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phoebenavarro · 2 years ago

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i could be so good at love

for day two of @eliasbouchardweek! For the prompts alternate timeline and worship

the magnus archives, Tim/Elias, pre canon AU, 6000 words

Rating: E

Summary: Elias Bouchard takes one look at Tim stoker and immediately sees the potential of Tim to be one of two things: a liability likely to throw a wrench in his plans and cause all sorts of headache, or an ally driven by his deep sense of loyalty. Tim is alone, desperately seeking companionship, so Elias decides the best way to secure his loyalty is to seduce him. He just doesn't expect to actually like Tim as much as he does.

extended preview under the cut, find the full fic on ao3 here!

Elias sees the mark the Stranger left on Tim when he hires him. A quick scan through Tim’s surface thoughts tells Elias what he needs to know: how Tim came to be marked by the Stranger, and just how badly Tim is hurting. Tim’s psyche is a completely raw nerve, and he is driven purely by his sense of loyalty. That loyalty is to his brother, of course, and he has vowed to avenge him, because he couldn’t do anything to stop the Stranger from taking him. The man’s loyalty runs deep. It’s the only reason he’s still alive.

Elias takes one look at him and thinks, he could be useful. There’s a deep well of anger simmering within him that will be quite impressive when it’s released. The key here will be making sure that anger is directed at the Institute’s enemies, and not at Elias himself. He’s already making plans for his next Archivist, the Archivist following Gertrude… The Archivist that, if everything goes according to plan, will see the fruition of 200 years of work.

Tim is a potential candidate for the position, but that volatility makes him less than ideal. He’s better suited as an assistant, then. Elias already knows that the next Archivist will need to be kept in the dark, discover the secrets of the Institute on their own, but fumbling along with them in the dark may not suit Tim. He may grow impatient and impulsive. No, to ensure that Tim stays on the right side of things, he needs to gain his trust. He needs to become the object of his loyalty, and to do that, he’ll have to give Tim at least some information about the Circus. But that won’t be enough on its own. Tim is grieving, suspicious of others, and slow to trust. (And who wouldn’t be, Elias thinks, after an encounter like that with the Stranger?)

So Elias keeps a close eye on his newest employee. Despite his paranoia that anyone could be a Stranger, Tim is desperate for companionship, fleeting and superficial as his hookups may be. And my, Elias Sees that there are a lot of them. Over the course of one week, Elias Watches as Tim has sex with two men, one woman, and a gender fluid person. He Watches Tim put on fake smiles and turn on the charm in exchange for a bit of affection.

It’s sad. Elias fees a bit of sympathy for him, even as he also finds it pathetic. Endearing, but pathetic. (Not that Jonah was any different, in his youth. Perhaps he’s in no position to judge. How many men did he sleep with in his youth just to provide a small distraction from the crushing fear of his own mortality? Quite a few. Perhaps that’s why he’s sympathetic to Tim’s current state of mind.)

But if companionship is what Tim is craving, Elias is more than willing to provide. If he can get Tim to rely on him, he can harness that volatility simmering beneath the surface for his own purposes, rather than having it explode in his face. And well, Tim is fit. Elias would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to him, and anyway, he’s slept with people for worse reasons.

So, Elias puts his plan in motion. Early on in Tim’s time at the Institute, Elias strategically runs into him when he’s staying late, feeling vulnerable, and maybe having a bit of a breakdown. Elias is sympathetic, kind, and willing to listen as Tim spills everything about Danny, the Circus, and why he came to the Institute. Elias reveals just enough to get Tim on the hook, telling him that he’s heard of the Circus, it’s featured in statements in the past, and he’ll help Tim with his research into it. Obviously, Tim immediately wants to know everything Elias knows, but Elias tells him to go home, get some rest, and they’ll go out to dinner the next night to talk about it.

They do, and Elias tells Tim exactly what he wants to hear, what he needs to hear to see Elias the way Elias wants him to, as knowledgable but ultimately mundane, supportive, and the exact kind of authority figure Tim needs in his life. And he’s charming. He lets his eyes wander to Tim’s lips enough times for Tim to take notice. Tim’s been attracted to Elias since the initial interview, so it doesn’t take much work to coax that to the surface. And, Elias finds that Tim is pleasant enough to be around, underneath the fake smiles and forced jokes.

After they eat, after they do the pointless song-and-dance over who is going to get the check, (Elias wins that display of politeness by not-so-subtly telling Tim that he’s his boss, he can afford it), they stop on the sidewalk outside the restaurant.

“Would you like to come back to mine for a drink?” Elias asks. It’s not subtle; Tim knows exactly what he’s really asking.

Tim raises an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know if that would be appropriate,” he says, but the corner of his mouth is twitching upwards.

“Oh no, probably not,” Elias chuckles, “But I won’t tell if you won’t.” He grins.

Tim eyes him for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, why not.”

And oh, Elias is looking forward to taking him apart, to watching him cry. They’ll have to work their way up to what Elias Knows Tim needs, but Elias is patient, and he has plenty of time.

Elias pours them both a drink when they get inside his house, taking a sip of his own and using the opportunity to rake his eyes up and down Tim’s figure, the well-fitting pants showing off his ass, the shirt unbuttoned just far enough to see his clavicle and a bit of chest hair.

“Nice place,” Tim says, taking clear note of the antique furniture. “Being head of the Institute really does pay, huh?” He also takes a sip from his glass, checking Elias out in turn. Elias preens under the attention. It’s been a while since Elias has been stared at with such an avaricious gaze, and it feels good.

“Not quite as well as my home might suggest,” Elias says, “I inherited most everything here.”

“Well, that makes me feel better about my salary, then.”

Elias chuckles. “I’ll have you know, that salary is highly competitive for academia. How else would I get people to work for me?” He sips his drink.

Tim laughs. “We both know that’s not the only reason.” He takes a considering sip, “But it helps.”

A genuine smile slips onto Elias’s face. Damn, but he’s charming. Elias reaches for Tim’s hand and gently pulls him closer.

“Is this okay?” Elias asks, wanting to appear concerned about the power differential between them, “I don’t want to take advantage.”

Tim laughs. “This is not even close to the worse decision I’ve made this week.” He places a hand on Elias’s cheek. “You’re not taking advantage,” he says, softer, and Elias smiles.

#eliasweek2022 #the magnus archives #tma #elias bouchard #tim stoker #timelias #mine #my writing #tma fic

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thepromisedbride · 4 years ago

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I know everyone’s looking forward to Jonah being taken down (I am too, don’t get me wrong) but I think everyone’s underestimating what it will be like— in that I really don’t think Jon’s just going to hurry along and smite him then skip off for a better honeymoon (or to take down some bigger enemy with Jonah being completely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things).

As funny as I do think it would be, I really don’t think that Jonah’s whole “king of the ruined world” aspiration has completely fallen through.

From what I can remember, the only two people who have suggested that Jonah’s irrelevant are Callum Brodie and Simon Fairchild. Callum’s was calling Jon “The Eye Guy” (singular) and Simon’s was obviously referring to Jon as the closest to an important person that they had. I saw a few people commenting on how that meant that Jonah was irrelevant, but actually that could be explained away? Callum is like... thirteen? Fifteen? And he was trying to be insulting, so I wouldn’t put too much stock in it. Simon as well... what he said could be easily interpreted another way — Jonah doesn’t leave the Panopticon, so the others wouldn’t be seeing him? Jon’s new and fun and interesting and Simon’s spent like 200 years with Jonah? But whatever it was, in my opinion it doesn’t mean that Jonah isn’t still important.

Oliver’s statement is the one which I would say puts the most doubt, with him saying that the whole world will die. But even that is just about Jonah’s mortality, and though it puts the rest of his ambitions in doubt it doesn’t conclusively discredit that Jonah’s king.

The next thing is that it is the Eye. I feel that it really wasn’t a Web ritual (I know that lots of people like this theory, and I do too, but from what we’ve seen I don’t think the Web would give the Eye supreme power just as a trick?) so Jon and Jonah, as Eye Avatars, are likely the most powerful. So I don’t think Jon could just... smite him? I mean, for Not-Sasha and Jude and Jared etc it was because they served other powers and therefore were subservient to the Eye, at least the way I understood it. Jonah is still an Eye Avatar technically so I don’t understand why Jon would be able to have so much more power over him. (Though I saw this really good post showing exactly why Jonah’s a terrible Eye Avatar. I can’t finding so if you do lmk). I’m not saying he definitely couldn’t smite him! Just that he’s probably have to be vulnerable or taken down first, at least.

Also, and this is kind of going back to my earlier points, Jonah is still ‘king’. I don’t think the Eye would show him that result as a trick — it’s not the Web. It doesn’t deal in manipulation, it deals in truth. If it showed Jonah how to be king, I really don’t think that didn’t happen.

Basically, I think lots of people are underestimating how difficult destroying Jonah will be. And this genuinely isn’t intended as condescending or anything, I just really wanted to get it out while I had it in my mind.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonah magnus #IM SO SORRY #this is unbelievably rambling #i frantically wrote it in my notes before people finished the new ep #i’m convinced this will be disproved in like... a week. or day. ah well #to edit later #magnuspod #tma spoilers #jonathan sims #tma season 5 #long post

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toloveawarlord · 5 years ago

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Etched in Blood (Ch. 3)

Ch. 3

Pairing: Sophia x Fenrir

Tagging @plumpblueberry ^_^

The soldier escorting her to the Civic Center stopped at the bottom of the spiral staircase, giving a salute to her. “They are holding the meeting in the Garden on the rooftop.” He motioned for her to continue on.

