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valentineforlemonandcherry · 1 year

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Foxtail & Wolfsbane 40

Summary: Your lifelong obsession to hunt down the Nine-Tailed Fox has not gone as expected, and seventeen years later, you find yourself coming back to the place where it all started: Hogwarts. However, with Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban and Headmaster Dumbledore’s hire of a certain Professor R. J. Lupin, you suddenly find yourself intertwined in the fates of those with whom you thought you had parted ways with long ago.

[Multi-Post Story] [Rowan Scamander x Reader] [Remus Lupin x Reader] [Young Sirius Black x Reader] [Tristan Graves x Reader] [Severus Snape x Reader] *Note: Rowan Scamander, Tristan Graves, Susana Holmes, Cas Carneirus, Henrietta Weiss, Thomas Picquery, and Magdalene Clarke are OC characters.

Note: Part 40 does not contain any smut.

*Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!

☾ Click Here for Foxtail & Wolfsbane Home Page (All Chapter Links) ☾

Remus stood at the top of the hill, watching you. At long last, he had done what he’d always wanted to do, but never let himself – come after you.

As per usual, Remus was having the time of his life overthinking everything. What if this was overkill? What if it wasn’t my place to come after her like this? What did I mean by coming here, anyways? I mean, I know what I meant by coming after her. But what if she doesn’t wish for me to come after her like this?

Shut up, you, a rather wolfish voice snarled at Remus’ overthinking brain. Only she can tell you what she wants from you. Go to her. Go to her now.

Gathering his resolve, Remus finally made to step forward, to come down the hill towards you. It all would have made for a very romantic and heroic moment – except Remus had made the same mistake that you had of standing in one spot for too long. He tripped in the soft snow and lurched forward dramatically. Parchment sprayed into the air as Remus lost all sense of control over his own body and ended up tumbling magnificently down the snowy hill, in exactly the same path as you.

“Remus!” you cried out, suddenly breaking out of your nervous thoughts. For in that moment, seeing Remus rolling pathetically down the hill, you became quite certain that this was real life and that that was truly Remus. As Remus let out a loud “Oof!”, you recognized, yes, right, definitely not a hallucination rolling down the snow like that!

You ran up the snowy hill, but you couldn’t make it very far. Thankfully, since Remus followed the same line down the hill that you had, he rolled right to you. You caught him at the bottom of the hill. You hurriedly turned him over (you’d smushed him face-down into the snow a bit as you’d caught him) to check if he was all right. “Merlin, Remus! Are you okay?”

Remus blinked up at you. You saw his eyes wander up to the sky and he blinked even harder, shutting his eyes tightly before opening them. His mouth dropped open as he stared hazily up.

You urgently grabbed the front of his shirt. “Remus! Answer me – are you all right?”

“Er – to tell you the truth, I’m not quite sure,” Remus replied. “I’m – I’m somehow seeing four skies.”

“Oh.” You breathed out. “You’re fine.”

“I am?”

“Yes. Now sit up.” You helped Remus up. You brushed the snow from his face. You tucked his stray curl back up to join the rest of his hair (though it flopped right back out anyways). “Remus,” you said, still in disbelief, “what in the world are you doing here?”

Remus’ eyes flickered up to yours. He answered, in a steady, decided voice, “I came after you.”

“How did you know where to find me?” you asked. “I mean, how did you find this place?”

“You,” Remus replied.

“Huh?”

“Back at Hogwarts, you told me stories about an ancient forest and how it was renamed in modern times as a Japanese forest.”

“I told you about that?”

Remus nodded. “I remember because you were very excited the day you made the connection. You made me look at all of your maps and you nearly swallowed your quill whole.”

You stared at Remus, awed by how much he recalled.

Just then, Remus clarified, “Unfortunately, that was about all I could remember. I had to go to the library to do some research. See…” He began to rummage about in his pockets. Only, they were all empty.

You nodded at the stray pieces of parchment rolling merrily along the hills, going in every which way. “Was that your research?”

“Oh,” was all Remus said.

You laughed softly. “If it makes you feel any better, I tripped down exactly the same way you did.”

“I gathered that,” Remus replied. His eyes lingered on your face as he murmured, “You have snowflakes on your cheeks…” He reached out and hesitantly brushed the snow off your cheeks.

Oh, you thought.

“And your lips…”

The warmth of Remus’ fingers brushing over your lips made you stay very still, as you hoped that he would name another place on your face to touch.

“And your eyelashes…” Remus brought up both of his hands and gently cradled your face. You closed your eyes as Remus swept his thumbs over your eyelashes to brush your eyes free of snowflakes.

You breathed out slowly.

“There,” Remus murmured. He let go of you.

You opened your eyes. You were sure your cheeks were flushed, but so were Remus’.

“Ahem.” He coughed and turned his head away from you. “So this is the mythical realm?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you come back here?” Remus wondered. “Isn’t the Nine-Tailed Fox gone?”

“The Nine-Tailed Fox is gone,” you agreed. “Only I don’t understand. Why didn’t she take over my body? She evolves into her most powerful state when she receives her ninth tail. I know she did. I felt it. Her incredible surge of power. I even felt her immortality for a moment. She must be healthy and thriving, somewhere out there… But then, how am I alive? The bargain I struck with the Fox was that I would be the vessel through which she gained her ninth tail and she would grant your wish - ”

Remus made a sudden motion. But when you looked at him nervously, he immediately stilled. He watched you with an intense gaze, waiting for you to go on.

“But I woke up. I know I was asleep for a long time, but still, I’m awake. Then, I realized that Artemis was gone…” You gripped the hem of your jumper. “And the other day, Tonks told us about Rowan’s message: He said that he’d taken back all of his creatures, but there were other, new creatures. That’s when I began to wonder – to hope - ” Your hands turned into tight fists, bunching up the fabric.

Remus’ eyes flashed knowingly. “You think Artemis might be here.”

“Yes,” you confirmed in a fearful whisper. “But I can’t really explain why I think that and I don’t even know what to look for. It’s only an instinct.”

“It makes sense to me,” Remus said firmly. “Not everything that makes sense has to be logical. Clearly, just look at this place.”

“That’s true,” you murmured, feeling more hopeful since Remus seemed to understand what you were thinking.

You and Remus got to your feet. The two of you turned around uncertainly, taking in the vastness of the realm and the dizzying paradox of all four seasons existing in the same time-space all at once.

“I’m not sure where to begin,” you admitted.

“That’s all right,” Remus replied comfortingly. “This isn’t a bad place to take a walk, you know. Perhaps we’ll think of something along the way.” He made to step forward when -

“Ah, wait,” you said suddenly. “There’s something you should know. Time works differently here. When you leave, you may find that months or even years have passed in the real world. Maybe you should go back now.”

Remus’ brow furrowed. “Time skips?”

“Yes. So if you’re worried about that – if you have anyone waiting for you – you should go back.”

Remus shook his head lightly. “Never mind that. It’s all right.”

“But - ”

“I understand what you’re saying. I’m glad you told me, so I know. But the truth is, even if I went back to the real world right now, I’d spend my time worrying about you, anyways. So, it’s best if I stay with you.”

You fell silent. Isn’t Tonks waiting for him? Isn’t he worried about worrying her? A part of you – the narrow-hearted, jealous part – didn’t want to say anything, but your desire to do the right thing and your desire for Remus to be happy easily won out. You blurted out, “What about Tonks?”

Remus cocked his head at you. “What about her?”

“Is it all right to leave her?”

“Well, yes, I assume she’ll be busy with Auror exams.”

“Oh.” You felt yourself become even less certain of what to say. Finally, you decided to compromise. “Well, let’s do our best to be quick then. C’mon, Remus!” You grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward.

Surprised, Remus stumbled forward. Narrowly avoiding stepping on your heels, he tripped to the left. “W-Wait!”

Poof!

A muffled cry sounded out. You turned around frantically, only to find that you had tugged Remus right into another huge pile of snow.

“Hold on!” You hurriedly pawed at the snow, digging him out. When enough of the snow around him had disappeared, you grabbed his waist and yanked him out. You repeated, embarrassed, “Sorry, I’ll be more careful.”

While you were standing in front of him and apologizing for your short-sightedness, Remus suddenly recalled a previous time when this exact same thing happened. You’d dragged Remus out of Gryffindor Tower to celebrate the first major snowfall at Hogwarts. Overexcited, you’d pulled him right into a pile of snow. You’d done the same thing then as you had now – pulled him out and apologized. Afterwards, you’d gone to Hagrid’s to fetch Artemis and the two of you went racing off into the Forbidden Forest. Remus remembered being thankful for the snow because it tracked both of your prints so that he could follow you both into the woods. He couldn’t quite keep up with you and Artemis, as the two of you seemed to have an unspoken routine and easily bounded together over logs, rivers, and hills. You had only lost track of Artemis once, when you let her have a long head start to race off and hide from you. When that happened –

You caught Remus’ bright eyes at once. “What is it?”

Remus said excitedly, “I think I know a way for you to find Artemis.”

Your whole frame lit up with excitement. “How?”

Remus recounted, “Remember you put a little bell around Artemis’ neck? You used to call her whenever you couldn’t find her. You would lift your wand and say - ”

“Corusco!” you finished breathlessly.

“Exactly!”

But then, you wilted. “Oh… But I don’t have my wand anymore.”

Remus rummaged around in his pockets again. He let out a sigh of relief when he found his wand. He pulled it out and offered it to you. “Use mine.”

You took his wand with curiosity. Unfortunately, you could immediately feel that this wand rejected you. It did not consider you its owner, in any way. As you wrapped your fingers around it, a sharp sting ran up your hand.

“Ow!” You accidentally dropped the wand, as a stinging burn ran through your hand.

Remus started, surprised.

“Sorry,” you said. “But I don’t think your wand likes me, Remus. It zapped me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

You made to pick it up, but Remus stopped you. Not wanting you to get hurt again, he grasped your wrist to halt you and he picked up the wand himself. The wand slid naturally into his hand, fitting gracefully in his large palm and sitting easily in his long, graceful fingers.

“Here, let’s try this.” Remus stepped around you, until he was standing behind you. He held his hand out and told you, “Grasp my wand. Lightly now – and carefully, mind you.”

You gingerly picked up Remus’ wand from his hand.

“I’m going to hold my wand with you, so it’ll sense me,” Remus explained. He slowly folded his hand over yours. His hand covered yours, and suddenly, your hand was so warm, with his fingers covering yours and his palm nestled against the back of your hand.

Since Remus was quite a bit taller than you, he had to hunch over somewhat to keep the wand at a comfortable height for you to hold. He naturally shifted closer to you, until his chest pressed lightly against your back. You jolted slightly, nervous to have him so close to you.

Remus misunderstood; he thought that you were still nervous about his wand rejecting you. “Relax,” he whispered. His chin slid softly over your shoulder and he murmured into your ear, “If you trust me, the wand will lend you its strength.”

You breathed out, willing yourself to calm down.

“That’s right,” Remus encouraged you, speaking very softly. “You can do it. Channel your magic through me.”

You closed your eyes and leaned back a little against Remus.

Remus’ eyes flickered down to you. When he saw you leaning against him, he couldn’t help but think, Lovely, you’re still the same, aren’t you? You look just as you did when I first taught you the Patronus… You trusted me then. You trust me now – even after everything. I’ll give you my magic, Lovely. I’d give all of it to you, if I could.

In a quiet whisper, Remus told you, “Say the spell now.”

You took a deep breath and then you whispered fervently, “Corusco!”

Ring! Ring, ring, ring!

You gasped.

Ring, ring, ring!

“Where’s the sound coming from?” Remus wondered, looking this way and that.

You furiously scanned the many landscapes, too, until – “There!” you cried, punching your other hand into the air to point. Far out in the winter terrain, a silvery little figure came dashing forward. You had to squint to catch it at first, as it was quite a small figure. Once you caught a glimpse of it, though, you could follow its figure was it wove through the trees, flashing through the dark forest that covered most of the winter horizon. It had quite a ways to run – but that was all right, you could meet it halfway, because you were running towards it, too.

You sprinted forward as fast as you could. With each step, your heart became increasingly full of anticipation – until you cried out in a desperate, aching voice, “Artemis! I’m coming!”

All of a sudden, you came across a huge river which blocked your path. No! Please! Let me find a way to cross! Please, please, please! To your dismay, the river had no obvious crossing point and the current looked very fast. Worse still, since the riverbank was covered with tall flowers, you lost sight of Artemis.

Meanwhile, Remus was fighting against the same, tall flowers, trying desperately to find you. “Lovely! Where’ve you gone?”

“Here, Remus!” you called out.

Remus reached you. Instantly, he realized what the situation was and how distressed you were. “Oh no. He held out his wand again. “Do you want try once mo - ?”

Ring! Ring, ring, ring!

Remus cut off. Both of you lifted your heads and tried to peer through the thick meadow of flowers as the bright, clear sound of a bell rang out nearby.

“Art?” you called uncertainly, unsure of which direction the sound was coming from.

Ring! The sound was even clearer – meaning it was quite close.

Then – “Arf! Arf, arf!” A lithe, full-grown, yet still slightly small fox burst out of the flowers and tackled you to the ground.

“Artemis!” you shouted, recognizing her at once. Her fur was silver now, but there was no doubt that this was Artemis.

Remus started, flustered by how you’d been tackled to the ground. Only, you were too busy shouting with joy and rubbing your beloved fox all over her head and tummy, just how she liked it. “Art, it’s you! Oh Merlin, it’s you!” You sat up and threw your arms around her. Burying your face against her fur, you cried, “You’re alive!”

Artemis barked joyfully, happy to hear the sound of your voice, too. However, when she heard you say the word “alive,” she suddenly quieted.

You stilled, too, immediately noticing her reaction. You lifted your head.

Artemis turned her head and she looked at you knowingly. She looked as if she were waiting for you to catch on…

“You’re not alive, are you?” you realized. “That is, you’re not alive in the way you once were, the way I am…”

Artemis gave you a slow nod.

“You can’t leave this realm,” you recognized. “You’re a mythical creature now. You’re like the fox, before she got her ninth tail. You’re immortal, but you’re a creature of this realm.”

Artemis nodded again.

You breathed out. “How did this happen to you?”

Instead of answering, Artemis nuzzled you again, rubbing her now-silver little snout against your shoulder. You brought your hand up and petted her lovingly. But this time, you realized how cold she was and how she didn’t seem to have the same weight as she did before.

“Are you all right?” you whispered to her.

Artemis’ eyes turned into pleased little crescents as she smiled, in her own, mischievous fox way.

“Yeah? You’re happy here?” you confirmed.

Artemis let out a bright bark.

Your heart panged. You felt happy for Artemis, but you also felt sad because you realized that she wasn’t coming back with you. Still, you tried to be grateful just for this moment of reunion and for the fact that she was all right. “Okay, then,” you said softly. “That’s the only important thing, anyways.”

You slid your arms around her and hugged her again. “I missed you so much. Did you know that? I was so worried when I couldn’t find you.”

Artemis let out a small bark. You noticed how her bark was much more clear, even melodic, now. She truly is a creature of this realm. You whispered to her, “Guess you’re not my earthly fox anymore, huh? You’re my mythical fox now.”

Artemis wrapped her tail around your waist. She let out a happy purr.

“Oh,” you remembered, “that’s right. You always wanted to be magical. You used to chew at my wand all the time. It was basically a fox pacifier.”

Artemis grinned again – and she looked rather smug.

