#so the idea of them kissing should be forbidden but sacred for both

[azuries]

take me where gods cant judge

[sn-ryter]

Small Town Legends: Mabon Moon

It all started with a feast on the night of the full moon where the time wheel switched from Litha to Mabon. Two star-struck lovers meet for the very first time. A soft kiss to the hand for the respect of the lady in red and a hidden smile at the tip of the lips.

He was a son of a humble farmer who enriched the land with fruits and vegetables. The son wanting more from life than dirt and back labor. He wanted to be a guard of the Lord's table. From the ripe age of seven, he would learn about sword fighting, valor, and honor. Everything he needed to know about being a guard. For sixteen years, he trained every single day from dusk till dawn. On his twenty-third year, his training finally paid off and he became a guard after going through three brutal months of intense training.

She was the daughter of the Lord, who loved money more than the people he swore under oath to protect and prosper. Some of the townspeople loved him while others loathed the Romano name. With the threats growing more every day. With Iliana being the only heir, her father needed her to be protected at all times. With this decision, the Romano's held a feast in the new recruits honor.

What they both did not know is that fate had other plans for them.

She was supposedly destined to marry a duke from another country. He had his eyes on her since the day she became of age. With her beauty and grace amongst the people, she was the hidden gem to any man's heart. He courted her, gave her precious gifts, but behind closed doors there was another man who slowly stole her heart.

With the uprising from the east swiftly moving in, Dimitri Bartolini, one of the newest guards to be honored by the Lord, was now Iliana Romano's protector, her personal body guard. Long nights talking through an oak wooden door, turned into days where she would sneak off and gift him fresh food and wine.

It did not take long for them to seal their hearts for lifetimes to come.

One night, Iliana wanted to take a stroll out into the gardens when the moon was at its highest peak. Which meant no other eyes should see the two almost lovers do what is forbidden. At the stroke of twelve, they met at the darkest corner of the fountain. His masculine arms wide open for her to make her home in. After a shared secret kiss, he led her to the caves on the coast where the salty waters of the Mediterranean Sea would crash against the shore line. Placing her on a boulder, his lips would crash with hers, their clothes peeling off of one another. The gasps echoing around the rocklike tunnel. They made love for the very first time.

Days turned into months of secretly meeting one another at the hidden getaway, the cave. Making love with almost every meeting, she finally became pregnant with his unborn child. With the Duke still on her trail, and what her father expects of her, she had no idea what to do or who to turn to. So, one night she and the guard meet once again. After one sacred kiss after another, with tears in her eyes, she started to tell him the news. If word got out, Dimitri's head will be sliced off his body at the guillotine and she will be cast off to the brothel. After moments of thinking, going back and forth with their options, they decided to run away together, far away.

Later in the night, Alexander, one of the many guards of the Romano Manor, confronted Dimitri that night, explaining what he saw in the cave with him and Iliana, and how it is forbidden and what the consequences were. After a lengthy chat, the two men came to a silent agreement. Alexander will remain silent as long as he gets to have silver and gold when Dimitri is gone. Dimitri already knowing he could not trust Alexander with his life, he went to a witch that lived in the Dark Forest, just past the circular clearing where the clear night sky would shine above. He begged the witch to bound Iliana and himself for all eternity. Giving him the warning of the sacrifices and hardships they will face in future lives, he shook her hand in agreement, giving the witch an emerald and silver pendant that belonged to Iliana, it was her most prized possession.

The next morning, they go about their daily routine as if they had nothing planned. Except one thing stood in their way of death or freedom. Alexander, one of the guards, who just happened to catch the pair on one of their nightly outings recently had watched the whole thing unfold. The candles dimly lit around the cave, the scratch marks on Demetri's shoulders, the gripping of her thighs, everything. As dark of a fate that would bring upon the manor, the guard did what he promised he would not do. He told the Lord about the adultery early the same morning.

As the day went on, the two lovers met at the docks in disguised clothing. As they were boarding, something didn't feel right with Iliana. She started to cough, at first it was a light cough as if something was tickling her throat, soon though, it got worse and worse. Blood started to come up her throat, spattering all over Dimitri's shirt as he held her and pleaded with God himself to make her be okay. Within the hour Iliana and the unborn child passed away.

Dimitri, whom was full of anger and grief stormed back to the manor immediately finding Alexander. With his hand around his throat he demanded to know what happened. The guard trembled in his wake before spitting out the truth. Looking Dimitri in the eyes, he confessed to telling the Lord and that the Lord had ordered the chef to lace her drink with poison at breakfast, and that they were after him next if he doesn't go now. The blue hues from Dimitri's eyes turned stone cold black. How could a father kill his only child? For his revenge on Alexander, he cut out his tongue and slit his throat with the blade his father had gifted him.

The next person on his list was none other than the chef for going along with the ruthless Lord's plan. Finding a flaming hot steel rod that had a pig roasting on it, he grabbed it despite the temperature and pierced it right through the chef's body, impaling him. For the last person, he went straight to the Lord's chambers and awaited for the Lord to come back. Vowing that his face would be the last one the Lord get's to see before his heart gets ripped out.

Sitting on the brick window ledge, the sound of a door handle signaled Dimitri that the time has come. Watching the Lord waltzed in as if he didn't have a care in the world. Quietly standing up, as the Lord's back was turned, changing out of his clothes. When the lord was completely naked, Dimitri blew out one candle. "First you were born and groomed to be the lord." Dimitri stated in a deep voice, sliding the tip of his sword against the wooden floor. "Next, you made an oath that you have broken many of times." Blowing out another candle, he walked closer towards the Lord so he had no way to sheath a weapon of any sorts. "Then you find out your daughter is in love with a guard, and bearing his child in her womb... So you murder her. Your own flesh and blood but from the hands of another." With a low crackling laugh from Dimitri, anyone could tell he was on a blood lust for his bride to be. "As for that, you must be sacrificed."

As the Lord was about to call out for the guards, Dimitri slashed his throat with one quick swift. As the Lord fell, Dimitri, cut open the Lord's chest. Slowly and gratifying. Watching the Lord slowly suffer, blood pooling all around his body. Watching the life slowly dying inside the middle aged man's body, Dimitri dug his hand into the chest cavity and gripped the heart that was beating slowly and ripped it out like it was nothing. "I will see you in hell." Dimitri said in a hushed voice, spitting on the dead man's face before getting up and placing the heart inside of a box.

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@SNRyter

[chunhua-s]

im gonna CRY, this is like the 3rd time im sending this: OKAY-- ushijima <33 and a royalty au maybe? whether he's the loyal knight or loving king, i will take anything <33 ily davi ur so cool and btw ur handwriting is SEXC

i’m putting the note at the end because really? they clog a lot of space 🧍🏽‍♀️

YOURS ➽ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA X READER

genre: angst

au: royalty, time travel

warnings: uh nothing went as i planned for in this oneshot and i’ve hurt myself with it enough to the point of a headache :D

when you open your eyes, you’re greeted by the night sky, though there’s something about it that gives you pause. the stars above you aren’t the same ones from your city — the ones that could only hope to shine against thousands of bright lights. the stars above you are brilliant in their light, loud with a declaration of glory and untold miracles that flow across the darkest purples and blues of midnight in rivers of silver. they’re radiant, telling you stories of worlds far beyond what you could ever dream of, and they draw your breath on frost and smoke as it falls from your lips. and should you have asked yourself — where does venus hide among this canvas of light, where does her red outshine the bursts of silver, the trails of gold that glow brighter than the sun, you’d never find your answer.

“(y/n)?”

it’s hard for you, but you manage to pull your eyes away from the night sky, and when you allow them to return themselves to the earth, your breath escapes you once more.

he’s standing amidst an old garden, his face familiar while being like that of a stranger. under the moonlight, you wonder if he’s an apparition, merely a figment of your imagination that approaches you with slow, almost cautious steps. he calls your name again and his voice carries to you on a chilling wind, it ghosts across your skin and fills up your lungs with the oxygen you’d forgotten to take. olive eyes glisten like deep ponds when he finally stands before you, and as you seek out your voice to respond to him, you find that it’s lost its strength.

“ushi-... ushijima?”

and truly, the face that you see before you is that of wakatoshi ushijima. his hair, the shape of his face, and even his lips that now twist into something of a helpless smile. here is the man who you’ve worked with for so long as the dietitian of japan’s national volleyball team; the man who you watched grow through high school, whose transformation reminded you of a cosmos flower in autumn; the man whose smiles told of secrets shared on late phone calls and a voice as calm as the ocean waves at night.

and yet, there’s nothing here of that man you know.

the wakatoshi ushijima you see carries the same regality that he always does, the same grace and silent power that flows from him just as the maroon cotton flutters around his body like waves. he’s always been the perfect picture of royalty, you consider, but here, with assured steps and a certain hush to the normally domineering force he exudes on the court, he really does appear to you like an emperor.

he chuckles lightly, a deep sound that rumbles in his chest and travels through your entire being as his eyes search your expression. there’s something that glistens on starlight, a certain warmth that you’ve yearned for on your loneliest nights, when his gentle words would pull you into deep slumber. does he see the way your brows furrow, the way your lips part with questions you don’t even know the beginnings to? “i thought i told you to call me wakatoshi, didn’t i?” he whispers, his tone soft and gentle, careful just as the hand that reaches up to cup your cheek. your heart stutters under the brushes of his thumb, and you’re sure that he can feel the heat spreading across your skin. “what are you doing out so late? and barefoot, nonetheless.”

he’s right. your feet sink beneath blades of grass as if they would be embraced by them, drops of dew clinging to your skin and causing a chill to travel up your spine. looking into ushijima’s eyes, you have no answer — neither for his question, nor for this strange situation you’ve found yourself in.

with concern melting into his warm gaze, he studies you for a while longer, the thumb that had been rubbing circles into your cheek coming to a stop as he ever so slightly tilts your head back to meet his gaze. at the same time, he’s leaning his head forward ever so slightly, as if to meet you half way. “(y/n)?”

“i—” your words fall short, disappearing under the night air when you try and speak. your eyes fall from his patient gaze, and all your attention is given to the green grass that, beneath the starlight, gives itself to a colour you can’t find the name for. this, you’ve decided, isn’t your world. it can’t be — the stars don’t shine as brightly as they do here, and neither does the air encompass you as if it yearned to kiss your skin. and in your world, wakatoshi ushijima has never held you so gently, and his eyes don’t sing to you poems of a feeling lost on your wildest fantasies. you force air into your lungs when you meet olive hues and try your best to speak with a wavering voice. “ushijima, what’s going on?? i don’t— where are we?”

you see confusion etch lines around his lips and between his brows as he frowns. “what do you mean? we’re in the palace garden, of course.” he says it so assuredly, confident, yet his words are hushed in a secret shared by the both of you. and the way he looks at you, you feel terrible for not knowing that secret. it feels as if somehow, you’d betrayed something sacred by taking the face and name of someone he might hold dear — maybe in this world, in this time, there’s a you who knows ushijima’s love.

“i’m sorry...” you mutter out, guilt and shame unwarranted yet potent behind your words as your eyes lock with his. “i think there’s been some sort of mistake. i’m—” you force yourself to swallow, to breathe; you find that the task comes difficult and your body betrays you terribly. “i don’t think i’m the person who you think i am.”

ushijima’s gaze falters, the hand that had so lovingly warmed your face falls to your shoulder and his fingers grab on to you tightly. “what do you mean...?” there’s a bit of a broken laugh that bubbles from his lips, and to you, it’s as foreign as the night sky above you, because there has never been a time when you’d ever seen him so vulnerable, open, pained. it’s new, and it scares you. it makes you want to wrap him into your arms and to take back everything you’ve said, to selfishly become the person he sees in you — the you whom he loves and cherishes so dearly. “you’re you, aren’t you? you’re (y/n)... my (y/n).”

you shake your head weakly, tears lining your eyes as feelings you’d long since fought against begin to spill from your aching heart like rain. every i love you that you’ve ever whispered to your starless sky burns your skin and sets an unbearable fire alight inside your chest, and the smoke clouds your brain and makes you forget your reality. my (y/n), he’d said — he’d called you his, his (y/n), with all the certainty and confidence in the world, as if those words should stand as true as the moon should shine at night, and oh, how desperately you wished they were true. you wished with all your heart that you really were his. but to look into his eyes, so hopeful, so loving and so, so beautiful in the starlight, you can’t find it within yourself to lie. not to him, and not to yourself. and so you steel your heart and abandon those feelings, and you lift your hand to pull his away from your shoulder, ignoring the pain that could blind you from its intensity. “i’m sorry...” you whisper, and this time, the hushed words bring no secrets, no sweet affections or longings told when the night showers your bodies in silver. it tears you apart and leaves your wounds to fester. “i’m really sorry, but— but i’m not them...”

“i’m not your (y/n).”

chile im so sorry this took so long!! and uh.... see i originally started this oneshot with a cute idea in mind??? but 🤡 somehow it turned into angst and uh.... but anyways!! i had these two requests and i thought “hey, why not combine them!” and it was the perfect opportunity to push my emperor! ushijima agenda 🤩 well.... that was the original intent? but somehow i got sidetracked.... again.... and didn’t really focus on that 😗 in summary? nothing went as i planned for this oneshot and somehow i ended up with a short angst oneshot that could work for an entire plot. like deadass?? i have the whole thing planned out in my head already and i was tempted to go off on it but it would become too long and i wouldn’t have a resolution for it all... or at least not one that didn’t involve pain. so, basically, reader in emperor! ushi’s world would have been like a palace worker who grew up with toshi, and they’d have fallen in love, but it’s ✨forbidden✨ because toshi would have already had his s/o chosen for him. on the flip side, modern world reader is team japan’s nutritionist and they, similarly grew up with toshi, but they have feelings for him that they don’t ever let show because they’re worried that they would destroy what they have with him already. if i went on with the plot, it would have shown reader going about palace life and their interactions with toshi, along with a handful of challenges that they’d have to face. this idea was highly inspired by one of my favourite k-dramas, scarlet heart ryou (a really good watch i def recommend it) but yeah! that’s the end of my rant! (it’s not. i’m stopping myself because if i don’t i’ll never shut up about it.) but anyways!! i really hope you guys enjoyed this oneshot! it feels good to write something after a while — if any of you guys have any thoughts or anything i’d love to hear them!!

taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @tsumue @bootylikepeachy @waitforitillwritemywayout @mixxfi @shnnn @janellion

send an ask to be added or removed!!

[curiosityunsated]

In Pursuit of the Scholarly

Triggers: Racism against elves. If there’s anything else you feel should be mentioned, please let me know. No violence included.

Not beta read, cross posted on AO3. Also, I have no idea of the Sindarin here is accurate- I used a translator I found on Google. Don’t @ me.

——

Prince Kíli, second in line for the throne of Erebor, was incandescently angry.

The Council sat and watched, though most did not really listen, as the Prince railed at them and yelled counter arguments and indignity. Most of the council, save for a very select few outside of the presence of the royal family, were not swayed by the show of temper. Some, in fact, looked rather smug (though those were typically not well liked in the Lonely Mountain).

The King, the King’s Consort, the Princess Royal, Prince Fíli, and Her Ladyship Tauriel sat in tense silence as their kinsman slowly ran out of steam. Tirade ended, he stared at the Council and waited.

Kern, who had held his seat on the Council even prior to the Desolation, was barely able to swallow his smirk before he responded.

“Be that as it may, Your Highness, Khuzdul is our sacred language, and it must be... protected. It is... understandable,” it looked as though the word hurt to say, “that you would wish to share it with your wife. But I’m afraid that we cannot agree with your insistence to allow Princess Thiliriel to take Khuzdul lessons.”

The young father bristled, and for a brief moment the Council braced for another round of ire. But it wasn’t the Prince Kíli who spoke, but Prince Fíli.

“Surely you see how difficult it would be to keep Thiliriel from learning Khuzdul completely, my Lords, as she lives in a Dwarven city. Some would say restricting her education in this way was born of ill will directed at the race of her forebears.” He pointed out, politely. Kern’s eyes narrowed.

“We can’t control the opinions of the uninformed, your highness,” he allowed, “and it is understood that there has been, and will be, some unfortunate transference. But perhaps this may be managed if the Royal Family would consider limiting their use of Khuzdul while in the company of the young Princess?” His polite tone matched Fíli’s syllable for syllable.

The Royal Family, save Lady Tauriel, stiffened as one. Prince Fíli’s eyes glinted at the response.

“We are approaching the Noonday bell. Perhaps this is a matter best settled another time.” Balin tried to intervene, and another dwarf would have accepted it for the diffusion that it was. The majority of the Council was prepared to do so, had Kern not spoken.