Sophia climbed the stairs, no rush in her steps. The large door at the top opened, silently welcoming her into the revered Garden. No normal citizen could enter here without express permission. Seeing it up close held no significance to her. Rosebushes were all the same to her.

“How disgraceful to be late to an important meeting,” Jonah commented, intending his words to be a scolding. The Queen of Hearts already living up to his reputation.

One empty chair in the middle of the line of Black Army soldiers must have been left for her, as all were sitting in order of their rank that led up to the King. She never flinched under his intense gaze. “Would you like to have been the one to inform the Grant family that their son passed away on the table because I had to step away during an emergency surgery?” Her harsh question effectively silencing any other complains. Settling into the chair, Sophia could feel his ridiculous smirk.

The Jack of Hearts thoroughly enjoying this turn of events broke the awkward quiet. “How lovely to see you, Sophia.” A glint of excitement sparkled in his jade eyes.

Only he could make her skin crawl with annoyance.

“You two know each other?” Ray asked, trying to puzzle out the connection. From an outsider’s point of view, the two were an odd pair, their paths not likely to cross.

Sophia remained silent, prompting Edgar to answer in her stead. “Our families have been acquainted for a very long time, but briefly we had a dalliance in our boarding school days. It’s only natural that Sophia and I would have an intimate relationship.” His proclamation brought hushed shock all around.

Questions would arise. Each one more painstakingly irritating than the last. It would be best to put all wrong conjecture to rest.

Dull blue eyes locked on those mischievous jade ones. “Don’t give them the wrong impression. Our families have been feuding for generations. We have been rivals since we were just kids.”

“That only makes our relationship more tragically beautiful.”

Sophia rolled her eyes. Everything about Edgar was fake. He charmed those around him with calculated smiles and phony sweet words to make himself the picturesque Jack of Hearts. The Emerson’s and the Bright’s were mortal enemies. She had studied him, his family, and anything that could be used to assist in taking them down.

And here he sat, grin plastered across his lips, curing his boredom at her expense.

“I remember our time together fondly.”

Impressions were everything, but he’d gotten to her. For a brief moment, fire blazed in her eyes. Those years of childhood lessons ingrained in her very core bubbled up to the surface. If he wanted to play games, surely, she could oblige.

“It seems a conflict of interest might arise,” Jonah interjected, his voice severing the two apart.

As quickly as they had come, those dark intentions sunk back into the depths from which they had crawled out from. Sophia understood the hierarchy here. Regaining her composure, she addressed him calmly. “There will be no conflict.”

“Can we really take your word for it?”

The doctor folded her hands together on the table. “Can I take your word that no conflict of interest will arise with your own brother being in this army?” The question came down upon him as swiftly as the strike of a sword, rendering the Queen of Hearts speechless. “To clear up the embellished relationship, in my final year of high school, the two of us hooked up twice in the janitor’s closet. That’s the extent of it. Anything more would be a blatant lie.”

Edgar’s smile never faulted. “I’m devastated that you find our time together so trivial. I cherish them deeply.”

“It was not that memorable.”

“Enough, 5 of Spades. That is an order.” The King of Hearts ending the two’s quarrel.

Ray’s green eyes narrowed, words mingling in time with Sophia’s.

“I do not take orders from you.” “She does not answer to you.”

Tension around the table rose with the King’s glares growing more intense. Never had Sophia experienced so much animosity between a group. These were the ones in charge of leading the country? Of protecting the people?

“Is there a reason we’re all here besides digging into my personal history?” All she wanted was to return to the clinic. This meeting being pointless.

The King of Hearts inclined his head. “A new drug is sweeping through Cradle. Neither territory or Central Quarter has been spared. It’s turning into an epidemic, and it would seem our investigations are hitting a dead end.”

His statement snuffed out all the excitement over the new Black Army leader. Enemies or not, this issue included all who swore to protect the country. Intel was swapped, but no new leads had presented themselves. Each turn ending in failure. The drugs source remained a mystery as well as how it was being distributed throughout the town.

Sophia skimmed the pile of reports in front of her again, deep in thought. Among the stack, was a medical report. The handwriting nearly illegible, but she understood the main points. The symptoms of the drug were typical, nothing out of the ordinary for any other kind of drug abuse. “This report states that this information comes postmortem.” Sophia said, meeting the golden gaze of the Red Army doctor.

Kyle nodded his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips as a silent welcome. Their shared history to remain a secret from either army. “We’ve yet to find anyone still alive. It’s mostly speculation gained from those who witnessed the man die.”

Giving a hum as her thoughts took over again, she fell silent. A new drug could cause various problems. She dealt with plenty of patients who had been on different medications and abused them.

“Ya figure somethin’ out, Sophia?” Fenrir called, bringing her attention back up from the documents.

All eyes fell on her once again.

Turning her head to address Ray, she tapped her fingers against the papers. “I would have to check our patient files, but I may have treated someone matching these symptoms. His wife said he had tried to overdose on pain killers, but it never presented as that.”

“What makes you think that it’s this drug and not some other cause?” Sirius asked.

She gave a sigh, eyes dropping back down to the report. “Someone described this man as rabid.” Her finger traced across the scribbled words. “And the patient I treated had been foaming at the mouth. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“And he’s alive?” Kyle questioned, suddenly more interested in this investigation. His role limited by only being able to provide medical support, he could help her re-examine the man and possibly gain a new lead.

“Yes, and his records should hold his address.” It would take some time to pull the file. Maybe with the help of her coworkers, someone could remember his name. He’d been a first-time patient, probably a last resort to even come there.

Ray waited for her to finish before beginning to issue orders. “Sophia, find out what you can from this man, take Luka with you. We should begin canvassing the territories, asking about anyone having this new symptom.”

“Kyle will accompany her as well. Since we will be working together to find the source of this drug trade, having an open line of communication between our armies is pivotal. Do you disagree, young king?” Lancelot asked, though he wasn’t truly asking for permission.

She’d hadn’t the need for a bodyguard. Visiting an old patient shouldn’t cause any trouble for her. “It’s the middle of the night. I doubt anyone will be willing to talk at this hour.” The moon cast an ominous light over them.

An agreed upon time to meet in Central Quarter ended the long meeting. The unusual dispersal of the leaders intrigued her. At least this group could be civil about something. Intent on returning to the clinic for the remainder of the night, her name being called out brought her to a halt.

“Are ya headed to search for the file?” Fenrir jogged over to her, having been waiting at the fountain for her to come down.

Sophia nodded in response. “I have a shift to complete. Patients don’t stop coming simply because the moon is out.” Most nights, they did not have quite as many patients, but there was still some trickling in, and many who needed overnight care.

Fenrir broke out in a wide grin. “Mind if I join ya?”

“Why?”

Her question made the Ace of Spades start laughing, and he smacked her on the shoulder. “Because I want to escort you to make sure you make it, and ya might need some help searching for that file.” He put his hand on her lower back, pushing her to walk with him.

Fenrir chatted happily, the one-sided conversation not bothering him at all. He didn’t pry into her life, really all he talked about was the army and how excited they all were to have a new and more capable doctor. The walk back to the clinic seemed to pass quickly.

All eyes were on the man beside her, some nurses at the station nearly drooling. They introduced themselves, Fenrir greeting each one with a warm smile and booming laughter at their jokes. Unlike Edgar, Sophia thought that he genuinely exuded charm.

“My princess returns. Did you enjoy your trip to the magical Garden atop the Civic Center?” Carter rounded the corner, a stack of files in his hand. He set the on the counter, already intrigued by the Ace of Spades just a few feet away.

Sophia completely ignored him. “Kayla, can you help us locate a file? That man who came with the overdose, that was foaming at the mouth, I need his file.” It could take half the night to find the right person.

Kayla took a break from swooning over Fenrir to give Sophia a proper response. “Of course. Oh, and Sophia? He’s been asking for you. Apparently, the news of you leaving the clinic reached him.” Her voice low, as not to let anyone else hear their conversation.

Sophia sighed, but a smile fell across her lips. “He isn’t going to need to mope for long.” She stepped away from the counter, continuing down the hallway to the room at the very end. Peering inside, she found the eight-year-old fast asleep. It brought a soft smile to her lips. Sophia promised silently to tell him the good news in the morning.

The door closed quietly. Sophia moved on to the records room, opening a box of files. “Are you just going to stare at me all night?” She asked, without once looking at the person looming in the doorway. His silence prompted her to address him properly. “Kyle, you didn’t have to follow me here.”

“You can’t search all these files alone. The Ace of Spades is surrounded by nurses, and he wouldn’t know how to read a medical file anyways,” Kyle said, leaning against the doorframe. His gaze fell away from her, an awkward tension filling the space between them. “How… have you been?”

Sophia flipped open a file, but the words on the page were blurred. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

Her shoulders rose and fell under a heavy breath. “Are you?”

The two had hardly spoken in years, only in passing whenever pleasantries were exchanged. Sophia sat back on her heels, finally turning to look at him. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, seeing him rustled those buried emotions within her. “No one knows; and I want to keep it that way. Understand? We’re practically strangers—”

“I get it.” The Seven of Hearts cut her off, his expression twisted in pain from her words. “Not a soul will hear of our history. I promise, but don’t push me away.” All his attempts to reach out to her ended in failure, every letter unreturned, but still he sent them.

