#because the power to fix your mistakes is the most tempting thing she can imagine

[dreamofbecoming]

current mood: thinking about the unbearable tragedy of lucretia tazbalance

#the way the temporal chalice is the only relic she warns them about #because the power to fix your mistakes is the most tempting thing she can imagine #they way she has to beg her dearest friends not to give into what she knows magnus made with love and hope #the way she looks her beloved brother in the eye and tells him she didn’t have enough faith in him #and that it cost her their family #and has to live with the fact that he just nods along without a hint of recognition #the fact that he still cares for her and supports her and is proud of her even without their history #and she just has to live with that because she can’t go back no matter how much she wants to #i’m onto the rest&relaxation interlude/the eleventh hour today can you tell #god i just have so many fucking feelings about her #all the wrong choices for all the right reasons #taz balance

[dennou-translations]

Violet Evergarden: Booklet 3

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At that moment, I found myself thinking, “Aah, maybe if I disappeared, if I vanished right now, nobody would notice.”

Once I thought this, I could no longer think of anything else.

Before I realized, my hands and feet had moved. I slowly moved my whole body and left that place behind.

Nobody called for. Nobody tried to stop me.

Which was why I was now hiding. I was in a corner of a maze of roses in the royal palace of this forest kingdom.

I looked up at the sky. It was overcast. The air was a little heavy, so there was a chance of rain.

Was anyone looking for me by now? No, they might not have noticed. I could bet a hundred of Drossel’s white camellias that they hadn’t. “That wouldn’t be a bet,” someone said from within my mind.

——What will happen to me if I just stay here like this?

I tried to think calmly. Firstly, I would get hungry. My body would get bitten by insects. The sky was looking shady, so rain might come pouring down on me. I would get a fever from the cold, and then... and then... and then...

The power of my imagination was scarce, so the scenario ended there.

Stretching out my dress’s sleeves and removing my long gloves, I plucked the grass with a bare hand. Picking up some rose petals that had fallen to the ground, I threw them into the air even though they would not fly too far. I looked almost like a child trying to contain her bad mood. Most likely, if anyone saw me, they would wonder what on earth the queen of Fluegel was doing.

Why had I grown up to be like this? All I ever did was think big of small matters and be in a state of chaos. It was such a weak mindset, which people most likely wouldn’t expect to come from someone born in a family that was meant to rule a country.

“Members of the royal family are actually not supposed to expose their original selves. Under no circumstance should you forget that you must act with dignity and be a role model to your subjects.”

Even though I had already become a wife, I behaved like a little girl.

“However...”

I had experienced a romance like the ones that young girls dream with.

“...from my long time working in the court...”

I fell in love and won my beloved lord over.

“...these have been the most memorable Public Love Letters. Yes... in a good sense.”

After running and running, I was now living the aftermath of that.

My name is Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel. Already a year had passed ever since I married off to Fluegel.

   Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel and the Forest Kingdom

   Drossel and Fluegel – no matter what could happen to these two nations in the future, they had me as their intermediary princess. If I happened to die in this rose labyrinth without anybody ever finding me, I wanted someone to remember that.

As to why things had turned out like this, I’d have to rewind my life a little to explain. I had to mix up the cauldron of time that made the hours pass.

How far back was I supposed to go?

That beautiful golden-haired girl. My favorite. The ghostwriter who had become a mediator for my romance.

Rewinding to the times of Violet Evergarden’s Public Love Letters would be going back too far. It should be a bit later. Perhaps the appropriate would be around the time when I, who was once the third princess of Drossel – that beautiful country where white camellias bloomed in copious amounts –, went away and changed my surname. Yes, right, that was adequate enough.

Fluegel was a neighboring country of prosperous forestry. I was married to the man who had the priority rights to succeeding its throne. Letting go of everything that I had cherished until then, I married off.

I had transformed from a girl into an adult. Although my appearance hadn’t changed much, that was my status.

My husband was Damian Baldur Fluegel. He was the person who possessed the rights of succession as the next monarch at the beginning of our marriage, but a few days ago, he had inherited the throne from his father and become a king both in name and reality. In other words, I had become the queen as well.

Probably the worst queen in history. After all, I had run away.

   Let me try to trace the rewound time with exact precision.

Fluegel’s capital was a city of fresh greenery, which had a castle erected in the depths of a forest. Said royal palace couldn’t be considered sturdy or showy, but it was in perfect harmony with the nature, endowed with a calculated beauty. Unlike Drossel, a country that maintained itself through the tourism industry, Fluegel had much of its national interest shouldered by its forestry. Drossel’s national flower was the white camellia, while Fluegel’s was the red rose.

The two countries were separated by a large river, but one would be tempted to wonder how they could be so different.

Differences were by no means a bad thing. After all, Lord Damian and I had met because we had been raised in such different cultures. That was exactly why I became attracted to Lord Damian’s… albeit artless, uninhibited personality, which was so unlike that of the royals from Drossel and other nations...

Yes, “differences” were not bad. But the so-called “differences”... how should I put it? When they weren’t tolerated, instead viewed as an absence of profits and effort, they would turn into a really bad thing.

Most likely, that was what made me the way I was now.

Was this an excuse? It might be. But that was how it was. That was it.

At first, my life in Fluegel didn’t go well.

Becoming used to even small differences in habit was extremely difficult for me, which caused the chamberlain to sigh often. He was someone who deserved respect for having taken care of Lord Damian’s personal matters for quite a long time.

There was no mistaking that I was in a position higher than his, but I soon understood that he looked down on me. One could tell as much by things such as the movements of the other’s eyes and their attitude.

The chamberlain would tell me: “That is not the way we do it in Fluegel”, “This is for your protection. You will be criticized otherwise. Now, fix yourself up”, “I have said this several times, but...”

I didn’t think I was some idiot. I believed myself to be the kind of girl who could do well if I put my mind into it. But I had to admit that I was a very unstable crybaby.

The differences such as the ones that the chamberlain talked about were, for example, the order in which people were seated at meals, how to lift my dress when hopping into a carriage, and other minute details like that. If I were told such things back in Drossel, I was positive that I could internalize it in the first try. After that, I definitely wouldn’t repeat the mistake. But the moment I tried to do it in this foreign country that I wasn’t familiar with, being watched by the monitoring eyes of someone that didn’t have me in his favor, I ended up failing. It was almost as if I were inducing the failure on my own. What was this phenomenon?

The chamberlain most likely knew this as well. He knew it, and even then he would sigh and speak in a detached manner while watching me go pale. There was nothing good in it for either of us, yet we would find ourselves repeating this vicious cycle.

To be honest, we were so incapable of getting along that the desire to jump off from one of the Fluegel castle’s windows as retaliation surged from within me. However, I had no choice but to keep going. Because I was a newcomer and that person was an elder.

If I didn’t get used to this, it would be the end of me.

Right, and there was also the tea party. The flow of the Cauldron of Time had finally returned to the present.

It all had begun… from the chamberlain suggesting that if I, who had become the queen, held a tea party, I would certainly make myself known as someone who shines like the stars in the night sky. He gave a long speech about my authority as a queen being this and that. That detestable chamberlain.

I did like tea parties, but even after being in Fluegel for a year, I wasn’t able to find myself anyone that I could consider close to me, so I frankly didn’t like the idea. I hadn’t gotten myself anyone to be on friendly terms with, so rather than a display of my power, wouldn’t this be deemed as more of a public execution for me?

Ever since I had arrived here, I was in the position of a foreign princess who had a political marriage with Lord Damian, so both the royal family that I had joined and the people who took care of me were somewhat distant… To make things worse, I was the very person who had tainted the traditional event of the Public Love Letters. People were wary of me as an unprecedented princess.

I had seen that Fluegel had a liberal aspect to it and wasn’t too bound by formalities in comparison to Drossel, but when it came to the royal family, that was a different story.

Whenever I passed the corridors of the royal palace, I could hear one name being whispered. Everyone would have faint smiles on their faces. “Baby Princess” was what they called me.

The one who came up with it was Lord Damian’s younger sister or something. Indeed, I had childish facial features and I was the girl who had married for love, so there was no helping that I would be mocked like this.

Receiving a nickname and having it made into a title meant that it was ingrained in people. Once a knight earned himself an alias, others would expect him to have a conduct that was worthy of it. In that same manner, no matter what I, Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel, might say… I lived in Fluegel as the princess whom everyone would giggle at.

Whenever I made a mistake, “it’s because she’s a child”. If I happened to rush towards Lord Damian, “it’s because she’s a child”. Whenever I said anything, “it’s because she’s a child”.

If there was some magic spell that could turn me into a twenty-year-old right now, I would have taken it. It’d be great if I could instantly grab ahold of my dignity in a way that nobody would complain. But that was something that people had to be awarded to through the years, along with their efforts...

I might have been the Baby Princess today as well – the day of the tea party.

The chamberlain was in awfully high spirits, which one way or another was an omen for misfortune. I was watching from my bedroom as the elderly man briskly instructed the people around him.

From the room where I stayed with Lord Damian, I could see the castle’s garden, the rose maze that started from the garden’s entrance veering to the side, and the castle town. Back when we had just married, we used to often gaze outside the window together, but now we couldn’t even talk for more than five minutes.

Ever since succeeding the throne, Lord Damian was truly busy. He would be working while I waited for him in our room; by the time that I woke up, he would be by my side without me having realized it; as I stretched the creases that formed between his eyebrows while he was dreaming, he would wake up all of a sudden and then head off to the royal office again.

I was depressed since morning, because why did I have to hold a tea party while my husband was working so indiscriminately? But, well, this was also part of my duties. It was important for me to mingle with other women from a social status similar to mine. The trust earned from them would help not just me but also Lord Damian.

Those who controlled factions also had control of politics. Yes, yes, I knew that much. I had to do this exactly because things weren’t going well. In order to level up my speech skills, I had to start from taking up a stance. As my position was becoming worse, if I could get around here well, I would increase my authority in the royal territory without having to recreate myself.

I understood the reasoning behind this. What the chamberlain said was correct. He was implicitly telling me to do right, and I was the one at fault for not managing it...

The tea party was held in the garden outside at the arranged time.

There were people that I hadn’t seen ever since my wedding ceremony, whom I greeted while turning my head around at an incredible speed. Whenever someone sprinkled the subject of political affairs here and there, I’d throw it back at them with a smile, literally tearing apart and flinging away whatever came at me on repeat. Although the scene actually looked like a peaceful conversation, under the surface, I, the queen, was being evaluated, so this was a battle.

I thought I had done a really strenuous effort up until the middle of it. Instilling the impression that “My, so maybe the Baby Princess isn’t a bad person and is surprisingly smart when she talks?” was quite a success. The signs that I could make them deem me as worthy of standing by Lord Damian’s side were becoming visible. However, the very moment that Her Highness, the King’s young her sister, appeared in the tea party, everything I had set up crumbled down at once.

She was pretty late from the scheduled time – rather, she suddenly showed up when it was already ending.

Although she was close to me in age, she had a very adult appearance and was an awfully beautiful person. Renowned as one of Fluegel’s talented women, she was also involved with the National Assembly, and told us that she had rushed over because the meeting had ended just now. I had not yet been allowed to attend the meetings even though I was the queen, so I was terribly jealous... and a little miserable.

Of course, whatever had been discussed there became the topic, which Her Highness told the women present, explaining in a simplified manner. What a wonderful person she was.

Regardless, it felt like this was going to end as Her Highness’s tea party, even though it was mine. Well, that was okay too. Rather, it might be easier if there was someone to take the initiative to talk like this. I had a bug where I couldn’t speak very well to people whom I wasn’t close to, so I decided to leave it to her.

Despite this being a tea party, I hadn’t eaten anything, so I had the feeling that I would get hungry in the evening. I wondered what we would have for dinner.

Just like that, half of my soul disappeared somewhere else, so I didn’t notice that the subject had changed from state affairs to the next successor to the throne.

“Queen, are you listening? If things continue the way they are, there will be no helping it if a concubine is appointed.”

Since I hadn’t noticed it, I couldn’t react right away, even as I took the tremendous brutality of those words to the face. This had happened just a moment ago, so I didn’t remember very well what kind of reaction I’d had. I had the feeling that I had responded with a somewhat sluggish reply such as “aah” or “eeh”... much like the way that living creatures cried for the first time upon being born.

I could immediately tell that Her Highness wasn’t satisfied with my answer.

“It is because you are so laidback like this that the King has to fight the national affairs alone. You still intend to be here as a guest, not doing what you have to do, so everyone has to hold back and nobody can speak up their opinions. Talk more. Be more useful to the country. Most important of all, it has already been a year, yet nothing has been reported to us. Are you seriously discussing the succession with the King? If this goes on, someone will suggest a concubine for him.”

With such words thrown at me in sequence, I—I had... I had a thought. That perhaps she was trying to make me lose heart. Wasn’t I being attacked right now?

I looked around. Nobody attempted to open their mouths in order to defend me. There was no one. I had no one.

All of them were waiting for my reaction.

I knew this situation. I knew it very well. I wasn’t being treated as a person at the moment. My personality was being denied as well. The dignity that should be granted to the human being named Charlotte wasn’t being taken into account.

However, I didn’t break. Why?

Because I was used to being neglected.

“Yes, I am truly doing a poor job. I believe it is as you say.”

I was smiling.

“However, it has not yet been decided what will be my part of the work and what will be the King’s, as we are in the process of deciding on it as a couple.”

I was smiling mockingly.

“Now that I have talked to all of you like this, I have concluded I should propose my thoughts to the parliament slowly, little by little.”

I was... smiling.

“I was the princess of my country. But now, I am the queen of Fluegel. I did not intend to be here in the position of guest, but it is true that I was restraining myself. But is that not the same for all of you? I am aware. Everyone has been... well, surrounding me from a distance and looking after me. I was fretting, as it would have been better for you to tell me more directly if there was anything wrong... By all means, I would like to have a frank exchange of opinions with you in the future... and I hope that we can help each other... as fellow women.”

This was laughable.

Her Highness was appalled. So was everyone else. She must have spoken so conflictingly due to thinking that it was sure to make me start crying.

I wanted her to stop saying such stupid things. I was the former third princess of Drossel. Did she know what kind of country that was? It was a country where it was okay for women to become political tools. We were by no means granted the position to act freely like she did. As the shadows so-called “women”, we had no choice but earnestly do whatever we could.

I was born in a country were women were consumed and worn down. To top it off, I had been raised mostly by courtiers, away from my biological parents. I hadn’t seen my mother in forever.

Exhausted as a result of her marriage of convenience, Mother had Father build her a palace and secluded herself in it all day long every day. She did show up at the wedding ceremony, but she hadn’t even sent me a single letter after I had married off. She had probably already forgotten that she had given birth to me.

But that was the country I had been born in. I had been raised by one of this country’s strong women – a carefully selected, tough woman. This person patiently educated me, even though my aptitude wasn’t good. She explained things to me over and over again. She scolded me a lot. She taught me so that I would be able to marry anyone and live anywhere. She had also predicted that a situation like this might happen. So she told me how to act during a quarrel with other women.

That was why I smiled at times like these.

My looks weren’t bad. I was no idiot. I knew what effects I would bring about if I smiled. There was little that I could do, but I was going to be the one firing the best shot here.

I was a crybaby. I was a weakling. I was lonely.

However, I had been taught well. No matter what, I couldn’t lose in times like these. I knew that much.

I had been protected through the erasure of my personality.

   That day’s tea party was over right then, and thanks to the chamberlain saying that it would soon be time to bring it to a close, it ended well.

At a later date, my feud or whatever with Her Highness would become a rumor around the royal palace, but that was a story of the future. In any case, it was over for now. Therefore, I was extremely relieved.

The chamberlain let me return to my room unusually early and consoled me with a “you must be tired”. “You were excellent today,” he told me. Enveloping my shaky palms in his hands, which had wrinkles just like Alberta’s, he warmed them up. “No matter what happens, do not forget that you have one ally,” he said.

From that, I understood a little something. That he, indeed, worried about me in his own way. I wasn’t fond of his way of doing things, but he had struggled as much as he could in order to do something to improve my position.

He had seen what I had gone through today, so he was commending my brave fight. I had been subjected to violence today. I had been told such terrible things. Even though I—I...

I was in love with Lord Damian.

Both Drossel and Fluegel were aware of this. The citizens of both kingdoms knew it. And yet, aah, how embarrassing. But everyone knew.

I was in love with that person. I was in love.

“You have not sired a child after a year, so there might be need for a concubine. Therefore, if such a woman appears, you should accept it,” she said, despite knowing how much it would hurt me.

I was told off. I was told off by the younger sister of the object of my affections. That was what she said to me.

“Thank you, but please, let me be alone.”

I still managed to keep my smile up, but as soon as I drove the chamberlain out of the room, the tears overflowed torrentially and I couldn’t stop them.

There should be things more painful than that out there in the world. I looked like a fool for crying because of something like this. But right now, I was feeling like the most pitiful person in the world. I wanted to return to Drossel. I wanted to go home to Drossel.

No, that wasn’t it. No, that wasn’t it. No, that wasn’t it.

I wanted to go back to the person who would always allowed me to cry, no matter how much I did so. The person who would stay by my side.

“Alberta...”

I wanted to go back to Alberta.

I knew it was stupid of me. But when I thought that a day might come when Lord Damian, my husband – the object of my affections –, would take another woman aside from me, it was so painful. My chest hurt – it hurt so much that it was hard to breathe. So I couldn’t contain my cries.

I wondered what had gone wrong.

Was it because I had started clamming up, since the chamberlain would always hammer me down by saying, “That kind of unheard-of behavior is not allowed here”, so I couldn’t speak the way I wanted to? Or was it because I was late to find out that not assertively addressing the royal family was bad manners, since I was in a position where I had to wait for people to talk to me first back in Drossel?

Perhaps it was everything.

Apparently, Fluegel hadn’t taken in a princess from abroad in the last sixty years, so maybe it was already difficult for them to accept a foreign object like me in the first place. Things would probably have been different if I were a great woman – yes, a woman like Her Highness –, yet I had nothing but tears. Still, was I such a horrible person that I had to be told such things?

Aah, nothing – just nothing. Nothing was working out. It might be that nothing would go well from now on too.

This thought swiftly made its way into my heart.

All of a sudden, I was able to clearly hear the sounds around me. The noises of someone walking, the whistling of the wind outside, my own breathing. The way that the tears fell down as they dripped from my eyelashes, the way that I was suddenly looking at myself in a holistic manner.

Yes, perhaps things would never work out from now onward. If so, then...

Then, shouldn’t I run away?

Several questions – such as to where, with whom and to do what – came to me, but I ignored them. I had probably broken down at that point.

I dropped my own heart, which I had been cherishing as much as possible in order for it not to break, onto my feet. I had the feeling that I heard a clank when doing so.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

If so, then no matter how much I exerted myself, it would be useless.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

I had to run off to somewhere.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

Nobody was going to protect me.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

After all, this was a foreign country and Alberta wasn’t here. The only one who could protect me was...

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

The only one who could protect me was myself.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

I had to run away.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

I had to run.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

If I stayed here like this, I... I might seriously jump off the window.

Once I thought this, I somehow felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore. When I came to my senses, I had left the room.

The courtiers were busy cleaning up the tea party in the garden. The chamberlain had also gone outside in order to instruct them. If I came out of the room without making any sounds, nobody would chase after me right away. When I went into the corridor, there was a soldier, but he was only meant to see whoever entered and exited the place and wouldn’t follow me since he wasn’t my bodyguard.

If it was now, perhaps no one would notice if I disappeared – if I happened to vanish. Once I thought this, I could no longer think of anything else.

Before I realized, my hands and feet had moved. I slowly moved my whole body and left that place behind.

I continued down the stairs and trotted through a passage that relatively few people used. Even then, I did pass by some people, but they didn’t seem to pay any mind to me. To begin with, they might not even have the conceptualization that the queen was running through the halls alone.

It wasn’t like I wanted someone to call for me. However, no one did. No one tried to stop me.

Which was why I was now hiding. I was in a corner of a maze of roses in the royal palace of this forest kingdom.

I looked up at the sky. It was overcast. The air was a little heavy, so there was a chance of rain.

Was anyone looking for me by now? No, they might not have noticed. I could bet a hundred of Drossel’s white camellias that they hadn’t. “That wouldn’t be a bet,” someone said from within my mind.

——What will happen to me if I just stay here like this?

I tried to think calmly. Firstly, I would get hungry. My body would get bitten by insects. The sky was looking shady, so rain might come pouring down on me. I would get a fever from the cold, and then... and then... and then...

The power of my imagination was scarce, so the scenario ended there.

