#today i made it my mission to get those quests done so she can have her bloodthirsty title

[sezja]

Finally

[carmasi]

Mercenary for Hire Chapter 12- part2 -

Maybe thirty  minutes went by after Kyrius left the place when he was finally able to cool off and come back, seeing as the blonde was no longer there he entered and made it straight to the counter. 

 “Are we done hiding from the pretty blonde yet?” Vera spatted as he walked unbothered and leaned  on the counter  as he entered. 

“I’m not hiding” He replied, and she could only laughed, if he wasn’t hiding what the fuck  was he doing? And why was she even covering for him?. 

“ I see you’re still speaking clearly, but you ARE hiding though. Say, are you finally going to tell me what happened? After all you and Nathan almost went at it when you said he wasn’t allowed to go on her quest and YOU took off instead”

 Killian huffed and rested his chin on the palm of his right hand “ what if I did? it doesn’t matter. Nathan’s a perv anyway.  Just tell me what you have for today, maybe I can finally get out of town”  

Vera laughed and almost the whole guild looked in her direction. “I take it back, you’re not hiding Wright, you’re trying to escape”  his silver eyes shut and he groaned again,  he was grateful she covered for him but at the cost of her teasing he wasn’t sure he could take much of it. 

“Can I just have a job?” he complained, letting his head down on the counter. 

“There are no jobs available today hun,  go back to the dormitory, or maybe go find your blonde and accept her payment, put her at ease while you’re at it, the poor thing’s worry sick” His attention peeked up at Vera’s words. Was she really worried about him ? He glared over at Vera again and stood up. 

“Never mind Vera, I’ll see if someone in town has something for me to do”  Vera chuckled watching as the man left the  building.

He spent the rest of the day helping out the village old lady gather mushrooms and fluff from the fields. It wasn’t a Job that’ll take him out of town but the field was big enough for him to not run into the blonde.  

He was now seated on a stump while eating a carrot, he brought with him as well as a canter of water. He watched as the novices went from Izlude to Prontera and the other way around. He debated whether he should finally stop hiding from the her and  show up, finally say fuck it and take her until his last breath allowed him no longer. But the words of those in the inn echo in his head, he wasn’t enough, he was nobody, he was dirty and unkempt, unworthy of someone  like her. 

Subconsciously he took a strand of his bangs on his fingers, it was greasy and wild,  uncut, long and it did cover half his face. His finger subconsciously traced over the scar he got during his mission, then over his own lips remembering how it felt to kiss the woman and the shivers that went down his spine when he did.

 “Am I making a mistake?” his silver eyes looked up to the Sun. The sun that he compared so much to the bright smile she had, his hand covered his face to protect his eyes from the bright light and he groaned.  It was as if he needed to do the same when he saw her,  each time she smile. 

                                                          ◘

The sun came to a rest in the city, and from her veranda all she saw was the bright light of the full moon shining atop the sky at its peak. A book in her hands and her braided ash-blonde hair to one side. Her brown eyes couldn’t stop looking up at the silvery light of the moon, the silvered she’d seen in his eyes. The light caressed, her flushed peach skin softly as she let her mind wander back to the memory of him. 

“Chase” her lips parted, her sweet delicate voice called out to the void, her familiar. She knew she was alone, he left when he felt her scent entangle with that of a man, so she didn’t expect a reply. 

 “Master?” She was stumped when she heard his voice come from the balcony threshold. 

“ You’re here” her voice soft as she looked back at the shadow of the incubus, still at a distance. “ You still smell like him, but I won’t deny the call of my master, ever” she smile kindly at his words. 

 “ you’re my friend.. But I guess I am grateful for that too'' her gaze went back to the moon that shone spendley atop of the night sky “ Can I ask you something?” He made an agreeable noise, “Am I curse?”

 Chase looked her over, she looked sad, defeated, “ I don’t see anything on you” he replied as if looking for an actual curse, an actual mark on his master that would help with her current mood.  She giggle 

“I know, it was a rhetorical question .. I just feel like I needed an excuse to justify why I’m going through the same things...”.

“ I can find him” he interrupted  his red eyes glimmer as he looked her over, she shook her head.

 “I think I’m done chasing around someone who doesn't want to be found, I’ve made that mistake before, it didn’t go well ”. Chase’s glare lowered and disappeared in the shadow. 

[restlessfandoming]

glaze lily (childe x lumine oneshot)

Lumine let out a huge yawn as she clambered down the steps of the Liyue Inn.

Paimon rubbed her eyes next to her. “Yesterday was such a long day of doing things for Zhongli.” The little guide then perked up. “At least we get a day off today! Paimon thinks we should spend the whole day eating!”

Lumine nodded, mouth salivating at the thought of breakfast. Hmm, what to eat? Grilled Tiger Fish? Mora Meat? Stir-Fried—

She opened the door of the Inn straight into Childe.

“Ahh!” Paimon screamed as Lumine jumped back, hand hovering over the hilt of her sword.

Childe let out a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lumine let out a sigh of relief, dematerializing her blade. Paimon, on the other hand, let out a huff of anger.

She floated over to the Harbinger, hands on her hips. “What is it that you want? Scaring us first thing in the morning like that!”

“Were you waiting outside for me to wake up?” Lumine asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Only for a bit.” He pulled out a pocket watch. “I assumed the two of you like to sleep in,” he said as he dangled the watch in front of Lumine, “and looks like I was right.”

She rolled her eyes upon seeing that it was nearly the afternoon already as Childe gave her a tiny smirk.

Paimon made noises of protest. “Well, it’s not our fault that you and Zhongli have been making us run around doing all these tiring quests!”

“Well, the two of you have proved more than competent in completing these tasks.” His blue eyes lingered on Lumine, and she felt the need to look away. “Speaking of which,” he continued, “I would like for you to accompany me on a trip today.”

“What’s in it for us?” Lumine asked. Paimon feverishly nodded in agreement.

Childe tilted his head. “Well, as always I’m willing to offer lots of Mora…”

Then, Lumine’s stomach growled. Loudly. Her face flushed.

The Harbinger burst out laughing. “And I’ll throw in breakfast, on me.”

Lumine huffed and crossed her arms, face still burning. “Fine, we’ll take your deal.”

Paimon spun around excitedly. “Yay! Food!”

“So, where to?” Childe asked.

Lumine walked past him, going towards the smell of cooking food. “Whatever smells best.” From the corner of eye, she saw him shake his head with a smile.

After a few moments of following their noses, Paimon and the traveler stopped in front of Su Er’niang’s street food stand.

“That smells…” Lumine started.

“Sooooo gooood!” Paimon interjected, quickly flying to the vendor. “What is that you’re cooking?”

Su Er’niang smiled. “Why, it’s my delicious Zhongyuan Chop Suey!” She held up a plate of aromatic seasoned fish and meat skewers, nestled on a bed of glistening greens. Saliva dripped from Paimon’s mouth.

“How much for a plate?” Lumine asked, after swallowing her own watering mouthful.

“6,600 Mora!”

Her jaw dropped. “6-6,00 Mora for one plate?”

She felt a gloved hand rest on her shoulder, and a bag descended in front of her face.

“Here’s 20,000 Mora,” Childe’s voice rang out above her, directed at the vendor. “Get us three plates. You can keep the leftover money.”

“Oh, uhm, thank you, sir,” Su Er’niang said, taking the bag, eyes nervously flickering between the Fatui member and the traveler.

Ah, yes, the Fatui are very much feared. And for good reason. Lumine recalled Signoria’s attack on her and Venti. How cold and violent it was. She shuddered and shook off Childe’s hand.

“Let’s find a place to sit,” she said, walking away. Childe’s hand briefly hovered where it had been on her shoulder, before dropping to his side. He started to follow her to a table.

The two sat down across from each other, but the air had changed. The harbor was bustling with life in the afternoon sun, but all Lumine felt was Childe’s icy gaze. She tried to awkwardly eat, while his food remained untouched. Paimon scarfed down the skewers, completely oblivious to the tension in front of her. After a while, Lumine set down her food, opening her mouth to say something. But Childe spoke first.

“You still don’t trust me.” His eyes held the same hurt expression from before, when she had initially expressed her distrust of him about the Signoria incident. However, Zhongli wasn’t there to break the tension this time.

“You know why,” Lumine said, her voice tight. “The Fatui can’t be trusted.” It was harsh to say, but it was true. If she let people too close—a member of the Fatui at that—there was no telling what would happen; it could jeopardize her and her brother, wherever he was. If they found out she wasn’t of this world…

The Harbinger’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I won’t disagree there. But I have no interest in being like Signoria, or like the rest of the Fatui at that. As I’ve said before, I don’t agree with their methods.”

“Then why continue to be a part of it?”

“Yeah, you should leave if you don’t like them,” Paimon said quietly, hovering behind Lumine’s shoulder, scared.

He crossed his arms. “We all have our reasons for doing things. I have my reasons to do what I do, just like how you,” he said, leaning in, “have your reasons for keeping secrets.”

Lumine and Childe stared at each other, both with their eyes calculating and searching for answers.

Then, he let out a chuckle, breaking the tension. “Let’s not get so serious so early in the day!” He took a bite of the Chop Suey. “Tasty! Thankfully we don’t need chopsticks for this,” he said with a wink.

The traveler’s brows furrowed, and she exchanged a worried look with Paimon.

Childe sighed. “Look, I’d like for us to be...friends. Would that be so bad?”

Friends…

“Come with me today, and I promise, no funny business,” he said.

After a moment of silence, Lumine finally spoke, “Where would we be going anyways?” Was this a bad idea?

“Qingce Village.” He seemed to perk up slightly at Lumine agreeing. “I’m on a diplomatic mission, but it’s a rather long journey there alone.” He gave a small smile. “It would be a lot easier with another person accompanying me.”

“Hey! Paimon’s here too!” the fairy protested.

“Sorry, two other people accompanying me.”

“Why not any of your subordinates?” Lumine asked.

Childe rested his chin on his hand, tilting his head. “Boring. It’s always silent. Or, it’s ‘Yes, sir’ this and ‘Yes, sir’ that. I’d much rather have someone like you with me.” His eyes locked with hers.

She felt butterflies in her stomach. She scoffed, trying to get rid of them. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as you finish your food, girlie.”

Lumine stuffed a whole skewer in her mouth, trying to hide the heat that was steadily rising from her stomach to her face. Childe laughed.

“Hurry up, Lumine! Paimon’s already all done!” Paimon lifted her empty plate, going to show Childe. Struggling under the weight, however, she accidentally hit him in the face.

Lumine snorted, and soon, the three of them were all smiles and laughs.

Friends...Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…

                               * * *

“Are we almost there yet? Paimon’s tired…,” Paimon asked, dramatically drooping her shoulders.

“You don’t even walk, you float,” Lumine said.

Paimon pouted. “Doesn’t make it any less tiring.”

“We’re nearly there. The last bridge to cross is up ahead,” Childe answered.

“Oo, Lumine look!” Paimon floated to a plant with shining red fruit hanging from its branches. “Juyeun Chilis!”

Seeing the chilis reminded her of Xiangling. She grimaced at the thought of slime soup.

Paimon sniffed one, and immediately began coughing. “W-wow! Even—cough—even the smell is s-spicy!”

Childe walked over and plucked one, examining it. “Hmm, I’ve yet to try one during my stay in Liyue.”

“Do you like spicy food?” Lumine asked.

“Not necessarily. But, I’m not opposed to trying new things.” He proceeded to take a bite of the chili, as if it were an apple.

Lumine and Paimon both gasped.

He looked at them. “What?”

The traveler regarded him with wide eyes. “Y-you have no reaction?”

He shrugged. “I guess not.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“Oh? You really think so?” His blue eyes glinted.

Before Lumine could respond, a group of Treasure Hoarders jumped out from the shadows of the bamboo lining the pathway.

“What do we have here? Some lone travelers?” the largest of the group said.

“Some lone travelers we easily outnumber, boss,” another Hoarder added, waving his bow around.

The other Hoarders laughed sardonically, all brandishing their weapons of choice. There were 10 of them, all closing in around Lumine, Childe, and Paimon.

“Give us all your belongings, and we won’t make a fuss,” the boss demanded.

Soon, Lumine and Childe were back to back, with Paimon frantically looking for somewhere to hide.

“Think you can take half of them?” Childe murmured.

Lumine scoffed. “Of course.”

“When I draw my spear then.”

She inched her hand towards where her hilt would materialize momentarily. Then, WHOOSH, the sound of rushing water filled her ears as Childe’s spear formed next to her.

Lumine’s sword appeared in her hand as she rushed forth, striking the closest enemy. They were stunned, giving her time to charge up a Palm Vortex, which ended up sending two of the Hoarders spiraling away. With three left, she charged with her blade again, continuously delivering hits, then sending out a Gust Surge, blowing the remaining three enemies away.

She turned to Childe, ready to assist him, only to find him standing there, watching her. The Treasure Hoarders on his side were already subdued, all groaning on the ground in pain.

“Very impressive,” he said. “No wonder you’re the renowned ‘Hero of Mondstadt.’”

She rolled her eyes. “Good job to you too.”

Paimon flew out from behind a nearby rock. “Whew! We took those guys out fast!”

Lumine raised her brows. “We?”

“You and Childe make a good team!” Paimon said, ignoring the question.

“Yes, I’d say we do,” the Harbinger agreed. “What do you say we join forces?”

“No thank you,” Lumine answered. “Dealing with Paimon is enough.”

“Hey!”

Lumine started walking towards the bridge. “C’mon, it’s almost nighttime,” she said, eyeing the colors of the sunset splashed across the sky.

As the three of them crossed the bridge, the sight of the village came into view.

Lumine gaped at the beautiful sea of yellow and orange fields and crystal rivers. She went straight to one of the fields, looking at the colorful flowers.

“So pretty!” Paimon said, laying down in the plants, and closing her eyes. “So soft…”

“I take it you like the village?” Childe asked, walking up behind them.

The traveler nodded. “It’s quiet. Peaceful.”

They stood in silence for a while. Birds chirped. The wind rustled. In the distance, children playfully screamed. The sun was dipping below the horizon, and Paimon’s tiny snores started to fill the air. Childe and Lumine both chuckled.

“Before I speak with the elders,” he started. He leaned down, and picked something out of the ground. A brilliant blue flower with shimmering white petals in the center. “Here.” He held it out for Lumine.

“A glaze lily?” she asked. She remembered seeing some at Liyue Harbor.

“Yes. They’re an extremely ancient flower, and they only open at night.” He brought it closer to her nose. “Zhongli said that it transforms the memories of the land into its fragrance when it opens.”

Lumine leaned in, closed her eyes, and sniffed. There was a scent of the earth, reminiscent of the vast mountain ranges across the land, along with the salty spray of the ocean.

“Yes, it definitely smells like how I would imagine Liyue smells.” She opened her eyes, and to her shock, found Childe’s face closer to hers than before.

She blushed slightly, wanting to back away, but his intense icy blue eyes kept her in place. One of his hands reached up, and then took out the white flowers in her hair.

“Let’s see how this looks,” he said, quieter—his voice more husky—than usual. He gently put the glaze lily in her hair, then stared at her silently.

Lumine’s heart was racing. “W-what?”

He smiled. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie,” she said.

“Okay.” He leaned in close. “You’re very beautiful.”

Then, Childe kissed her.

If it was possible, Lumine would’ve thought the top of her head blew off, leaving the rest of her body to boil alive in the heat she was feeling.

“Ah-uh-uhm,” she tried to speak; her tongue refused to listen.

He pulled away and chuckled. “Stay close by until I’m done with my meeting, okay?”

“Ah-uh-wha-what?” she stuttered.

Childe casually sauntered away. “Be back soon!”

Lumine stood in place for what seemed like an eternity, trying to keep her brain from melting away.

Did that really just happen?!

“Ch-Childe,” she said, but her voice was barely above a whisper. He was already a dot in the distance. “Childe!” she shouted. But he couldn’t hear her.

Paimon stirred awake. “Huuuuh? What happened?” she slurred, lazily floating up from the ground.

“I—,” Lumine said, “I don’t know.”

It was a surprise. Definitely a huge surprise.

But...she didn’t hate it.

In fact, against everything she had thought of him at this point, she enjoyed it.

She brushed her fingers over her lips. Then, she took the glaze lily from her hair, looking at it over and over again.

Childe...Is he an enemy? A friend? Or is he something more?

[Fic Masterlist]

[nvrlostword]

cookie run kingdom au bc i’m out of control

ok first of all the kid cookies legally cannot go on missions

chili pepper (though she generally hates rules) established this rule after stage 2-18 when she saw the jelly worm get turned into a dragon and thought maybe this wasn’t the best environment for children

soon after this snow sugar and alchemist run into espresso and are like “wow! a magic cookie! will you come live in our kingdom?!”

espresso agrees because he’s a big softie for kids deep down because he’s been roaming around studying magic for a little while now and it would be nice to have a place to settle down and maybe start up a coffee magic school

of course as soon as they reach the kingdom gate, who else would be there but madeleine cookie

espresso: i need to leave immediately

espresso does consider booking it but alchemist seems so eager to learn magic from him and how could he break his promise to snow sugar to live in her kingdom

meanwhile madeleine, who’s been in the kingdom for a little while now, is surprised to see that one guy from the republic again so he waves cheerfully at espresso and espresso just. walks past him. not even acknowledged

espresso hopes that he won’t have to interact with madeleine much and he can just ignore him. unfortunately, the only house available is the one next to madeleine’s (because madeleine’s house gives off a blinding aura that makes it hard for other cookies to sleep at night, thus no one wants to live next to him except angel cookie, who’s his neighbor on the other side)

regret.png

at DAWN the next day madeleine’s at espresso’s door. espresso (regrettably) answers after like two and a half hours of madeleine standing there at his door, knocking

madeleine asks espresso to join the exploration team and espresso slams the door in his face

madeleine continues to talk to espresso through the door and espresso makes a note to ask the sugar gnomes to install a thicker door

the only reason espresso eventually agrees is because snow sugar asks him to

so when espresso joins, he’s not terribly surprised that the team is a mess (because why else would madeleine, of all people, ask him to join- he must have been desperate), but he didn’t expect it to be... well, as much of a mess as it was. we’ve got madeleine (strong but stupid), avocado (who’s okay at combat but really is a lot better at weaponsmithing), angel (who sometimes does healing magic but more often than not just focuses on making a glowing aura around madeleine), and vampire (does he even do anything???).

madeleine is so happy to have a cookie that’s competent in combat that he gives espresso one of those friendly pats on the back except he’s too overexcited and ends up knocking espresso over

espresso: *long sigh*

so a couple days later espresso is like “why tf is chili pepper cookie not on our combat team???”

turns out chili pepper and madeleine had a disagreement about the morality of stealing and chili pepper refused to do combat for the kingdom ever since

espresso comes in and smooths things over and chili pepper replaces vampire cookie in the exploration team, a change which makes everyone happier

then they meet rye cookie during the chilirye quests

episode 4 and the beginning of episode 5 are kind of rough for our exploration team bc they’re being chased by both licorice and rye cookie

but when they get to pomegranate village and rye hears the whole thing about dark enchantress cookie coming to take over the world, rye begrudgingly agrees to work with the team and avocado goes back to working at the kingdom forge

thus, an epic slow burn chilirye romance begins

the same thing has been happening with espresseleine but like stupidly slow

lore time: ok so in my mind dark magic and black magic are two different things. black magic is like the evil stuff dark enchantress uses, and it’s just one branch of dark magic (coffee magic would be another branch of dark magic), but a lot of cookies get the two confused and so dark mages are looked at as evil

what does this have to do with anything, you ask? well, it just so happens that madeleine and espresso did, in fact, meet once before when they were kids. madeleine was afraid of espresso bc he practiced “black” magic and ran away from him

madeleine doesn’t remember this interaction. espresso does.

it was espresso’s first experience with cookies mistaking him for a black mage, and it wouldn’t be the last, especially from light mages. this is part of why he’s so dedicated to his studies- to prove that not all dark magic is bad

so as the group travels together, they all realize some things. chili pepper and rye realize they’re not so different after all, espresso and madeleine (respectively) realize that dark and light magic (and each other) aren’t so bad, and angel cookie realizes she’s surrounded by gay cookies

everything goes great until 7-25. you remember 7-25 and the nightmare-ridden librarian? i do. i was stuck on that level for WEEKS

anyway. the party gets to the librarian and they are HURTING. chili pepper and rye end up confessing their love to each other- which says a lot about how dire the situation was if you could get two lesbians to confess their love

so madeleine’s at the front and the librarian is about to absolutely murder him when espresso says not today, not my man. espresso steps up and uses all of his remaining energy to send the librarian to a pocket dimension or something, but espresso ends up getting pulled in too and he’s assumed dead

he’s not dead he’s just kinda in suspended animation in the void but the others don’t know that

then the cookies go back to the kingdom bc they need healing, right? wrong. madeleine stays by where espresso disappeared and refuses to move bc what if he comes back, he was injured and when he comes back he’ll need someone there to help him even if he won’t admit it, he’ll be back any minute now

eventually chili pepper has to knock madeleine out just so they can get back to the kingdom

they’re all kinda depresso about losing espresso but none moreso than madeleine. he’s so depressed, in fact, that his light magic actually weakens

he’s still a part of the exploration missions but he’s just. distracted. in a way he wasn’t before. he’s more careless in battle, spends more time alone, and people have actually seen him without his smile

so while our crew is somewhere in episode 8, pomegranate cookie happens to go back to the library and finds the dark magic rift. unlike the cookies on our adventure team, she can actually open it

pomegranate, finding a weakened espresso in the rift: it’s free real estate

pomegranate is really impressed by espresso’s magical talent and takes him back to dark enchantress cookie (who has been summoned at this point and is starting to really cause chaos). dark enchantress wants to recruit espresso but he refuses because of a certain light magic idiot dark enchantress is the one who made people look at dark magic as evil

dark enchantress: ok *casts a mind control spell on espresso*

posesso the espresso

meanwhile, madeleine is doing the talking to himself thing that he does (in the MIDDLE of a battle) and he’s like “why would espresso do that, anyway? he’s never done anything selfless in his life!” and chili pepper just rolls her eyes and as she’s taking out an enemy and says “because he was in love with you”

*madeleine voice* HUH????????

everyone else thought madeleine and espresso were together bc they obviously had a thing for each other and that’s why madeleine was so distraught when espresso “died”

madeleine suddenly realizes he like likes espresso, which is unfortunate bc he’s “dead”

at this exact moment, white lily shows up claiming she was attacked by espresso

madeleine: THAT’S WONDERFUL NEWS!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!11!!

some distance away, possessed!espresso facepalms. “why did i just do that,” he wonders

so this is how they learn espresso is alive but possessed by dark enchantress. madeleine, however, only cares about the first part, bc at least there’s hope now that he can bring espresso home

his magic returns, even stronger than before, and the revitalized team plows through the rest of episode 8

so they finally get to dark enchantress and face her. dark choco decides to join the hero team bc pomegranate bullied him

which is really good for the team bc their front, madeleine, runs off to fight possessed!espresso alone at the beginning of the fight

espresso and madeleine would do a lot of sparring and stuff together and they were pretty evenly matched because of their different areas of strength, but this is different bc possessed!espresso is actively trying to kill madeleine and he has a black magic buff

possessed!espresso has the upper hand here, so he gets madeleine cornered and is about to deliver the final blow but he can’t

madeleine sees his hesitation and is like !!!!!! he’s still in there!!!!!!!

he also realizes there’s a pomegranate seed over the eye that espresso covers with his hair and realizes that must be what’s causing the possession spell (like in ovenbreak story run when wind archer gets possessed)

instead of fighting possessed!espresso, madeleine starts talking to him, reminding him of how they started out as kind of enemies, but how they became close friends. madeleine talks about how espresso made him realize that not all dark magic was evil, and there’s beauty in dark magic, too, all while slowly getting closer to possessed!espresso, who’s still poised and ready to deliver the killing blow

finally, madeleine asks possessed!espresso to trust him, and then he reaches out and touches the pomegranate seen over possessed!espresso’s eye. there’s a burst of light magic, the seed falls off, and espresso is back to normal

he and madeleine confess their feelings to each other then go help the others defeat dark enchantress cookie. the kingdom is saved, everyone is happy, and our two couples live in domestic bliss the end

[thestraggletag]

Roll for Initiative, a Rumbelle D&D Fic

Summary: Tales of the Enchanted Forest was the hottest online D&D game, in part for its charismatic players, in part for the twisted turns of the DM's mind and in part because of the outrageous chemistry between its greatest OTP, the party's beautiful bard and the Dark One, an anti-hero side-character who is there to provide information and uncomfortable levels of UST. Mr Gold thinks it's a harmless flirtation that could never become anything else, just like his silly little crush on the town librarian, Belle French.