Sophia slid a box across the floor to him. “Make yourself useful.”

“Soph-”

“Don’t reopen that wound, Kyle. Neither of us will live through it a second time.” She silenced the other doctor with those words. Try as she might, she couldn’t forget that day. It lingered in her heart, stinging each time she gave it attention. Should the gate be opened to that fateful day, Sophia expected that she could not survive.

More good Sophia to come! It’s still up in the air who she going to end up with! Thanks for reading!

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shannie-writes · 6 years ago

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Anxiety

Word Count: 1601

Genre: Angst

Pairing(s): Edgar/Willow

Warning(s): N/A

A/N: A scene rewrite and alteration from Edgar’s route, part 14/15.

Everything was a rush of confusion and running. Willow was racing after Jonah where he dragged her to Lancelot’s office, muttering curses she couldn’t understand under his breath. Barreling into the room, the last bits of conversation between Edgar and King Lancelot sent Willow into even more confusion.

An infiltration? Enemy territory?

“Hold on! What are you talking about in here?” Jonah said, speaking for the both of them.

Edgar turned his head to face them. Both he and Lancelot’s expressions were dull, but in very different ways.

“Jonah, don’t shout. It’s late.”

“Apologies, my king.”

Willow stared at Edgar, trying to piece together the information she had just learned from Jonah not long before. There was a war about to wage. She hadn’t even heard a rumor of it before. How long had they been planning on keeping it a secret from her? Though, from Jonah’s reaction, it was only one person who had gone out of his way to do so.

“Alice.”

Willow turned her head, lifting her gaze only as high as Lancelot’s chin. “Yes, King Lancelot?”

“If you’re going to join our discussion, don’t just stand there. Take a seat on the sofa,” he said, gesturing toward the chaise a few steps away.

“Yes, King Lancelot.” She did as instructed and carefully arranged her skirts as she sat, sinking into the plush cushion.

“King Lancelot,” Edgar said, very pointedly not looking Willow’s direction. “She has nothing to do with this matter.”

She jolted her head up at the sharp words, watching Edgar’s profile as he argued with the king.

“Is the Jack of Hearts challenging the king’s judgment?”

Edgar frowned, dropping his chin similar in fashion to a child being berated by a parent. “No, I would never do that. Please forgive my impertinence.”

Jonah took a step forward, giving Edgar a glance that would have caused any other man to deflate in seconds. “King Lancelot. Regarding Willow, there’s something I’d like to verify with Edgar. It seems Edgar has been keeping news of the impending war from her.”

“Has he now?” Lancelot’s cool gaze slid over to Edgar once more. “Please explain yourself.”

“I did it because I didn’t want to worry her.”

The words fell flat, with no emotion to hold them true. Lancelot and Jonah exchanged a knowing look, but it was missed by Willow, who was still watching Edgar, trying her best to make sense of what was happening.

“Give Alice a brief summary of the current situation, Edgar.”

“Yes, sir.”

Edgar finally looked at Willow for the first time since she had entered the room. She couldn’t help the way her heart squeezed at how differently he was behaving. His eyes were cold as they settled somewhere over her head rather than her face.

“Diplomatic talks broke down the night of the full moon.” His voice was even as he spoke, sounding more like he was reading a report than talking to another person. “Since then, we have requested the Black Army’s surrender several times. But the Black Army continues to refuse. A reaction that was not unexpected. Citizens of the Central Quarter have already begun to evacuate.” His eyes glanced away from her as he finished. “The Red Army will soon issue an official declaration of war to the Black Army.”

Willow wanted to vouch for the Black Army, for the kindness they had shown her when she had first fallen to Cradle. But she bit her tongue before she could say anything. She had only known them for a few days, hardly enough time to get to know how they truly were. They hadn’t even written her a single letter in response to the handful she had sent their way.

“If they find you, you’ll be torn limb from limb.”

Swimming back from the deep sea of her thoughts, Willow couldn’t help the gasp of shock that came in reaction to Jonah’s warning. Throwing a hand over her mouth, she finally spoke. “Would they really do that, Jonah?”

Jonah huffed, settling his hand on his hip as he turned his head to look at her. “Our armies have hated each other for the past five hundred years. You’re not from here, so you wouldn’t understand. Our history has left us with deep-rooted animosity that can’t be quelled with reason alone.”

Willow wanted to say that she did understand, at least a little bit. It may not have been a war, but the gangs in the London slums acted much the same way. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Life for a life. Life for a life. She couldn’t hold back the tears that pricked at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She couldn’t let that happen to Edgar--to any of the officers. She cared about them too much and she didn’t want any of them to--

“Jonah, stop it. You’re scaring Alice.”

“You’re one to talk. Who do you think has frightened her the most? How much worry do you think your recklessness has caused Willow?”

“That’s enough,” Lancelot interrupted. “Edgar, take Alice and withdraw for now. I’ll let you know what I decide about the matter shortly.”

“Understood.” Edgar dipped his head in acknowledgement and brushed by Jonah, making his way to the door.

“Um, goodnight, King Lancelot. Queen Jonah.” Willow jumped to her feet, giving them a shallow curtsey before following Edgar to meet him in the quiet corridor, closing the office door behind her.

The semi-lit lamps cast strange forms through the hallway, their light barely enough to allow them to see each other’s face clearly. Edgar’s eyes were dark with shadows and thought as he finally looked Willow in the eyes.

“I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t have time to tell you before I left.”

Willow shook her head lightly. “It’s okay. Queen Jonah and the others took very good care of me.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

His small smile disturbed her. It wasn’t that it looked any different than his usual expression when he talked with her one-on-one, but something about it felt off. It was as though he was brushing off the entire conversation he had had with King Lancelot and Queen Jonah. One that she knew she shouldn’t have been privy to. One that she wished she hadn’t heard, if only for the fact of knowing he was so willing to put himself in danger.

“Are you sure you have to do this, Edgar?”

“Yes.”

The immediate response wasn’t what she was expecting. It was as though he already knew she was going to ask that particular question.

“Even when King Lancelot and Queen Jonah don’t want you to go?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Even though you may be torn...limb from limb?”

“That won’t happen. Don’t worry.”

The finality of his words and brushing off of her concern only upset her more. Did he really know what he was planning on doing?

“Edgar, please, listen to me.” She took his left hand in hers, holding it much like she had not so long ago. His fingers felt cold through his lambskin gloves. She ignored his stiff reaction to her touch, knowing that she had to tell him. She had to tell him why he couldn’t go. “I know you’re good at what you do and you’ve not come to mortal harm before. But I can’t help but be concerned for you. Please don’t be reckless. Please don’t go on such a dangerous mission alone. I don’t know what I’ll do if you...if you don’t come back safe--”

“Could you please leave me alone?”

Willow’s eyes widened at the change in his expression. His smile was no longer to be seen, replaced by an anger she only had one connection for. His words were sharp and the tone of his voice dropped deeper than she had ever heard him speak before. He had only said a few words, but her heart was thrumming in her chest, telling her to run, telling her to let go of his hand and get away as fast as she could.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s reckless. My one, true duty is to fight.”

He didn’t know what he was saying. He couldn’t know. He didn’t know.

“Just stay out of my life!”

He snapped his hand away from her hold and Willow’s first reaction was to step back and cover her right ear and close her eyes, ducking her head, preparing for the blow her body told her was coming.

A moment passed, barely a second, and no strike came.

She opened her eyes, meeting Edgar’s narrow gaze, doing her best not to cry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bright. It’s not my place to intrude.”

At her reaction, his eyes widened, as though making a connection she had never wanted him to make. “Alice, wait, I--”

“I’m going to bed.” Willow whispered, backing up a few more steps before turning around, nearly running down the hallway to her room.

With each pace between them, she felt sicker and sicker. Throwing herself into her room and slamming the door behind her, she sank to the floor, unable to hold back the tears any longer. Tucking her face between her raised knees, she cried until her skirts were soaked and she was too tired to think about anything. Even less about the one who had somehow become the most important person in her life.

She didn’t want him to go. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to handle it a second time, if anything were to happen to him.

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #ikerevo #edgar bright #ikemen revolution edgar #willow moore #edgar/willow #anxiety #my writing #edgar route #ikerev spoilers #ikemen revolution spoilers #edgar route spoilers #week of willow #ikerev edgar #ikerevo edgar #ikerev oc #ikemen revolution oc

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i-am-church-the-cat · 6 years ago

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Chapter 4: Maybe It’s Love

My name’s @i-am-church-the-cat and this is my fanfic, and all other fanfics...are just as good in their own right and should be respected as such *air horn blasts*

——

Jonah and Walker had pretty much mastered the art of hiding from mortals. The two boys had both had many failed relationships, neither of them catching a break. Eros had turned Walker first, but it wasn’t more than a century later that Jonah had been recruited. Walker had been Jonah’s mentor in all the messing-with-people’s-love-lives thing. They were both cautious in the beginning but after some arguments, two loud confessions, and lots of tears, they had found someone to entrust their hearts to. They didn’t really like messing with people, but something told them that this time was special. It was their friend, Cyrus, after all!

Cyrus had been working for Apollo for a little over a century when the couple had met him and his two friends. They had seemed nice, but it took a while before Buffy trusted that the to boys weren’t going to mess with their love lives, and the promised they wouldn’t! But when Walker and Jonah had seen the interaction between their friend and the handsome prince, they took it upon themselves to be the matchmakers.

