#truly living up to his name. his parents must be so proud | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

okay-babe · 2 months

Note

Imagine alastor thinks his wife is just the most perfect, angelic being he’s ever met, so he’s downright shocked to fight out she also ended up in hell going “yeah I killed a man once” (he falls even more in love)

A Good Thing, Indeed

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, alastor and reader are married, angelic reader, protective/possessive alastor, brief human alastor x human reader, fluff, very mild angst note: I went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you enjoy, anon <3 Find a sequel (of sorts) to this fic, here.

Alastor had never quite understood how someone like him had ended up with a woman like you.

You were soft and understanding, utterly ceaseless in your kindness and love of near anyone who crossed your path, a true saint to be sure.

Alastor on the other hand, had always been quite the opposite.

Where you were soft, your lover was unyielding, where you were understanding, he was impatient, and when it came to the capacity for kindness and love within his heart, many would have gone on record stating that there was much to be desired in that regard.

Yet, even still, you chose him, and he, you.

Every. Single. Time.

It was as if the two of you were meant to be.

The proud and charismatic up and coming host of a brand new radio show, and the modest and soft spoken kindergarten teacher that was ever present upon his arm.

To Alastor, you were everything and more, and whether he was willing to admit it aloud or not, he all but worshiped the very ground that you walked upon.

There was so very little worth caring for in a world like the one that he lived in, and yet there you were, a shining beacon of light and hope to keep him from losing his mind over it all (well, at least in part, though he knew deep down that a portion had been missing since long before you'd made your way into his life).

For all of this, Alastor praised you and your love ceaselessly, his appreciation for your union a vast and endless thing that filled him with a sense of pride stronger than any other he'd felt before.

And how could it not?

You were his wife.

You!

The beautiful kindergarten teacher who worked in the public school just down the street from his broadcasting station, the one with the smile that lit up a room and the laugh that could make a man blush.

The one with the students who sung her praises to their parents during pick up and the coworkers turned friends who would utterly gush about her at even the briefest mention of her name.

You.

The woman that no one believed had gotten New Orleans' most prominent radio host to settle down after only just a year of courting, and whose stunning church wedding had been the talk of the town.

You were perfect, you were lovely, and the sweetest part of it all was that you bore his last name.

And oh, what whiplash that must have caused for those who hadn't known of your courtship earlier on. It nearly sent Alastor into a tizzy just imagining it.

The sweet, adoring woman that your son calls his teacher is also the wife of the ever unreadable and notably cold radio host from just down the street that scarcely any could say they truly knew?

How scandalous! Whatever is a woman like her doing with a man like him?!

Well, the answer, quite honestly, was being doted upon nigh endlessly.

If you wanted for even the smallest of things, it would be yours in an instant, and if you desired even the most useless of luxuries, he would have spared no expense to have it in your hands by the end of the day.

And even beyond that, there was the persistent desire to stay by your side, his presence always guaranteed the very moment you mentioned want for it.

An ice cream social at the school where you'd be meeting your new students and their parents? Alastor was there, conversing politely with a few mothers on the difficulties of parenting (in spite of his notable lack of children), making nearly everyone wonder what the hell a famous radio host was doing at the local elementary school.

Visiting Mimzy at her slightly sleazy little lounge in the shadier side of the city? Alastor was there, dressed to the nines, looking immensely out of place as you danced the night away with your friends (and him of course) to your little heart's content.

His love for you was nearly as endless as yours was for the very world beneath your feet, and in spite of himself he couldn't help but fall deeper and deeper in love at every borderline naive action you took.

You want to buy that man a drink because he looks lonely? Certainly darling, your husband would be happy to scare him off all night as the fool tries to make unwanted advances at you that he thinks are warranted thanks to your kindness.

You want to pick a fight with the burly man whose house is on your walk to work because he's been shouting cruel things at his dog nearly every morning for the past several weeks? Oh of course, just let Alastor prepare to use his most unsettling smile while he reaches for the leather sheathed knife he keeps attached to his belt so he can wordlessly threaten the oaf without you ever even realizing.

And so, knowing all of that and having lived such a love-filled few years at your side, how could Alastor ever have believed he might one day see you again once he came to in Hell shortly after his demise?

The short answer was, he couldn't.

And though he would never have been willing to admit such a thing aloud, it utterly shattered a portion of his heart to know he would never see your sweet smile or hear your perfect laugh ever again.

And to imagine what your reaction may have been once the police had informed you of all that he had done?

Well, he tried his best not to.

Because while he couldn't bring himself to regret those he had killed and the things he had done, he did regret having been left with no choice but to keep such a thing from you and leave you with such a mess upon his death.

Certainly you had deserved better, that much he knew.

But there was absolutely nothing he could do about that now.

Or, at least, that's what he had led himself to believe.

Until one day, he'd been broken out of his typical morning routine of brewing his black coffee and digging into a freshly caught deer by the sound of knocking at his door.

There were very few people who knew of where Alastor lived at this point, with him being multiple years removed from life and having firmly cemented himself within society as a powerful and merciless overlord, so honestly it hadn't come as very much of a surprise when he opened the door and found an old friend waiting rather impatiently on the other side.

Mimzy.

Having arrived in Hell not very long after the radio host, the former flapper, (who he had actually met through you), had become a familiar face throughout the past few years as he'd tried to grow accustomed to life without his darling wife at his side.

It was nice, in a way, to have that reminder of you near when he wished for it to be, and so he allowed the sinner to call him something like a friend and offered her protection when it was convenient enough for him that it didn't prove to be a hassle.

Although, today of all days the overlord was certainly a little less than pleased to see Mimzy's familiar face at his doorstep, and he was reasonably certain that she knew why that was.

It was your former anniversary after all, and today would have been your tenth year of marriage had he only lived long enough to reach such a landmark achievement with you.

A smile, strained and thin, descended upon his lips, and, in spite of his feelings, Alastor remained as cordial as ever, albeit rather cold with his words.

"Mimzy, my dear! How wonderful to see you! Whatever could possibly be so important as to have you at my door on a day like today?"

There was a certain level of threat to his tone that no doubt left the woman standing before him floundering for a few seconds, before finally, she mustered up her reply, her smile ever so slightly less confident than before.

"Alastor, just the fella that I was lookin' for!"

The sinner began, placing her right hand upon her hip as she inspected the condition of the nails on her left,

"Now I know ya like to be left alone and all on days like this, but I've got a surprise for ya back at my place that I promise you're gonna wanna see a-s-a-p."

She said with her typical air of confidence, immediately causing the Radio Demon to roll his eyes in response, his facade of interest slipping ever so slightly before he seemed to catch himself once more, ever the gentleman.

"Oh do you now? Well, as utterly transfixed as I am over this little mystery of yours, I'm afraid that I just don't have the time to stop by today. Lot's of things to prepare for the upcoming broad-"

"Alastor."

Mimzy said sternly, cutting the overlord in question off rather uncharacteristically with a glare of her own.

"I know damn well that you don't got nothin' planned for the day, so don't you start fibbin', mista, I can see right through ya!"

She began, quickly changing the subject when she seemed to recall exactly who she was talking to at the increasing sound of static.

"Look, I didn't come here to argue with ya or nothin', so you do whatever it is that you wanna do. I just wanted to come over and warn ya that if you don't come by for a visit by the end of the day you're gonna feel like a real fool, okay?"

She emphasized her warning with a dramatized raise of her brow before she grinned rather wickedly and stepped down off of his doorstep, wiggling her fingers in a teasing little wave as she climbed into the back of the very same taxi she must have used to get to his dwellings in the first place.

"I'll see ya around dollface!"

She called out as the car pulled away, leaving Alastor with quite a few more questions than he'd had upon her already unplanned arrival.

What a fantastic start to one's day.

By the time that Alastor made the decision to actually stop by Mimzy's lounge, it was already dark outside, the subtle chirping of crickets reminding him briefly of home as he walked toward his destination, ever a fan of the more simplistic methods of transportation.

He thought of the sounds of crickets and all of the moments with you that their seemingly endless chirps had backed until their sounds faded away with the increasing sounds of the busier section of the city, wherein Mimzy's place was located.

Just as sleazy and sketchy as it had been above, so it was below, and Alastor felt a sudden sense of longing and familiarity as he stepped inside, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of ever so slightly out of tune jazz music reminding him of his days of swing dancing with you on the cracked dance floor of the place Mimzy had owned and operated in life.

The Radio Demon had only just begun to contemplate what you might have thought of a place like this one when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out his name, and he turned to find the lounge's owner walking quickly toward him, a wide grin that nearly rivaled his own splitting her cheeks.

"Well would you look who it is, Alastor the Radio Demon here in my lil' lounge, what a lucky lady I must be!"

Mimzy teased as she shouted over the obnoxiously loud music, immediately forcing the man in question to hold back another instinctual roll of his eyes.

"Oh, nonsense, I should think that luck has very little to do with it, my dear."

Alastor drawled, dragging his gaze downward to find his friend standing there, all but vibrating upon her feet, clearly excited by something, though he couldn't quite fathom what in Hell it could possibly be.

That is, until he heard another familiar voice pipe up from somewhere behind him, this one far less anticipated than the last, and by a rather significant margin at that.

"Mimzy?"

It called, an edge of stress to it that had the corners of the overlord's smile twitching downward ever so slightly for the briefest of moments.

Alastor watched as the ex flapper standing before him grinned widely in response to his barely noticeable reaction, her eyes shining as she allowed the person speaking to continue with their question.

"Who did you say the whiskey on the rocks was for?"

The lounge's owner hopped up onto a stool beside where she had been standing, gesturing to the space at the bar near where Alastor was still firmly planted, the ears atop his head twitching ever so slightly as they took in the sound of a voice he'd never thought he'd hear again for the very first time since he'd awoken with them camouflaged within his hair.

"Right here, doll. Speakin' of which, why dontcha c'mere and meet one of my regulars, huh?"

She asked as casually as she could manage, gesturing slightly for the still reeling sinner standing beside the bar to take a seat, which, to her surprise, he actually did, eyes seeking out the source of the voice he was hearing as if in utter disbelief.

And then, much to his shock, there you were.

Sure, you looked different as a sinner, but he would recognize you anywhere, and it certainly helped that your beautiful smile was the very same as he remembered it to be whenever he closed his eyes and found you there waiting for him.

Busy with what was likely a fairly large number of orders that your fellow bartender seemed to be doing very little to try and keep up with, you didn't seem to notice him at first, walking quickly toward your old friend with a glass of whiskey in hand, moving to place it down in front of the ever so prominent Radio Demon absentmindedly when suddenly, you froze, your hand still wrapped around the chilled cup.

The two of you stared at one another for several long moments, eyes widened and breaths halting entirely, until finally Mimzy spoke up from Alastor's right, her laughter obnoxious beside his ear, though he could scarcely bring himself to care with his gaze locked so heavily onto yours.

"Happy anniversary, ya lovebirds! Didn't expect that, didja?!"

She all but cackled, causing you to break eye contact with your husband to gawk at your friend.

"Wait a second, you knew he was here the whole time and didn't tell me?!"

You cried, hand flying to your mouth as Alastor began to regard the woman sitting beside him with a hugely threatening glare, the frightfulness of which was only increased by his unyielding grin, which was beginning to appear more and more malicious by the second.

"Woah woah woah, hold your horses!"

Mimzy shouted, waving her hands all about as if in surrender as she looked back and forth between the two of you nervously,

"She only just got down here this mornin' I swear!"

She explained hurriedly to the overlord beside her, causing the man's eye to twitch with effort as he struggled not to tear his old friend limb from limb while her entire bar watched on in horror.

Alastor tapped one clawed finger against the bar in front of him, his sharpened teeth appearing even more threatening than usual at his apparent anger over the situation at hand.

"And you didn't think, my dear,"

He began, his voice low,

"That I may have wanted to know sooner?"

The sound of static overtook the lounge as the sinner's anger increased with each word he said, causing everyone, including those hired to play the live music, to flee out the front door, leaving the trio to their own devices within the confines of the now empty space.

This fact worked extremely well for Alastor, who was only growing more enraged with each passing second as he considered the implication of Mimzy's actions further.

Not only had this woman, someone who had dared call him a friend for so many years, betrayed him by keeping your presence unknown, but she had also clearly employed you at her poor excuse for a lounge, and was now acting as if she had done him a favor by allowing him to be in the presence of the very woman he'd married.

The urge to rip the sinner to shreds with his very own claws was immense, and perhaps he even would have done so had it not been for a gentle hand coming to rest upon his forearm, the weight of it felt even through his shirt and coat.

Immediately, he stiffened, the familiarity of the touch so jarring that his previous thoughts of murder ceased within an instant as he turned his head to face you properly.

There, illuminated by the dim and yellowed lights of the bar, stood his wife, a woman who he had never expected to see again after all that he had done.

What good deed must he have committed in life to deserve such a blessing as this?

Surely there was some kind of mistake and someone would be descending from the heavens to collect you soon, an angel sent to Hell on accident by way of some great failure on Saint Peter's fault.

Your husband stared at you for a few moments, as if afraid you might disappear if he so much as blinked, before finally, you spoke up, your lips curving into a slightly nervous smile.

"Let her explain?"

You asked gently, taking up the very same tone you used to when asking your beloved to make an exception to one of his many strict internalized rules for your benefit.

'Stay home with me?'

'Give him a chance?'

'A slightly less violent solution, perhaps?'

(the latter of which he'd heard more often than he was willing to admit).

And this time, as always, he caved almost immediately, giving a rather stern nod of his head before looking toward Mimzy with an obviously strained smile on his lips.

She didn't have long, that was for sure.

If she wanted to explain, she'd better do so quickly.

And that much must have been clear, because the ex flapper started talking just about as fast as she could manage while still remaining intelligible.

And what a tale she spun, indeed.

With hurried words and a remarkably nervous expression the likes of which neither you nor your husband had ever seen Mimzy wear before, the sinner apologized profusely for not telling either of you sooner, promising that she had only been trying to make it a surprise in celebration of your anniversary.

Apparently, she had vastly overestimated how persuasive she could be, and had assumed (rather incorrectly) that Alastor would be much more urgent in his arrival to her lounge after she'd paid him a visit, meaning she hadn't exactly intended to have kept the two waiting so long for the "grand reveal" of her surprise.

And, slowly but surely, as Mimzy explained her thought process, your confusion and your husband's apparent anger all but melted away, both reactions coming to be replaced with something located somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

How very like your friend it was to meddle in such a manner, after all.

You'd missed this.

(Alastor wished dearly that he could say the same, but having been stuck alone with it for several years, he couldn't quite relate.)

Still, even he had to admit that Mimzy's actions were something far more similar to misguided kindness than intentional ill will.

Though, there was still one issue that was still bothering him...

"Mimzy."

Alastor interrupted the sinner in the middle of her ramble, watching as she immediately shut her mouth and looked up at him, a familiar bout of nervous laughter falling from her lips as she wrung her hands together.

Seeing that she was paying attention, the overlord continued,

"I understand what you were going for with your..." He trailed off for a moment before hearing you pipe up from where you stood on the other side of the bar,

"Efforts."

How amusing, it seemed that even after years of separation, not even death could sever the almost supernatural ability you had to understand what your husband was trying to say before even he truly did.

Alastor nodded,

"Exactly. But that being said, I struggle to understand one thing."

He leaned toward his old friend slightly, watching her eyes widen as he did so, clearly unsure of what was going to happen next.

"Why, pray tell, my dear, is my wife spending her precious time working at your lounge if you had every intention of returning her to me?"

