The girls of the Kimi verse are teaching people about black history month

Static Shock, Black Lighting, Miles Morales, Storm and the entire Land of Lighting, all have two things in common: black skin and Powers involving lighting.

Could this just be a coincidence, or the workings of a higher power?

Join our protagonist Lamar Washington in his journey from a small spark to a great storm.

Mirko. Just the name is enough to frighten people. He is the current Alpha of Black Devil pack. 
Young in age but with burning eyes and a stormy history, his black wolf is more like a prehistoric creature rather than a simple alpha werewolf. 

Black Devil is the notorious werewolf pack with the most powerful warriors in Europe. They descended directly from a Pure Wolf that was kidnapped by a Red Rouge, whose mate was never created. All the following Alphas of the pack were cursed to be mate-less ~ their sole destiny to become feral, eaten up by their beast within.

Elena is the daughter of Alpha Giacomo and Luna Elisa, a human. A beautiful and independent young girl that loves running in the woods and enjoys her life within the pack, Full Moon. 

Full Moon and Black Devil shares a long history of blood and tears, currently coexisting in a cold awareness.

What will happen when Elena meet Alpha Mirko? 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This story will bring you into a world that you wish to be part of and never go back..

Mirko.
Just the name is enough to frighten.
Young in age but with burning eyes and stormy history, with a wolf that looks more like a prehistoric creature than a simple alpha wolf. 
He is the Alpha of Black Devil. It is said that those wolves had been cursed to born without a mate, their destiny to become feral, slowly devoured by their inner beasts.
☆☆☆☆
Elena took a moment to examine his whole appearance. His nostrils flared, thick veins popped out of his face and neck, eyes pitched black, ears elongated inhumanly and frightening fangs pierced his lips.
Any other person would have run away.
In her eyes, he had never been so beautiful.
☆☆☆☆
After this book, you will find yourself longing to hear that simple, but powerful word; the one that each of us crave to hear once in a lifetime: MATE
☆☆☆☆
Mature content will be indicated before it starts
BxG and BXB
☆☆☆☆
Some reviews from my awesome readers:
Annaglowka2005:
"MASTERPIECE!!!!
If you read this book you probably already know how good it is, how characters have an actual personality, how reading this book makes you laugh, cry, and laugh even harder. We know it ,so what I wanted to add is the fact that the author is an amazing person."

Hrishita Dhavale:
"This book is amazing!! It's so far one of the only books that I've actually waited for an update. I would recommend it to anybody and everybody who loves reading Werewolf romances:)"

This continues where HM Black and white left off, but first goes back in history to share some light on comming characters.


