It becomes something of a routine for Callisto to join Penelope during her baths. These are some of their conversations.

Penelope knew she was a thorny woman, even Callisto had pointed it out more than once. How sharp her words were, the fact that she defaulted to spitting venom rather than niceties unless she wanted something. Even if she had mellowed out considerably in the years since, it didn’t change the fact that time and life had warped her from the girl that her mother had known. Both her mother in Korea and the one here in Eorka.

Still, Penelope did try her best to convey her feelings to her lover. Callisto was unashamed to tell her that he loved her, it came easy to him, after he’d gotten over the initial block from that disastrous proposal. Sometimes, Penelope was able to say it, but never in the large grandiose way Callisto would. It was always in private. As the years passed, it became easier to tell him, though rarely in public.

Stolen moments in corridors or in the gardens. A visit to his office while she brought tea and snacks just to remind him to take a break. Surprising him by coming home early or staying longer.

Callisto gave her a lot and it always felt disproportionate. Penelope had nothing but the money she got from the mines he and the Duke had gifted her and the salary of an archaeologist. That salary… she knew it was only so large because Callisto stepped in and interfered despite her protests.

Penelope always felt as though she brought nothing to the relationship. Yes, she stayed. And while she told Callisto, it was a calculated thing, being unable to part with her money. They both knew it was a lie. Penelope could have easily returned to her old body, the fang would have healed her broken and frail form and made it anew; she could have returned to her studies in Korea and made up with her family there. She could have lived that life of luxury by playing into the feelings of guilt that Siyeon’s family had. But there was one thing she couldn’t have there.

Callisto.

She had stayed for him. Only for him. She had known about her feelings, vague as they were, from the time of his first proposal. When she rejected him in the greenhouse, she had torn him apart with her words, it was done not just because she was so tired, but also because she wanted him to feel the pain she was going through. Wanted him to feel the hurt he’d caused her at his inability to love her and for the sheer audacity to propose a marriage of convenience to a girl who had suffered through an adoption of means.

When she drank that poison, she had chosen it as her escape, yes, but also because she didn’t want to witness him falling in love with Yvonne. Penelope said she feared death but if she truly did, she wouldn’t have drank that lethal wine. She would have sneaked away in the dead of the night, used up the scroll with nothing but her jewels to pawn off.

She could have escaped and hidden herself away in plain sight.

But even is she did that, she would still hear about it. Hear about the beautiful imperial wedding and the marriage of the Imperial Prince and the Ducal Princess. So she made the decision, born out of sheer exhaustion and heart ache, she chose death.

But He stopped her. He stayed true. And He loved her.

He tended to her when she was on what was practically her death bed. Begged her to remain at his side. Promised her the world when in truth all she wanted was love.

So she made a different choice than the one she’d been working towards. She chose him.

Sometimes though, sometimes it didn’t feel like it was enough. She made him cakes for his birthdays, planned banquets on his behalf, bore some of the work that he’d tried to shelter her from, the work that the Empress should be doing, reassured him of her love in the privacy of their room, and reached for him at every moment possible.

It wasn’t enough. Not to her. Not for everything. But she felt as though Callisto had other ideas.

-

-

In the weeks leading up to the wedding, Penelope had fully moved in to the palace to the Emperor’s delight. He sought her out at all hours of the waking day (her waking day, not his), would walk into her office just to see her or to reach for her stomach, patting it affectionately before asking after her health (did he think it would change in the hour it was gone?), and commenting on the state of her duties (apparently, she was doing too much).

In a reversal of roles, the Emperor would come in and whisk her away to meals, often watching happily as she indulged herself in the foods presented to her, or waving away any that turned her stomach. Sometimes she would have to prompt him to eat because he’d get so enraptured with watching her stuff her face in cream cakes and fish. An odd combination that he tried once with a straight face, the kimchi was a little better, though not by much.

And in the evenings? Penelope would start the evening off with a bath surrounded by maids that the Emperor had selected. All fully armed and fully trained. Before she retired to their bedroom and to his passionate embrace.

Tonight, Emily, who had followed her to the Palace, sat by the tub as she slathered on a mask.

“And what do we call this look, Empress?” Callisto’s amused voice could be heard from the doorway. The chorus of gasps and prompt greetings followed.

Penelope opened an eye to see the smile on his face and the mirth in his eyes. He’d never seen her in the midst of a full beauty regimen before. Baths, sure, but masks and the like? No. And if Penelope were to be honesty, she’d only just begun to like them. After living frugally for so long and refusing aid from her father, such luxuries had been unaccustomed to her.

“It’s the look called, the price of beauty.” She quipped back.

Callisto snorted. “And the price of beauty is having mud slathered all over your face?”

“Herbal mud.” She said flatly.

“Hmm… and this relaxes you?” He asked as he approached.

She nodded her head, not even bothered by the fact that he saw her in such a ridiculous state.

He turned to Emily. “How long must this stay on her face?”

“No more than fifteen minutes, Your Majesty.” Emily answered back demurely.

“And how is it to be removed?”

“Warm water and a wash cloth.”

He nodded. “I understand. You may go now. Leave the materials behind.” He said as he dismissed them. “I’ll tend to my wife myself.”

There was the quiet shuffling of feet and the parting greetings of the maids before they were left alone. Large, rough, calloused hands gently began to scrub at the skin of her bare arms.

“You don’t have to do this. I can very well take a bath by myself.” She protested.

“Must you be so stubborn?” He asked with faux frustration. “I wish to care for my beloved wife, to shower her with love and to tend to all her needs.”

She caught his meaning immediately, her hands itching to pull at the golden hair that so very close to her hand. “You’re really something, aren’t you?”

“Magnificent?”

“Insatiable.” She deadpanned.

“Oh, and what about you?”

Her cheeks were thankfully buried under the mask as she remembered how they’d spent their evenings over the last few weeks.

“I don’t think you’ve had your hair pulled in awhile.”

He smirked at her. “Depends on what type of pulling you’re talking about.”

“The one where I scream at you.”

“Oh, I make you scream either way.”

That was it! She tugged on it hard, and he hissed and yelped, pleading with her to let go.

When she finally let go, she looked at him, rubbing his head. “One day, you’re going to go bald.”

“And whose fault is that going to be?”

“Yours.”

He clucked his tongue before he grabbed a clean cloth and wet it. Gently wiping her face to clear her skin of the mud mask. He nodded as he sat back, inspecting her face with a pleased grin.

He began to strip and she raised a brow.

“Move over a bit, won’t you, Love?” He asked. She rolled her eyes but did as he asked, letting him enter the bath and slide in behind her, his arms coming to wrap around her waist and his legs bracketing hers. She leaned back on his chest. Her hand went back to reach for him.

They enjoyed the silence in the bath, their breaths in sync.

“It smells good, what is it?”

“Chamomile and mint, there are a few other herbs here that the maids swear by for pregnancies.”

He kissed the top of her head. “That explains the scent you’ve had in bed recently.”

“Yes. It’s really calming.”

He began to lean back some more, his hands going to her hair as he washed it, giving her a gentle scalp massage. “I heard you had a headache today. Is it better?”

“Yes, apparently, they’re common in early pregnancy.”

He hummed, his hands withdrawing to pour some water on her head, a hand shielding her eyes as the water ran down her head.

“I can’t believe we’ll be parents in a few short months.”

“It’s surprising isn’t it?” She said with a smile on her face. “I can’t wait until this little baby arrives. Who would have thought that the two idiots who couldn’t even acknowledge their feelings for one another would end up here.”

“Hah? Who’s the idiot? I knew exactly how I felt about you.”

“Did you?” She asked. “What about your words against love during your first proposal?”

“That doesn’t count. I already knew I wanted you, just…”

She glanced at him teasingly. “Just?”

“I was just scared.”

A thrill ran down her spine at his words. The fact that he was so honest about his feelings towards her, that he allowed himself to be vulnerable towards her, that he trusted her enough to let himself be weak with her fully trusting that she’d never use that against him.

She shifted with his help so that she was sitting astride and facing him, their bare chests touching. “And you don’t think I wasn’t just as terrified?”

“What did you have to be scared of, Empress? From where I stood, it seemed like you held all the cards.” One hand was on her back, keeping her steady.

She bit her lip and averted her eyes before she grabbed the cloth and began to reciprocate his own care from earlier. “My position within the family was tenuous at best and I knew Yvonne was returning soon. You made it seem that all you wanted was the Eckart name and at the time… I thought I would be losing it soon.”

He was silent, no doubt remembering their fight in the greenhouse.

“And beauty fades. What’ll happen in twenty years when I no longer look like the pretty young girl you married?”

The arm she’d been scrubbing moved away gently and he used his hand to caress her face. “That’s a stupid thing to be worried about. When you’re no longer the girl I married, then you’ll be the woman I’ve spent the last 20 years loving and building a family with.”

