#hundreds of generations from now ice WILL turn back into water

[cloudmancy]

sorry this is a bit of a weird ask, but i've always wondered - does your twitter bio (the brightmyth one) have any particular meaning? you don't have to answer if you don't want to, i'm genuinely just curious haha (i like its... vibe? even though i dont know what it's about) but it's totally fine if you don't want to share for any reason of course

oh of course :) it's from the chinese sci-fi movie The Wandering Earth (2019) loosely adapted from the liu cixin short story... the premise is the sun is half a century away from going supernova as it reaches the end of its life stage. humanity constructed giant engines all over the planet to push us of our orbit in hopes of finding eventually finding a habitable star system thousands of years in the future... hence "the wandering earth". everything on the planet has frozen over bc we're out in deep space away from the sun, and the world's oceans and lakes have all become solid blocks of ice.

the line in my bio "I believe you. there will be a day where ice turns into water" is from this scene where a russian cosmonaut gets impacted by debris and dies helping his coworker reach the command module onboard the mission satellite... the hope and wistful humanity of it all

#asks #anon #liu cixin is the goat and the movie is good too #the wandering earth #it's fucked up because neither them nor their children nor their children's children's children will ever #see the lakes they are talking about as they were but it's about the hope that one day #hundreds of generations from now ice WILL turn back into water

[backtothefanfiction]

One Last Date For Christmas | PART ONE: An Arrangement At The Christmas Party

Summary: Another year, The same Christmas party and holiday hook up... or is it?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Smut (oral M & F receiving, p in v, mild dirty talk with Christmas references), Mentions of Cancer/Death, Fake Dating, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, this is basically Hallmark/Netflix Christmas movie vibes

Word Count: 5.9K+

A/N: Okay, so I've been feeling crumby lately and really need a boost, so although we took a poll and it was decided this whole story would go up as one piece at the same time, I need the motivation and have had a crumby week mentally and need a boost. So here is part 1. If you do enjoy PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I am like Tinkerbell, if I don't get attention I will die haha. But seriously my mental health needs the kind words for energy so please take a moment to share some if you like this part and not just like it. Anyway... ENJOY!!!

Another year, another fancy corporate business party Peter was obliged to attend due to his job. It had become such a regular routine over these last 7 years J. Jonah Jameson didn’t even bother asking if he was available to come anymore, just automatically emailed over the details so he could attend. 

Peter couldn’t completely complain. He got free drinks and fancy food for the night. I mean in reality he got to act just like any other guest, despite the camera he had around his neck for the night. And instead of paying to be there, he was instead getting paid to be there. Sure it was only an extra couple hundred bucks, but at this time of year it really did make all the difference.

Being a freelance photographer only made him so much a year, especially when the rest of his time was spent moonlighting as the local superhero which didn’t pay a thing. Not that he couldn’t have made some money as a public figure. A couple grand here to endorse a few products. A donation of thanks or two from business owners or generous members of the community there. All of which had been options that he had turned down. That wasn’t who Spider-Man was and definitely not who he wanted Spider-Man to be. And so at almost 40 years old, this was Peter’s life.

No wife. No kids. Not even a pet, because he couldn’t commit to spending enough time at home in his tiny run down box of a studio apartment, to look after it. He sometimes brought girls home, he did have needs after all, but no matter how interested they had been in him, he’d never let himself get attached. After Gwen he would never get attached again.

The only one to ever even come close was you. He had met you 5 years ago now at this very event. Just like him, you always felt like a fish out of water at these parties, despite always being on the guest list. Your Father was one of the big business benefactors of the party and ever since the divorce you had become his regular plus one. 

Just like Peter you were a chronic singleton, always too busy traveling for work to be able to sustain an actual relationship, despite your Mother trying her best every time you were home to set you up with some poor soul. She just didn’t get it. You didn’t believe in marriage anymore as most of them ended in divorce, your parents marriage and even two of your Uncle’s marriages prime examples alone; and as for children? You had decided at the age of 13 you wouldn’t have kids and no matter how many times your Mother, Grandmother or Aunt Sarah told you, you would change your mind, you hadn’t. If anything the birth of your brother’s kids had only cemented things more. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your niece and nephew, you were just always glad you could pass them back off to your brother and his wife after a few hours of their shrieking play and demands for cookies and ice cream, while fighting over what to watch on the telly. No, you had never wanted kids and you never would. You had however always wanted to get a cat, but until you changed jobs or just simply didn’t have to travel for work anymore, that would just remain a lovely little dream for the future.

Peter always arrived to the party early. After all, he was getting paid by the hour, so the longer he was there taking photos, the more money he could claim from the Daily Bugle finance department on Monday. He aimlessly wandered around taking photos of the venue and the table settings and the odd entering guest as people arrived. He helped himself to horderves off of shiny platters and the odd glass of champagne as he worked, seamlessly floating through the crowd, formally stopping people every now and again for more posed group shots, other times just taking candid photos of people mingling. He took the occasional booming order from J. Jonah Jameson, “Hey Parker! Make sure you get a shot of me with the Mayor. Parker! Come here and take a photo of me and Mrs Perez! Parker! Take a picture of me and my wife!”

“Yes, sir.” Peter would respond with a smile. Usually you were here by now to laugh at the way he followed the head of the Daily Bugle around like his lap dog, but as of yet you still hadn’t arrived. Then a horrible thought crossed Peter’s mind, ‘what if you weren’t coming this year.’ He had seen your Father walking about, had even taken a couple of photos of him with various business partners and city officials, but as of yet there had been no sign of you.

Peter checked his watch again hoping you were just running late, but the closer it got to 8.30pm and the start of the meal portion of the night, he started to give up hope. He knew you were busy, always flying between Tokyo, Milan, London and Paris for work; but you were always usually back home for the holidays. He was just about to check his watch again when you came through the door like a whirlwind in red.

He watched you like a Spider sizing up his prey as you made a beeline for your Father. You gave him a rushed greeting and an apologetic kiss to the cheek, before you followed him and the rest of his group to their table, placed closer to the small makeshift stage that had been erected at one end of the long window lined room. He kept his focus on you as you took your seat, your father pushing your chair in for you as you turned to greet one of the other women at the table a couple seats away from you. That was, until J. Jonah Jameson’s booming voice called him away again.

“Parker! You’re over here with us!” He barked as he ushered Peter over to a table on the other side of the room. He was just able to lock eyes with you and give you a friendly smile before he took his seat. “I’ve sat you on this side so you can get the wife’s good side.” Jameson continued to say.

There was a couple of speeches and awards before the food was served. Peter was pleased to find that he was in fact in a good vantage point in which he could take pictures of the stage this year without having to move. He also had a clear sightline to you too, his lens unconsciously moving in your direction every few shots then back again.

Peter had chosen the steak and hasselback potatoes for his dinner with a rich chocolate pudding for dessert. When he finished his meal, he dismissed himself from the table, as he traditionally did, to go around the tables and take a few more candid shots of people before taking a break at the bar. 

“I’ll take an old fashioned, please.” Your familiar voice suddenly came from beside him. “I’m sorry I was late.” you said as you leaned into him as if conspiratorially. “My flight got delayed.”

“Where were you coming from this time?” Peter asked as he took a sip from his own drink.

“Boston.” You said with a sigh. It definitely hadn’t been the answer he was expecting and his quizzical look at you said as much. “I was visiting my Mother. Her and her new partner Brad moved there a few months back to be closer to his grandchildren.” You explained.

“I’m guessing that means you got away with not being set up on a blind date this visit.” Peter fished, knowing your Mother’s habits and routines well after these last 5 years of annual hookups.

“You’d think so.” You said as you took a sip of your stiff drink, just to emphasize the drama of it all. “Turns out Maggie’s teacher is single and available.” you say with mock enthusiasm.

“Maggie?” Peter questions.

“One of Brad’s grandchildren.” you fill in with another sigh and eyebrow raise. “I wish she’d just give it a rest, you know?” You pause as you take another sip of your drink before you tell him, “I’m thinking of coming up with a fake boyfriend just to get her off my back. But then I know she’ll be all like ‘when do I get to meet him?’” you say doing an exaggerated impersonation of your Mother’s voice.

“Yeah, I think about doing the same thing with Aunt May sometimes, but I’d hate lying to her.” Peter confided.

“How is your Aunt?” you ask. The one blessing of only seeing each other once a year meant there were always things for you both to talk about and catch up on.

You watch as his face falls, his eyes turning sad as he looks into his drink. “Umm, they’re not good actually. We found out this year she has stage 4 breast cancer. The doctor said this is probably gonna be her last Christmas.” He struggles to look at you.

“Peter, I’m so sorry.” you say, mustering up as much empathy as you can as your hand instinctively comes to rub at his back. “Is there nothing they can do?”

“They said they could try a few different treatments but it wasn’t guaranteed to work and May ultimately decided that… Well she said that she’s lived to a good age and if this is how she is meant to go, this is how she is meant to go.” He paused, blinking hard as he continued to stare at the liquid in his glass. “She said I was a grown man and didn’t need her anymore.” He let out a small unsatisfied chuckle that wreaked of denial, before he finally looked at you again. “I just… I just feel guilty, you know?”

“What for?” You asked him.

“It’s just. I know she was always holding onto this hope that I’d meet someone. That I’d end up finding someone and settling down. Live a life like her and Ben did.”

“But that’s not what you want from your life?” you question him now unsure, as you finally sit yourself on the bar stool next to him. “I mean, if you wanted that, isn’t that what you would have done? Gone out, met a girl. Settled down. You can’t be someone you’re not just to please others.”

“But it was what I wanted.” he suddenly confides. “And that’s why I feel guilty because she knows that. When I first introduced her to Gwen, I said, ‘that’s the girl I’m going to marry Aunt May.’” he says with gusto, like he’s saying it exactly how he had said it to her, before his body deflates again.

“But things change. People change. We’re allowed to change Peter.”

“I know, but… she just, I know she never gave up hope.”

“You know what they say about hope?” You say.

“It breeds eternal misery,” he bristles.

“No.” You chastise. “It’s like the sun, if you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.”

Peter’s brow furrows as his head turns back to you. “Did you just quote Star Wars to me?”

“Princess Leia.” you smile.

“God I love you.” he says casually with a smile.

“I know.” you continue to beam back before you raise your glass towards him. “For Aunt May?”

“For Aunt May.” he agrees before clinking your glass with his own.

You both creep away a little before midnight, catching a cab back to your apartment. You always went back to your apartment. Peter said it was because he wanted you to be comfortable and said it was more homelier than his place, but the truth was, Peter was ashamed to take you back to his own apartment. It looked like a dingy run down squat or some really dodgy student housing in comparison to your place. 

He didn’t want to kid himself, he knew he was definitely punching above his weight a little when it came to you, not because he necessarily thought he was ugly, but more simply because you had more money than him. You’d never made him feel inferior for it. In fact you’d always wanted to help him by offering to put him in contact with some galleries so he could get more of his work out there. Maybe make some extra cash by selling some of his photos as art for the rich and wealthy, not just to a local paper, but Peter had never had the guts to take you up on the offer. It would make him feel indebted to you and throw the balance of your relationship off even more than it somewhat already was.

“Did you choose red because it’s my favourite color or just for the festivities?” He nibbled on your ear as his fingers ran across the velvet skirt of the dress, dragging it up to your thigh as he pressed himself against your back.

You hadn’t bothered turning on any other lights than the Christmas tree, before you stopped to take a moment to look out your window at the city. Christmas in New York was your favorite time of year. Every year to mark the occasion, you would go down to Rockefeller Plaza, grab a hot chocolate and watch as they turned on the lights. As kids you would go ice skating there. Less so now you were adults, your brother and his own kids had their own tradition of skating in Central Park on Christmas Eve, but some years you would still partake.

“I chose it for the season.” You sighed, your body relaxing back into him, head resting on his shoulder as he kissed his way down your neck.

“My festive little elf.” He teased as his fingers continued to work up the hem of your dress until they could reach your panties, which you had in fact bought new and chosen with Peter in mind.

“I even brought presents.” You plaid along teasingly.

Your breathing hitched slightly as the pads of his fingers dragged over your lace covered clit.

“Really? For me?” You could feel him smiling into the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“Mhmm.” You hum. “Maybe, you should unwrap me.” You tease back.

“Mmm.” He hums back deeply in delight as he turns you around to face him. The hand that was just ghosting at your centre, now wraps firmly around the back of your neck, as he smashes your rouge stained lips into his. 

His other hand begins pawing at the velvety fabric of your dress again before he’s pulling his face away from you, his grin growing too big and you can’t help but give a satisfying smile back as you notice how your lipstick has transferred from your lips to his, marking him as yours for the evening. Your hand reaches for his and you begin taking steps backwards, pulling him in the direction of your bedroom and awaiting bed.