You laughed softly, finally sure that Artemis was truly all right. “So, you got your wish, after all. Good for you, Art.”

Just then, a harsh, unexpected bark sounded out from some distance away. “Woof!”

You started. Artemis bounded jubilantly to her feet and she replied with a welcoming bark of her own.

“Who is she calling to?” Remus asked you.

You shook your head, unsure. I expected Artemis to be here, but what other creature could possibly be here? you thought, surprised. Rowan said that he took all of his creatures back. So, what creature could it be?

Then, you saw it – a spry, but quite sizeable wolf was making its way deftly through the flowers. The wolf pushed its way past the final row of flowers and joined you, Remus, and Artemis.

Remus hurriedly pushed you behind him and held out his wand. But Artemis walked forward and nuzzled the wolf. Friend, Artemis was saying clearly, and she was right, for the wolf nuzzled her back. He was very gentle with her, pushing his snout lightly and affectionately against her small frame.

You stuck your head out and peered around Remus. What is that creature? Is it really a wolf? But why is it all silver? Is it a mythical creature, too? But it’s a different kind of silver from Art. Art’s a grey-silver and the wolf is a pure silver. You peered even more closely at the wolf. What’s that on it’s chest? Like an emblem… Hm, it’s a perfect circle. Is it just a coincidental mark?

Right at that moment, the wolf stopped nuzzling Artemis. He straightened up to his full height and looked at Remus.

“What? What do you want?” Remus said apprehensively.

The wolf let out a single, gruff bark.

Your eyes widened. A perfect circle – it’s a moon! A full moon!

“Remus!” you gasped, shocking him. He nearly stumbled back. You caught him, as you said breathlessly, “That’s you!”

Remus turned his head so fast he nearly bumped your head. “What?”

“That’s your werewolf spirit! Look! There’s a full moon on its chest!”

Remus whipped his head back around and he looked closely at at the wolf’s chest. When he saw the symbol and recognized it as the full moon, his breath caught. “You’re saying that’s me?”

��Yes,” you said, certain of it now. “That’s your werewolf spirit, Remus. So, this is where he came to, after he left your being.”

Remus knelt down, peering at the wolf. In a trembling voice, he whispered, “You’re me…?”

The wolf walked up to him.

Remus shivered, but he stood his ground and remained crouching, so he could come face-to-face with the wolf. The wolf was quite an impressive size, and when he moved, his strength could be felt and seen in his movements. Soon, the wolf was face-to-face with Remus.

Remus put his wand down and lifted his hand.

The wolf slowly pressed his snout against Remus’ hand.

When the wolf’s nose touched Remus’ palm, Remus breathed out suddenly. “Merlin, it’s really you. I can feel the energy of the full moon coursing through me.”

The wolf blinked up at Remus. Their eyes met.

Remus swallowed hard. Then, he whispered darkly, “But you’re a monster.”

Offended, the wolf let out a harsh breath and immediately turned its head away from Remus.

You held your breath, suddenly afraid.

“You made my life so difficult,” Remus continued in a harsh, bitter whisper. “You were the reason why I was always ill, why my family broke apart, why I could never get a job, why I’m a burden to all my friends, why I could never allow myself to love someone, why I questioned whether life was worth living, why I hated myself…” Tears slowly dripped down Remus’ face. He whispered, in an utterly broken voice, “But seeing you like this, as a true wolf, all I can do is pity you. I denied every instinct and craving you ever had and I blamed so much of my own failures on you. I’m sorry for our miserable existence. Still, I couldn’t give into you. Don’t you see? I had to resent you.” Remus broke down, sobbing.

You fell to your knees beside Remus and you hugged him tightly. “Sh, Rem,” you whispered kindly. “It’s all right. It’s okay to hurt. God knows how long you’ve held this all in.”

The wolf let out a displeased snort. He made a sudden motion, as if to take off. However, Artemis let out a low whine. She nodded her head at you. The wolf stared at Artemis, then at you, and then back to Artemis. Artemis nodded again. The wolf’s curiosity got the better of him, and he began to sniff at you.

Hearing the wolf, Remus lifted his head. When he saw the wolf coming closer to you, Remus quickly wiped away his tears and pulled you close to him.

“It’s all right,” you reassured him. “He’s not going to hurt me.”

“Are you sure?” Remus asked you, his voice cracking even in that short phrase.

You nodded. It was your turn to gently put your hands on his cheeks and to cradle his face. You assured Remus, “You’re not going to hurt me.”

The wolf was now sniffing at the hem of your cloak. You turned your head towards him. “Hello,” you said pleasantly. “We’ve never met.” You paused and amended, “Not properly, anyways.”

Remus shamefully looked away from you. You tightened your hug on Remus, but you kept talking to the wolf. “You’re friends with Art, I see. I’m glad. I was forever trying to teach Art to like you when you were with Remus, but I’m not sure Art ever really took to Rem. Now we know for sure that it was Remus that Artemis didn’t like and not you, huh?” You laughed, finding the thought quite funny.

The wolf looked at you skeptically. Clearly, he didn’t trust easily. Still, he seemed satisfied enough with you as he made his way back to Artemis. When Artemis saw him coming back, she bounded forward happily to meet him. The wolf tried not to appear too pleased at first, but when Artemis managed to lick his face, the wolf clearly softened. He laid down on his tummy so Artemis could lick his face without having to jump up.

You smiled. “Look, Remus. They really are friends.”

Remus didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened as he watched Artemis and the wolf together.

After a moment, the wolf stood up. He let out a soft, but quite low grumble. Artemis’ ears and tail perked up. Then, with a merry yelp, Artemis took off. The wolf waited patiently for about ten seconds and then, with a powerful leap off of his hind legs, he was off, too. Artemis’ barking got louder and louder the closer he got to catching up, until she was barking furiously, clearly laughing in her own way, as he managed to catch him to her.

Then, the most incredible thing happened. As Artemis and the wolf (Lupin, you thought in your head) ran through the field together, the flowers immediately around them began to light up with a silvery glow and to ring.

You gasped when you realized that the flowers were snowdrops. The Nine-Tailed Fox’s crystal-clear melodic voice, Artemis’ old bell sound, the snowdrops… All of it has come together.

You and Remus got up onto your feet and both of you in the magical sight of the field of snowdrops lighting up and ringing its merry winter bells as the two forever-mythical spirits ran off into the wintery forest. Though you didn’t know it, they were running back home, to a small, warm cave at the foot of the mountains. The entrance to the cave was framed with tiny, white foxtail ferns and a single, sturdy wolfsbane plant guarding the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Neither you nor Remus were quite yourselves as you headed for the door leading back to the real world. However, when you neared the doorway, you caught sight of something that shocked you back to your senses. You grabbed Remus’ arm and squeezed hard.

“Is something wrong?”

You nodded up ahead. “Look at that.”

Incredibly, where there used to be only a silver glimmer – all but undetectable unless one knew to look for it – there was now a proper doorway. It was floating in the air, but it was very clearly a metal doorway. What was more, it was framed with white and pink flowers. It looked like the flowers had grown up and around the metal doorframe.

Oh, you realized, so that’s why there were white and pink flowers framing Remus when he first appeared. He was stepping out of the door.

“A doorway,” you said, awed. “That wasn’t there before.”

“It wasn’t?”

You shook your head. “I wonder if that means…” You hesitated. “Remus, will you hold onto my hand? I want to try something, but please pull me out if I ask you to of if I scream.”

“Scream? Why? What are you planning to do?”

“I just want to test this door.”

“Are you sure it’s all right for you to do this?” Remus said nervously, following you to the door. “Can’t we throw a branch through it? Or can’t I do it instead?”

“No, no, I’m sure it’ll be all right,” you said. “Now, please hold my hand.”

Remus took your hand in both of his and clutched onto your hand tightly.

You stood before the doorway and then you carefully put your hand through the door.

Whoosh! You gasped when you suddenly felt a rush of wind hit your hand.

Taking no chances, Remus immediately yanked your hand as hard as he could. You were yanked right into his arms. “Oh!” you breathed out.

“Are you all right?” Remus said urgently. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m fine.” You laughed. “Sorry I made you nervous.”

“But what was all that about?” Remus asked you. He didn’t seem aware of the fact that he was all but crushing you in his arms, even though he had to look down far enough that his chin almost touched his chest as he peered down at you.

“I wanted to check if that doorway was a stable doorway to the real world,” you informed him. You put your hand on Remus’ chest and he instinctively relaxed, letting you go a little.

“And is it?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yes. There’s no doubt about it. The wind I felt was wind from the real world. Even more incredible, it’s stable enough that people can come and go as they please.” You frowned slightly, though, as you wondered, “But how could a door be built here? I thought it was condition of a time crystal that it be totally independent of all other notions of time.” You looked up at the sky. Remus followed your gaze, tilting his head up to the sky too.

“It must have something to do with how there are four seasons here now,” you guessed.

“What do you mean?”

“It used to be only winter here. And there were no creatures. Well, Rowan’s creatures were here, but they weren’t of here, strictly speaking.” When you mentioned Rowan, you suddenly had an idea of what might have happened.

You stared once more at the doorway. This time, instead of paying attention to its structure or the beautiful flowers gracing it, you looked closely at the metal. It looks like the same metal that Tristan’s watch was made of, you thought. Hm…

Remus’ voice broke into your musings. “Shouldn’t we get out of here? I don’t mean to rush you, but now that we know Artemis is all right and if we’re worried about time skips…”

Ah, right. Remus has to get back – to his real life and to Tonks, you remembered. “Right.” You stepped away from Remus, slipping out of his warms. With a small sigh, you murmured, “Back to the real world we go.”

I shouldn’t be sad, you reminded yourself. I’ve found Artemis and Remus has found his happiness. This is what I wished for, after all. It’s all right if I’m going back alone. Even if Artemis can’t come back with me, even if the Nine-Tailed Fox is no longer in my soul, and even if Remus is with somebody else, I know I’m strong enough to find my own way.

Standing in front of the doorway, you reached out to Remus and said warmly, “Thank you, Remus, for coming after me.”

Remus slid his hand into yours. Grasping his hand, you stepped through the doorway, and the both of you returned to the real world.

* * * * * * * * * *

As it was, Tristan’s watch, which Rowan had planted in the ground near the doorway, had grown to create the metal doorway.

The fundamental principle empowering the Graves’ metal magic was fate. Fate is a stable concept of time because it constitutes a prior determination. However, fate is also a flexible concept because it can accept the notion of ‘progress’ within it without losing its original meaning. Fate is the confines within which humans exert free will. As such, the metal of Tristan’s watch introduced a notion of determined progress, of circularity, without breaking the notion of ‘eternity’ that the ice phoenix’s heart was underholding (and which underpins the very existence of this realm). In this way, progress is accepted as a ‘part’ of eternity so long as it remains pre-determined and circular – in other words, so long as it does not introduce change into the environment. Thus, the four seasons occur all at once here.

And where did the seasons come from, you may wonder? Well, just as the mythical realm influenced Rowan’s creatures, so those creatures influenced the mythical realm. As Newt and Rowan always said, magical creatures are more powerful than wizards and witches in the magic that they produce. Frank had forged a summer for the mythical realm – a summer full of dazzling thunderstorms, but with an even brighter sun. Nula had offered the colors of her lovely, exuberant ruffles to create the autumn foliage of the mythical realm. And Sil had given his iridescence, playfulness, and adaptability to craft a blessed, twinkling, though slightly mischievous spring. They had left something of themselves here in this mythical realm: seeds of their spirits. However, it was only after Rowan planted Tristan’s watch into the ground that those seeds sprouted into the full being of four different seasons.

‘Infinity’ now took on a new meaning in the mythical realm. That was how the mythical realm, created by the ice phoenix and protected by the Nine-Tailed Fox, was not only restored and taken back from the succubus, but revived and reinvented into a much livelier place, where myth was invited to explore and grow itself, rather than simply being frozen for the sake of being preserved.

As for the Nine-Tailed Fox, she had in fact returned briefly to guide Artemis’ spirit here. When she arrived, she felt the ice phoenix speak to her soul. My, my. Look how you’ve grown. A full Nine-Tailed Fox. Your family would have been very proud of you.

The Nine-Tailed Fox held her head up proudly and swished her gorgeous, full tails. She playfully showed off before the ice phoenix, who laughed merrily. But then, the Nine-Tailed Fox noticed the four seasons, and she gasped aloud. Seasons! There are seasons in the mythical world?

Yes, there are.

How your heart has grown, my friend, the Fox whispered, almost afraid of her happiness. You don’t even need me to be a guardian of this world anymore, do you?

No, the ice phoenix agreed. You are free to wander wherever you’d like without having to worry about this realm anymore. He sighed. I’m sorry, my old friend, I never meant for this realm to become a burden for you. I’m glad you’ve found your true freedom now.

Please don’t, the Nine-Tailed Fox replied. You kept me alive by giving me a home, both in life and in sacrifice. When I had no mother or father to run to, no tails to hide in, you lent me your wings for comfort. You wrapped them around me as though I were your own. That was how I survived those long years. I may be free but my heart is always with you, in this wonderful realm that you’ve created and hold steady. That’s why this little fox, Artemis, will be able to live there.

At this, the ice phoenix chuckled. So, you brought her here.

The Nine-Tailed Fox blinked. That’s how it worked out.

The ice phoenix observed, She’s quite a young spirit.

Yes.

And she’s in love.

Is she?

Yes. A wolf spirit came after her, you know. He arrived just now, on the other side of the mountains. They’ve just met, and yet they’re clearly in love.

The Nine-Tailed Fox smiled an elusive, mysterious smile. Well, well, imagine that.

Yes, just imagine.

The Fox’s tails swirled in the air. Her paws itched. She was ready to take the many universes out there by storm.

Go, the ice phoenix urged. Live your destiny. You’ve earned every right to be the true Nine-Tailed Fox that you are.

I’ll come back soon, the Fox promised.

Don’t. Be happy. Be free, the ice phoenix said decidedly. Besides, you’re immortal and I’m eternal. We will meet again someday. Until then, I’m happy to wait. I’m happy imagining your freedom. It’s how I’ve always wanted to spend my eternity.

The Nine-Tailed Fox lifted her head and howled. It was a powerful sound. The force of her howl caused a gush of wind to rush over the mythical world. Lightning crackled in the summer world; new flowers burst into bloom in the spring world; the variegated foliage shivered mightily, all at once, in the autumn world; and out in the icy, winter world, a small fox and a weary wolf howled together in reply, the way they might howl at a moon.

The Nine-Tailed Fox’s eyes glimmered brightly. Her lips pulled back and she bared her teeth ferociously. A low, thrumming growl ran through from the tip of her nose down to each of her nine tails. Then, the Nine-Tailed Fox bounded up into the sky. There was a bright, silver flash and a busy flurry of nine tails swishing brightly in the four-colored sky – and she was gone, off to live the spiritual adventures befitting a true Nine-Tailed Fox.

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter imagine #foxtail and wolfsbane #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders era

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writernopal · 1 year

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🍄Chanterelles🍄

A study that I did today focused on bringing dynamic elements to dialogue and writing the dreaded duel/action scenes. I'm not sure if this will make it into AASOAF 3 as canon material but I figured I'd take this as an excuse to practice a bit of characterization with Magdalene and Sartor since they are newcomers to the cast! Enjoy or don't! Do whatever you want!