“Even if I grow into a fat and dowdy matron?”

“Even then. No, especially then. If you’re a dowdy matron then so will the rest of the noble ladies since they follow the Empress’ styles. And fat? There’ll just be more of you to love. It means that you’ve been eating well and it’ll erase the image of you when you were so thin in the days before and especially after your coming of age.”

Her heart felt so full with this man that often frustrated her. “In twenty years time, you’ll either be grey or bald. Though I hope not fat.”

“Oh, so you’re allowed to grow fat but I’m not?” He asked with a laugh.

She glanced him over. “Well, I’ll miss this body.”

“You’re unbelievable.” He was still laughing, the movements shook her and the water. “Let’s just agree to grow fat together.”

“Fine. But not until at least twenty years.” Penelope discarded the cloth and threw her arms around him, sitting up and leaning towards him. “I love you, Callisto Regulus.”

“I love you, Penelope Regulus.” He said, his voice obviously relishing the change in her name. Then he drew her into a kiss, his hands wandering.

-

-

Baths together became something of a routine for them with Callisto joining her more often than not as he made sure to finish his work as soon as he could to join her. The maids had learned to leave as soon as he entered with Emily sometimes staying slightly longer to relay whatever still needed to be done, or what they’d done differently today. As a result, Callisto now knew more about her beauty regimen than she did.

He knew what exactly was in the baths that the maids prepared, could tell by its smell, knew the mixtures for the oils and lotions on her skin. He had even, just once so far, prepared the bath himself. It had been at the tail end of a particularly trying day where the hormones had wreaked havoc on her and left her a crying mess more than once. By the time the evening came, she had walked in for her usual bath to find her husband standing beside the tub, the floor a mess that he’d tried to clean up and with him leading her gently across the wet floor.

She had forgotten all about the shitty day in that moment and made sure to show her appreciation for all his efforts by rewarding him greatly.

-

-

The nobles weren’t complete morons. They were still able to do simple arithmetics. And they did. As soon as she began showing (early in the marriage), they realized that she had conceived before the wedding and most likely before the wedding preparations began if the haste was anything to go by. The fact that she had often been away from Callisto during that time as she worked on the archeological sites had them gossiping notoriously.

None of them were good. It tended towards them questioning and implying that the child wasn’t Callisto’s. That she’d somehow tricked him and cuckolded him with another man’s child. It wasn’t the truth and she knew that, so did Callisto. And that was what was important.

Cedric wanted to get ahead of the rumours but she’d been content to let it pass and had asked him to do his best not to let Callisto know about the rumours. There was no need for such bloodshed. Cedric had advised her against it but she had waved it off.

She knew such rumours would cause harm if left unattended but she had a feeling that this child would prove them wrong somehow. That sense that there was something… more… about this child. Her mind remembered the vision from the cave when she’d been given a choice just before Callisto had been able to resuscitate her.

One night, Callisto had walked into the bath upset. His face set into one of absolute fury that had the maids scurrying away. Her husband dropped to sit beside her.

“What’s wrong?” She asked as she reached for him. He grasped her wet hand tightly, not enough to hurt, but firm enough that she knew this was serious.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the rumours? Why didn’t you want me to find out?” He demanded.

Ahh. He now knew, she wasn’t surprised that he found out. It was only a matter of time since secrets couldn’t be kept at court.

“It didn’t matter.”

“Didn’t matter? They’ve been slandering you, the Empress!”

She was quiet. “I know. But their words don’t matter.”

“How can it not matter? Penelope, they’re questioning your integrity and our child’s paternity!”

She sighed and pulled him close, neither of them cared that his clothes were getting wet.

“Do you remember the night we found out I was expecting, the cave?”

“I remember we were pursued by a monster and then proceeded to give me a scare by falling down a hole and drowning.” He replied tartly. “I thought I lost you as I worked to restore your breathing.”

She smiled at him. “I’m sorry about that.” She was, she knew how terrified he was at all times that she would get hurt or disappear or die. “Anyway, I had a…a…vision.”

“A vision?”

“I was given a choice between a medical apparatus found in the other world and a golden egg.” She told him. “The choice between returning to the other world or a child. But not just any child, not just a baby but a dragon.”

“And you’re just trusting this vision?” He asked dubiously as he pulled away. Penelope shifted and began to unbutton his clothing.

She nodded. “Yes, because I know that when this child is born, I know that no one will doubt their paternity.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I know. You don’t have to like it.”

“I want to kill them for their impudence.”

“But you won’t.”

“But I won’t.” He repeated as a promise. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to punish them in some way.”

She smiled at him and motioned him to join her. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Darling.”

-

-

“Sometimes, I’m surprised by how absolutely obtuse you can be.” Callisto said gruffly from where she was just finishing scrubbing his back.

“How so?” She asked as she tapped him to motion that it was time to turn around. The two of them repositioned themselves so that he could reciprocate. The tub was new, far bigger than the previous one. Callisto had it replaced as her womb swelled and the little one made mobility in the already luxurious tub, nearly impossible. So one day, she’d walked in and it was replaced.

“You don’t even know how many people appreciate your work, you’re oblivious to how loved you are as an Empress, and how much you’ve achieved in such a short time.”

“That’s because you do most of the work. You took away half of my already light workload.” She pointed out.

He shook his head, tilting it and making her turn her own head so that they could see each other’s faces. “No. The ones that I took off your plate are the more irrelevant things, banquets and balls. I left the important ones to you. And you’ve done a marvellous work. The commoners absolutely adore you, Penelope. They love all the programs you’ve started for them, your charity works, how you never shy away from them.” He began. “The nobles are impressed with your efficiency and level headed personality, the fact that you chose to pursue higher education than what most ladies would usually achieve, you’ve made it fashionable to become something more than just a vapid doll on display for their fathers and husbands.”

“As the Emperor, I’m grateful that you chose to become my Empress and to take on the burden of becoming this Empire’s Moon and Mother.” He had now finished and he helped her sit on his lap. “As your lover and husband, I’m glad that you chose me. That you chose to stay here and build a life with me. That you’re gifting me with our child.”

It was somehow reminiscent to the words she’d said a few days ago when their little baby had first begun to move within her.

“And I’m sure our baby thinks the same. I’m infinitely blessed to have you as my wife, my partner, and my lover.” He kissed her. “And our child is lucky to have you as their mother.”

“Just like their lucky to have you as their father.” She told him. “So don’t doubt yourself either.”

They smiled at one another before Callisto motioned for her to stand up. His hand reaching for a towel as he got out of the tub and helped her out, drying her completely and carrying her to bed.

I’ve always had this idea that Penelope would have some small insecurity because she doesn’t have anything to give to Callisto to reciprocate how much he gives her. He’s the Emperor who has everything. What can she give him. Meanwhile, Callisto is trying to give Penelope everything because he’s just so happy that she gave herself to him. She chose to stay in this world and chose to marry him. I also had this idea that the nobles would have undoubtedly talked about the fact that she had gotten pregnant during the time when she was ‘unsupervised’ and that the child could potentially not be Callisto’s. The couple and those closest know that he is. And that she was anything but unsupervised, with all the guards and mages that were watching her at all hours of the day, reporting to Callisto regularly. I don’t know, this just came to me so I decided to sit down and write it tonight.

The first chapter of Magic and Dragon blood is up.

I’m so sleep deprived but I can’t stop the storm of ideas.

The dragon’s blood flows through the Regulus family, the little sparks of mana and magic is there, waiting for a trigger to awaken it. Magic is sentient and moves through a lover’s touch. When brought together, it triggers a transformation within the blood of the dragon.

The conditions are fulfilled for the first time since the Second Emperor’s reign.

Or the two lovebirds couldn’t keep their hands to themselves during the hunting festival and Penelope ends up transferring some of her mana to him and she ends up pregnant with our baby Judy. When she gets upset during Callisto’s birthday, our lovely Prince turns into a dragon for her and changes the course of the story.

Penelope had lived her life in relative Peace (if one could call the constant monster attacks as peace) within the Dukedom of Heylon as the Archmage to her friend Abel Heylon. Though they consider themselves to be nothing but friends, many believe them to be lovers to their constant dismay. It’s something the children (though Siegren and Fiona were only a handful of years younger than she), always tease them off even if they know the truth. Penelope knows that her friend thinks of the children the way she does, that they are family and they are theirs to protect. It also helps that they’re all quite fond and protective of her baby Judy. One day, the Emperor of Eorka arrives and shatters that peace, upending the happy life she and her daughter had lived so far.

“Are you still planning on going to the Capital?” Penelope asked the young woman in front of her. She was only a handful of years younger than Penelope but she had raised this child as something of a cross between a sister and daughter. Fiona has grown so much into a wonderful and sweet young woman, confident in her abilities and in her place in the world.