One could not the extraordinariness from the outside. However, upon entering the villa, one could see that it was a huge area and the infrastructure was extremely intricate.
It was filled with greenery and water.
There were ponds and lakes everywhere. Even though it was winter, due to the abundance of spiritual energy, the ponds and lakes didn’t freeze over, and balls of mist hovered just above the water surface.
The place was covered in greenery and pavillions and lakes were scattered throughout. 
"This is a good place!" Chu Yu complimented
Villa Owner Dong said, "Of course, we used to receive foreign dignitaries here!"
Villa Owner Dong began to reminisce, "Actually, it has been thirty years. Back then, I was just a fresh employee here."
Then he shook his head and sighed, "Time has flown by in the blink of an eye. I have become old and the world... has completely changed."
Villa Owner Dong welcomed Chu Yu into the depths of the Villa. They entered a small building with a huge conference room. 
The two of them sat down and called for tea to be served. Villa Owner Dong went straight to the point, "Mr Chu must be here about the Green Lion Lord?"
Chu Yu nodded, "How much do you know about it?"
Villa Owner Dong sipped the tea and replied, "A lot!"
"I would like the hear about it." Chu Yu replied. 
"There have been rumors about the Jingpo Lake area for thousands of years. There are even rumours that dragons roamed the waters. It is said that people capture it on film, but I have never seen one so I can neither confirm nor deny that fact. However, I do know about this Green Lion Lord."
VIlla Owner Dong was quite emotional, "It is a relatively ancient demon. It is at least a thousand years old. Furthermore, it used to be king in the ancient BoHai nation..."
Mm?
Chu Yu’s eyes widened. He thought to himself, I had gone to primary school, you can’t hoodwink me like that.
The BoHai nation existed between 700A.D. and 900A.D.
This coincides with the Tang Dynasty. Back then, the nation’s capital was at a place very close to the Flying Dragon Lake Villa. That location was known as the Shangjing Longquanfu [1]
The BoHai nation then was extremely prosperous, and it was the center of the economy and culture of the nation.
It had gone through 15 generations of kings!
The royal family of BoHai were the MoHe people.
How could a lion possibly be their prince?
Ever since Chu Yu was ‘wasted’ at the age of six, he had been studying hard. As such, even though he was no expert, he was quite well versed in Chinese history.
Villa Owner Dong laughed, "Do you find it a little unbelievable?"
Chu Yu nodded and said, "Villa Owner Dong, I am also a Northener..."
"Hahaha, I know that Mr. Chu is a Northerner! We have the same ancestry!"
Villa Owner Dong was extremely fluent, and he had done his research into BoHai’s history. He recounted the entire history to Chu Yu.
Finally, he asked, "All of these that I have said are recorded in the annals. It shouldn’t be too far from what Mr Chu understands right?"
Chu Yu nodded.
"However, Mr Chu must understand that after the ancient BoHai nation disappeared, there were virtually no valuable items and documents left behind."
Villa Owner Dong looked at Chu Yu and smiled, "That is because BoHai was founded by a cultivator! His descendants were all cultivators. After the kingdom was broken, they had burnt all the documents and items, not wanting others to get their hands on them."
Chu Yu’s mouth twitched.
"Is the founder of BoHai that you speak of Da Zuorong? [2]
Villa Owner Dong nodded, "That’s right, it is him. Strictly speaking, he is not a cultivator, based on today’s classification, he was a martial artist in the advanced Acupoint Charging Realm."
"..." Chu Yu was exasperated, but did not rebut. 
He knew that after the Earth had changed, many of the ancient legends had become facts.
As such, some of these historical people being disciples from sects in various dimensions was not completely impossible.
"In fact, you can find hints of these recorded in history."
Villa Owner Dong smiled and said, "For example, there were extremely powerful generals back in the Era of the Three Kingdoms. Some of them could take on a thousand, even ten thousand people! There was Lu Bu, Zhao Yun, Dian Wei... do you really think that these are ordinary people?"
Chu Yu was shocked.
Indeed, the battle power of these people were well recorded in history.
They were definitely extraordinary. 
"The Green Lion Lord had been cultivating since then, and was one of the divine beasts of the BoHai nation. Because it was so spiritual and ferocious, it was given the title Green Lion Lord!"
Villa Owner Dong looked at Chu Yu, "That’s why it is correct for me to call it the king of BoHai."
"I would never had thought that Villa Owner Dong would have such extensive knowledge about this period in history!" Chu Yu exclaimed. 
Even the recent history had been drowned in the tides of time, reduced to an insignificant wave in an ocean, not to mention history 6000 years ago.
Being so well versed in history and the happenings back then was no easy feat. 
The things that Villa Owner Dong said today were stuff that even the historians specializing in BoHai’s history may not know completely.
Then again, they may not believe it. 
"That is because, my ancestors were good friends with Da Zuorong."
Villa Owner Dong said with a sigh, "As time went by, there were many pocket dimensions which dried up and crumbled. There were also many stellar ancestors who fell after waiting endlessly. BoHai country is one of them."
Ancestor Da Zuorong was one of the powerful cultivators in the ancient times. 