So that’s why they were following the four heroes at a distance, swerving in and out of trees to keep from being seen by the younger god. It was difficult to maneuver their large wings in the dense forest, but Jonah thought he was doing a pretty good-

SNAP!

Cyrus’ head snapped around, searching for the producer of the loud sound. After a moment, he and his companions resumed their trek through the woods. Behind the wide trunks, Walker was holding Jonah to his body, pressing his wings down as he kept both of them aloft. When Walker was sure the party had gone far enough away, he let go of his boyfriend and setting them both softly on the ground. Walker looked at the younger boy and folded his wings away.

“Come on”, the older said. “Let’s walk. Don’t want to snap off another tree branch.”

“How was I supposed to know that the branch was going to be there”, Jonah grumbled, though he was given away by the small smile on his face.

Walker laughed and gave his boyfriend a quick peck on the nose. “Come on. We got to catch up.”

Cyrus was worried. He knew he could be unlucky, but if Eros or one of his agents got involved, then he had pissed off the wrong god.

When he had seen a flash of white feathers out of the corner of his eye, he likened it to a bird or paranoia.

But when he had heard that tree branch break, he knew that he was-

“Hey”, a voice said, breaking Cyrus out of his thoughts. The god turned to look at his companion, the prince smiling brightly. Cyrus promptly forgot what he was thinking about.

“Hey”, Cyrus replied, returning his smile. TJ seemed to glow. “What’s up?”

The golden-haired boy shrugged. “You seemed tense. Is everything all right?”

“Oh”, Cyrus said, surprised at the concern in TJ’s voice. “Well, the situation isn't great, but we’re fixing the problem quickly, so I say things are pretty good.”

The prince nodded in agreement. “You know, there is one good thing about all this”, TJ noted after a moment.

“Oh yeah?”

“I got to meet you”, TJ said, flashing another heart-stopping grin.

Cyrus couldn’t help the blush that dusted his cheeks as he turned back to the path in front of us. Cyrus still hated how flustered he got around cute guys, especially ones who were flirting with him. That was something that hadn’t changed once he had become a god. Cyrus was about to risk another glance at the gorgeous boy next to him when Amber and Marty came riding up beside them.

“So, Cyrus. How did you end up working for Apollo?”, Marty asked.

“Well, he was walking through my village, disguised as an old man, when I offered to feed him. He ate all my food and on a whim, turned my friends and I into gods. My friend Buffy joined the Hunters after meeting Lady Artemis, and my other friend Andi became the handmaiden to Lady Persephone.”

“And Apollo just, what? Claimed you?”, Amber asked.

“Pretty much.”

“What’s it like?”, TJ asked. “Working for the sun god?”

“Well”, Cyrus began, wondering why he was so open to talking to people he just met. Maybe it was the kinship of all being in the same prophecy. “It’s pretty cool honestly. Apollo’s usually off chasing after pretty men and women, or arguing with another god, or getting into some other form of mischief. Mostly, I just watch over humanity and take care of the Oracle, though I have a bunch of other smaller tasks.”

“Watch over the Oracle?”, Amber asked, hesitantly.

“Yeah”, Cyrus said softly, knowing this was a sore spot for her. “I take care of the Oracle when their transitioning and I’m usually there until they start taking people’s questions regularly, just to help them settle in. I’ve been the personal helper of all the Oracles for the last three hundred years.”

“How did you get that job?”

“Well, I’ve found I’m pretty good at taking care of people and advising them. The person who did it before me was glad to give it up because they had responsibilities of their own domain, while my powers are just a subunit of Apollo’s, you could say. Plus, people trust me”, Cyrus explained, proud of the honor he had. And if the last sentence was a barb at some people who might’ve been flying around trying to mettle, well, that was up to him.

—

“I did it once and it just sort...stuck”, Cyrus finished with a shrug.

Marty looked at the young god. He appeared younger than them, but he talked with the wisdom brought about by many lifetimes. Though, that seemed more like his personality than the fact that he was over three hundred years old.

Marty has never really trusted gods. Sure, they were okay, but they treated humanity the way humanity treated sheep. Something to be watched and used and sometimes used to play tricks on. He didn’t enjoy it. But Cyrus seemed like one of the better ones, and by the way TJ had talked about him, Marty could tell that the minor his already had his prince’s trust. Now this was a hard thing to accomplish. It took Marty nearly five years of fighting beside TJ to get where they were today.

Marty had been left at the palace guard station when he was two. He had been taken in by the master of the guard and her wife. Marty had seen people doubt the capabilities of his adopted mother as the captain, but Marty had learned quickly that a woman can defeat someone in a fight just as well as a man can. Sometimes even better. And the fact that she was a woman married to a woman didn’t seem to matter to the king either.

Being the adopted son of the captain of the guard meant that he was always getting into fights with the other boys in the yard. He didn’t mind a brawl, but Marty had learned how to dodge and get out of one, which was sometimes the better option. He had soon became the fastest one out there, both in running speed and the speed in which he handled his sword.

Marty had met TJ when he was sixteen. Yeah, he had seen the prince around and at feasts sometimes, but they’d never been formally introduced or anything like that. Marty had thought he was a pompous arrogant loudmouth, and he pretended to be on the surface, but it wasn’t long before Marty saw the real him, the side of himself he tried to hide away. In the beginning, it only came out when they would duel against each other, but as their missions together became more frequent and the time they spent together not training grew longer, TJ started to let Marty in more.

Now, here they were six years later, on a quest with a light god and two more expected to arrive. They were going into what may be their last battle, and TJ had trusted Marty to come along and protect him and his sister. A far cry from the two boys who had punched it out in the courtyard a year after they met.

“Hey”, TJ called out, kicking at Marty’s ankle to break him out of his reverie. He raised his eyebrows, a silent question in his eyes. Marty nodded and showed a reassuring smile. TJ still seemed a little unsure, but he turned forward where Amber and Cyrus were talking quietly in front of them. They seemed to be deep into their conversation. Marty hoped Cyrus could help the princess. She had always struggled with her gift and if Cyrus was as good as he said he is, than maybe she would become more comfortable with it.

Marty, about to be lost to his memories once more, was snapped to attention a loud roar cut through the forest. The traveling party was immediately on edge, Marty and TJ both drawing their swords. Cyrus was rigid straight, scanning the forest as if seeing something the others couldn’t. The four of them were on edge for severally heart-stopping moments. As Marty began to relax, a hellhound landed in front of them.

The hellhound has several bleeding wounds, all from different forms of attack. It had broken off arrows protruding from its hide and claw and teeth marks from wolves and birds of prey. It was easily three times the size of their horses, teeth and claws as long as Marty’s forearm. Sensing the new enemy, it turned to glare at the four of them. A low growl escaped from its maw, but before it could attack, a barrage of arrows fell on it, followed by a pack of wolves.

The animals and arrows were soon followed by a brown-haired girl who jumped on the back of the hellhound. The monster tried to buck her off, but she held on fast. She reached behind her and pulled out a dagger, careful to keep it away from herself or the wolves. Finally, she plunged the blade into the monster’s skull. The monster dropped and the girl rolled off, effectively pulling the bloodied blade from the monster’s head. The hellhound lay still and the girl slowly rise to her feet. As Marty’s eyes fell on the girl’s face, his heart stopped. She was beautiful, and for a moment, Marty just sat there in shock, wondering who could possibly be so incredible.

“Buffy!”, Cyrus exclaimed as he jumped off his horse and ran to hug her.

Oh, Marty thought. That’s who.

#andi mack #tyrus #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #fanfic #marty from the party #amber kippen #ancient greece #au #jonah beck #walker brodsky

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abnormalpsychology · 6 years ago

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The Bully (the thrilling conclusion)

[aHhHhHhhHhhHh] [im deceased and I’m scheduling these posts] [imagine the anxiety when I post them] [its 11:30 my phone is on 5% and I haven’t done my homework yet] [TYRUS HAS DESTROYED MY LIFE THANKS JOSHUA]

The kind lady had explained to T.J. what had happened and led him away. Buffy was there now, sitting next to Cyrus on the park bench. Someone had given him a water bottle. Everyone had been kind and understanding.

“Happens to the best of us, kid,” the lady had said, grinning, although not unkindly.

“Thanks,” he’d mumbled, closing his mouth.

“What the hell happened?” Buffy asked for what was probably the twentieth time.

“I told you, nothing happened, Buff. I just... fell off the swings like the clumsy idiot I am.”

“You couldn’t hang on to the swings? You really expect me to believe that?” She crosses her arms, and huffed quietly. “You don’t have to lie about it.”

“I’m sorry, I—“

“I know, you didn’t want me to get mad. It’s fine, Cyrus. We don’t pick our… soulmates. Although I’d like to think that maybe the universe made a mistake this time.”

“Because… he has weird hair?”

“Because it’s T.J.!” Buffy shouted, then threw her head into her hands and groaned for a long time. “My mortal enemy! The bane of my existence! Your future husband!”

“Oh.” That was certainly… a thought.

“I don’t care who you like, Cyrus. I’m happy as long as you’re happy. This… this will just take me a little while. But I will… think about it. And try very hard to be happy for you.”

“I’m sorry for lying.”

“Yeah, you should be. But I get it. I can be difficult.”

“Understatement of the century.”