The possessive tone to his voice made you blush, eyes moving to the ground as you awaited Mimzy's response.

She was quick to answer.

"Great question, dollface!"

She laughed nervously,

"I uh, I guess I kinda figured she'd know if she was down here then you would be too, so I wanted to give her a little bit of a distraction... and maybe get some extra help for a few hours in the meantime."

She admitted quietly, though by the time she was finished speaking, Alastor wasn't paying her much mind anymore, his mind now occupied with what he considered to be a far more pressing issue.

Because now that Mimzy mentioned it...

"Dearest,"

He began, immediately catching your attention as he turned to face you fully, allowing you to take in the sight of him and his new "look" for the first time since your arrival.

You would be lying if you said you weren't a fan, as different as it may have been.

"Speaking of 'down here',"

Alastor continued, amusement dancing within his eyes,

"What exactly are you doing in a place like Hell?"

Your gaze moved downward once more at that, and you cleared your throat awkwardly as you tried to find anything else to focus on.

Eventually though, you gave up, and forced yourself to meet your husband's gaze once more.

"I uh, I killed a parent..."

You muttered under your breath, immediately causing Alastor's eyes to widen slightly in surprise, one of his ears twitching slightly atop his head.

"Pardon?"

He asked in utter disbelief, unable to even begin to comprehend what he was hearing.

You, his beautiful and darling wife, had killed a parent of one of the children you taught?

Utterly unbelievable, perish the thought.

You sighed, crossing your arms in a mix of embarrassment and frustration,

"I killed a parent, Al. Lucy and Arnold's father. He was beating on them and their mama something fierce, and I saw the opportunity to put a stop to it one night when walking over to the station after work... He went down the alley between the grocers and the tailor to take a shortcut home or something like that, and I just followed him before I even knew what was really going on..."

You sounded hesitant as you spoke, eyes downcast once more until without a word, your husband pressed his gloved index finger to your chin, raising your gaze to his own once more so you could see the utter awe present there.

He was positively enamored.

"You killed Harry Wells?"

He asked, shock still coloring his tone as he watched you for your reaction.

Slowly, after a few seconds of contemplation, you nodded, cheeks still pink as you did your best to keep from trying to avoid Alastor's heavy gaze.

"I uh, yeah. I did."

The overlord sitting across from you chuckled softly, a sound that slowly grew in volume and exuberance until he was laughing outright, the familiar sound music to your ears even as he sighed and wiped a tear from his eye afterward, something he had done often in life.

He grinned even wider at you than before, the pride in his eyes obvious as he shook his head as if still in disbelief.

"And to think,"

He began, reaching across the counter to grab both of your hands so he could pull you closer, your forearms resting against the bar countertop.

"I hadn't thought it possible to love you any more than I already did."

You laughed at that, pressing your forehead against your husband's with a sigh,

"Well in that case, I suppose it's a good thing that I have all of eternity to prove you wrong, huh?"

Alastor chuckled softly, humming as he took in the sight of you, as if trying to commit each individual detail to memory.

"A good thing, indeed, dear heart."

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princeblack · 4 months

Text

Regulus wakes to a knock at the door, followed by a creaking sound as it opens immediately. Blinking bleary green eyes open, he doesn’t see anyone standing in the doorway, so he knows it’s Kreacher. Sure enough, the house elf’s voice follows. “Good morning, Young Master… Kreacher is here to wake you on behalf of Mistress’s orders. She requests you are ready to depart for King’s Cross by nine o’clock, so you must dress and eat now–”

“Yes, good morning, Kreacher…” Regulus’s voice is groggy and his patience thin, because despite how endearing it always was that the house elf took his job very seriously, it also quickly became exhausting when at the crack of dawn. “Tell Mother I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

Kreacher walks to the edge of his room, folding his hands together as big pale eyes gaze up at Regulus, who’s still in his pajamas. “Yes, Young Master. Kreacher is happy to serve…”

Sitting up, he glances down thoughtfully at the house elf. “Go make yourself some tea and have some eggs and toast, okay?”

Sometimes his mother would ‘forget’ to give the loyal house elf his breaks, something that Regulus made sure to command him to take. “That’s an order, so you must.”

The house elf sniffs a little, the way he always does when he thinks someone might be contradicting Regulus’s mother in any way, but he ultimately agrees. “Yes, Young Master… Master Regulus is generous and will make his mother proud when he’s sorted into the noble house of Slytherin.”

Regulus smiles, unable to contain his natural reaction to the elf. “And I’m looking forward to it. Now, get out of my room so I can change.”

The small house elf bows before leaving, closing the door on his way out. It leaves Regulus in silence, contemplating the future. He’s sixteen and finally going to attend Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, just like his predecessors. He would no doubt be sorted into the same house as the rest of his family, and if his home-schooling grades were to be trusted, he would be even more talented in an official academic setting. Everyone expected him to succeed, from his parents to his extended family, including Lucius and Bellatrix. They had already placed their trust and expectations in him, allowing him to attend secret and lavish meetings with the Dark Lord at the Lestrange mansion and various hidden places. Lucius would often say that Draco had much to learn from Regulus, only ‘hoping’ his son would amount to as much both magically and academically. Draco wasn’t allowed to attend the parties or meetings yet, with Lucius claiming he had maturing to do, but Regulus had met Lord Voldemort. Lucius explained he was in a specter form after Harry Potter’s ‘defeat’, in a weakened state and requiring a body to fully walk in their realm again. From what Regulus could tell, Voldemort was smart and well-spoken, only wanting to protect the wizarding world from outsiders and even itself.

It was hard for Regulus to imagine, after living in a wizard’s village the entirety of his life, why muggles would be allowed into their society when they wanted them dead for most of recorded history. Would anyone who wasn’t brought up in their ways truly understand them, or would they be biased to their muggle roots, always defending them even when the magical world was at risk? His father always said that despite the Black family’s riches, their heritage and family was the most important valuable of them all, and they were to protect their magical blood with their lives or it would bring shame upon their fathers and their fathers before them.

He’s heard from his family about the state of muggleborns at Hogwarts, being admitted in just the same as those from wizarding families. Every student was even designated to use muggle transportation to get to the school, in the name of cohesion (“That crackpot old fool doesn’t want to admit he’s boot-licking the muggles”, as Lucius had said to his father). Regulus thought it was an overreaction on his relative’s part, but he did see the fear beneath, and he felt it all around him as muggles were integrated into their society more and more. What if their secret was to be found out, and they were hunted to extinction when their numbers were already dwindled to so few? What if magic was bred out of their bloodlines completely? Even the paintings of Grimmauld Place talked about it and it was never far from the back of Regulus’s mind.

But something else that never left his mind was Sirius’s dusty room, still untouched at the topmost landing of the mansion. There were Permanent Sticking Charms on a lot of the decorations on the wall, including the Gryffindor banners hanging everywhere. Regulus had often wondered how Sirius was the only one in the family to become sorted into Gryffindor, and what exactly had happened between him and their parents that led to his disownment. But his mother and father were tight-lipped, telling Regulus he’s a murderer and a blood traitor. This didn’t quite match up with Regulus’s research, which indicated that Sirius was immediately escorted to Azkaban upon the murder of muggles in broad daylight, all because of his maddened support for the Dark Lord. But none of his family was willing to talk of the incident, and none of the death eaters either. If Sirius ever supported Lord Voldemort or if he was a fraud who de-famed their organization with careless murder in the streets, Regulus never knew. All he knew was his brother’s image was burned from the family tree and the remains of his life here were frozen in time in his bedroom at the top of the stairs.

He thinks about all of these things as he gets dressed, wearing a dark brown cable knit sweater and a black cashmere coat. It isn’t until he finishes getting ready, stopping by his bathroom, before he finally goes downstairs to greet his mother at the dining room table.

There are two plates of food already placed, his mother waiting, giving him a thin smile as he approaches. ”Well, go on. Hurry and eat up before you make your father late. He’s leaving work to pick us up in the ministry car to see you off, but he needs to get back to the office in a timely manner. There was a duel between two goblins in downtown London that needs cover-up… Blew out the side of a residential building and the muggles are in an uproar.”

A portrait of Regulus’s great grandmother, who was positioned near the entrance to the dining room, gives a derisive cough. “I say leave it blown up… The Muggle scum deserved it.”

“I quite agree, Hesper,” Regulus’s mother says, starting to eat her eggs. “But they can’t know of us, so Orion does his job dutifully.”

“I don’t have much left to pack, anyways,” Regulus says, moving to sit down. “I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life, so I’m a little over prepared…” It’s hard to even worry, he’s so prepared. He knows exactly what happens when he gets to Hogwarts and he’s positive he’ll be in Slytherin.

“Nonsense,” his mother shakes her head. “There’s no such thing as over prepared. But, Regulus, we need to talk about your priorities when you get there. I don’t want any distractions, or assosiacting with blood traitors. I hope to be able to trust you, and not lose you like we did with your brother.” Her tone is brittle, but he can see in her eyes that even the thought of Sirius has made her upset. “If I hear of you fraternizing with any of those muggle-loving fools, I’ll bring you straight back home. Do you understand?”

Regulus stiffens, not eating for a moment as he glances up at his mother. “I understand. I’m only interested in my studies, anyway.” Truth be told, he’s never liked her iron grip, telling him what he can and can’t do. But he respects his family and doesn’t want to end up alone (or worse, in Azkaban) like Sirius. Besides, she knew better, didn’t she? And the Dark Lord was a powerful wizard with influence and a community; someone he wanted to be like.

So he finishes his breakfast as his mother rattles on about his first semester, thinking about all of the belongings he needs to put in his trunk before they depart.

His father arrives late in the ministry car afforded to him by being Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. His mother ushers them all in, bickering with his father the entire way to King’s Cross. They just barely make it to the platform in time, his mother planting a kiss on his cheek and his father giving him an encouraging pat on the back before sending him on his way.

Regulus already knows what to do; pushing his trolley to the bricked barrier and running through it, magically appearing onto platform nine and three-quarters. The Hogwarts Express is exactly as he expected it to look; a large, red steam engine with billowing steam. There was a chattering crowd around him as other students said last minute goodbyes to their parents closer to the train, something that made Regulus jealous as he passed by. Instead, his father had been more concerned with his job, rushing back to the car to return to the ministry, as usual.

Compared to his family, formal and strictly business, a lot of these families seemed close almost. One girl clung to her mother in tears, as if she couldn’t bear to let her go for the term. There were animals everywhere, from cats wandering the platform to owls hooting in cages. Most everyone was starting to file onto the train, Regulus finally bringing in the rear.

Just as he reaches the stairs, he notices someone else struggling with their trunk, trying to get it up the steps. He can only see her back, but she’s wearing an orange sweater and a dark plaid skirt, matching her small brown boots. She has auburn curls and he can see flowers woven into them, which catches his interest.

Finally seeming to realize she was standing in the entrance for too long, she turns to look at him and he’s stunned into silence for a moment. She has the prettiest face he’s ever seen; a small, delicate chin, high cheek bones and big blue eyes that almost sparkle. Remembering he should probably say something, he quickly tries to cover up his reaction. “Hello,” he starts, almost nervously. This is the first person he’s spoken to that’s going to Hogwarts and isn’t from Grimswood like the Malfoys or Greengrasses or Rosiers. How was he supposed to know if she was from a pureblood family? He pushes aside the thought of his family, instead focusing on the present. “Let me help you with that,” he offers, stepping forward to take the trunk from her. His hand brushes hers as he takes the handle. Lifting it, he puts it on the top step before turning to get his own luggage so he can follow behind her. / @devcted

#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( prose ) .#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. bexley ) .#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( canon thread ) .

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wickedsrest-rp · 2 months

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Name: Kyle Pryce Species: Werewolf Occupation: Line cook at Driftwood Diner Age: 22 Years Old Played By: Knifes Face Claim: D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai

"I AM THE NIGHT AND THE MOON."

Growing up in Kingfisher First Nation, Kyle fit in like a puzzle piece. He was surrounded by family, growing along with some of his cousins who lived literally next door. At school he did well and had friends. Community was a call–or sometimes a holler from the front yard–away. That feeling of belonging started to change when his parents divorced. Kyle was 10 when his dad moved to Toronto, and Kyle spent the school years with him, only flying home to his mom over the summers. Suddenly neither house truly felt like his house. His cousins were growing up without him, his things were split between homes, and he didn’t like this new school. When he was 12, that feeling got worse. His dad wanted to move back to the area where he’d grown up to be closer to family. That was a fine sentiment, but Kyle didn’t want to move to Maine. He didn’t know anyone in America. It didn’t help that his dad must have picked the strangest place he could find. Some town that was really committed to the bit of outweirding itself daily, called Wicked’s Rest.

As weird as it was, Kyle didn’t quite fit in here either. There never seemed to be a place for him to stand out in any meaningful way. In school, his grades were at (or slightly below, if we’re being honest,) the average. He didn’t really fit in with most of his peers, and his teachers insisted that if he were to only apply himself, he would really excel. Naturally, this fed perfectly into the average teenage rebellion. The black eyeliner, the stolen cigarettes smoked in bathroom stalls, the questionable taste in music–even his emo phase was perfectly predictable. Ever summer, his mom insisted she understood what he was going through. Kyle wanted some kind of change to just hit him and turn things around.

It hit him like a truck; both the change he so desired, and the werewolf that attacked him. He was barely out of highschool at the time, 19 and biking home to downtown from work on Worm Row. Kyle had figured it would be faster to take a shortcut through the woods than to bike all the way around. A little off-roading at dusk sounded fun, too. He rode through the Wormwoods as night fell around him, carving his path through the woods with nothing but his front headlight to guide him. He could see the lights of downtown through the trees, nearly out of the woods. He hadn’t expected anything else to be in the forest. When a dog, and a big one at that, sprung up behind him, Kyle figured he could outrun it. Two wheels beats four legs anyday. The dog gave chase, and it was wicked fast. Kyle peddled for his life, but hit a fallen limb and tumbled over the handlebars of his bike. The beast was on him in an instant. He must have looked like an easy meal, but he fought off his would-be killer with every ounce of teen rage he had in him. Turns out, he had a lot of pent up angst. For the first month after the bite, the biggest threat on Kyle’s mind was rabies and the vaccinations he would have to get to prevent rabies. The first full moon gave him much more to worry about. He woke in the morning and found himself in the woods, covered in blood. He would have panicked at that, if not for the half eaten deer beside him. With all the destruction left in his wake, Kyle felt…right for once. For once in his life, he felt powerful. He was a wolf now. He had a wolf mind and body and soul. On all levels, including physical, he was a wolf. He squashed down any guilt he had about the collateral damage, and let that feeling of power fuel him. For a time, it was all he had.

Kyle’s whole demeanor began to shift. For years, all he wanted was someone, anyone, to be proud of him; he wanted approval. He wasn’t going to be anyone’s doormat anymore. He wasn’t going to be a disappointment anymore. Kyle’s few friends were quick to notice the shift in confidence and embraced it wholeheartedly. They call him “Darkhowl,” though they don’t know how accurate that is. The group went from kind of quiet loners to real assholes. If people were going to be disappointed in Kyle, he was going to give them a damn good reason. He dove headfirst into being a badass wolf and no one is going to take away his power.

Truthfully, he hasn’t changed much since then. He’s learning more and more about the supernatural side of Wicked’s Rest, and isolating himself farther and farther from who he used to be. He has fewer friends now, but that’s okay because a real wolf doesn’t need a pack to be strong.

