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The 'share a snippet' of your story thread

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[Trigger warning, implied predation.]   Touya’s head throbbed, but it was the least of his problems. The dark stone overhead wasn’t the remnants of Dragonspiral Tower’s peak, and it most cer

I had red-hot inspiration for this for exactly...uh 2 hours. Then I decided to dump it in the mounting pile of unfinished-stuff. It's a Sasuke vs Kakashi fight.  . Yesteryears Stupid Sa

I bet some of you will know for sure what this story is about. Take a look Darkness... It was the only thing that the knight, who sat in the corner of the narrow cell, could see; barely illu

This was from when I was in 8th grade, okay, I know it's bad :P

Gildarts had faced all types of monsters: Demons, Zombies, Sphinxes, Goblins, Reptiles and Insects (No, not the small ones that make housewives scream, ones so huge it’d make fully grown men scream). You name it, he’d slain it.

 So it wasn’t much of a worry to him when he heard an ear-shattering roar from some mountains in the distance. What worried him was what flew out from behind those mountains.

And then Gildarts ran as he never had. As I have said, Gildarts had faced all types of monsters. But not this one. For it was none other than a Dragon. It was jet black, with two red pinpoints for eyes. Not to mention that it was about as big as a streamliner. It flew straight towards Gildarts, covering the fairly large distance between them in matter of seconds.

“Hundred year quest”, he thought. “I’m not sure if I have even a hundred seconds to live.”

It swooped down at him. He tried rolling off to a side. But this wasn’t something he could’ve outrun. Its wings swept him away. He flew, airborne for a few seconds, and landed straight on his back. His back didn’t hurt much. But the point where the wings struck him hurt like hell.

He fell face down. He rolled around- or at least tried to, but he felt a few broken ribs. He looked down at his injury. A large black gash had replaced more than half of his guild stamp. He couldn’t even bring himself to cuss. Talk about having the winds being knocked out of your lungs.

He watched the mighty dragon alight in front of him.  This time he was certain he’d not get out of this. Then he looked up and made the mistake of looking straight into those eyes. Their laser-like gaze entranced him.

 Unsteadily, as if he were drunk, he got up. He accepted the fact he was about to die.

You may be wondering how the mighty and brave Gildarts had lost all his resolve and strength so easily. That was the very effect of Acnologia’s sheer presence on all living beings surrounding it. Not that he knew it was called that. The fact that Gildarts wasn’t crying like a baby and begging for mercy itself was an astounding feat.

The dragon cocked its head to a side, as if it were thinking, “Why is this human still not dead?”

It then gave out a roar, and slashed at Gildarts viciously. The last thing he saw was the evening sun, as red as blood. As red as the eyes of the dragon…..

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  • 2 months later...

This is from a long-ish prologue to my crossover. It is the only part that contains characters in the actual Pokemon universe for the prologue.

It probably sucks, because I've never written the characters from Platinum version before...


“A Max Revive…..my Badge Case…..the Master Ball with….I think Regigigas, and this thing probably contains my Contest Ribbons….Shit.”


The other Master Ball is gone.


That Master Ball is gone.


That one has….


“Aaron…..he took…...one of my Pokemon.” Dawn gasped. She could never tell anyone that it was the Master Ball she had used to save the world, to capture one of the most dangerous Pokemon in the world. There was only one person who knew -- but she was away, studying myths, as always.


Aaron gasped. “T-that’s theft! Don’t you worry, Dawn, I’m going to get someone to report it to the police right away. This…..that man juststole the Champion’s Pokemon!” He ran out of the chamber.

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  • 1 month later...

Okay I don't know how but I managed to come up with this bit one late night in a near sleep like sate ,it's going to belong to a Horror , Drama, Romance Beyblade fic 


Oh no , Oh no no no no it was entirely wrong he moved the offending appendage till it was in the proper position. There he thought  now it was in the proper place, But now the hair was wrong why did it never work out for him . 

Frustrated he decided to start again , a job was never done unless it was perfect that what his father told him when he showed him how it was done. Besides it wasn’t like he wasted time  it had been rather fun  quite knowledgeable really  he rather liked how she screamed when he should her, her own blood

Yes, starting  again will make him find the perfect one , the next one hopefully won't be a mistake like this one.



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I think I'm going to get a headache trying to work out what they're about. Here's snippet from mine.


“You’ve worn the Jedi robes after all,” Mace Windu stated by way of greeting.  Nathrrya’s brows rose on seeing the Council master.  She didn’t know his rank when she first met the dark-skinned man, but Qui-Gon had informed her that Master Windu was the head of the Jedi Council while Master Yoda was the Grand Master of the Jedi Order.


“You sound surprised, Master Windu,” she replied with a slight smile.


Windu smirked and put his hands behind his back as he looked at her.  “I believe you said a Sith wouldn’t be seen dead wearing them,” he said dryly.


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I wrote this before I left. It's just thing from my crossover's prequel (fyi read Entwined Red Chains Of Fate on my AO3! ^^):


Matsuba smiled. He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, a black shape appeared and began to act as if it was sucking the floor from within. When it stopped, Yunho could see a gaping, fogging white hole within the blackness.


“Only trainers who have become gifted with clairvoyance can summon a portal to the Reverse World. Don’t worry, Yunho. It works the same way this world does -- with a twist.”

With that, Matsuba suddenly took Yunho’s hand and jumped into the black hole. 

Yunho felt as if he was falling from the sky, into the sepths of nothingness. Was this his fate? 

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Alright, Songyweon's story seems to be about two individuals entering the Reverse World in pokemon. Shenanigans ensue. 


He grabbed my wrist. “One of the Sisters, in the courtyard.”

The man fainted as my eyes bulged in surprise. The one night that I had chosen to rest instead of stand watch was the night that someone decided to sneak into the monastery. Holy mother of Gwyn. I flew out of my room but suddenly stopped myself in my tracks. I was literally naked. After running back into my quarters and throwing my uniform on I turned towards the exit once again. I caught a glimpse of the brilliant cloak given to me by my brothers and sisters and pinned it on as I marched into the night.