“Oh, shut up! Just because you hit a life milestone doesn’t mean you get an automatic noogie pass, Goodman!”

“I…”

He gulped, tears returning quick to his eyes as he stared at Buffy. Gently, like a person handling a baby animal, she took his shaking hand.

“Hey. What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to have to talk to him. He’ll… he’s gonna think I’m a lame little nerd! He’ll never like me. This is really bad timing; I just got used to the whole Jonah thing, and now—“

He went quiet. She smiled reassuringly in that way that always made Cyrus want to cry from how good a friend she was.

“Cyrus. Again. Because you seem to keep needing to hear this— you’ve always been weird, but you’re no different. And I won’t treat you that way because of T.J. Maybe you’re right, about… about soulmates getting better. About changing. One thing I know for sure? This day is going to pass, and it’ll all be okay.”

He smiled tearfully and hugged his best friend as hard as he could, not wanting to let go.

“I love you.”

“Awww, stop being all mushy on me,” she laughed. “It’s what any friend would do.”

“Also that was two things.”

“Stop ruining your moment... I love you too.”

They stayed like that for a while, both processing everything that had just occurred. Cyrus was okay. If he had Andi and Buffy to get him through this, it was going to be okay. He had a whole future ahead of him. It was inevitable, yes, but it was also all going to be just fine. He was going to be so happy.

“Thanks, Buff,” he said, pulling away. “I think I have some explaining I have to do.”

“You aren’t the only one,” Buffy sighed, looking past over his shoulder to the park.

And there was T.J., sitting alone on the bench opposite the playground, keeping the same cautious distance he’d held at the beginning. The smile was gone. Cyrus and Buffy watched him for a second, thinking about how differently they both saw the same kid. How different he must feel, too.

“I’m gonna tell I’m secretly Spider-Man,” Cyrus whispered, breaking the tense silence. “That’s why I glow; the radiation. Not because we’re destined to be together or anything.”

Buffy broke off her laughter to shoot him a toothy grin. “I’ll kill that boy if he messes with you.”

“I thought you already had plans to kill off T.J.”

“That would be why this right here is so difficult, yep. Exactly that.”

He smiled. “He really isn’t so bad. You should sing him the Swing Song. That’s how he ended up touching me— an underdog.”

“But you hate heights?”

“But… T.J. doesn’t. I was trying something. He made feel a little less afraid.”

Buffy stared at him.

“What?”

“You’ve just… never said that before.”

“Because I never tried.” Cyrus shrugged.

“Hmm.”

“Yeah.”

“Go get him, then.”

“Buffy!” His face promptly turned into a raspberry. “Stop that!”

She smiled as she got up from the bench. “Text me if he tries anything shifty. I love you, C.G.”

“What, so I tell you a secret and get a cool nickname now?”

“Nope, just this once. It’s a special occasion. Your parents are gonna throw a party.”

“Ugh,” he groaned. They probably were going to make a huge fuss when he told all four of them, which is why most kids didn’t tell their parents when their marks glowed. That was a decision he didn’t want to consider right now. “Bye, Slayer. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

She disappeared down the path, past the swingset, heading in the direction of the Spoon. Now Cyrus had another fun conversation he had to have, he thought as he proceeded in the opposite direction.

“Hey.”

T.J. looked up, eyes wide and expression of concern stretched across his face. The kind woman must have not told him everything— he still seemed to think he was injured terribly. This was going to be fun.

“Cyrus, hi. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m totally fine. Actually, I know why that whole weird thing happened over there. I’m not actually hurt.”

“Oh, good. I… I thought I might have done something on accident there for a little bit.” He smiled faintly. “You scared me, Underdog.”

“Two nicknames in one day, wow,” Cyrus muttered to himself. “You really get some cool stuff when you meet your soulm—“

OH NO.

HE’D SAID IT.

And now T.J. was watching him frantically try to stammer his way out, to take back the words not at all presented in the careful, all-feelings-considered manner he was going to say them with. It had all gone wrong.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, no! It’s okay! It’s fine! I knew already!”

“What?”

“W-when you, uh, fell and I was trying to keep you from dying or whatever, that was kinda stupid of me—“

“Keeping me from dying is not a stupid thing, T.J.!” Cyrus laughed. “I would much prefer that to the alternative!”

“Well, um. Not. Sorry then.”

“It’s fine, you don’t need to apologize for anything.”

They stared at each other for a second, both shell-shocked by all of the weird bonding rituals they’d been forced through today. If anyone had told Cyrus that this was how his day was going to go, he would have never believed it.

“Just when… you pushed me off, because you were fine—“

“I’m sorry—“

“No, no, you’re-you’re good. You just touched my hand… and it lit up too.”

“Oh.” They both looked at the intricately lined handprint on T.J.’s palm, now thankfully just tinted darker then normal skin instead of the bright, toxic-waste color the glowing had been earlier. It really wasn’t that bad, actually— it was a green that reminded Cyrus of tea, plants, and calm things. It reminded him of relief from worries, moments when he felt like things really weren’t so bad. Moments like now.

“So, yeah. I didn’t know I was gay, actually,” T.J. told him, rubbing his neck. “I… just thought I’d eventually like girls. Like a phase… that had lasted my whole childhood and life. But it never happened. I guess it never will.”

“Wow.”

“I actually have a crush on another guy,” Cyrus blurted, scratching his neck nervously. “I know that’s probably awful to say right now, but I do.”

“That’s not a problem, Cyrus.”

“Really?”

“Nah, no way. I’m not gonna, like, propose on the first day we meet.” T.J. laughed, face red. “This is so weird. Not you, just… all this.”

“I can definitely get how finding out this way would be weird.”

“I hope you don’t… hate me now.”

“Why would I hate you?”

“Well, there’s Buffy and I’s whole thing. And then this on top of it? Not exactly a recipe for the best friendship.”

“True,” Cyrus said, nodding professionally. “But don’t forget that you got me a muffin. Don’t underestimate the muffin, T.J.”

The two boys smiled at one another, the bully and the nerd. Soulmates. Swinging buddies. Friends.

Maybe this was a terrible way to meet. Maybe it was the most uncomfortable way ever. But, sitting there, something profound and epiphany-like occurred to Cyrus Goldman for the first time in his life; maybe the Universe knew what it was doing.

#my fanfic #andi mack gift exchange #andi mack #ajjknnk #sorry for the tag spam guys

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911jason · 2 years ago

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Ranger’s sacrifice helped save lives . Sergeant Thomas R. MacPherson made a rational decision in the most irrational of situations, sacrificing his life to save his brothers in 2nd Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment. . During a nighttime firefight in Ghazni Province, Afghanistan on Oct. 12, MacPherson was leading an assault against an enemy position when he was shot in the chest. To keep his comrades from coming to him and getting caught in the crossfire, he radioed that he had been hit in the leg — still a serious injury, but one that by combat standards wouldn’t have required immediate attention. . That is the story his wife of three years, Claudia MacPherson, told mourners through tear-filled eyes at a memorial service for her husband at 2-75 Rngr. headquarters on Joint Base Lewis McChord last week. The couple has a 19-month-old, Brayden. . Describing the immense love and support she has felt from MacPherson’s unit and other military spouses, she spoke directly to her husband. . “I know that if you were here today, just like me, you would find it hard to put into words how to let everyone of them know how much they mean to us,” she said. “It may appear that our Family of three is now a Family of two, but sweet Tommy, our Family has never been bigger than it is today. In no way have you left us alone.” . Known fondly as “Sergeant Mac,” MacPherson, 26, was on his fifth combat deployment — his fourth to Afghanistan. According to Sgt. 1st Class Steven Galvez, MacPherson was at the front of the unit patrol on the night of the firefight that left him mortally wounded. . “To be up front, that’s something big,” Galvez said. “That’s saying something when we know you’re going to take us there and back.” . Sergeant Jonah Herd served with MacPherson for five years but within the last 18 months, developed a close friendship with him. Herd received the initial call from MacPherson that he had been injured and described MacPherson as calm and relaxed. . “If he had told me he had been hit in the chest, I would have moved (to him),” Herd said. #TommyMac #RLTW https://www.instagram.com/p/CjoyEA_sb2c/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#tommymac #rltw

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provincianx-blog · 6 years ago

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what i learned from unlearning everything that i know

lessons from middle school, aurora, and beyond.

at the age of fifteen, my mom forced my brother and me to leave our home in hayward, ca upon discovering that my dad had been using meth again and wasting all of his money on catfishes on the internet.

my mom and dad had been separated for longer than my brother and I were aware of, but my mom finally had the courage to really leave him in july of 2011. she loved him her entire life, but she was done taking care of someone that wasn’t taking care of her. she was done taking care of someone who didn’t love her enough to take care of himself. she was done.

while this seems incredibly simple, leaving hayward prompted what would turn into a 7 year identity crisis.

as an outcast at every school i transferred to, i found a community on this website with my best friends from middle school and random strangers who loved harry potter and other fandoms as ridiculously as we did. true commitment to friendship would transcend from anonymous messages on tumblr to mutual follows on twitter. and here we are: in the age of twitter.

upon switching up different meds, after over a decade of looking for mental and emotional stability, i found out that i have bipolar-1, which still doesn’t make that much sense to me, but i’m beginning to understand it more than i did before.

i’m grateful to have been obsessed with star wars when i first saw revenge of the sith on opening night because of my tita and her husband’s work perks. i loved padme and she was my first crush but also my first example of a strong girl in mainstream film in addition to mulan (bruh i used my mulan costume for like 3 years and never gave a single HECK). i would then beg my dad to take me to blockbuster to watch the original trilogy, where i met carrie fisher/princess leia, who would radically transform how i saw the world and myself.

i grew up with my tita and tito. they took care of me when they were in college, and they’re still taking care of me now. i want to be able to take care of their kids and love them as much as they loved me growing up. i love them with all that i am and all that i can give.

i studied politics because i wanted to make sure that my younger cousins and my baby brother would have a better world to grow up in than i did. it seems that my undiagnosed mental illness of nearly 14 years has been exacerbated by the political climate we live in today in 2018.

i learned so much about life by learning about my own history, and i hope that everyone has this opportunity in their lifetime. it feels great, and the only one who seems to really get it is ariana grande.

so here are 14 things i learned from being mentally ill and emo while being passionate about wanting to make the world a better and more habitable place.