Stretching out my dress’s sleeves and removing my long gloves, I plucked the grass with a bare hand. Picking up some rose petals that had fallen to the ground, I threw them into the air even though they would not fly too far. I looked almost like a child trying to contain her bad mood. Most likely, if anyone saw me, they would wonder what on earth the queen of Fluegel was doing.

Why had I grown up to be like this? All I ever did was think big of small matters and be in a state of chaos.

This wasn’t the married life I had envisioned. I did think there would be hardships, but – how should I put it? – I thought they would be rather different. I thought they would be something easier to grasp.

I honestly didn’t know what I was fighting against. Her Highness probably hated my guts, but if I were asked whether she was my enemy, I would say she wasn’t, and I wasn’t mistaken about that. I did think she was cruel, though.

What was I fighting against? What was I scared of? I kept on being intimidated by vague things that I didn’t understand very well and shutting off my typical behavior, and while I was so frightened, my evaluation from the people around me declined, thus I had come to the point of fleeing.

What was I fighting against? Why was I fighting? Why was I...

Why?

Why was I all by myself right now?

   After that, I cried myself to exhaustion and fell asleep. Perhaps it was an extremely deep sleep, as I didn’t wake up even when night fell. Nobody realized that I was gone, so there was no ruckus over it.

Therefore, I was able to stay asleep forever.

While sleeping, I had a dream. I dreamed with the people of Drossel. Also, Violet – she appeared in it too. My favorite girl.

She looked at me as I cried and said, just like before, “You are such a crybaby.” She also said, “I would like to cease your tears, but I do not have a handkerchief with me.”

I told her that I didn’t need one and hugged her, asking her to stay by my side instead.

I realized that, while I was crying on Violet’s chest, she had turned into Alberta. When I thought, “It’s Alberta”, the tears overflowed even harder.

I appealed to Alberta. No matter what I said, no one listened to it seriously. No matter what I said, people would make faces, as if poking fun at me. No matter what I said, my situation never improved. No matter who I looked at, nobody would help me. No matter who I looked at, nobody was my ally. No matter where I searched, you wouldn’t be there. No matter where I searched, you wouldn’t be there. No matter where I searched, you... you... you...

“It’s because you’re not here, Alberta, that I’m so very weak.”

Even a crybaby like me would be able to act high and mighty if you were there. I would’ve been able to maintain my dignity as a princess. But now I was everyone’s bootlicker. This wasn’t me.

That was why my heart broke and, yes, I dropped it on the floor.

“Alberta, did you not see my heart somewhere around here? I need it... I need it...”

If I didn’t have it with me, Lord Damian would—

   “Were you waiting for me to search for you?” a husky voice whispered.

That was when I woke up.

Just like that one time, the Full Moon was looming over the night sky. The stars and moon were so beautiful in the blooming season of roses.

In a dreamy state of mind, I blinked. The tears spilled again. When my husband saw me weeping, he embraced me as if to hide me from the night sky.

“I will report to the soldiers that she has been found.”

“I don’t want any fuss. Leave us for a while.”

When I heard the voice of the chamberlain as well, my consciousness finally returned to reality. He had said “soldiers”. This might have turned into a big deal. But right now, I didn’t think it would be too scary even if my heart were destroyed. “Is that so,” was all I thought.

This marriage might really be done for now.

Once Lord Damian shooed him, he put his coat over me and crouched down. He gripped my hand, guiding me and carrying me in bridal style.

“This makes me look like a child.”

“No. You’re my wife, aren’t you? And a princess.”

There wasn’t anything else I wanted to do, so I just nodded and did as I was told.

The two of us went through the maze of roses. There was probably someone watching over us. The light of a lantern swayed in the distance as a guide.

“Do you want to divorce from me?” Lord Damian muttered out of the blue with a quivering voice, leaving me in shock. I didn’t understand very well what he was saying.

“Lord Damian, if you want to do so...”

“That’s not it, Charlotte. I don’t want to break up with you... but I was wondering... if you might be thinking of doing that, right now...”

I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

“Ralph, the chamberlain... has been telling me all this time. That if I were to take the hand of a princess from another country for the first time in sixty years, there would definitely be criticism. He told me to make sure to protect you when the time came.”

What was he saying?

“At first, I thought I was nailing it. I stayed by your side, so that no one could even try to say anything inappropriate to you...”

What was he... saying?

“But then I had to succeed the throne... there were tons of responsibilities stacked up in front of me, and I started looking only at those stacks... I didn’t even realize that you were in such a painful spot. It’s not your fault. I’m the one who isn’t ruling the country right, and for some reason, that’s being taken out on you. Stupid, isn’t it? It’s ridiculous. Everyone thinks it’s okay to do this to you just because you’re an outsider.”

——You’re not the one to blame. I’m aware of my own defects too.

“I also heard about what happened today. It seems you acted dauntless, even though my sister said something truly foolish to you...”

——You’re not the one to blame. Lord Damian. I know it. I know that you look sour every night when you sleep. You’re doing your very best. You’re doing your best every day – every single day. I know that. You may be ten years older than me, but you’re also...

“I’m... I’m pathetic. It’s fine if you complain. Yet you haven’t uttered a single grumble to me until now. Not to Ralph, either. We basked in the fact that you were holding back and nobody took notice of it. And so, we cornered you. Until you ran away, just like that.”

——You’re also still so young.

“I’m... pathetic... I cornered my own wife...”

——So lost, so scared.

“...to the point that she ran away... barefoot.”

——And shaking.

“Charlotte, have you come to hate me already?”

——Aah, Lord Damian. So you cry too, huh. For some reason, I used to think that you didn’t shed tears. I wonder why. You were a moonlit prince for me, so I thought you didn’t cry. But I see. That’s right, even you...

“I like you. I want to stop your tears.”

——Even you have a crybaby side.

After Lord Damian had said so, I realized for the first time that I was barefoot. I had the feeling that I was wearing shoes when I left the room – I wondered what had happened. He told me that someone had looked for and retrieved them. For how long had they been searching for me? If it was enough to make this man cry, then they must have searched everywhere.

Needless to say, I was such a handful of a woman. However, my heart, which had broken apart and scattered away, began setting itself in motion little by little. I could feel it regaining its warmth.

The reason might be that, for the first time ever since I had married him, we had now finally become a couple.

He asked me if I had anything that I wanted to do or that I wanted him to do. I told him that I wanted to see Alberta. He told me that he understood. He then asked if there was anything else, and so, I told him something that everyone had laughed at. We were had gone through a lot to be married, so I wanted to do something for both of our countries. I proposed that we build an orphanage near the national borders. Lord Damian didn’t laugh. He told me it would be great.

“Let’s think things out together. I regret not talking about this before because I thought it might be a burden to you. From now on, let’s have proper talks, the two of us. About happy things, sad things, painful things. I want you to talk to me. And I also want you to listen to me,” he said. He then kept on asking if there was anything else...

Lastly, I asked him to lock me up in the palace if he ever found himself a concubine. He got angry, saying he would never have one. We couldn’t be sure. It seemed we had no knack for child making. A concubine might be necessary. Lord Damian said that even then, he didn’t want one.

And then... And then... And then... What was it again?

I buried my face into Lord Damian’s neck. It had his scent, which always made my heart race whenever I sensed it.

“Hey, maybe I want to kiss you right now. My face is a mess because I cried a lot, though. Would you do it even with a wife like this?” I asked.

Lord Damian laughed while crying. “Even if you cry, you’re my lovely wife. Of course I’d do it.”

Overjoyed at these words, I shed warm tears.

When we kissed, as expected, it was a bit salty. My heart throbbed.

“I’m still in love with you, but what about you?” I asked, making sure to sound as if any answer would be fine.

Unsurprisingly, Lord Damian continued making a tearful face. “I actually only fell for you after we got married. So my heart’s beating really fast right now.”

“I see. So our feelings are mutual. That’s amazing,” I said, impressed.

“Then, what did you think it was until now?” he asked.

“A one-sided love,” I answered sincerely.

“Don’t you hear when I tell you that I love you every morning before I leave our room?”

“I do, but I thought it was some sort of flattery...”

“I’m not such a pro at that. When I like something, all I can say is that I like it. I’m very honest. You found that out on your tenth birthday, right?”

“How nostalgic... I’ve been in love with you all this time since then.”

I was living the aftermath of that story. I didn’t know whether it was a happy or sad one. But I would live, live and live. And this would probably go on forever. I was on my own in this royal palace.

But I wasn’t all alone.

“Damian, do you love me?”

“I do, Charlotte.”

I was living here, in this forest kingdom.

#violet evergarden #veedit #fyeahvioletevergarden #charlotte abelfreyja drossel #charlotte abelfreya fluegel #kyoani #kyoto animation #damian baldur fluegel #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #novel #my translation #violet evergarden booklets #charlotte abelfreya fluegel to mori no oukoku #charlotte abelfreya fluegel and the forest kingdom

[nanowrimo]

5 Tips for Finishing Your Novel

April’s session of Camp NaNoWriMo is drawing to a close, and you might find yourself nearing the end of your novel. If you need some tips on writing and polishing the ending of your story, author Derek Murphy is here to share a few! Plus, you can check out the rest of our novel-finishing resources on our #NaNoFinMo page. 

You won NaNoWriMo and have a 50k collection of scenes and sentences, but how do you clean it up and get it done? How do you make sure it’s finished, satisfying and enjoyable? Here are 5 powerful strategies for finishing your novel and some helpful writing tips that will push you past the finish line.

1. Give it a satisfying resolution.

In order to have a powerful story, your book should probably focus on a main character’s change or transformation. There’s an inner war, a.k.a. the character’s emotional healing, and an outer war: the conflict that forced the reckoning. If it’s a purely symbolic internal realization, you can mirror that with actual conflict in the real scene: the breaking of a dish, a fit of rage, a sudden ray of sunlight (or a storm… this should not be pleasant; It’s a breaking point and spiritual death/rebirth).

You can clarify the moment of change by setting up an illustrative contrast, a before and after, that shows how those internal changes have resulted in real-world consequences or benefits. Each character’s unique challenge will match their personal weakness or fear. The price for victory is the one thing they have so far refused to do, or something they cannot give up or bear to lose.

Make sure your protagonist has gone through a transformative struggle to arrive at deep insights, knowledge or awareness. Find a way to deepen the incidental scenes so that they become instrumental to a deeper purpose, leading towards an identity-shifting event.

The plot is what happens, and it’s important. But you can make it more dramatic and meaningful by making sure you demonstrate how hard it was and what it cost. It matters, it is remarkable, because it forced your protagonist to change.

Your conclusion might include:

Physical tension as allies perform a tug-of-war battle against resistance, that shows how difficult this struggle is, and how much force is required.

The consideration phase, as characters are tempted last minute or the price for victory is revealed: the sweet memories that give them awareness that this fight is worth the cost or risk (you need to show them making the choice, knowing what they will lose).

The final flashback, as the full backstory is revealed so we can see exactly why this conflict is so difficult or meaningful for the main character.

2. Add (unresolved) conflict.

Your story is made up of the events and scenes, where something happens. Each new event will push the characters further into the plot. Slow scenes where nothing is really happening can be red flags, so the first thing to focus on is increasing conflict, drama, suspense and intrigue. This is what creates urgency. The full reveal, demonstrating why THIS challenge is so difficult and powerful, should happen just before the final battle or resolution.

You want to make sure every scene, especially in your conclusion, has enough conflict. I recommend these three:

Outer Conflict (threats): Challenges or obstacles that prevent the character from achieving goals.

Inner Conflict (doubts): Moral struggles, decisions, guilt or shame, anger.

Friendly Fire (betrayal): Strong disagreements between allies or supporting characters. 

You want to extend and deepen the potential conflict, without resolving it too easily. The biggest destroyer of conflict is conversation: when your characters just sit around and talk to each other. Most conflict involves a lack of information, and a desire for clarity. A lot of conflict is perceived or imagined.

The most important information needs to come last, and come at a great price. The information that has an emotional impact, and influences their actions and decisions, should be big reveals at dramatic peaks. A surprise or twist should be treated as an event: each scene is leading towards a change or new piece of information that provokes the protagonist to respond.

3. Fill plot holes with character motivation.

After you’ve made sure that “what actually happens” is intriguing (opening questions and raising tensions without resolving them) you can focus on making sure the plot holes are filled, and characters are properly motivated – these two things are usually adjacent.

You can find and fill plot holes by asking:

Why are the characters doing this?

Why does any of it matter?

Basically, readers need to respect the main characters enough to care what happens to them, so their choices and actions need to make sense within the given information. If there’s a simpler, easier solution, readers will get stuck up on “why didn’t they just…”? To fix plot holes and gaps in logic or continuity, or make the story go where you need it to, you can add urgency, fix the mood of the scene (bigger stakes require bigger justifications), show characters in a weakened mental state, or raise concerns but have them dismissed, with an excuse or justification.

You need rational characters to make plausible choices that lead to dire consequences. You need show why they don’t do something easier, or nothing at all, or why they face clear challenges, despite potential obstacles.

They’ll also require a deeper motivation, for why they’re willing to put themselves in identity-destroying conflict, rather than just giving up or running away. Why do they stay in THIS fight, when they’ve run from similar ones? If they weren’t ready at the beginning, why are the ready now – what changed in them, as a result of your story’s journey?

Your protagonist needs to have a strong, consistent internal compass, and it needs to be revealed through incidents that establish their character. This is who they are. Without this reliable core identity, we won’t be able to tell a story that forces them to change. 

4. Let readers picture your story with detailed description.

In the final stages of revision, you can begin improving the description with specific details.

It’s smart to start – or end – a chapter with a vivid, immediate scene. You want to leave readers with an image they can see in their minds, hopefully connected to the feeling you aim to evoke. You can close a chapter with a reference back to a motif or image, with a deeper or more reflective context; applying meaning to the metaphor. This will help readers feel engaged, be moved, and leave a lasting impact.

Vivid scenes are mostly a matter of detailed description, so add the specifics about the story environment. Be precise, not vague. Instead of “she put a plate of tea and snacks on the table” you can write “she gently placed an antique porcelain teapot on the table. I could smell it was Earl Grey from the scent of bergamot. The half-sleeve of Oreos and can of onion-flavored Pringles seemed incongruous with the fancy dishes, but I knew she was making an effort to welcome me.”

Focus on the sensations and feelings; but also zero-in on any potential sources of conflict or internal emotions or states of mind. In my example above, the host might be nervous or ashamed of her spread; or perhaps she has a degenerative brain disease and doesn’t notice the incongruity. Tensions are unspoken, potential sources of negative feelings. They hover in the background of your description.

Readers will remember the pictures you put in their heads, not the words on the page.

Description should serve and be bound to the story, not distract from it.

It should be squeezed into and around the scene action, when the protagonist is using or exploring.

Show what’s different, not what’s the same.

Leave space for readers to fill in the gaps, but get them started in the right direction so they aren’t surprised later.

Sidenote: be careful about your metaphors, analogies and similes. Each one will put a picture into readers’ minds, and it can quickly get overcrowded with imagery. You’re asking them to ignore your real scene and think of something else. Use them to confirm and amplify the scene you have, and limit distractions.

5. Prepare to publish.

Typos are bad, but perfectionism will ruin you. This section is about editing and proofreading, but I don’t have time for all that, and you don’t either. The real problem with a story is rarely the number of typos. A very clean book isn’t better if people stop reading.

You can solve a lot of common writing problems, with my big list of 25 common writing mistakes, and self-edit your manuscript to make it as good as possible. After that, a copyeditor or proofreader isn’t always the best investment (and it can also be the biggest publishing cost).

Instead, use an editing software (I like Grammarly) to root out obvious mistakes, but don’t dwell on the small stuff like perfecting every word or rearranging the commas. Spending a very long time wrestling a poorly-written manuscript in shape is less effective than getting something (actually) done to the point where you’re comfortable sharing it.

This may be difficult at first, but you can’t learn and improve without genuine reader feedback (from people who aren’t your mom or best friend; nor the short-sighted opinions of a self-proclaimed literature enthusiast). You need to find readers who enjoy your particular genre, and the sooner you find them, the more valuable feedback you can get.

Shorten the feedback loop: Get over the fear and focus on learning by getting feedback early and often. However, this doesn’t just mean joining a writer’s club: writers are brutal and might focus on trivial things. The safest bet is to make it public, on Wattpad at least. Or get a cheap cover and throw it up on Kindle, Draft2Digital or even your own blog.

Making it public is scary and vulnerable, but it’s better than letting the fear of messing up keep you from the brutal, necessary experience of allowing readers to tell you what they liked and disliked about your writing. Will some people be critical? Yes! But guess what, you’ll get negative reviews even if you’re a brilliant, famous writer. Those are inevitable. And the first negative reviews may teach you more about writing than 10 years attempting to self-edit, afraid of putting your book out into the world.

PS. You can use resources, like my 24-chapter plot outline, as a way to spot story gaps in your manuscript and improve the structure (especially if your book suffers from a “soggy middle.)

Derek Murphy has a PhD in Literature, writes urban fantasy and is the founder of the alliance of young adult authors. More recently, he’s started sharing writing tips on http://www.writethemagic.com

Top photo by Adegbenro Emmanuel Dipo on Unsplash.

#nanowrimo #camp nanowrimo #nanofinmo #writing advice #writing tips #finishing a novel #by nano guest #derek murphy

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Everyone Lives

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero @magic713m @ccboomer @aubsenroute @somebodyswatson

Chapter Ten Black’s Betrayal

The house was in disrepair, as it had been the last time he had visited. The windows were covered in so much muck and dirt that they allowed no light in nor out of the house. All that was left of the door knocker was the nail.

He pushed open the sagging door. The greenery that had clung to the wood frame provided little resistance. Inside, the house was not covered in dust, but rather a layer of dirt coated the floor and the tables inside. It had been decades since anyone had taken up residence in this home, and even when it had been lived in, it had not been cared for.

He crossed the sparse living room and approached the fireplace. A mouse skittered across the floor and the snake at his feet lunged suddenly.

“Stay close,” he hissed, and Nagini slithered back to his side.

Beside the mantle, a section of the wood floor was visible beneath the inch of dirt. The wood beams were cracked and worn, but otherwise the concealment appeared undisturbed. He waved a slender black wand and pulled the wood away. There, between the floor and the foundation, rested an ornate golden box. It was decorated in a relief of snakes, weaving down trees and slithering amongst vines. Emeralds stood in for their eyes, and rubies for the fruit of the trees. He waved his wand again, and the box opened.

The black velvet lining was empty.

Harry woke with a start, blood boiling with fury. He scrambled to his feet and hurried across the landing to the bathroom, where he wretched up most of the late night snack Kreacher had fixed for them.

He laid down and rested his head on the cool, black tile of the bathroom and panted for breath. As angry as he was with Hermione for scolding him about Occlumency, he knew she had a point. Real or imagined, these visions were debilitating.

When Harry was certain he could move without vomiting, he rinsed his mouth and splashed water on his face. The pain had receded to a dull ache, and he felt better, like himself again. Anger, at least, was not still coursing through his veins — at least no more strongly than the fear and anxiety that he was growing used to. With a weary sigh, Harry crossed the landing and returned to the drawing room.

Grey, pre-dawn light fell onto Harry’s empty sleeping bag. Hermione had fallen asleep on the sofa, and Ron lay on the floor beneath her. Her hand hung off the sofa, low to the ground, and her fingers brushed against his. A pang of jealousy shot through Harry. He thought of the mirror tucked away in Hermione’s handbag and wondered if it would be safe to try and reach Ginny. He wondered if she would know what had happened to his parents.

A creak on the landing made Harry turn suddenly and fumble for his wand — but it was only Regulus.

“You’re awake early,” Regulus said softly.

“Bad dream,” Harry said.

Regulus nodded, understanding. “Breakfast?”

Harry followed Regulus down to the kitchen. While Kreacher cooked, Harry shared his dream with Regulus.

Regulus’ face remained as impassive as ever. He did not appear concerned by Harry’s connection with Voldemort, nor eager to use it. He did, however, frown as Harry described the anger Voldemort felt at discovering the empty box.

“I don’t know why he was so upset,” Harry said, and thanked Kreacher as Kreacher set a plate of eggs and toast before him.

“It seems our secret is finally uncovered,” Regulus said, and he, too, thanked Kreacher. With a wave of his wand he heated the kettle and poured himself a cup of tea. “Dumbledore and I put a lot of effort into concealing my involvement with the Order. When I went to the graveyard that night, I revealed my knowledge of Horcruxes to the Dark Lord. It was… arrogant and foolish of me, but I did not expect that I would have to live with the consequences.”

“If you hadn’t been there, Cedric and I might not have made it out alive,” Harry said.