Your room is a slight mess from your hasty packing before you left for Boston and your equally hasty unpacking upon your return. You’d just had enough time to get home and get changed, rushing your make up and hair, before you left to go to the party. Your suitcase lay open on the floor, some of the contents lay spilling out from where you had hunted around for your makeup bag. The little pink bag from Victoria Secret sat upside down on the floor beside it. Peter spies it the moment he enters the room.

He feigns shock, “Did you buy this for me?” He teases as he picks up the bag.

“Don’t get too excited Parker, they were having a sale.”

“I don’t care.” He says with a boyish grin, despite his 39 years of age. “Come here and let me see.”

You smile at him as you begin to step closer to him before calling out into the room, “Alexa, turn on mood lighting.”

His eyebrows raise as a lamp in the corner of the room turns on, illuminating your bedroom in a magenta hue. “Mood lighting huh?”

“Do you wanna be able to see your Christmas gift or not?” You sass back with a hand on your hip.

“I mean, I’ve always thought of you as my Christmas present, regardless of what you wear.” He says as his fingers begin to grab for you again and pull you into him.

“Next year I won’t bother then.”

“Oh no, you’ve made it a thing now. I’m gonna expect this, every- single- year- from now on.” He says between kisses across your cheek and down your neck and upper chest. You begin to giggle and shriek in delight as his lips gently nibble at your skin. “Mmm.  Come on then. Let’s see what you got for me.” He says ripping himself away from you so you have the space to reach behind you for the zipper to your dress. 

The dress begins to relax its hold on your body, slowly exposing the black strapless lace bra to Peter before you slide the dress down the rest of your body to show off the matching lacey bikini briefs. You carefully step out of the puddle that now is the red velvet dress on your floor, your ankles only wobbling slightly as you still stand in your heels for him to take in the full sight.

He pauses for a moment silently taking you in before he gives a small nod. “Yes. Yes, this will do. Excuse me a moment while I go and write my thank you letter to San-“

“Peter.” You whine.

“Oh come on, don’t be bratty with me now.” He says jokingly as he steps closer and wraps you in his arms again.

“I thought you liked it when I was bratty.” You joke back as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Nope. You become completely intolerable and insufferable and…” You roll your eyes as he continues to list words, but nonetheless, begin to snake your arms from around his neck, trailing them down his chest as you begin to get down on your knees before him.

You begin to work open the button of his jeans, freeing his semi hard cock from its confines. He only stops his fake monologue about you acting like a brat when you take his length into your mouth and his hand involuntarily reaches out for the side of your head as he sighs. 

The only sounds that fill the room now are his small gasps and moans and your saliva slick lips around his cock. One of your hands braces itself on his thigh, whilst the other works the rest of his shaft your mouth won’t reach.

You pull off him with a sloppy pop of your lips and Peter groans before you begin to circle the tip of his cock with your tongue and he jumps away from you with sensitivity, suddenly worried he’d blow his load too soon if you continue like that. It makes you giggle.

His fingers reach around the flesh of your bicep and he pulls you up off the floor before pulling you into him, his head nuzzling into your neck, lips and teeth nibbling and teasing at your skin and driving you crazy. He’d worked out that you liked that on the second Christmas you had slept together. He loved the way it made you sigh but also giggle and shriek when the sensation grew too much.

“Ahhh Peter.” you cried out with a high pitched moan. 

He reluctantly broke himself away from you and the intoxicating smell of your favorite perfume so you could latch your mouth onto his, a satisfied smile struggling to be contained on your lips. He can’t help but smile back.

“Peter!” you shriek and giggle as he reaches around to pick you up and drop you back onto the covers of your bed.

Your hands get lost in his hair as he begins kissing his way down your chest. Your stomach involuntarily twitches as his lips move across it and the way his hands reach for your hips to forcefully hold you in place sends you reeling, a wave of arousal soaking your panties. His lips skip over your underwear, instead kissing at the inside of your thigh as his hands begin to relax on your hips, his fingers curling under the waistband of your underwear, ready to pull them down.

As he removes you of your underwear, he also takes the opportunity to rid himself of the flattering black long sleeved top he’d been wearing all evening. The removal of his shirt reveals a silver necklace that had been hiding beneath the shirt and the way the chain hangs off his neck has you biting your lip. It is so rare to see a man wear jewelry so you never realized the effect the sight had on you before, but there's something about the connotations and hidden meaning to it, his choice and confidence to wear it, makes you want to rub your thighs together in want. 

His fingers are suddenly teasing at your entrance though and its almost enough to take the edge off, or it would be if his finger hadn’t stopped at the first knuckle of his middle finger. You realize he’s only done it so he can spread the arousal that was already leaking out of your cunt around between your folds and across your clit so he can then go in and lick it all off. Your head falls back into the pillows of your bed as you sigh out his name in relief.

You can feel the focus he has radiating off of him without even looking as he begins to expertly lick up from your entrance, swirl his tongue around your clit and then back down again as he draws moans, ever increasing in volume, from your lips. You found out very early on in your yearly dalliances that he was an expert with that tongue, making you cum not once, not twice, but three times just from his tongue alone, when you told him no one had ever actually gotten you off that way before.

You could feel your first climax of the night building low within you, your muscles growing tight, clit growing extra sensitive as your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, encouraging him and guiding him and not allowing him to pull away until you finished. The pressure of his tongue grew firmer and you ground your clit down against it until that tight thread within you snapped, your hips stuttering as pleasure rippled through you. He held tightly onto you, lapping up everything you gave him and helping you ride it out until you were actively pushing him away from you. He gave your bare thighs a small satisfactory slap as he gave you his smug tight lipped  smile that seemed to say ‘another happy customer’ and you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle before turning your head and trying to hide the ear to ear smile that was on your face.

You were able to compose yourself as he shifted from the bed to shuck himself fully off the rest of his clothes, his jeans joining your red dress in a puddle on the floor, before he carefully lifted the necklace off over his head and placed it on your bedside table. You shifted yourself over on the bed as he came down to rest beside you, his hand reaching out to pull your face to him as he gave you a kiss before he encouraged you to climb up on top of him.  Your lips didn’t part from his as you straddled his waist, your cunt involuntarily rubbing itself along his hard length as your tongues intermingled with one another.

His fingers reached round to grab a hold of your ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh as he encouraged you to grind down harder. You moaned and gasped against his lips at the drag of your clit across his skin. Your open mouth before him allowed him to reach out for your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth making you moan louder, before he began to trail kisses down your chin and neck. You closed your eyes, getting lost in the feeling and the sounds of your own voice. It sent a new flood of arousal between your legs and you could feel Peter grinning against your skin as you worked your slick over his length.

You paused only long enough to reach over to your chest of drawers, pulling a box of condoms out of the second drawer. The position allowed Peter to attach his mouth over your breasts, his teeth biting at them over the lace bra. You reached behind you to unclasp it and take it off as you sat upright, Peter’s hands resting patiently on the tops of your thighs as he waited for you to then open the condom. You held out the torn open packet for him to take the condom and start rolling it down onto his length as you reached back over the side of the bed to drop the wrapper in the bin. 

You shifted your legs back slightly as you recentred yourself, one hand balancing on the bed, the other on his bare chest as he lined himself up with your entrance. He glided the tip of his cock against your folds, covering the tip of his cock with your slick before he began to encourage you back onto it. The slow fill of his cock inside you had you letting out a long sigh of satisfaction, your eyes falling closed, head tilting back as you savored the feeling.

It had been a slow year. Despite a brief hook up with a guy over the summer after a night out with friends and a quick tinder hookup in your hotel in Rome (where the guy spoke barely a lick of English), your only companion had been your old reliable rabbit toy. You’d be lying if you hadn’t been counting down the days to tonight the whole time you had been visiting your Mother. When your flight had been delayed, it was the thought of missing out on your one good and guaranteed fuck of the year that had stressed you out. Now it all seemed worth it.

Peter started slowly, his hips pushing up into you at an agonizing pace as he guided you down and your hips back with every thrust, the contours of his cock dragging agonizingly slowly across every sensitive spot inside you, working you up gradually to another earth shattering climax. Your body bowed over him as you let out small gasps of praise into his forehead, your fingers gripping tightly into the sheets either side of his head. You felt one of his hands run soothingly up your back and it sent shivers down your spine that only added to the sensation building in between your legs.

“Peter.” you sighed against him, as you pressed your forehead into his, your eyes closed in concentration as you chased that feeling inside you.

“What is it? What do you need?” his voice gently calls to you as he moves the hand that was caressing your back round behind your neck, pulling your lips down to his for a kiss.

“More. I need more.” you say equally as gently back into his lips. 

You feel his head give a small nod in acknowledgment before he seals the deal with a kiss, as his thrusts begin to grow quicker and firmer in pace. It makes him hit something deep inside you that has you crying out. Your eyes fly open, desperate to lock onto his. He looks up at you with such beauty and gratitude. It makes you want to kiss him again and you do, your tongue licking deeply and slowly into his mouth in rhythm with his thrusts.

Your thighs shudder slightly as the sensation between your legs changes and you know your cumming again but the feeling of his cock moving between your legs doesn’t stop. It works you through the high and he still doesn’t stop. Instead his thrusts grow fast as he searches for his own release. You brace yourself, holding yourself over him as he just takes what he wants. If he holds out long enough you think you can get out one more orgasm of your own.

You balance yourself on one arm as your other hand reaches between your legs, swirling rapidly at your clit as you push yourself against his length, feeling every sensation of his rapid thrust. Peter grunts in response at the sensation of your fluttering cunt and it forces him to find one final push, his hips sputtering only slightly before he increases his angle and speed one last time, then he’s embracing you.

His arms wrap tightly around you as your final climax soaks his cock. Your head is buried into his neck as you try to shut out the overstimulation for just a few more strokes of his cock before he stills, his length pulsating as he finishes, only adding to the sensitivity between your legs making you squirm. He’s quick to push you off him as you do, his own sensitivity unable to take the feeling.

You both pause breathing deeply as you come down before he gives you a small tap and you flop onto your side on the bed. He quickly gets up, kicking his legs out to disperse the blood around them as his cock softens. You close your eyes to revel in the last dregs of your orgasm as he goes to your adjoining ensuite to sort himself out.

He takes a little longer than usual and you begin to frown, but then you hear the flush of the toilet and the door opening and you settle. You quickly get up, flashing him a smile as you hobble to your bathroom with legs like a newborn calf. Usual he’d let out a proud little chuffing laugh but this year he doesn’t.

When you return to see him sat on the side of the bed in his underwear, his fingers reaching to fix the necklace he had taken off back over his head and around his neck, you realize he looks distracted. “What is it? What’s wrong?” you ask him as you climb over the bed to your rightful side and slip between the covers.

His head turns, eyebrows raising as if he’s only just noticed you’re back in the room. “Huh?” he says. “Oh, nothing.”

“Really?” you say as he shuffles himself round to face you, put he doesn’t get under the covers. Peter doesn’t sleep over. He stays for a debrief and a chat for maybe another hour, some years two, but always leaves to return to his own apartment and bed.

“It’s just,” he says as he places an arm under his head as he gets himself comfortable, “I was just thinking about what you said earlier.”

“What did I say earlier?” you reply as you shift into a similar position to his, facing him. You look like two kids at a slumber party who have moved so close to each other so you can whisper really quietly and not disturb the others who are sleeping.

“About pretending to have a boyfriend to get your Mom off your case.”

You frown at him, “Yeah, but it’d never work because she’d want to meet him.”

“Okay, yeah.” he says, but his tone isn’t one of defeat, it instead says ‘wait, hear me out’. “But what if you had someone to take home and pretend to be said boyfriend?”

You’re still confused. “What are you trying to get at here Parker?” You suddenly sit up, placing distance between the two of you as a realization hits you. “Wait, this isn’t you asking me out or trying to be my boyfriend is it? You know I don’t really do the whole dating thing. We have our arrangement and that's-”

“No. NO. Would you just hear me out.” he speaks over you and cuts you off as he too sits up defensively. “Look, I just thought we could come to some sort of arrangement.” You’re silent as he pauses and takes a deep breath and you wait for him to continue. “Okay.” he says, his hands folding in his lap, “This is probably gonna be my Aunt May’s last Christmas.” he says and the implication of his words make you bristle. He struggles to look at you, but your eyes remain fixed on him so he know that you are listening and paying attention, even if his words are starting to make you uncomfortable. “I don’t want her to die thinking I’m gonna spend the rest of my life alone, you know? I mean,” he sighs, collecting his thoughts before he continues, “I don’t want her to die without hope.”

“Okay.” you acknowledge quietly as you follow his words.