WC: 2412 CW: animal death, language, mild gore, violence Characters: Mariel, Axtapor, Magdalene, Sartor

The forest came alive around us with the gentle din of the barely waking fauna, fog still rolling between the trees. The scent of pine and other such stout evergreens filled my nose pleasantly as the leaves of their deciduous neighbors crunched beneath our careful and deliberate steps. His just a few feet ahead of mine, confidently leading the way as if these forests had hosted him his entire life.

“It’s a lovely morning,” I remarked with a smile, hoisting my skirts in my hands as we went.

“Quite! I told you it was worth slipping away!” Sartor called back, “See there?”

I took another step through the thickets, steadying myself with a single forearm against a nearby tree. He pointed down a gentle slope to a small, shaded clearing. Even from here, I could see the chanterelles we’d been searching for dotting the landscape. Plump and yellow, like meaty spring flowers.

“How did you know there would be so many here?” I asked, coming to stand beside him.

He dropped his arm and let out a satisfied sigh. “Trade secret, I’m afraid.”

“O-Oh.”

He tossed a glance my way and barked a laugh. “You see those logs? With the moss?”

I nodded.

“They like to grow on those.”

“Is that so?”

“The woods here are just like the ones outside of Eves Moore. They are easy to find there too.” He started his way down the hill. I followed. “I spent a lot of time in those woods.”

“Because the town was so lackluster?” I teased with a smile.

He laughed and turned around, walking backward as we neared the bottom of the slope. “Of course! What are towns compared to bundles of fungus?!”

I giggled as he turned back around and made for the nearest patch of mushrooms. “My goodness, there are so many!”

“Mhm!” He exclaimed as he knelt down, fetching a small curved knife from a pouch at his waist. He began to cut at the base of a few mushrooms with a practiced ease.

“Oh, what sort of knife is that?” I asked as I knelt down at a cluster close by the one he’d chosen. I pressed down on my skirts as they puffed out to settle them around me.

“A foraging knife.” He replied in a focused manner as he freed a few mushrooms from the log they’d made their home on, “Ser Achart said I shouldn’t waste battle-tested steel on plants, so I saved up my silvers and bought this first chance I got.”

“Have you noticed a difference since using it?” I asked, pulling the small dagger Axtapor gifted me from the belt at my waist. It was rather different from his—pointed and sharp, similar to a paring knife.

He shrugged. “It’s mostly the same. I suppose the hook on the end helps get closer to the base of the plant. A more precise cut.”

“Hmm.” I turned my attention to the cluster of chanterelles before me. With one hand, I delicately gripped the head of a single mushroom and, with the other, sliced away at its base. Once freed, I tossed it in my basket and continued, making my way all around the cluster.

“But it still takes just as long…” His voice traveled as if he’d just turned his head to one side. “In any case, it makes Ser Achart happy I’m not dulling valuable steel anymore.”

“She seems rather particular. Axtapor uses his knives for just about anything.” I lowered my head to peek under the crown of a shorter mushroom.

He chuckled. “He’s not a knight.”

“That’s true, but he is skilled and knows all about different weapons…and he’s rather resourceful.”

He tossed another mushroom into his basket and fixed his eyes on me. I didn’t entertain the look, pretending instead that I’d not seen it.

“Look, I’m not going to argue who is better between Ser Achart and Lord Oxlo—”

“Lord Axtapor.” I corrected him as I placed the final mushroom into my basket and wiped my knife clean, “In the Empire, men are addressed as ‘Lord’ followed by their first name.”

“Well, we’re not in the Empire. And here, men are addressed as ‘Lord’ followed by their surname.” He countered from his squatted position.

I stuck the knife into my holster and smiled pleasantly at him. “Lord Axtapor.”

He wiped his knife clean and stowed it away in the pouch it had come from, tossing me a tight-lipped and capricious smile. “Lord Axtapor.”

A small but forced laugh rose from my throat as I got on my feet and dusted my skirts off. He returned it with more zeal, clearly attempting to project some superiority. I cleared my throat as I made my way to the next patch of mushrooms, doing my best to conceal a frown.

“As I was saying, I won’t argue who is better between Ser Achart and Lord Axtapor. That wouldn’t be fair to your lord. He falls sorely short behind my ser.” He said as he overtook me with a self-satisfied look on his face—eyebrows nearly risen into his hairline and eyes closed in a carefree way.

“Ser Achart is quite brave, but I don’t believe she can count the storming of Seyes Palace as one of her many achievements,” I said as we knelt down to collect more mushrooms.

“Nor can you count leading a battalion of six hundred men and sacking the city of Catelesmar among Lord Axtapor’s.” He replied in a huff.

“Axtapor is an expert sailor.”

“Magdalene knows how to steer a chariot.”

“Well, Axtapor is a talented hunter!”

“Magdalene is too! And she’s a great shot!”

“As is Axtapor!”

“Well—!”

A threatening growl vibrated its way through the air. I froze, as did he.

“Did you hear that?” I asked in a whisper.

He quickly nodded. “We have to get out of here— Gods above! Mari! Run!” He yelled as he abandoned his basket and shot up to his feet, pointing at something behind me in a panic.

I looked over my shoulder and screamed. A massive bear was charging straight for us! I scrambled to find my footing as the pounding of the creature’s giant paws could be heard behind us. Sartor danced on impatient and fearful feet, shaking his hand in my direction.

“Hurry!”

I clapped my palm to his and he swept me off my feet, carrying me under his arm as one might an oversized bedroll. Our screams bounced with each step he took, staying just ahead of the bear’s roaring. I chanced a glance back and saw the mass of brownish-black fur bounding after us, somehow gaining speed.

“Sartor, faster! It’s catching up!”

“BEAR! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!” He shouted at the top of his lungs.

At first, I thought he was silly for doing that, but we weren’t that far from camp. There was a chance someone might actually hear us and come to our rescue.

“Help!” I screamed, “A bear! There is a bear!”

“ORRAN BE BLESSED, A BEAR!” Sartor continued.

I drew in another breath to call out for help once more when I noticed that we’d not gone up the hill we’d come down. “W-Wait! Sartor, where are we going?!”

“Away from the bear, you little idiot!”

“This isn’t the way back to camp!”

“Who cares! We outrun the bear first, then figure out how to get back!” He said, tossing a glance behind him.

“Look out!”

“Shit!”

We collided hard with a wooden fence, bursting through it on impact. Each of us grunted in pain as we tumbled across the nearly bald but grass-covered ground. My instinct was to lay there nursing what would surely become many bruises, but there was no time for that now. I struggled to my feet, bumbling my way over to Sartor, who was now limping.

“Your leg!”

“I know! Keep going!”

“No—!”

We screamed as the bear roared once more, barreling its way through the broken fence. I grasped Sartor’s tunic, struggling to pull him along. The fence meant we were close to town, we just had to keep going!

“Come on!” I shouted.

“Just go!”

A flash of lavender painted itself across my vision. A familiar and fierce hissing followed as I watched Axtapor collide against the bear’s body. I shrieked, both out of shock and worry, as the creature shook off the blow and ran toward Axtapor. He whirled around, sidestepping the creature, and struck it decisively with his tail. It bellowed painfully as Axtapor faced it once more.

“Stand clear!” A voice called out from behind us, accompanied by the galloping of angry hooves.

I whipped around, catching the surprised and awe-stricken look on Sartor’s face before laying eyes on the heroic-looking Ser Achart. She was seated astride on her dappled mare, dressed in riding pants and a loose tunic, an arrow-knocked bow resting against her cheek. Sartor pulled me out of the way, landing us both in the grass. I braced myself against his arms, trembling as the bear reared up on its hind legs. It was nearly a foot taller than Axtapor.

“Take the bloody shot, Achart!” Axtapor called out.

He and the bear collided. Axtapor hissed, the comb on the back of his head, neck, and spine raised threateningly as his tail whipped violently behind him. The bear roared, beating him over the head, neck, and chest with its massive paws. Pained grunts flew from Axtapor’s throat as his muscles knotted angrily beneath his scales. He struggled to steady himself beneath its blows.

“Take the damn shot!” He commanded. This time a high-pitched cry escaped him as the bear planted a bite on his shoulder, shaking its head to tear his flesh.

“Axtapor!” I screamed.

With some summoned strength, he gripped the bear’s fur, lifted his feet off the ground, and sliced into its belly with his claws. The bear released him as it cried out—the two stumbled back, reeling from the exchanged violence. Axtapor stiffened his tail against the ground to hold himself upright as he struggled to catch his breath. Ser Achart rode in an arc behind Axtapor and fired two quick shots at the creature. But they did not more than enrage it.

It charged forth once more, rising as before, but this time Axtapor did not grapple with it. He launched himself at the beast, clamping his jaw shut around its neck and burying his claws into its shoulders and chest. It wailed loudly, struggling to separate itself from Axtapor. My eyes darted to Ser Achart just as the bowstring’s twang cut through the chaos. Both the creature and Axtapor hit the ground with a dull thud.

“No!” I wrestled myself free of Sartor’s grasp and ran toward the heap where they both lay.

“Mari, wait! It’s not safe!” Sartor warned.

The bear’s body began to twitch, stopping me in my tracks—a loud growling, the knocking of another arrow, and then a triumphant scream. Axtapor threw the bear’s corpse off of him, announcing his victory over the beast with violent coughing. He sat up and spit out some gruesome mix of flesh and fur, wiping his gore-stricken mouth with his forearm. I’d never felt more relieved, despite how covered in blood he was. I was just glad to see him alive. I glanced at the bear, spotting the final arrow buried deep in its eye. The blood drained from my legs, and I dropped down to the ground.

“What were you two thinking?” Ser Achart scolded as her boots hit the grass.

She was standing just beside her mare, arms crossed with a frown on her face. The horse, no worse for wear or nerves, had already started munching on the grass at its feet.

“We— we were collecting mushrooms…” I admitted like a caught child.

“At sun up? Told ye’s nay to venture out at this hour.” Axtapor chided, still panting from the ordeal as he found his feet.

“The patch is just a mile from camp. We were about to come back.” Sartor retorted as he rubbed his injured leg.

“These woods are dangerous. You should have taken an escort.” Ser Achart continued.

“We were just foraging.”

“Sartor.” I hissed and shook my head at him, hoping he’d understand that we were in serious trouble.

“No at sun up, ye daft cunt!” Axtapor yelled, “Ye nay even know these woods proper! If’n we had no turned up as so ye’s both would have been dead!”

Ser Achart flicked her eyes at Axtapor but didn’t seem to disapprove of his choice of words or the volume at which he expressed them. Sartor looked like he was already trying to nurse his ego back to health, so I doubted he’d have more to say.

“We’ll be more careful next time,” I replied, fighting away tears as I observed the bite mark on Axtapor’s shoulder.

“There will no be a next time,” Axtapor replied at a lower volume, clearly doing his best to avoid frightening me. He bundled a kerchief to his wound, grimacing as he put pressure on it.

“It was an accident…” I pleaded softly.

“You will take Ser Fonsa with you next time.” Ser Achart said, eyeing Axtapor with a nearly imperceptible scowl as she put a cape around my shoulders, “Let’s go.”

“Get the bear.” Axtapor barked at Sartor.

“My leg is injured.” He replied with a sneer as he got on his feet with some effort, “Come on, Mari.”

“Sartor, he’s hurt,” I said.

“Why can’t we just leave it here?”

“Creature as so nay needed to perish! Least we can do been to honor it by usin’ it whole. Now do as ye been told and gather it to ye!”

Sartor tossed an incredulous look at Ser Achart, who was waiting patiently on horseback. Her quick absolution from the conversation was surprising, even though I supposed it was in her nature to do something like that.

“I’ll help—”

“Nay. Let him handle it. Go on.” Axtapor gestured toward the camp with his chin.

I chewed my lip and did as he asked, listening as Sartor struggled but eventually heaved the bear across his shoulders.

The camp ate from the creature for several days, its fat was rendered, and the pelt was made into a fine coat for me. Less as a gift and more as a reminder not to wander off again. So that was the last time Sartor and I foraged together unsupervised…that they knew of.

#my writing #writing community #writeblr #aasoaf #axtapor #mariel #magdalene #sartor #cw: animal death #cw: language #cw: mild gore #cw: violence

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dailysongsweeklyalbums · 9 months

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Cocaine Jesus

artist- Rainbow Kitten Surprise

album- RKS

release- 2015

vibe- indie folk/alt rock

“Listen in, it isn't when you're talking for your name's sake

Jesus, Mary Magdalene you are, are you okay?

Sitting by the well, Jill, your falling down the hill, Jack

And everybody laughed

Don't you pray? Don't you pray?

To a Cocaine Jesus in a black four-seater

Got a man, don't need him, but you wait

Call me when you want, or just call me when you need it

If you only ever need it for the day

High won't hold, won't hold, and I have no more

Than all you left of me

I have, I have, I have no more

Than all you leave

High as hell, feeling fine, nothing bad but nothing kind

Not a word from me, at least nothing you would mind

In my head, in my head, I get lonely sometimes”

day 29- 12/18/23

#daily song #song of the day #day 29 #rainbow kitten surprise #rks #cocaine jesus #indie folk #alt rock #Spotify #song recs #music recs

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chirhos · 2 years

Note

top 5 saints (bonus! why them?)

5. Saint Paul - this is controversial!! but the more I learn about him the more I like him. He's got some absolute bangers in the epistles, and I have to say I'm becoming a fan

4. Saint Maximillian Kolbe - really, what greater love is there than to lay down one's life for one's friends? I cry every time I think about him

3. Saint Oscar Romero - I listened to a podcast about him by a Jesuit brother, and I so admire his commitment and values

2. Saint Mary Magdalene - one of the first ever Christians! I love her interactions with Jesus in the gospels, and I wish she was better celebrated within the church

1.Saint Joan of Arc - I know this is INCREDIBLY basic, but even when I was Calvinist I just felt so drawn to her. A brave, tough, gender-nonconforming young woman who literally changed the fate of nations - little weirdo tomboy Olivia was obsessed. I read sooo many books about her in middle school

honorable mention goes to Saint Brigid of Kildare - a lot of debate about whether she was an actual woman or a reimagining of the goddess Brigid. Last year when I was studying in Ireland I had two professors who held hard-line views on different sides, it was pretty funny. I got to see her statue on the hill in Kerry and there's a photo of me with her but there's a huge tour bus behind me and also my hair is everywhere because of the wind so i am gatekeeping that sorry </3

#i loved this ask!! thank you for it :)#answered

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travelingue · 1 year

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Naples (6): Elevation

The story so far: on the morning of our last full day in Naples we found the genteel part. And we began to suspect that the nicest bits were on the hills, looking down on the grimy centre.

As we boarded a bus climbing up to Capodimonte, home to Naples' main art museum, I flashed Lesley's phone at the driver who waved us through before I could conjure up both e-passes.

This relaxed attitude provoked the ire of a woman sitting at the front.

Throughout our 20-minute journey she harangued the driver while glaring at us. You didn't need to understand Italian to get her drift: fare dodgers were an insult to regular users and bleeding the transit system dry.

The driver occasionally responded with sighs of impotent sympathy: "Lo so, lo so..." All the while, people were getting on and off freely. For all we knew, the only fare-paying passengers on board were that bitching woman and us.

As we alighted at the top of the hill, she said in English: "For the return, make sure you buy a ticket at that shop over there."

The gardens of Capodimonte Palace confirmed our hypothesis about the correlation between elevation and refinement in this city.

