like ash and cinders.” - Octavio Claytor

“God ain't dead, he just damn well ain't here.” - Octavio Claytor

“Only the dead know a glory greater than the gods.” - Alistair Von Alisworth

“A king will always find himself crushed under the weight of his decisions unless he has blood black enough to make them.” - Alistair Von Alisworth

“Stand up to me, try to steal this crown reigning over my head, but all you'll ever find is that the crown was never intended for good men. The crown is for those who can handle it, the crown is for those who will enjoy the lives ended to earn it. I am death, and for all those who rise up, I am here to deliver.” - Alistair Von Alisworth

“Perhaps every church is Eden, there's bound to be shade somewhere between the flowers.” - Alders Holymann

“My heart's been capsized, and it ain't rowing to shore these days. I pray, and I pray for a rowboat, but all God ever gives me is a single broken paddle. What am I to do when all the signs lead to death?” - Alders Holymann

“God, please forgive me for doubting you, I pray and I pray, but the only answer I get are my own thoughts. Is that all a prophet ever hears? I say amen, I say grace, but all I hear is the emptiness in my heart. I fear I never heard God, it was only ever me.” - Alders Holymann

“I wear this cross around my neck and it's become a rope, stealing all my air.” - Alders Holymann

“My lord, my loving father above, I ask one question. Is it better to be crushed under the weight of your trembling faith, or to go forth with no faith at all?” - Alders Holymann

“Rev this motorcycle, and send me spiralin' down the damn highway, cause if I'm meant ta crash, so fuckin' be it. Give me a grave by the road, give me a wreath and a name etched onta wood, so long as I'm underneath the dirt, hearin' the engines roar and the traffic stand still. Cause brother, my whole life's been on the road, 'spose ta me, the revvin' 'a the engine and the screech 'a the wheels is a symphony. My own broke symphony 'a burnin' track and dead ends.” - Alessandro Bones

 “I live life on repeat these days, the same mile, day in, day out. And once I close my eyes, I put my engine in reverse, and wake up at the beginnin' 'a the damn highway, preparin' to rev my engines for a single mile, yet again. I don't trust myself ta go a mile further, I'd have ta face myself, and with all that anger and regret, I'd fear he'd gun me right the fuck down. I deserve it, anyway. But I ain't never had the courage to go careenin' off the side 'a this road. Don't got the courage to die burnin', prayin' ta every God. All I want, is ta die quiet in the night, empty bottle in my hand, nuthin' but a mess 'a blankets and sheets on the damn bed.” - Allesandro Bones

 “I am lost, travelin' the same mile, again, and a God damn gain, cuz it's the only path I can take without resistance. And I fear resistance, cause that means a fight, and that's all I's ever done. Give me no more riots 'a the self, give me no more wars 'a the road, give me peace, or give me death.” - Allesandro Bones

“I've always told myself I was Rumpelstiltskin, spinning hay into gold, but alas, alas, the old crone has fooled himself, and he only spins hay into more hay while Rumpelstiltskin dances and laughs, holding in his arms the old crone once had.” - Peragrin Hufflesburg

 “We've only ever fooled ourselves, it's funny how other's can catch our lies but we can never catch the ones we tell ourselves.” - Peragrin Hufflesburg

“If I had a dollar for every time I prayed and got an honest to God answer, I'd be begging on the fucking streets.” - Peragrin Hufflesburg

“I ask to be forgiven, but why? What would being forgiven do for those I have hurt? Would they look at me and say, "Oh, look at that changed man, his hay has turned to gold and his sin to faith!" Or would they simply pull the trigger?” - Peragrin Hufflesburg

“I sit here with my wheel, spinning all this hay, praying one day, I'll have a pile of gold. But all I ever do is drown in more God damn hay.” - Peragrin Hufflesburg

“We're stars shining in the night sky, lighting up the dark knowing we too, one day will end, we'll implode upon ourselves as stars do. But perhaps, it isn't the end of the journey that matters, but the miles we walk.” - Melinda Myers

“Life can be pain, it can be cruel, but there's strength to be found in that grief.” - Melinda Myers

“I've spent my life surrounded by love, my two sons are the light of my life, they're my stars in the night sky, and I know it's my job to watch over them. To implode before them. But perhaps I'll create a galaxy in my wake, and whenever they look to the sky, and see the stars and the beautiful silence of the night, they'll smile.” - Melinda Myers

“If he's a sinner for loving that man, then let me have a talk with God. Because if someone can look at a love that beautiful, and say, "God condemns you," then they need to realize, they condemn them, God, does not.” - Melinda Myers

“If ever I returned to those I love they would call me changeling, fearing that the fairies had stolen me away in the night and swapped me with an eldritch beast that knew only the vileness of nature. But oh, can't you see? I'm crawling, ever crawling, with broken fingers and battered knees, scraping against the bloodied flowers and roses of all I'll ever be.” - Richard Notorangelo 

 “Legends are realities we forgot, often twisted by those in power so the common folk fear what was never real. Does that make me a myth? Or another victim of it?” - Richard Notorangelo

 “I met evil when I was only a child, and oh, how I wish it hadn't been me.” - Richard Notorangelo

“My daughter, oh my beautiful little girl, if ever I crawl my way out of this garden, this maze of my own lies, throw me back in. For it's what I deserve. Shout at me, throw me to the fairies from whence I came, for I fear I am a changeling, a twisted shadow of myself, vile and cruel, sick and diseased.” - Richard Notorangelo

“I do not deserve death, for that is peace. With all this blood on my hands and these wicked deeds in my memory, I imagine, the single thing I deserve, is life.” - Richard Notorangelo

 “In the end we're all by ourselves, no one follows us into the dark, not even our shadow dares.” - Tricia Jenefine

“I can't remember the intricacies of her smile, the melody of her laugh, or the beat of her heart when I laid my head on her chest. I was hers' and she was mine. Not only do I miss her, I miss the parts of myself that left with her. My heart is a wisp without her, she was supposed to be my eternity, but now life is a curse, without her.” - Tricia Jenefine

“I could have a roof over my head and the rain would still find a way in.” - Tricia Jenefine 

“The only pieces of me that remain are the parts that remember her, and the parts that remember pain.” - Tricia Jenefine

“When the sun forgets to shine on you, and your shadow slinks back to it's kin, all you have is yourself and the memories that once brought smiles, but will only ever bring tears.” - Tricia Jenefine

“I'm the damsel, the dragon and the knight, and some day, I'll burn myself to cinders.” - Priscilla Sage

“I am a witch on the stake and the farmer with a torch, perhaps I too, am the flame. Of hatred, of grief, of pain, no matter what I am made of I still end only in ashes.” - Priscilla Sage

“Perhaps one day, I'll be free of myself, perhaps one day I shall be the raven, soaring through the air, singing my own happy song. And though no one but the sun shall hear me, perhaps she'll smile down at me. If only I could feel the wind rush past me as I leave everything behind. Oh how I would love to be free. But I am a cage, and what can I do when I don't have the key?” - Priscilla Sage

“I am rottin' bark and fallin' leaves, I flutter ta the soil as if it weren't my demise, and oh how I wonder why it is, always am I crushed 'neath the damn boot.” - Levina Rainbolt

“We're all guilty in some way, that's life. We lie, we cheat and we steal, but we love a helluva lot better than we hate.” - Levina Rainbolt

“Perhaps I am rottin' bark and fallin' leaves, perhaps I've been crushed under the boot more times than I can count. But I've found, that whenever I fall ta the soil, someone I love picks me up, and puts me in their favorite story book. Perhaps it ain't bout how many times ya fall, maybe it's bout who picks ya back up everytime.” - Levina Rainbolt

“I will stand at the edge of my doom and leap. From these heights I shall fall until it is my demise I receive, because it's all I deserve.” - Albus Kirk

“I am wrapped and bound in silken secrets and forbidden treasures, speaking from the tongue of a mad man, for only a mad man hides secrets from himself.” - Albus Kirk

“I could compare myself to a beast, I could give you metaphors, I could give you lies. But at the end of the day, I'm human and mad, it's what makes me so ugly and twisted, I suppose.” - Albus Kirk

“My father always told me I was meant for great things, I would build fortunes but all I built was my own misfortune.” - Albus Kirk

“We're trapped in Pandora's box, and perhaps, we're the horror they wish to keep at bay. We're a plague, an illness, but we poison ourselves. This world we live in is quite simply put, Pandora's box, harboring the horror and shade others wish not to deal with. We are the price of tranquility for others, our suffering is the price they paid to forever live in peace. We are the soldiers, we are the sheep walking to the butcher, we are the testing subjects and the victim. We are a price, meant only to be paid. So what can we ever do, but stand at the edge of our doom and leap?” - Albus Kirk

“I am the one who pulls the trigger, the one who knocks on your door and gives you only the gift of death. Peace is a double edged blade, my friend, for with true peace, comes death. And I am simply here to give you, true peace.” - Palazzo Bullet

“Most men live and die in a single day, they stay stagnant, they're a grave before they've ever stopped walking.” - Palazzo Bullet

“You should fear the man dressed in black, who has your grave freshly dug, gun in one hand, bible in the other.” - Palazzo Bullet

“Look up to the sky one last time as the dirt covers you. Pray to the fucking stars. All they'll do is continue to shine, because the world never needed you. Watch from heaven as the sun rises, without you, and watch as it sinks. Because you, aren't important, and the world simply goes on, without you.” - Palazzo Bullet

“So dance, my marionette, twist and spin, avoiding the bullets coming your way. Stay focused on the threat at hand, only to realize you weren't saving your life. You were saving it for me.” - Palazzo Bullet

“You can never stain the river crimson, the stream always runs itself clear. Life goes on, it always does, the sun sinks, the moon rises, but we still have light.” - Jameth Waterbrood

“War does not bring peace, it brings pain. A battle does not make heroes, it makes survivors. The only true thing that can bring peace, is love.” - Jameth Waterbrood

“I intend to live life as if I was meant to, because perhaps, our destiny was never grand, maybe our destiny was never war, or some higher purpose. Perhaps, our destiny was always to simply live, love, and be loved. Because that, no matter what way you put it, is a destiny worth fighting for, a destiny worth laughing for, and a destiny worth living for.�� - Jameth Waterbrood

“You can think yourself high and mighty, king 'a the hill and master 'a the crop, but there's always a man willin' ta take you down. Cause there ain't nuthin' mightier than the man who watches the crown tumble from the head of the king but doesn't take the throne. The strongest message 'a all is ta kill a man, and give no reason.” - Justice Hansell

“You, my friend, are the cigarette, I'll crush you under my boot once you've lost my interest. The echoes of wolves echo in my heart, their howls ricochet in my ribcage, I am a beast by heart, and you should fear the man standin' at his own grave. Cause he don't fear death. Which means he don't fuckin' fear you.” - Justice Hansell

“My threats are promises I keep, and I fear if you try ta snag this crown from my head, all you'll find is one 'a my promises ripped inta fruition.” - Justice Hansell

“You can't swim 'gainst my tide, you will drown far before you ever reach the source 'a your damn misery.” - Justice Hansell

“I just want the rights of my corpse, to be free, to be still, to be me, to be me, to be me. But all I've learned, is that a millions scars makes me the man I'm not.” - Rin Otishiro

“My father always said hard work always pays off, good friends never grow old, and good always prosper, and oh how I wish that was true. Because my hard work has led to pain, every good friend I had is a corpse, and the good never prospered.” - Rin Otishiro

“The good ol' days vanish when the bad times come, how can I smile, when every good memory I had, is tainted with the tragic outcome that followed?” - Rin Otishiro

“Why the hell do we fear the dark when all the monsters stand in the light? They don't fucking hide anymore, man. They've come from the shadows and claimed the light.” - Rin Otishiro “I guess I've always lived just between the valley of death and the shadows of my past.” - Rin Otishiro

“You wanna know me? Walk a mile in my shoes, but don't you dare walk two, because you don't want to see what I've been through.” - Rin Otishiro

“The past exists to remind us that we’re not there anymore, we’re here, and that’s what matters.” - Renna Forbes

 “My aunt has always said, she doesn't pick favorites, and maybe that's because in love, there is no favorites. Love doesn't choose who it touches, it doesn't envy those who hold more of it. It just is. It always forgives and it doesn't remember wrongs. It just exists despite the overbearing weight.” - Renna Forbes

“Cut out my heart and serve it on a silver platter for all who wish to choke on its' darkness.” - Mortley Dekruiful

“One day you'll learn there are more miles of darkness than there are stars, just because there is light, does not mean the darkness has not won.” - Mortley Dekruiful

“I am a clown, the lion leaping through the ring of fire, fearing the burns he may receive on his pelt. I, am a man of the circus, a sinner at heart, and though we are all sinners, not many take it to a higher degree.” - Mortley Dekruiful

“I fear myself, no thoughts nor prayers could save me, for if they can't save those I've killed, why should they save me?” - Mortley Dekruiful

