#It's like a Shrew Grew wings

[loveisinthebat]

Absolutely Skrungled

#African Sheath-Tailed bat #Bats of Africa #Bat of the day #daily bat #bat #bats #batposting #I mean like #Look at this thing #I love it but #Wtf Man #alskjdgkj I can't #It's like a Shrew Grew wings

[alwachart]

Cora, the shadow of Cormyr

Everyone has such nice OCs to ship with Raphael, obviously I had to board ship too. This is the PT where I'll finally give him the crown. Happy devil = happy me.

So without further ado...

Name: Corali at birth (elven for legendary shadow), just Cora now

Necromancer, half-hag wood elf, 5'3", +43yrs old

Traits: Self-sufficient, ambitious, sultry, cultured, cynical

Goals: avoid transforming into an ugly hag, become immortal (and find love, but she doesn't know that yet kkkk)

She has dealt with Raphael before the events of BG3, little backstory under the cut ↓↓↓

In the middle of the night, barely a few hours alive, a half-wood elf baby was unceremoniously abandoned at the stairs of a temple. She was given the name Corali by the clerics who found her, for she came in the shadows, in hopes that a strong name would guide her through the hard life ahead of her…Corali grew up in an orphanage of Baldur's Gate smaller than her peers and with a sickly green pallor, she was bullied and often spent her time alone in their small library with only dusty, mould-ridden books as friends. Her unkind nature didn't do any good to her either, she revelled in other kids' suffering and even adults were wary around her. On her 13th birthday her bleak existence changed forever, her insidious nature manifested giving her the ability to become invisible. Corali was half-hag, a green hag to be exact.

Wandering the streets of Baldur's Gate a powerful dark magic led her to the place that would be her home for the next 30 years, the mansion of Carrion the Mystic. Intrigued by her fey nature, he took her under his wing and taught her to master her magic along with his forbidden knowledge of necromancy. In exchange for this kindness

She acted as his eyes, ears and voice outside the quaint fortress, dealing with mortals in his place. Tired of being at his beck and call, once she'd learnt everything she could from her master and his books Corali looked for a way out of her imposed slavery, dreading she would be forever doing his bidding, even after death, brought back like so many others. Her research landed her on a dead end when to acquire the necessary ingredient for the potion that would turn her untraceable by Carrion, she needed the help of a fiend.

Corali prepared the ritual, she intended to summon a lesser fiend, but at the time Gale was messing with the weave for Mystra and the spell backfired, bringing Raphael to this plane instead, in Cambion form.

Needless to say, he was less than pleased to be pulled from his house of hope into the middle of nowhere, and for a mortal who refused to deal with him the moment she laid eyes on his figure. The shrew clung to her soul, a challenge he would relish winning like so many others before her. But the half-fey surprised him, offering the souls of others, plural, in exchange for his help. Of course, Raphael accepted, amused by the ruthlessness of the woman.

Corali stole the souls of Mystic Carrion's sentient servants and delivered them to the Cambion, adding her final ingredient to her potion and turning invisible with her fey powers opposite the devil, getting the hell out of Baldur's Gate as Raphael chuckled darkly behind her. He was intrigued.

The witch took residence in Suzail (Cormyr) going by the name Cora. A bit on the nose, but she was a shadow, no one would know who she was. Their paths crossed many times, Raphael and Cora always had a few words or a knowing glance for each other as they went about their business in the city.

Eventually, dirty deeds caught up with her and Cora's worst nightmare began to come true: giving in to evil was turning her into a hag. She had tried to live a life of neutrality and lawfulness, not out of the goodness of her heart but out of fear; fear of becoming an ugly crone as, she imagined, her biological mother was. In a desperate attempt to prevent this horrible fate, Cora returned to this corner of Faerûn looking for a certain hag's help...and that's how she ended up abducted by illithids in the nautiloid.

Interesting facts about green hags that have me crazy in love with this idea:

Cora is the embodiment of I can't fix him, but I can make him worse lol lol lol

Srsly I'm in love with my own idea, what has bg3 done to me, I have not created OCs in like 10 years.

Thanks for reading if you've made it this far, here's her face up close

#bg3 player character #raphael x tav #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 tav #bg3 romance #bg3 roleplay #bg3 original character #necromancer #i dont even know #the brainrot is real #bg3 shipping #my ocs #my art #tav bg3 #bg3 tav #my tav #my Tav: Cora #bg3 oc #baldurs gate tav #tav oc #raphael romance #deadDevil

[littlelodell]

Tag Game!!

ˏˋ°*♡➷ get to know me ༊*·˚

Thank you @happy-mokka for the tag!!

rule: name your favorite movie, character, animal, drink, song, season, book, color and hobby

This is going to be tough because I am highly suggestible & I will bury my favorites for years and then suddenly remember them.

MOVIE(S) It's a tie, and an impossible task because I can name about fifty films whose images float around in my imagination. I grew watching a lot, A LOT, of Westerns, British WWII films and movie musicals, and classic films of the 1940's...but here are two later era movies that I come back to, and influence me as a creative person. Honorable mention to Hayao Miyazaki's entire oeuvre.

The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover, 1989

dir. Peter Greenaway. Michael Nyman score.

with Helen Mirren, Michael Gambon (RIP), Richard Bohringer & Alan Howard. (and Tim Roth and Alex Kingston!)

Terrifying, horrifying, darkly funny and stunningly gorgeous. It's extremely violent in a very specific way to Greenaway, which I have a harder time with now, but it's still worth watching, if only for the scenes between Mirren and Howard, which are virtually silent. Breathtaking.

Der Himmel über Berlin (Wings of Desire) 1987 dir. Wim Wenders

This movie has EVERYTHING. Angels in dark coats, a library, Nick Cave, poetry, pre-fall of The Wall Berlin, trapeze artistry, moody smoking, Peter Falk as himself, did I mention angels? The final line gets me every time; "Ich weiss jetzt was kein Engel weiss." (excuse my German spelling.) "I know what no angel knows." In other words, love.

Character. In my current obsession? Our dear demon, Crowley. He chooses himself, but is honest enough to know he loves someone else. Silly, moody, been to actual hell and back. What's not to love? Plus us redheads have to stick together.

And of course, Kate ~ Taming of the Shrew. The OG bitch you hate to love. Runner up, Ariel from The Tempest. Gotta love a spirit that manages to be both mischievous and compassionate.

ANIMAL: Grey wolf. Canis Lupus. Their reintroduction to the wild is a very, very small pinpoint of hope for our ailing world.

Drink: Coffee. No contest. Black. Unlike Daffy here, I prefer mine iced.

Song: Currently listening to Yebba's "October Sky" on heavy rotation. She's truly gifted.

But, how could I choose just one song? I listen to jazz, 90's RandB, country, West Coast rap, deep 80's cuts, current pop, always Bowie, Prince, Kate Bush, and classical vocal rep.

"Will There Really Be a Morning?" Ricky Ian Gordon comp., set to The Belle of Amherst's poetry - a perfect song.

Season: Winter. But that's because I have to travel to get to a real winter. I love to (visit) the snow. I know, I romanticize it. I grew up in a place with brutal winters but all I remember is the Nordic skiing and playing hockey in figure skates and hot cocoa. Let me have my idyll.

Books, three, in no order, all non-fiction, or I will get too far down a rabbit-hole:

The Hakawati by Rabih Alemeddine

Sexing the Cherry by Jeanette Winterson

My Antonia by Willa Cather (my actual favorite)

Each of these authors have other, equally compelling titles, and you should read them.

Color: Shades of Blue.

Hobby: Reading, traveling, taking pictures, starting yet another language to study.

Possibly cooking, but I used to do it for a living, so it always feels like a dance with an old friend, not a hobby.

I'll tag @reloha and @risingphoenix761 but don't feel obligated at all. If I did this again tomorrow, I would have completely different answers.

#tag game #get to know me #Youtube

[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday the super sexy Scottish actress  Michelle Gomez.

Michelle was born as Michelle May Romney Marsham Antonia Gomez in Ayr in 1966, and grew up in Glasgow. Her dad is of Portuguese descent and is from  Montserrat, her mum ran a model agency’ She is one of four children; two older brothers, one of whom is called Derek, and a twin brother who died in.2004.

When she was seven, her parents took her to see Cole Porter’s musical take on the Shrew, Kiss Me, Kate at the Theatre Royal in Glasgow and she was mesmerised by the character Kate, she described it as

“ I was electrified and, of course, I thought they were talking to me. Even then I had an ego running riot. And I loved Kate’s energy, her fieriness. Even at that age, I identified; I thought: ‘Yup, I’m one of her, she’s one of me.”

Michelle attended Shawlands Academy and the junior section of The Scottish Academy of Music and Dance from the age of twelve before going to the adult Academy.

Her first major role was in Irvine Welsh's  Acid House , that’s my pal Gary McCormack with her in the first pic, she went on to make small screen appearances in The Bill and Taggart (two different roles in each) before the very funny and underrated Book Club on channel Four.

Other TV appearances have been in Rebus, Murder in Suburbia and Carrie & Barry before her big break as staff liaison officer Sue White in the Channel 4 comedy Green Wing.

For me Michelle’s best work has been as “Missy” in Dr Who, where she regularly steals scenes. Before the first female Doctor, she was the first female “Master”, one of the Doctors recurring arch enemies.

As well as her roles on this side of the Atlantic Michelle has appeared in Highlander: The Raven the American supernatural television series Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, featuring in all 36 episodes, the show got rave reviews but I have not watched it myself, not being a fan of the supernatural horror genre. It was cancelled in July 2020 due to the covid pandemic, I wouldn’t write off it being picked up again in the future, some sources are erroneously saying a series 5 is due soon. 

Michelle has been on our screens in The Flight Attendant, series based on the 2018 novel of the same name, it’s on HBO Max in the States, I must admit I’ve not got round to watching it as yet, the show was originally meant to be a mini-series, but a second series was commissioned and it was shown in April this year. It’s not known whether there will be a third series as yet.

Fans of Michelle and the Superhero genre will be pleased that they return to HBO Max in December.

No doubt we will also see her return to Dr Who someday, I certainly hope so. Gomez has been married to actor Jack Davenport since 1st May 2000 they have a son together. Of him she said 

“Jack wasn't my type at all. I thought he was too young and too posh and I told him that. Plus, I couldn't deal with his dodgy bowl-cut. But he wore me down”

Of herself Michelle is very modest one saying 

“Lots of actresses disappear by the time they're my age. So far, I've bucked the trend. I haven't got sucked into that 26-episode run of something like Casualty. Thankfully, my face has stopped that happening. It's not something you want to see every week on TV! I'm theatrical saffron in that way - just a light sprinkling of me here and there...”

Of her ambitions Michelle says it is to play Mama Rose in Gypsy on stage on Broadway. 

“That would be checking every box in my career if I got to play that. That is my biggest ambition! Oh my, I would ROCK THAT! I need to learn how to sing first, but that is just a technicality.”

Happy Birthday Michelle and good luck with getting on stage in Gypsy.

#Scotland #scottish #actress #television

[lordofthecoffee]

When I was six or seven, I was in town shopping with my father. The store had a Christmas tree with ornaments for sale, and I spotted something laying at the base of it. Her harp was broken in half. She only had one foot. At some point someone had tried to hot-glue her wings back on, but now they lay next to her, detached but whole.

Dad sighed as I stooped to scoop the fallen angel up, cradling her carefully in my hands. He knew the look- reverential and stubborn. It meant a project. It meant trouble. "Girl, they're gonna think you broke that" he muttered, stalking off ahead of me. It sounded like: Don't get your hopes up... about the scabby runt of a kitten I made my own, or Don't come crying to me when... about the shrew I rescued from the claws of the barn cats. I knew it really meant Do what you're gonna do. After all, the kitten grew up long-haired and beautiful. The shrew lived.

Even broken, this angel ornament was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen. I had a small allowance, and most importantly: I had my very own Christmas tree in my room that year. I chopped it down myself. My mom gave me the cast-offs and unbreakable decorations to hang it with: sturdy wooden ornaments, plastic baubles, and styrofoam apples. But this was a grown up ornament, that wouldn't weather drops and childish handling. This was something to wrap tenderly in tissue paper and store on a shelf in its own specifically dedicated little box.

I waited my turn in line, and laid her up on the counter. "How much for this angel, please? I found her on the floor."

"Damn thing fall off the tree again? It wouldn't stay on if you glued it there" the clerk grumbled. "Honey, you don't want that one. She's broke six ways from Sunday. Go find yourself a nice one, with a tag."

I'd been born two months premature, so little they told my parents not to name me. I slept in a shoebox rested in the crib that was too big for me.

When I was five, the cat had kittens up in my playhouse loft. Took me both bones of my lower leg snapped clean in two to learn that sometimes it's better not to stick your landing.

"Thanks, but I want this one, please."

He looked at me. I looked at him. Then, he smiled.

"Tell you what, she's all yours. You can have her no charge. Merry Christmas, young lady."

And she's been on my Christmas tree every year since.

#not religious have no thing for angels unless it's like the crazy looking be not afraid ones #but i still think she's pretty #christmas #bauble tour #ornaments

[foodandfolklore]

The Magic Egg

This Ukrainian Folktale focuses very little on the Titled Egg. However, it has themes and Symbolism I found relevant to Eggs in Witchcraft. New Beginnings, Transformation, Protection, Sense of Wholeness/Completion. I also found it interesting how almost every animal that appeared and was not to be eaten was an egg laying animal. Exception being the mouse at the beginning. This may of been an accident, but I still found it interesting. Eggs are highly Versatile in both Kitchen and Witchcraft. They've been a staple in both for a long time all over the world.

There was once upon a time a lark who was the Tsar among the birds, and he took unto himself as his Tsaritsa a little shrew-mouse. They had a field all to themselves, which they sowed with wheat, and when the wheat grew up they divided it between them, when they found that there was one grain over! The mouse said, “Let me have it!” But the lark said, “No, let me have it!”––“What’s to be done?” thought they. They would have liked to take counsel of some one, but they had no parents or kinsmen, nobody at all to whom they could go and ask advice in the matter. At last the mouse said, “At any rate, let me have the first nibble!” The lark Tsar agreed to this; but the little mouse fastened her teeth in it and ran off into her hole with it, and there ate it all up. At this the Tsar lark was wrath, and collected all the birds of the air to make war upon the mouse Tsaritsa; but the Tsaritsa called together all the beasts to defend her, and so the war began. Whenever the beasts came rushing out of the wood to tear the birds to pieces, the birds flew up into the trees; but the birds kept in the air, and hacked and pecked the beasts wherever they could. Thus they fought the whole day, and in the evening they lay down to rest. Now when the Tsaritsa looked around upon her forces, she saw that the ant was taking no part in the war. She immediately went and commanded the ant to be there by evening, and when the ant came, the Tsaritsa ordered her to climb up the trees with her kinsmen and bite off the feathers round the birds’ wings.

Next day, when there was light enough to see by, the mouse Tsaritsa cried, “Up, up, my warriors!” Thereupon the birds also rose up, and immediately fell to the ground, where the beasts tore them to bits. So the Tsaritsa overcame the Tsar. But there was one eagle who saw there was something wrong, so he did not try to fly, but remained sitting on the tree. And lo! there came an archer along that way, and seeing the eagle on the tree, he took aim at it; but the eagle besought him and said, “Do not kill me, and I’ll be of great service to thee!” The archer aimed a second time, but the eagle besought him still more and said, “Take me down rather and keep me, and thou shalt see that it will be to thy advantage.” The archer, however, took aim a third time, but the eagle began to beg of him most piteously, “Nay, kill me not, but take me home with thee, and thou shalt see what great advantage it will be to thee!” The archer believed the bird. He climbed up the tree, took the eagle down, and carried it home. Then the eagle said to him, “Put me in a hut, and feed me with flesh till my wings have grown again.”

Now this archer had two cows and a steer, and he at once killed and cut up one of the cows for the eagle. The eagle fed upon this cow for a full year, and then he said to the archer, “Let me go, that I may fly. I see that my wings have already grown again!” Then the archer let him loose from the hut. The eagle flew round and round, he flew about for half a day, and then he returned to the archer and said, “I feel I have but little strength in me, slay me another cow!” And the archer obeyed him, and slew the second cow, and the eagle lived upon that for yet another year. Again the eagle flew round and round in the air. He flew round and about the whole day till evening, when he returned to the archer and said, “I am stronger than I was, but I have still but little strength in me, slay me the steer also!” Then the man thought to himself, “What shall I do? Shall I slay it, or shall I not slay it?” At last he said, “Well! I’ve sacrificed more than this before, so let this go too!” and he took the steer and slaughtered it for the eagle. Then the eagle lived upon this for another whole year longer, and after that he took to flight, and flew high up right to the very clouds. Then he flew down again to the man and said to him, “I thank thee, brother, for that thou hast been the saving of me! Come now and sit upon me!”––“Nay, but,” said the man, “what if some evil befall me?”––“Sit on me, I say!” cried the eagle. So the archer sat down upon the bird.

Then the eagle bore him nearly as high as the big clouds, and then let him fall. Down plumped the man; but the eagle did not let him fall to the earth, but swiftly flew beneath him and upheld him, and said to him, “How dost thou feel now?”––“I feel,” said the man, “as if I had no life in me.”––Then the eagle replied, “That was just how I felt when thou didst aim at me the first time.” Then he said to him, “Sit on my back again!” The man did not want to sit on him, but what could he do? Sit he must. Then the eagle flew with him quite as high as the big clouds, and shook him off, and down he fell headlong till he was about two fathoms from the ground, when the bird again flew beneath him and held him up. Again the eagle asked him, “How dost thou feel?” And the man replied, “I feel just as if all my bones were already broken to bits!”––“That is just how I felt when thou didst take aim at me the second time,” replied the eagle. “But now sit on my back once more.” The man did so, and the eagle flew with him as high as the small fleecy clouds, and then he shook him off, and down he fell headlong; but when he was but a hand’s-breadth from the earth, the eagle again flew beneath him and held him up, and said to him, “How dost thou feel now?” And he replied, “I feel as if I no longer belonged to this world!”––“That is just how I felt when thou didst aim at me the third time,” replied the eagle. “But now,” continued the bird, “thou art guilty no more. We are quits. I owe thee naught, and thou owest naught to me; so sit on my back again, and I’ll take thee to my master.”

They flew on and on, they flew till they came to the eagle’s uncle. And the eagle said to the archer, “Go to my house, and when they ask thee, ‘Hast thou not seen our poor child?’ reply, ‘Give me the magic egg, and I’ll bring him before your eyes!’” So he went to the house, and there they said to him, “Hast thou heard of our poor child with thine ears, or seen him with thine eyes, and hast thou come hither willingly or unwillingly?”––And he answered, “I have come hither willingly!”––Then they asked, “Hast thou smelt out anything of our poor youngster? for it is three years now since he went to the wars, and there’s neither sight nor sound of him more!”––And he answered, “Give me the magic egg, and I’ll bring him straightway before your eyes!”––Then they replied, “’Twere better we never saw him than that we should give thee the magic egg!”––Then he went back to the eagle and said to him, “They said, ‘’Twere better we never saw him than that we should give thee the magic egg.’”––Then the eagle answered, “Let us fly on farther!”

They flew on and on till they came to the eagle’s brother, and the archer said just the same to him as he had said to the eagle’s uncle, and still he didn’t get the egg. Then they flew to the eagle’s father, and the eagle said to him, “Go up to the hut, and if they ask for me, say that thou hast seen me and will bring me before their eyes.”––So he went up to the hut, and they said to him, “O Tsarevich, we hear thee with our ears and see thee with our eyes, but hast thou come hither of thine own free will or by the will of another?”––And the archer answered, “I have come hither of my own free will!”––Then they asked him, “Hast thou seen our son? Lo, these four years we have not had news of him. He went off to the wars, and perchance he has been slain there.”––And he answered them, “I have seen him, and if you will give me the magic egg, I will bring him before your eyes.”––And the eagle’s father said to him, “What good will such a thing do thee? We had better give thee the lucky penny!”––But he answered, “I don’t want the lucky penny, give me the magic egg!”––“Come hither then,” said he, “and thou shalt have it.” So he went into the hut. Then the eagle’s father rejoiced and gave him the egg, and said to him, “Take heed thou dost not break it anywhere on the road, and when thou gettest home, hedge it round and build a strong fence about it, and it will do thee good.”