“I believe we’ve made our decision clear, Lord Balin, but thank you for the reminder. A pleasant day, my Lords.”

And an infuriated Prince Kíli was storming out of the chamber after Kern’s final words, gently tugging Lady Tauriel with him, even before the King had officially ended the meeting.

——

It started with Prince Fíli. This, perhaps, should not have surprised the Council as it had.

The Prince had been spotted, overheard really, in a training ring with the young Princess. That itself wasn’t unusual; the heir had made it routine to ‘train’ with his niece a few times a week, and nearly all the dwarrow who frequented the upper training halls had seen the two playing rambunctiously under guise of hand to hand combat. If this time usually came just before the Princess’ bedtime, well, no one could say Prince Fíli wasn’t efficient.

As far as the Council could gather, the incident happened just before the Royals had left for the evening. The Prince had been crouched on the ground, beckoning the little one forward and playfully taunting her. She had responded in kind, rushing at her uncle and jumping at him with a battle cry that, according to multiple reports, was very cute. He had taken her momentum and propelled himself backwards, landing flat on his back. And then, he had exclaimed:

“Cin got nin! Im’m dad!”

Apparently no one had clearly heard what the little one had said, but the Prince had smiled and kissed her forehead, replying:

“Cin did eithel, lend emel.”

Of course the Prince knew multiple dialects of elvish- the entire royal family did- but only so that they could interact with Elvish representatives without fear of coercion! It was unheard of for it to be spoken so- so- familiarly within an everyday setting! Especially in a Dwarven stronghold such as Erebor! Even Lady Tauriel chose to speak mostly Westron in the presence of the mountain’s public eye. It had left the Council feeling slightly wrong-footed, but perhaps it had been a one-time occurrence. A bit of practice, perhaps, so the Prince wouldn’t get rusty.

It was not a one-time occurrence. Only days later, King Consort Baggins was overheard in the library casually reading aloud to Princess Thiliriel in Sindarin... though the book itself was Westron! The Head Librarian hadn’t even asked him to lower his voice- though as the Head Librarian was the young Ori, son of Lori, that wasn’t surprising in the least. The former Company of Thorin Oakenshield was very close, even now.

Lord Ori had even pointed out a few words and asked for the translation in his own book, an act which garnered stares of its own.

The next day, Prince Kíli and Lady Tauriel gathered stares of their own as they strolled through the market, Princess Thiliriel between them, speaking exclusively in Sindarin! In the middle of the Marketplace! At one point, one scout reported, the Prince had swung his daughter around in his arms, exclaiming something in the lyrical language he hadn’t understood. It must have been humorous, though, because both Mother and Daughter had burst into giggles.

But the final straw, really, had happened in the Council’s very chambers during a meeting. Princess Dís, during a moment between agenda topics, had turned to her brother and quite clearly addressed him in Sindarin. And the King, with no hesitation, replied in Sindarin.

The entire room went silent, and many stared. Only Prince Fíli and Lord Balin continued perusing the paperwork for the next order of business as though nothing was amiss.

“Is everything alright, My Lords?” The King asked dryly, noticing the attention.

“It is just... well, you see...” Lord Tírn stumbled as the King turned his attention to him, and Kern interrupted.

“It isn’t like you to speak Elvish when there aren’t any Elves around, Your Majesty.” He interjected, and Thorin raised an eyebrow coldly.

“And you would know me well enough to make such an observation?” The Council watched as Kern blanched and then flushed.

“We’ve been hearing quite a lot of Elvish around the Mountain these days, Your Majesty.” He didn’t answer The King’s pointed question.

“Sindarin, Lord Kern. Not ‘Elvish’. There are multiple dialects. And since my granddaughter has been forbidden from learning her Father’s sacred tongue, we have decided to use her Mother’s instead.” Princess Dís replied, and if Thorin was cold then his sister’s tone was frozen solid. The Council felt a rush of fear run down their spines.

“Yes. In fact, I’ve been considering asking Prince Legolas to visit soon- Lady Tauriel is both a working ‘dam and a mother, and I don’t want to take more of her time but there are a few grammar questions I have that Lord Bilbo can’t seem to explain.” The Prince’s tone could be described as bland, even self-musing, but the flash of steel in his eye as he glanced at Kern.

“I- I suppose it would be good for our relations with Mirkwood for the Prince to visit-“ the Councillor tried, and was interrupted.

“Perhaps we should revisit the idea of an Elvish Ambassadorship, as a permanent position in the Court.” The King stated, and Kern turned an ugly puce color.

“Elves living in Erebor!?” He erupted, evidently at the end of his rope.

“My Brother’s Wife is an Elf. I would be very careful how you finish that thought, Lord Kern.” Prince Fíli said lowly, and unsheathed a knife to spin, point down, on the table with pointed intent.

“My granddaughter is part Elf. I will not hear any protest about her kin coming to stay, Councillor. Especially if you hope to keep your seat.” Princess Dís did not need to produce a weapon to aid her threat.

“I meant no disrespect, your Highnesses. I humbly apologize.”

“It seems to me, Lord Kern,” the King began, “that you have invited disrespect with your words and your conduct. Barring my grand niece from learning her Maker’s tongue- don’t look at me like that, I know who’s voice persuaded the rest of Council against it- and now making remarks of such disgust against the lineage of an heir of the line of Durin?” King Thorin trailed off, hard stare never wavering.

Kern, who had already been thrown off kilter by the Royal Family’s seemingly overnight adoption of Sindarin, floundered under such a direct accusal.

“I- Your Majesty, never-“

“In fact,” the King continued, and the Council watched the two with bated breath, “I have been in talks with some of our oldest, most practiced curates and they all agree. The right to learn Khuzdul is a matter of religion, not of politics.”

Kern turned that fetching shade of puce again.

“So while it remains a matter of courtesy for Prince Kíli and Lady Tauriel to inform the assembled Council of their plans for Princess Thiliriel’s education, they are in no way obliged to do more than consider the Council’s opinions on this particular aspect.” The King finished, and it was Princess Dís’ turn to smirk as she, and the rest of the Council, watched the pompous windbag known as Kern to puff up, process, deflate, and stiffly nod.

“Thank you, your Majesty, for reminding the Council of the boundaries of our reach. I am... sure this will not be forgotten.” The words came as easily as blood from a rock, and Kern ground his teeth as though trying to break ore from stone as he spoke.

“Oh, and Lord Kern?” King Thorin said, already looking at the papers for the next topic, and not sparing a glance for the Council.

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“I’d like for you to tell his Highness and Lady Tauriel the good news. Directly after the Council Meeting concludes. We wouldn’t want to delay the Princess’ education any longer.”

Fíli’s smile could only be described as wolfishly sharp, and he clearly inherited it from his mother.

——

Elvish translations:

Cin got nin! Im’m dad! : you got me! I’m down!

Cin did eithel, lend emel. : You did well, sweet heart.

[kombatea]

Hungry / Kabal

Warning: 18+!

Note: Gifs are not mine. If you are/know the author, contact me for proper credit.

***

„Hello baby.“ You smile when you see your cat running towards you as you finally come back from work. It was a long day and you felt like it would never end but the idea that you will spend the whole weekend with him was keeping you in the good mood. „Should I cook something? He is always so hungry when he comes back.“ You desperately look in the fridge. „Nah, he will bring something. Fast food or some fried stuff.“ You roll your eyes with a chuckle. He has such an appetite. Kabal was always the foodie type. There is no possibility to be hungry in his presence. „But at least your dinner will be healthy.“ you rub your cat's head as she starts to eat her favorite cat food. In the meantime, you undress and get in the shower. There is no such feeling as washing away the rough day away. With the eyes closed, warm water coming from the showerhead feels like summer rain. The scent of your fav shampoo makes you immediately calm.  „NOOOO!!!“ you scream as something grab you from the back by your waist. „Please, let me...“. But before you can finish your beg you slip on the slippery floor of the shower. Just a second before you fall the same pair of hands catches you and tightly embraces you in a hug. „Like to live on the edge I see.“ familiar voice laughs. „Kabal! Did you lose your mind?!“ you scream as shampoo gets in your eyes. „I´m sorry. I couldn´t resist when I heard that you are in the shower.“ he apologizes as he helps you to rinse. After a short moment, you finally see him in his whole naked glory and frown. „Can I get a kiss? Pretty please?“ There is no way that you can resist his puppy eyes. You hug him around the neck and press a long and sweet kiss on his lips. You have missed them so much. And the rest too. You help each other with cleaning your bodies and laugh the whole time. He won´t stop to crack his stupid jokes that you love so much. As you start to blow your hair with a blow dryer he starts to jump in your way just to steal some hot air for himself. „How do I look?“ Kabal asks you with the craziest mess on his head that he calls hair. „Fabulous. As always.“ you wink at him and apply the leave-in conditioner to tame the nest. Well, at least you tried because he runs out as soon as he saw what you are up to. You know that he went straight into the kitchen to browse for some snacks so you go straight into the bedroom. As you are applying the moisturizer on the legs he comes back to you. „Can I help you?“ he asks with a strange smirk. „Yeah. I mean... why not.“ You smile even though it feels a little bit strange because he has never done this. It´s always you who is in charge of moisturizing your and his skin too. Especially since he was burnt. He enjoyed it since you remember but after the incident, it´s almost like your sacred ritual. It took him a long time to even let you see him without any clothes on. Touches were forbidden for what felt like the whole eternity. And now? He is parading fully naked like his old self. You feel so happy because you thought that this will never happen. Not even in your wildest dreams. He knows that you love him without any conditions and you are the embodiment of his safe space. You handle him your body lotion while sitting on the bed watching him curiously. He studies the bottle and it takes him a few tries to figure out the type of opening. „Lay down.“ Kabal says. „Pretty please.“ He adds as he catches your surprised look. You lay down with the towel still wrapped around your body. He starts with your feet. You know that he used too much of the product just by the sound of it coming out. You chuckle. „Did I something wrong?“ he pokes out his head up. „No, everything is fine.“ you lie with a wide smile on your face. „Maybe I can do something to make you laugh even more.“ Kabal says as he starts to tickle your feet. „Don´t you dare!“ you shout and almost kick him right in the face. He knows that you are the most ticklish person on the planet. „I´m not sorry.“ he laughs. „Come back and lay down. Please.“ „Kabal I swear that something bad will happen to you tonight.“ „Oh no, poor me.“ he looks at you with a pretentious crying face. He probably calms down a little. No more mischievous tricks as he is massaging your legs with slow but perfectly pressured touch. You can tell he tries to concentrate just by how hard he frowns. „Kabal?“ you almost whisper. „Yes?“ „What´s going on?“ „Nothing. Just trying to make you relax. Why?“ he asks you without interrupting the massage. You want to say something but when you spot his look you have to laugh. He frowns so hard when he realizes that the towel is blocking the rest of your body. „Let me take care of this thing.“ he says as he stands up and unwraps you. Then he rolls you over like a sack of potatoes so he can take the towel away. Your face slowly starts to hurt from all of smiling and laughing. He is so ridiculous and loving at the same time and it makes you love him more and more. „Much better.“ He says as he looks at your naked body and continues with the massage. Slowly but surely are your giggles exchanged by an intense sensation that drowns your body in pure pleasure as he spreads your legs and kisses your inner tighs. „Kabal! Oh god... What about the massage?“ „I think it´s time for something better.“  He growls as he proceeds to kiss you on the most intimate part of your body. You immediately stop thinking and let yourself enjoy his work. He knows exactly what you like. It takes him just a moment to make your toes curl with euphoria. As your fingers dig deeper into the mattress he takes your hand and intertwines your fingers with his holding you tight. „Come to me, please.“ You whisper. He immediately gets on the top of you and takes your head in both arms as you wrap your legs around his waist leaving no space between your bodies. Skin to skin he kisses you gently but full of passion and impatience. „I´ve missed you.“ He says between the hungry kisses. „So much.“ You answer as you try to breathe in some air. He trembles as you trace his back with your fingernails. You end up with your hands on his neck pulling him as close as possible. „...love you, love you... I love you...“ he moans as you navigate his cock right there where it belongs. You melt under his warm body as he slowly fucks you. So deep that you don´t if you can handle it. „Is it good?“ „It´s perfect!“ you almost scream. In the tight embrace and with his lips all over your neck, you are unable to move. Or more like unwilling to. Where would you go when you are in heaven on earth with him. „Do you want to turn around for me?“ Kabal asks you looking deep into your eyes. „Yes... yes...“ He carefully helps you while holding your hips and being still really close to your body. You lay on your stomach and he is right back in you. Your head is resting on his arm while Kabal spreads your leg out to hold you in place. His moves get faster and faster. You feel so calm and horny at the same time. He won´t stop until he makes sure that you are fully satisfied. You caress his face while he kisses you and then proceeds to the back of your neck. Suddenly he pulls out, sits down on his legs, and pulls you back to him. You slowly dance in his lap with your hips moving from side to side. „Oh my... Yes... that´s amazing...“ Kabal growls as he holds you in a tight embrace and fucks you. „Baby... I´m ready.“ You moan and position yourself on the knees. He doesn´t need to hear more. It´s almost like a magic switch. He knows that he doesn´t need to control himself anymore. „I want to watch you as you cum for me.“ He says impatiently when he turns you over. The pace of his movements gets faster and faster. You feel that sweet sensation that comes just seconds before your orgasm. Loud moans fill your bedroom and you want to scream when he doesn´t stop even when he knows that you just cum. „... please... stop...“ „Really?“ he smiles. „No.“ He knows you and he is so proud of how hungry you are. For him, for his body, for his cock. And there is nothing that he wouldn´t give you in the exchange. Multiple orgasms? That´s just the beginning. You spent the whole night enjoying each other until you fall asleep exhausted. Kabal has much better stamina than you so every time you close your eyes to get some sleep he makes sure that you are tucked under the warm blanket. Kabal is a sucker for cuddles. Something about spooning you is so comforting and precious that he can´t fall asleep until he holds you in his arms. And you probably don´t even know about it. He loves you with his whole heart and there is no way that you will not be loved exactly how you deserve.

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LXXX

It was a love story from the very beginning.

Is Not Allowed (Part I)

(12x10a)

Hi my dears! And we arrived to one of our favorite Destiel episodes: 'Lily Sanders has some regrets.'

We have a lot of Destiel to discuss here, more of it you have read for sure already in this fandom, because we are late with the subtext, but I decided to divide this meta in two parts.

Married Couple and the Third Wheel

When the episode starts, we have our little moose and Dean having this peculiar dialogue...

SAM: I don't think we have the kind of mom who's gonna stay home and make us chicken soup for dinner, you know? You talk to Cass yet?

DEAN: No.

Sam jumps from mom, one of Dean's concerns, to Cas. He has to take this chance, and he's asking because we could assume, he was seeing something odd between them going on. (Poor third wheel), he noticed, as the insightful person Sam is, Dean and Cas are not talking to each other. He had noticed the awkward silence...

I want to hug that moose...

SAM: So, what, you're just gonna keep walking past each other in the kitchen, not saying a word?

DEAN: Maybe.

I love Yockey, because he's pointing here through Sam's lines how Dean and Cas behave like two lovers fighting. Is a married couple, and he's the poor kid in the middle. And I love his body language, because he is moving the chair as if it was a game in the park, while looking at his brother like "you are two kids. You are so in love and fight like two love birds." Hope in his eyes, because he's making his brother talk with him about Cas. This is a perfect parallel to season 8, the bunker again, and Dean mad at Cas again, but this time Sam is more used to it. And kind of amused.

SAM: Look, yes, Cass killed Billie, but he saved us. He saved Mom. How long are you gonna stay pissed?

DEAN: I'm not pissed that he cares about us, you know. I'm – I'm grateful. But Billie said there would be “cosmic consequences” if that deal got broken. You have any idea what that means?

SAM: No.

DEAN: Neither do I, but I'm pretty sure it ain't jellybeans and g-strings.

SAM: My point is, Cas thought he was doing the right thing.

CAS: I was doing the right thing.

Sam is always Castiel's attorney, he was that in season 8 saying 'Is Cas!", And he is now trying to make his brother to understand why Cas did it.

Sam is saying what Dean always says about Cas, but is not working this time, because they're already married hahahaa. Sorry. But is true.

And the bickering continues...

CAS: No. This is personal.

DEAN: Meaning what?

CAS: Another angel. An old friend. He called out for help.

DEAN: Oh. Good old reliable angel radio.

May I point here how jealous is Dean? Because every time Cas mentions angels or Heaven, he is there to spread his jealousy all over. Just thinking about Cas coming back to Heaven or to his old Garrison, makes Dean lose it.

CAS: He was begging for help and then he just stopped. I need to know if he's still alive.

SAM: Yeah, all right. Well... we'll come with you.

CAS: Both of you?