“If I were to serve my heart on a silver platter to myself, would I choke and sputter on the shade? Would I finally be able to swallow this darkness within?” - Mortley Dekruiful

“All I can ever do is crawl away from the spotlight whilst it burns my back, and pray that the shade will bring me what little refuge it can. At least it is less blinding, but alas, just as cruel.” - Mortley Dekruiful

“We are our own beasts, and we bow to no man.” - Bortley Dekruiful

"Maybe life is a series of consequences good and bad, or maybe I'm just blind to all the dark. I don't know. All I know, is that we're only human, and placing blame only gets fingers pointed in the wrong damn direction." - Jake Bonefire

"My silence has been a chamber for too long." - Jake Bonefire

"Gods above, witness my blood spill, hear my prayers, for if the afterlife, is a cell, I, am the key." - Starburden Vaganbrok

"All it takes is one bad day, and I intend to give you a year of them in a matter of hours." - Hugo Valritten 

 "They say life is whatever we make it, they pump their fists in the air and cry, "We are in control of our own destinies! We are our own fate!" But then they look men like me in the eye, they laugh in my face and they say, "Get off the tracks, boy. This is a revolution, and you're in our damn way." - Corvo Crinklewick "Da hares wage war against da dogs and ask why dey are losing." Brickylda Hildengarde

"Peace and death are not the same thing." - Gunhild Brokldottir "Ow am I ta be 'eard if my screams sink to da bottom 'a my silence?" - Archie Upperton

"I'm just the same, brother, just because I was a dream, damn well don't mean I can't be a nightmare." - Zafavri Holts

"This is my end, Madusius? I believe you mistook my beginning for my reckoning, my rebellion for my downfall. You're a tyrant, and I suppose I'm the snake that crumbles the Garden of Eden." - Dayvella Ma'Vayar 

“Get away with it? My boy, no one in history has ever gotten away with it! Jack the ripper's name is tarnished, Julius Caesar lies dead with a thousand knife wounds in his back! We're all doomed, creatures vying for a throne no one can ever have. I'm not here, to get away with it. I'm here, to go down in history.” -  Madusius Crudelis 

 "I shoot and stride for the throne, I am the king above kings, the man above God. I, in of myself, am a dynasty, both a relic and the future, an idea, that cannot be killed." - Madusius Crudelis

"You, can crush, my dynasty, but you can never, destroy the idea of it." - Madusius Crudelis

"You can run from your debts, my friend, but you cannot run from me." - Lorcan O'Venefrives

"Nothing good was ever done by force." - Mortley Dekruiful

"They say you are dead to me Rolf, you are dead. But I say, I am alive, I am alive! And isn't that what frightens you?" - Rolf Lambs

"I look inside me, and see a devil's dog, howlin' at the darkest side of his own moon." - Zafavri Holts "The sun ain't gonna rise for you buddy, you just watched it sink one last time only for you to fade along with it." - Eddy Lambs

"We're in the circus, dancing, jerking and twisting away from the spotlight because the shade was always more comforting than the blinding light." - Mortley Dekruiful

"You will face a thousand tragedies before the sun fucking rises, and you ain't lucky enough for your death ta be one of em." - Zafavri Holts

"I, am where myth starts, and legend begins, but you, my friend, are where history starts." - Defforest Van Patten

"Life will hang ya from a tree and call ya three heads taller simply cause your feet are three feet off the damn ground." - Sampson O'Connel "Soldiers? Soldiers?! We're the civilians of a foreign country hiding from the fucking gunfire! But they don't care, brother, they don't FUCKING care! They'll drag us out anyway. To a firing squad, everyone is cattle." - Burasbley Highersman

[seriouslyhooked]

Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 17)

22 part AU written for @cssns​. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy​!!

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to a future he is destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers, but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest). Rated M.

A/N: Hey all! I am so glad to be back after just a week away this time, especially because I really want to get you all this resolution. I would have loved to have this chapter and the last one be just one installment, but I hit like 10,000 words and still had more to say so it just wasn’t meant to be. I hope you’ll forgive me once you read this part though, and I am so excited to see what you all think! Also, just in case it isn’t clear, there are three distinct POVs in this chapter (Killian, Liam, and Emma). Thanks as always for reading and hope you enjoy!

Witnessing the form of any man be overcome by a monster was a soul rattling thing. It chilled the blood and froze the mind, paralyzing it with anxiety and fear. But to see one’s brother go through such a horrifying change was something else all together.

For a moment, Killian caved to that panic as he watched the way his brother’s eyes flashed a hellish black and how the tension in Liam’s limbs made the lines of his body horrible and gruesome. The snarl on his face shouldn’t have been possible. No expression should convey so much hate and malice, and the growl that emanated from Liam’s chest was simultaneously low and yet sharp and scratchy. It made Killian wince, as if Liam had scraped his claws down a chalkboard, but despite the survival instincts in Killian’s head that told him to run, he stayed strong. It only took a moment for him to collect himself, to remind his now skittish animal of all he had to fight for and how nothing, not even his worst nightmare made real, would deter him from that. Killian had to protect the people he loved, and more than anything he had to fight with all he had to see his mate and his true love protected for now and always.

In seconds Killian readied himself for battle, crouching low, with every intention of shifting. His wolf was nearly at the forefront of his mind, his body just a hair away from transforming, but just before he did the monster in front of him went from totally controlling his brother to essentially disappearing. Liam physically stumbled, his body bending over as he shook his head with tremendous force, and when he looked up again his real eyes stared back at Killian, the deep darkness from before now gone. Liam was nearly normal again, though clearly had used a large amount of energy to fight back. But how? And more importantly, why?

“It’s like I said, before. The monster remains. There’s no shaking it.”

“But you’re trying to fight it,” Killian acknowledged and Liam nodded.

“Yes. I have tried everything I can to suppress it since that night. The night you spared me.”

“I might not know many details about what happened to you after our fight, brother, but I do know you stayed with the pack,” Killian bit out, his own resentment at that not hidden in the slightest. He’d thought it was a terrible idea then, and he still believed it to be so now. He had no idea how Liam would have ever rectified the want to suppress his inner demon with staying in that toxic place they once called home.  “So it doesn’t add up. You fought darkness, but lingered in it too.”

“That night…” Liam paused for a moment as he tried to find the words for how everything had gone down. “That night I was unhinged and unwell, but I wasn’t fully gone, not like you thought I was. That instinct to stay with the pack – it wasn’t all the bite talking. That had always been my plan, since the moment we set out to kill Brennan.”

“You never told me that,” Killian said, not believing it even if part of him wondered if it could be true. Had Liam always wanted to return to the pack? Maybe, but the thought, even in hindsight, was so abhorrent to Killian he couldn’t fully comprehend it.

“Of course I didn’t. You never would have supported that idea. You were of one mind. All you could focus on was finding justice for Mum, and I knew there would be no discussion on the subject. I had hoped after everything was done that maybe you’d see. Maybe killing our father would free you from all your hatred of the past. Maybe you’d feel as I did, that our life back there was more than evil and power and greed. There was still good in where we came from. It just had to be nurtured and fought for.”

“Sounds like bullshit,” Tink said, her words reminding both brothers that she was still here, something Killian had already forgotten.

“It’s true,” Liam reaffirmed, his aggravation growing, but his eyes remained a steady cerulean as he looked at Tink. “I always planned to rid the ugliness from our past, and from our family.”

“Oh sure, that’s possible,” Tink said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “Hell, I’d say it’s even likely, seeing as you’re related to Killian, who does everything he can to be a good guy. But that bite should have changed everything. If you really wanted to make things better, you should have known you weren’t the man to do it. You were compromised, and you clearly still are.”

“I did know I wasn’t the one to truly make things right,” Liam confessed. “And despite knowing I still tried anyway because I was selfish. I fooled myself into thinking I would be okay. When Killian left, the beast inside me calmed a hell of a lot. He never truly went away, but he was quieter, less agitated. I hovered above the monster, and I did what needed doing. I got rid of the old guard, all of the pack who supported Brennan -,”

“They all supported him, Liam. Every last one of them,” Killian spat out and Liam shook his head.

“No, not all of them. They didn’t support him; they endured him. The fear we felt wasn’t ours alone to shoulder. There were many others stuck in the same torturous cycles, hoping for escape without finding it. Mothers scared for their cubs, fathers who knew that defecting from the pack would put a mark on them and their families forever. Brennan was ruthless and he hated nothing more than disloyalty. Everyone was trapped, and just because they all didn’t show the bravery of our mother doesn’t mean they all deserved to be condemned.”

Killian remained quiet. He knew that at some level Liam was right. The cubs were absolutely without guilt, for none of them could choose the pack they were born to or the rules of their clan. And yes, Killian remembered that there was fear beyond his own little world. People got quiet around his father, and the women especially made sure never to linger too long in his presence. It was always a place filled with whispers and walking on eggshells. Still, Killian knew that even if the bite hadn’t come between them he never would have stayed. Some might say Killian wasn’t strong enough to face the past. They might think he lacked honor for not going and rebuilding what was broken, but Killian didn’t see it as his duty to fix what his father had created. He wanted no part of Brennan’s legacy, and if he’d been forced to face it he’d have disbanded the clan and told every single member that they’d be better off starting over somewhere without all the baggage and heartbreak.

“I know you think the pack should have dissolved, and there’s merit to that thinking, but what you failed to see was that as much pain as the pack brought, the pack was also family. For better or worse, it was all most of them ever knew, and breaking that bond is painful. It’s like leaving a part of yourself behind forever. You never felt that when we were kids, but I did, and I knew how much it hurt and how badly I wished it never happened. I didn’t want to take anything more from anyone, so I tried to heal the hurts instead.”

“And how did that work?” Killian asked skeptically.

“It was slow going, but there was steady progress. A few years in and we’d discharged all of the remaining dissenters. Brennan’s core backers were gone, and the members that remained began to believe that more might be possible for the first time in a long time. We set new rules, we cleansed the laws of the pack, and we started to build something everyone could be proud of.”

“Sounds like a fairy tale,” Tink joked and Liam winced.

“Hardly. Much as I tried to deny it, I was still sick. I could play at being healed all I wanted, hell I even fooled myself into thinking I was still on solid ground. I told no one I was infected, and I lived for a long time like nothing was wrong. But it wasn’t that simple. I might have been caging my animal, but I was still feeding it every day. I made all of them rely on me. I amassed substantial power as alpha, both within our pack and outside it, even if it wasn’t through fear as Brennan had. I was in total command and that soothed the beast which lusted for control, but all it took was one moment to show me how wrong I was in thinking that I could ever overcome this.”

“What happened?”

“What always happens in pack life: an outsider came and challenged me, thinking he stood a chance to take what I’d,” Liam stalled, shaking his head and changing his wording purposefully. “What we had been building.”

“That’s not so unusual,” Tink said, though her nose scrunched up slightly in a show of disgust. “Well not for wolves anyway. You’re all so abrasive, that just comes with the territory.”

The joke fell flat though Killian knew in another situation he’d have laughed. Tink’s thoughts on other shifters were usually entertaining to him, but the look of regret in Liam’s eyes told Killian his brother’s dark deed had crossed a line. He could only imagine what that might have been like.

“A challenge is normal, yes, but there are customs now. We don’t fight to the death like the wolves of old. We fight until surrender or until one side can’t fight anymore. We aren’t supposed to see an attacker and think that the only way forward is draining the life from them.  We aren’t supposed to welcome that kind of fight while vehemently resenting anyone for trying to stake a claim. Our animal shouldn’t crave cruelty or demand death.”

“But yours did.”

“Aye. Looking back it’s like someone else’s memory, but that fight… hell it was worse than ours ever had the chance to be. I was ruthless. I’d won the match ten times over, but the bite had me taunting and tormenting my opponent. I wouldn’t just have killed him. This was torture. This was blood sport…” Liam said, his eyes haunted and his shame written clear as day on his face. “It took every member of the pack to get me back from the depths of my demons, and even then they couldn’t fully stop me. I was possessed, consumed with this evil need. I was seconds away from finally killing him, but the ruckus of the pack distracted me, enough that I saw my reflection in the creek. My eyes were worse than black…”

“They were shattered,” Killian said, knowing the way his father had looked when they fought him, and remembering how ungodly the sight was.

“They were on the edge, the fragments were forming. The last pieces of my soul were withering away far faster than I imagined, and only in seeing that could I find a way to stop. And the only way to stop was to leave, so I ran.”

“Wait, you left?” Killian asked, shocked that after everything Liam would have ever left the pack for any length of time.

“I had to. I was stricken with the wants of the sickness for days. I couldn’t shift back to human form, all I could do was run, trying to exhaust myself and keep myself from turning back and finishing the job. Finally I passed out from the lack of food and water and sleep, but even then, when the fog of it all lifted I knew I couldn’t return. I called my second in command, and I told him I was done. The beast in me was too much, and I had to save the little control I have left for something more important. I had to save it for you, Killian. I had to try and mend things between us the best I could after everything that’s happened. I’m only glad you’ve found your happiness when you did, so Ruby’s block could be lifted and I could get here in time. It’s been over a year and each day I searched in vain, knowing I was never really close and would likely never find you. So you see, you finding your mate isn’t just your miracle, but mine too.”