When the world was sealed, he brought along his people and set up a pocket dimension. 
However, their population was too small!
Back then, not many people would have realized that they were in it for the long haul. 
As such, they didn’t think that a large population was necessary to keep the bloodline going.  	
Back then, ancestor Da Zuorong had only brought along a few thousand citizens and another few thousand aides and servants into the pocket dimension.
After aeons, they managed to get their population up to about a hundred thousand.
However, most of them were wiped out after an internal war.
About 1000 years ago, the people left in the pocket dimension were no more than 50.
A whole pocket dimension was close to death!
"In fact, many of the ‘gods who came down’ were cultivators forced to leave their pocket dimensions." Villa Owner Dong said, "At least if they came out, they had a chance at survival. If they stayed in the pocket dimension..."
He shook his head and sighed, "In the ancient times, our world was known for being the most prosperous! The population numbers were mind boggling. However, the bloodlines which managed to last till today are no more than a thousandth of the ancient days."
He raised his head and looked at Chu Yu, "That’s why, we are very lucky to be able to see the world unsealed!"
Chu Yu nodded. Kids like him who were born after the world was unsealed were supposed to be the lucky few. 
"The Green Lion Lord thinks then its bloodline is pure and that the entire Northern Territories belong to it. However, because of our links to the authorities, as well as my ancestors ties with Da Zuorong, it did not force us too much."
Villa Owner Dong looked at Chu Yu, "However, it killed eight of the Chu Clan disciples, and invited me to watch... this was clearly a threat. Aish, from that moment, I knew that it would be impossible to keep the people safe just by riding on my ancestors links with Da Zuorong. 
At this point, Zhao Rui entered and whispered, "Master, the banquet is ready."
Villa Owner Zhuang nodded and looked at Chu Yu, "Since Mr Chu is here, let me be your host. Later, I will tell you more about that area in order for you to prepare yourself."
Chu Yu thought about it before replying, "Ok, many thanks for your hospitality!"
"You are most welcome, please don’t be so formal!" Villa Owner Dong said repeatedly, "It is our honor to be able to interact with a Chu Clan hero."
After which, Chu Yu followed him into the banquet hall. 
Once inside, Chu Yu was stunned by the posh decorations. 
Even though he came from a big clan, he had never seen such luxury.
It was hard to imagine that such a luxurious place could be found in a location like Dan Jiang city.
The service staff were well groomed and the utensils were set up to perfection. Every minute detail was refined to the highest standards.
It would seem that Villa Owner Dong wasn’t bragging when he said this place was used to host foreign dignitaries. 
"Villa Owner Dong is too kind, I am slightly embarrassed." Chu Yu said. 
"It is our honor to be able to host a member of the Chu Clan." As Villa Owner Dong spoke, he blushed, "To be honest, using my Divination Technique, I was told that I would only have a future by having a good relationship with the Chu Clan. Especially..."
As he spoke, he was suddenly speechless. His expression changed and he frowned at a black dog with blood dripping from its mouth. 
Villa Owner Dong’s eyes flashed with anger, "Black Dog Small Lord, what have you done?"
This black dog had appeared without sound or introduction and it looked coldly at the crowd in the banquet hall, "Your people tried to stop me, so I taught them a lesson and detached them."
"You..." Villa Owner Dong was visibly furious, his hand trembling as he pointed at Black Dog Small Lord, "Your King said..."
"My King said that it will give you time to consider, not to engage the Chu Clan!"
The Black Dog interrupted Villa Owner Dong and looked at Chu Yu, "Chu Clan b*stard, come and meet your maker!"
"Who is the b*stard scolding?"
"The b*stard is scolding you! You... you dare to insult me?" The black dog was furious and it couldn’t resist but shout. 
"See, dogs are dogs, revealing themselves at the critical junctures. Furthermore, you’re just a small lord... why are you so arrogant?"
Chu Yu rose and smiled insincerely at Villa Owner Dong and walked to the door. 
The black dog, which was at the door, continued to bark, "Wu... Woof... Wu!"
"Stop barking wildly here puppy, scram!" Chu Yu said mockingly. 
Villa Owner Dong was slightly worried, "Mr Chu, I did not betray you..."
Chu Yu turned back and glanced at the anxious Villa Owner Dong. Then he smiled and nodded, "I believe you!"
Then, he attacked!
The attack was directed straight at the barking black dog.
A wave of energy morphed into an arrow and fired off at an alarming speed. 
Black Dog Small Lord also radiated a terrifying aura and attacked just when Chu Yu’s attack was launched. 
It opened its mouth filled with razor sharp teeth!
The razor sharp teeth glowed as the chandeliers in the banquet hall shone light on it.
Puff!
Black Dog Small Lord’s body was penetrated by a sharp wave of force.
Blood began to flow from the open wound. 
"Little dog, don’t waste the black dog blood! I need it!" Chu Yu said loudly.
"Woof!"
Black Dog Small Lord was nearly driven to insanity by that statement. 
[1] Shangjing Longquanfu or Sanggyeong Yongcheonbu , also known as Shangjing (上京) or Sanggyeong , Huhan/Holhan Fortress or Dongjing (Eastern Capital), was the capital city of BoHai (Balhae)
[2] Dae Joyeong, or King Go, established the Balhae nation. 