1. don’t trust the feds: a lot of 2nd amendment boys actually don’t trust the government as much as people think, and the 2A comes from settlers’ distrust in colonial Britain. the problems we see today are because the GOP has lured these same people and their kids (and their kids) into their corner by advocating for organizations like the NRA; gun control has reached the Supreme Court, but the 2nd amendment took precedent (i believe). gun control must come from the state and local governments, but political participation in these arenas are very low, especially for younger voters. i, as someone who has been involuntarily hospitalized despite voluntarily seeking medical help, am not allowed to buy a gun in the state of california for 5 years. and honestly, i really don’t care because i don’t want to need a gun anyway, but the poor and the middle class in the south feels that they need guns.

2. stay woke: deray said this nearly everyday after michael brown was shot by darren wilson in ferguson, missouri. michael brown was my wake up call to reassess my complacency in the status quo and my participation in reinforcing anti-blackness. in the bay area, the n word was used so casually in places like union city/hayward that we became so desensitized to it. it’s still used casually, but non-black people like myself have no agency in saying it because we’re not black. it’s as simple as that. i began noticing how my family reacted to what would turn into the Black Lives Matter movement, and for the first time, i felt that i could no longer trust my relatives if they were complicit in the murders of black youth simply because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time. i couldn’t even talk to them without crying because of how upset i got from the anti-blackness i would hear. i began to isolate myself and found community on twitter.

3. our youth is a reflection of how good things were and how good things can become if we learn to build community: in addition to the community i found on tumblr through avatar, harry potter, and the beatles, i found community with all the losers who had xbox’s instead of ps3′s. we would hang out and play search and destroy (which i still cannot succeed in after all this time smh agjhgarhdfhre) or 1v1 each other on rust. my nerd friends would let my brother and I play with them regardless of how much we sucked, and they hyped me up even when my KDR was trash. these friendships would then transcend from mw2, halo 3, and into runescape. my brother is now really good at overwatch, and the friends i made in middle school are also really good at overwatch. the difference now is that they’re making money off of it, and i’m just like, “let’s get this bread, nerds!” thank you for being there for me even though i sucked at everything i tried doing. i was reminded of this when i watched “mid90s” by Jonah Hill. our youth was such a pure period of time, but it was also the time we lost ourselves through imposing harmful social norms onto each other, such as the idea that a girl cannot be “just friends” with a boy. but - here’s the kicker - i’m queer, and i don’t really like cis-het men hahahahahahahahaha but whatever.

4. becoming american made me forget who i am: our immigrant parents teach us that the only way is to assimilate into white America, which is essentially what happened to black and brown people following the civil rights movement. the notion of egalitarianism/equality has been nothing but harmful for all of us nonetheless, fueling debates on affirmative action and pitting black people against asian people. one of my best friends from elementary school is in prison for trying to make a living with the resources and skills made available to him. he was apprehended in thousand oaks. he is a black man, and we grew up in the same environment, but his life has been so different since we were in elementary school. the concept of equality/egalitarianism stemming from civil war gains (13th-15th amendments) has manifested into the racial inequality we see today; in other words, the idea that white americans and POC are equal has been harmful because this has never been true and continues to be untrue. my filipino friends and i would get bullied by white latinos for not speaking english in america, which is why i learned to hate myself and my culture. i love myself and my culture, and i am fighting so that i can return home to the philippines someday.

5. our bodies are different, and that’s okay: can y’all believe that i got bullied for not having boobs in the 3rd grade? this is what happens when young girls are sexualized so early. boys participate in this, and they turn out to be shitty boyfriends later on. girls will be girls. girls just wanna be treated like human beings instead of sexual objects. i don’t think this needs to be explained further.

6. america is a settler-colonial state turned global power, and that is problematic: this country began with the murders and deaths of indigenous people because of imperalistic pursuits. it was built on the backs of slave labor from africa. it was reinforced by colonialism through the conquering of countries such as the philippines. we’re socialized to believe that there’s no place like america and that america is such a good place to be in, but that is only true for white Americans and POC who have integrated into white American suburbs.

7. know history, know self: - jose rizal

8. if my life wasn’t funny, it would just be true, and that is unacceptable - carrie f. fisher

9. at times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of - carrie f. fisher

10. rebellions are built on hope - princess/general leia organa + jyn erso

11. we have nothing to lose but our chains - assata shakur

12. keep ya head up - tupac shakur

13. everything i’m not made me everything i am - kanye west

14. i remember you was conflicted

misusing your influence

sometimes i did the same

abusing my power full of resentment

resentment that turned into a deep depression

found myself screaming in the hotel room

i didn’t wanna self destruct

the evils of lucy was all around me

so i went running for answers

until i came home

but that didn’t stop survivor’s guilt

going back and forth trying to convince myself the stripes i earned

or maybe how a-1 my foundation was

but while my loved ones was fighting the continuous war back in the city

i was entering a new one

a war that was based on apartheid and discrimination

made me wanna go back to the city and tell the homies what i learned

the word was respect

just because you wore a different gang color than mine’s

doesn’t mean i can’t respect you as a black man

forgetting all the pain and hurt we caused each other in these streets

if i respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing us

but i don’t know, i’m no mortal man

- kendrick lamar

#star wars #fandoms #reflection #politics #writing

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atalana · 4 years ago

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here is everything i know about the show at large:

i actually do know things about the fear entities, this is the one part of the show i could pass a trivia quiz on bc i think they're neat

doors????? (the prequel)

doors lead to the apocalypse??

(the true enemy was architecture all along)

jonmartin, one sided enemies to lovers

i don't know if martin is aware of this

jon(ny) sims (both of them) said ace rights!!

entire archive, all sided enemies to enemies

it's just a bunch of people who hate each other trapped in a building together and sometimes there's reality bending and sometimes there's worms

i'm continually impressed by how much beautiful soft angst art i see of worm lady

only the tma fandom could make art of a lady with worms coming out of her skin and when you see it you want to hug her

my crimes in really enjoying the mortal instruments series as a young teen will forever haunt me every time i have to see the name simon fairchild

i don't know anything about this character, but, i can never think of anything else!

tape recoooorrrddeeerrrrssss

jon was in a coma at one point

i don't know how or why this happened or how he got better but there sure was angst!

there is an old lady named gertrude robinson and people are afraid of her

i don't know why

i know elias is the evil dude

i'm pretty sure peter lukas and jonah magnus are two different characters but i honestly do not know the difference between them

jurgen leitner??????? (i'll be honest it took me several weeks of memes on this guy to realise he was a character in the show and not a joke someone made up and i'm still not 100% sure he's real)

it is surprisingly easy to buy an axe in central london

helen spiral lady is so valid

there used to be a different spiral guy (michael?) but he's gone now and i don't know what happened to him

everyone keeps turning into avatars of fear entities

i know jon and elias are beholding, martin is lonely, and i'm pretty sure basira is the only normal person left? but other than them and the spiral people i don't know what entity anyone is

that one tumblr post about spine stealing is still the funniest thing i've ever read

being someone who's never listened to tma in a friend group full of tma fans and also in fandom spaces entirely full of tma fans is so entertaining, especially now y'all are getting into the endgame

like, here's a complete list of things i've passively absorbed about s5 while understanding none of it:

we all know this story is not going to end well and we are all ignoring it

jonathan sims real world creator of character jonathan sims continually surprised by the existence of monster fuckers

CEASELESS WATCHER TURN YOUR GAZE UPON THIS WRETCHED THING

a carnival was somewhere around here i think

jon is more monstery and Does Not Like It

eyessssss 👀👀👁👁

martin does some cool shit? is more badass than everyone expected? is just the only moral character left in the show? is no longer a moral character left in the show? i'll be honest i have no idea what's up with him this season but you lot sure seem to love it

elias stealth email (this may just be a recent meme im not sure)

helen weird hands rainbow lady is very encouraging of the gays and also the apocalypses

i have no idea which parts of this season take place in normal world uk and which parts take place in The Apocalypse

im pretty sure some parts take place in the spiral

i do not know if the spiral and The Apocalypse are two separate places

doors??????

#tma #the magnus archives

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clockworkopera · 7 years ago

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Theories on Cortana...

A few weeks ago I referenced this quote in an earlier post about Edom: When they arrived in the mirrored city of a destroyed Alicante Alec tells them Edom’s story (COHF 482-483): “They didn’t have seraph blades; they hadn’t developed them. It doesn’t look like they had Iron Sisters or Silent Brothers, either. They had blacksmiths, and they developed some sort of weapon, something they thought might help them.”