Character Facts:

Personality: Sympathetic, resilient, adventurous, moody, stubborn, impulsive

Kyle is still an edgy emo kid, he’s just an edgy emo twenty-something now. He wants to fit in, but in like a “you don’t understand me, mom” kind of way.

He’s picked up howling. Just at random. It’s kind of a problem.

He has several (questionable) werewolf related tattoos; just really putting it all out there. The most notable of which is “I AM THE NIGHT AND THE MOON” across his chest.

He and his dad live together in an apartment above a shop downtown.

#bio #taken #taken werewolf #taken shifter #shifter #werewolf #d'pharaoh woon a tai

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direjoon · 9 days

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SYZYGY [2]

✩ pairing: alpha namjoon x chubby fem!omega reader

✩ genre: wonderous , soulmates , strangers to "friends" to lovers , fluff , romance🔞 , life lessons , slice-of-life , brief angsty situations , happy ending

✩ word count: 4.9k

✩ chapter warnings: cussing , cover art does not depict fmc features, mention and feeling of throwing up but no throw up !

✩ summary: Namjoon would say that he truly lives the normal life. As an alpha, he works the job he wants, he goes out when he has time, and he has never received a single late-fee on payments. He's living the mundane life- until an unknown omega literally drops into his life. Where did she come from? Why him?

✩ cover: me

ch.1, ch.2 ...

Namjoon

“This fish must have a really good hiding spot, I haven’t been able to find it since yesterday.” Y/N kneels in front of his nightstand where a small decorative bowl of water and plants sit in a bed of rocks.

Namjoon has been trying to work all morning. (Trying to answer all of Y/N’s questions while he also listens to the track over and over again while trying to make edits on it while Y/N is lingering around his desk like a lost puppy.)

“There’s no fish, it’s just a moss ball.”

“A ball of moss? I guess that’s a pet, just like a potted plant would be. Why did you decide to get one?”

“They’re cute.” Namjoon gives a genuine answer and a shrug.

“Very cute.” She agrees with a whisper almost too quiet for him to hear with one un-covered ear.

The room quiets down for a moment of familiar peace, only for Y/N to flop back onto Namjoon’s bed with a heavy sigh. This change in his routine isn’t annoying or unwanted, but the sudden change is proving to be harder to get used to than he thought it’d be. He really can’t risk taking a last-minute day off of this project, and even then he always has projects. He can’t be mad people like his work, so-

“Do you want me to see if one of my friends would take you out to do something today?” He turns to ask, meeting an excited looking Y/N whose head pops up immediately at the prospect. Her scent sweetens beautifully- he’ll definitely have to make her happy or excited more often.

Jimin is easy to convince, especially when Namjoon tells him he’ll pay him for a day’s worth of work. He doesn’t even have to pay the kid to skip work for a day, but he thought it’d only be right- especially since Y/N can take his card, allowing them both to just have a budget for the day.

The only catch- he didn’t tell Jimin what he’d be doing.

“Wait, she’s that omega from last night!” Jimin is more excited than anything at first, probably hoping Namjoon has been lying about how lonely he’s been.

“Her name is Y/N-” She gives an excited wave to Jimin, “and you are going to take her out and do something with her today.”

“Something?”

“Anything she desires or you see fit, because I can’t put off work and she doesn’t want to be inside right now.” Namjoon tries to explain as simply as possible.

“Wait..” Jimin can’t help but let out an awkward laugh, obviously not fully understanding the situation. “I’m sorry, could I get a proper introduction from her instead of you talking about her like she’s a dog.” Jimin’s quip sounds light-hearted but it smacks Namjoon in the face.

“I’m Y/N, I’m Namjoon’s gifted omega from The Goddess.” She gives him another small wave. “I’m excited to meet one of Namjoon’s friends. What was your name again?”

Jimin gives an annoyed look to Namjoon. He knows that look all too well. Namjoon is avoidant and focused only on his life, especially during work hours. He doesn’t like to multitask, and will always focus on his work over anything else.

“You have an omega gifted from The Goddess, a literal gift for you, and-”

Namjoon must be looking at him in a certain way to get Jimin to stop talking. He knows how awful he looks, and he definitely isn’t proud of it, but he really couldn’t put off work for anything. He barely got time to visit his parents when his grandmother passed away- this definitely wouldn’t be reason enough. He’s helpless and hopeless in the same moment, a shell of what an alpha should be. The least he could give her is an experience with an alpha that is pleasant and soft until he has time to focus on her.

“I’m Jimin, it’s nice to meet you Y/N.” Jimin coolly shifts his attention to Y/N with his memorable smile. “Are you hungry? Should we get some food first?”

“Yes! Whatever’s your favorite is fine.” She meets him at the door, turning only to give Namjoon a soft smile that he doesn’t deserve. “I’m going with Jimin, I’m letting you know per our rules.” She can’t contain her excitement while looking at him, her heavenly sweet scent pooling out to make his heart ache and clench uncomfortably at the realization that she’ll be gone without him- happy and experiencing new things. He steps forward to meet her as she finishes putting on her new shoes.

“Here, use my card for whatever you do today.” He slips the card to Jimin to keep in his wallet, then looks back down to her. “Be careful please.” He looks at her with intent then to Jimin with a trusting nod.

“I will. I’ll make sure to stay with Jimin.” She knows what to say to comfort him despite just having met. What should he do? How should he meet her halfway right now?

He instinctively reaches out for her hand, she lets him have it with no question. With her hand he wraps her around his own wrist, directing himself towards her neck. She understands his gesture immediately, bringing him up to rub his scent into the soft skin of her neck- her jaw, her cheek.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” She whispers up at him, awe glittering in her eyes. All he can do to keep himself calm is not open his damn mouth, giving her a small smile and nod. It felt right, that’s all that matters. It’s not a big deal that he just scented an omega for the first time.

With everything moving very fast in his book, Namjoon has finally decided to do some long awaited research.

It’s quite easy to find blog posts and ‘asks’ on sites that are trying to reach out to others that share the same experience of ‘being gifted’. He reads through all of them, trying to understand why it all feels like it’s absolutely meant to be, instead of feeling forced and strange in unpleasant ways.

‘I was gifted an alpha, one that I think is far too perfect for me- what do I do?’

Many hit far too close to home, and he takes even more time rereading those and their replies.

‘I was gifted an omega and know of no one else, personally, that has had the same experience. I understand we connect just as I would with any omega that was to be my mate, but why is it so overwhelming and intense emotionally. It feels like I’ve known them forever.’

He scrolls through the replies, stopping to take all the information he can find into consideration. He starts with the top commenter, a reply that has over 5k thumbs up.

‘Sadly, The Goddess and her ways are not scientifically researched and we cannot run tests on anything associated with Her. But, please know you’re not alone when you describe your experience. I have taught gender studies for the past 15 years and have gotten a question similar to this a few times- as well as read many writings containing interviews of mates containing a gift, doctors who have come into contact with those in the mated pairs, and even random users on social media such as you. I will always tell them the same thing. Do what feels right. Our second genders will always want to protect and claim when we find the one for us, that is no difference in this case. And even more special in these instances, you are to be a perfect match, making your scents and chemistry far more heavy and attracted to one another. I always recommend lots of communication and time to be put into these pairs, as your gift is learning so, so much and you now have a sort of responsibility to them. Our second genders make caring and dedication an easier adjustment, but these could go against your once beliefs, so I would say just make sure to take things at a pace that, again, feels right. Forcing space or uncomfortable time in between what is supposed to be a literal gift from The Goddess hurts you and your mate. Please read further if you are still confused, I’ll add some recommendations down below when I’ve compiled a list!’

Before he scrolls through the list of reading recommendations, he checks the replies to that specific comment. If there is someone talking about different instances, he can find some that want to talk about their experience under that post. He’s lucky, and finds a variety. Some say they waited until their partner’s rute or heat, while those gifted with a beta waited until their own mating cycles. That would give him time, he thinks. Others said the pull towards their partner was far too strong, making them immediately obsessed with each other in ways that they’ve never experienced before.

As he scrolls and scrolls his phone ringing stuns him out of his focus. Seokjin is calling, which means-

“Yeah, hyung.”

“Why did I just learn from Jimin that you have a gifted omega? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me.”

“It’s been…stressful trying to adjust.” A moment of silence has Namjoon checking the phone screen to see if his hyung hung up on him. Yep, he’s still on the line. And yes, he will be getting an earful.

“You have your fated mate and you’re stressed? You- What are you doing having your omega spend time with another alpha while you’re at home working?”

“She wants to explore and try new things and I’m always holed up in here, hyung.” Namjoon says with more irritation than he wants to admit is adding up. “I can’t risk losing my job.”

“You are the company’s top producer, they could cut you some slack and give you time off while you deal with life-changing events.”

“No, no they won’t. I’m stuck in a contract that makes it impossible to have a sudden time-off. Everything I plan is at least 5 months in advance.”

“I’m going to tell you something right now that will pertain to multiple things in your life, maybe even all of them. Okay?”

“Okay.” Namjoon sighs into the phone, staring at his computer where five emails just sent today are waiting for his response.

“You’re talented and successful in ways that many could only dream of, but if it’s not working at this company, you need to try something else. If you need time to adjust to something and your work is heavily against you progressing in life, then you need to try something else. If you’re not happy, try something else. You understand?”

It takes him by surprise every time Seokjin gets all fatherly on him. He’s never offered the same to Seokjin, but he also knows that his hyung would never want advice from a sour, work-obsessed, plan-crazy kid that doesn’t know how to have serious romantic relationships or even healthy relationships with anything in life.

“I understand.”

“Whatever you need help with, just let me know. Send over your contract and I’ll read it over by this weekend. And Namjoon?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like her?”

The question catches him off guard. Of course he does, she’s perfect.

“Yes.”

“Act like it. Talk to her about more than just mundane life things, ask her questions, learn everything you can about her and please, dear Goddess, allow her to know you.”

“Yes, hyung.”

Jimin

“What is this place?” Y/N’s hands and nose are plastered to the passenger side window, looking out at the large rides and glittering lights that can be seen even in the afternoon.

“My favorite place, an amusement park.”

“What a fitting name, I’m very amused.”

Jimin can’t help but be absolutely floored by the comment. She’s too precious, far more precious than him- and that says a lot. He parks in the large, annoying lot of the park and looks over to her to gauge if this is something she actually wants to do.

“Good, because we’ll eat here and then ride some rides, sound good?”

“Yes, please.” She immediately unbuckles and pops her door open to begin the long walk to the gates.

After paying for two day passes and starting another journey to Jimin’s favorite food stall, he watches as Y/N takes in everything as if she’s going to be reciting every last ballon color spotted to Namjoon once we’re done.

“So, this is your favorite place?” She suddenly looks to him to ask.

“Uh, yeah, I came here a lot growing up and I still like getting my favorite snack and riding a couple rides like once a month.” He answers honestly.

“How fun!” She again turns to continue eyeing whatever as they walk. Jimin is far too curious to keep quiet about their living arrangements, and how exactly Namjoon is coping with everything. He goes to ask, when Y/N gasps and meets a kid about seven feet in front of them and points at the ice cream cone in his hand. The swirls of the cone are a pastel blue that perfectly compliment the obvious vanilla white of the rest of the ice cream. The top of the cone is already lapped at, but it really does look good.

“Where did you get that?” She asks, looking between the boy and their parent that holds their hand.

“‘Patty’s’, it’s just around the corner, big blue sign.” Their parent answers with a smile before continuing on with her small child also smiling up at Y/N.

“I really want to try that.” She turns to Jimin, more so asking than suggesting. How could anyone say no to her?

“You’re in luck, that’s where we were heading anyways.” Jimin sing-songs, leading the way to the small establishment. “Let’s eat first though, so we don’t get sick.”

Jimin orders for them, Y/N content on sitting at their table to save the spot and look out the large windows at all the passersby. He doesn’t wait long, happily tapping away at his crossed arms as he leans against one of the walls. He brings the tray filled with goodies to the table, Y/N beaming up at him and then to the tray he's holding.

"Wow, they all look so good. What is everything?"

"I think you'll find that Joon-hyung and I have similar taste- greasy, fattening, yummy foods. This is a corn dog, the least exciting. It's like a little kid's favorite food, easily palatable. These are spicy, sweet dipped chicken strips. Literally the perfect food- seasoned fries on the side. And the best for last, strawberry shortcake funnel cakes."

She eyes the food hungrily, trying to decide what to taste first. The look on her face is pure expecting excitement- he doesn’t understand how his hyung could pass up the chance to see her try new things again and again and again. She has a fresh new outlook on everything, and is excited to do everything. Even he can understand why she was gifted to him- but, would it even matter if he's too scared to allow himself to see the way she does?

"Go ahead, try in the order I suggested. We'll half-sies everything so we don't get too full."

It's extremely easy for them both to finish. Y/N eats well and makes everything look like it tastes better than it does. He's happy to have someone that enjoys his favorites as well. After promising her an ice cream after their fun, they head off to their next destination.

"Okay, now we walk to digest a bit and then, we ride."

"Eee! How exciting! What are they like?" She asks, looking up at the tall roller coaster nearest to them.

"Thrilling, scary, exciting. There are smaller ones and then, of course, the big ones. We'll start small just in case you don't like the adrenaline."

"Okay!"

Namjoon

It's already seven in the evening and Namjoon is actually done with his work early. He can't help but immediately hate his empty apartment, deciding to keep himself busy by preparing a late dinner. A large pan of pasta later, Namjoon gets tired of waiting and instead just calls Jimin. Luckily, his friend picks up immediately.

“Where are you guys at?” Namjoon asks, trying to hide his concern.

“She won’t get off the damn swings hyung. We left the amusement park and, because I forgot to get her the ice cream I promised, we stopped at a small ice cream shop just for her to find a children’s park. I’ve been watching her swing for the past 15 minutes.”

“Just tell her it’s late.”

“Again, she’s not a dog or a child, she just wants to have fun, I can’t say no to her.” Jimin explains.

‘I feel sick.’ Namjoon suddenly hears being yelled in the distance.

“Shit, I think she’s gonna be sick, I gotta go.”

“No, don’t hang up-” The line clicks to show it’s disconnected. ‘Fuck’ he mumbles to himself before grabbing his keys and an extra jacket before leaving as quickly as possible.

He doesn’t know where they are, but he can guess. Leaving the amusement park, there are about 15 dessert shops in the vicinity, and only one ice cream shop is close enough to a playground to be the right one. He finds Jimin’s car parked in front of the shop he guessed correctly, quickly unbuckling and bringing along his jacket to head to the park.

“You’re going to be fine, just bend forward, put your head as close to your knees as you can. Oh- I smell hyung.” He hears them before he spots them, but quickly makes his way towards the voice to find Y/N sitting on the swing, now stationary and leaning forwards as far as possible. He quickly closes their distance, just about ignoring Jimin to kneel in front of Y/N.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He asks as softly as possible, his instincts kicking in to assess her in ways that don’t even make sense in this situation. He’s holding onto her ankles and squeezing up her calves as if she hurt her legs, inspecting. Then he feels her arms, immediately putting the jacket around her as she is cold to the touch.

“Mm-okay.” She mumbles to him, “I jus’ need a second.”

“Okay.” He stands, a glare pointed at Jimin without thinking twice about who he needs to point his anger and adrenaline towards. Jimin immediately puts his hands up.

“Do not get scary alpha on me after I did what you told me to do. I made sure she didn’t get sick earlier, this time around she was just too fast for me to keep up with her.” He defends himself, causing Namjoon to calm down just the slightest. He gets a grip on himself, knowing he shouldn’t be mad at Jimin. He helped him and unknowingly showed him that he shouldn’t have let Y/N do this without him. He let her have fun and allowed her to try new things. He’s extremely thankful- he just needs to get a tighter grip onto his alpha.