“So I was thinking, what if- just for this christmas,” he emphasizes, “what if we pretend to you know, actually date. Come the New Year we go our separate ways as normal, no strings attached, but you know, just to get our families off our backs so we can live our chosenly single lives.” He screws up his face a little at the word chosenly, which he’s all but sure he’s made up but figures he’s gotten his point across.

“So, we pretend to date for the holidays to get our parents off our backs?” you frown, checking you’ve got his proposal right.

“Yeah. You’d come for Christmas Eve dinner with my Aunt and I’ll…” his voice trails off as he wracks his brain for an equal solution for you.

“You’ll come to Boston with me for my Mother’s New Years party.” You fill in for him.

He hesitates a second realizing he’d actually need to travel and stay with you and your family to make things even on your side of things, but the thought of letting May die thinking he’s going to be lonely forever, has his stomach turning more so he hastily agrees. “Fine, but-” he interjects, knowing a single day with his Aunt for a supposedly 2-3 day trip with your family isn’t a fair exchange, “if my Aunt is still with us in February, you have to stop by on Valentines day.”

“I thought you just said we go our separate ways come January.” You respond.

“Yes, but one meal with my Aunt in comparison to a multi day trip to Boston is hardly an equal-”

“Fine. Fine.” You concede with your hands raised.

He relaxes slightly as you come to an agreement. “You wanna shake hands on it or something?” he offers. You roll your eyes, your fingers reaching for the pillow you’d pulled into your lap to nervously fiddle with instead, picking it up and throwing it at him. “Hey.” he jokingly exclaims as he holds his hands up to catch the pillow before it hits him in the face. “Is that any way to treat your new boyfriend?” he deadpans.

“Uuuhhgg.” you scoff back with another eye roll but you can’t help the tiny smirk that creeps into the corner of your mouth.

I'm going to upload the other parts of this mini series on the dates that match up with the story (Christmas Eve, New Years Eve), if you want to be added to the list below, please put it in writing. All current tags have been taken from likes, reblogs or comments from other posts about this series, if you wish to be removed, just let me know. (I had a few more names who liked posts but it wouldn't let me tag you, apologies, I'm not sure how to fix that but I hope this finds you anyway.) Once again if you did like this, please don't just like it, respond with some words of your own to give me a boost.

@sincericida @tarzinnia @raindropsandteaandtears @xenasolos @dil3mma @ms-wild-card-56 @shivani1902

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #Christmas Peter Parker story #tasm peter parker imagine #christmas imagine #holidate #fake dating #Peter Parker smut #one last date for christmas #andrew peter parker #andrew garfield peter parker

[battleangel]

Walking While Carefree & Black

Fetishized & dehumanized.

Daily misogynoir.

Harrassed on my daily walks for hugging a tree, picking a flower, laying on grass and stretching out my arms, twirling, smiling, being an unrushed unbothered carefree fierce ferocious unapologetic black woman who isnt on the way to somewhere, Im not going to 7-11 five minutes from my apartment, Im not rushing to work, Im not hurrying, Im not hustling, Im not bustling, Im not harried, Im not distratcted, Im not anxious, Im not impatient, Im not speedwalking, Im not in a car, Im not on a bike, Im walking on sidewalks, under bridges, near highways, busy intersections, busy traffic lights, near school buses, near angry white stay at home moms pushing their strollers, moms with toddlers shielding their eyes from me, white police men slowing their patrol cars when I am doing nothing but take a selfie under a bridge.

Why cant I be free?

Why cant I twirl?

Why cant I hug trees?

Why cant I treat a light pole as a stripper pole?

Is it a crime to joke around during the day when people are at school and work, jokingly twirl myself around the pole, pretend I am a pole dancer, and take a video selfie?

Will I be Sandra Bland'd?

Why cant I take pictures of a rose garden?

Why cant I take a selfie under a bridge? On a park bench?

Why cant I pick flowers near the sidewalk, smell them, place them behind my ear and skip down the sidewalk pavement?

Capitalism demands that I, a black woman, be a slave to their system but I left their system.

I left Amazon in a week with no job lined up.

I left Dow Jones with no job lined up.

I left Bank of America in 3 months with no job lined up.

I left Yale.

I quit my career coaching business after 3 years and over a hundred executive clients.

I permanently left corporate in 2019 and quit my business this year.

I am a permanent freeelancer now.

I am a podcaster now. We dont have sponsors yet so I dont currently generate income.

$55/hr at Amazon and after six months they were going to convert me with the coveted unrestricted stock aka golden handcuffs.

It was a cult. I left in a week.

I made -$7,000 last year as my business failed. I hated sales and referrals dried up.

Capitalism says I am a failure and a loser.

Capitalism says I, a nubian queen, Isis, an egyptian goddess, am only worth the revenue I generate.

I was the highest rated recruiter with the most hires at every Fortune 500 company I worked at.

I had over a hundred executive clients with my career coaching business that landed offers at Disney, Deloitte, Goldman Sachs, Amazon & Comcast with five figure salary increases.

I was a career advisor at Yale who coached graduate and postdoc STEM students.

Capitalism rolls its eyes and asks me, What have you done for me lately?

It demands I turn myself back into a machine to be deemed worthy.

But those days are over.

I will never work another 9 to 5 in any industry -- corporate, academic or non-profit.

I will never work a job that requires that I report into a supervisor.

I will never work another job with dictated shifts.

I will never sell anything to anyone ever again. I detest sales and I hate capitalism.

Capitalism is dehumanizing and it kills. It profits off of, relies on and thrives on energetic and psychic attacks that sends its adherents & acolytes to an early stress-induced death.

I was having GI issues and I healed myself.

No doctor, no gastroenterologist, no harmful laxatives, no chemical stimulants, no synthetic lab-made prescription medication that can all be addictive.

The smoothie takes 5 minutes and is just blending 1 cup pineapples, 1/2 cucumber, 1/4 grated ginger, 1 lemon, 1 orange, 2 tbs apple cider vinegar and 4 ice cubes & 1 cup of water in a mixer. Makes 2 servings, drink 1 cup in morning and 1 cup at night.

I just started walking outside in nature for an hour a day, not power walking, no step counting, no calorie counting, just being in nature, soaking up the sun, breathing the air, barefoot in grass, hugging trees, picking and smelling flowers, doing simple yoga exercises, abdominal massages, using a heating pad on my stomach, drinking 32 to 64 oz of water a day, eliminating coffe, not drinking soda during the week (used to drink 1 to 2 cans a day), fresh fruit & vegetable smoothie in the morning, oatmeal or grape nuts cereal with peppermint herbal tea no sugar or honey, homemade vegetarian salad & homemade vegetarian dressing (store bought dressing has a ton of fat, sugar amd calories) and mixed nuts as a snack Monday through Friday then I take a break and eat what I want on the weekend.

GI issues resolved themselves in a week, I am healthier, lighter, less sluggish, more fit, more in shape and more energetic. This is now my diet 75% of the time (5 days a week).

Decolonize your mind.

You have the ability to heal yourself. Stop running to doctors and quick fixes.

Change what you eat. Move more.

Get outside in nature! You are nature!

That is what heals. We come from nature and we are nature.

Trees, grass, sunlight, air, flowers, butterflies, streams, brooks, meadows, gardens, pumpkin patches, orchard farms, parks, nature trails.

Get outside.

Not to get in your car. Not to go somewhere.

Stop spending all your time penned inside like an animal and a prisoner.

Not to go to the mall, shopping, a restaurant, a salon, a spa, a movie theater, work, school, a grocery store, a laundromat, dry cleaners.

Not to run an errand.

Not to sit in traffic in a machine.

Not to burn calories.

Not to power walk.

Not to lose weight.

To reconnect with nature.

To reconnect your mind, soul, body, heart and spirit.

The west purposely severs this connection in service of capitalism.

Its up to you to restore it.

Walk. Breathe. Be. Skip. Twirl. Pose. Use the sidewalk as a catwalk. Take selfies. Take pictures.

Stop and smell the flowers.

Hug a literal tree.

Lay on the grass while cars roll past you with their windows down and stare at you like youre crazy.

Its 11 am on a Tuesday.

What the hell is she doing laying on the grass with her arms outstretched?

Why isnt she at work or at school?

Confuse people with your very presence.

I have a goth alt kawaii japanese street fashion aesthetic that includes boyshorts, leather garters, torn fishnets, leather chokers, hello kitty tiaras, six inch pink platform heels, black lipstick, mini cut out crop tops, extremely thick black eyeliner and hot pink eyeshadow.

For wearing this on Friday on my daily walk at 8:30 am which I then shared on TikTok, I was accused of being indecent, inappropriate for children to see going to school, people stared, rolled their windows down, honked at me, cars followed me, two men purposefully walked right into me bumping me (there was plenty of room on the sidewalk), an HVAC repairman leered at me outside of his van and literally just stared holes through me as I walked by.

Im 41. Im 5"1. Im 92 lbs. Im black and female.

I have a quirky style and aesthetic. I look young.

I also shaved my head bald a few weeks ago and have a bald fade.

People have since then called me a dyke, asked if I am trans, am I a boy or a girl, whats the deal.

Thats when I dont have a wig on.

I love different looks so I also wear long wigs.

The reaction is completely different when I wear a wig and people tell me how good I look, that people are slowing their cars down because I am attractive.

Bald fade, bony dyke who looks like a boy and might be trans.

Long wig, attractive girl, let me slow down and get a look.

Still black no matter the hair. Still followed.

Still harrassed.

A MAGA Proud Boy harrassed me with my bald fade while I was wearing an Eagles shirt and jeans. He stared at me as I took a selfie on a bench under a tree, when I got up to walk home, he started walking towards me and blocked my path in the small walkway we were both on and wouldnt let me pass.

Doesnt matter if its boy shorts and leather garters or an Eagles shirt and jeans.

I am harrassed for being a carefree black girl in capitalist Amerikkka.

#anti capitalism #green party #cornel west #socialism #environmetalists #tree huggers #nature lovers #heal yourself #plant medicine #herbal medicine #big pharma #gmos #abolish the police #black lives matter #blm #antiracism #lgbtq #transgender #feminism #feminist #patriarchy #third eye #ascension #self actualization #self expression #free spirit #be your true self #home remedies #black girl magic #limitless

[laundrybiscuits]

(continuing the MLP GURPS snippet)

“You what,” says Erica flatly.

“I said…Jester the Pegasus slits the chief Seapony’s throat. You said he was letting me pin the bronze seashell to his mane, right? So I shouldn’t have to roll for it, I can just use the edge of the seashell ‘cause his neck’s right there.” Dustin leans back with a shit-eating grin.

Eddie has to cover his own smile, because he recognizes the panicked look that Erica’s trying to hide. She’s the same kind of DM as Eddie is: she’s got a massive binder and detailed scripts for every possible way the story could go, because she likes to be prepared for anything. She just hasn’t learned yet that players are always, always going to try something you never saw coming because you assumed they were reasonable human beings and not chaos gremlins from a nightmare dimension.

She rallies like a champ. “Uh, sure, I guess. The hundreds of Seaponies around you go wild, because that was a super dumb thing to do. They’re gonna tear you apart if you don’t do something right now.”

Lucas leans in, eyes all lit up. “Okay, but, did the blood get onto the altar? I mean, the Moonlight Circle?”

Erica’s starting to grin too, lacing her fingers together as she catches on to what they’re after. “It sure did. Um, so…Jester the Pegasus Pony is standing over the fallen chief with a bloody shell in his teeth. The crowd of Seaponies is screaming at you, but the blood is already dripping onto the Moonlight Circle. It’s turning black as it reaches the salt water, and you can hear something real big coming up from the deep sea, wa-a-ay far down below.”

She’s pivoting with barely a stumble, going off-book to follow the story, and Eddie can’t keep from doing a thrilled little wriggle in his seat. A familiar laugh sounds from behind him, and he startles, flushing.

“Having fun?” Steve asks, resting his folded arms on the back of Eddie’s chair. Eddie has to tip his head all the way back to look at Steve.

“Hell yeah,” he says. “The Lady Sinclair is a demon incarnate.”

Erica beams. “Maybe you could keep up if you weren’t such a senior citizen. Need to get your walker from the nursing home, grandpa?”

“Youth of today have no respect.” Eddie wags a finger at her. “Keep that up and Steve’s going to swoop into the game like an avenging undead Seapony.”

“Steve is not involved in any of this,” says Steve. “Steve is a very generous and patient guy who lets unholy terrors take over his kitchen table and eat all his food.”

Eddie stretches up to pat his cheek. He misses slightly and ends up basically smacking Steve in the face. “Thank you, Steve,” he coos. “Say thank you, unholy terrors.”