The museum cafeteria was located in the grand courtyard. Sparse attendance, swift service, tasty food: our lunch experience had everything the Museo archeologico had failed to provide a day earlier.

The gallery itself is fabulous.

The women in various states of rapture (such as Titian's Magdalene and Botticelli's Madonna below, left and centre) are so over the top that an atheist may wonder if the artist is taking the piss.

I am certain, however, about the pout of scepticism Raphael put on God's face as He crowns His son (above right).

We were looking forward to admiring The Flagellation of Christ by Caravaggio – painted as he passed through Naples while running away from murder charges. I asked the staff where I could see it.

"At the Louvre," the man said. "It's on loan until December." "Are you telling me," I thundered, "that I flew across Europe to see a painting that has been shipped to my native city?" "Le mie scuse signore."

I quickly checked the Louvre's website. In "a dialogue between the masterpieces of the two museums", the French were getting their hand on not just on Capodimonte's Caravaggio, but also dozens of pieces by Michelangelo, Titian, etc.

Dialogue? I call that a plunder of Napoleonic proportions which, from my point of view, was no less invidious for being temporary.

"Lo so, lo so," The man sighed in impotent sympathy.

Our afternoon to the museum, however, was far from wasted. Among the marvels on display was the piece at the top of this post: Scuole diverse ("Different Schools", 1890) by one Augusto Moriani.

Another underrated local genius, Achille d'Orsi, crafted this 1877 sculpture of two men asleep on a park bench. I find the title, Il Parassiti, refreshingly brutal. Nowadays it might be marketed as "Helpless victims of neoliberalism".

On our final evening we decided to explore another hill. We made our way to the funicolare we had spotted that morning.

The ride itself was disappointing: you can't see anything as the carriage rattles through tunnels.

Once we got to the top, though, the Vomero district bore out my altitude theory of desirability.

We wandered through opulent streets. A few tasteful streamers overhead quietly honoured the Napoli football club, which had just won the Serie A - nothing like the garish bunting and images of Saint Maradona that were ubiquitous downtown.

From the medieval fortress of Sant'Elmo you had a clear view of Mount Vesuvius.

We knew there must have been at least one area in Naples where people hung out, a place where you could dine on something else than good pizza and drink wine. We were happy to have found Vomero on our final night.

We returned to our hotel by metro. The escalator at Duomo station was down. We had memorised a complex succession of lifts that got you to the surface.

During the day, you had to dart from one to the next ahead of other passengers. At 10 pm, there was little competition.

But the final lift was "not in exercise", and we reached the empty street via the stairs.

Previous entries on Naples:

1. Ryanair 2. Neapolis or Nablus? 3. Daylight robbery 4. Sybaritic afternoon 5. The benefits of being bombed

#naples #capodimonte #vomero #italy

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dfroza · 6 months

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“It is finished!”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 19th chapter of the book of John:

Pilate took Jesus and had Him flogged. The soldiers twisted thorny branches together as a crown and placed it onto His brow and wrapped Him in a purple cloth. They drew near to Him, shouting:

Soldiers (striking at Jesus): Bow down, everyone! This is the King of the Jews!

Pilate (going out to the crowd): Listen, I stand in front of you with this man to make myself clear: I find this man innocent of any crimes.

Then Jesus was paraded out before the people, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe.

Pilate: Here is the man!

Chief Priests and Officers (shouting): Crucify, crucify!

Pilate: You take Him and crucify Him; I have declared Him not guilty of any punishable crime!

Jews: Our law says that He should die because He claims to be the Son of God.

Pilate was terrified to hear the Jews making their claims for His execution; so he retired to his court, the Praetorium.

Pilate (to Jesus): Where are You from?

Jesus did not speak.

Pilate: How can You ignore me? Are You not aware that I have the authority either to free You or to crucify You?

Jesus: Any authority you have over Me comes from above, not from your political position. Because of this, the one who handed Me to you is guilty of the greater sin.

Pilate listened to Jesus’ words. Taking them to heart, he attempted to release Jesus; but the Jews opposed him, shouting:

Jews: If you release this man, you have betrayed Caesar. Anyone who claims to be a king threatens Caesar’s throne.

After Pilate heard these accusations, he sent Jesus out and took his seat in the place where he rendered judgment. This place was called the Pavement, or Gabbatha in Hebrew. All this occurred at the sixth hour on the day everyone prepares for the Passover.

Pilate (to the Jews): Look, here is your King!

Jews: Put Him away; crucify Him!

Pilate: You want me to crucify your King?

Chief Priests: We have no king but Caesar!

Pilate handed Him over to his soldiers, knowing that He would be crucified. They sent Jesus out carrying His own instrument of execution, the cross, to a hill known as the Place of the Skull, or Golgotha in Hebrew. In that place, they crucified Him along with two others. One was on His right and the other on His left. Pilate ordered that a plaque be placed above Jesus’ head. It read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” Because the site was near an urban region, it was written in three languages (Greek, Latin, and Hebrew) so that all could understand.

Chief Priests (to Pilate): Don’t write, “The King of the Jews.” Write, “He said, ‘I am King of the Jews’!”

Pilate: I have written what I have written.

As Jesus was being crucified, the soldiers tore His outer garments into four pieces, one for each of them. They wanted to do the same with His tunic, but it was seamless—one piece of fabric woven from the top down. So they said,

Soldier (to other soldiers): Don’t tear it. Let’s cast lots, and the winner will take the whole thing.

This happened in keeping with the Hebrew Scriptures, which said, “They divided My outer garments and cast lots for My clothes.” These soldiers did exactly what was foretold in the Hebrew Scriptures. Jesus’ mother was standing next to His cross along with her sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. Jesus looked to see His mother and the disciple He loved standing nearby.

Jesus (to Mary, His mother): Dear woman, this is your son (motioning to the beloved disciple)! (to John, His disciple) This is now your mother.

From that moment, the disciple treated her like his own mother and welcomed her into his house. Jesus knew now that His work had been accomplished, and the Hebrew Scriptures were being fulfilled.

Jesus: I am thirsty.

A jar of sour wine had been left there, so they took a hyssop branch with a sponge soaked in the vinegar and put it to His mouth. When Jesus drank, He spoke:

Jesus: It is finished!

In that moment, His head fell; and He gave up the spirit. The Jews asked Pilate to have their legs broken so the bodies would not remain on the crosses on the Sabbath. It was the day of preparation for the Passover, and that year the Passover fell on the Sabbath. The soldiers came and broke the legs of both the men crucified next to Jesus. When they came up to Jesus’ cross, they could see that He was dead; so they did not break His legs. Instead, one soldier took his spear and pierced His abdomen, which brought a gush of blood and water.

This testimony is true. In fact, it is an eyewitness account; and he has reported what he saw so that you also may believe. It happened this way to fulfill the Hebrew Scriptures that “not one of His bones shall be broken”; and the Hebrew Scriptures also say, “They will look upon Him whom they pierced.”

After all this, Joseph of Arimathea, a disciple who kept his faith a secret for fear of the Jewish officials, made a request to Pilate for the body of Jesus. Pilate granted his request, and Joseph retrieved the body. Nicodemus, who first came to Jesus under the cloak of darkness, brought over 100 pounds of myrrh and ointments for His burial. Together, they took Jesus’ body and wrapped Him in linens soaked in essential oils and spices, according to Jewish burial customs.

Near the place He was crucified, there was a garden with a newly prepared tomb. Because it was the day of preparation, they arranged to lay Jesus in this tomb so they could rest on the Sabbath.

The Book of John, Chapter 19 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Now you know who “the beloved disciple” is: the last eyewitness to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Mary has become family to John, fulfilling the dying wish of Jesus, his Savior. For those who are gathered at the foot of the cross, family is less about blood kinship than it is about covenant obedience.

The mother of the Lord will serve the redemptive purposes of her son and the Savior of the world until her last day on earth. Anyone feeling sorry for himself should think about Jesus. He spent all this time before His death, and through His death, demonstrating how to love and how to serve. He is asking John to do no more in serving Mary than He did in serving us.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 31st chapter of the book of Genesis:

As time went on, Jacob overheard what Laban’s sons were saying about him.

Laban’s Sons: Jacob has taken everything that belonged to our father; he gained all his wealth from taking advantage of him.

And Jacob also noticed a change in how Laban looked at him and treated him. He seemed colder toward him than before.

Eternal One (to Jacob): You must now return to the land of your ancestors and to your own family. I will be with you always.

So Jacob called his wives Rachel and Leah to meet him in the field where his flock was grazing.

Jacob: I notice your father’s attitude toward me has changed; he doesn’t regard me with the same respect as he did before. But the God of my father has been with me. You both know how well I have served your father—with all my strength. However your father cheated me by changing the terms of my salary 10 times, but beyond that my God did not allow him to harm me. If your father said, “The speckled will be your payment,” then all of the flock became speckled; and if he said, “the striped will be your payment,” then all of the flock became striped. In this way, God has taken away your father’s livestock and given them to me. During the mating season of the flock, I once paid attention to a dream, and in the dream, I saw the male goats that mated with the flock were striped, speckled, and mottled. Then God’s messenger said to me in the dream, “Jacob!” and I answered, “I’m here.” And the messenger said, “Look up right now, and see all of the goats that are mating with the flock are striped, speckled, and mottled because I have noticed everything Laban is doing to you. I am the God of Bethel, the place where you poured oil on a pillar and made a vow to Me. Now get up, leave this land, and return to the land where you were born.”

Rachel and Leah: Is there any inheritance at all left for us from our father’s house? He regards us as foreigners now that we’ve married you. He sold us in exchange for your years of labor, and he has been using up all of the money that should have been ours. All of the property God has taken from our father and given to you actually belongs to us and to our children anyway! So do whatever God said to do.

So Jacob got up, and he put his children and his wives on camels for the journey. He rounded up all of his livestock and all of the property he had gained, including the livestock he had acquired in Paddan-aram, and he began to drive them to his father Isaac in the land of Canaan. Meanwhile Laban had gone off to shear his sheep. While he was out, Rachel stole her father’s household idols. And Jacob likewise deceived Laban the Aramean by hiding from him the fact that he was leaving. He just left quickly with everything he had. He crossed the Euphrates River and set pace south toward the hill country of Gilead.

Three days later, Laban was told that Jacob had left. So he gathered a group of his relatives, and together they pursued him for seven days until they closed in on Jacob in the hill country of Gilead. Then God came to Laban the Aramean in a dream during the night with a message.

Eternal One: Be careful what you say and do to Jacob.

Laban caught up to Jacob. Now Jacob had pitched his tent and set up camp in the hill country; and Laban, along with his relatives, also camped in the hill country of Gilead. Laban went out to meet Jacob.

Laban (to Jacob): What have you done, deceiving me and carrying off my daughters as if they were your prisoners of war? Why did you run out on me and try to trick me? Why didn’t you just tell me you were going? I would have sent you off with celebration and songs, with the joyful sounds of the tambourine and lyre. And why didn’t you even allow me to kiss my daughters and grandchildren good-bye? What you have done is foolish. It is certainly in my power to punish you, but the God of your father Isaac spoke to me last night and said, “Be careful what you say and do to Jacob.” Now you have left because you missed your father’s household—I can understand that—but why did you have to steal my family gods?

Jacob (answering Laban): I left because I was afraid, and because I thought you would take your daughters away from me by force. But I pledge to you that anyone who stole your gods will not live. I certainly did not take them. Here in the presence of all of our relatives, search the camp and let’s see if anything I have is yours. If there is, you can take it back!

Of course, Jacob had no idea Rachel had stolen the idols.

So Laban went into Jacob’s tent, into Leah’s tent, and into the two female servants’ tent; he searched, but he did not find them. Then he came out of Leah’s tent and into Rachel’s. Now Rachel had taken the household gods and concealed them in the camel’s saddle, and she sat on them. Laban looked around and felt everything in the tent, but he did not find them.

Rachel (to her father): Please don’t be angry that I cannot get up for you, sir, but I am in the midst of my “time of month.”

So Laban searched, but he did not find the household gods.

When Jacob saw that Laban’s search had come up empty, he became angry and confronted Laban.

Jacob: What is my offense? What have I done that is so wicked to make you pursue me like a common criminal? You searched through all of my things, and what have you found that belonged to you? Whatever it is, set it down here between your family and mine, and they can decide whose it is. I’ve worked for you for 20 years. Your ewes and your female goats have never miscarried under my care. I have never feasted on any of the rams in your flocks. When wild animals attacked, I didn’t bring the carcass to you to deal with; I bore the cost myself. You required me to cover any losses, whether the animals were stolen by day or night, and I did so. There I was—at your service—during the day I was hounded by heat; during the night I was cold and couldn’t get a good night’s sleep. For 20 years, I have been in your household. I served you 14 of those years in return for your two daughters, and six years for your flock. And you have altered my payment 10 times. If the God of my father, the God of Abraham, and the Fear of Isaac had not been on my side, surely now you would have sent me away empty-handed. But God knows my plight and how hard I’ve labored for you, and it was He who reprimanded you last night!

Laban: The daughters you speak of are my daughters; the children are my grandchildren; the flocks are my flocks; all you see is mine. But what can I do today about these daughters of mine and the children from their wombs? Come, let’s make a covenant between us, you and me, and let there be a witness to our agreement.

So Jacob took a stone and set it up as a pillar. He told his relatives to gather up more stones. So they all took stones and made a large pile of them. Then they ate there by the pile. Laban called it Jegar-sahadutha (Aramaic for “witness-pile”) and Jacob called it Galeed (Hebrew for “witness-pile”).

Laban: This pile of stones stands as a witness to the agreement we have made today.

This is why he called it Galeed. The pillar was called Mizpah, which means “watch post.”

Laban: May the Eternal One watch us when we are away from one another. If you in any way mistreat my daughters or if you take wives in addition to my daughters, even though no one else is with us, remember that God is a witness between you and me.

See this pile of stones and this pillar which I have set between us. This pile is a witness and this pillar is a witness that I will not pass beyond this pile of stones to harm you, and you will not pass beyond this pile and this pillar to harm me. May the God of Abraham and the God of Nahor (the God of their father Terah) serve as judge between us.

So Jacob swore an oath on the Fear of Isaac, his father; and Jacob offered a sacrifice on the hill there and called all of his relatives together to eat bread. And they all ate bread and spent the rest of the night in the hill country. Early the next morning, Laban got up, kissed his grandchildren and his daughters, and blessed them; and then he left and returned home.

The Book of Genesis, Chapter 31 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, April 2 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about the “yes” and “amen”:

The last promise of Scripture is "I come quickly" (אֲנִי בָא מַהֵר) and the last prayer is, "Amen, come, Lord Yeshua" (אָמֵן בּאָה־נָּא הָאָדוֹן יֵשׁוּעַ) [Rev. 22:20]. Meanwhile we "inwardly groan" for the fulfillment of our redemption, since presently we are suspended between worlds, walking in hope yet subject to the vanities that befall all flesh... And though God may tarry, He declares, "I am the LORD; in its time I will hasten it" (Isa. 60:22). So we are made captives to hope, clinging to the promise of our ultimate healing and redemption. Our hearts therefore affirm that God is faithful "to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy" (Jude 1:24). Amen. God will help us before He will help us, and may He come speedily, and in our day....