“Yes, I need to do this for myself.” Fiona responded with a smile as she held the letter in her hands. “They’ve looked down on me for so long, for things I could never control. It’s time they’re served their comeuppance the Heylon way, just as you and Abel have taught me.”

Yes, they did teach her that. This girl who had been desperate for a shred of kindness had almost been turned away by Abel until she had stepped forward and offered to mentor her and teach her to use the immense magic that ran so strongly within her body. In order to convince Abel though, she had been forced to take Fiona to the ramparts and given her one quick lesson on magic and had her unleash a torrent of lightning upon the monsters.

That had been all it took for Fiona to be inducted into the Duchy. And then Siegren had arrived not too long afterwards and those two had become inseparable.

“You’ll be missed here, Judy will ask after her big sister all the time.” She said with a quirk of her lips. Her baby grew in the shelter and safety of the Duchy’s wall, hidden away from the world. It had been a deal she had given the Duke of Heylon, the magic of the last of the ancient mages in exchange for a new life. Outside of their little family of outcasts, only the closest servants and soldiers knew that she was Penelope Eckart the spurned and hunted former lover of the Emperor of Eorka. To everyone else, she was Thea Beckett, the Archmage.

“I’ll miss her too.” There was a sad smile on Fiona’s pretty face.

Penelope sighed. “I’m not going to stop you, I, more than anyone, know what it means to be looked down upon and to need that sort of revenge. But… you’ll have to tell Siegren before you leave, well, there’s still a few months anyway.”

She saw Fiona bite her lip. She could understand, Penelope had once had someone she cared for greatly, in the same way Fiona had. But unlike Fiona, her own love had turned against her and left her pregnant, injured, and on the run with only her loyal maid to count on. They had traversed to another continent, her hair cut short and dyed and had met the Duke of Heylon in the Capital by happenstance on his last trip to the Capital.

In a stroke of brilliance, Penelope had identified herself, making a bet that this man would care more about her abilities and usefulness as a mage than about her past and the warrants of arrest and execution from a foreign empire. And her bet had been successful. They had become fast friends even if he was her employer, though neither of them could ever fathom where the rumours of them being lovers had come from.

When the voices of her ancestors had been too much to ignore and with Fiona here, she had kissed Judy goodbye and asked Abel to take care of both girls before she left the anonymity and comforts of the Duchy and returned to an Eorka in flames with Emily in tow.

They had arrived in time to save Aerith and her family before she dealt with Leila, witnesses aplenty. And without even bothering to see anyone else from her past, she let Emily take her staggering and ill body away using the last of the teleportation scrolls. And since then, Penelope had refused to even take a step out of Heylon territory.

Though she knew that her time as Thea Beckett may soon be coming to an end. When Sam had left, under her prompting and support, she hadn’t known just how talented of an artist he was, not until he had left her a painting of her with the girls. Sam had been one of her favourite merchants in the Duchy but he was meant for so much more and she could see that. She had given him quite a sum, investing in his business and helping him start a merchants guild and trading company as his business partner.

When she had seen the painting, she knew that it was only a matter of time before she was discovered. And even if Sam was her friend and she trusted him not to rat her out, it was highly likely that he would slip up.

And she was right.

-

-

Cedric was inspecting one of the guilds and looking over the imports and other documentations that would be needed if they were going to use them as an official supplier within the Imperial Palace when he saw it.

Sketches in a bound notebook, small water coloured images of a beautiful magenta haired woman with turquoise eyes. There were a few other people there. He recognized the freckled brown haired maid, but not the silver haired red eyed girl, or the dark haired boy.

“Oh!” The Merchant, Sam, who co-owned the guild with a silent partner had exclaimed. The man was a foreigner and was thus treated with more scrutiny. “I’m sorry, I meant to put my sketchbook away.”

“Are these your works?”

He smiled sheepishly. “They are. These were my friends in Heilon.”

“Heylon?” Yes, he remembered this was a man from the monster infested Heylon territory. Then that meant that was where Lady Penelope had been hiding all these years.

“Yes, my hometown. Miss Thea…” He began as he flipped to the portrait of Penelope Eckart. “Was my favourite customer. She’s the Archmage of Heylon and the rumoured lover of the Duke of Heylon.”

Well… His Majesty wouldn’t be pleased with the last part but he would be happy to know where she was.

“How much for the sketchbook?” He asked as he took out the Imperial check book. The treasurer and coin counters will no doubt rail at him after this but the Emperor would be able to silence them.

“You want to buy my sketchbook?” He asked blankly. His tone flat.

Cedric nodded. “Yes, well, you’re a good artist. I think you have potential and I’d like to show this to the Emperor as well… and Miss Thea looks quite beautiful…” He trailed off awkwardly.

The Merchant was nodding along. “Yes, many a man often fall for Miss Thea at first sight but the Duke has always been overprotective of her.”

“So, will you let me buy it?”

“Are you serious?” He asked. “Because it’s just a small hobby of mine.”

“Yes, yes.” He said calmly, trying not to show how eager he was.

The man was quiet for a moment before he agreed and named an exorbitant price. The mark of a great merchant. He allowed himself to be swindled that day all for the sake of a vacation… err… to calm the Emperor’s mind and heart.

-

-

Cedric submitted his vacation forms in person during a meeting between the Emperor and the Eckarts, the Marquis Verdandi was there as a witness as well.

“Is this really the time, Porter?” The Emperor asked.

He nodded. “Yes. Please sign or I’ll quit.”

“What makes you think I’ll accept your resignation?”

“I’ll run away and leave you to be buried under a mountain of paperwork.” He told the man in a deadpan. “I dare you.”

“I can just detain you.”

“I won’t sign or sort a single paper.” He threatened.

“No vacation.”

Cedric grinned sadistically. “Then I won’t give you the information I have on Lady Penelope’s whereabouts.”

That had them all sitting up tall and alert. “There’s been some news? It isn’t in the reports.”

“Because I only came across it an hour ago, and by mere happenstance not from search teams or investigators.” He said. Then he sighed. “But it seems you don’t care to find out.”

The vacation form was immediately signed and approved. He inwardly cheered.

“Now, the information.” The Emperor demanded.

He brought out the sketchbook. “She’s in Heylon as the Duke’s Archmage.”

The Emperor flipped through the sketchbook immediately, hands tracing the lines of the sketches and delicately caressing the paint on the ones that had it. “She goes by Miss Thea Beckett now… and…” He hesitated. “There are rumours that she is now the Duke’s lover.”

The hand that was on the table raised slightly before he slammed it down again and caused the table to break under the sheer strength.

“Prepare an envoy. I wish to see the demons of Heylon myself.” He said coldly as he stood and walked away.

Cedric nodded, his hands clutching the precious piece of paper in front of him. His promised vacation had finally come! He couldn’t stop the tears from falling from his eyes.

-

-

“You’re very good with her.” She said as she came to where her friend stood by the window, Judith carried in his arms as he stared at Siegren and Fiona from afar. The golden curls falling down her back helped to cover the golden wings. Her daughter slept soundly in the arms of the Duke of Heylon, a man she believed was her uncle and the closest thing she had to a father. Was her father in every way that mattered anyway. The same way he was the only father both Siegren and Fiona would ever truly know and the only one who deserved that title in their lives, even if they would never acknowledge it.

“She burst into my office again.” He said grumpily.

She grinned. “But you didn’t send her away this time either.” She patted the sleeping child. “And I bet you plied her with sweets while having her sit still on your lap and teaching her to read from the reports and teaching her numeracy skills on top of that.”

He didn’t answer but he turned away with a smile. “She’ll need it when she grows.”

“That she will.”

“… I intend to name Fiona my heir.” That wasn’t surprising. “She deserves it. She would be a great ruler for Heylon. Especially with Siegren by her side to rein her in when she got a bit too much and got weird ideas.”

“You’re one to talk about weird ideas.” He snorted. “You’re not offended I didn’t name Judith?”

She shook her head. Judith was far too young for that and besides… “Becoming the Duke of Heylon would almost certainly reveal her identity. I want her to have her freedom.”

Keeping Judith safe from the clutches of those terrible people from Eorka was her main priority.

She refocused her attention on the not-couple down below who were speaking happily, laughter springing free from the two. "Do you think she'll return?"

"I've already made plans to ensure it." Abel told her as he gestured to his desk.

She picked up the papers and read it curiously, a smile of amusement took its place on her face. "You're going to have her go through all the finances of Heylon's residence in the Capital? And you've enlisted your old Nanny into enacting this plan? You truly are efficient and cruel."