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WIP scene for Pokemon Gray (Unova novelization):

“Just because it’s what’s normal to you, doesn’t mean that it’s normal for everyone else,” Touya began, the words careful and measured as he watched the older teen that sat across from him. 

Doubt quirked N’s brow. It didn’t change the intensity of his silver eyed stare.

Touya drew a slow breath, tapping his fingertips against the tabletop. N was a man on a mission. He wasn’t sure that he could dissuade him from it, but he could try. “Let’s try the Socratic method.” He leaned across the table to pull a sheet of paper and pencil from the library supplies, and scratched out a darkened half with crosshatching and darker still shapes against that side of the paper. On the opposite side, haphazard grass and trees. Touya tapped the eraser against the dark side of his drawing. “This is where everyone starts out, really. We have expectations, preconceived notions of what the world is like. Sometimes we’re right, sometimes we’re wrong.”

This time it was N’s turn to drum his fingertips, the motion slow and repetitive. “And you think I’m … incorrect.” The statement was flat, as if the word put a bad taste in his mouth. Tension sang across the backs of N’s hands. Each tap brought the tendons up underneath his skin, the motions careful and precise. 

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Ooh! If this is Touya (YAY FOR JAPANESE NAMES!) and N's first meeting, then it's DAMN GOOD!

Another snippet from the main story portion of my crossover:


"There’s a call for you at the break room, man. It’s from Minho. “


Kyuhyun raised his eyebrows. “This paper is due in three days, ‘Myeon. Tell him to call again in a few hours. Besides, I told him last time we met up not to call me while I’m working.”


Junmyeon nodded and returned to the break room. Kyuhyun overheard an annoyed huff a few seconds later, and turned around from his PC to see Junmyeon rushing out toward him again. “He says it’s urgent this time, Kyu. Something to do with what’s been on the news recently.”


Then, Junmyeon leaned over towards Kyuhyun’s ear to keep the other students from listening in. “It’s about the Sinnoh League, man,” Junmyeon whispered. “He says that the guy behind it is the guy who led the other guys we’re looking for.”


What the fuck, Kyuhyun thought.


Reluctantly, Kyuhyun shut his laptop off and headed for the break room with Junmyeon.


Kyuhyun picked up the phone. “Yeah?”


“Hey, Kyu. I’m in Sinnoh. Just flew there this morning, that’s why I didn’t answer your text barrage about you finding an actual Dawn Stone. You’ve seen the news, right?”


“Yeah, man, it’s terrible. Is the Champion alright? I heard one of the Elites didn’t manage to get out in time.”


“Nah, they’re all safe. Which is surprising, considering I was called to investigate the damage, and the damage is tremendous. They’re gonna have to rebuild almost the entire building.”


“Damn. Anyways, Myeon told me that you think the guy responsible is the guy in charge of all the guy’s you’ve investigated.”


“Yeah. There was a note I found that’s a lot like the others. Of course, I won’t know for sure until I finish looking over what’s left of the League, interrogating whoever was at the League, which includes the Elite Four and Dawn…”


“I can imagine it’s going to be hard.”


“Yeah, it will. I just hope she’s willing to talk about what she was apparently put through, unlike Champion Mei at first....” Then, Minho’s voice suddenly grew softer. “The media didn’t mention this at all, because I begged them not to, but the reason why this guy burned down the League was to get access to this secret room. Because that secret room apparently has a Pokemon he wants.A Pokemon that Champion Dawn was supposed to keep safe and hidden for the rest of her life.”


“Oh Arceus…….don’t tell me this guy wants to start the next Team Flare. “


“I already told you he isn’t. It’s just him and three other guys he trusts with all his heart to get his job done and “achieve his ultimate world for him and his light”.”

“That’s totally reassuring, Minho. Don’t forget that while we’re trying to organise our own little team of excellent trainers that can possibly stop them, hopefully harnessing the power of Mega Evolution, I have a fucking paper to finish and a career to work towards. Meanwhile, you already have one and you’re still of high school age.”

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Well it's something to do with Pokemon at a guess but that's about far as my knowledge goes.

 The Accuser had just entered hyperspace and Piett stood beside his commanding officer on the Bridge.  “If I may my lord might I ask a personal question?”

“Of course, doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” Nathrrya replied

“Why did you name your ship Violet Rose?”  The question had been bothering him for some time.

The Sith chuckled. “A fair question. Let me ask you something, Captain:  what do you suppose most people see when they look at me?”

Piett frowned as he considered the question. “A powerful Sith Lord?” he ventured.

Nathrrya nodded. “Exactly... but that’s not all I am, Firmus. I’m a woman, too, and sadly I don’t get to just be a woman as often as I’d like. That’s why I named my ship Violet Rose. I like flowers, Firmus, and chocolates.”  She smiled and looked up, almost as if she was remembering something blissful  “Oh Force!  I can’t remember the last time I had a decent box of chocolates.” There was something wistful in her voice.

Firmus Piett just hummed thoughtfully.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Star Wars fanfic! I love the drama.

This has already been published.

[Jaejoong clutched his belt tightly, sweating with exhaustion.


The road up to the League Headquarters in Sinnoh was quite rugged, steep, and full of dangerous dips. Even the most experienced trainer could take days to get through the road and make it to the top of the cliff, but Jaejoong wasn’t like most experienced trainers.


He had been there before.


But back then, he was just a child, fearlessly exploring the unknown with his best friend. Now, eight years later, Jaejoong was an adult. He could see the danger in the road, the danger that forbade him to let out his beloved Pokemon outside of battle, unless they were needed to pass through an obstacle.


Back then, Yunho had been so reassuring. Jaejoong chuckled as he briefly remembered the day the two of them had decided to explore the League together with merely baby Pokemon by their side. It was a miracle they had made it to the top. Their bodies were bruised and battered, but when they saw the majestic Headquarters looming over their heads, Jaejoong had forgotten completely about the trials they had just went through.


And Yunho looked so happy, because he was this close to his dream….]

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Though I don't like Pokemon enough to make a fanfic about it, I gotta say I found this sample interesting! 

Now, I know this may be much longer than 4-5 sentences, just read it, tell me what you think, and if you can guess what's about you have my permission to go and crab a cookie.