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Isaiah 45:22 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa45-22-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa45-22-lesson.pdf

4.2.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365:

But Moses is doing more than speaking to Aharon – he’s also speaking to us about how we can elevate our relationships with God. Even more than feeling the emotions – which is an important first step in worship – Moses is illustrating that there’s an even higher level – that of taking action to advance Godliness in the world. Whether it’s setting an example of good conduct in our families or communities, actively participating in workshops or events, or leading the way in a charity, we can take inspiration from Moses’s words of comfort and do our part to “show” the holiness of God.

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

April 2, 2024

Sodom and Gomorrha

“Even as Sodom and Gomorrha, and the cities about them in like manner, giving themselves over to fornication, and going after strange flesh, are set forth for an example, suffering the vengeance of eternal fire.” (Jude 1:7)

These cities provide two stern examples of God’s judgmental wrath. Their sin had reached such an intensity and had become so widespread that the entire region suffered the “vengeance of eternal fire.” Just like the awful misuse of human sexual potential distorted by the angelic beings cited in the previous verse, these cities had become so perverted that God’s longsuffering and mercy had ended.

“But the men of Sodom were wicked and sinners before the LORD exceedingly” (Genesis 13:13). Whatever they were involved with had become so heinous and so completely a distortion of everything God created man for that God appears to have reached the limit of human vocabulary to describe it. Their character (wickedness) and their deeds (sins) were “too much” for God.

Two classifications are listed. The first, fornication, is cited nearly 100 times in the Old Testament and is referred to over a dozen times in the New—always as a condemnation of sexual behavior outside of the intimate relations of husband and wife. The other classification is going after “strange flesh.” Genesis 19 makes it perfectly clear that this “exceedingly” awful sin was homosexual perversion.

For these sins God rained down “brimstone and fire from the LORD out of heaven” (Genesis 19:24). The Scripture is precisely clear: vengeance belongs to God (Romans 12:19), and He made Himself absolutely clear about His view of widespread fornication and homosexual behavior. This example is a sobering warning for those societies that promote such lifestyles. HMM III

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dougrobyngoold · 1 year

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Buda Castle District & Night Cruise on the Danube River - Budapest, Hungary

We started the day off by climbing up the hill to the Fisherman’s Bastion in the Castle District. It was a steep set of stairs and ramps, but we quickly forgot all of that when we reached the top. The plaza is expansive and the views are amazing! Pictured above is the statue of St Stephen and pictured below are the spires of Fisherman’s Bastion.

We had a lovely, partly cloudy day for our photos from the Castle District. Pictured below is the view looking toward Margrit Island and the Parliament Building.

There is a lot to see in the Castle District and it is a HUGE tourist destination. We had to be patient with the crowds and waiting our turn to take pictures - we are a bit exhausted by all of the “posing” that seems to be required when people are taking their pictures!

Matthias Church with its beautiful tiled roof - it dominates the square it is located in.

The Holy Trinity Column Statue built to commemorate the people of Buda who died from the Black Plague.

Church of St. Mary Magdalene tower and remains, the church was built between the 13th and 15th centuries.

National Archives of Hungary, another beautifully tiled roof - the picture does not do it justice.

Our journey through the Castle District continued along the northern perimeter. We stayed up on the terraced portion, which was away from the crowds on the plaza and provided us with great views of the surrounding areas. There were several statues and monuments on the terrace, as well as safety warnings!

After a lovely walk on the terrace, we rejoined the crowds at the plaza next to the Buda Castle. We made our way to the overlook and managed to get a spot to take in the views. Spectacular!

Gates to the Buda Castle plaza.

Statue of Turul, Hungary’s mythical bird that “ravaged the grandmother of Arpad and impregnated her, thus establishing the Turul as the progenitor of Hungary’s first reigning dynasty”. You can thank Cityseeker for that description!!

Danube River, Margit Island Bridge, and Parliament Building from the Castle District.

The famous Chain Bridge on the Danube River.

I am posting this picture because I love the sky in it and the panoramic view.

The Buda Castle is a ginormous complex, we wandered around for at least an hour without going inside of the castle. Inside the castle are several museums and displays, we opted not to enter any of them. It is free to wander around the grounds, each museum/entrance to the building required a fee.

The Royal Riding Hall, which is located in the Csikos courtyard.

A shot of the front of the Buda Castle, just a small section of the entire complex. There is a museum located in this portion of the castle.

Statue of Prince Eugene of Savoy.

A view through the ivy-covered trellis along the steps, as we descended from the Castle District down to the promenade.

Cave Church, located along the promenade on the Buda side of the river.

Szabadsag hid or Liberty Bridge, it spans the Danube River at the southern end of the City Centre.

We crossed the bridge to reach the Central Market Hall. We had hoped to find a place to eat lunch there, but we didn’t find anything that really appealed and it was extremely crowded - not really a place to sit down to eat. We enjoyed walking through the market and checking out all the different displays. Lots of paprika, alcohol, and pretty vegetables to look at!

We then wandered north from the market and found a tiny little cafe and had ourselves a little hummus and veggies for lunch, loved this sign from the cafe:

After lunch, we went back to our Airbnb and rested for a bit - we had a night cruise on the Danube scheduled in the evening, which didn’t start until 8:45!!

Our river cruise started from Dock 11 on the Pest side of the Danube. We cruised downriver first, passing the Liberty Bridge and all of the people lined up on it to view the sunset (pictured below).

Liberty Bridge lined with sunset watchers.

The Whale - a shopping and cultural center on the Pest side of the river.

Budapest University of Technology and Economics on the Buda side of the river.

Liberty Bridge and the Liberty Statue on Citadel Hill.

Buda Castle (above and below, because I couldn’t choose which picture I liked the best).

Matthias Church and Fisherman’s Bastion.

Chain Bridge, lit up with the colors of the Hungarian flag.

The Parliament Building, as we approached.

The Parliament Building, a sparkling jewel - the perfect end to a lovely cruise on the Danube.

#budapest #hungary #castles #markets

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dansnaturepictures · 4 months

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Speedwell, views, Marsh Fritillary, my first electric Adonis Blue of the year one of my favourite butterflies and Starling and young on another look at Magdalen Hill 25/05/2024.

Kestrels mobbing Red Kite which was memorable to see, Yellowhammer, Whitethroat, Buzzard, Brimstone, Dingy Skipper, lots of Small Heaths, Small Blue, Swollen-thighed beetle, Garden Chafer beetle, my first Common Carpet moth, hedgerow crane's-bill and horseshoe vetch of the year, Broad-bodied Chaser, sainfoin, herb-Robert and young Goldfinches and House Sparrow enjoyed at home were other highlights today.

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butchdykekondraki · 1 year

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oh my god i just remembered one of our favourite bands, their songs are soo davesport to us. they're called rainbow kitten surprise, here is a selection /silly: it's called: freefall "called to the devil and the devil said "hey!" / "why ya been callin' this late?" / "it's, like, two am and the bars all close at ten in hell, that's the rule i made!" / "..anyway -- you say you're too busy 'savin' everybody else to save yourself'?" / "and you don't want no help? ..oh, well" / "that's the story to tell!"" cocaine jesus "listen in, it isn't when you're talkin' for your namesake / jesus, mary magdalene, you are -- are you okay? / sittin' by the well, jill / you're fallin' down the hill, jack! / and everybody laughed / don'tcha pray? don'tcha pray?" "when ya find an old picture of us / and ya clear away the dust / i hope you miss me sometimes.. / when you see a frame that reminds you of me / would you remember the times? / oh, the times that we believed / in a cocaine jesus, in a black four-seater!" first class "say we'll get married on a porch in vegas! / we can get hitched and have a couple'a kids.. / and none of them will look at all like us! / and our neighbors will all be a bit too much.. / and you'll live out in the desert, with a man you never loved.." "is this it? / what you want? / what you wanted? / do you need love? / am i enough for you? / in time, you'll find i've got my baggage too.." "say you didn't see it / that i saw right through you.. / say you didn't mean it! / that i mean nothing to you..? / like you said -- do you believe me? / that i'll be right for you? / ..say you love me.. / like you used to.."

IVORYY YOURE FU KIGNF KILLING MEEE... OUHG... SNIFFLING SOBBING... OH THESE ARE SO GOOD IM GOING TO COMBUST. /POS

#[ren]#ur doing some cocomelon shit to me /ref/silly #obsessed #i need 2 come back 2 this later wait #fuck i forgot the tag. SHIT #save ???#eh. good enuff.

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nijjhar · 2 years

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youtube

Satt - Gospel Truth - Purakhh - person - Jinn - anyone - Janiyia - knows... Satt - Gospel Truth - Purakhh - person - Jinn - anyone - Janiyia - knows Him - Satguru = Christ is his name. https://youtu.be/JCpqzxZHmPY That is, the Gospel Truth is known to the sons of God called Satguru = Christ of the holy spirit, which is common sense that the shepherds possessed and not to the Christians of the dead letters of the holy books. Remember that Gospel gets written over your heart and not in ink on paper. Thus, His Word is incorruptible but what is written is corruptible. There is a Saying of Satguru = Christ Nanak Dev Ji, “Satt, the Gospel Truth, Purakhh – our Supernatural Father Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc. that gives His Word; Jinn – whosoever – Janiyia – happens to know Him in the Royal Kingdom of God, the Celestial world of the penniless Sadhus, Satguru Tiss kaa Naao – Then, Christ = Satguru is His name. That is what was known among the Brethren of Christ Thomas in the South of India. But when the Portuguese Pope went there, he told the people there is One Christ Jesus and you cannot call yourself Christ and he killed them. So, they had to leave their businesses and hide in the hills. That is how Christianity was killed in India and the Anti-Christ Fake Christianity became popular. Without Christ in your heart, you cannot Brew Logo over your heart and Preach it fearlessly as you can explain what you say and not consult the letters in the Bible where it cannot be written down in ink on paper but it is written over the Tablets of hearts wherever two or three are gathered together in honour of our Bridegroom and Elder Broth Christ Jesus. There is no Lord in the Royal Kingdom of God. Father has sons whilst the Lord has slaves as Saul was of the Gamaliel. In the spiritual language, anyone who is solitary and humble as Mary Magdalene was capable of entering the Royal Kingdom of God through that low humble and narrow solitary Gate. In the Royal Kingdom of God, our Covenant with our Father is the holy spirit called Surtti in Punjabi and us all the sons of the Most High Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc., the invisible God. There are no female Disciples in the Royal Kingdom of God but Brethren in the holy spirit enjoying the Nectar. Thus, in God, which is Spirit, our heart, the living Tablet, counts and not the physical body in flesh. Or Unless a Female becomes a spiritual Male, they cannot enter into the Royal Kingdom of God. Men of the dead letters at Mont Athos, those robed fake Fathers won’t allow even a female donkey into their kingdom of the spiritually dead people still thinking that our Father is in heaven and not live in His Temple, our physical body. They are the super donkeys carrying the holy books plying the dead letters as in the Universities and colleges of Theology. Holy spirit, common sense, shatters the fetters of the dead letters, the Holy Books. If we have One God, our Supernatural Father of our souls, then there should be one Faith. In Christianity, Jesus said One Fold called the Church of God headed by One Shepherd, our Bridegroom Christ Jesus/Christ = Satguru Nanak Dev Ji, the Second coming of Jesus. Solid Proof; this Golden Temple is of the same size as the Holiest of Holy that used to be in Jerusalem and its Curtain held the Secrets of the Oral Torah = His Word was rendered from the Top, the Temple High Priests, to the Bottom, the village Rabbis off you go – Luke 16v16; Law and Prophets were till John and thus, everyone makes a direct approach to God through His Word = Logo = SATGUR PARSAD. So, these hireling Dog-Collared Priests and Mullahs, cannot give your account to God as the Rabbis used to give at Passover. So, they are "ANTICHRISTS" that have a following of the spiritually blind Super Bastard Fanatic Devils - John 8v44 -, Hindu, Jew, Sikh, Christian, Muslim, etc. Outwardly, and not spiritually inwardly. These spiritual selves Hindu, Jew and Christian, are never born like Christ, the Title and they never die but the tribal selves Judah, Levi, Jatt, Tarkhan, etc. were born and they will die. Thus, Jesus was born and Jesus died on the Cross and rose on the Third Day and NOT CHRIST, THE TITLE. Greatest Blasphemers and Killers Blair and Bush https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9qHdTpTXHvE&list=PL0C8AFaJhsWz7HtQEhV91eAKugUw73PW1 Blair and Bush’s blasphemies against Holy Spirit https://youtu.be/0WBYOmpDuCs American Jews are today – http://www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/GrimReaper.htm Destroying one country after the other, so that the scripture is fulfilled. Also, do not forget the partition of India and how My ebook by Kindle. ASIN: B01AVLC9WO Full description:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Rest.htm Any helper to finish my Books:- ONE GOD ONE FAITH:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/bookfin.pdf and in Punjabi KAKHH OHLAE LAKHH:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/pdbook.pdf John's baptism:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/johnsig.pdf Trinity:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/trinity.pdf

#youtube

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selfparasbym · 2 years

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“Listen in it isn't when you're talking for your name's sake Jesus, Mary Magdalene you are, are you okay?”

”Lucy Katherine, I can’t not believe you would embarrass me in such a way,” was the first thing Christopher said when they got home that night. “Not only did you embarrass me but that ex-fiancé of yours made me look like a fool.”

”I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the back of his hand met her cheek perfectly at the end of her sentence. “Christopher,” she said shocked though she didn’t know why she was shocked.

”Or do you only like when Max smacks you around when you’re in the bedroom?” he questioned as he moved to fix himself a drink. “Sitting by the well, Jill, your falling down the hill, Jack And everybody laughed Don't you pray? Don't you pray?”

Christopher was typically only emotionally abusive towards her, there were rare times it would cross the line to being physical. in fact she could count the number of times he had been physically abusive on her; two Christmases ago he broke her nose when he refused to let her mope around about how she wasn’t a mom the broke nose he set back in place before going to her dad’s whom they told she fell down the stairs, there were a few times he grabbed her wrist too hard, and he hit her once in the back with a coat hanger when she was crying over something that happened at work as soon as he got home.. but each time he told her it was just because he was frustrated with her, and he loved her. She didn’t love him, she never really did.

But since the gala the abuse had turned more physical, the emotional abuse hurt in new ways, and a new layer of sexual abuse had started because he didn’t want to look like some fool on their couples trip that didn’t have sex with his wife.

“To a Cocaine Jesus in a black four-seater Got a man, don't need him, but you wait Call me when you want, or just call me when you need it”

The first week following the gala she had off due to an extended fall break, meant she had no need to go anywhere nor did she need phone. her phone stayed in Christopher’s safe, he only pulled it out every other day for her to call her dad, telling him how he was deep cleaning their house and didn’t have time to talk. her keys stayed in there with them. The next week he would drop her off at work, then pick her back up once he got off work. “If you only ever need it for the day High won't hold, won't hold, and I have no more Than all you left of me”

Often times there were days Lucy would get off at 4, and she would be stuck at work until he got off at 8. She felt somewhat safe while she was at work, and she felt embarrassed every single she had to tell someone she lost her phone. Around six she would sit on the curb waiting for him to show up until he finally would appear.

”Where were you?” she asked when she got into the car.

”Lucy, I have work. I can’t drop everything to pick you up just because your done cutting out crafts,” he shook his head.

”You could give me my car keys back,” she pointed out as she buckled her seatbelt.

”Not until after our trip. I don’t want you to defy me while we’re gone,” he shook his head.