"If it will get that child back here where she belongs, then yes, I will." Abel said. She nodded. She knew that Abel saw Fiona as his daughter, cared about her in such a way, the same way he cared about Judith. And he was quite fond of Siegren too. That was why he was working hard to ensure that their family would remain intact. She wouldn't be surprised if the two men followed Fiona to the Capital eventually.

She didn't mind, even if she would be left with a despondent little girl later on. She could manage Heylon while they were gone. And she would make sure her family would have a warm home to return to when the time came. But if Fiona found happiness elsewhere… she would do her best to convince the men to let her be, even if she doubted she would be successful.

I don’t know whether or not this will ever be fleshed out since I have so many projects but it was an interesting concept that came to me a few hours ago. I also don’t know if I want to keep this as Cha Siyeon or OG Penelope, and whether the Fiona here is OG Fiona or the Author Fiona, though I’m leaning more towards OG Fiona. Anyway, this post brings about the end of my five hour writing sprint which consists of a. The maid’s revenge, b. Of poison and dragons, c. This poisoned cup, and d. This lovely little post. Yes, I’m in my angst mood right now.

reblog the money pigeon for a financially stable future

I reblog  the money pigeon because I love him.

Reblogging the money pigeon because why the hell not?

(laughter) That. :)

Into The Spider-Verse: Spider-Gwen (Edge of Spider-Verse #2)

Hello all you happy true beliviers! We're back into the spider-verse just in time for national women's month and the third of our main trio of spiders: Gwen Stacey, the spectacular Spider-Woman, referred often to as Spider-Gwen to disguish her from the various earth 616 spider-women before she was rebranded Ghost Spider.

Yeah Spider-Gwen is a lot to unpack, so let's take it from the stop. Spider-Gwen is a variant of Gwen Stacey, who you may remember from some adaptions as the Amazing Spider-Man films, being peter's prop for that hilarious dance number in spider-man 3 that's in my eyes even more rediculous than his saturday night fever schtick, and from cartoons appearing as an updated version of her classic self in Specatcular Spider-Man and as Spider-Gwen in Ultimate Spidey, Marvel's Spider-Man, Spidey and HIs Amazing Friend and Marvel Rising.

For those less familiar with the comics, Gwen Stacey was peter's very second love intrest. Gwen was introduced late into Steve Ditko's run as one of the mileu of jackasses constantly taunting peter parker, this time as he entered college. As seen with Amazing Fantasy at the time peter was a loner Dottie, a rebel, who was mostly picked on. He had one girlfriend briefly, Betty Brant, but after her brother died she became paranoid about him taking pictures of spider-man, blaming spider-man for his death and worrying he'd lead to Peter's. So really.. Aunt may was all peter had for the first 30 or so issues.

Once Ditko left though Lee decided to shake things up as peter had entered college. Since new Artist John Romita drew characters a bit more handsomely, he decided to expand peter's friend group: Harry Osborn, who picked on him previously, decided he had it wrong about peter and genuinely tried to befriend the guy, serving as a nice contrast to the various assholes. It also made sense: people who are withdrawn or feel trapped in the high school hiearchy can often find friends easier in College, where people may be open to trying new thems or not bogged down by history. Granted Peter also had flash there as a rival , Lee coudln't take all his pain away or he woudln't be peter, but he now had a friend.. and soon had love intrests.

Peter soon ended up in a brief archie style love triangle between Mary Jane Watson, at the time a viacious party animal who'd been oft hinted at in a running gag where May tried to set them up and Peter assumed "nice girl" meant

Which has aged like fine egg left on a sidewalk for 9 days. This is where Gwen came in. Gwen like harry realized she might of misjudged peter especially after finding out he snubbed her and harry at first because Aunt May was sick, as part of the legendary "If This Be My Destiny" three parter. The two dated for a long time and she was a fan faviorite with many of a fan, some who'd get promoted to managment, preferring her over MJ. The thing was in the original comics.. Gwen was pretty one note. She was just "nice" and "love intrest". See while stan lee was good at MANY things, creative worlds, working with great artists, showmanship, coming up with brilliant premises for characters… he was absolutely awful at writing women , at least during the silver age. Most of his women's main trait's were "love intrest" or "girl" or "getting overly emotoinal". Their powers were often limited as was their influence, with sue storm ONLY being able to turn invsible at first before gaining her forcefields, and Jean Grey's telekensis being very limited. While Janet Van Dyne got better with her stings and stuff, she was often depicted as flighty. Gwen is , as you can see, far from his worst but is just kinda there to be the "good girl" in contrast to mj at first, then to just cause friction with peter whenever his double identity impcats their romance. She was a plot device, not a person.

She kept on like this till a new writer jumped on board Gerry Conway. Conway had decided someone needed to die as it'd been a while since uncle Ben and while George Stacey, gwen's dad, had in the line of duty, he wasn't close to peter and was mainly killed to drive a wedge betwen him and Gwen. So he ended up deciding on Gwen to both motivate the poor boy and to clear up the cast a bit. So Gwen became famous.. for her death, the legendary "The night gwen stacey died" which I showed the utmost respect and reverence to in my amazing fantasy #15 review

The story is incredibly well crafted though, and the art is gorgeous. It's only weakness.. is being a MASSIVE example of Women in Refregirators syndrome, with Gwen being killed to motivate peter and not having any real agency in her death. Said death at least would haunt peter for the rest of his career and still comes up on occasion. There were clones, terrible retcons not worth mentoining and other things involving gwen, but she remained dead and still is…. in the 616.

Thankfully marvel had a merry multiverse and Dan Slott had plans to explore that in an upcoming event comic Spider-Verse, which while sharing a name and vauge premise of uniting a bunch of spider people with the movie, is nothing like it and involves the spider-person hutning inheretors. I have not read it as it was at a time when Dan Slott's run on the book took a massive dive, so I can't really speak for it's quality. But good event or no it did give us a lot of great new spider-people to go with established variants like Spider-Ham, Spider-Man 2099 and Spider-Man Noir, and Gwen was one of them.

Gwen was an editor's suggestion and a brilliant one: Take the biggest victim in spider-man history , and make HER the one who gets bit by the spider. All Dan Slott really had was the idea to give her a trench coat costume and the red and blues, but the actual making of her went to Jason Latour.

For context as I found out in my research… Jason Latour is a sexually harassing creep. At 2017's Thought Bubble fest, he followed around artist Lauren Tracey who at the time was in her early 20's to his 40's just to add to it, and stalked her, then kissed her against her will. After Tracey revealed the allegations, Latour tried to claim he didn't remember the incident.. only for tons of others to come forward and reveal he was also creepy twoards them or friend sof theres. They likely knew.. but didn't have the power to come forward. Latour weakly apologized and hasn't worked for Marvel since. It was deeply disapointing to find out someone I respected… was an ashole who used his power to harass women, make them feel deeply uncomfortable and affect their careers. He was one of MANY in the industry who did this and I doubt he'll be the last I talk about but it's super depressing he used his power like this and he can promptly fuck himself.

I won't be letting this affect my judgement of the comic itself. It's hard and i'll likely look like this the whole itme i'm typing this

But I have to judge the issue by it's own merits, while still stressing the creator isn't to be worshipped. It's a good object lesson to remember that terrible people can make good art. I try to avoid covering that art to glorify them. It's why despite being a massive x-men fan and having grown up with the story you likely wont' see Joss Whedon's Astonishing X-Men covered on here unless someone comissions it. Like this it's an important part of comics history and can't just be.. forgotten, but the creator shouldn't be on any sort of pedestal for it unless he truly and completely has repented for what he's done and even then what he's done shoudln't be forgotten in the process.

Now getting into Prailne's and Dick's creative process, Pralines and Dick decided to really swing for the fences. This was an alternate universe.. so he decided to make it really alternate. Instead of a cheery if often weepy coed, Gwen was a troubled college freshman who was reseved and steady out of costume and freer in it.. at a terrible cost. He and Rodregiuz gave her a hood to symbolize the weight she carries and acccents of purple and blue to really help the costume pop against the white, while also giving her the mask to keep up the "anyone can wear the mask" motif from Peter and Miles.

The result wasn't a hit with Dan But he ended up eating his words and fully agreeing they made the right call. The result was an INSTANT hit from her first apperance and quickly got an ongoing. I MIGHT talk about it in the future, it's tricky with Pralines and Dick being the writer. For now though let's go under the cut and into the spider-verse as we explore the startling origin of Spider-Gwen.

please watch Hellsing Abridged with captions

Spider-Gwen Vol 2 #3

Of course I'm on Miles side. I've been reading AU my entire life, the Canon is my natural enemy.

Thank you evil dead rise for giving me ideas❤️

He either went back or sneak it into his pocket.