He's wrong.

Rating: Explicit.

Author’s Note: Surprise, @argoslight​, it is I, your Gifter! Sorry to make you wait till near the end but I just had way more banter to write in me than I thought. I hope you enjoy your gift. I’m so sorry to not be able to add more D&D elements but since I don’t play I don’t have a lot of idea of what could be done. Also I apologise for any mistakes! And thanks so much to @little-inkstone for her help and D&D knowledge.

The castle was quiet when she entered, her steps echoing against the stone. It was gloomy inside, curtains obscured and decor sparse and sombre, the castle living up to its name. But there were flowers on the table, moon lilies, her favourite flower. They bloomed only in the Eastern Mountains past the Old Wall, but she had long since suspected he grew some on one of his enchanted hothouses, with the excuse of using them for potions. 

“Where’s the rest of your pretty little troop of do-gooders, dearie?”

The voice came out of nowhere, echoing around the empty halls of the castle. Thankfully she did not need directions, knowing exactly when to turn and where to go. Soon she found herself in a vast room, with a table on the centre and curios filled with oddities and the like. Some others were displayed on pedestals, including a rather fearsome sword and a nasty-looking crown made of thorns. None of the artefacts were what she sought, but she was not there to bargain for an item, but rather for information.

“Off on their own quests, taking care of other things that need doing.”

The voice tsked, seeming not to approve.

“They let you enter the lair of the beast alone? Some heroes.”

The woman lowered the hood of her cloak and walked towards the unlit chimney. Immediately a fire blazed to life, as if the castle itself was trying to cater to her comfort. The fire provided much-needed light as well, revealing the profile of a man in the shadows. Or something that looked like a man, at least, if not for the reflective scales that covered his body and its strange eyes: gold irises around catlike pupils.

“I asked to come alone. I felt like we could talk more openly this way.”

She removed her cloak, ostensibly to drape it across a chair near the fire and let it dry. The creature, however, seemed to read more into the gesture, tsking again.

“You come here all alone, a pretty little lamb, and take off the only real bit of protection you have. Reckless, dearie, most reckless.”

 The creature stood up, walking slowly towards the light, revealing more of its form as it approached her. Leather pants and a long, reptilian-looking vest and coat. It wasn’t particularly tall but power emanated from it in suffocating waves. She closed her eyes, finding his cloying presence strangely comforting. Then again, she had always been odd. 

“Once again your pitiful little party of friends needs my help. How they weigh you down, Beauty.”

He stepped fully into the light then, revealing a being more creature than man, the reptilian skin and claws as off-putting as his unnatural eyes. She should’ve taken a step back, should’ve gone for her blade or the dagger tucked into her left boot, but she didn’t. As much as she knew she shouldn't, she felt at ease in his presence. Well, perhaps not quite. She certainly felt a strange sort of anxiousness in his presence, a fluttery sort of feeling that she attributed to being particularly attuned to his magic. None of the other members of her party felt that way. If anything, he repulsed them, which wasn’t something she could understand. To her he was… magnetic.

“Are you in the mood for dealing or not? I can trade for information.”

He snorted.

“With what? Your little band of misfits is dirt poor. That idiotic paladin of yours ruined your last mission. You really should think about ditching the man. All brawn, no brains. At least your rogue is a smart woman.”

His gaze left her briefly, running down the length of her clothing: sturdy black boots, a nicely-cut dress that stopped around the knees and a sturdy belt with a few pockets for her spells. But the clothing, as well-made as it was, was dated, old. Looked worn and was signed and stained in places, and it left a lot of her frail human skin exposed. She had not been able to afford an upgrade in a while, preferring to spend her coin in what could benefit the group.

His moue of distaste disappeared once his eyes fell on her cloak. Well, his cloak, since he had been the one to make it. It was a lovely thing in varied shades of green, shot through with golden thread, his trademark. She had bought it off him a long time ago, a simple thing to keep her warm during cold nights and dry when it rained. Miraculously, though, it also did not sustain damage, looking exactly the same as when she had first put it on.

“I’m glad at least my protection is serving you well.”

He ran a claw along the seams of the cloak, making it glitter, like to like, magic calling for its own. He looked smug, as if pleased she was wearing something he had made.

“It does more than we bargained for. I’ve been blasted with magic strong enough to burn through most fabric but it has not even frayed. How strange of you, Rumplestiltskin, to lose out on a deal.”

He shivered when she said his name, walking behind her to the safety of the shadow she cast next to the fire.

“Can’t help it if my magic is just that powerful, my dear. I’m glad you are a happy customer. Always thought that cloak was a nice bit of magic. Can’t fault you for always wearing it.”

She felt him close in on her from behind, to the point that it almost felt like they were touching.

“It smells like you. That’s why I wear it all the time.”

The noise he made behind her was inhuman, a cross between a whimper and a growl. His claws scrapped against the back of her dress, the feeling muted by her stays, but she could feel his breath against the back of her neck and that alone was-

“Hey, this is a decent stream! Keep it PG for the kids, you weirdos.”

“Damn it, Grumpy, I wanted to see how long it would take them to snap out of it!”

“Sorry, Snow, but I ate a big dinner and I aim to keep it down.”

The messages in the chatroom wheezed by, mostly disgruntled complaints about their OTP never catching a break. The other participants in the stream were mostly silent, their mics muted likely to hide the amused snickers. There was no video feed on any of the members of the party, all of them represented instead by artwork to preserve their anonymity. Once upon a time that had been a fanciful choice, and perhaps a way to stay safe when interacting with strangers on the internet. Now it was mostly to keep their private lives from being overtaken by the popularity of their stream. “Tales of the Enchanted Forest” was shaping up to be one of the hottest D&D online streaming shows, already on its third campaign and counting.

“Beauty is just trying to get us some answers, Grumpy. We can’t just go stumbling about hoping to run into some fairy wand by chance.”

“Oh, it’s that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Enough! Can we get back to the campaign already? It took me weeks to plan and it kinda hinges a bit on the Dark One helping, which needs to happen today.”

“Fine by me, dearie, if the dwarf can curtail his temper.”

The party was composed of five characters, a paladin, a cleric, a bard, a rogue and a thief, which along with the Dungeon Master made up the regular cast of every weekly stream. But given the popularity of the show, and the amount of time they had been playing, they had managed to amass a good amount of side-characters, guests invited every now and then to help the campaign move along and keep the interest of the audience. And by far the most popular of those guests was the Dark One, a wizard of unknown lineage and tremendous power that served both as an antagonist and a pseudo-ally depending on the situation. 

His presence was likely the reason why the livestream’s numbers looked so robust. He had amassed quite a fanbase, due in part to the commitment the player put on the character (the voice-acting was above and beyond what anyone could’ve expected from an amateur performer, and the backstory was quite complex, revealed in bits and pieces fans had meticulously assembled together) and in part to the chemistry he had managed to develop with the group’s bard, a half-human named Beauty.

“Okay, let’s all go back to what we were doing.” The DM’s voice was authoritative, though also more than a bit pissed off. “Okay, Beauty, you were about to try and cajole the Dark One to sell you the information you needed in return for a vial of water from Lake Nostos. Though the water is valuable, it’s not guaranteed to be enough to tempt the wizard. You have to roll at least a 13 in persuasion to make the trade. Roll when you’re ready.”

...

Rumford Gold stretched within the confines of the small backroom of his shop, where he had his computer stuff set up. Initially he’d bought the computer to better conduct his online business. His laptop at home wasn’t cutting it and it was better to photograph the antiques, update the website and handle the deliveries from his place of business. He had bought a good camera, some light fixtures and, on a whim, a microphone, for instances where he might need to virtually communicate with clients. It was something that was happening more and more, especially because a lot of his clientele was European. The internet had truly turned his antiquing- more of a hobby than a profession originally- into a profitable business.

He had gotten into watching D&D while waiting late at night for a client to become available in Austria. He had played as a lad, one of the few happy moments he could remember from his childhood in Glasgow, but had given it up once he had met Milah. And after they were over he had been too involved in making something of himself to remember past childhood enjoyments. But apparently D&D had evolved with the times and he had gotten into the habit of searching for and watching online D&D campaigns in his spare time. From that to actually being a side-character in one of them took almost no time. It was frightfully easy to go back to that frame of mind of playing make-believe, only now he had a distaste for the clean-cut heroic types and more of an affinity for the morally-grey, shady characters.

So he had auditioned for the role of evil-wizard when there had been an opening for a side-character in his favourite D&D stream, The Enchanted Forest. And though the DM had written what he considered to be a very flat, uninteresting character, he had been able to give it his own spin. He knew the DM hated him for it, hated when he deviated from what was expected of him, but people loved him. It was half the fun, pissing the DM off.

The other half, he had to admit, was Beauty. The one with the brains in the group, clearly, a half-human, half-fairy bard with an uncanny ability to think ahead, and arm herself with knowledge. Most of the other members of her party were more apt to try and decapitate something than negotiate with it, or even befriend it. Beauty prided herself on more of a gentle approach, which sometimes got her treated as the “fragile” one. He thought it just made her all the more interesting.

Their flirting had just kinda happened. He was half into it before he realised it had begun at all and by the time he had grown conscious- and self-conscious- of it fans were lapping it up and loving it. Even the DM, as loath as he was to admit it, found the banter engaging, even as if stole the spotlight from his story and where he wanted it to go. So every now and then he got invited into a stream, sometimes to interact with the whole party and sometimes, like the session he had just finished, to speak only to Beauty. And what was supposed to be a brief conversation before the party moved to greener pastures became a whole session, with the chatroom full of engagement and the view count off the charts.

But the DM had had a short tolerance span tonight, and had nipped things in the bud much sooner than usual. He felt… unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. Itchy, almost, in a way. So he was more than happy when he received an email from Beauty, who seemed to share his dislike of how the session had played out. They had started doing that more often, sharing emails after a session, even when he did not participate in it. It was harmless, he thought. Just an innocent online flirtation that could never realistically turn into anything. Not that his more in-person romantic overtures could ever pan out. He was in his third year of being completely smitten by the local town librarian, and in his second year of being able to put two words together in front of her without the help from Scotch, something he was perhaps a bit too proud of. And though he had decided very early on that the whole thing was utterly hopeless he had not been able to steer his thoughts or affections away. Realistically he was perhaps more in love with the idea of Belle French than the reality itself, given how little he had personally interacted with the woman. But he knew just enough to fill in the blanks and create a beautiful picture of how he imagined her to be: bookish- an easy assumption given how many times he had caught her in public places absorbed in a book-, kind, generous and delightfully able to hold a grudge and enact revenge when the time came. A bit reckless, and sometimes quick to form opinions, but also quick to revise them. A tactile person, with a great sense of fashion and a carelessness about what was expected of her.

He saw her in his head as clear as day, but little of that image was based on any personal knowledge of her. So, perhaps, he had found in Beauty a fictional substitute, someone he could talk to, and flirt with, without consequences, adopting the persona of someone more confident, more at ease with that sort of thing. The Dark One was comfortable in his skin in a way that he could only pretend to be sometimes. All the money and power he had accumulated over the years had helped him evolve from the spineless, cowardly lad he had once been, but when it came to certain situations, especially those that necessitated a level of vulnerability, he was still hopeless.

Perhaps, he wondered, it was better to think about his online liaison with Beauty as the real thing. They wrote to each other often, in and out of character, and over the course of their correspondence he had confided in her more than he had in any other person alive. Small things at first, every day peeves and details. Nothing that could identify them, certainly, but surprisingly intimate nevertheless. And over time it had grown to stuttering confessions and barings of the soul on both sides. She had told him of her teenage years in a mental asylum, the product of an overwrought widowed father trying to do right by his grieving daughter. He had had a few choice words to say about that, uncharitable thoughts about her father prompting his own willing sharing of the sad story of his childhood, neglectful father and all. It had felt nice, to confide in someone, someone he trusted.

He glanced at her email, where she lamented how their scene had not been as long or as satisfying as she had wanted, and saw she was proposing to meet later in a private stream to finish it the way they had both wanted. She had proposed something similar once or twice before and he had politely declined but now he wondered why not take her up on her offer. What was stopping him? His imaginary idea of Belle French, who in reality had never given him more than a polite smile in passing? Too young, too good, too beautiful to ever see him as anything other than an old cripple? Whatever he had built with Beauty felt infinitely more real, and attainable. A relationship without ever meeting in person seemed ideal in many aspects and, perhaps, if and when it came to meeting in the real world, his physical shortcomings would not be relevant, nor would it his rather uncharitable reputation.

He sent her a quick reply to arrange a meeting, feeling like a bit of roleplaying was, in the end, quite harmless. And if it were to lead to something a bit more meaningful, well, perhaps it was about time.

…

“Water from Lake Nostos. A key ingredient in most powerful potions and even some spells. I’m sure it could prove useful to you.”

The bard showed him the glowing crystal vial hanging from a long chain around her neck, with the glowing milky-white water from the cursed lake in it. He made a move to get closer to inspect it but the woman took a step back, tucking the vial back inside her bodice. The wizard’s eyes lingered there, hiz gaze growing intense. The bard felt her skin flush in response, something that felt a bit like fear but wasn’t running down her spine.

“And I’m sure a new wardrobe could prove useful to you, dearie. You’re practically wearing rags.” Rumplestiltskin made a show of running his eyes up and down her form with just enough disgust in his face to make it seem as if he was only noticing the rather sad state of her dress. 

“It’s my best gown, I’d thank you not to insult it.”

He made a moue of disapproval, shaking his head for good measure.

“You’re far from your days as a princess. I hope seeing the world is worth putting up with your band of idiots that waste most of the gold they earn with your wit in pointless goose chases that you know will lead nowhere.”

Beauty didn’t respond. There was nothing she could say to contradict what he thought of her party, none of which was charitable to say the least. And she also knew that he was aware that all of it was worth the freedom she had won when she had left her life in her father’s castle behind. She did miss one or two things, perhaps. Her mother’s vast library being one and, perhaps, some of the fashions. Not so much the silhouettes- she had never liked how the sea of petticoats she was always forced to wear restricted her movement- but the fabrics and colours, certainly. And the shoes.

“I’m here to make a deal, Dark One. Are you doing business today or not?”

Lesser creatures would’ve rather bitten off their tongues that throw cheek at the Dark One, but Beauty did not even bat an eye, lips curling in a defiant little smile that had the wizard smirking, something like admiration blooming in his chest. It’s what he loved most about his little bard, her spine of steel. And perhaps her blue eyes, but that was neither here nor there.

“I don’t do business with raggedy urchins, dearie. If you want to sit down and negotiate you’ll need a bath.” He made a face, as if he could smell her across the room. “And a change of dress, while I put your current outfit to wash… Or set it on fire, I haven’t decided yet.”

She could tell that he was pulling his punches, that he was playing at being repulsed by her state of dress and hygiene just bad enough that she would see he did not really mean it, not in any real way. She would’ve been able to tell either way, but it was nice that he thought it important to spare her feelings. And she couldn’t deny that a bath sounded heavenly after so many weeks on the road, sleeping out in the open and washing in freezing-cold creeks whenever possible.

“Well, if you insist…”

He took her to a well-lit and spacious bathing chamber, with the biggest copper tub she had ever seen, already filled with warm, soapy water that smelled of vanilla. She wasted no time after the door closed behind him, stripping quickly, careless of her worn and mended garments, and slipping into the tub. It was heaven on her tired muscles, and her dirty skin, and though she would’ve stayed there for hours she knew that every minute spent bathing was a minute less with the Dark One. Their time was limited. If she didn’t return to camp in the morning her party would venture into the castle, likely thinking the most dreadful scenarios. She could picture Charming attempting to kick the front gate open and getting hurt for his troubles. She could not let them worry for her, or risk the rapport she had developed with the Dark One by coming in unannounced. 

She got out of the tub with only a bit of reluctance and found a towel that she was convinced was enchanted to dry her faster than possible. She found clothing laid out in the adjoining dressing room, the undergarments soft and made of pale cream fabric and the dress of a lovely velvety, forest-green fabric, with a belt embroidered in small pearls that matched the detail about the neckline. She put it on gladly, twisting every which way to lace it up at her back. Living a less princessy life had made her acquire a number of small skills, including the ability to dress up mostly by herself even in gowns that did not lace up at the front, like most of her travelling clothes.

She did not spot her mauve travelling dress or her boots, but she was sure that Rumplestiltskin had whisked them away and would subtly mend them with magic, though she was sure he would deny it if she were to point it out. The green dress was accompanied by matching slippers, butter-soft and silent as they touched the stone floor. She made sure to dry her hair out, noticing how it shone red-gold in the flattering light of the candles, and took her time brushing it and styling it out of her face, so it fell flatteringly down her back. Her neck and most of her upper torso was bare but for the chain keeping the vial of water tucked safely against her breasts, the wide neckline of the dress dipping low enough to leave her collarbones bare, but she didn’t mind it. She was inside the Dark Castle, with the Dark One. She was safe there. On the road she always had to think about not attracting unwanted male attention. Here she rather felt like the opposite.

It was a silly infatuation, and many would argue any interest or desire on her part was due to the wizard’s power, which some would say was an aphrodisiac potent enough to make some look past the Dark One’s rather unfortunate exterior. No one would ever believe her if she confessed she rather… liked his appearance. The green-gold skin, the wild hair, the talons, but also the exquisitely-tailored pants and vests, the frothy cravats, the slim coats. A beast and a gentleman. A rather enticing combination, she had found.

She went downstairs into the trophy room once more, where two massive chairs were pulled up next to the roaring fireplace, the main source of light. The Dark One was sitting in one of them, a snifter gingerly held by a clawed hand, containing some sort of brown-gold liquid. He glanced at her the moment she entered the room, unwilling or unable to hide his appreciation for what he saw. He had removed his coat, leaving only his high-collared vest and one of his open shirts to cover his upper body, no forty cravat in sight. He seemed less guarded, more adventurous than he usually was when it came to matters of intimacy.

“You clean up well, dearie. Wish I could say the same for your dress. A wash will only do so much for it, but I refrained from throwing it into the fireplace. You’re welcome.”

“Good, as it’s not your property to destroy.” Beauty sat down, with a poise that betrayed her royal upbringing, and primly crossed her legs at the ankles. “So, Dark One, are you prepared to deal with me now?”

She had dealt with him dozens of times before, she had no idea why it all sounded so much like innuendo now. She couldn’t say she minded it.

“Of course, my dear. I’ve had time to think about our deal whilst you were splashing about in the tub.” His sing-songy voice broke, getting suddenly deeper for a second or two, as if he was struggling to retain his composure. “The vial is certainly a good start, but perhaps not quite enough. Now, I’m prepared to be generous given our long and fruitful history of dealmaking together, but I must also keep up certain appearances. So I thought I would also demand… an evening of your time.”

He tried to make it sound sinister, but she was past getting scared of him. At least in the traditional way. She raised an eyebrow, adopting a rather coquettish expression.

“And what would an evening of my time entail exactly?”

“Oh, well, you know. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

She made a show of thinking it over before offering her hand, which he shook without delay.

“It’s a deal.”

Several hours later she had won two games of chess, one game of checkers, and was sipping from her third coupe of sparkling wine as she listened intently to a story about a deal the Dark One had once made with a king from a distant land. He was a gifted storyteller, engaging and funny, knowing exactly when to pause or gesticulate to keep the flow of the story just right. The king in his tale was rather unfortunate, in the sense that his hubris and arrogance had led him to make a deal with the Dark One that he did not understand. Most of Rumplestiltskin’s deals seemed to be like that, Beauty thought. And when he came to collect people dared be indignant that he demanded what they promised in the first place.

“The king was furious. Never let go of the grudge. Hired several assassins to try and kill me. A waste of gold, of course.”

He let out a trilling laugh, which soon proved to be contagious. Somehow, over time, it felt like their chairs had moved closer, because if she stretched out a hand she could easily touch him. Odd.

“Serves him right, for making such an open-ended deal. What a rookie mistake.”

She didn’t recall removing her slippers but she must have, because her feet were enjoying being pressed against the soft cushion of the chair. He made a gesture for her to lean close, which was a bit of a balancing feat, but she managed. Her heart skipped a bit when he leaned close too, almost pressing his mouth against her ear.

“You have no room to talk, sweet. You struck a very vague deal yourself, committing to an evening of conversation, chess ‘and the like’. That little turn of phrase is an invitation to all manner of sins, even the darkest and most decadent of debaucheries.”

He hissed the last part, making her shiver. Not content with letting him have the upper hand she turned her head so their lips were inches apart.

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

She could tell she had shocked him into inaction. Cocky Dark One, always in control of the conversation, always one step ahead of everyone else. It was nice to see him floundering, to catch him unprepared. Finally he gulped and put a little distance between them.

“Aren’t you the bravest little poppet.”

“My mother always said ‘Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’ I’m a firm believer of the principle.”

Slowly, almost painfully so, both his hands clutched at the armrests of her chair, effectively pinning her to it. She knew she was supposed to be scared but she felt nothing but excitement, a buzzing just beneath the skin that made her strangely needy for something. Touch, perhaps, or more. The feeling was so overwhelming she did not realise at first that the laces of her dress were coming undone, as if invisible hands were painstakingly pulling them loose. She tried to make eye contact, but he ducked his head, pressing his face against the base of her neck, where it met her shoulder. She sighed, noticing how gentle he was, his touch feather-light, and discovering that she would not mind a rougher treatment. He was restraining himself, she realised, trying to be a gentleman. Sweet, but not what she wanted from him at that moment. Feeling bold Beauty carded a hand through his hair, pressing his face more firmly against her skin.

“Please, Rumple.”

Those two words seemed to have a magic of their own, producing a sudden and radical change in him. He moved too fast for her to see, wrapping her up in his arms and depositing her on the long dining table on the other side of the room. She did not know whether he used magic or simply moved inhumanly fast, but either possibility excited her, reminded her of the power of the creature looming over her, claws tugging at the unlaced bodice of her dress, dragging the velvet down to expose her undergarments. She was wearing the underbust corset he had provided over the snowy linen shift he had also left for her, so it was easy for him to simply tug the shift down a bit to expose her breasts. He leaned forward, nuzzling the space between her breasts, making a sort of satisfied purring noise as he sniffed up her clavicles and down her throat. Then, once he was happy with the level of squirming she was doing, he finally gave her what she wanted, closing his mouth, with all of its sharp teeth, around one of her rosy nipples. It was a strange feeling at first, more unfamiliar than pleasant, but when he began to suck it changed completely, little shocks of pleasure running from her nipple to between her legs. It was amazing, more than she had ever achieved with her own hands whenever she could get some privacy at night, and the feeling doubled when he grasped her untouched breast, his long claws estimulating the other nipple.

She sunk both her hands in his hair, fisting it in an effort to keep herself from squirming too much, feeling both aroused and impatient. She kept waiting for him to tire of her chest and move further down but when he was finally done sucking her nipples his head moved north, his lips blinding searching for hers till they were kissing. It wasn’t anything like any kiss she had experienced before, not even the unpleasant smack her former fiance had forced on her. Though it was just as forceful there was a wild quality to it, one she had never associated with the affectionate gesture. It was heavenly, the release of passion, far from cooling her down, setting her on fire, stoking her need for him till it felt like she would explode if he didn’t give her relief. 

He must have sensed it, her desperation calling to him like a siren song, because at some point he let go of her mouth to travel south, past her aching chest, and velvet-covered belly to where the skirts of her long gown kept her modestly covered. He wasted no time dragging the heavy fabric up, letting it pool around her hips along with the white linen of her shift. She did not have any other undergarments, having not been provided with any, so she was completely exposed to his gaze, from her milky things to her round hips. She squirmed, trying to picture what he must be looking at, the trim thatch of chestnut curls at the apex of her legs, obscenely drenched by this point and making a poor show of trying to hide the pink, glistening flesh beneath.