The day of reunion

“I have, I have, I have no more Than all you leave”

The morning started off like every single morning her alarm when off at 5:45, she moved into the bathroom putting make up on over baggy eyes desperate for a good night of sleep. The small bruises that had been added on her body over the last two weeks were easily covered by a long sleeve and a pair of black slacks. By 6:30 am Christopher was also ready for work, which meant a quick breakfast, and then he was driving her off to work. When she arrived by 7 am she was so thankful to be away from her husband for a few hours.

“High as hell, feeling fine, nothing bad but nothing kind Not a word from me, at least nothing you would mind”

The first few hours of the day flew by, which meant by 11 am when she escorted her class to lunch, and she had an hour to herself. she sat quietly at her desk bawling thinking about how horrible the next week was going to be with Christopher in another country trying to prove she was a good wife. all she wanted was Max in this moment, all she wanted was for him to hold her to make her laugh make her feel safe. at the moment she felt anything but safe. “In my head, in my head I get lonely sometimes Feeling fine, coming down, never back cause we're never out” Once she had her kids back from lunch she was able to focus fully on everything that was happening with them, and the lessons she was teaching. which meant as soon as 3 pm hit, and the dismissal bell rang her stomach refilled with dread knowing she would be soon going home.

She sat down at her desk scrolling through emails after her classroom was empty, jumping when she heard her classroom door open once more.

“You'll never call the cops again, I'll never call her mine”

”Did you forget how to use a phone?” Joshua Hadley questioned as he walked into his eldest daughter’s classroom. “Because Maeve lives in Phoenix and she calls me every single day, Beau lives two blocks from me he can call or text, or even visit me,” he pointed out. “This calling me every other day acting shady isn’t going to work for me.”

”I’ve just been busy,” Lucy lied. “And I lost my phone so I don’t know where it is.”

”You have been a bad liar since the moment you were born,” he sat down across from her in an extra chair she had in front of her desk. “Your mother used to tell me we’d never have to worry about you rebelling because you can’t lie,” he chuckled.

”I’m not lying,” Lucy shook her head. “I’m just busy we’re about to go out of town. I promise i’ll call more.”

”Are you pregnant again?” which honestly was his worst fear for Lucy to have to endure another pregnancy and then have her feelings dismissed by Christopher.

”No, I can assure you I'm not pregnant,” Lucy said honestly. She had been so thankful every single time Christopher had forced her into sex this week he had used protection.

Even with the answers Lucy gave him Joshua still didn’t feel quite satisfied with her answers. There was something that didn’t quite set right with the answers, and he knew his daughter well enough to know how she acted when she was too anxious or she was scared, both of which she seemed. “In my head, in my head, I get lonely sometimes”

By 3:45 her dad had left alone to work again. And by 4 her classroom door opened once more with the principle of the school joining her this time.

”Mrs. Bien, I know you’re going out of town next week but it’s late, you should go home and get ready for your trip,” he told her. “I’m also about to lock the school up for the weekend,” he chuckled. Lucy sat on the sidewalk starting at 4:15 waiting for Christopher, of course the rain began pouring at 6:30, and he didn’t show up until 7 pm.

”Lucy, hurry I don’t want to drive in this shit, it’s only going to get worse,’” Christopher told her as she opened the door. she quickly got in not wanting to say how upset she was. “You look soaked, baby. Why didn’t you wait inside?”

”They locked the doors today at 4:15,” she said softly as she moved her hands against the car heater. “And it’s not like I could call you.”

”Well, we can’t dwell on that now can we?” he questioned as he began driving to their house. The entire way home Lucy was praying that they would warm up. “When you find an old picture of us And you clear away the dust I hope you miss me sometimes”

As soon as they got home, Lucy fled out of the car. “Baby strip down, I don’t want the house soaked,” he told her as she opened the garage door leading to the laundry room. Lucy stripped down out of her work clothes, and her undergarments wrapping her body in a clean blanket that was folded on the dryer. “Hey, I was thinking i’d order dinner for us tonight.”

All of Christopher’s words he said as she walked up the stairs began to sound like white noise, she walked into their room entering her closet and closing the door behind her. She sat on the floor looking at herself wrapped in the blanket, so tired of the past few weeks wondering if there was any hope she would ever see Max again. She felt the tears well up in her eyes as she looked at herself in the mirror.

”I just,” she couldn’t even form the words to herself, she stood up pulling a box she had hidden in the back of her closet out filled with things from her relationship with Max. The first thing she pulled out was the baby blue sweatshirt she had stole from him at the end of their relationship because it reminded her of him, the sweatshirt she slept in every night because it smelt like him until eventually it started smelling more like her. “When you see a frame that reminds you of me Would you remember the times Oh the times that we believed In a Cocaine Jesus in a black four-seater’

She sat in the closet for as long as she could looking at old photos, letting her hands hold tickets from things they had gone together, and notes they had scribbled on together. every single memory only made her want Max more.

”Lucy Katherine, dinner is ready,” Christopher knocked on the door pulling her from her thoughts. “I ordered you one of those salads you like. I didn’t want you to get too bloated with carbs before our trip next week.”

”I’ll be right out.” “Got a man, don't need him, but you wait Call me when you want, or just call me when you need it If you only ever need it for the day”

Lucy folded the sweatshirt on her closet vanity before placing the box back in it’s hiding spot. She pulled on a sweater and a pair of pants before heading down. “I have to do a post-op rounds in the morning,” Christopher explained as they sat at the table. “I’ll probably turn in for the night early.” Which was the best news she could have ever heard.

“High won't hold, won't hold, and I have no more Than all you left of me I have, I have, I have no more Than all you leave”

Lucy played the good wife as they got ready for bed, she showered made sure he was comfortable for the night. All while post-shower wearing Max’s sweatshirt and a pair of leggings. “I’ve never seen this sweatshirt before,” Christopher told her.

”I got it an the conference, I just haven’t worn it yet,” that was an answer he could accept. She laid there quietly until she heard him fall fast asleep, and once he had been asleep for awhile she moved out of the bed. She didn’t know where her car keys were, and she didn’t want him to get an update on his phone where his car was parked if she took it. so she did what any rational person would do she put on tennis shoes, and snuck out the backdoor with an old bike in tow.

She wasn’t quite sure where she was going but she knew she needed to find Max, or she needed to find away to call him. I'm nothing more than a page unwritten on the pavement, blowing in the wind You win a lot, and lose just a little bit more than you gained in the end But God, I wish that I, was better than I am, but no luck, no love, no Gospel I could understand

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 3 years

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Of Mermaids, Werewolves, and Men (Stiles Stilinski x OC)

Summary: Maggie comes back from London with new found feelings for best friend Stiles. And after a summer of relative normalcy, she's welcomed back to Beacon Hills with the strangest of happenings.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x OC (Magdalene Whittemore)

Word Count: 6936

Warnings: death mention, violence (the deer crashing through the windshield), blood mention, season 2 plot points mentioned

A/N: This takes place basically in the first episode of season 3-a, but the OC is written as if they have been through all of season 1 and 2. Maggie is best friends with Stiles and Scott and the twin sister of Jackson. When Jackson gets bitten at the end of season 1, Maggie also receives the effects of the bite (but turns into a Mermaid instead). In season 2 she is learning how to use her powers but is also pursued romantically by Matt so that he can get closer to Jackson.

If you would like more of this let me know!

When Jackson and Magdalene Whittemore were sat down by their parents and told that they were moving to London, surprisingly, the younger of the twins was the one to object profusely.

She screamed and cried that it wasn’t fair. That Beacon Hills was where they had grown up. Where Jackson was captain of the lacrosse team. Where Maggie was the best runner on the cross country team. Where both of them had friends, friends that would understand them way more than even their parents would.

All while the older twin just sat on the couch with his arms crossed and his head bowed.

“Jackson!” she cried, looking back to him with eyes wide and red with tears. “Aren’t you gonna help me out here?”

“No. I agree with them, Maggie.”

“You what?” The furious blonde turned on her twin.

“After everything that happened — “ He finally glanced up at her then, blue eyes that matched her own glinting with regret. “We need a fresh start.”

She stared at him for a moment. Feeling betrayed but also like she was being proven wrong. Which she hated.

“But — But — “ Maggie sputtered, beginning to accept her defeat as her tears welled up even more. “I don’t want a fresh start! I want my friends — I wanna keep going to Beacon Hills. Please don’t — I can’t — “

Maggie could feel her walls breaking down. The flood walls of her eyelids breaking as the tears spilled over and down her cheeks in a torrent. She hated this. Hated that they were having this discussion. Hated that she had screamed and argued. Hated that she was now crying. Hated that everyone else was right. The relief that flooded her when school was let out for the summer was undeniable. No more stared and whispers followed her wherever she went.

She’s been acting super weird lately.

Poor Maggie, her boyfriend was that kid who drowned in the creek. Matt.

Didn’t her brother die for like — a few days or something?

It made her skip most of her classes the rest of the year and hide out in her room — hoping that it would all just blow over eventually. But she couldn’t escape it at home either. Their parents had so many questions about everything. How Jackson came back to life. What they had to do to hide their abilities now. Why Jackson was a Werewolf but Maggie wasn’t. The only real solace she had left were her friends. Allison, Lydia, Scott…Stiles.

Stiles was a whole different story.

Going to some school where no one knew her did sound nice. It sounded refreshing and responsible and logical. But how was she supposed to do this life without her friends in Beacon Hills? How was she supposed to figure out life as a Mermaid without them? They knew who she was, who she really was, from the very beginning. They helped her, fought for her and with her, they understood what she was going through. At a new school, she would have no one like that. She would have to keep everything about herself a secret to everyone. Never truly letting anyone in.

And that was just not something she was willing to do. Screw being responsible and logical.

Balling her fists up tight, her nails digging into her palms, and sniffing back her tears, Maggie muttered, “I would live with Aunt Kay.”

“Aunt Kay?” her father asked incredulously, “My spinster of a sister who hates children?”

Her mother rolled her eyes from beside him. “She doesn’t hate children, Daniel. She just never wanted any of her own. Or to get married. Or have a permanent residence.”

Maggie’s hopes shot through the roof. She spoke quickly so she could get out her point before they shot her down. “She told me I could come live with her if I wanted when I got to college. I’m sure she’d be fine with it being a few years early.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Maggie, honey.” Her mother shook her head. “That’s a big burden to put on Kay.”

“She’s a philanthropist for a living. I’m sure she had enough money for it,” her father grumbled.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about. Taking care of a teenager — making sure she doesn’t get into trouble, making sure she does her homework. Kay’s never been the discipline type.”

Maggie practically shouted she was so desperate to speak. “I’m responsible, I’ll make sure I do my homework — just, can you — can you at least call her and ask? Maybe?”

“If you really wanna stay in Beacon Hills, honey — sure. We’ll give her a call.”

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

Triumphant, Maggie turned back to look at her brother. Only to see the hurt swimming in his eyes.

“Are you still mad at me?” Maggie asked, sitting now in her empty bedroom with nothing but packed boxes ready to be taken to the moving truck.

Stiles scoffed from his seat beside her. “What’re you talking about? I’ve never been mad at you.”

“Okay, that’s total bullshit.”

“Bullshit? What are you — “

He looked absolutely flabbergasted, but Maggie could see right through it. The two of them had been friends for too long for him to hide his true emotions from her. She glared at him as harshly as she could while bumping him with her shoulder.

“I could see it, ya know? After the whole…Jackson thing was resolved. You would barely look at me — talk to me. I don’t know if you still are. Mostly cause we haven’t seen each other in forever,” Maggie said, looking over the tops of her knees at her bare room. “Would you have even come over today — if I hadn’t asked?”

Stiles sighed. He had one leg pulled up towards himself, the other spread out before him. The pair of them were sitting under her window on the floor, shoulder to shoulder. It was the spot where he had held her as she turned for the first time. Where she had whispered to him all her fears about being a Mermaid. Where she had confessed that she was going on a date with Matt. And this was the last time they were ever going to get to sit in that spot.

Her family’s flight to England left in six hours — and it was there that she was going to spend her summer.

“You know I would have,” Stiles finally muttered.

“I’m — I’m sorry that I didn’t see that Matt was behind everything the whole time,” Maggie whispered, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “I just…I thought he actually liked me, ya know?”

Turns out he was just using her to get closer to Jackson as the Kanima. Shame burned within her like a bonfire fueled by gasoline. She should have seen the signs. She should have known. But she got so caught up in him being her first boyfriend, being the first guy to like her in that way, that she was blinded. Stiles had tried to tell her that Matt was bad news. But she hadn’t listened — her heart out betting her brain.

“God, Maggie, I — I wasn’t mad about that,” Stiles muttered.

“You weren’t?” she questioned with a furrowed brow. “Then what — ?”

“Maggie, honey!” her mother called from downstairs, “We gotta go! Come on!”

She huffed as she got up from the floor, Stiles quickly following suit with a nervous look on his face. She threw her backpack on then looked around her bedroom one last time. She was going to miss it. The memories made there, the style of it, the hominess. But now she got to make another place feel like home and make some new memories.

“Text me when you land, okay? Just so I know you’re safe,” he asked, hands shoved deep in his pants pockets.

Maggie nodded. “I will.”

“And — don’t forget to call every once and a while? Don’t want you getting all posh on me.”

“You know I would never,” she scoffed, but then she said, “I just — um — why were you so upset before? You never said.”

Stiles opened his mouth to reply, looking like he was about to spout total bullshit. She could see the signs of it on his face. But then her mother called, even louder, from downstairs again: “Magdalene! Come on!”

“I’m coming!” Maggie yelled back.

Then Stiles smiled, a small, shy thing that she had never seen before. It somehow filled her with nerves and elated her at the same time.

“We’ll talk about it when you get back. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She spent the summer in England with her family as they looked for a new house. She had an internship with Camberwell Studios in London getting coffee and dry cleaning on the weekdays. But at least she was in proximity of an actual film studio. On the weekend, they took trips to Scotland, Ireland, France, Italy, Germany, and Spain. By the end of it, her parents had found jobs and picked out a house — and every memory card Maggie had purchased was full of footage from all over Europe. But as summer drew to a close, and her flight back home to Beacon Hills came nearer and nearer, Maggie felt like it was the calm before a great storm.

She was now in the room that would be saved for her when she came to visit. Packing her suitcase neatly, trying to make all the souvenirs she bought for her friends fit in the limited space. She may have to leave the Longchamp handbag Lydia made her buy in France behind.

As she folded in her last shirt, a soft knock thumped on her door before it creaked open. Jackson poked his head through the crack.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Maggie replied.

Her and Jackson had not spent much time alone together on this trip. The tension between them far too great for either of them to bear it. But it seemed like tonight Jackson was intent on broaching the subject.

He stood just beyond her closed door with that hard look on his face that made her squirm. “I’m not…Angry at you for going back to Beacon Hills. I’m — really hurt.”

Maggie rolled her eyes as she practically slammed the top of her suitcase shut.

“We weren’t gonna be together forever you know,” she said stubbornly, refusing to apologize in that way that siblings do. “You were already leaving me miles behind anyway.”

“Maggie, don’t flip this on me to make me feel bad, okay? I already feel bad enough.”

“About what? The fact that you turned us into monsters?” Her eyes flashed in an unnatural way, showing the way her eyes glinted silver like a fish deep in the sea. “Or the fact that you spent the last three years practically ignoring me?”

“I wasn’t ignoring you, we were just…Growing apart,” he said as he moved to lean on her bedpost.