"Tests became ridiculously harder than I remember! It seems it was yesterday when I approved the same test without problems, but of course, maths are much more complex than then. In fact, I think I cheated in some tests, involuntarily of course. Due to the nature of my work I have been forced to learn Spanish, German and Russian, plus a couple of dialects spoken only in the monster world making the language test was a piece of cake. And I have lived for over 600 years, so I was present at many of the events described in the history test.

Now that I mention it, remember when I said I had lost faith in humanity? Well, one of the reasons for that was the way they treated those who didn't belong to their kind. Hunters, exorcists, crusaders... inquisitors, all of them fighting against the so called "Forces of Darkness" that threatened the human race. In particular, the Witch Trials were famous for being brutal. I can not begin to describe the torture to which they were subjected to, but unfortunately I witnessed the sentencing of one of my best friends to the bonfire. On that occasion, I was about to bring down to ashes the town of Salem but I refrained myself when I saw her face; despite the great pain she was suffering she begged me not to do it, that some day they would understand that humans and monsters can coexist. It has been 350 years since then and nothing at all has changed.

Forgive me, some things are hard to say no matter how much time has passed. Back to the present day, Nick better be preparing that rescue mission I asked him for a couple of days ago. I have no idea of what is he planning so I can only hope that none of the Gremory gets hurt. I told Issei to train by the time I got back and even I told Nick that he's not fit to combat situations just yet, I hope he can help him train with his Sacred Gear. I only got a peek of it and Sacred Gears aren't my field of expertise.

Anyway, the only thing left for me to do is wait and pray to find the daughters of Tsurara and Fujiko. Mikogami assured me that both of them were in school grounds but it's been more than a week since I got here and there is no sign of them yet. I guess I'll have to speak with him about it. With a bit of luck, both girls will be as peaceful and calm as their mothers..."


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Hm, sounds like that titular phoenix in your fanfiction, right?

This game oughta be good ;)

"He stood by the window, admiring the lovely snowy scene outside. Snowflakes were falling down so beautifully, the cold winter wind was blowing all over the place, further influencing the people to wear warmer clothes, but not him.

You see for he is used to the temperatures above the tolerance level of you and I, he was in a place once, where average man couldn't bear a second. But that's the thing, he isn't average.

He wasn't as social as his other teammates were; in fact, you can say that solitude was his only friend. Being alone all his life, he was used to the emptiness, used to the voids and used to the sound of things which wouldn't be normally heard, example the distinct sound of the wind blowing, just like that night. But that night was different, as he wasn't alone, for she was with him."

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Novel excerpt~


Irritation flashed across Curran’s eyes for just an instant, and was gone, replaced by arch humor as he became distracted watching Quinn again.  “Is that so?” he murmured, clearly no longer entirely paying attention to Raz.  The man was only human, after all.

The girl whispered urgently to him in French, but he waved her away.  She scowled up at him and then flounced off in a huff.  He spared a look of annoyance at her back, and then shook his head.  “Women, non?”

If he was completely without self-control, he would’ve frowned, and obviously so at Curran’s casual dismissal of the girl with him. Especially with the comment that followed. But instead, that bland smile still played about his lips. “Maybe the problem is you.”

Curran laughed.  “Surely not.”

Quinn emerged from the store, grinning with delight… and froze the moment her eyes fell on Curran.  Rage and pain chased each other across her face, and then she glanced at Raz – then to Curran, and back at Raz – and for an instant was horrified.

Curran noticed, glanced at Raz himself, and then grinned at Quinn with cunning in his blue eyes.

Quinn set her jaw, her storm eyes darkening nearly to black as she settled on rage, and she crossed the concourse.

Through the skylights the summer sky darkened as gray clouds rolled in.

“What do you want?” Quinn asked as she joined the men.

Curran stepped close to her.  “I missed you.”  He raised a hand to stroke her flushed cheek.

Quinn’s expression softened.  “Oh, that’s so sweet.”  Then she shoved him back, hard.  “Do I look that stupid to you?  It’s only been six months, asshole.”

Curran laughed.  “No, you’ve never looked stupid.”  He looked her over.  “But you look enticing enough, I had to try.  Who are you fishing for, Quinn?”  He cocked an eyebrow.

Quinn blushed, flickered her eyes at Raz, and then blushed harder and glared at Curran.  “Just go the fuck away.”

Curran shook his head, clearly pleased.  “Oh no.  This is far too entertaining.”

The brothers would’ve had to have been blind to miss how Quinn’s mood spiked and crashed when she stepped out of the store. But while Ladon took half a step back, edging away with the motion of shifting his weight, Raz held his ground. He didn’t budge until Curran got it in his head to be pushy. The telekinetic was dead silent when he moved. The din of the concourse camouflaged his movements, but sound? He didn’t need the help.

A strong hand fell on the goth’s shoulder from behind, and an easy smile spread on the brunet’s lips. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“If you wanted entertainment, why didn’t you just say so?” he asked, and his genial tone took on a nigh imperceptible edge. “It’s not as if there’s a shortage of things to do.”

Curran looked down at Raz’s hand and then at Raz.  He seemed to be calculating his options.  “Now, surely you don’t want to make a public scene?”  He smirked at Quinn.  “We don’t want to attract attention, do we?”

A fierce grin pulled at Quinn’s mouth.  “Oh, you’ve got the wrong girl, junior bird man.  When I strike out, nobody looks at me.  They look up and call it an ‘act of God.’”

Lighting flashed overhead, bringing an instant clap of thunder that shook the windows and made the shoppers around them cry out and look up in fright.  Lightning danced for an instant across Quinn’s dark eyes.

For a moment Curran stopped smiling.  Then he glanced at Raz and Ladon.  “You’re bluffing, little slut.  You won’t strike me here.”

Now he wanted to sling mud, did he? Quinn’s little display told Raz all he needed to know. Bird boy was in the know. He was in it deep. Goodie. The faint line that cut through the far corner of Raz’s brow twitched with it.


Raz’s grip on Curran’s shoulder only just tightened. “You know, why even bring ‘God’ into it?” he mused, and lifted a brow at Quinn from over the goth’s shoulder. Pressure began to build in Curran’s chest. It mounted with each passing second. It made his heart work simply to do its job. To keep blood moving. “Shit happens.”