“What a lovely cunt you have.” His voice was dark, guttural, a monster trying to speak like a man. It thrilled her. “Let me drink from it, precious.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, choosing instead to simply bury his head against her flesh, his tongue rough and wide as it lapped at her field parting them to seek out the bundle of nerves that was throwing for attention. She arched her back, feeling like it was only her firm grip on her thigh and hip what kept her anchored to the table. She fell into a rhythm of sorts, her body seeking out something she could not find but his mouth striving to compensate, to give her what she needed. It was heavenly and seemed to last an eternity, the sensations building up till everything but them faded away, all sensations muted. She felt him move to, thrusting his hips against the edge of the table, making it rattle in a way that spoke of his sheer brute force. It was heady to have someone like Rumplestiltskin, who had always strived to don the mask of a gentleman around her, be so unhinged, so animalistic. More than anything it was that complete loss of control what drove her over the edge. She cried out, feeling her inner muscles coil and her senses spiral out of control, her orgasm leaving her dizzy. It seemed to last forever and not nearly long enough. She laid there for a while after the feeling passed, feeling satisfied and wanting at the same time. A few seconds later he also keened, slumping against her still-parted legs, his hair tickling the soft skin of her inner thighs.

They lay that way for what seemed like ages, while they scrambled to try and collect themselves. The afterglow did not feel awkward or uncomfortable, and it loosened up her tongue enough to venture out that she had hoped for an even more intimate act, a joining that was even deeper than what they had done.

 “A deal for such a prize would have to involve all my deepest secrets, my most valuable truths.” He paused, pressing his forehead against the silky inside of her thigh, like a penitent would. “One day, perhaps.”

...

“Do you want to meet? I think it’s time.”

The orgasm had mellowed him out, otherwise he was sure he would’ve at least panicked a little bit. But in the afterglow of what they had just shared, albeit virtually, a meeting did not seem like such a bad idea. In hushed voices they arranged the time and place, tomorrow at a café and bistro in Boston. Nice and public, for both their safety. They knew both lived near Boston, so it seemed natural to pick the city. The drive wasn’t too bad, and he hoped it wasn’t a great inconvenience to her either.

Reluctantly they said their goodbyes, both trying to prolong the moment a bit more till they were both close to nodding off. With a final, reluctant goodbye they both disconnected, leaving Gold to clean himself up and make his way home. With his rumpled suit, disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow it must have looked like the walk of shame. It certainly didn’t feel that way.

...

He woke up in a happy mood, perhaps the best in a long time. Far from feeling stupid or embarrassed about his little bit of roleplaying-turned-porn-session he felt smug, empowered by the notion that he had made a smart, desirable woman come with only his voice and imagination. He felt like he was on the brink of something, as if an exciting possibility was opening up for him. 

He went about his day with a bit of a spring in his step, though most citizens of Storybrooke would be pressed to notice. It was only when he saw the book on gardening he was due to return to the library that afternoon- his two Moth orchids had developed small water-soaked spots on the leaves and he had wanted to consult some verified sources instead of relying exclusively on Google search results- that his mood dampened somewhat. As nice as last night had been- bloody fantastic rather- it did make him sad, somewhat, to give up his crush on Belle French. However unattainable it was still nice to have it, that bit of feeling that did not need to be reciprocated to be real. It had been nice to feel something for someone for a change, to look forward to each smile and each small conversation. But it wouldn’t be right, and what he had now was more valuable in any case. Perhaps, with time, he would grow out of his infatuation with the librarian and they could be friends. That would be rather lovely.

He crossed the street towards the library around three o’clock, wanting to beat the rush caused by children being let off school, a busy time for one of the only kid-friendly places in Storybrooke. There were some patrons about, and the afternoon light made the library look truly beautiful. Miss French truly worked miracles with her limited budget.

He found her easily, shelving a few books in the poetry section, and tried not to preen when she smiled widely at him.

“Mr Gold, hi! Always a pleasure. Here to return a book?”

The librarian was always sunny and welcoming, but she looked even happier that day, an excited sort of energy practically rolling off of her in waves. Thank goodness he had decided to give up on his silly little crush, otherwise he might have buckled under the power of her brightness. 

“Yes. And you look particularly happy today, Miss French, if I might say so.”

The librarian smiled even more, if possible, and leaned close, as if to tell him a secret.

“I have a date tonight.”

It hurt, the slightest bit, the shock making him take a step back, but less than it would have yesterday. And perhaps, he reasoned, this would be good. This would put them both in the path of becoming friends, allowing him to leave his crush behind much faster. He forced himself to enquire politely after the lucky man, listening as she talked about someone she had been flirting with for a long time now, and it seemed like the relationship was finally ready for the next step.

“I’m really happy. And very nervous. It feels like such a risk, after all this time building something that could easily fizzle out with a first date. But I’ve always believed in doing the brave thing, and bravery will follow. It’s what my mother always said.”

She had turned back to shelve a book as she finished the last sentence, so thankfully she did not see his jaw drop and his eyes widen, his surprise so visible no one could’ve missed it. His heart lurched in his chest, sheer and sudden panic making it difficult to breathe. Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t possible. Belle was Beauty. Belle was Beauty. He tried to contradict the notion in his head but he had known Beauty’s British accent was passable but fake, and it made sense for him not to have identified her voice when she usually spoke with her natural Australian drawl, something he associated so closely with her. Everything else he had ever found out about Beauty, in and out of the D&D setting, coincided with what he knew, or thought he knew, about the librarian, one of the reasons why he had developed a crush on her in the first place.

The initial shock was followed by a spike of elation and then a sinking feeling of dread. He needed to cancel. She would be disappointed, but more disappointed if he didn’t and she realised her crush was a man a good deal older than her that was known for being the town monster. It would be awkward and she would not be able to escape him after it, both doomed to meet each other often, given the small size of the town. He could not put her through that.

He stopped himself then, noticing the familiar dark turn of his thoughts, dipped in so much self-loathing it was almost stifling. And he wondered if he really was thinking about Belle or about himself. Being a coward, taking the easy way out. He thought about how he had woken up, the world full of promise and the future bright with the possibility of something great on the horizon. And how he had felt brave last night, to leap into something that had been so worth it. Perhaps it was time to be brave more often. Do something, however small. Put the ball in her court, somehow.

“I wish you the best of luck, then. Perhaps some other time, if you’re not too busy, you could pop into my shop. I have a few antique books I feel you would appreciate.”

It was a nice recovery, and he was happy to see her smile, apparently welcoming the proposition. Everyone knew Mr Gold’s shop was only to be entered when making deals. He didn’t really allow idle perusal of his stock and no one had the money or interest to buy his antiques. His business was conducted mostly with people from major cities on the East Coast.

“Wow, an open invitation to traipse into Mr Gold’s shop, that’s not something one sees everyday. What do you want in return? I hear only deals can grant you access to the shop.”

She made sure to make it clear she was joking, something he appreciated. Feeling emboldened by her kind gesture he adopted a slightly higher pitch and replied:

“Oh, nothing much. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

Being close enough he got to see as it dawned on her, as her brain quickly processed what he had said and where she had heard it before. And he knew, knew because of the way she looked at him, as if she did not recognise him, as if he was a brand new person to her, that she understood the implication, what he had meant to tell her without actually telling her. 

“Hope to see you soon, then. Good luck with the date.”

He turned around before he could second-guess himself, feeling terrified by what he had exposed but satisfied at the same time. This way it was Belle’s choice to show up. For all she knew he had no idea that she was Beauty. She could make up an excuse and simply not meet her, and their worlds would never merge. If she did not want to pursue anything between them all she had to do is cancel the date, or not show up. He would respect her decision and never push for anything, or acknowledge their online relationship in the real world.

He sent her an email just as he was about to get into his car, letting her know that he understood that this meeting was a bit of a risk and he would understand if she backed out at the last minute. There were other things he could do in Boston, and he was not adverse to having dinner by himself. And they could still be friends, no matter what she decided. He was halfway to Boston when he heard his cell phone ping, letting him know he had a new email. As he expected, it was from Beauty:

“I’m on my way. Can’t wait to meet you! See you soon.”

He smiled.

[jabbajambler]

8

Powerless

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC

Word Count: 2,090

*GIF by @babyyodastuff​*

         The bar was vacant except for a few tipsy aliens. Their words slurred together as they spoke and slung their arms around one another. They started to sing some sort of song, but the lyrics were soon lost in the puddle of sounds. It was then nothing more than a hum that drifted in the air.

         Honestly, any sound would've been better than this conversation. Every look in that cruel woman's green eyes made me want to spring across the table with my saber. I was sure Din wouldn't complain too much.

         "Trask is a black market port," Bo Katan leaned against the table with a determined look in her eyes. There was something lying beneath that stare, something she wanted. "They're staging weapons that have been bought and sold with the plunders of our planet. We're seizing those weapons and using them to retake our home world."

         I laughed, choking on my drink as I tried to hold it in. Mandalore? Was she serious? That planet was a wasteland and it was partially her fault. I could feel her cold glare on me before she continued.

         "Once we've done that," her voice was darker now, "we'll seat a new Mandalore on the throne."

          "That planet is cursed," Din spoke with ease as I struggled to hold back my grin. "Anyone who goes there dies. Once the Empire knew they couldn't control it, they made sure no one else could either."

           I shrugged, "with the Empire gone, who knows, but that planet is a wasteland."

         Bo Katan's hungry green eyes focused on mine. "And who exactly are you?"

         My throat felt dry at her mocking question. She held a slight grin on her face as she tilted her head to the side, batting her eyes as though there were no hints of resentment. I still tried to hold my head high despite the feeling of her staring down at me. "I am Myrah Koor," I said, my stomach dropping slightly as I said it, "adopted daughter of Aaryn Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi. I suspect you remember them, don't you?"

          "I do. You don't like me," she rolled her eyes and placed her hands beneath her chin, "why? From what I remember, I helped your family."

         "You betrayed my family," I snapped as the overwhelming anger started to swell in my chest. "You're a cheat and a liar and-"

         Bo Katan scoffed, "don't believe everything you hear." She shrugged me off and turned back to Din whose momentary focus was on me. I could see how my face flushed red and warm in the reflection of his visor.

         "Our enemies want to separate us," her gaze drifted over to me quickly, "but Mandalorians are stronger together"

          I struggled to hold in my fury as the heat consumed my body. I swore one more sly comment and she would have wished she wore the helmet all the time. The gentle brush of leather against my hand distracted me, pulling me from my rage-filled thoughts. Din's hand was quick to pull away from mine before the others had questioned it.

         As if we weren't already as dramatic as possible on the boat. Surely they weren't that naive.

         "That's not part of my plan," Din answered Bo quickly as he turned his gaze to the child who watched the exchange curiously. "I've been quested to return this Child to the Jedi."

         Her eyes flickered between me and the child. "And she wasn't good enough?" she hummed, "what do you know of the Jedi?"

         "Nothing. I was hoping you would help me by Creed."

         Her lips lifted into a small, smug smile as she looked between her other Mandalorian friends, "I can lead you to one of their kind," she spoke quietly, "but first, we need your help on a mission?"

         I scoffed, "what sort of mission do we need to help you with? You three seem to be perfectly capable on your own.'

         "We usually are," she snapped before taking a deep breath and straightening in her seat, "but this is more intense than what we usually deal with on Trask."

          "Let me guess," I leaned forward in my seat with my arms folded on the table, "imperials? I'm shocked you don't feel like betraying the galaxy and go side with them. After all, isn't that what you're good at?"

         Koska, her brunette friend, had to hold her back from lunging at me across the table. Even the slight squeeze on my arm told me to settle down. If I went any further, I was sure to have a knife in my chest or her hands wrapped around my neck until I blacked out. I certainly wasn't going to die at her hands.

          "Yes," Koska finished for Bo Katan as she and their other friend tried to calm her down, "they're imperial and highly guarded. We will provide more details at sunrise. Should we meet here?"

         Din quickly shook his head, "meet at the west docks. We'll rendezvous there in the morning."

         "Right, well," she huffed, "you should probably get going."

         The hand on my arm lifted me from my seat before I could fit in another snarky remark. I couldn't even shout anything on my way out because we were out in a flash. I almost thought Din forgot the kid with the way he tugged me out of the building.

       "What were you thinking?" he snapped once we reached the cool, night air.

        I shrugged, "I was thinking that she was a traitor to her family and mine. Listen, she carries a long history with her, one that I'm not too fond of. Let's leave it at that."

         "Fine."

        The docks were so empty at night. Or was it morning? It felt like we had accompanied Clan Kryze for ages. Each stare was full of threats, maybe even promises, of destruction. Bo Katan knew the weight of her words and how they would carry with Din. She knew that the child was everything to us and if she could use us to her benefit, she would.

       It wasn't like it would cause her any grief. She'd done it many times before. To her, people who suffered from strong emotions were simply pawns in her game. As though we deserved to suffer from loving something so much.

         The child, I mean.

         My family must be under some sort of Kryze-Curse where we are forced to do their bidding. I wish I could break it. I would like to be the last sort-of-Kenobi to suffer by their hands.

        The air smelled like fish. Dead fish. It was absolutely horrid yet the child couldn't get enough. He smiled sleepily as he breathed in the air. The moon lit up the dark sky and reflected across the vast ocean. The light rippled across the waves so perfectly, I almost thought it was a dream.

         As we journeyed towards the Razor Crest, the wood creaked. Every single step was followed by a small sound of it bending beneath our boots.

         Step.

              Creak.

                   Step

                          Creak.

         The monotonous sound was followed by the slight splash of the waves against the wood. It felt like the dock was moving with the water. Honestly, it probably was. Who knew how far down the posts went and the planet was almost entirely ocean. It wasn't such a far-fetched idea.

         We no longer had to await the painfully slow door of the Razor Crest thanks to the gaping hole that took its place. In some ways, it was nice. Still, a part of me worried about being robbed in our sleep. That is, if we had any valuables left.

         "We could get a motel room if you want," Din's gentle voice floated through the air. He sounded shy, almost ashamed of the state the ship was in.

         "No," I gave him a weary smile, "we'll just be careful. There may be more weird aliens out to kill us."

        He breathed out a huff of air, a quiet laugh if you could even call it that, and shook his head. "Right. As if you can't handle that."

         "If I can't, I know I have you right beside me," I held the child close to my chest as I sat on the edge of the cot. At least one thing was still intact. My eyes drifted to the small hammock above me as the child reached for it. His brown eyes were wide and his lips trembled as he struggled to grab it. I breathed out a soft chuckle and lifted him into it, pulling a small blanket over his body.

         He couldn't speak, I knew that. Or, at least he hadn't done so yet, but I felt gratefulness swarm my mind as though he was communicating subconsciously.

         "Go ahead and sleep," Din cut through the child and I's silent moment, "I'll keep watch."

         Of course, ever the gentleman. Or he still didn't trust me. I assumed it was the latter, but I wouldn't say anything. I didn't need to incite another argument, let alone bring up any questions about what happened today. Sure, he knew my history as a force-user but I didn't need any more questions. As far as he knew, I could move things with my mind, heal people, and had a 'laser sword.' That was enough for now.

          "Alright," I agreed with a friendly smile, "but I expect you to wake me up as soon as you're tired-" he started to speak before I started up again, "and you're taking the cot as soon as it's my turn. You can't get out of this one either. I'm not letting you sleep on the floor or in your chair."

         Din stood silent for a moment. His brain was undoubtedly searching for some excuse to avoid a somewhat decent night's sleep. Eventually, his head fell down with the chin of his helmet resting against his chest plate. A long, exhausted sigh escaped him, followed by a quiet, reluctant, "fine."

          "Wait, really?" My eyes grew wide as his simple agreement. He was never one to easily follow anything unless it was his idea, especially so quickly. I felt a short laugh bubble out of my chest, "have I finally tamed the wild Mandalorian?"

         "Stop," he grumbled.

          I held back my laughs as I stood up and circled him, "next up, we see a rogue Mandalorian, broken away from his pack. At first, he seems untamable. He's unable to be captured, but then! A Jedi? She's caught him, fed him, shown him all the true joys in life! Now, he has no choice but to become a domesticated Mandalorian, politely obeying every word the Jedi says-"

         His hand closed over my mouth, his other arm wrapped around my back to pull me near. "Not another word," he spoke quietly.

         "Apparently not as well trained as I thought. Maybe we need to teach him some manners," I winked and pushed his hand away from my mouth. My nose scrunched up in disgust, "and how to clean his clothes. Those smell rotten."

         "Well, I did fall in the ocean," he stated simply and pulled his arms back to his side.

         I snickered and sat back in the cot, pushing myself towards the back wall, "it's a good thing someone was there to save you, then. Must've been some beautiful, strong woman, right?"

         "Yeah," his voice came out breathy, but quickly went back into his regular, stiff tone, "too bad she's annoying."

         My jaw fell slightly, leaving my mouth gaping as I stared at him. A joke? A funny one too. I laughed and fell back in the bed. My head hit the thin pillow, bouncing slightly against the mattress. "Whatever," I rolled my eyes with a wide smile on my face, "just make sure you wake me up, okay?"

         I could hear a small hum in agreement as I shut my eyes. For the first week in Coruscant I was terrified to fall asleep. New places used to always scare me and I never showed my face before I was alongside Din. Now, I was safe. Everywhere I go, I know there is someone to protect me.

           Instead of succumbing to the aching pains of sleep like I used to, I drifted off easily with a smile on my face. I knew, no matter what happened between us, he wouldn't let anything get to me.

taglist:

@emiijemii​

[cyraen-ae]

I’m slightly late for this week’s Hero Appreciation Day, but here are a few fun facts about the Varsen siblings in my Mechquest and Dragonfable game! Maybe at some point I’ll talk more about their AdventureQuest and AQW versions, but for now these are my favorites.

About their parents :

The Varsen father is called Aryn Varsen. He was a chronomancer who one day disappeared after an experiment gone wrong. His children don’t know whether he survived or not, but this left them apprehensive of chronomancy, despite being taught about it

The Varsen mother is called Leera Varsen, although it was a new name she adopted to hide. She was a refugee from a more controlling kingdom (the Thenastrin Imperium in Mechquest, the Magesterium in Dragonfable. Dunno about the other two games). Pre-Reset, she was a skilled engineer with intimate knowledge on melding magic and technology. Post-Reset, she kept those skills, becoming an artificer of sorts.

Leera suffered from intense paranoia and fear that people would betray her and sell her position to the kingdom she fled from. After her husband disappeared, she became certain that his disappearance was caused by those she was fleeing and went into hiding with her two child.

Thallen and Aleena spent most of their childhood without any social interactions as a result, only leaving the home once they were old enough to do so.

Aleena, being as hot headed as she is, left the home much earlier.

Mechquest facts :

Aleena loves listening to music when piloting her mecha. She modded her mecha’s cockpit to play music full volume to get her pumped up.

She’s also quite the good dancer as a result, as well as actually playing the electric guitar.

(this is in reference to me playing music whenever playing Mechquest due to its lack of prominent soundtrack)

As briefly mentioned in a previous post’s tags, Aleena is the Hero of Soluna in my playthrough.

Considering this, it means that the game starts in Thallen’s second year at GEARS.

While Aleena is the one in the frontlines doing all of the playable missions, Thallen isn’t just hanging back in Soluna.

During the war, he usually acted as mission control for Aleena. He’d stay in their ship orbiting the planet, or in a nearby area on the planet, and assist Aleena.

In most quests where the player gets message from the questgiver, in my version of it Thallen would be with them and chime in.

He also fixes Aleena’s mechs after the fights.

Additionally, Thallen picked up a bit of first aid from Nurse Helia so that he can patch up his sister whenever she narrowly misses an ejection because she got too confident.

He’s done the “if you die out there I’m coming into the afterlife just to chew you out for this!” type of trope to his sister over the comms quite a few time whenever she did something especially reckless.

aThallen and Aleena take house pride seriously and have a friendly rivalry going on. 

I could 100% see Thallen as a questgiver in GEARS hanging out and giving the player quests to help him get components for his latest mech design, which would then be offered as a shop after the quest.

Perhaps I’ll commission art following that Dragonfable trend a while back of drawing OCs as NPCs for that at some point in the future

Dragonfable facts :

Thallen’s scarf bandana thing is soulwoven. It also has a small bird sigil embroidered on it that, while blue by default, will sometimes change colors to fit his mood (a canon feature of soulwoven cloth that I feel should be used more often because it sounds fun!) 

It also used to belong to his mother, the embroidered bird being the symbol of the enchanter’s guild where she once worked before leaving. 

For a while after getting Dragonlord customization, Thallen wore the crop-top renegade armor because I was like why not. Therefore I headcanon him as completely the sort of person who would casually wear a crop top.

Post-Reset, Thallen still has very vague memories of the Mechquest timeline, although they feel barely tangible and dreamlike. He will often get pangs of melancholy and solitude whenever something unconsciously reminds him of his after-work hours spent with Tek, who he hasn’t found post-Reset.

Tek actually appeared in Thallen’s version of the Aspenvale Academy dream sequence, in which she faced many disappearance glitches similar to Tomix. Thallen has been trying to understand and remember who this pink-haired woman was as a result, leaving him deeply perturbed.

Thallen is very involved in the Vind, being a member of the rebellion to an official level.

Meanwhile Aleena, while she assists the Vind during some missions, remains too withdrawn and hard to contact to be considered as a member of the Vind.

The only time Aleena has been actively helping in any scenario rather than appearing and disappearing in hit-and-run tactics is during the Proclamation War.

In there, Aleena has been bodyguarding the Golden Hand. Not out of care for them, but rather so she can keep an eye on them as she does not especially trust them.

And also so she can push them to be faster to limit the damage caused by the rifts.

She also frequently voices her distrust of the Rose during it.

She still limits interactions and keeps her helmet up during the whole war, so as to not break her Brass Angel vigilante persona.

I’ve been in a very Mechquest mood as of late, replaying through the whole game on Aleena, so as a result my mind was more on Mechquest facts. This could change by next week, we’ll see. 

I’d have put more facts on their chronomancy, but I’ve already talked a bit about it in another post today

I’m thinking of writing up a timeline of events for the Varsen siblings going through the events of Dragonfable (and maybe one for MQ) and how it affected them personally, it’ll probably be made up for next week’s Hero Appreciation Day

[idjitlili]

Imagine asking Thorin to braid your hair like legolas’ which he does.surprise, Surprise, Surprise .

Extra information:Kili , fili, nor Thorin die in the five armies.

Word count:2071

You had been friends with legolas ever since you literally fell into Mirkwood. Legolas was suspicious of you for a while but then warmed up to you, he even convinced his Thranduil to let you stay in Mirkwood.

Thranduil brought Elrond to see you, to see if you were telling the truth. As Elrond is a magically elf or something legolas had told you. Thranduil didn’t really like you , but the same as legolas he warmed up to you it just took a lot longer. He sympathised you, Losing your whole life , and family ending up in a stranger world with elves dwarves and hobbits.

You lived with Thranduil and Legolas for over a five at this point, in which surprisingly Thranduil became very protective of you. So when you had been walking near the river , and thirteen dwarves , and hobbit had been rushing by. Along with Orcs , you were more than shocked. In which you had snuck out passed river gate to go sit somewhere alone. You knew Thranduil was going to be mad. Damn Thranduil was your dad.

Even more shocked when something hit you in side , making you fall sideways into the the river. You heard someone calling your name , sounding like legolas, you glance up while you are falling to see legolas running after you fighting orcs.

Your mouth gaps open, “legolas.” You almost whisper. You expect to hit the water with a smack, but instead you are caught by strong arms. Damn what are the chances , that you fell as a barrel went past exactly when you fell into for them.

You do be in a romance move, now who was your prince. Little did you know he wasn’t a prince..

You turn to see a long haired man, oh right he was a dwarf. He was very good looking, you look into his ocean blue eyes with your e/c ones. “T-thank you.” You stutter our to your James Franco. He looked like one of those guys , that acted tough , but were really were so sweet.

He gives you a small smile, placing you in the small barrel, that was very tight for two people. You look around to see the orcs fading away, and Legolas looking towards you, you give him a wave , before he disappears as you turn around a corner. Thorin notices your gesture, deciding to speak up now.

“How do you know the elven prince?” He questions you with a rough voice, damn sexy.

You are startled by his voice , “uh , I have been living with him and Thranduil , since they found me in the forest.” He looks at you processing your words slowly.

“What were you doing in Mirkwood?”

“You won’t believe me.” You tried to avoid the question.

“Try me.” He looks at you intensely.

“Uh well I was in my kitchen making mash potatoes when I tripped over my dog , and felling into Mirkwood forest , when a weird line thing appeared on the floor.” His face unreadable.

“Yeah that is bloody crazy, we shall take you to Gandalf, but for now you should come with us, going back alone is dangerous “ he spoke as you approach the shore.

“Who is Gandalf?” You didn’t mind going with them, you had done nothing really in Mirkwood except read , draw , eat watch Thranduil sass everyone. This quest, mission, thang seemed like fun, so you didn’t even question it.