So he went homeward. He went on and on till a great thirst came upon him. So he stopped at the first spring he came to, and as he stooped to drink he stumbled and the magic egg was broken. Then he perceived that an ox had come out of the egg and was rolling away. He gave chase to the ox, but whenever he was getting close to one side of it, the other side of it got farther away from him. Then the poor fellow cried, “I shall do nothing with it myself, I see.”––At that moment an old she-dragon came up to him and said, “What wilt thou give me, O man, if I chase this ox back again into the egg for thee?”––And the archer replied, “What can I give?”––The dragon said to him, “Give me what thou hast at home without thy will and wit!”––“Done!” said the archer. Then the dragon chased the ox nicely into the egg again, patched it up prettily and gave it into the man’s hand. Then the archer went home, and when he got home he found a son had been born to him there, and his son said to him, “Why didst thou give me to the old she-dragon, dad? But never mind, I’ll manage to live in spite of her.” Then the father was very grieved for a time, but what could he do? Now the name of this son was Ivan.

So Ivan lost no time in going to the dragon, and the dragon said to him, “Go to my house and do me three tasks, and if thou dost them not, I’ll devour thee.” Now, round the dragon’s house was a large meadow as far as the eye could reach. And the dragon said to him, “Thou must in a single night weed out this field and sow wheat in it, and reap the wheat and store it, all in this very night; and thou must bake me a roll out of this self-same wheat, and the roll must be lying ready for me on my table in the morning.”

Then Ivan went and leaned over the fence, and his heart within him was sore troubled. Now near to him there was a post, and on this post was the dragon’s starveling daughter. So when he came thither and fell a-weeping, she asked him, “Wherefore dost thou weep?”––And he said, “How can I help weeping? The dragon has bidden me do something I can never, never do; and what is more, she has bidden me do it in a single night.”––“What is it, pray?” asked the dragon’s daughter. Then he told her. “Not every bush bears a berry!” cried she. “Promise to take me to wife, and I’ll do all she has bidden thee do.” He promised, and then she said to him again, “Now go and lie down, but see that thou art up early in the morning to bring her her roll.” Then she went to the field, and before one could whistle she had cleaned it of weeds and harrowed it and sown it with wheat, and by dawn she had reaped the wheat and cooked the roll and brought it to him, and said, “Now, take it to her hut and put it on her table.”

Then the old she-dragon awoke and came to the door, and was amazed at the sight of the field, which was now all stubble, for the corn had been cut. Then she said to Ivan, “Yes, thou hast done the work well. But now, see that thou doest my second task.” Then she gave him her second command. “Dig up that mountain yonder and let the Dnieper flow over the site of it, and there build a store-house, and in the store-house stack the wheat that thou hast reaped, and sell this wheat to the merchant barques that sail by, and everything must be done by the time I get up early next morning!” Then he again went to the fence and wept, and the maiden said to him, “Why dost thou weep?” and he told her all that the she-dragon had bidden him do. “There are lots of bushes, but where are the berries? Go and lie down, and I’ll do it all for thee.” Then she whistled, and the mountain was levelled and the Dnieper flowed over the site of it, and round about the Dnieper store-houses rose up, and then she came and woke him that he might go and sell the wheat to the merchant barques that sailed by that way, and when the she-dragon rose up early in the morning she was amazed to see that everything had been done which she had commanded him.

Then she gave him her third command. “This night thou must catch the golden hare, and bring it to me by the morning light.” Again he went to the fence and fell a-weeping. And the girl asked him, “Why art thou weeping?”––He said to her, “She has ordered me to catch her the golden hare.”––“Oh, oh!” cried the she-dragon’s daughter, “the berries are ripening now; only her father knows how to catch such a hare as that. Nevertheless, I’ll go to a rocky place I know of, and there perchance we shall be able to catch it.” So they went to this rocky place together, and she said to him, “Stand over that hole. I’ll go in and chase him out of the hole, and do thou catch him as he comes out; but mind, whatever comes out of the hole, seize it, for it will be the golden hare.”

So she went and began beating up, and all at once out came a snake and hissed, and he let it go. Then she came out of the hole and said to him, “What! has nothing come out?”––“Well,” said he, “only a snake, and I was afraid it would bite me, so I let it go.”––“What hast thou done?” said she; “that was the very hare itself. Look now!” said she, “I’ll go in again, and if any one comes out and tells you that the golden hare is not here, don’t believe it, but hold him fast.” So she crept into the hole again and began to beat for game, and out came an old woman, who said to the youth, “What art thou poking about there for?”––And he said to her, “For the golden hare.”––She said to him, “It is not here, for this is a snake’s hole,” and when she had said this she went away. Presently the girl also came out and said to him, “What! hast thou not got the hare? Did nothing come out then?”––“No,” said he, “nothing but an old woman who asked me what I was seeking, and I told her the golden hare, and she said, ‘It is not here,’ so I let her go.”––Then the girl replied, “Why didst thou not lay hold of her? for she was the very golden hare itself, and now thou never wilt catch it unless I turn myself into a hare and thou take and lay me on the table, and give me into my mother’s, the she-dragon’s hands, and go away, for if she find out all about it she will tear the pair of us to pieces.”

So she changed herself into a hare, and he took and laid her on the table, and said to the she-dragon, “There’s thy hare for thee, and now let me go away!” She said to him, “Very well––be off!” Then he set off running, and he ran and ran as hard as he could. Soon after, the old she-dragon discovered that it was not the golden hare, but her own daughter, so she set about chasing after them to destroy them both, for the daughter had made haste in the meantime to join Ivan. But as the she-dragon couldn’t run herself, she sent her husband, and he began chasing them, and they knew he was coming, for they felt the earth trembling beneath his tread. Then the she-dragon’s daughter said to Ivan, “I hear him running after us. I’ll turn myself into standing wheat and thee into an old man guarding me, and if he ask thee, ‘Hast thou seen a lad and a lass pass by this way?’ say to him, ‘Yes, they passed by this way while I was sowing this wheat!’”

A little while afterward the she-dragon’s husband came flying up. “Have a lad and a lass passed by this way?” said he. “Yes,” replied the old man, “they have.”––“Was it long ago?” asked the she-dragon’s husband.––“It was while this wheat was being sown,” replied the old man.––“Oh!” thought the dragon, “this wheat is ready for the sickle, they couldn’t have been this way yesterday,” so he turned back. Then the she-dragon’s daughter turned herself back into a maiden and the old man into a youth, and off they set again. But the dragon returned home, and the she-dragon asked him, “What! hast thou not caught them or met them on the road?”––“Met them, no!” said he. “I did, indeed, pass on the road some standing wheat and an old man watching it, and I asked the old man if he had seen a lad and a lass pass by that way, and he said, ‘Yes, while this wheat was being sown,’ but the wheat was quite ripe for the sickle, so I knew it was a long while ago and turned back.”––“Why didst thou not tear that old man and the wheat to pieces?” cried the she-dragon; “it was they! Be off after them again, and mind, this time tear them to pieces without fail.”

So the dragon set off after them again, and they heard him coming from afar, for the earth trembled beneath him, so the damsel said to Ivan, “He’s coming again, I hear him; now I’ll change myself into a monastery, so old that it will be almost falling to pieces, and I’ll change thee into an old black monk at the gate, and when he comes up and asks, ‘Hast thou seen a lad and a lass pass this way?’ say to him, ‘Yes, they passed by this way when this monastery was being built.’” Soon afterward the dragon came flying past, and asked the monk, “Hast thou seen a lad and a lass pass by this way?”––“Yes,” he replied, “I saw them what time the holy fathers began to build this monastery.” The dragon thought to himself, “That was not yesterday! This monastery has stood a hundred years if it has stood a day, and won’t stand much longer either,” and with that he turned him back. When he got home, he said to the she-dragon, his wife, “I met a black monk who serves in a monastery, and I asked him about them, and he told me that a lad and a lass had run past that way when the monastery was being built, but that was not yesterday, for the monastery is a hundred years old at the very least.”––“Why didst thou not tear the black monk to pieces and pull down the monastery? for ’twas they. But I see I must go after them myself, thou art no good at all.”

So off she set and ran and ran, and they knew she was coming, for the earth quaked and yawned beneath her. Then the damsel said to Ivan, “I fear me ’tis all over, for she is coming herself! Look now! I’ll change thee into a stream and myself into a fish––a perch.” Immediately after the she-dragon came up and said to the perch, “Oh, oh! so thou wouldst run away from me, eh!” Then she turned herself into a pike and began chasing the perch, but every time she drew near to it, the perch turned its prickly fins toward her, so that she could not catch hold of it. So she kept on chasing it and chasing it, but finding she could not catch it, she tried to drink up the stream, till she drank so much of it that she burst.

Then the maiden who had become a fish said to the youth who had become a river, “Now that we are alive and not dead, go back to thy lord-father and thy father’s house and see them, and kiss them all except the daughter of thy uncle, for if thou kiss that damsel thou wilt forget me, and I shall go to the land of Nowhere.” So he went home and greeted them all, and as he did so he thought to himself, “Why should I not greet my uncle’s daughter like the rest of them? Why, they’ll think me a mere pagan if I don’t!” So he kissed her, and the moment he did so he forgot all about the girl who had saved him.

So he remained there half a year, and then bethought him of taking to himself a wife. So they betrothed him to a very pretty girl, and he accepted her and forgot all about the other girl who had saved him from the dragon, though she herself was the she-dragon’s daughter. Now the evening before the wedding they heard a young damsel crying Shishki (wedding cakes) in the streets. They called to the young damsel to go away, or say who she was, for nobody knew her. But the damsel answered never a word, but began to knead more cakes, and made a cock-dove and a hen-dove out of the dough and put them down on the ground, and they became alive. And the hen-dove said to the cock-dove, “Hast thou forgotten how I cleared the field for thee, and sowed it with wheat, and thou mad’st a roll from the corn which thou gavest to the she-dragon?”––But the cock-dove answered, “Forgotten! forgotten!”––Then she said to him again, “And hast thou forgotten how I dug away the mountain for thee, and let the Dnieper flow by it that the merchant barques might come to thy store-houses, and that thou mightst sell thy wheat to the merchant barques?” But the cock-dove replied, “Forgotten! forgotten!”––Then the hen-dove said to him again, “And hast thou forgotten how we two went together in search of the golden hare? Hast thou forgotten me then altogether?”––And the cock-dove answered again, “Forgotten! forgotten!” Then the good youth Ivan bethought him who this damsel was that had made the doves, and he took her to his arms and made her his wife, and they lived happily ever afterward.

#Ukraine #Ukraine Folktale #Folktale #Fairytale #fable #eggs #Kitchen Witchcraft #Food and Folklore #Food Fables #October #Dragons #Klickwitch #story #happy ending

[outofangband]

your posts about the flora and fauna of Dor Lomin are all a delight to read. do you have headcanons about the flora and fauna of Doriath?

Thank you!

Flora and fauna of Arda masterlist 

I’m doing more specific sections here:

Region

Disclaimer: I used both what we can extrapolate based on descriptions of the landscape and climate as well as my own headcanons and inspirations as well as some reference books! And of course this is only an overview as a full list of species would likely be thousands, even tens of thousands long! I also used some reference books on similar regions and habitats as well as The Atlas of Middle Earth to confirm what I could about climate. The Flora of Middle Earth was helpful too. It’s a volume compiled by both a literary critic and a botanist that compiles all mentions of flora in Tolkien’s work. I’ll be honest, I remembered more of the species than I thought I did!

I really love working on and researching these so if there’s any locations in Beleriand, Middle Earth or Valinor you want done send them in and if there any more specific categories you want more on!

Doriath is obviously huge and so this is by necessity an overview. If you want to ask more specific questions though like more about birds or ferns you’re always welcome to do that!

Note: I’m going to stick with the forests of Doriath and go into Menengroth and Nam Emloth another time if there is interest!

edit: more information to be added

Doriath is located between the Ered Gorgoroth and the hills and plateaus of Estolad, Talath Dirnam and the Andrem (I actually haven’t done any of those yet if anyone wants to send them! Same with Nam Emloth.) It is somewhat harder to get a definite answer on the climate and habitat but Doriath appears to be deciduous forests and there are a dozen or so species or families of plants that are named there in The Silmarillion, The Children of Húrin, and The Lays of Beleriand.

 Thingol is named the king of beeches and oak and elms and these likely are common along with, hawthorns, birch, poplars, tulip trees and willows.

Rockroses, thyme, sage, blackberry, wood parsley, heath, hemlock, lindens, a variety of ferns including polypodium, cliff ferns, walking ferns, athyrium and more, as well as a variety of mosses (mountain fern moss, broom forkmoss, species of liverworts, etc)

Elanor and nimrodel, both flowers that Tolkien named himself grew in the woods of Doriath. Snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils cover the forest floor in springtime and a variety of wild flowers including forget me nots, blueweed,  and various species in the rose family grow throughout the summer and autumn. White roses are actually mentioned in The Lay of Leithian.

Fauna once again is by necessity an overview. Nightingales, thrushes, wrens, warblers, robins, chats, akalats, buntings, nightjars, silvery owls, and more. 

Luna moths, fireflies, Lycaeninae (gossamer winged butterflies), sunbeams, blue coppers, metalmarks, and a variety of iridescent beetles are just a small sample of the insect life in Doriath

I also maintain there are species of small, more bird like dinosaurs such as in the oviraptor family living in the wilder parts of Doriath.

Emerald grass snakes and a few species of lizards are scarce (maybe something like the bedriaga’s skink or the ocellated  lizard)  can be found. Certain pools deep in the woods have oddly pale turtles who rarely leave the water. Think like the European pond terrapin but almost white. 

I imagine Doriath as a very old, almost prehistoric forest that doesn’t have a huge number of mammals, especially large ones. But there are shrews, tenrecs, wild rabbits, smaller deer like water deer and pudu, silver foxes, maybe even like extinct species of tapirs. 

I do actually have headcanons about megafauna in other places in Beleriand (I think my fauna of Brethil post might have gone into that?)

Again this is just an overview but please feel free to ask more questions! I have lots of thoughts. 

#Doriath #the children of húrin #The Silmarillion #Beleriand #musing and meta

[bluntforceheadtrauma]

i wish i didnt know what bats were so i could see a little fuzzy bat and be like ?!?! this shrew grew wings?

#entry

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: Art3misiA’s Fests

Much Ado about Dramione: A Shakespearean Fest 2020: 

Of Rules & Gamblers - A Shakespearean Tale by noxsoulmate - G, WIP - A Shakespearean tale - set in the times of Jane Austen.Cousins Hermione Granger and Susan Bones grew up as sisters with their Aunt Amelia. With Susan's open - and at times naive - nature, their aunt sees only one way to keep her as safe as the more mature Hermione while they complete their education far away at Hogwarts. Susan may be courted so long as Hermione chooses a suitor as well. Not happy about this new rule, Susan's suitor Blaise Zabini asks his friend Draco Malfoy for help - much to the dismay of their mutual friend Theodore Nott, who does not appreciate the ladies' hearts being gambled with. Based on Shakespeare’s “Taming of the Shrew” and its adaption “10 Things I Hate About You.”

The Potioneer of Oxfordshire by Art3misiA - T, WIP - Hermione Granger is an accomplished potioneer, working on a project that could greatly benefit the wizarding community. But she and Ginny are also on a secret mission. Now they just have to outwit and expose their target, while trying to keep the men who are wooing them in the dark about why they're really in town.

Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day by anne_ammons - G, one-shot -  ‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind’ (A Midsummer Night’s Dream – Act 1, Scene 1)

However You Wish by TheImperfectionista - E, WIP - Everybody is talking about Rose de Bois, the sensational romance novelist who has captured the hearts of many; including Draco Malfoy’s. It's too bad that Hermione Granger knows about his dirty little secret and she's going to do everything she can to keep her secret from him. A story based on the Shakespeare comedy, As You Like It.

Oaths Lost, Ourselves Found by BiscuitsForPotter  T, one-shot - When Head Girl Hermione takes a self-imposed vow not to let anything distract her during her Eighth Year, she means it. No club activities, no Hogsmeade visits, and definitely no boys. Her life at Hogwarts consists of attending class, studying in her room, and that's about it. But when Head Boy Draco knocks on her door to remind her that she has other responsibilities to attend to, she comes to realize that her 'no boys' policy might have to go. Based on Shakespeare's Love's Labours Lost, written for the Much Ado About Dramione Fest.

#art3misia's fests #Fests/Exchanges/Challenges

[art3misia]

And we’re live! Much Ado About Dramione is in reveal!

Thank you to everyone who participated in this fest! Below are the submissions so far - rock on over, read, and give these amazing authors some love! Title: Of Rules and Gamblers: A Shakespearean Tale Author:@noxsoulmate Rating: G Status: WiP Summary: A Shakespearean tale - set in the times of Jane Austen. Cousins Hermione Granger and Susan Bones grew up as sisters with their Aunt Amelia. With Susan's open - and at times naive - nature, their aunt sees only one way to keep her as safe as the more mature Hermione while they complete their education far away at Hogwarts.Susan may be courted so long as Hermione chooses a suitor as well.Not happy about this new rule, Susan's suitor Blaise Zabini asks his friend Draco Malfoy for help - much to the dismay of their mutual friend Theodore Nott, who does not appreciate the ladies' hearts being gambled with. Based on Shakespeare’s “Taming of the Shrew” and its adaption “10 Things I Hate About You.” Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22515847/chapters/53802793

Title: Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day Author: anne_ammons Rating: G Status: Complete Summary: ‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind’(A Midsummer Night’s Dream – Act 1, Scene 1) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22503736

Title: Oaths Lost, Ourselves Found Author: BiscuitsForPotter Rating: T Status: Complete Summary: When Head Girl Hermione takes a self-imposed vow not to let anything distract her during her Eighth Year, she means it. No club activities, no Hogsmeade visits, and definitely no boys. Her life at Hogwarts consists of attending class, studying in her room, and that's about it. But when Head Boy Draco knocks on her door to remind her that she has other responsibilities to attend to, she comes to realize that her 'no boys' policy might have to go. Based on Shakespeare's Love's Labours Lost, written for the Much Ado About Dramione Fest. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22457224

Title: However You Wish Author: TheImperfectionista Rating: E Status: WiP Summary: Everybody is talking about Rose de Bois, the sensational romance novelist who has captured the hearts of many; including Draco Malfoy’s. It's too bad that Hermione Granger knows about his dirty little secret and she's going to do everything she can to keep her secret from him. A story based on the Shakespeare comedy, As You Like It. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22450060/chapters/53641216

And my fic!

Title: The Potioneer of Oxfordshire Author: ArtemisiA Rating: T Status: WiP Summary: Hermione Granger is an accomplished potioneer, working on a project that could greatly benefit the wizarding community. But she and Ginny are also on a secret mission. Now they just have to outwit and expose their target, while trying to keep the men who are wooing them in the dark about why they're really in town. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22474498/chapters/53702470

[westywrites]

The Fox and the Raven

In The Corvine, powerful witches claim they shield the world against evil from another realm. They claim they are instructed to do so by the Word of the Raven. Here is a combination of their favourite tales to tell. (Continues under the read more)

Years upon years ago, in a time long before that of humanity, the Earth was ruled by animals. Among fearsome hunters and terrified prey, none paid much attention to the Raven. A beady-eyed black bird was not to be feared by anything bigger than the Shrews unless, of course, you were already dead, but by then your worries had left you.

The Raven didn’t care for their life of scavenging. They cared even less for the moments of starvation when they were forced to steal eggs from the nests of other birds. The Raven felt stuck. Stuck in an unchanging world as they stared up at the stars and wondered. That was a trait few creatures possessed, that wondering. The Brown Bear laughed when the Raven described their plight. He was perfectly content to scoop salmon from the stream and didn’t understand what the Raven meant when they said they dreamed. But dream they did. Staring at the night sky, watching stars twinkle on the black wings of night, they dreamed that that was where they were meant to be.

In another world, not unlike our own, but not quite like it either, the Fox, too, was watching the stars. In her world, stars twinkled red like the embers of a dying fire. She wished and she dreamed, imagining the stars were fur as red as her own. Imagining the stars were eyes staring back, understanding eyes that also dreamed of a different world. The Fox vowed to herself that one day, one day soon, she would find her way into the night sky.

Determined to meet her goal, the Fox ventured to the west of her land. There there was a mountain, renowned for its height. The Mountain Goat warned that many who had tried to climb the mountain had never returned. But the Fox’s mind was made and could not be changed. The mountain reached up and up, beyond the clouds. So high it seemed to reach beyond the sky itself. The Fox climbed. She climbed and she climbed. It seemed an impossible task, but each night, the clouds would clear and the Fox would the red stars above her. She would grin and swish her tail. Each night the sky seemed closer, and she felt it more than ever that someone was looking back at her. Someone was urging her forward. Someone somewhere was dreaming just as hard as she was.