“I’m sorry. And thank you for spending time with her while I was busy. I will- I’m trying to change my work situation, so-”

“Well that’s good- just, just open up to her about things, yeah? And let some of this alpha out once in a while to fucking cool it a little.”

“Yeah, okay.” He will admit, he didn’t even think about how he’d act the second he got there. But he didn’t think he’d immediately point fingers and push some kind of blame onto the person he asked for help. “You can head home. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

Namjoon sticks out his hand to wait for Jimin to plop his credit card into his hand. Jimin does so with a sad smirk, obviously thinking his hyung would forget something so crucial in the moment.

“It’s okay. She’s sweet and she sees things differently, it was nice to feel excited about things again.” Jimin gives him a smile and a pronounced clap on his shoulder as he walks past Namjoon and in the direction of his car. “Can you get home safe?” He points a finger to Y/N.

“Yeah don’t worry. Text me when you get home.”

“Same to you.”

Namjoon waits for Jimin to get to his car before turning back to Y/N, finding her in the exact same position. He again kneels in front of her, assessing her scrunched up face. He relies only on his instincts, letting his alpha take over more than he’s ever allowed.

“Come here, I’ll carry you.”

“What if I throw up on you?” Namjoon rolls his eyes with a smile, his alpha yearning to touch and soothe after their time apart.

“I don’t care about throw up, I care about getting you home to be warm and safe. Plus, I have medicine at home to help your stomach.”

“Goddess it hurts.” Namjoon can’t help but be endeared by her in this state, soft and needy.

“Come on.” He urges again, standing up to offer both of his hands to her. She looks up and immediately holds onto him, standing and putting the jacket on with a shivering sound.

“Now, hold on tight.” It’s the only warning he gives before bending down and hoisting her up by the thighs. She gives a small noise but immediately seems to understand and wraps her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck. Her face digs into his neck without a second thought, causing Namjoon to stutter his steps. He corrects himself and heads for the car, happy to have her around him and snuggling into his warm skin.

He misses the warmth immediately upon setting her into the passenger seat, and buckling her in so she doesn’t have to move a muscle. The ride is silent, allowing Y/N to rest and warm up with the heater on. Again, he hurries to her side of the car upon their arrival to the apartment. He picks her up again, this time she’s prepared and snuggling into him with comfortability- his neck immediately opens for her as if she’s always been there to carve a space for herself. On their way up to the apartment, his alpha is calmed down enough to talk more comfortably.

“Did you have fun today?” He asks into her shoulder.

“Mmhmm.” Her hum is felt in his skin, shooting down his spine to slather goosebumps onto his skin.

“That’s good.” He breathes out.

It’s silent again until he’s unlocking the apartment door with one hand holding onto her. She’s clinging onto him just as much as he is to her, so it’s easy enough. He shuts and locks the door, only letting Y/N down once they’re back in his bedroom. He sets her onto the bed.

“Wait, I have outside clothes on.” She worries.

“Don’t worry, let me grab some medicine, stay there.”

Though he promises to only return with medicine, he stops in the bathroom, starting up a warm bath and setting a towel out onto the counter before proceeding back to his room.

“Here, you can just chew it, and then you can have a warm bath to help with the ache and to warm you up, yeah?”

“That sounds so good, Namjoon, thank you.” She takes the pink tablet from his hand, immediately popping it in and chewing it before heading for the bathroom. He clings onto the way she says his name, wishing briefly that he didn’t keep things casual for now- Goddess he wants to hear her call him her alpha once again.

“Call me if you need anything.” He says instead, turning to the bed to strip off the blanket he sat her on, making sure it was his own blanket when setting her down. He finds another blanket in his closet, replacing it and grabbing Y/N’s top blanket to throw in the dryer. He then stops at the kitchen, putting water into his electric water heater. He grabs one coffee mug, setting a tea bag into the cup and turning to his cooked dinner to put it away into tupperware for the next day.

Once the tea is done, he brings the hot mug into his room to sit on her side of the bed. He sets out that same pair of sleep shirts he cleaned for her earlier that day and grabs another random shirt for her to slip on. He changes his own clothes, paying attention to the sound of a draining tub. Perfect timing. He turns to meet Y/N, her perfectly sweet scent, and her very bare arms and legs. He didn’t exactly think about that.

“I’m sorry, go ahead and get changed, I’ll be in the living room.” He says without a second thought, heading out and plopping down onto the couch with a sigh. He’ll plan that better next time to make sure she’s as comfortable as possible. It doesn’t take long before she’s calling him in and he hurries to grab the blanket he warmed for her.

“Here, so you can be even warmer.” Y/N holds onto the blanket like he’s gifted her something far more magnificent. Nothing he does will ever deserve this response, but he soaks it up anyways.

“Thank you.”

“And there’s warm tea on your nightstand. Do you want anything else? Do you want something light to eat?”

“No. No this is perfect. I’m already feeling better thanks to you. But-” She looks down at the blanket she’s holding, seeming to figure out how to ask something. Namjoon waits, wanting her to take her time with whatever she needs.

“Could I hug you? Is that something you wouldn’t be ready for?” Namjoon finds the question precious in timing. He had just suggested she cling to him earlier, allowing her to find comfort in him. He also appreciates her taking his feelings into consideration anyways. He can’t say he’s been obvious in his wants anyways- it’s been a constant push and pull in this short time, wanting to give in and not just to make sure he’s pure in all his feelings.

Without answering verbally, Namjoon allows his alpha to take what he wants now that he has the consent from Y/N. He pulls her in with both of his arms, warm blanket squished between them and adding to the warmth that blooms in his chest.

“I missed you.” She mumbles a sigh into his chest.

“I missed you too.” He responds honestly. His sappy feelings and the come down from letting his alpha have more of a role in their relationship has him wanting to be more honest than ever. He can also thank Seokjin for that.

“Can I suggest another rule?” Namjoon asks, the two still clinging to each other.

“Mmhmn.”

“Please let me know when you want something from me. I’m not used to being intimate in- anyway really. This is new to me, but I want to work to be better for you and to learn as much as I can. So, just let me know if there’s something I can do for you.”

Y/N pulls back to stare up at Namjoon with her arms still securely on his waist. Her soft features and emotional eyes search him for something he can’t figure out.

“I appreciate everything you give me. I know that giving yourself to someone is hard in any case. You’re still a good alpha no matter what. I feel safe with you, and I want to learn everything about you. I just want us both to be comfortable- so please let me know if you need something from me as well. It’s 100/100, not 50/50.”

Namjoon can’t help but bring his hand up to cup Y/N’s cheek, her eyes still glittering up at him. A soft smile pulls at her lips that draws Namjoon’s attention immediately. If he was far more reckless, or far more comfortable taking without devotion, Namjoon would kiss her there and then. But, he’d never think about giving her less than she deserves. Only by accident will he, and only before this moment will he.

“You’re so pretty…and you’re far too good for me.” he whispers as his thumb caresses the skin of her cheek in gentle circles. She goes to open her mouth, probably to counter his statement. He speaks first. “I’ll learn to be good for you. I promise.” The statement has Y/N inhaling a shaky breath and keeps her silent for far longer than Namjoon realizes. If he could, he'd sit and take in her lovely scent all night and all day, relishing in the feeling of happy omega and the fact that he's the one that did that. But, he knows it's already late and he has kept her from sleep for too long.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Despite the day and their confessions, their night is the same as the one before. Namjoon can’t let one day with fresh promises be this turning point that just allows him to be rewarded the gift that is Y/N in full. He must earn her in ways that he still needs to prove to her and himself. They will get there. They will get to a point where both Namjoon and Y/N take and give with practiced passion and love. Because that’s what she deserves.

#bts au #bts fic #namjoon au #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #namjoon x reader #alpha namjoon #bts abo #bts omegaverse au

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moriartyluver · 10 months

Text

FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER XI

"THANK YOU SO MUCH, Lord Moriarty. I have no more regrets. I give this life, to you.."

It had been nearly two years since William and (name) had been married and officially become husband and wife. After their honeymoon in (home country), which wasn't much of a honeymoon due to (name) constantly working to help her parents even though they didn't need her help, they had returned to England and (name) had moved in with William and his brothers, taking Josephine with her.

Currently though, (name) was in (home country). She had been for the past five months now. Alone. Well not entirely alone considering she had her closest aide with her, who was now 18 years of age, (oh how time flies. (Name) felt like a proud mother, and certainly related to her father when he had seen her for the first time in a while when she got engaged) and was there to keep her company. She was quite vague when she described what she would be doing before she left but William had deduced it would have something to do with the diplomatic relations of (home country).

The household had recently felt a lot quieter and silent following (name)'s departure. The sound of (name) and William childishly bickering over ridiculous things — although it was a lot more (name) than william — and Josephine giggling at her lady's behaviour. The nights were also lonely. Although William and (name) had agreed upon separate rooms being used, the two stayed up together frequently until they fell asleep on desks covered in papers and plans beneath the comforting warm candle light.

It wasn't just William who missed their presence though. Albert had missed going to parties full of nobles with (name), which were usually almost obligatory for the nobles with titles or their heirs, as they silently judged everyone. Louis had missed cooking and doing housework with Josephine as they both worried over their brother and mistress respectively and teaching (name), who had no experience in housework, to cook or clean.

"I'm glad I've given you hope. Would you like to try living a little longer?" William asked Michelle who looked slightly confused at his question. "Well to tell you the truth, I received a similar request from Mr baton, saying that if it was to save you, he would gladly lay down his life." He confessed.

The dark haired woman looked at her husband, warmth and comfort enveloping her as she finally realised how much her husband truly cared for her.

"Please remember you have someone dear to you."

Albert and Louis glanced at each other with a knowing look, they had both been thinking the same thing.

"Don't you want some sort of reward..?" Mrs Baton asked, feeling guilty about not having anything to give William in return if she did keep living.

"The country is full of rotten people. I want to create an ideal world for everyone. As per the contract, you may keep your lives." William smiled "Until that day I create that world, you must hold onto your lives dearly. That's an order."

The tears Michelle had been holding back had finally started spill as she gave William a melancholic smile."You stole my reason to die, and gave me a reason to live. For that I am forever grateful. I'll stay with you until my life runs out."

The couple smiled at each other, the slowly fading embers of their marriage suddenly catching flame once more.

"I see you've both made up..." the elderly woman from the market said "young professor, I would like to ask you for your advice..." William nodded for the woman to continue

"Mr baton's grapefruits dont sell well. They're too sour. What should I do?"

William gave the woman a polite smile as he granted her some advice "Let them rest for a while. The sourness should calm down."

As the three brothers left to return to their manor while the sun began to set, Albert spoke up.

"I believe that couple cherish each other dearly..it's certainly a wonder in such a disgusting world that we currently reside in." He said, although his words seemed to be implying a double meaning

A few weeks later, a letter had come in the mail addressed to William from none other than his currently absent wife. He had been receiving letters from her multiple times a week, usually consisting of (name) giving William advice on his crime consultant work or William giving (name) advice on how to deal with certain difficulties she had faced in (home country).

Each morning since she had left, the first thing William would do would be to read his wife's letters and reply almost immediately. It had become routine to him.

William took the letter from Louis with a 'thank you', rather eagerly, but Louis had grown used to his brother's newfound habit now. He opened it quickly and read through it carefully, admiring the little quirks he would see in (name)'s handwriting.

Dear William,

How did the dinner with the Baron go? I'm glad I was able to be of use to you in researching Dublin's heart medication. My father had been on a similar one recently, ( a useful coincidence) which brings me to my next point.

Before you begin writing, I must let you know that you need not reply to another one of my letters. Once this letter arrives, I shall likely be boarding the train to Durham or perhaps I'm already home with you now. Hopefully the ship arrives as soon as possible. Josephine and I are due back in England for, I believe, the 23rd of may, so expect me by Tuesday afternoon.

I apologise once again for missing your birthday, even if you do not feel particularly attached to it. I'm glad the postal services were competent enough to send you my gifts. The cane I had crafted by a sword-smith from (home country) should hopefully be a better alternative to your previous one and a lot more discreet at that. I hope that, along with the rest of the gifts and the money I had sent, are to your taste.

I look forward to seeing you once more,

Yours faithfully,

(Name)

P.s I hope when you say I plague your dreams, you aren't having nightmares of me. I'm not that scary...I think..

William hadn't known the exact date (name) would return from (home country), in fact he feared she wouldn't return at all. Coincidentally, this day in particular was the Tuesday that (name) would return to England. Thankfully he had cancelled his lecture for the day so he would be able to greet his wife at the train station in the afternoon. (Name)'s room was already set out for her, beside William's and above Josephine's room downstairs, so the preparations for her to return were already complete despite her visit to her place of birth being indefinite. If he were to use the excuse that he hadn't had his lunch yet, he could probably convince (name) to dine with him after settling into Durham.

"Brother? Are you alright? You've been staring at the letter for the past five minutes..did something happen to Lady (name)?" Louis asked with concern. He had grown to like his sister-in-law ,despite her multiple attempted murders against William, and would hate for anything negative to happen to her.

William turned to Louis and smiled "(name)'s perfectly fine. She's returned to England and is currently taking the train to London along with Miss Evans."

Louis returned the smile and nodded "I'm glad."

"William!"

(Name) waved and ran towards her husband at the train station, with Josephine following behind, repeatedly telling her to calm down. Of course, she didn't listen and continued until she tripped over her own undone shoelace.

William caught her in his arms and helped her regain her composure, allowing her to stand up straight whilst a breathless Josephine caught up.

"I..Hah..told you..my lady..you shouldn't ru..run.." she put her hands on her knees as she tried to steady her breath.

"My apologies, you're alright, aren't you, William?" (Name) asked her smiling husband who chuckled.

"I'm fine, dear. How was your journey?" He asked before noticing her undone shoelace. He sat (name) down nearby on a bench and kneeled down to tie his wife's shoelace, despite her protests before standing up and holding out his arm for her to take while they walked home.

As the couple walked back, William had filled (name) in on the case in the paper he had read of and what he had planned to do regarding it, along with informing her of the return of Moran and Fred. He had also thanked her for the birthday gifts (which were a large variety of things. William had to turn down having (name) buy him a brand new estate along with many other extravagant gifts.) she had sent him in her absence.

William had learnt, in his year of knowing (name), that she expressed her affection mainly through gift giving, so he would find it difficult to reject any extravagant gifts she would send, but the had advised her not to do instead, her main gift this year had been a little cane with a sword hidden inside. It was specially crafted and designed which he had appreciated very much and it was possibly his favourite birthday gift he had ever received. (Name)'s gifts usually held that title.

Once they had returned home and been guided to their designated rooms, William had asked (name) out to eat.

(Name) normally would have refused anything remotely romantic, but she was tired and hungry and she had promised William she would go to eat at a café or restaurant with him in exchange for missing his birthday, and besides, he was tired and he hadn't had his lunch yet. She couldn't turn him down after being gone for five months.

"I've only been here for a couple of hours but I already like Durham.." (name) said as the waiter brought them their meal "Considering we're the only noble family, it means we have more opportunities to interact with the commoners, who are a lot more down to earth than even the kindest nobles."

William nodded with a smile as he cut his fried egg "We've made some good allies in this town.." he said "All the more reason to continue making this world a better place."

"Indeed..Colonel Moran and Fred are to arrive by the evening, correct?" She asked before she sipped on her tea

"The plan has already been set in motion..everything should go according to plan.." William said "How staying with your parents, pleasant, I assume?"