There comes the sassy look, I love it, Cas is so done with Dean's attitude, but he is not aware he's acting just like him. I know Sam is saying 'Kiss already!'

DEAN: Sure. Yeah, we could help. Gotta make sure you don't do anything else stupid.

Dean's favorite quote to exasperate his angel... The level of bickering is reaching the top, but there's still even more... Are you praying for Sammy?

The awkward silence in the car makes Sam wanting to die. Is the same sensation an old friend feels when an old couple is fighting, and he knows both of them. Being in the middle of that war is stressing.

We, as spectators, don't know if we should laugh or just feel sorry for Sam.

Is a very uncomfortable situation...

Thank you Yockey for writing this clearly as two men in love fighting, making it blatant to any eye watching.

Because we have the exaggerating reactions, the rolling eyes, the frowns and the sassiest quotes and looks. And the jealousy at his maximum expression. YES, DEAN AND CAS ARE IN LOVE AND THEY'RE FIGHTING.

SAM: All right. Guys, you know what? This – this silent treatment thing, it's silly. It's not gonna work. Whatever we're walking into, we should, you know, probably have an actual plan.

Sam is so done with it, he's just throwing some reason over there.

CAS: (sighs) What do you wanna know?

DEAN: Oh, he speaks.

SAM: Enough. Cass, you said when you heard Benjamin, he – he was screaming.

Okay, Sam is scolding his brother, because he had just asked them to stop, and he keeps acting like a child, so, time to stop him.

CAS: It was, um... Look, Benjamin wouldn't call for help lightly. And he wouldn't put himself in harm's way if he could help it.

DEAN: Wow, this Benjamin seems like he's pretty cool, you know. Like he wouldn't make any half-cocked, knee-jerk choices.

Well, look at this, Dean is far from stop, he is trying to annoy Castiel even more. Trying to throw a little of irony, and Cas will reply with some acid words...

Gif set credit @shirtlesssammy 👇

CAS: Yeah, you know what I like about him? Is that he's sarcastic, but he's thoughtful and appreciative, too.

DEAN: Now what is that supposed to mean?

SAM: Okay, okay, the road, road. Dude, watch the road.

This is one of my fav scenes, because he got so jealous over Castiel's words about Benjamin, that is hilarious, he even turns around to face the angel, ignoring he was the driver, and is SO SO BLATANT, AGAIN, SO CLEAR TO OUR EYES THEY'RE TWO LOVE BIRDS FIGHTING.

What is allowed

Let's jump now into a concept that will be explored this season and the following. Something that every angel has written in his brains: Sacred Oath.

Yockey will show us in this episode the two difference about what is allowed and what is not allowed to angels about their relationships with humans.

Pay attention to Castiel's words here...

CAS: Benjamin is always very careful. Long ago, he found a powerfully devout vessel in Madrid, and her faith, it... she gave him everything – her trust and her body.

This speech Cas makes about Benjamin and her female vessel, is nothing else than a profound bond, when he says 'she gave him everything--her trust her body.' He's talking about which kind of relationship is allowed for an angel to have with a human. Sharing vessel, is an intimate act of trust and submission. But the way Cas is talking about it, the sentiment he put on those words, is talking about something else there. So maybe Benjamin and this woman fell in love, and the only allowed way to share their lives together, was through sharing vessel. @emblue-sparks has a very interesting analysis about how this premise introduced by Yockey could be taken as a theory of Dean and Cas sharing vessels since season 13. You can find their thoughts here. I based my current Destiel endgame spec on this too, and in more clues I found mostly in season 15. You can find that spec here.

DEAN: Wait. So Benjamin's a woman.

CAS: Benjamin is an angel. His vessel is a woman. But it – it's – it's more than that. She's not just his vessel.

SAM: She's... She's his friend.

CAS: Yeah. Benjamin would never put her in unnecessary danger.

And we love Yockey, shows us here the genderless nature of angels, based on the vessels. When he says BENJAMIN IS AN ANGEL, he is saying he is not a woman, not a man, even when his pronoun is He/Him.

There will be another example when Yockey shows us fem vessel! Castiel.

When Cas says 'it's more than that. She's not just his vessel." Is giving us clues, again, about the kind of profound bond Benjamin and the spanish woman shared.

I have to cut the analysis here, and I will let the "not allowed" topics for the next meta.

To Conclude:

I consider Yockey as the Destiel guide writer in Dabb's team. Each episode he wrote, he made a guide with steps our ship will follow in the incoming chapters.

This time he is putting in order a couple of concepts about angels, allowed relationships with humans and forbidden relationships.

This is very important to understand Castiel's POV about his own feelings for Dean.

He wrote an old married couple bickering, and Sam represented all of us, trying to survive to uncomfortable silences and bitterness.

Hope you like this meta, see you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-deana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @nickelkit @anon-non2 @cea1996

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous metas from this season, here you have the links:

Vol. LXXV, LXXVI, LXXVII, LXXVIII, LXXIX

Buenos Aires, September 22th 2020 7:03 PM

[allyvampirelass29]

The December Man and His July Girl

A NOS4A2 Fanfiction A Paradise for the Lost Sequel By: Allyssa J. Watkins

Charlie Manx smirked into Ally's hair, kissing the halo shine of her resplendent curls, The Wraith roaring through a painted rapture of tree-lined mountain roads at sunset, the splendid collision of red and purple light dancing through the branches, and reflecting off the windows. The slight evening breeze soothed the sting of the radiating heat, and drifted through Charlie's rolled down driver's side, his nostrils flaring as he drank in the dusk and sundrenched pine.

"Oh Charles, how I've missed this......." Mrs. Manx reveled, falling into him, nestling her rosette crown of long, loose, curls against his shoulder as he drove, both of them luxuriating in the bold strokes of crimson, pomegranate, and violet light, and the sacred reverence in her voice was getting him drunk far more powerfully than even Abe's top shelf peppermint schnapps could accomplish. The way she looked right now, so alive, illuminated by the painted sky....... An impossible dream, far too beautiful to be had by the nightmare she loved.

"It's been an age, My Sweet........." Charlie nodded his raven head in agreement, his navy blue, flat-topped cap prim upon his magnificent waves, his smile, rare, and adoring. Here we are once more, taking the other captive, absconding to secret worlds, and yes, while I am at the wheel, I am all too happy to let you steal me away on this, our special six month anniversary. Giving chase, and playing Bonnie to my Clyde with those pesky federal agents? Why, My Dear, that's all just part of the fun. Of which you must remember, I am the president.......

"Riding in the Wraith with you, Charlie, the hum of the engine chasing our hearts, marveling at your side as you pilot the unseen pathways of the mind......." She sighed blissful, turning her cheek into his warmth, breathing the gingerbread and car exhaust that lingered seductively on his woolen chauffeur's coat, her happiness perfect. "It's unlike anything I've ever felt before, that elusive, transcendent belonging that breathes like destiny. "I'd follow you anywhere, Charles, to the edge of all creative thought, it's you, me, and the Wraith against the rest of the WORLD!!!!"

Charlie felt the trill in his heart, the fire in his coal black eyes stoked by these impassioned words, the breathlessness in her voice, unthawing the ice in his soul. Yes, My Divine...... I am your only destination, the inevitable journey. A love conspired in the dark, in the stars, bourne a hundred years ago in a graveyard, and here you are........ My Soulmate, bound to my inscape, held happily captive in my magic car.

"I could not have phrased it with more powerful eloquence, myself, Sugar Plum," He purred, draping his arm across her shoulders, his gloved nails raking through her dangling curls in long, slow, strokes.

"To the stars........ To the fractured moon and back, through universes vast, and snowcapped wonderlands......." He mused, waxing poetic, his voice like silk, and she melted beneath his lips, like ice on his tongue, as he kissed the top of her head, his nostrils flaring.

"I'm going to take you EVERYWHERE with me, Allyssa Jolene, inscapes, landscapes, seascapes, whether real or imagined, through perfect summers, and dazzling white winters, conquering them all, and leaving my whispers in the most secret places of your mind......."

His voice found its sharp edge, as she ran those soft, white fingers teasingly up his crimson waistcoat, circling around each button, before toying with the red silk of his cravat, loosening it, wanting it off him. Yes, ooooh YES, my, my, what a crafty minx kitten I have! Had I any idea our becoming fugitives would have so sultry an effect on my shy, sweet, wife, I might have considered giving those government buffoons a clue as to my whereabouts...... Charlie breathed harder, thankful that his Wraith could commandeer itself if need be........ Ready to take over, Ol' Boy? He thought sneakily, and it revved its enthused response. It would seem I'm about to become properly distracted........

"I've waited an immortal's forever to drive a girl like you too far....... " He rasped dangerously, her fingers trembling with the treacherous sound, and he pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, lowering his lips to her ear with a salacious secret. "And I don't just mean in my car........."

He eyed her slyly, with a rakish eyebrow raise, and to her paralyzing delight, ripped his cravat from his neck, and hurled it in the backseat.

"Ohhhhh yes please, Charles.........." She purred, his Manx kitten, enamoured, reaching up to press her feverish lips into his cool, soft skin, writing her kisses with such masterful prowess. He snickered, deliciously, easing his leather boot off the gas pedal, even as the Wraith picked up speed, blurring through trees brushed with the sunset's palette, his hand falling away from the wheel, as he let his car, and his girl take control.......

Ally blushed as red as the hastily removed cravat, kissing her husband's elegant neck, running her fingertips down its pleasing slope, so happy she could die....... Her voice a forbidden ecstasy.

"I have not yet BEGUN to gallivant to my heart's content, Mr. Manx, driven too far by the dark allure of a mysterious chauffeur, and his majestic car, both of them, creating one irresistible menace......."

He could feel her escaped breath on his neck, as she spoke to, and coaxed his skin with her lovely lips, his own lips parting, his mouth falling open with his climbing passion, and while she was so delectably engaged otherwise, he advanced, poised to strike, one claw tangling in her curls, the other smoothing over the soft folds of her sundress, seeking out her black nylons.

"At your service, My Darling Girl, let your driver give you a ride to desire, as well as perusing imagination itself......... Your only fare to be paid, is the untouchable........."

Charlie seized her thigh, and her eyes fluttered their surprise, his voice a ravenous rasp, his sharp nails scratching against the smooth nylon, having shed both gloves, pulling her roughly into his lap, smirking wickedly as he mouthed the words.

"Where to, Miss.......?"

He kissed her hard, sneering with the force of his passion, sliding her fluttery hemline higher and higher up her thigh, grazing his talons across her nylons, digging them in, clutching the back of her curls, drinking in her ache, her drawn out, breathy murmurs with parched lips. He could feel it happening, knowing she had no method of defense against him, her surrender sweeter every time he tasted it, and he loved this...... taking his favourite Strong Creative and making her powerless.

Good show, Ol' Sport, he chortled mischievous in his mind, his eyes flashing with sinful urge, pressing harder into those painfully soft lips, punishing her with his kiss. You’re a Gent, My Dear Fellow, for allowing me to....... properly see to my wife. As they say...... Any man who can drive safely, while kissing a pretty girl, is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves. The Wraith revved its approval rather cheekily, winking one of its headlights, as it rounded the next bend in the road. Steering wheel spinning, it maneuvered them flawlessly though the evergreen, Charlie's car navigating confidently, while both driver and passenger lost themselves in each other.

Ally's whole body hummed with Charlie's intruding warmth, the demanding hunger in his kiss, and the tantalize of his talons as they wandered up her thigh, teasing the inside of it, before sneaking up over her bodice, and whisking just as teasingly against the neckline, his other hand falling through her curls, releasing them in a cascade shine over her freckled shoulder, flicking his thumb, and its sharp nail, up and down the back of her neck, feeding off her spine's tingle.

Their aching tenderness dissolved into reckless passion, and the kiss deepened with the womanly want of him, as she clutched the back of his raven head, her other hand, exploring his chest, her body's shy desire awakened, and he could sense it, smirking into her lips, with a furtive eyebrow raise. That's it....... Relinquish the control, you need me to take the wheel....... Oh Allyssa, I know all of your body's secrets....... You can't hide them from me.  I should take you right here........ in The Wraith, lay you back against my nice, leather upholstery, Ally, watch it brush against your bare skin, as I acquit your body of its every garment torturously slow, every delicate, porcelain inch revealed, as I acquaint myself intimate, fingers burning, sensuous lips lavishing innocent curves, taking what I do not deserve....... Becoming one with My Virgin Queen, in a naked sigh of dangerous ecstasy.

He growled, aroused, yanking her head back, forcing her to look at him, and reveal the anguished pleasure flooding shamefully through her delicate features, his dark smoulder piercing her soul, taking that quaint green meadow in her eyes and setting it ablaze.

Ally stared back through the black smoke of his ignited gaze, breathing her answer, letting the haze of him create a delirium.

"Wherever you are, Charles........."

She drifted her fingers through his glossy, raven waves, before straightening his chauffeur's cap, crowning her king, and with a playful bloom in her cheek, she tugged it flirtatiously forward, sounding just the way he liked........ A woman in love, weak with his touch.

"Drive me too far........ To the end of the world, to our own mutual destructions, just drive me, and take me with you always."

He felt his chest swell beneath his waistcoat, peering up at her from underneath the bill of his askew cap, smirking, and she rested her forehead against it, leaning in close, with a besotted grin.

"What say you, Charlie?"

"I say you've made a fine choice, Ally Manx," He quipped, but his coy cleverness flooded with his very real emotion, and the sharp edge in his gaze, fell away, leaving behind warm, soft, brown eyes. "I'm sure I can........ Accommodate you in this request."

"My, what exceptional service!!!" She whispered back, her green, Christmas tree eyes, merrily alight, glistening with the love he never dared hope she'd have for him in return. The love he thought he'd have to take, steal, pry from her unwilling heart, she now burned with for him, in enticing flame. No trick, no ploy, no female masquerade of it. This was the love neither Cassie, nor even Jolene had ever looked at him with........ A love that wasn't a lie.

The Wraith rolled smoothly through a wide open, forest green, wing-tipped gate, and trundled up the steep slope of a narrow gravel road, while driver and passenger succumbed to another indulgent kiss, Charlie cradling Ally's face in his claws, both jostled by the rumble of the drive, yet neither took any notice, as they ascended further into the trees.

The fiery, bold strokes of coloured light were nearly faded now, the painted sky yielding to the night, and the surrounding woods invited the falling dusk.

Charlie felt their lips part, both of them chasing their breath, as he clung to her, the tender dark outside spilling in through his rolled down window, the rest of the world, forgotten, as he held the woman he loved, in the car that had saved him, feeling the same innate, lifeblood link to them both.

"We've arrived, haven't we, My Joy? I can feel it....... in the excited thrum of your heart......." He whispered tenderly, brushing his nose against the flush of her cheek.

"Hide me away........ Show me your world, Allyssa Jolene."

**********

The moon was uncommonly pretty, and just as bizarrely bright, as Ally and Charlie walked hand in hand through the calming dark, trees casting shadows across their faces, their flashlights dancing as they moved together, two silhouettes belonging to the tender night.

"It's perfect, My Sweet," Charlie cooed breathily, as the log cabin came into view, emerging from the darkness as though from the depths of dark water.

"I knew you'd love it, Charles!!!" Ally exclaimed beaming and bubbly, squeezing him tight into a hug, and he ushered her into his embrace, his night sky features etched in white moonlight.

"Your childhood woodland cabin could not be more perfect for our anniversary getaway, Dear Girl, I am most impressed........" He smirked at her, with a gentle eyebrow raise....... I can just see you here, aged nine, scampering about through the lush green fauna the same proliferous hue as your eyes, an eternal summer encircled, dark brown curls bouncing, adventure in your heart.

Ally's face shined even paler and luminous than the supernatural moon, as she hugged his neck, overwhelmed by the wonder of him, brushing her lips against his, both of them bathed in moonlight.

"That's so beautiful, Charles!!! Oh yes, how frightfully well you know your lucky bride. While at home I much preferred to keep indoors, kept company by a good book, at the cabin....... I craved adventure, roving through the wooded hills, collecting pinecones and wildflowers, making up games and imaginary foes."

"That's my daring, imaginative girl," He whispered to her lips, teasing them with a faint whisper of a kiss. "Creating worlds within yours already at so young an age, such a beautiful child, even then a living doll."

He bit his lip, looking at her innocently, which she found all too irresistible.

"Confession?"

Ally giggled, feigning reprimand, with playfully accusing eyes. "Oh no!!! What did you do?"

Charles smiled guiltily, gliding his fingers through her curls, remarking how fine she looked, how delicate, in her short black sundress, covered in white hearts, contrasting spectacularly with her dove white skin.