“He is a wizard,” you nod understanding.

Throughout the travel to Erebor Thorin made sure to keep you safe, he knew Thranduil allowing you stay with him and his son was beyond impossible. Plus he saw legolas looking at you when, when he caught you, he knew he would tell Thranduil. Knowing his he knew if something was to happen to you he would probably be slaughtered.

When you reached Erebor, Thranduil and Bard trying to settle what Thorin promised. You stood next to Thorin, Thranduil saw you straight away with his elf eyes.

“Y/n?” He called out, you waved back eagerly.

“ADA! Thorin says I can stay with him for a while.” You smile, that was the first time you had called Thranduil , your father , it made his heart swell with love. But he was angered at the thought of you living with dwarves. Thorin liked you, it was better because you weren’t a elf and that it annoyed Thranduil you staying with his kin.

After the battle , which had joined in because you felt like something bad was to happen. Of course it would you idjit people are trying to kill each other it’s a war. Dumbass. Which you had saved all three of the Durins line. Thranduil had quickly rushed to you , to make you come home with him.

“Please let me stay, I am an adult , I just want to stay for a while to see what it’s like here.” You beg, frowning.

“Y/n , Mirkwood is your home, me and legolas love you.” He pleads , grasping your hands.

“I know , as do I but I must I really want to see what life is like here , I will write and visit , and it will just be for a couple of months. Also forgot to mention ,this is far fetched to believe a nice ginger women called rowena kidnapped you ,and told thranduil if he got a certain spell book she would set you free. And give you more years in life , and slow down ageing. (This allowed you in to live through lotr yes babe) it was crazy , but this women loved her son and needed to save him.

You eventually convinced Thranduil to let you stay, and hugged him goodbye. You entered , “ I guess I am staying boys!” You exclaimed throwing your arms up , receiving cheers from the other dwarves.

Kili and Fili liked you very much, they included you in many of their pranks , for example: You guys stole Bofurs hat while he was sleeping putting it into the oven. He spent three hours looking for it, he wasn’t pleased , lucky the oven wasn’t lit. Uh , kili also shaved off Bofurs eyebrows , that didn’t go done well either. He tried hiding it with his hat, it looked terrible.

Thorin wasn’t happy with this especially , when you pretended to be injured , he came running , when hearing you shout.

He clutched your hand in distress begging for you to wake up, only for kili and fili to whacked him in the face with a cream pie. You had bust out with laughter , he wiped the cream from his eyes looking doing at you smirking.

He wiped the cream onto your face, his hands running done to your sides , tickling you. You couldn’t breathe. “T-Thorin p-lease.AHH.” You tried to reason with him the best you could , but it was no use. your cheeks hurting from laughing so wide, your throat dry, sides aching.

You reached your hand up to Thorins face getting cream on it, you tried to eat it off your hand with out choking. You bust out coughing , Thorin stopped, sitting you rubbing you back, at this point Fili and kili has left minutes ago. As they wanted to talk secretly about Thorin not being an ass.

“Are you okay?” He asked you with a cream covered face.

You stopped coughing, looking him in the eye “damn are you okay? You look a bit pale. DAMN you are a elf.” His smile , disappeared , in which his hands reached for your sides again. “You done it now .” He smirked , and he attacked you again.

After this attack , he help you up , and you led him to the sink, that was five steps away because you were in the kitchen. You used a sponge to wipe all the cream off. His face wet, eyes scrunched up , so no water could get in them. He was finally able to be happy after getting revenge and reclaiming his home and finding a nice girl/

You used a cloth to dry his face , dabbing it gently, unknowingly to you , Fili and kili came back watching in awe. Secretly obviously.

Now that brings you today you sat in your bed with a small mirror between in your legs In your chambers, trying to sort your hair like legolas used to do it. The same as his . There was three gently knocks at your door, you had told them to come in.

The door opened to reveal. Thorin , with a box, it wasn’t rare for Thorin to gift you with things. You just thought he was being friendly, but little did you know. He was attempting to court you. He stepped in with a gently smile, he looked you up and down.

Your cheeks flashed with red, you wore a tunic and underwear (or shorts whatever I know they didn’t have underwear.) , as you wore them to bed. But you were struggling with your hair otherwise you would’ve been dressed a long time ago.

“ are you okay?” Thorin spoke with a small smile.

“Uh I am just struggling doing my hair today, otherwise I would’ve been up already.” You were embarrassed for the king to see you like his.

“Would you like some help?” He walked slowly closer towards you, placing the box on the end of your bed.

“ would you help me? Your hair looks majestic all the time.” Thorins cheeks spike with a small dash of pink.he nods his head.

“Thank you, may I ?” He gestures the space behind you on your bed, you nod with approvement., you pass him your brush, which he had also gifted you. Damn he’s a king he can do what he likes.

He sits , gently brushing your tangled soft h/c hair. You didn’t know about dwarven courting rituals , well you knew nothing about any other than modern day ones.

“ how do you want your hair ?”

“Uh.. like legolas’ , I get if you don’t want to, he used to do my hair for me..” you frown , it was easy when you had an elf doing your hair everyday.

“I will, you will have to remind me on how he does.” Which you do , allowing him to get to work, with his thick fingers gently pulling and gliding in your hair. It was relaxing to say the least. Damn it was scary to think he could kill you , yet he treats you like glass.

His fingers soon pull away from your hair, and he softly mutters ‘done’. You pick up your Mirrow looking at his work, your eyes lite up with joy, he was very skilled with his fingers. Could you imagine you quickly dismiss your dirty thoughts. You turn around hugging him tightly, after a minute you pull away smiling at him. “ thank you.” He stands you walking to where he put the box , he picks it up looking at you.

“ y/n , these last couple of months I have been trying to tell you something, I am just going to say it... I would really like to court you, I have brought you something, if you would accept, I would you wear it to dinner with me tonight.” He looks down at his feet breathlessly and frankly scared.

You stand up walking towards him , lifting the lid to the box to reveal a navy blue blue velvet dress. You gasp,bringing your

Fingers to feel the material, it was beautiful, damn that must of been expensive. You quickly use that hand to lift up Thorins chin, leaning over the box you press a kiss to Thorins lips. He smiles widely at you. “ I accept,is that why you have be so many gifts?” He nods his head still grinning.

“I would accept even without all the gifts , I knew when my you caught me, I do be living in a romance novel.” He chuckled at you, placing the box down again , wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you close. Pressing a kiss to your lips , this time very passionately.

That night you write a letter to Thranduil and legolas , about your news. You knew Thranduil gonna be shaking , and not his ass.

A/n I finally managed to do my hair like legolas by myself for the first time. I am so happy.(yeah that pic is my hair)

[tildehummingbird]

Spoiler about Catherine and the Soul Riding

(I posted this over at sso forums, so if you see a thread like this there, it's me hehe)

So, I've done the Catherine Quests and I've completed them and as a lot of other people, I was mad. 

I mean, I had so many questions: If Aideen is in everyone, and destiny doesn't matter, then what's the need for Soul Riders, if anyone can do it? Destiny and being the "chosen one" is the whole entire concept of this game, and changing the route NOW, or at ALL doesn't make any sense, and they're probably gonna lose a lot of players that are interested in lore because this doesn't make any sense. Then what's even the need for a 5th rider? What's even the need for this game at all, if a 5th rider isn't needed then just follow the storyline in Starshine Legacy and don't add the 5th rider. If anyone can do it and if Aideen is in everyone, then explain why we're the only ones in this whole entire generation that can handle all powers at once, why can't any of the other riders in Jorvik? Why was Elizabeth so surprised that we could in fact use all powers? What was the need for the beginning cutscene? It literally told us "In times of despair, a sisterhood of Soul Riders will ride forth to protect the island from the evil that seeks to rip the world apart. It is foretold that a sisterhood led by a heroic and fearless girl will appear on horseback to bring hope and light back to those who believe that all is lost... Are you that girl?" I don't know dude, it doesn't even matter if I am because apparently anyone can be that girl, so who cares if I am? Then why were we able to literally fly on our horse? Why would Fripp be so adamant about our protection to the point of where he put his own life on the line, just so we could be protected? The message of "anyone can be a hero" is great, however that's not the point of this story and it never has been.

All these questions and no answers, so I thought we could theorize a bit so that, together, we could try to understand a bit more about this and understand what even happened, what it means and where it is going.

I was checking the star stable tag on Tumblr, and I saw a post by @sso-emberwood that pointed out a lot about Catherine: She didn't even want to be Aideen at all, all she wanted was a normal life with Thomas and her baby, to be free from this prophecy and these duties. Not only that, but The Keepers of Aideen aren't exactly the most telling bunch, so she would know as much as we do: nothing. She wasn't a fan of the prophecy thing, she wasn't a fan of being the only one who's special and different, and she rejected the whole idea, so it would make sense as to why she'd project that onto us, too. Not only that, we saw that she lost her horse, and therefore "half a soul", as Linda described it so maybe she really doesn't get it anymore.

Either that, or maybe we perceived what she said wrong. I went back to check on what she said, so I'll write it here: "We needn't wait for Aideen's return. The goddess is reborn with every horse and rider who open their hearts and form a true bond. Aideen's gift is love. She's been with us all along. In me. In you. At least that is what I believe."

So, to start off, I think that last part is very important. That's what she belives - referring back to what we know is fact: she didn't like the prophecy, and she wanted to define her own destiny and not be controlled by it - so it would make sense for her and her character that she'd have these beliefs. To her, all you need is Aideen's love because Aideen's gift lives in everyone. Now, it is true that Aideen's Gift lives in everyone because Aideen's gift IS for everyone in the island of Jorvik, and I even have Rhiannon dialogue to prove that the Keepers of Aideen agree on this too. This bit of text is from one of the Soul Riding quests, where Rhiannon takes us to South Hoof:

"Have you ever noticed there's something different to the nature of Jorvik? The grass is greener, the birdsong sweeter. But most importantly, the horses are happy and free. They have all this land to roam, and we Jorvegians share this land with them. This connects us to horses on a deeper level. The other Druids put so much focus on the Soul Riders, Guardian Horses, Aideen herself....but they forget to see the magic that's right before their eyes. The magic of Aideen's gift." At this point, you're given two choices: either "I already know that." or "That's what they all say." Regardless, she'll say "Is that so? You've probably heard folk talk about it as if it's some kind of friendship between horse and human. But it's so much more than that. It's what pulled me to travel up North to care for magical horses. It's what makes Nix so special to me. It's even why I'm a Wild Whisperer...On Jorvik, our deep bond with horses is magical. You've been training exceptionally well. During this time, the bond you have developed with [horse name] has flurished. But you haven't just strengthened the bond between both of you. You've connected to the nature of Jorvik on a deeper level, and with that have honed a magical link to all the horses in this island. Close your eyes, and listen to the sound around us. Can you feel how everything is connected?", yet again you can choose between "Yes, it's magical." and "Uh...no." she'll say "You clearly have an affinity for this. I'm impressed. Sometimes, if you focus clearly, you may notice a spark of something powerful. That's the presence of a wild horse. It's one of the ways we Wild Wardens sense they're nearby and ensure their safety. So now you know. Aideen's Gift ties us to all the horses on Jorvik, and it is something to treasure. You can use this knowledge to improve your riding skills. Pay close attention to your horse, and the horses around you, and you will find harmony. This is what I wanted to share with you weeks ago, but I thought you weren't ready to understand. However, I was wrong. Your dedication to Soul Riding has proven just how much you care for the horses on this island. I'm proud of you, [player name]. Thank you for helping protect the horses on Jorvik."

Aideen's Gift is what makes you have such a good connection with horses and it is what makes Jorvik's people and horses special - however, that's certainly not enough to lead Soul Riders into battle. Love isn't enough to defeat Garnok - you need to be chosen for it and destiny DOES matter, no one else has any power in any circle, only the people who are born specifically to have it. However, Catherine is right, but I'm not exactly sure that she understands that that's not why we are unique and that's not what makes us fit for battle instead of literally anyone else - we're unique and the reason as to why we're the only ones who should be able to go into battle is because we don't just have Aideen's Gift like everyone else - we are Aideen. Catherine is Aideen too, we are her and she is us. Cause all of the reeincarnations of Aideen are the same thing, different body. Us and the Soul Riders don't just have Aideen's Gift, we were reincarnated to be her and the soul riders were reincarnated to be what they are today.  Catherine very visibly rejected and left behind her duties and gave up being a soul rider after she lost her horse - she completely rejected even looking for a reeincarnation of it like we did with Anne - but when she did, we were born, because Catherine gave up which meant that another reeincarnation was needed, because it needs to be Aideen herself, not just someone who has the gift - she kept the gift, but she no longer had what it takes to be that girl, and didn't want to either, so someone who did was born.

And again, the Druids make it very clear that their mission, and their end goal is he rebirth of Aideen. A couple of days ago I got a lore book from the Soul Riding missions called "Druids and Horses: A Partnership" that said this: "Aideen's Gift enables druids to continue to protect Jorvik, feel spiritually closer to the land, and ultimately fulfill their mythical goal of the rebirth of Aideen" and  "[...] a network of spiritual people whose sole mission is to protect Jorvik through ensuring the return of the goddess Aideen." 

Which means they acknowledge that they're waiting for a specific someone to be born, so that that specific someone can lead the sisterhood into battle, when the final battle comes, which means that they acknowledge that it can't just be anyone. Waiting for someone special is the whole point of the Keepers of Aideen - they are literally called Keepers of Aideen, no Aideen reborn, no Keepers of Aideen.

Also, in the mission "Strenght in Numbers" with Rhiannon in the Soul Riding, she said that what made her leave Jorvik was that she saw a hooded figure in the forest, and it felt like it was draining the life out of her and her horse, so she left because she was afraid, but she came back upon Elizabeth's request for help, and she when she saw how much closer the Keepers of Aideen were, she decided to stay, but after she says she says: "What really opened my eyes was you, [player name]. Your dedication, skill, and sheer talent has given me faith in Aideen's Light that I haven't felt for a while." Everyone has something like this to tell us, I think there's a reason for that. One of the most important ones so far was for example, when Darko was able to enter the Stone Ring, threatening to destroy the keystone, and Fripp says: "I would sooner destroy the keystone than let you take [player name]. She is more important than you imagine..."

The reason as to why I choose to share the Rhiannon one is because it is recent, just like Catherine's memories which means the story and the objective remains the same, with the only difference that we know Catherine's perspective and why she failed and why the sisterhood fell apart, which will be important in the future, because if you don't remember, the dark riders are trying to recruit Nihili (previously known as Elise) who is the 4th Dark Rider. So far, we've only seen her horse but what we do know about her is that she has the ability to cause discord within the Dark Riders, but I'd imagine she'd have influence on us, as well, and that's why she'd probably be recruited. The Dark Riders know that the previous sisterhood failed due to discord and fights within the group, so it wouldn't be surprising that they'd try to make that happen yet again.

Apart from all of this, I simply don't think Catherine knows enough about this whole thing to be the one to reveal it to us, and I also think the "big reveal" was anticlimatic and not well done, at least in my eyes, because *assuming* this is the route they're going with...eh? What? Why was it so...dry?

Also, if you go back to the very first news post on Catherine's diary, it says "This chapter of the Soul Rider story arc is a standalone quest and is not mandatory to complete in order to play future quests with the Soul Riders." and if they were to add SUCH an important reveal then it wouldn't be a something you could choose not to do, it would be a mandatory, integral part of the story -  this seems like very important information, right? If we don't do this quest, and just move on then in the world and in a story sense, MC wouldn't know that there's technically no Aideen to look for. It doesn't make sense if this is really what they're going to do...Unless it's not and this is just Catherine's opinions on the matter.

Overall, I'm just not a believer yet - I still think this is just Catherine's thoughts. As @sso-emberwood said, the only one who could actually tell us anything for sure is Fripp. He knows way more than everyone in the Keepers of Aideen. But he's sick still, and has been since 2017 the poor guy. I don't think we should assume anything yet, and I certainly don't think the game has changed directions. If it did, I'll be honest with yall - my interest would not be the same and I think it would be that way for a lot people as well and I think that's fair. You can't just come in and suddenly change the route of something that has been hinted at and is supposed to be the point of the game, it just doesn't make any sense. If so, then there's no need for this game or for a 5th rider.

[thebrokenblackman]

KRS-One - “Ah Yeah!”  Critical Analysis by Hakeem Ture

“If hip hop has the power to corrupt young minds, it also has the ability to uplift them.” - KRS-One 

The musician is a natural master of vibration and emotion. Many musicians have been able to make us dance. Many have been able to draw on relatability because nobody is the only person like them in the world. Perhaps some have even made us cry or provided soundtracks for intimate moments. Only few musicians have taken on the task of socially and historically educating their listeners through their music. 

Even fewer have been able to combine the mastery of teaching with mastery of rhythm. Those who do this become legends like; Nate King Cole, B.B. King, Nina Simone, Bob Marley, Chaka Khan and Fela Kuti’ and their influence lives throughout generations. In 1995 Krs-One released a self-titled album that came in the sunset of his reign. His career would mirror the sepia filter of the album cover. 

This album had dominant auras of militancy and rebellion that Krs-One fans had not heard since Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded. Krs-One was able to both appease his day one fans and gain the younger generation of Hip Hoppers who were listening to artists such as: Nas, Redman,Das Efx, Tupac, and A Tribe Called Quest. The message and timing of this album may have been divine. Let us look at the historical events of the year(s) Krs-One was creating this album in. In 1994, the United States congress had successfully completed the first step of becoming fascist by Voting to Censure Dr. Khalid Muhammad, National Advisor of the Nation of Islam. Bill Clinton and Joe Biden led Democrats to pass the The Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act and effectively fueled the prison industrial complex. South Africa held it first election since intergrating with the apartheid government and Invisble Man author Ralph Ellison had passed. Hip Hop was the soul vehicle of expression to protest the genocide that had been going on and KRS One was one of its leaders. The youth looked toward this leader to deliver an album reflective of their mindstate and he delivered. 

Imperative of a classic work of musical art, this album is composed of multiple great songs, but in my opinion the cornerstone song of the album is undeniably “Ah Yeah”. In this song he masterfully uses three 16 bar verses to empower and mobilize his listener much in the same way Dr. Khalid Muhammad did. This track starts with the establishment of an a capella warcry. He writes in response to western power’s having done such an incredible job destroying the rebel instinct that Afrikan people possess by publicly shaming our leaders and traditions. These lyrics are him trying to raise the psyche of a fallen warrior class and put revolt back in its holy place as opposed to the negative connotation that has been applied by the white power structure.  He essentially made a chant-like hook with an underlying message of “This is your enemy, This is how to handle him, and THIS is okay”. The aim focuses on  redirecting the accumulated anger of a traduced peoples that is often mistargeted toward self so that we may be collectively progresssive. 

He bellows:

“Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you see a devil down

Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you take the devil's crown

Ah yeah, stay alive all things will change around

Ah yeah, what? Ah yeah!”

Then comes the establishment of an eerie bass line. This song structure is familiar to fans of his earlier work. It was what they were longing for. For a few albums he took the perspective of being in the classroom or office as opposed to in the battlefield with his men. He had returned to fight with us like Haile Selassie. Immediately he establishes a dual level of respect. One with his men and one with his deterrent.  

“So here I go kickin' science in ninety-five

I be illin', parental discretion is advised still

Don't call me nigga, this MC goes for his

Call me God, cause that's what the black man is

Roamin' through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist

Black women you are not a bitch you're a Goddess

Let it be known, you can lean on KRS-One

Like a wall cause I'm hard, I represent God”

In the first 2 bars of the preceding excerption he lets us know he intends to drop some knowledge, but it will not be filtered for political correctness or comfortability. The following 2 bars he establishes both a tone of encounterment and identity. Then he goes on to explain from which direction he came much like Saint Maurice's appearance upon the plagued people of Europe to let them know he has navigated and he is no spook. He goes on to talk to his listener and the most important of them, the women.

In 1994, fresh off a press tour on which she gained popularity from criticizing Bill Clinton, Sister Souljah published her first book that was heralded by black scholars and youth alike entitled No Disrespect. Her Influence was cemented in the minds of black youth and played a huge role in raising generational consciousness by dealing with topics like “how the black woman is viewed by black men” and “the black woman’s role in repairing the black family structure”. She had solely been awarded leadership duties by a disregarded demographic in a scapegoated culture and was handling it with the grace of Misty Copeland.  Her and the women she raised to consciousness needed the camaraderie of Krs One. He goes on to sell to himself:

 “Wack MC's have one style: gun buck

But when you say, "Let's buck for revolution"

They shut the fuck up, can't get with it

Down to start a riot in a minute

You'll hear so many Bowe-Bowe-Bowe, you think I'm Riddick

While other MC's are talkin' bout up with hope down with dope

I'll have a devil in my infrared scope,”

In the first five bars he addresses the enemies of the oppressed people within the oppressed people. These “Wack MC’s” are the Uncle Toms’ and Judas of the rebellious, afro-centric movement that is Hip-Hop. He says they lack discipline and do not have the self awareness to rescue themselves. In comparison with himself who uses that energy toward an ultimate goal, Independence through revolution. In the succeeding excerption KRS briefly displays the cognitive processing and coping mechanism of a warrior:

“WOY

That's for calling my father a boy and, klak, klak, klak

That's for putting scars on my mother's back, BO

That's for calling my sister a ho, and for you

Buck, buck, buck  cause I don't give a motherfuck

Remember the whip, remember the chant

Remember the rope and

You black people still thinkin' about voting?

Every President we ever had lied!

You know, I'm kinda glad Nixon died.”

Throughout the preceding excerption KRS skillfully uses onomatopoeias to create a setting for his listener. There is a battle going on. Shells casings are falling to the ground and bullets are flying from high caliber weapons. He is in the thick of it and then an enemy approaches him. He musters the courage to engage with his assailant by remembering the suffrage the morals of his enemies’ elected nation-state has caused his ancestors. Then he rejoices in the death of one of their leaders, Richard Nixon.

In the second verse Krs-One addresses an age-old topic of discussion for spiritual people that was brought forth to the Afrikans of today by Noble Drew Ali, “The Prophetic Soul”. This belief dates back to ancient Buddhism in the caves of Asia taught to us by Dr. Ivan Van Sertima in his book “African Presence in Early Asia”. This belief entails that all the prophets of the world including but not limted to; Adam, Jesus, Buddha, Muhammad, and himself were the same soul being reborn until its mission is completed.” Krs-One puts himself and a couple others in this divine line of being. 

“This is not the first time I came to the planet

 concern every time I come, only a few could understand it

I came as Isis, my words they tried to ban it

I came as Moses, they couldn't follow my Commandments

I came as Solomon, to a people that was lost

I came as Jesus, but they nailed me to a cross

I came as Harriet Tubman, I put the truth to Sojourner

Other times, I had to come as Nat Turner

They tried to burn me, lynch me and starve me

So I had to come back as Marcus Garvey, Bob Marley

They tried to harm me, I used to be Malcolm X

Now I'm on the planet as the one called KRS

Kickin' the metaphysical, spiritual, tryin' to like

Get with you, showin' you, you are invincible

The Black Panther is the black answer for real

In my spiritual form, I turn into Bobby Seale

On the wheels of steel, my spirit flies away

And enters into Kwame Ture”

In the beginning of the third verse he briefly continues the theme of possessing The Prophetic Soul but now, he does not speak from a perspective of being the people who had the soul. He speaks from the perspective of the soul. This soul is traveling and looking for a host. In the first two bars he speaks of how he was able to travel without detection from the government’s surveillance. Then, he goes on to finally choose a host that is relevant to the demographic of people it intends to reach. This host is stylish and his image is relatable, so the people will be receptive of his message through familiarity. 

“In the streets there is no EQ, no di-do-di-do-di-do

So I grab the air and speak through the code

The devil cannot see through as I unload

Into another cerebellum

Then I can tell em, because my vibes go through denim

And leather whatever, however, I'm still rockin”

After the prophetic soul latches on to the host, KRS-One, it manifests purpose with grassroot organization and motivational speaking. Being KRS-One founded the Stop the Violence Movement in 1988 and was solely responsible for mobilizing many of the most influential Hip Hoppers against Gang Violence and Culture he had plenty of knowledge to give on the topic.