“And that gave you the excuse to laugh at me? To brush off everything I did like it didn’t matter? To make fun of me and my friends behind my back?”

She watched her twin through blurred, water-stained vision. Watched as his hard expression crumpled into one of guilt and sympathy. And somehow that turning of his face, that show that he really did care, made her break down into tears. She collapsed into him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and laying her head on his chest. He held her as she cried. And it was at that moment she knew that it was over.

They couldn’t be mad at each other anymore — or even hurt. Everything had been put out on the table. The laundry had been aired. They had done the worst things imaginable to each other and there they stood. Holding each other. Crying.

“I’m sorry, Mags,” Jackson whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she replied.

Peace came over her then. Something she hadn’t felt the entire summer. She now felt free to leave her brother in London and go her own way. They would always be twins. They would always love each other. And they would always have each other’s back.

“God, how am I gonna survive this place without you?” Jackson laughed into her hair as she finally pulled away to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“I have no idea,” she chuckled in reply, moving back to her luggage to zip it all up.

Jackson flopped down on her bed with a sigh. “And you’ll do just fine without me. You’ve got McCall, Stilinski, Allison…Lydia.”

Maggie smirked, pushing her blonde hair back behind her ears before getting to work on zipping her suitcase shut. “You talked to her at all this summer?”

He glanced away, choosing to pick at his sock instead of looking at his twin. “Here and there. She knows I’m not coming back. I told her to move on. Even though I didn’t really want to.”

“Do you want me to tell you? If she moves on — I mean.” Maggie finally got the zipper closed with one final tug. Unsure if she would ever get it unzipped again. Mermaid strength or not.

“No. I don’t need to know.”

“That’s very grown-up of you, Jackson,” she said, sitting down next to him on the bed with a smirk.

“Oh, shut up,” he scoffed, shoving her with his shoulder. “What about you? And don’t lie — I know you’ve talked to Stilinski basically every single night.”

“God! Jackson! Don’t listen in on my phone calls!” Maggie felt a mad blush creeping across her cheeks as she hid her face in her shirt sleeve.

“I miss you, Stiles! You would’ve loved this museum we went to today! Oh, Stiles!” Jackson heightened the pitch of his voice in a bad attempt at impersonating his sister, flicking pretend hair behind his shoulder.

Maggie replied by throwing a pillow at his head. “Shut up! It’s not like that!”

“Like what?” Jackson easily caught the pillow before it could even make contact.

“Like…Like what you and Lydia had together. It’s not like that.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Sure as hell sounds like it. It would take a real idiot to not see that you two have a thing for one another. Granted — it’s Stilinski so the idiocy is understandable.”

“Shut up!” she whined, but the smile on her face was uncontrollable.

As the summer went on, her relationship with Stiles had grown more and more…Complicated. She left Beacon Hills friends with him again after weeks of uncertainty. And then one phone call led into her calling him the next day, and the next day, and the day after that until it was every night before she went to bed. He was comforting and home and just so easy to talk to when her relationship with everyone in her family was on unsteady ground. She knew what it all meant but refused to acknowledge it. Not when there was an entire ocean between them.

And in the back of her mind, that thing they had yet to talk about still lingered. What it could possibly be. What the consequences of the final confession could be.

Aunt Kay’s house was different from anything that Maggie was expecting.

On the plane ride back from England, she dreamed about living in a luxurious manor the likes of Elizameth Bennet would be envious of — or a high rise penthouse apartment that Patrick Batmeman would have to murder her for. Decadent and guady decorations or high tech gadgets with sleek, modern furnishings. She really could not expect anything less from her millionaire, philanthropist aunt. After all, that was what every movie she ever watched told her that millionaires lived like.

But Maggie started to have doubts about her aunt’s luxurious lifestyle when Kay picked her up in a mid-2000s hybrid instead of a brand new sports car like she imagined.

Now, there she stood. In front of the house she would be living in for the rest of her high school career, the house she had been yearning to explore every bedecked knook and cranny of — and it was small. Stuffed into the back most corner of the Beacon Hills city limits, it was a little, bright orange hous beside a small pond.

“Not what you were expecting?” Kay chuckled a sshe hauled Maggie’s giant suitcase from the trunk of her car.

“Er — “ Maggie turned to her aunt with a shy smile. “Yeah. I guess not. I thought it would be like…A manor? Or something?”

Kay laughed again, her bright red hair swinging in her simple ponytail. “Nope. I prefer to spend my money on more meaningful things. I don’t need a big mansion all to myself.”

Maggie supposed that made sense. Kay was unmarried, had no children, and from what her father said, sh ewas barely even home in Beacon Hills. Always travelling to one of her holding companies all over the world or visiting the many charities that she supported. Maggie wondered if she would stay in town more now that she was living with her — but highly doubted that her routine would change much. She had so many businesses and people that needed her attention at all hours of the day. And Maggie didn’t want to be the stick in teh wheel that had been turning for well over a decade.

“Here’s the keys.” Kay handed them over to Maggie before lifting her suitcase once more. “Go ahead and head in — I’ll be right behind ya.”

The door was painted bright turquoise, a porch to the left overlooked the pond. And inside was sparsely decorated. A few niknaks here and there from different, exotic countries dotted the shelves and wall space. The furniture looked hardly used and the kitchen was nearly sparkling clean. It felt like she was stepping into an AirBnB freshly cleaned and ready for a vacationing family rather than someone’s actual home. There weren’t even any pictures of Kay’s family or any people at all.

She wished her brother was here. She wished her mom and dad were here. For a split second, as she stared around at the cream colored walls, her stomach dropped with regret. She should’ve just stayed in London with her family. She should have started over like Jackson and gotten to live maybe even a more normal life than she would have found in Beacon Hills. Tears stung the backs of her eyes and she blinked them away furiously. Angry at herself for making a rash decision — for nearly crying in the first place.

Then her phone vibrated in her pocket. It had finally connected to the cellular data after getting off the plane. A handful of messages flooded her screen, covering the picture of her and Jackson in front of Big Ben. Fresh tears filled her eyes. But not angry, sad tears. These were happy, grateful tears that dripped down onto her cheeks.

They were all messages from her friends. Allison welcoming her back home and telling her she got back from France only a few days before. Scott sent her a bunch of emojis expressing his emotions about her coming back. Lydia asking when they could hang out and if it could be that night. And Stiles — Stiles sent her more messages than any of them. Asking if her flight was okay, if she landed alright, if she arrived at her aunt’s house okay.

Maggie smiled. She had family here.

“Okay, so — “ Kay came through the door, red in the face from dragging the suitcase across the lawn. “What do you have in there? Bricks?”

By the time the sun was dipping down under the horizon, Maggie couldn’t decide if she was exhausted or full of energy. If she was back in London, it would be morning by now. She would have had a good night’s rest. But instead, she hadn’t slept in twenty—four hours and her internal clock was screaming in confusion. Plus, Aunt Kay suggested that she stay awake till tomorrow night to get rid of the jet lag and reorient her sleep schedule. It sounded horrible, but really, what else was there for her to do? School started tomorrow, and she couldn’t be completely asleep during the first day of classes.

For the past few hours, she had unpacking and putting all of her things away to distract her from the sleep in her eyes. Aunt Kay sat on her bed for a while and kept her company. She asked about her summer trip and also tried to pry into why Maggie wanted to come back to Beacon Hills instead of staying in England. But Maggie never gave anything away — dismissing it with a wave of her hand and a vague excuse about how California is better for her future career. Kay accepted that answer for now, but Maggie could tell that she was still unsure about it all.

“Alright, I’ve got a video conference with Japan in a few minutes. I’ll be in my office. If you need anything — seriously — don’t be afraid to interrupt.” Kay moved to stand in the doorway, hands in her jean pockets. “I’m only present for posterity reasons anyway so I’ll be muted the entire time.”

“Thanks, Kay.” Maggie smiled.

There was nothing left to do. Her room was finished for the time being, until the rest of her things were moved out of the storage unit her parents rented in town. She sat down on her bed with a sigh.

It only took a few minutes of being idle and alone for Maggie to begin torturing herself with thoughts of her family, the coming school year…And Stiles.

After she responded to his texts, telling him she was at her aunt’s house safe and sound, he asked her if she wanted to hang out. She hadn’t responded yet. Unsure what she even wanted to say. Yes. Of course she wanted to hang out with him. The phone calls and occasional skypes were not enough, she missed his dumb face. But she talked to him every day while they were separated. Sometimes well into the night in England, which was nearly five in the morning back in Beacon Hills. Meaning Stiles had to wake up early to answer her calls. And it seemed like he never minded at all. He never even mentioned it. And at the time, she didn’t think anything of it. All she knew was that she enjoyed talking to Stiles — he was her best friend, had been since they were toddlers. Growing into teenagers and an entire ocean between them wouldn’t change that.

But the implications of him waking up early to take her calls, of them calling each other every day in the first place, were starting to dawn on her. And maybe her feelings towards Stiles were changing, evolving into something new. But she wasn’t prepared to deal with that at all.

So when Lydia called and asked if she wanted to join her and Allison on a night on the town as a last hurraw for summer, she jumped at the opportunity. Anything for an excuse to ignore Stiles’ text for a bit longer and anything to help her stay awake.

Maggie knocked on Kay’s office door quietly before she opened the door. It was a bit more decorated in this room. Some travel posters were up on the walls and a few pictures were even up on the bookshelves. Kay sat at her desk with her desktop showing the live conference feed of some Japanese businessmen giving a presentation. Kay turned with a smile when Maggie entered the room.

“What’s up?” Kay asked, pulling her headphones down around her neck.

“Uh — some friends called and asked if I could hang out. Would that be okay? I’d be back by midnight at the latest.”

“Jesus, you are way more responsible than I was at your age.” She chuckled. “I would’ve just snuck out. Back by twelve, you said?”

Maggie smiled. “Yeah.”

“Go ahead. Have fun.”

In a few minutes, Maggie hopped out the door and into Lydia’s idling car. There were squeals and hard, reuniting hugs between the three girls. Then they all piled back into the car, talking excitedly about their summers and all that they got up to while they were away from one another. Allison had gone off to France with her father to recconnect with her family’s roots. Her and Maggie had visited one another over the summer. While Lydia remained in Beacon Hills — and from her stories it sounded like she spent the majority of her time trying to find a guy to replace Jackson.

When it was becoming increasingly clear they weren’t heading into town proper, Allison asked, “So, where are we going, exactly?”

Lydia didn’t respond for a moment. Then she sighed, “Er — Brad Morin’s house. He’s throwing an end of summer party.”

“And how many people are gonna be there?” Maggie asked with narrowed eyes from the backseat.

“Just a few…Brad — his brother Nick. And Garrett Kline from the swim team.”

Allison and Maggie shared a look through the rearview mirror, then Allison chidingly asked, “Is this a date?”

“It is not a date. It is a…Group thing,” Lydia explained as she drove.

“A group thing?” Seriously?” Maggie spoke up, head thrown back against the headrest as she fought off the urge to sleep. “Sounds like an orgy to me.”

Allison rolled her eyes and ignored Maggie’s comment. “Do they know it’s a group thing? Cause I told you that I’m not ready to get back out there.”

“And neither am I!” Maggie lifted her head.

“You both were in Europe and didn’t do any dating for four months?”

Allison shrugged — but then a smirk quickly tugged at her lips as she said, “The only reason Maggie’s not ready is because she already has somebody.”

Maggie’s eyes widened, she could feel a blazing heat taking over her cheeks and she was sure she was nearly red as a lobster. She knew she shouldn’t have told Allison about her Stiles dilemma — she should’ve known it would come back to bite her in the ass. But she also felt like she needed to tell someone what was going on. She didn’t feel comfortable talking to her parents about that kind of stuff, and Jackson was absolutely out of the question. It was eating her up on the inside, and when she met up with Allison in Paris it just burst out of her like a shaken up soda.

“Excuse me?” Lydia asked with a wide grin, looking over her shoulder at Maggie hiding herself in her shirt sleeves. “Did you find some European hunk to try long distance with?”

“N-No,” Maggie replied, face shoved deep into her forearms.

“Well, what then? Who?” Lydia insisted, looking to Allison for help.

“She talked with Stiles every day this summer.”

“What?” Lydia gasped in something that sounded like a mix of horror and jubilation, “Stiles? Seriously?”

Maggie groaned, nearly wrapped her arms around her entire head. “Possibly — yes — maybe.”

“Oh, my God! Finally!”

Allison giggled as she turned in her seat to get a proper look at Maggie. “So have you actually decided if you like him or not?”

“That is still up for debate,” Maggie said, voice muffled by her arms.

“Have you talked to him? Since you got back?”

Her arms flopped back down to rest on the leather seat of the car. “We texted a little. He asked to hang out and I…Kinda ignored him.”

“Are you kidding me?” Lydia scoffed, “You’re here with us instead of being with the guy you’ve clearly been in love with since sixth grade?”

Allison’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Since sixth grade?”

“Oh, my God, Lydia! I tell you I have a crush on him once when we’re twelve! I got over it!”

“No, you clearly did not!”

“I’m sorry, can someone please tell me about this crush in sixth grade?” Allison asked.

Lydia was eager to divulge the story as the car came to a stop at a red light. Maggie sighed as she looked out the window, her cheeks still burning. Maybe she should have just stayed at home. They were on the edge of town, the dense forest lining the side of the road and reaching back and back into dark shadow. A fog rolled down the hill through the trees. Maggie had missed Beacon Hills. London had fog, sure, but it was nothing in comparison to this fog that rolled in from the bay nearly every night. London fog made for a nice morning gloom that brought a chill to the air — but broke with the morning sun. But in Beacon Hills, the mist was creepy, haunting. You never knew what could be lurking in the shadows. What beasts could be on the prowl.

“Oh, my God!” Allison gasped, Maggie’s head snapped away from the window to see what was happening, fearing an accident. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I can’t see him, not now!”

Maggie leaned forward so her head poked out between the two front seats to see what was going on. She looked out Lydia’s window to see Stiles and Scott sitting in that familiar, light blue Jeep stopped at the light beside them. Her face blanched with a fresh blush as she crashed back into the back seat.

“Shit, shit, shit!” she hissed, resisting the urge to cover her face with her arms again. “Lydia, go, just go!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him. He was trying to roll down Scott’s window, an excited smile on his face. She nearly forgot that he had grown his hair out over the summer. It looked good on him. It felt like her heart was doing vertical jumps in her chest. Elated at the sight of him but fearing the worst for when they did finally have to talk in person.

“But the light.” Lydia gestured towards the still red signal.

There wasn’t even anyone else on the road, for crying out loud! How had it not changed by now? She wasn’t ready to confront him just yet. She needed time to really figure out her feelings. But as she sat there, practically melting into the backseat so she wouldn’t be seen, she thought back to all those nights in London. How he sounded so sleepy because he had woken up at four in the morning to talk to her. How she would fall asleep with her phone pressed between her cheek and the pillow. How her heart would ache to hear his voice. How she would whisper in the darkness that she missed him — and he would say it back like it was a secret only for them.

Oh, God.

Maggie leaned forward — daring to see him dead on. But then Lydia sped off through the red light, leaving the Jeep in the dust.

“You guys alright?” Lydia asked gently.

Allison nodded her head, but Maggie couldn’t even formulate a simple answer. Her mind was racing. She was in denial all summer long. Convinced herself that it was impossible. But her heart was betraying her at every turn. Even just seeing that small glimpse of him solidified it in her mind. Her feelings were clear. And she couldn’t wait another second to talk to him.