The eagle soars through the sky; the fish leaps over the dragon's gate; the bear roars and the tiger growls; all things in the world have a spirit. At the ends of Earth, the poles and magnetic field re-align; the world changes. The world that we were so used to, is no longer.

When myths turn to reality; when legends are no longer enigmatic, the world is now limitless.

This is not your average history story where I talk about Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa  Parks, Malcolm X, etc. No, this is the story where I tell you of how black people changed history. Changed the world, even. No, we haven't completely done something now and we are thought of as people who do nothing but smoke weed and kill each other. However, there are some people that have done something to change the world in a particular way. Most girls that you hear about on the news that just invented something that has changed the way we think about life have the exact same mindset that those certain people I mentioned at the beginning of this intro.

I have read some things that have shocked me in a certain way. People being lynched. People being accused of something they did not do. People... Wait... Did I forget to mention that those people where black? They were black, just to let you know. Well, I will tell you more about these people later in this book.

Ciao for now! Hope you "enjoy" the rest of this novel!!!

See through the eyes of a black girl and see what she and her fellow brothers have to go through. You just might not regret it. \(-_-)/

After he leaves, she goes back to Earl Hye's house and makes a beeline for her room. She first opens the letter from Dilbert.
The war has reached past the gate of Loresh. They are currently preparing to take out their hidden card. The news has most likely already reached DaLan...
Marguerite reads the 2 pages of information. It seems that she was wrong in her calculations. The war advanced much more quickly than she thought.
She knows what Loresh's hidden car is. It is a weapon stolen from their country called the catapult. They most likely improved it and plan to use it early on to surprise Armel.
Loresh still thinks that their plan A hasn't been leaked to the enemy and so haven't put in place plan B yet. They still think that our weapons have been successfully damaged. But even if they do realize it, their plan B and plan C is also known to us. All thanks to Dilbert.
DUMMY CHAPTER


Image above: Portrait of Mollie Williams (Mississippi), taken as part of the Federal Writers' Project
This article was published online on February 9, 2021.
On a rainy thursday afternoon in November, I stepped inside the National Museum of African American History and Culture, in Washington, D.C. On past visits, I'd always encountered crowds of tourists and school groups, a space bursting with movement and sound. But on this day, the museum was nearly empty. It seemed to echo with all the people who had been there but were no longer. For the few of us inside, social distancing was dictated by blue circles scattered on the floor.
I made my way down to the bottom level, which documents the history of slavery in America. Masks were mandatory, and something about the pieces of cloth covering everyone's mouths seemed to amplify the silence and solemnity of what surrounded us.
I walked past the statue of Thomas Jefferson standing among bricks bearing the names of people he'd enslaved, past a cabin that enslaved people had slept in, and past the stone auction block upon which enslaved people had been sold and separated from their families.
Toward the end of a long corridor was a dimly lit room with sepia-toned photos on the walls. Photos of enslaved people holding their own children, or their enslaver's children. Photos of fresh wounds on the backs of those who'd been beaten. Photos of people bent over fields of cotton that hid their faces.
But what was most striking about the room was the voices running through it. The words of people who had survived slavery were running on a six-minute loop. Their voices floated through the air like ghosts.
"My father was not allowed to see my mother but two nights a week," said a woman in the voice of Mary A. Bell. "Dat was Wednesday and Saturday. So he often came home all bloody from his beatings."
"I had to wok evva day," said a woman in the voice of Elvira Boles. "I'd leave mah baby cryin' in the yard, and I'd be cryin', but I couldn't stay."
"My mudder word in de field," said Harrison Beckett. "Sometimes she come in 9 or 10 'clock at night. She be all wore out an' it be so dark she too tired to cook lots of times, but she hafter git some food so we could eat it. Us all 'round de table like dat was like a feast."
 