“We used to pick cotton, now we pick up cotton when we shoppin'

Have you forgotten why we buildin' in a cypher

Yo hear me kid, government is building in a pyramid

The son of God is brighter than the son of man

The spirit is, check your dollar bill G, here it is

We got no time for fancy mathematics

Your mental frequency frequently pickin' up static

Makin' you a naked body, addict and it's democratic

They press auto, and you kill it with an automatic”

Too often credit for the creation and establishment of a culture or society is given to one person as opposed to being evenly distributed amongst the support structure. How many times have you been taught the legacy of all the men that signed the declaration of independence? It is likely that you’ve only been taught about Thomos Jefferson. Just like there would be no Fidel Castro without the parallel influences of Che Guevara and Camilo Ceinfuegos there would be no Hip-Hop without KRS ONE. Perhaps without his tenacity, passion, and will it would have been infiltrated and exploited before it reached its full maturity. If that would have happened America would not have its current number one export. In his prime most consumers who listened to his message and gazed upon his image said “OH NO!”  from fear of what they could not understand. Today, we look at his legacy of art and effort and cant help ,but smile and yell “AH YEAH!”.

“If hip hop has the power to corrupt young minds, it also has the ability to uplift them.” - KRS-One 

The musician is a natural master of vibration and emotion. Many musicians have been able to make us dance. Many have been able to draw on relatability because nobody is the only person like them in the world. Perhaps some have even made us cry or provided soundtracks for intimate moments. Only few musicians have taken on the task of socially and historically educating their listeners through their music. 

Even fewer have been able to combine the mastery of teaching with mastery of rhythm. Those who do this become legends like; Nate King Cole, B.B. King, Nina Simone, Bob Marley, Chaka Khan and Fela Kuti’ and their influence lives throughout generations. In 1995 Krs-One released a self-titled album that came in the sunset of his reign. His career would mirror the sepia filter of the album cover. 

This album had dominant auras of militancy and rebellion that Krs-One fans had not heard since Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded. Krs-One was able to both appease his day one fans and gain the younger generation of Hip Hoppers who were listening to artists such as: Nas, Redman,Das Efx, Tupac, and A Tribe Called Quest. The message and timing of this album may have been divine. Let us look at the historical events of the year(s) Krs-One was creating this album in. In 1994, the United States congress had successfully completed the first step of becoming fascist by Voting to Censure Dr. Khalid Muhammad, National Advisor of the Nation of Islam. Bill Clinton and Joe Biden led Democrats to pass the The Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act and effectively fueled the prison industrial complex. South Africa held it first election since intergrating with the apartheid government and Invisble Man author Ralph Ellison had passed. Hip Hop was the soul vehicle of expression to protest the genocide that had been going on and KRS One was one of its leaders. The youth looked toward this leader to deliver an album reflective of their mindstate and he delivered. 

Imperative of a classic work of musical art, this album is composed of multiple great songs, but in my opinion the cornerstone song of the album is undeniably “Ah Yeah”. In this song he masterfully uses three 16 bar verses to empower and mobilize his listener much in the same way Dr. Khalid Muhammad did. This track starts with the establishment of an a capella warcry. He writes in response to western power’s having done such an incredible job destroying the rebel instinct that Afrikan people possess by publicly shaming our leaders and traditions. These lyrics are him trying to raise the psyche of a fallen warrior class and put revolt back in its holy place as opposed to the negative connotation that has been applied by the white power structure.  He essentially made a chant-like hook with an underlying message of “This is your enemy, This is how to handle him, and THIS is okay”. The aim focuses on  redirecting the accumulated anger of a traduced peoples that is often mistargeted toward self so that we may be collectively progresssive. 

He bellows:

“Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you see a devil down

Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you take the devil's crown

Ah yeah, stay alive all things will change around

Ah yeah, what? Ah yeah!”

Then comes the establishment of an eerie bass line. This song structure is familiar to fans of his earlier work. It was what they were longing for. For a few albums he took the perspective of being in the classroom or office as opposed to in the battlefield with his men. He had returned to fight with us like Haile Selassie. Immediately he establishes a dual level of respect. One with his men and one with his deterrent.  

“So here I go kickin' science in ninety-five

I be illin', parental discretion is advised still

Don't call me nigga, this MC goes for his

Call me God, cause that's what the black man is

Roamin' through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist

Black women you are not a bitch you're a Goddess

Let it be known, you can lean on KRS-One

Like a wall cause I'm hard, I represent God”

In the first 2 bars of the preceding excerption he lets us know he intends to drop some knowledge, but it will not be filtered for political correctness or comfortability. The following 2 bars he establishes both a tone of encounterment and identity. Then he goes on to explain from which direction he came much like Saint Maurice's appearance upon the plagued people of Europe to let them know he has navigated and he is no spook. He goes on to talk to his listener and the most important of them, the women.

In 1994, fresh off a press tour on which she gained popularity from criticizing Bill Clinton, Sister Souljah published her first book that was heralded by black scholars and youth alike entitled No Disrespect. Her Influence was cemented in the minds of black youth and played a huge role in raising generational consciousness by dealing with topics like “how the black woman is viewed by black men” and “the black woman’s role in repairing the black family structure”. She had solely been awarded leadership duties by a disregarded demographic in a scapegoated culture and was handling it with the grace of Misty Copeland.  Her and the women she raised to consciousness needed the camaraderie of Krs One. He goes on to sell to himself:

 “Wack MC's have one style: gun buck

But when you say, "Let's buck for revolution"

They shut the fuck up, can't get with it

Down to start a riot in a minute

You'll hear so many Bowe-Bowe-Bowe, you think I'm Riddick

While other MC's are talkin' bout up with hope down with dope

I'll have a devil in my infrared scope,”

In the first five bars he addresses the enemies of the oppressed people within the oppressed people. These “Wack MC’s” are the Uncle Toms’ and Judas of the rebellious, afro-centric movement that is Hip-Hop. He says they lack discipline and do not have the self awareness to rescue themselves. In comparison with himself who uses that energy toward an ultimate goal, Independence through revolution. In the succeeding excerption KRS briefly displays the cognitive processing and coping mechanism of a warrior:

“WOY

That's for calling my father a boy and, klak, klak, klak

That's for putting scars on my mother's back, BO

That's for calling my sister a ho, and for you

Buck, buck, buck  cause I don't give a motherfuck

Remember the whip, remember the chant

Remember the rope and

You black people still thinkin' about voting?

Every President we ever had lied!

You know, I'm kinda glad Nixon died.”

Throughout the preceding excerption KRS skillfully uses onomatopoeias to create a setting for his listener. There is a battle going on. Shells casings are falling to the ground and bullets are flying from high caliber weapons. He is in the thick of it and then an enemy approaches him. He musters the courage to engage with his assailant by remembering the suffrage the morals of his enemies’ elected nation-state has caused his ancestors. Then he rejoices in the death of one of their leaders, Richard Nixon.

In the second verse Krs-One addresses an age-old topic of discussion for spiritual people that was brought forth to the Afrikans of today by Noble Drew Ali, “The Prophetic Soul”. This belief dates back to ancient Buddhism in the caves of Asia taught to us by Dr. Ivan Van Sertima in his book “African Presence in Early Asia”. This belief entails that all the prophets of the world including but not limted to; Adam, Jesus, Buddha, Muhammad, and himself were the same soul being reborn until its mission is completed.” Krs-One puts himself and a couple others in this divine line of being. 

“This is not the first time I came to the planet

 concern every time I come, only a few could understand it

I came as Isis, my words they tried to ban it

I came as Moses, they couldn't follow my Commandments

I came as Solomon, to a people that was lost

I came as Jesus, but they nailed me to a cross

I came as Harriet Tubman, I put the truth to Sojourner

Other times, I had to come as Nat Turner

They tried to burn me, lynch me and starve me

So I had to come back as Marcus Garvey, Bob Marley

They tried to harm me, I used to be Malcolm X

Now I'm on the planet as the one called KRS

Kickin' the metaphysical, spiritual, tryin' to like

Get with you, showin' you, you are invincible

The Black Panther is the black answer for real

In my spiritual form, I turn into Bobby Seale

On the wheels of steel, my spirit flies away

And enters into Kwame Ture”

In the beginning of the third verse he briefly continues the theme of possessing The Prophetic Soul but now, he does not speak from a perspective of being the people who had the soul. He speaks from the perspective of the soul. This soul is traveling and looking for a host. In the first two bars he speaks of how he was able to travel without detection from the government’s surveillance. Then, he goes on to finally choose a host that is relevant to the demographic of people it intends to reach. This host is stylish and his image is relatable, so the people will be receptive of his message through familiarity. 

“In the streets there is no EQ, no di-do-di-do-di-do

So I grab the air and speak through the code

The devil cannot see through as I unload

Into another cerebellum

Then I can tell em, because my vibes go through denim

And leather whatever, however, I'm still rockin”

After the prophetic soul latches on to the host, KRS-One, it manifests purpose with grassroot organization and motivational speaking. Being KRS-One founded the Stop the Violence Movement in 1988 and was solely responsible for mobilizing many of the most influential Hip Hoppers against Gang Violence and Culture he had plenty of knowledge to give on the topic.

“We used to pick cotton, now we pick up cotton when we shoppin'

Have you forgotten why we buildin' in a cypher

Yo hear me kid, government is building in a pyramid

The son of God is brighter than the son of man

The spirit is, check your dollar bill G, here it is

We got no time for fancy mathematics

Your mental frequency frequently pickin' up static

Makin' you a naked body, addict and it's democratic

They press auto, and you kill it with an automatic”

Too often credit for the creation and establishment of a culture or society is given to one person as opposed to being evenly distributed amongst the support structure. How many times have you been taught the legacy of all the men that signed the declaration of independence? It is likely that you’ve only been taught about Thomos Jefferson. Just like there would be no Fidel Castro without the parallel influences of Che Guevara and Camilo Ceinfuegos there would be no Hip-Hop without KRS ONE. Perhaps without his tenacity, passion, and will it would have been infiltrated and exploited before it reached its full maturity. If that would have happened America would not have its current number one export. In his prime most consumers who listened to his message and gazed upon his image said “OH NO!”  from fear of what they could not understand. Today, we look at his legacy of art and effort and cant help ,but smile and yell “AH YEAH!”.

[kipskat]

Men, I'm sure there's a good part in you that desires to not end up 'not seeing her as your future'. (Jayzam-zoned)

And I mean, for the greater majority of men out there, I have always believed that the sane and average man would date a woman without the intention of playing with her feelings or hurting her.

But - even if the intentions are harmless, a lot of relationships still end up either spiraling to their destruction or continuing lifelessly on a plateau for years.

I'm offering you some new perspective that might just help your relationship move forward.

And I'm sharing this from my experience, observations, and failures I've had in the past. And sharing this as a married man to another man - because except for those who are obviously being whiteknights and simps, we don't really see a lot of men to men advices here on social media.

These are things your woman might not be able to fully express to you but would like to...

.

1. WHILE YOU ENJOY PLAYING

... videogames or hanging out with your friends all week, and it seems like you're taking it easy in life, your woman is gradually getting anxious about your future together.

They said a man matures later than a woman because their prefrontal cortex develops late. The prefrontal cortex is the part of the brain that helps people set and achieve goals. That's why at the age of 25, the average woman sees herself settling down within 5 years, while the average man finds it hard to see even see himself at all within 5 years.

If this is true for you, it's about time to realize that you don't have to wait for that function to kick in. If you are in a relationship with a woman, you are responsible for her. Her dreams and aspirations in life can not wait just because you still haven't figured out yours.

.

2. IF YOU ARE IN YOUR EARLY OR MID 20's

... you need to understand that a woman has a biological timetable that she needs to beat. If she wants to have a handful of children in the very near future, understand that she needs to start making a family now. If you are serious about your future together as a family, think hard about this one.

.

3. YOUR WOMAN WANTS TO SEE YOU

... become fully independent. A help from your family, especially if you come from a well-off household, is truly a blessing. But your woman will always prefer seeing you striving, struggling, and working hard independently rather than getting everything you need from your family.

Remember, you are making your own, new family. Your family's wealth might have impressed her before, but things are different now. What she wants to see is how you are able to establish family with her, and not how much money your family can shell out to you every month.

.

4. SHE DOESN'T WANT TO OPEN UP THE TOPIC

... about marriage. Do you know how hard and embarrassing it is for women to open up the idea of marriage? While they or you both desire it, she doesn't want to come off as needy or insecure by initiating the conversation about getting married. Do not take this for granted. Just because she isn't talking about it, doesn't mean she doesn't want it.

This is by far the number one reason why women get stuck in 6-8 year long dating relationships. They can't afford to ask but their man won't ask either. Remember that the purpose of dating is to get to know each other. No sane woman believes it takes 8 years to get to know the other person, so you best bet that she is waiting for you to start talking.

Discuss it. Set timelines and deadlines. Think of it as your new project, or a new mission. Think of it as a quest that you need to finish before you can level up. Don't be stuck as a noob, take the first step.

.

5. DEEP INSIDE SHE WOULD TRY TO BLAME HERSELF

... for every screw up that you made. It sounds illogical, yeah, but most women do this. If you ever cheat on her and have an affair with another woman, she'll get hurt, of course. But on the aftermaths of it all, she'll try to figure out what she did wrong, where she lacked, or what the other woman got it better than her. She'll start to compare herself to other women and get more insecure about herself. She will feel guilty about something she never did.

So just don't do it.

Even in minor, more tolerable issues, she would still try to see if she has already done her best or if she could have done better.

.

6. SHE DOESN'T LIKE TO BE FORCED TO COMPROMISE

... on everything. You might already know that your woman is very emotional. It might not appear on the surface, but a whole lot of them use their emotions as their deciding factor.

Sadly, that is also the reason why so many women are stuck in toxic relationships again and again and can't seem to move forward. They are vulnerable to emotional deception, and some really despicable men out there know this and use this to manipulate the relationship.

That being said, I'm sure that's not you. But be aware of this the next time you screw up: she's torn between getting angry at you and loving you. And most of the time, women choose to love. That's why they get hurt because they keep on choosing to love, over choosing to move on. They keep on hoping for that slightest possibility of feeling loved back.

I've always joked about this to my wife. "What if you found out that I cheated, and I asked for your forgiveness, will you forgive me?"

She doesn't want to answer it every time, but as followers of Christ, we both know for a fact that she WILL forgive me.

That said, this idea never made me happy or never pushed me to entertain the thought of having an affair. Why? Because of how much damage it will put through her heart, her mind, and her soul, to deal with unfaithfulness and shame, and ridicule, while she has to put up with me and accept me back.

It's not something a proper man would ever do to her woman.

So if ever you're even thinking about messing around with another girl while you're in a relationship with your woman, think about this.

.

7. SHE WANTS YOU TO LEAD

... in all aspects of the relationship. It doesn't matter if you're a shy one, if you keep to yourself, or if she has a more dominant personality. It might not seem like it, but she would want to see you be the best man you can become by leading her.

Knowing where to eat or where to go is different than being able to guide her through life's most difficult challenges. She wants to see that you can be relied on in almost every aspect of your lives together.

Lead her emotions. If she's angry, learn to model how to communicate despite negative emotions. If she's happy and ecstatic, be joyful yet stable.

Lead her through decision making. In my experience, what a woman wants is not a man who makes all the right decisions in life, but a man who can pull himself up through all the bad decisions he's made. If there is need to admit a wrong decision and give an apology, then do so. Wise decisions are great, but so is accountability.

Lead her through proper perspectives and worldviews. If you see her scrolling her Instagram feed, or sharing 'sana all' posts on Facebook, appreciate her and encourage her to find the beauty in what you already have.

Lead her spiritually. Most often than not, your woman sees her relationship with God as something personal. But if you're building a family together, someone needs to be the spiritual head of the household. Invite her to study scripture. If you're not there yet, talk to her about finding a church you can both try and attend. And in the simplest forms, pray for her and your future together.

There are many things and areas in life that she wants to see you lead. But maybe it's the idea of knowing you can take good care of her and your family in the future is what matters.

.

8. YOUR WEDDING DOESN'T HAVE TO BE EXTRAVAGANT

... but it has to be special. Understand that she's scrolled past countless of wedding photos on Facebook that almost looks like it costs over a million to set up. While it might entertain her mind for a while, she will always be happy with the thought of being married to you. It doesn't have to be as grand as your friend's wedding. Just start the damn wedding is what she cares about.

If this is what's keeping you from proposing or making plans, make sure you understand why weddings happen in the first place. It's a covenant between the both of you and God. Those TikTok dance numbers is not something God cares about. Not even that 4-6 tier cake or those fancy lights and decoration.

Start with the essentials and then add the non-essential elements of the wedding only if you can. Your woman will love you for it. What matters to her is that you finally and officially belong to each other.

-

I tried to keep this as close to the Jayzam-zone issue as possible, but it's 3 AM and my words are leaking out of my mind.

So if you want to "see her as your future", start seeing her differently today.

And don't be pressured if she tags you in this post for you to read. That's how mature relationship works. Lots of things need to be discussed.

--

I'll write more if I have to and edit this post to add more . Follow the page to stay tuned.

P.S. bawal mag LQ sa comments section. Discuss it in person or sa messenger.

--

CTTO: The Imperial Patriarch of FB

[whatarubberchicken]

Play Me a Tune (Make Me Smile)

Because @galahadwilder and his prompts are bad influences... (probably not exactly what you were thinking, but it’s a start...)

Play Me a Tune (Make Me Smile)

“I love my job; I’m living the dream,” Marinette recited to herself. She took a deep breath and tried to relax. Everything hurt from gritting her teeth through that last meeting. Not only had it been a long night, but their current client was turning out to be impossible!

She just needed a breath of fresh air. She was going to eat her bagel, then go back in her office and completely blow this project out of the water! Yes!

She rounded a corner and stopped short.

Great. More musicians. Exactly what she DIDN’T want right now.

Two boys to be exact: a blond with a keyboard and the other on guitar who obviously dyed his hair blue on a regular basis. She was just about to walk the other way….

Except these two were everything her client was not: bright and happy as they sang together, instead of dark and brooding like XY as he tried to cultivate his emo phase. They were also kinda cute. (No offense to XY, she knew a lot of people liked his look, but it just wasn’t for her.) And (full offense to XY) actually talented in music. Their instruments and voices blended together perfectly.

And it made her feel things.

In fact, it made her blush deeply when they grinned at each other and kissed mid-song.

Marinette quickly finished her bagel and fled back to the safety of her office.

Get it together, girl! she scolded herself. You’ve seen people kiss before!

But… none of them had made her want to stand up and cheer for the couple before. Those two boys were obviously in love.      

Her afternoon was spent sketching new designs in greens, yellows, and blues. She scowled when she realized they all had little hearts in them somehow.

………..

The next day was just as bad; meetings ran late, clients had to be rescheduled, “Where’s the mock-up, Dupain-Cheng?” “You said you needed it next week!” “That was then, we need it now!”

Luckily, she’d already been half-done with it anyway, but it still hadn’t been easy to whip the rest of it up in half a morning when she was supposed to have a whole week…. She sighed, staring down at her muffin in disgust. She missed Papa’s croissants. Maybe she should go visit?

No. No, she couldn’t go running back to them now! She’d never leave!

Before she’d realized what’d happened, her feet had carried her back to that same street corner. And, surprise, surprise, the two musicians were there, entertaining the crowd by racing through a rendition of some pop song as fast as they could.

Marinette snorted in laughter as the crowd cheered at their big finish. Not just young, beautiful, and obviously in love, these two were playful and fun too!

She wished she had time to meet them.

…………….

The third day was cold and wet, and as dark as Marinette’s mood.

Rejected.

Her designs had been rejected.

After all that hard work, all the revisions that had been fully-approved and accepted, the client had completely done a 180.

“These are too whimsical and colorful!” XY had complained (even though he’d been the one to commission a brightly-colored suit from them in the first place). “What?! Do you think I don’t take my music seriously or something?”

You shouldn’t, she’d wanted to snark back. You’re just a synthesizer with a bad haircut.

Luckily, her company was well-established enough that were still going to be paid for their hours, but it still smarted that someone thought she wasn’t good enough.

She sighed. Taking a walk around the area to clear her mind was just what she needed. She’d get over it easily enough; she just needed to recover from that initial sting.

She wasn’t even surprised when her feet automatically carried her back to where the two boys were playing. She WAS surprised that they weren’t playing around and laughing like the past two times she’d seen them. Instead, they were sitting underneath an awning, keeping their instruments out of the light drizzle, and playing softly to each other.

Still, however soft and slow, it was a good melody, and Marinette felt herself drawn closer, in order to hear them better. To her chagrin, however, the blue-haired boy noticed her.

“Well, look at what we have here, Adrien,” he said cheerfully. “A princess in the rain!”

“That’ll never do,” the blond agreed, standing up and opening an umbrella with a flourish. “Would you like an umbrella, my lady?” he asked, giving her a courtly bow.

“Oh! Uh, no, that’s fine,” Marinette stammered, blushing. “You—you’re going to need them later for your instruments.”

“Actually, our cases are waterproof,” the blue-haired boy pointed out, patting the hard case beside him. “And Adrien here likes to cuddle with me under one umbrella anyway.” He winked at his boyfriend.

“I am but a simple man with simple tastes,” Adrien stated dramatically. He turned back to Marinette. “And, right now, I’d really like to see a princess’s smile,” he added, much more gently.

She was sure her face was on fire as she took the umbrella and tried hard to give the boys a strained smile. Judging from the look on the blond’s face, he wasn’t impressed.

“S-sorry,��� she finally said. “It’s… been kind of a bad day so far.”

Adrien’s eyes lit up. “A mission!” he cried, darting back over to his keyboard. “The Quest to Make the Princess Smile!”

With that, he started up a jaunty little tune, the other boy following him immediately on the guitar. It was carefree, and upbeat, and ordinarily, Marinette would’ve loved it. Today, though, she just gave them a small smile, and dug into her wallet to throw them a tip.

“Thanks, guys,” she said, tossing them her biggest bill. It was just about time to go back and face her failures at the office—

“Luka,” she heard Adrien whine. “The princess is trying to pay us, even though we didn’t make her smile!”

Oh my God, he was so cute! He actually sounded heartbroken that he couldn’t cheer her up!

“Hmm,” Luka said thoughtfully. “She said she had a bad day, babe. We know how that can be, right?” The blond hummed in agreement, leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder as Luka strummed a quiet, mournful tune. Absently, the blond followed him on the piano.

Marinette felt her shoulders relax at the gentle melody. Soft, sad, hopeful—it kinda sounded like rain, actually. The tension in her jaw lessened as well and she sighed in relief.

Yes. This was what she’d been needing. The two boys continued for a couple of minutes before Luka stopped and smiled at her knowingly.

“Better?”

“It was. Thank you,” Marinette said honestly. She held out their umbrella. “But I still don’t need this. I’m just going back inside there,” she said, gesturing to her building. Neither of them made any move to take it back, though, (Adrien was actually pouting at her again and he was seriously, so cute) so Marinette made to put it by the hat they had out for tips (a derby hat. What a strange choice!).

“Hey!” Adrien exclaimed, standing back up and stomping over to her. “Are you trying to insult my chivalry?!”

“No,” Marinette said, startled.

“Adrien…,” Luka said warningly, chuckling a little bit. “Sorry about him. He likes to think he’s some sort of white knight or something.”

“Uh, hello? The Black Knight is infinitely cooler,” Adrien argued, hands on his hips as he argued with his boyfriend. “And besides, a real knight would insist on walking his lady home—which I won’t!” he quickly added, noticing Marinette took a step back, “because in this day and age that’s considered creepy—but I can insist you take the umbrella, my lady.” He gave her another bow.

Marinette felt a little laugh escape her. He was just so over-the-top!

“There, good sir, you’ve made me laugh,” she said, dipping into a tiny curtsy. “You mission has been accomplished. Well done.”

Adrien’s eyes brightened and he fist-pumped the air. He and Marinette both laughed when Luka played a quick Final Fantasy victory fanfare.

“Thank you. Both of you,” Marinette said warmly, feeling better than she had in days. She stepped closer to Adrien and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “There. A token of my thanks.” Then, before she could lose her nerve, she walked over to Luka and gave him a kiss on the cheek too.

He beamed at her. “Best tip all day.”

Giggling, she waved goodbye and headed back to work, already planning her schedule for tomorrow so she could come back here for lunch.

…

Luka watched her go, seriously considering going after her to beg for her phone number. He glanced at his boyfriend, still standing in the middle of the sidewalk with a dazed expression on his face, his hand touching the cheek she’d kissed.

He chuckled. Adrien had had a crush on her since they’d noticed her a couple of days ago. His boyfriend was so gone.

Mischievously, Luka fingered out a quick, “Another One Bites the Dust!”

That seemed to snap Adrien out of it, and he whirled on his boyfriend, blushing deeply.