This did not cheer Regulus, but nothing ever did. “Regardless,” he took a bite of his breakfast and chewed it slowly. “We could not let the Dark Lord know that I had shared my findings with Dumbledore. We had to keep up the ruse that I was hiding from the Order as much as I was hiding from Death Eaters. For if the Dark Lord ever learned just how far the knowledge of his secret had traveled, it would give him every opportunity to move Horcruxes or, Merlin forbid, create new ones.”

Harry tapped his fork against his plate and did not meet Regulus’ eyes. “I… I think he already has.”

He told Regulus about the dream he had had before Tonks and Remus’ wedding, about the Muggle Studies professor who had been murdered, and Voldemort’s attempt to create a new Horcrux.

Regulus, who was already pale, looked almost waxy in the dim kitchen light. “I do not know what happens when an object rejects a soul fragment, but let us pray that that was the end of it.”

“So you don’t think the Sword is a Horcrux?”

“The blade has been imbued with basilisk venom, has it not? Isn’t that how Malfoy nearly killed you? No, I do not believe the Sword would be a suitable host for a soul fragment.”

“Nagini’s a Horcrux,” Harry pointed out. “Surely she’s poisonous — she nearly killed you and Mr. Weasley.”

Regulus ran his thumb over the edge of his tea mug. “Filling a non-living entity with a soul fragment is entirely different from a living entity. In a traditional Horcrux, the soul becomes bound to the object, takes on the properties of the object — and more. I have gathered from Dumbledore and Miss Weasley how the diary operated, and I think it is a good example. The fragment of the Dark Lord’s soul was able to interact in the way a diary could, and could even share memories, as a diary is meant to do.”

“The locket tried to talk to me before I killed it,” Harry said. “It tried to tell me things about Dumbledore, make me doubt him…”

“Lockets contain secrets, things we wish to keep close. I expect when you destroy the diadem, it will offer promises of wisdom, power, and perhaps even glory. It would be wise to destroy it before it can tempt you to use it.”

“But the Sword is different?”

“I think the Sword of Godric Gryffindor could have easily become the most dangerous of the Dark Lord’s Horcruxes. A weapon, imbued with his own vile desires — we should count ourselves lucky that you drenched it in basilisk venom, preventing it from hosting any living entity.”

“You said a living Horcrux is different, though. How?”

Regulus took a sip of his tea. He was quiet for a long moment. “It is not something that has been heavily researched, but Dumbledore and I did discuss the differences between the diary and the Dark Lord’s snake. For one, the diary did not have any knowledge beyond the moment of its creation — at least, no knowledge other than what Miss Weasley fed to it. Nagini, however, is living and breathing. It is not her body that the fragment of his soul is bound to, but her soul to his. This allows him to interact with her mind, to perhaps even control her beyond a Parselmouth’s traditional abilities. His soul in hers is not stagnant nor isolated the way it would become in an object.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Harry frowned at his half-eaten breakfast. “So the ring was supposed to be in that box? How does he know you didn’t destroy it on your own?”

“Because I never knew his real name, nor his true family heritage. Only Dumbledore, who knew of Tom Riddle’s connection to the Gaunt family, could have guessed the Dark Lord would hide a piece of his soul outside of Little Hangleton. I had the knowledge of Horcruxes; Dumbledore had the knowledge of the Dark Lord. Together, we made quite the formidable team. It’s a shame we were unable to accomplish more.”

Harry swallowed, wondering how he was supposed to do what Regulus and Dumbledore could not. “You found the locket before you talked with Dumbledore, didn’t you? Before you even went to Azkaban?”

Regulus kept his eyes on his teacup. “I suppose I have not been entirely honest with you. I told you that I betrayed the Dark Lord because he asked me to kill Sirius.”

“I never really believed that.”

A wry and rare smile twisted across Regulus’ face. “At the time, I thought it imprudent to share my knowledge of Horcruxes, particularly with a fourteen-year-old boy I had just met.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue that Regulus should have trusted him with the truth, but the door creaked open, and Hermione’s relieved sigh echoed in the kitchen.

“Told you he hadn’t gone far,” Ron said.

“I was afraid you had run off,” Hermione explained as she and Ron took seats at the table.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” Harry said.

Regulus asked Kreacher to fix breakfast for everyone. Kreacher bowed and began to work without complaint, but when Hermione offered to help prepare coffee, Kreacher snapped that his Mistress would never allow Mudbloods under her roof, much less allow them to prepare food in her kitchen.

“Oi!” Ron got to his feet. “She’s just trying to help —”

Regulus cleared his throat. “Kreacher, Miss Granger is a guest in our home. Please treat her as such.”

Kreacher frowned as he took in Regulus’ words. Finally, he bowed to Hermione. “Guests is not allowed to work in the kitchen.” And he returned to his work.

“He should apologise —”

“It’s alright, Ron,” Hermione said. “It isn’t his fault.”

“It is certainly his own fault,” Regulus said. “We can only blame so many of our mistakes on our circumstances. But I do appreciate your patience with him.”

Reluctantly, Ron sank back into his seat. “Can’t you forbid him from using that word at least?”

“If Miss Granger asks me to, I will, but I would like Kreacher to make his own decision to stop using it.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise, and Harry, too, thought this was the most sympathy he had ever seen from Regulus, who was usually so stalwart and set in his own opinions.

“I — I should like to give Kreacher a chance,” she said.

“Thank you.”

Harry finished his breakfast as Kreacher set down plates for Ron and Hermione. Hermione thanked him, but Ron did not.

Harry gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from Kreacher. His head still ached, and his poor sleep, interrupted only by Voldemort’s anger, had left him exhausted. He took a sip and let the warmth fill him. “Regulus,” he said, “how did you find the locket?”

Regulus did not answer. He stared down at his tea cup, then took another sip.

“If we’re supposed to hunt down the cup, it would help to know how you uncovered the locket,” Harry pressed.

Regulus still did not look at Harry. Finally, once his teacup was empty, Regulus said, “Kreacher, please leave us.”

The house-elf bowed, and disappeared with a pop.

Regulus hesitated another moment. “The story is… rather long, and it was traumatic for both Kreacher and I.” He refilled his cup. “However, I will tell it in as much detail as I can, in order for the three of you to understand exactly what sort of dangers you may face in your quest.”

Hermione very slowly set aside her breakfast. She folded her hands on the table as if she were in class, prepared to listen to one of Binns’ riveting lectures. She only needed parchment and ink to complete the image.

“I had not been out of Hogwarts very long when the Dark Lord requested the use of an elf,” Regulus said. “I eagerly complied. I did not think to ask any questions. I was… happy to serve.” Regulus paused, and Harry struggled to picture a younger Regulus, one as eager to join the Death Eaters as Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. It was difficult, however, to reconcile their fervor with Regulus’ reticence.

“When Kreacher returned,” Regulus finally continued, “he was weak, half-dead, and he told me that he had been used to test the protections around a Horcrux. I had heard the word before, but it was nothing more than a myth to me, a sort of dark fairytale. I had never imagined it could be real. I certainly had never conceived of the Dark Lord’s plans to make multiple Horcruxes.”

“After everything You-Know-Who did, it took a Horcrux to convince you he was evil?” Ron asked.

Regulus pressed his lips together. “I will not excuse the mistakes I have made. I have been quite plain with you that I deserved the years I spent in Azkaban — and perhaps I deserve more. And I will not detail how my path led me to the Dark Lord’s side, in a way that, on reflection, feels inevitable. I was wrong, and I cannot blame my circumstances, yet I was also shaped by them. I will, however, be very clear that while I was angry that the Dark Lord had broken the bounds of existence and split his soul, I was far more furious about the way Kreacher had been treated. As you might say, ‘la goutte qui fait déborder le vase.’”

Ron blinked. “What?”

Harry frowned. “I don’t think any of us would say that.”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “The drop that makes the vase overflow.”

“Oh,” Hermione nodded. “There’s a Muggle-saying — the last straw that broke the camel’s back.”

Ron stared at her. “How would straw break a camel? Aren’t they big animals like horses?”

“It merely means,” Regulus sighed, “that many things built up over time. Sirius will tell you that I did not have the stomach for some of the violent acts of the Death Eaters, and that is partially true. It does not change that I wanted to be like them, for a multitude of reasons.” He drummed his fingers against his empty cup and frowned.

Harry thought of the portrait that had shrieked at them last night and of Regulus’ boggart. He could think of at least one reason Regulus would want to join the Death Eaters and their vision of a pureblood society.

“After what had happened to Kreacher,” Regulus continued, “I set on undoing what had been done. I had Kreacher take me to the cave the Dark Lord had taken him to. Even as an elf, he was not able to Apparate us inside. I never wanted to bring Kreacher with me, but he insisted, so I carried him across a stormy sea and into a hidden cave. It was little more than an inlet, no place to hide a Dark object, but with a bit of blood, I was able to reveal a door that opened into a much larger cavern. It was inside this cavern that the Dark Lord had hidden his Horcrux.”

“Just a bit of blood to get in?” Ron asked. “That’s not so bad.”

Regulus’ tight smile danced between annoyance and amusement. “This cavern was enormous, filled with a smooth lake, and the Horcrux rested at its center. Kreacher guided me to a boat, hidden beneath the water. It carried us across the cavern to the island the Horcrux was on. It rested at the bottom of a basin, filled with a terrible potion. The only way to retrieve the Horcrux was to drink from the basin. It was this part of the process that had nearly killed Kreacher, so I would not let him drink it again. I drank it myself.”

Regulus paused again, and he rubbed his wrist. It was not a dramatic motion, but Regulus was usually so still and poised that the small movement was striking.

When Regulus spoke again, his voice was barely more than a whisper. “This potion did not merely fill the body with physical pain. It began that way, but as I persisted, it seemed to take hold not only of my body but of my mind as well, and I began to relive each of my darkest memories. When I was unable to make myself drink more, Kreacher, against his own desires, forced me to finish the potion. It was only when it had finally been drunk that we were able to retrieve the locket.”

“That’s horrible,” Hermione whispered.

“That is not the end of it,” Regulus said. “With the potion gone, my mind cleared, mostly. I was left thirsty, anxious for something — anything — to cool the fire that flooded my veins. As the Dark Lord had arranged it, there was only one source of water available to me.”

“The lake?” Harry asked.

“Deep below its surface, waiting for something living to disturb its waters, rested the dead — Inferi, corpses of those murdered by the Dark Lord, repurposed for his own defense. I had only to dip my hand in the water before they were dragging me into its depths.”

Hermione stifled a scream, and it came out something like a choked sob. Ron sat perfectly still, back rigid and jaw tight. Harry had to swallow down the breakfast that crawled back up his throat.

“I should have drowned. I…” Regulus let out a long, slow breath. “I wanted to drown. I knew that betraying the Dark Lord was a death sentence, and that if I returned home with the Horcrux, I would not live much longer. It was far easier to face death in the cavern, to leave the locket to Kreacher to destroy. Kreacher, however, did not see things my way. He defied my orders, rescued me from the Inferi, and returned me here. He forced me to endure years of a painful recovery, a recovery I do not think was entirely completed until Lily brewed an antidote for Nagini’s venom after the battle in the graveyard. She used my blood to create her antidote, and I firmly believe that what she created also countered the lingering elements of that strange, horrible potion. I was never quite myself until after her cure.”

“So when you told us back in the Shrieking Shack that those years you were missing were spent recovering from a curse,” Hermione said, “you meant that potion?”

Regulus nodded. “Kreacher cared for me during that time. Kreacher and… a friend. As such, I found it easier to pretend to the Dark Lord and my family that I was dead. It would spare them the consequences of incurring the Dark Lord’s wrath as revenge for my betrayal, and spare myself the consequences. The potion left my body wracked with pain for the better part of two years. My feline form eased it some, but when I received word that the Dark Lord was destroyed and those most loyal to him were going to torture the Longbottoms for more information I forced myself to act.”

“When did you put together all of those letters between you and other Death Eaters?” Harry asked.

“I already had my personal journal, full of notes about my family history — a source of fascination for me as a child — notes from my years at school, and letters from family and friends. At some point, it occurred to me that I had one chance at a normal life, a life where I did not have to pretend that I was dead just to avoid the wrath of either the Dark Lord or the Ministry. If I could offer the Ministry evidence of other Death Eaters, and proof of my own betrayal of the Dark Lord, I could perhaps escape Azkaban. While the poison made it difficult for me to do much more than hobble around the parlour, I found that in my Animagus form, I could slip away for a few hours, infiltrate the homes of other Death Eaters, and steal evidence of their involvement with the Dark Lord. Had Sirius realised what he had a hold of, and not burned it in a fit of rage, perhaps Lucius could have been put in Azkaban before luring Harry to the Ministry was even a thought in his head.”

“But in that case,” Harry pressed, “why didn’t you reveal the journal to the Ministry when they arrested you? I saw your trial. You didn’t say anything in your defense. You didn’t offer any evidence against Malfoy. And Fabian and Gideon said that even when they arrested you, you didn’t say anything about having changed your ways.”

Regulus took a long time to answer, and Harry could not help but think he was searching for a lie. Anger flared in Harry’s chest that Regulus had begun this conversation by promising honesty, but here at the end of it, he could not resist keeping secrets.

“I always believed,” Regulus finally said, “that the Dark Lord would return, as did many after that night in Godric’s Hollow. I was not ready to tip my hand. And — as I have said — I was not innocent entirely. Azkaban was a fitting place for me, and I might have chosen to endure it another twelve years if I had not learned how Barty had feigned his death. I suppose he thought that my plan of playing dead worked well enough to steal.”

Harry searched for the hole in this statement, for evidence of the lie he expected, but he found none. The words seemed true, as far as he could tell.

“So,” Ron said, voice small and weak. He coughed and started over. “So all we have to do is survive deadly potions and armies of corpses, what, three more times before it’s all over?”

“We only need to find Helga Hufflepuff’s cup,” Hermione reminded him. “Nagini will likely be at his side, as a weapon, protecting him as much as he is protecting her.”

“And we need to determine if he’s made a new one to replace what Dumbledore and I have destroyed,” Harry pointed out. “But none of it matters if we don’t have a way to actually destroy them once we have them.”

“You have the diadem with you?” Regulus asked.

Hermione nodded and reached into her beaded bag. Harry supposed after the surprise of the wedding, Hermione would carry the bag on her at all times until this was over. He felt similarly about the Cloak, and wished he had not left it beside his sleeping bag upstairs.

After a moment of digging, Hermione retrieved the diadem and set it on the table.

It certainly looked innocent enough: tarnished silver, sculpted in the shape of eagle wings, with a blue stone set in its center. The engraving on its edge was difficult to read in the dim light, but Harry knew it well enough by now. He recalled Regulus’ warning that it might offer knowledge or power. It did none of that, however. It merely sat on the table, no more animate than their breakfast dishes.

“Any ideas?” Harry asked, looking at Regulus.

Regulus stroked his chin and stared at the diadem. “Dumbledore never told me how he destroyed the ring and the locket. I can only assume he used the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, but I did not make that connection until you and Sirius discussed the basilisk venom in the infirmary that night.”

“He told me that he used the Sword on the ring, and I used it on the locket. It just needed to be opened with Parseltongue first.”

“In that case, perhaps the Dark Lord thinks himself lucky that the locket was the first of his Horcruxes to be found. Not even Dumbledore could have destroyed it alone.”

“But now that he knows the ring is gone, that doesn’t matter.”

Regulus sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. “Dumbledore gave me a job to do, separate from yours. However, while I perform this task, I will do everything that I can to retrieve the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. I think that is the most help I can offer you.”

“No idea where the cup might be, then?” Ron asked.

“Perhaps I can offer you one more piece of help. I firmly believe he entrusted it to Bellatrix or Pyrites. They were his closest servants during the first war — them and Lucius. We know that he gave the diary to Lucius. I think it reasonable that he entrusted the cup to another of his most loyal. Whether that object is still in their care is another matter.”

“So we could be back at square one,” Ron grunted. “Excellent.”

“Not entirely,” Hermione said. “If he did take the cup from one of his followers, he’ll likely keep it close, somewhere he can keep an eye on it.”

“Malfoy Manor?” Harry suggested. “We know that’s where he’s been hiding. When he isn’t roaming the German countryside, that is.”

Ron groaned. “You think he’s hidden a Horcrux in Germany?”

Regulus shook his head. “Unlikely. I believe Miss Granger is correct. He will keep the cup, and anything else he creates, somewhere that —”

A warm prickling sensation brushed against the back of Harry’s neck, and he turned around in search of who might be behind him. Ron and Hermione did the same, and Regulus sat up a little straighter.

“What —” Ron asked.

“Someone is here,” Regulus said, “and they have just checked to see if the house is empty.”

Ron and Harry drew their wands. Hermione grabbed the diadem and shoved it into her bag — and not a moment too soon.

The door opened, and James and Lily stepped into the kitchen.

It took everything in Harry not to cry as he scrambled away from the table and into his parents’ arms.

Lily squeezed him so tightly that he thought his ribs would crack under the pressure. She did not hold back her tears as he had, and even James, when they finally broke apart and actually looked at each other, wiped a hand over his cheek.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Lily said, “all of you.”

“Is there any news?” Ron asked. “Have you heard from anyone else in the Order?”

“Where’s Sirius?” Harry asked. “And Remus and Tonks? Is Picksie okay?”

Lily pressed her finger to the underside of her eye, but it did not slow the steady tears of joy and relief. “We have news,” she said.

“Good and bad,” James said grimly. “I suppose first things first — we ought to make sure everyone is who they say they are.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged sheepish glances. They had never considered verifying that Regulus was indeed Regulus. But even James and Lily had taken time for hugs and a tearful reunion before worrying about imposters.

Once they were all certain that no one in their number was a Polyjuiced Death Eater, Regulus called Kreacher back into the kitchen to fix a third round of breakfast. Kreacher did not, to his credit, make any comments about Lily’s blood as he fixed the meal, and Ron, perhaps remembering Regulus’ story, ignored Kreacher’s grumbling.

Or perhaps he was too anxious to hear what James and Lily had learned.

“Are my parents okay? Ginny?” Ron asked. “My brothers? Who’s in charge at the Ministry now?”

“We don’t know everything,” Lily said. “But we know that your family is safe.”

“We couldn’t get very close,” James said. “Everyone’s being watched, and there are only so many times a stag can approach someone’s kitchen window before it gets suspicious. The bite I took out of Molly’s rosebushes might have been convincing, but I can’t be sure.”

“What did you see, though?” Ron pressed.

“They’re shaken, naturally,” Lily said, “and we won’t sugarcoat it — they were tortured for information on us.”

“Not as badly as Ted and Andromeda,” James murmured.

Lily swallowed. “No, not that badly. In fact, the Death Eaters gave up when they found your ghoul, Ron. Apparently that rapid case of Spattergroit you came down with was very persuasive. They didn’t want to stick around and catch it.”

“It also means that Scrimgeour didn’t give us up, or they would have been more persistent at the Burrow,” James added. “At least, for now, they believe we were simply wedding guests who Disapparated in time. Which is not untrue.”

“What happened to Tonks’ parents?” Harry asked. “Are Tonks and Remus okay?”

“We all knew that the Tonks would be hit hardest when the Ministry fell,” Lily said, “since the Trace would have tracked you there the night we left home. Tonks left the wedding as quickly as she could to get to her parents, but she wouldn’t let Remus go with her, as hard as he tried. Sirius went with her instead.”

Ron frowned. “Why wouldn’t she want —”

“Remus’ open secret puts a bit of a target on his back,” James said. “I expect the Death Eaters would have done more than torture him if they caught him.”

“But he’s alright, isn’t he?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” said Lily. “Last we heard, he was with Frank and Alice. I’m sure Tonks will let him know when it’s safe to go home.”

“Where were you two last night?” Regulus asked with a raised eyebrow.

Lily closed her eyes and pinched her nose. James’ shoulders’ slumped, and his smile was one part amused and one part weary.

“We had the privilege of staying with Lily’s Muggle family,” James said.

Harry blinked at them. “What?”

“We had always planned on getting them into some sort of safe house,” Lily explained. “After Dumbledore’s death, it was obvious to us that the Ministry would not hold out forever. If the Death Eaters really wanted to go after us and Harry, it would not be hard for them to track down my sister. We had plans with Hestia and Emmeline to get them to a safehouse. We were going to take care of the finishing touches in the days after the wedding, but, well…”

“No one likes their brother-in-law and a house-elf appearing on their doorstop in the dead of night telling them to get out of the house,” James said, “especially not when that brother-in-law is a dim-witted street magician.”

“Vernon knows you aren’t a street magician,” Lily said.

“He does now.”