On the tenth night, the Fox reached the summit. Shivering in the cold, fur matted with snow, she froze. Before her, the sky stretched in every direction, an endless expanse of red stars against a wine-dark sky. Clever and perceptive as she was, the Fox knew she needed to search. She wasn’t sure what she would find, but there had to be something. There had to be. And there, just a leap from the edge, the air shimmered and folded. It called to the Fox. Without a moment's hesitation, she leapt from the cliff.

The Raven’s dreams came true in the form of a fox falling from the sky. Calling out in alarm, the Raven swooped down to find the Fox laying at the foot of a pine tree. She shook herself off and laughed. The Raven couldn’t understand. Why did she laugh? Where had she come from? Hopping hesitantly, the Raven approached the Fox. She turned to them with eyes like fire, joyous, dreaming fire. And they knew there would never be another for them to love as much as they would this fox.

The Fox found herself fallen at the foot of an inquisitive bird. Eyes as black as its feathers, but shining with life, shining like stars. And the Fox knew too that she had found the one she was looking for. She invited the Raven to follow her. She asked them about their dreams.

They made their way to the east of the Raven’s land, falling further in love every step of the journey. By the time they found themselves at the foot of a mountain, the Fox and the Raven were so deeply in love that no warning of peril could stop them from following their dreams, together. For they had found another as full of dreams and wishes as themselves.

At the summit of a mountain yet again, the Fox explained to the Raven what they were looking for. Surrounded by night air, by the golden glow of the stars in the realm of the Raven, together the Fox and the Raven found a spot of shimmering air. It beckoned them. It welcomed them home. And without hesitation, they leapt.

The Raven tumbled forward into the unknown. Landing on a smooth surface, that felt strange. They felt strange. They stood slowly, breath stolen by the world around them. Here there was nothing but stars. Stars upon stars upon stars of every colour and size. They floated and twinkled. Whatever held the Raven up could not be seen, beneath them was only more stars. Brilliant stars against an ever-changing backdrop of colours.

A laugh rang out, drawing the Raven’s attention. Nearby, a strange-looking creature stood, limbs outstretched. It was tall, and pale, and nearly hairless, save for a shock of long red strands off the top of its head. The creature showed its teeth and the Raven backed away, stumbling. They stumbled over themselves. Over strange limbs like that of the creature. Except instead of pale, their skin was dark. They laughed in shock, twisting their new limbs. Instead of wings, they had long featherless things. Instead of thin legs and feet, they had strong legs made for walking. Made for running.

The other creature spoke with the voice of the Fox and the Raven laughed again. She beckoned them forward and grasped each other, pulling into an embrace. They both laughed, lips pulled back to show teeth, but it wasn’t threatening. It was happy. They had no word for it, but they were smiling. They ran and leapt and yelled, twirling through the stars. Here, they felt powerful. Here, they felt free.

The Fox and the Raven lived in the starry realm for time uncountable, not that they were trying to keep count. They lived and they loved, and every so often they would catch a glimpse back into one of their worlds through the stars floating by. Nothing at home ever changed, whereas, in the realm of the stars, thing were always changing. It was a dream come true for them both. But with only each other, they became lonely. They longed for something more, someone to share their knowledge with, someone else who would live and love and always yearn for more.

On a whim, the Raven plucked one of the stars from the air. It turned to dust in their palm. The dust sparkled and shined. The Raven had an idea. A peculiar idea, but one that was worth a try nonetheless. After all, it was senseless curiosity that got them where they were. The Raven brought the Fox down again into their world, not far from the tall mountain in the East. This time, the Fox and the Raven did not return to their original forms. They stayed the strange, tall, nearly hairless creatures. Kneeling on the soil underneath the golden stars, the Raven dug a neat row of holes. Dirt stuck under their fingernails and it made them smile again, looking up at the Fox. She nodded encouragingly, helping to dig the final hole. In each of the holes, the Raven poured a small pile of the dust from the starry realm. They pushed the dirt over and stepped back. The Raven sat down at the roots of a tree and the Fox joined them. They leaned together and watched, falling asleep in the moonlight.

Come sunrise,  something incredible had occurred. Something magical. Standing above each hole, confused and too naive to be afraid, was a row of creatures that looked just like the form given to the Fox and the Raven by the starry realm. Creatures that had risen from stardust and soil. All different shapes and sizes and colours like the starry realm from which they came. The Raven and the Fox laughed and danced. The newly formed creatures joined the dancing, their first moments joyous ones.

Within a decade, the Fox and the Raven and the new creatures had formed a town at the foot of the mountain. Within a century, the new creatures’ ancestors were venturing off into the world. Within a few millennia, they had found names for themselves, gumones, from the earth. Then hemones, homo, human. Human. Within a few millennia, they were human. And the Fox and the Raven witnessed it all from the starry realm, sometimes just watching, sometimes joining. They became known as gods. Loving, benevolent gods. At times their image was twisted, saying they were the original humans, ascendants of all. But they didn’t mind, after all, they had started everything.

Not long after the success of the initial town at the foot of the mountain, the Fox and the Raven had travelled back to her realm and repeated the experiment. The result was much the same. It was a joy to them to make playful bets. Whose realm would be the first to find a solution to a problem, whose people would travel the furthest, whose people were more clever? Still, out of every generation in both realms, the Fox and the Raven would choose their favourite humans to join them on their adventures through and between the realms. The more they crossed from the realm to realm, the more abilities they discovered could be used or created. The Raven encouraged humans to use these abilities, eventually discovering that a human could cross at will if they were to consume the dust from the starry realm. Much to the Fox’s frustration, the same could not work for her and the Raven. They still had to climb to the top of a tall mountain and find a wrinkle before they could cross out of a realm.

The Raven dedicated themselves to the humans. They spent much of their time experimenting, travelling, learning along with humanity. The Fox grew bitter. She was losing the love of her life to their own creation. She called and begged after the Raven. But they were too busy to hear. It seemed no matter what they did, there were always humans suffering, in both the realms. The magic of the starry world helped, but it could not fix everything. They had to do more. The Raven couldn’t stand to see their creation suffer. Above all, they couldn’t stand to see children suffer, and yet that always seemed to be who suffered most.

The Raven tried to solve things with magic. They tried and they tried, but it began to make things worse. They had made a mistake, given magic to someone greedy. Thousands died and the Raven was powerless to stop it.

The Fox took her sobbing lover in her arms. The first time they embraced in centuries. She whispered to the Raven. Whispered of their love. Whispered of times gone by. When it was just them. When just a few humans had magic. When only the ones they thought worthy could join them in their realm. The Fox, clever and conniving as she was, knew just how to get her lover back.

While the Raven slept, surrounded by endless colourful stars, the Fox slipped into her world. She gathered her pick of humans and told them how to proceed. She told them that only the worthy, only those she summoned, should have magic. She told them that magic should rule, tight control. No suffering to be had if everyone follows the rules. She told them to follow her word, and they vowed they would. They named themselves the Vulpsin. Then the Fox left, climbing the tall mountain in the west of her long time ago home and returning to the starry realm. The people of the Raven’s realm had taken to calling the starry place the Astrifer. A fitting name. So the Fox returned to the Astrifer, passing her sleeping lover’s form among the stars. They stirred in their sleep, and she paused to comfort them. Everything would be alright soon, they would see. And then they would be hers again.

The Fox dropped into the Raven’s realm, landing deftly on her feet. She travelled swiftly through the lands, calling all she deemed worthy. This realm was absolutely infected with magic. It wreaked havoc. The Fox could see why the Raven was so worried, but they were confused. Magic wasn’t a solution when given freely. Stopping in a small town to grab a young woman she knew was worthy, the Fox saw a man using magic in the town square. While he was distracting the crowd, shadowy figures, too fast to be natural, snatched away children from the edges, shoving them into wagons. Magic upon magic to commit heinous acts. The Fox was filled with fury. This was what these filthy creatures dared do with her lover’s generosity. They disgraced the very name of the Raven. Drawing from the energy of the Astrifer, the Fox let flames cover her fingers and in the blink of an eye, the children were free. The ungrateful, magical scum nothing more than scorch marks on the dirt. As the Fox travelled the world, gathering her ilk, she saw again and again injustices done with magic. Fury pulsed through her. The count of disgraces eliminated grew as she went and her followers did the same, removing those who did not deserve their magic. Removing those who abused the kind nature of the Raven. The Fox couldn’t bear to see their lover mocked by such pitiful creatures.

The Fox returned to the mountain in the east, having gathered all those she wished to gather, and having eliminated many more. She was surprised to find a crowd awaiting her. All magic users. They cried out for her to stop. She told them it was for her love. She told them they disgraced the name of the Raven. The crowd told her she was wrong. But the Fox was never wrong. These humans dared think they knew more than her. Knew more than her about her love. Few escaped from the crowd that day.

The Fox climbed the mountain, content in her success. The world, both worlds, were a purer place, and once she was done there would be no more suffering. She would have her Raven back.

At the summit, the Fox froze, cold wind and snow whipping around her, blowing red hair across her face. Before her, anger unlike any she had seen before across their face, was the Raven. They had tears in their eyes. The Fox shook her head, they were delusional. The Raven flung out accusations. They said she had caused suffering. They said her realm had turned to despair following her orders. She said they were mistaken. She said they couldn’t understand, they were too emotional to see. The Raven stopped then. As still as if they had joined the ice around them.

“You’re wrong,” they said. “You’re wrong and you have gone too far.”

“I was helping you,” the Fox cried. Her heart was splintering. The Raven watched without emotion in their dark eyes. “I love you.”

“I cannot love you.”

And with that, the Raven shattered the Fox’s heart. She screamed, the mountain itself quivering under her agony. Her veins filled with fire. Energy from the Astrifer melted the snow on the mountain top.  The Raven did not flee. The Raven did not fight. They just watched as their once-lover charged, looking more flame than person. They just watched as their once-lover shifted back into the form of a fox. They shut their eyes as they too turned back into a raven. And just like that, the Fox and the Raven disappeared. They left nothing behind but the four closest friends of the Raven, who had been hiding. Four who had witnessed the death of their beloved Raven.

From that moment forward, they followed the last words the Raven had said to them. Protect the realm. Those on the other side, those who were loyal to the Fox would try and ruin the world. They would try to pervert peace into fear, try to twist wonder into control. From that moment forward, they called themselves the Corvine. And they sealed off the realm, creating a barrier between the world and the Astrifer. And they vowed to protect us forevermore, following the peaceful Word of the Raven.  

Taglist: @ratracechronicler @undrthesummerstars Let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from the list for updates to this WIP, including mood boards, world-building, excerpts, and little back story things like this.

#west's words #amwriting #writeblr #writers on tumblr #original writing #myth #witches #legend #tale #the Corvine #the fox and the raven #this is a story Lennox tells a lot #though he usually divides this into several stories #Cambridge really likes to hear all of it #she's a dreamer too #she feels the raven and the fox and their wishing for something more #Lennox does too #but in a very different way than Cambridge #lennox #cambridge #the word of the raven #the realm of the raven

[theerachronicleslibrary]

Apple Willowhut

Warrior of FireClan | Archer

Largely reserved with a special eye for hitting targets in the bullseye almost every time, Apple isn’t afraid to whip her abnormally long tail around before interrogating a person if they’ve just snuck up on her. She, like her mother, doesn’t particularly like to fight, but will if it means protecting people.

Apple trained under Peter Croxton to become one of the best archers the clan has ever seen. Whether she’s firing from a bow or using one of her own tail spikes, Apple’s accuracy rivals that of a sniper with a very good scope. She prefers to fire a single tail spike at a time--a special trick Peter shared with only her.

Apple was very close with both of her brothers before Shrew passed, but grew a bit distant from Bracken in the aftermath. She still cares deeply about her little brother, but finds his rage a bit unsettling at times, and thinks he needs to talk to someone before his anger eats him up like Blaze’s did to her. She visits her mother frequently, as she still lives in the Midwest and prefers the wide-open space to that of the bustling cities and extensive evergreen forests her brother is now so fond of.

Apple has an odd condition that allows her stripes to glow in the dark, provided it’s a cave and not actually an open-night sky. Her wings make her skilled in swimming, but she prefers dry land. Apple is fond of speaking of her Native American heritage, and will often tell kits and apprentices about the relationship between demidragons and the Natives from long ago. She often visits Willow on their old reservation and delights in playing with the foster kids and rez kids alike.

Birthday: May 15th, 2012

#Apple Willowhut #FireClan #FireClan warrior #fantasy oc #OC #Renegades #renegades character #Blaze's demidragons

[not-just-any-fangirl]

heyyy you lovely human :)) i have a story request id write it myself but my writing is horrible (its actually for a friend this story who recently came out) so Natsu and Lucy are talking and lucy brings up that she didnt actually run away she was disowned for being a trans-woman but explains to Natsu that him and the guild showed her there was nothing wrong with her and yeah you can take it however you want but thats the basis of it like pan!natsu and trans!lucy have a nice day :)))))))

Family

Word Count; 1441

A/N; Hey! I’m going to be doing these out of order just so I can finally dig into them! 

I love this prompt but i just want to address one thing, and idk if you even meant it like this but. Natsu doesn’t have to be pan to be attracted to Lucy if she was a trans woman. She’s a woman, and so long as women are included in Natsu’s sexuality he’s attracted to them, you know? So he could be straight and still want to be with her. I know you prob didn’t mean it this way but the wording just rubbed me the wrong way lol

Regardless I hc Natsu as demi-pansexual anyway! So it’s a moot point!

Onto the fluff!

Natsu groaned, throwing his hand of cards on the table before crossing his arms. He slunk down into his seat, fabric of his scarf settling just under his nose, leaving him free to be seen glaring at a smirking Happy. 

“You’re really bad at this,” Happy chimed, hiding a shrew grin behind a paw. He blinked at Natsu innocently when the dragon-slayer bared his fangs at the small cat. Charla and Lily might prefer being called Exceeds, but Happy had been very firm about being a cat. Nobody but cats loved fish nearly as much as Happy, after all. 

“It ain’t my fault,” Natsu grumbled, “Lucy’s like a fuckin’ bloodhound when it comes to money.”

Lucy beamed at him, proud of herself to a degree that Natsu frankly found obscene -and adorable- as she gathered all the jewels that had been tossed in a pile in the middle of the table. “I wouldn’t have to if you’d stop blowing up everything and wasting half of our reward having to repair it,” she said, flat tone replaced with a giddy sigh as she counted her winnings. “Now I have enough for rent!”

“Why don’t you move somewhere cheaper?” Happy asked. He spread his wings, sparkles drifting to the floor and dissolving into the air before they hit the fluffy carpet Lucy used to hide the scorch marks on her hardwood carpet. He circled above them twice before landing on Lucy’s head, nuzzling her temple. “Natsu and I don’t pay any rent! You should build a cottage beside us. Then we could come over all the time without having to climb in windows, and we could go fishing, and we could play tag in the forest, and-” Happy continued to list all that they could do if they were neighbours, and Natsu watched fondly as Lucy nodded along, entertaining Happy’s fantasies with suggestions and encouraging prompts. 

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, nose crinkling as her nail got caught in a small tangle. Natsu cocked his head, watching for several seconds as Lucy gently worked to free herself without disturbing Happy’s perch on her crown. 

“You should cut your hair,” Natsu said. Lucy jerked at his comment, hands coming together in her lap. Natsu frowned as he sensed the air change, Happy trailing off as well. Lucy looked at the table pointedly, shoulders tense and curled into herself in a way Natsu didn’t think he’d ever seen. 

“Why would you say that?” she asked. There was a forced nonchalance that made a sour taste form in Natsu’s mouth. 

“’Cus it always gets tangled in stuff, and, I’unno, a bob or something might suit ya, or... somethin’...” Natsu said, awkwardness creeping up his spine. He rubbed his hands on his pants, biting his tongue at how sweaty they felt all of a sudden. 

Lucy looked at him from her lashes, worrying her lower lip even as a small smile pulled up the corners. Natsu’s palms felt even sweatier and he swallowed thickly, looking at the cards still scattered on the table before flicking back to look at Lucy. 

“Ooooooh.”

Lucy blushed brightly as she swatted at the singing cat. He dove out of her reach, making kissy faces at Natsu, giggling behind his paws again. Natsu yowled as he lunged at Happy, ignoring how warm his own face felt. Happy swooped and taunted around him, Natsu’s grabs resulting in fists of air and even more teasing, Lucy calling for him to be careful of her furniture. As if that mattered when Happy was beginning to chant ‘Lucy and Natsu, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G’. 

“My side table!” Lucy wailed as Natsu caught it with the inside of his new. He cursed as he crashed to the ground, right on top of a screaming Lucy. 

Jewels floated through the air, landing around them. Lucy blinked up at Natsu, eyes wide and golden hair splayed out on the floor, loose curls caught between Natsu’s fingers where he had braced himself. They stayed there, both frozen as they looked at one another. Heat curled in Natsu’s gut, one he was feeling more often than he had ever in his life, not the powerful and angry source like his magic. This heat was kind of softer, a gentle simmer that made him trip over his feet or grin stupidly. It kind of reminded Natsu of a spring day or a hug. 

Natsu kind of wanted to punch it. 

“You two have weird looks on your face.”

Natsu grunted as there was suddenly a Lucy-sized-hand in his face, smushing his cheek as she pushed him off. Natsu glared at her pout from her he laid on the ground on his stomach, pulling a cushion from the sofa down for him to hug and prop his head with. “You’re mean.”

“And you need to learn the meaning of personal space,” Lucy huffed. Her pout grew larger, cheeks puffing like a chipmunks and arms crossing over her ribs. Natsu poked her side and sniggered at her squeak. 

Lucy groaned as she fell tot he floor beside Natsu, still pouting halfheartedly. He handed her a pillow, grinning at her eye roll and found smile as she took it. 

“Hey, Luce?” Natsu asked, watching her carefully. “How come you got all weird when I said you should cut your hair?”

Lucy’s smile dampened and her fingers tightened on the pillow. Her honey brown eyes seemed duller when she looked at Natsu, sharpening as she nodded to herself. 

“My da- Jude used to tell me to cut my hair. To keep it a proper length and to not be such a disappointment,” Lucy spoke softly, and Natsu waited quietly for her to continue, knowing now was not the time to interrupt with questions. “He said mom had spoiled me too much, encouraging my delusions. Learning magic, writing, acting like... a girl.”

“Why couldn’t you act like a girl? You are a girl?” Happy asked. He sat between Natsu and Lucy, his paw resting on her knee. 

“Jude didn’t think so,” Lucy said, a bitterness and tiredness creeping into her voice. 

“How come, Lucy?” Natsu asked softly. 

Lucy looked at him, small smiling slipping away as she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. 

“Becuase I wasn’t born one.”

Silence fell over the room. Happy moved to curl into a ball against Lucy’s stomach, Natsu scanning Lucy’s face as he thought. 

“Yes you were.”

Lucy’s eyes flew open, staring at Natsu wide and in shock. “You’re a woman, right? Use she and her, like to smell pretty and keep yourself clean and buy cute shit, yeah?” Natsu pressed. Lucy nodded, swallowing thickly. Natsu ignored the way her lower lip trembled, and how much he wanted to still it with his thumb. “Then you’re a girl. And even if you weren’t, it wouldn’t matter. You’d be Lucy. That’s all I care about. It’s all your family cares about too.”

“Family?” Lucy asked. Her voice was hoarse, eyes watering as Happy nuzzled into her and squeezed himself between her body and her arms. 

“Yeah, Weirdo! Fairy Tail’s your family. And we wouldn’t change a thing ‘bout you.” Natsu grinned at her. Maybe if he smiled big enough she’d smile too and wouldn’t cry. Natsu never knew what to do when Lucy cried. A gurgle caught in his throat when he was suddenly crushed in a hug, a sniffling Lucy attached to his chest. “D-don’t cry! I- shit, Luce, I’m sorry I didn’t mena-”

Lucy shook her head, curling into his chest even tighter. “Thank you, Natsu.”