The ever growing pressure enveloped Curran’s lungs, squeezing them into a vice. Cutting off Curran’s next breath before it was half drawn. Throttling his precious airflow. Deoxygenation was inevitable, and stabbed into the goth’s shoulder as the seconds ticked by. Lactic acid coagulated in his muscles. The burn in his lungs was encompassing the rest of his body. When Raz spoke again, his voice was soft – but crystal clear to his intended recipient. “Sometimes people … Just. Stop. Breathing.”

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Dramaaaaaaaaaa~ I live for it.

I've been stimulated by my English homework to write, so here comes another excerpt.

["You've got to be kidding me."

Yunho looked at Changmin. "I'm serious, dude. I only want the best for this little one," he said as he gently lifted the Eevee into his arms.

"We literally just hatched them three days ago! And now you suddenly want a Jolteon just because the guy sitting next to you on the plane gave you a Thunderstone? You're crazy, man."

"Changmin, I'm dead serious. I don't know," said Yunho, "I just thought it would be helpful if Charmeleon's weaknesses could be balanced out. Champion Kotone once said that type coverage works well as a full battle strategy. Plus, you can't trigger a Leafeon evolution in Unova. I studied this myself, dude," Yunho continued as Changmin stared incredulously. "I want a Jolteon."

"But why now? I mean, look. We're not just going to be studying our butts off for an awesome job in four years here. There's tons of Electric Pokemon you can catch in Unova, like Blitzle, Joltik, Tynamo..."

Yunho cut Changmin off. "Y'know, maybe just this once, I actually feel like trusting my instinct is a good idea. Ad that I feel like a Jolteon makes a better fit for Charmeleon than a Zebstrika."

With that, Yunho handed the hyperactive Eevee to Changmin, who reluctantly held it while Yunho reached for the Thunderstone in his pocket.

Yunho gently caressed the Eevee until it looked him in the eye, its own eyes wide and shimmering with glee. "Eebui?" it cried.

"Hey there," Yunho grinned as he slowly held out the Thunderstone. Suddenly, it began to glow a bright yellow, as Eevee jumped from Changmin's grip, startling the young man. The Eevee touched the stone, letting it glow even brighter. Soon, the Pokemon was completely engulfed in white light, growing bigger, longer, yellower..............]

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  • 1 month later...

"If you only want to win the match, it will be the most shameful matter for me." 

Chandika Hathurusinghe, the head coach of Bangladesh cricket team since the past 5 years, spoke, with a pair of emotionless eyes, with a voice that was more mysterious than the sound when clouds roar. 

"But a match is a match after all." Said Shakib al Hasan, currently the best bowler of Bangladesh. "Moreover, it's our 100th joy in one day matches." 

"So what?" said the Sri Lankan coach as if nohing had been gained. "You said a match is a match after all. But is the height of your goal is so low? Or do you guys think yourself low?" 

Their heads were bowed, heartbeats were stopped,  heart shivered hearing that. 

Really, are we so low? so bad? 

sorry  I forgot to say, my first post was a pokemon fanfic. wasn't it? 

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  • Administrator

An old excerpt from a one shot about my beloved OTP, Lance/Lyra from Pokemon.


“I caught Lyra sunbathing topless,” Lance answered, smirking at the memory. Damn, what a sight. The poor girl was mortified, but what did she have to be embarrassed about? She was a pretty trainer with a decent sized rack. The Elder’s eyes widened, and he choked on a chip, while Clair just gave him a ‘what the hell’ look. “I got an eyeful. She was so embarrassed, so I thought I should do something nice for her. Return the favour, you know.”

“The poor girl!” The Elder exclaimed. “Did you apologize to her? She’s such a sweet young lady…”

“I did, but she didn’t take it well.”

The Elder shook his head as if ashamed something like this had happened. The Elder had a fondness for Lyra as well, giving her a special Dratini to keep. Clair, on the other hand, did not share the same appreciation. Lance wondered if she was actually secretly jealous because Lyra had passed the test and she still hadn’t.

“You’re not thinking of doing what I think you are doing… because if you are, I’d strongly advise against it unless you are keen on embarrassing yourself,” Clair pointed out, sticking her hand into the chip packet, “Just because you caught her doesn’t mean she needs to catch you as well. The whole, ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ doesn’t need to happen.” She pulled out a chip and ate it, then reached down for another one.

The Elder caught onto Lance’s idea quickly. “Do not bring shame to the clan, Lance. You should apologize to her nicely, and offer to take her out somewhere. That’s what a true dragon master would do.”

Clair shrugged. “He’s right, you know. Save yourself the embarrassment.”

“I am doing the right thing,” Lance insisted, “This is simply one of those ‘you showed me yours accidentally, so I have to show mine as well’ situations. That way we’re both even,” he added, frowning slightly. It made far more sense in his head than it did out loud.


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Copy/Pasting part of a draft, because I like this scene. :D


Xander had seen the number on his screen twice before. The third time, he had a name to attach to the face. The identity. That alone was dangerous. It would be too easy for things to spiral out of control if the wrong thought piqued someone’s interest.

One hand loosened the eldrege-knotted tie at his throat, weighting the consequences of his action. The young teen found himself pacing his father’s office, for the moment ignoring the trade he was supposed to be learning in favor of staring at the small screen in his hand. After a pause, he glanced out the observatory window to the main office below.

The fact that both of Colton Hughes’ children were reputed geniuses and achieving leaps and bounds by their teenage years made him conspicuously invisible when present, unless it was for his father’s associates to preen like proud peacocks. It still didn’t make him invisible to the right people. Xander licked his lips and drew a thin breath, before he finally hit 'call'.


Alerich’s phone let out a discreet chirp.  He set his tablet aside, and his brows rose with curiosity at the unfamiliar number on his screen.  How very odd.  He hesitated a moment, and then took the call.  “Ashimar,” he said in a crisp tone.  Maybe someone on the Coalition had a new phone.



That Alerich even answered on first dial was surprising enough. Given how the man valued his privacy, though, Xander knew he would quickly hang up as a wrong number unless given incentive. “Good afternoon, Mr. Ashimar.” He spared a glance at the main office floor, and continued. “It has come to my attention that you’re sheltering persons of interest.” Much like the older man, his own words were spoken with a crisp and proper inflection. Not to the full scale of a British accent, but as close as a natural American one could get.