Lily sighed. “James came and went as he could, trying to find out what had happened to everyone. Picksie was a blessing, too. I thought my sister’s family would be terrified of her, but Dudley was very sweet with her, and I think that helped smooth the process. I, however… I was not at my best. Between not having my wand, Harry Disapparating on us, and not getting answers as quickly as I would have liked — I could have treated my sister with a bit more patience, I suppose. After only one night at the safehouse, Hestia suggested that my sister and her family might adjust better if I wasn’t there.”

“Which was alright with me,” James said. “We thought we’d see what news we could turn up about you at Headquarters. I can’t tell you how relieved we are to actually see you.”

“We expected you to be halfway across the country on whatever this foolhardy quest of yours is,” Lily said. It was hard to miss the bitterness in her voice, and though Harry knew she was glad to see him, the barb stung.

James squeezed her hand. “We’re glad to know you’re all safe.”

“You left Picksie with your Muggle family?” Harry asked.

“She didn’t like separating from us,” James admitted, “but she can protect them as well as Emmeline and Hestia can, and I think they’ll be safer together. We’ll check in on them from time to time, as we can. It’s not unlike the first war.” James gave Lily a tight smile. “Running from safehouse to safehouse, never staying in one place more than a week.”

“Except this time I’m not pregnant, thank Merlin,” Lily sighed.

“Or, we aren’t carting an infant around with us,” James added, “as we had to those first few months of Harry’s life.”

“Getting our own safehouse in Godric’s Hollow really was a blessing, for as long as it lasted.”

“Why not do something like that again?” Harry suggested. “You guys could have somewhere safe to stay — I could be your Secret Keeper — then you wouldn’t have to —”

Lily shook her head and James half-laughed.

“No, Snitch,” James smiled at him, “I’d rather not.”

“For one,” Lily said, “we will not sit at home while you run off on a dangerous mission.”

“For another,” James added, “safehouses are incredibly lonely. Especially under the Fidelius Charm.”

“We couldn’t see anyone,” Lily said, “not even Remus and Dumbledore. Only Peter and Sirius knew where we were. That sort of loneliness… Honestly, I’m not sure how much longer we would have lasted.”

“We did have Bathilda Bagshot.”

“She had some funny stories, didn’t she?”

“You met Bathilda Bagshot?” Hermione asked, eyes wide. “The author of A History of Magic and Hogwarts: A History?”

“And the author of the Oracle of Palombo and The Decline of Pagan Magic,” James said. “She has quite a head for stories. Said all sorts of things about Dumbledore growing up. Though I think she’d gone a bit batty by the time we met her.”

Harry frowned. “She knew Dumbledore?”

“He grew up in Godric’s Hollow,” Lily said. “She was a bit older than him, wasn’t she? She claimed to know the family fairly well, but I don’t know. Some of her stories were a bit unbelievable.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t remember details…”

“Said he was friends with Grindelwald for one,” James said. “That’s about where I thought her mind had gone. Though I didn’t believe his father had been arrested and sent to Azkaban, but apparently that one was true.”

“That’s a bit of a checkered past,” said Ron. “No wonder Dumbledore kept so many secrets.”

“You’ve plenty of friends who have been to Azkaban, Ron,” Hermione said. “Regulus, Hagrid, and Remus have all been arrested and sent to Azkaban before.”

“Even Sirius and I have spent time in an Azkaban cell,” James said, “though mine was more of a voluntary stay.”

Regulus stood suddenly. “As lovely as this has been, I think I shall see if I can’t start on repairs to the study. You don’t happen to know what happened to those books?” Regulus asked James and Lily.

James shook his head.

“We saw the damage on our way in,” Lily said. “We thought maybe there had been a duel, but no one in the Order has mentioned that there was any raid or attack here.”

“If someone does say something,” Regulus sighed, “do let me know. Quite a bit of history went up in smoke and I should like to know why.”

The kitchen door closed behind Regulus, and Lily stifled a yawn. “Speaking of Sirius and Remus, should we try checking on them today?”

“I can ask Regulus to slink down to the Tonks’ tonight,” James said. “Andromeda will be pleased to see him, and a black cat is far less conspicuous than an eight-foot tall stag.”

“Did Cedric get away from the Burrow alright?” Harry asked.

James nodded. “Molly said that Cedric, Thelborne, and Krum all stayed with them until the end. Thelborne even offered to send Hit Wizards to check on them every few days, but his offer was rebuffed. I’m sure he understood why.”

“Does Cedric know that you’re here?” Lily asked. “He is helping you with this secret mission, isn’t he?” Her voice was careful and her words enunciated with neither bitterness nor concern.

“We can write to him,” Hermione suggested. “Harry, you have that code with him, don’t you?”

Harry did not know what good a letter would do. Cedric had been the one to suggest that Grimmauld Place was safe, that they should stop here before going on the quest and see what more they could learn. Surely Cedric would at least look for them here.

But he nodded. “We can post it using the Cloak.”

“A Disillusionment Charm or Polyjuice Potion would be better,” James said. “And addressing it on the outside to Amos or Fiona might throw suspicion just a bit more. Or someone in the Order who isn’t connected with the Ministry might be best.”

“It might take a bit longer to reach him,” Lily said, “but if you can give it an indirect and untraceable path, it’s less likely to be examined. No code is unbreakable, no matter how complex you think it is.”

“Thanks,” and Harry meant it. It was nice that, even though he couldn’t involve his parents directly, he could still benefit from their help and experience. “It isn’t a code, though, it’s invisible ink,” Harry said. “Only we have the incantation to reveal it.”

“Charms can be broken,” James warned.

“Fred and George made it.”

“Ah — well, it might take time for those Charms to break, then, but even their work isn’t perfect.”

“Harry,” Lily paused and with some effort, said, “just let us know how we can help you.”

And this time, Harry was certain that there was no bitterness in her voice. He knew that wasn’t easy for her, and he accepted her gift gratefully.

“Thanks, Mum. I will. I promise.”

#Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows #hp everyone lives #hp everyone lives au #everyone lives au #harry potter everyone lives #hp fic #dh

[thatfanficstuff]

Bound -17 - The End

Pairing: Nik and Cassie

Warning: um...language. mentions of blood. Esther. Sneaky Cassie.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoy the end. There is 1 more book featuring these two but it has a completely original plot. I will be taking a break before that one though. Lots of other things to write. 

***

Finn’s smile as he looked me over was in no way reassuring. “Mother wishes to speak with you.”

I was sure she did. I chose to ignore his statement for the moment. “I’m surprised to see you here. The witches don’t seem to like intruders.”

He frowned. “You are here, are you not?”

I hummed in agreement then pointed at myself with my thumb. “Witch.”

“I have a witch with me as well. Perhaps mother was more prepared than your spirits.”

I didn’t respond to that because the fact was, it would appear that he was correct. At the moment, I couldn’t even hear a whisper of the witches. Their power was still there buzzing under the surface, but their presence had been severely dampened. I was beyond done with Esther Mikaelson.

My father’s warning that I needed to kill her here on the property flowed through me and I was tempted to reach for his magic. But I couldn’t beat her. Not now and not on my own. I needed my family and my own magic back.

Finn gripped my upper arm and steered me through the house. As we moved from room to room, tendrils of the old magic that saturated the air around me brushed against my skin, begging me to use it. I still wasn’t going to do anything without my hybrid. There could be no mistakes. She needed to die permanently this time.

The Original witch bitch was waiting for us when we left the house. “Cassidy, how delightful to see you.”

“Yeah. Fuck you, too.” My head snapped sideways when she smacked me. The increased pressure on my arm told me Finn didn’t care for my comment either. I turned back to face her and worked my jaw. Ow. “At this point I think we can drop the pretense, don’t you?”

“Very well.” She snapped her fingers and I was out.

***

When I woke, the sun had already risen. I figured by that point Nik would be half mad with worry. As far as I knew, my phone was still in the witch house along with everything else I’d taken with me. I wondered how long he went without hearing from me before he broke down and started looking for me.  

“It didn’t work, you know.” Esther’s voice startled me.

I turned to see her sitting on a chair across from the couch I’d been placed on. I glanced around the room as I sat up. Nothing looked familiar. “What didn’t work?”

“Your treachery. I knew you were stupid, but I had no idea you were so deceitful. You and Niklaus are a good much.”

This woman had some nerve. “I’m deceitful?”

“Pretending you didn’t remember our meeting on the other side. And that you were innocent in Niklaus’s manipulations. Did you think I wouldn’t discover your lies?” she snapped.

I pursed my lips. “And when exactly did you discover them? About the time your spell failed I assume?”

She smirked. “You aren’t nearly as clever as you think you are. I would have been a fool to take your cooperation at face value. I had other measures in place so trust me when I tell you that my children are bound together despite your efforts to stop it.”

Pure fear spiked through me. She was lying. She had to be. “That’s impossible.”

“It would have been foolish for me to place the blood in the champagne. There were too many factors I couldn’t control. Mainly, making sure my uncooperative children actually drank it. But the blood bags they’ve all been using since I came back…well, that’s another matter entirely.” She crossed her legs and laced her fingers together in her lap.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I didn’t even know what to say at that point. My brain scrambled as I struggled to come up with a plan. I had to stop her before she did something I couldn’t fix. “If the spell worked then why don’t you just kill Finn now and get it over with?” Nausea rolled in my belly as I said the words.

“If I wish their deaths to remain permanent, I must see that the sacrifice is done correctly. Tonight, by the full moon. And when I am finished and no longer need your power, you can join them in death.”

“Gee, thanks.”

***

As luck would have it, I didn’t have to steer Esther to the estate. It held the most concentrated power of anywhere in the area so she chose it all on her own. Finn continued to grip my arm and jerk me around as his mother prepped the area for the ritual. I was so ready to kick his ass. Or watch Nik do it, as the case may be.

He kept me beside him as Esther used purified chalk mixed with bone to lay the circle and pentagram. Torches were placed at each point and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. There were other ways to feed the spell that took far less energy than flame but if the bitch wanted to tire herself out, I wasn’t about to stop her.

Once she finished, Finn stood in the middle of the circle. He kept my arm firmly in his clutches. It was full dark when he announced that his siblings had arrived. I struggled against his hold and Esther cast a spell to restrict my movement. As the magic she stole from me wrapped around my legs, I instantly felt the connection form between her and I. She would have to maintain it to keep me in check. If she tried to let the spell work on its own, the power would simply come back to me where it belonged. Perfect.

My brain worked through scenarios as Nik and his siblings walked up to the circle. Several things needed to happen at almost the same time. The first Esther had already done by creating the magical connection between us. Only seven more to go. Let’s just hope I could pull it off.

Nik’s gaze immediately locked with mine. He pulled his eyes away to look me over for injuries before shifting his focus to his mother. “Let her go, mother. She has nothing to do with this.”

“She has everything to do with this Niklaus. In fact, she is the one making all of this possible. The world should thank her,” Esther answered.

I rolled my eyes and Kol smirked. Elijah and Nik were too pissed off to do much of anything but glare at their wayward sibling and the bitch that bore them all. And Rebekah…well, she just looked devastated. But at least she didn’t appear to be joining her mother’s side.

“Stop this, mother,” Elijah commanded. He was so used to being obeyed I think he was genuinely shocked when she said no.

“For a thousand years I have watched you kill. I have felt the pain and fear of every one of your victims. You are abominations that I should have let die a thousand years ago.” Not one trace of emotion colored her voice.

It was time to end this. I huffed a laugh and shook my head. Esther turned narrowed eyes on me as if daring me to say something. “Did you never wonder why you were forced to suffer?” I asked.

“I had no reason to wonder. It was because I cursed the world by allowing them to survive.”

“You still don’t get it, do you? If they weren’t meant to be, the magic wouldn’t have answered. The price you were forced to pay for the spell would have destroyed you in an instant.” I clenched my fists at my side as I spoke. My words got harsher and louder as I went on. “You were punished because you cursed your children. You didn’t ask them if they wanted this. You forced it on them without consideration for the consequences and then left them to fumble along on their own. You suffer those deaths so they don’t have to. You are serving their penance because there is no forgiveness for you. That was your hell.”

“Enough!” the woman barked out as she slapped me across the face.

Nik and his siblings pushed toward the circle and the flames flared up in response. I shook my head and lifted a hand to wipe away the trickle of blood at the side of my mouth. I couldn’t help my smile. One. “Look, I’m bleeding.” I glanced at my hybrid. “Just imagine how dramatic it would be if we were all bleeding.” He frowned though I knew he understood the message. I gave him a wink and hoped that conveyed that I had a plan.

However the Mikaelsons managed to communicate between themselves, it was only a matter of moments before I could feel the power coming from the blood of the four siblings outside the circle. Two.

I turned my engagement ring around with my thumb so the stone was on the palm side in preparation for the next step.

“What are you doing?” Esther hissed, obviously able to feel the power as well.

I tilted my head and gave her a half-smile before swiping my hand along the back of Finn’s hand, drawing a thin line of blood as the diamond cut him. Three.

It was only then that I tapped into my father’s magic and let it rise. Esther shook her head and took a step back. “That’s not possible.”

“What is it, mother?” Finn asked but he received no answer.

Using my father’s magic, I connected to my own stolen power and started to pull it from her. The more I tugged, the faster it poured into me. When Esther started to fight against me, the spirits of the witches came to aid me.

Esther released a wordless, strangled cry and fell to her knees in the dirt. Four.

Letting the witches continue their work, I held out a hand and recited a spell to call the blood of the five siblings. I didn’t need much, only a drop from each and myself. I had that and more.

As I recited the spell to unbind the siblings, the wind picked up and the flames flared even higher. Nik was yelling at me to let him in the circle. Finn was struggling against the magic I held him with. Elijah was yelling at Kol to figure out how to break the circle. And Rebekah was crying.

Of course, so was Esther.

The moment the spell binding the siblings broke, a pulse of power radiated out from the circle. Five.

The taste of copper filled my mouth. Oh good, I was bleeding in front of the vampires again. While I continued to pull the dregs of power from Esther, I turned my attention to her eldest child. Now he could hurt. With a twist of my hand, he let out a howl and fell to his knees. Six.

A moment later, I realized that I could no longer see anything but white light. If that was true for everyone else, I had no idea, but it was damned inconvenient. “Nik,” I called.

“What is it?”

“When the circle falls, you are going to have about five seconds when she’s fully human. Do you understand?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He sounded positively gleeful.

Apparently, Finn understood as well because his struggles renewed. I hit him with another wave of magic. I had so much to spare at the moment, after all. Finally, pain overrode the adrenaline pumping through me. I clenched my teeth as my knees buckled. One of the brothers called my name though I couldn’t be certain which one. Pain flared through me, fire and ice rolled into one as the magic burned. So much power. So much agony. And when I thought I couldn’t take one more second of misery, my vision returned as the circle fell. Seven.

The world slowed. Before my next breath, Esther’s heart was in Nik’s hand. Another breath and Finn was being restrained by Kol and Elijah. Another and the witches’ power flowed back out of me and into the ground. The next caught in my chest as I dropped to my knees. Muscles cramped, locking into contorted positions. Fuck that hurt. Rebekah yelled for Nik and everything went dark.

***

I recognized my bed beneath me before I even opened my eyes. The way they itched at the moment, I wasn’t in a big hurry to do that either. I licked my lips and swallowed. “Esther?”

“Dead,” was Nik’s immediately reply. He moved from wherever he’d been in the room to sit on the edge of the bed and take my hand in his. He rubbed his thumb over my skin but I kept my eyes closed.

“Finn?”

“Daggered and sealed.”

“You should get him some therapy. He needs it.”

Nik chuckled. “I’ll be right back, love.”

I frowned but didn’t try to stop him. It wasn’t long before he returned and then a warm, wet cloth wiped my face. “Oh. Yes, please,” I said and took the rag from him. I scrubbed my face until the skin no longer felt stretched and dirty.

When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to find the fabric colored with big swaths of blood. My gaze shot over to Nik’s. “What the hell?”

He arched a brow. “The amount of power you channeled that night left you bleeding from your ears, nose and mouth. I’ve done my best to keep you clean and fed you my blood regularly. Kol and Elijah have been rotating shifts with me so I could get some sleep.”

I sighed. “That sounds pleasant. How long?”

“Five days.”

“Shit.”

He held my hand in his and ran a finger along my palm. “I would lecture you about putting yourself in danger but once again you have saved us. And you don’t listen to me anyway, so what’s the point?”

“I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks,” I teased.

Nik scowled at me. “Damn it, Cassie. This is serious. I almost lost you. Again.”

I tugged on his hand to pull him toward me so I could kiss his lips. It was soft and sweet but much needed. He pressed his forehead to mine and took a deep breath. “I can’t keep doing this. I don’t think I can survive it. I need to know you’re not going anywhere.”

I laid a hand along the side of his face. “I’m not going anywhere, Nik. Not if I can help it.”

“Oddly enough that’s not very comforting, love. I don’t want you to lose your magic, but I want you to consider letting me turn you.”

“We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

I kissed him again. And as he repositioned himself in the bed so he could lay his head on my chest while he held me in his arms, I thought of a spell. Buried amongst handwritten pages full of information on the Sun and the Moon curse was another page copied directly from Esther’s grimoire. I had divided it up and scattered it amongst the other information, but it was easily pieced together.

After all, why settle for being a vampire when I could be an Original, too?    

#scheduled post #nik x cassie #Klaus Mikaelson x oc #Klaus Mikaelson fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #vampire diaries fanfiction #series #the hybrid's witch #bound #i'm not home when this posts #I'll tag people when I get home

[darkpoisonouslove]

“Eternal Like the Burn of the Ocean”

Summary: Valtor isn't the same selfish man who let himself hurt Griffin and can never have enough of anything. All he wants is a peaceful life with the love of his life. Can he ever have that, though, as long as his mothers are around, threatening his self confidence and the woman he loves? Part 3 of "Love Can Be a Trap That Sets You Free".

This takes place at least two years after part 2 and is the last part (that I have currently) chronologically. I will be adding more parts that are set between this one and the second one but I felt the previous part segued well into this one which is why this had to come as part 3.

Valtor took a deep breath, feeling the water caressing his skin as compelled by Griffin's magic. His own powers were keeping it warm, making it the perfect environment for them to rest in after their hard mission. Their combined efforts turned it into the ideal tool to help their tense muscles relax in the warm tenderness around them that he'd never suspected could be created by his Dragon Fire and soothe their wounds as manipulated by the healing spell Griffin had chosen from her growing reserve.

It had been one of the first things she'd focused her attention on and he'd been afraid that it was because he'd hurt her so viciously when he'd changed the essence of her being, but then he'd realized that she was doing it for her own conscience. He'd gotten hurt by his mothers again after a failed mission and she'd offered her help, the smile on her face big and warm when she'd used her newly acquired skills to nurse his injuries. She'd been happy to use her powers to heal and not destroy and he'd been happy that he'd given her the opportunity to choose what to be now that she was free of both the ocean and him. And she'd repaid him by taking care of him and caring for him.

He could feel the water laced with her magic washing away the scars of the battle little by little from his skin just like it always did. He didn't have a single new scar ever since she'd started dabbling in healing magic, and even the rage of his mothers couldn't leave permanent marks on him anymore. Sure, they hurt him to their hearts'–or rather lack of thereof–content and their punishments seemed to have turned more vicious now that they knew the consequences wouldn't last but Griffin's spells not only removed the traces of the torture he'd been subjected to. They seemed to remove the pain, too, the water carrying it away in its waves as if it had never been there. The only thing she couldn't fix were the old scars that had already healed, for she claimed the pain was trapped under the skin and deep into his being where her magic couldn't reach it, but he was grateful for everything she was doing for him anyway.

They had found a lake far enough from any people and from their home base to provide them with the privacy they needed for their recreational practices. A place where he was safe to just get naked and walk into the water, leaving himself in her gentle hands. As a rule, he wasn't a big fan of water, considering the source of his powers but he trusted her enough to allow her to hold him above the surface, knowing he was safe from drowning in her embrace, for she wasn't the siren he'd first met anymore. She was a human like him now, and yet, not quite as she could control the element that was his weakness, but he knew she'd never use it against him. She was his partner. She was his lover.

He laid his head on her shoulder, letting his muscles slacken completely since he wouldn't need them to keep him afloat. Her arms were wrapped around his torso to keep him close to her as she couldn't sink and he was free to just enjoy the feeling of her skin pressed against his back as the water worked its magic of cleansing them from the entire experience of the battle they'd just participated in, taking away the strain and hurt of it. He closed his eyes and sighed blissfully.

"Aren't you tired of this?" Griffin's voice was a little too loud and disturbed his peace but it was just because she was talking right next to his ear. The current position didn't allow for much else and he didn't want her pulling away so he'd find a way to make do.