Killian allowed that to sink in, and finally he accepted that Liam was really trying to do the right thing. This wasn’t a trick or a game. It was a genuine attempt by his elder brother to make amends. That was more than Killian had ever dared to dream of, but in accepting this to be fact Killian also realized that his brother’s words all pointed to a sadness he could not comprehend. Liam wasn’t here to hurt him, but he was here to say goodbye, and that goodbye was going to be a final one.

“So you mean to tell me that you withstood the bite for years, rebuilt the pack, overcame the beast again and have been tirelessly tracking me in the hopes of saying you’re sorry?”

“You’ve colored the story in my favor by putting it that way, but yes. It will never be enough, but I am sorry, Killian. I’m sorry for all of it. I miscalculated with Brennan even though we’d trained so hard. He never should have bit me in the first place, but I fucked up and he did. Then I caved so quickly to the crazy impulses this sickness brings, only to put you in the most impossible position. I can never take back that night, but if I could I truly would. More than anything though I want you to know that I tried. I tried to be the man you still believed was in me when you spared my life. I tried to be a man you and Mum could be proud of. I tried as long as I could.”

“And so now what, it’s just over? You’re giving up?” Tink asked, her own hard exterior defenses softening as she grappled with the self-sacrifice Liam was planning to make.  

“There’s no other way. I can’t live with this beast without succumbing to it,” Liam confessed, his resigned manner making Killian’s heart ache even more. “I’m a threat to everyone I meet. It’s barely restrained. The monster keeps rising closer and closer to the surface. Seeing you right now is the work of so much time, brother, and it’s all I ever wanted, but the pain I feel at holding onto everything is almost blinding. Frankly it’s miraculous I’ve held on this long. Soon enough the dam will break, and when it does I’ll be gone, and you and the people you care about here will be in real danger. So I have to stop that from happening. I can’t become what our father was. I won’t.”

“So you’ll die a hero then, a man who overcame to spare the rest of us. Because that’s what you’re saying. You’re saying you have to die. That you have to…” Killian couldn’t even form the rest of the terrible words, instead leaving the implication hanging in the air around them.

“It’s the only way.”

“I don’t believe that,” Killian said. “I might have bought that before. If you found me even a few months ago I would have been jaded enough to do so, but now… there’s too much good in the world for this to end like this Liam. There’s hope that lives here, hope like we’ve never known before, hope you deserve to feel.”

“Your mate, you love her,” Liam said and Killian nodded, now not distressed at Liam’s casual mention of Emma or at the thoughtful smile that formed on Liam’s face. “She’s your light and your hope, just like Mum used to say a mate should be, and I’m happy for you, brother, happier than you’ll ever know. I only wish I had the chance to meet the woman who could be so much to my favorite person.”

“Killian!”

The call from Emma that sounded through the woods at this most opportune time caused Killian to move forward, soon enough she appeared at the tree line with Ruby, Elsa, and Anna, and when she did Killian could see her fierce want to be with him and to protect him. She didn’t realize that he didn’t need protection, but at least now Liam could see the light that he had guessed at previously. He could have one wish granted in the end.

As he was thinking that though, Liam surprised Killian by springing towards Emma and her friends, and Killian’s good thoughts evaporated at the perceived threat. Liam moved with lightening speed, charging in Emma’s direction and Killian matched his pace, acting on instinct until he’d come to stand right before his love, protecting her as best he could, but then he realized it wasn’t Emma Liam had in his sights, it was Elsa. The expression on Liam’s face was torn and in flux, his eyes flashed between blue and the brilliant color of a healthy wolf, but all of his attention was settled on Emma’s best friend. One moment he was joyous, the next confused, and concerned. His actions were strange and almost unknowable, but then Killian realized something: Elsa must truly matter to Liam. She must call to him, and intrigue him in a way that he couldn’t control himself. She must be…

……………

My mate!

The words repeating over and over in his head the moment Liam laid eyes on the fair-haired beauty before him were undeniable, and even stranger they were said in the tone of his wolf pre-sickness. The demons that had taken up residence in his mind the past few years were silent, and all there was to focus on was this impossibly beautiful woman.

For a few beats of his heart, Liam experienced a rush of yearning and rightness. For the first time in years he felt like he had a chance at being whole and at being more than okay again. Acting on instinct he moved toward this familiar stranger, pulled by something stronger than gravity to be closer in her orbit. He barely even took in the others in her presence. Ruby was there, and he spared her the same fleeting glance that he gave to the other two women. One was clearly Killian’s mate, as his brother had charged to stand in front of her in a show of protection, but Killian’s face wasn’t animated with anger. Instead he looked perplexed and then a small smile began to tug at his lips as understanding dawned on him. Liam didn’t have time to make heads or tails of that; all he wanted was to get to his angel – his mate.

“Liam, stop!” Ruby said fiercely, putting her body between him and the woman he wanted so badly and Liam felt a growl growing in his chest, but he ultimately halted in his tracks. He met his cousin’s eyes, which were slightly clouded in that familiar way that said she was here in this moment while also receiving one of the visions she’d been having since childhood. When it had passed Liam growled low again, not liking the distance from his new found other half, and though Ruby seemed more relaxed than a moment ago, her fear had shifted to annoyance very quickly. “Seriously, quit it or you’ll scare her.”

“Uh, isn’t that the point?” one of the other women whispered. Looking at her, Liam could see some similarities between this woman and his blue-eyed beauty. They must be related somehow, but Liam’s gaze only stayed with her a moment before returning to his impossible dream again. “He’s the bad guy, remember?”

“He’s not,” his mate said sternly, speaking for the first time in his presence. Her voice rang out with indescribable melody, and each word, each subtle intonation lapped at his very soul like a gentle wave on the shore.

Her eyes didn’t demure in any way as he continued to stare her down, instead she met his gaze head on, and the emotion that he saw in those crystal blue pools nearly knocked him over. She was already fierce in her want to protect him and defend him despite not knowing him at all, and God he could just see how sweet and pure she was. Her hair was so light it could hardly be real, and though she’d tied it back in a tidy, elegant braid, Liam longed to see it set free. So many little dreams passed before his eyes – flashes of what he wanted with her, of what he wished could be. He never imagined anything like her before, he longed to reach out and touch her and to hold her close. She was sunlight in the midst of so much shadow, but he’d never deserve her, and he knew rationally that they could never be together, even if he’d never wanted anything more.

“I am though, love. And this… it can’t happen. I can’t be here,” Liam murmured. The realization was worse than anything he’d ever felt. He’d do all of life’s most terrible moments over again a million times to avoid this fate. He’d give anything to have things be different, but they weren’t. He was broken, and though he didn’t even know her name, Liam knew he’d never subject this angel to the burdens that he carried.

“You can,” his mate replied, her eyes holding so much softness even in the face of his brusque attempt at cold.

“Elsa?” The woman who clearly belonged with Killian looked for guidance and more clarification from his mate, and Liam rejoiced at hearing her name for the first time. Elsa – so unique and uncommon, just like her.

“It’s all right, Emma. It’s going to be okay,” Elsa said before looking back to him and speaking directly to him again. “You’re going to be okay.”

“No, I’m not. It’s – God it’s a sick joke! I live long enough to find you, but I can’t have you.”

“Yes you can. I can help you,” Elsa said, her voice lilting with the same calm and warmth despite the fact that his own was edging towards full-blown despair.

“Help him?” Ruby asked, her face giving every hint that her visions weren’t serving her as well as she wanted right now. She couldn’t read the future that his mate seemed so certain of, but without even hearing the details, Liam felt himself start to believe this remarkable woman. He knew nothing of Elsa, but at the same time he knew everything, and if she believed then he would to. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I can heal him,” Elsa announced, totally and completely assured of herself.

“How?” Everyone except for Liam asked at the same time, and then Elsa smiled as she very clearly replied.

“Because I’m his mate.”

“MATE?!” the girl who looked like Elsa asked exuberantly. “Did you just say mate? Did my sister just say mate?!”

“Yes, Anna, I said mate,” Elsa said, her own happiness bubbling up into a tinkling laugh that sounded out like the chimes of a bell.

Liam’s chest filled with pride at her claiming him like this, and he knew he’d never felt such joy in his life. That she would feel all he felt for her was incredible, and that she could see past the darkness that he was… well it was the best thing that had ever happened in his life. It was only topped by the moment that his Elsa stepped forward, finally taking his hand in hers. At the contact he was overcome with elation in a way that defied description. All he knew was one moment he was a jumble of feelings and the next he was truly peaceful. For the first time in a long time all his monsters were at bay, and he felt anchored even as he reveled in this taste of true freedom. Then he watched as a swirl of light began to emanate from her. It was magic, raw, powerful light magic, and he felt it seep into him, warming him through and making him feel like more than he’d ever been, even before the bite.

“See what I mean?” Elsa whispered so quietly he was sure only he could here. “We can handle this. We’ll figure this out together.”

“Together,” Liam mused as his hands pulled her closer so she was flush against his body. “Got to say I love the sound of that.”

And though they’d only just met, and their journey together was still as new as new could be, Liam felt euphoric when his mate moved upwards to press a kiss to his lips. As crazy as this was, and as sudden as the shift had been from all hope being lost to every dream coming true, Liam wouldn’t have it any other way. Lost in the love he already felt coursing through him for her, he allowed the weight of his world to slip away, and as long as he had Elsa by his side, he knew there were no more beasts and no more demons that could ever be successful in holding him down.

……………

“So this hasn’t gone exactly as expected,” Emma commented as the rest of them watched Elsa and Liam connecting closer to the middle of the field. They were caught up in a heated kiss, but what was truly awe inspiring was the flow of magic all around them. You could see it and feel it all around them, and without even needing to be told of any set plans or remedies, Emma knew her friend was right when she said she’d be the one to heal Killian’s brother.  

To be honest though, this was quite literally one of the last things Emma ever could have anticipated. Even if she had believed that there was a chance that Liam might still be savable, she couldn’t have ever expected that his savior would be Elsa or that her best friend would find the same kind of true love in an instant as Emma and Killian had. It was a truly remarkable thing, and as she watched Liam and Elsa’s embrace she felt her eyes grow misty. This was such a blessing for so many reasons, not the least of which was that Killian would have one of the most important people in his life back. Finally after so long so many of his old hurts could heal, and in the process Elsa would hopefully find her own happily ever after, which Emma knew she absolutely deserved.

“No, love. I think it’s safe to say this has gone completely off the rails.”

“In a good way though,” Emma joked and Killian laughed, pressing a light kiss to her lips.

“Aye, in the best way. My brother has returned, Elsa is confident that she can heal him, and it turns out they are fated mates. Who would believe it?”

“Well while we’re on the subject of mates, the new sheriff is making my wolf act up. Could be nothing but -,”

Before Ruby could get the words out a growl sounded from the woods, and Emma looked over to see a giant wolf at the tree line. It was clear the wolf had been there for some time, and Emma had to assume this was Graham. Even though she’d been around shifters more and more the past few weeks, it was still an amazing thing to see. These animals were gorgeous and different and huge, and yet it was still totally Graham. Emma couldn’t explain it, there was just something about the way this wolf carried himself. Well that and the way that he was not pleased with Ruby underselling their connection, which was admittedly hilarious. Still, there was so much happening here, Emma couldn’t help shaking her head in continued disbelief.

“That doesn’t sound like ‘nothing,’” Anna said gleefully. “In fact, it sounds like this might just be my favorite day ever!”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally here for the surprise love fest,” Tink replied as she stuck her thumb out in Graham’s general direction, “Especially if it means seeing this guy find someone after years of telling me he never would. You owe me a hundred bucks by the way, Humbert.”

Graham’s wolf made what was probably the animal equivalent of an amused snort, which caused everyone to laugh, except for Ruby who rolled her eyes in feigned annoyance.

“Oh what, like it’s hard to be fated for me?” Her words were barely out of her mouth and Graham had shifted back, holding her close and making her gasp as he leaned in to reassure her.

“Easiest thing I’ve ever done, babe. Count on that.” The words, corny as they sounded to Emma, made Ruby swoon, which in turn seemed to set off Elsa and Liam and even she and Killian.

“Okay, cool it cowboy. It’s been like ten minutes and there are other people present,” Tink said, sternly reminding the couples that now was not the time or place. “Like I was saying, this absolutely beats a battle to the death. But I gotta ask… are we actually out of the woods here? Is Liam safe to be around or to even have in town for that matter?”

“He’s safe,” Elsa and Ruby said at the same time and Emma felt the last of Killian’s tension leave him as he exhaled at their assurances.

“So it’s over then? That’s it?” Emma asked, her whole attitude brightening at the thought that this great daunting doom that had hung over them so long was finally through. Now she and Killian could get on with the whole settling in and building a life together thing, something that she was definitely ready for. And more than that, Liam not being a threat meant all of them were safe now. Her family could stop worrying, and her friends could rest easy. In short, this was a spectacular turn of events.