Alerich frowned.  The voice was as unfamiliar as the number, either a woman or a young boy, cultured and educated, if American.  “Would you please tell me who you are, and where you came by this number?”  And how did this person know about Raz and Ladon?


“Who I am is rather irrelevant.” And it was. That could change in the blink of an eye. “As for your contact information … I have my sources.” They just weren’t sources that the British man would understand. Xander drummed his fingertips against the leg of his slacks, almost reconsidering his plan of ‘attack.’ “However, the same applies to those that have taken interest in your guests.”


Okay, fuck it, he’d take information when it was offered.  He knew from Quinn that the boys had been incarcerated for a period of time, and through both her and Winter they felt the organization responsible was above their pay grade.  He was hungry for information.  “I’m listening.  Tell me what you have.”  He brought up the IM feature on his computer and sent a message to Danny, the family’s computer specialist in Tokyo, with feather-light strokes of his keyboard.

Trace my call.

An instant later he knew his message had been read.


Xander didn’t have to hear the keyboard to know what Alerich was doing. He knew enough about the family to know about their resources. “If your people in Tokyo have begun searching for the Reiner’s records, which in itself will be a feat to find, you can imagine the ripples they leave in their wake.” Xander allowed a pause, anticipating the man’s unease. It was possibly a void future, but then, his mentioning it could have just made it real.


Reiner.  Alerich jotted down a quick note on his tablet.  The boys had never dropped their last name… which still lent itself to the question of who or what he was talking to.

He tapped his finger on the desk, not liking what he was hearing.  But he decided to keep going and ignore, for the moment, that this person seemed to have information on more than the boys.  “What can you tell me about this organization so we know what we’re looking at?  What are they called?”  He didn’t know how much time Danny would need to trace the call.  Danny was arguably the best in the world, but this stranger shouldn’t know he even had ‘people in Tokyo.’


Organization. Well, that meant that the Mulcahys knew something, if he was suspecting it to be a group. But that only covered half of the problem. “I imagine you wouldn’t know them, being they’re compromised largely of humans.” ‘Largely’ remained the key word, though. “They go by the acronym of PSO.” Unfortunately, what the acronym meant had yet to show up in his pauses. “However, as interested as they are in recouping their investments, there is another party that has taken notice.”


“PSO?  Is that a Reaper group?”  And they wanted the boys back, apparently.  Alerich glanced at the message from Danny.  Still working.  He bit back a curse, unnerved by his caller’s degree of knowledge.  “You said another party is involved.  Another psychic?  What kind of psychic are you?  Is that how you know about my family?”  Was this person imprisoned, too?  Dammit, Danny, hurry!


“They may be allied with the Reapers, at this point. I haven’t seen anything substantial on that front to confirm it,” Xander said, keeping his tone smooth. But he dreaded when the two groups joined hands. One thought to weaponize them, and the other sought to commit a complete genocide. Alerich kept a busy mind, though; jumping from one sub-thought to another before he could address the first. The teen’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Psychic by rote, psychic by association. Maintaining his anonymity would be even more difficult, now. Statistically, there were simply too few in their parent phylum. It was a good thing their phones had security layers to preserve privacy.

Xander chose not to answer the question of his bent. His information was valuable enough that Alerich wasn’t likely to hang up on him for doing so. “There is another, yes. What they share in common with PSO is their desire to weaponize the eldest Reiner.”


Only Raz?  Maybe because they didn’t consider Ladon to be a weapon?  Granted, given what Winter had seen in the boy he was mostly a danger to himself more than others.  “What do they want him to do for them?”


Xander let out a soft breath. “Political assassinations, on one hand. On the other, however … Some people that want to change the world are actually capable of doing so. We would no longer have to hide from humans were they to succeed, but it would be at the expense of much blood and numerous power vacuums. In asserting ownership over the Reiners, they would have the tools to displace the Eldest from their seat of power.”


Alerich’s blood ran cold.  He typed to Danny, Make sure my phone isn’t being traced.  He wasn’t entirely sure that his office wasn’t bugged, but with the phone pressed to his ear he was fairly certain the caller’s voice wouldn’t carry.  He dropped his voice to a murmur.  “Do not repeat that to anyone.  Not even me.  Do you understand?”

No tracking detected.  Nearly done with the trace on your call.

Alerich nodded, holding back his relieved breath.  “Can you tell me who the second party is?”


Alerich’s reaction confirmed his suspicions that the Eldest were a dictatorship. Xander nodded to himself, quiet for a moment. “Very well, then.” He hoped he hadn’t just endangered their family due to his patchwork knowledge on the group.

But then Alerich asked his most dangerous question yet. Reflexive tension knotted the boy’s shoulders, and he rolled them in attempt to relieve it. That attempt was unsuccessful. After an elongated pause, Xander finally responded. “You can find their information under the na- ”

Pain ripped through his mind with the ferocity of the Greek Furies.

The boy’s vision failed right as his knees gave out, and his phone caught the muffled thud of his body as it skittered under the desk. A faint whimper was audible.


“Hello?  Hello?”  The whimper was unmistakable to a father’s ears.  He’d been talking to a child.  “Boy, can you hear me?”  What had happened?  But he received no answer but staccato breathing.

He turned at the soft flash from his computer, his heart beating frantically, helplessly.  Got it.  The information scrolled down his chat frame.   New York.  He smiled grimly and typed, I need all the information you can connect with this phone.  Maybe it would even be possible to get to this abused child, and get him out.

On it.

There was little else he could do.  Alerich cut the connection and pressed the phone to his forehead, hoping that the boy would be all right.

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Here’s a very short and possibly scrapped snippet from a fanfiction idea that I really really liked. Scrapped because it doesn't fit the new agenda. 

He burst into the classroom, five minutes later, interrupting Haruno Sakura mid-speech. The class watched him with some interest, tie over his shoulder, jacket splayed open to reveal a ketchup stain, loose shoe laces and lunged for Kakashi’s bag.