BLACKSMITHS !!!

Theory: If Isabelle’s ruby pendant was made from the same material as the Skeptron and found its way into this dimension, then could the reason Cortana (and other Wayland swords) be different is because it was forged by the Nephilim of Edom.

Note: As far as we know no Great Swords have been forged since Wayland the Smith. I know that the Iron Sisters work with Adamas, but it seems they don’t know the secrets of the Great Swords, for wouldn’t they make them like the Family rings if they did? Each family having its own sword?

This is a favorite theory of mine, so it goes first, but there are other considerations:

There are two things I want answers to the most about Cortana.

1) What does it mean when Cortana strikes something like the Black Volume of the Dead or the Mortal Sword and her hand and body go numb with electrified pain?

2) What does it mean when a Rider of Mannan makes the statement: “It is yet only one blade.”

So begins my journey…

Let’s go over what we know of Cortana:

-It’s been in the Carstairs family for generations. It belonged to Jonah Carstairs (Jem Carstairs’ father) and Will Herondale refused it as a gift from Jonah’s brother Elias after Jem became a Silent Brother. The inscription on the blade reads: “My name is Cortana, of the same steel and temper as Joyeuse and Durendal.” Cordelia became a wielder, instead of her older brother Alastair, “Because to an extent, Cortana chooses who it wants to be with. Believe me, Alastair isn’t initially pleased!” Cassandra Clare revealed answering questions on Tumblr. Also: On the Angel feather in the hilt: It is a big part of what gives Cortana it’s special powers and is the reason Cortana is able to do something in LoS no other sword has ever done. AND, That sword has magic badass powers we can only begin to comprehend. Gwyn also refers to it as one of the Great Swords. It eventually came to John Carstairs, Emma’s father and finally to her.

It’s history says it was forged by Wayland the Smith, and once belonged to Tristan and Ogier the Dane and is also according to Emma’s mother in a dream, LM (pg532): “And remember that a blade made by Wayland the Smith can cut anything.”

When Emma found out about her parents death she cradled the Sword, slicing her arm open, bloodying it and leaving a fierce scar on her inner arm. She used it to fight and protect the Blackthorns in the Accords Hall during the Dark War. In her battle with Malcolm, Emma struck the heart of the Black Volume with Cortana(LMpg596-7): She shrieked with pain as what felt like a bolt of electricity went up her arm. AND: Red pain misted behind her eyelids. Through the fog, she saw Malcolm standing over her. “Oh, that was precious.” He grinned. “That was amazing. That was the hand of God, Emma!”

----------------

My own take is that Emma and Cortana have a symbiotic relationship and have in a way become extensions of each other. My original theory was Cortana was tied to the power of the Black Volume and Emma is the only one who can now wield that magic. I had a wonderfully written piece that got hacked with red ink today when Cassie told us more about Cortana in her Tumblr: “Cortana…doesn’t absorb the power of what it strikes. We’ve certainly never seen it do that and it’s not part of the sword’s mythology.”

So maybe the big take away is that 1) Emma can cut through, hack away things of major magic (Black book, Mortal Sword and the Rider) and 2) Live through it

*** If Cortana shattered the Mortal Sword, then what did it do to the Black Volume? Is the magic of the Black Volume now fractured somehow? And what would that mean to the effectiveness of any spell used?

And what the hell was that black sap oozing from the Mortal Sword? What was that about? I have no ideas on that! (I digress)

But if Emma and Cortana have a symbiotic relationship while the sword may retain no residual connection to the energy it’s destroyed, could Emma herself? I think this might be important because Magnus warned Julian that Annabel is connected to the magic of the book, and I still wonder if Emma somehow isn’t too.

The other question that has been bugging me: What does it mean when a Rider of Mannan makes the statement: “It is yet only one blade.”

Does it mean that they can melt it down and make a whole bunch more ‘Great Swords’ with it, or does it mean it might get reunited with the other swords of it same steel and temper? “My name is Cortana, of the same steel and temper as Joyeuse and Durendal.” So, I set myself the task of doing and old fashioned sort of book report. I don’t know how much historical relevance Cassie plans on weaving into her books, if any at all—but the history is interesting, especially Durendal. Kit needs Durendal!

I’m leaning toward the ideas of the Riders knowing of a time, or a prophecy where all three blades will be united again in battle. I think that is something they fear.

Cortana’s Mythological History:

In the Mundane world, our world, Cortana does exist, both in mythology and in reality. It currently resides as a Crown Jewel and is used in inaugural ceremonies of the British Crown. Its mythological history is long.

It first comes to attention in the story of Tristan and Isolde and their story takes place in Cornwall. Tristan came to live with his Uncle Mark who was the King of Cornwall and in an effort to prove himself worthy, stood as the King’s champion. In battle, Tristan saved the king from paying tribute to an Irish King by killing his foe and it was during this fight with Cortana that the tip broke off. (This is the first reference to Cortana breaking and the legend behind why the tip of Cortana is missing from the actual Crown Jewel Sword)

After Tristan died the sword was bequeathed to Ogier the Dane, a paladin of Charlemagne.

This goes back to the Legends of Charlemagne, because the inscription of Cortana was taken right out of Bulfinch’s Mythology— “My name is Cortana, of the same steel and temper as Joyeuse and Durendal.”

All three swords were used in Charlemagne’s Campaigns. Charlemagne was Emperor of Rome who united and basically founded the Frankish state (what eventually becomes modern Europe) and brought Christianity to Europe.

The story that Arthur was referring to (and this is from Bulfinch, because I found too many versions to include) was that Ogier’s son was killed by Charlemagne’s psychopathic son Charlot. Charlemagne refused to punish his son (this is from Bulfinch’s, but the next part comes from the book, The Crown Jewels— I didn’t have access to it, so this is reported from Wikipedia): “When Ogier was about to slay the son of Charlemagne, (for revenge) an angel appeared and knocked it out of his hand, breaking the tip and exclaiming “Mercy is better than revenge.” From then on Cortana was known as the Sword of Mercy.

It also happens the other swords of Joyeuse and Durendal were with Charlemagne’s campaign as well.

Joyeuse is the Legendary Sword of Charlemagne. It is said to have been “So bright that it could outshine the sun and blind its wielder’s enemies in battle” (Ancient-Origins.net)

There are a lot of legends including: it was forged to contain the Lance of Longinus, it was smithed from same materials as Cortana and Durendal or that it was given as a gift from an angel.

The real Joyeuse was moved to the Louvre in 1792.

Durendal was no slouch either. The sword belonged to Roland another paladin of Charlemagne. He used the sword to hold off 100,000 Saracens (by himself) long enough for Charlemagne to retreat in an epic battle. Wikipedia: “The Song of Roland, the sword is said to contain within its golden hilt a tooth of Saint Peter, blood of Basil of Caesarea, hair of Saint Denis, and a piece of the raiment of Mary, mother of Jesus, and to be the sharpest sword in all existence.” Fearing the sword would fall into enemy hands Roland tried to destroy it but it couldn’t be destroyed. “After being mortally wounded, Roland hid it beneath his body as he lay dying.” The folklore says it still exists, embedded in a cliff walls in the Pyrenees, but it has never been found.

***I read that, and I thought—WOW! We need to find that sword for Kit!

Everyone petition CC that Kit needs Durendal!!

There are a lot of references and agreement that Durendal was forged by Wayland the Smith. So, while neither Cortana or Joyeuse are referenced to him being their creator, if you follow the clue of the inscription that is the connection. If he made one, then didn’t he make them all?

WHOA! Did you know Wayland the Smith was a true mythological character?

This is where it gets interesting.

Wayland the Smith is from Norse Mythology. Legend said he and his two brothers lived with three Valkyries. In one version, he married his Swan Maiden Valkyrie.

I bring this up because Gwyn mentioned the daughters of Rhiannon, the Valkyrie as almost a counterpart to the Wild Hunt—at least that was my impression, and they are wild magic. And when Cassie talked about wild magic in relation to Kieran’s eyes she said in her tumble post: “Wild magic kind of does what it does without being bound by too many rules.” So if Cortana is made with parts of that magic maybe that is why it seems to have a mind of its own, at least in who it picks for its wielders.

I am hoping that in the Last Hours Cordelia will learn more about Cortana’s history. How it came to be in possession of the Carstairs family, what other history with the Shadowhunters it has, and maybe give us some clues about what else might be possible with Emma for the QoaAD.

Please add comments, I love hearing what other people think!

#Cortana #lord of shadows #kit needs durendal #wayland the smith #dark artifices #cassandra clare #lord of shadows theories #edom #theories #dialogues #TDA #original post

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panswaywardmuses · 7 years ago

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Chatzy Summary: Both families ban together to rescue Amelia and Ashlyn from their kidnappers, setting a trap for them. But it does not go down without causalities, and consequences that changes the course of both families.

Bryan pulled into the abandoned warehouse on the docks that the O'Sheas owned, the location decided on for the exchange. There was nothing else around, no people to overhear what was about to happen. He felt calm, though his mind was whirling with the possibilities. Everything had to go perfectly, not just for the girls' lives, but for all of them. Both families were coming in with everything they had, both Bosses and Underbosses would be there. It was dangerous, and if things went wrong there was a lot to risk. But it was the only way, and Bryan was confident that Lucia would keep her side of the truce. He parked outside in the lot, then turned to look at Liam, their eyes meeting. "Are we ready?" he asked, his voice even and calm, his head cool for once.