“Well I wouldn’t say it’s over,” Anna acknowledged with a wave of her hand. “It seems to me that it’s really only beginning. Plus if you think we’re ending this and I don’t get a fated match too then you’re crazy. I’ll be patient, but I will be finding true love, you hear me?”

It was impossible not to laugh at Anna’s words, and Emma tucked herself into Killian as she did, loving the rumble of his laughter as it moved against her at Anna’s antics. Closing her eyes for a brief moment Emma allowed herself to just take this all in. The sun was shining, the breeze was gentle as it moved through the glen, and the air around them crackled with that sense of rightness that Emma usually only felt when she and Killian were alone and trying to forget the world. That she could feel this with everyone was a gift, and Emma knew this was a turning point; it just had to be.

“Well, I think there’s really only one question left to ask,” Tink said with a look of pure amusement on her face. “Who’s telling the Nolans?”

“Not it!” Emma, Anna, and Elsa all chimed at the same time, but before they could debate amongst themselves who would deliver the updates to her parents, her mother’s voice interrupted over the static of the radio that no one had noticed until just now.

“Hey, I heard that! Oh shoot I forgot to say over. I heard that, over.”

Tink looked shocked and Emma knew that this wasn’t some elaborate prank. Tink was genuinely unaware that Mary Margaret had been listening in. They were all astounded, well all of them except Graham who immediately looked embarrassed. He motioned to the radio he’d been wearing and finally seemed to notice it had been set to on this whole time, even when he’d been in wolf form.

“That’s my bad. I gave her the extra radio at the station yesterday. Figured it would be the best way to keep them in the loop. I didn’t realize it was on all this time.”

“Was it really though?” Emma asked, knowing her mother could fully hear her now. “I don’t know how likely it is that Mom could hear everything happening today and keep quiet. First you and Ruby, then Elsa and Liam. It would have been an awful lot of temptation…”

“Emma!” Her Mom said with a tone of censure, but then there was mumbling in the background and she heard her mother sigh. “Okay fine, I wanted to say things but your father reminded me that if I did Graham would probably shut off the feed, and I just couldn’t risk it.”

“I may not know your parents well, but that sounds about right,” Ruby said with a smirk. “And five bucks says Granny’s in on this too.”

“No one’s dumb enough to take that bet,” Killian joked and sure enough Granny’s voice came through the feed confirming that she was there and enjoying all the updates as well.

“Oh I’m here, and I have all sorts of questions for this man who thinks he’s good enough for my Ruby Lee.”

“Oh Jesus,” Ruby said with the first show of embarrassment she’d had today. She grabbed the walkie talkie from Graham and finally put this all to bed.

“All right you three, show’s over. You’ve had your fun. Granny, I will see you tomorrow,” Ruby said, before backtracking after looking back at Graham whose eyes were on her and filled with both heat and a quizzical question asking if she’d really be up for company tomorrow. “Scratch that, I’ll see you soon…ish. You want references, you got them sitting right next to you. I’m sure Mary Margaret and David are all too happy to fill you in on all things Graham.”

Anna then took the reciever from Ruby and gave her own message to Emma’s parents. “And don’t worry, I was only playing earlier. I’ll be over to fill you in on everything you missed. All I ask is that you make one of your awesome blueberry pies. I don’t have a man yet, so I should at least get some damn dessert.”

Emma bit back another laugh at how quickly her mother agreed to that proposition, and over the next few minutes the group disbanded, with the new mates going to find alone time as Anna and Tink headed towards her parents house. For Emma and Killian though, there was so much to be said and so much to discuss, but Emma knew that they wouldn’t get into the details tonight. No, she didn’t see much in the way of talking happening tonight at all, not when the relief she felt was so distinctly mirrored in her mate’s eyes, and not when the lifting of the Liam burden had left space only for love and hope and happiness.

“Picture it, love,” Killian said as he brought her into the house, locking the door behind them and then pulling her into his arms so there was no space left between them. “A whole night just you and me and some good old fashioned peace and quiet.”

“Well I don’t know about quiet…” Emma teased as her hand trailed down his chest, her voice dropping a bit lower and the huskiness of her want for him sounding out undeniably in her tone. “I kind of like when we get all worked up.”

Killian’s growl gave away how much he loved that too, and the next thing she knew he was sweeping her up and bringing them to the bedroom. Whether it was shifter speed or just Emma’s own infatuated state any time Killian put his hands on her she didn’t know, but it felt like one second her feet were on the ground and the next she was pinned against the door in their bedroom as Killian gazed at her with lust and love and longing.

“Allow me to be more clear,” Killian murmured his mouth whispering the words against her skin between kisses as he moved from his lips to her jaw, down her neck and lower. “Tonight it’s just you and me and the love between us. Nothing – and I do mean nothing – is getting between me and my mate tonight.”

Killian murmured the words as he practically ripped the clothing from her body, and Emma was mindless to do anything but claw away the clothes he still had on too. She went from teasing to needy in the blink of an eye, and from the hungry, predatory gaze Killian sent her way, Emma knew the night before them would be anything but fast. No, Killian had other plans, and if the already delicious torment of his hands and his mouth were anything to go by, Emma was going to be more than satisfied in every way.

“Every day I wonder if I’ll be used to this yet,” Killian rasped against her skin as he brought her to the bed, trailing his wicked mouth along the bared flesh of her neck. He nipped lightly at one of the mating marks he’d left on her and Emma jumped, her body so hot and ready and wanting though they’d barely even begun. “I wonder if your beauty will stop taking my breath away, or if I’ll feel anything but awe here in your presence. Will my heart stop feeling fit to burst? Will my need ever calm or wane away?”

“And the verdict?” Emma asked as one of his hands moved up her thigh as his lips moved down to her breasts, his touches moving between gentle and demanding, riling her up so effortlessly.

“It’s a waste of wondering, love. For there will never come a day when I don’t crave you. I need you, Emma, more than anything the world over, and I love you in ways I can’t possibly put in words.”

“So show me,” Emma begged, her voice a breathy moan as Killian’s lips turned up in a sinfully sexy smirk.

“That’s exactly what I plan to do.”

Emma was so torn in this moment. Mindless with pleasure and crescendoing desire, she wanted to close her eyes and revel in all of his ministrations. His fingers came to touch her most intimate skin, and the brush of his thumb on her clit as his teeth nipped the sensitive part of her breast pulled more moans from within her. But if she looked away from him now, Emma would deny herself the pleasure of seeing the man she was made for looking both fantastically wild and totally in control. Killian was so damn attractive.  He always had her thinking the dirtiest things and craving something more, no matter the time of day, but seeing him like this, totally assured and completely in command of her body had her arching to be closer to him. He was magnificent right now – and if someone were to tell her there was a world outside of this bed right now she’d hardly believe them. She was so caught up in this moment, so strung out sensation, all she could do was feel and want and beg for more.

“Killian,” she pleaded, words failing her, and then he growled with satisfaction against her skin. 

The hum of his territorial action pushed Emma’s already aching need towards the edge of release. Then the anticipation pushed her still closer as he moved down her body, his lips tasting every part of her until his mouth came to feast on her, tormenting her into marvelous madness.  She shattered so quickly, but her mate wasn’t anywhere near satisfied. He pulled her climax from her only to tease her more, building her up and taking another. He seemed hell bent on a third but Emma was brazen now and desperate for more. She pulled him back up to her, and when he thrust inside, filling her completely she felt nothing but satisfaction and the most ethereal sense of completion.

There was no telling how long they were locked together like this. Both of them were consumed with the other, chasing release and saying with words and with actions everything they felt. This was more than love; it was destiny while somehow also being a choice. No matter what the mating call had said, Emma knew that their love transcended all of that. Nature was strong, but somehow this was stronger, and the pull of wanting never seemed to fade between them.

“You’re mine,” Emma whispered, when they were both spent and exhausted, as she placed another kiss to the place just above his heart. She must have said it a thousand times tonight, but each time it was both a claiming and a prayer. She was so happy to have this and to have Killian, and there was no denying that he felt the same. 

“And you’re mine, Emma. For far longer than forever.”

With those beautiful promises in mind, Emma lay there, wrapped up in her mate thinking about how sure this thing between them was. And as she drifted off to sleep, it was almost hard to discern reality from fantasy, because life, right here in this moment, was better than any dream. Because this life was real and it was hers and it was filled with endless, glorious, wonderful possibility. 

Post-Note: So some of you (okay probably all of you) must have seen this coming. I would never be able to write something so painful as losing Liam or Killian having to kill his brother. I always knew ever since the start that Liam and Elsa would be mates, and I knew that the only way to heal Liam would require magic. There’s much more to come in terms of the bite and how Elsa will help Liam, so rest assured that will be covered. And there’s also quite a few more chapters left to go. My plan is to have 22 chapters and then potentially an additional epilogue, and trust me when I tell you there is plenty more story yet, and all of our twists and turns are not quite over. Anyway thanks so much to all of you for all your love and support. It might be few weeks or so until I get to publish my next chapter because I am doing a lot of traveling now that school is out, but I promise it’s coming! Thanks again and hope you all have a great rest of your week!

Tag list: @jennjenn615, @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @teamhook, @ultraluckycatnd, @resident-of-storybrooke, @artistic-writer, @snowbellewells, @snarkycaptainswan4, @allofdafandoms-blog

[radientwings]

A Chosen Path (Elriel Fluff)

Inspired by a prompt from the lovely @rosehallshadowsinger, who wanted to see elriel as mates. Post-ACOFAS AU with a healthy coating of fluff.

It wasn’t heard of. It wasn’t. No one male or female should have two bonds attached to two other souls. But it was as the Cauldron willed it. Or so Azriel thought. Because when Elain was Made, Lucien wasn’t the only one to feel the sudden call of mate, mate, mate.

It was a painful thing, to have that sudden snap in his soul as it was attached to another, a string, a path between them as strong and undeniable as fate. But Azriel couldn’t even act on it, didn’t have the time, before he heard Lucien Vanserra – a male Azriel cared little for – whisper the very thing that was singing in Azriel’s blood. 

“You’re my mate.”

And just like that, it was over. Everything came crashing down in him, all the hopes, the possibilities. Azriel had never thought that he’d craved something as archaic as a mating bond until the moment it was ripped away from him. It left him bereft, empty. Here he was, his soul singing for its twin, its mate, only to find the other end of the bond already reaching to a different male altogether.

(Azriel hadn’t even considered that his mate might choose him, not at that moment, with an ash bolt through his chest and the pain of loss setting fire in his heart. He’d never believed himself worthy of such a pure, wondrous thing. Perhaps that’s why he’d followed after Mor for so long and with such devotion; how, after all, could you attain the unattainable?)

He managed to tamp down every latent instinct in him that roared at him to tear Lucien’s damned head off, managed to block off every facet of his fledgling bond and focus only on the more serious matter at hand; staying alive. It was humiliating, that he could do nothing but suffer in silence as his friends, his family, fought against the onslaught that was the King of Hybern and his Cauldron-damned allies. But there was that bolt – that blasted bolt – lodged in his chest, and there was poison ready to surge through his blood and end him.

Useless, his mind whispered. Utterly useless. What was the point of all his power, of his shadows, if he could do nothing with it when it was most needed? What was the point of it all? (What was the point of it, if he hadn’t even been able to save his mate from a fate she was likely terrified of? Sweet, human Elain, who had never wanted this life, but still treated him – the most terrifying of his kind – with nothing but kindness and respect. It was more than even his own people had ever afforded him.)

Only after it all, after their miraculous escape thanks to their very clever, very reckless High Lady (and Mother above, Azriel would never forgive himself for letting her take the fall for them), did Azriel let himself examine this new bond in his soul. It was not yet made fully, but also not broken. No, it was lying in wait, dormant until two souls were brought together or torn apart forever.

But Azriel knew, he knew, that this bond would never truly be his, that it would never sing between his and Elain’s minds. Why should she choose him when she had another male already vying for her hand? A male who, by all accounts, seemed more suited to her.

And besides, as the weeks and months passed, he saw just how damaged Elain had become in her new body, how she shied away from all contact with her supposed mate. No, Azriel wouldn’t add to her burden. He couldn’t. 

He had no expectations of her, would never force her into anything she didn’t want. Like his High Lord, he was no traditionalist, who treated the females of their kind like mere commodities, bartered and bought and owned. (He knew that his own mother, a servant too beautiful for her own good, had suffered immensely by the hands of such males. He would never do the same. Never.)

So he kept it a secret. From everyone. He used all the power in him to shut off his bond, though it was agony. Thankfully, lying was as easy as breathing in Azriel’s world – his greatest achievement and greatest flaw. It’s what made him Prythian’s greatest spy… but also left him alone, even among friends. There were very few beings that knew anything about who Azriel was, about his past. Fewer still, who knew any sort of details.