“Lydia, stop,” Maggie said as she turned to look at the Jeep behind them. “I need to go back and talk to him.”

Allison protested the idea of being anywhere near her ex again, but Lydia slowed the car to a halt. The other two girls turned to look out the rear window with furrowed brows. The blue painted hunk of junk was stopped in the middle of the road. Maggie didn’t know if it was because the car had stalled again or because Stiles had put on the brakes.

“They’re stopped too,” Maggie said.

“Why would they stop?” Allison asked.

“It’s Stiles and Scott — do you really wanna try applying logic to those two?”

Maggie turned to give Lydia a look, but her eyes widened in fear when she spotted a giant buck barreling down the road coming straight towards their car. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Lydia and Allison’s expressions buckle in concern, but what occured next seemed to happen in slow motion.

The deer, without stopping or any hint of hesitation, ran right into the car. She could see the deer’s eyes right before it collided with the car. They were wide with something — either it was deranged or terrified. Maggie heard the metal of the car crunch and buckle beneath the deer’s weight. And could only watch as her friends turned and screamed, arms up to shield their faces as the buck’s giant antlers and head crashed through the windshield. Broken glass flew everywhere. High pitched shouts of freight filled the air. Blood from the deer’s ripped flesh splattered onto Maggie’s face along with a spray of tiny glass shards.

As soon as the glass settled with a last few tinkles of sound, Allison and Lydia leapt from the car to get away from the deer and its massive antlers. But Maggie stared at it for just a few moments longer, frozen to the spot.

It had been nearly an entire summer of normalcy. Of nothing weird happening or anything one would constitute…Supernatural.

What an apt welcome back to Beacon Hills.

“Maggie — Maggie! Are you okay?” Stiles’ voice calling from outside the car pulled her back into reality.

Not his voice through a phone. His actual voice.

The cool night air greeted her like a bucket of ice as she stepped out of Lydia’s car. Shocked her into finally processing what just happened. Her friends could have died. She would have been fine, her supernatural healing saving her from any serious injury, but Allison and Lydia…If that deer would have hit them any harder they would be dead. And she would have been able to do nothing to stop it.

Warm, inviting hands clasped onto her shoulders. She looked up to see Stiles staring down at her, concern pinching his brow. A lopsided grin overpowered her. Everything was fine. No one got hurt. Stiles was there. God, she had missed him. He looked worried now, his fingers working into the flesh of her shoulders maybe a little too tightly. His brown eyes, deep and dark as freshly turned graves in the twilight, invited her to be buried alive. But it wasn’t like she minded. She missed looking into those eyes so much. Those eyes that comforted, that let her in on every joke, that accepted her. All those worries that plagued her fled her mind when she looked into those eyes.

This, right here, felt like coming home after months away. Or was this what it felt like to be in love?

“Hi,” she finally managed to whisper.

Stiles huffed out a laugh from his nose and moved his hands to her elbows, pulling her in just a little closer. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Maggie looked back at the totaled vehicle as if she had forgotten it was there in the first place. “I’m okay.”

“You’ve got — er — “ Stiles smiled as he pulled a piece of glass from her forehead.

Maggie reached up in surprise to feel the small cut, the wetness of her own blood on her fingers. But she could feel the wound already beginning to heal. But then, God, she couldn’t help it. She looked back up at Stiles and smiled. And he smiled right back. A shy sort of grin that he had never shown her before.

“Well, I’m not okay!” Lydia suddenly screeched, “I am totally freaking out! How the hell did it just run into us?”

Maggie and Stiles nearly jumped as they turned to look at the rest of the group. Scott was standing with Allison while Lydia was off to the side by herself, still very pale and obviously shaken. Maggie reached out and took hold of Lydia’s trembling hand as Scott moved to investigate the deer. Stiles went with him. Lydia squeezed her fingers fiercely, trying to pull some confidence and security from her friend. Maggie grasped her hand back.

“I saw its eyes just before it hit us.” Maggie looked around at the group as she spoke. “It was like it…Like it was crazy — Or — “

“No. It was scared.” Scott placed his hand on the deer’s broad neck. Feeling the last of the animal’s endorphins and hormones. “Actually — Terrified.”

Maggie’s brow furrowed as Lydia crushed her hand in a vice like grip. Though to her, it didn’t really feel like much. What could possibly scare a deer so badly that it would run right down the middle of the road? Deer weren’t that smart, but they weren’t stupid enough to do that. But this one had been. A chill ran down Maggie’s spine that left her teeth chattering.

Welcome back to Beacon Hills, indeed.

Stiles offered to drive everyone back home. For a moment, Lydia tried to insist that they still go to Brad Morin’s house for the party. But Allison and Maggie both agreed that they were no longer in the mood — and that they never really wanted to go in the first place. Scott’s house was closest, since the boys were heading in that direction in the first place. Then Lydia, shortly followed by Allison who had moved into the new highrise apartments downtown just a few days ago.

And just like that, it was Maggie and Stiles alone in the Jeep. It was quiet for a while. A heavy sort of silence where she could feel words bubbling up her throat but she couldn’t get them out. Couldn’t say anything that was on her mind. It was all too much. She missed him. She didn’t want to go back to Kay’s place just yet. She wanted to just ride around in this Jeep for hours, like they used to when he first got his liscence.

She loved him.

“How was your flight?” he finally asked.

“Good.” She nodded her head with a cough to hold down that last thought, popping her feet up onto the dash. “Time difference is driving me crazy though. Gotta stay up until tomorrow night so my sleep schedule won’t be all out of whack.”

“Oh, Jesus. That’s gonna suck at school tomorrow.”

“Tell me about it. I already feel exhausted.” The short lived adrenaline from the deer crash had already worn off.

“I could stay up with you.” Stiles glanced over at her as he drove, adjusting in his seat awkwardly. “If — If you want.”

Maggie chuckled. “I think I already messed up your sleep enough, Stiles.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, gentle and honest, “I never mind.”

It felt like he had stolen the very breath out of her lungs. The words were on the brink now — about to burst from her like a sudden thunderstorm. She had never felt so warm and so cold at the same time.

But there was one thing that still nagged at the back of her mind.

“Why were you mad after Matt died?” she asked quietly, afraid that the question itself was about to break something. And maybe it was.

“I — I wasn’t mad, Mags, honest,” Stiles replied, his voice serious and thick, “I was just…Shit. I don’t know how to say this.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. Cause…We talked all summer and I avoided it but I really don’t think I can anymore.” He glanced over at her as he drove, clearly just driving mindlessly as he was headed in the complete opposite direction of Kay’s house.

Maggie swallowed hard. “Avoid what?”

They came up to another red light and Stiles stopped the Jeep with his head hung low. To Maggie, it felt like the entire universe had slowed down just for this moment. Just to torture her for sins unknown.

“I wasn’t — I wasn’t mad about Matt. I was jealous. I wanted to…I wanted to be with you. But ya know — I thought that…You thought of me as just your goofy friend Stiles. Or whatever.”

The final confession sat heavy between them for a moment. Maggie stared at her worn sneakers propped on the dash — rimmed in red fluorescent light from the intersection. Was this really happening?

“And I — I still feel the same way.”

Maggie finally was able to find words, small and slow ones, but still words. “You…Liked me?”

“Yeah.”

“And you…And you still like me?”

Stiles scoffed with a smile. “You think I would’ve woken up at five in the morning to call you all those times if I didn’t?”

Everything inside Maggie lifted and swelled until suddenly she was launching herself across the middle console. Stiles grunted in surprise as she flung her arms around his neck, but was quickly silenced when her lips crashed against his own. It was uncomfortable, the seatbelt dug into Maggie’s shoulder, and he had an awkward time getting his hand into her hair — but it was beautiful. It was beautiful because it was their first kiss. After all those years of wondering and sidestepping the conversation, of ignoring feelings and denying accusations from friends. It was finally happening. Maggie felt Stiles smile into the kiss as a grin stretched her own lips.

A car honked behind them. The light turned green.

The two of them jumped apart. Stiles started driving again with an awkward cough.

But the smiles on both of their faces were wide and full of an insurmountable joy.

#teen wolf #teen wolf x oc #teen wolf oc #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski fanfic #stiles stilinski fanfiction #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski x maggie whittemore #oc community #oc appreciation #ocappreciation

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enasallavellan · 3 years

Text

Chapter 145

Enasal tries to grapple with Cullen's withdrawal on her own and then it's Varric to the rescue.

Quick note: I didn't like how they did the oh-so-deadly lyrium withdrawal in the game. We see Cullen grumpy and bickering with Cassandra, and another with him lobbing his kit at the Inquisitor and then leaning on the desk with a manly groan of pain. So yeah, I thought that was stupid so I'm changing most of this whole arc.

"Not Tomorrow" - Silent Hill

It wasn’t at all what Enasal had expected.

She had expected the illness, the bouts of delusion and the irritability.

But she was somehow ill-prepared for all of it.

Sometimes he wanted her to be there with him, ask for her to come close or talk to him. Then sometimes he would shout at her to get away, either for fear that something would harm her or fear of whatever he thought she was. Once, his eyes unfocused and he sat up, throwing a discarded tankard at her. Luckily, he was too tired and weak for a decent throw, so Enasal was able to duck away in time. But when his eyes focused back again when the tankard hit the far wall with a resounding smack he shook his head, “Andraste’s mercy, Enasal! I’m so sorry, it - it wasn’t-”

She had tried so hard to calm him down, to tell him she understood but he just kept repeating, “You weren’t you! There was something else but you stepped into its place!”

Voldin had warned of the excruciating pain Cullen would feel in his head and through his body, but Enasal wasn’t prepared for that pain to intertwine with delusions and confusion which drove him to sob as she tried to hold him. But he was unable to stay still, either shivering so violently that he seemed to seize or trying to get up before falling back down to the ground.

During his calmer times, she would speak to him, sometimes singing the songs she remembered her grandmother or sister singing to her when she was ill. Sometimes he would even talk to her, weakly and anxiously. In these times she tried to get him to eat - but he was never able to keep it down. Even water had to be given in very small increments. Despite how obvious it was that his body was dehydrated and aching for water, his lyrium-parched body and mind demanded nothing but that - lyrium.

He once begged for it.

He told her that he was dying, that he simply couldn't do that.

He was dying.

But when Enasal had called the healers, he had noticed one of them had lyrium to use if it became life or death.

“No!” He had shouted, “Keep that the hell away from me!”

“Cullen, nobody is giving you lyrium!”

“I see it!” His eyes were strange; less like the warm honey she was used to and more like distant fire, “I will die before I ever taste that poison again!”

The healer was sent away and it seemed to calm him down. But he remained agitated, managing to stand and pace around his office, fingers twitching as he muttered under his breath. It was his sixth day with no proper sleep, nothing more than a few minutes here or there - and it was Enasal’s third.

For the first time since she had returned, she had managed to get him to lay down on the bedroll, and he had fallen into an uneasy sleep. She counted the seconds, the minutes until he would surely wake again but… he stayed asleep. She pressed her hands to chest, feeling for a heartbeat in a moment of panic that perhaps his sudden stillness wasn’t caused by sleep but by death.

Enasal burst into tears as the word came to her, despite the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her palms. The room seemed somehow smaller and the silence unbelievably loud, and it was so hot even with the doors cracked and the hole in the roof uncovered and -

Silent Hill 2 Magdalene (Extended)

Enasal hadn’t planned on it.

In fact, she didn’t even know that she had done it.

But between blinks she found herself outside, sitting on a barrel just outside his office and sobbing. She vaguely remembered a nearby soldier running off, but she was too tired to notice, too tired to care.

She jerked at the feeling of hands on her face and a voice saying, “Seastorm, how long have you been here?”

Through blurry eyes, Enasal recognized Varric, whose brow etched with worry as he tilted her face this way and that to look at her.

“Seastorm?” He repeated.

Enasal pointed weakly behind her, “I haven’t left I… I can still hear him if he wakes up, I just…”

Varric gently turned her to face him again, taking in a deep breath and slowly letting it off, leading her to unconsciously mimic him. When he had her attention he smoothed her hair, “This isn’t good for you. You need to get out of here.”

She broke away from his gentle grip and shook her head, “No, I told him I wouldn’t -” She tried to hop off the barrel, but her knees buckled and she fell to the ground, Varric barely managing to catch her.

When he heaved her up, she was shaking his head, “I did leave him! Varric, I have to go back in, I promised him-”

“No.” He said firmly, “You’re going to get some sleep.” He gestured to one of the onlooking guards, “I don’t care who you get, but I want someone here to watch Curly in five minutes, she’s got to go.” The guard gave him a quick nod before they quickly left their post.

Enasal shook her head, “Okay, okay.” She pulled her arm away, starting back into the office, “I’ll go upstairs and-”

“And you’ll lay there listening to every single sound and not sleeping at all.” Varric finished, looping his arm around hers, “This isn’t your choice anymore, this isn’t good for you.” Voldin passed by, patting Varric on the shoulder as she closed the door to the office behind her, “So there. Not your fault. I’m dragging you away.”

“Please.” She pleased, “If he wakes up and I’m not there-”

“Then Voldin will tell him you were awake for three days and I came and dragged you away to rest.” He leaned in and grinned, “Do you really think Curly will be upset with you?” When she didn’t respond, Varric pulled her with him, “You’re going to go to sleep in your own bed at least until dawn, alright?”

“I can’t sleep.” She argued, “I’m just…” She lowered her head.

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna stay with you.” He said, “It’ll be just like old times! You'll be asleep in bed and I’ll be on the floor worrying about this weird elf I met on a mountain.”

He had hoped it would make her laugh, or at least smile, but all she did was nod and allow him to lead her away. He ended up carrying the slightly taller woman, having a guard let him into her room so he could put her to bed. She rolled over to look at him, eyes still brimming with tears.

“What am I going to do if Cullen dies?”

Varric forced a laugh, “Curly? He’ll live just-”

“What am I going to do?” Enasal repeated, the question melting into a sob.

“Seastorm…” He sat on the edge of her bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin before laying his hand on her head, “Curly? He’s going to be fine - he’s through the worst of it.”

“How do you know?” She whispered.

Varric smiled, “Because he’s asleep.”

She turned her head into the pillow, continuing to cry.

“Did you see Voldin go in there? Calm as a nug full of elfroot. Don’t you think his childhood friend would be freaking out a little bit if something was wrong?”

Slowly, Enasal turned her face back to face him.

“There’s my girl.” He smoothed her hair back, “Did I ever tell you about the time Blondie, Rivani and I got drunk and moved every piece of furniture in Broody’s decrepit mansion three inches to the left?”

Enasal shook her head.

Varric leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together as he stared, “Well, Hawke and Fenris had disappeared somewhere, and the rest of us were bored - so what else to do but start drinking...”

It didn’t take long for his familiar voice to calm Enasal’s rampant thoughts, ones so similar to when she had first come to the Inquisition, to when she had first met Varric. His stories and voice had done so much to help keep her calm and make her feel safe in those early days.

And as her eyes closed, it was obvious that he had never lost his touch.

If you’re willing and able, feel free to my ko-fi here to help me keep the lights on!

Read the full from the beginning at my A03 here!

#enasal lavellan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfic #dragon age fic #dragon age fanfiction #dai #dai fanfic #dai fic #dai fanfiction #dragon age inquisitor #Cullen #Commander Cullen #Cullen Rutherford #Varric #Varric Tethras

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