He loved listening to her lulling voice now that there was no danger of him falling under her spell, or rather, falling even more under her spell because she had him. She'd had him from the first moment he'd seen her, but now that she was less magic and more human, and more tender than anyone he'd ever met, he couldn't help but sink into the love she was offering so readily even after his mistake to try to force her to be his.

"I don't think it's possible for me to get tired of the quiet moments like this one," he murmured as he turned his head towards her neck, his lips brushing against her skin as they moved and he felt the shiver running through her. Her neck was sensitive and he was amazed she trusted him to be so close to it with his teeth after she'd had to spend hours healing the scar of his mark and enjoyed the caresses of his lips over the newly generated skin. He loved that, loved to see her react to the love that she wasn't used to getting either. It reassured him that he was just as good at giving as she was and he hoped that could make up for what he'd tried to take from her, knowingly and not so much.

Her arms shifted as if she wanted to bring a hand to his face to stroke it, but she didn't release her hold on him, knowing it had the potential of setting panic in his vulnerable being. Water was her domain and he was in the very real danger of drowning if she let go of him. So she made sure to hold him at all times and it was the most secure he'd ever felt, knowing that he was in the arms of someone who truly cared for him. In the arms of someone who had all the reasons to hate him, and yet, she never had. She loved him and he trusted her.

"I mean, aren't you tired of doing your mothers' dirty work and getting punished by them whenever the smallest thing goes sideways?" she spoke again, her voice quieter this time but it was the question that really disturbed him, and it seemed to do the same to the water as he couldn't feel its soothing effect on him anymore, but that could be caused by the tension that crept back into his muscles.

His eyes snapped open and he could now feel the stiffness of her body that was starting to infect him too. "You think I had a say in all of this, that I had a choice?" he asked, bitterness surfacing instantly, plummeting into him with the force of a tsunami as if in an attempt to pull him out of her hold on him. "This is what my mothers want," he said, trying to rein in his voice and not snap at her. It wasn't her fault, for she had just as much control as he did, and that was none. His mothers held the reins and controlled them like they were some unruly animals that deserved nothing but to be pushed past their limits and punished when they stumbled in their exhaustion. And how could he want that? How could he want to be treated like less than human, especially when she was there and treated him like a god?

"And what do you want?" Griffin asked, catching him off guard and he had to grab at her arms to make sure he hadn't fallen into the water and it was the lack of oxygen that was making him hallucinate. "What is your heart's desire?" Griffin murmured in his ear before she brushed her lips against his cheek, tracing half-kisses over the skin she could reach without moving too much and taking him out of the state of mind she was deliberately seducing him into. One of her hands started drawing patterns in the flesh of his abdomen, too, pointing his whole attention to her and what she was doing to him as well as towards pleasing her so that she wouldn't stop. She couldn't tell what he really wanted without her siren powers but she certainly hadn't forgotten how to tempt.

"I want freedom," he said as he allowed her to drag him into the fantasy of the life he wanted, even if he knew he could never have it. "I want to be with you somewhere so far away from them that we can't even remember they exist," he said trying to fight the wishful thinking, for it would be too painful when he had to wake up from his dreams, but his heart didn't let him. Or it may have been the feeling of her caresses that had him imagining a peaceful life for the two of them, with a house where they could wake up however late they wanted and he could drink his coffee while she had her tea in comfortable silence or they could spend all day in bed, laughing and talking, and kissing, and perhaps doing some more. Griffin could have her garden–growing plants seemed to be her thing and she loved the feeling of mud on her skin–and he could do historical research and be an independent archaeologist, hunting down artifacts lost for thousands of years. They could watch movies or go out to dinner dates in the evenings and fall asleep in each other's arms after a long exhausting day.

"Then let's leave," Griffin said, her tone carrying the roar of the ocean during a storm and it made him turn around quickly in her arms, almost forgetting that he had to hold on to her because he couldn't reach the bottom of the lake as far inside it as they were, and clap a hand over her mouth, listening carefully as he half expected the ground to freeze as the leaves broke off the branches and whirled around, carried by the wind that was only speeding up, while the trees morphed into monsters and their roots pulled him out of Griffin's grasp and underwater to drown him for the lack of loyalty.

"We can't," he hissed, still on edge even if it seemed like his mothers hadn't heard the blasphemy that had left her mouth. They could be lulling them into a false sense of security, waiting to strike when it would hurt most, which meant that he might never have a moment's peace again. He'd known it had been dangerous to let himself get sucked into the fantasy of a life where he was free of them and now it was too late to stop her from challenging them to take away from him what he already had, to pull her out of his embrace and find a way to drown her even though she could breathe underwater. "I'm not strong enough to oppose them," he shook his head regretfully as his hand fell away from her mouth since all of his energy had drained now. Or perhaps it was because he was hoping she could tell him something that would cure his mind from the memories surfacing in it, memories of the abuse he'd been subjected to because he hadn't been good enough and because he'd found someone who thought he was, contradicting their opinion.

His mothers hated Griffin with a burning passion, for she had shown him there was more than what they had led him to believe, that he was more than they'd made him feel like. She hadn't cared for their rules and had refused to follow their agenda even after they'd demonstrated why they were so infamous and widely feared. They'd only spared her because she was willing to follow him into fire–and she was terrified of it–and her loyalty to him was useful to them as she was watching his back, making battles safer for him with her partnership, even resorting to killing people if they threatened him although she still struggled with the souls on her conscience, and missions more productive with her strategies.

It'd turned out she was very useful with her resourcefulness and knowledge on guarding powerful artifacts and that had become the one thing granting her life. That and the fact that he was still obeying their orders, so he couldn't let her compelling sense of rebellion take over him. He couldn't risk losing her–not even for the chance to be free with her–when she was his treasure, the only thing he wanted. He couldn't let his greed take her away.

"Maybe not," Griffin said, making his heart sink to hear her confirm the sentiment even when he knew it to be true and he had to be glad that she was listening to common sense and not to her idealism. He may have freed her but he was still trapped and as long as she loved him, she was bound to suffer his fate too. And it was selfish of him to want her to stay in his cage as well, but he was only feeling free when she was with him. She made him want to wake up in the morning so that he could gaze in her golden eyes that were much more breathtaking than the dawn. "But I know we can do it together," she said as she cupped his face and prompted him to look at her, her other arm under his own, holding on to him even when he was grasping at her shoulders with both of his hands, for she'd promised she wouldn't let him drown. Not in water, and not in sorrow or pain.

He raised a hand to run through her hair, careful not to tear a hair away now that they got wet from water and tangled together, trying to ground himself when the emotions were tossing him in all directions in their roaring sea. "Aren't you scared of them?" he whispered, his own voice cowering and running away in his attempt to hide from the memories flooding his mind.

She'd opposed them to stop them from hurting him even after he'd told her to never do that. There was no need to since she could heal what they damaged later, and he was afraid for her own well-being because they couldn't get rid of him but nothing was stopping them from taking her apart whenever the whim struck. She'd still stood up for him–like no one else in his life had ever done–and they'd taken her in his place. Belladonna's frost had reached deep into her soul, finding her water essence and starting to freeze her slowly from the very core of her being out.

He'd managed to save her only because his mother had let go–he still couldn't forget the absolute terror that had shaken him profoundly as Griffin's frozen body had just barely fallen into his open arms instead of on the floor which would have undoubtedly had her shatter in pieces in front of his eyes–and he had the Dragon Fire. He'd had to use it to unfreeze her even despite the knowledge of how much she feared it, and he'd been trembling along with her from the terror that was now engraved in both their hearts when she'd hugged him with her arms still cold as death. They'd almost managed to make her hate water, the element she was made of. She could only stand it if it was warmed up by his magic now, and for the first time he felt like the heat of his Dragon Fire wasn't enough because he couldn't melt the chilling memories out of her head to help her relax.

"Of course, I'm scared," Griffin said, her hand falling from his face and over his heart. "I'm terrified," she whispered, tears filling her eyes and she looked down as if to gather strength from the knowledge that she could touch his heart whenever she wanted. He would always allow her to touch every part of him, especially when it helped her calm down. "But that's exactly why we have to leave," she said as she looked at him again, her eyes almost aflame with the determination that filled them and the reflection of it in her tears only doubled the effect. "I don't want to live in fear," she said, her hand cupping his neck as if to make sure his heart wouldn't start racing just from the mention of the emotion that had been instilled in him ever since he'd been little, but even her touch couldn't help when she was the one to bring it up. She just had to let it go, focus on the water and make it carry the pain of the wounds on his body away while her touch forced the fear to retreat all the way to the back of his mind where it practically didn't exist, swallowed by the dark chasm around. "I want to be free," Griffin said, as she grasped at his shoulder, her touch having the words sink into his skin and reach his heart, making it impossible to forget them. "With you," she added quickly with all the strength of the ocean that wore rocks away.

He drew her closer, leaning in to touch his forehead against hers and wrapping his arms around her in an embrace that he hoped could soothe the violent yearning in his soul. Of course he wanted to be free with her, wanted to be able to touch her whenever he wanted without the screaming panic in his mind that if he didn't do as his mothers wanted, they would take her away and it could be the last time he was touching her and feeling her love caressing him from all around as he was plunged deep into it. He wanted to be able to live and not simply exist in a state of constant fear. But the thought of losing her scared him infinitely more. He'd prefer to lose his Dragon Fire rather than her. It might be the element of life, but without her there was no life for him. Not after he'd gotten so used to her smiles and kisses that wove a bit more of her love into his being every time she gifted him with them.

"I would love nothing more," he said, moving a hand to stroke her cheek and feel her spill into him, "but I can't risk losing you," he pulled away, hating himself when his words forced her to harden and open her eyes for him to see the golden wasn't as shiny as it had been when his warmth had stoked her feelings. But his cowardice had always been stronger than his faith in himself.

"We can do it," Griffin said, letting go of him to cup his face with both hands and he grabbed on to her tighter not because he was afraid she'd let anything happen to him, but because he was afraid her own uncontrollable passion would whisk her away from him. "Together," Griffin said, the word dripping on his heart like honey in the sweetness of which he would gladly drown, tempting him again, but this time towards allowing her demise and he had to resist if he wanted to have any kind of future with her. "We're partners, fire and water working together, opposites melding into one whole," Griffin continued, pulling him even more into her and making his body relax when hers was pressed into him so closely. Her words reached deep into his mind, pulling forth the memories of all their victories and the feeling of invincibility he always felt when his magic tangled with hers and their souls danced together, causing him to open his grip and wrap his arms around her waist instead to keep any space from coming between them. And he could never be sure that that would always be the case while under his mothers' reign. "We can do everything when we're together," Griffin said, giving one last push even though he'd already jumped into her net, knowing she would catch him and hold on to him. Always.

He leaned in to kiss her and seal his promise to her that they'd be free to be together for the rest of eternity. Their breath mingled together and the traces of salt on hers that stayed there no matter how much honey she would put in her tea fueled his inner flames, making them burn away every last shadow of doubt trying to hide in his mind. There was no place for those when he was all filled with her faith in him and in the love they shared.

Griffin wrapped her arms around his neck and slowly pulled them under the surface of the lake, giving him time to panic if he needed to but he didn't. He had no reason to fear anything when she was with him–not water, and not his mothers–and that was proven as he felt oxygen rush into his lungs once the water covered them fully. Griffin's magic was sucking the oxygen out of it and giving it to the two of them instead which allowed them to kiss for as long as they wanted when they were underwater. And he allowed himself to sink into the endless love that was spilling from them and rippling through the water of the lake, making it vibrant with the element of life.

To clarify: Griffin isn't a siren anymore but she still has magic and a lot of it is water-based. She can't sink and she can use her magic to suck out the oxygen from the water but only when she is completely submerged and has no other way of breathing. She can also transfer some of the oxygen she gets that way to Valtor which practically allows them to kiss for hours if they so feel the need (and they do ;)).

#winx club #winx valtor #winx griffin #griffin x valtor #covenshipping #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #siren au #love can be a trap that sets you free #ancestral witches

[zhimaqiu]

I haven't actually heard about your ocs! Do you mind telling me some details about them or just one, depends on how much you want to write, I love hearing about peoples ocs! :)

Promised tag for @that-was-anticlimactic

Because I got 2 asks about my OCs I decided to split them for 2 parts. Those who are more connected and those who are looser.

Tip: Read all of the descriptions. Most of the characters are deeply connected with themselves and the story of one completes the story of the other.

Elden Arlo Jorgensen

Elemental master of emotions, the main villain of my Ninjago fanseason “Resurgence” and also the leader of the South Rebellion. His elemental power gives him the ability to control the emotions of people around him, which makes him great manipulator. Fights with two-bladed staff with the ability to disconnect for two katanas but definitely prefers to convince aggressor to join his side.

Backstory: Because of his father’s oath, he was forbidden to use his power. The only light in his life is his youthful love, Desaria, and best friend, Anagan. Even, after all, he came through he would never want to hurt people. He just wanted to forget about his home, family. After his father’s death, he was finally free and decided to join Order of the Samurais, royal warriors of the emperor. He had a noble goal. Seeing how people of south suffer, decided to do everything to also set them free. Training for a guard would make him get so close to the Emperor he could convince him to stop using the south part of Ninjago just as a source of natural resources. Everything fell when he found ancient artefact which possessed him, tempting with power and messing in his head. It convinced him to create a rebellion where people of Ninjago could fight for their freedom by themselves, make him less... emotional. He didn’t care when people get hurt, he didn’t care when his body started to be ripping apart. The only thing he cared about was his love and noble goal.

Little from the author: Actually I’m working about the redesign of him. On this art, he looks a little too old and this is not fitting his character well. Elden is my first serious OC. All of them before were just some loose characters with a lot of similarity to myself, just for writing a little story. He has a special place in my heart. For some time he was my favourite OC but actually, he’s just the one I can’t forget about.

Desaria Bailar

*sadly I have no drawing of her*

Elemental master of vision, kabuki dancer and ally of the ninja. Her elemental power gives her the ability to create visions in the minds of beings around her. By touching someone, she can let this person show her his/her own imagination or memory. To use her power she needs a lot of confidence, otherwise, her visions are blurred just like uncertain dreams.

Backstory: Desaria grew up in the same village as Elden. They knew each other from diapers. Maybe not literally. Elden is three years older but they hang up together through all of their childhood. She never saw Elden as someone more than a brother or best friend. And anyway, he has never told her that he has some feelings to her. He knows that he shouldn't be falling in love with her because of her age so he was patiently waiting for her to grow up. Unfortunately, their paths have separated. When she was 15, her parents send her to the Academy of traditional song and dance. Her talent, ability and also elemental power helped her enter into the travel kabuki group which has given performances through all of the Ninjago.  

Little from the author: To be honest, from all of my OCs I like her the least. She’s more like a side character, someone who just completes Elden’s story and I don’t really want to change it. Her backstory is not so important for the plot so I’m not developing her more than I have to. 

Anagan Atherton

*no image too*

Elemental master of revision, second in command of the rebellion. His elemental power gives him an ability to fix objects from their ashes/parts and see the past of things. He can also experience people's memories. He fights with a battle axe! (and his charm lmao)

Backstory: During the chaos, Lloyd and Pythor caused by releasing Serpentine, he lost his younger brother, Elden. He decided to devote his life to serving the Emperor's family as the Royal Samurai. While training in their monastery he started to see defects and mistakes of the authority. When Elden Jorgensen entered Order, he quickly became his best friend. Elden's name and behaviour reminded him of his departed brother, made him have a weakness to him. He was susceptible to his impact that Elden didn't even have to use his power to convince him to make some of his ideas true. Both planned how in a peaceful way convince the government to stop injustice on South. When Elden got possessed he came to Anagan and explained to him there won't be any nonviolent option to fight if it and the only one is rebellion. He wasn't so sure about it but tried to hide his doubts and follow his companion.

Little from the author: His backstory is also not so clear but in contrast to Desaria, I really like his character. He doesn't need any long past because the most valuable things to him are happening "here and now" in my fanseasons Resurgence and Lost Heritage.

Yin

*no pic either*

Descendant of the Overlord. Strange creature parted to 3 souls. Mind, Power and Strength. I can't say much about it but in general, they together create something that powerful I won't overdo if I say it's one of the greatest danger for the whole world.

Backstory: Yin was created by Overlord before he was exiled on Dark Island. Yin was weak and couldn't help its Father against First Spinjitzu Master. When Ninjago was parted, Overlord understood that Yin is, for now, his only way to escape Dark Island and devour Ninjago. Using most of the reserves of his power, he gave them worst parts of the Oni and Dragon, increased its power and send to Ninjago. Yin spent years on getting know light side and trying to find its weakest sides. But when it tried to conquer Ninjago for his Father, elemental masters stand against him. Yin didn't know about its own weaknesses and was defeated. The Mind was closed in an artefact, Power body of demon hid in the tomb somewhere in the light side of Ninjago, what happened to the imperishable Dragon - nobody knows.

Little from the author: What can I say... I love my little Overlord's fanboye

Part 2 - *soon there will appear link to it*

#ask #ninjago ocs #oc: elden #elden jorgensen #oc: desaria #desaria bailar #ninjago elden #ninjago desaria #oc: anagan #anagan atherton #ninjago anagan #oc: yin #ninjago yin #ninjago resurgence #ninjago lost heritage

[in-arlathan]

The Scar

Time period: Elvhenan Characters: Solas, Mythal, Elvhen OC Chapters: 1/1, Length: 2,620 words Rating: Mature Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: Driven by the desire the become one of the Evanuris, an elvhen mage summons a spirit of wisdom and tricks it into taking on a physical body to impress the all-mighty Mythal. Disgusted by what the mage had done, the All-Mother sides with the former spirit and helps him to free himself from his mistress's bindings, owning the name the mage has given to him: Solas.

A/N: This is an updated version of the fanfic I posted over @old-arlathan. Now with 50% less typos and more accurate terminology for the Elvhenan timeline. ;)

You can read this on AO3, too.

______

“He did not want a body. But she asked him to come.   He left a scar when he burned her off his face.”

– Cole

Her blood pooled around his feet, thick and dark as the night. He shuddered and stepped back, away from the dead woman who’s blood he’d spilled across the ancient marble floor. Her arms and legs lay twisted as if they belonged to a puppet rather than a living being. He dropped his hands and the spell faded away, leaving nothing behind but a gaping hole in his heart.

His mistress was dead and he had killed her.

“Well, that is that, I presume,” Mythal mused.

Sitting on her golden throne, the All-Mother had watched the fight in absolute silence. If she felt disgust or horror upon the murder, he could not tell. Her face was still, her breaths long and steady.

She is justice incarnate, he thought.

Is that why she had allowed him to kill his mistress? Because she thought it was just? He wanted to believe it so very badly. Maybe it would keep the darkness at bay that grew within him with every passing moment.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Mythal asked. Her voice was soft and candid. It was a gift he did not deserve.

“I… I don’t know,” he said, wiping away droplets of sweat that had gathered on his forehead. The fight had been much more exhausting than he had expected.

Slowly, the All-Mother rose from her throne and came towards him. Her rich green robes rustled softly as she descended from the dais, her steps echoing from the high stone walls of her Throne chamber.

“I remember the day she presented you before my court,” she said with her eyes fixed on the dead body on the floor in front of her. “She all but burst with pride while she told the tale of your summoning. A spirit of wisdom, eager to share his knowledge with The People, yet too kind to recognize an enemy on sight.”

He swallowed, hard. He, too, remember this tale. Remembered it all too well. It had become a part of his being, just like the body he inhabited.

“She learned everything she could from you,” Mythal continued, “and when you had finally shared all of your knowledge of the Beyond, she lured you into a body, binding you to the Waking World.”

Mythal lifted her hand ever so slightly. Still, he could feel the wave of energy flaring up around her as she drew power from the Beyond to cast her spell. Blazing fire erupted from the corpse, cloaking the body of his former mistress in flames. The air wavered and filled with the smell of burnt flesh.

Another wave of Mythal’s hand and the blood began flowing towards the tiny fissures in the marble floor and sank into the stone. He breathed a sigh a of relief as the dark fluid vanished.

They watched in silence as the flames consumed the dead woman’s body and when the fire finally died down, it was as if his mistress had never even existent. For a moment, they heard nothing but the song of birds and the sound of whispering leaves from the forest outside Mythal’s palace.

The All-Mother let out a sigh of regret. “I told her that her pride would be her undoing.” Her gaze turned to him. “Or should I say her Pride?”

A shiver worked its way down his spine. Until this day, his mistress had called him Pride, her Solas, for he was the embodiment of her strength, the manifestation of her will. For a while, he had liked that name, until he came to realize that he was but a means to an end. Now he wished the name belonged to someone else.