"It was..father was ill for a while, although I already wrote about that in my letters," (name) said as she moved the food around on her plate "I suppose it was rather stressful though..my father works as an advisor for the royals of (home country) and so does my mother, but because he wasn't able to attend any meetings, I had to go in his stead.."

"I'm sure you did wonderfully," her husband glanced at her player and then back at his. Hers was still full of the meal she had ordered whereas his was nearly empty. "Are you feeling alright, love? You haven't eaten much.."

(Name) sighed and nodded "I'm fine..just don't have much of an appetite right now..I ate a lot on the train anyways and the journey was rather tiring"

Of course, William easily saw through this lie, but didn't directly address it and instead took her fork, picked up some of her food and flew it to her mouth, as if he were feeding a child.

"What the.." (name) muttered, leaning away. "I'm not an infant, I can feed myself."

William gave a teasing smirk "Oh, but my darling (name), you seem so tired, I, as your ever so loving husband, should help you."

The fork was still hovering against (name)'s mouth. She rolled her eyes "Not even half a day back with you and you still find a way to irritate me beyond measure" she opened her mouth, allowing William to feed her.

While she was chewing, she watched as an old lady approached them while they sat outside with a smile.

"Ah, young professor, who's this lovely lady?" She asked. It seemed she already knew him, although not enough to recognise (name) as his wife.

William held (name)'s hand in his own and smiled politely "This is my wife, I've already mentioned her previously."

The old woman's eyes widened as she looked over to the grumpy woman, who had instantly put on a facade of an elegant and loving wife and smiled. "So this is her? The famous Lady (name) Moriarty?"

(Name) smiled and looked confused "Huh- I mean, pardon?"

Ms Suzanne looked at the woman and bowed with a mischievous smile "Your husband has mentioned you a few times, he seems to very fond of you.."

(Eye colour) eyes widened then quickly returned to their previous state, flickering over to William who was avoiding eye contact. "Is that so?" She hummed with smile, masking her true intentions which were to tease William all the way home as revenge for feeding her.

Once their little date was over (with (name) pestering William regarding what he had been saying about her to the villager, yet he refused to answer, clearly flustered. Now she understood why William would tease her often, (name) realised, it was incredibly entertaining to see the reaction of the other party.

After having killed Dudley Bale, the Durham University treasurer and landowner for the sake of avenging Frida, William returned home late that night, along with Moran and Fred who had now both been taken in under the guise of being servants.

Thankfully, he had thought, there wasn't any blood on his clothes, so returning didn't cause any issues in terms of being discreet. The door to William's office was open, a slim crack between the door and the door flame, allowing the candlelight to shine through. A pale hand reached over to push the door open slowly, only to see a sleeping (name) at his desk. There was a copy of Twelfth Night that had fallen onto the floor, clearly dropped by his wife when she drifted off to sleep. He kneeled down beside her and nudged her slightly, hoping to wake her up so he could take her to bed and ask why she was there.

(Name)'s eyelashes fluttered open to reveal her (eye colour) eyes. She looked over at William and yawned tiredly "You're finally back.." she muttered

"Were you waiting for me?" He asked as (name) stretched and took her book that William was handing to her.

(Name) glared at him and returned his smile with an irritated frown "of course not..I was just reading and looking at some of the stuff you have planned for the next few weeks.."

"Ah you were just sitting in my office for no particular reason?" William chuckled and helped her up "we can discuss plans another time. You must be tired from travelling so much recently.."

" 'm not tired.." (name) was saying before being interrupted by another yawn.

"Do you want me to carry you to bed?" The blond teased "Or would you rather have me hold you in my arms whilst you sleep?"

"Hey remember what Ms Suzanne said earlier today?" The noble lady retorted, referring to the incident earlier that day "What is it you were saying, dear professor? You seem to be quite fond of your wife, sir."

"Enough of that..." Came William's stern reply, his grin now turning into a straight and annoyed face, as if their dynamic had completely swapped.

"Oh but professor, how could you say such a thing to your darling wife!"

BONUS:

The amount of servants in the Moriarty manor was slowly increasing... but..

"Hey Louis! The booze's already empty here!" Called a gruff voice. Louis turned to moran, trying to hold back his annoyance

"Mr Moran, are you feeling like a guest here..?" Louis asked the man who was lounging around on the sofa, drinking beer.

Moran smirked "What? Isn't it obvious"

Louis looked down at him "in this house, those who don't work aren't regarded as human by us." He said bluntly. A snort could be heard from a certain brunette who was cleaning a glass cabinet with a duster.

"What?!"

The blond sighed "Brother Albert is working in the military , Brother William's teaching at the university, Josephine is already good at housework and sister..I mean Lady (name) does her fair share of chores despite not being used to it while she waits for a job from Durham." Louis said "and even Fred is tending to the garden."

Moran looked out of the door to see Fred crouched besides a rose bush.

"He even picked up bullets at the bridge last night.."

"Wait I didn't come here to work as a servant!! Moran looked surprised and went to the patio where (name) and William sat together with a cup of tea. "(Name)! You're the mistress of the house! Say something...!"

"I could care less." She said, not even batting an eye as she elegantly rose her teacup to her lips. Another (louder) snort was heard.

Moran turned to her husband "William! We swore it in front of the tomb, right?!"

William smiled "Of course Moran, I'm going to hire you."

"Huuuuuh?!" Cue an even louder laugh.

"We'll take everything step by step, right?" William reasoned "so please help Louis until the next job comes"

"In the end that's still the same!!"

Louis guided the semi-drunk man away "Now come on, Mr Moran."

A/N: finally moving onto the main plot hehe. Fl seems to have warmed up to liam over the nearly two years they’ve been married aww. Of course nothing is ever easy when I’m the author so I wonder what fate may befall fl in the next few chapters 👀 😈

#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #mtp william #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuumori x reader

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empressofthesunwriter · 6 months

Text

Blood of my Blood

Mayako Namikaze was 21 years old when she lost her beloved older brother Minato Namikaze and her sister-in-law Kushina Uzumaki. Now the simple seamstress must raise her nephew Naruto in a village full of hate and a world full of pain.

Can she turn him into a good man?

Can she as a civilian even help Naruto reach his goal of becoming Hokage?

Only time will tell.

Prologue: October 10th

Other than her dear brother Minato, Mayako never saw the appeal of the shinobi life.

Partelly because she couldn’t stomach the sight of blood as she saw one day their father nearly die of blood loss after hurting himself with a huge kitchen knife.

She still felt sick when she saw this type of knife.

Brrr!

No, killing people meant blood, so Mayako decided not to follow Minato into the Ninja Academy.

Instead, she enrolled into a civilian school and became a seamstress, specialised in Ninja Gear.

Not to gloat, but Mayako was the best in her craft. Her old Sensei told her, she had a gift for making clothes.

The gear she made was fashionly and practical.

More the Shinobi Forces of the Hidden Leaf couldn’t ask for.

With Minato's and Kushina’s help, she opened up her shop at 19.

Making Minato famous Hokage Coat made herself famous too in no time.

Her big brother was proud of her and loved to talk about his little sister with the magic fingers.

Kushina, beautiful Kushina, was even better advertising since she brought clients to her.

For example from one day to another, the whole Uchiha Clan wanted Mayako’s Ninja Gear and that was only because Mikoto Uchiha, Kushina’s best friend, and wife of the current clan head liked her clothes.

At 21 she had a stable clientele and even got commissions from other lands.

The Fire Daimyo had heard of her and she had made for his wife a beautiful kimono.

Since then, every two months she sent a new kimono to the Fire Palace.

She had no money problems, but still, she lived with her brother and his now-pregnant wife.

After their parents died young, Minato practically raised her.

The siblings had only each other in the world and did their best to care for each other.

When he got with Kushina he had made clear that Mayako was still his priority. He wouldn’t leave his sister behind for anybody.

But this was no problem for the red-haired Uzumaki. Having lost her own family, she understood how important their sibling bond was.

So the two women got to know each other and got along like a house on fire. Truly it scarred Minato a little, how Kushina had turned his little sister a bit more cheeky.

Anyway, the three were a family, bought a house together and Mayako not only made her brother's wedding yukata, but also Kushina's wedding kimono.

Now Kushina was expecting her first child and like possessed Mayako made a lot of cute clothes for a nephew.

Sometimes it seemed she was more eager to meet little Naruto than his parents.

It was cute.

Still, Mayako was a bit offended that Minato and Kushina chose Naruto as his name thanks to the pervy sage sensei of Minato and his book.

She had preferred Daisuke when the three had discussed baby names.

That’s why she was currently reading The Tale of an Utterly Gutsy Ninja to understand why Minato and Kushina chose Naruto.

The book wasn’t so bad, yet she still didn’t get what was so special. Maybe she needs to finish it to understand.

At this moment the little bell on her shop door chimes telling her she has customers.

Reading has to wait.

“Welcome, welcome to Kaze Fashion how can I help-Huh? Kushina-Nee? Biwako-Sama?”, Mayako blinks surprised at them.

What are they doing here?

Wasn’t it time?

“Maya-Chan, all good with you?”, asked her sister-in-law cheerfully.

“Erm, yes, not much changed since we saw each other at breakfast today.”

Mayako's blue eyes wander over to Biwako-Sama, Lord Third's wife and Kushina’s Wetnurse.

Seemed the old lady understood why Mayako was confused right now.

“Kushina wanted to see you before we meet up with Minato.”, told her Biwako.

A frown appeared on Mayako's face.

“Right, because I’m not a ninja I can’t be present at the birth of my own nephew!”

Now she gave Biwako a dirty look.

The old lady just deadpanned at her, while Kushina nodded.

“I think it’s stupid to Maya-Chan, Dattebane!”

“Must I remind you girls why?”, wonder Biwako rubbing a temple. They had this discussion since it was confirmed that Kushina was indeed pregnant. “This is a delicate affair because of Kushina’s…status.”

Now Kushina frowned and Mayako bit her lip.

Only because her brother was Hokage now she know what burden her sister-in-law had.

She was the Jinchurikki of the Kyuubi, the most powerful of the 9 Bijuu.

“Having a civilian there at the birth…while anything can happen…it’s too dangerous.”

Together the two younger women signed. Sadly it was true.

“Still sucks.”

“Now, now, Kushina, give Mayako a hug and then off we go.”

Not having another choice the two did so.

Mayako gave Kushina a cheek kiss and then gave one to her belly, which made the Uzumaki giggle.

“I can’t wait to meet you Naruto-Chan.”

Happily, Mayako noted that little Naruto kicked where she kissed.

Kushina stroked Mayako’s blond hair.

“Don’t worry Maya-Chan tonight all will be over and then you can cuddle and kiss Naruto as much as you want I promise, Dattebane!”

“I take you by word Kushina-Nee!”

With a last wave, Kushina followed Biwako out of the shop.

Humming a little song Mayako took the book and sat down behind the cashier's table.

Hopefully, Naruto soon would be born, since Mayako couldn’t wait to meet him.

And this was the last time she saw her sister-in-law Kushina Uzumaki alive.

Hours later, after living through a real-life nightmare, Mayako would stare down at the crying blond baby in Lord Third's arms, while the bodies of Minato and Kushina were put into body bags.

Years later people would still talk about how the whole village heard the pained and anguished screams of Mayako Namikaze.

#Naruto FF: Blood of my Blood #naruto series #naruto x hinata #naruto uzumaki #namikaze clan #Naruto has family #aunt raises nephew #family #kakashi hatake #sasuke uchiha #hyuga hinata #mikoto uchiha #itachi uchiha #uchiha shisui #hinata hyuga's mother #naruhina

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goldenlilium-ocs · 8 months

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To Be Loved

In which an 11yr old Juliette ponders what her relationship with her father may have been like. This was written purely for my indulgence so it is unedited.

TW: This is not meant to be an overly sad fic, those who know the oc know this has a happy ending. However, there are insinuations in this piece of writing that may be triggering to those who don’t have the best relationship with their family.

“Do you think my dad would like me?”

Kassidy’s hand faltered over the stove. Children were inquisitive, she knew that. It was hardly scientific, just a fact. And Juliette, Juliette just might be the most inquisitive of them all. She spent her days outside of experimentation wandering the labs, always asking the scientists about their projects and looking for answers to whatever she could think of next. Why didn’t bubbles instantly pop? Why did helium make your voice squeaky? Why couldn’t she drink the pretty coloured liquids in sealed vials? But she had never asked about the captain. It hadn’t been a subject off limits, the eleven year old knew exactly who she was supposed to live up to.

But she had never questioned his character or their forced estranged relationship .

Kassidy turned the gas off, setting the spatula aside as she made her way over to the kitchen table. The surfaces was littered with paper, each depicting coloured sketches of her old co-workers and landscapes seen only on television. There had never been a need for a father in Juliette’s life. Any male influence came from the scientists in the lab, and occasionally Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. Kassidy had been willing to take on both parental roles, and she had never required help.

“What makes you ask that, sweetie?” Kassidy ran her fingers through the child’s hair. Blonde, so unlike her own. So like the absent father who wasn’t even aware of her existence.

How must it feel to bear the weight of a ghost your entire lifetime? There was always a side to the girl that Kassidy would never know. She’d look down at her daughter and see the face of a stranger from another time. Did she get these things from her father or grandmother or maybe even a great grandfather?

Juliette set her crayon down, swinging her legs aside as she twisted to face her mother. A damn good mother at that. “Because I’m not like him. I don’t have any powers or medals or friends. What if he’d be disappointed that the experiments didn’t work? What if I let him down?”

The truth was, Juliette wasn’t made to be liked, or even loved. She was made to be used...

How does a child grasp the concept that while she is not unlovable, she will not be loved by all? How does anyone grasp that he or she may be unloved by the people that matter? Had Kassidy herself not had a change of heart the moment she’d laid eyes on her baby, would there be anyone in this world to truly love this girl? Would she even know of love’s existence? It’s meaning?

“You don’t need powers or medals to be special, Juliette.” Kassidy knelt down now, her eye line level with the child’s. “You may not have his powers, but you have his heart. That man would know that. He would look at you and you would be all that matters in the world. It happened to me and it changed my life.”

Juliette gnawed on her lip, taking in Kassidy’s words. “But what if he can’t love me because he’ll never know me?”

“That’s not always true. I named you after Juliette Adam. She was not somebody I had ever known, and yet I know I loved her for the person she was.”

“Was she a scientist?”

“She was a writer.” Kassidy smiled.

“But you hate reading.” The child laughed.

“Well, she was also a girl. A girl who wanted to look after other girls. When you look out for your people and do good by them, that’s an act of love.” Kassidy smoothed out her hair. “You’re a very smart girl, Jules. You’ll make your father proud no matter what you choose to do with his legacy. Nobody gets to tell you who you are other than you. Okay?”

At her daughter’s nod, Kassidy relaxed. “Okay, clear this all up and set the table. Maybe I should be the one worrying whether or not he would like me. You’re precious cargo, you know.” She rose to her feet, returning to her cooking while Juliette tidied away.

Yeah, Kassidy had this parenting thing perfected. The only legacy she needed to follow was being the mother Juliette deserved.Treating her as a person rather than an object would go a long way. Loving her would be what ultimately shaped the young woman she became.