(i forgot this in my drafts :) )

i'm getting this vibes

The case of the time travelling Prince

When Judith overhears a story about her father’s childhood, her heart bleeds and her well meaning wish to help her father through his childhood comes true when her father appears before her as a child. Callisto has just come from his mother’s funeral, heartbroken and feeling so alone when he finds himself face to face with a girl who could be his twin who insisted that he was her father.

Judith listened in from behind the tree as her mother and the head maid spoke. The Baroness told Mama a story about her Papa's childhood that had her biting her lip.

From what she could understand, through all the experience she had from her five years of life, her Papa had a hard and lonely childhood. She didn't find that fair, and her heart ached for her poor Papa. Judy and her sister enjoy happy, loving, and safe lives, so why couldn't he have had that?

Judith sighed as she stalked off, her red dress fluttering about as the nannies trailed her. She walked deeper and deeper into the maze, her magic sparking with every move she made as the torrent of emotions engulfed her. The more she thought about it, the more upset she got, and the more magic discharged.

Soon enough, the whole area was filled with ambient magic, and that was when she made her wish.

"I wish I could help Papa when he was younger and make things alright for him." She wished it with all her heart, the sincerity of her wish bled into her magic.

A brilliant flash of light erupted around her and her father's familiar and comforting scent reached her. She relaxed immediately because her Papa was here and she was safe.

-

-

Callisto was six when his mother suddenly fell ill. She was gone within weeks and he was cast adrift. His father's attention had long ceased to fall upon him. Now he found himself all alone in the world.

He stared at his mother's coffin with an empty sort of numbness that he couldn't quite understand, but it wasn't until he had returned to his room that the tears fell.

The whispers among the 'mourners' had spoken of his father's absence and brief appearance at the funeral of his late wife. He found comfort in nothing but his Nanny. The Baroness stood by his side even as she was cautious and hesitant to touch him. His mother's family stood grim to the side, a look of displeasure and apathy on their faces and they offered him no comfort besides the insincere condolences and reminders of their shared blood. The ones that were closest to his mother among her family were not in attendance since they stood as the vanguards and stalwart defenders of the empire and were unable to make it.

Callisto valiantly tried to stem the tears that continued to flow when he suddenly felt a shift in the air and he found himself on the ground. He looked up in confusion to see a little girl who could be his twin staring back at him.

"Uh oh." The girl said. "I turned Papa small. Mama's going to be so mad."

Callisto stared at the girl in confusion. "Who are you? Are you my sister?"

"Papa doesn't remember me?" She gasped. "Papa, it's Judy."

"Don't call me Papa." He scowled as he stood up. "Because I'm not your father. In fact, I'm too young. I might be older than you but I'm not an old man yet."

"But you are Papa." Judy insisted as she stepped closer and started sniffing him. "You smell just like Papa. And your name is Callisto, right?"

"Yes, my name is Callisto but I can't be your Papa because I'm not old." He argued back.

"No, but if you are Callisto, then you're Papa." The girl said as though that was the most logical thing.

Callisto sighed in irritation. The girl suddenly grabbed his hand and began to drag him.

"Where are we going?"

"To Mama, she'll know what to do. And Papa said he would always recognize Mama."

Callisto heard all of the gossip going around as the servants froze at the sight of them. From a distance, Callisto could hear the sounds of a baby's gurgle and the soft, warm voice of a woman soothing the babe.

As they broke free from the maze, he spotted a magenta-haired woman bedecked in jewels and silks. There was a crown on her head that was so different from the one that had once laid on top of his mother's head.

"Mama, I brought Papa! But Judy did something bad." Judy said as she happily skipped along to the woman.

"Papa's in a meeting with Sir Porter, Judy." The woman reminded her. "Besides, what do you mean you did something bad?"

Then the woman turned, the baby in her arms fell silent as the woman froze upon seeing him.

"Judy, what did you do?" She demanded in shock.

Judy laughed awkwardly. "I don't know."

"Callisto?" The woman called hesitantly.

He bristled. "It's Prince Callisto or Your Highness." He reminded them curtly.

Then there was the sound of metal hitting the ground and glass shattering. They all turned to see an old, stately maid who stared at him as though she had seen a ghost.

"Your Highness?" The old woman gasped.

And he knew that voice, though it had far less of the rasp that came with age when he had heard it just an hour previously. And now that he had thought that, he suddenly found that he knew who this was. Older but still very much the same woman. It was his nanny. And his stomach began to feel queasy at the terrifying thought that he wasn’t at the time he was supposed to be in.

Basically, this is a little snippet of fic idea about Callisto time travelling at various moments of his life, particularly the darkest moments and befriending his future daughter and being comforted by his future wife. By the time he meets Penelope, he’ll already be pretty much in love with her. Also, this is just one of the time travelling fic ideas I have. The time series actually grew by about two (maybe three if I really want to angst it up) because of one time travelling fic.

If Leila remembered the previous cycles of life, then it is likely that the original Penelope also remembered everything. It turns out that she asked the family for expensive jewelry and dresses was not at all a whim. Could she also have planned an escape and tried to use these jewels to escape from the duchy? In the chapter where the Duke discusses Penelope's birthday gift, we are shown the opinion of Derrick and the family that Penelope should not be given money, but it is possible to give the jewelry she asked for. Is it possible that the original Penelope did the same as Siyeon?

He wants more kisses.

We want this too, my dear.

“When I accidentally almost give a fuck, but then I remember who raised me.”

—Judith Regulus

Time of the Hidden Dragon

Snippets from my AU of the second half of Time and Regret where Callisto never went to the Roan Kingdom and never met Judy. Now he meets Marchioness Judith Henituse-Thames, Penelope’s sixteen year old daughter (in reality she’s eighteen but she’s in disguise so shh… she doesn’t want anyone to find out). This one is already about half the length of Time and Regret. And it’s part of the planned Time series. Also for @touya-r who wants to see the Adult Judith and Callisto reaction.

A little note: Anything in italics is in their dreamscape.

He had been retired by then and had tended to the greenhouse from time to time but not to the extent he had been doing since then. “Are you just going to stare at me?” His father asked as finally looked up at him, garden sheers in his hand.

“Why don’t you go to the welcoming ball with us?” He offered, his father had withdrawn from society after the news arrived and nothing roused him anymore. The only place he went to now was to the family cemetery where they had erected memorials for Yvonne and Penelope.

“Why would I do such a bothersome thing as that?” His father turned away, already done with the conversation. He knew that his father would answer that way but he felt like this wasn’t something he would want to miss.

“Father.” He called out again. “She’ll be there.”

His Father turned back to him. “Who is this ‘she’ you’re speaking of? Are you or Derrick finally getting married? If so, then I’ll consider going to meet my new daughter-in-law.” He was testy and impatient, his father had brought up the topic of marriage a few times and that wasn’t an argument he wanted to happen right now.

“No. Penelope’s daughter, Marchioness Judith Henituse-Thames will be coming in person to receive the award for her mother along with her Aunt, Lady Lily Henituse and a few other nobles.”

“Oh.” Her father breathed out. He stood up immediately. “When did you find out?”

“This morning. The Roan Ambassador sent over the list of delegates and the ladies of Henituse were at the top of it. The Emperor pushed Princess Alissa to prepare the finest rooms when he heard the news. There are talks that he’s reopened the Emerald Palace for the delegation.”

-

-

Judith stared blankly at Prince John Regulus, he was, by everyone’s acknowledgement, the first in line to the throne after the Emperor Callisto Regulus. A boy of dragon blood that he had brought in after swearing never to wed or father a child. Well… he kept one vow but failed epically on the other before it had even been made. She forced herself to smile at the man that was greeting them.

She wouldn’t meet the Emperor until the ball tomorrow night. She checked that the bracelet was still on, her mother’s last gift to her while she still breathed was a magic bracelet that changed the colour of her hair and eyes, as well as binding her wings so that she wouldn’t have to expend the energy and magic to hide it away. The artifact was made by a combination between of the magic of the ancient mages and dragon magic which meant it was undetectable by regular mages.

She stared at the beautiful flowers in the garden that led to the high hedges of the garden maze that her mother had once spoken of. “It’s a beautiful garden.” She praised.

“Thank you, Marchioness.” Prince John said with a happy smile. “The Emperor tends to it well.”

“The Emperor does?”

“Yes.” There was a sad smile on his face. “Every morning he would go and tend to the flowers, of course there are gardeners that does quite a lot of work after he leaves but he makes sure the magic that keeps these alive year round are still active and of course, he prunes them.”

Judith smiled and glanced at her aunt. The two of them had noticed that the garden was filled with her mother’s favourite flowers and chose not to think on it. The Prince led them deeper into a tour, his wife, Princess Alissa had excused herself early on as she went to see to some issues that had sprung up as they tended to do in everyday life. While their two children returned to their studies.

-

-

She gave him a smile. “Penelope.” He breathed out when he went to hug her but she held her arms out to stop him.