“Thank you, Steve,” chorus Will and Lucas, who are precious angels too good for this world. Dustin and Mike pull grotesque faces that may or may not be based on faces Eddie has pulled in the past; Erica just sniffs in an unimpressed way. Eddie is going to keep these kids forever.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt…whatever this is.” Steve waves a hand at the piles of paper and dice and empty ice cream bowls. “I’m just gonna heat up some pizzas for dinner. Everyone okay with four-cheese and supreme?”

“Sounds great,” says Eddie. “We’re about ready to wrap up this session, I think.”

“What, no we’re not,” says Mike. “We’re about to kick the Seapony god’s ass.”

Erica wrinkles her nose. “As much as it might pain me to admit it…the senior citizen’s right. Fighting the Seapony god would be way too complicated a battle for your puny minds to handle right now. You dweebs don’t even know the insane twists I have planned.”

“Plus,” says Steve, “You dorks have been playing since before I got home like three hours ago. Give Erica a break, huh? You can pick this up another day.”

“I don’t need a break, you need a break, old man,” Erica says immediately, but she’s already starting to pack up her notes.

———

With the game mostly packed away, Eddie gets up to stretch; maybe he really is getting old, because he’s suddenly feeling the effects of sitting in a dining room chair for five hours all through his back. He’s gonna just keep blaming the bat venom for any aches and pains, though.

The boys are already busy trying to strategize for the battle ahead, even though Eddie would bet good money that Erica’s listening in and adjusting her own plans based on theirs. He thinks about saying something, but Erica’s earned this, and the little shitheads will never learn to keep their mouths shut if they don’t get burned once in a while. Instead, he wanders into the kitchen to help Steve out with the pizzas.

Steve’s staring thoughtfully into the freezer. “Think four’s enough?”

“Better make it five,” says Eddie. “Six if you got ‘em. I think Will grew another eight inches since yesterday.”

Steve groans. “Okay, but one of them’s going to be mushroom. Maybe if I do that one in the first batch, they’ll be hungry enough not to complain.”

“What are you talking about, Steve, mushrooms are the crowning glory of the forest. They are the simple food of the common man, yet rich and complex enough to adorn the plate of a king.” Eddie hops up to perch on the kitchen counter, narrowly avoiding smacking his head on the cabinets.

“Of course you like mushrooms, freak,” grumbles Steve. He freezes, looking pained. “I didn’t mean—”

Eddie scoots along the counter to kick him lightly. “Yeah, I know, Steve, don’t spin out. Just put the mushroom one in the oven for me and we’ll call it square.”

Steve smiles up at Eddie as he goes to do just that, dropping his hand to Eddie’s knee for a moment.

“I’m—gonna go make sure the kids aren’t murdering each other yet,” says Eddie.

#steddie #(mostly just a bit of implied pining but yk) #the first MLP GURPS snippet has been dominating my notes since I posted it #still don't know where this is going or if it's going anywhere but...here u go #it's fun as heck to write someone figuring out how to DM #sorry to anyone who thought I was going to write about GURPS mechanics because I will not be doing that #but uh if anyone has a copy of the 2e/3e basic set...maybe hmu? my books have long been lost to the ravages of time #fic: what will today's adventure be

[maries-gallery]

>:3

Tbh I really just want some snuggles lol not feeling the greatest so can Licht or Nokto take care of me till my head stops hurting? (Or both I will never say no to both)

(feel free to ignore but I saw your post and thought why not lol)

Ghoul! I'm so sorry to hear your head hurts like this :( I hope it gets better soon! I'd be so happy if this can bring you even the tiniest of comfort <3 Don't forget to get lots of sleep if you can! Sending you lots of love and all my best wishes!

genre: comfort, fluff

characters: Nokto and Licht Klein

warnings: none

moon banner by the lovely @/saradika

For more content like this, check the masterlist

"Is your head any better?' Nokto's voice rings in your ears and echoes in your head, way too loud for comfort. 

You close your eyes, fingers pressing down in circular motions on your temples to try and soothe the radiating pain that spreads to the back of your neck and tickles at your simmering nausea. 

You miss the concern that flashes through Nokto’s crimson gaze, his heart squeezing in his chest as you bury yourself deeper into your pillows. Guilt claws at the pit of his stomach. 

“You asked her the same question five minutes ago, I don’t think things have gotten any better since then.” Licht’s words sound distorted through the pain, far away yet too close at the same time. 

You can’t hold back an amused chuckle at Licht’s words, it’s true, Nokto had been asking you the same question with each visit. 

“It’s okay, Nokto. It still hurts but the pain is much better now.” You flash him a comforting smile. The last thing you want is for him to feel bad about your current state. 

As soon as they heard you had collapsed in the library from a thunderous headache, the both of them had come running to your bedroom, reaching your door at the same time and you like to imagine the surprise written on their features when they caught sight of one another. 

A smile had touched your lips as they both crossed your door, touched by their apparent worry and the silver platter filled with sweets and medication held in Licht’s hands and the books and games held in Nokto’s. 

“Take this, it’ll help.” Licht said, his neutral features betraying a vivid concern as he held out some round pills and a glass of water for you to take. You gladly took them, popping the medication in your mouth and gulping it down. 

Your eyes traveled to the array of sweets he had brought, all resting on a pretty porcelain plate hand painted with intertwined roses and leaves and all mouth watering. A fraisier bright with fresh strawberries, a religieuse rich with chocolate icing and a dollop of cream, and a millefeuille generous in its crème pâtissière filled layers. 

“Thank you” You whispered, “I really appreciate it.” A faint smile touched his lips, and your heart softened at the sight. The smile’s from Licht were rare, but all blinding in their earnestness and honesty. 

Your eyes turned to Nokto, who had been silent until now, a grin etched on his features, one that didn’t serve to mask the gentle care in his eyes. “And what are those?” 

“Those, little fox, are books. You’ve probably read them a hundred times already but can’t blame a guy for trying to cheer up a pretty girl.” He gave you a playful wink, and your insides fluttered at his affectionate nickname. Even with his flirty tendencies, Nokto’s love always shone through his actions. 

“Oh?” You perked up, eyes scanning the leather bound tomes in his arms with professional scrutiny. You remembered seeing these in Chevalier’s library once, rare books from overseas and one of your favourites. 

“We’ve got Midnight Cinderella, I think you called it? The Tale of the Rose knight and The Little Mermaid.” Nokto spread out the novels on your bed covers, revealing golden titles all familiar. 

Your fingers traced upon the letters, warmth spreading in your chest as you pictured Nokto sneaking up in Chevalier’s private library to find books to your taste. 

“Have you read any of these?” You asked him, eyes meeting crimson ones. 

He shrugged his shoulders, “Nope. But I figured it might be time to discover them with you.” 

“He wants to impress you.” Licht’s flat tone reached your ears, smooth and soft as a paved stone. A chuckle spilled from your lips at his words. 

“I-” 

“I think your ‘little fox’ might enjoy some silence.” The older brother continued, throwing his sibling a warning glance. And you wanted to laugh,but it hurt too much, so you just observed them with eyes filled with mirth and the sparkles of amusement. 

After this the two of them had left your room, only to pop by at the same time thirty minutes later to ask about how you were. And the last two hours had been filled with these punctual visits, Licht here to make sure you take your meds correctly and eat the sweets, Nokto here to pop a joke and brighten your day with more and more books or games to pass the time. 

And whilst your head still hurts, the pain has grown softer over the last hours, better with each visit the brothers paid to your chamber. 

“Thank you for being here.” Your words are soft as they leave your lips, quiet and like a caress to their worried hearts. Your smile all they need to offer you one of their own. 

“Well, shall we read now?” 

taglist: @aquagirl1978 @randonauticrap @xbalayage @ikemen-writer @scorchieart @ikesimp100

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince fluff #ikemen prince fanfiction #ikemen prince fanfic #ikemen prince licht #ikemen series #ikemen cybird #ikemen licht klein #licht klein #licht klein fanfic #licht klein fanfiction #ikepri #ikepri fanfic #ikepri fanfiction #ikepri fluff #ikepri licht #ikepri licht klein #ikemen prince nokto #ikemen nokto klein #ikepri nokto #nokto klein #nokto klein fanfic #nokto klein fanfiction #nokto klein fluff

[sweetrevxnge]

Ghosts In The Snow

Chapter Five

Pairing: Vampire!Kylo Ren x Reader AU

Summary: Six long years had passed under the reign of the First Order. The bitter winters grew longer, and as they did, hope faded from the hearts of the citizens of Hosnian Prime. As a lieutenant in the Resistance cavalry, it was your duty to nurture that ember of hope. After a mission takes an unexpected turn, you are taken prisoner by a commander in the First Order, a mysterious man with an insatiable appetite—for violence, power, and you. In the coming days, you must keep the spark of your own hope alive from the dark confines of the Commander's castle.

Warnings: sexual content, violence, blood kink, gore, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 3k

Chapter-specific CW: compulsion, light emotional manipulation (but it's ok bc he's a hot vampire)

A/N: "how am I supposed to live laugh love under these conditions?" -y/n to kylo probably

───────── ❅ 🦇 ❅ ─────────

“After you, my dear.”

The threshold of the doorway was all that stood between you and the prospect of freedom. Or at least, so you thought.

Moonlight peaked through the dark clouds above, flooding the spacious courtyard Ren had brought you to with silver light. Disappointment sank through you like a stone—not that you were expecting him to loosen your invisible lead enough to allow you to roam an open area of the castle’s property. All things considered, this was generous.

Tentatively, you stepped out into the night, disregarding your lack of footwear as you followed the ivory tiles lining the path. Short, frostbitten hedges surrounded you, perfectly manicured despite their leaves being brittle and sparse. Snowflakes dusted the earth, falling like tiny, frozen kisses on your skin.

Woven throughout the foliage were dozens of rosebushes, their thorns now all that remained of their beauty. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the garden in bloom, with rays of sunlight bathing the roses until their petals unfurled, inviting bees to collect pollen from each colorful bundle. But spring had long since passed. The stems had morphed into skeletons, their wilted petals cracking under the blanket of frost. It was oddly beautiful; something that was once so vibrant, now faded and cold, preserved by winter’s embrace.

Around you stood the high walls of the castle, with elegant archways and stained windows. Everything felt venerable, even down to the footsteps immortalized in the tile from centuries of tread, aging the fortress well beyond the Empire’s rule. Judging by the weathered state of the walls encasing you, the castle was likely constructed during the Grand Republic’s reign, dating it beyond the past three hundred years. To think that there was a time when its halls had been occupied by diplomats—ones who placed the interests of the people above their own aspirations. Much like the garden, their memory had faded in the presence of the First Order.

You stopped in front of two black iron benches arranged in the center of the court. They accented the focal piece of the garden: a pond, sheathed by a layer of glistening ice. You pictured a family of ducks paddling through it in the summer, creating tiny ripples as they splashed the cool water onto their feathers. The irony of peace existing in a place of such violence.

“What do you think?” Ren asked behind you, joining you in observation of the frozen water.

Releasing a long breath, you answered bluntly, “It’s hard to say. Everything’s dead.”

He chuckled at your honesty. “Yes. But even now, there is a certain beauty to it, wouldn’t you agree?” He stepped closer, pressing his chest flush against your back, offering you no heat. There was nothing warm or soft about him. For all you knew, he was made of marble beneath the layer of black fabric—his body temperature suggesting as much.

You instinctively pulled away, turning to face him. Quick breaths passed through your lips, the wisps of vapor lingering in the air like ghosts. Ren was frightening and beautiful, making him the most dangerous kind of monster. Not the kind that mothers warned their children of through tales, hoping to deter them from venturing too far into the woods, but the kind that the ladies at court would gossip about. The handsome devil.

“From a certain point of view, I suppose,” you finally said, turning your back on him once again. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing—even if he had heard your inner dialogue earlier.

Ren walked alongside you as you continued to meander through the garden. Even the slightest brush of his arm made the hair on the back of your neck stand. Although, in fairness, the culprit could very well have been the winter air, too.

You considered making conversation with him, less because you were interested in what he had to say, but rather as a pleasantry in return for the change of scenery. When you opened your mouth to speak, you found that the words were lodged in your throat, impossible to push out. Perhaps it was the icy air burning your airway, or another force entirely. Regardless, you continued to walk in silence, sorting through your thoughts—as you suspected he was, too.

It seemed as if the tile path had transformed into shards of glass by the way your feet ached, each step sending a wave of pain through your nerves. Determined to stay outside as long as possible, you ignored it, slowing your pace to accommodate.

“You’re shivering,” Ren stated, as if you were somehow unaware of your chattering teeth.

“Yes, I know.”

“Would you like to go inside?”

You froze in place, but unlike in the forest, this was not his doing. He came to stand in front of you, tracing your face with eyes as black as obsidian.