#i hate that tumblr doesnt allow proper formatting #juliette rogers #if she sounds juvenile its bc shes 11

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delicatenightfury · 2 years

Text

Arranged Marriage

2021 Month of Writing: Day 7

Prompt: #7 Regency AU - either person A or person B is in danger of being ruined socially

Word Count: 2,474

Author's Note: please don't steal my work. you can choose to respond to the prompt as well, but don't steal my work

Evelynne couldn’t help but smile at the sight before her. Little Rosanna was sitting in the grass and playing with a golden puppy. The puppy jumped around her, lunging slightly forward every now and then to press his nose against her tiny leg.

“Miss Belmont.”

Evelynne looked up, noticing that a familiar man was approaching her. She glanced toward the rest of her family, who were sitting several feet away. Her aunt and uncle were chatting happily with some old friends. Her uncle happened to turn at that moment and took note of who was approaching. A quick moment of eye contact was enough to tell Evelynne that he would supervise the meet.

Evelynne turned her attention back toward the man.

“Lord Weston,” she greeted. “I did not expect to see you here today.”

“Nor did I expect to see you. I had gotten the suspicion that you were not one to promenade.”

“Well it was just too fine a day to spend inside.”

She had met Lord Michael Weston before. Just several days ago, in fact. She had been attending a ball with her cousins Florence and Jonathan, who were both looking for potential matches. Lord Weston had found Evelynne tucked away from the dancing, which had prompted a light conversation. He was just a year or so older than Evelynne and had lived in the town his whole life unlike her, who had only just recently moved in with her extended family.

“May I join you?” he asked, motioning to the spot beside her.

She nodded, shifting slightly to give him room on the blanket she was sitting on. He removed his hat and sat down next to her, leaving a respectful amount of distance between the two of them. The two smiled briefly at each other before he turned his attention to the smaller figures before them.

“So who are these two?” he asked.

“This is Rosanna, my little sister,” Evelynne said, squeezing her hands together to avoid fidgeting. “Rider is Florence’s new puppy.”

At the sound of its name, Rider bounced over to them, sniffing Lord Weston’s hand. Rosanna, disappointed by the lack of attention from the puppy, crawled toward them as well. She reached to pet the puppy, who turned and licked her face.

“Well they are quite the pair, aren’t they?”

“Indeed. They wear each other out pretty quickly.”

“Never a bad thing I suppose.” He looked at Evelynne. “You said she was your sister?”

Evelynne nodded.

“Yes. She was born not long before my parents’ passing.”

“I heard about the accident. I am so sorry about what happened.”

Evelynne bowed her head, looking down at Rosanna. She didn’t know enough of the world to truly understand what had happened. Evelynne could hardly believe it herself. It felt as though she was only here because of luck.

“Will you be attending the upcoming ball tomorrow?”

“No, I’ll be staying at home with Rosanna. The rest of my family will be attending though.”

“Do you not have a nurse to watch her?”

“I prefer to do it myself. After what happened… I’d rather be close with her.”

“I’m sure your parents must be proud.”

Evelynne could do nothing but nod. There were no words she could really say in response.

Suddenly, the two heard fast approaching footsteps. They looked up to find Florence hurrying toward them, her eyes darting somewhere behind her every now and then.

“Florence?” Evelynne said.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, dear cousin, but something came up and we need to be heading home.”

“Is everything all right?” Lord Weston asked.

When Florence didn’t respond right away, Evelynne’s heart tightened in her chest.

“Jonathan is informing mother and father then retrieving the carriage.”

Evelynne gathered Rosanna quickly into her arms and got to her feet.

“Lord Weston, I apologize for having to cut our meeting short,” she said. “Please do not take this the wrong way.”

“Not at all,” he replied, standing as well. “I understand that matters come up.” He picked up the blanket they had been sitting on while Florence scooped up her puppy. He folded it just enough and handed it off. “I hope to see you again, Miss Belmont.”

“Likewise, Lord Weston. Good day.”

Florence ushered her cousin away, staying close by her side. When they joined her aunt and uncle, Evelynne looked to her cousin.

“Where?” she asked.

“It does not matter,” Oliver Hawkins, her uncle, said. “Our primary concern is to get you and Rosanna home.”

“I see Jonathan with the carriage,” Aunt Kathrynne said. “Come now, darlings.”

Evelynne shifted slightly on her spot on the couch, exhausted. The past few days had felt incredibly long. After the incident in the park, her family had been sticking close by. They had almost not attended the following evening’s ball. She had to practically force them to go, and even then Uncle Oliver insisted on staying home to watch over her. Evelynne appreciated their want to be by her, but it was beginning to feel confining.

The present day had already felt long, and it was barely time for lunch. Several gentlemen had visited the house, calling on Florence as potential suitors. Evelynne had chosen to separate herself from the chaos, retreating with Rosanna into one of the smaller lounges. They had played for most of the morning with Rider to keep them company. The rest of the family was supervising the visits with Florence.

Rosanna was sleeping peacefully, her small head resting on Evelynne’s chest. Evelynne gently ran her hand through the child’s hair, brushing it just slightly. Rider was sleeping on the floor, stretched out in a ray of sunlight. However, the puppy was startled awake by a knock on the door. Rider was good with not barking, being sensitive to Rosanna.

The door pushed open to reveal Jonathan, who smiled at the sight of his cousin.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“Of course.” He closed the door behind him and approached her, greeting Rider briefly before sitting down. “How are things with Florence?”

“Hm? Oh, good. They’re good. There are several men I think could be potential matches for her, but I’m not sure what her exact thoughts are. There was actually something I wanted to tell you.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine.” He paused. “Michael Weston has stopped by. He has asked if he could call on you this morning.”

“What?” Evelynne was shocked. “But I’m not taking part in the season this year. Why would he want to call on me?”

“I cannot be sure.” He glanced at Rosanna, who remained fast asleep. “Would you care to meet with him? You do not have to, mind you, but I can chaperone and watch over Rosanna if you’d like.”

Evelynne thought for a moment. The short time she had spent with Lord Weston had been pleasant so far. He was kind and seemed at least somewhat interested in her.

She eventually nodded. The two stood up together. Evelynne continued to rock Rosanna as Jonathan went to the door. He stepped into the hall briefly and returned a moment later with Michael Weston behind him.

“Miss Belmont,” he greeted.

“Lord Weston,” she replied with a small curtsey.

“Please, no need for that. Besides, it seems you have your hands full there.”

Evelynne smiled slightly before passing the sleeping girl off to Jonathan. He rubbed her back gently and gave his cousin a reassuring nod before moving to the opposite side of the room, Rider trotting behind them.

“Would you care to sit?” Evelynne offered.

“Thank you.”

The two sat on the couch, leaving space between them.

“I had not seen you the past few days,” he said. “Not since our meeting in the park. You disappeared quite quickly that day.”

“Yes, well, a situation had come up that my family and I needed to attend to.”

“And since then? I have seen your family in the town often, but never you.”

“I have been here with Rosanna. She has not been feeling the best the past few days, I’m afraid.”

“I am sorry to hear that.” He paused, messing with his hat between his hands. “Miss Belmont, may I be honest with you?”

“I would hope you would be,” she replied, trying to jest a little. There was something about his sudden question that made her a little nervous.

He took a breath, gathering his words.

“After you left the other day, I was approached by a man. He told me not to believe a word you said.”

“Excuse me?” Evelynne glanced at Jonathan, whose full attention was now on their conversation.

“He told me that you were a liar, that neither you nor Rosanna were who you claimed to be.”

“What? Why- I don’t”

“Miss Belmont, please know that I pride myself on being an excellent judge of character. This is something my friends and colleagues say about me. Even at his first approach, I did not trust the man. I do not believe a single word of his. I have met you and like to think I know you enough to know you are not what he said.”

“Did he say anything else?” Jonathan asked. “Or give you his name?”

Michael shook his head.

“He did give a name, but,” he looked back at Evelynne, “he said that you belonged to someone else already.”

Her chest immediately tightened. She nearly gasped for breath as she regained the ability to speak.

“Did he… have dark hair? Brown eyes and a scar on his face?”

“Yes.”

“Oh god.” She stood up and began to pace, wringing her hands together. “Jonathan-”

Her cousin quickly joined her, trying to balance Rosanna in one hand while trying to comfort her. Evelynne tried to repress the sobs that wanted to bubble over but had little success as several escaped. Jonathan rocked her as much as he could, and whispered comforting words into her hair.

“I did not want to upset you,” Michael stated. “I merely wished to inform you of what had happened. And I wanted to check on you to make sure that you were all right.”

It took Evelynne several minutes to quiet down. Her tears still flowed, but her sobs had subsided enough. Jonathan sat close by, offering the support that she needed while Michael gave her a little more space. Michael offered his handkerchief out to her. Evelynne accepted it and wiped her tears away as best she could. Setting the piece of fabric down, she pulled Rosanna back into her arms.

“May I ask a question, my lady?” Evelynne glanced at Michael, whose eyes appeared almost soft as he looked at her. She gave the smallest nod, already predicting what the question would be. “Rosanna?”

She was grateful he didn’t ask the full question.

“She is mine,” she replied, looking down at her daughter. “We came up with the idea to call her my sister after my parents’ passed and I came here.”

The three were quiet for several minutes, letting the situation sink in. Evelynne held her daughter close to her. Of course the family had had a suspicion of… that man being in the town, but to have it actually confirmed?

“Can I offer something?” Michael said. “A possible solution?”

“Lord Weston, as much as your concern is appreciated, this is a concern for our family. There is no need to drag you into this.”

“I am simply offering my assistance. At least listen to what I have to say.”

Evelynne looked at him and nodded. She never wanted anyone to know about this. If the knowledge of her child got out, she would be completely ruined. She would never marry and most certainly be subjected to a life alone. But if this man, someone who barely knew her, wanted to offer some kind of answer, she could listen.

“I wish to court you, Miss Belmont.”

Those were not words she ever expected to come out of his mouth.

“What?” she said, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Do not jest about such things,” Jonathan said. He held onto his cousin as if to protect her.

“I would never,” Michael replied. “I realize what situation this puts you all in, most of all you, Miss Belmont. And I am terribly sorry that you have been put into this situation to begin with. It is something that should never happen. However, I believe that this might be a solution.” He looked at her and offered a small smile. She couldn’t help but note that he wasn’t looking at her with sympathy or pity, but… perhaps something close to admiration and affection. “It had been my hope to court you to begin with.”

“But I am not taking part in the season,” Evelynne said.

“Which is why I wanted to ask you, as well as your family. You caught my attention the first time I met you and I wanted to know you more.” He glanced down at Rosanna. “I would like to know both of you more.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? That I already have a child? I’m ruined.”

“It bothers me more that a man dared to lay his hands on you in a way that you did not consent to. But she is part of your life, and if you accept my proposal, I will welcome you both into my life wholeheartedly, ruined or not.”

“Proposal?” Jonathan asked.

“Only if you wish.”

“I would want to court for a little while before applying for a special license,” Evelynne said after a moment’s silence. “I would rather get to know one another before jumping straight into marriage.”

“Of course,” Michael said.

“Evelynne.” She looked at her cousin. “You do not need to do this if you do not want to.”

“Lord Weston has been kind to me, Jonathan,” she said, smiling slightly at the lord. “He has been pleasant upon every meeting and even now, knowing the truth about my daughter, he chose to stay. I could not ask for anything more than that. If he shall truly have me, then I shall accept his proposal of courtship and eventually marriage.”

“I only have one request,” Michael said. “I wish for you to call me by my name.”

Evelynne smiled.

“Then you must call me by mine.”

He returned her smile with one of his own.

“I shall send for mother and father,” Jonathan said. “They should be aware of the situation and meet the potential newest member of the family.”

Jonathan stood and went to the door, opening it to speak to the servant outside. Michael turned to Evelynne.

“Evelynne, I also must say this. No matter what happens from here on, I will watch over you and Rosanna. No one is going to get to you.”

Evelynne smiled slightly.

“Thank you, Michael.”

#month of writing #writing prompt #original story #regency #arranged marriage

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clemonserlandsen11 · 1 year

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The Pastor's Family Revealed

A Wonderous Lineage Reverend Chris Oyakhilome is the spiritual father to millions of people. Christ Embassyis a Christian family that spreads love, hope, encouragement. As all supportive families they are close in many ways. There are roughly 140 Christ Embassy branches in five continents. Pastor Chris Family Of all the Christ Embassy branches across five continents, the most common question is "Who are Pastor Chris Oyakhilome's parents?" The Most Amazing Parents

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Elder T.E Oyakhilome his father was one of the founding members and leaders of the Assemblies for Jesus Christ Church in Benin City. His firstborn son Pastor Chris was truly an influencer from his father. Growing up in the context of a Christian family is an incredible great blessing. It is only imaginable how proud his father must feel when watching his son share the Gospel message about Jesus Christ being our Savior. His father's efforts may have had a profound effect on the young Chris Oyakhilome. He went on his first crusade at the age of nine. Chris Oyakhilome has abided by the commandment of honoring your parents. From leading prayer meetings at university to delivering sermons to millions, pastor Chris has paid tribute to his father in the manner of a devout and true Christian. Pastor Chris has celebrated Angelina's 80th birthday with an Benin celebration. She is often referred to as the "quintessential maternal model", and is loved for her fairness. Pastor Chris https://thenewsnigeria.com.ng/2020/05/27/biography-and-achievements-of-pastor-chris-oyakhilome/ She is a wonderful mother, grandmother, and mother-in-law who has instilled her faith in God's grace into her son. Super Siblings Angelina Oyakhilome, Tim Oyakhilome, had two additional children. Reverend Ken is Pastor Chris’s brother. As an eminent Pastor at Christ Embassy's Houston, Texas Branch, He has had a profound impact on many lives and imparted wisdom. Pastor Chris He is also part of Christ Embassy Central Executive Council. Katty Worghiren is Pastor Chris her sister and director of the LoveWorld Music & Arts Ministry. Katty Worghiren started as a gifted singer in the choir. Her songwriting skills have led to some of the most famous LoveWorld songs. She is the creator of "I Believe In Nigeria" An song that is a national anthem. Katty writes the final and most emotional section of Believers LoveWorld Anthem. Katty includes this message as she believes in the Christian family. We are one family My sister I also have a brother named you. Pastor Chris Family Believers' LoveWorld" As many of the members of Christ Embassy know, for Pastor Chris Oyakhilome this is a personal family and a global family. It is truly inspiring to observe his family involved in the ministry of the gospel doctrines. As 1 Timothy 5: 1-2 recounts: Treat younger men the way you treat your brother and older women just as you treat your mother. Be respectful of younger women just as you would your mother. " Two Outstanding Daughters The marriage of Pastor Chris produced two wonderful daughters. While the couple, he and Anita, his former wife, have decided to end their marriage, they love and cherish their beautiful daughters Carissa Sharon, Charlene, and Charlene. Both of them reside in London currently. Pastor Chris Biography Pastor Chris’s daughter Sharon is a rising gospel star. She was influenced by her father's teachings and has composed the award-winning track "Holy Spirit" as a testament to her deeply felt Christian commitment. The singer is also an inspiring leader of the Global Youth Leaders Forum. Phillip Frimpong was a beautiful marriage to her. Pastor Chris Biography She expressed her love for Phillip Frimpong in an intimate Instagram post: - "YES! "YES!" to my best friend. The most wonderful person I have ever met and my most adored. I am so grateful I'd just like to say yes ." It was gorgeous and significant. Charlene is her sister who was the chief bridesmaid. It's impossible not to feel touched by the unconditional love of Pastor Chris Oyakhilome and his family. More Family Members with Talented Families Pastor Chris Oyakhilome's Nephew Daysman Oyakhilome Woghiren is now one of Africa's most influential leaders. He makes use of his skills to encourage young people to be encouraged by the Word. As a businessman and as the CEO of Carel Films Enterprise he can spread the Good News via modern communication channels. He has been responsible for over 100 Christian music videos, songs, animations and videos, including "I Know Who I am" by Sinach, Rozey's "Kinging", "Igbunu", by Micheal Jaffe, and "Untouchable" from the TB1. He was the winner of the American Academy of Animations Award three times by the age of 20. Also, he was the Walt Disney Award winner and a nominee to the Future African Leaders Award FALA. His true genius is shining through the talents of the others. The the teachings of Jesus Christ are an integral aspect of the lives and accomplishments of the Oyakhilome family. https://www.pdfdrive.com/the-power-of-your-mind-by-pastor-chris-oyakhilome-e200802085.html We can see that they are deeply rooted in God's work. These family members are, in the words of The Man of God: "The Gospel about Jesus Christ is God’s power to bring sinners back to righteousness. His righteousness is demonstrated through the Gospel em> We hope that his family's efforts succeed in their eternal and earthly mission of spreading Jesus Christ's Gospel.