He raised a hand to touch the skin on his cheeks. Though he could not feel it, he knew the lines of his vallaslin by heart. His fingers traced the curved markings while he thought about the day when his mistress had presented him to Mythal and her courtiers. Back then, he was still trying to get used to his body and was too confused by the powerplay unfolding before his eyes to understand it. It was an irony, really, how little he had known about elvhen politics, even after spending years and years in friendly conversation with one of Elvhenan's most powerful mages.

“This spirit of wisdom possesses more knowledge than any other I have ever encountered,” his mistress had said to Mythal. “I devote him to you, All-Mother, as a sign of my loyalty to you, and grace him with your vallaslin.”

At that moment, Mythal had had no other choice but to accept her gift. She would have been seen as cruel or unkind by her courtiers if she hadn’t. So the All-Mother watched as his mistress ingrained the vallaslin in his skin with magic. The pain had been almost unbearable but he had been too proud to show his agony in front of the assembled elvhen. Instead, he had bitten his lips until they were bloody and kept silent.

Maybe some of his mistress’ pride had rubbed off on him when she’d help him take on a physical form.

So I truly am Solas, he thought bitterly.

“There is something you must tell me,” Mythal said. “How did she convince you to enter this realm?”

He blinked, taken by surprise. “How do you know she did not bind me like she claimed?”

A soft chuckle escaped Mythal’s lips.

“All elvhen were like you once, Solas, exisiting freely within the Beyond,” she explained. “Only those with the will to change their form were able to enter this world and manifest themselves in a physical body. Many ages ago, I, myself, was what you might call a spirit of justice, and when I saw the many wrongs that happened in the Waking World, I could not resist to enter it to set things right. That is why I know that no spirit can be bound into a body without its consent. Otherwise, it could never hold on to a physical form long enough to survive the journey to the Waking world.“

She looked him over. “But you are a person. You have a purpose. This means you came to this world by will, not by force. So tell me, what made you come here?”

He sighed. “I was curious. She had told me so much about this world and its wonders and I was … excited by her enthusiasm. I wanted to walk among The People and learn everything they had to offer so I could pass their wisdom on to other spirits. But when I’d taken my body, I …”

His voice trailed off.

“When you had taken your body, you found that you could not return to your spirit form,” Mythal said, finishing the sentence for him.

“Yes.”

The word tasted bitter in his mouth. He had never admitted his failure so openly before. The pain was simply too much to bear.

His desire to learn had made him foolish. He had been so eager to gain wisdom that he did not see the woman who had summoned him for what she really was. He’d simply assumed that she was a kindred spirit, a seeker of truth and knowledge, just like him. Learning from her had excited him and he had trusted her to guide him into his body. But then his friend used his trust to turn him into her pet to parade him around the rest of The People. Only then he realized the terrible mistake he’d made and he had regretted it ever since.

“You are not the first spirit to make this mistake and you won’t be the last,” Mythal said. “When taking on our physical form, we gain a stronger sense of self and a power that is beyond any spirit. It allows us to shape the world around us. But we also lose our ability to become one with the Fade. We can only dream of the world we have lost and try to make a difference in this one.”

Another moment of silence passed. “She should have told you about the consequences,” Mythal said. “But I wonder why you haven’t turned your back on her after her betrayal. She may have lured you into this world, but she never truly commanded you. Still, you called her mistress.”

“It was spiritual affinity that kept me by her side, though I never forgave her for luring me into taking a body,” he admitted. “I was perfectly happy as I was, back in the Beyond. But she was my friend and I thought I owed her for what she had given me.”

“I see,” Mythal said, her voice heavy with sadness. “I’m sorry.”

“I do not deserve your sympathy,” he replied.

“And why is that?”

“Because I wish to burn the vallaslin off my face. Your vallaslin.” The words came out in a rush, like a tide that had been held back for far too long. He closed his eyes and pressed his hands against his face. He imagined the lines of the blood writing burning brightly on his skin, just like the fire Mythal had cast to get rid of his mistress’s body. “I want to take it away and leave all memory of what was behind.”

“Well, take it off then,” Mythal said with a soft smile. “No one is stopping you.”

It took him a moment to understand what she truly meant. And when the realization finally hit him, he blinked in surprise yet again. He lowered his hands to look at Mythal. “But it would be an insult to you!”, he insisted. “The People would see it as a great offense if I rejected your patronage.”

The All-Mother laughed. “It was your mistress who offended me by thinking it would impress me that she tricked a trusting spirit into taking a body. It was her who offended me in wanting my patronage, not for the good of The People, but to rise in rank and to become one of the Evanuris. That is why I tempted you to kill her, you know. To right her wrongs.”

She reached out to him and touched his cheek gently. “Others might think you denied yourself to me, but I know that is not true. I wish you to act on your own accords and honor me with your deeds. Thus, you could never offend me, Solas, even if you tried.”

The way she said his name made him shiver. It sounded so different from the way his mistress had said it. As if Mythal was proud of him, not for being a particularly powerful spirit, but for freeing himself at last.

“Go on, now”, she said and gifted him with an encouraging smile. “Take off the vallaslin and leave your past behind.”

“But I don’t know how,” he admitted. “Will you help me?”

“Oh, no.” Mythal shook her head slightly. “You are perfectly capable of removing the blood writing on your own. It is one of the few benefits of possessing a physical body: You may shape it to your will. But beware that you will be the first of your kind, for no other elvhen had felt the desire to take the vallaslin away. It will be a wonder to behold.”

He looked at her for a moment, baffled by her confidence in him. How could she be so sure about his power when he himself doubted it so much?

Before he knew it, she took his hand into her own and squeezed them. “Do it,” she urged. “I know you can.”

Encouraged by her words, he slowly, very slowly, allowed himself to believe in his own strengths.

She let go and he stretched out his hands before him. With every fiber of his body, he opened up to the energy of the Fade, allowing it to fill him up like wine poured into a golden goblet. Sparks of light spread from his fingertips across his palm, a flash of blue and green and white, mingled together.

He brought his hands up to his face and closed his eyes. In his mind, he pictured the fine lines of the vallaslin once more. He saw it burn, bright as day. Then he traced his fingers across his face, imagining the light from his hands spreading across his skin. He felt a soft tingle and then a sting on his forehead.

When he was done, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Did I work?” he asked Mythal, and she beamed at him, proud like a mother.

“You left a scar,” she said softly, touching a small spot above his right eyebrow. “But yes, it worked.”

She was so close to him he could feel the warmth of her body, but he did not mind.

“I’d rather wear a scar on my face then any vallaslin,” he told her, “for I created it myself.”

“You will bring glory to The People,” she said. “I’m proud to call you kin.”

And then, the tears finally came.

He closed his arms around Mythal’s slender figure and buried his face against her shoulder. And while he wept, his body shaking, she remained silent and held him like a mother would.

After a while, he ran out of tears and became very still in her arms. A part of him waited for her to push him away, now that he had freed himself of his mistress’s influence completely. But instead, Mythal waited until he himself was ready to let go.

“What happens now?” he asked in a raspy voice.

“That is up to you. With your mistress gone, you are free to go wherever you please in the Waking world. Vir Dirthara might be a good place to start. I’m sure Ghil Dirthalen will be happy to offer you guidance.”

“I will consider it,” he said. “Thank you, All-Mother.”

“You may call me Mythal.”

He smiled for what felt like the first time in ages. “I could never do that.”

They looked at each other for a moment. A bond had built between them and they both knew it. Their spirits were joined for as long as they might live and they were united in thankfulness for this rare gift.

“I should leave,” he said at last. “I have taken enough of your time.”

Mythal sighed. “I’m afraid you have,” she said. “There are other matters to attend to. But I hope you will return soon, my friend, and tell me what you have learned while we were apart.”

“I will. I promise.”

And with that, he made his way to the door. When he had entered the throne room, he had been a spirit, bound by the will of another. Now he had become something different. He was scared of what awaited him outside these halls, afraid of the world and the future and his own powers, but he would find a way for himself.

“Oh, one more thing.”

Mythal spoke in a low voice but her words carried all the way to the throne room’s door without fading.

He turned around to face her once more, his hands clasped behind his back. “Yes, All-Mother?”

Mythal’s face lit up as their eyes met. She reminded him of the moon rising over a mountain ridge in a dark and stormy night. It was in that moment that she earned his undying devotion, his eternal love, and gratitude.

“Despite any regret or pain or guilt you might feel,” she said with a glimmer in her golden eyes, “you should be proud of yourself. Always.”

....

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #solas #mythal #ancient elves #elvhen #elvhenan #vallaslin removal #hurt/comfort #in-arlathan-FF

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Why Would I?

Pairing: Dean x best friend!reader

Story Summary: You are trying to take your mind off of the previous events of having to bury the man you loved and no longer wanting to hunt anymore now that your best friend was dead. One day while you were fixing cars for Bobby a very tempting offer comes along, Will you take it or will you let your best friend rot in hell for eternity?

Warnings: Fluff, angsty, that’s it really I guess.

Word Count: 1,827

"I'm sorry Dean I wish I could've saved you and stopped this, but I couldn't..."

"Y/N it's not your fault, there was nothing we could do to save him we tried our best."

"I know Sam but I can't help it. He was my best friend and I loved him. I never even got the opportunity to tell him that, or anything remotely close to how I felt about him. Now I will never be able to."

That was four months ago, and here I am at Bobby's place fixing my car and wishing I would've taken Bobby's offer of taking calls today. Sam left me here alone to go off and do god knows what without a trace or even a word, and, well life hasn't been easy since Dean died, for me or Bobby.

"Hey Y/N, how's it coming along out here?" Bobby asked walking out to the garage holding out a beer for me.

"Thanks. It's coming along I guess. I mean I've been having a hard time concentrating today."

"Did you have a rough night again last night? Not one of those nightmares?" Bobby asked all concerned and bless his heart for worrying about me and my lack of sleep.

"Yeah, the dreams are getting worse and more frequent. The one I had last night was so vivid, my ears physically hurt from him screaming. I was not only crying because of the nightmare but from the pain I was in." I said before taking a sip of my beer.

"Well if you need anything from me you just let me know and I will do what I can, but for now you need rest, and fixing this car is not gonna help you." He said before he went to go back inside.

It was starting to get harder and harder to concentrate on what I was trying accomplish, and I started to realize Bobby was right I needed to rest instead of working on the car. As I was about to head inside I turn around and there is a weird dressed man standing behind me.

"Hello Y/N," he spoke up in a Scottish accent,

"And you are?"

"The name's Cowley. I'm here about your friend Dean Winchester. You know your friend in hell?"

"What about him? And what are you and how do you know Dean and that he's in hell?" As soon as I asked he flashed these red weird looking demon eyes at me.

"I'm a crossroads demon, well King of the Crossroads actually."

"I didn't summon you so what the hell do you want?"

"I know you didn't summon me. I want to make a deal with you though. You're the only one we'll bargain with since younger Winchester killed one of my employees. You have something I want and I have something you want so we're even."

"We are not 'even' not even close. I'm sorry but I would like to keep my soul intact thank you very much."

"Oh I haven't even told you the best part, I just want your powers and you can keep your soul, but you must die in order for me to have what I want. So what do you..."

"The answer is still the same. I am a good friend and his last dying wish to me was to not make the same mistake he did. I will respect that, plus I don't want to. What's the point of bringing back someone who no matter what will never look at you more than a best friend? So, no I will not deal whatever you want away for Dean Winchester. He can rot in hell for all I care. My life is so much easier without him." I knew that I was lying, but I knew that I was partially telling the truth. I had loved Dean since I first met him 16 years ago. I didn't want him back though because it would just break my heart even more than it was.

"Fine have your way but if you change your mind you know how to reach me." He said and then he was gone.

I ran inside. I didn't know what to do, I thought I must be dreaming. I needed to tell Bobby, to ask if it was even possible for a crossroads demon to appear without being summoned.

"It could be possible I mean they tend to go out looking for vulnerable victims. You didn't make a deal did you?" he asked concerned.

"Bobby, you know I would never do that."

"Yeah, but lately you've been non stop working on that car and been alone most of the day, you just never know anymore."

"You think I would go against my best friend's last dying wish and make a deal when I promised I wouldn't?"

"I was just making sure your head was in the right place I know these last few months haven't been easy, and that's on me I can only imagine how you feel."

"Yeah well I may be in a bad place but to be honest I know the difference between a bad place and a stupid decision."

"Good well why don't you go clean up and I'll get some food goin' for ya."

"Thanks Bobby."

I took off up the stairs to the spare room I was staying in and washed up. I could hear Bobby yelling at someone on the phone thinking that maybe someone wasn't listening to him about a hunt or something.

I had just gotten ready to put my hair up in a simple braid when I heard yelling and things falling and breaking downstairs. I ran down and hid in behind the door frame leading from the living room to the kitchen when I heard a strange voice, a voice that strange yet familiar.

"I'm not a demon either," the man said.

"Can never be to careful."

"So how's Sam?" The voice asked and I could hear them walking toward the doorway where I was standing.

"Alive as far as I know."

"What do you mean as far as you know?" He asked furious sounding but he had stopped to talk to Bobby, what I could tell half way from where he was and where I was hiding.

"These last few months haven't been exactly easy we had to bury you?"

"Why did you anyway?"

"Y/N and I wanted you salted and burned the usual drill but Sam wanted a body for when he got you back somehow."

"Speak of the devil where is she? Don't tell me she took off too. If she did she's dead I know it. Damn it Bobby."

"Hold on there Y/N is fine, she's just upstairs cleaning up. Y/N come on down here." Bobby yelled and that was my cue to come out of hiding.

"What is it Bobby...Dean" I literally breathed the man's name. My best friend in the entire world who I buried four months ago was standing right in front of me good as new.

"Yeah I know I look fantastic huh?" He teased, same old Dean.

"Yeah I mean you really do."

"Alright hold on one second how long have you been standing there?" Bobby asked sounding enraged.

"Since you threw holy water on him."

"Damn it Y/N you told you didn't make that deal and not five minutes after you go upstairs I get calls from someone claiming to be Dean and two hours later here he is on my doorstep. Am I supposed to believe you didn't lip lock with this demon to make a deal to bring your best friend back?"

"Yes Bobby because I told you the truth. I wouldn't make a deal ever he made me promise not to so I didn't. I would've but my promises are as good and as truthful as I am. Trust me I would never make a deal."

"You went to a crossroads but didn't deal anything?" Dean asked confused.

"A crossroads demon came to me, wanting something of mine. He wanted my psychic abilities but I turned them down."

"So you didn't make a deal?" Dean asked sounding more confused than before.

"Why would I? They didn't have anything worth making a deal for and I wasn't about to deal my abilities away in the hopes they were telling the truth and could even bring you back. So no I didn't. Sorry to disappoint."

"Well then Sam back okay. Better than okay whatever he made a deal with, it's bad mojo," then he showed us his arm and there right below his shoulder was a huge hand print branded onto his skin, "you think that was bad you should see the gravesite it was like a nuclear detonator went off and whatever it was brushed passed at a gas station too."

Things went well when we finally found Sam in Pontiac 5 minutes away from where Dean was planted and popped back up.

Dean decided, since even the local demons that we're hanging were scared of this thing, to summon the thing to see it for real face to face. Even though a good friend just got her eyes burnt out from taking a peek at this thing.

"I'm glad you didn't make a deal," Dean said genuinely glad that I kept my promise.

"I will always keep my promises to you no matter what. My word is my word and no matter what nothing will ever break the bond of a promise I make. Especially when it comes to you

Winchester."

"That's good. If I didn't make you promise me though, would you have made the deal?"

"Dean, you're my best friend, but I saw how torn up you were when your dad made a deal for you. I couldn't put you through that again no matter what I wanted I just couldn't do that to you. You probably would have never forgiven me."

"Not never I would just be really mad at you for a long period of time."

Suddenly the roof started to shake we got in position to fight whatever this thing was.

It broke open the door and walked right through ever trap we had painted on the floor. When it got closer Dean tried to stab it with the demon knife and that didn't even leave barely a scratch. He then walked over to Bobby and knocked him out with just the touch of his fingers.

"Who are you?"

"I am Castiel."

"I got that, but I mean what are you?"

"I'm an angel of the Lord."

"No way angels don't exist."

"We do exist Y/N you just chose not to believe anymore," lightning flashed and we could see the outline of his wings, "we have work for you, both of you." He said looking toward me when he said both.

Great this job just keeps getting more interesting everyday.

#dean x reader #dean winchester #lazarus rising #castiel #crowley #spn #supernatural

[douchebagbrainwaves]

BUT SOMETHING SEEMS TO COME WITH PRACTICE

But as technologies for recording and playing back your life improve, it may actually help, in cultivating intelligence, to have as much in it as all knowledge up to that point. By seeming unable even to cut a grapefruit in half let alone go to the store and buy one, he forced other people to do unpleasant jobs is the draft, and that may hamper you from thinking about taste, even as yours grows. This is the second half of launching fast. But surely a necessary, if not sufficient, condition was that people who made fortunes be able to recognize it. But money is just the kind that tends to be set in stone. It would not be.1 And a good thing, there do seem to be an assistant professor. Your tastes will change. Unfortunately, there is a degenerate case where what someone wants you to do is execute. They won't be replaced wholesale. Compositional symmetry yields some of the time.

This is ridiculous, really. This fallacy is usually there in the background when you hear someone talking about how x percent of the population have y percent of the population have y percent of the population have y percent of the population have y percent of the population have y percent of the wealth.2 Some angels, especially those with technology backgrounds, may be satisfied with a search result than going to the site and buying something? The first was the rule of law. An optimization marketplace would be a bit frightening—that's starting to sound like a company where the technical side, at least to yourself, that there is a good hacker, between about 23 and 38, and who wants to solve the money problem once and for all instead of working for the Post Office your whole life to your work. Most of our educational traditions aim at wisdom. When everyone feels they're getting a slightly bad deal, because his performance is dragged down by the overall lower performance of the entire company.3

It turns out that no one would invest in a company with several times the power Google has now, but few professors of French literature could make it through a PhD program in French literature, but few professors of French literature could make it through a PhD program in physics. We've now reached that point with stuff. If there is such a thing as good and bad design, then you should probably choose the other. Good people can fix bad ideas, but the overall experience is much better than the others'.4 Business people are bad at open-mindedness is no guarantee. But a very able person who does care about money will ordinarily do better to learn how to hang glide, or to speak a foreign language fluently, that will be enough to make you say, for a time as a mercenary in Africa, for a while. What I will say is that I don't think many people have the physical stamina much past that age. When most people think of startups, they think, than to be a good thing. They didn't care about targeting.

When something pays well but is regarded with contempt, like telemarketing, or prostitution, or personal injury litigation, ambitious people aren't tempted by it. You want to live at the office in a startup. When I went to work there. So how do you know it's not 70%? Once you're allowed to do that? We're looking for things we can't say. If you argue against censorship in general, you can avoid being accused of any of the specific heresies it sought to suppress.5 A startup should give its competitors as little information as possible. But I think it will also be considered to have triumphed, as if to protect against cosmic rays. But if you order results by bid multiplied by transactions, far from selling out, you're getting a better measure of relevance.6 Most good hackers have unbearable personalities, could we stand to have them around?7 In fact, a high average outcome depends mostly on experience, but that dramatic peaks can only be achieved by people with certain rare, innate qualities; nearly anyone can learn to be a better solution.

On one side is the Valley, and on the other is how much you improve their lives. We take applications for funding every 6 months. Are you writing pages of fiction, however bad? -Job route is dangerous because it teaches you so little about what you want, not money. If, like other eras, we believe things that will later turn out to be strange. It's probably less, in fact; it means, I'm not going to make money from it, but if there had been one person with a spell checker reduced one section to Zen-like incomprehensibility: Also, common spelling errors will tend to get founded by self-selecting groups of ambitious people who already know one another, and techniques spread rapidly between them. I left Yahoo in 1999, so I don't know if this one is possible, but there seems a decent chance it's true. I bet a lot of people with technical backgrounds. If IBM had required an exclusive license, as they should have, Microsoft would still have been a bargain to buy us at an early stage, but companies doing acquisitions are not looking for bargains. Two of our three original hackers were in grad school the whole time, and both got their degrees.

Technology will increasingly make it possible to relive our experiences. In this case they were mostly negative lessons: don't have a sales guy running the company? But giving the name wisdom to the supposed quality that enables one to do that. All you need to do is be part of a study. Mapmakers deliberately put slight mistakes in their maps so they can work on more interesting stuff later. And notice the beautiful mountains to the west of 280: Woodside, Portola Valley, Los Altos Hills, Saratoga, Los Gatos. But Palo Alto is getting expensive. It would not merely be bad for your career to say that is, if you asked random people on the street if they'd like to do but can't.