“Kakashi, love,” he hollered. “I need to borrow your phone. This is an emergency.”

“Mhmm?” Kakashi glanced back at his friend. “Do I want to know?”

“No,” he panted and rummaged through Kakashi’s bag. “No you don’t.”

“Ugh! Uchiha-sensei!” Haruno Sakura snapped. “Stop interrupting our education!”

“Don’t worry about Kakashi’s class, Haruno.” Obito waved her off, “You, my dear, will definitely graduate with a scholarship, become a surgeon and make a six-figure salary while the rest of us slog with our jobs on low pay.” He looked up and gave her a firm nod. “I believe in you.”  

Haruno clenched the flap of her textbook. “That’s not—” She was interrupted.

“Besides, no one knows if his degree is…” Obito leaned against the desk and dropped his tone to half-a-whisper. The class leaned forward, mouths hanging open. “…real.” He said.

“Obito, please, I’d like to keep my dignity as an educator.” Kakashi slapped his neck. Obito coughed, stumbled forward and nearly dropped Kakashi's phone. “Please take my phone, my lunch and your cousin and whatever you need—and get. out.”

“Same phone password?” Obito rubbed his neck, and scowled. 

Kakashi gave it a pause. “No.”

“Thanks Bakashi,” Obito waved. “Later kiddies, I hope you’ve done your homework! I recommend using Kakashi’s class to do it. Don’t copy Haruno’s work. I know you could never hope to be as excellent.” He grabbed Kakashi’s phone. He tripped over his loose lace, and caught himself, “Some days…It feels like the whole world is against me,” he groaned and left the room. 

Kakashi then turned his attention to Sakura. She had a fist rested on her hip. She raised a brow.

“For the record.” He cleared his throat. “It’s real.” His eyes crinkled behind his surgical mask.

She rolled her eyes, twisted her textbook around and continued to read.  

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From my latest fanfic project:

The professor had told her to challenge a few gyms first, before the gym in Lumiose’s Prism Tower, on her quest for the League Championship.


But Manon was never one to listen. Manon liked to trust her instinct. Manon threw herself and her Ivysaur at the Clembot. And lost.


The defeat was heartbreaking. On some days, Manon would wonder how long it had been since she had ran from the Prism Tower straight to the Pokemon Center nearby, tears streaming from her cheeks. A month, or two? Manon hadn’t seen the professor since leaving the lab with her new Bulbasaur back then. She didn’t want to return to the lab disheartened, but...


Manon didn’t know when she would be ready to face a gym leader again.


Since then, Manon left Lumiose, began to travel the region, and caught more Pokemon to add to her team, treating them all the more the same. A Flabebe and a Bunnelby soon stayed by her side as the distance between Manon and Lumiose grew bigger.


Manon soon reached the wide-mouthed opening of Glittering Cave, a place that would lead her to the city of Shalour, and the origin of a mysterious power trainers she passed spoke of.


Mega Evolution.




Manon doesn’t know it, but she is holding a raw, molten brown Kangaskhanite in her hands. Just as she is about to lift it out of the broken cave wall, a deep voice rings from behind her.


“What do you think you are doing?”


Manon nearly drops the slab in fright. She turns around, and a man with a bright mane of orange hair towers over her. But she doesn’t cower.


“Who are you?” she asks.


“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Fleur-de-lis, and that slab of stone you’re holding there is a raw Mega Stone.”


“M-mega Stone?” Manon falters. So it seems that this Fleur-de-lis knows about Mega Evolution. Manon senses the intimate knowledge he hides with his small smile, decides to ask more. “What’s a Mega Stone? Is it something you use to Mega Evolve any Pokemon in the world?”


A small chuckle escapes Fleur-de-lis’s mouth, before he begins to explain. “No, no, little girl, Mega Stones only work on certain Pokemon. You also have to have a strong bond with said Pokemon in order for Mega Evolution to happen.”


Manon nods, trying to process the facts. “So, does that mean my Ivysaur--”


“Oh, you have an Ivysaur, eh? Bring it out for a moment. I’d like to see it.”


Manon hesitates, then sets the slab down and reaches for Ivysaur’s Pokeball. It lets out an unusually loud roar once released, craning its neck to bury her head against Manon’s pants.


Fleur-de-lis bends down to examine Ivysaur closely, making the Pokemon inch closer and closer to Manon. Finally, he picks himself up, asks Manon a pressing question.


“Do you and your Ivysaur wish to become stronger?”




“This is a Keystone,” Fleur-de-lis says, pointing to the small, shining pink ord resting inside the black wristband. Manon gazes at it longingly, knowing the implications that would come if she was able to wear it.


“And this--” Fleur-de-lis points to a similar-looking stone with a blue-green hue among others in a glass cabinet, “is a Venusaurite.”


Manon’s eyes widen at the sheer thought of her Ivysaur holding such an item at its final stages. She can almost sense the power emanating from the Venusaurite, from the other Mega Stones, too. It is then she realises that this Fleur-de-lis must know more than he claims about Mega Evolution -- that he could be Manon’s mentor.

“F-Fleur-de-lis-san!” Manon says. “May...may I have...

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It's....a Pokemon fic. Something about evolving them to a huge degree? I know almost nothing about Pokemon, so I can't really make a better assessment than that, sorry. x_x

I'd like to share a snippet from one of my original works in progress.:)

Two men had passed into the courtyard, across from Rana and Azur, both armed and armored. One, a few inches taller than Azur, was armored heavily in plate mail that shone except for the splatters of dark brown blood dotting it. Swirls of golden designs curled about the edges of the plates, and ran over his close helm in intricate knots. A crimson cloak was draped around his shoulders. He held a spiked mace in hand, the ball dripping and bits of white and green flesh hanging from the spikes. His companion dwarfed him by a bit over a head, broad and thick, with the swell of his belly pushing against his mail hauberk. He wore several thick furs around his shoulders and covering his back, and wrapped around his calves over leather boots. A steel boar helm covered his face, and a war pick as well as a beaten sword hung from his belt. The enormous brute of a man used a mancatcher as a walking stick. 

The four of them had frozen for a brief moment to take each other in. Suddenly, the cloaked knight laughed again. 