Natsu laid still, arms hovering over her shoulders, unsure what to do. The warm heat in his gut came back from before, but this time it spread to his whole body. Natsu was especially aware of it where Lucy was pressed into his chest and her knees knocked against his thigh. Slowly he rested his arms on her, light enough that she could break free with just a shift. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”

“Anything, for you Luce,” Natsu said. He hugged her tighter, burying his nose in her hair. She smelled good, but Lucy always smelt good to him. He thought she’d look cute with a bob, but Natsu had a sneaking suspicion that he’d think she’d look cute with any hairstyle. Maybe even bald. Okay, probably not bald, but still. Natsu opened an eye when he felt a devious gaze on them. 

Don’t. He thought at Happy, who had peeked his head over Lucy’s shoulder. His eyes were pinched slyly, knowing grin making Natsu shiver. Happy could read a room when he wanted to though, and knew this was more important for Lucy than teasing Natsu would be for him. And that he had all night to pester Natsu when they went back to the cabin. 

Unless Natsu claimed Lucy’s bed before they she tried to kick them out, that is.

#nalu #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #happy #just any writing #transwoman!lucy #requests #look whos finally writing againnnnn #if i fucked up anything please let me know! #but i figured Natsu seems the world so straight forwardly that if someone says theyre a certain gender hes not gonna question it #his dad was a dragon for crying out loud #yeah he might ask some...less than great questions #but the boys just a little socially stunted #and also i didn't want to write that so! #you get fluff and love and unconditional acceptance #and natsu having Feelings but not knowing what a crush is cus hes never had one before #Anon #just any answers

[vestedbeauty]

Scared of Fading Away in Midlife? Empower Yourself Now to Do What You're Here For

New Post has been published on https://vestedbeauty.com/scared-of-fading-away-in-midlife-empower-yourself-now-to-do-what-youre-here-for/

Scared of Fading Away in Midlife? Empower Yourself Now to Do What You're Here For

Midlife is the time to step into your purpose, to empower yourself to fulfill your mission, to become everything you were meant to be – and to do what only you can do.

“Men age like a fine wine, and women age like milk.” The whole idea of women becoming invisible in midlife reminds me of the fish that doesn’t know it’s swimming in water. It’s like some weird myth, an odd and awful fate we’re told is coming for us all. 

Sure, we all hear stories of the middle-aged woman who got passed over romantically or professionally. Or others who feel unheard or dismissed. Some get up in arms and rail against being deemed irrelevant. Some retreat quietly to the wings. Totally their choice. 

But I’m going to call bullshit on this so-called inevitability. I think it’s a cop-out. We were each put here to find and fulfill our purpose. Into every one of us, greatness has been sown. It’s our responsibility – duty, even – to nurture our gifts and unleash them in the world.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this over the past few months. Now, it’s time to share. Maybe it’ll help you, too.

Timidity Spawns Invisibility 

As a little kid, I was so shy that my dad finally took me outside to meet the kids when we moved to a new neighborhood. The thought of just walking up to them, introducing myself, and playing kickball with them was terrifying. Eight-year-old me remembered earlier rejections and decided it was safer to stay home and read instead of taking another risk. 

I’d somehow gathered that blending into the background was the safer choice. Well, if by ‘safer’ you mean lonely, isolated, and robbing the world of your unique gifts, talents, perspectives, and presence… sure. So, while I was mortified at the moment, that forcing out of the nest was absolutely the best thing.

I wish I could say I learned that life lesson for good at age eight. But no.

That preposterous timidity grew like an invasive plant species in my life. It led to lots of people-pleasing, kept me on the sidelines when a big part of me wanted to join the game, lured me into lots of self-induced isolation, and probably cost me hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Life is too short to play small. There’s a big difference between playing not to lose – and playing to win.

So, Timidity, you’re on the shit list. Sure, you meant well, and I appreciate the good intentions. But it’s time for you to scram.

Behold, four challenges I have thrust before your eyes! Should you accept, you will utterly transform how you show up in the world and what you create in it.

Challenge #1: Know Thyself, Own Thyself 

You can’t empower yourself to live a wildly satisfying second half of life where you make your best contributions to the world if you don’t even know what you want. Ask a hundred midlife women, “What do you really want?” and the most common answer you’ll hear is, “I don’t really know.” (Doubt it? Ask where they want to go out to dinner! You’ll get the same answer.)

Some of them are lying.

They know. They just don’t feel comfortable saying what they want – even to themselves. Maybe, like me, at some point, they taught themselves that resilience and strength meant getting by on life’s scraps, essentially saying, “I require no maintenance or care. I’m fine.” Try that with your car and see how it goes.

Some have put others’ desires before theirs for so long that they don’t even realize they no longer hear their own wishes’ voice. They’ve heard how unselfish they are, what a great mom because they live to serve, what a great woman behind the man… that kind of invisibility-inducing false compliment might be the deadliest of them all.

Ask little kids what they want, and they’ll rattle off a list like they’re paging through the old Sears catalog at Christmas. (Remember them?) They haven’t learned the warped rule that you aren’t supposed to want anything. 

Getting back in touch with what you want… what you REALLY want… takes practice. 

Like when atrophy sets in, it can feel weird exercising your “what I want” muscles. It can even feel selfish and wrong to verbalize what you want. But I’ll challenge you on that. Your desires don’t disappear just because you won’t admit them. And that’s a good thing. What you want is unique to you, and it’s part of what drives you to make your extraordinary contribution to the world. Becoming aware of what you want will propel you to make it so.

Do This to Empower Yourself: Get quiet with yourself (getting outside helps). Imagine there’s absolutely nothing stopping you from having whatever you really, really want. Then say it. Write it. Even tell someone about it.

Challenge #2: Watch Your Mouth (and Keyboard)

Self-deprecation works great for comedians. But in real life, it’s a cop-out. 

How’s it show up?

Mild insults we use to belittle ourselves

Ways we undervalue ourselves

Excessive modesty

Always asking permission

What is self-deprecation, really? It’s a way to kick yourself first, so nobody else feels the need to do it. It’s bowing and scraping before a perceived audience of ruthless critics so they can see you’ve already eviscerated yourself… so they won’t. After all, it somehow feels less painful if you cut yourself rather than someone else doing it.

But here’s the thing.

There is no audience. Not one that matters, really. And certainly, not one that knows the truth about you better than you do. Haters might hurl insults at you, but the old “I’m rubber. You’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you” saying is dead-on here. Seriously, humans typically criticize others for the same flaws they’re trying not to see in themselves. That becomes clearer as we age (both when we give and receive criticism).

You do not need to hide. Certainly not behind a wall of your own insults. The words you use about yourself will empower you to stand sure or leave you cowering. Be careful which you choose. 

This may be a tough habit to break. It will take practice and vigilance.

Do This: Start with what you write – particularly on social media or in emails. Draft your words normally, whatever way your brain sends them to your fingers. Read what you wrote. Would you want some stranger to say these things about someone you love? If so, delete those bits and rewrite them in a way that empowers you. Write with abandon; edit with ruthlessness.

Challenge #3: Rock Those Big Kid Pants

We all have weird leftovers running our lives. (Not that plastic container in the back left corner of the shelf in the fridge.) Somewhere along the line, someone made an off-handed remark or otherwise slighted you – and you tucked the memory away so deeply you might not even remember it. Find them and you’ll empower yourself to break into a new level of freedom.

I have a weird example. 

When I was a kid, I remember our family getting a gas grill. My dad told my brother and me not to touch it – a smart and reasonable safety warning.

I obeyed. Until I was like 45 years old! It wasn’t a conscious thought, “I’m not allowed to touch a grill.” But it was in there – this hesitance to ignite a propane grill.

I remember telling a friend in Fiji about my weird aversion to grills. She’s a no-nonsense, very bold woman. She kind of looked at me like I was nuts, then said, “Sue, you’re a big girl now.” And, of course, I am. It was time to recognize that bizarre ‘rule’ I was living under and choose what works better.

Maybe you have some similar holdovers from childhood that you’ve bizarrely held onto. Worth looking at and challenging. 

Confession: I still have never watched “The Bad News Bears,” but I have watched “Grease” (waiting for a bolt of lightning to strike!).

Do This to Empower Yourself: If you encounter some weird resistance that takes you back to childhood, take a look at it. Maybe it serves you, like “Don’t touch the hot stove.” But perhaps it’s a limit you can lift safely. Doing so can empower you in a surprisingly satisfying and seemingly small way.

Challenge #4: Be Your Own Champion

“What a bitch.” Many women (myself included) surrender a lot of personal power because we don’t want people to perceive us as bitches. That avoidance keeps us quiet. It leads us to ignore red flags. It puts us in unsafe situations.

As a college student at Rutgers, I remember walking through New Brunswick to get from one campus to another. Sometimes men would whistle or call out. It felt terrifying. I’d just grab my pepper spray tighter and walk faster, hoping they’d lose interest and go away.

But looking them in the eye and saying, “Fuck off” or the equivalent never crossed my mind. Standing my ground seemed more dangerous because they might see it as a challenge (maybe it was).

That same aversion to offense contributed to me going bankrupt decades later. I ignored red flags with the two men I’d partnered with on a real estate investment. I didn’t feel comfortable saying, “Wait. No fucking way. You guys are nuts if you think I’ll be the only one at risk here.” But, I told myself I didn’t know as much as they did… and that they were probably right and this was probably normal… and that I couldn’t speak up without risking the deal.

I’m not suggesting we should go around screaming like shrews. There’s more power in quiet strength. I don’t feel like I need to shout to be heard. But there’s also no reason to stay silent when I’ve got something to say. 

If you take a self-defense class, they’re going to teach you to shout something like,

“NO! DON’T TOUCH ME.”

There’s a reason they have to TEACH that – especially to women. Many of us have learned to be quiet – even when there’s a lot at stake. It can feel bizarre to hear yourself shout like that. Do it anyway. 

Do This to Empower Yourself: Next time you’re alone in your car or home, practice. Stand your ground. Use your deepest, strongest warrior-like voice, and shout, “NO. BACK OFF” or whatever you want to say. Repeat until you feel strong. You would do this to protect your kids… learn to do it for you, too.

Trust Yourself, Empower Yourself

Hey. This second half of your life is going to go fast. Faster than the first half – and that’s crazy even to consider. 

You aren’t done. If you were, you’d be gone.

You’ve got exciting adventures ahead, lives to touch, creations to make, delights to enjoy, crowning glories to achieve. Midlife is not the time to shrink back. 

Everything you’ve learned and done until now has perfectly positioned you to find and fulfill your purpose. You’re here for a reason. Deep inside, you have a voice that’s urging you onward. It may take practice, but you can learn to hear yourself – and trust yourself. You owe it to yourself, your loved ones, and the whole wide world to empower yourself to be and do and have what’s on your heart.

#Empower Yourself

[stephanythedramaqueen]

~Ω~

The most famous wedding in the course of history was to take place within three days. A wedding that would mean the significance of all the worlds and countries bound together as one.

It was a marriage that would echo through time and legends. Poets would write hymns of this wedding, artists would depict the event on disks and walls. New stars would be born and shine in the name of this union. All the divine were invited to witness the making of the marriage. Goddesses would bless the pair with eternal love and virility, gods would praise them with competence and glory.

Mortals were asked to attend as well; mighty humans whose names were famous through the lands. From the four warrior of light to the prince of the shadows, they were all openly welcomed to the wedding. Never before have gods and men come together like this, in celebration of a marriage of one single human man to a mortal human woman.

Everyone was to come… except one.

Thunder rumbled like music, storms grew in dark clouds and the most heinous of creatures dwelled in half the darkness, while Lighting awaited her invitation to this famous wedding. None had come yet, not for her at least.

“You will be welcomed too, sister.” Serah said with a smile. Whenever she beamed the sun shone a little bit brighter, as if she was made of its glowing rays itself.

Lightning, on the other hand, was her sister’s utter and complete opposite. Grey clouds hung about them and the more her temper grew, the darker the storm clouds got.

“They haven’t faltered to send a chocobo to you and your husband. They didn’t even exclude that imbecile friend yours. Yet they dismiss me?” Lightning’s growl was full of anger. It was one thing for all the gods and mortals to like Snow. He was everything that was optimistic and foolish, after all. Full of piss confidence and reckless luck, he never ceased to annoy Lightning in every way possible.

There was a time where she secretly sent a chimera to fell him, long before Serah married Noel, Snow had enough gall to court Lightning's little sister. But Snow managed to slay the beast and Lightning attempted no more. He made her sister happy with his friendship, and as long as he could provide her with happiness, Lightning allowed him to live.

It didn’t help much to think that her generosity was spit back in her face when she learned that all the beings of the heavens, earth and underworld was to attend this legendary wedding but for her.

“Do not blame Snow, sis. He loves you dearly, despite your… less friendly regard to him.” Serah cringed sweetly. “I will make sure to ask after your invitation. The chocobo lettered for you must have been lost, or feathered down. You know, mortals.” It was Serah’s nature to try and pacify things, especially her hot tempered sister.

Lightning scowled and thunder boomed loudly somewhere in the distance of her house. Her dress billowed about her as if a zephyr was permanently blowing around her. “If it is their folly to exempt me, they shall pay.”

Serah knew how true Lightning always kept to her words. “Hush, dear sister. It is not like that, I am sure. I will find out what went wrong.” The younger goddess left Lightning quickly thereafter with a hug and a smile, promising all would fall into place if it was meant to be.

Lightning sneered. Fang controlled faith and that shrew was a fickle bitch. She didn’t believe her sister at all. Light knew the gods all had their invitation to this horrible wedding moon turns ago. If Lightning didn’t receive her inquired presence now three days afore the feast, she was never going to have it. She swore vengeance if that was the case. She knew all the other deities weren’t fond of her and in turn she did not like any of them. But the mortals… she would not forgive their insolence. She would cast destruction and chaos on them all, and there’s no god or goddess that could save them from their wretched doom.

Mayhaps if they prayed hard and long enough, and sacrifice men’s flesh in her name, she would consider their redemption.

In the silence of her house, Lightning was left to contemplate dark and bloody thoughts that were mostly expelled by Serah if she were present. Mayhaps her sister was slightly right. Mayhaps the chocobo assigned to bring her her invite was lost after all. Lightning’s realm was by no means a pleasant place or easy to find, unless you’re indubitably looking for it. And her home was shrouded in mist and mystery. It was a realm between light and grey darkness, a zone where creatures of legends rested half in shadows and warm sunlight.

The goddess floated there, along with all those rejected by both men and deities. A manticore purred as Lightning passed it by, its wings folded open wide in the thin rays of light. Between the storm clouds that perpetually hung in Lightning’s domain, were more fiercer and fearsome beasts. She moved along, more gliding than walking really, waving a hand carelessly between the treacherous storm clouds. They dispersed and slowly, her own humble abode appeared in front of her.

Palaces of grandiose sizes were for the likes of Vincent and Cloud, whose dwelling had to reflect on their prowess. Lightning would do with her manor, for no one visited but her sister and occasionally Noel, if Serah forced him along. Light’s house was hidden for all eyes to see, as there were vehement creatures in her dimension that even she did not trust. Some wouldn’t hesitate to kill and devour her at all.

Inside her manor, everything was either gilded or crystallized, checkered floors and painted walls. And then there were the roses. Tons of growing roses with thorns as sharp as they were poisonous. They followed Lightning as she passed by, hundreds upon hundreds of roses, begging for her attention even if it were but a glance, but the goddess ignored them all, heading straight towards her bedchambers.

The curtains parted for her as if they were alive as soon as she set a foot inside, the ceiling-to-floor windows allowed as much of the little sunlight inside as it was capable of. There wasn’t much of a view except storm clouds and mists, mayhaps the outline of a monster could be seen, but nothing more. The rest of her chamber was lavishly furnished, for Lightning had little else except control of her own surroundings and she liked the sight of pretty things; with colorful tapestries, side-tables holding candlesticks that flicked alight and statues molded of more divine beings. Her four poster bed was giant and unslept, translucent drapes hung about it as if keeping the insides a secret, but it was none of this that Lightning was interested in than for her vanity table in the corner of her chamber. A grandeur mirror awaited her arrival, entirely casted in silver, wrought with roses and faces carved in agony.

The mirror itself was no mere looking glass, but a deep black crystal completely useless to see one’s reflection. It was at least half of Lightning’s height and fastened to the wall above her vanity table that held powders, oils and perfumes. Dark arts went into the making of it and was one of a kind in the whole known universe. It was a timeless piece of work, far older than Lightning’s existence and nameless even to this day.

Lightning stared at the object with contempt, the black glass quiet. “Mirror on the wall,” She hissed at the thing, the candles dancing around her. “Show me the mortals who spurned me.”

The black in the crystal glass swirled into a whirlpool, the tiny faces silently screaming in their suffering and the mirror glowed until at last an image appeared in front of the goddess.

The first mortal who came into view through the looking glass was the bride; a lovely maiden of two-and-twenty – too old to be still unwed, but her Ancient mother would only give her daughter’s maidenhood to the highest bidder. That bidder turns out to be Zack Fair, already a legendary warrior who just conquered himself a crown. His marriage to Aerith of the Ancient house Gainsborough would unify their kingdoms like there never was before. The mighty Cloud favored Zack above all mortals and with this wedding, it would once more bring the gods in alignment with the humans. That was why all the deities were invited for this day. No one wanted Lightning there though, no one remembered to send for her honored presence.

The thought angered Lightning beyond belief. Humans of important stations in life were to come too, those who hail from families with wealth and lineage, dear friends and treasured relatives. They would live through an event, meet all the deities that they only knew from temples and stories, except for her.

It was not that Lightning cared for these worthless humans or the foolish gods, but there was a slight that she would not suffer to her person. It was an insult to have every god both high and low regarded to be welcomed but for her. That was a great impertinence she would not forgive.

Resentment grew within Lightning the more she gazed through her magic mirror.

The maiden fair was lovely in white, frolicking through her garden and tending to her flowers while humming to herself. “Lady Aerith!” The sudden voice of her groom caused the maiden to spun away from her plants and gasp in delight.

“Your highness… I-I mean, Zack! You were able to come to me still.” She left her garden forgotten to blush prettily at her betrothed.

Lightning rested her chin in the palm of her hand and rolled her eyes. Was there ever something more odious than young mortals in love?

Zack ginned widely, a perfect row of gleaming white teeth. “I couldn’t leave my sweet lady waiting for very long, now could I?” From behind his back he produced another bush of flowers, roses this time, red as beetroot. “For you, my lady.”

Lightning scoffed aggravatingly at the gesture. How original of him. Mayhaps she should make this less sweet and much more amusing. She stared at the roses through the looking glass, a flower she was all too intimate with. A single word whispered from the goddess and she saw Zack flinch horribly through the mirror. He groaned and upon the flash of pain coursing through him, all the flowers dropped from his grip.

Aerith inhaled sharply at her future husband’s sudden discomfort. “Oh, Zack, what is the matter?!”

“Ouch, ah, I don’t know, I—“ He opened his hand and saw the blood that leaked from the tiny puncture wounds in his palm.

“Gods be good, you’re hurt!” Instantly Lady Aerith fretted over his injured hand, binding it with her handkerchief. “You have to be careful, my lord.”

“I was! I-I don’t know how, I thought that the thorns have been cut. I did it myself!”

Lightning chuckled behind her mirror. Roses can’t be tamed, no more than she can. Re-growing the thorns was child’s play, merely the beginning of her vengeance, and now his blood mingled with the flowers he so thoughtfully plucked for his maiden bride.

Said woman proceeded to clean the wounds for him and in his gratitude, Zack kissed her. They went on talking quietly with each other, strolling through the beautiful gardens. The girl’s betrothed complimented her every passing minute before another voice added itself to their party, calling the name of the young lady.

“I will be with you, Mother!” Aerith looked at her fiancé apologetically. “I have to go. I had to escape many hands to meet you here. Wedding plans never seem to come at an end, I guess.”

Zack laughed warmly, taking the maiden’s hand and kissing her knuckles. “Worry not, my lady. Once we’re wed, we have a lifetime to be together.”

Aerith giggled. “I cannot wait.”

Lightning felt sick to her stomach. She flicked her wrist to the mirror and the image swirled back to the dark crystal glass it first was. Apparently the betrothed are quite happily in love. Who would have thought? A couple bound to be married and in love? That was a rare sight indeed.

She can’t imagine a crueler curse.

A disgusting one as well. She barely tolerated her sister’s happy marriage. Where were the unwanted feelings, the objection, the sense of bitter duty between couples? The absolute turmoil that used to be during a wedding? Marriage for love was a notion as uncommon to humans as it was for the gods. The good old days of miserable distant marriages are gone. Instead, it is going to be a desired wedding, one blessed by both man and god. No wonder they were so happy.