“Sh-shut up!”

Luka just laughed. He couldn’t wait to see her again.

[waritawrites]

Tales from the Hood: Rhodie (black elitists) or Duke Metger (Biden) - Who was the Bigger Threat to Black People?

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2021/05/05/tales-from-the-hood-rhodie-black-elitists-or-duke-metger-biden-who-was-the-bigger-threat-to-black-people/

#Prolife #LABlackAdvocatesforLife #LouisianaBlackAdvocatesforLife #BlackGenocide #AbortionIsEugenics #PlannedParenthoodIsElitist #Elitism

#ElitismIsHomicidal #LouisianaRightToLife #PlannedParenthoodPredators #PlannedParenthoodOwesReparations #Reparations

In Rusty Condieff's 1995 horror movie Tales from the Hood, there is a story called KKK Comeuppance which starred Corbin Bersen as senator and former KKK member Duke Metger and Roger Guenver Smith as his Public Relations consultant Rhodie (a black elitist) who are working to get Duke elected as governor. Duke faces great opposition because of his past membership with the Ku Klux Klan and AND his choice of the location of his campaign headquarters - his grandfather's old plantation. His grandfather murdered his slaves were upon finding out slavery in the south had been legally ended. There is an old legend that says that a former slave woman used witchcraft to capture their souls and place them in the bodies of dolls. The dolls would periodically come to life and their leader was the woman's husband who had been killed. A mural of the woman and her dolls was located Duke's office.

Alone, Duke was an unlikeable, arrogant, person. Yet, with the help of Rhodie, his appeal grew which made him a serious contender in the governor's race. When looking at today's political scene, one would easily say that Trump was like Duke Metger - when looking from a superficial perspective. A SUPERFICIAL PERSPECTIVE. He wasn't the most tactful. He was blunt. Some, DEFINITELY NOT ALL, of Trump's were white supremacists (some were also white "liberals" pretending to be stereotypical white conservative Trump supporters) and those who weren't white were anti-black, some of which were black. Yes, there are anti-black black people. One such character in Tales from The Hood was Rhodie. Rhodie seemed to represent a stereotypical black republican. He seems like the type of anti-black, self-hating black person who would pretend to "help" the black people improve their community by getting rid of as many Black people as possible using:

- Forget GOD and uphold multicultural, pagan ideals instead

- Abortion

- Euthanasia (gotta maintain that quality of life)

- Normalization of promiscuity

- Normalization of destructive alternative lifestyles

- The stigmatizing of traditional marriage and family

-The normalization of addiction and substance abuse, such as recreationally smoking heroin

Columbia professor: I do heroin regularly for ‘work-life balance’

https://nypost.com/2021/02/19/columbia-prof-i-snort-heroin-regularly-for-work-life-balance/

https://twitter.com/Joy_Villa/status/1363557914351403016?s=20

People who promote such self-destructive behaviors as normal or even inherently black are an enemy! They are an enemy of mankind, no matter how progressive that they think such behaviors are. Indeed, progressivism, like evolution, is an oxymoron because you don't gain anything biologically nor socially. Things regress to its most basic form. Though, a progressive such as a eugenicist might would tell you, "progressive for the purpose of efficiency - less means more." More for them, more resources for them in their quest to reign supreme in the survival of the fittest, or their horrible misinterpretation of term. Yet, we don't see the promotion of such self-destructive behavior coming from Black Republicans, Conservatives, and Independents. We see the encouragement of black self-destruction coming from Black Democrats

Most Democrat Legislators Champion Margaret Sanger’s Racist Genocide Mission – Are They Counter-representing You?

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2019/05/16/most-democrat-legislators-champion-margaret-sangers-racist-genocide-mission-are-they-counter-representing-you/

Liberals, and some (especially paid) Social Justice activists as well as your various dose-of-distraction-from-news-and-entertainment-attractions.

Black Agents of White Supremacy in the Media endorse racist Joe Biden

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2020/03/04/black-agents-of-white-supremacy-in-the-media-endorse-racist-joe-biden/

Support of the Super Predators: White Supremacists in Liberal Disguise and the Mainstream Media that promotes them

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2020/02/17/support-of-the-super-predators-white-supremacists-in-liberal-disguise-and-the-mainstream-media-that-promotes-them/

Joe Biden & his supporters on Joe's racist association with the klansmen sound a lot like Duke Metger & Rhodie in Tales from the

Hood @ 0:56:22 mins

"We all have a past, now don't we?"

"We all, have a past. Its a better man who can learn from his failures. I know that I have learned from mine and I'm better for it."

Duke Metger & Rhodie in Tales from the Hood, https://youtu.be/5vxHfr3DLKg

Margaret Sanger also used black elitists to carry out her plan for eugenics by way of birth control.

Planned Parenthood has stalked and misinformed Black people, particularly Black people experiencing poverty as well as uneducated Black people about the personhood of an unborn child. However, Black Democrats, Liberals, and some (especially paid) Social Justice activists such as Black Lives Matter:

BLM to Biden & Harris: We want something for our vote

https://www.theblaze.com/news/black-lives-matter-leader-to-biden-and-harris-we-want-something-for-our-vote

- BLM got in the way with their grifting and clout-seeking.

Michael Brown’s father, Ferguson activists demand $20M from BLM

By Kenneth Garger

https://nypost.com/2021/03/03/michael-browns-father-ferguson-activists-demand-20m-from-blm/amp/?__twitter_impression=true

Where is the $90 million dollars collected by BLM? Michael Brown’s father, Ferguson activists demand $20M from BLM

https://twitter.com/TheFabulousRee/status/1371965130578268160?s=20

Shaun King attempted to discredit Samaria Rice when she spoke against the political exploitation of racism and police brutality done by pseudo-social activists, celebrities, and politicians. Shaun King stated that she was not thinking the way that liberal white "woke" supremacy wants her to think. She isn't sticking with their destructive narrative and agenda for Black people. They're redlining us into feeling that we can't be self-reliant! Meanwhile, Closet Capitalist Anarchists ease into the neighbohoods they help to destroy to start businesses, buy real estate for commercial and residential purposes;etc. #UnfollowShaunKing

"I read Shaun King’s piece about Samaria Rice’s critical social media comments and this is some of the most patronizing ugly sh-t I’ve ever seen"

https://twitter.com/ztsamudzi/status/1371882450763329536?s=20

BLM destroyed a beautiful,civilized movement as well as communities. It could have been a beautiful,civilized movement yet they ruined it w/buffoonery such as twerking for Martin Luther King, Jr Day and WAP stupidity

Joe Biden's non-response reminds me of this scene from Tales from The Hood:

Duke Metger in Tales from the Hood, "No Reparations!" https://youtu.be/7vjwA1IkIRk

and Black ministers

Apostate False Preachers for Feticide and Infanticide: Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2020/03/11/apostate-false-preachers-for-feticide-and-infanticide-jesse-jackson-and-al-sharpton/

have been its main proponents and propagandists since the early 1900's when it was known as the American Birth Control League. To appeal to Black people, Sanger said:

The Use of Ministers for The Negro Project in a 1939 letter to Dr. C.J. Gamble:

"The ministers work is also important and he should be trained, perhaps by the Federation as to our ideals and the goal that we hope to reach. We do not want word to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population and the minister is the man who can straighten out that idea if it ever occurs to any of their more rebellious members."

In Birth Control and the Negro, Sanger talked about the value of the influence of black ministers:

“The project would hire three or four ‘colored Ministers, preferably with social-service backgrounds, and with engaging personalities’ to travel throughout the South and propagandize for birth control, since ‘the most successful educational approach to the Negro is through religious appeal” (as cited in Gordon, 2007, p. 235).

Dr. Albert Lasker, Sanger (1939) stated, "If we could get the Negro Universities and the Negro medical groups behind this project it will go over really big I think, especially if there is a little money to give to those for time spent and for supplies in their clinics."(para. 3)

One of her biggest propagandists was W.E.B. DuBois (See: Negroes and Birth Control, https://libex.smith.edu/omeka/files/original/16e5b6a56c2c4aedb3274e7124f3006e.jpg)

W.E.B. DuBois (1939) stated:

“Among the more intelligent class, was a postponement of marriage, which greatly decreased the number of children. Today, among this class of Negroes few men marry before thirty, and numbers of them after forty. The marriage of women of this class has similarly been postponed.

In addition to this, the low incomes which Negroes receive make bachelorhood and spinsterhood widespread, with the naturally resultant lowering, in some cases, of sex standards. On the other hand, the mass of ignorant Negroes still breed carelessly and disastrously, so that the increase among Negroes, even more than whites, is from that part of the population least intelligent and fit, and least able to rear their children properly.” (para. 4 and para.5).

Joe Biden has more in common with Duke over the course of his career than does Trump. Here are the facts listed in my article, Joe Biden has built his career by FIGHTING AGAINST EQUITY and EQUALITY, https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2021/01/22/joe-biden-has-built-his-career-by-fighting-against-equity-and-equality/ :

"Joe used the drug epidemic to target Blacks and poor people to serve longer sentences for trafficking by promoting proganda that crack is more lethal than cocaine. Blacks and poor people could afford crack for distribution and sell because it was less expensive than cocaine which Biden gave lesser sentencing. This occurred during the time the number privatized prisons began to increase. These were for-profit prisons. This first company to take over a prison was Core Civic in 1984. Civic Core took over a Shelby County, Tennessee prison.

Vox.com's German Lopez https://www.vox.com/2015/8/26/9208983/joe-biden-black-lives-matter shares Jamelle Bouie's list at Slate.com https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2015/08/joe-biden-presidential-run-why-its-a-bad-idea.html:

"Comprehensive Control Act: This 1984 law, spearheaded by Biden and Sen. Strom Thurmond (R-SC), expanded drug trafficking penalties and federal "civil asset forfeiture," which allows police to seize and absorb someone's property — whether cash, cars, guns, or something else — without proving the person is guilty of a crime. Under the federal Equitable Sharing program, local and state police get up to 80 percent of the value of what they seize as funds for their departments, which critics say creates a for-profit incentive to take people's stuff.

Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986: This law, sponsored and partly written by Biden, ratcheted up penalties for drug crimes. It also created a big sentencing disparity between crack and powder cocaine — even though both drugs are pharmacologically similar, the law made it so someone would need to possess 100 times the amount of powder cocaine to be eligible for the same mandatory minimum sentence for crack. Since crack is more commonly used by black Americans, this sentencing disparity helped fuel the disproportionate rates of imprisonment among black communities.

Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1988: This law, co-sponsored by Biden, strengthened prison sentences for drug possession, enhanced penalties for transporting drugs, and established the Office of National Drug Control Policy, which coordinates and leads federal anti-drug efforts.

Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act: This 1994 law, partly written by Biden and signed by President Bill Clinton, imposed tougher sentences (including some mandatory minimums) and increased funding for prisons, fostering the explosive growth of the US prison population from the 1990s through the 2000s — a trend that's only begun to reverse in the past few years. Since black Americans are disproportionately likely to be incarcerated, the law helped contribute to the mass incarceration of black Americans in particular. But the law also included all sorts of other measures, including the Violence Against Women Act that helped crack down on domestic violence and rape, a 10-year ban on assault weapons, funding for firearm background checks, and grant programs for local and state police.

The RAVE Act: This 2003 law built on the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986 to impose civil penalties on businesses that knowingly lease, rent, use, or profit from a space where illicit drugs are being stored, manufactured, distributed, or used. The idea was to go after raves in which drugs are widely used. But the law has been widely criticized for making rave organizers so paranoid about anti-drug crackdowns that they stopped doing anything that would implicate them in drug use, including providing medical or educational services for drug users."

Interesting that Joe and Strom Thurmond partnered to write the 1984 Comprehensive Control Act during the same time period that Core Civic took over a facility in Tennessee. The increase in the number of privatized coincided with Biden's focus on creating crime bill's. To sell his 1994 Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act #1994CrimeBill, Biden's rhetoric was "Lock the S.O.B.'s Up" to further vilify the poor and other disenfranchised people to justify mass incarceration.

-'Lock the S.O.B.s Up’: Joe Biden and the Era of Mass Incarceration

He now plays down his role overhauling crime laws with segregationist senators in the ’80s and ’90s. That portrayal today is at odds with his actions and rhetoric back then.

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/25/us/joe-biden-crime-laws.html#click=https://t.co/7ck1J9966W

His magnum opus was his 1993 Predators Beyond the Pale Speech

-Joe Biden Warns Of "Predators On Our Streets" Who Were "Beyond The Pale" In 1993 Crime Speech

https://youtu.be/7oDHSt-CKtc

- Joe Biden wrote the Clinton approved Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act:

Bill Clinton's crime bill destroyed lives, and there's no point denying it

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/apr/15/bill-clinton-crime-bill-hillary-black-lives-thomas-frank "

In addition to creating legislation that racially profiles minorities into a system of for-profit mass incarceration, he has also been a loyal supporter of planned parenthood.

Current Planned Parenthood CEO Alexis McGill Johnson says:

"Margaret Sanger’s beliefs caused irreparable damage to the lives and health of generations of Black people, Latino people, Indigenous people, immigrants, people with disabilities, people with low incomes, and many others." Read more from

@alexismcgill

: https://p.ppfa.org/3x3N29f

https://twitter.com/PPFA/status/1383827872628953094?s=20

I’m the Head of Planned Parenthood. We’re Done Making Excuses for Our Founder

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/04/17/opinion/planned-parenthood-margaret-sanger.html?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=tweet&utm_campaign=healthtwitter&utm_content=nyt2-april21

Despite McGill-Johnson's statement of the racist activities of planned parenthood as well as Kamala Harris' expression of fear of Joe Biden's praise of the known white supremacists of whom he has shown reverence:

What bothered Kamala about Joe? Interview with Kamala Harris on the campaign trail - Face the Nation

11:35 mins: “Praising and coddling individuals who made it their life work and built their reputation off of segregation of the races in the United States........I would not be a member of the United States senate if those men he praised had their way."

What bothered Kamala about Joe?

https://youtu.be/xMqp7A-O0HE?t=695

Let's talk about Joe Biden - 10:53 mins

https://youtu.be/xMqp7A-O0HE?t=653

this year he has still allowed the government to give over 400 million dollars to continue to decimate the Black community.

Joe Biden Gives Abortion Industry $467.8 Billion, 19 Times More Tax Money Than Obama

https://www.lifenews.com/2021/04/29/joe-biden-gives-abortion-industry-467-8-billion-19-times-more-money-than-obama/

https://twitter.com/StevenErtelt/status/1388694739512348674?s=20

Black people make up 13% of the population and Black women only represent 6% of the total population yet account for 36.9% of the nation’s abortions whereas white women account for 36% of the nation’s abortions however white people are 76% of the nation’s population. (Jatlaoui TC, Boutot ME, Mandel MG, et al, 2015).

Jatlaoui TC, Boutot ME, Mandel MG, et al. Abortion Surveillance — United States, 2015. MMWR Surveill Summ 2018;67(No. SS-13):1–45. DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.15585/mmwr.ss6713a1

Regarding the near extinction of the Black population in America due to abortion, Nyhiem Way El stated to reparations group American Descendants of Slaves,

https://www.facebook.com/groups/ados101/permalink/296772141208488/?sfnsn=mo,:

"- Based on the January 2018 estimate that there have been 60 million abortions in the United States since 1973,20 we can deduce that well over 18 million of them were performed on black babies.

- As of July 2017, the black population in the U.S. stood somewhere around 40 million, which means that abortion has reduced the size of the black community by more than 30%—and that doesn't include the children and grandchildren that would have been born to those aborted more than a generation ago.'

Abort73.(n.d.). Abortion and Race. Retrieved from https://abort73.com/abortion/abortion_and_race/

Essentially, this is a 50% halt in population growth if you look at the children and grandchildren who would've been born since 1973 of the aborted. (Way El, 2019)

**As of July 2017, the black population in the U.S. stood somewhere around 40 million, meaning abortion has reduced the size of the black community over 30% and doesn't including potential children and grandchildren born to those aborted a generation ago

https://abort73.com/abortion/abortion_and_race/"

Planned Parenthood owes reparations to Black people, Hispanics, those living in poverty, women, AND fathers who wanted their children that were aborted.

GOD hates the Oppression of the Disenfranchised: Proverbs 30:14 & Jeremiah 34:8 - 22

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2021/04/17/god-hates-the-oppression-of-the-disenfranchised-proverbs-3014-jeremiah-348-22/

Proverbs 30:14

“There is a generation, whose teeth are as swords, and their jaw teeth as knives, to devour the poor from off the earth, and the needy from among men.”

Hypocrisy of Joe Biden: A Legacy of Self-Entitlement and Oppression against the Disenfranchised

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2020/01/08/hypocrisy-of-joe-biden-a-legacy-of-self-entitlement-and-oppression-against-the-disenfranchised/

Biden's overall opinion of Black people continues to be low,especially of those who would vote for him. In August 2020, Biden stated at a meeting with Latino voters:

"By the way, what you all know, but most people don’t, unlike the African American community, with notable exceptions, the Latino community is an incredibly diverse community with incredibly different attitudes about different things.”

—#JoeBiden 8/6/2020 https://youtu.be/f4lXYR0su-8

I'm glad that I'm a notable exception - I didn't vote for him.

I will never support the removal of GOD being THE GUIDE of America, abortion

Scriptures Against Abortion and Child Abuse

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2020/03/12/scriptures-against-abortion-and-child-abuse/

HURTING CHILDREN BRINGS ON THE WRATH OF GOD

Matthew 18:5-6,10

5 And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.

6 But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea

10 Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven

the destruction of traditional marriage and family, the destruction of traditional gender roles,eugenics, population control,euthanasia, and government and corporate hoarding rationing for totalitarian purposes disguised as environmentalism and sustainability.

Reference

Way El, N.(2019,May 16).Predatory Abortion Industry causes 50% halt in black population growth

https://www.facebook.com/groups/ados101/permalink/296772141208488/?sfnsn=mo

Du Bois, W.E.B.(1939, April). Negroes and Birth Control. Smith

https://libex.smith.edu/omeka/files/original/16e5b6a56c2c4aedb3274e7124f3006e.jpg

Sanger,M.(1939).Letter from Margaret Sanger to Dr. C.J. Gamble December 10,1939. Smith Libraries Exhibit, Accessed January 10, 2019, Retrieved from https://libex.smith.edu/omeka/files/original/d6358bc3053c93183295bf2df1c0c931.pdf

Gordon,L.(2007). Birth Control and the Negro. In The Moral Property of Women, p.235. Urbana; Chicago: University of Illiniois Press.

Sanger,M.(1939).Letter from Margaret Sanger to Dr. Albert Lasker November 12,1939. Smith Libraries Exhibit, Accessed January 11, 2019, Retrieved from https://libex.smith.edu/omeka/files/original/087da25e33426c0e81b01eebcdcc079d.jpg

[sufferingsoup]

Listen I’ve been fucking ~obsessed~ with @thenerdyalchemist ‘s pirate AU (I’m sure nobody could tell bc I definitely don’t reblog eVrY dAmN pOsT of it nope not me never😂😂) and I just needed to write this scene. I’ve had it in my head since I read all the HCs for this AU and I needed to put it on paper lol. I’m not great at writing whatsoever, I’m v out of practice and def didn’t edit this, but I wrote it and it exists so I might as well post it right? Lmao. Anyway here it is hope u enjoy 😩 (Also sorry in advance abt the wack ass formatting lmao. I never make posts on tumblr and I highkey wrote this in a note on my phone and then pasted it in here lol)

Runaan grinned as he practically hung over the side of his ship, watching the familiar dock inch closer and closer. It felt like years since he had been back to this town, /his/ town. He was finally in the home stretch, and his crew couldn’t dock the ship fast enough for him. Before, he could stay out at sea forever. If it weren’t for the need to restock supplies every once in a while, he probably would. The open ocean was his home town, his crew was his family, his ship was his home, he didn’t need anything else before. But now? Now he had a reason to /want/ to go back to land.

/Him./

It had been an absolutely agonizing few months. When he had first set sail, he figured it would be like every other quest. Of course he would miss Ethari dearly, but they would both be busy with their respective work, and they could write to each other in the mean time. But this time was different. The moment he left his heart had sunk, leaving a gaping hole in his chest that widened further as he watched Ethari sit on the dock and wave until he could no longer see him. The first thing he did was write a letter to him. Even though he had only just left, he felt like a huge piece of him was missing without him there by his side. He found that he could not enjoy himself as much as he normally would.

The salty smell of the sea and the rhythmic pounding of the waves that used to calm him no matter how upset he was now served only to fill his thoughts with memories of midnight walks along the beach. The sand between his toes and rough, yet gentle fingers interlacing with his own, shoulders knocking against each other every so often. Looking into those bright amber eyes reflecting the moonlight back at him, putting all of his emotions clearly on display for Runaan to see.

The beating heat of the sun that would warm him through to his bones after a stormy night now reminded him of the forge, his mind replaying all the soft, intimate conversations they had while Ethari tinkered away on whatever his current project was. That thick accent of his, and his deep voice that could command the attention of an entire town if he wanted to, clashing oh-so-beautifully with his gentle laugh and sweet words.

The sea shanties the crew would sing in celebration of a successful mission, the dancing that accompanied them, the merriment he once found endearing and joyous and hilarious now dragged Ethari’s ethereal voice through his mind, reminding him of the many dances they shared during the festivals Ethari would drag him to when he visited. The brightest, purest of grins gracing that magnificent face as they held each other close, moving together to the beat and singing along with the familiar lyrics.

Everywhere he looked he only saw Ethari. All the sounds he heard, the scents he smelled, the touches he felt, the flavors he tasted, everything came back to him. /Oh, Ethari would love these jewels, he would make the prettiest necklace out of them!/ ... /The fire smells just like his workshop tonight, I wonder what he’s working on right now/ ... /Ethari so adores the sound of the seagulls calling out over the beach, I’ll have to tell him how many have followed us!/ All of his thoughts were consumed by /him/. It was driving him mad not being able to see him, hear him, touch him for himself.

But today was the day. /Finally/ he would be able to hold him again, and this time he would not let him go.

Ethari hummed softly as he carefully shined thin wires around the glittering stone. He wanted to make a unique little ring as a returning gift for Runaan. The shiny silver wires braided together and held a small, elegant opal in the center. Runaan’s last letter had informed him that he was almost back again, he was expecting him any day now. He had made sure to clear his schedule for a few days so he could welcome him back properly. He had so many things to tell him and show him, and Runaan always brought him lots of sparkly things when he returned from his quests.

He has been terribly lonely while Runaan was away. He was always a bit uneasy when he left, always worrying for his safety and missing his presence. Working on his projects was much more fun when his heart was safe and sound right next him to tell him stories and laugh at his awful jokes. But this time was much harder.

He was gone for a long time, and even though they wrote each other frequently, nothing could quite fill the hole in his heart. He decided he hated sleeping alone ever since Runaan had begun to stay with him when he would return. Every morning he would awaken to find himself disappointed at the empty silence that met him. Runaan would always be up bright and early, practicing his sword-fighting in the living room or getting chores done for him before the sun even had the chance to peak over the horizon. He would have tea and breakfast ready for him every morning, and Ethari was convinced that there was no better sight than a messy, early-morning Runaan bustling away in the kitchen with his hair down.

No, he didn’t like having breakfast without Runaan at all. Just like he hated walking the market without their arms linked together, Runaan haggling over everything Ethari tried to buy. Just like he hated wandering the beaches alone, without his hard-ass, pirate-king lover to playfully kick sand at and push into the water. Just like he hated coming across a new merchant with fun new foods and goods he had never seen before without Runaan to explain what they were and eagerly buy the lot for him. Life was utterly dull without Runaan by his side.

But soon he would be back. Soon he would be back in his arms.

Runaan pulled his hair out of its messy bun as they approached the dock, allowing it to flow in the breeze as freely and lightly as he felt. The moment the ship was close enough to the dock, he leaped over the side and climbed down.

“Make sure she’s tied down good, lads! I’ll be back in a bit to help with the unloading!” He called to his crew as he ran towards the street.

His heart fluttered as he felt the little ring hidden in his coin purse bounce against his leg. Today was the day. He sped through the market on the familiar route he had taken hundreds of times before. People jumped out of his way as they saw the tattoos on his face, gazing after him questioningly. It wasn’t very usual to see the dreaded pirate king running through town like a giddy schoolgirl. He didn’t care, though. He was on a mission of utmost importance. His body was leading him to his heart as fast as it could carry him. Before he knew it, he could see the familiar old door with the splintering old sign dangling above it, swaying in the light breeze. His grin widened as he picked up his pace for the final few strides. He skidded to a halt in front of the workshop door and kicked it in.