But even with it being a secret, Azriel couldn’t stay away, often drifting into Elain’s orbit. Would it be so bad if they became friends? Wouldn’t that ease his pain?

At least, that’s what Azriel told himself every time he went to see her. Besides, it seemed Elain could use all the friendship she was offered. 

Elain. By the Cauldron, Elain. His thoughts were so constantly filled with her these days, even with thousands of things he had to do, even with a war looming. But he couldn’t stop himself. She was a rare kindness in their world, unfettered even by the traumas she’d been through. Yes, the others seemed to think she was broken by it all. But Azriel… Azriel saw her for what she was.

A seer, learning to use her gifts. A fae, unused to power and immortality and animal instinct. A female, who loved the simplicity and satisfaction of gardening and other household tasks, but who yearned for the complexity of love and family.

A human woman, stuck in a body she did not want and mourning for the life she’d lost.

So Azriel could give her patience and silent companionship. Could give her friendship and understanding. He even found peace in it, sitting by her side in her garden. Enjoyed speaking softly with her when she felt like it, even if it was about the flowers she was planning on adding to her garden, the new recipes she was learning with Nuala and Cerridwen. Especially then. After all, Azriel rarely heard of anything other than bloodshed and death and betrayal. Elain and her flowers were a comfort. A wonderful comfort.

And, Mother above, she was just so beautiful. Everything about her. She practically shone with it. Azriel ached at seeing it. He was used to the dark, had lived his first years in it, so how could he ever think he deserved this? How could he dare consider tainting her by forcing a bond with a monster on her?

He couldn’t. He couldn't. 

It was around this time that he realized the feelings in him were love. A love vastly different from the one he’d harbored for Mor for so long. Real love. He was in love with Elain. Cauldron damn him.

(He knew what a bad idea it was. Knew how horribly this could end and yet still his heart betrayed him.)

Even still, Azriel said nothing, didn’t even dare hint at his true feelings. No, Azriel waited and waited and waited for the day Elain would finally accept Lucien.

Part of him, the worst part of him, couldn’t help but be glad that she seemed to shun Lucien in the months after the war. It gave him longer to enjoy this tentative friendship between them without worry. He was sure that the moment their bond was secure, Azriel would no longer have a place here.

It was only after the Solstice that Azriel started to hope. He was a fool, really, to think that a bottle of tonic was some sort of sign. But no one could claim that the heart was logical.

When winter was finally letting up for the year and he and Elain began to enjoy the sunshine together again, she told him something that changed his entire worldview.

“I’ve told Lucien I wouldn’t be accepting the bond,” Elain said, voice soft and sweet, as she washed her hands in the kitchen sink, covered in dirt from the garden. Azriel dreamt of that voice, of those hands. It was one of the few good things his dreams brought him, the image of this lovely female.

He felt himself still where he stood beside her, washing his own hands; Elain had roped him into helping her with a single pleading look and shy smile. (If only his enemies could see him now, utterly in the thrall of this female with azaleas woven in her hair and stars in her eyes.)

“Well, it’s only understandable that you should want more time to adjust,” Azriel hedged, voice equally soft. He resumed washing his hands, carefully, carefully. He couldn’t let himself hope.

Elain reached over then, put her unblemished hand over his scarred one, stilling him. She tangled their wet fingers together, as if needing the strength. “No, I told him that I would never accept it. It didn’t seen right, to let him hope like that. Not when I already knew my decision.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, forced himself to look up and meet her eyes, found her already staring at back him nervously. “Then I feel I should congratulate you, it’s no easy feat to make a decision like that. Did he take it well?”

“As well as he was able. Although I don’t think he’ll make his way here again for a long time,” she admitted, playing idly with his fingers, still slightly soapy. She reached over to grab a hand towel, drying his hands with all gentleness, tracing his scars.

Azriel’s ancient heart thumped wildly in his chest, but he tried not to look too much into her actions. She’d started doing that lately, taking his hands in hers tentatively whenever a vision suddenly hit her or she craved closeness with another living being. Sometimes she leaned the slightest bit into his side, as much as propriety allowed her. Azriel was downright charmed by it, this need of hers to hold onto her human politeness even when sliding closer to him.

“That’s not your fault, Elain,” Azriel said now, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. “You owed him nothing and yet you still took your time to consider it, consider him. All you can do now is let him have his distance.”

She nodded, before cocking her head slightly, giving him a considering look. For a second Azriel thought maybe a vision was coming on but then her gaze turned nervous again rather than distant.

“There’s another reason I told him now, something I realized.” 

“Oh?”

She hesitated, still staring up at him, brown eyes filled with trepidation. A part of Azriel knew that if she didn’t say whatever was bothering her now, it wouldn’t ever come out. So he gave her an encouraging smile.

“What did you realize?” he asked, voice a mere whisper. He knew how to cajole people into telling him whatever he wanted to hear, but he didn’t resort to that now, with her. He just waited. Patient. Almost light-headed with it.

And then, so suddenly Azriel barely realized it happened, Elain rose to her tiptoes and placed the quickest of pecks to his lips. 

Azriel stood, stunned, as Elain pulled away, her cheeks bright pink. She looked at him for a long time, looked at his stone-still expression, before her own face shuttered, whatever hope that was there fading. It was only when she started to pull away from him completely that Azriel snapped out of his frozen state. He grabbed her wrist, gentle despite its strength, and pulled her back into his chest, crushing his lips to hers. 

Elain made a brief noise of surprise, before she melted into him, her fingers tangling in the fine material of jacket. Azriel cupped the side of her lovely face, encouraged her closer as their lips moved against each other’s. His other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her steady.

Mother, to have this. Azriel couldn’t quite believe it. Maybe this was another dream. Well, if that was the case, Azriel didn’t want to wake, like he had the hundreds of times before that he’d dreamt this very thing.

But this wasn’t his wistful unconscious showing him what he most desired. This was real and that made it all the more beautiful. Perfect in its imperfections, because their teeth clacked together at first, making them both laugh, until Azriel corrected the angle with sure experience and oh, that was it. The kiss was relatively chaste, as kisses went, but it set his entire body on fire in a way he’d never felt before.

(So this is what it could be like to be with someone you love, he thought.) 

After an eternity that was far too short, Azriel pulled his lips away from Elain, only to rest his forehead against hers. Her eyes were shining as they looked up at him, her cheeks a charming pink. He gave into the temptation that had been with him for so long and traced the line of cheekbone. She leaned into it, pressing a quick kiss to his wrist. His heart beat all the faster for it.

“So what was it you realized?” Azriel asked again, teasing.

Elain laughed, shaking her head at him fondly. She reached up to trace his strong jaw. “I realized that I didn’t need a mating bond with Lucien,” she told him, steadfast. “I already have you.”

In any other circumstance, those words would have made him the happiest male alive, but as it was, they stopped him short – they felt like ice-water down his spine. Because she spoke of the mating bond. And she… she didn’t know everything. Didn’t know that there was another bond in play here.

How could her decision ever be true if she didn’t know all the details? Maybe it was this bond between them that pulled her to him unconsciously, and not her true feelings.

(Cauldron, he did it again. Let his heart run away from him.)

So he extricated himself from her… because he had to. He couldn’t allow this to continue under false pretenses.

“Azriel?” Elain asked worriedly, reaching for him.

He let her grab his hand, focusing on the sight of their linked hands. (He was sure he wouldn’t be seeing this again anytime soon.) “I… I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you Elain.” 

She made a concerned noise. “How do you mean?”

Mother above, this was hard. “You’ve made your decision without all of the information. I’m sorry about that,” Azriel managed to say, forcing the words out of his tight throat. He laughed bitterly. “I suppose it’s in my nature to lie and deceive. I am the Court’s spymaster.”

Elain took his other hand in hers, giving both a gentle squeeze. “Azriel, it’s all right. I know.”

It was rare that anyone took Azriel by surprise. But here he was, well and truly surprised. “You– You do?” 

“Yes. You might be the spymaster, but I’m a seer. It took me a while, but I found the other bond in me, the potential for it, months ago,” she paused, eyes distant as she smiled softly. “There was a vision, just a small one. It was of the two of us, but the bond was there and it sang.” She met his eyes then, and he could see the truth in them, the undeniable truth.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Azriel found himself saying, even knowing the hypocrisy of it.

But Elain just looked at him knowingly. “For the same reason you didn’t. I was… I was scared. I didn’t know what it all meant. And I kept thinking that I’d wake up one day and this, all of this, this new life of mine, was just a dream.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t. I know that now. And I wouldn’t change it, not anymore,” she said, smiling up at him. And, stars, if that wasn’t something – to see her, smiling, as she spoke of her new immortal life. Perhaps her mourning period was finally over. Azriel couldn’t be happier for her; he knew all too well what it was like to hate the very body you lived in.

“Why… why me?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Elain took his face in her hands, her eyes alight with fierce protection. “Why not you? You expected nothing of me, Azriel. You pushed nothing. You were my friend when I most needed one. You never ridiculed me for my simplicity,” he made a noise at that – because she might like the simple things, but she was never herself simple, and Azriel hated that people thought so little of her because she was different from most of her kind – but she shushed gently him with a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Please, let me finish,” she said, smiling fondly. “You’re also unfailingly kind, yet you don’t seem to realize it. You’re beautiful, Azriel. So beautiful. In and out.” That smile again, this time wider. “How could I not be in love with you?”

“Elain.”

Her fingers were soft against his cheeks. “The Cauldron gave me two possibilities, two fates. I choose this one, with you… That is, if you’ll have me.”

Azriel’s heart beat faster than it ever had in battle. He could hardly believe his luck that Elain – wonderful, irresistible Elain Archeron – was giving him this, was baring her soul to him. His entire body ached with love for her, full to the brim and ready to burst.

Please, let this be real.

He pressed their foreheads together again. “Of course, I will. Of course. There’s nothing I want more.” He turned to kiss her temples, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth, everywhere he could reach. Elain melted against him once more, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

“Do you know,” Azriel began, smiling so hard it hurt, “I think I was lost before you came along. I suppose there’s just something about you, Elain Archeron, that makes me want to be worthy. I would have you for all of eternity.”

He finally leaned down to kiss her berry-red lips again, and this time not so chastely, their tongues chasing each other. When they separated, breathless, he ducked his head into the crook of her neck, breathing in her intoxicating scent.

“Mate,” he whispered. Mate, mate, my mate. My Elain.

Elain froze under his hands for the briefest of moments, before she let out a long gasp. She gripped him by the roots of his hair, pulling his head up so she could search for his eyes, almost anxious.

“My mate,” she returned. “My mate. Can we–?”

Azriel knew immediately what she spoke of, that bond that still wasn’t complete. “Yes,” he told her, kissing her once, twice. “Yes.”

He stilled them then, keeping Elain locked in his embrace, faces so close their breath mingled. And he closed his eyes and let go of his iron grip on the string, the path that connected them. Let it roar to life.

And then finally, finally, it snapped in place. Their elusive bond. And by the Mother and the Cauldron and every other holy thing, it was beautiful. Indescribable, this unbreakable link between them. Azriel felt Elain all around, felt her soul, full of brightness even with its dark patches. His own rose to meet it, followed the path to her until every bit of them was intertwined.

Azriel had never felt anything like it, would never feel anything like it, as he dove deeper and deeper until he didn’t know where he ended and she began.

He felt Elain’s happiness as if it was his own, understood her hopes and dreams and fears. Even felt her love for him, and, Cauldron, if that wasn’t enough to nearly knock him of his worldly feet.

Elain’s laughter was like bells, her joy like the sun.

Oh, Azriel, her voice – the voice he’d dreamt of a hundred times – floated to him.

Elain, his mind whispered back, sweet, lovely Elain.

They floated there for a while, in this beautiful space they now shared, full of light and dark, and happiness and sadness, all mingled together. It was strength, this bond, their strength. It was them.

And then Azriel whispered three words to her – words he hadn’t yet told her, despite all that had happened to them in this moment. This moment, that should have been an ordinary one, just another morning spent cleaning up in the kitchen, but had turned out extraordinary.

I love you, he said, letting the words and the truth of them ring out between them.

I know, she replied, and I love you.

And their bond sang. 

As it would for the rest of their eternity.

Tagging @julesherondalex, @xxliekebearxx and @xpotatojesusx

Feel free to message me if you want to be added to my elriel fic (or acotar fic in general) tag list! Also would love to hear some elriel, feysand or maybe nessian prompts if you have them! Until next time ;)

[emmaekay]

Kotonari II - Castle, part 3

AN: This is the final part of “Castle!” This fic is gonna be long as hell, based on the fact that I’m two chapters deep and already at 13k words.  Reminder f you’re just tuning in, Kotonari is the sequel to Keiyaku - read that first or spoil that story for yourself - check the “vegebul au” tag on my blog for the Keiyaku master post. For the other parts of Kotonari, check the “vegebul au” or “kotonari” tags. 

This chapter is explicit! 