Still, Lightning wondered if this blessing by all the gods was just a stunt Cloud pulled by forcing the hands of the deities beneath him. Surely not all deities were as elated to see this forsaking wedding as the tale seem to suggest, were they?

“Mirror on the wall,” The pink haired goddess started anew. “Show me the Underworld.”

It has been long centuries ago since Lightning even glimpsed into the Underworld, even via her mirror. She had no interest in it nor was she very welcome in the place, but things has changed quite a lot down there the last time she heard about it. The black glass twirled, slowly revealing what Lightning recognized was Tartarus, the river Styx, the confused souls taking the ferry boats provided they could pay, and lastly, the impressive palace where faceless servants carried dresses upon silken dresses through the hallways.

“Which one do you think looks better, Vinnie? The golden one or the white one? I liked the emerald green one but mayhaps I should wear the crimson one, y’know, so we can match!”

The quiet underlord, the most powerful being in the dark world, only sighed tiredly at the bubbly goddess. Vincent just had to fall for the one woman who was everything he is not; obnoxious, loud, young, talkative, incredibly annoying and utterly too light.

“Whatever you choose will be fine, Yuffie.” His baritone voice was deeper and smoother than any other deity in existence. “You look exquisite in all of them.”

Yuffie curled a lock of her short hair around a finger – another attribute opposite of Vincent’s long tresses. “You’re not helping! Everyone is going to be there, Vince, and I do mean everyone! We must dress like the best! I’m sure everyone’s attention will be on Terra or Lenna and I don’t wanna look pale in comparison.”

Yuffie’s careless distress on what to wear to this wedding only made Lightning furious. Even they were going.

Vincent unfolded his arms. “You should not care what anyone think. You are above that, Yuffie.”

“Aw, Vinnie, you just say that because—” Yuffie was interrupted by Vincent’s raised hand, who silenced her immediately. Before another moment had passed, the God of the Underworld looked straight at Lightning.

Startled, the goddess pushed away from her mirror. Did he see her? How was that even possible? The mirror was blown with dark magic lost to the gods. It was supposed to be completely undetectable by lesser deities. And yet Vincent… how did he know? Lightning waved the image away and the mirror faded to black. She shouldn’t have underestimated the power of the God of the Dead.

Still, it did nothing to Lightning’s overgrowing wrath. They were all going to this feast, regardless of element, power or rank. She got up, enraged, pacing her chambers up and down. Unfelt wind made her dress blow about her as a storm gathered in her room. Electric currents split dangerously in the air as she waved at the ornate above her vanity table.

“Mirror on the wall,” She spit between clenched teeth. “Show me Firion. Show me Atlantis. Show me Locke.” It did not matter where Lightning cast her mirror, all the immortals were preparing to attend this vile wedding.

The insult she bore only grew with each second and so did her anger. If only she could destroy that wedding of theirs, just to spoil their enjoyment. She should kill that groom and separate him from his beautiful maiden betrothed by sending him to the land of the death herself. Mayhaps she should unleash one of the monsters on them, just to irk all the gods and goddesses there. Echidna was Lightning’s favorite servant, a terrible beast whose body was half a viper and half a woman, deadly to men and deities alike. Echidna never failed her task. If not her, then she could throw in a naga, a sfinx, a harpy. Anything to ruin their perfect little event.

“Lightning!” Serah had returned, hopefully with news about what was going on and calm the temper that was boiling inside Lightning. Mayhaps she had just been exaggerating all along, mayhaps there was some kind of an error made.

“Light, where are you?” Her lighter sister had taking her time figuring out what was of the matter and her older sis met her in one of the posh sitting room. It was one of Serah’s favorite place to be in Lightning’s silent abode, the other location being the greenhouse build inside. Light’s place was always quiet, for there was no one that accompanied the tempered deity but her roses and Serah. The sitting room was no less deprived of the plants, the blooming flowers were red and wafting up their delicious scent into the air.

When Lightning joined her more harmonious sibling, the invisible storm swirling around her evaporated instantly. Serah’s entire being was warmth and peace, and the younger goddess smiled as soon as her sister joined her.

“Took you long enough.” Lightning crossed her arms. “Were you too busy fitting dresses for the feast?” Just like all the goddesses and humans were doing.

Serah blinked, confused, before she shook her equally pink head. “No, I’ll just wear anything I have available.”

“You want to be underdressed at this exciting party? The likes of Stella and Ashe will be there.” Lightning may hate everyone attending, but she would not have her sister be anything less than gorgeous.

“I care not for that, sister.” Trust Serah not to worry much about vanity. It was one of the many sides to her that Lightning admired.

“What took you, then?”

At this, her sister started to fidget. “When I spoke to Noel about this most unfortunate circumstance that happened to you, he had to call upon one of his, um, acquaintances to get to the bottom of this and… well, he…” She stuttered to a stop, nervously glancing about.

Her behavior didn’t sit well with Lightning. “What? Tell me.”

Serah nodded. “Hey, you can come out now.”

Before Light asked who she was talking to, a purple gem glimmered into existence. From that, a white moogle popped out, its little wings fluttering wildly in the air.

“Oh no, kupo!” It took one gander around and started panicking to Serah. “Why did you bring me, kupo? Do you have any idea where we are! This place is dangerous, a realm of the most foul and its keeper—”

“Is standing right behind you.” Serah finished with somewhat of an apologetic expression.

Mog turned with a frightened kupo towards Lightning, positively trembling. “M-mighty goddess! Ho-how lovely you have b-become!”

Lightning scowled, causing the moogle to quiver under her harsh gaze. “Spare me your false praises.” She directed that same scowl to her sister. “Serah, is there a reason why that thing is here?”

Unlike the moogle, Serah was long since used to Light’s cutting eyes. “His name is Mog, sis, and he’s a Carrier among the gods.”

Lightning eyed the white creature, with its too big head, small eyes and glowing diamond, “Really? It has never brought me anything.”

“K-kupo.”

“That’s not his fault, Light.” Serah reached for Mog, hugging his grotesque head to her chest. “There, there. Lightning won’t hurt you.”

“Don’t lie to it, Serah. I will throw it for the Cyclops if he doesn’t tell me why he’s here.”

With a gentler voice, the younger goddess started. “Mog here supervised the chocobos who were sent out for the human wedding. And… Mog, tell her what you told Noel and I.” When the moogle did nothing but stare and gulp heavily at Lightning, Serah petted his head. “Go on.”

Mog flew out of her endearing hug, floating a tiny bit closer to Lightning, albeit still keeping his distance. “It’s true that you are the only one among the immortals who is not welcome.”

There was a short silence.

"What?!”

Whatever sunlight that was permitted through the windows was gone entirely when dark clouds gathered outside. Thunder claps boomed through the air, angry and full of resentment.

“I-it wasn’t the humans, Y-your Divinity. They claimed all the gods and goddesses were welcome, but so-some of the gods took heed of you, kupopo.”

Lightning’s wrath was so immense, Serah felt she had to cut in before her rage grew out of hand. She put a hand on Lightning’s arm, her skin cool to the touch, the magic around her thick and dark.

“Who?” Her sister hissed, blue eyes spitting fire. “Who had the nerve to exempt me?! I command you to tell me lest I rip you apart myself!”

Her aura alone instilled enough fear in Mog, that the messenger moogle was reduced to a sobbing mess. “It wasn’t just one, Goddess. Queen Tifa, Zidane, p-perhaps Caius, kupo.”

Tifa? Lightning could understand Caius and Zidane. She had a long term feud with Caius that spanned for millenniums now, and Zidane knew first hand of her power. But Tifa? It was to Lightning Tifa came when Zidane and Garnet claimed to harbor a love for one another that was greater than Tifa and Cloud’s. As the king and queen of all mortals and immortals, Tifa didn’t tolerate Zidane and Garnet’s arrogance. It was Lightning she asked to bring wreckage upon the couple to teach them humility. Chaos was Lightning’s forte and destruction her favorite pass time. But with all things great and of immense power, Lightning could only truly be unleashed once in a few centuries.

“I don’t understand, Mog.” Serah interjected softly, seeing her sister seethe. “There are mightier forces there too. The Fates, for example. And the God of W—”

“Of all, they thought her too impulsive!” The moogle cried, pointing at Lightning. “Too unstable and a curse to be at a wedding that has to be blessed, kupo. Please, kupo-po.”

“How dare they?” Lightning’s growl was low, but the winds howled loudly outside the manor walls, the clouds nearly black around them. “The nerve of all of them!” It started to rain, the water drops furiously tapping against the window glass like pebbles thrown from above.

“Lightning…” Serah stepped closer to her sister.

The goddess shrugged her off. “Who gives them the right? They scorn me but they gladly receive the kind of Caius?”

When a lightning bolt flashed in the sky outside and thunder boomed above the house closer than what was safe, Serah knew her sister was overwrought to the point there was no conciliating her.

Mog shivered on the floor. “Kupo! Kupo, kupo, kupokupokupo-”

“Shut up!” Lightning snarled at the moogle. “Be quiet before I kill you.”

“Light, no!” Serah begged her sister. “Please, this is not his doing, don’t hurt him.”

“He sneaks into my realm,”

“I brought him here!”

“Insulted me and my domain,”

“He’s just a moogle, sis, he fears.”

“To tell me I am lesser, lesser than the lowliest of gods, lesser than fucking mortals?” She spit the word as if it was venom.

“Lightning, please, calm down.” The young goddess pleaded, protecting the moogle from the electricity in the air. “I thought you didn’t care for this wedding?”

Vexed, Lightning glared at her. Mostly at the moogle in her arms, but she was displeased with both. “I don’t.” That would be untrue, if she was fair. She wouldn’t have gone to this feast, even if she was asked. That wasn’t the point for her anger though; they didn’t even bother inviting her, scorning her when they did so. “But I will not forgive them this slight upon my name. They will endure my wrath for this, all of them. This, I swear.”

Serah feared for all their wellbeing. It does not bode well for a deity to swear anything, for they keep to their word. And one does not cross Lightning, especially not Lightning.

“Sis, no. You shouldn’t, please.”

There was a time that even Lightning had enough of her sister’s heartfelt pleads. That time was now. “Enough. I want you to leave.”

Serah gasped. Rare were the moments that her powerful sister wished her to leave. “But Lightning—”

“Leave!”

The young deity’s head bowed and the moogle kupo’d pathetically in her arms. Serah sniffed, her thin arms trembling before she disappeared with Mog in a blink of an eye, leaving behind the scent of glowing sunlight.

The infuriated goddess was once again all alone in her manor. The roses on the walls curled away from her, as if they too feared to witness the anger of their mistress. Her fury only grew in her solemnity, with no Serah to ease her and talk her back into a reasonable mood. Everything seemed to anger Lightning now. Just the mere thought of the offense the gods paid her, the betrayal of Tifa, the unassuming mortals – even her sister, who always took their side, always defended anyone who crossed Lightning. Serah was no hair better than the rest.

That wasn’t true, she conceded immediately in her thoughts. Serah was a pacifist who loved everything that was balanced and peaceful. She was not like them. It was one of Lightning’s habit to keep everyone at arm’s length, even her sweet sister. That was Lightning's nature, but she wasn’t incapable of love. The gods and humans had that one trait in common; they were all weak in the matters of the heart.

Lightning huffed, heading towards her chamber to bathe and dress for the evening. Outside, the storms continued hailing wind and rain and thunder. Darkness fell inside the windows and many of the roses upon the walls and statues closed into buds once more. Like clockwork, the spells cast on the chandeliers and torches in their golden scones came to life by themselves.

When Lightning arrived in the lounging chamber, she was freshly bathed, but no less mad. She allowed herself to dress lazily into a robe instead of a dress. A robe made of the richest linen with sagged sleeves that nearly reached the floor and a long trail that dragged behind her. She wasn’t in the mood to dress herself entirely underneath it. Her sister wouldn’t return to her tonight and if she didn’t, then no one will.

The giant fireplace in front of her was doused, but it took only a pointed stare for the hearth to lit itself with warm flames. The fire danced, sparked and the wood inside cracked, illuminating the figures that were carved around the mantelpiece. A Kline was awaiting her presence, a furniture that was a half-breed combination of a sofa and a bed. The side-table was empty save for the crystal canteen and a sapphire crusted goblet. As the goddess lounged on her chaise, the canteen floated into the air, filling the goblet next to it with a shimmering thick liquid.

There was a cry of a beast resonating outside her manor walls, no doubt disliking the storm that continued raging on and on outside. Lightning took a sip of the ambrosia, mayhaps the drink could calm her down and thus also the storms, but it did not seem to help this time. Quietly, she fumed and tried to form plans in her head on how to abolish that famous wedding for all who are involved. Regardless of her spite, she couldn’t just unleash any of her monstrous servants in the middle of the reception feast. Serah was still among them, after all. No, this vengeance of hers had to be intimate, emotionally scarring, making them all rue the decision of excluding her.

The fire in the chimneypiece sparked violently, dancing wildly before strangely settling to its previous form. It caught Lightning’s attention however. The fire felt different now, the music of it had changed. The flames singing a tune that was unfamiliar and mystifying. She willed it to quiet down, but the fire refused her command. Smoke leaked out of it instead, first in small wisps but the quantity of it increased. Black smoke rising and filling Lightning’s lounging chamber until it covered all of the floor like a carpet.

Stranger still were her roses on the walls, that bloomed from their buds once the caliginous smoke touched them, as if it was the light itself. Her flowers didn’t regard the mist as danger, which was the reason Lightning remained calmly and slowly put her goblet filled with the divine drink aside. From the hearth, the smoke was the thickest, no longer simply onyx. The flames revealed that there was red within the smoke, glowing like rubies in coal dust.

And from that dark mist, a god emerged.

Lightning did not recognize him, at least, not immediately. He was young, undoubtedly younger than her. His toga was as black as his hair, like the mist that clung about him. The upper part of his body was bare, smoke and shadows danced over the muscles of his stomach and chest. Her eyes flicked briefly over his chest and abdomen. Briefly, but appreciatively. His features were aristocratic, refined, and although handsome, she could see conceit in the manner of his poise. There was also something incredibly black in the corner of his irises, something as ominous as the smoke he’s engulfed in.

She wondered who he was more so than why he was here. The clasp that bound his toga over his left shoulder depicted a weapon; a sword. Nothing came to mind as she looked it, no particular deity that she connected it with.

Neither did he utter a word once he revealed himself completely, except for to look at her. His eyes were typically blue – most deities took to this eye color safe for a few, but his expression was unrevealing. He stared at her from head to heel, lingering idly on her bare leg that parted her robes.

Lightning moved and so did the direction of his gaze, shifting back up to her face, fierce and daring. It was only when she noticed the cuff of a broken chain around his left wrist that Lightning knew who he was.

The goddess sat upright, immediately cautious. “What brings the God of War to my doorstep?”

He blinked, slowly, ethereal. “Lightning,” Her name had never sounded as suave by any man’s voice. “I need you.”

“Right.” That was quite up front of him. It was obvious that he wanted something from her, though no god or goddess ever showed itself unannounced in her domain. And if they did come requesting her services, none ever came without payment. “For what, precisely?”

The corner of his lips twitched. “War.”

That caused her to snort unflatteringly. How blunt of him. “You’re the very embodiment of it. Why would you need me?”

“There has been no cause for neither humans nor gods to declare it.” He started his conversation as if he had been with her for hours before. In fact, he was rather blunt about it. “Peace makes me useless.”

Lightning scoffed cynically. “You searching for a reason to entertain yourself?”

He wasn’t amused. “My motives are beyond just a passing fancy.” He knew that she didn’t permanently dwelled in her domain here because she wanted to. This realm was her cage. And he knew the insufferable feeling of imprisonment. “As should be yours.”

The goddess didn’t seem convinced at the slightest. “Why search it by me then?”

“Fish can’t swim without water.” The dark god eyed the crystal canteen holding the ambrosia. She didn’t know whether he wanted to drink it all – for it was very addictive – or throw its content all over the floor by the way he was looking at it. “No war can commence without a cause.”

She would be lying if she said that this immortal didn’t somewhat piqued her interest. She inspected her nails nonchalantly. “Remind me again the name given to you. You’ve been away for so long, it slipped my mind.”

The young god glanced down at his left wrist. The first true expression broke his unreadable façade when he glared at the broken chain before he could hide it. “Noctis.”

Dark as the night, as black as that essence in his eyes.

He proceeded on without pause. “I heard you were not welcome to the mortal Fair-Gainsborough wedding.”

Intrigued Lightning had been the moment he appeared, but as soon as he uttered those words, the spell was broken and fury filled her once more tenfold. Another thunderclap boomed loudly outside her house, causing Noctis to look up and back to her, witnessing first hand of all her cold hatred.

“Unbelievable.” She spit angrily. “Does everyone know? Do mortals and gods alike mock me everywhere that even you heard of it, in whichever pit hole they threw you in?”

His eyes narrowed sharply when she mentioned his imprisonment. “You swore vengeance on them all, didn’t you?”

She told Serah so earlier that day and her sister left sniffling. “You eavesdrop on conversations as well as entering ones abode uninvited?”

He shrugged, a movement so simple looked positively dangerous when done by him. “I pay attention to declarations of hatred. Specifically coming from you.”

Lightning finally took to her feet, the hundreds of roses on the wall snapped to alertness when she did so. On her full height, she looked straight at the god’s collarbones, and in order not to let her gaze slip further down his physique, she turned towards her canteen and refilled her goblet with the glimmering ambrosia drink.

“Should I feel honored? Doesn’t the likes of you associate with Stella?” Goddess of Love was but an euphemism Stella likes to call herself, to justify the whoring she does all around. Goddess of Sluts is a more apt title for her, a married woman no less. Despite all that, there were very few men who resisted her and a young God of War wasn’t one of them.

“I’m done fucking her.” There was menace in his voice, a silent tension that heeded ire. “There’s a score I need to settle with all the gods. Her included.” He looked at Lightning then. Whenever the firelight caught in his eyes they had the same color as the deepest depths of an ocean. “Just like you.”

The goddess should have asked him how long he had been listening to her conversations with her sister to fall in right at the proper time. How he knew, how he managed to do that? And how did he even find her? Her vestige was ever moving, never on the same place it had been a minute ago, invisible within the clouds and sealed.

But she didn’t care to ask him. It seemed pointless to know when he was standing in front of her. “Aren’t you wasting your time by coming to me? You should just cause some havoc on that holy wedding. You’re invited, right?”

“I am.”

That notion only pissed her off more. No one was fond of this deity and yet they deigned to welcome him and not her?

“Then you should go, kill half the party guests.” She turned away from him with an endearing scoff. “And leave me be.”

He would have left, if the very sight of her didn’t entice him. “I thought you’d be up for more sport than that.”

“You assume.” The goddess shot back. “How would you know I’m up for any such thing?”

Noctis eyed the growing roses around them, each blooming red and full and lovely. “I haven’t heard of your existence sooner… that must mean you’ve been within this realm here for, how long?”

Her eyebrow twitched. “No longer than they have imprisoned you.”

“I guess.” He commented nonchalantly. He pretended like his imprisonment was nothing, but Lightning could see the irritation in his mannerism. “Since they went through pains to snub you from their party.”

She rose angrily, blowing by him out of the lounging chamber, leaving her robe to flow after her in the rush of magic and fury. She didn’t need to hear him put more insult to her injury. Unperturbed, he only followed closely behind her.

“I’ll ask you for the last time,” She huffed, hearing her roses swoon and sing as the God of War passed them. “Why are you here?”

His voice sounded smug and close. “I want to demolish their feast just as much as you do. You and I have no reason to like any single guest there. So why won’t we blast that wedding of theirs apart?”

That does sounded like music in her ears. It was something she wanted to do beforehand, didn’t she? When she turned back to him, he was no more than two feet away from her, Persian blue eyes glowing darkly.

“Fine.” Lightning regarded him suspiciously, crossing her arms. “Tell me first why you want to do this with me?”

He cocked his head sideways, scrutinizing her carefully for a second too long. “I imagine we could help each other to get what we want.”

“What makes you so certain I want to participate in this?”

He chuckled, turning to one of her roses. They were delighted with his attention on them, craving for his touch with moans and keening. Upon contact, the single rose flowered and turned completely black. “There’s dark ambitions in everyone.”

“Right.” He drew his power from those dark ambitions, did he? So did she. “If I do this, what’s in it for me?”