“I doubt that decision is mine to make,” you countered. The illusion of free will—as if you weren’t trapped in this castle because of him.

“You would be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, yes, how could I forget? The man who slaughtered my entire squadron—my savior.”

His jaw tensed. “It’s not as if I was acting of my volition. I was merely protecting my men, keeping my oath. Surely that is something you can understand.”

Of course it was. But you had failed to do that, and now you would spend a lifetime being haunted by it.

“Enough,” you said, tearing your eyes away from him as you turned to face the withering garden. The frayed threads holding you together snapped, allowing the flood of emotions to pour in. As it did, you wondered if it would always be like this. Reminded of the carnage every time you laid eyes on him. Sentenced to a miserable existence with the man responsible for your nightmares.

A hand came to rest on your shoulder. You shuddered at the touch. “For what it’s worth, their deaths were wholly unnecessary.” There was a trace of remorse in his words, quickly replaced by his usual tone. “But such is the nature of war, my dear.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting your tongue before you could say anything else. When you opened them again, Ren was standing in front of you, close enough to hide the moonlight behind him. 

“Why did you do it?” Your voice cracked as you spoke, fighting desperately to hold back your frustration.

He furrowed his brows, confused by your question. “The Supreme Leader’s orders were clear–”

“No,” you snapped, a harsh edge replacing the weakness in your voice. “I mean, why did you capture me? How is it fair that I should be the only survivor, condemned to live out the rest of my days under your thumb?”

As soon as the words had left your mouth, you wished you could reach out and shove them back into the depths of your mind. He didn’t deserve to see you like this, brimming with raw emotion. It was a state you reserved only for those closest to you, those who you would likely never see again.

Ren was silent, stoic. In a moment like this, you wished you possessed his ability to probe minds. Instead of offering you an answer, he cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone and jaw, tracing a line as light as a whisper over your skin.

Immediately, the tension in your shoulders dissolved, washed away along with every concern occupying your mind. Despite his cool touch, warmth rose to your cheeks.

“Have you ever considered the possibility that this arrangement could liberate you in ways you’ve never imagined?” His voice was silky, falling on your ears like a symphony of angels. A soft cloud settled over you, eliciting a strange feeling within your chest as you gazed up at him, searching his black eyes for an answer to his question.

“I have not, my lord,” you whispered, the words leaving your tongue like a prayer.

Ren’s lips parted, revealing brilliant white teeth as he grinned, amused by your response. “Of course not. And why should you have? Such thoughts have no place in a mind as troubled as yours.” He swept his fingers over your cheek again, soothing you.

You nodded into his hand. The cold that gnawed at your fingers and toes was nothing more than a distant sensation, an ache quelled by his touch. He glanced down at your figure, frowning at the sight of your dress. In the time that the two of you had been standing outside, a light layer of snow had melted into the thin fabric of your gown, clinging to your skin. With deft fingers, he tied the strings of your cloak into a small knot and smoothed the fabric over your shoulders.

“Now, let’s go inside. I can’t have my bride freezing to death,” he said in a low tone, leaning closer to your lips. “Next time, I advise you to wear more fitting attire.”

Next time. Intoxicated by his words, you nodded in agreement, your eyes still fixed on his.

As if you were a sack of feathers, he hoisted you off the ground, holding you as he did in the forest. Only this time, there was no fear in your heart, no panic closing off your throat. With your hands clasped behind his neck, he carried you back into the castle, moving swiftly through the courtyard. Although the taste of freedom was dwindling with every step he took, you were content—almost pleased—to be returning to the safety of your chambers.

Your head felt as light as the cushions of the chaise lounge as Ren set you down upon it. The memory of where his hands had gripped you remained after he released you, leaving your skin tingling at each spot. In the darkness, it was nearly impossible to see him moving through your chambers, an issue remedied by a fire roaring to life in the hearth.

Satisfied with his work, Ren stood behind the sofa, peering down at you laying across it. Golden flames flickered in his eyes, softening his strong features. Your cloak had shifted, exposing more of your nightwear than you would’ve preferred. But you didn’t mind. In fact, you liked it—how the sleeves had fallen past your shoulders and the hem of the dress had gathered above your knees. You felt ethereal, basking in the glow radiating from the hearth. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been this relaxed.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you relished the warmth spreading through your toes. “Who should I thank for starting this fire—you or your magic?” You made a vague gesture with your hands, wiggling your fingers as if you were casting a spell.

He chuckled quietly, moving to sit in the chair across from yours. “Neither. Thank the tinderbox that was left on the mantle.”

Propping yourself up with your elbow, you turned to face him, letting your dress drape over your hips. The knot at your neck loosened with every movement you made until you finally grew tired and pulled it free, shedding your cloak onto the sofa. Under any other circumstance, you would be scrambling to cover yourself. This was completely unlike you—to allow anyone other than your handmaid to see you like this. Harlot, your mother would say in her scolding tone, coupled with a scowl. But she wasn’t here—only Commander Ren.

“I find it hard to believe that you’re incapable of starting a fire, given everything else you can do.”

“Unfortunately, I was never any good at it,” he said, his eyes wandering to the golden flames. “Pyromancy, however, has always been one of my strongest suits.”

The conversation stalled for a moment as you watched his fingers glide over the armrest, hypnotized by the patterns he traced in the black velvet. His veins mingled with tendons as he moved—an intricate dance beneath his ivory skin. Somewhere deep within you, an ember flickered to life, its warmth spreading throughout your being. It was unusual, but not unwelcome.

“How can you do these things?” you asked, your voice floating through the air like the wisps of a dandelion.

He sighed, rolling his tongue over his teeth in thought. Finally, he said, “I was raised by witches.”

Your eyes widened—not in shock at his answer, but because he had answered at all. Rey’s words echoed in your mind. Commander Ren is a very private man.

“Witches? As in, multiple?”

He snickered softly. “Just two.”

“I see,” you whispered, watching him intently. There was something inherently alluring about him, an appeal that had drawn you in the instant you laid eyes on his portrait. An indescribable—yet persisting—quality. A charm.

After the success of your first question, you found the courage to pose another. “What were they like?”

A beat passed before he spoke, unease filling your stomach as you waited. The look in his eyes told you that your valiant effort was in vain. “What else did the handmaid tell you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his seat.

His words hit your chest like a thousand stones, shattering your confidence. Rey had warned you—begged you—to not discuss the matter of the Commander, fearing the consequences awaiting her if she did. Guilt crashed into you.

“Nothing. She said nothing else,” you stammered, pushing yourself up to a sitting position. With pleading eyes, you turned to him. “I swear it by all the gods.”

Ren stood to his feet, shushing you as he strode toward you. “There’s no need to call upon the gods, dear. I believe you.” His long fingers caressed your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. “I also believe that the girl is sensible enough to want to keep her head attached to her body. You asked her about me, didn’t you?”

Your heart slammed into your ribs, as if it were attempting to leap out and crawl into Ren’s hands. There was no use in arguing—he already knew the truth. The outcome of your fate depended on any ounce of respect you could earn from him. Lying now would be a disservice to everyone involved.

“Yes, I admit, I asked her to tell me what she knew of you, but she refused. It was only after I continued pressing the matter that she finally answered. Please, have mercy on her, she is innocent–”

He silenced you by pressing a finger against your lips. “If I beheaded every servant who spoke ill of me, the castle would be swept by ghosts.”

You said nothing, an unspoken understanding passing between you. While you believed him, there was also validity in Rey’s fear. Even the servant boy cowered in his presence. If one thing were true in this life, it was that rumors carried weight, and at times, merit.

“Why do they fear you so much?” you asked as his thumb brushed over your chin.

Ren let out a long sigh as he ran his fingers down your neck, pausing at your pulse point. “People fear what they do not understand.”

The air grew thick in the silence. A familiar sensation embraced you, igniting every fiber of your being under his touch. Much like the fire in front of you, the ember in your belly became an inferno. Your gaze fell to his pillowy lips, imagining what they would feel like against yours—what they would feel like on every inch of your skin. As soft as sin, probably. His eyes were coals, twinkling in the amber light, a tell that your thoughts were not as quiet as you had hoped.

“What do you fear most, darling?” he asked, his voice low and inviting. “I imagine that a woman like yourself doesn’t fear much, but everyone has their weakness.” He tilted your head slightly to the side, eyes wandering down your neck. “What is yours?”

Blood rushed in your ears, making you dizzy. Through the haze in your mind, a tiny voice broke through, begging you to resist him—resist the urge to bend to his will. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to barricade your thoughts, and as his eyes bore into yours, irises now a deep shade of red, his devilry won.

“Purpose.” The word passed through your lips like a specter, carrying a cadence that was foreign to your ears. “I fear a life without purpose.”

Satisfaction radiated off of Ren. “I see. And that is exactly why you were the only survivor.” He stretched his hand over your throat, applying gentle pressure to either side of your neck. The rhythmic drumming of your heart pulsed through his fingertips. “Because your purpose is so much greater than serving the Resistance.”

“What do you believe my purpose is, Commander?”

The backlight of the hearth cast a halo around him, deifying him. Ignoring your inquiry, he said, “The night is almost over. I suggest you get some rest.”

With that, he left you, somehow more cold and alone than you had been before. As the latch clicked shut, the haze lifted, quickly replaced by dread. Your vision tunneled on the fire in front of you, the black edges snuffing out your surroundings, narrowing your view to only the flames dancing over the logs.

As you stood from the lounge, your knees buckled, forcing you to summon all your strength to reach the bed before collapsing. Chest heaving, you stared up at the canopy, hoping to find anything but flecks of light dancing across your eyes. The voice in your head was shouting now, building to a deafening pitch, its message clear.

In the wake of his presence, two things remained: your distrust of Commander Ren and the strange warmth that had settled in your stomach.

#vampire kylo aka the light of my life #also im posting this right before my first night shift bc i really wanted to get into the vampire mindset #ben solo #ben solo x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x you #ben solo x fem!reader #ben solo x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars self insert #kylo ren smut #ben solo smut #my writing #vampire!kylo #vampire kylo #vampire kylo ren #medieval!kylo #medieval kylo ren #medieval ben solo

[marvelmusing]

An Era of Power

Part Six

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Preparations for the Winter Fete have begun, and your ability to master your power increases as you return to lessons. The General surprises you with a visit.

Word Count: 1.2K

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

“Ouch!” You exclaim when Baghra’s cane once again hits your arm. In the chilly winter air, your kefta provides some warmth, but it doesn’t stop the occasional shiver when a strong gust of wind hits your face.

It had taken some time, but you had decided to finally take up Baghra’s lessons again, much to both yours and the old woman’s delight.

“Concentrate.” She snaps at you.

Standing in front of the lake, you’re attempting to use your power to maintain the thick ice covering it, as it had during the middle of winter. It’s a large surface area that shifts when you make the slightest change. Too much pressure will crack the ice, too little and you’ll fail to freeze the water to a firm enough state.

“I am.” You protest, but you are a little distracted this evening and Baghra isn’t convinced.

Preparations for the Winter Fete have officially begun, and the entire palace is buzzing with excitement. It’s hard not to be swept up by the glamour of it all, and to wonder what the day itself will bring.

“Dreaming of dancing with your dark prince?” She mocks, and you roll your eyes.

Baghra had always seemed contemptuous of your relationship with the General, and the closeness between you both which increased with every interaction.

“And what if I am?”

“He isn’t who you think he is.” Your brow furrows, and whilst you usually ignore her comments, this time you sigh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” There’s a snap from the lake in front of you, as a crack forms where the ice is thinnest.

“Concentrate!”

“I will if you are quiet!” You hiss at her, pushing your focus back onto the task at hand.

“Do you think the volcra will sit quietly and allow you to unmake them?” You grit your teeth, trying to block out her words.

“No, but they certainly won’t try to engage in conversation.” You remark.

You thrust your hands out and the ice thickens to a permanent state, safe enough for hundreds of people to walk all over. Raising a brow as you observe your work, you feel quite satisfied with your success.

“I would ask if you are happy now, but I don’t think you’re capable of such an emotion.” Your words die as you turn and see the General standing beside Baghra, a half smile on his lips and amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“An impressive feat.” He remarks, nodding towards the lake, and your face warms despite the cold winter breeze.

“You saw how strong she is. Give her a bear claw or a shark tooth, see what good it does her.”

Your heart sinks with her words, and you worry for a moment that the General will agree. He shakes his head resolutely.

“She’ll have the Stag.”

“I’m right here.” You remind them, and they both turn to you. It’s almost frightening being the subject of such attention.

You fix your eyes on Baghra.

“I will have the Stag, because I want it.” Baghra scoffs, but doesn’t argue. “Are we done for today?”