“Ethari!” He shouted, ready to combust from the pure excitement and the slight nerves zipping around throughout his body. The tinker gasped in surprise from his position at his worktable, whipping around to see the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on grinning in the wide-open doorway. He gasped again and slapped a hand over his mouth as hot tears began to sting at the corners of his eyes.

“Runaan!” He replied, getting up from his stool and running toward his lover, “I didn’t know you’d be back so-“

He stopped hard in his tracks a few paces away from him when Runaan suddenly dropped to one knee, staring up into his eyes with the softest look he had ever seen on his hard features. Ethari watched silently with wide eyes as Runaan dug in his coin purse and retrieved a shiny golden band adorned with tiny, glittering aventurine crystals around the middle, holding it up to him.

“Marry me, Ethari.” He breathed. The tears were flowing freely down Ethari’s cheeks now.

“Are you sure?” He asked, voice small and quivering. Runaan nodded hastily, grabbing Ethari’s hands tightly.

“I don’t want to be without you for another second, my darling heart. I want to travel the world with you by my side. I want to show you all the amazing things I get to see. I want you to sing to me while we lay together in our hammock and let the waves rock us to sleep. I want to make you tea every morning for the rest of my life, just so I can see that beautiful, sleepy, lopsided grin of yours first thing every day. You are all I need in this life. Please, my love, my /heart/, be my forever.”

Ethari fell to his knees in front of him, sobbing into his hands. Runaan pulled him into a tight embrace, tangling a hand into his messy hair as Ethari buried his face in the crook of his neck. They stayed that way for a moment, Ethari crying onto his shoulder as Runaan comforted him gently. When Ethari had calmed down enough to think, Runaan chuckled softly.

“Is that a yes?” He teased.

Ethari pulled back, cupping Runaan’s face in his hands and staring deeply into his eyes.

“What else could it possibly be, my shade?” He sniffed before crashing their lips together desperately.

After a moment of passionate kissing, Runaan pulled back and took Ethari’s hand gently in his own, sliding the sparkling ring onto his finger. Ethari lifted his hand to admire it. The gems were the color of Runaan’s eyes, and they sparkled beautifully no matter which way the light hit them. Suddenly, he remember the little ring he had dropped on his table when his door had been busted in. He gasped and ran over to grab it. Runaan followed him curiously, trying to peek over his shoulder before Ethari turned and held it up to him.

“It was just supposed to be a ‘welcome back’ gift, but it seems it might be a bit more than that now.” He giggled as Runaan stared at it in awe.

“It’s beautiful...” he said as Ethari took his hand and gently placed it on his finger. He turned his hand over and over again, taking in every bit of the artistry and craftsmanship that went into the tiny piece of jewelry before grinning up at his newly betrothed. He fell into Ethari’s strong arms and kissed him again - more gently this time - before resting their foreheads together.

“So,” Ethari started with a mischievous grin, “does this mean I finally get to watch you swab the poop-deck now? I was never on the ship long enough to see it.” He teased. Runaan groaned, but he couldn’t mask the laugh that bubbled up from his belly.

“No,” he sassed back, “it means /I/ get to watch /you/ do it. The /king/ never does hard manual labor.” He grinned, pinching Ethari’s sides. Ethari snorted and grabbed his hands, wrapping his arms around him again and pinning them behind his back firmly. He smirked at him and brushed his nose lightly against Runaan’s.

“We’ll see about that later tonight now won’t we, my /king/.”

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

Please Don’t Come Back- Chapter 4

(Head’s up- temporary character death)

Behrad looks into Gary's past, Ava confronts Rip, and Gary returns to the Waverider.

AO3

              Behrad glanced over at his sister as she slept on the little nest of pillows in the parlor. By now, Zari had to be deep into her vision quest. It was still crazy to think about how in another timeline, she’d been a Legend too. Then again, he really did need to re-evaluate his definition of crazy after the past few years he’d spent with the Legends. Maybe she could share some details about her other self when she came out of the slumber.

              With Zari occupied, Behrad could get working on his secondary task. Ava had asked him to see if he could get Gideon to pump out some information on Gary’s past. She just didn’t have the same connection he did with the AI. It was actually worth getting stuck in a time loop…almost. But he had visited her in his dreams through her matrix and gotten to know her better since then. It probably wasn’t a good idea to sleep while Zari was out, but he could still talk to her awake.

“Hey, Gideon?” he called, stepping out momentarily to the bridge. “You there?”

“I am, Mr. Tarazi. What you need?”

“I need information on Gary Green, and nothing that’s been forged.”

Gideon paused before speaking again. “Mr. Tarazi, there is a command code to access that information on Gary Green.”

“Please?” Behrad pleaded. “I know you can override it.”

“Mr. Tarazi-”

“I’ll play Scrabble in your matrix with you,” Behrad offered. “Think about it. You, me, all those little tiles. You kicking my ass with words no one has heard of.”

“People have heard of those words,” Gideon huffed. “I…suppose I can grant you a window. But I have to warn you about what you’re going to find. There’s a reason Captain Hunter buried that information.”

Documents started to appear on the console screens in front of them. Behrad chuckled.

“You’re the best, Gideon.”

“I know.”

~~~

“What are you doing here?”

              Ava tried not to look too surprised at Rip’s appearance, but she was kicking herself on the inside. If she’d just taken Gary’s file and run instead of debating grabbing her own, then she would have made a clean escape. Now she was trapped in a room with the man who had lied to her about her whole existence. If she didn’t play this right, he would get suspicious and use the memory flasher on her. Everything would be for nothing then.

“Director Hunter,” she nodded, not smiling as she pushed Gary’s real file under her arm. “Director Bennett asked me to get these file updates to be processed.”

Rip looked from his desk to the file under her arm. “Did he now?”

“Yes. I didn’t mean to barge in, but I had no idea when you were coming back.”

Rip nodded. “That’s understandable.”

“Great. So if you don’t mind, I’ll just get going!”

She started to move around to reach the door, but Rip side-stepped to block her path.

“Something that’s not understandable is that I saw you just a minute ago with Agent Green, preparing to go to a mission briefing,” Rip told her. “You can’t portal into offices of directors, so how did you sneak past me?”

“I was just-”

              Ava caught the movement of Rip’s hand on the flasher and acted fast. She dropped the file and kicked him backwards, catching him off-guard. He fell against the desk, the memory flasher hitting the floor. Ava ran forward and kicked it away. Rip made a move to fight back, but Ava was ready. She grabbed the arm that was heading for her in a punch and attached a handcuff to his wrist. As he processed that, Ava dragged him over and handcuffed him to one of the stupid wall sconces he had in his office.

Rip looked at his situation with frustration and then back to her. “Who are you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Ava Sharpe, or the twelfth version of her that you brought back from the future and programmed full of fake memories.”

The deflation in Rip’s shoulders was satisfying. “You’re from the future.”

“2020,” Ava went over to the door, keeping her eyes on him as she made sure it was locked. “I’ve come back for a little mission regarding a certain file that you redacted. Or were going to redact today.”

“Agent Sharpe-”

“Director,” she corrected, even if she hadn’t held that title in nearly a year. “I deserve some answers today. And I might have never gone to seek them out if I hadn’t decided to do a favor for someone.”

Rip didn’t seem surprised at the title. “Well, congratulations first off. I always had a suspicion this day would come. That you would want answers for your past.”

“I do,” Ava leaned against the back of a chair in his office. “Maybe I’ll get to ask a few. But I’m not here for myself. I can understand why my file was redacted.”

“But you still wanted to steal it and find out everything.”

Ava shook her head. “Not everyone is self-centered. I didn’t come for my file. I came for Gary Green’s.”

Something changed in Rip’s body language. It wasn’t major, but a look of fear entered his eyes briefly and he stiffened. “You’re here about Agent Green?”

“In my present, certain people are rising from Hell to return to Earth,” Ava explained, not exposing too many details. “Rasputin, Genghis Khan, Marie Antoinette, a bunch of others. Gary has this notion that his father could come back too.”

Rip went somewhat pale. “If I were you, Director Sharpe, I would hope that never comes to be.”

“Well, I’m trying to assess how big a threat he’d be if he does come back,” Ava sighed. “But you conveniently erased any details on his file that would be able to help me. So what’s the deal with Gary, Rip? Hell, why did you even hire him in the first place? I’ve had to save his ass half the time.”

A snort escaped her former boss. “You’d be surprised how often I’ve been asked that. He’s more capable than he lets on. His father practically trained him to be a child soldier.”

Ava frowned.

“That’s not why I recruited him. Part of it was…revenge. One last middle finger to his father for everything he did to me- taking his son, not that he cared about Gary anyways.”

“And what was the other part that made you recruit him?”

Rip sighed. “To keep an eye on him in the event he turned out to be just like his father.”

“Like his father?” Ava raised an eyebrow. “How bad is his father?”

“Director Sharpe, just take the file and go. At this point, you might as well take yours too.”

“No!” Ava snapped. “Not until you’ve given me a straight answer. For once in your goddamn life, stop avoiding the truth. Tell me now who Gary’s father is!”

“His name is Vandal Savage.”

              The way Rip said the name made it feel like something had crawled down Ava’s spine. Everyone at the Time Bureau knew about Vandal Savage and what he had done. She had made a list of serial killers and all-around awful people who could have been Gary’s father, but Vandal Savage hadn’t been on the list. The name had come up, but she had doubted that he was a possible candidate. Ava looked at the file on the floor and picked it up to check. For once in his life, Rip was not lying.

“You think Gary could be the next Vandal Savage?” she asked, still working to accept it.

“I don’t want to underestimate the possibility,” Rip said. “His father trained him to be a killer. I would be a fool to assume Vandal Savage’s son didn’t have the same potential of evil. Those who are mentored by him go on to aid him in his activities or commit their own atrocities. If Gary ever does turn, then I plan to take him out myself. You should too.”

Ava laughed. “Gary wouldn’t…he wouldn’t.”

              She couldn’t say that he wouldn’t turn evil. It hadn’t been a year and she’d completely forgotten. Gary had given into Neron’s influence and worked with him. She and the Legends had a hand in contributing to his fall, treating him like crap and using him as unicorn bait and not paying overtime. But it wasn’t like he had gone Damien Darhk evil, just a henchman really. The way Rip was looking at her…he knew something had happened.

“Go ahead and take his file,” Rip instructed. “Use it to make your own judgement. Take yours as well.”

Ava glanced back at where hers was still sitting on Rip’s desk. “I only brought Gary’s to be replaced. It’s too late to get mine.”

“I suppose you’ll have to leave it then. Maybe it’s for the-”

“Hold on,” Ava held up a finger. “I’m not done. You redact that file but make a copy first. Leave it somewhere on the Waverider. Think of it as way to make it up to the last eleven versions of me that you thought of as disposable.”

Rip looked regretful. “I’m not proud of that and you deserve to know the truth. I’ll leave the file in the room no one goes into. Now will you please let me go?”

Ava picked up his memory flasher from the floor and put into her pocket. Taking Gary’s file and making sure it was the unredacted one, she tossed Rip the key to his handcuffs. He managed to catch it as Ava started to open the door.

“You were a good mentor,” she told him. “But you don’t care about people unless they help you achieve your goals. You did it to me. You did it to the Legends. You probably did it to Gary too. Everyone who can help you gets used, and they leave you for it. And one day, you’ll have nowhere left to run and no one to help you. It’ll be a sad ending, but you brought it upon yourself.”

Rip stared at her as she opened the door and walked out. Ava exhaled as she strode towards the bathroom. She had always wanted to give Rip a piece of her mind for what he’d done to her. Inside the bathroom, she programmed the courier to take her back to Central City and Mick just a few minutes after leaving them. Hopefully, she’d still be able to see her favorite niece.

~~~

              Behrad watched Atropos drag the golden thread from his chest. He had heard of people talking about their life flashing before their eyes, but now his life was being pulled out before his eyes. The Fate had her bone knife held back and was ready to swing down. No one was here to save him, but hopefully someone would come for Zari. This was it.

He was going to die without anyone at his side and he was going to die before he could tell Ava what he had found out from Gideon.

Behrad was going to die before he could tell her that Gary’s father was Vandal Savage.

SNIP

~~~

Stacey had tried to get him to stay another day, but Gary knew he had been gone long enough.  He had to get back to the manor and get back to his magic studies, especially with his father’s return. The Legends were going to have to be notified that Vandal Savage was back at an Encore and after the Loom of Fate as well. He didn’t even have to tell them that the man was his father…yet. But it would better they knew before he found them and let that bomb slip.

After making sure protections were put on the house and its occupants, Gary drove the car that he’d rented back to the dealership. He then planned to portal back onto the Waverider first so he could tell Captain Lance and the crew. Before he did, Gary pulled out his phone. He hadn’t looked at it for days so he could get away from everything, but he’d missed a voicemail from John.

“Hey, Gary. It’s John,” he heard as soon as he pressed play. “We found the first piece of the Loom…”

Gary listened the message twice. His heart did sink when he realized that he had missed saying goodbye to Ray and Nora. Hopefully, domestic bliss was treating them well.

“I miss you. Just…let me or someone on the ship know you’re okay, right? Bye.”

              Both times, Gary smiled at the last words. He had missed John while he was away. Whatever they were was murky and muddled, but he felt there was something there. Then again, he could just be reading into things too much. He probably hadn’t helped things with his own disappearing act. But he did want to see John again.

              When he made it onto the Waverider, a chill traveled down his back. Something was off about the ship and he didn’t know what it was. As he started heading in a direction, he passed Zari storming away out of the med bay. Mascara was running down her cheeks, so something was wrong. Gary’s gut twisted fearing the worst.

“Zari, are you-”

“Not now!” she snapped, brushing past him.

Gary watched her go and peeked his head inside the med bay. His heart sank as he saw John lying on one of the beds, eyes closed. Oh no, no, no.

“John?”

John groaned and opened his eyes. “Gary?”

“Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were dead.”

John’s face fell as Gary entered the room. “Starting to wish I was instead.”

Gary shook his head. “No, don’t say that. Not after the last time.”

“You don’t know?” John sat up with a wince. “Gary, how long have you been back?”

“Barely a minute, but I did see Zari crying. Is she okay?”

“Hardly. Her brother’s dead.”

The world stopped for a few seconds as that news sank in. “What?”

“Behrad was on the ship with Zari when- Gary!”

              He hadn’t realized he’d been falling until John reached out to grab his arms as his knees hit the floor. Gary could hear him telling him to calm down, but he was hearing his father’s voice swearing to find the Legends. His father had sworn to find the pieces and the Legends. With two of them in the same place, he would have easily taken the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

“How did he get on board?” Gary mumbled.

“He?” John frowned. “No, it was a she. Charlie’s sister, Atropos. She wanted the rings and nearly got them. Charlie and Sara got the rings, but she got away. She almost took me out too if Nate hadn’t found me.”

Gary sighed in relief not only because John was alive, but because it hadn’t been his father who had found the ship and killed Behrad. But he absolutely hated that he hadn’t been there. Behrad was not the one who should be dead right now. If he hadn’t gone off the grid for a few days, he could have been here and helped him, maybe even saved him.

“Strangest thing though,” John muttered. “I swear when I was bleeding out by the creek, someone was standing over me before Nate found me.”

The panic that had gripped Gary earlier returned.

~~~

              Lachesis pushed the soul coin to the side when she was finished with the summoning. She started studying one of the other coins she’d recalled earlier while waiting. Even when the flames started to rise up and she heard the screaming, she just kept examining the coin and how useful they could be. When the intended soul finally appeared, Lachesis glanced up at him. As predicted, Vandal Savage was furious.

“What am I doing back here?!��� he demanded, striding up to her table. “I was so close to taking out Constantine!”

“I know,” Lachesis told him, setting the coin to the side. She would decide on its usefulness later. “I don’t doubt you could have slaughtered the whole crew.”

“As if your sister wouldn’t have done the same.”

Lachesis narrowed her eyes. “Atropos has restraint, something that you seemed to have forgotten during your duration in Hell.”

The dictator scowled. “I was not known for leaving a job unfinished.”

“Except that wasn’t why I sent you to the surface. I would have called you back sooner, but Atropos required your assistance in finding Clotho. But now that you’ve returned, I’m curious to know how the family reunion went?”

A smirk slid across Vandal’s face. “Gareth refused my offer. He wouldn’t turn on the Legends, but that doesn’t mean they won’t turn on him. It’ll be inevitable, but it can’t hurt to speed things up. Should I make an entrance for them later?”

Lachesis smiled. “You’re getting your touch back. You’ll get your revenge soon enough, but first we need all the rings in one place. Clotho’s doing the dirty work retrieving them all, even if Atropos is collecting earlier than she should. Once she has all the rings, then your son will bring you back.”

“Gareth’s magic is powerful, but how will you convince him to bring me back?”

“Oh, I won’t be doing the convincing,” Lachesis gave a low whistle toward the shelves where she knew the hellhound lurked. “Marchosias will.”

The man across from her took a half step back as a growl came from the darkness. No matter the evil or bravery in a soul, the sound of a hellhound drove a spike into the fear of all. Lachesis watched as Vandal recovered himself and nodded in agreement. Lachesis picked up another coin and examined it. Yes, she would be a good one to bring back.

“You can go now,” she told Vandal. “If you’re still angry I brought you back so soon, there’s plenty of people to take it out on down the street.”

“Until we meet again.”

Lachesis glanced up as he started to open the door. “How much does your son know about what happened to his mother, Vandal?”

“What does that have to do with the plan?” he sneered.

“If you want him to stay after he betrays Clotho and the others, I need to know so as not to let the wrong details slip.”

“I told it him it was pneumonia. He was only six, he didn’t ask questions.”

Lachesis nodded. “I won’t mention the truth then.”

Vandal didn’t say anything else. He just walked out the door and closed it behind her.

Lachesis picked up the next coin in Astra’s stash. Jack the Ripper would be a fine addition to the souls she would bring back.

[classysassy9791]

Everyone would get their happy ending. Even if she wasn’t a part of it.

Pairing: InuKag, MirSan Chapter 1 Word Count: 6,950 Can also be found here

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A torrent of rain fell from the sky and gales that rivaled a whirlwind of destruction tore through the forest, making the trees come alive. Leaves tore from their branches and spiraled to the dreary earth below. The storm raged callously, intent on bringing destruction to everything it touched.

But Kagome didn't care about the water splattering against her cheeks or the way her hair blew wildly in the wind. She didn't even mind the soil that dirtied her knees as she knelt in the wet grass. Her eyes could only stare disbelieving at the object she held in her hand. The Shikon Jewel glowed pure and bright.

The final battle had been fought. And she had finished it.

"Is it over?" her fox demon companion asked, bouncing to sit on her shoulder.

She didn't spare a glance at the kit, instead nodding her head slowly with incredible realization. After everything they had been through, Naraku's reign had come to an end. The only fatality was that of the demon himself, and no one had felt a pang of regret or sorrow. At the same time, though, tears fell from her eyes. They were not borne of pity for him and his evil ways. Instead, she wept for those he had hurt and killed; for those whose very lives had been destroyed due to his desire for power and revenge. Kagome cried for everyone who had fallen victim to his wrath. It didn't seem right that so many had to die from one creature. All because of his greed.

Footsteps fell softly upon the grass as her other companions struggled over to where she knelt. A flash of red caught her gaze and she looked up to be greeted with the amber eyes of her protector. "Inuyasha," she murmured, blinking against the falling rain.

"Come on, Kagome," he said, reaching out a clawed hand to help her stand. "Let's get you back to Kaede's."

She gave in to his command as she stood, immediately finding her place upon his back. Without a word, the heroes slowly made their way back to their safe-house.

. . . 

Sunlight streamed through the treetops and glistened off the small lake, causing a rainbow to sparkle on the surface. The storm from almost a week ago seemed like a bad dream, the aches and pains of battle now faded. Even Kagome's spiritual abilities seemed to have returned completely, originally drained after she shot the fatal arrow that caused Naraku's demise.

But she remained restless, her mind unable to quiet and allow her to enjoy the peace her companions took pleasure in. She had been thinking constantly over the past few days. Being the reincarnation of Kikyou, the sole duty of protecting the Shikon Jewel fell to her shoulders. She had long ago decided that if this day should come, she would rid the jewel from existence – or at least make a pure wish on it so that harmony would prevail over the land.

So, Kagome found herself sitting at the base of the Goshinboku, mulling over what her decision would be. A soft rustling of tree branches brought her attention from the cloudless sky to the direction of the village. Only a moment later did the old priestess appear, rather frazzled to have traveled so far from her hut. "Goodness me, Kagome," she chided upon spotting the girl. "What on earth were ye thinking, dragging an old woman out into the forest?"

She smiled apologetically, watching as her mentor took a seat on one of the tree's large roots. "Sorry, Kaede. This was the only place I could think of that would give us some time alone."

"Aye," she agreed. "Tis a wise decision, with Inuyasha working in the village today. Although, it would not sit well with him if he learned of ye little adventure all alone."

She waved her words aside. "I asked Miroku to keep an eye on him so I could talk to you." Kaede gazed at her expectantly. "It has to do with the fate of the jewel."

Kagome held up the small pink jewel in her hand, letting the old woman catch a glimpse of it. "I see," she murmured. "So ye wish to seek my wisdom as to what ye shall do with it?"

She shrugged. "Sort of. It's more about the wish."

Kaede sighed and looked to the treetops. "When the jewel fell into my sister's possession fifty years ago, I knew little of its origin or the abilities it held. After her demise, I learned it contained great powers beyond my imagination. 'Tis why we were glad it had been burned with her body, to ensure no harm would come from it. But it seems Kikyou's efforts were in vain, for it has been brought back and now lies in yer hands."

Confused, Kagome waited patiently, expecting more of an explanation. When none came, her shoulders slumped in disappointment. "I'm guessing you have no clue as to what I should do?"

"Not in the slightest," Kaede replied honestly. She chuckled at the predicament, but was quickly silenced by the distraught expression on Kagome's face. "What troubles ye, my dear?"

"I think I know what I want to wish for. I'm just not sure if it's the right one."

The old priestess smiled. "Ye heart is pure, Kagome. I'm sure that whatever you choose will bring nothing but good." She patted the girl's knee in closure as she stood, preparing to return to the village. "Be back by sundown. Otherwise Inuyasha will be coming after ye."

Kagome smiled in response, but as soon as Kaede had vanished, gloom dwindled her happy façade. Not for the first time that week did she long for Kikyou to still be alive. A strange notion, considering their history, but Kagome felt lost in being the protector of the jewel. Kikyou had somehow always known what to do, and now Kagome desperately pleaded for her guidance.

. . . 

One more day.

Kagome finally determined that she had the right wish in mind, but it would undoubtedly change everything they knew, so during the trek back to the village, she had decided to give herself a set time in which would allow her to say her final goodbyes. She only had until the following night to say what needed to be said, and to do what needed to be done.

The campfire glowed merrily as everyone chatted quietly around it. Misery stayed far from their minds, replaced by laughter and good nature. Kagome smiled along with them, but even she could feel how aloof she kept herself; she had always been a terrible liar.

Her eyes drew to the half-demon she had unintentionally fallen in love with. His silver hair shined from the fire's glow as shadows were sent around the clearing. The amber intensity of his eyes made her heart race and his permanent scowl inadvertently filled her with delight. As usual, his arms were folded over his chest, Tessaiga propped against the crook of his elbow, as he sat with his attention on the forest, although Kagome was sure he was listening to their conversation.

Kagome's gaze turned to the rest of her companions, marveling in the minute details she knew she would miss. That's if I remember them, she sourly reminded herself. Sango's hair freely swiped at her back as Miroku took her hand in his, rubbing small circles with his thumb over her palm. Marriage had been spoken about earlier in the day, but even as Kagome fussed over the wedding plans and gave her congratulations, a sharp pang to her heart reminded her there would be no happy celebration.

"What's the matter, Kagome?" Shippou asked, propping his hands upon her thighs and looking up at her curiously.

A smile tugged at her lips at her little fox friend. Even young, he always seemed to have a keen eye when it came to details. "I'm fine," she assured softly, trying not to draw attention to her melancholic mood. She rubbed the kit's hair affectionately and gave him a comforting nod.

His bright green eyes seemed hesitant to drop the subject, but he finally gave in with a shrug of his shoulders. She could tell he knew something bothered his surrogate sister, but to him the reason would forever remain a mystery. He galloped back to where Kirara had curled up, and immediately took part in the conversation that passed between his comrades.