“Revenge.” Noctis assured her with an obscure smile. “And if it goes right, war.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “And what’s in it for you?”

“War.” The corner of Noct’s lips lifted more. “And if it goes right, revenge.”

She neared him slowly. She found it interesting that despite him always finding some kind of reason to be close to her, when she did it to him in return he tensed. She didn’t miss the tendon of strength running down his arm but he didn’t stop her once she stepped in his proximity. He held a healthy amount of mistrust for her.

She would strike a deal with him, but only because she saw profit in it for herself.

“Tell me true or we’re not going through with this.” Lightning spoke against his collarbone. “You have no other particular reason to search for my aid to get what you want, do you?”

“They say there’s no war without chaos.” Noctis soon got over whatever issue he had with her nearness and he touched her, smirking. “Wouldn’t you want to prove if that is true?”

The smile she gave him convinced him he had won her to his side. “Return to me on the morrow then.”

~Ω~

Serah didn’t visit her sister the next day. Neither did Lightning search for her presence nor look through her mirror for her sibling. Whenever there was conflict between the two – more often than not considering Lightning’s nature – her little sister would give her the time and space she needed to cool down. The younger goddess would spend time with her husband or actually went about answering the prayers of humans from the good of her heart.

Lightning didn’t get any prayers. Not much at least, for who would seek for chaos? No, they only offered sacrifices in her name to appease her; the blood of a lamb, a bull, or gold and precious metal to keep her at bay.

No amount of sacrifices would save them now.

Lightning wouldn’t be caught unawares again once Noctis came tonight. He wouldn’t find her clad in nothing but her robe. The dress abound her body fitted her like a glove and nearly see through if not for the lace-knitted roses on the cloth. Its length was long enough to hide her bare feet, as long as the magic around her doesn’t blow the skirt about her legs.

She wasn’t dressing up for him in particular, she told herself, she just didn’t like being underdressed in front of any stranger. She got so few guests as it is.

She wondered where the God of War would appear again, whether fire was his means of transportation from one place to another. As she would soon figure out, Noctis didn’t need a fireplace to appear somewhere. It was the atramentous smoke that was the signal, it puffed up from the ground in the middle of her bedchamber. Lightning could hear her roses sigh in delight to be reunited with the dark mist that came with him.

He stepped out of the mist like he was walking through the door. He looked the same as yester night; his toga black, his eyes a dark blue and the broken shackle clung softly against the cufflink when he moved his left wrist.

“You’re late.” She told him.

His eyes slid over her slowly from top to floor and she didn’t know whether his smirk was either because he liked what he saw or because he was amused with his next statement. “I’ve been told I was never punctual.”

Either way, Lightning didn’t like it. Brazenly, she put her hand one her hip. “Yeah, I heard you tend to lose the track of time once imprisoned.”

That wiped the look of amusement from his face. A shadow flashed over his face and she might have glimpsed a flicker of a color in his eyes. “If you mention that despicable place one more time—”

“You’ll do what?” Lightning’s roses seemed to sense the danger for the young god, but she wasn’t perturbed by him. He did not have the power or the virility to hurt her. “Kill me? I’d like to see you try.”

He frowned darkly at her, a look that conveyed what exactly he wanted to do with her and it certainly wasn’t pleasant.

Lightning let the look slide off her, unimpressed with his troubles. “It is not I who had thrown you in there.”

“No,” He straightened, seemingly calmer after having acquiesced with her reasoning. “You are not.”

It was her turn to smirk slyly at him. “But I do know how to get back at them for what they did to you.”

The step Noctis took closer to her was on impulse. He seemed suddenly elated with the fact that she kept up her side of the deal. The darkness Lightning had seen from the very first moment she met him, hidden somewhere deep in the corners of his navy blue irises, vanished with the thrill of excitement. She was surprised how quick his countenance shifted.

“How?” He asked, voice lighter but every tendon in his body stood on edge. “How are we going to do this?”

Oh, it’s we already? “Let me show you.” She wasn’t sure if he caught the ghost of a smile on her lips before she turned away from him. She hadn’t asked him to follow, but she felt – more than saw – Noctis fall into step with her.

Her roses didn’t occupy all the walls in her manor. They grew ahead of wherever she was going, blooming red and huge, singing a song only the goddess could hear, begging for her attention as she passed them by. This time they weren’t as attentive to her as they were obsessed over the new stranger who followed the goddess around. Lightning knew her flowers had an affinity for guests – they liked to be admired – but the sweet sighs they omitted at the sight of the god was an infatuation. It wasn’t sunlight they craved or a touch from their mistress, but the black mist that accompanied Noctis as if it was his shadow.

The corridors of her manor were silent, save for the sound of sandal-clad feet on the limestone floor. The god’s steps echoed loudly through the hallway, for Lightning’s own remained unheard.

She could feel Noctis’s eyes on as he walked but a single step behind her. Her senses tingled from the length of her neck down her back and below. From what she could tell, his gaze roamed over her their whole journey through. Mayhaps her dress was doing its job.

“Where are we going?” His voice was closer behind her than she calculated, but she willed herself to remain calm.

“You’ll see.”

The greenhouse within her manor was big and wide enough for half a field of corn to grow in. True to its name, everything was green and growing inside; the grass was soft underfoot when Lightning stepped on it. The hem of her dress blew softly around her ankles in the wind that didn’t exist, making sprits of grass and foliage tickle up her legs.

The vegetables and plants in her greenhouse were the only things that didn’t answer to any of Lightning’s calls. Unlike her roses, who were part of Lightning’s essence; there was no difference between her and her flowers. Grass, vegetables, trees and all the other greenery weren’t part of Lightning’s heed. It wasn’t her nature to grow or command them, but she kept them purely for nourishment. Albeit deities had no need for any consumption of such kind except ambrosia. The liquor was enough to sustain them, but the gods liked the taste of food as well, Lightning included.

The care of these plants were mostly Serah’s doing too. Lightning didn’t have a green thumb nor did she have very much patience to handle things she can’t command to grow by magic. So she left the business to her younger sibling. The greenhouse being one of the places in the manor Serah liked to spend the most time in, if she came over.

When Noctis got into the greenhouse, the feeling in the very air changed. It was as if the plants took an aversion to his presence, their reaction opposite of her roses, who were too attracted to him. The few bees and butterflies scattering away instantly when they felt his added presence in the greenhouse.

The repulsion in his tone indicated he didn’t like the garden much. “What are we doing here?” He wrinkled his nose, as if the very lush and peaceful surrounding disgusted him.

Lightning turned to him with eyes as green as the grass beneath her. “Did you know revenge is like a fruit? It needs to grow and the longer the time to ripen, the sweeter it is when plucked.”

“I don’t have a long time.” He was impatient. And impatience went hand-in-hand with rashness. “You told me we had a plan!”

“I do.” She blinked at him, once more astonished that he had already included the two of them as a team, even though she was the one doing all the planning. “A fruit needs a seed to grow from.” She smirked at him, silent and unpredictable. “Give me one of your swords.”

The stare he gave her was sharp. “No.” He wouldn’t trust her with a weapon, least of all with one of his own.

“Do you want to go through with this or not?” When he hesitated, she asked again. “Give me your sword.”

He contemplated a moment longer, a battle of staring ensued between the two of them. They say that every immortal has its secrets and the act of war is clearly Noctis’s. How he does it, was part of his being. With what he creates it, was one of his secrets. Lightning wouldn’t have minded at all if he disappeared altogether to fetch one of his swords where she didn’t see him, but he didn’t. The atmosphere around them turned cold instead, the temperature dropping significantly. The black mist of his reappearing thickly and with intensity. And stars popped up all around them. Small glistering stones that first floated softly in the air, but then they all started to whirl in a circle about, faster and faster until a shield of stars formed around them.

When Lightning dared a glimpse of him, his eyes were glowing a crimson as red as the deep fires of a volcano. He raised a hand, and the stars gathered to materialize into a sword.

The steel gleamed dangerously, the curving blade still smoking stardust and black mist, both beckoning Lightning’s attention to it. She could practically feel the spells woven into the blade and hear it hissing vehemently in a dead tongue that even the gods did not understand. Titan’s talk, most likely. Such a rare and precious sword it must be, one of the most powerful weapons both in the heavens as on earth. A sword made with forbidden spells woven of stars and crystal and dead tongues, the blade must have been forged in the blood of titans. Such creatures were no more, and if this sword was true, it was both lethal as it is ancient.

Lightning wondered how many battles were won with this sword, how many throats were slit with it, how much blood it drank. And how it came in the possession of this young god. He wielded it as if he was born with it, the sword perfectly poised in his grip. It was a weapon made for war, capable of slaying immortals and men alike.

Lightning wanted it. “Give it to me.”

He didn’t. “What are you going to do with it?”

She shouldn’t toy with this. It could irreparably damage her, but its power was too potent for her to resist.

“Plant a seed.”

The dark god hesitated. The sword was powerful enough to destroy even him and in the hands of such a goddess, whose nature was unreliable at best, who knows what she’ll do with it. But her eyes were green and eager, warm and bodacious. He saw no mischief in them, no sense of betrayal.

Noctis handed her the sword.

Lightning lifted his favorite weapon like it weighed as light as a feather. In her hand, the sword looked abnormally huge, but there was something alluring to the picture of her holding it. He could feel her hands on the hilt, gripping the leather snugly. Her touch was cool, her fingers slender, her hold strong but tender.

He and his sword were one.

She did the most unexpected when she turned the razor sharp edge to her wrist and cut her own flesh apart. Noctis was forced to withheld a gasp, but couldn’t help himself when he staggered backwards. That was the last thing he’d thought she would do, cutting herself with his sword. The thrill of it made his eyes leak crimson once more, everything about her suddenly enhanced when he looked at her. He was more aware of her being than ever before, with her essence on his blade. Her blood – ichor as the humans called it – was translucent like, silvery and gold, thickly filled with magic.

It was one thing to have humans’ blood on the point of his weapon, it was something else to have immortals life’s essence spilled by his sword.

He could taste her on his tongue as his blade tastes her blood and there was much to be said from that alone. He breathed as her, he felt her power, much and more immense than he gave her credit for. He could also feel a darkness within her; the destruction that made her entity, the instability. There was also a lighter part of her being. That lightness wasn’t part of her core, he saw now. She was chaotic and uncontrolled under that thin surface of hers, and the more calmer, restrained part she contained was taught to her by someone else, not born with it. He wondered who forced her to know that discipline? Who enclosed her like that?

He wanted to know just to see the look on their faces when she was released. He would be looking forward to the day he could break all those barriers down of Lightning’s and unleash her on the world.

The pink haired goddess quietly hissed to herself when the blade cut into her wrist. She knew she had to expect pain – they weren’t very much accustomed to it, being deities – and she knew that a magic sword as his would hurt, but this excruciating torture was something else. She was surprised she didn’t cry out and curl into herself, for the pain was blinding, but she managed to keep herself together.

A breath was all it took to convince herself the pain would eventually ebb away and she concentrated on the task at hand. It was her blood she needed, so she held her pulsating wrist above a patch of lively grass. Her golden blood dripped to the ground, the earth sucking it like it was water. For a moment, the earth glowed and then all went still.

Lightning returned the ancient sword back to its owner. Noctis eyed it as if it was unfamiliar to him. The goddess’ lifeblood was still wet on the edge, gleaming provocatively against the steel of the blade. It made him feel alive.

He didn’t disperse his sword yet, knowing that if he did, all of it would be cleansed. He turned to Lightning with it still in his hand. “That’s it?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, green eyes flecked with fire. “Now, we wait.”

He didn’t want to wait. “The wedding is over two days. We have no time for waiting. We should be discussing which of your mangled foul beasts we should send to that assemble to rip half of the attendees to pieces!”

She liked the way he thought, but that wouldn’t be the way they were going to do it, this time. “As much as I would like that, I preferred to do things more… subtle this time.”

“I didn’t know you did subtle.”

“As I see that you have no patience.”

Noctis presented her with a red-eyed glare. “I didn’t know you had the virtue of patience either.”

“In any other circumstance, I wouldn’t.” She shrugged, owing up to herself that she wanted to do the very same and send one of her servants to end that joyous wedding in catastrophe. “But trust me, it’ll be worth that wait.”

Trust me, she said. Did he trust her? She was chaos personified, he had every reason to doubt her. She was powerful and as beautiful as her roses that grew around her, but even beautiful flowers can have a poisonous fragrance. But he will. Trust her, that is. With everything. She just spilled her own blood for the execution of their plan.

“What will come of your blood?” If he concentrated hard enough, he can still see the ichor glimmering between the grass.

She glanced at it with sparkling blue eyes. “It’ll grow.”

Into what, he wondered? “Once that thing has grown then,” Noctis pointed to the patch of earth, hoping it’ll grow fast. “What do you plan to do with it?”

The right corner of her mouth lifted. “We give it away, of course.”

“How? And who are we giving it to?”

She silently beckoned him out of the greenhouse, leaving the place behind them once more. He commanded his sword to return to its place among the stars before following her. As soon as he was gone, the bees, butterflies, dragonflies and ladybugs returned to buzzing and flying about, particularly surrounding the patch with the magical blood.

They returned to her bedchamber, an elegant room of itself. The tapestries that hung about, where her roses didn’t grow over them, were painted with the beauty of mankind. Of death and passion, which would romantically go well together. Her four poster bed was hid behind drawn drapes that held light and sight without. He wondered if she hid someone in there, a lover she took while he wasted away in that hole they put him in.

It wasn’t the bed the goddess floated towards, much to his utter disappointment, but to her vanity table opposite of it. Jars and pots containing crèmes and powders were neatly arranged on the flat surface of the table. She didn’t open a single one of them when she stood next to the furniture.

The dress on her body stilled and hung around her quietly when she looked back at him. “You wanted to know how? Here’s your answer.” She waved at the vanity beside her.

Was she mocking him? “What?”

It was as if she knew that he wouldn’t understand, so she signaled for him to come closer before pointing at the great black looking glass that was up against the wall above the table.

“Mirror on the wall,” She whispered in a voice as soft as flickering fire in the wind. “Show me the weakest of them all.”

The magic that surged both from her and the looking glass was addicting. Like a magnet, Noctis was drawn to her immediately. He was a weak god, the time of his imprisonment reduced him so, and the longing he felt was for her power, to have it for his own.

The black mirror misted into grey, twirling together like a whirlpool before an image was seen. It was vague at first, but it quickly became clearer. The mirror showed the inside of a palace; the floors were of ivory marble, the walls a mosaic of depicted gods and colors. There was a rectangle knee-deep pool in the middle of it all, supposedly filled with blessed holy water. Then the people appeared; they were humans. A singer was playing on a lyre while six scarcely dressed maidens were bathing in the pool. Their linen dresses were soaked and left very little to the imagination as it clung to their bodies and they giggled among each other. Perfumed slaves walked around serving fresh fruit on glass platters, waiting upon the wet maidens in the pool and the one young man who was with them.

That young man was in the height of his youth, rich, good looking and of royal birth. On cushions of velvet and stuffed goose feathers, he was lazily enjoying the sight of the maidens in the pool. Every time a slave besides him served him a grape, he chewed absentmindedly while eyeing the nipples through the wet dresses of the maidens. The girls didn’t mind his gaze, for they were entertaining him. They said something in their human tongue and the young man laughed loudly, boisterously, almost awkwardly. The maidens giggled along with him.

Lightning’s mirror closed in on the face of the young man. His hair was blond and his sun-kissed skin made him handsome if not outstanding.

The goddess misliked the look of him instantly. “Do you know who he is?” She asked Noctis, who was standing behind her, too closely. She could feel the warmth of him at her back.

“That is Tidus,” His voice was right behind her ear when he spoke. “Prince of Troje.”

“He will be the one that will give you want you want.” When Lightning turned towards him, they were nearly nose to nose. “War.”

Noctis had not forgotten what Tidus’s forefather did to him. His descendant will pay for his ancestor’s actions. “He is weak.”

“So are you.” She answered him, knowing that he wouldn’t like it if she pointed it out.

Red eyes glaring down the bridge of his nose at her. “It’s his father who has the power. It’s him you need.”

“No. The mirror never lies.” Lightning glanced over her shoulder at the laughing image of Tidus. “It’s the prince. He’ll be the key that undoes them.” She wanted to cross her arms, but doing so would make her brush against him.

Noctis eyed her cheekily when he saw that she noticed their distance. “How do you know for certain?”

He was too close to her for far too long, so she pursed her lips and when she blew, a hard gust of wind physically pushed Noctis an acceptable distance away from her that left him bewildered. The look on the God of War’s face was intimidating and she would have been more bothered if she didn’t know how little power he beheld.

“The only creatures who are more vain than humans are the gods.” She looked at him stoutly. “And the only creatures more greedy than the gods are humans.” She made a backhanded gesture to her mirror, where the vision of Tidus fondling the breast of a maiden faded into the black looking glass it once was. “You only have to unravel one to gain utter chaos.”

Noctis smirked at the goddess in front of him, enjoying the sight of seeing the first wall that held her back crumbling away.

~Ω~

He eyed the unusual tree with amazement. “How did you do this?”

He had promised to return the next day again to see the progress of their brooding plans hatch, one day before the famous wedding. He was skeptic when he left, thinking that whatever Lightning had in mind wasn’t going to work in time. But he made himself return, if not for their vengeance then for her, and he couldn’t half believe his eyes when he came back to her greenhouse.

The tree that had rooted in the place where she had leaked her blood stood taller than they were. It had grown overnight as if decades had passed. Noctis assumed it was because of her power, the immense amount of it that she kept at bay.

“Not just I,” Lightning said. “My blood couldn’t have simply produced this. It was due to your sword as well,” She looked at him. “Your power.”

“Both of our mights, combined?” There was an eagerness in him that wanted to know what else they could create with their powers over time.

“Yours and mine.” She confirmed with a look that stole his breath.

There grew but one fruit from the tree. A single piece of fruit. It was still small and was long from being ripe, but still, the temptation it omitted was unlike anything Noctis had ever felt before. He wanted to pluck it himself and keep it, but he knew Lightning would use it for their cause. She caressed the immature fruit in her palm, her slim fingers curling around it. Jealousy coursed through the god. He was jealous because she was holding the fruit and not him. That’s how strong the magic of it was.

Lightning didn’t pluck it from its stem, for it still wasn’t ripe yet. “It’ll be sweet soon.”

Noctis’s throat was dry. “What are you going to do with it?”

“It’s a gift.” The pink haired goddess didn’t seem like she was at all affected by it. “You’ll see. Are you going to the wedding?”

Noctis glared at the broken shackle on his left hand. “No.” Everyone who chained him would be there and the rest resented him enough to find enjoyment in his past misfortune.

“Oh, but you should.” Lightning’s melodic voice convinced him otherwise with a teasing quirk to her rose colored lips. “You’ll miss the party if you don’t.”

~Ω~

Tidus stumbled into the garden, wine spilling from his cup as he tripped over his feet. He may be slightly intoxicated, but not by much. He felt too euphoric to be completely wasted.

What a wonderful time to be alive! The gods were mightier than his puny mind could ever imagine. And the goddesses the most beautiful beings he had ever had to pleasure to witness. The walls really don’t do any of them justice. Each goddess beheld more beauty than the other, he really couldn’t pick the loveliest of them all if his life depended on it! It’s a grace that the bride didn’t mind her own inferior beauty, for though Aerith was a picture herself, she was outdone by many female immortals in the room.

Tidus was drunk on more than just wine. He was drunk on life itself. He may have a lovesick virus on all the deities within the hall and he acted like a lovesick puppy around them too. His father had warned him to act properly in the presence of the gods, but one look at Cloud, and Tidus fell all over himself. How many humans can boost that they met the almighty and famous Cloud in their lifetime?

Life was good, life was swell, life was surreal, and what better way to celebrate the highlights of life but with sweets and drink? When he started laughing too loudly at the jests of Wakka, Jecht had taken the goblet of wine right out of his son’s hand and told him to go clear his head outside, lest he made a fool of himself. Tidus complied easily enough, not wanting his father to scold him in front of the otherworldly beings. So he took his way towards the lonely garden outside. Although, before he was out, he made sure his father didn’t see him when he snatched another cup filled with sweet summer wine, to sip on as he pretended to get sober outdoors.

The garden was completely empty, for all the important party guests were still inside. Only a few wood nymphs were frolicking in the greenery. Tidus had never seen a nymph before of any kind. The drawings and statues he’d seen of them were of beautiful women, walking about half naked with wood harps or lyres in their hands, either serving the gods or bringing unsuspecting men to some kind of doom. Though these nymphs were pretty, they had the appearance of children, were no bigger than his hand, wore dresses made of leafs and floated around with an ethereal glow about them. From afar, one might mistake them for fireflies.