Chapter II - Castle, part 3

 The boy stood atop the highest rampart of the tallest tower on the castle in Asket, and he looked at the land that could have been. That still could be. Vegetasei was still verdant, lush, alive. The rivers still ran clean and clear. The hills were unblasted, whole. The only thing that looked the same to him were the roads - hard beaten, red, winding, eternal.

This could have been home.

This should have been home.

The boy stood there, in the descending darkness, and he felt alone and afraid - yet hopeful and happy. If he was in time, he could go home to a home just like this one. If he was in time, he could meet his mother. If he was in time, he could go back and grow up with his sister. If he was in time, he could have his true father.

 If he was in time, the boy would have a name.

 If he was in time.

 But for now, the boy stood on the battlement and wondered where to begin.

 ---

 Vegeta held his head in his hands. What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? Again and again, some dark part of himself admonished him over and over and over again. What have I done? Murderer. Coward. Dishonorable one.

“I’m not!” Vegeta spoke aloud, head still in his hands, fighting against the darkness inside himself. “I’m not - I didn’t mean - I -”

 You killed him. Not in combat. Not in a match. In anger. Murderer.

 “He fought back - he was strong enough to defend himself - why wouldn’t he block my -”

 You fought dirty. Coward! Just like when you froze, a helpless fool while your wife died and your children cried for her.

“BULMA’S NOT DEAD!”

You saw her. She’s dead and you might as well have killed her. You failed her. Coward.

Vegeta screamed in his agony, still clutching his head in his hands, crumpling to his knees on the ground. Why wouldn’t this voice just shut up, why wouldn’t it just go away? Only a day ago, only a day ago, he was happy with her. He was happy with his children. He was a Prince.

Now you’re just a madman. Murderer. Coward. Dishonorable one. Fool.

Over and through him, the darkness swelled, calling out every insecurity he had ever felt.

Everything good dies because of you. Tarble. Bulma. Everything you love dies because of you.

Vegeta remembered the night he realized what he felt for Bulma, and the scene surrounded him. He remembered the night that his mother declared the conditions of the antefasting battle, how desperate he’d been to protect Bulma. Through memory, he lifted away from himself on the ground and saw Bulma, featherlight and aloft in the silver clouds as he held her. He remembered the silken soft crook of her neck, as he’d buried his face against her. “Do you trust me with your life?” He asked her that, and she only begged – “Don’t drop me.”

“I will never let you go.” You lied.

“I will never, never allow anyone to hurt you.” You killed her.

“Nothing will hurt you. Nothing will hurt you, so long as I live.” You should pay for your betrayal in blood.

“Never, never, never,” he tried to tell the memory of her, tried to block out the blackness that tainted the memory of her. “Never, never, never,” he told her, kissing her flesh over and over again as she melted away from him in the moonlight. But instead of coming back to him, as she had that night, alive and on fire with her love, she slipped away - through his fingers like mist.

And in his mind’s eye, only the shadow remained. The darkest part of himself - the one who bathed in blood on planets unknown, the one who mercilessly killed in arena matches, the one who lead his father’s armies as the general of a hundred secret missions never acknowledged by open war, the one who consumed women like water and never loved anyone but himself. The worst part of his nature took shape before his eyes.

Murderer. Coward. Dishonorable one. Madman. Fool. Weakling.

Vegeta turned away from himself. “That’s not who I am anymore.”

The shadow swirled around him. Murderer. Coward. Dishonorable one. Madman. Fool. Weakling. Liar.

The darkness overtook him, filled his mind until it was the only thing that remained. His hands fell away from his face and he stood – but the man who stood was in no way the same man who had fallen to his knees in shame and grief just moments ago. Now, Vegeta stood with darkness filling his soul and ebony eyes dyed blood red.

If pain was all he had left, let it be spread.

If hate was all that remained, let it be shared

If the Princess was dead, let the Prince die, too.

No more peace. No more love. No more – for anyone.

 ---

 Daiku’s boots hit the Prince’s estate lawn running, Dende bouncing frenetically under one arm. Daiku burst through the front door. “Beri!”

Beri’s head poked around a corner and she ran through the long dark hallway toward her husband. Dende ended up squashed between the two Saiyans in their furious embrace. 22 hours of separation wasn’t much, but the stress and indecision Daiku had been under had passed through the Keiyaku to Beri. The fear and sadness Beri had been feeling had passed through to Daiku. Both were desperate for the other’s presence and comfort – to be reunified with their mate, their battle partner, their destined one.

“Um-hellooo? Small man being suffocated.” Dende interrupted and the two came apart with a spring.

“Is this?” Beri asked her husband.

“The doctor.” Daiku nodded.

“Oh!” Beri snatched Dende’s little hands in her own. “Please, you must come now, please help her.”

“Y…es.” Dende thought about pointing out the fact that the only ones preventing him from doing so were Daiku and Beri, but thought better of it. Daiku hadn’t eaten for over a day and Dende was small – Elder only knows if Saiyans would eat Namekians, but Dende thought it best not to push it.

Beri half lead, half drug the healer down the hall and straight through the door to the bed chamber without knocking.

Queen Pea was sitting on the bed, aglow in her super Saiyan form, holding Bulma’s hand. The Queen still had the younger woman wrapped in her power, and Dende watched the Princess breath in the Queen’s same rhythm. Their lifeforces were linked, both their eyes closed. Bulma’s in the dreamless sleep of the dead – the Queen’s in the deep meditation of a spirit guide.

Dende recognized the scene – it had happened in Newnamek Village once. One of their people had been nearly killed when a house collapsed on top of him. It was only a few years after they had first gotten to Vegetasei and the dirt here made bad bricks when compared to their homes back on Namek. The poor man was crushed. Immediately, one of the Elders let all his ki flow at once into the dying man, while another man entered a meditative state and connected his ki with them both.

The first man kept the crushed one alive, and the second man went into the spirit world to shepherd his soul back into his body.

The man survived.

Dende pushed up his sleeves and headed toward the bed. He peeled back the blankets from Bulma, as Daiku and Beri stood in the doorway. Having assisted in quite a few complicated Saiyan births, Dende was no stranger to the parts involved – but there was always a husband or mate nearby, usually ready to rip Dende’s throat out for looking at his woman’s … parts.

Namekian births were just so much cleaner. Safer. Better in general, Dende thought. No one died in Namekian birth – just an egg and a hatching and a little water and sunlight: instant Namekian. Saiyan births were… honestly, Dende thought they were gross. All blood and goop and afterbirth and screaming and milk and ugh.

As Dende lifted the fabric of Bulma’s wrappings, Daiku and Beri both stepped forward a few feet into the room. “Here now!” “What are you looking –“

Dende turned around and shot them both a sardonic glance. “Namekians are sexless. I can’t fix her if I can’t see her injuries.”

Daiku glowered on the spot, but Beri was unconvinced. “Do you need… assistance?” I’m watching you, green bean.

Dende chuckled. “Yes, thank you. You’ll have to hold her legs.”

Beri regretted the offer, but there was nothing to be done now. She would have to safeguard her lady’s honor – up close and personal. Beri was taller than Dende anyway, so when he sat down on a stool at the edge of the bed, she loomed over top of him, one hand on each of Bulma’s knees as her peered in to look for an obvious wound.

“She’s still bleeding, so that will have to stop first. The placentas are still attached and her womb is ruptured. I can fix her womb, but the placenta has to come out first.”

Dende stood up, momentarily eliciting a growl from Daiku as Beri’s ample breasts topped his head and slid off.

“Daiku,” Dende admonished lightheartedly. “Sexless.” He pointed to himself.

Daiku rolled his eyes and clicked his teeth as Dende moved to the head of the bed. His hands glowed white and he stared down as he examined Bulma’s skull. “She had an aneurysm as well. That has to be healed first.” The glow of his hands changed, white light to softest gold. Dende’s eyes were closed now, and his breathing synced up with Bulma’s and the Queen’s. He hummed softly, a soothing tune, and swayed almost imperceptibly from side to side.

Beri and Daiku could only watch, as moments stretched into minutes that stretched on into an hour. Dende stood, swaying and humming and glowing – then stopped and fell straight to the floor.

Daiku rushed forward and hauled Dende up. “You alright?”

“She’s not Saiyan.” Dende blinked. “Close, but not Saiyan.”

“No. She’s not. She’s an Earthling,” Beri said, next to her husband in a flash. “Is that a problem, can you not heal her?”

“Oh, no, I fixed her brain. It was just… very different to a Saiyan brain. How long did it take me?”

“About an hour, I think,” Daiku told him.

“An hour! I’ve fixed worse injuries on a Saiyan in five minutes. No wonder I fell.”

“Do you need anything?” Beri asked, anxiously – the last thing she needed was another unconscious charge. “Some food?”

Daiku’s eyes lit up at the mention of food. He was starving. Dende, true to his story of his people’s ability to go without, requested only a large vessel of water, which Beri retrieved immediately. Dende drained the vessel completely, drinking it all down in one long gulp. “Can you fill this again?” he asked Beri, handing the vessel back to her.

When she returned with the vessel, Dende focused his ki over top of it, hands glowing that same golden light. The water changed from clear to a shimmering milky white. He handed the vessel back to Beri. “Take this vessel and pour the entire contents, little by little, into Bulma’s mouth. Make sure she swallows it. Tip up her head a little so she doesn’t drown.”

Beri’s hands shook as she took the Princess’s head in one hand and held the vessel in the other. Drown? I’m not a healing woman, I’m a house keeper and a dressing woman! Daiku crossed the room and took the vessel from his woman’s hands. “Hold her head. I will give her the drink.”

Beri tipped Bulma’s chin down and her mouth opened. “Yes, that’s about right,” Daiku assured her.

“Given a lot of unconscious people drink, Daiku?” Dende asked from the foot of the bed.

“I’m an arena fighter. People get knocked out all the time.”

“Don’t you have healing staff to do the healing?”

“I’m a nice guy.” He began tipping the drink into Bulma’s mouth. Bit by bit, Bulma swallowed down the drink, as Beri kept her head positioned just-so and Daiku poured in tiny measures. She never sputtered and after watching for just a little while, Dende was satisfied with their assistance and turned his attention to the Queen.

She was, to an outside view, just sitting with her eyes closed, breathing deeply and seeming peacefully. To Dende’s eyes, she was a storm of ki, a rapid flowing white water river in an endless loop through Bulma’s body and her own. The flow was still strong – it was actually incredible. In Namekians, it usually took two or three to do what the Queen was accomplishing on her own; one to heal the body, one to support the lifeforce, and one other to go into the spirt world to retrieve the injured person’s soul before it became completely disconnected from the body.

Dende wondered how long she’d been at it, and whether she’d been able to contact Bulma’s spirit yet.

---

 Bulma was laying on her bed, in their bedroom. Silver moonlight poured through the windows and she could hear the shower running in the other room.

“Vegeta?” she called out, but there was no response from the bathing chamber.

Bulma rolled over and stood up in the bed. There was wine and cheese on the bedside table, her clothes all over the floor, Vegeta’s suit thrown over a chair.

Are those my clothes?

Is this my bedroom?

Bulma wandered over to the bedside table and picked up a wineglass as a cloud slid away from the moon and the silvery light intensified. Bulma looked up at the moon in a haze.

What night is this?

At the edge of Bulma’s mind, she remembered that moon. Remembered that sky. Remembered this wine. She took a sip and her mouth was flooded with the juicy, jammy oak and cherry taste, smoke on the finish that lingered like Vegeta’s kisses down her neck.

“I know what night this is,” she said aloud. She recognized the white gossamer dress on the floor now – her tea dress. The antefasting battle had been announced and Vegeta had flown her high up into the clouds, away from the castle and away from the truth that couldn’t be unuttered. He’d whispered love into her neck, kissed it into her chest, slid it into her with his hands and his manhood. She remembered how the clouds swirled around them, how she felt as she flew with him.

She remembered feeling fear – of tomorrow, of the battle, of this ferocious and undeniable love – and she remembered feeling free and as happy as she had ever been.

After he made love to her under the silver moon, they’d come home to find the King’s proclamation on their door, and he’d ripped it into bits before picking her up and carrying her to their bed. She remembered how his eyes looked – soft and sweet and longing. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, setting her down gently on the bed.

He left the room and came back with a tray in his hands and a bottle of wine. “Beri left this out for us, I thought you might want dinn-“

Bulma had shed her dress and stood naked under the open window, facing him. Alabaster skin shining as the moonlight flowed around her every curve and through the tiny opening between her thighs. She looked like Elatha herself had descended from her kingdom on the moon to choose a lover from mere mortals. Vegeta felt unworthy to stand before her, so he crossed the room and got down on his knees, kissing her belly and sliding his hands up her legs, up her thighs, around the sweet swell of her soft hips.

Bulma ran her hands through his hair as he bent his head lower and lifted one of her legs up over his shoulder. She leaned back on the windowsill, standing on one leg and supporting herself on her arms on the window’s little ledge. He buried his face in her, nuzzling her most sensitive spots, diving into her with his tongue and running his fingertips over and in and around her wetness. She shook and quivered under his insistent but tender ministration, soon tightening her grip in his hair and throwing back her head, crying out in ecstacy as her standing leg gave out.