"I stole something......." He said softly, and she broke out into an even sweeter grin, curls falling silkily against her cheek. "Ah yes, you naughty boy, you mean besides my heart and hand?"

He smiled fondly, but the guilt still glinted in his dark eyes. "Yes, My Love. Not heart, nor hand, nor pen...... I took them....... photographs of you as a darling child, my living doll in miniature. I took them from your childhood home, from the picture album left behind. I hope you do not find it odd, I am just so taken with my white rose, delighted beyond measure to see her as a tiny rosebud."

Ally shook her curls bewildered, her green eyes impossibly wide. "You took pictures of me? From my old house on Canyon Hill? Charlie nodded somberly, expecting her wary chastisement, but was happily disappointed when she broke into a wonderstruck grin instead.

"You didn't! That's so sweet of you, My hopelessly romantic husband, my GOD........ I'm so lucky to have a man that loves and aches to know my every age and stage."

"You're not cross......?" Charles murmured unbelieving as she drifted her fingers through the black silk strands at the forefront of his slicked coif.

"No!!! Not at all!!! I am rather....... dazzled, and desperately undeserving of such gracious attentions." She blushed apple red, bowing her head shyly. "I told mother she had forgotten one of the albums in the move, when I was fifteen...... We thought it lost forever. Ally smiled sadly, something lost, something forlorn in her eyes. "No one lives there now....... My own little universe of primrose paths and a shady oak, nestled within a chain-link fence, is just an empty shell now. The once manicured lawn grown over with unruly weeds, from the neglect, the primrose bushes bared of their bloom." She shook her head sheepishly. "But, of course, you know this...... You were there......"

"Yes." Charles answered in a single breath. "A great many times, even when it was your universe, just as you described. But even decades later amidst the forlorn ruin, I still found traces of you..... The special little girl who lived in the pink house with the blue trim in the middle of the street. A pink Barbie bike left on the premises, coloured pictures in crayon hidden out by the cluster of pine trees in the corner. A pink sandal, without a mate in the flowerbed........"

Ally blushed deeper, looking at him in the way he so loved, like he was magic. "That was my special hiding place in the corner of the yard, by the biggest pine next to the electrical box."

"I know......."

"Which ones did you take, of the pictures?"

"The Christmas ones," He chortled, touching her feverish face. The one with you in the teal nightgown, posing in front of a colouring table, another of you hugging a life size Barbie with white-blonde, unusually long hair, and finally......... One of you, a little bit older, cradling in your arms a sweet black pup. Jewel, I think was her name, your favourite Christmas present, so says your mother's handwriting on the back........"

"Second favourite.........." Ally murmured in a sacred whisper, taking Charlie's hand, as she kissed the back of his fingers. "I adored Jewel, treasured every happy, romping moment with her, but YOU are my favourite Christmas present, Charles."

Charlie felt the emotion swelling in his chest, shimmering in his brightened eyes, his brow pulled back, soft. "I was gifted to you Christmas Day, wasn't I? We said our, "I do's," at midnight that magical Christmas Eve."

"Never was there a prettier wedding, nor a more devastatingly handsome groom. I'm glad you took them, Charles....... I'm glad...... you took me."

Charlie felt the tears fall and watched her Christmas tree eyes glisten likewise, scrunching his dark brow against hers, as he took her lips in a raw, emotional kiss.

Ally's tears mingled with his, each wearing the other's on their cheeks, and then he just held her, wrapping his arms tight around her feminine form with a heartfelt sigh.

"As am I...... Wife. My dove white couplet to a peculiar little poem that's long been unfinished. I've never known love like you......."

He gestured his gloved hand out to the charming cabin, waiting inviting in the distance, the peak of the eves decorated by diamond stars.

And now, here, in the setting of your happiest girlhood adventures, as the rest of the world falls away, leaving only immortal Adam and his evergreen Eve, shall we celebrate this love, this rosebud of a lovely, laughing little girl, who became the full bloom of My Beloved Wife, six months ago to the day. The December Man and his July Girl.

[uthseikoashx-inflamedme]

What I would love to see in the next Fantastic Beasts movies

(as always, sorry for the mistakes and for my poor english, I’m not a native speaker, etc! I will continue to correct it)

If you already read other posts I wrote, you know that I’m into plans and organised texts. So here we go again.

Just to be clear:

it's neither a request, nor what I think we should or need to see, and I won't be mad if we don't have the following scenes it in the next films. (I do have an opinion on what can be interessing to include in the movies, but again, it's my opinion! just ideas, and a lot of questions without answers also, etc) (and well it’s not groundbreaking but who cares)

About Newt and his friends

About Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald

About the Summer of 1899

About the other characters

About the Wizarding Society, Muggle world, etc

Some explanations we would like to have

1. About Newt and his friends

- Newt as a selfless and intrepid hero who loves all of the magic creatures

- To be honest, all the team as dauntless and loveable heroes and heroins facing bad guys (and Jacob - who’s already the kindest and smoothest man - being also incredibly brave)

- Newt and Tina, as a couple, loving each other, fighting together, having each other back, growing stronger and more confident with each other (like they’re fighting and are in symbiosis) (in the last film obviously)

- Queenie Goldstein as a powerful witch while she explains why she joined Grindelwald’s side - because she believes Ministry is going to do nothing for her, because she believes in a brighter future without the Statute

- (At least) some clues about Nagini’s and Riddle’s meeting

- Credence’s true family? And because his past is quite tragic and he’d already gone through awful experiences, maybe his happy end?

- Theseus not knowing how to act after Leta’s death: should he follow blindly the Ministry? Trust Dumbledore, his brother and the rest of the team?

- A character eventually agreeing with some of Grindelwald’s ideas about magic things which shouldn’t be hide and stuff, but fighting against him anyway (well, most likely Queenie)

2. About Albus Dumbledore and (or) Gellert Grindelwald

- Albus Dumbledore as the charismatic, incredibly marvellous and skilled wizard he is, while people around him are impress by his aura: imagine Albus walking in the Ministry, and people who are supposed to protect the whole country are amazed, even scared: he’s stunning, blazing with power (and with cold fury, because the Ministry obviously did something stupid and Dumbledore is mad at them)

(at this point, we finally understand why he is the most powerful, skilled, prodigious, dazzling wizard of his age)¹

- Albus with colourful and amazing clothes

- Albus facing his Boggart (which is supposed to be Ariana’s corpse, but well, who knows)²

- Gellert Grindelwald facing his Boggart (what could it be?) (ok, I’m just curious here)

- The backstory of the Deluminator: why and when Albus developed this magical device? Did he always used it to have fun with light, or was it initially a more personal object? Had Albus created the Deluminator to find Gellert Grindelwald to fight him, at the end?

- A funny and arrogant (and bitter?) Dumbledore’s rejoinder, while he’s conscious of his marvellous mind and skills (like in the books)

- Dumbledore’s reaction when he discovers who is the actual Master of Elder Wand (again, i’m curious)

- Are Grindelwald’s mismatched eyes™ a sign of something important about his past, his abilities? is his hair white - and not anymore blond - because of Dark magic?

- A moment when we see how Dumbledore is able to manipulate surrounding people, including allies and friends

- A heartbreaking and breathtaking dialogue in 1945, while they fight against each other - and I wonder if - how - they are going to talk about their past, shared ambition and dreams, sentiments, guilt, regrets, etc

3. About the Summer of 1899

- To be honest, it’s mostly: Albus and Gellert as remarkable, arrogant, impish, brillant and not wise at all young wizards in a flashback of 1899

passionate discussions about the Hallows, politics, the Statute, or complex magic things

wandless magic, non-verbal spells, forbidden and dangerous rituals³

Albus’ reactions while Gellert has his visions (was he already able to control his Seer’s abilities?)

how they have fun (common sense of humour, a bit bitter and jeering one most likely?)

And thanks those very quick scenes, we understand why Albus and Gellert fell in love with each other - they both were a freedom symbol for the other in a way, all what they always desired and dreamed of - and their common ambition elevated them, made them wanted a bright and glorious future

(ok, too much to show, yes, i know)

- Also, an already dangerous and extreme Gellert and an in-denial Albus (about the Inferi army, etc)

- A glimpse of the relationship between Abelforth and Ariana, between Albus and his family, and between Gellert and Albus’ siblings

(edit: and yeah i forgot, a kiss or something - an act only did by lovers and not best friends, because there are still people believing they are friends - and their relationship is technically still not canon?)

4. About the other characters

- Adult Abelforth, loathing his brother, suffuring

- Tom Riddle at Hogwarts, possibly facing Dumbledore, or as a young charismatic awful future Dark wizard, or acting like he’s jealous of Grindelwald’s influence and like he already wants to surpass him

(it could be great to see him, at least few seconds, to build the bridge between FB and HP and most importantly to have a more detailed vision of Wizarding modern History, you know what i mean?)

- Ministry people who do not like Dumbledore because it’s funny

- A character who’s scared by the war and finally who gives up, and who runs away to try to be as far as possible from the political troubles

(it would show how war is an ordeal - I do not have the impression that the pressure and all were something so exposed in HP books, it could be great to see it?)⁴

- Minerva McGonagall, Alastor Moody, Cornelius Fudge, etc, being young - if they are already born in 1945? It’s not written anywhere so idk

- edit: I forgot Hagrid, it could be awesome to see him as a teen in the last movie during the events of the Chamber of Secrets’ first opening!

5. About the Wizarding Society, Muggle world, ect

- The consequences of Grindelwald’s actions around the wizarding world and in the Muggle world: how things are destroyed, how he influences the governments

- The influence of rich and conservative pure-blood families through the war: how several of the sacred-28 families supported Grindelwald, how they influenced the whole magic society, why their inaction killed people, how the Ministry is corrupted, why it didn’t really change, even after the end of the war⁵

- The same conservative influence but in the very heart of character’s life: how Nagini is marginalized, for example⁶

- Why not political opinions expressed by several characters, to show how politics is a delicate and intricate subject, and why neither Albus Dumbledore nor Gellert Grindelwald are all white / all black, how Grindelwald gain influence, etc

6. Some explanation we would like to have

- Why is Albus Dumbledore DADA teacher? We know he wrote articles in Transfiguration Today before graduating, so why teaching DADA? (guilt, will to help young people to not be tempted by Dark magic and power like he was, or was there simply already a Transfiguration teacher?)(should I mention it’s never said in the HP books?)

- When and why will Albus be the Transfiguration teacher? (edit: we have clues in FBtCoG because Travers says Albus is not going to be allowed to teach DADA anymore so I guess it explains it)

- How can Minerva McGonagall be at Hogwarts, already be a young woman - if I remember well, she’s not even born? Or extremely young?

- How Gellert Grindelwald summoned a phoenix - and more likely, let’s theorize, how might he summon and control Fawkes?

(because Credence can’t be a Dumbledore - or at least, can’t be directly related to Albus, Ariana, Kendra and Percival - or is he the illegitimate and secrete son of Abelforth? a cousin of Albus?

but if we consider Credence is not a Dumbledore, Gridelwald had been able to control a phoenix which is linked to thhe Dumbledores, right? is it thanks the blood pact? of because of Credence’s Obscurus? we don’t know

edit: or there is the theory about Credence being created by the philosopher’s stone I guess, so with Ariana’s Obscurial and most likely Albus’ blood)

- Why nobody knew that Grindelwald and Dumbledore met each other when they were teenagers, when Rita Skeeter published Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore in 1998?

(i’m not so angry, i’m mostly confused)

The Ministry knew Albus met Gellet Grindelwald in 1899, right? How can a that huge information be a secret during decades? Why Rita Skeeter only found it after Dumbledore’s death? Albus said they used to be “closer than brothers”: after that and because Travers doubted of Dumbledore’s true side, Albus had been restricted and watched by the Ministry during FBCoG. It should exist papers, files, archives which confirmed all of this. So why everybody forgot that Gellert and Albus knew each other when they were young?

- Or about Albus’ and Gellert’s former close relationship, didn’t Travers or Theseus understand they were lovers? Or if they understood, they - again - didn’t tell it? (Travers is not fond of Dumbledore, it could have been a scandal, why he didn’t say it?) Can all of that make any sense?

- Why isn’t the Blood Pact ever mentioned in Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore - or most likely, how everybody (Albus; Gellert; Newt and Newt’s friends; the Minstry; Grindelwald’s acolytes, etc) had succeed to hide it from the press and the whole magic society?

That’s already a lot so let’s stop here Half of it is not so deep but I’m a simple girl, I’m always here for characters’ and background’s (lore?) development I will be pleased to hear what are your own wishes also

Notes:

¹ : certainly one of the thing i would the most like to see in the next movies, which is also something very important in the FB and HP universe - i have the feeling his power, skills, etc are more an idea than a reality. (and i indeed used a thesaurus to describe him)

² : Boggarts, Albus’ Boggart, how - in Albus’ situation - it mirrors his Erised reflect and how it might show important elements about him is a subject i really want to broach, i already planned it, it may be great to talk about it i think?

³ : talking about forbidden rituals, i talked here about the Blood Pact and why i think it was illegal, Dark, etc :

Why Albus didn’t tell Ministry employees about the Blood Pact

⁴ : to be fair, there are elements which are reminders of the pressure of the war in the book, especially in OotP and DH, but the Golden Trio did not experienced the war like the common people did, and the story - even very short - of someone who was scared is something i will be pleased to discover

⁵ : well, i talked a bit about pure-blood conservative families, their power and their influence in two posts:

How can everyone find their true-love and still be in love after years in HP? (”magic-soulmates” theory and conservative society)

Why are the Weasleys poor? (eng&fr) (theories about pure-blood families, inheritance, etc)

(it’s theories, but it can explain my point of view - headcanons? - about those families and the Wizarding Society)

⁶ : again, check the two posts if you are interested!

Thanks for reading!

I again apologize for the mistakes - and there might be incorrect informations, even if I hope there are not

[neshabeingchildish]

WEEK FOUR: GENERAL PROMPTS ♡ 1/27 | Fluff #2

So, in true Nesha fashion, I’m gonna go a little bit in a direction that I’m unsure of whether or not it’s what is being sought out, but my interpretation of the prompts. Idk if I’ll keep up with it this week. We’ll see what type of feedback I get about today’s… Which… Anybody paying any attention to me will know that Fluff is not my ministry, but I’ll give it a try. Here is my premise: I am going to take the AU universes that I put out last week and give y’all a drabble for each with this week’s concepts. At least, that’s my goal. So, here goes.

Fantasy  ♡ Full Moon Over Swellview

Jasper handed out Valentines’ cards to everyone in the school that he knew. A lot of people were EXTREMELY happy to get them, to Charlotte’s surprise. They were 16 years old. Who the heck cared about Valentines’ Day Capitalism? Apparently everyone but her. Henry had even made himself a little business on the side, accepting flower gram orders for $3, since the high school didn’t do them anymore after a budget crisis that Captain Man caused.  Charlotte found it appalling that Henry would profit off of a service that he was at leas partially responsible for the school having to give up, but… who was she gonna tell but he and Jasper? Nobody knew that Henry was Kid Danger, and she valued that secret. She’d SOONER tell them that he was a vampire. She wouldn’t tell either.

Whenever she got to her locker, she found a red sack attached to it and sighed, opening it up and looking inside. It was some type of scroll. Trusting no one, she glanced around and when she was convinced that the coast was clear, scanned it to be certain it wasn’t a set up of dark forces. It was just from Jasper. She laughed and opened it. An invitation to a Valentine’s Day dinner. She tossed the scroll and the sack into her locker and yelped when she turned around and Henry was there with a bouquet. “Hey! I got you some flowers!” He said. She put her hand over her heart. “There are A LOT of people who like you. Never would’ve guessed.” She took them and stuffed them in her locker, not even bothering to glance at the cards that went with them. “Wow. So playa,” Henry said, impressed.

“I HATE these aspects of Valetines’ Day!” she complained. “You know… it wasn’t even initially candy and card sales. It was a love lottery for fertility. We should be banging, if we really want to celebrate.”

“I have no problems with that,” he said. She threw him a look. “It’s all in good fun. NOTHING that we celebrate has it’s original meanings. Well… I mean, the rest of us. You’re probably gonna Pagan the heck out of today, huh?”

“No, not really, but I did make something for Jasper, because of the whole  Lupercalia lore.” She could tell from Henry’s face that he had no idea what she was talking about, so she gave him the quick notes, “Old Pagan custom is kinda a part of werewolf history.”

“Oh.”

“So, I made him these little Romulus and Remus, feeding on the She Wolf.” Henry’s eyes were wide in confusion. “He will maybe know what it represents and probably like it!” She snapped and slammed her locker. “This holiday is stupid, anyway! Who spends all the time and money that people spend on these things for high school relationships? None of the couples that you unethically charged for flower grams are gonna last.”