When I'd first encountered these floating voices years before, I was fascinated by how ordinary their stories were. These were not tales of daring escapes like those of Henry "Box" Brown, who in 1849 contorted his body into a wooden crate for 27 hours as it was delivered from the slave state of Virginia to abolitionists in Pennsylvania—mailing himself to freedom. Nor were they the stories of Frederick Douglass, who as a teenager, in 1833, fought his white slave breaker with such force that the man never hit Douglass again. Nor were they the stories of Harriet Jacobs, who, in an attempt to escape the physical and sexual abuses of slavery, hid in an attic for seven years.
From the January 1867 issue: Frederick Douglass's 'An Appeal to Congress for Impartial Suffrage'
Brown became a global celebrity who turned his escape routine into a one-man show that traveled throughout the United States and England. Douglass and Jacobs wrote autobiographies that became best sellers, and that today are staples in classrooms around the world. Theirs are the stories I learned as a child, and there's great value in teaching kids stories of resistance, of Black people not being passive recipients of violence. But I remember how, after reading them, I found myself wondering why every enslaved person didn't just escape like these famous figures did. The memory of that thought now fills me with shame.
The stories swirling about the room weren't famous accounts of extraordinary people; rather, they were the words of all-but-forgotten individuals who bore witness to the quotidian brutality of chattel slavery. These stories were the result of the Federal Writers' Project—a New Deal program that was tasked with collecting the oral histories of thousands of Americans. From 1936 to 1938, interviewers from the FWP gathered the firsthand accounts of more than 2,300 formerly enslaved people in at least 17 states. The members of the last generation of people to experience slavery were reaching the end of their lives, and so there was an urgency to record their recollections. In scale and ambition, the project was unlike any that had come before it. The Federal Writers' Project ex-slave narratives produced tens of thousands of pages of interviews and hundreds of photographs—the largest, and perhaps the most important, archive of testimony from formerly enslaved people in history.
The descendants of those who were interviewed can read the words of people they thought had been lost to history.
While many of these narratives vividly portray the horror of slavery—of families separated, of backs beaten, of bones crushed—embedded within them are stories of enslaved people dancing together on Saturday evenings as respite from their work; of people falling in love, creating pockets of time to see each other when the threat of violence momentarily ceased; of children skipping rocks in a creek or playing hide-and-seek amid towering oak trees, finding moments when the movement of their bodies was not governed by anything other than their own sense of wonder. These small moments—the sort that freedom allows us to take for granted—have stayed with me.
 