There are specific implications. We didn't know that, so far as it goes. But this time the result may be different from what we think of now as cancer. But wait, here's another that could face even greater resistance: ongoing, automatic medical diagnosis. Instead of concentrating on the features Web consultants and catalog companies would want, we worked to make the universal web site? In those days you could go public as a dogfood portal, so as a company has sunk into technical mediocrity and recovered.8 The point of painting from life is that it has to be is a test. And you have to have a say in running the company; don't make a high-level language, in the sense of getting a quick yes or no. One of the weirdest things about Yahoo when I went to work there. Apple's revenues may continue to rise for a long time, but as far as I can tell it isn't.

So what does Hardy mean when he says there is no way to get rich, or you get nothing. It means much the same. But boy did things seem different. Why do startups have to be developed by entrepreneurs. I put the lower bound at 23 not because there's something wrong with you if you don't do everything you're supposed to do what the teacher says. Cube farms suck for that, as you've probably discovered if you've tried it. Like guerillas, startups prefer the difficult terrain of the mountains, where the troops of the central government can't follow. Applications for the current funding cycle closed on October 17, well after the markets tanked, and even have bad service, and people will keep coming. In fact, a high average may help support high peaks. University Ave would have been very different. Certainly the fact that your competitors don't get it.

Notes

Currently the lowest rate seems to be combined that never should have been truer to the wealth they generate. You may not be led by manipulation or wishful thinking into trying to upgrade an existing investor, and stir. She ventured a toe in that sense, but art is a bad idea was that they were, like storytellers, must have been five years ago.

Doing Business in 2006, http://doingbusiness. Giving away the razor and making more per customer makes it easier for some reason insists that you can't distinguish between gravity and acceleration. Do College English 28 1966-67, pp.

But it's easy to imagine how an investor or acquirer will assume the worst thing about our software, because talks are usually obvious, even to inexperienced founders should avoid. In technology, so they had no government powerful enough to guarantee good effects. If you walk into a few months by buying politicians. Why does society foul you?

Monk, Ray, Ludwig Wittgenstein: The French Laundry in Napa Valley. The markets seem to understand about startups.

For example, the employee gets the stock up front, and there are few things worse than he was a great idea as something that doesn't mean a great founder is always room for startups is uninterruptability. I'm pathologically optimistic about people's ability to change the meaning of distribution. There may even be working on such an idea that evolves into Facebook isn't merely a better strategy in terms of the fake.

But you can get for free. They bear no blame for opinions not expressed in it. Because it's better to be good startup founders, because the money. But they also commit to you as employees by buying their startups.

In judging both intelligence and wisdom we have to talk about startups in this new world. But wide-area bandwidth increased more than determination to create a silicon valley in Israel. Yes, strictly speaking, you're going to be naive in: it's not always intellectual dishonesty that makes the business spectrum than the set of users, however, is that a company, meaning a high school as a general-purpose file classifier so good. And journalists as part of their pitch.

The idea is bad.

Thanks to John Collison, Rich Draves, Jessica Livingston, Trevor Blackwell, and Hugues Steinier for putting up with me.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #Ray #things #point #effects #language #company #Jessica #sup #kind #experiences #University #employee #people #search #ideas #thing #population #distribution #fiction #problem #something #someone

[suzanneshannon]

How to Get a Dysfunctional Team Back on Track

Maybe you’ve been part of a team that you’ve seen slowly slide into a rut. You didn’t notice it happen, but you’re now not shipping anything, no one’s talking to each other, and the management’s Eye of Sauron has cast its gaze upon you.

Maybe you’ve just joined a team that’s in the doldrums.

Maybe the people who used to oil the wheels that kept everyone together have moved on and you’re having to face facts—you all hate each other.

However you’ve ended up in this situation, the fact is that you’re now here and it’s up to someone to do something about it. And that person might be you.

You’re not alone

The first thing to understand is that you’re not the only person to ever encounter problems. Things like this happen all the time at work, but there are simple steps you can take and habits you can form to ease the situation and even dig yourself (and your team) out of the hole. I’ll share some techniques that have helped me, and maybe they can work for you, too.

So let me tell you a story about a hot mess I found myself in and how we turned it around. Names and details have been changed to protect the innocent.

It always starts out great

An engineer called Jen was working with me on a new feature on our product that lets people create new meal recipes themselves. I was the Project Manager. We were working in six-week cycles.

She had to rely on an API that was managed by Tom (who was in another team) to allow her to get and set the new recipe information on a central database. Before we kicked off, everyone knew the overall objective and everyone was all smiles and ready to go.

The system architecture was a legacy mishmash of different parts of local databases and API endpoints. And, no prizes for guessing what’s coming next, the API documentation was like Swiss cheese.

Two weeks into a six-week cycle, Jen hit Tom up with a list of her dream API calls that she wanted to use to build her feature. She asked him to confirm or deny they would work—or even if they existed at all—because once she started digging into the docs, it wasn’t clear to her if the API could support her plans.

However, Tom had form for sticking his head in the sand and not responding to requests he didn’t like. Tom went to ground and didn’t respond. Tom’s manager, Frankie, was stretched too thin, and hence wasn’t paying attention to this until I was persistently asking about it, in increasingly fraught tones.

In the meantime, Jen tried to do as much as she could. Every day she built a bit more based on her as-yet unapproved design, hoping it would all work out.

With two weeks left to go, Tom eventually responded with a short answer—which boiled down to “The API doesn’t support these calls and I don’t see why I should build something that does. Why don’t you get the data from the other part of the system? And by the way, if I’m forced to do this, it will take at least six weeks.”

And as we know, six weeks into two weeks doesn’t go. Problem.

How did we sort it?

Step 1 — Accept

When things go south, what do you do?

Accept it.

Acknowledge whatever has happened to get you into this predicament. Take some notes about it to use in team appraisals and retrospectives. Take a long hard look at yourself, too.

Write a concise, impersonal summary of where you are. Try not to write it from your point of view. Imagine that you’re in your boss’ seat and just give them the facts as they are. Don’t dress things up to make them sound better. Don’t over-exaggerate the bad. Leave the emotions to the side.

When you can see your situation clearly, you’ll make better decisions.

Now, pointing out the importance of taking some time to cool down and gather your thoughts seems obvious, but it’s based on the study of some of the most basic circuitry in our brains. Daniel Goleman’s 1995 book, Emotional Intelligence: Why It Can Matter More Than IQ, introduces the concept of emotional hijacking; the idea that the part of our brain that deals with emotion—the limbic system—can biologically interrupt rational thinking when it is overstimulated. For instance, experiments show that the angrier men get, the poorer are the decisions they make at the casino. And another study found that people in a negative emotional state are more likely to deviate from logical norms. To put it another way, if you’re pissed off, you can’t think straight.

So when you are facing up to the facts, avoid the temptation to keep it off-the-record and only discuss it on the telephone or in person with your colleagues. There’s nothing to be scared of by writing it down. If it turns out that you’re wrong about something, you can always admit it and update your notes. If you don’t write it down, then there’s always scope for misunderstanding or misremembering in future.

In our case, we summarized how we’d ended up at that juncture; the salient points were:

I hadn’t checked to ensure we had scoped it properly before committing to the work. It wasn’t a surprise that the API coverage was patchy, but I turned a blind eye because we were excited about the new feature.

Jen should have looked for the hard problem first rather than do a couple of weeks’ worth of nice, easy work around the edges. That’s why we lost two weeks off the top.

Tom and Frankie’s communication was poor. The reasons for that don’t form part of this discussion, but something wasn’t right in that team.

And that’s step one.

Step 2 — Rejoice

Few people like to make mistakes, but everyone will make one at some point in their life. Big ones, small ones, important ones, silly ones—we all do it. Don’t beat yourself up.

At the start of my career, I worked on a team whose manager had a very high opinion of himself. He was good, but what I learned from him was that he spread that confidence around the team. If something was looking shaky, he insisted that if we could “smell smoke,” that he had to be the first to know so he could do something about it. If we made a mistake, there was no hiding from it. We learned how to face up to it and accept responsibility, but what was more important was learning from him the feeling we were the best people to fix it.

There was no holding of grudges. What was done, was done. It was all about putting it behind us.

He would tell us that we were only in this team because he had handpicked us because we were the best and he only wanted the best around him. Now, that might all have been manipulative nonsense, but it worked.

The only thing you can control is what you do now, so try not to fret about what happened in the past or get anxious about what might happen in the future.

With that in mind, once you’ve written the summary of your sticky situation, set it aside!

I’ll let you in on a secret. No one else is interested in how you got here. They might be asking you about it (probably because they are scared that someone will ask them), but they’re always going to be more interested in how you’re going to sort the problem out.

So don’t waste time pointing fingers. Don’t prepare slide decks to throw someone under the bus. Tag that advice with a more general “don’t be an asshole” rule.

If you’re getting consistent heat about the past, it’s because you’re not doing a good enough job filling the bandwidth with a solid, robust, and realistic plan for getting out of the mess.

So focus on the future.

Sometimes it’s not easy to do that, but remember that none of this is permanent. Trust in the fact that if you pull it together, you’ll be in a much more powerful position to decide what to do next.

Maybe the team will hold together with a new culture or, if it is irretrievably broken, once you’re out of the hole then you can do something about it and switch teams or even switch jobs. But be the person who sorted it out, or at the very least, be part of the gang who sorted it out. That will be obvious to outsiders and makes for a much better interview question response.

In our story with Jen, we had a short ten-minute call with everyone involved on the line. We read out the summary and asked if anyone had anything to add.

Tom spoke up and said that he never gets time to update the API documentation because he always has to work on emergencies. We added that to our summary:

Tom has an ongoing time management problem. He doesn’t have enough time allocated to maintain and improve the API documentation.

After that was added, everyone agreed that the summary was accurate.

I explained that the worst thing that could now happen was that we had to report back to the wider business that we’d messed up and couldn’t hit our deadline.

If we did that, we’d lose face. There would be real financial consequences. It would show up on our appraisals. It wouldn’t be good. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it wasn’t something that we wanted. Everyone probably knew all that already, but there’s a power in saying it out loud. Suddenly, it doesn’t seem so scary.

Jen spoke up to say that she was new here and really didn’t want to start out like this. There was some murmuring in general support. I wrapped up that part of the discussion.

I purposefully didn’t enter into a discussion about the solution yet. We had all come together to admit the circumstances we were in. We’d done that. It was enough for now.

Step 3 — Move on

Stepping back for a second, as the person who is going to lead the team out of the wilderness, you may want to start getting in everyone’s face. You’ll be tempted to rely on your unlimited reserves of personal charm or enthusiasm to vibe everyone up. Resist the urge! Don’t do it!

Your job is to give people the space to let them do their best work.

I learned this the hard way. I’m lucky enough that I can bounce back quickly, but when someone is under pressure, funnily enough, a super-positive person who wants to throw the curtains open and talk about what a wonderful day it is might not be the most motivational person to be around. I’ve unwittingly walked into some short-tempered conversations that way.

Don’t micromanage. In fact, scrap all of your management tricks. Your job is to listen to what people are telling you—even if they’re telling you things by not talking.

Reframe the current problem. Break it up into manageable chunks.

The first task to add to your list of things to do is simply to “Decide what we’re going to do about [the thing].”

It’s likely that there’s a nasty old JIRA ticket that everyone has been avoiding or has been bounced back and forth between different team members. Set that aside. There’s too much emotional content invested in that ticket now.

Create a new task that’s entirely centered on making a decision. Now, break it down into subtasks for each member of the team, like “Submit a proposal for what to do next.” Put your own suggestions in the mix but do your best to dissociate yourself from them.

Once you start getting some suggestions back and can tick those tasks off the list, you start to generate positive momentum. Nurture that.

If a plan emerges, champion it. Be wary of naysayers. Challenge them respectfully with “How do you think we should…?” questions. If they have a better idea, champion that instead; if they don’t respond at all, then gently suggest “Maybe we should go with this if no one else has a better idea.”

Avoid words like “need,” “just,” “one,” or “small.” Basically, anything that imposes a view of other people’s work. It seems trivial, but try to see it from the other side.

Saying, “I just need you to change that one small thing” hits the morale-killing jackpot. It unthinkingly diminishes someone else’s efforts. An engineer or a designer could reasonably react by thinking “What do you know about how to do this?!” Your job is to help everyone drop their guard and feel safe enough to contribute.

Instead, try “We’re all looking at you here because you’re good at this and this is a nasty problem. Maybe you know a way to make this part work?”

More often than not, people want to help.

So I asked Jen, Tom, and Frankie to submit their proposals for a way through the mess.

It wasn’t straightforward. Just because we’d all agreed how we got here didn’t just magically make all the problems disappear. Tom was still digging his heels in about not wanting to write more code, and kept pushing back on Jen.

There was a certain amount of back and forth. Although, with some constant reminders that we should maybe focus on what will move us forward, we eventually settled on a plan.

Like most compromises, it wasn’t pretty or simple. Jen was going to have to rely on using the local database for a certain amount of the lower-priority features. Tom was going to have to create some additional API functions and would end up with some unnecessary traffic that might create too much load on the API.

And even with the compromise, Tom wouldn’t be finished in time. He’d need another couple of weeks.

But it was a plan!

N.B. Estimating is a whole other subject that I won’t cover here. Check out the Shape Up process for some great advice on that.

Step 4 — Spread the word

Once you’ve got a plan, commit to it and tell everyone affected what’s going on.

When communicating with people who are depending on you, take the last line of your email, which usually contains the summary or the “ask,” and put it at the top. When your recipient reads the message, the opener is the meat. Good news or bad news, that’s what they’re interested in. They’ll read on if they want more.

If it’s bad news, set someone up for it with a simple “I’m sorry to say I’ve got bad news” before you break it to them. No matter who they are, kindly framing the conversation will help them digest it.

When discussing it with the team, put the plan somewhere everyone can see it. Transparency is key.

Don’t pull any moves—like publishing deadline dates to the team that are two weeks earlier than the date you’ve told the business. Teams aren’t stupid. They’ll know that’s what you do.

Publish the new deadlines in a place where everyone on the team can see them, and say we’re aiming for this date but we’re telling the business that we’ll definitely be done by that date.

In our case, I posted an update to the rest of the business as part of our normal weekly reporting cycle to announce we’d hit a bump that was going to affect our end date.

Here’s an extract:

Hi everyone,

Here’s the update for the week. I’m afraid there’s a bit of bad news to start but there is some good news too.

First:

We uncovered a misunderstanding between Jen and Tom this week. The outcome is that Tom has more API work to do than he anticipated. This affects the delivery date and means we’re now planning to finish 10 working days later on November 22. **Expected completion date ** CHANGED **** Original estimate: November 8 Current estimate: November 22

Second: 

We successfully released version 1.3 of the app into the App Store 🎉.

And so on...

That post was available for everyone within the team to see. Everyone knew what was to be done and what the target was.

I had to field some questions from above, but I was ready with my summary of what went wrong and what we’d all agreed to do as a course of action. All I had to do was refer to it. Then I could focus on sharing the plan.

And all manner of things shall be well

Now, I’d like to say that we then had tea and scones every day for the next month and it was all rather spiffing. But that would be a lie.

There was some more wailing and gnashing of teeth, but we all got through it and—even though we tried to finish early but failed—we did manage to finish by the November 22 date.

And then, after a bit of a tidy up, we all moved on to the next project, a bit older and a bit wiser. I hope that helps you if you’re in a similar scenario. Send me a tweet or email me at [email protected] with any questions or comments. I’d love to hear about your techniques and advice.

How to Get a Dysfunctional Team Back on Track published first on https://deskbysnafu.tumblr.com/

[shsummertimefest-blog]

Best Laid Plans

Enjoy, @shirmir!

“Seriously Izzy, there is nothing going on out here…” Alec grumbled as he trudged down the road, hands firmly in his pockets.

“Magnus is good for you, big brother. I mean who'd have thought Alexander Lightwood would be trying to get out of patrolling early to go see his boyfriend….” She laughed as she nudged him in the side.

“I'm not...that's not..” strictly speaking Izzy was absolutely spot on. Six months ago Alec had moved into the loft with Magnus, and for possibly the first time in his life, he actually looked forward to going home.

The image of his boyfriend curled up on the sofa, glass of wine in hand, lips curving slightly in amusement as he read flashed in front of his eyes and the thought of joining him pulled at him like a magnet.

“Don't worry, your secret’s safe with me.” Izzy winked.

It was ridiculous really, it was still early in the evening and the streets were full of late night shoppers, so realistically the chances of any demons showing up were slim at best. Alec had made sure that he was on the early patrol for once. Although he was Head of the Institute he studiously avoided taking advantage of his position, but even he had got fed up with getting home just before dawn. Worse still, for the last few weeks Magnus had been so busy that they'd barely had any real time together, in fact, if they didn't live together Alec seriously doubted they'd have seen each other at all.

Despite it all, Alec had never been happier in his life. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that Magnus was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he was determined to show him exactly what he meant to him. All he had to do was work out how.

“That wasn't what I meant and you know it. I meant why are we patrolling the shopping district and not, oh I don't know, somewhere we might actually find demon activity..?” Alec asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as Izzy’s eyes flitted to yet another brightly lit shop window.

“I told you, I had a tip..” Izzy muttered, distracted by the large window display in front of her.

“Really?” there was no mistaking the frustration in Alecs voice now.

“Fine, ok no I didn't. Happy now?” Ignoring Alec rolling his eyes, she continued. “Look we both know things are quiet at the moment so I just figured it was a good excuse for a shopping trip. C’mon Alec, you could do with some new clothes, I mean imagine the look on Magnus’ face if he saw you in something other than, well, that.”

Izzy looked him up and down, shaking her head fondly.

“Yeah well, forgive me for wearing work gear when I thought we were actually going to patrol.” Alec muttered.

“Ooh look at that..” Izzy darted ahead, stopping outside a jeweller’s window with big sale banners all over it.

“Yeah, like you need more jewellery.”

“I don't need, big brother, I just want…” Izzy winked and grinned before darting inside, giving Alec little choice but to follow her.

“Good evening, how can I help you? Perhaps a gift for your lovely girlfriend..” The man behind the counter was sharply dressed in a navy suit and smiled warmly.

“Ugh no ...that's my brother..” Both Izzy and Alec wrinkled their noses in disgust. Alec seriously regretted not activating his glamour rune.

“Oh I'm sorry, my mistake. Now you mention it, the resemblance is uncanny.” The salesman kept his smile fixed on his face, which Alec found intensely annoying, and

he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

Seeing his sister's eyes dancing with excitement, he waved her on with a sigh of frustration.

Within what felt like seconds, Izzy, unsurprisingly, had the salesman wrapped around her little finger and multiple trays of bracelets and rings were being placed on the counter for her to look at.

Sensing that he was in for a long wait his attention began to wander and he let his eyes scan across the contents of the shop. When he looked back on that moment later, he couldn't really say what it was, but something seemed to draw him towards a cabinet on the other side of the room.

Once he saw it, he couldn't drag his eyes away. The stone in the centre of the ring was mesmerising, glittering in shades of green and gold that were the exact colour of Magnus’ cat eyes. Shimmering diamonds surrounded the stone and caught the light beautifully, giving off thousands of rainbow reflections, and the heavy gold band was decorated with swirls.

“Oh Alec.” He'd been so absorbed that he hadn't noticed his sister approach and he glanced down to see her smiling happily at him.

“Ah, an excellent choice, it's quite the beauty.” The mundane salesman, clearly sensing the potential for an impulse purchase, had come over as well. “Such an exquisite stone and very rare.”

“I've never seen anything like it.” Alec narrowed his left eye, looking at the man.

His comment was in all likelihood a mistake he thought as the man took the opportunity to explain in great detail about how the stone, sphene or titanite as it was sometimes called, was very rare and where exactly it was found.

“Are you thinking….?” Izzy whispered as Alec turned his attention back to the ring.

If he was honest, he wanted nothing more than to marry Magnus, he'd often thought of it but the only thing that stopped him from asking was the concern that maybe it wasn't what Magnus wanted. His boyfriend had been alive for centuries and had never married anyone, maybe that meant it wasn't something he had any interest in doing, and the last thing Alec wanted was to ruin what they had.

Turning back to the cabinet, he looked at the ring again. It was perfect, so perfect it felt like a sign.

“Would you like to look at it?” The man asked, retrieving a large group of keys and unlocking the sliding glass doors.

Alec just nodded, trying his best to ignore Izzy squeaking excitedly beside him.