“Your Majesty.” It seemed even in his dream she was going to be distant with him. “There’s something I’ve wanted to do for so long.”

“Oh?” He asked happily as he leaned closer. This was more like it. He knew his dreams wouldn’t make her so cold. He closed his eyes anticipating the kiss, except what he got was a stinging slap to the face that had his head turning so fast he was surprised he wasn’t suffering from whiplash. Before he could react properly, she punched him in the gut, hard, and he doubled over.

“I’ve wanted to do that for over eighteen years.” She said sweetly. “Be grateful I’m not doing anything else to you. A kick down there wouldn’t be out of the question if you piss me off.”

“You’re still mad.” He said when he finally stood straight.

“Do I look mad?” That was a trick question right? Her eyes were blazing green hellfire and the wind that picked up her hair made it seem like coiled snakes about to strike, her mouth was set in a firm line.

All in all… “You look beautiful, like a vengeful goddess about to strike me down.” Was he turned on? Maybe, yes.

She rolled her eyes. “Your tongue still spouts the weirdest things. Are you senile now, old man?” She said, ahh, her acerbic tongue, how he had missed it’s razor sharp edge about to cut him to pieces. Though she was a lot more disrespectful now.

-

-

“I noticed you made no mention of my looks.”

She raised an elegant brow. “You and I know that you’re still easily the most handsome man in the Empire. You’d probably have been able to seduce all of the women away from their husbands if you had just kept your mouth shut and put your sword away at all times.” She paused. “Or if you stripped.”

The reference to their first night left him grinning even as his ears felt hot. He gave her a lecherous grin as he started to casually unbutton his sleep shirt.

“What are you doing?” Penelope asked obviously confused.

“Well. You said I could seduce all of the women when I stripped. Let’s test out that theory, shall we?” He approached her and she backed away slowly before she stopped, her face completely blank as she finally understood what he was saying and just as he was about to reach her, she pushed him hard and he rolled down the hill.

It didn’t hurt, just felt like soft pillows and silk sheets unlike her hits which had felt real and painful. “Really? Even in a dream?” Her tone was so disapproving and he suddenly felt as though she were about to nag him on something, or pull his hair. Thank gods baldness wasn’t something that ran in the family.

“Oh, with you? Always.”’

She gave him a look that would’ve had him six feet under before her gaze turned serious.

-

-

Reynold’s eyes were stuck on the Marchioness though. He almost felt like he had stepped back in time, her face was so much like her mother’s. He heard the sharp inhale of breath his father took as they approached the middle of the room. Her group converged around her as Sir Lupin whispered something in her ear that elicited a laugh. It wasn’t obscenely loud or anything but the quiet whispers of the crowd, especially those who had met Penelope before rang around the room and her laughter had brought her into sharper focus as they inspected the beautiful young woman in front of them and compared her to Penelope.

-

-

When it was the Marchioness’ turn, he froze as she gazed up at him and he felt as though he had been transported back in time. If he ignored her colouring and height then it was Penelope looking back at him.

“It’s an honour to be here, Your Majesty, the Great Sun of Eorka.” She greeted him.

“Welcome Marchioness, I hope you enjoy your stay here.” He said immediately. Then, the greetings done, he turned and declared the ball open. Nodded as his cousin led his wife to the dance floor to begin the first set.

His eyes remained on the Marchioness as he thought about what he had once wished for, had held it dearly in his heart throughout his relationship with Penelope, and had even whispered it to her and had received a slap in the arm for as she blushed and begged him to stop joking. But it hadn’t been a joke. Even if he had never spoken it out loud again, Callisto still dreamed of it. A little girl who looked like Penelope.

And there she was, but it wasn’t his daughter. She was a tall girl, especially for someone her age. She was sixteen at most, if he thought about the timing of it all.

-

-

Gilbert Eckart stared at Penelope’s daughter with an aching heart. She looked so much like his youngest that it hurt. But where Penelope had been guarded, her heart shattered by the constant abuse and of getting her hopes dashed repeatedly, her daughter was light and happy. The very image of a girl who had been cherished so very much.

-

-

Bringing along Emily was enough, that was also why she had said that it was okay not to have any of the dragons accompany her when they offered. Yes, she missed the companionship and mental speak that they did but they would also catch on to her plans quite easily and would try to stop her.

So what if she was risking death? Her poor mother shouldn’t have suffered and died the way she had. From the moment she had received her mother’s ring, she had seen the state of her mother’s soul and had wept in horror. It had haunted her nightmares and fuelled her resentment towards the people of Eorka, especially her father who had broken her mother’s heart and had killed her the most. If things worked out, she would fade into non-existence.

Depending on whether or not her mother chose to have her, which meant beginning a relationship with her father. Which was also dependant on when her mother remembered. She may or may not be born. If she was able to do it right, she would be able to send her mother back to just before Leila made her appearance. That should give her enough time to run away from Eorka and into their family’s loving arms. Maybe she should send Emily back as well.

-

-

“That was a good spar, Lady Judith.”

The Lady smiled at him as she picked up her sword and accepted his hand, pulling her up easily. “Thank you, though I did warn you that I wasn’t that skilled.”

“Now you’re just being modest.” Or was she, the way she looked told him she was serious. Well, he remembered the way Choi Han had cut a bloody path during that final battle, the way the Molans tore through the ranks of monster and mage alike and realized she had been surrounded by strong people all her life.

In her eyes she was weak but when scaled to normal people, she had surpassed many normal humans. Especially since she was only fifteen or sixteen years old.

“I’m honest about my assessment so listen to me now, don’t compare yourself to the legends you grew up surrounded by. You’re already far above what the majority of humans are capable of. And you’d likely be a sword master by the time you turn twenty.”

“You think so?” She asked, eyes looking at him both hopeful and shy.

He felt himself smile though he didn’t know what it looked like. “I know so.”

-

-

“Did you have a good childhood?” He asked, it seemed as though she did but he wanted to know. Didn’t understand why it mattered so much to him that she did.

“The best kind.” She answered sincerely. “The only thing I was missing was Mama.”

“Not your father?” He questioned quietly.

She shook her head. Long curly hair flying side to side. “No. You can’t miss something you never knew you lacked. I had my grandfather and all of my uncles, even a few surrogate grandfathers thrown in so it wasn’t a presence that I longed for. And I honestly wanted nothing to do with someone who could break my mother’s heart.”

There it was, that dark twisted spike curling in him at the confirmation that Penelope had truly fallen in love with another. “I see. Well, father’s are overrated. I didn’t have a relationship with my father but I turned out just fine.” He assured her proudly.

She looked at him dubious. “My mother wrote in her diary that you were an unhinged psychopathic lunatic and an unrepentant bastard.”

He burst into laughter. “Your Point?” He teased her. “You are quite blunt. Your Mother was the same, that woman chose the most cutting words in the world when talking to others.”

-

-

Judith flew high into the sky, searching for traces of her mother’s magic, she had felt some of it in the cemetery, and some in the Duchy, there were traces in a cave within a forest but it was scattered. But now, she flew towards the great source that she felt when she sensed another thing. A scent was in the air and she grinned as she released her invisibility spell and saw another dragon do the same.

She engaged in a light game of tag with Dodori as they played around in the air. They finally decided to land deep into a forest not too far from the Capital and returned to their human forms.

She and Dodori looked around the same age now, his aging seeming to have stopped in his early twenties.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she hugged her friend.

“Just wanted to check on you and make sure things are alright here.”

She grinned at him as she hugged him again, giving herself an excuse to hug him for longer. So what if she had a crush on him. He was handsome and the age gap was negligible if you thought in terms of dragons but she also wouldn’t act on it. Right now, she didn’t think she was in love with him or really felt that deeply beyond an appreciation for his good looks and some hero worship at her former instructor.

They spoke together for a bit before he said his goodbye and teleported away, assured of her well being. It couldn’t be helped though. She was in the eyes of all the dragons, the baby of their kind. She was currently the youngest one among their people, Raon being the second, and Dodori taking the third youngest title.

-

-

He turned to her, she was standing over him. Her long hair was like a curtain giving them privacy, her brow raised and her face just inches from him. He sat up slightly, closing the gap until their lips touched and he grabbed her, pulling her down to him, one hand wandering down to squeeze a cheek the way he used to.

She pulled away immediately, her hand went out to slap him repeatedly as she got off of him. “What the hell? Seriously, even here you’re thinking about this?”

“Tch, even in my dreams I’m being forced into celibacy.”

“You’re not being forced into anything.” The Princess said as her assault continued. “You can take any other woman into bed.”

“Well, I don’t want them in my bed.”

“Then you’re at fault for repressing yourself then.”

He rolled his eyes as he finally let down his hands from where it was protecting his face. Penelope was sitting down in front of him, her lips were quirked into a pretty smile. “None of those women do anything for me.”