“You are the Scrooge of Valentine’s Day,” Henry commented.

“I am the Scrooge of any observation that the Christians stole and remarketed when they were traveling the world killing people for being unbelievers. No offense to the ones that just go to church and go home until they die, but let’s be very factual about how much history and culture that religion has taken and ruined! And in the name of such a progressive miracle working practitioner!”

“How about this? Forget the Christians stealing it and making it about cards and candy and just look at it as a night to get to pet Jasper’s belly and scratch behind his ears by candlelight. That’s what I’m doing.” Henry said. “Nobody hates Christianity more than the vamps. We literally will burst into flames at a crucifix wielded with enough holy hate.” She laughed at the phrase “holy hate.” But… that was a good way to take her mind off of things.

The truth was that a lot of warrior witches lead lonely lives. Battling the evils that defied nature, the ones that misuse nature for their dark purposes, and so on… That almost guaranteed that she couldn’t get close to people, make many friends, or fall in love. The fact that these normals were always “falling in love” only to throw it away in a few months and still made an entire DAY of it was irritating to behold. They took so much for granted all of the time and she was frequently sick of it. But, if she was gonna spend time with her friends, that was at least cool.

Jasper made a setting in the Man Cave for the three of them. He’d of course invited both of the “loves of his life” to this Valentine’s Day event, set the table with stuff that the three of them loved and decorated the place with red and hearts. He got them into their seats and then took his own. “So… I hope that everybody enjoys everything. I wanted to treat you both to something special, because I love both of you and I know that neither of you believe that you’ll ever find love, (both Henry and Charlotte began to try to argue with that assessment) whether or not either of you will admit it. But, I love you both. So, Happy… Day of Love.” He didn’t want to say the “V” word around Charlotte and start a tangent.

“Charlotte’s got a present for you, Dude.” Henry said, reaching out to adjust the bouquet that Jasper had placed in the center of the table. It needed a little bit of work. Jasper looked at Charlotte, excitedly. The “wagging his tail look,” she thought of it as, because if he was in wolf form, she knew that he would be.

“Yeah… It’s probably stupid. You might not even like it, just in observance of this time of year, I made this little display…” She reached into her satchel and pulled out something wrapped in a red fabric. “Actually made from 100% Jasper hair and fur… also wood, from a very sacred tree, to my family… and some crystals that I… had…” She was TRYING not to blabber, because that made the gift even more important, she realized with everything that she said.

He was now looking at the unwrapped thing. Twin boys with hair like his suckling on a lady wolf with twinkling eyes and the word Lupercalia carved into the base. “This is the most beautiful thing that anyone has ever given me,” he said in a small voice. “I love it… and you!” He gave her a hug and a kiss and set it on the table, near the bouquet. “I’m gonna cherish this forever.”

“Henry, I also got YOU a gift!” Henry gasped. He honestly hadn’t expected one! She was SO against it, and as far as he knew, there were no vampire ties to this holiday, and even if there were, she was still pretty anti-vampire, no matter how much she tried to accept him, personally. She pulled out a jewelry box and he opened it to see a glass vile, attached to a necklace with symbols. “Is… is this YOURS?” He asked.

“Yes.” It was super forbidden in her practice to offer her blood to a vampire. Vampires would drain witches dry and discard all remains, in order to keep safe from possible attacks. So, for her to offer it to him was a huge show of faith, and huge sign of love. He rushed to give her a hug and a kiss too, then she helped him put it on. He was never going to take it off.

She wondered, “Did you two get each other anything special?”

Jasper shrugged and said, “I have a pitcher of blood on the table for the feast.

Henry said, “I got him some of those Valentines Day chew toys from the pet store.”

“You two are SO romantic,” she said sarcastically. They laughed, then everybody paused when Ray came in, dressed like cupid and setting food on the table. Charlotte shook her head and said, “Nope.” Then got up from the table.

“Charlotte! You can’t leave now. It’s the feast time! We can do fertility stuff if you want!” Henry called.

“Ray is in a little toga with wings! A LINE HAS BEEN CROSSED!” Truth be told, she was filled up with emotion from everything that had taken place. She just needed to breathe for a moment. Did she wanna see Ray in a toga? Absolutely the entire heck not. But... she was never gonna say that she wasn’t 100% against “doing fertility stuff” with her boys. She blushed, glad that none of them could hear her thoughts.

[gt-adventures]

Xharem’s Backstory

Xharem is an old dragon living in the Pass of Living Light. for the past few hundred years she has been the dragon professor for the Academy of Wizardry, that is located at the foot of the largest mountain in the range. 

[Xharem featured first in the story Honorary Princess which has GT in it, since the main character is a 20ft tall half-giant] not that Xharem isn’t big too ;) so this still kinda counts as GT. 

The territory of the school used to belong to Xharem! She sold it to the wizards when she was still a young dragon. But how did she come by such large and valuable territory? 

Well it’s quiet the story. so buckle up. 

Oh yeah, and she still lives in the cave system of the territory. 

She said the caves were originally dug out by a dragon named Rishom, though that name meant nothing to the smallfolk she told this too. Xharem said she’d taken the caves, and the surrounding territory, from an evil dragon named Laydal. 

He was particularly cruel and tyrannical; Expecting other dragons to obey him. Eating any smallfolk that dared to step foot in his territory after banishing them. A rather large territory at the foot of the mountain, not to mention the majority of the range which he considered his and acted like it. He was by no means lazy. He single handedly took it upon himself to scare out the elves and gnomes and dwarves as well as a few small human villages. And he made it clear they were never to return. For two centuries his reign of terror made the mountains devoid of the small peoples and their oh so important fairytales. 

No dragons dared to kidnap any royals, so that their true loves could come adventuring and defeat a dragon, winning honor and glory. The small folks cursed into animal forms all died without being kissed back. No merchants children wandered in to get cursed by witches. There weren’t even any witches! Unless you count the ogre ones, but they feared Laylal as well. 

He commanded them to give him baths! They hated him but couldn’t do anything to a dragon who could bite their limbs off in one go. So they served him. 

He liked to hunt the trolls. That sounds bad but they seemed to weirdly enjoy it even if one of them died occasionally. It still wasn’t ok, using them for sport. 

The only people he didn’t really bother were the giants. Mainly bc they’re like. really big too. And They’re more nomadic in these parts (they need to move around to find food and stuff) so they just stayed longer in the more distant areas anyways, where his influence was felt less. They still had to enter the territory sometimes but Laylal didn’t interact with them much. They were pissed that they were losing participation in fairytales too of course. 

Xharem, who did not know the mountains before Laylal, hatched about 80 years into his reign, did heard the stories, and was bored.

Dragons had a community yes, but they weren’t meant to live communally. Since Laylal took the foot of the mountain range, the rest of the dragons scattered to the higher levels. And then pretended to live as normal. Sitting around on their gold and treasure, occasionally meeting up to chat or hunt. But no stories. No new ones at least. And no one other than dragons to talk to. Why did they accept this??? Dont you want more stories more tales?

Xharem, after about 100 years of life (so she’s like, 16 equivalent), realized that smallfolk towns weren’t in Layla’s control. She could go to the people. She could easily fly to any town! Laylal didn’t own the sky. 

Still she made sure he was nowhere near the region she flee over. 

She’d visited the nearby towns, wanting so badly to interact with those who were forbidden from the mountains. The townsfolk were so on edge, as Laylal loved to torment them, they almost shot her down. 

She was able to make it clear she wasn’t Laylal. They were still weary. Humans might not live long, but elves do. Or at least, it wasn’t more than a generation ago. They remembered being chased out of their homes by the ravenous Laylal. 

They too were suffering from an absence of tales. Without the mountain range and forest, it was hard to attempt any fairytales. The elves couldn’t flutter through the town like they did through trees, offering dubious help to lost travelers! The gnomes couldn’t curse people for accidentally stepping on their gardens which are so easily missed in a forest, but very obvious in a town. To mention a few non-human practices. (Though more non-humans than you think are main characters in tales!) 

Not to mention their sacred sites in the woods. The altars and temples. Rivers with the best fish, or groves with the best fruits! Some of them had guarded secret magical locations! These places were no longer being tended to! No longer being used! No longer being guarded! 

They were sad. And they were angry.

But they were also kind and wonderful. 

Xharem spent about 20 years exploring the towns and settlements, and she even traveled as far as the larger, eastern, mountain range known as The Implausible mountains, learns she has cousins there! (again, the dragons of her range were too scared to leave and run into Laylal. 

Unlike the dragons of the west, the dragons of the east lived in a sort of harmony with the mountain smallfolk. And they had a very benevolent emperor. It was a much more lively place. With adventurers and lost wandering heroes. Many of the dragons had kidnapped royalty with them from the surrounding kingdoms. Others showed off trophies from their battles, both scars from defeats, and treasure from their victories! 

Xharem realizes this is how it used to be in the west! And only about 200 years ago. Things could easily go back if only Laylal was gone. 

She might only be about 115-120 years old, but she wanted to do something. She would take on Laylal. But she’s much smaller (just bc of age). She needs help. The dragons wont help her, so she turns to the people so desperate to get back to their homes. 

Laylal is very smart, but the smallfolk and Xharem manage to trap him, sort of. He and Xharem do end up physically fighting, and though Xharem does kill Laylal, she is mortally wounded. 

Thankfully with the help of elf, gnome, and human mages, she recovers, and claims the territory of Laylal for herself. But the entire foot of the mountain range like Laylal. Just the foot of that one big mountain, and even then she’s not kicking anyone out, she’s gonna invite them back. 

And it was barely 50 years later when the wizard arrived, with their offer to buy her territory so they could build a school! 

Xharem thinks this is a great idea. This territory is so tainted, no dragon should own it. A school would be fantastic! She loved people anyways, she always had. Though, she was slightly annoyed that wizard institutions are human only. She wasn’t going to stand for that. 

She said she would sell them the territory, but she would become a professor, permanently, at the school. Her caves would be “hers” as her living quarters. The wizards agreed, they also liked Xharem a lot. And it changed one policy of the school. While only humans could attend, the faculty could be any species. 

And hundreds of years later, Xharem is still there. She loves being a professor, she loves the school. 

She may be getting on in years but she knows she made a huge difference in the world and influenced so many people. She’s really happy with her life. 

[sabraeal]

The Great Chain, Chapter 4

The Hierarchy of Beings | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

ANS Week, Day 3: Wind forceful | lively | unsettled | playful

In Wati, no man is allowed to look upon the Emperor’s concubines -- at least, no intact one. It has been centuries since any man was fool enough to try, but all the stories agree: should one gaze upon the forbidden garden of delights, his eyes will be burned for the shame of it, and his tongue cut out to quiet him.

At least, that is what is said. In practice, all things are different.

The eunuchs serve them of course, but so do the young boys of the kitchens, and should any woman be granted leave from the harem, a simple veil is enough to satisfy propriety. Plenty of her brother’s favorites had been allowed at court; seated behind a screen where only their shadows were glimpsed is where a great many of them made their plots. Women had been made and unmade by what they learned shielded by silk.

She, of course, was held to a different standard. The sacred feminine, she could not be spoken to by any man save His Most High, and none were allowed to look upon her.

Save the alchemist.

A screen sat between them at every one of their meetings, with a daughter of Visoth to speak for her, should the need arise. Which it often did; so much that her own brother had called it unseemly. It had not weighed well against the alchemist when his brethren finally brought him forward for his heresies.

But until then, Samay had been hers. A man eager to impart to her the life she might lead in the heathen lands, should this fool contract of her brother’s go though.

A helpful account, to be sure. But still, that had not been the information she most wanted to hear.

“Her Most High wishes to hear of the concubine,” a daughter would say, making the words ring against stone. “You must tell her again what vile tricks she might face.”

“None, none,” Samay was all-too eager to reply, shaking his head. “She is so very honest. So brave! There is nothing on this earth that gives her fear.”

She had, like a child, thought it was a warning. But now, as the concubine turns to her, unheeding of the danger when she leaves her back to that beast --

She understands.

“Guards!” she screams, so loud the walls must shake with it. The door flies open, Prak’s men piling into the room, followed swiftly by the Clarinese.

Her hands clench tight on the silk of her gown. They are men, a half-dozen all told, and here she sits, her sacred person indecently bared, but -- but --

It cannot matter, not when the beast stands in this very room, it’s talons aimed at Shirayuki’s back.

“It’s there!” She flings out an arm, finger shaking as she points. “It’s come to kill us!”

The unclean stares at Prak’s men, who only stare back, both at a loss. The Clarinese --

What did she say? asked one, head swiveling towards the Watese guards. I didn’t catch a lick of that.

I said, she grits out, shoulders curling in, that it has come to kill us.

This only seems to cause more confusion. Sir Obi?

She fixes her gaze on Prak’s head guard. “Do something!”

That, finally, moves them. The beast is quick, but he realizes their intentions too late --

Ah, it says, its vile mouth pressed to the floor. The concubine approaches with a level of gravity most royals born to the position spend their lives striving to achieve, crouching down with no hint of fear on her features. Looks like I should knock next time.

Shirayuki shakes her head, mouth lifting slyly at a corner. It looks like you should use a door next time.

She had not believed Samay when he spoke of the concubine’s strength, of her courage, but -- never has she seen someone talk to the unclean as she does. Her hands are steady against her thighs, gaze clear and fixed, mouth bent into a scolding smile. There is no fear in her, no derision.

All right. Shirayuki stands, brushing off her lap, humor drained from her expression. I am conducting an exam in here. It’s time for you all to leave.

But-- one of Prak’s men send her a worried glance-- Her Most High--

Was surprised, she decides firmly. Bora, it’s only Obi. You lost fifty dill to him just last week.

Oh, Miss, the unclean sighs, entirely too at ease with a knee at its back. What’s to say this isn’t revenge?

The guard peers down at it with a frown, then nods, helping the beast to its feet. I’ll win that money back, you know.

That’s what they all say, it drawls, insufferably smug, with a coy flutter of its eyelashes. It isn’t fair how very long they are. Nimol still owes me seventy.

Down from one-twenty, another guard protests.

The concubine hooks her hands over her hips, braced like a woman used to being heard. If you might all see yourselves out?

Even me? The unclean sashays nearer, hand pressed earnestly to its chest. It gives her the sort of looks hounds do when they know there is jerky in their master’s pockets.

Despite her forbidding expression, the concubine’s lips twitch. Especially you.

After such an honest mistake? it protests, pouting as she scoots it across the floor, encouraging it toward the window. Miss...

I know just how honest you are, Obi, the concubine informs it wryly. And in any case, you can’t stay.

My heart, it tells her, turning one last time on the sill, it’s broken--

You can ask Zen to kiss it better, she replies, whip fast. I’m sure he’s heard all about this by now.

The beast grimaces. But, Miss--

With a hand firmly planted on -- well, a place a concubine would be well acquainted with, save that this this was not the prince -- she helped it straight out the window, shutting it on its surprised yelp.

Now then, she says, mouth stretching wide in a smile. Where were we?

The concubine picks up her notes, skimming over them with a preternatural calm. Right, the exam. Do you still feel safe taking off your robe?

She wants to say no, to say how could I when my naked body was nearly a spectacle, but --

But the concubine sits there with an encouraging smile, gaze steady and unworried, and...it feels silly to not, even so.

The gown slips from her shoulders, each inch a further humiliation. It is good she is allowed the veil; no matter how kindly the concubine smiles, she would die rather than show her the tears that sting her eyes, that threaten to run red tracks down her cheeks. No gaze has ever fallen upon her sacred form, not in whole; even she herself has avoided laying eyes upon her own flesh.

But now she bares it for this woman, a rival --

Huh, the concubine breathes, brow furrowed. Is it all right if I touch you?

She recoils, every inch of her skin crawling at the very thought. The concubine throws up her hands, eyes wide, shaking her head. I don’t mean to offend you. I just need to see if it hurts.

She nods. It is a small concession to make, when she is already so exposed.

The girl reaches out, slender fingers grasping just behind her calf. It startles her; she had expected the difference between then to be stark: the concubine, born common, would have ruddy, work-roughened skin, with the same cast as their famed veined cheeses. She would be pleasingly bronzed, smooth to the touch, neither too dark nor too pale --

But in practice, Shirayuki is nearly as sun-kissed as she is -- which is to say, not at all. The only difference between them is the hint of rose or gold.

Do you go outside often? the concubine asks, fingers running clinically over the slight rise of her muscle. The daughters of Visoth had told her that she was the peak of feminine softness, but there is no such praise from Shirayuki’s lips, only something fretfully close to a frown. Or exercise?

No, she answers, blinking, not at all. I am meant to sit in contemplation and maintain purity of thought.

The frown deepens into a scowl. You don’t go for walks?