They still lured Tidus towards them, as he drank from his cup and stupidly grinned after them. The sun had long since set and night had fallen. With a bright full moon, shining stars and glowing nymphs all around him, Tidus had no lack of vision. Nightingales sung their lovely songs in the trees and crickets only joined them in making the evening music. Flowers opened and blossomed whenever a nymph touched them, breathing life into plants that should be asleep. Violets blew in the night wind, lilies drooped in the light of the moon. The air smelled of olives and figs, while the grass welcomed him warmly like a carpet beneath him.

And a frog croaked Tidus’s name behind some reeds.

Or at least, he thought it was a frog. In his semi-drunken stupor he tried to follow where the sound of his name came from and found the frog in a small pond that was hidden behind tall weeds. The frog he thought he heard was comically sitting upon a pond leaf. Its round yellow eyes darting each in an opposite direction. Its cheeks puffed when it croaked again at the sight of Tidus’s giant figure looming above him.

The young prince smiled, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t call me, did you?”

The frog cocked his head, horizontal black pupils zooming in on him before it jumped and disappeared into the murky water. The night turned was quiet. Tidus couldn’t hear the crickets anymore, no birds singing in the wind.

Strange, he thought, turning back to find the party again. He had enough fresh air to make him hear things.

Behind him, he suddenly met face to face with a woman.

Startled, he gasped loudly, not expecting in the least someone to have walked up on him, considering he didn’t hear anyone. He tripped again, landing with his feet in the ankle deep pond.

“The frog didn’t call you.” The stranger said with a voice as suave as cream. “I did.”

“W-who are you?” Tidus couldn’t say that she scared him, but she certainly surprised him with her random appearance. “You’re a goddess.” He added quickly after closer scrutiny.

He couldn’t recognize her. He had never seen her likeness anywhere. She was an immortal though, that much was a fact. The unearthly flawless of hers confirmed that she was no mere human. That lead up to the question of which deity she was? Granted, Tidus had never paid much attention to his studies. Preferring to go hunting or playing sports to impress girls. He would have remembered the drawing of this goddess if he ever saw her, because she was exceptionally gorgeous.

Gaping, he stared at the rose haired immortal standing in front of him, in a white dress, a color that made her look innocent which clashed stunningly with her eyes and hair. Completely made of lace her dress was, and was sinfully snug on her body. The piercing look in her emerald green eyes froze Tidus on the spot like stone, as if she was Medusa herself.

The prince swallowed thickly, mesmerized by her appearance, he took a trembling step towards her. “Who are you, lovely goddess?”

Her long lashes blinked. “I am…” She looked into the direction of the temple, where the reception feast was still raging. “…Not invited.”

“What?” He thought that all the deities from far and wide were welcomed to come to Aerith and Zack’s wedding ceremony. “Why not?”

She raised her shoulders, a simple gesture that somehow made her all the more attractive.

Maybe she didn’t get the notion on time, but Tidus wasn’t going to let the goddess slip away unnoticed like this. “But if you will, join me. And I’ll tell you all about my favorite water sport and how dolphins once joined me in my play.” It was a tale he always told to enchant the ladies towards him and they were mostly fascinated to hear it. Whether they came with him because they were really interested in his story or because he was a rich young prince, that was up for debate.

The goddess in front of him didn’t fall for it in the slightest. She stared at him aloofly, not very interested. He should have known that the bait he used to trap silly maidens wouldn’t work on an immortal.

She sighed. “I would rather not.”

“Oh, but you must!” Tidus grinned charmingly, or at least, tried to. “All the pretty goddesses are within and you would fit right in! Please, come with me?” He raised his hand as an invitation for her to take. He was positively excited by the prospect that he would return to the feast leading such a phenomenal looking deity on this side. And what would Jecht say about that? Tidus couldn’t wait to see the stupefied look on his father’s face. Ha!

She cocked her head to the prince instead. A tsk in her tone. “But I’m not the most beautiful goddess there, am I?”

Tidus paused, not knowing how she came to this conclusion. The goddess in front of him was breathtakingly dazzling, but he would be lying if he said that she was truly the loveliest of all the deities at the party. “…Eh,”

“Who would you choose?” She insisted, her blue eyes gleaming like mountains of ice. “Who would you pick as the most gorgeous of them all?”

“I—I,” Tidus stuttered. “I don’t know…” He backed away, instantly insecure.

The goddess grabbed his hand, however, the same hand he held up for her in the first place. Her fingers were unnaturally cool, her touch sending a jolt of unexplainable electricity through his body. Her skin was pale compared to his tanned tone, glistering softly in the light of the moon as she held on to him.

Lightning smiled, producing the fruit from thin air and dropped it in his open palm.

The blond prince peered at the apple with wide eyes, as it was no ordinary one. It was entirely made of crystal and gilded, unlike anything he had ever seen before. There was a song coming from it that hypnotized him, not allowing him to look away from it.

“Give it to her whom you deem worthy.” Lightning whispered from behind him. Which should have alarmed Tidus, because but a second ago she was standing in front of him, but he didn’t seem to pay attention.

He did not see her, because the golden apple in his hand struck him senseless like it was nothing real.

“Go,” Lightning pushed the foolish mortal towards the temple. “And decide who is truly the most beautiful of them all.”

The last Tidus remembered of her was the knives hidden in her voice as he stumbled towards the party with the apple.

~Ω~

The feast was flowing smoothly, with gentle music and sweets and singers. The guests were mingling well together and the newlyweds looked very much in love. Noctis, though, hated the very sight of everyone at the reception party. None of them had deigned to acknowledge his presence, except for the mortals, who paid their homage with little civility at best. They feared his man-slaughtering reputation too much to disrespect him, but no one welcomed him warmly either. Save for Aerith Gainsborough, whose gentle character was the only one who graced him with a genuine smile.

Cloud ignored him, and thus all the other deities as well. He saw Terra sending him a cutting eye from across the hall when she first saw him, but afterwards she as well pretended he wasn’t there. As a malevolent god, Noctis was no one’s friend. Men and immortals alike were pondering on the question as to why he would come to the celebration in the first place. A wedding was no place for a God of War. Neither was it for gods like Vincent and Kuja, who had no real business here either, but none treated them with the disregard they were treating him.

That aside, the invitation did say that all the gods and goddesses were welcomed, even though Noctis knew that message wasn’t entirely true.

The mortals didn’t waste their opportunity to praise Cloud and Tifa of every glory, supposedly the mightiest of all gods and goddesses, leaving the lesser deities in want for attention.

Noctis didn’t give a shit. He had no need for their flattery if he was just sitting here not doing what he does best. He was content enough for now, to just sit in this desolated corner drinking high quality wine in his lonesome. Even the slaves were apprehensive to approach him. Probably afraid he would just slay them where they stood for his own amusement.

As tempting as that might be, he wasn’t here for that. In fact, he would not have come at all if the goddess of discord didn’t tell him that he should. He still wished he hadn’t, for there were people he didn’t wish to see. Stella being one of them, as she flaunted around at the party, turning heads of all men towards her wherever she went. She was showered with courtesy and compliments on how she looked all the time, but today she took extra care to look more fabulous than usual. As much as the sight of all the deities angered him, he could not deny that he missed Stella. She had been his friend once, long before their involvement doomed the two of them.

He would try to pretend she wasn’t there and mulled on his wine instead in silence, thinking what Lightning would accomplish with that plan of hers. He hoped it would work and that he hadn’t rushed himself into trusting her word. There was a strength in her that he liked and something incredibly appealing about her that he couldn’t quite figure out what. In a short period of time he was looking forward to see more and more of her every time.

He didn’t think Lightning would show up at the reception feast herself. She was much more cunning than that, but his heart stopped short for half a second when he saw a rose haired goddess slip through between the guests. Who he assumed was Lightning wasn’t, but an entirely other deity altogether. She was shorter than Lightning, her aura a complete difference than Lightning’s. She smiled with such a sweet complacency, a glow of happiness surrounded her that there was no way that she could possibly be the chaotic constrained goddess Noctis knew. He didn’t address her, choosing instead to remain anonymous in his quiet corner than to chase after her. But he was surprised to see the unfamiliar pink haired immortal hand-in-hand with Noel, whom Noctis knew from eons ago.

Then the previously uninterrupted wedding feast was disturbed when a heavily inebriated mortal prince dropped back into it, causing noise and havoc when he knocked over chairs and bumped into a slave, who let a bottle of alcohol come crashing to the floor.

That earned the boy the attention of the whole hall. The music stopped playing, the singers went still and everyone else remained frozen.

Only one person, an older male slowly rose from his seat, spitting the boy’s name through clenched teeth. “Tidus!”

The blond young man picked himself up, wine stains on his clothes. He looked up at the man who spoke to him. “Father?”

Jecht glared down darkly at his son, who still managed to make himself look like a fool and humiliate his whole family while doing so. “What are you doing?”

Tidus took a gander about him, nervous to have every eye of men, gods and slaves upon him. He had the decency to color and scratch the back of his head sheepishly. “Well…” He held up the golden apple in his hand and the air in the hall shifted.

Noctis immediately felt the essence of Lightning in the fruit, the magic that she was able to create with her blood and his sword. Now that it had fully grown, it felt more addicting than ever.

Gasps rung through the air, indicating that most guests in the hall had felt the power coming from it likewise. Cloud stood, his voice quiet and solemn. “Who are you, boy?”

“T-Tidus, Your Divinity.” He answered. “Son of Jecht, prince of Troje.”

“Prince of Troy,” Cloud pointed at the object in the boy’s hand. “Where did you get that apple?”

Tidus looked at the apple he was holding as if he saw it for the first time. “I… I don’t know.” He swallowed uncertainly. “It’s not mine. I think… I don’t know who, but I have to give it to someone.” As soon as he spoke the words, magic – enslaving compelling magic surged from the apple as if it was the sun.

Letters engraved themselves into the apple, forming words that would doom them all.

‘For The Fairest One’

That got all the goddesses rushing towards young Tidus, allured by the golden apple like flies on honey. From the corner of Noctis’s eye, he saw Vincent hold Yuffie back from joining the commotion, slowly he shook his head no and pulled her back towards him.

The other goddesses weren’t so lucky, a few dozens of them begging the blond prince to gift them the golden apple, yanking the poor boy left and right.

“Hand it over to me, prince, for clearly I am the most beautiful!” Mindy smiled at the young mortal, indeed exceedingly pretty.

The finger of Cindy slid from Tidus’s jaw to his lips, effectively turning his head towards her. “No, to me. T’is I who has been always called the loveliest of my two sisters.”

Sandy gasped appalled. “Untrue!” She pushed the faces of Mindy and Cindy away from Tidus. “Choose me, obviously!”

Other goddesses pulled her off, literally squabbling to Tidus to give them the apple, each one of them flinging themselves onto the young prince.

“Stand aside.” Rikku blew her long yellow tresses over her shoulder. “Grant me the apple, Prince Tidus.”

“Don’t give it to that ugly wench!” A voice was heard yelling between the masses of immortals.

Rikku, easy to anger already, turned with an irritated frown towards the masses, searching for the guilty one who insulted her. “Who said that? Who?!”

No one faced her, but someone pulled on her equally yellow dress, tearing part of its hem apart. She didn’t have the time to get upset about it, as all the goddesses crowded around Tidus once more, pleading for the apple.

“Give it to me, please!”

“No! To me!”

“Am I not beautiful?”

“He’ll never give it to you!”

“I want the apple!”

"The apple is meant for the fairest, y’know?”

“I beg you, hand it over!"

“Are you telling me I am not fair?”

The bickering went on and on, getting louder until the goddesses were literally screaming and hissing at each other, throwing insults and nearly getting in one another’s hairs, but then Lady Tifa decided to put an end to it.

“Calm down, ladies.” She said in her gentle tone, descending from the dais she occupied along with her husband, the startled bride and groom.

The inferior deities tried to compose themselves in the sight of Lady Tifa, who slowly made her way towards Tidus. “Now, what do we have here?” She asked, not ignorant to the tempting magic that flowed out of the apple. “Meant for the Fairest One, huh? I know a way to end all your fighting among yourselves.” She smiled beautifully at the human boy, who gaped at her awed. “Give me the apple.”

There were indignant sharp inhale of breaths all around, but no one went ahead and came out to oppose her.

Except for Terra. She was a mighty goddess of her own right and didn’t fear the superior deity half as much as the rest of them. “That would be unfair, Lady Tifa,” Terra spoke in her solemn tone. “Who would contest with you?”

Tifa turned towards the blonde goddess with a narrow look to her brown eyes. “Are you saying that you would contest me?”

The other goddess shrugged, saying nothing in return.

But Tifa wouldn’t have it and flipped around to Tidus, who was too astonished by the overwhelming attentions of the deities to actually have a voice in it all. “Why don’t you give it to me, hm?”

Prince Tidus would have gladly given it to Lady Tifa, a stunning goddess if he ever saw one. “I-I…”

A third voice added to the party, protesting for the golden fruit. “The apple isn’t mean for you, Lady Tifa.” The female goddesses parted aside, enviously glaring as Stella sauntered by.

The sight of Stella would never falter to amaze Noctis, no matter how many times he had seen her both publicly and privately. She was nevertheless as beautiful as always, with her violet eyes, glossy hair and curves that made deities and men alike swoon.

“Nor is it for you, Terra.” She flipped her golden hair towards said goddess.

“Stella.” Tifa acknowledged lowly.

“Lady Tifa,” Stella curtsied elegantly, with more grace than any of them could muster, before she, too, turned her appealing eyes towards Tidus, locking straight on the mysterious golden object. “Grant me the apple, as is my due, don’t you agree?”

“What?” Tifa objected.

Terra wasn’t Stella’s biggest fan and the two never went along well. Stella posed for everything that Terra was not. “What makes you think it belongs to you?”

Stella waved at the other lighter blonde immortal as if the answer was obvious. “No man has ever resisted me, unlike you.” She told Terra. Slowly she slid her lilac gaze to Tifa. “Or you.” She smiled, letting the implication lie. They weren’t very much worth her trouble, so the golden goddess addressed Tidus once more, successfully seducing him with a single look. “Give it here.”

Stella was already reaching for the golden fruit, but faster than the mortal eyes could follow, Tifa had pushed Stella’s hands away and Terra pulled the goddess away from the unassuming mortal prince. Aghast that the queen of gods and the virgin goddess would humiliate her so, Stella blushed prettily. Like everything else she did, it was pretty.

“Ah, who are you really trying to convince, Lady Tifa?” Stella sneered, the first sign of her losing her composure. “The apple is meant For the Fairest One, and you aren’t particularly fair.” She indicated at Tifa’s dark hair conceitedly. “And you,” She said to Terra with a turned up nose. “Though you are sweet to look upon, I admit, who has ever called you the fairest of them all?”

They both knew the answer to that question and it only managed to rile up Terra’s more unruly side. “Why you–”

“Enough!” Tifa stated, pointing an angry finger at her husband. “Make an end to this.”

All eyes turned towards Cloud. He merely raised his hands instead. “Keep me out of this. The apple belongs to the prince of Troje. He shall choose between the three of you.” The king of gods smartly washed his hands from the business that would otherwise turn ugly. “It’s Prince Tidus’s judgment.”

The other lesser female deities who were silently still crowded around the prince, sighed and whined and slinked away, leaving Tidus in the hands of the three most powerful goddesses known to mankind.

Tifa wasted no time, lest Tidus dared to change his mind, knowing that the apple must belong to her. “Choose me,” Said she. “And I’ll give you all the political power you would ever wish. Every senator will be your friend, every family of title and influence would easily plead fealty to you.”

Tifa’s hand touched his gently. And from her touch, Tidus saw himself shaking hands with lords and fat rich merchants.

“If you pick me,” Terra ushered, turning Tidus by his shoulder towards her. “I’ll give you all the wisdom you’ll require. When you are king after your father, you’ll rule wisely and honorably, and once you’ve passed, you’ll be remembered as the most venerable king that has ever lived.”

By her touch, Tidus saw himself as a king, old and bearded, wearing the crown of his father, signing laws and verdicts for the good of his kingdom.

“But grant it to me,” Stella purred, grabbing the prince by his chin so she could have his full attention. “And I’ll…” She stopped. She wasn’t sure what would sufficiently convince the prince to pick her above the opportunities of ultimate political power or infinitive wisdom. “Give me the apple and I will offer you the most beautiful woman in the world.”

To push the prince even more, she gave him but a hint of what could be his with a touch of her finger. A vision formed in Tidus’s mind, cloudy and vague, but then he indeed saw a gorgeous lady, dancing on the surface of the ocean with the setting sun glowing red and orange behind her. Stella pulled the vision away before he could see the rest of it, leaving him wanting for more.

It was now up to the prince to decide.

For beauty, he couldn’t say. Each goddess, Tifa, Terra, Stella, they were all three very fine. He would have given the apple to each of them if he could. In fact, he would give a golden apple to all the females in the room, but he only had one, and it were only these three goddesses he could choose from. Lady Tifa has always been the most beautiful goddess on Mount Olympus… he could not ignore the fact that she was the wife of Cloud. She seemed like an obvious choice. Terra is the Virgin Goddess of Wisdom and even though she is sometimes called the Grim-Goddess, she is quite beautiful by any mortal standards. Stella is the Goddess of Love. Her charms and enchantments were legendary. If he picked one, he would still be lying, for he could not say who was truly the fairest one!

Their bribes, however, were something else altogether.

His father would have wanted Tidus to choose either Tifa or Terra. Their offers were sound and things most men would want in life for themselves and their families. But Tidus was a hapless prince. He cared nothing for politics and not once has he had an interest in being king.

But that last offer though…

To the surprise of everybody in the room and the irrevocable disappointment of his father, Tidus gave the golden apple of discord to Stella, the Goddess of Love, sealing the faith of himself and the future of Troy.

It would have been stuff of legend and glory to say that Prince Tidus chose Stella for her pure appearance and that he chose fairly. Stella was after all famed for her seductions and her arts in love. He should have chosen Stella for those reasons alone, but his choice was based on greed and desire. Beauty had nothing to do with it.

Terra and Tifa’s anger was evident, but Stella did not care for their jealousy nor their resentment. The apple was hers and all its addictive magic, as it was always meant to be.

The new owner of the apple smiled a smile of lust and want. “Yuna, Queen of Sparta is awaiting your arrival, Prince Tidus.” Stella offered slyly. “Go find her.”

~Ω~

Noctis found her on the roof of the temple, sitting cross-legged over the edge, listening to the commotion within. A few red roses grew around her, protecting her from getting detected. He assumed Lightning would be watching the event go down from her mirror in her home, but when he traced the essence of her blood back to her, it seemed that she wasn’t very far off from him.

The black mist that accompanied him when he warped alerted her flowers of his arrival, curling fantastically on contact. Nothing has ever responded to his mist like her roses do.

“What now?” His voice flew through the air from behind her.

Lightning twirled a rose in her hand. “Within three days Tidus will arrive at Sparta to claim his price that Stella promised him. What she cleverly omitted from her offer was that Yuna is already married, to Seymour, King of Sparta. Once Prince Tidus successfully seduces Yuna to join him on an elopement, Seymour would want his bride back. He’ll call upon his allies to form an army, follows them to Troy and once there…”

“He’ll declare for war.” He finished her sentence.

Noctis finally saw what she was planning all along. Everything was falling into place. And it was pure geniality.

“I told you, all you had to do was count on the vanity of the gods and greed of humans for them to arrange their own requiem mass.” Lightning stood up from the roof’s edge slowly, letting her rose fall to the ground below them. “You’ll have what you wanted.”

“And you?” Noctis asked, knowing that she had yearned for her chance of revenge as much as he wanted war.

“I already have what I set out to do. That perfidious bitch Lady Tifa felt the sting of being scorned. And listen,” She went quiet and the rumble of immortals and men arguing below was heard loudly. A glass fell and broke, people were rudely pushed aside and all the guests were either ruffled or shouting at each other. “Their precious party is in ruins.”

So it was.

She smiled contently, before turning away to return back to the domain she called hers. “Well, I got my part of the deal.” She announced. “You have fun with your war.”

This would be the last he’d see of her if he let her slip away.

“Wait,” Noctis held her slim wrist before she disappeared altogether.