“Oh, did something happen? That bit isn’t working anymore?” She asked, her words rather crude as she gestured at him.

“If it wasn’t working, do you think I would be acting this way towards you?”

“So you’re just as big of a perverted lecher as you were back then, Old Man?”

-

-

Judith stood with a smile so obviously fake, it put Uncle Alberu’s to shame. The more she heard with her dragon hearing, the angrier she got. And her smile was gradually changing, she knew. Soon it would be the full on patented Henituse-Thames scammer smile on her face, even now she struggled to control it as her mind began thinking up ways to scam the people in this banquet. Especially Princess Alissa who was a grown woman acting like a child throwing a tantrum.

Honestly, she didn’t even understand what was happening and why she was angry at Judith but she was already at her limits. Just as she thought that, the Princess approached her. Her smile became fixed on her face.

She didn’t think the Princess would try anything overt when the Emperor’s sole focus had been on Judith the entire time, and with the Crown Prince’s sharp gaze on his wife the moment he noticed she was walking towards her.

“Come join us, Marchioness.” The Princess offered.

She wanted to scoff. Join her and her little crew of malicious matronly harpies? No thanks. She wasn’t that old. But she kept her words to herself even as she continued to smile. Nodding and responding at the appropriate moments.

Her keen eyes saw the Princess gaze at one of her ladies and nod slightly which meant that Judith was prepared when the Lady ‘tripped’ and splashed some wine on her. Or rather, tried to splash wine on her. She side stepped the oncoming liquid, used her fan to block the rest, and held out an arm to catch both the falling Lady and her glass. Unfortunately, the wine splashed onto the Princess who was standing next to her.

Then the shrieking began as the Princess lost her composure and her hand raised to slap Judith. Just as she was about to dodge the blow, mindful of the fact that she couldn’t strike back or face charges of assault on a Royal, the Princess’ other hand reached out and grasped her wrist in a vice like grip as she hurled insults at her.

All the music had stopped and all attention was on them. She had no idea how she looked but at least the Princess seemed to be slightly unhinged in her eyes. The Crown Prince arrived, grabbing his wife’s hands even as the Emperor rushed to them.

As the Princess was being pulled away from her, she realized something crucial. The Princess’ grip hadn’t let up and the hand she had grabbed was the one with her bracelet. She could feel the chain digging into her skin. “NO! WAIT!” She screamed out loud just before the chain snapped and another silence descended.

The Emperor stopped and stared at her wide eyed and so did everyone else.

“You… you…” The Princess stuttered.

Damn. She never wanted anyone to find out about this.

-

-

Callisto’s eyes followed Penelope’s daughter as she made her rounds around the banquet. Frowning when he saw Alissa approaching Lady Judith. He had asked John to keep the two separate after a few encounters between the two had ended badly, all due to Alissa who seemed to have a particular hatred for the Marchioness.

He watched as she followed Alissa to her circle of ladies and winced but immediately began to grow amused as the girl clearly seemed to have stopped listening to their conversation and her eyes wandered around, catching his a few times. Penelope had been like that as well, even though she seemed to be able to hear everything at the same time.

Then he saw one of the Ladies trip and wine flew in the air, Lady Judith managed to dodge it but it ended up splashing on Alissa. Oh, he prepared himself for the explosion. And it was, the scream changed as she raised her hand another grabbing the Lady and he stood, rushing to the scene, only to be beaten by his cousin who pulled his wife away.

“NO. WAIT!” Lady Judith screamed as her eyes stared at the bracelet about to be torn off her. He knew from their talks that it was one of her mother’s last gifts and he mentally made a note to have it restored, it all fell away though as the bracelet finally snapped and the image of the girl in front of him changed. He froze, mind going blank as he stared at her.

Dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes were gone, replaced by golden curls and ruby eyes, dragon wings protruding from her back. Eighteen. His mind whispered. Eighteen not sixteen. Penelope’s daughter was eighteen. His daughter was eighteen.

The banquet had fallen to absolute silence as Lady Judith buried her face in her hands before she took a deep breath and looked at him for a moment then with her exhale, the wings disappeared. Folding into her back. Their eyes were still locked, ruby on ruby. His daughter was staring at him. His daughter… daughter?

Gods. He had a daughter! He was a father! He had a daughter with Penelope… he had a daughter with Penelope and he had missed out on her whole life. Penelope had made him miss it by keeping her a secret. He felt angry, upset, and hurt. This betrayal, he didn’t know how he felt anymore. Especially when she knew how much he had wanted a daughter that looked like her.

He shook himself, mind going off on a tangent. Cedric approached him with an unreadable look.

“Lady Judith…” He began, clearing his throat before he decided that enough was enough and he turned to the people. “This banquet is over.” He declared.

No one made to move though. His daughter was still standing, the emotions leaving her face the longer she stood still, then someone swooped in. It was Dodori, the Pink Dragon she had introduced him too a few days ago. He approached her and led her away, his glare intense.

-

-

He sat in his room with a bottle of wine and stared at Penelope’s portrait. For the first time, he didn’t feel good when staring at her face. He was alone now, Cedric had left him there, running away the moment he had dismissed him because he knew he would’ve struck his oldest friend down if he looked at him any longer. Cedric had known Penelope was pregnant when she reappeared in Roan’s high society but had kept it to himself because of some trashy agreement he had signed. It was a two pronged betrayal.

He fell asleep.

“So you finally know.” Penelope said as she met him the moment his eyes closed.

Anger rose within him as he grasped her arms.

“Why? Why would you do this to me? Why would you keep her from me?” He asked, voice cracking at how utterly gutted he felt.

She looked at him, face blank. “What makes you think you deserved it? I couldn’t trust you with her. What was to stop you for hurting her the way you hurt me? It was the only way I could protect her.”

He stumbled away from her at her words. Protect their daughter from him? Him? Hurt their daughter? Hurt the only piece of Penelope left in this world?

“I already know that all you wanted was the throne and the Eckart were crucial for you to have at your back. To get that you needed an Eckart Princess, it didn’t matter which one. But I was the only one available at the time.” She continued on and he wished for her to stop. “What would you have done to the daughter of a woman you despised?”

“Penelope…” He began, wanting her to understand that it wasn’t like that. That he truly did love her but he couldn’t.

She raised her hand. “I tried to tell you, that day. Our last day, when you chased me with your sword but you wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t listen.”

Stop. Please. He begged in his mind. Images of that day flashed in his mind only it was Judith running away in fear instead of Penelope.

Penelope sighed. “Now that you know, there’s no point in trying to pretend that her identity wasn’t revealed. Go talk to her when you’re both ready but don’t put it off too long. It’ll fester. And ask her about the letter.” Then Penelope brushed her hands on his forehead and gave it a kiss.

Snippets from Time and Despair. Part of my planned series for Time and Regret. It’s an angst piece, I guess. Some mentions of suicide. Some hints of PJO universe and Greek-Roman mythology.

Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. She thought as she desperately tried to quell this despair and loneliness inside her. If she had known that she would ascend anyway, she would rather have accepted the Gods request to join their ranks while she was in her world. While she had the chance to be tied to that world forevermore. She wanted to die. Wanted the sweet oblivion that awaited her in death. Wanted to forget these lonely eons lived. Wanted to be back at Camp with her friends. Wanted to go home to Long Island.

Her friends had died so long ago. One after another. Leaving behind their descendants turned worshippers. Golden blood, ichor, bled from her rapidly healing wound. Sapphira came to her with Eruhaben at her side. These two dragons, little hatchlings, her friends. Children of her long dead friend. Children she had raised with all the love and care she had in her.

“Do you really want to leave us, Thea?” Sapphira asked, ruby eyes staring at her with so much sadness.

She raised her hands to them and they grasped one each, holding it to their cheeks. “I’m sorry.” She said. “I’m so tired, so alone. Humans weren’t meant to live like this.”

“I can’t understand it.” Eruhaben said, a frown on his face, golden eyes forlorn.

“I hope you never do but one day, you may just grow weary.” She kissed his forehead. “Take care of one another when I’m gone.”

“We will.” They echoed.

And then she glanced at her attendants, her priests and priestesses. “And take care of my people, they’ll serve you in my stead.”

“Yes, Goddess.”

She felt assured and motioned them away, mind calmer. Her death pushed back for another day by her children. They were still too young, barely past their first century. Maybe in another century or so. She nodded to herself. And then… she would shatter, cast her mortal soul into oblivion or reincarnation, and force whatever consciousness she had left into deep slumber. Regardless, Althea would soon cease to exist.