She nods, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture, and you don’t waste a moment, turning towards the path that will take you back to the Little Palace. You haven’t gone far before you hear Baghra say to the General,

“She’s as ambitious and foolhardy as you are, boy. It’s no wonder you’ve been able to sink your claws into her.”

You don’t hear the General’s response over the crunch of snow beneath your feet, and the winter wind that tugs at your kefta. What you do hear is footsteps from behind you, and you turn. In a few strides the General is beside you and the two of you walk side by side over the snow-covered grounds.

“Don’t pay too much attention to her.” He cards a hand through his hair in frustration. “I rarely do.” A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

“She ruffles you, doesn’t she?”

He doesn’t answer your question, instead his eyes narrow - almost in disbelief - as he tells you,

“No one has ever spoken to her as you do.”

“I care very little for her opinion of me.” You admit with a shrug. “And one day I will turn her cane back into a tree.”

He laughs, and your smile widens. You wish he would laugh more often. A particularly icy gust of wind tears at you, biting into your exposed skin, and you rub your hands together rapidly to conserve what little warmth you have left.

The General unclasps his cloak, and drapes the dark fabric around your shoulders. Your lips part, ready to insist that you’re fine, but he gives you a firm look which has the words dying on your tongue. You’re glad it isn’t his cloak with the fur collar, as that would have been far too heavy for you to carry.

“Are you looking forward to the Fete?” He asks as you pull his cloak tighter around your body. You nod and excitement fills your expression.

“Genya says she’s personally working on my kefta for the Fete, and I already know it’s going to be beautiful. David has been working on a new formula for the fireworks display. He hasn’t gotten it right yet, and there was a small explosion in the workshop the other day, but I know he’s close to perfecting it. I’ve never actually seen fireworks before, and I think they’re going to be my favourite part of the day.”

Your words are halted when you look at the General, there’s a small smile on his lips, and something in his dark eyes that you fail to decipher. You duck your head, staring down at your feet.

“I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about any of this.” Despite only being a Durast for the first few years of your life, you have always been fascinated by the abilities of a Fabrikator. The General shakes his head and his smile remains.

“Please continue. Such enthusiasm is a rarity these days.”

Your smile returns quickly, and you leap back into your explanation.

“Some of the Fabrikators have been working with the Inferni to create some handheld fireworks. It’s essentially a thin piece of metal with a flammable coating at one end, and when lit it should create a small continuous sparkle until the material burns out. It’s incredible.”

His smile softens as he observes your excitement and you can see he’s genuinely interested in your words.

“I have to admit, the Fete isn’t one of my favourite occasions.” The General admits as the two of you walk over the gravel which leads to the entrance to the Little Palace, and you nod.

You had heard that he insisted on calling the Grisha performances a demonstration. Something of function, not entertainment. You can understand his reasoning. Grisha aren’t a pretty party trick for nobles, you are people.

“But your perspective has reminded me that this Fete is an opportunity for Grisha to flourish as they always should.”

The two of you stop in the hallway, devoid of anyone besides the two guards for the evening. Despite knowing that you must separate, your rooms are in the opposite direction to his, neither of you seem to want to leave.

Slowly, you begin to slide his cloak from your shoulders.

“Keep it.” He insists softly. “The corridors are cold during this time of year.” You smile gently, tugging the fabric close.

“Thank you.”

“Have a good evening.” He says, bowing his head politely, and you mirror his actions.

“Good evening, General.”

»»---------------------►

AEOP Tag List: @budugu @agentstarkid @seraferna @watersquirtpewpewboomm @marvel-ousnesss @venomsvl

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#an era of power #the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #the darkling x y/n #the darkling x you #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone

[atths--twice]

Chapter Three

Heuvelmans Lake

Blue Ridge Mountains, GA

2006

“I don’t understand,” William said, standing on the sand and staring out at the lake as evening settled around them.

“What don’t you understand?” Scully asked, smiling at him as she placed her hand on top of his head, stroking his hair.

“Well,” William said, his brow furrowed with concentration. “You said Big Blue lives in this lake, Daddy.”

“I did,” Mulder agreed with a nod.

“And that he’s a huge lake monster.”

“Well, monster is not a word I generally like to use.” He caught Scully’s eye and she shook her head as she smiled.

“Is that right?” she asked, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head.

“Yes. I prefer…” He gestured with a hum, searching for the correct word to describe Big Blue. “I’d say he’s more of a creature. A lake creature.”

“A lake creature,” Scully said and Mulder nodded, putting his arm around William’s thin shoulders.

“Yup.”

“But, Daddy,” William said, looking up at him with his big blue eyes. “Even if he is a lake creature, he couldn’t live here. The deepest lake in America is only one thousand nine hundred and forty three feet deep and that’s Crater Lake in Oregon. We’re in Georgia and I don’t think this lake is that deep.”

“How do you…?” Mulder asked him in surprise. “How do you know the depth of Crater Lake?”

“Grandma told me about lakes and oceans when I stayed the night at her house. She has a ‘cycopedia book with information about them. She showed me.”

“Okay,” Mulder said, looking out at the water and then back at William. “So what are you thinking?”

“You said Big Blue is really big.”

“I did.”

“Well,” William said, looking out at the water and shaking his head with a deep sigh. “I don’t think this lake is big enough for Big Blue to live here. I think he would need something bigger. Like the ocean. It’s so deep. And he would have more space to move around.”

“That’s true,” Scully said, nodding as she too looked out at the lake, glancing back at Mulder with a half smile.

“It is, Daddy. I don’t think you’re right about him being here,” William said, almost sadly.

“It wasn’t me who first said he lives here,” Mulder said, shaking his head. “People have claimed it for years. I just know about it.”

“Yeah. But, I think they got it wrong too. The lake’s just not big enough for a… creature like Big Blue.”

“It’s hard to ignore the science, Mulder,” Scully said, smiling at him over William’s head.

“Science, huh?” he asked and she nodded before clapping her hands together.

“You know what? I’m hungry. Is anyone else hungry?”

“I am!” William shouted and Scully laughed.

“Let’s go get some dinner. How about pizza and then maybe some ice cream?”

“Yeah!”

They started walking to the car, his two skeptics, further discussing the improbabilities of Big Blue, but Mulder remained on the shore staring at the lake.

“I still believe,” he said quietly. “Science isn’t always completely accurate.” He smiled and nodded affectionately to the water.

As he started to leave, he heard a noise that caused him to turn around and then draw in a deep breath.

“Scully!” he called out in a loud whisper, not taking his eyes off the water and the giant creature that had just surfaced. “William! You guys… he’s… look at him! He’s beautiful!”

Big Blue looked left and right, his long neck swiveling gracefully, his round back and then his tail were visible before he slipped back under the water and out of sight, leaving Mulder completely dumbfounded.

“Mulder! Come on. We’re hungry!” Scully called to him and he shook his head in disbelief.

“Did you see him?” he asked as he hurried to her, William already in the car. “Tell me you saw him!”

“Who? Big Blue? Mulder… ”

“He was just there. Scully, I swear to you I saw him!”

She looked out at the now still lake, the ripples from Big Blue surfacing, widening out and appearing like the ebb and flow of the lake. Looking back at him, she shook her head as she placed a hand on his arm.

“I didn’t see anything,” she said quietly. “But… we’re here for three more days. Maybe that will change.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, looking back at the water and smiling as he thought of Big Blue and how aptly he had been named. “We packed the video camera, right? And the digital camera? And backup memory cards and extra videotapes?”

“Umm. Yes. Yes. And no,” she said.

“Then we’re going to need to make a stop after dinner, because there’s some evidence that needs to be collected.”

“You really saw something, didn’t you?” she asked softly, searching his face.

“I did.”

“Then let’s eat and we’ll go get what we need.”

“Ahh, Scully,” he said, smiling happily as that old feeling of excited anticipation stirred inside of him. “Let’s go.”

#xf fanfic #the x files #msr #love #happy #family fluff #domestic life #domestic fluff #sharing the past #lake monsters #big blue #I want to believe

[sam-glade]

A Lesson to Learn

Characters: Anthea Setting: Sunblessed Realm WC: 740 CW: injury (ice burn)

The child is thirty-five.

"You will learn one day," Master Mikkel has told them a few years ago, when they were too preoccupied with everything within them to mind the world without, "that not all inconveniences should be avoided."

The child nods in agreement at the memory of his words and swallows tears, and tells themselves that the first shearing is a formal function and so their appearance must be perfect, and reddened eyes are not perfect. That on this particular day, they mustn't be an inconvenience, since it wouldn't please Father.

They wash their face with cold water that splashes the fine white linen of their tunic. The fabric clings to their chest, and they avert their eyes from its shape reflected in the mirror. They suppose they should change the tunic now, but this is the longest one they've found, brushing their calves as they walk, like a proper skirt would be.

They turn away from the dresser and stroke their hair – it's already combed into waves like the grain on the ebony desk in Grandfather's study. It's long enough to reach the tunic's hem, and it will be a shame to cut it, but that is what the tradition demands, and that is not going to be their biggest regret. The hair will grow back.

They give in and braid it into a fanciful pattern one last time.

It takes her further three months to tell Master Mikkel that he was right, and she was wrong. That she regrets not talking to Father sooner. That she wants Master Mikkel to be there when she does. He has been the only person who hasn't called her by that name even once in that time.

~*~

The Young Prince is fifty-six.

She stares at the grey of the blade against the grey of the stone bench, and at the red and pink on it. The sight doesn't phase her, even though it's her skin she's looking at, skin that has been on the palms of her hands.

Her hands are numb, the pain is dull; that isn't why she clenches her jaw. She tilts her head back against the brick wall of the garden and looks at the sky. Its vastness makes her vision swim. Warm hands that are wrapping white strips of linen over the wounds pause, and Master Mikkel's voice reaches her like through a down pillow:

"Light-of-my-Sun, please stay with me."

She rolls her head against the wall. Her eyes slide over the bench, and the wine-red roses, and the emerald leaves, until they find his face and fixate on the two distant storm clouds that are his eyes.

His eyes flicker back to her hands, while his nimble fingers fasten the bandage. His voice is like velvet when he asks if it's too tight, if there is any pain or discomfort. She shakes her head; the movement makes her queasy.

She recognises the way his eyes narrow and his eyebrows form two straight lines that point to a small vertical crease at the base of his nose. She has to recognise it, since he will not say a word of disapproval to her anymore.

"I have not learnt the lesson yet," she translates. "I should have let my Sword materialise sooner."

He shows her how to carry the Sword on her shoulder and goes with her to Father's study.

~*~

The First Prince is one hundred and ninety-one.

She stands in front of Grandfather's ebony desk and bows lower than the etiquette demands – and he understands the gesture. She glances past him, at the large window and her reflection in it, distorted but recognisable, and at Master Mikkel's next to hers. She looks back to Grandfather before their eyes meet, since she cannot appear dependent on her teacher.

"I wish to marry General Erya, Light-of-my-Sun, acknowledging her status and history."

She holds Grandfather's eyes with her chin raised and her hands relaxed at her sides. She does not ask for permission nor approval – and as predicted, Grandfather offers it anyway, in a shaking voice. He expresses best wishes, and asks about the white flower, and wipes a tear from his wrinkled eyes while she tells him that she expects to receive it on Monday.She uses that moment when he isn't looking at her to meet the reflection of Master Mikkel's eyes. I have learnt the lesson, she wants to tell him. He smiles with pride.

#Days of Dusk #my writing #snippet #writing #writeblr #Anthea #I've started doing a bunny picrew and tearing up

[uroborosymphony]

FOR @ECLAVIGNE ⬩ 26 FEBRUARY 2023 ⬩  MIDNIGHT

In the heart of the night, the core of winter, the wind was cold, made of ice. The trees and leaves, dancing under the breeze as the lamia was standing still, only these white locks of hers floating around her frame like Medusa. Calixtus Orion. The Witch Killer, Traitor of the Night. Her name and her titles were on the lips and fangs of every single creature of the night in 19th century during the Great War against the Witches and the Order of the Knights. Fierce and feared, she was a conquerant. Two centuries have passed then, with its battles, its sorrows, its peaces and pains. Hasn't she lost her mind after the great defeat - cutting her own head, slicing her own flesh and limbs with her own sword she kept on pulling from her shadows, over and over, for a hundred nights of red moon say the tales. Desperate. Humiliated. Damned to live with the weight of her mere existence. It's just Calista now. Many would have thought the 12th daughter of Hecate did give up on her quests and journeys however, at the dawn of the 21st century, her thirst for new battles were now running under her skin. The unexpected have made its way to modern times. New powers she has witnessed from Sons and Daughters of the Gods who got reincarnated among the humans. It became part of a new plan of hers : to steal the said powers and use these them to fulfill her ultimate goal : her end. To achieve that, she was ready to open the doors of Hell again. Vine. She often thinks of the Ruler himself. Could he be an ally, again? Certain not. Her hatred for a man who enslaved her soul and made a fool out of her TWICE was still burning, even 200 years later. It wasn't his help she would ask for tonight, no, but something completely degrading : to finally work for him. Ugh. The vampiric creature she was had no choice, in order to carry on her new obsessions she had to reconnect with the World of the Night , the one she has rejected like her own skin. She needed to walk down the underworld realms again, to re open these doors, to be aware of what was happening among the creatures of fires and eveil, to see if the new generations of Witches have rebuilt themselves after the massacre she orchestred, to taste the waters and wonder if the ghouls and vampires were still oh so fond of her.. or Not. It did take her days and days before finally accepting that : yes she had to summon him, the King, and so she does, at the top of this hill she was standing on. A call the lamia knew he would answer. In her black attire, she feels him, in her back and a smirk is drawn on her lips, her fang showing, as nontchalently she looks above her shoulder.