"What did I tell you! This is why you listen to me." He and the one he'd called Miles approached Rana and Azur as if they weren't covered in gore. Not that Azur or herself were better off. Still, she tightened her fists on her weapons, and noticed Azur adjusting her grip out of the corner of her eye. 

"Oh, I'm sorry my ladies." The knight's voice never failed to carry an amused note and a joyful inflection, "I realize I hadn't introduced us. I am called the Knight of Smiles, and this is my companion, Miles the Boar." The men stopped a little over sword's length away. They stared at the women expectantly, but even though she picked through her mind for where she'd heard that name before, Rana had no clue who the men were. She and Azur looked at each other questioningly, then returned their gazes to the men before them. 

"Apologies Sers, but neither of us can seem to recall such titles." Before she could inquire about their origin and their mission, she was interrupted by a single, loud laugh of surprise. "Miles, can you believe-the indignity-I..." The Knight of Smiles sighed. "Well we'll just have to make our names truly known to you, I suppose."

Miles the Boar's mancatcher lashed out in an attempt to knock Azur down, and instead struck the flat of Azur's longsword blade. She growled and pushed it aside, sliding her sword to align her point with the Boar's throat and thrust forward while simultaneously guarding herself. Rana was set upon by the Knight of Smiles, mace flying at her in swift arcs as she ducked and dodged the blows. Her first thrust struck the knight's off-hand, piercing but a few small inches through the mail. He slapped the blade away as if it had just glanced off and swung diagonally from the ground up with a chuckle, Rana easily dodging once again. Her opponent was so well armored it would be a challenge to slip her blade between the joints and gaps of plate and mail. 

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I bet some of you will know for sure what this story is about. Take a look :D


It was the only thing that the knight, who sat in the corner of the narrow cell, could see; barely illuminated by a beam of light that passed through the small hatch on the ceiling.

The last thing he remembered was being ambushed when his squad passed by one of the so called Undead Asylum. Although Cyan was convinced that the word 'Asylum' was nothing more than a euphemism to say that if somebody was found branded with the Dark Sign, the clerics of the Way of White would send him to this prison by command of Allfather Lloyd.

"How on earth did I end up here?" Cyan asked to himself.

He removed one of his gloves and looked at his hand. This single view confirmed his suspicions: his arms were extremely skinny, giving a glimpse of the bones that made up his hands. The coloration of his body was unnatural; it was an odd tint of red rather than his normal skin tone. He sighed deeply; this was the normal color of those that have turned into the Undead. He didn't even bother checking his reflection in the small bucket nearby. He knew he wouldn't be able to recognize the being that he would see.

It didn't take him long to figure out that the door was locked, he deduced that the lock was strong enough to withstand anything he threw at it, that was assuming he still he had any of his gear, somebody must have removed it from him when he was unconscious.

However; as the wise men would say: The gods acts in mysterious ways

As Cyan tried to figure out a means of escape he heard a noise that he recognized on the rooftop of the cell. When he looked up he saw a knight was crouched atop of the skylight looking back at him. The stranger was wearing a complete set of armor. Yet despite the pride Cyan took in recognizing most of the coats of arms from the various realms and families across the world, his eyes, now adapted to the darkness of the room couldn't distinguish the knight before him.

"You need to get out of here, my friend." the stranger said quietly. (...)

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From an unfinished Dark Souls story:


Creighton tightened his grasp on his axe. As much as he wanted to place the blade of his weapon in the man’s skull, he knew his life would end just as quickly. The others were strangely protective of the odd man. Every time Creighton came near to ask a question, Cale would speak some gibberish and run to Bernhart, begging for assistance, claiming Creighton was out to kill him. Now what could have given the odd little man that impression?

“Let’s play a game,” Pate said.

Creighton glared. “A game? I’ve had enough of your lousy games, Pate.” The last ‘game’ they played ended up with him getting stuck in a cell for a few days. The only games he liked to play involved stalking, vetting then killing.  

“A snowball fight.”

“A snowball fight?” Lucatiel repeated, tilting her head to one side, a brow raised. “What is that?”

Pate smiled. “A bit of fun. I learned about it from one of my… associates.” Most likely the associate was a former partner who had met their end in a trap crafted by Pate. The man had serious commitment issues. “You divide up into teams and throw snow at each other,” he added, dropping a hand into the snow. He picked up a handful of the stuff and made a ball out of it.

“That seems…odd,” Lucatiel said.

“Better than sitting around here and freezing our armour off and trading sob stories,” Pate replied. “You and I should join forces. You look like you know how to handle yourself in a fight.”

Creighton snorted. Typical smooth talker Pate was at it again. He could probably even tame a beast with his slick words. “Join my team,” he said, not wanting Pate to team up with the only female knight. “Us Mirrahan knights should stick together.”

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On 10/11/2016 at 1:48 AM, AquilaTempestas said:

Pate smiled. “A bit of fun. I learned about it from one of my… associates.” Most likely the associate was a former partner who had met their end in a trap crafted by Pate. The man had serious commitment issues. “You divide up into teams and throw snow at each other,” he added, dropping a hand into the snow. He picked up a handful of the stuff and made a ball out of it.

LOOL, I loved that part.

Here's from a recent but mostly abandoned work of mine on AO3. Recent being summer, and abandoned because I wanted to reuse ideas for the story for a different project. Also unbeta'd. And to some degree, I didn't edit this part well. 


Kushina had kept the keys to her apartment. Naruto described his mom like fire and sweet things and “she has this little verbal tic at the end of her sentences” and she “has the worst temper ever datteybayoo!”

And Sakura’s heart breaks.

He was a spitting image of his mother.

“Uh…” She pauses. “Nice to meet you Uzu—Namikaze-san.” She stutters. His mother literally lunged for her.

“You look so pale!” Kushina hollers. “Naruto told me you almost died!” She tightens her hold on her.

Dead, Sakura corrected mentally. She felt like she had slithered into someone’s skin, someone’s life and all she had was a pathetic load of depressive parallels.

“Don’t do that ever again!” She said. Sakura patted her shoulder and couldn’t get a word in edge-wise. “Promise me you won’t do something stupid like that, dattebane!”