-

-

She remembered red and warmth, love and safety. Remembered kind hands and gilded walls. But she and Mother Suzanna could never find it. It was never right. Even when she took her new father’s hands, it wasn’t the same. Like a mockery where red was pink, where roses bloomed rather than the safety of a turtle’s shell, where warmth and safety were traded for cruelty and abuse. But she tried to make the best of it, really, she did.

No matter how hard she tried though, she was always the fake. They were all fake too. She worked so hard and had nothing to show for it, could never compare to a ghost who wasn’t a ghost but a demon and she died.

But then she awoke. She tried. She died. She woke. The torment never ending and the turtle never far away from her mind.

Penelope felt herself shatter, never finding that warmth again. She welcomed that oblivion.

-

-

Siyeon felt tired of having to be alert all the time. She wanted to be back with Roksoo. Her cousin was the only one who cared for her with Mother gone. She hated her brothers, she hated her father. She wanted to be back in that apartment, shitty as it was, it had been home. A home that she and her cousin had made. Memories seeped into her mind, were those Penelope’s deaths? The poor thing.

She wakes up most nights gasping in terror. Hands going to her neck, her face, her heart. Everywhere she had been injured to kill as Penelope. Hopelessness and despair filled her especially when Callisto told her that he didn’t love her. Love? Fine. There was no need for love. Then Yvonne comes and death comes with it. She buys the poison, writes a letter goodbye to her father, and one to Callisto. Emily’s she has hidden somewhere she knows only Emily will find. Her maid will be the one to present it.

But then… poison in Yvonne’s cup, the necklace glows. She accepts it and drinks it instead. Let herself die. But it hurts and her Prince is there, holding her, begging her to live. The red of her blood reminds her of something else. Warmth and love. She thinks of mother and Roksoo.

Then she wakes up, another set of memories play in her. This… she and her prince were lovers in true? But the queasiness returns. Some sort of elation and trepidation as she sneaks out and seeks a doctor who confirms what she knows. Pregnant. Surely… would her Prince be happy?

‘He didn’t love you then. He doesn’t love you now. He didn’t believe you. He’s only using you, only wants the Eckart backing.’ Her treacherous mind whispers.

She’ll see him tomorrow and tell him then. He’ll be happy. She tries to assure herself.

But then he chases her, sword drawn, blood flowing down as she runs desperately. Whatever Gods are listening please save my baby. Emily holds her as their escape is blocked and she finds darkness as the world falls away.

Siyeon wakes up to warmth and red. To loving browns and golden turtles. What she has been searching for in all of her lives. Roksoo is by her side as her twin and her heart sings. Her baby is born beautiful and so perfect. Her little golden dragon. Ruby eyes stare at her blearily. Happiness. She was at peace and so in love with this little life in her arms. Her Judith.

Her memories of herself as Siyeon changed with Cale’s words. Herself in a coma. Waking up in the hospital. A new apartment with her cousin. Travelling. The voices warning her that something was happening while she was at a dig. The Cataclysm. Sacrificing herself. Waking up as Penelope.

Then, war and a hunt. A return to Eorka. To see him. The pain nothing more than a dull sting.

Then… dying, she’s dying. Her choked laugh escapes her. Penelope cried. Please stop killing me. She thought as she realized that one of them had inevitably killed her again.

She dies, surrounded by love with her only regret that her daughter would grow up without her.

And then she awakens, memories of the last loop fresh in her mind, still the same this time around but so different. She cries, bursting into tears at finding herself in this hell once more…

What did you guys think? Should I make this longer and flesh it out? If I did, it will probably be three chapters long, one for each life.

wow okay i’m crying now

“And even as he watched the rescue unfolding that morning, he would have understood that for the living, everything which could have been done had been done: not a single survivor was lost or injured being brought aboard the Carpathia. For those who had gone down with the Titanic, save for reverencing their memory at the service later that day, there was nothing more that he or anyone could do. Rostron’s duty now was as he always saw it: to the living.”

I looked up a bit about this because the post is so movingly written that when I read it aloud to my husband and mother they both wept like babies, and something else really struck me about this story.

So Carpathia was not a top-end luxury liner. Her reputation was for being Jolly Comfortable - she was very broad in her proportions, and not super-duper fast, and the result was that she didn’t rock so much on the waves and you couldn’t particularly hear/feel the engines. She was solid and dependable, and lots of people liked using her, but she therefore occupied a lesser niche than Titanic or Olympian or whatever - and crucially, as a result of that, she only had one radio operator on board. This means she only had radio ops for a certain window in the day, unlike Titanic, which had 24 hour radio ops.

So on that night, when Titanic went down, Carpathia’s wireless operator - one Harold Cottam - clocked off his shift at midnight, and went to bed. While he was getting ready for bed, though, he left the transmitter on for the hell of it, and therefore picked up a transmission from Cape Race in Newfoundland, the closest transmitting tower sending messages to the ships. They told him that they had a backlog of private traffic for Titanic that wasn’t getting through. So, even though his shift was over, and it was now 11 minutes past bloody midnight, and he just wanted to go to bed, Harold Cottam decided that nonetheless, he’d be helpful, and let the Titanic know they had messages waiting.

And that’s how he received the Titanic’s distress signal. In spite of no longer being on shift to receive it, and therefore in order to send Carpathia galloping to Titanic’s rescue, and thus saving 705 people.

All because Harold Cottam decided one night to be kind. 

I dunno. That’s just really stuck with me.

Cottam also ended up staying awake for something like 48 hours straight trying to send survivors messages and a list of survivors home, but due to Carpathia’s limited radio frequency range and with no other ships to act as a relay, this was rather patchy. However, he tried his damn best to make sure the survivor’s messages got home, and was also bombarded with incoming messages of bribes to spill the details of the disaster to the press.

Rostrum had ordered that no messages to the press be sent out of respect to the survivors, for they would have their privacy destroyed as soon as they reached New York. Cottam respected this order, even under extreme duress of fatigue, stress, and the knowledge that in some cases the bribes were almost three times his annual salary.

He eventually went to bed but not before working with one of the rescued Titanic’s radio operators, Harold Bride, to transmit as many messages as possible. Bride was injured (his feet had been crushed in a lifeboat) and had just passed the body of the second of Titanic’s radio operators aboard (Jack Phillips), so neither of them were really in the best shape to keep working, but they did.

In the face of extreme adversity, both men refused to do anything but their duty (and exceeding their duty) not just because Rostrum had ordered it, but because it was the right thing to do. They could have profited considerably from the disaster and they refused for the dignity of the survivors.

This is hopepunk. This is what we can be, what we are, when instinct takes over. This is what we are when we choose to care about each other. We’re not profit machines or units of production or lone fierce wolves in a bitter wilderness. We are people, and we care about people.

This is human nature. Don’t give up on it.

Hopepunk is best punk.

this always leaves me sobbing. fuck.

I wrote a post a couple of years ago, wondering why there hadn’t been a documentary or docu-drama about the ‘Carpathia’ rescue run.

There are probably sound reasons why not, one of which is probably that getting yet another ‘Titanic’ project greenlit is far easier - name recognition, pre-sold property, multiple conspiracy theories to play with (all discredited, but when did that stop the “History” Channel?)

Here are a couple of stories about ‘Carpathia’:

As @mylordshesacactus has already said, her boilers and engines were rated for no more than 14 knots and, when she managed 17.5 for the only time in her life it’s said (I hate the phrase but I have to use it) that the Chief Engineer hung his hat over the main pressure gauge so no-one - including himself - could see how far its needle was into the red.

Captain Rostron, a religious man, was seen on several occasions standing privately on the exposed bridge wing with his own hat raised and his mouth moving in silent prayer, and when daylight revealed the extent of the ice-field his ship had passed without harm, he only said “There must have been another Hand on the wheel than mine…”

There’s another problem-of-sorts about a screenplay set aboard ‘Carpathia’ - an astonishing lack of that easy dramatic tool, conflict. Captain Rostron decided he was going to the ‘Titanic’s assistance, and that was that. AFAIK not a single passenger or crewman - not one - questioned the wisdom of his decision either then or afterwards, even when…

It’s easier to write - and sell - a story about pride, arrogance, stupidity, rich against poor and lives lost through hubris, than it is to write one about people who rallied round and did the right thing at the right time, not for reward but because it was the right thing to do.

Here’s Rostron and his officers…

…the ‘Carpathia’ stewards and cabin crew….

…some of her passengers…

…and some of the people they helped.

I will always reblog one of the few posts to GUARANTEE leaving me in an ugly sobbing heartfelt mess.

Godspeed Carpathia and your crew, your memories live on.

@wearepaladin

I never thought there would be a version of him like this...

I also never thought I would identify so much with Lottie xD

SPOILER

Penelope: *destroys the cave and kills all of Layla's fanatics*

Callisto: okey, I understand. you are dangerous. just let's agree that when we kiss you won't break my ribs

Episode 120❤️