"Vous, ici?"

All languages could be spoken in between the two hellish beings, languages from both the earthling realms and the underworld ones as they mastered all of them. Her choice was always inspired by one of their adventures. French, for the in 1845, from the Atlantic lands of the French coasts to the Eurasian mountains for the as a new race of Blood Witches was birthed among the humans - They, of course, exterminated the entire line to the womb. Have she changed? Her skin remained untouched, immaculate, undamageable. Her hair however, turning more and more white as she was becoming more and more powerful through her blood empowerment. And her eyes, these golden orbs of hers, telling a different story, heavier, darker. Vine met her when she was 400 years old only, the lamia freshly turned 600 this year.

"My My. Greedy for my presence, are we? Do not tell me you have missed my fangs and claws in such unbearable ways you would come and get me like this, Demon? How Scandalous."

It was one of her usual games, out of playfulness, to pretend she did not just summon him. Her signature smirk on her lips as the lamia slowly turned around, her sharp eyes examinating him, standing face to face. There were only two creatures Calista considered her equals in these realms, and well, Vine was one of them. That was the most infuriating part, to her, how despite his betrayals and her constant day dreams about killing him, they would always and constantly end up side by side. Which, in a anti logical and twisted Calista way, meant she respected him.

"I have thought of your offer, Earl. The one presented to me on our last encounter in the meadows near rivers of my own blood. The atmosphere in your offices must feel terribly monotonous without a presence as delightful as mine. It is about time I explore new playgrounds, don't you believe? I'm taking the job. Take me there. Show me what you have. "

#I love love love trying anime fc for this verse #Kiss Shot is the character I based Calista on so it's SUCH a pleasure #Also I'm kinda into them #Besties :) #A sleepover with Vine and Calista be war crimes and horse riding <3 #Laughing at my own comments that's enough #셋 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀 / the immortal. #셋 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀 / interactions.

[lordreconnaissance]

Aurora

Aurora shivered in the icy air. His breath burned. The sky was silver, and the ground was patchy with frost and the delicate white flowers that thrived in the cold. He thought it best to distract himself while he walked.

"Father, why did you come to the Southern Icefields?"

It was a question Aurora had asked a million times as a hatchling, and would likely ask a million more as a teenager. He loved his father's stories. Relic sighed, feigning an exasperated air. Aurora knew it to be fake, for Father turned to him with a smile and a gleam in his eye. The wind gusted, rippling father and son's fur.

"I was hatched in the Earth flight," he began, "but I've lived in Light, Water, and Arcane. And now Ice, of course." He tossed his head towards the towering snow-dripping firs that lined the path, his breath escaping him in a puff of steam. "The Light flight was where my love of history began; they kept very meticulous records on everything newsworthy, going back for hundreds of generations. But I wasn't happy there. Arcane was my next choice..."

Relic continued while the sun set and they set up camp for the night. The scouting trip had gone as well as it could have; there was no trouble happening on the lands of the Creed of the Cube. But Aurora wasn't satisfied with this work. As he grew older, the only thing he really took interest in was his father's adventures.

Relic abruptly stopped talking midsentence. Aurora looked up from the fire. "What's wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing is wrong. I spy something in the rubble there. See it?"

Aurora did see. It was something thick and rectangular. He rose, loped over to the pile, and dug through the mess of abandoned things. It was a leather-bound tome, old and dusty.

"That's a record book," said Relic. "I don't know if you could tell, but this cave used to be a waystation for traveling dragons."

"How do you know?"

Relic stood and gestured around him. "The sconce holders on the walls. The floor made smooth by years of walking paws. The fact that it's right off the path. And of course, all the stuff left behind."

Aurora cracked open the stiff-papered book. It was penned in a language he didn't know. Relic peered over his shoulder. "That's the language of the Earth flight. I'm pretty rusty, but that line says something about the clan of the Moonchild stopping here to rest for a night. The date was...about four hundred years ago."

"What?" Aurora closed the book and stared hard at the cover. "No, that's impossible. There's no way it could have survived that long!"

Relic sat back down by the fire, snapping up a fresh fish from the basket with his teeth. "You're holding history in your paws, son. Doesn't it feel amazing?"

Aurora stared at the treasure. To be holding something that had been held by another dragon long before him was an indescribable feeling. He carefully wrapped the book in leather and stowed it away in one of his bags. Though he didn't know it yet, he'd found a new passion.

Aurora is on sale for 50kt in my lair!

#flight rising #lore #the cube

[horowitzabrams85]

Ready to make plumbing work for you? Great, time to get started! Wait, how do you do that and how do you get started? Never fear, here are some plumbing tips! This collection of advice should provide you with just the right amount of knowledge and inspiration to do your own plumbing.

Use a hairdryer to thaw frozen pipes, after you shut off the water to the house. A hairdryer will gently heat the pipe and thaw the ice without causing significant damage to the pipe. Shutting off the water first means that if the pipe is broken, there will be no rush of water into the house. Check your faucets for leaks. Check the knobs and the faucet itself. Hundreds of gallons of water a day can be wasted due to leaks and that's not good if you're paying your water bill. By stopping a leak now, you can save yourself a lot of money. Leaks can grow over time as well, so avoid a disaster and check all faucets for leaks! If your water is coming out black, then most likely you have an iron and magnesium issue to your water. You need to contact a water softener company, and get them to come out and assess your water. They will be able to fix the problem by adding a water softener. In order to keep your garbage disposal in optimal working condition, run it on a regular basis. Just a simple 60 seconds per day under cold water can keep it running clean and smooth. If not run regularly, your disposal can be susceptible to corrosion that will eventually make it inoperable. You can remove unsightly mineral buildup from your shower head by soaking it in vinegar overnight. This loosens the deposits, and in the morning you only need to wipe off the residue with a rag. If your shower head is high up an not removable, place vinegar in a plastic bag, slip the bag over the shower head and hold in place with a twist tie. Do not forget to check the temperature of the water heater in your house, especially if you are planning to leave for an extended period of time. You should keep the temperature no higher than 120 degrees, which will help to reduce energy use and prevent your system from burning out. It is important not to run water while using a garbage disposal. It is popular belief that running water will help the garbage disposal work, but this is mistaken. The moisture can actually bond the trash to your disposal, harming things further. plumber auckland wonder where the fruit flies are coming from. Each plumbing fixture has a self-sealed reserve that holds about two cups of water. If those pipes are broken or do not seal off, then odors and residue can cause fruit flies. It is recommended before anything to clean your pipes using bleach. If the flies come back, contact a professional. During the warm seasons, you will see that there will be many bird nests forming in and around your plumbing vent pipes. It is essential to clear these out, as they can have a devastating effect on the quality of your plumbing and the flow of water in your home. The most important plumbing tip you need to know is -- how to turn off your home's main water supply. Once the water is shut off, you can investigate problems and figure out how to resolve them. Walk the family through the house and show them where all the water shut-off valves are, and how to use them. While it is possible to do plumbing activities yourself, it is generally not recommended. If you are not sure of what you are doing, then you must hire a professional. This will help to insure you don't make a bigger mess of the small problem that your plumbing previously had. Now is the perfect chance to make plumbing work for you! Don't worry; it can be personally tailored for just your home. After reading these previous tips, you should have seen that techniques and equipment are numerous and that anyone can can apply them to their plumbing jobs. It just takes research and experimentation.

#ull #plumber auckland

[hancockbenson46]

Ready to make plumbing work for you? Great, time to get started! Wait, how do you do that and how do you get started? Never fear, here are some plumbing tips! This collection of advice should provide you with just the right amount of knowledge and inspiration to do your own plumbing.

Use a hairdryer to thaw frozen pipes, after you shut off the water to the house. A hairdryer will gently heat the pipe and thaw the ice without causing significant damage to the pipe. Shutting off the water first means that if the pipe is broken, there will be no rush of water into the house. Check your faucets for leaks. Check the knobs and the faucet itself. Hundreds of gallons of water a day can be wasted due to leaks and that's not good if you're paying your water bill. By stopping a leak now, you can save yourself a lot of money. Leaks can grow over time as well, so avoid a disaster and check all faucets for leaks! If your water is coming out black, then most likely you have an iron and magnesium issue to your water. You need to contact a water softener company, and get them to come out and assess your water. They will be able to fix the problem by adding a water softener. In order to keep your garbage disposal in optimal working condition, run it on a regular basis. Just a simple 60 seconds per day under cold water can keep it running clean and smooth. If not run regularly, your disposal can be susceptible to corrosion that will eventually make it inoperable. You can remove unsightly mineral buildup from your shower head by soaking it in vinegar overnight. This loosens the deposits, and in the morning you only need to wipe off the residue with a rag. If your shower head is high up an not removable, place vinegar in a plastic bag, slip the bag over the shower head and hold in place with a twist tie. Do not forget to check the temperature of the water heater in your house, especially if you are planning to leave for an extended period of time. You should keep the temperature no higher than 120 degrees, which will help to reduce energy use and prevent your system from burning out. It is important not to run water while using a garbage disposal. It is popular belief that running water will help the garbage disposal work, but this is mistaken. The moisture can actually bond the trash to your disposal, harming things further. Many people wonder where the fruit flies are coming from. Each plumbing fixture has a self-sealed reserve that holds about two cups of water. If those pipes are broken or do not seal off, then odors and residue can cause fruit flies. It is recommended before anything to clean your pipes using bleach. If the flies come back, contact a professional. During ΑΠΟΦΡΑΞΕΙΣ ΝΕΑ ΦΙΛΑΔΕΛΦΕΙΑ , you will see that there will be many bird nests forming in and around your plumbing vent pipes. ΑΠΟΦΡΑΞΕΙΣ ΓΑΛΑΤΣΙ is essential to clear these out, as they can have a devastating effect on the quality of your plumbing and the flow of water in your home. The most important plumbing tip you need to know is -- how to turn off your home's main water supply. Once the water is shut off, you can investigate problems and figure out how to resolve them. Walk the family through the house and show them where all the water shut-off valves are, and how to use them. While it is possible to do plumbing activities yourself, it is generally not recommended. If you are not sure of what you are doing, then you must hire a professional. This will help to insure you don't make a bigger mess of the small problem that your plumbing previously had. Now is the perfect chance to make plumbing work for you! Don't worry; it can be personally tailored for just your home. After reading these previous tips, you should have seen that techniques and equipment are numerous and that anyone can can apply them to their plumbing jobs. It just takes research and experimentation.

#ΑΠΟΛΥΜΑΝΣΕΙΣ ΓΑΛΑΤΣΙ

[laughs-and-crafts]

Ninjago: Generations, Chapter One, Part Two

Welcome to the second part of the first chapter of my Ninjago: Generations fanfic! I hope you enjoy!!

------

Ryn gave the room a once-over before agreeing that it was undisturbed. Neo was telling the truth. She spotted her ceremonial robes in the corner and changed, a cool breeze blowing through her slightly ajar window making her shiver as the robes fluttered lightly in the wind. 

Ryn could see the sun beginning to set, and Ryn began to put away her clothes. Despite her reputation as a oni-blooded menace, Ryn’s possessions were always kept neat and tidy. She removed her phone from the green hoodie, the small dragon charm hanging from it bouncing around. She quickly turned it on, and found no messages awaiting her, so she turned it off again. 

A light knock on the door caused Ryn to face it, sliding open the screen. “The ceremony is set to begin soon, are you ready?” Lloyd said to her, a little smile on his face. “Yeah, did Neo get you the flute?” Lloyd looked at her in surprise. “Yes, he did. I assume you saw him?” Ryn gave a slight cackle. “I scared him out of his wits, yeah, but we’re cool now anyway.” Lloyd gave her a glare, which caused her chaotic grin to vanish. “But anyway, I’m all ready, set and raring to go.” He nodded and motioned to follow him out. 