#Pastor Chris #Pastor Chris Biography #Pastor Chris Family #Pastor Chris Oyakhilome

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ask-dgs-221bbakerstreet · 1 year

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“Yes I suppose my death will always be hard for you.” He places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s hard for me at times, though it’s been easier with you beside me.” Klimt says as he takes a deep sigh. “I’ll be fine.” He says trying to convince himself of that. “We should carry on, I have some things I need to get off of my chest. Things I’ve been meaning to tell my parents, that I haven’t said yet but should.” Klimt bends down and gently places a marigold on both of the graves. “Hello again mother and father.” He says. “I miss you both terribly. However, I can’t join you both in Heaven yet. Though, I promise I will one day. There are things that need taking care of here on earth. Things I need to atone for. Therefore, I must ask for your forgiveness to both of you for all my wrong doings. I’m sincerely sorry for having never visited your graves before. When you died I pushed away my grief in a futile attempt to cope with my loss of the both of you. I started to forget you, and it led to me suffering from severe memory loss. After I died my memory loss became worse, because I never tried to deal with my grief. Though recently, many of my memories returned to me and I’ve decided to finally muster up enough strength to pay you both a visit. In all honesty I’ve been putting this off for quite a long time. I’ve lived with a lot of guilt and shame for the things I’ve done.” His eyes begin to get teary and he becomes choked up. “I doubt either of you would be proud of me if you were alive, and for that I’m truly sorry. I wish I could ask for your forgiveness for all that I’ve done. I’ve besmirched our family name with my vile acts. My hands shed the blood of the guilty and the innocent.” He begins to cry harder. “I failed to keep the promise I made to both as you were dying. I didn’t keep Barok safe. I let so much pain befall him that I could have prevented had I been around and made the right choices.”

---

...perhaps they would not be proud of you. But you did try to keep me safe. As best as you could.

I know it is hollow comfort. However, I believe it is worth something.

Brother... please do not let it torture you for eternity. What's done is done. The grief will fade. I know that now.

I hope that lifting this weight from your chest has helped that, at least a little.

#the great ace attorney #dai gyakuten saiban #barok van zieks #ghost asks #👻

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bonesandthebees · 1 year

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Names analysis!! I'm a huge fan of how you wrote Wilbur's interpretation of Sóti . It's absolutely golden. Soot implies there was a fire, a fire which burned because nobody cared to spot it before. A fire is hot, consuming, full of life, but it's also so full of life, so beautiful in its anger and rage because it gives life to so many things as well. It's the perfect analogy for something simultaneously beautiful and dangerous. It's such a good thing to use to describe Wilbur too, but moreso, it's the Soot part that intrigues me. Wilbur's name isn't the fire. It's the Soot that's left behind. He's the after effects of a fire that burned too brightly and violently. He isn't the fire itself, but the remnants of it. He says it himself, that he doesn't see himself as the fire. Because he isn't ever, or never saw himself as the one causing the destruction. He was never supposed to be the violent, emotional one. It only so happened that the trauma made him so. He had always been the words, the verbal spitfire. Not quite the same effect.

Interesting.

And of course, unsaid, is Ióni. Tommy is "the beloved". Completely human in it's description. He's always been the emotions, the loving and the one showered with love. He thrived off of people, even now, after he's been betrayed, he seesk to trust and grow. He was always the one who was more attached to people, and the approval. He craves it. He was never deprived of it, until now, and so now he seeks it out.

Personal name!! Phil is now truly embracing the parent role. Interestingly good timing too, right when Wilbur is completely separated from his no-longer-a-support-pillar.

The fact that he now lives in the personal ward kind of emphasises the possession feeling Phil harbours, huh. But it's also a nice gesture? Phil is sus. I don't like it. But I also desperately need Wilbur to figure out stuff for me so I can just piece it together later lmao, or else my brain will just nyoom with the theories. Must control!

- ❄️

thank you I'm so glad you enjoyed the bit about sóti and soot!! I was very proud of myself when I wrote that bit of dialogue ngl. though I've known that sóti has always meant soot, I came up with that very early on, but the soot = a fire that burnt out of control was a piece of dialogue I came up with on the spot while I was writing that scene.

you get it. wilbur isn't the fire. he's not destructive himself, he's the remnants left behind. he wasn't supposed to be violent or emotional, it was his trauma that's made him that way. wilbur's not supposed to be fire and there isn't supposed to be a fire inside of him. and yet... here we are

Ióni, the beloved golden child. tommy needs other people around him. deep at his core, he's compassionate and tries to understand others. even when he's been betrayed, he wants to trust again. he's beloved by others and loves them in return.

ha yeah. very good timing :)

is wilbur living in the personal wing just to make it easier for him and tommy to stay apart, or is it a possessive thing on phil's end? maybe both? who knows you'll have to wait and see

(go ahead and go wild on the theories though lol it's fun to see)

#ask #snowflake anon #the stars and their children

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ticklishbeans4 · 2 years

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Havens Vow

So! I usually have a lot of trouble writing for my OC’s. So this is a kind of... warm up? I guess? I wanna write more with my boy, my son, my everything. So I wrote this little blurb thats kind of about Haven’s feelings regarding his Uncle and Wild Witches. This is before he found Phebos btw.

“We are a safe place for them, Haven. That is why I named you as such.” That’s what Uncle told him all the time. “We are a safe haven for those who truly wish to live in the light of the Titan.” Haven was named after their goals. His goals, and he was always happy to play his part. Be the safe haven for witches who wanted to turn away from their dangerous and wild ways. Haven listened to his Uncle. His Lord. His only family. It was his duty. His parents died trying to fight off wild witches. But Haven held no hate for them. Only pity. They were like children, Uncle told him. They didn’t know what was best for them. Uncle did. Uncle always knew what was best from them all. The Titan spoke to him for a reason after all. “We must guide them and protect them, like humble shepherds with their flock.”

Haven didn’t know what a shepherd was, or how they related to a flock of birds. But they must be great warriors! Though Uncle chuckled when he said that… so maybe not.

“You are special Haven. You will do great things, I just know it.” Uncle believed in him. He couldn’t let him down. He’d do the right thing. He’d make Uncle proud., be a great shepherd and protect their flock of witches. He was the Golden Guard. It was his duty.

He would protect his family, his flock, and he would help the poor wild witches who were led astray. This was his vow.

#Haven Wittebane #bean writes #non-tickles #toh oc #the owl house oc #grimwalker oc

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skylarstark4826 · 19 days

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Okoye’s first day in Talokan had been remarkable, to say the least. She had an image in her mind from Attuma’s and Shuri’s descriptions, but it was truly something to behold the grand architecture, technology, and culture. After Shuri perfected the dive suits, Okoye and M’Baku became the next two outsiders to receive the privilege of visiting the elusive underwater nation. The three of them spent the day receiving an official tour through the city. M’Baku stayed in the plaza to watch a ball game, while Okoye and Shuri retired to the cave system to eat and wander. They had all been gifted Talokan clothes to wear. Okoye wore a sleeveless dress that was red at the top and shifted into gold past her hips. Shuri wore an embroidered shirt and pants. They were admiring the relief carvings in a tunnel when quick footsteps came echoing toward them. They looked behind them curiously – Okoye hoped it wasn’t an attendant telling them that M’Baku accidentally started another war.

Attuma rounded the corner with an excited grin on his face. He didn’t have a mask on.

“Welcome back to Talokan, Ix Ajaw Shuri! And welcome, in yakunaj.”

He closed the distance in a heartbeat, wrapped an arm around Okoye’s waist, and kissed her. Her eyes widened in shock. She glanced at Shuri, whose mouth was hanging open. Attuma leaned back, still wearing a pleased smile, and kept his arm around her. Okoye gawked at him, then at Shuri.

“It’s not what it looks like!” she blurted.

Shuri threw up her hands. “Hey, I’m not judging. You two look cute together.”

“We’re not together!”

“We’re not?” he said in an amused tone.

She shot him a look. Why in Bast’s name he thought it acceptable to kiss her in front of Shuri…

“We’re just…Ok, I’ve been seeing him, but it’s not like that.”

Shuri smiled sympathetically. “Seriously, Okoye, why would I judge you? Whatever makes you happy. I’ll just get out of your hair for now.”

“But –”

Shuri was already power-walking down the tunnel and out of sight. Attuma rubbed her back.

“Eek’e’, it’s a dream to see you here,” he gushed.

“Did you have to do that?” she said with a glower.

“Why are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” He fully faced her, but there was no annoyance in his features. “We’re both honorable. You divorced your husband. You could make me howl your name from the mountains of Wakanda, and I wouldn’t complain.”

He leaned down to her ear.

“Come to my chambers,” he whispered, “I have something for you.”

Her irritation was forgotten as curiosity – and a chill of desire – took its place.

“Alright. Lead the way.”

He took her by the hand and walked with her through the winding cave system. They came upon a small grotto with a hut. He pulled aside the thick curtain of reeds that served as a door. Inside was a cozy and practical room. There was a large hammock to the left, a desk draped in a beige cloth with a red border, and a shrine to the right. A curtain beside the desk separated some separate area. The air was close in here, and she felt it more with him right behind her.

“Look around,” he invited.

A framed drawing was propped up on the desk. She approached and picked it up slowly. It was Attuma, flanked by an older man and woman. All three smiled toothily.

“Are these your parents?”

He came up next to her. “Yes.”

“They must be very proud of you.”

His smile was laced with a private happiness. “They live in a neighborhood outside the capital. I moved them there after I made general. What of your parents?”

She smiled, too. “They’re in the Borderlands, still in the same house I grew up in. I asked them if they’d like a second one, closer to the Golden City, but they refused. At least they let me pay for renovations,” she chuckled.

He was giving her that look he always did when she smiled. His fond gaze softened his eyes so much. She looked away and set down the picture.

“Where’s this present for me?”

He stooped beneath the desk and lifted up a long wooden box. It made a heavy thud when he set it down. Okoye opened it eagerly. Inside was a macuahuitl. It was a meter long, and the wooden paddle was carved with a line of hieroglyphs. She carefully lifted it out and turned away from him to hold it to the light.

“It’s stunning,” she said in awe, “What do these mean?”

“They sing the praises of a mighty foreign warrior. I had it made for you.”

Okoye glanced back at him for a moment. She tested the weapon in her grip, swung it right and left, mimed a slash. It felt awkward in her hands, but she would get used to it.

“Will you train me with it?”

“Of course, my love.”

There he went again, saying things like that. She didn’t feel obligated to say it back, but she felt a weight on her when he did. She did care for him. She felt safe and respected and desired. He made her feel light, and she was thankful everyday that she didn’t have to go to war against him. Even if she wasn’t ready to commit to a serious relationship, she did want to know him in every way.

She glanced at the curtain in the back.

“Where does that go?”

He didn’t break eye contact as he stepped over and drew it aside. The room appeared to be empty, but when her gaze tracked to the floor, she saw an oval pool, about 7 feet across, embedded into the ground.

“Water, so I don’t need to wear the rebreathers all the time.”

Okoye put the macuahuitl back in the box while she waited for him to ask. He moved closer to her and tilted his head.

“Will you go in with me?”

“Is it cold?” she asked, more for show.

“No,” he insisted, then walked over to the pool and squatted to dip his hand in.

She smiled at his anxious eagerness and reached back to unclasp her dress. He was on his feet in a second.

“Let me.”

He stood behind her and undid the clasp. His hands stroked down her shoulders as he eased the fabric off. She was still wearing a bra. She stopped him from pushing the dress past her hips.

“Why don’t you take off all that crap you’ve got on?” she said.

He stepped around to where she could see him and lifted his chin haughtily.

“You mean my official adornments?” he asked, even as he started undoing his armguards.

She stepped out of the dress, leaned against the wall, and watched him hurriedly remove everything except his shorts, which really didn’t hide much. He smirked at her staring and nodded toward the pool.

“After you?”

She sat on the edge and dipped her legs in. It wasn’t quite room temperature, but it wasn’t unbearable either. She got all the way in, and Attuma followed her. He detached the rebreathers from his gills and set them beside the edge. Wading over to her, he pressed his lips gingerly against her cheek. His kisses were always soft to start off. So far, they hadn’t done more than explore each other’s bodies with their hands, and never the private areas. She knew him well enough now that she could tell he was holding back. She had an idea how he would be in bed, from the way he got excited when she wounded him and how much he loved pinning her at the end of a fight she lost. As for her sake, she’d never been one to give up control.

His lips were pressing gently to her neck now, almost tickling. To show she meant business this time, she pressed the side of her hand against the bulge in his shorts. He froze. She had no idea what he was going to do until he suddenly lifted her into his lap and pressed her close.

“Do you want me, in yakunaj?” he asked huskily, “I’m ready to make my offerings.”

She could feel his length against her pelvis. His eyes were dark and intense. For once, she was actually lost for words. Now that she’d made up her mind, though, she wasn’t going to hesitate. She rocked her hips forward, inviting him. She didn’t expect him to release her waist and sink below the water. She quickly understood when he stretched out and positioned his face beneath her hips. Looking down through the water, his skin was a light brown. The sudden change was miraculous and beautiful. She obliged his – and her – obvious want and grabbed his head. She ground directly onto his nose, though her panties were in the way. They both endured it at first, Okoye content to build the tension, but her lover was more impatient. He stopped her movement with a strong hand and tore her panties right off. She scowled into the water, but she forgot her displeasure immediately at the first stroke of his tongue. He was perfect and relentless. She let her head roll back and her groans fill the grotto.

She continued rocking gingerly through the afterglow, then lifted a leg and climbed off. He came up panting and grinning at her. He kissed her hungrily, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. Two of his fingers abruptly curled inside her, and she flinched. She moaned into his mouth, and he echoed it in kind. He pulled his fingers back. Meanwhile, her hands explored the generous planes of his torso, tracing the shark-tooth scars to his shorts. She palmed him, and he bit her lip almost painfully. She made a sharp noise, and he released her, murmuring an apology. But she squeezed his dick, and he spat out a curse in his own language.

“Take it,” he panted, rolling his forehead against hers.

He pushed his shorts down and placed himself into her waiting hand. She stroked quickly. His cheek slipped past hers, and he bit the peak of her ear. She replaced her hand with her labia, sliding up and down his shaft. He gasped once, then demonstrated his strength again and swam them both towards the wall within the blink of an eye. He leaned his back against it and pushed down on her hips till she felt his girth pushing in. Her hands flew to his shoulders and dug in. When their hips were flush, he paused and exhaled. Okoye’s chest rose and fell heavily. Her fingers slid inward and brushed carefully over his gills. He shuddered.