“I’m sorry.” Sakura tells her. Her voice trailing into a genjutsu as it permeates through Kushina's brain. Kushina stills for a second before continuing. In the genjutsu, Kushina keeps babbling as Sakura locks her in a conversation. And In this life, Sakura can finally confirm that Kushina remains the jinchuuriki. Not Naruto. 

Sakura’s genjutsu seeps beneath her skin as she probes Kushina’s chakra flow, erratic, quick and converging on the center of her stomach. Kushina barely registers the mix, the medical ninjutsu-based genjutsu invading her system. 

She closes her eyes in meditation, navigating passages of rushing water, cages, a ghosting past the single seal and several bars where there’s are two yellow, narrowed eyes—it bares its teeth at her. He can't harm her. She's a fragment of her soul and equally harmless to him. He knows it. She’s done this before with Naruto as she held his hand as he died. Too bad, the Kyuubi was ripped from his soul. 

It’s terrifying, she thinks, gazing up at the monstrous being who regards her with curiosity. This is her first time seeing it in its entirety. 

“Kyuubi.” She says. 

It bares it’s teeth at her as if assessing her general worth. “You are not the woman.”

“I am not.” Sakura confirms.

“You are also not from this world.” Kurama rumbles.

“Also correct.” Sakura continues. “I wonder if you know  why.” She looks around her at the water-logged cage and runs a hand through her hair. “Given how time is standing still here. I would like to know how to get out.”

“So would I.” It says moodily. “I would also love to get out and ravage that pathetic village for caging me in. But we all can’t get whatever we want, right?”

“Can you tell me anything?”  Sakura asks. “Please?” She adds.

Then it grins.

"There is something different about you girl." He snickers. "And I'm not referring to the fact that you are not from this world. You've...altered your soul." 

Sakura say nothing. 

“One like you came.” He adds then. “He was an Uchiha fool.”

She stiffens. Madara? Itachi? Obito? No, it’s not possible…he’s not the same criminal she knows. Her eyes widen. 

“What was his name?”  She demands stepping forward. Her first and last mistake.  

Kurama is a spiteful and prideful beast. He grins first. And then he roars. His roars shake the bars of the cage and ripple powerfully over the water. That’s how her powerful yet feeble strand of genjutsu looses hold over Kushina and she jolts backwards.


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The first paragraphs of my Darkest Dungeon fanfic, Against all Darkness.


-Stanford Hamlet, Sunset-

The old man was sitting in his favorite chair and thinking about the proposition in front of his desk. "I guess it's the only option. Whether I like it or not, I don't see any other way." he thought. Hesitantly, he took the document and read it once again.

"Dear Mr. Colt

As you know, I will be back in town in a few days. The reason for this letter is to remind you to send the letters of my desk to their respective recipients. I understand your disagreement with this decision, but you know better than anyone what my great-grandfather did to that damn place, to the once great and opulent mansion where we once lived without knowing what dwelled at their lowest basements.

We have been there, Mr. Colt, and we both saw the evil that lurks where my ancestor had his excavation sites. Inside it's walls there is an unspeakable horror that needs to be eradicated. Despite the fear of getting back there, we must face that darkness and try our best to contain it where it is before it spreads its tentacles to the villages near the hamlet, or worst." (...)

August Colt heard something outside, interrupting his reading. He stood up and went to check it out, only to find the sun setting in the horizon and a few villagers doing their last chores before the night came. The noise he'd heard was nothing more than the sound of steps of a few kids helping their mother carrying a bucket filled with water from the town's well.

August smiled at the sight, before returning to his desk.

"(...) However, we do not need to face it alone. There are others out there that can help us fight whatever my ancestor awakened, and I have been able to contact some of them in my journey. Each of them has their quirks, some more notable than others I dare to say, but I know we will manage to put these individuals together as a team, as an army against the Darkness. As I mentioned before, you will find a number of letters in my desk in the house at the hamlet. I need you to send them to their respective destinies and stay there until my arrival. Your opposition to bringing stranger to our lands is understandable, but, as father used to say, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Since I have already contact some of them, the first carriages and stagecoaches should arrive at the town a day or two before me. You shall offer them the old guild building as shelter for spend the night until everything is explained to them by me. After all, they should know what they getting into to begin with. In the meantime, treat them well, and since I know you will be watching every move they made, for God's sake August get to know them at least. You know you're getting old when your sense of humor vanishes from the mind.

Wishing the best for you, the hamlet and the people that live in it,


"The Light protect us." August said to himself as he put the letter back in the desk. He rose from his seat, and walked around the office. His master had left him in charge, not only of the house in which Mr. Robert Stanford, himself, and the rest of the service that attended the building resided in, but also in charge of the small village near the cursed manor. With a long sigh, he went back to the long window to take a last sight of the quiet an peaceful hamlet.

"I'm gonna miss these peaceful days," he said. The last villagers retreated to their homes, as the last lights of the day were coming to an end. "I suppose it's a small sacrifice for a greater good, if this works out."

After meditating for a few minutes, he closed the curtains, leaving the room in the dark. He walked downstairs to the first floor, and found two of the maids awake in the living room.

"Kate? Sandra? Why aren't you sleep? You finished your duties two hours ago." The old man said. Both girls were in their early twenties, but while Sandra was Caucasian with a long brunette hair and gray eyes, Kate had ebony skin, short black hair and green eyes. Both of them, however, seemed strangely disturbed by something. They turned to the man.

"The Darkness has arrived, sir." Sandra said, a strange calm in her words. Kate tried to talk to her friend, but her words didn't appear to reach Sandra. "Do you think The Light can defeat it?" she asked.

"I'm so sorry, sir." Kate tried to excuse themselves with the chief butler. "She started to speak about the Darkness, and, and its battle against the Light, and-"

"It's okay, Kate." August said raising a hand to appease her. "I don't know the answer to that, Sandra my dear." he replied, taking a seat beside the girls. "We can only hope the Darkness stays until dawn, and the Light prevail until twilight. After all, there must be a balance between the two of them." the man said. Both girls nodded in agreement. "Let's hope the master's plan works properly." With that said, he let the maids to stay for as long as they wished, and retired to bed.

The long night had arrived.


It's still under construction, but hopefully you'll like it xD

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