Where would I go? The girl’s hands press into a blister, and she hisses, Ah, perhaps I have...some. Since I have arrived. It seems to be expected of me.

Shirayuki takes a long breath through her teeth. Yes. We do expect people to stand on their own legs in Clarines.

She can hear the cut, but it is not aimed at her, but rather, farther away. Perhaps even her brother might feel it, so keen is the concubine’s tone.

Does this hurt? she asks, right before her finger press behind her heel, and by all the faces of the god, it is blinding.

Here? she asks at the knee. Here? she inquires at the shoulder. Could you roll onto your side? Do you feel it here?

The hip nearly sends her soul to the god, she could swear it. You are torturing me! she snaps, grabbing at her robe. You wish to punish me!

The concubine sits back, face stony. It wasn’t me who wanted to punish you, she murmurs. Louder, she says, It’s hard to tell the exact problem, but...you’ll need to start walking, at least.

More? she asks, agog. They already make her walk to all her own appointments, and when she is invited to dinner, it is clear she is expected to arrive under her own power. It is almost too much to be borne.

Yes. Much more. The concubine eyes her, concerned. Maybe you could walk around the gardens? They’re lovely this time of year.

She stares. Alone?

The girl blinks, sitting back in her hips as if the idea surprises her. It should; in Wati, she would go nowhere without a cloud of attendants, but here -- well, there are no daughters of Visoth here to keep her company, and she is not sure what caste of noble women would be a fitting replacement.

The concubine’s mouth takes a wry twist as she suggests, You might take Zen with you.

A man? Surely she cannot be shocked further. No. That would not be appropriate.

Shirayuki’s mouth parts in a smile. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. After all, you should get to know each other.

Yes, of course, but surely all of that can be done with a screen between them. They don’t need to be next to one another, talking.

I can prescribe you a tea as well, for the pain, the concubine continues, and if it continues after you’ve started walking, we can look into something else to help you.

Yes, of course. She grimaces, pulling on her robe. After I start walking.

The concubine hesitates. Munkhtsesteg.

She looks up, straight into a gaze far too earnest to be seen in any harem.

If you don’t want to go alone, Shirayuki says, so delicately, as if she might break, I’m happy to walk with you too.

Her hands shake on her buttons. Thank you. I will...consider it.

[acequeenking]

At Times, Love Is...(T)

Summary: 25 One-Sentence Ficlets of various scenes through Hades and Persephone’s marriage.  Written for the Hadestown week on Tumblr for the Favorite Couple prompt; rated T for some implied sexual references. At Ao3 here. 

At times, Love is....

1. [...a final image of the sky, disappearing as he swept her down to the world below]

Her first thought of the Underworld was that she missed the skies above; there was no sky there but dirt, and for a moment after she went down with him, she could see why her mother had forbidden her from ever coming here, but then Hades had taken her hand and led her deeper into his kingdom and she knew it would be home, because he was there.

2. [...an island, carved by shaking, desperate hands]

Hades knew that the Underworld was not what she wanted, even at the start, but he thought once that she might get used to it, if he made it suit her — he made tropical islands in the darkness, Lethe lapping at their shores, and dared to hope it would make her happy — but he caught the way her mouth frowned as she looked up at his false sun, even if his stubborn pride wouldn't let him admit to himself that she'd never stay with him for good.

3. [...A tradition among Gods, or sacred rites even more ancient than that]

It was tradition, even among Gods, to have a wedding celebration — but Persephone couldn't say that she minded the way he made her his wife, pressing her into the dirt of her mother's garden, raining desperate kisses on her mouth, tracing molten gold into a ring around her finger.

4. [...a moonlight smile, teeth glinting in the dark]

For a while, they were happy in moonlight; six months, give or take, but sooner or later, she'd start tapping out a melody he couldn't follow, and he'd be left watching her saunter out the door with a kiss on his cheek, telling him she would be back in the fall.

5. [...a heart, stopped and still]

It wasn't that she wanted to leave him, it was that she had to — she had a job to do, and she couldn't do it underground; he never noticed that when she left, her heart stayed, dead and buried in the ground with him.

6. [...subtle gifts delivered on a nondescript Wednesday]

Every so often, a little trinket found its way upstairs to her, carried on a crow's wing; no one could figure out exactly how he'd done it, and there was foolish male pride in that: after the third broach he'd made winged its way to Persephone one summer, his rarely-seen seasonal sister paid him a visit, fire on her mouth as she told him to stay away, that he was a distraction — still, Persephone wore them all coming back in the fall, and seeing her in his handiwork, he felt seized with a passion that could break Olympus wide open, on her command alone.

7. [...an image of an unknown and unwanted grandfather]

She never knew her grandfather, not really; he'd been in Tartarus since long before she had been born and no one up above talked about the rebellion anymore — but she knew him immediately when she saw his picture at the Museo del Prado during one of her trips up top; grandfather, silver-hair slick with sweat as he devoured the world, eyes mad; Saturn devouring his son, the caption said, and she realized which son it was and left, sick with shock; winter came early that year, and she held him for a month in their bed, hands curled around his many scars, trying not to notice that the possessive madness that gripped Hades often looked all too similar.

8. [...a jump into a lake, one hand held in the other]

She could never get him to the ocean, but she took him to a lakeshore once — he'd stood there fully dressed in a black swimsuit (and it was a suit in every sense of the word despite his grumbling insistance of how naked he felt), awkward despite his bulk, but she'd pushed him into his brother's domain and saw him crack just a hint of a smile before he pulled her down with him into the sweet freshwater, holding her close as they bobbed in the water's current, exploring a new domain together.

9. [...Failing to stop yourself from going over a cliff, even knowing you should]

He knew he shouldn't resent it when she was gone but he did, always, and over the years, the accusations thrummed hotter and hotter in his mind; in spring, the poison built up in his blood, and even knowing it was driving her away, he could not stop it from spilling from his lips.

10. [...Breaking your own heart, and trying desperately to mend the cracks]

She didn't want to go home anymore because she could always see those months above ground burning with a jealous fire in his eyes; he could not follow and he judged her for going without him, and the guilt that burned deep in her heart was fire hotter than any fury he could produce.

11. [...An entire winter spent wishing things were different, somehow]

They made up, after a while — as they always did, when she softened enough to drape herself over him, to promise him that he was her lord and her star, and he knew it was his fault and that he should apologize but it was easier to simply be relieved when she made the effort for him, to kiss her his wordless apologies and hope she understood. 12. [...whispered rumors, following in your wake]

Persephone hated Olympus because everyone threw themselves at her as if she was a particularly fine piece of meat; she wasn't interested in being someone's side dish, and when they tried to convince her by insisting Hades (conspicuously never on the guest list) was doing the very same in hell, she laughed, refusing to be baited by the rumors — Persephone knew death had the patience to wait forever.

13. [...i miss you, whispered by one absent party to another]

When she was gone, Hades turned to countless inventions as ways to keep busy, and tried not to think of his wife, free from the yoke of him around her shoulders as she laughed her way through the upper world and the viper's nest called Mount Olympus — but the simple tune and steady beat of machinery did nothing to drown out the sound of jealous laughter in his mind.

14. [...the goal, but it is hard to reach]

When she came home, he started to make little changes; he had started building a furnace, then a mill, then a refinery — "I wanted to make it a little livelier for you, lover," he said, and she tried to ignore how profane it felt, to hear an above-ground whistle yell for dead workers.

15. [...yesterday, obvious in hindsight]

He was frustrated by her complete inability to understand how he was doing this for her, all of this, for her, trying to make his underworld into something that resembled the modern world up top: factories, light, heat, life — and still she frowned and still Hades wanted nothing but to go back to that garden, all those years ago, and try again, and still, as crafty as he was, he had no idea how to do that.

16. [...shopping for something you cannot buy]

Sometimes, as a distraction, she had him take her shopping upstairs; he took pride in dressing her in all the fineries that he could afford, which was all of them — but nothing had made both their hearts tremble so much as when he had tried to buy her a diamond ring to replace her golden one, and she refused, preferring the one he made her with his own fingers to anything he could buy.

17. [...coffee in a summer cafe, sweet and bitter]

He tried to go up for a date with her on the other side when he was strained, when the lightning in his blood needed an outlet because he was ready to burn up from missing her so much; blinking into sunlight he hated, sweating in a coat that felt too heavy for the weather, he thought about nothing but how much he hated the upper world —  but then she was there and she pulled him into a dark, cool cafe and he knew he never loved her more as she smiled and handed him a frothy latte, the color the same gorgeous cafe-brown as her skin — of course, it was a lovely distraction, but all too soon the underworld called him home, and he came to a cold bed with an ache inside nothing but her could fill.

18. [...friends, family, and the little lies we tell]

She wanted kids and he wanted kids but nothing grew in the realm of the dead, and she knew if she had a sunshine child with him, she would have to stay longer in the light, and knew he would die of jealous neglect in the darkness; when he started calling their charges their children instead, she went with it, even knowing that it was a lie, and tried hard not to show her disgust — but he, who missed nothing, saw it anyway and then things got much, much worse.

19. [...a horse, so desperate for the feedbag it never notices the blinders sliding over its eyes]

At their most fragile point, Hades seduced Eurydice in a vivid revenge fantasy; wanted to make his simultaneously beloved and bereaved wife cry as he rutted the girl like his brothers had done to other women, but in the end, he couldn't go through with it —  she was little more than a mare trying to eek out oats, the dumb child, and he passed his hand over her and sent her to the factories with only his shame on his mind.

20. [...champion over all, for a moment, anyway]

She knew Orpheus would win over Hades heart, because he was so much of what Hades had been, once —  an awkward but passionate thing, pleading his case for a love he held beyond compare; when she clung to her King's arm, she felt his heart race, and knew a taste of victory —  Orpheus did too, before his own doubts snatched it away, history repeating itself in a bitter note; mortals didn't get to try again, as they could.

21. [...cat-like grace, predatory and powerful in surprising places]

She was like a cat, his wife, stalking his bed after the boy left; he watched her as she carefully unfolded her clothing, sitting naked and alone on their last winter's night together, but however distracting she was, he couldn't be dissuaded from his mission: "I want to start over with you," he'd blurted out, and she'd purred, stalking him like the prey he'd always been as her lips closed over his, and the words me too were whispered into his scars as she pulled off his clothing and his doubts in one wide swipe, and he said "I'm sorry," as he took her down and she gasped quietly, and their ancient rings clinked against one another in the darkness as they whispered I love yous in thousands of languages, and they both knew it was different, this time.

22. [...a pretty picture]

They'd awoken on the vernal equinox, curled up in one another's arms for the first time in years, and Persephone took the time to admire every bit of him as he slept; relief at his drowsy smile flooded through every part of her — in those last hours, she threaded her fingers through his hair, and he murmured half-awake but wholly-felt love-songs into her breast, and she decided maybe winter could be a bit longer this year.

23. [...evening-song, melancholy but full of promise]

When the time came for them to part — in May, and only because all-father Zeus had loudly insisted — he held her close and asked if maybe she'd mind if he took her out for a dance upstairs during the summer-time and he kept this promise by showing up uninvited on Olympus a couple of months later; they danced the tango past his gawking brothers and her tutting mother and all the whispers about them, and wound up horizontally giggling in one of Hera's peacock gardens, and he couldn't think of a time he was happier in the summertime than that.

24. [...the sound of the heart at a loved one's arrival, akin to bumblebee's buzzing]

The feeling builds in her gradually each summer, a thrumming vibration that buzzes through her soul like a hummingbird's wings, vibrates like the wail of the train as it come down the line; when he throws open the door, it's all she can do not to explode with energy into his arms.

25. [...an alarm clock, disabled]

He's slowed down Hadestown, stripped it until nothing is left but the kingdom of dirt he led her to all those years ago, with its dripping caverns and asphodel fields; its gloomy and cold but there is still warmth between them, and she regrets nothing of it, and when he asks if there's anything here she likes, she takes his hand and just leads him deeper down, way down under the ground —  after all, it's not perfect, but it's always been home.

 Notes:

The prompts were borrowed from One Sentence Only's Table 25/C, but I bent the rules a bit to add in the structure: each of the headings is meant to follow "At Times, Love Is..." and the prompts are the words in bold.

The picture Persephone sees in the Museo Del Prado in #7 is this one by Francisco Goya (warning: this painting is really graphic and not for sensitive audiences, which is why I'm only linking it here). It's not mentioned what son it is, but I'm taking creative license in saying that it's Hades. *shrug* 

[gilfawley]

have you been re-introduced to gilbert fawley? last we heard, the pureblood was most familiar with timeline three. I don’t recall if they were always a hufflepuff, but I’ve heard the sixth year is still optimistic, determined, altruistic, and overzealous, sensitive, open-book, so that’s familiar. at least he remembers their way around the castle.

hi it bailey back at it again with another one. again it’s just a modified version of my app. o well.

born 21st of june, 1961.

sun sign is gemini — enthusiastic and uniquely charming; you are good at almost anything you put your mind to, and can make just about anyone laugh.

moon sign is libra — likely to be a natural peace-maker. you are probably adept at seeing things from another’s point-of-view, and can be counted on to both listen when needed, and offer objective advice when required. your instinctive ability to get on with others can make you popular and gracious in most situations. you are likely to be respected for your reasonable, fair-minded approach to life. principles will be important to you; you are likely to have a strong sense of justice, and will feel disturbed by any situation that you perceive as unfair.

ascendant sign is virgo — typically humble and at times self-effacing, you can be more concerned with being useful than being recognized. there is a need to be productive; to be of service somehow. you are usually willing to assist and be of service to others, being hardworking, conscientious and studious. nonetheless, you are likely to be a bit on hard on yourself, with a tendency to worry.

midheaven sign is gemini — usually easygoing, though if they have no feeling behind their words, their ideas may get lost in the shuffle. individuals with a midheaven in gemini have a strong sense of intuition, are good at managing their resources and generally have a good sense of pacing.

wand: english oak, unicorn hair, 13″, pliant — for good and bad times and as loyal as the wix who wields it, english oak takes affinity with the magic of the natural world. unicorn hair symbolizes those full of spirit, sweet and gentle, cheerful and value family and friendship. wix who are dependable, humble, independent, caring and loyal. kindhearted and free spirited; optimistic wizards and witches will attract wands of this core. particularly best for water and earth elemental magic, and difficult to turn to dark arts. wands that are of pliant flexibility warm up easily to people, however their potential is based solely upon their owner. pliant wands are what their wielder needs them to be, strengths and weaknesses are one-in-the-same. owners of them are often eager and enthusiastic, tending to be easily impressed or naïve.

familiar: a female snowy owl appropriately named owlivia. patronus: hedgehog — they show happy-go-lucky and kind, slightly naïve optimistic individuals. however it’s also said those with this patronus have a tough personality to them, as hard as it is to believe in gilbert’s case at first glance. to be more on the carefree side, yet still able to be grounded and practical when the situation calls for it; knowing when to fight and when to let it go is important.

amortentia: garden soil, fresh chocolate chip pancakes, bananas, and gillywater.

boggart: goblin — he knows it’s silly, that he shouldn’t be afraid of them really, but the irrationality never seemed to go away. having the displeasure to see one overly grumpy goblin at gringotts when he was six was enough to strike an everlasting fear in his bones. gilbert still feels awful for when he cried in first year after learning professor flitwick was part-goblin.

his sense of humor is lighthearted and genuine. you know that kid who unabashedly laughs at their own jokes/puns? that would be gilbert. that kid that laughs too hard while telling a story, so much that they can’t even finish it? that would also be gilbert.

he’s self-proclaimed king of the forbidden forest, but he also doesn’t like going out in them too much anymore ever since becoming a prefect because he doesn’t want to get in trouble if caught.

probably would stay up until 3am watching nature documentaries if he could get away with it.

absolutely adores gobstones!!!! has been playing since he was a little kid!!! what a nerd, bless his heart. he’s even captain of the hogwarts team. :’’) he’s a quidditch beater too!! joined in his third year.

baby boi is bi bi bi, but he only.....kissed one (1) girl and that’s it kjdbcfdjsnd he’s? not shy or anything, but like...hey sometimes life happens and/or he’s hyperfocused on something else. he probably gets rly flustered when thinking ab other guys like that though bc he’s!! not used to it.