Vegeta caught her in his strong arms and laid her down before him on the floor underneath the window, where the moonlight lit her brilliant eyes and crystalline hair, before covering her up with his own body, consuming her entirely in a kiss and in his love.

---

 “Oh my.” Queen Pea snapped awake, muttering. “Oh dear. Oh my.” She was blushing hard and tried to hide her embarrassment from the rest of the room by covering her face with her hands. Daiku and Beri were on the bed, a little green man near its foot.

Wait a minute! Little green man!

“Are you the doctor?” Queen Pea cried out.

“Oh! You’re awake! Hello! Yes, I’m Dende.” The little green fellow smiled at the Queen. “Are you alright? You’re terribly flushed.”

“Ha ha,” the Queen laughed drily, “Yes I’m fine. The minds of the young are an… intense place. Who knew that the last time Bulma had had wine would have turned into that!”

“Into what?” Dende asked innocently.

“Nevermind that,” Daiku interrupted. “The Princess has consumed the drink, Dende.”

“Oh good. It should start to work very soon.” Dende turned again to the Queen. “Were you able to find her soul?” The Queen’s eyes widened and she raised a brow, regal but quizzical. “I know what you’re doing, of course.” Dende confirmed. “It’s a Namekian technique.”

The Queen’s face remained composed, a mask of indifference even though she felt caught out. Yes, it was a technique she’d learned from a few Namekian soldiers on a battlefield, long ago. But did he have to say it? Leave a Queen some mystery, thank you. “Yes, I have had contact with her soul several times, and the first physical tether was made just now.”

“Good! I have healed her brain injury and I will be removing the inflammation in her womb now before healing that area and the internal bleeding. She should be able to return to her body soon.”

Dende returned to the foot of the bed and to his work of making the Princess well again.

---

 The boy decided to begin with his father’s likely first target: the King. He was already at the castle and the King should be within it. He was also likely to be the most difficult to convince of the reality of their situation. Might as well work from the top down! The boy thought to himself, jumping from the rampart down to the castle door.

“Stop, Stranger.” The guard at the castle door halted him almost immediately. “What is your business with the crown in this late hour?”

“I seek an audience with the King. I am an emissary from a foreign government with information crucial to the King.” Well, kind of.

“What information?” the guard grilled.

“Information for the king, not for the doorboy.” The boy stood a little taller and looked down his nose at the guard.

“Very well. I will escort you inside. If the King has retired for the evening, you will leave the grounds and return in the morning, unless Saiyan blood will be spilt between now and then if this information is not received.”

“It is possible. I really need to speak with the King.”

“Come.”

The boy followed the guard past the wrought iron gate and into the inner courtyard of the castle.

[peevishmandible]

A few days ago my husband came downstairs a bit later than he usually does. It was his night off work, his Sunday, our Friday. I was cooking dinner in my for once mostly clean kitchen, it was getting dark out, the lights were on all mellow, the dogs and kids were chill and happy and they all clamoured to greet him the way they do every night and I just watched them while I chopped and stirred and had my nice cider drink.  When he came over to say hi to me I handed him his coffee - I do try to always have some ready for him when he wakes up, because it makes me happy to do that wee little thing - but he took it and put it down on the counter and just hugged me very gently and all encompassingly from behind and stilled my hands and said very softly and low that he was sorry it’s been such a hard week for me. And then I turned to him and had a wee cry and breathed deep and then we went about our evening.  He loves me so much this kind man. I’m very lucky.  My brother has been hospitalized for over two weeks now, is it? yeah. He’s kicking off his third week today. Yesterday he fought my mum and the doctor and then had a huge seizure. The day before that he had two fall down non conciousness losing seizures. Few days before that he spent most of the day having a-typical seizures and just wasn’t... there. He went for 13 days with no food. He’s eating a bit now but. Yeah like I said the last I heard was that he had a bad day, was strong enough to physically fight people, but then got all fucked up.  It’s been hard. It’s never easy when someone in your family is this sick, and - not being dramatic in the slightest here considering my brother’s many serious health issues - near to death. But I mean. There are so many layers of horrid shit in this situation for me.  I feel very selfish saying that. FOR ME. When my mum is the one whose child is sick. She told me about how she was sitting beside his bed quietly reading and holding his foot while he slept. He was too tired to talk to her but asked her not to leave him. Asked her to please hold his foot. His 32 year old size 12 foot. He needed his mummy One of the reasons it’s so hard is that I’ve been.... non contact with my father for let’s see here 3 years and 8 months. I haven’t spoken to him AT ALL I let him talk to the kids on video chat once like... fuck twice a year? I limit that, too, because hearing him can trigger me to pieces and because he has yelled at my daughter over the phone so bad that she went blank faced and wouldn’t speak for a fucking hour while she hid out in her room. I mean. He’s not a smart man. He’s mean like a snake. I haven’t spoken with my mother much the last few years either. I’d been feeling really shitty after speaking to her for a long time because - duh that’s how it feels when someone knows they are living with and loving your abuser and they don’t care enough about you to be bothered about it. When you’re having nightmares every goddamn night waking up crying and yelling because you had a dream about them beating you up or you get knocked on your ass by fear in the middle of the day when you’re a grown ass adult because you broke something and you KNOW your husband isn’t going to be mad and you certainly know he isn’t going to hurt you but your stupid scumbag BRAIN doesn’t oh no! When it’s your birthday and people giving you gifts makes you feel sick to your stomach because gifts mean bad things and GIVING them means utter rejection and ridicule because of the way He treated them and then your mother the person who is supposed to love you the most you know, she gets on the phone and tells you how NICE they are? What he got her for Christmas (ALL THE YEARS I HAD TO GET HER CHRISTMAS PRESENTS TO COMPENSATE FOR HIM *NOT* DOING IT OR GIVING HER CRAP LIKE MEN’S COLOGNE FROM THE GAS STORE ARE NEVER GODDAMN MENTIONED). How they like to sit on the porch and watch the geese at night (I DON”T GET TO SIT ON THE PORCH AND WATCH GEESE WITH MY MOTHER ANYMORE). How they go to the casino together (HE USED TO CALL ME UP AND TELL ME I WAS SELFISH WHEN *SHE* MADE PLANS WITH *ME* TO GO *GROCERY SHOPPING* WHEN I WAS A YOUNG MOTHER WITH 2 KIDS UNDER 5, A WEEKEND JOB, AND A HUSBAND WHO WORKED 12 HOURS A DAY. It was hurtful! It was hard! But I kept at it... until I goddamn got a call from her TELLING me she needed my social insurance number for HIM. For him to RETIRE. So he could LIE about something. Man, I cut off contact for months.  I never stopped sending photos of the kids. I’m not a monster. That would be cruel for one thing, and for another I genuinely want her to see my kids at their sweetest and happiest - not to fucking hurt her but to show her BITCH, WE”RE ALL JUST *FINE* WITHOUT YOU. I’m parenting the FUCK out my kids tyvm.  I’m calmer as a parent without her. I’m calmer without her input honestly. From this distance I see that she blames me for lots, frets at me without any good reason, is passive aggressive when she disapproves... I never saw any of that when I was close to her. Once, I gave my daughter a tiny sip of my grapefruit juice without telling her what it was - I didn’t even fool her, she just asked me for my juice and I gave it to her to see if she’d like it (she did NOT) - and I told my mum about it. Later that day she was brought home from school throwing up. My mother IMMEDIATETLY upon hearing asked me OH MY GOSH YOU GAVE HER GRAPEFRUIT JUICE DO YOU THINK THAT”S WHAT IT IS!?!? OH NO! Spoiler alert - wasn’t the grapefruit juice it was a stomach virus that laid half her class and our entire fucking family low over the next week. Shit like that, you know? Constant shit like that. We don’t have that relationship anymore where we share things much. Our relationship mostly consists of me sending pictures, and MAYBE explaining them. I’ve told her after the diagnosis about my son’s ADD and DCD. ONCE. I didn’t feel good after the call even though she was genuinely kind. I just got this fucking feeling that she felt quite smug that here’s my daughter coming back to her mummy, and fuck knows what she told her friends and my dad (and what HE told HIS fucking family). I let her know where we live and told her we were moving and again that had a lot to do with LOOK AT US MAN, WE HAVE AN ADULT WHO PROVIDES, TELL ME AGAIN ALL THE SHIT YOUR HUSBAND SPOKE ABOUT MINE ALL THOSE YEARS. LOOKA T WHAT *MY* KIDS HAVE - AND THEY’RE NOT AFRAID WHEN HE COMES HOME, EITHER.  It’s just. There are a lot of baser thoughts that go into this non contact and non close relationship shit you know? I’m not fucking noble - no one would EVER think that of me and they’d be right. I’m goddamn angry and I can be petty and to be quite honest I’m usually ok with that. I’m not 100% ok with BEING that bitch, but I am 100% that bitch.  So now we’re having to talk about my brother. And this last week and a half... lord we were genuinely afraid he was going to die. We never SAID that. We never WOULD. That’s against the fucking RULES. But she cried at me the once after a big set back - the big seizure day - and I comforted her. And at the end I told her “I love you. It’s ok. I love you.” I don’t. I hated myself for saying it. Not out of guilt but because FUCK that shit, I don’t. I really don’t think I do. And this lady was my only friend and comfort for half my life, my best friend - she said we were soul mates. To go from that to feeling gross because I said “I love you” to my mother while she was breaking down and I genuinely felt awful for her... That’s one helluva a fucking punch in the gut.  Here she is though telling me that the other day after seizures through which she had to hold him up against the wall of the hospital to keep him from falling with her 64 year old broken backed arthritic body that she was reading quietly while he slept because he asked her to please not leave him, that she was holding his foot - his 32 year old size 12 foot - like he asked her to, and I... guess I feel bad. I feel very badly. For her. Of course I do. No one knows better how deeply she hurts all these last 30 years not even my father because he’s a fucking piece of crazy shit. ME. I KNOW.  And I don’t love her. Do I? I don’t even goddamn know. There’s a blank space there. There’s a dissociation. It’s hard to tell.  I do know that I don’t love my father. And that no matter what he is feeling right now that he is also glad in his heart that I’m not there. He might feel the children’s absence. Personally as well as, you know. In the way a narcissist feels when rejected. Thwarted, embarassed. But I’m certain all the way through that he’s glad I’m not there.  So am I.  I’m sorry it's happening. I wish I could help my mother I wish I could help my brother even just to see him. But I don’t want to be there. For any of them. And then I cry at night because the fucking dissociating shield gets thin.  Shit’s complicated. What the fuck are fucking feelings for. 

[janeykath318]

Nothing But His Fish Bones 3

[tempexiii]

SUBSEQUENT MINDS PT.1

Temperance stood at the edge of the water, the glistening blue reflecting back at her the day’s toils of practice and study. Huffing, she flipped through her tome of Raen scripture. One of two to survive the attacks on her village when she was but a child. The other remained with her sister, and she in the past prayed both stayed safe. But as of now, she must pursue her own form of safety. Tis why her fingers intricately drew aetherial glyphs in front of her, in hopes her studies payed off. For the sake of her lover, her family…and herself.

-Such begotten insolence. There is no such thing as true safety. Only delayed truth that thine be able to enjoy such pitiful calm. Were it not for that wretch long ago, thou never would have known one another. He stole your bow. We stole his life. Or rather….we alleviated a blight upon our people. Just as Nhaama demands we rid the blights of Azim’s traitorous stains. Don’t you agree ASATO?-

“Such is no longer mine purpose. It ne'er was t’ begin with.” She growled quietly through clenched teeth. Her red eye flared to life, a brutal dark red glow. It was as if it had a life of its own, pulsing and angry. Such was the mark of what Nhaama “gifted” her old quarry of revenge. That’s what she was….a tool to be used by the Duskmother. A curse given to her unwillingly to atone for the sins of her ancestors…and one that even Nhaama herself refused to answer for. For be it not for the defiance of her great grandmother, that her own father would not be afflicted with the Duskmother’s curse…one that Temperance bore with shame, and yet was treasured to her. It defined her bloodline, and her soul. Rather…her halfsoul.

-Thou mean thine useless part. We both know thine cannot exist without me, I am what makes us strong. What makes us able to grind our heel down on those who would forsake us, and challenge us-

She needed her subconscious darkside to SHUT UP for two moments. With glyphs floating in place, she grit her teeth and poured her dark aether into the symbol. It bore the crest of her family as it drank deep of her given energies. She could feel the pull of her aether and soul to the glyph. It strained her mind, her vision going blurry even with her mother’s glasses on. Grunting, she focused on the mental faces of Utai and her child. A child she was happy was male. Takeo should not be part of her ancestors perceived transgressions. No. This had to end, even if she knew deep down it very well may not. But she could at least stave it off…long enough where others would not be victim to her–

-CHILD!! Thine know who the victim is, it is us. We are the ones who were wronged, who shall draw blood for all who crossed us. How many pathetic weak-willed men have strode up to you, eyes gleaming with authority over you and demanded their unrightful crafts? Or how many times have you held back slugging your workers or Utai when thine first met—

“BE QUIET!! You shan’t make my days darker any longer once I figure out how to rid myself of you.”