“Does that hurt?” she asked softly.

He shook his head, then surged to claim her lips. They rocked together. She had no idea how long it lasted, only that it felt like an age. A misty, elemental age. She missed making love like this. She came twice under his persistent strokes and fingertips, tilting her head to the heavens each time. He spilled every adoration in his language.

She hated to separate their bodies, but in her excitement, she’d totally forgotten to ask about protection. She slipped off and ground against him. He shouted and went still, twitching intermittently and groaning. They clutched each other.

He whispered, “In yaakunale' permitir in ts'aik teech le yóok'ol kaaba' entero.”

“Attuma…”

“I love you. Completely.”

“I know.”

He was silent. Still, neither moved.

“Let’s enjoy this,” she whispered, “Let me be with you.”

He kissed her cheek in answer. After a few minutes, he reached for the rebreathers and put them back on. He lifted her out the pool and carried her into the main room.

“We’re dripping everywhere,” she barely protested.

He set her on her feet, then fetched a large towel and dried them both. He picked her again and placed her in his hammock. Her eyes widened in alarm when he started to climb in, too.

“Wait, wait! Will it hold?”

“Yeah,” he said carelessly.

He hovered over her and mouthed at her neck. She wasn’t really able to relax into it because of the hammock swaying gently beneath them. The ropes could snap any second and dump them on the floor. In the meantime, he continued tasting her skin, down to her pebbled nipples, which he flicked his tongue over. She ventured to caress her hands down his broad back. He pressed closer to her, maybe subconsciously. He slid back up and nuzzled her neck while his hips prodded against hers. She spread her legs wide enough that he could slide in again. She wrapped her limbs around him. The ropes murmured, but didn’t give.

He pulled out and pushed on her side in a way that meant he wanted her to flip over. She didn’t much like being told what to do, but if he was going to keep making her feel like this, she supposed she could compromise a bit. She rolled onto her front, cheek pressed into one of the pillows. He folded his arms beneath her and reentered. Her legs squirmed and squeezed together before she came hard. He groaned deeply, but pulled out. She felt the cum splash over her ass, then he was rolling her over again. His eyes were glazed over, and his hand was between her legs, two fingers inside, his thumb on her clit. She moaned and tossed her head, her right hand flying down to grip his wrist. She came again rapidly, hips lifting into the air. He still didn’t pull back. She gasped and tried to push his arm away. Her noise of protest wasn’t even a full word. He locked eyes with her for a second that dragged on in apprehension.

He took his hand away, and she exhaled in relief and satisfaction. She felt loose, like her limbs had been unscrewed at the joints. He lay on his side beside her and brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. She rested her hand over his and stroked down his forearm. He smiled softly.

Okoye fell asleep in his warm arms. Her mind was empty of any worries or responsibilities. She felt like she was home. Her eyes blinked open slowly, after a fashion. He was still there, embracing her. She smiled and snuggled into him. His lips pressed lovingly to her forehead.

“Did you have a good dream?” he whispered.

“Mmm…” She raised her head and was greeted by a gentle kiss. She nuzzled her nose against his. He chuckled happily.

“I’ll bring some breakfast. Or we can go out, if you like.”

Breakfast… Breakfast!

Okoye flew upright. He stared at her in alarm.

“Shuri!” she gasped.

“She’s fine. She’s in the city.”

“She was waiting for me last night.”

“I don’t think she was waiting up for you,” he said with a smirk. He reached for her. “Come, relax. I’ll bring you something.”

“No, I have to go.” She was already climbing down from the hammock.

She came to Talokan on official business. She was a personal guard of the queen, and she was an ambassador. She couldn’t spend all night and day frolicking in bed. Valuable hours had been wasted already. She pulled on her dress. She had to return to her guest quarters to freshen up and change into something for today.

Attuma was on his feet.

“Let me escort you back. We can find Shuri together.”

She looked at him, then nodded. As they strode out of his hut, he asked, “You won’t be embarrassed, will you?”

She glanced at him again. It was plain that this was important to him.

“No. She’s my friend. I suppose she should know anyway.”

“Am I your man yet?”

She laughed. She couldn’t deny the way she felt in the morning, before her duties came flooding into her mind.

“You seem up to the task.”

He grinned at her. “If you need more convincing, I’ll be around.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t wait for me. Go do your job.”

He did attend to his duties, but they met that evening for some quality time before the Wakandans departed. Just before she was about to leave, Attuma left his seat beside her on the hammock.

“Let me pack up your things for you.”

“My things?” Okoye asked in a mix of confusion and curiosity.

He flipped up the cloth covering the desk, revealing a heavy wooden chest underneath. He dragged it out and lifted out a tall, metal container with straps for carrying. He unscrewed the lid and put her macuahuitl box inside. Then, he reached back into the chest and produced an earthenware jug.

“This is chih, an alcohol made from the maguey plant. Drink it within the next few days. It goes bad quickly.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Then, he pulled out a soft package wrapped in paper.

“Some clothing...And this is a blanket I stitched myself.”

Okoye felt her cheeks warm.

“You do needlework?”

He smirked. “I have many hobbies. Talokanil are trained in every art form.”

He reattached the lid and shouldered the heavy burden. Okoye rose to her feet.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to carry all that…”

“M’Baku will carry it.”

She raised a brow. “I’m sure he agreed to that.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she walked over and embraced him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything for you.”

“You brought yourself. That’s all the gift I need. And I’mcourting you .”

He got his rebreather, and they walked together to the departure point. M’Baku and Shuri were there already with the dive suits, as well as K’uk’ulkan, Namora, and a couple attendants.

“Gorilla man,” Attuma called. M’Baku barely reacted. They had a certain rapport, and it was only fair since M’Baku called him “shark man.” “Will you carry Okoye’s things for her?”

He held out the pack. M’Baku grunted and took it without argument.

The Wakandans put on their suits, and K’uk’ulkan made a big to-do out of the farewell. Before they left, Okoye turned to Attuma, and they both moved in for a hug. M’Baku made a perplexed noise behind her. She turned just enough to cast a “Shut up” over her shoulder. Then, she turned back to hold her partner for a little longer.

#okoye x attuma #attuma x okoye #attoye #attuma and okoye #general okoye #mcu okoye #black panther okoye #attuma of talokan #mcu attuma #okoye #attuma #black panther #black panther wakanda forever

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jdgo51 · 1 year

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Mary, God’s Humble Servant

Today's inspiration comes from:

The God of the How and When

by Kathie Lee Gifford & Rabbi Jason Sobel

Bible Verses

"My soul magnifies the Lord, And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior. For He has regarded the lowly state of His maidservant;

For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed.

For He who is mighty has done great things for me, And holy is His name. — Luke 1:46–49 NKJV

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage. — Philippians 2:5–6 NIV

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. — 1 Peter 5:6–7 NIV

Devotional

RABBI JASON

God chose perhaps His most unlikely vessel to set into motion the salvation of mankind: a teenage girl named Mary. Mary thought she was waiting for a wedding to a carpenter named Joseph, but something came to her that was far different — an improbable event she never would have dreamed of. A holy interruption. Much about Mary and her relationship with God is revealed when we read about her response to the angel when she was told she would give birth to the promised Messiah (see Luke 1:26–38). Mary showed tremendous humility of heart — the same humble quality we find in Yeshua (see Philippians 2:6–11).

A characteristic of humility is receiving. Probably understanding some, though not all, of the misunderstanding and scorn that would surely come, Mary embraced God’s new vision for her life without complaining or sarcasm. First Peter 5:5 tells us that

God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble. — NKJV

You want God’s grace? Become humble. Mary was humble in spirit.

Being willing to decrease so that others can increase is the essence of humility (see John 3:30). It’s important to note, however, that I’m not talking about self-abasing. A truly humble person is secure and confident in God’s love. They know who they are.

Genuine humility is not thinking less of ourselves. It’s thinking of ourselves less.

It also takes humility for us to be completely transparent before others, allowing them to speak into our lives, encourage us, sharpen us if needed, and help us in our own journeys. Notice that when the angel ended his time with Mary, he said,

Nothing will be impossible with God. — Luke 1:37 TLV

Genuine humility is not thinking less of ourselves. It’s thinking of ourselves less.

Mary needed to be transparent to receive that word and then live by it. She responded by humbly worshiping and magnifying the Lord (see verses 46–55).

Think of what obedience meant to this young girl. She needed to confront Joseph and risk a divorce. She had to face her neighbors, whose imaginations must have run wild. She had to confront her parents and Joseph’s parents. But through all this confrontation and gossip, she was able to cling to the angel’s promise to her and to Joseph’s loyalty to her after his own angelic visit (see Matthew 1:18–25).

I find it interesting that Mary obeyed without hesitation. Obedience was her delight. Looking back at the times God has called me to do something, I have to ask, Did I react like Mary?

Not all the time. There were moments of hesitation. I wonder what blessings from God I lost. Today, we often regard obedience as a weakness. Mary’s example should correct our thinking. In Scripture, we can almost see that His will became her will. She willingly yielded to what God wanted for her instead of fighting for her self-defined life direction.

As in Mary’s experience, faith and humility together will lead us to God’s favor. To walk in our divine assignments and sing our unique songs, we will need to seek God’s presence, understanding that He is the source of favor to open the doors that only He can open — doors that no man can shut. Humility is knowing that you are in God’s control and, when the situation calls for it, having the bold faith to do what God has asked you to do.

Respond

How can following Mary’s example of humility transform your relationship with God?

What has God asked you to do for Him? How have you responded in the past?

Where in your life do you need bold faith to do what God has asked you to do?"

Excerpted with permission from the 10-Day devotional from The God of the Way by Kathie Lee Gifford and Rabbi Jason Sobel.

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princeofgod-2021 · 2 years

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LIGHT OF LIFE 232

John 1:4

SATAN’S STRUCTURE 39: MONEY AND FINANCE 3

Mat 6:24 “YOU CAN’T WORSHIP TWO gods AT ONCE. Loving one god, you'll end up hating the other. Adoration of one feeds contempt for the other. YOU CAN’T WORSHIP GOD AND MONEY BOTH”. MSG

Now we’ve compared Money with Idols earlier, but do you really know where money is greater than all idols and why Satan depends more on Money than Idols?

Money can make or buy idols beloved.

Jdg 17:4 So he gave the silver back to his mother. THEN HIS MOTHER TOOK TWO HUNDRED SHEKELS OF SILVER AND GAVE THEM TO A METAL-WORKER WHO MADE A PICTURED IMAGE AND A METAL IMAGE FROM THEM: and it was in the house of Micah. BBE

In Ephesus, silversmiths made wealth from images of their goddess Diana, selling them to people.

Imagine buying the god you bow to and depend upon to save and provide for you, with money.

Act 19:24-25 For a man named DEMETRIUS, a SILVERSMITH who made silver shrines of Artemis, BROUGHT A GREAT DEAL OF BUSINESS TO THE CRAFTSMEN. He gathered these together, along with the workmen in similar trades, and said, “MEN, YOU KNOW THAT OUR PROSPERITY COMES FROM THIS BUSINESS. NET

There is another way to understand the point of Personification of Money.

The principal factor that “pushes” men to crave for money is LUST and we have a scripture similar in context to the opening Scripture.

1Jn 2:15-16 DO NOT LOVE THE WORLD OR THE THINGS IN THE WORLD. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him, because all that is in the world (THE DESIRE OF THE FLESH AND THE DESIRE OF THE EYES AND THE ARROGANCE PRODUCED BY MATERIAL POSSESSIONS) is not from the Father, but is from the world. NET

Now we see another comparison: God versus things of the world and the “Love competition” again.

So if you do verbal mathematics, you can juxtapose money with worldly things in the two references.

1Ti 6:10 THE LOVE OF MONEY CAUSES ALL KINDS OF EVIL. Some people have turned away from what we believe BECAUSE THEY WANT TO GET MORE AND MORE MONEY. But they have caused themselves a lot of pain and sorrow. ERV

So, if money is root of all evil in this world, then money is the procurer of all that men lust after.

The control money has on men is easy to understand if you understand how Lusts drive men.

To deal with the control of money over our lives, we must do what has always been scripturally required.

If you have dealt with Lust, then Contentment makes seeking money a sinless venture for you.

Gal 5:24 Keep in mind that we who belong to Jesus, the Anointed One, HAVE ALREADY EXPERIENCED CRUCIFIXION. For EVERYTHING CONNECTED WITH OUR SELF - LIFE was put to death on the cross and crucified with Messiah. TPT

I’ve said this before: it is not possible for you to be truly born-again and yet retain passion for money and the things of this life.

You have to re-check your foundation and decide where you stand.

Again, the main verse says: if you love and adore God, you’ll automatically hate and have contempt for amassing wealth.

But if it is money you love, automatically, God is hated and despised.

2Ti 3:2,4 PEOPLE WILL LOVE ONLY THEMSELVES AND MONEY. They will be proud, stuck-up, rude, and disobedient to their parents. They will also be ungrateful, godless… They will be sneaky, reckless, and PUFFED UP WITH PRIDE. INSTEAD OF LOVING GOD, THEY WILL LOVE PLEASURE. CEV

You know, we could deceive ourselves with the concept that since we are coming to God to ask for things of this life – while bearing our lusts – there is harmony between God and money.

Wake up!

Whereas, there are those who are polluting God’s house by peddling money for positions and special recognitions in Church.

Some bribe top leaders and oppress “weaker” persons. God sees all.

Act 8:18-20 SIMON SAW THAT THE SPIRIT WAS GIVEN TO THE SAMARITANS WHEN THE APOSTLES PLACED THEIR HANDS ON THEM. SO HE OFFERED PETER AND JOHN MONEY and said, "GIVE ME THIS POWER SO THAT ANYONE I PLACE MY HANDS ON WILL RECEIVE THE HOLY SPIRIT." PETER TOLD SIMON, "MAY YOUR MONEY BE DESTROYED WITH YOU because you thought you could buy God's gift. GW

Now when men assume they can buy anointing with money, we see the height of blasphemy.

But it is still happening, where men have no connection with God but pay juju men to get power.

Craze for money is reason why God made the most important things – like anointing – in life, free.

Mat 10:8 Heal the sick, bring the dead back to life, heal those who suffer from dreaded skin diseases, and drive out demons. YOU HAVE RECEIVED WITHOUT PAYING, SO GIVE WITHOUT BEING PAID. GNB

I ask you beloved: are people paying for spiritual services today?

Yes!

I’ve seen a man who will charge as much as 250K when you bring sick persons to him, though he claims they offered it.

Mar 11:17 Then he taught the people and said, "The Scriptures say, 'MY HOUSE SHOULD BE CALLED A PLACE OF WORSHIP FOR ALL NATIONS.' BUT YOU HAVE MADE IT A PLACE WHERE ROBBERS HIDE!" CEV

Are there really robbers hiding in Churches?

Yes!

Their worship of God is superficial. What they are really concerned about is how to make money, and they will steal if they can’t get it easily.

1Ti 6:5 They add misery to many lives by corrupting their minds and cheating them of the truth. THEY EQUATE THE WORSHIP OF GOD WITH MAKING GREAT SUMS OF MONEY. TPT

They make almost every message to be about money, and you’d think they love to enrich the brethren, but it’s all about enriching themselves they’re concerned about, fully exploiting the church.

God will cleanse His name and House of all filth and draw our hearts to Himself, in Jesus name.

Come back on Monday for more digging into this intriguing subtopic.

Keep Shinning!

Brother Prince

Friday, August 5, 2022

08055125517; 08023904307

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