Inuyasha didn't miss the exchange Kagome and Shippou shared. He noted the way her hands curled into tight fists and every so often she would bite the inside of her cheek in a nervous habit. Sniffing the air around her, he could smell the anxiety coming off her in waves. He didn't understand it, though. They had just defeated their arch nemesis, and everyone remained in good health. It was a time for celebration.

His eyes flickered over her curiously, trying to pinpoint the source of her affliction. When his gaze landed on the Shikon Jewel hanging by the column of her throat, he swallowed nervously. Although he did his best to hide it, he couldn't deny the dread that had been building in his stomach over the past few days. He couldn't remember when exactly he had decided not to become a full demon with the power of the jewel - it most likely had to do with the times he had transformed into a demon and threatened the lives of his friends. However, he recalled a sense of worry that had bloomed in his chest during their last few battles as they reached closer to Naraku's end.

Inuyasha knew that once Naraku had been defeated, the jewel would be complete. It had never swayed their quest to destroy the half-demon who had caused so many a great deal of pain. But… it also meant that the reason Kagome had been brought to the feudal era, her purpose to be by his side, would vanish. He knew there was always a very real possibility that Kagome would leave them once she had completed her mission.

Could that be the reason why she was so upset?

Feeling someone's gaze on her, Kagome averted her eyes from Miroku and Sango's playful banter and peered up at her half-demon friend. She tilted her head questioningly. "You okay?" she whispered, her brows knitted in concern.

"Keh," was the only reply she received as he turned away.

Kagome frowned, but knew if it held any great importance to him he would tell her eventually. The twosome tuned back into the conversation between their friends and continued to laugh even as the shadows grew darker. Not until the last flicker of flames died down did the warriors begin to feel weary and said their goodnight's, moving into the hut to rest.

The young priestess listened to her companions' deep breathing as they each lulled to sleep, looking up at the ceiling and clutching the jewel in her hand. Please, Kikyou, she silently prayed. Give me strength.

. . . 

Kagome stepped out of Kaede's hut with a yawn and stretched her arms over her head. Her sleep had been restless and dreamless, which she was silently thankful for. She didn't need any help procuring doubt or deepening the dread in her gut. Holding a hand over her brow, she glanced up at the midday sun. It looked like it would be another beautiful day.

"Morning, Kagome," Shippou called, scampering toward her and bouncing into her arms. "You've been asleep for ages."

She shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry. I guess I'm still exhausted."

"It's okay. I was playing with my fox magic while you slept." He manifested a ball of blue fire as if to prove his claim.

"I see," she replied with an amused smile. "And where is everyone else?"

He pointed toward the village. "Miroku and Inuyasha went to help fix a roof, Kaede is bringing medicine to someone, and Sango took Kirara to take care of a small demon nearby."

Kagome scrunched up her nose, displeased that all her friends had left without waking her, but it was short-lived as she gazed down at the fox kit's carefree expression. "Well, then," she said, her chipper voice helping to push aside her dark thoughts. "Why don't we hang out, just the two of us?"

The silly grin on his face caused her to laugh as he expressed his delight for her company. He began sprinting toward the well, glancing back every so often to make sure Kagome followed. She chased after him, the wind on her face helping her to momentarily forget the concerns that kept her awake at night.

An hour easily passed as the two surrogate siblings played games. Shippou showed off his fox magic tricks and they shared the crayons she had gifted him as they drew pictures of their friends.

"Look at this one," he announced suddenly through the quiet clearing. He held up his drawing. "Bet you can't guess who this is."

Kagome peered at the picture closely, her eyes scanning over the brown outlines and tanned skin.

"I bet that one's Kouga," she smiled, pointing to the larger figure in the foreground. "And those two behind him are Ginta and Hakkaku." The two wolf demons chased after their leader, desperately trying to keep up with his speed.

"That's right!" he gleefully replied, setting the drawing down and choosing a blank piece of paper to start a new work of art.

The picture she currently worked on consisted of Shippou. His red hair shined like a beacon and his emerald eyes seemed to sparkle. She drew him in a battle stance, a wave of blue fox fire surrounding him; she disdainfully admitted she didn't possess the artistic talent Shippou had when it came to likeness. The drawings splayed out to the left of her consisted of the rest of her companions: Inuyasha with Tessaiga, Sango with Hirakotsu, Miroku with his golden staff, and Kirara in her transformed state.

A lazy breeze swept across the grass and brushed through strands of Kagome's hair. She sighed and set aside her latest completion, placing her crayon back in the box while admiring the small kit laying on his stomach across from her; his tongue sticking out between his lips in concentration as he continued to draw.

"Shippou," she spoke quietly, sitting on her knees with her back against the well.

He didn't look up from his drawing. "Yeah?"

"Come here." She beckoned him to the place beside her, and with a puzzled expression he did as she said. He sat down and felt his stomach churn with a feeling he couldn't identify. "You've grown up quite a bit since we first met you."

"Y-yeah," he agreed with a touch of pink to his cheeks, her observation catching him off guard.

Kagome ruffled his hair affectionately, her smile sad. "You know, you're going to be a great demon someday. You'll probably be deemed protector of a whole village."

His eyes shined from the compliment – too often had she found him looking up to Inuyasha, the half-demon's strength and reputation finally earning him the respect he deserved. "Really?"

"Really." She chuckled. Turning to grab her yellow bag, she dug through it until she found what she was looking for. "I want you to have these."

His eyes peered over the gifts she presented him. "You're giving me all your pocky?" He gawked.

"Yeah," she nodded. "With all the hard fighting you've done, I think you deserve it." She deposited his treasure in his hands. Kagome only gave him treats few and far between; she always lectured him about sweets making him sick if he ate too much at once. So, giving him all of her pocky not only gave him a big responsibility involving his heath, but also meant a great deal of praise.

"Thanks, Kagome!"

Trying to fight back the tears, she gathered the young kit in her arms, holding him close in an embrace. "You're like a little brother to me, Shippou. I want you to be as strong as I know you can be."

His little hands clutched her shirt and his eyes suddenly watered. It sounded as if Kagome planned on leaving, as if she was saying goodbye forever.

"Kagome," he spoke in a quiet, shaky voice. "Are you... gonna leave us?"

She shook her head and brushed the tears from her eyes. "No," she promised. "I'm not going to leave you."

How can I leave, if I never came?

Her words brought a relieved smile to his lips as he jumped off her lap. Quickly collecting his drawings and pocky in his arms, he began the trek back to the village.

"I'm going to show these to my friends!" he said, grin widening at the thought of the village children's reactions.

Kagome watched him leave, taking a moment to gather her thoughts as she wrapped her arms around herself. The wind touched her gently as it blew across the clearing, carrying along the crisp scent of autumn. Colder months would be approaching soon – just like the feeling in her chest; with each subtle goodbye, another layer of ice covered her breaking heart.

. . . 

"Hey, Sango," Kagome called as she stepped through the trees outlining the hot springs.

The slayer, having returned from her demon extermination, turned to face the newcomer with a smile. "Good afternoon, Kagome."

Kagome slid into the steaming pool of water, relishing in the slight burn against her skin. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the smooth rock behind her.

Something in her mood set Sango on edge, and she gazed at her friend curiously. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, don't be silly. Of course it is." Even Kagome could notice the too-obvious falsity in her words, and knew Sango wouldn't believe her facade. As expected, the slayer frowned and narrowed her eyes. Eager to change the subject away from her somber disposition, she asked, "I was just wondering if you've visited your village recently."

The sudden question rendered Sango speechless. Come to think of it, she hadn't returned home in quite some time; they had been too close to catching up to Naraku and didn't have the luxury to make extra stops. Now that Naraku had been defeated for good, it would give her an opportunity for proper closure since her people had been avenged – and perhaps rebuild the village to its former glory.

"No," she finally answered with a wistful smile. "I suppose not. Perhaps tomorrow would be a good time to go."

"Yeah, tomorrow," Kagome mumbled distractedly, looking up at the clear, blue sky through the treetops. She clenched her jaw as she thought about Kohaku. His life had ultimately been stolen by Naraku and the jewel, leaving Miroku as Sango's only family.

The demon slayer moved closer and tilted her head. "Something's troubling you."

Curse a girl's intuition.

Kagome sighed deeply. "I guess." Her eyes found those of her friend. "I don't know how you do it. You've lost everything: your village, your friends, your family. And yet, you still manage to smile."

Sango hung her head in acknowledgement, but shed no tears. "You're right. The pain of losing those I love will always be a heavy reminder of the past. I won't ever forget my father, or Kohaku, or any of the other villagers. But… instead of dwelling on all that I've lost, I try to be thankful for what I've gained." She lifted her gaze to the priestess. "I have a new place to call home, people whom I can call family, and a man I would lay down my life for."

Kagome nodded sympathetically. She understood where the slayer was coming from, but still found it daunting that someone could shoulder so much. "Speaking of Miroku," she said, turning their conversation in a lighter direction. "How are the wedding plans going?"

Sango rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "I think he's more concerned with having children than he is of making me an honest woman. He's unbelievable."

"Well, his family was cursed for generations. It's no wonder he's eager to continue the lineage," Kagome mentioned. "I think you should cut him some slack."

She smiled. "Yeah. I do love him, but sometimes I wish he was less of a lecher."

"Then he wouldn't be the Miroku we all know and love."

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

Kagome pondered her words for a moment before grinning. "We definitely would've lost out on quite a few humorous situations during our adventures."

"Isn't that the truth," Sango agreed with a dramatic roll of her eyes. A sudden thought caused the humor to fade from her expression, shifting seriously as she turned to fully face Kagome. "While on the subject of love and marriage, how are you and Inuyasha?"

Vulnerable to Sango's impromptu question, Kagome blushed a deep shade of crimson. "W-What do you mean?"

Sango folded her arms over her chest. "You know exactly what I mean. You and Inuyasha have grown closer, especially during the time leading up to the final battle. It's obvious to everyone that you two have feelings for each other."

She winced. "Everyone?"

The slayer scoffed. "You didn't really believe it was a secret, did you? I'm sure I've known since the day I met the both of you. There was always an undeniable chemistry between you two, and there's no doubt Inuyasha cares for you, especially with the way he's so protective."

"Maybe," Kagome replied, turning away, finding the ripples in the water from her movements more interesting.

"No, not maybe," she argued. "It's true. You need to find out how he feels about you. If you don't, you'll never be able to make a decision."

"Decision?"

"Seriously?" Sango deadpanned. "Earth to Kagome. I'm talking about your decision to return to your time on the other side of the well. I'm sure Inuyasha plays a big part in that."

Kagome glanced over her shoulder toward the trees. "Oh, I think I hear Shippou calling," she said, rising to stand.

Sango quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the hot springs. "You're being evasive."

"No, I'm not," Kagome challenged.

"Yes, you are. Kagome, I'm your friend. You can talk to me."

Kagome stared at her for a long moment, musing over Sango's statement, contemplating the speck of doubt that lingered behind reason. She surely had the correct wish in mind – she could feel it in her soul – so why did hesitation appear?

"Do you believe in fate?" she asked quietly, glancing over at the slayer. "I mean, if you're meant to be with someone, fate will bring you together no matter what?"

Sango chuckled. "Yes, I do. My answer to that perverted monk's proposal is proof enough."

She smiled, recalling the day in which Miroku asked Sango to become his wife once their battle with Naraku had come to an end. Everything had been so different then. They were constantly fighting demons, struggling to stay alive after each encounter with one of his incarnations. Now, peace had settled quietly and Kagome knew life would move forward toward a happy ending soon enough. The only problem being, it wasn't the original happily-ever-after they had hoped for.

. . . 

The sun began setting into early evening as the day wound down to an end. Kagome lay back on a grassy knoll, watching the sky while the deep oranges and reds fade to purple. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of the village folk preparing for the night, but they were far enough away not to bother her. Closing her eyes, she drew a breath full of the woodland air, letting the sounds of birds fill her ears, the melody much more welcomed than the traffic noises of her own era. Here, ten minutes seemed like a long time and so the day stretched out like a small eternity.

Kagome had a wealthy understanding that she couldn't stop bad things from happening in the world, even if she knew ahead of time they would occur. Thinking about it only made her more anxious, more fearful, but with the wish she had in mind, she knew she could at least prevent some of the bad from happening. Even at the risk of her own happiness.

In her quiet contemplation, she'd decidedly turned her thoughts elsewhere. She thought about love, the people she cherished, and everything right in her life. She felt like a higher power's whisper drifted through the trees, assuring her she had made the right choice.

The correct path is not always the easiest.

"Kagome?"

She opened her eyes and looked up, seeing Miroku towering over her. "Oh, hey."

"May I join you?" he asked with an amused smile.

She fanned her hand out beside her, offering him a spot of grass, before turning her gaze back toward the sky. They stayed quiet for a while, simply enjoying each other's company and watching as the clouds lazily moved across the expanse of magenta canvas.

"I spoke to Sango," he finally said, folding an arm beneath his head.

Kagome frowned. "About what?"

"She's concerned about you." He peered over at her hesitantly. "She fears you will do something that can't be undone."

Curious, Kagome sat up on her elbows and gazed accusingly at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Miroku sat up, holding his hands out in a manner of peace. "Please, forgive me, I'm only trying to help. With Naraku gone and the jewel in your possession, we understand you have a lot on your mind. Sango is only worried you will make a hasty decision you will later regret. And truthfully, so am I."

"I'm well aware of the weight I have on my shoulders. I understand what my duty is to the jewel and to the future of this world. I don't appreciate you thinking I'm taking this lightly."

"That's not it at all," he assured. "We're your friends, Kagome. We only want to be here to help and support you in whatever you need. Offending you was not my intention."

Honest eyes bore into hers as if trying to convince her he wasn't lying. She silently cursed herself for giving into Sango's open nature earlier. She should've known they were keeping a close eye on her, picking up on her moods and behavior now that the battle was over. But what they didn't understand was that she still had a battle to face. One she had to face alone.

Miroku had always been so genuine and honest, so she wondered why she didn't believe him now. His warm smile begged her to trust him, her heart told her he would never deceive her, but her gut warned her otherwise.

"You want to know what I plan to do," she stated bluntly, calling out his true reason for questioning her alone like this. "You're afraid I'll make a decision that benefits others with no thought of myself. Well, I hate to break it to you, but the wish on the jewel has to be selfless. I'm not allowed to think of my own feelings when it comes to this."

Or yours, for that matter.

His face shifted to one of open concern, brows furrowing. "I understand that. I simply wanted to let you know that you weren't alone in this. We can help you make a decision. We can help protect the jewel as long as it needs to be protected."

Kagome averted her gaze and ran her fingers through the grass. Miroku was a good friend. He encompassed all of the things she didn't know she needed or loved so dearly. He meant so much to her, meant so much to all of those lives he touched. How could she lie to him? How could she pretend as if everything was okay, when in truth, it was the farthest from it?

Now she understood the cold demeanor Kikyou lived with, the constant need to keep everyone at a distance. Her life was no longer her own. It was forever bound to the Shikon Jewel.

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet." She sighed, her white lie making her stomach heavy with guilt. "I don't even know what era I want to be in. Back home, I have my mom, and my brother, and my gramps. I have school to finish and friends to catch up with. I have put so much on hold in my life in order to take down Naraku and complete the jewel."

"Do you wish you had never come to this place?" Miroku asked.

"Of course not!" Kagome exclaimed, appalled he would even ask such a thing. "Everyone I've met and everything I've done… I wouldn't change it for the world. I can't imagine living without knowing of my adventures. I wouldn't be me without them."

Miroku sensed there was more to it than that, and patiently waited for her to continue.

Finally, she shook her head. "But this whole thing is so much bigger than me. How can I think of myself and what I want, when there's so much more at stake?"

"Kagome, no one can change the world in a single stroke. However, with each kind deed you've done during your time with us, you've made all the difference to the world. I feel blessed to have known you. You deserve happiness, too." He smiled.

Kagome turned away shyly, blushing at his praise. "Thank you. I just feel as if there's more that I could do."

"What's done is done," he said softly, climbing to his feet. "No one can change the past. We can only work to protect the future from our prior mistakes. Besides, with Naraku gone, I don't foresee anything detrimental happening anytime soon."

"I hope you're right," she mumbled, pulling her knees into her chest.

He held out his hand. "Now, shall we head back to Kaede's for supper?"

Kagome shook her head. "You go on ahead. I'll catch up."

Miroku nodded and took his leave, but a little ways down the hill, he stopped and glanced back at the time-traveling priestess. She sat staring up into the sunset sky, her obsidian hair blowing gently in the breeze. She had a kind of understated beauty. Perhaps it was because she was so disarmingly unaware of her prettiness and flawless, pale skin. She made things simple and easy, helping those around her to relax and be happy with what they had. Perhaps that was what caused her skin to glow. Her inner beauty lit her eyes and softened her features. To be in her company made a person feel that they too were someone, that they had been warmed in summer rays regardless of the season.

However, a sinking feeling formed in the pit of his gut. Not understanding why, Miroku had a sneaking suspicion that her rays wouldn't be there to warm them when the winter months approached. Something in his heart told him that she had made a decision that would change everything. And he knew. He knew that this would be the last time he saw Kagome Higurashi – that fiery young priestess from the future.

Exhaling deeply, and praying his conjecture was wrong, Miroku turned and continued toward Kaede's hut.

. . . 

Long shadows of the evening dissolved into the gathering darkness of nighttime. The air cooled and the cicadas sang. A canopy of luminous stars materialized amongst the ocean of blackness. Some were dull, merely flickering into existence every now and then, but a collection of shimmering stars illuminated the dark, half-moon night. The lake glistened, mirroring the dazzling assemblage of glittering stars and the incandescence from the campfire glowed merrily beside it. Faint wind brushed against the water's surface, the ripples ruffling the stillness, and shattering the reflection of the sky.

Brown eyes turned toward Inuyasha's forest, the place in which this whirlwind of a fairytale began. There Kagome had stumbled upon this other world through an old well and had met her half-demon for the first time, pinned to the Goshinboku.

The woods always looked different at night. Everything had an unfamiliar slant to it, as if the daytime trees and flowers and stones had gone to bed and sent slightly more ominous versions to take their place. The forest became dark and uninviting, but she knew it was the safest place she could ever be.

Kagome sighed, curling her arms around her bent knees and resting her chin upon them. The fire beside her kept away the night chill, but did nothing to aid the cold that beat within her chest. Time had passed by so quickly. She dreaded what would occur in the next hour, but she knew she couldn't avoid it.

She felt like a prodigious courage pushed inside her, demanding her to be brave and strong during this climax. The decision final, she refused to change her mind, trusting that fate would take care of the rest. It had to.

"Kagome?"

Footsteps fell upon the grass and she knew who had come to find her. She took a deep breath and looked up, her gaze falling on amber eyes full of concern.

"Hey, Inuyasha." Kagome smiled meekly.

He sat down beside her, crossing his legs and sliding his hands into his sleeves. He regarded the lake for a moment, ears twitching anxiously upon his head, silver hair shifting in the breeze, brushing lightly against his cheek.

Kagome worried her bottom lip. What would she tell him? What would she say to him during what would most likely be their final conversation?

"What's bugging you?" he asked frankly, sliding his gaze toward her.

"What makes you think something's bothering me?"

He frowned. "I'm not stupid. You've been sad and moody all day."

"It's not a big deal." She shrugged.

"It is a big deal. Naraku is dead. You should be happy."

"I am happy." She smiled. "I'm glad that it's finally over."

Inuyasha's ears flattened against his head, pausing, words suddenly unnecessary. One look in his eyes spoke volumes. Sorrow dwelled in his gaze as clear as if he'd spoken his thoughts and emotions aloud.

"You're going home, aren't you?" He said, finally acknowledging what he'd been dreading. "To your own time."

"What? Is that what you think?" She grimaced.

He turned away. "What else is left for you here? What reason do you have to stay?"

"Inuyasha, I have every reason to stay," she proclaimed, giving a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I have my best friends here. I feel as if I make a difference. Not to mention I have so much more to learn from Kaede."

"Keh, I guess so," he grumbled.

Kagome placed a hand on his shoulder. "Most importantly, I have you."

Dark brows furrowed and his lips parted. He turned wide eyes in her direction. "Me?" he echoed, unsure, even with his sensitive hearing, if he had heard her correctly.

"Of course. You are the most important person in my life. Haven't you realized that?" Kagome giggled.

He frowned, contemplating her words as she scooted closer to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. A heated blush rose in his cheeks as he averted his gaze, embarrassed, as always, by her show of affection.

"I don't ever want to leave here," she continued, looking up at the stars. "This is home for me."

"You mean, you want to stay?"

"Yeah, I do." She lifted her head to look at him. "I want to stay with you, Inuyasha."

"Then, why do you look so sad?" He swallowed, apprehensive.

"Like I said, it doesn't matter. I just want to enjoy tonight," she dismissed.

"All right," he growled, fed up, turning smoldering amber eyes on her. "You're really starting to piss me off."

Surprised, she knitted her brows and shifted away from him. "Inuyasha?"

"All of this talk about wanting to stay, but you still look so damn sad, Kagome. Why? What is making you so upset?"

"Drop it already, would you?" she shouted, jumping to her feet, tears welling in her eyes.

"No," he defiantly refused, standing up beside her and pointing at her accusingly. "Something's up, Kagome. I'm not lettin' you off the hook that easily."

She spun on her heel, ready to run from his barrage of questions, to run from the truth eating her up inside. A clawed hand reached out and grabbed her gently, pulling her toward him. "Damn it, woman! Just talk to me!"

Kagome bit her lip, considering her next move. If she told him the truth, she would never be able to go through with it. He wouldn't let her. So, there was really only one thing left to do, only one thing left to say.

Slowly, she turned to face him. She sniffled and took a deep breath, fingering the glowing pink jewel that hung around the column of her throat. "The Shikon Jewel has caused so much pain," Kagome whispered.

"Is that what this is about?" Inuyasha questioned, releasing her and clenching his hands into fists at his side. "Kagome, you don't have to make a wish. We'll protect it for as long as we need to."

She shook her head vigorously. "No, you don't understand. As long as the jewel exists, there will be pain and suffering. A wish has to be made."

"Then what's the problem?" He frowned.

Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around his waist in an unexpected embrace. Pink dusted his cheeks, his eyes wide with surprise before he hesitantly returned the gesture, holding her firmly against him, still frustrated with her evasive answers.

The tears flowed unchecked down Kagome's cheeks and dripped from her chin into his robe of the fire rat. Too sad to cry out or wail, she just stood there as still as a statue while the magnitude of her loss swept over her. She became lost in the vortex of the moment, and she knew that she would be forever tormented by a past that could not be undone.

Taking a deep breath and drawing forth every ounce of courage she could find, she pulled away and gazed up at him. She took in every detail: the wash of concern showing in his clear, luminous, warm, amber eyes, the tufts of silver dog-ears she loved so much, twitching upon his head, his furrowed black brows and frowning lips. She breathed in his scent, the forest mixed with the charcoal remains of a campfire. She listened as he breathed deeply, feeling his breath tickle her cheek. She felt the warmth of his embrace as he tightened his hold on her.

He happened to be everything she never knew she wanted. He was brash, arrogant, and stubborn, but he became hers. And now it was time to give him up, to trust that fate would one day bring them together again. Her heart accelerated, almost beating right out of her chest as her stomach filled with wild butterflies, and she prayed to every spiritual being that her voice would not escape her.

"Kagome?" he murmured, his eyes questioning.

"I love you," Kagome whispered, her words almost lost in the soft breeze. "I love you, Inuyasha. I have for a long time."

She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard. He seemed at a loss for words, but she'd expected that. He never was one to voice his feelings, and she knew that not long ago he had lost Kikyou. He probably wasn't ready to commit to her.

Smiling, she stepped away, out of his grasp. "I just needed you to know that. I just needed you to understand how much I care for you."

"Kagome, wait," He reached for her, desperation growing. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"A wish has to be made," she repeated, clasping her hands around the jewel and holding it to her chest. "This is the way it has to be."

His eyes turned wide, fearful, and he stormed toward her. "Wait, Kagome!"

She closed her eyes, pressed her lips close to the jewel, and whispered, "I wish Naraku had never been born."

For a brief moment, the world stopped spinning. She could feel her blood rushing through her veins as her heart pounded erratically in her ears. Inuyasha's terrified expression stayed with her as he rushed forward, hoping to undo what had already been done. But it was too late.

A flurry of pink light burst forth from the jewel, enshrouding them completely.