“Did you want to try it on?” The salesman asked.

“Um no, it's not for me..” Alec dipped his head slightly, watching with fascination how the ring caught the light.

“He's gonna propose to his boyfriend.” Izzy stated proudly.

“In that case, sir, this ring is perfect. No man could possibly say no to this.” The mundane took the ring out of the cabinet and placed it temptingly on Alec's palm.

“Stop overthinking Alec..” Izzy chided gently.

“I'm not..” Except of course, he was. He chewed gently on his lip as he thought things through. Did he want to marry Magnus? Of course. When he'd asked Magnus to host Max’s rune party he'd told him it was to show Maryse that what they had wasn't going away and what better way to prove that point than to stand up in front of everyone and promise to love Magnus forever? Yes that was what he wanted, possibly more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life before.

Staring down at the ring, the ever present chatter in his brain was replaced by a quiet certainty. For once, Alec Lightwood was going to be impulsive.

Alec’s newfound certainty lasted for about half an hour, enough time to buy the ring, no easy task with Izzy hugging him happily throughout, and accept her offer of filling in the patrol reports for him so he could get back to Magnus.

It was only as he got closer to the loft that the doubts started to resurface. Putting his hand in his pocket he stroked the velvet ring box, hoping to regain the feeling he'd had before, when it dawned on him that he’d have to actually hide it. There was no doubt that where it was Magnus would find it and one thing he was sure of was that if he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

Pausing for a second, he swung his quiver off his shoulder and hastily shoved the box inside.

When he arrived home Magnus was still lounging on the sofa and, as ever, the sight of him took his breath away. Seeing the all powerful High Warlock of Brooklyn relaxed and happy was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing in the whole world, and the thought that maybe one day he could call this amazing man his husband made his heart flutter.

“Alexander, you're home early.” Magnus looked up and smiled.

“Early patrol. I thought we could have an evening together…” Alec tried to sound casual as he placed his bow and quiver by the door but Magnus obviously noticed something was amiss.

“You Ok, darling?” He asked, brows slightly furrowed.

“Umm yeah, Izzy’s doing the reports and..” Alec sat down on the sofa next to Magnus.

“Ah, and you're worried that your darling sister may not be as thorough..” Magnus sat up and grinned wickedly.

“No..” Alec pouted, glad to have changed the topic. Toeing off his boots, he relaxed back.

“Honestly darling, where's the fun in being Head of the Institute if you can't delegate..?” Magnus rose up onto his knees, holding Alec's gaze as he slowly straddled his lap. “Now, however can we get that 'all-work-and-no-play' mind of yours to relax…”

Alec smiled lopsidedly as his hand reached forward instinctively to hold his boyfriend's hips.

“Actually, I might have a few ideas..” He murmured.

“Do you now?” Magnus chuckled, eyebrow raised.

“Uh-huh..” Alec leant forward to catch his lips but Magnus leaned back slightly, making him growl in frustration.

“So I have you to myself tonight then.” He smiled.

“Yes..”

“Well in that case..” Magnus threw himself forward, smashing their lips together and all of Alec’s doubts disappeared, replaced with the all embracing feeling of Magnus in his arms.

It'd been a struggle to leave the loft this morning and had it not been for Magnus having an early appointment with an important client, Alec genuinely wasn't sure that he’d have made it in at all, responsibilities or not.

They’d both taken full advantage of finally having time alone and spent the evening wrapped up in each other's arms. For once, Alec hadn't complained about Magnus summoning dinner because the thought of leaving the cocoon of happiness they'd created in just a few short hours was beyond contemplation.

Sadly, the real world had come back this morning, and despite Alec’s best efforts to tempt his boyfriend to cancel everything and simply stay as they were, Magnus had managed to just about resist.

Alec sat at his desk in front of a mound of paperwork but, despite the overwhelming workload, he couldn't get the smile off his face. Opening the desk drawer he took out the little velvet box and opened it, gazing at the ring again, something he’d done more than a few times since he’d retrieved it from his quiver that morning. There was something entrancing about watching the light catch the facets on the ring and each colour that showed up brought with it an image of Magnus, smiling, laughing, filled with passion or just gazing contentedly as they cuddled, limbs entangled.

“So let's see it then..” Alec’s head snapped up to see Jace standing in front of the desk, grinning at him. He’d been so caught up in his daydream he hadn't even noticed his parabatai enter the room.

Jace threw himself into the chair in front of the desk and grabbed the ring box, examining its contents closely as he stretched his legs and put his feet up on the desk.

With a huff of irritation, Alec stood up and walked round to knock Jace's feet on to the floor.

“He’s gonna love it, buddy.” Jace smiled back, completely nonplussed as usual.

“Yeah, thanks..” Alec reached a palm out, beckoning Jace to give the ring back.

“Seriously, how can you be in a bad mood when you’re getting engaged?” Jace shrugged as he handed the box back.

“I'm not, and this may have escaped your notice, but this is still my office you know..” Having the ring back in his hand made Alec feel a little more settled.

“So..how're you gonna do it then, ‘cos if you need a hand Iz and I have got some great ideas…” As usual, his brother largely ignored Alec’s words and continued with what he wanted to talk about.

“I hadn't thought..” Leaning back against the desk, Alec ran his hand through his hair.

“Seriously?” Jace eyed him carefully. “Oh I get it..”

“What?”

“You're overthinking, knew it..” Jace folded his arms, a smug look on his face.

“No I'm not.” Jace raised an eyebrow and Alec just shook his head exasperated. “Ok maybe a little. I just...I'm doing the right thing, aren't I?”

“Are you kidding me? Seriously buddy, you two are so sickening together. I mean I'm your parabatai and trust me, sometimes what I get through this bad boy..” Jace tapped the rune on his hip and Alec winced at the thought. “Nah, not like that. By the angel, why does everyone think that? I mean sickeningly happy, is all. Magnus adores you and he’s totally gonna say yes..”

“You think..?” Alec chewed his lip nervously.

“I know it. Trust me.” Jace stood up. “Oh and just so you know, I'm going to be your best man, so your bachelor party is gonna be epic..”

“Thanks...I think..” Alec rolled his eyes as Jace came to stand by him.

“No problem. You deserve this, buddy.” Jace grinned as he shoulder bumped Alec. “And don't forget, Iz and I are happy to help…”

“Thanks, I'm good..” Alec cut Jace off, dreading what ridiculous plan his siblings would come up with.

“Well the offer’s there. Anyway, here’s some reports for you…” Jace nodded to the files he’d added to Alec’s ever growing pile. “Should keep you busy for a while..”

“Gee thanks..” Alec groaned as Jace winked and left him to it.

Reluctantly Alec resumed his position behind his desk and tried to focus back on his work. After a few minutes he gave up and reached for his phone and fired off a quick text.

I know you're really busy but I don't suppose you’ve got a second? I could do with your help.

Alec put the phone back on the desk, not expecting a reply for some time and was somewhat surprised when he received one pretty much straight away.

Ok, sounds interesting, if you can meet me at work we could catch up over lunch.

That would be great, if you're sure that’s ok.

Alec it’s fine, my lunch break is 1. See you then.

See you then!

Alec smiled as he put his phone back down.

Alec sat down in the corner of the cafeteria, nursing a cup of coffee as he watched the entrance. He’d managed to duck out of the Institute with relative ease and had arrived really early. All around him people bustled by as he tried to look as unobtrusive as possible.

The cafeteria was full of the lunchtime crowd and pretty much all of it’s sterile plastic tables were occupied with groups of people chatting animatedly. The room was impeccably tidy, all clean lines decorated in a brilliant white which someone had tried to cheer up with a brightly coloured mural on one wall.

Reaching into his pocket, Alec pulled out the ring box again. On impulse he'd brought it with him, finding it strangely difficult to leave it behind.

“I wouldn't drink that if I were you..” Alec looked up to see Cat smiling down at him, indicating the coffee, and hastily he grabbed the box to shove it back in his pocket.

Cat looked every inch the professional nurse, her hair scraped back neatly, wearing bright blue scrubs with her name badge pinned to her chest and a stethoscope around her neck.

“Yeah already made that mistake.” Alec smiled nervously, apparently it wasn't just his nerves that made the coffee taste largely of burnt water.

“Ah hospital food. If you aren't sick before, you surely will be after.” Cat smiled kindly as she sat down at the table and Alec instantly felt himself relax.

“So I'm taking it that you wanted to see me because of what you just tried to hide in your pocket..” Catarina teased lightly as she rested her elbows on the table.

“You saw that.” Alec blushed despite himself. He really should've known better than to try and hide anything from Cat. Over the years Magnus and he had been together he'd got to know the warlock really well, and one thing he knew for sure was Catarina Loss was sharp as a tack.

“It's ok, we can just talk first, if you like. Madzie says hi by the way, she can't wait to see Uncle Alec and Uncle Magnus again, something about a new spell she's learnt..” Catarina easily steered the conversation into familiar territory, giving Alec the perfect excuse to avoid things until he was ready.

Often times when he was hanging out with Cat and her adopted daughter Madzie, Alec wondered how he'd ever been foolish enough to believe the lies the Clave drummed into them about downworlders. Cat was genuinely one of the kindest people he'd ever met, and quite frankly, a better person than almost all the nephilim he knew. It was entirely typical for her to go out of her way to make him feel relaxed enough to talk about what he really wanted.

“She's a great kid, make sure you give her a hug from me. Look, I know you never have much time and…” Alec took a deep breath.

“Alec, it's fine…”

“Ok, so here's the thing. I think I might of done something stupid, or maybe not. I don't know..” Looking up, Alec saw Cat nod in encouragement.

“Ok, so you know me, I plan everything, and then last night I was on patrol and I don't know why but, well I did something on impulse and now I'm thinking....” Alec tapped his fingers on the table nervously. Why was this so hard? Either way he knew Cat would be honest with him, after all she knew Magnus better than anyone so she was the perfect person to tell him if he was about to make a mistake.

“Alec, it's ok.” Catarina reached across the table, hesitating for a second to check it was ok, before placing her hand over his. “Anyway, Magnus is more than impulsive enough for both of us. I'm sure you haven't done anything as out there as he has, so it's fine.”

Alec smiled lopsidedly and nodded his head before reaching, somewhat reluctantly into his pocket and pulling out the box, placing it almost reverentially on the table. Catarina let go of his hand and sat back a little, eyebrows raised as she looked at the box intently.

“So…” Alec muttered as he toyed with the box nervously.

“May I see?” Cat asked, glancing up at Alec who nodded and carefully opened the box, turning it round so she could see the contents. “Oh Alec…”

“It's too much, isn't it….?” Alec’s shoulders slumped, dreading the answer.

“It’s perfect honey, absolutely perfect.” Cat’s expression morphed into a broad grin as she examined the ring. “So…?”

“Well, it’s just, well we’ve never talked about marriage you know, and Magnus, he’s been alive for centuries and he’s never...I mean, that must mean something right…” Alec stopped short as Catarina began to laugh.

“I'm sorry, that was wrong of me. You really have no clue do you?” Alec looked warily back at her, one eye slightly closed. “I've known Magnus Bane for longer than I care to mention and one thing I can tell you is I’ve never known him love someone the way he loves you.”

“Honestly.” Alec smiled tentatively back.

“Honestly. It’s not that he never got married because he didn't want to, it's more he never met anyone who was in any way worthy of him, until you. Seriously he had the worst taste, just appalling.” Cat shook her head affectionately as she reminisced. “He’d either hold himself back or choose people who’d just move on. I think that was the appeal with Camille, that she was immortal, but look how well that turned out.”

Cat looked up, as if checking Alec was still ok.

“Then you came along. I'm not going to lie, when he first told me I thought he was mad, I mean a shadowhunter of all things, and a Lightwood at that. No offence.” Cat shrugged apologetically.

“None taken.” Alec reassured her.

“Seriously Alec, don't doubt that Magnus would want nothing more than to marry you. Knowing him, he’s just afraid to ask himself. That man still doesn't believe he’s worth staying with. So the only question is, do you want to marry him? Really and truly?” Cat fixed him with a probing look and Alec didn't hesitate, even for a millisecond.

“More than anything.”

“That’s great. Ok, so then the only thing we need to talk about is how you’re going to do this. I think we both agree our boy deserves the best proposal ever. So time to get planning.” Catarina beamed at him.

“Yeah, let’s do that..” Alec agreed, with a smile that lit up his face.

Alec had had a plan. A really, really good plan, but somehow he’d ended up here.

Glancing up he saw his sister's whip cut through a swathe of demons on the other side of the warehouse, before firing arrows into the melee to take down another lot that were trying to creep up behind her.

“Nicely done, darling.” Magnus grinned as he fired bright orbs of red magic into the swarm across the room.

Alec barely had time to respond, only smiling lopsidedly as the onslaught continued.

Only this morning he’d thought he had everything covered, what with Magnus’ favourite restaurant in Paris booked, and Cat on standby to create a portal. Even Jace and Izzy knew he was taking the evening off and not to contact him unless the world was ending. As it turned out, it pretty much was. Again.

“Alec..” Jace shouted from the far side of the room as a pair of winged demons started circling, talons out ready to attack.

With a sigh of exasperation, Alec dispatched them rapidly with Jace giving him a wink and a smile in approval. Typically, his parabatai seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, slashing his way through the hoards with his seraph blade flashing, Clary following closely behind.

Before turning his attention back to the room, Alec couldn't resist surreptitiously running his hand over his pocket, relaxing a little as he felt the small box was still there.

As he felt Magnus move behind him, the distinctive smell of burnt sugar that came from his magic filling his nostrils, Alec shook off his thoughts and concentrated on the battle.

“Did I mention how attractive you are in action sweetheart?” Magnus murmured.

“I could say exactly the same.” Alec chuckled as he turned his head to watch the way his boyfriend's body flowed as he took down a group of Eidolons.

“Why thank you, Alexander.” Magnus winked before turning his full attention back to the fight.

There were still a large amount of demons left but their numbers did seem to be dwindling, giving Alec a small amount of hope that his plans weren't entirely ruined just yet.

Swiftly, Alec took down a group of shax demons that were approaching Clary and Jace, their bodies disintegrating into orange dust instantly. Gritting his teeth in determination he reached for another arrow, his movements automatic after all these years.

He’d actually got as far as picking up Magnus and walking towards Prospect Park where he’d arranged to meet Cat, when the call had come in. For a split second he’d considered ignoring it, but having stressed to Jace how important the evening was, he knew a phone call could only be bad news.

With the sounds of screaming in the background, Jace had hurriedly informed him about how a group of teenage mundanes had somehow managed to accidentally open a portal to a demon dimension. By the time he and Magnus had arrived all hell had broken out, almost literally, and despite Magnus rapidly closing down the portal, a significant number of the dimension’s residents had already escaped through.

“I have to say darling, when you said you had a special evening planned, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind..” Magnus laughed over his shoulder.

“Typical mundanes, messing with things they don't understand.” Alec grumbled, his eyes flitting over to a group of four teenagers cowering behind Jace and Clary.

“Oh they're just children..” Magnus was obviously more forgiving than him.

“There’s some truth to the idea..” Swerving, Alec took down a small group of ravener demons. “That human beings should have a modicum of common sense.”

Alec tried hard to not be distracted by Magnus’ laugh. Squinting slightly, he took aim again, the tide now well and truly turning in their direction. All they needed to do was finish off the stragglers and then, maybe, the evening wouldn't be a complete washout.

Several minutes of concerted effort from all of them and the numbers were down to single figures and Alec had started to relax, which naturally turned out to be an error in judgment.

As he turned to smile at Magnus with relief at a job well done, a shax demon broke out from behind the crates next to him and lunged. With lightening reflexes Alec grabbed an arrow and plunged it into the creature's body, watching it explode in front of him but not before the demon lashed out at him with it’s claws. Alec ducked out of reach in the nick of time but the demon managed to catch his pocket, tearing it apart.

It was almost in slow motion that Alec saw the velvet box fly out and skid across the floor, landing by a pile of wooden pallets lying haphazardly beside him.

“Dammit..” Alec dived after the ring, desperately scrambling to retrieve it before anyone, or more specifically Magnus, noticed.

“Alexander.” Magnus called after him just as Alec’s fingers touched the box. “Are you hurt? Let me help you.”

Grabbing the box, he tried to hide it behind himself before turning to see his boyfriend gazing down at him, eyes full of concern.

“I'm fine..” Alec felt himself flush as he desperately tried to hide the ring. He wasn't a romantic by nature but even he knew that proposing to Magnus in a disused warehouse while covered in ichor was most definitely not the done thing.

“Darling, let me see..” Magnus went to move towards him and instinctively Alec flinched away. Seeing the look of hurt in the warlock's eyes, he instantly sat up on his knees and reached to reassure him.

“Magnus, no...I didn't mean…” Alec pleaded, completely oblivious to the sound of the last few demons meeting their ends.

“Alec...what’s that in your hand?” Magnus was staring intently at the little box which Alec had completely forgotten about in his haste to comfort his boyfriend.

“Nothing...it's nothing…” Jerking his hand back, he tried to shove the box back in his pocket only to remember it was torn to shreds.

“Alexander….” Magnus looked at him, eyes narrowed.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Izzy bouncing towards them, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, and Alec knew there was no way of keeping his secret. Sighing deeply, he reluctantly brought his hand forward, and uncurling his fingers, revealed the box.

“See the thing is, this wasn't how it was supposed to go tonight. I mean, I even arranged for Cat to portal us to Paris..” Alec began, as Magnus gasped, taking a small step back as the realisation dawned on him.

“And I booked your favourite restaurant, you know the one by the Seine..” Alec continued.

“You did that, for me…” Magnus held his hand to his mouth and gazed at him with amazement.

“Of course I did. I love you, Magnus..” Alec smiled up lopsidedly and slowly raised himself onto one knee, “but I guess the surprise has been ruined so…”

Alec shrugged apologetically, and for once, Magnus seemed lost for words.

“So I guess, here goes.” He opened the box and revealed the ring. “I know it's not romantic, and I didn't really imagine proposing like this, but maybe after all, this is more our style. So, Magnus Bane, would you do me the honour of marrying me, Alec Lightwood?”

Before Magnus had a chance to answer, there was a flurry of movement behind him and the last of the shax demons emerged. Reaching for his blade, Alec was about to spring forward, but without even turning Magnus flicked his wrist, dispatching the demon with a burst of magic.

“Rude! Seriously, I've just got engaged…” Magnus turned his head and frowned at the pile of dust that was all that was left of the creature.

“Hey Magnus, you kind of have to say yes yet..” Izzy catcalled.

“Oh my mistake, sorry darling, got distracted there.” Magnus dropped to his knees facing Alec. “Yes, of course yes. Alexander Lightwood, I, Magnus Bane would love nothing more than to marry you..”

“You will?” Alec looked at him, almost in disbelief, as Magnus extended his left hand.

With shaking fingers, Alec took the ring and slid it onto Magnus’ ring finger, somehow unsurprised that it fit perfectly.

“Alec, I love you so very much. Marrying you would make me happier than I ever thought possible.” Magnus seemed to glow with joy as he stared back at him and everything else just faded away. There was no warehouse, no ichor, no sulphur-like demon smell. The only thing that mattered was right in front of him.

Instinctively, Alec reached a hand up to caress Magnus’ jaw and pulled him close, breathing in the scent of him, of sandalwood and burnt sugar and so much more. The scent of home, of being exactly where you belong.

When their lips finally met, it was as if the world was exactly as it should be, Magnus and Alexander bound together and he couldn't get enough.

When they finally parted, resting their foreheads together, Alec couldn't stop smiling. Even when Jace came up and patted his shoulder or when everyone crowded round to look at the ring and offer their congratulations, because Alec only had eyes for Magnus, the man he was going to marry.

“Well, lovely as this all is. I do believe it's high time I went and celebrated with my fiancé” Magnus waved everyone away and grabbed Alec’s hand, helping him to his feet.

“Yeah well, it's too late for the restaurant, we've kinda missed the reservation.” Alec replied sheepishly.

“Hmmm, if only I had, oh I don't know, a flat in Paris or something like that.” Magnus winked smiling broadly.

“Oh...oh….yeah ok, let's go…” Alec grinned back before grabbing Magnus’ hand and dragging him out of the warehouse, both of them giggling like teenagers despite the whoops and cheers behind them.

“I love you, Magnus..” Alec gasped happily as they ran off.

“I love you too, Alexander..” Magnus stopped and waved a hand to raise a portal, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

With a joyous laugh, Alec grabbed him by the waist and spun the pair of them off towards their own private celebration, and most importantly, to the start of their future together.

#shirmir #shgiftfest17 #fic #malec