Lightning stared sharply at his hand on her. His palm was warm against her skin. “Our business is done.”

Cobalt blue eyes smiled coyly at her. “I’m not done with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I want you to join me in war.”

Lightning chuckled. It had been a long time since anyone made her laugh, even if it was a cynical little sound. “That’s cute. But no.”

He wasn’t hoping to hear that answer from her. “You prefer to stay locked up in that realm of yours, isolated from Olympus, the mortal earth and even the Underworld once more?”

“Who says I am locked up? Unlike when you were prisoned, I can leave whenever I want.”

Noctis scoffed. “We both know you’re confined against your will in there. Or are you trying to tell me that you like your nature to be restrained at all times?”

That arrow came too close to home. Lightning, for once, had nothing to say as retort.

The corner of his lips lifted superciliously. “Join me and show them that no one can truly contain unconditional pure chaos.”

It sounded tempting. So incredibly tempting to join this young god and take his offer to sow strife and cruelty wherever she went. It has been so long she was allowed to inflict her nature upon the mortals, she couldn’t believe how much she actually longed to see men fear her. Serah, with her resilient and peaceful character, had managed to subdue Lightning so many times when she wanted to destroy half the world with her powers.

Noctis had the truth of the matter. She had been caged and constrained. For centuries.

She didn’t take this young god up on his offer yet though. What did he know of pure chaos anyway? She had existed for millenias and eons before he came along. “You have raged war without my aid before. Why would you want me to join you now?”

He had seen what they could do combined with something as insignificant as an apple among the gods. Imagine what they could do if they put their skills together entirely? “Together, we’re at our most powerful.” That was a bet. His power had diminished significantly, but with her, his magic could increase and become what it once was. There was vast power when they were joined. So much more than even he could realize. Without her he was just war, but with her, he could be more. They could be terrifying, unstoppable, fearsome. Together.

What would happen if war, discord and aggression becomes one? The world would not know what hits them.

“That’s why you would want me to join you?” She yanked her arm out of his grip, but he didn’t let go. “Typical.”

“Believe me,” He said with a grin as he pulled her close by her wrist. “Your magic isn’t the only reason why I want you with me.”

She was glaring up to him in a way that made him want to kiss her, just to see her reaction. He knew the taste of her blood, now he wanted to know the taste of her lips. He had an inkling she would push him off her and curse him, but he would love to see if he could sway the powerful goddess enough to return it.

Her lips parted slightly and mayhaps she saw what he intended to do in the first place, and she didn’t back away from him. Challenge rose in her eyes and Noctis couldn’t resist to not take it.

“Right,” She finalized haughtily. “Prove it.”

He looked at her, cobalt eyes eager and waiting. “Prove what?”

“That you want me not only for my magic.”

This took for a direction far more interesting. “Are you certain you want to go that way? There's no going back from me.”

Lightning urged herself to think about this, before she plunged head first into the ocean with him. He was right about one thing, for sure. Their powers combined together would be something fierce to behold. It was simply up to Lightning whether or not she wanted to take his dare and bring woe to every mortal, deity and creature in their path. It had been so long since she was allowed to truly be herself, always calmed by Serah when her ire became too great at times, always hid away in her domain. Tonight she had felt more alive sending Tidus into his misfortune and thus igniting the doom of Troy, than she had been in a long time.

Imagine how much more devastation she could cast if she went into this war with him? So much, so much more.

All Lightning had to do was ask herself if she indeed wanted to thread into those waters? Go against her sweet sister Serah’s wishes and rival all the gods and goddesses on Olympus at her own behest.

Was she sure she wanted to do that, with him? “I am.”

Noctis leaned forward to kiss her, pausing right in front of her lips to smile against her mouth. Before taking her and everything that she was. It was positively delightful knowing that she would be on his side, like this.

And in his kiss was freedom – freedom from her lonely realm and her sister, who had successfully kept Lightning dormant for hundreds of years. Then this young god came along, claiming he wanted war and vengeance by threading on chaos, and severed all the restraining bonds that kept her nature from hungrily wanting to destroy everything.

Noctis pushed her closer to him and Lightning felt the strength in his arms, the same strength she knew would hold her as they rode into war together. She would enjoy casting disorder among the mortals, as they murdered their enemies and slaughtered their kin in the confusion. Their rue would be her amusement, their pain would feed her like nothing had before.

And during the heat of war, she would be able to see Noctis grow into the mighty god he was always meant to be.

They kissed on the roof of the temple, with a disbanding wedding reception that had plummeted into ruins below them. They faded out of existence with black mist and blooming roses.

~Ω~

The waiting game ensued.

All Noctis had to do was wait, and the inevitable war will be upon them and he could ride onto battle on his chariot, his swords flying through the air and decapitating men left and right.

All he had to do was wait. But it was known that he was an impatient god, unless he had something to distract his mind. Which, luckily for him, he did.

The mirror in Lightning’s bedchamber followed every step of Prince Tidus, making his way towards Sparta to see Yuna, but it was not something neither the God of War and Goddess of Discord was watching.

Three days it took for Tidus to find Yuna, in those three days Noctis had done nothing else besides breathing in the scent of Lightning’s roses and taste the flavor of her skin.

He hadn’t ever spend three days quite so fruitful.

The sight of Lightning as he cut her dress from her person was one of the highly arousing moments of his life. She was truly beautiful, in her own striking way that was nothing like the goddess of Love or Virginity or Family. They would sing a tune differently if they saw Lightning stretched naked on the bed, welcoming his body on top of hers. She was enchanting, with her flowers growing about her, each turning black when he touched one of them, sighing a sigh of lust and madness.

It were three days of heat and pain and ecstasy.

It was a time spent idling around with her, where their limbs were entangled together and her kisses stole the very air from his lungs. Moments where he enjoyed discovering the softness of her thigh with his lips before she turned the tables and explored every inch of him. Goosebumps broke out across his skin as she ghosted her fingertips up his chest, feeling the muscles underneath as they tensed in hypnotizing ways.

She smiled a Cerberus-may-care grin at him right before she kissed a trail down the ridges of his abdomen and further down, then bobbed her head. He kissed her when she came up and he finally caught his breath. Her mouth tasted like ambrosia and his cum and roses, always like her roses.

He easily returned the favor, reveling in the fact that whenever he managed to get her to finish, storm clouds gathered and boomed dangerously outside her manor.

Somewhere between the moments that Noctis was licking the silvery ambrosia drink from between the valley of her breasts and the dip of her stomach, Lightning’s sister, Serah, decided to appear.

“Sis, where are you?!” Came the more harmonious melodic voice from somewhere in the manor.

Never before had Noctis seen the look of utter panic on his companion’s face when she urged him to disappear from her presence, lest Serah found him. Naked, she jumped up from the floor of her bedchamber – since they have long rolled off of the bed – and commanded her red robe to fly into her hand.

“Why are you still here?” She hissed at him lowly, while he eyed her lazily as she dressed herself enough to look presentable for her sister. “Leave before she knows you’re here.”

He merely propped his head on his arms and lay unabashedly nude on the floor. “Why, you ashamed to be seen with me?”

“Not at all.” And that was the truth of it too. “But I do not want to expose my innocent little sister to any of our… interactions.”

He smirked wolfishly at her use of words. “I think your sister is a big girl by now.”

“Light!” Serah called again and Lightning cursed Noctis’s stubborn refusal to leave immediately.

“I’m in here.” She responded before Serah thought something suspicious about her not answering. She glared at Noctis on the floor, demanding him to leave one more time. “Disappear and don’t leave any trace either.”

“Only if you promise that I can do whatever I want to you when she is gone.” There was an inferno of heat in his gaze.

His words caused the place between her legs to throb, but her stomach was filled with caution for her sister coming nearer. She could practically hear Serah’s light footfalls down the hallways, thanking her sister that she didn’t just transport herself into her bedroom. Serah was like that, she enjoyed the more baser part of life, like walking around and gardening.

Lightning crossed her arms angrily. “Fine.”

The young god misted away with the black smoke that was of his being the very second later. Lightning kicked any sheets and pillows that was lingering about under her bed. Her hand had flicked away the image of Yuna and Tidus smiling at each other through the mirror right when Serah opened the bedchamber’s door.

“There you are!” She said with a smile. “Still abed at this hour?”

Lightning found herself awkwardly sharing that smile. “I was bored.” Quickly to pull her sister’s attention from her disheveled bed, she changed the subject. “How was your wedding party?”

At this Serah’s smile shrunk. “Oh, Light, it ended in complete disaster! First the party had been moving on nicely for several hours, but then this mortal… I don’t remember his name, but he was a prince of somewhere I think, he had this golden apple that had such a potent power, it just lured everyone to it. Even I wanted to go, but Noel prevented me.”

Bless Noel then. “Truly? I guess I missed a lot at that legendary wedding.”

Serah looked guilty. “It’s good you stayed away, sis. It was later that Noel pointed out that only the goddesses seemed overly affected by it, that though he felt an urge himself, he wasn’t desperate for it, not like how I wanted it and the other goddesses as well. Everything fell apart when the apple was meant for the most beautiful person in the room and the poor mortal prince was forced to choose between Lady Tifa, Stella and Rikku. If you were there too, you would have been a mighty contender for the apple.”

Lightning shrugged. “Such things doesn’t bother me. You know that, Serah.”

She nodded that she did. “Still, the apple was hypnotizing enough to push those three goddesses to even bribe the mortal, and he took Stella’s offer. The most beautiful woman above political power and eternal wisdom as Terra and Lady Tifa offered him.”

“Hmm. The vanity of gods and the greed of humankind,” Lightning said smiling, thinking of her own words and how much her plan worked. “They never cease to astonish me.”

Serah had never liked to see the darker aspect of any being. “Sad to say that some are, sister. After the prince gave the apple, the party was rowdy. Some goddesses even cursed Stella for a cheat, and Lady Tifa and Terra weren’t very much amused either. It looked like everyone was blaming each other until there was shouting and pushing and hysterics… It was total chaos by the end!”

When Serah saw her sister smile on her normally apathetic face, she rose an eyebrow at her. “Light, you didn’t have a hand in this, did you?” Serah couldn’t feel her sister’s magic in the apple. She would have recognized it if it was Lightning’s power that created it.

Lightning’s eyes were green and warm and expressive when she looked at her. And Serah felt a dread in the pit of her stomach. “All by myself?” Her elder sister asked lightly. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Serah glanced down at her toes. “I came to check up on you and tell you that I was sorry about how we parted last time.” It wasn’t her fault, but she liked to smooth things over on her part anyhow. “I have to go.”

“You barely got here.”

Serah looked from Lightning’s mirror on the wall to the bed with all its thrown sheets and then back at her barely dressed sister, whose brilliant eyes were still glowing emeralds and lovelier than a forest lake in spring. It was all wrong. She feared Lightning had something to do with this. She feared that the threads of chaos and disorder was pulled by Lightning. She knew that something or someone might have aided her on her vengeance - Lightning swore that she would, after all - but Serah did not know who. All she could do was pray, and plead and beg for her sister to restrain herself. Because she could feel it; the fate of the world is in great danger, and the ruined wedding feast had only been the beginning.

Serah saw it in her expressively otherworldly green eyes, when they had always been blue. “Please don’t do this, Light.”

The quirk of her beautiful mouth meant no good. “I already am, sister.”

Serah bit her lip, fearing for them all. Whatever hope she had that she could talk her sibling out of this doom she had casted would be futile. The control she carefully placed over Lightning’s dangerous nature throughout the eons was gone.

She left, leaving behind thunder storms brewing in the sky and onyx mist surrounding ominously about the manor.

As soon as Serah blinked from existence Noctis misted up behind Lightning, his hand on her waist, touching her in wicked, sinful ways. He didn’t even waste time pushing the robe from her body when he took her wildly against the wall right then and there.

~Ω~

The tale of the war of Troy would be forever remembered on disks and walls and paintings. The mortals wrote the tales of the gods into legends and poems and stories.

Ten years of war reigned, followed by the fall of Troy due to the Wooden Horse that Lightning cleverly slipped into the minds of the mortals. Armies were formed and battles were fought, where the two deities only thrived on. War not only expanded Noctis’s power, but also her own, more than she would have ever realized. She spread hatred and cruelty down at the mortals fighting, seeing the darkness and chaos in all their hearts. She fed on it, as Noctis’s power grew with every battle, with every slaughter, with every melee. The Goddess of Strife, the mighty driver of armies, rose in strength and the God of War bellowed his cry from far across the lines, churning black as a whirlwind with sparkling sharp blades flying about them like bleeding stars.

Lightning was once again free, uncontrollable and unstoppable, and Noctis was still between reveling in the strength that war fed him or kissing her deeply every time his blades drank mortal blood.

From then on to every war known to mankind, the two deities rode together on their chariot as War and Strife, spreading slaughter and fury. Bearing children together that would become known to mankind as Famine and Sorrow, Battle and Folly, Lawlessness and Slaughter. Their children joining the two deities wherever they went to cause havoc.

Forevermore together, until the end of time.

~Ω~

[alexboehm55144]

Zootopia 1- a fur wars story. Chapter 5: Mr. Big

The group was lead to a large rock outcropping in the middle of the desert that had some partisan ships parked outside. When they arrived the group had their gear confiscated and thrown into a room. Nick, Skye and Jack were tossed into a cell while Judy was lead to another area in the base. She noticed the partisans all around her, they were doing every kind of activity from playing some game, to just standing around. But when Judy passed by they all stopped what they were doing and looked at her with a look that could kill. The bunny was lead to a room with a large window, where her restraints were removed and she was left alone. “Judy hopps!” Judy looked down to see Mr. Big walking towards her with a smile on his face. “I haven't seen you in years!” The shrew said. “The last time you saw me, you gave me a knife and loaded blaster and told me to wait for you in a bunker. You abandoned me!” “I was protecting you! Word was starting to get out that you were the daughter of an imperial scientist. There were people who wanted to use you as a hostage” The shrew took the mask from his armor and took a breath before speaking again “why are you here?” “The rebellion sent me” “Did they send you to kill me?” Mr.big said, sounding distraught. “There's not much of me left” The shrew tapped his body, most of which was made of metal and machinery. “No, they think because of my previous relationship with you I can get you to give up the pilot and the information he knows. The rebellion wants my father” “But what is it that you want?” “I just want to get this done. Then I'm out” “You don't care for the cause?” “All the alliance has brought me is pain” “You can stand… to see the imperial flag reign across the Galaxy?” “It's not a problem if you don't look up” Mr big sighed. “I have something to show you” he said. Skye, Jack and Nick were still trapped in a cell, but luckily Nick had a few hidden tools on him. Including a comlink which he used to call Weaselton for pickup, then set to work on picking the cell door. “Who is in the next cell?” Jack asked. “What?” Nick said. “There's someone in the next cell” Nick went over to a small barred window in the wall and looked through. He saw Gideon sitting there on the floor, mumbling gibberish to himself. “It's the pilot!” Nick said, recognizing the flight suit and the fox’s face from the holograms in the holy city. “Hey!” Nick said. “Your the pilot, right?” “P…. P….. pilot?” Gideon said “yes, I'm the pilot! Stu hopps sent me from Eadu” “Eadu?” “Yes, that's where Stu is. That's where his lab is” High above the planet, the massive imperial battle station, the Death Star, moved into position. Lionheart, bellwether and many high ranking imperials stood on the bridge. There were multiple control panels on the walls and a large screen on 1 wall. “The emperor is awaiting my report” bellwether said. “One would have hoped that him and lord finnick would be here to see this” lionheart said. “I wanted to save them from any potential embarrassment” “Your concerns are not warranted” “If saying it would only make it so” The director looked angrily at the sheep. “All imperial forces have been evacuated” director lionheart said. “And I stand ready to destroy the entire moon” “The holy city will be enough for today” bellwether said. With another angry look, lionheart called out his orders. “Single reactor ignition!” The screen turned into an overhead view of the holy city on Jedha, with a targeting icon overlaid over the city. An imperial technician came over to lionheart and spoke. “Sir we are in position-“ “FIRE!” “Fine hardass” the technician muttered under his breath as other mammals began using the control panels to power up the station’s massive superlaser. Mr big powered up a hologram projector that displayed an image of Stu Hopps. “This is the message the pilot had on him” the shrew said. “Dad” Judy said as her father began talking. “Big, if your seeing this then that means there is a chance to save the alliance. A chance for Judy” he said, sounding depressed “if she's alive, if you can find her, please tell her I hope she can forgive me, for not being by her side, all these years. I was forced to work under lionheart, building his superweapon. I couldn't take my own life or refuse to work, so I did the only thing I could do, I lied. We call this superweapon, the Death Star. It has the power to destroy planets, but I have placed a weakness in the station, so small and powerful they will never find it. Judy, if you are listening, I want you to know that it has broken my heart to be without you, My little stardust” Judy wiped a tear from her eye as she continued to watch the message. “The station has a thermal exhaust port that leads directly to the reactor. That is my trap, if a torpedo or missile is fired down the port, it will detonate the reactor and trigger an explosion that will destroy the whole station” On the Death Star mammals braced themselves as lasers shot by them, before the lasers connected into one massive beam that blasted down towards the holy city. The laser struck ground and created a massive explosion that obliterated the entire area. Mr. Big looked out the window nearby as stu kept talking. “You will need the structural plans for the Death Star, and I know they store copies at the citadel tower on scarif. But that would be a total suicide mission, and I'd never send you into harms way, so I just copied the plans to a disk and hid them with the pilot” “Ah yes!” Mr. Big said tapping a nearby data disk with his cane. “The pilot, He was carrying these plans” Stu looked like he was about to say something else, but the hologram deactivated as the whole base started to shake. Judy collapsed to her knees, the weight of this message was to much to bear. Looking out the window, she saw a massive explosion, And a title wave of rock and rubble racing towards the base. Nick, Jack and skye burst out of their cell as the partisans noticed their impending doom coming closer and closer and started to flee. Nick freed Gideon while Jack and Skye grabbed their gear. “Get outside!” Nick said, running to find Judy. “Jack! Jack!” Skye yelled as jack calmly picked his gear back up and attached it to his body. “We gotta go!” Nick raced into the room with Judy and Mr. big and grabbed Judy's arm. “We need to get out of here!” “Come on!” Judy yelled to Mr. Big as she grabbed the capsule containing her father’s message, and the data disk with the plans. “No” the arctic shrew said “I will run no longer” Nick pulled Judy out of the room as Mr.big called out. “Save the rebellion! Save the dream!” High above the imperials watched the massive explosion on the surface of the planet. “Oh it's beautiful” director lionheart said. Nick, Judy, Jack, Skye and Gideon headed outside to see partisans racing to their ships as the massive title wave of earth grew closer and closer. They also saw Weaselton landing nearby with the U-wing. “Come on! This way!” Nick yelled as the team sprinted at full speed towards the ship. As they jumped aboard Nick hopped in the co-pilot’s seat and the ship took off. Mr. Big watched the U-wing leave, before turning his gaze towards the massive wave of rock coming towards him. He disconnected the air system from his suit, which created the sound of gas escaping as air flowed out of the suit. The shrew stood with his arms out, and let the wave come over him, bulldozing the partisan base like a tree in an avalanche. The massive wave began to curve up over the U-Wing, which was still attempting to escape. “Jump to light speed!” Nick said. “I haven't finished my calculations yet” Weaselton responded. “Let me make them for you” nick said as he pressed a few buttons, disabling the ships light speed safety measures, before flipping a large lever that sent the ship shooting off into hyperspace. The cloud of rock and fire from the Death Star’s blast reached high into the sky, coming close to the battle station itself. “I believe I owe you an apology director lionheart” bellwether said. The other officers in the room stayed silent as the 2 conversed. “And you will tell the emperor” lionheart responded. “I will tell him that his patience with your misadventures has been rewarded with a weapon that will bring a swift end to the rebellion” “And that was only a FRACTION of its power” “I will tell him that I will be taking control over the weapon I spoke of years ago, effective immediately” A look of disbelief crossed lionhearts face before he scoffed at bellwether’s remark. “We stand here amidst MY ACHIEVEMENT! NOT YOURS!” Lionheart yelled, walking up to the sheep. “The recent security breaches have shown how inadequate you are to be a military director” “The breaches have been filled. Jedha is silenced” “Do you think this cargo pilot acted alone? He was dispatched from Eadu. Stu Hopps’s facility” “I will see about this” lionheart said, before turning and leaving the room.

#Zootopia #star wars #rouge one #nick wilde #judy hopps #jack savage #skye the arctic fox