ALRIGHT!

the fawley family was never one for fanatic blood purity, despite maintaining their own place among the sacred twenty-eight throughout generations. from former minister for magic hector fawley, to his son and daughter-in-law, to little gilbert. however they were quickly labeled blood traitors as years progressed. hector jr. and his wife, grace, taught their son the importance of acceptance. after all, they adopted a muggleborn witch and raised her as their own. these ideals and actions heavily clashed with the traditional pureblood beliefs, but the fawley’s paid no attention to the sneers and disapproving looks. they were happy and that was all that mattered.

with his sister being muggleborn, mr and mrs fawley thought it would be beneficial for both children to be acquainted in that world as well. a local playground in the muggle area, he and his sister would spend hours upon hours running around. often, he would pick nearby flowers and bring them to his mother with that bright smile of his. to this day, those moments are some of his favorite.

when his fifth year of hogwarts came around, gilbert was entrusted with a prefect badge. he still isn’t entirely sure how or why they chose him, because he thought there were better candidates, but that didn’t stop him from treating it with newfound pride. he also began working even harder in his classes, despite the occasional exploding cauldron in potions.......oops???? HE TRIES OK IT JUST.....DOESN’T ALWAYS WORK OUT. slug’s pretty patient with him, but like, also you can tell he’s #overit because c’mon gilbert goddamn you’re in sixth year now you can’t keep making silly first year mistakes sometimes :///

ESPECIALLY if you wanna be a healer??? get it together!!!

okay so like --- all in all, gilbert is ambivalent about the other timelines. on one hand, he thinks it’s interesting, but on the other it’s terrifying. he wouldn’t have minded getting the first timeline admittedly, though the mere thought of the second timeline gives him chills. with the war approaching in his original reality, who knew what could become of them? it worries him greatly.

but i mean again overall he.....doesn’t really care? it’s like eh....he’s the same, so is his sister & their family.......he’s kinda weirded out if his friends aren’t the friends he knows but.,,,, water off a duck’s back with this one lmao

TIMELINE ONE --- everything is pretty much the same??? he’s happy????? the happiest ball of sunshine???? still in hufflepuff, still a prefect, still a geek ass nerd who is president of the gobstones team...,,, it’s just gilbert minus the worry of a dumb war tbh

TIMELINE TWO --- it starts off exactly the same but when the war tipped in favor of the death eaters and they won?? hahahaha PAL. OH MAN. BUDDY. HE WAS SSSSSHAKING. not like oh my god i’m scared ( well, yeah maybe that too ) but like..............HECKA MAD. he’s never been really much of a fighter, and he’s the first to admit it, but he’s also not the type to sit back and watch shit like that? very >:(  ,,,,,,,with his family being blood traitors, it wasn’t much of a good time regardless that he’s pureblood lol

buT!! gil definitely 100000% snuck as many assignments back to selina as he could since it was recommended that muggleborns didn’t attend school for, uh, obvious reasons. and you KNOW mcgonagall helped him do it!! 

and....it’s ...,,, 1:40am, so. i should..........go to bed....or something. probably. idk this is a mess as per usual when it comes to me dsjjs but i love him a whole ton

[jewishshadowhunters]

Judaism 101: Signs & Symbols

Mezuzah

And you shall write [the words that I command you today] on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. -Deuteronomy 6:9, 11:19

On the doorposts of traditional Jewish homes (and many not-so-traditional homes!), you will find a small case like the one pictured below. This case is commonly known as a mezuzah (Hebrew for doorpost), because it is placed upon the doorposts of the house. The mezuzah is not, as some suppose, a good-luck charm, nor does it have any connection with the lamb's blood placed on the doorposts in Egypt. Rather, it is a constant reminder of G-d's presence and G-d's mitzvot.

The mitzvah to place mezuzot on the doorposts of our houses is derived from Deut. 6:4-9, a passage commonly known as the Shema (Hebrew: Hear, from the first word of the passage). In that passage, G-d commands us to keep His words constantly in our minds and in our hearts by (among other things) writing them on the doorposts of our house. The words of the Shema are written on a tiny scroll of parchment, along with the words of a companion passage, Deut. 11:13-21. On the back of the scroll, a name of G-d is written. The scroll is then rolled up and placed in the case, so that the first letter of the Name (the letter Shin) is visible (or, more commonly, the letter Shin is written on the outside of the case).

The scroll must be handwritten in a special style of writing and must be placed in the case to fulfill the mitzvah. It is commonplace for gift shops to sell cases without scrolls, or with mechanically printed scrolls, because a proper scroll costs more than even an elaborately decorated case ($30-$50 for a valid scroll is quite reasonable). According to traditional authorities, mechanically printed scrolls do not fulfill the mitzvah of the mezuzah, nor does an empty case.

The case and scroll are then nailed or affixed at an angle to the right side doorpost as you enter the building or room, with a small ceremony called Hanukkat Ha-Bayit (dedication of the house - yes, this is the same word as Hanukkah, the holiday celebrating the rededication of the Temple). A brief blessing is recited. See the text of the blessing at Affixing the Mezuzah.

Why is the mezuzah affixed at an angle? The rabbis could not decide whether it should be placed horizontally or vertically, so they compromised!

Every time you pass through a door with a mezuzah on it, you touch the mezuzah and then kiss the fingers that touched it, expressing love and respect for G-d and his mitzvot and reminding yourself of the mitzvot contained within them.

It is proper to remove a mezuzah when you move, and in fact, it is usually recommended. If you leave it in place, the subsequent owner may treat it with disrespect, and this is a grave sin.

Tzitzit & Tallit

They shall make themselves tzitzit on the corners of their garments throughout their generations, and they shall place on the tzitzit of each corner a thread of techeilet. And it shall be tzitzit for you, and you will see it, and you will remember all the mitzvot of the L-RD and do them and not follow your heart or your eyes and run after them. -Numbers 15:38-40

The Torah commands us to wear tzitzit (fringes) at the corners of our garments as a reminder of the mitzvot, kind of like the old technique of tying a string around your finger to remember something. The passage also instructs that the fringe should have a thread of "techeilet," believed to be a blue or turquoise dye, but the source of that dye is no longer known, so tzitzit are today are all white. There is a complex procedure for tying the knots of the tzitzit, filled with religious and numerological significance.

The mitzvah to wear tzitzit applies only to four-cornered garments, which were common in biblical times but are not common anymore. To fulfill this mitzvah, adult men wear a four-cornered shawl called a tallit during morning services, along with the tefillin. In some Orthodox congregations, only married men wear a tallit; in others, both married and unmarried men wear one. In Conservative, Reform and Reconstructionist synagogues, both men and women may wear a tallit, but men are somewhat more likely than women to do so. A blessing is recited when you put on the tallit. See the text of the blessing at Donning the Tallit and Tefillin.

Strictly observant Jewish men commonly wear a special four-cornered garment, similar to a poncho, called a tallit katan ("little tallit"), so that they will have the opportunity to fulfill this important mitzvah all day long. The tallit katan is worn under the shirt, with the tzitzit hanging out so they can be seen. If you've ever seen a Jewish man with strings hanging out of his clothing, this is probably what you were seeing.

There is no particular religious significance to the tallit (shawl) itself, other than the fact that it holds the tzitzit (fringes) on its corners. There are also very few religious requirements with regard to the design of the tallit. The tallit must be long enough to be worn over the shoulders (as a shawl), not just around the neck (as a scarf), to fulfill the requirement that the tzitzit be on a "garment." Likewise, it should be draped over the shoulders like a shawl, not worn around the neck like a scarf, though that is commonly done. A longer tallit is commonly folded over the shoulders, to prevent the tzitzit from dragging on the ground. The tallit may be made of any material, but must not be made of a combination of wool and linen, because that combination is forbidden on any clothing. (Lev. 19:19; Deut. 22:11). Most tallitot are white with navy or black stripes along the shorter ends, possibly in memory of the thread of techeilet. They also commonly have an artistic motif of some kind along the top long end (the outside of the part that goes against your neck). This motif is referred to as an atarah (crown). There is no particular religious significance to the atarah; it simply tells you which end is up! It is quite common, however, to write the words of the blessing for putting on the tallit on the atarah, so you can read the blessing while you are putting the tallit on.

If a blessing is written on your tallit, you should be careful not to bring the tallit into the bathroom with you! Sacred writings should not be brought into the bathroom. For this reason, many synagogues have a tallit rack outside of the bathroom. Conversely, if you see a room in a synagogue with a sign that tells you to remove your tallit before entering, you can safely assume that the room is a bathroom.

Tefillin

Bind [the words that I command you today] as a sign on your arm, and they shall be ornaments between your eyes. -Deuteronomy 6:8

The Shema also commands us to bind the words to our hands and between our eyes. We do this by "laying tefillin," that is, by binding to our arms and foreheads leather pouches containing scrolls of Torah passages.

The word "tefillin" is usually translated "phylacteries," although I don't much care for that term. "Phylacteries" isn't very enlightening if you don't already know what tefillin are, and the word "phylacteries" means "amulet," suggesting that tefillin are some kind of protective charm, which they are not. The word "tefillin," on the other hand, is etymologically related to the word "tefilah" (prayer) and the root Pe-Lamed-Lamed (judgment).

Like the mezuzah, tefillin are meant to remind us of G-d's mitzvot. We bind them to our head and our arm, committing both our intellect and our physical strength to the fulfillment of the mitzvot. At weekday morning services, one case is tied to the arm, with the scrolls at the biceps and leather straps extending down the arm to the hand, then another case is tied to the head, with the case on the forehead and the straps hanging down over the shoulders. Appropriate blessings are recited during this process. The tefillin are removed at the conclusion of the morning services. See a general outline of this process and its blessings at Donning the Tallit and Tefillin.

Like the scrolls in a mezuzah, the scrolls in tefillin must be hand-written in a special style of writing. A good, valid set of tefillin can cost a few hundred dollars, but if properly cared for they can last for a lifetime.

Menorah

One of the oldest symbols of the Jewish faith is the menorah, a seven-branched candelabrum used in the Temple. The kohanim lit the menorah in the Sanctuary every evening and cleaned it out every morning, replacing the wicks and putting fresh olive oil into the cups. The illustration at left is based on instructions for construction of the menorah found in Ex. 25:31-40.

It has been said that the menorah is a symbol of the nation of Israel and our mission to be "a light unto the nations." (Isaiah 42:6). The sages emphasize that light is not a violent force; Israel is to accomplish its mission by setting an example, not by using force. This idea is highlighted in the vision in Zechariah 4:1-6. Zechariah sees a menorah, and G-d explains: "Not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit."

The lamp stand in today's synagogues, called the ner tamid (lit. the continual light, usually translated as the eternal flame), symbolizes the menorah. Many synagogues also have an ornamental menorah, usually with some critical detail changed (for example, with only 6 candles) to avoid the sin of reproducing objects of the Temple.

The nine-branched menorah used on Hanukkah is commonly patterned after this menorah, because Hanukkah commemorates the miracle that a day's worth of oil for this menorah lasted eight days.

Kippah/Yarmulke

Cover your head so that the fear of heaven may be upon you. -Talmud Shabbat 156b

R. Huna son of R. Joshua would not walk four cubits bareheaded, saying: The Shechinah [Divine Presence] is above my head. -Talmud Kiddushin 31a

R. Huna son of R. Joshua said: May I be rewarded for never walking four cubits bareheaded. -Talmud Shabbat 118b

The most commonly known and recognized piece of Jewish garb is actually the one with the least religious significance. The word yarmulke (usually, but not really correctly, pronounced yammica) is Yiddish. According to Leo Rosten's The Joys of Yiddish, it comes from a Tartar word meaning skullcap. According to some Orthodox and Hasidic rabbis I know, it comes from the Aramaic words "yerai malka" (fear of or respect for The King). The Hebrew word for this head covering is kippah (pronounced key-pah).

It is an ancient practice for Jews to cover their heads during prayer. This probably derives from the fact that in Eastern cultures, it is a sign of respect to cover the head (the custom in Western cultures is the opposite: it is a sign of respect to remove one's hat). Thus, by covering the head during prayer, one showed respect for G-d. In addition, in ancient Rome, servants were required to cover their heads while free men did not; thus, Jews covered their heads to show that they were servants of G-d. In medieval times, Jews covered their heads as a reminder that G-d is always above them.

Whatever the reason given, however, covering the head has always been regarded more as a custom rather than a commandment. Although it is a common pious practice to cover the head at all times, it is not religiously mandatory. For example, it is widely accepted that one may refrain from wearing a head covering at work if your employer requires it (for reasons of safety, uniformity, or to reduce distractions). You can take off your yarmulke for a job interview if you think it will hurt your chances of getting the job. There is an amusing article about this dilemma, The Kippah Debate, at Aish.com.

There is no special significance to the yarmulke as a specific type of head covering. Its light weight, compactness and discreteness make it a convenient choice of head gear. I am unaware of any connection between the yarmulke and the similar skullcap worn by the Pope.

Magen David/Star of David

The Magen David (Shield of David, or as it is more commonly known, the Star of David) is the symbol most commonly associated with Judaism today, but it is actually a relatively new Jewish symbol. It is supposed to represent the shape of King David's shield (or perhaps the emblem on it), but there is really no support for that claim in any early rabbinic literature. The symbol is not mentioned in rabbinic literature until the middle ages, and is so rare in early Jewish literature and artwork that art dealers suspect forgery if they find the symbol in early Jewish works.

Scholars such as Franz Rosenzweig have attributed deep theological significance to the symbol. For example, some note that the top triangle strives upward, toward G-d, while the lower triangle strives downward, toward the real world. Some note that the intertwining makes the triangles inseparable, like the Jewish people. Some say that the three sides represent the three types of Jews: Kohanim, Levites and Israel. Some note that there are actually 12 sides (3 exterior and 3 interior on each triangle), representing the 12 tribes. While these theories are theologically interesting, they have little basis in historical fact.

The symbol of intertwined equilateral triangles is a common one in the Middle East and North Africa, and is thought to bring good luck. It appears occasionally in early Jewish artwork, but never as an exclusively Jewish symbol. The nearest thing to an "official" Jewish symbol at the time was the menorah.

In the middle ages, Jews often were required to wear badges to identify themselves as Jews, much as they were in Nazi Germany, but these Jewish badges were not always the familiar Magen David. For example, a fifteenth century painting by Nuno Goncalves features a rabbi wearing a six-pointed badge that looks more or less like an asterisk.

In the 17th century, it became a popular practice to put Magen Davids on the outside of synagogues, to identify them as Jewish houses of worship in much the same way that a cross identified a Christian house of worship; however, there’s no real explanation of why this symbol was chosen, rather than some other symbol.

The Magen David gained popularity as a symbol of Judaism when it was adopted as the emblem of the Zionist movement in 1897, but the symbol continued to be controversial for many years afterward. When the modern state of Israel was founded, there was much debate over whether this symbol should be used on the flag.

Today, the Magen David is the universally recognized symbol of Jewry. It appears on the flag of the state of Israel, and the Israeli equivalent of the Red Cross is known as the Red Magen David.

Chaia

This symbol, commonly seen on necklaces and other jewelry and ornaments, is simply the Hebrew word Chai (living), with the two Hebrew letters Cheit and Yod attached to each other. Some say it refers to the Living G-d; others say it simply reflects Judaism's focus on the importance of life. Whatever the reason, the concept of chai is important in Jewish culture. The typical Jewish toast is l'chayim (to life). Gifts to charity are routinely given in multiples of 18 (the numeric value of the word Chai).

Hamesh Hand

The hamesh hand or hamsa hand is a popular motif in Jewish jewelry. Go into any Judaic gift shop and you will find necklaces and bracelets bearing this inverted hand with thumb and pinky pointing outward. The design commonly has an eye in the center of the hand or various Hebrew letters in the middle.

There is nothing exclusively Jewish about the hamesh hand. Arab cultures often refer to it as the Hand of Fatima, which represents the Hand of G-d. Similar designs are common in many cultures. Why it has become such a popular symbol among Jews? I haven't been able to find an adequate explanation anywhere. My best guess: in many cultures, this hand pattern represents a protection against the evil eye (a malignant spiritual influence caused by the jealousy of others), and the evil eye has historically been a popular superstition among Jews.

For some lovely illustrations of Jewish variations on this design, see here.

[emperorren]

What Reylo scenes would you want to happen in Episode IX? In the context of there being no limitations (PG-13 rating, things Disney wouldn't do, the plot (within reason))? Thanks!