-HAHAHAHA! Thine cannot be rid of me. I am you, we are one. All you do is deny yourself that this is part of your true nature. An angry, bloodthirsty beast. One who knows no bounds of seeing others step on us, and who should be forever be known as someone who bears the mark of a dark wanderer. Thine fool thyself with this…pretentious facade of love and succor by thine mate’s hand. He doesn’t even know about us-

“Utai doesn’t ‘AVE t’ know about ye…not yet. Not until I can guarantee 'is safety from myself….” She surged her aether with all her might but her darkside fought. The glyph surged and warped as Temperance attempted to disassociate her darkside from her. She was out of practice though. Her darkside having gained a solid foothold as it lay dormant for the past year. Probably to watch and observe, coming out only more recently to provoke her into slipping from control.

The two parts of her soul struggled, yet while one, it was fragmented into a half of all her negativity and what it called “true�� nature. She was short-fused, quick to caution around others, a seldom giver of her time to those she deemed neccessary, a loner…and yet all that was tenfold and more which comprised of her darkside. A side she never wanted to truly have…while parts of her calculating brain understood why it existed, and how, she never wanted to succumb to what it would do if the roles reversed. But right now she wanted it dormant again. To leave her to live her life in peace….

As energy crackled around the glyph, a wispy form from the black and red tendrils of her aether could be seen through the light of the glyphs. A hand became solid. It flexed its shadowy fingers, and the head of the aetherial doppelgänger shot it forward to grip her arm. She yelped as the aether burned her skin, dark spidery lines twisting slightly up her forearm. Again gritting her teeth, she tried to concentrate on getting it out of her. Yet her eyes went wide as a shadowy version of her face appeared not a fulm in front of her. It’s twisted grin chilled her blood, and made her tail twitch in nervousness.

“Well done child. Thine managed to have us meet…face-to-face. This won’t sustain me, thine knows that. Nor shall it contain me. You can’t get rid of what we are. Nor do you want to.” With that she was mentally and physically slammed to the ground, a demonic sounding growl coming from the shadow. Her spine ached as she hit the ground, the focus broken and glyph shattered. Even as it was disappearing with her darkside it still held that sinister grin. One that would haunt her till the day she was able to contain or make it submit to her mind.

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

This case will be going to the grand jury

Okay

So what a grand jury does is determine via a jury panel of 12 or the local dictated amount, sometimes it is different -- in a closed private setting, if there is enough evidence for a probable cause to arrest the people for the crimes

Now I am told by Tree that this man whom was murdered was kidnapping for human trafficking and that is why he was killed.

Now I'm all about being anti racial crimes and modern lynching due to skin color

However SMS will show what he had done just hours before to these men. Where they all had been and what led up to the death of this man.

This is in February. I said and I said we would kill human traffickers.

This is a result of that statement

I wish it wasn't a black man. I do. I love black people all day long but we can't control what they do or do not do.

Due to the racial profiling and the claims that black are arrested unfairly we do have a higher rate of white people to do these killings.

This is to protect black people.

Killing one black kidnapper saves thousands and millions of African Kings, Queens, Princesses and Princes that will trust a black man to not kidnap them.

So I hope you do understand and I hope that the truth is shown and the truth is understood and justice is preserved in the grand jury

Had it been a group of black men killing one black guy it would been looked over as a gang thing. And ee don't want that either

So this video was purposely leaked to allow us to explain the choice of skin color that we use -- predominantly white (light) to protect Mexicans (Latino, Hispanic, Spanish) and African Americans

Because of white privilege.

It was expected and yet not hoped that this gossip would have happened. It shows the extreme damage in our communities.

And while this entire article is hurtful (and untrue) it does represent what police do.

I couldn't read all the words, they were so painful. Here we are trying all we can to protect innocent African-American and Latinx and still the screaming of indecency is arisen.

And yet we all still see the point. The Civil War was so long gone, no one who fought in it is still living. Yet daily it is still fought.

While y'all are not following instinct extremely close...

Y'all do recognize he was murdered ... He was murdered jogging ... And he was murdered for who he was ... But he was simply not just black. He was also a human trafficker.

Yes, my friends and my foes, black human traffic, too. Just like they deal drugs. Its "good" money meaning it is a lot.

I don't think I've called out a black person yet and this is the first. Just because I hadn't said didn't mean it ain't true

I've called out white people only. One girl and many men. Yet the Chinese and Asians have been attacked but I hadn't singled out one single Asian. Only white men (at that time it had began in Connecticut)

Yes yes yes Mexicans, Blacks, Whites, Native Americans they all human traffic

Native Americans are notorious for human trafficking. Y'all did not know that but they are. Agent Orange is 39% Native American. "Well they did it to us"

So you know it fucking hurts and you don't do it to other people, ass holes. But no. It makes them feel justified and right. They're not. They're shameful.

So this article is full of gossip and untrue words strung together to create bull shit.

I wish it was 3 innocent and good black man on one white kidnapper.... However the facts remain it was one African American Kidnapper that used people for humam trafficking

I am incorrect -- I have called out two African American Women for human trafficking --- Oprah Winfrey and Gayle King.

But this is the first male.

I also posted a video of actors that were all 100% human trafficking. And some were African American.

Now im going to tell you about Zulululu because of the high deaths of African Americans in this COVID crisis

Zulululu kill humans and then they take over their bodies. Okay.

So Zulululu are racist and ass holes. They are rapists. They have no respect for women. They male chauvinist pigs. They're disgusting.

So unfortunately I do believe that the Zulululu (and the other 3 planets as well) have already killed these Africans and then took over their bodies.

They did it to Michael Jackson. Alex Laughlin when he was Gaberial. Matt Hagan was my twin brother and he's been taken over by the alien in the film "White Boy Rick" that was Rick. He killed himself in jail to kill my brother to take over his body...

It makes me very sad. I want to cry.

Denise was killed and taken over by an alien. So the Zulululu uses my aunt's actual human body. Same with Nathaniel.

So it is very horrific.

So this huge amount of African Americans dying... Im sorry y'all but they ain't African Americans, baby. They ain't. Baby. They been dead a long time. And I am so sorry, i truly am.

That is why we have DNA4U. It dignifies your actual child or mom or aunt or uncle as alien or not. As human souls or some alien mouth breathing fool.

It is why all human bodies have COVID-19.

Because if you, my sista, get killed by an alien then the antibody "melts" caused by the alien soul and baby girl you ain't gotta be dead watching your body walk around no more. It's gonna die. And it's gonna die bad and it's gonna suffer. And you getta watch that alien panic.

So as soon as they alien soul enters the COVID activation occurs, your soul removing the antibody with you. Or thinking the body keeps it then the alien melts it. However you wanna look at it. IDC. However it occurs, idc. However its mutated in each individual idc. The mother fuckers ain't doing this shit no more.

So baby. Yeah. Y'all African American do have a 29% higher rate of Alien body take overs than the rest of the races. Next is Asian. Then Scottish, German, French, Polish, Swedish then general White from Europe.

Unfortunately they been trying to find me. Not knowing where i will pop up next, they infiltrate places I've been and have made a good life for myself.

Egypt, Outer Mongolia, Scottland as Queen Anne in the 1600s, I've been Joan of Arc, Cleopatra y'all know... So fucking many!

And they keep trying to find me to mate with me. But I can't. I can only produce children with my soulmate. Just like every other single human. Just like DNA4U proves.

Just like Zulululu can't even have children.

I can only mate with my soulmate

And it fucking kills me because they killed zillions and more than zillion of Chinese babies looking for me. And I never was born in China again. Because it was too dangerous.

I was never born in Africa again, it was too dangerous.

I was born in Detroit.. I was born in small town Alabama in a trailer park.

I was born in San Francisco. In London. In France. I've lived poor. Rich. Moderate. I've hidden quite successfully.

And yet... They destroy my people even still ...

So enter COVID 19 which is destroying my healthcare workers with PTSD. Because I don't get a chance to explain

Because the aliens keep getting in my way. Alex Laughlin. A fake Brian. Agent Orange. Eric Trump is always breathing down my neck. Denise. Nathaniel.

Its so fucking annoying.

And in my daily fights and struggles, my people are hurting.

So finally, a man with two stumps for legs because he deals with too many aliens for his nurse care, live in, and his soulmate is in jail for weed trafficking. I've known him off and on for 20 years. He posts a real human that is upset. I can see shes human. I just wanna hug her and take away all her pain. And Joey he says he just wants one miracle. He got it.

Finally the air cleared and I was able to break out and activate the healthcare substitute website and the mental health website especially for nurses and doctors to give them military training on acceptance of death which they get paid to learn. To encourage them to keep on trying. Keep reading, keep watching videos and keep caring about themselves and their mental health care.

For some it won't work. For some it just won't penetrate their brain. They can't hear it yet, they're not ready. But it will absorb if they let it. Each little particle of information that absorbs into their soul is just like that woman said -- it let's them be that one that is there for them because no one else is.

She's so beautiful. I mean shes pretty. She ain't painful to look at. But her words i just got goose bumps. Her beauty, "i wanna quit, but then they ain't got no one but me"

Girl. Y'all. I tell you. Every day. That's me.

I quit hundreds of times. "I fucking quit!! Fuck y'all!" Two days later I'm back at it. I can't stop.

Its that Orphan in me. It's that Queen in me, that Goddess of Earth.

At any rate. We're gonna stop this shit.

Racism. Its gonna stop.

Unfortunately COVID deaths of African Americans will not stop.

We have tried everything. Tricking a switch. "Okay alien just jump out and let her back in her body because she forgot something in there and she needs to get it" next thing we know its another car wreck and girl is dead and kicked out.

Exorcisms.

The Exorcist. That Horror film. All real.

We have tried it all m

And that is why we are in this horrific mess.

Luckily we got all kinds of shit planned!! Surprises around every corner and we are gonna get this done

We're gonna save Humanity, Ecology and the Earth itself.

We are gonna kill the souls of those from those four planets. Now it's gonna take time and its not gonns be fun.

But i got lawyers for the people that have been beat by cops finally assigned today! Yay!.

More than half of the 18,000 cops that are beating people for no reason have been killed today. Thank God for that and Tree of course and the snipers, Thank you.

And so this man in this article, unfortunately was ordered to die by me.

He was ordered to be killed by white people.

I don't want black men or Latino to be imprisoned for serving justice. White privilege is real.

All four planets for whatever reason decided to torture and bully and pick on African Americans.

Maybe because I'm white now... But i have to be white.. It's too dangerous to be black. Come on.. Yeah I used to black as Hell. But shit, a girl cant even walk down the street without being raped. Black girls are raped 4 times more than white. Asian girls are raped 6 times more often. 6 times! And they been killing most of them!!! So you know you gotta count that like every single Asian girl has been raped at least once.

They don't have it easy y'all! Stop picking on them!!!

Any way So there is a racial thing to the COVID but it's definitely not a human thing that is targeting them.

Y'all. Our African have already been killed and aliens are just walking around in their bodies.

So y'all don't cry no more.

Be mad.

Realize what's going on.

Alright so im telling you our families are dead and murdered.

Solution? Yes there is, in time.

We will ghost them back to life, creating bodies out of thin air for their spirits, their souls that exist.

Okay so i remember Alex Laughlin as Gaberial.... But Gaberial is Hispanic... And Alex looks French. So when the alien does take over it alters the physical characteristics of the original body.... But only slightly...

So some will request a dramatic overhaul of their appearance....

Okay say... Like Denise.... If Denise the real one looks too similar to the alien compound.... And we all hate her... Its simple to change the way she looks so that we don't ever see the old alien Denise when we look at the real Denise.

So she's been gone over 30 years..,

Gaberial 20

So its just like the changes that someone would make while growing up or growing old -- that is the way we look at it.

So i remember Gaberial as he was... And so he will change as he was only about 13 when his body was overtaken... So easy for him to have a new grown up self. Also same as easy to have him as original.

It all depends on the person and who did the alien take over and all that complicated stuff

So they analyze the complicated and we make it simple for compression of the new or old face.

And we allow it a choice and we say it is and it is respected and the person is loved.

Because that is humanity.

Again i apologize for the pain due to racism. The article does spell out the past and current situation especially with cops Here lately.

I was and still am totally with the Eric, "i can't Breathe" movement which ended in murder..

And that is why i am so angry.

But again. Please understand the justification of this killing and the reason we are using white privilege is to protect those that do not have white privilege.

We seize the opportunity. We don't make the opportunity. We use it.

Do please forgive me for doing so. I am only trying to protect the few good ones we have left because we all love you and we need you all safe!

I don't want yall in jail for a second for trying to save the world.