When I first came across the narratives, I was confused as to why I had never, not once in my entire education, been made aware of their existence. It was as if this trove of testimony—accounts that might expand, complicate, and deepen my understanding of slavery—had purposefully been kept from view.
 Portraits of formerly enslaved people, taken as part of the Federal Writers' Project. Left to right, top row: Willis Winn (Texas); James Green, seated, with an unidentified individual (Texas); Ben Kinchelow (Texas); Charles H. Anderson (Ohio). Second row: Mary Crane (Indiana); Daniel Taylor (Alabama); Orelia Alexia Franks (Texas). Third row: Harriet Jones (Texas); Simp Campbell (Texas); Patsy Moses (Texas). Fourth row: Gus Johnson (Texas); Ben Horry (South Carolina); Maugan Shepherd (Alabama); William Henry Towns (Alabama).
For many black americans, there is a limit to how far back we can trace our lineage. The sociologist Orlando Patterson calls it natal alienation: the idea that we have been stripped of social and cultural ties to a homeland we cannot identify. I have listened to friends discuss the specific village in Italy their ancestors came from, or the specific town in the hills of Scotland. No such precision is possible for Black Americans who are the descendants of enslaved people. Even after our ancestors were forcibly brought to the shores of the New World, few records documented their existence. The first census to include all Black Americans by name was conducted in 1870, five years after slavery ended. Trying to recover our lineage can be a process of chasing history through a cloud of smoke. We search for what often cannot be found. We mourn for all we do not know.
 
But the descendants of those who were interviewed for the Federal Writers' Project have been given something that has been denied to so many Black Americans: the opportunity to read the words, and possibly see the faces, of people they thought had been lost to history.
Because these narratives are not often taught in school, many people come across them for the first time later in life. Several historians told me that their encounters with these stories had shifted the trajectory of their personal and intellectual lives. Catherine A. Stewart, a historian at Cornell College, in Iowa, and the author of Long Past Slavery: Representing Race in the Federal Writers' Project, remembers sitting in the basement of the university library as a graduate student, making her way through reels of microfilm. "I will just never forget this sensation I had of these stories—of these life histories of these individuals, personal stories and experiences of enslavement—just leaping off the page," she said.
Read: A priceless archive of ordinary life


Marguerite is oblivious as she folds Arthmael's body into beautiful silhouettes. Following the familiar choreography, she dances relentlessly.

Grand Jete! Penche! followed by a series of graceful pas de chats. All concatenated in front of the enthralled emperor.

When the music reaches the outro in a full stop, Marguerite falls gracefully on the floor in a pose. She stays there and waits for the king to tell her she can leave.

She stays on the ground for a long time but hears nothing from him. Wondering if she did anything wrong, she wants to lift her head to look at the king's face, but quickly remembers the warning he gave her. If she disrespects him any further, who knows what he might do to her.

She suddenly feels her chin being lifted, her eyes meet the hazels of Demian. She forgets to breathe and falls from her pose onto the floor. She doesn't have time to regain her senses before two strong arms lift her off the floor.

She is about to question him on his weird behaviour when her mouth is suddenly covered by his in a kiss.

-------------------------------------------------
Marguerite is very talented. She has a beautiful voice, a great passion for music and various talents in the arts. Unfortunately, her bright future gets compromised when she is forced to leave her world to fulfill the wish of someone else. Marguerite wanting to go home as soon as possible, accepts. However things turn out quite unexpected for her.

The cover belongs to the rightful owner. If you are the owner of the art and want me to take it down, DM me on discord burlesque_dancer#2837

Washington DC., Washington
28 Avgust 1963.

- I am happy to join you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation...

Two hundred thousand people are standing around the steps of Lincoln Memorial and listen a speech of doctor Martin Luther King, the great a fighter for rights and against discrimination of African American people. Martin Luther King look a gathered people and continued his speech.

-Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity...

Thousand of black people are carefully listen their leader. They agree with him because they know how much their lives has been difficult and sad. For centuries they has been slaves for rich white people and suffered violence, insults, humiliation and orders from their masters. Why? Because they are a black, they are different.  As they treated the Native Americans, so they than and now treat a black people in the same way. Some black leaders want to stop this discrimination and fight for rights and better life of their nation. Because of that, people gathered and decided to calmly point out what bothers them, to say all their wishes and dreams.

-I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: " We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal"
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have dream today.
I have dream that one day every valley shall be exhalted, every hill and mountain shall be mede low, the rough places will be made plain, and tehe crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
 I have dream today...

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