(please excuse my lack of coherence but tlj, unlike tfa, left me with lots of question marks on the future evolution of reylo. It unexpectedly covered most of my preexisting predictions for this ship while also leaving their relationships unresolved, so I’m currently in the process of adjusting my predictions to the new circumstances and the changed dynamic and I’m just going to spitball in no particular order and no attempt at sticking to any coherent idea of plot)

number one on my wishlist is a deepening of the force bond in terms of what they can feel and how they can use it

I want the force bond to explored from different angles: what it means in terms of force lore, why it happened to them, what makes them special to the Force, how do they physically feel, how they deal with this intimacy they don’t understand now that they’ve hurt and disappointed each other so much. But I also want them to study it, as opposed to passively experience it. Perhaps try to manipulate the bond to either shut the other out or keep an eye or each other or (also) use it in an attempt to weaken the other in a duel

I want to see new visual ways to convey how the bond progressively grows and expands between them. So bring on all kinds of obscure lynchian visions, shared dreams, nightmares about each other dying, sensing each other’s approaching, tapping into each other’s conscience and deeply buried memories of their childhood and past abuse (that would be an awesome way to include a snoke flashback, as well as more details of rey’s parents), even better if the other’s present self is there to witness it too

at least an antagonistic duel filled with angst and rage and betrayal on either part, physical and raw and bloody. Yes I want to see some blood. (you said no rating limitations) I can imagine their duel to quickly turn into a battle of wills in which they try to overpower the other via the force bond

rey could use some of kylo’s signature tactics like the force stun and the force choke on kylo himself (which would obviously both terrify and turn him on)

even better if, at some time prior to this climatic duel, rey asked kylo to teach her to use those powers and he agreed—knowing fully well that she means to use them against him, but he’s self destructive like that and he is perversely fascinated by the idea of her being the fated angel of death who will finally put him out of his misery. Rey feels that and it upsets her in a similar way seeing him beat his own wounds on starkiller did

they’re both miserable without each other, but they don’t want to show it, so this leads to at least one scene in which Kylo tries desperately to pretend he hates Rey but as soon as she shows up all he can do is stutter and spit some badly rehashed insults while also looking like he’s about to cry. Rey can’t speak at all

perhaps this happens in the throne room while Renperor is sitting on the throne. Maybe they should continue the tradition of rey ending up in enemy territory (better if willingly), or maybe this time it’s Kylo who is captured by the resistance, and rey is conflicted about it and feels his pain as he’s wounded and kept prisoner, and after a while she secretly sets him free 

arguing on the jedi texts via force skype

arguing on how to rebuild the legacy saber via force skype

kylo being an insufferable know-it-all nerd

more force bond shenanigans: feeling the other’s physical pain (maybe because they’re being tortured or beaten in combat) but not being able to see the other (since the force is mad at them and they’re mad at each other, the bond won’t work properly for at least 1/3 of the movie), and going crazy with panic while also being in unspeakable physical pain through the bond

the eroticism of the force bond should be amped up, pg-13 be damned. Give me all the awkward and increasingly bolder force-touching, feeling each other’s arousal at the worst times, teasing and taunting each other, the unresolved sexual tension getting more and more literal, seeing each other naked, rey and kylo trying to keep their forbidden psychic affair secret to their respective organizations, while also being more and more desperate for each other

Rey struggling with the dark side. Perhaps accidentally unleashing her powers in a moment of wrath and killing someone in the process, then plagued by guilt and blind panic going to Kylo for advice

Alternatively Rey having a conflict with Poe and/or Finn once they learn of the bond. Poe wants to keep her in custody or use the bond to lure Kylo in a trap. Rey is furious and she runs away (to Kylo). I can honestly see Finn being deeply hurt by Rey’s bond with Kylo, but ultimately choosing to support her. (this could also mean interesting things for the poe/finn dynamic

let’s be real: a version of the Most Tropey Reylo Trope, aka Stranded Together On A Mysterious And Remote Corner Of The Galaxy, HAS to happen in some form eventually

especially if one of them is injured when this happens. Let’s say both.

they end up on the Falcon together. they tend on each other’s wounds (more shirtless moments, probably). Rey cups Kylo’s face in a callback to Han’s gesture, traces his scar from his cheek down his chest. Major ship tease moment 

perhaps this is followed by a galactic trip to either find some ancient artifact or to collect some crucial information to their understanding of the Force, the Galaxy, the Balance and their role in all of this, that would lead to some earth-shattering reveal 

maybe they go find the Bendu to inquire about the balance, possibly after reading some cryptic line in the jedi books

at some point, they should go back to Jakku. Would really love to see Kylo’s walking with his billowy dark robes through a sand storm and them finding shelter in Rey’s old AT-AT and Kylo seeing the scratches on the wall

there should also be some sort of cliff scene or an equivalent, because I’ve become attached to that pre-tlj headcanon; though, clearly, now that their dynamic has evolved it wouldn’t make sense for it to play exactly like it would have for eight

in general I want them to be alone with each other on an inhospitable planet, better if connected to the dark side. Like Mustafar, or somewhere in the unknown regions (Malachor?)

Leia’s funeral. Rey helps Kylo connect with his mother one last time via the force bond, letting him touch her face with her hand. 

Kylo cries in Rey’s arms.

Rey meeting the Knights of Ren?

probably some version of the forceback scene, though part of me believes tlj covered it with kylo killing snoke (note how the forceback has rain in it—foreshadowing the intense bond manifesting on ahch-to, and the “clan leader” could be a metaphor for snoke)

one of them (or both) will try to find a way to sever the bond permanently. maybe during the galactic trip hey learn of an ancient ritual and they agree to perform it and Kylo goes first but halfway through it Rey realizes it’s too painful (both physically for Kylo and emotionally for both of them) and she implores him to stop

“I can’t lose you”

Hux’s hostility only grows bigger and bigger and Kylo starts feeling threatened. Rey feels it through the bond, she panics. 

Hux finds out what’s going on with them and uses it to set up a trap to kill two birds with one stone and get rid of both Kylo and Rey. Maybe he imprisons Kylo after neutralizing his force powers.

how would he? well since Hux really hates the Force for being an advantage he has no access to, it makes sense to me that he’d try to ~kill it~. Now I obviously don’t think anyone can kill the Force, but maybe accidentally stumbling upon some old sacred text or artifact or creating a device that allows him to permanently sever the tie that binds the Force to all living beings? i.e. destroying force-sensitivity?

this could easily be the ultimate evil to defeat, and the final turning point for kylo—learning that his “side” of the war is actively trying to destroy his most beloved driving principle, the very thing he’s in service to? That should make him reevaluate his allegiances and spontaneously ask Rey’s help to stop this. (I originally wanted Snoke to be behind this, but I gotta admit Hux works better, with  his deep-seated resentment of force-sensitive beings)

sometime in act III there’s a huge battle and the resistance is being decimated and Rey is losing her fight and is almost unconscious and all hope seems lost and then suddenly Kylo’s ship appears and starts firing on the First Order and then he lands (a callback to the first time we saw him in the trilogy) and goes to join Rey while she’s watching all of this in a sort of semi-conscious slow motion haze and all she can think is, he came back for me

third time’s the charm, so there has to be a third offer, and this time the other will accept it. I’m not sure if I want Rey to be the one who offers Kylo, or Kylo to Rey

REYLO KISS. now I think we have VERY decent chances of actually seeing one in canon. But without the pg-13 limit? It starts as extremely sweet and tentative (Rey initiates it) and then deepens and SETS THE SCREEN ON FIRE. I’m torn between this happening in an intimate, quiet moment or during/after a fight (think the end of the praetorian guard scene for reference).

THEY FUCK. no rating limits. Unleash your imagination.

(better if they fuck while thinking this is going to be their first and last time, like the night before the battle that will decide both their fates, or kylo’s fate if he’s going to be executed by the resistance)

finally, i want to see them using the Force together. in some huge thing. Like stopping a death ray firing on a planet. (Coruscant or Naboo) Impossible? Maybe. But Kylo, alone, could stop a blaster mid air. Imagine what he could do with Rey

[dfroza]

the wisdom of God is foolishness to man who trusts in himself rather than discovering the grace of our Maker.

for there is a clear path laid out for us seen through the True illumination of the Son (Light) and this is meant to humble us, to cleanse us inside & out.

and so the Scriptures not only teach and reveal, but they correct just as a caring Parent. this is the work of the Spirit in the heart.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 12th chapter of the Letter of 2nd Corinthians:

Boasting like this is necessary, but it’s unbecoming and probably unavailing. Since you won’t hear me any other way, let me tell you about visions and revelations I received of the Lord.

Fourteen years ago, there was this man I knew—a believer in the Anointed who was caught up to the third heaven. (Whether this was an in- or out-of-body experience I don’t know; only God knows.) This man was caught up into paradise (let me say it again, whether this was an in- or out-of-body experience I don’t know; only God knows), and he heard inexpressible words—words a mortal man is forbidden to utter. I could brag about such a man; but as for me, I have nothing to brag about outside my own shortcomings. So if I want to boast, I won’t do so as a fool because I will be speaking the truth. But I will stop there, since I don’t want to be credited with anything except exactly what people see and hear from me. To keep me grounded and stop me from becoming too high and mighty due to the extraordinary character of these revelations, I was given a thorn in the flesh—a nagging nuisance of Satan, a messenger to plague me! I begged the Lord three times to liberate me from its anguish; and finally He said to me, “My grace is enough to cover and sustain you. My power is made perfect in weakness.” So ask me about my thorn, inquire about my weaknesses, and I will gladly go on and on—I would rather stake my claim in these and have the power of the Anointed One at home within me. I am at peace and even take pleasure in any weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and afflictions for the sake of the Anointed because when I am at my weakest, He makes me strong.

I have become a fool, but you drove me to it. Why didn’t you stick up for me? I may not be much, but you could have shown me the same respect as you did the other so-called great emissaries. I am not inferior to them in the least. Miracles, wonders, and signs were all performed right before your eyes, proving I am who I say, a true emissary of Jesus. With the exception of not asking you to shoulder the burden of my care, I have treated you no differently from any other churches. Forgive me for wronging you by not charging for my services!

Now listen, for the third time I am ready to travel to you, and once again I will not burden you because there’s nothing of yours that I want: the only thing I want is you. You see, it’s not right for children to have to save up for their parents because it’s the parents’ job to care for their children. I would happily spend until I had nothing left if it was for you. But just because I love you more, should you love me less? Because even though you didn’t have to lift a finger for me, lies abound that I deceived you by some clever act. Did I cheat you somehow through one of the coworkers I sent your way? If any of them defrauded you, I’d like to see it. I was the one who insisted Titus come to you with the brother I sent along. Did Titus take advantage of you in some way? Didn’t we work in the same spirit and follow the same direction?

I hope you don’t think that all this time we’ve been defending ourselves to you. We come as the voice of the Anointed; God will judge whether all our work has been useful in building you up, beloved. And quite honestly, I am afraid that when I come, we may both be disappointed with what we find; in my fear, my thoughts go from bad to worse—into a drama of friction, rivalry, fevered tempers and fists, selfishness, slander, defamation, pride, and complete chaos. I am worried that when I come to visit that my God will humble me somehow before you, that I will have to grieve over all those who have sinned before and then refused to turn away from their addictions to impure practices, immoral sex, and reckless perversions.

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 12 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 63rd chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that reveals an act of God’s Judgment against His enemies and a plea for restoration in Israel:

Who comes with long, strong strides, marching in strength

from Edom, from Bozrah?

Who is coming, with such grand clothes, steeped in crimson and awesome to see?

Eternal One: It is I, the Eternal, who in righteousness declares victory.

I am coming with great power and I’m ready to save.

And why are all your clothes red,

as if you’ve been stomping on the grapes in the winepress?

Eternal One: And so I have. I have pressed by Myself.

No one was with Me. In my anger, I trampled them;

In my fury, I alone squashed them till their blood soaked my clothes

and stained everything I wore.

For it was time for Me to act, time for Me to pay back My enemies

in response to their actions—My time to set things right again.

But I looked and there was no one to help.

I was amazed, but none was ready to offer support.

So I had to do it alone, and I did;

My own power brought salvation; My own wrath energized Me.

I stomped and squashed them furiously.

I made them reel and stagger on the wine of My anger,

And I spilled their blood on the ground.

So let me remind you of the Eternal’s enduring love, and why we should praise Him.

Let me tell you again how the Eternal gives and gives and gives.

All God’s wonders and goodness are done for Israel’s benefit

according to His great mercy and compassion.

Eternal One: Surely, these are My people, and they will be true to Me.

My children will not try to deceive Me.

And indeed, God became their Savior.

And when they suffered, God suffered too;

And the messenger of His presence acted to save them.

Out of enduring love, compassion, and concern,

God Himself rescued them. Through all those years long ago,

God picked them up and carried them through.

But they rebelled and ran away;

they turned their backs on Him and grieved His Holy Spirit.

And then, God turned against them, became their enemy,

went after them, and took them on.

Then they remembered Moses and those days long ago:

Where is the One who brought them safely through the perils of the sea

With the shepherd of His flock leading them?

Where is the One who sent His Holy Spirit among the people?

Where is the God who put His power in Moses’ right hand

and divided the waters before the Israelites,

Making an everlasting name for Himself as the true and living God?

Where is the One who led them through the sea?

Like a horse in the desert, they never stumbled.

Like cattle that move down to find rest in the valley,

the Spirit of the Eternal led them to rest.

You did that for Your people and gained a glorious reputation in the world.

People: Look down from heaven—

peer down from that sacred, magnificent place where You live.

What happened to Your passion, love, and compassion that sought us out?

Where are Your powerful actions that used to support us?

Even though Abraham would not know us and Israel would disown us,

You are our Father!

Nevertheless, from way back,

You, the Eternal, are our Father;

we have called You our Redeemer from long ago.

O Eternal One, why do You make us wander off and direct our minds

and harden our hearts, so that we no longer respect You?

Please come back to us, for we are Your servants;

we are the tribes that have been Yours through the generations.

For such a short time Your holy people possessed Your holy place in Jerusalem;

then our enemies invaded and trampled all over it.

We’ve become like strangers to You,

like people You never ruled,

Like those never associated with Your name.

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 63 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, August 10 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about “returning” to Love:

The only way we can draw near to God is if we believe that He draws close to us, personally, intimately... "Behold I stand at the door and knock" (Rev. 3:20). Faith hears the knock as God's desire to draw near... faith hears his voice and opens the door to his presence; faith partakes in his communion.... "Draw near to God and he draws near to you" (James 4:8). The Hebrew word karov (קרוב) is translated using engidzo (ἐγγίζω) in New Testament Greek, a word that means to come close and touch... When we draw close to God, we reach out and find God holding us. Our "I" melts away as we cling to God as our dear life; we become one with his heart; we lose ourselves to find ourselves.

"Turn to me, and I will turn to you..." (Zech. 1:3). Someone might wonder why we must take the initiative, and that's because God has never turned away from us... He has always been the one who loves us most of all and awaits our return to his love.... "Turn to me and you will discover that I have never left you nor forsaken you."

Yeshua illustrated the idea of teshuvah (i.e., תְּשׁוּבָה, “returning to God”) by telling the famous story of the "prodigal son" (Luke 15:11-32). After selfishly squandering his father's inheritance, a wayward son decided to return home, full of shame and self-reproach. "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him." The father then ordered a celebratory meal in honor of his lost son's homecoming. When his older brother objected, the father said, "We had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found."

This parable reveals that teshuvah ultimately means returning (shuv) to the outstretched arms of your waiting Heavenly Father... God sees you while you are still “a long way off” (Rom. 5:8). He runs to you with affection when you first begin to turn your heart toward Him. Indeed, God’s compassion is so great that He willingly embraces the shame of your sins and then adorns you with “a fine robe, a ring, and sandals.” Your Heavenly Father even slaughters the "fattened calf" (Yeshua) so that a meal that celebrates your life may be served.... [Hebrew for Christians]

8.9.21 • Facebook

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

August 10, 2021

The Hand of the Lord

“This Ezra went up from Babylon; and he was a ready scribe in the law of Moses, which the LORD God of Israel had given: and the king granted him all his request, according to the hand of the LORD his God upon him.” (Ezra 7:6)

Neither Ezra, who was a scribe, nor Nehemiah, who was apparently a butler, had been prepared by either study or experience to supervise a great construction project, rebuilding the temple in Jerusalem and the wall of the city, both of which had been destroyed many years before by the armies of Babylon. Yet God called them to these ministries and led them and protected them as they carried them out.

They were both careful, then, to give God the credit for what they had accomplished. No less than six times in Ezra and twice in Nehemiah they reminded their readers that God’s hand had been upon them as they supervised the work (see Ezra 7:6, 9, 28; 8:18-22, 31; Nehemiah 2:8, 18).

There had been many difficulties and much opposition, but as Paul would later say: “If God be for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31).

We also need to be careful to give God the credit for anything He enables us to accomplish in His service. Even such a great and useful Christian as the apostle Paul had to say: “But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me” (1 Corinthians 15:10).

We remember, however, that the hand of the Lord can be a chastening hand as well as a guiding and providing hand. When a certain false prophet tried “to pervert the right ways of the Lord,” Paul said: “The hand of the Lord is upon thee, and thou shalt be blind” (Acts 13:10-11). And so it was. “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Hebrews 10:31). HMM