Ryn traced his footsteps as the two headed down the hall and outside. The courtyard was prepared for the ceremony, as were the monks. She spotted Neo standing in the small crowd of invited guests (of which there were very few). 

She spotted her fathers good friend Faith from another realm, and the current Prince of Shintaro, Damaius, was present, dressed quite casually for royalty. King Benthomaar of Merlopia gave her a small wave, and Ryn grinned. She had always wondered how he had kept his boyish wonder after centuries of ruling an entire kingdom. 

Ryn heard Lloyd clear his throat, and she moved into position, next to her father.

“Today we gather in this special place to honour the Elements that shape this world. Of the fire that fuels our fight, the earth that holds us steady, the lightning that brings our light, the water that brings our salvation and the ice that brings us solitude. Five hundred years ago, the elemental masters gave their powers to defeat an ancient evil. Their elemental powers were returned to the world, and there has been no trace of the elements ever since.”

Lloyd holds up a large piece of a long lost mural, where hands were painted in different colours, to represent the unity of the masters. 

“I knew them personally. These elemental masters are long since gone from the earth's memory.” Lloyd lowers his head, and Ryn moved forwards, holding a clear bowl filled with the water of prophecy. “We wish the elements another five hundred years of slumber.” 

Lloyd dipped his hands into the water, and Ryn saw the green light that momentarily filled his eyes, before vanishing. 

Then Lloyd did something unexpected. 

He took the bowl from Ryn’s hands, despite the look of confusion painted across her face. He nodded down at her hands, and Ryn lifted her hands, and gestured to the bowl.

Despite Ryn’s already apparent confusion, she was shocked to see him nod at the gesture.

Ryn lifted her hands cautiously, and placed them in the water.

A swirl of images clouded around her vision, obscuring the sight of her father with imagery of six figures draped in colourful gis, each one with a symbol at their back. A fiery inferno encased the colourful vision as fire filled everything. 

A bright green light filled the space, and Ryn could feel the power running through her blood, she felt the energy tingling at her fingertips, the sheer force of it buzzing through every fibre in her being-

And then it was gone.

Ryn gasped as she tripped backwards, managing to catch her balance as she looked up at her father. An unusual look was in his eyes, similar to pity, but deeper, sadder.

She shook it off as she stood side by side with him as he struck the ancient gong, completing the ceremony, and the small afterparty beginning. “What was that?” She whispered to Lloyd, who replied. “Something that I should have realised a long time ago.” She was even more confused as he walked off towards King Benthomaar. 

“Hello again.” A monotonous but lightly toned voice said from behind her, and she was met with the blue eyes of Neo. “Oh. Hey.” Ryn said, somewhat distantly, and she cleared her throat. Neo looked at her curiously. “What did you see up there?” Ryn looked at him in alarm, until she saw the innocently curious expression on his face. “I saw light and dark forces.”

Neo nodded once, and his gaze shifted over to the bowl with the prophetic water within it. 

Based on that simple movement, Ryn knew he was thinking about what he could see with the water.

Ryn could agree with him. She was wondering the exact same thing.

------

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42980961/chapters/107990343

Please be on the lookout for Chapter Two! Will be out soon!

#ninjagogenerations #ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #laughsandcrafts

[apackofsmokes-blog1]

Military experience story

847 words

                       Two events in my military career that left me with stark, polarizing, emotional, feelings…

THE COLD WAR

I was one of the lucky American soldiers to be stationed in Germany when the Berlin Wall fell, but what I want to share about that event was how the wall came down from the start of a trickle, like ice melting in the mountains, a drop of water rolling down picking up volume and speed, so much so that when it reaches the valley below, it becomes a force that can transform the landscape.

 I arrived in Europe (West Germany to be exact) I was there witnessing the whispered unrest coming out of East Berlin, particularly, and Eastern Europe in general. I witnessed with pride (and I say pride, because I was an American, a product of liberty, justice and apple pie. And East Berliner’s were a product of fear, darkness, and the Bogyman) l watched as, one by one, East German leaders resigned, ending with one named Egon Krenz, who spewed promises to be a different leader then those that preceded him.  He promised to relax the decades of restriction, and everyone should calm down and within time, he would bring fought the wanted social adjustments. Now, as you can guess the populace was not going to wait, the proverbial genie was out of the shattered bottle, and Pandora's box was smashed open. There was no turning back.

One of the East Berlin protesters ran for the wall, the guards, who were always trained to shoot, hesitated as the protester climbed the wall and was greeted with a tremendous cheer as he was assisted over the war by West Berliners who had gathered by the thousands at Checkpoint Charley on the West Berlin side of the wall. Another East Berliner ran to the wall, and climbed over with the same results, now fearless, ten charged the wall, then fifty, then hundreds of East Berliners began charging the wall, and climbed over.

The East Berlin guards sensing that they were in the path of a tsunamic historical event, did not want to find themselves on the wrong side of history. They lowered their weapons and stepped aside, most, disappearing into the human tide that swept toward the western shores. Thousands on the west side lent aid to the fleeing easterners by lowering ropes, some produced hammers and started chipping away at the wall, thousand aped this action, and soon gaps, then holes, then huge spillways started appearing as sections of the wall collapsed.

East Berliners flooded into the west through these openings, I watched transfixed, heart-pounding, tears flowing, as long-separated people were once again united. The pride threatened to explode in my chest as I realized that I was part of the mechanism that united these people, that I was an American soldier stationed in Germany, and that I helped bring this iconic change in human history...

  

I REMEMBER

 

 

I remember that beautiful day with a wisp of white in the blue sky and the promise of joy and happiness in which it held. I remember the viewing stand, people laughing and smiling, awaiting the start of the air show. I remember watching the sky as the various planes flew by. I remember a father holding his toddler, who gleefully stretched his arm as if to grab the aircraft from the sky. I remember the toddler's expression change from that of wonderment to bewilderment, as his father's expression changed to horror, I remember not quite understanding what I was seeing as the three planes collided, and debris started raining on the stands. I remember thinking this a joke, sleight of hand, illusion, but feeling the truth. I remember the screams as flaming parts of planes crashed into the the stands. I remember hearing each individual word that was shouted out by hundreds of people as well as the tortured scream of the burning twisted metal. I remember the smell of the fuel, the smell of the burning masses, and the smell of fear.  I remember glancing at the blue sky and noting how it was still so beautiful with its wisp of white. I remember feeling like a coward for not caring about anyone else. I remember running, I remember running very hard, very fast. I remember stopping only when I was overtaken by exhaustion, I remember walking miles till I returned to the base in Kaiserslautern. I remember going straight to my room in the barracks, collapsing onto the floor and crying.  I remember cursing the memory of that damn blue sky with its wisp of white for leading me to believe in a false wonderment to come.

I remember…

 The rest of this story goes as follows, since we were the transportation battalion, we had reefers (refrigerated trucks) which we provided as temporary morgues, and volunteers to walk the crash site looking for personal belongings and organic residue, we were giving little flags to place at a spot where we found something, I remember this everyday… 

 

FLUGTAG 88

28 August 1988, 

3:44 pm

70 dead

500 injured

[zeal-ascendancy]

Marle immediately aimed her crossbow at the Mystic posing at her father. The false chancellor stepped out from behind and exclaimed, “Princess Nadia! Get away from those imposters and come over here to your father.”

“That thing isn’t my father!” Marle shouted. “You Mystics can leave now and get lost or my friends and I can make you.”

“Nadia, my dear…” the false king soothed.

“If you’re really my father, you’d remember the last thing I said before I ran away before,” Marle snapped. Met with no answer, she continued, “Besides… we overheard your plotting earlier, Yakra.”

The false king chuckled. He shook his head and said, “Is that so? Then you know I won’t let you leave this castle alive. I and everyone here will have our revenge on your pathetic family for what you did four hundred years ago.”

Everyone watched as Yakra transformed back into his true form. Just like his ancestor, he was a massive insectoid beast with long ram-like horns, beady eyes and sharp fangs. With no reason to maintain their own disguises, the fake chancellor and guards also transformed back.

Yakra glanced at the gargoyle that had been the chancellor. “Take care of the king, Cephas. I’ll take care of the princess and her friend.”

“Stay back, father,” Marle said as she and Crono stepped forward confront Yakra.

Crono attempted to knock Cephas out of the sky with lightning as Marle summoned ice to freeze the charging Mystics. Yakra stood back while his minions charged forth, partly so Crono and Marle would wear themselves out and partly out of the shock that two humans were using magic. He had thought it a tall tale told through the generations from the war.

Glenn hurried to the front of the group to join Crono and Marle. Looking up, Glenn saw the gargoyle Cephas diving down towards King Guardia.

“Sorry!” Glenn shouted as he grabbed King Guardia and pushed him back into the crowd of freed guards. Moving to put himself in front of the king, Glenn was grateful for Doreen as the shield burst forth from the bracer as the Mystic brought his claws down on him.

“Fancy shield there,” Cephas smirked. “Not that it or your fancy sword are going to stop us.”

Cephas swung a clawed hand to strike Glenn. Glenn responded by parrying the strike with the Masamune, slicing the blade deep across the gargoyle’s palm. As Cephas reared back in shock and pain at being cut by the blade, Glenn summoned a small beam of water and blasted him off the bridge.

“The Guardia royal family shouldn’t be the target of your vengeance, Yakra!” Glenn called out. “I’m the one who killed your ancestor!”

Yakra looked at Glenn from across the bridge. It was said that a green-haired human in leather armor had slain his ancestor. It was then that he noticed that Glenn was wielding a gleaming sword… It looked like the legendary Masamune. How was it possible for the slayer of General Slash and his ancestor to be standing before him?

Meanwhile, Crono and Marle were holding their own against the serpentine Mystics and Gargoyles that tried to fight them. Such opponents had been hard to fight when they started their quest but now they both defeated them with ease.

As the last of his followers fell to Crono’s blade, Yakra realized he would have to fight himself. He quickly launched a volley of spikes and charged at Crono and Marle.

Seeing Yakra charging at Crono and Marle, Glenn hurried over and held up his shield to block the spikes. The three of them managed to dodge Yakra who came to a stop and turned to face them as King Guardia and the guards had retreated to the dungeon entrance.

“I won’t monologue like some storybook villain but don’t act like you aren’t without sins yourselves,” Yakra hissed.

“The war ended four hundred years ago,” Glenn remarked. “This king and the princess have done you no harm.”

“Like you’d let me walk away without consequences,” Yakra snapped. “This can only end in your deaths or mine…”

Launching another volley of spikes, Yakra charged again and forced the trio to dodge his claws. If he could wear them out, he’d be able to kill them and then the king. If he died by their hands then his death would serve as a force to prove that humans were indeed cruel and heartless to Mystics.

As Yakra turned to charge again, Glenn adjusted his grip on the Masamune and said, “We can’t wait for the others.”

Crono nodded. “Marle, let’s try that trick where you put ice on my sword. Glenn try to go at him from the side while he’s distracted by us.”

Before Glenn could agree to the plan or not, Crono charged forward as Marle summoned a beam of icy air that coated Crono’s katana in shards of ice. Yakra charged at them, leaving Glenn no choice but to follow along with Crono’s plan.

Yakra reared up to strike Crono as Crono leapt up, his blade covered in ice. Just as Yakra was about to hit Crono, he felt a great pain along his back as Glenn slashed him with the Masamune. Distracted by Glenn’s attack, Yakra failed to dodge Crono as his blade slashed deep across his chest, filling the would with shards of ice. Yakra stumbled back and managed to steady himself instead of falling backwards.

Ignoring the pain as the ice cut his wounds even more, Yakra moved to bite at Crono. However, he suddenly found himself frozen to the bridge. Yakra looked to Crono and Marle as they were running back to the far end of the bridge.

“Glenn, get back!” Crono shouted. Seeing Glenn retreat back towards the king, Crono turned his attention back to Yakra. For a brief moment, Crono couldn’t help but recall how scared he had been when he had fought this guy’s ancestor, back when he had no idea how to fight or use magic. He traced the large glowing runes within a circle in the air before uttering the incantation for the strongest light spell he had.

The glowing dome of brilliant light formed over Yakra. A second point of light appeared in the middle of the dome and beams of white energy shot out in all directions within the dome, striking the Yakra and scorching his flesh.

The beams of light faded and the dome vanished like a popping soap bubble. Somehow, Yakra was still alive although barely. He laughed weakly as he bled out on the bridge, surrounded by his fallen followers. How could these humans have known magic and bested him? Is this how they won the war? As the life faded from him, Yakra took solace that there were others like him who would keep fighting for the Mystic’s future and that his death would fuel that fire for years to come.