Liam had trusted Bryan in making this whole thing happen, well him and Lucia, and although he'd never fully trust the Winters he knew they had just as much as stake here as the O'Shea's did. All he was concerned with was getting both the girls back unharmed. Bonus if all the rest of them got away from this unharmed as well. Every other worry Liam currently had was out of his head, completely focused on this one moment. Looking over at Bryan once the question was asked he nodded his head. "We don't have much of a choice." He said reaching to open up the door, his eyes wandering around as he stepped out of the car shutting the door.

Aidan got out of the car. His nerves were radiating through his body. He trusted Bryan not to make the wrong decision about teaming up with the Winters but at this rate he was willing to do everything and anything he could to get Ash back even if she wanted nothing to do with him. He glanced down at his feet once they touched the ground, his eyes moving around after that to check their surroundings. He glanced over at Liam and Bryan, inhaling at the words between them. He turned his head to see the Winters car pulling up. "Here comes the Winters."

Lucia pulled up to the warehouse, her hand moved the car into park as she exhaled. Her head turned to her Mikey, moving her hand out to his shoulder. "Look at me." She said softly, waiting for his head to turn. She wasn't surprised her mother didn't want to ride with the three of them, she knew the whole way here her mother would try to control the situation. "You need to keep your calm. The second you let your anger get in the middle of this it could ruin everything. Don't make me leave you in the car." She turned her head back towards Frankie, giving him a simple look. These two men were her most trusted, these men were her men. She called the each of them for the biggest things and there was no one else she wanted by her side. She got out of the car, looking over the hood of her car at Bryan and Liam, nodding her head once. She shut the door and walked around her car to make her way over to the other three men.

Mikey sat in the passenger seat, his good leg bouncing up and down, a nervous tic. The impending notion of meeting the people who had done this, who had taken his girl and put all this in motion, was filling him with hate and anger. He wanted nothing more than to tear them all apart, and it was a feeling he'd never experienced before. His only other kill had been Amelia's stalker, and that had been kill or be killed. This time, he was more than ready. He looked over to Lucia when she demanded his attention and he took a breath to steady himself. He knew that she would have preferred to leave him behind, he was injured and he was a liability. She meant it when she said she'd make him stay in the car. "I'm okay. I'm with you," he assured her. He had to be there, he had to see Amelia with his own eyes, he had to protect her. He got out, leaning on the car door and his good leg before turning to Frankie. His crutch was in the back seat. "Gimme that fucking thing," he said, frustrated by it.

Frankie could only imagine how wrong this whole thing was going to go, not that he was going to say that. His mind automatically went to the worst case scenario since that was usually how it played out for him. His eyes looked around the warehouse from backseat, sitting directly in the middle of the two passenger seats. When Lucia spoke to Mikey telling him to keep his cool, he didn't entirely believe Mikey would be able to. Only because if it was his girl, well, some people had already seen how he handled that. "Are you sure you're going to be alright with just one good leg right now?" He questioned, stepping out of the car pulling out the crutch afterwards to hand it to Mikey looking over when another car approached, so obvious on whose it was.

Mikey looked over at Frankie, taking the crutch and leaning on it. "I don't have a choice, man," he grumbled. There was no way he was sitting this one out, he would push through the pain. "You got my back, right?"

Frankie nodded his head glancing back at Mikey. "Always." He responded, now waiting for Estelle to step out.

When Estelle received the phone call from her daughter, she was livid. Teaming up with the O'Sheas. What the hell was she thinking? Not to mention, her other children. Mariana galavanting around with some joke of a man and then Amelia getting herself captured. Thank god for the other two. Henry was trying to calm her down, telling her that Lucia did have this under control, but the older woman refused to believe it. Why would her daughter make a deal with these idiots? Why would she truce with their mortal enemy? When the car finally arrived to some hell hole the Irish decided to meet at, she told Henry to remain in the car. He was rather nice eye candy. Such a shame he preferred her daughter over her. Getting out, she made her way over, looking at the others. "Well? Do we know when they are arriving? I'd like to get this over with, quickly." Looking at Mikey, she let out a sigh before looking at her daughter. "He's the best you can do? Send him back. My daughter's life will not be risked because of a cripple."

Lucia turned her head seeing a car pull up. She glanced over at Liam and Bryan. "I apologize now." She muttered as her attention turned towards the car. She watched her mother get out of the car, seeing Henry in the back. She shouldn't have been surprised that she brought Henry with her but once she saw the car door shut she pressed her lips together. She parted her lips to say something but she turned to Mikey and started to talk. She put her hand up to stop her. "How about you do the world a favor and shut the fuck up?" She forced a smile on her face. "Mikey is here because he loves your daughter. You don't like it. You don't need to be here." She turned to see another car rolling up. "Alright, ready people?"

Liam's eyes wandered over the other faces, noticing Mikey and the state he was in. He wanted to say something but decided against it, he wasn't one of his men after all. Watching as the other car came up Liam slid his hands into his pockets. He glanced over at Lucia when she apologized, arching a brow in curiosity. He looked over when Estelle stepped out, watching her criticize within five seconds of being there which only reminded him of someone, causing a bitter taste in his mouth. Glancing over when another car came up he took a deep breath. "You two can have a family squabble at home, we have business to attend to now." He stepped ahead when Lucia asked if they were ready, answering the question without a word.

Estelle pressed her lips together as Lucia spoke. If there weren't people around, she would've gotten slapped for her comments. "I'm here because I want to get Amelia back. I do not care who she has affairs with. I want competent people," she hissed at her before smiling fakely at everyone else. When Liam spoke, however, she immediately lowered her gaze. "Ugh. Another one. Fine. We'll stick to business. Do any of you have a plan?"

Ashlyn sat in the back of a van, a cloth bag over her head and her wrists tied together with a zip tie. She couldn't see where they were going, and she assumed the reason was so she couldn't later find a way to escape from where ever they were holding her. Jonah had told them that their families had chosen to release Amelia for the cash, and Ashlyn understood why. But she knew how hard it was going to be to see them so close, just to be pulled away again until the rest of the money was wired. In the back seat, her hands held onto Amelia's, who was in the same position next to her. When the van pulled to a stop, he heart started pounding in fear. The sliding door was opened and she was dragged out. Jonah growled at them both, "Be smart, and both of you will make it out of this." Her bare feet stepped onto the gravel, having left her heels behind in the house, since still being in a dress was bad enough. Someone grabbed her by the elbow and made her walk forward, in front of the car but not far, so her family could see her but there was still distance between them. Then the bag was yanked off her head and she blinked in the sudden light, before her eyes adjusted and she took in the sight of her brothers and Aidan, with the Winters entourage right next to them.

Amelia was petrified. Yes, she was the one being released, according to Jonah, but it didn't feel right. Her heart was racing a mile a minute and it didn't help that they were bound again and had a bag over her head. Seriously? A bag? Along with the adrenaline rushing through her body, she could feel herself becoming dizzy and tired again. She squeezed Ashlyn's hands, not wanting her to be left behind. She shouldn't be left behind. When they arrived, she growled a little at Jonah's words, but ultimately complied. She felt someone grab her by the arm, leading her over to wherever they wanted her to be. When the bag was off her head, the paleness and sweat was now evident for the others to see. Her eyes immediately noticed Mikey on a crutch, making her want to lecture him. Then, she saw her sister and Frankie. Of course, what surprised her the most was her mother.

Aidan saw the van pull up, his hands were at his side curled into fists. He took a step forward once he heard the van door opening. He had ignored everything else going around him, his mind was on seeing Ashlyn and Ashlyn only. He had been furious to think they were going to let Amelia be the first one released but he understood. He did. Even though he was on edge about it. He saw her, her head was covered with a bag which made him take a few steps closer. "You son of a bitch," He said as his eyes moved to Ashlyn. He wanted to make a run to her but he knew he would get in trouble. "Untie her."

Bryan, for once, wasn't the one to lose his temper. At the sight of Ashlyn, he was immediately relieved that she seemed okay. Tired and weak, but okay. When Aidan stepped forward, Bryan could feel the anger in him. He put a hand on the kid's shoulder to keep him in check. Across the lot, Jonah chuckled at Aidan's command. "Do you forget that she's the one we're taking back with us? She's just here to show you that she is alive and well. We won't be untying her." Laughing, he shoved Ashlyn into the hands of one of his goons.

Mikey's heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he first saw Amelia. The hand on his crutch tightened until his knuckles were white, but he stayed where he was next to Lucia and Frankie. When the bag was taken off her head, he could tell that something was wrong. She looked sick, and he would have given anything to go to her. But this was a balancing act, and he knew everything had to go as planned or it could go horribly wrong. "Mel, it's okay," he called across to her, meeting her eyes. His other hand went to his hip, where his gun was holstered, and he waited.

Lucia held her half of the money in a bag, her feet took a couple steps as she turned her head towards Bryan. "We got your money." She tossed her bag out towards Jonah as her eyes lifted up towards him. "Give me my sister." She said in a stern tone, waiting for the right time to distract him so they could grab Ashlyn too.

Jonah looked back at the two girls by the van, making sure they weren't trying anything. He turned when Lucia threw her bag of money in the middle, then he looked at the Irish. "I still need your half," he said, walking forward to get the first bag. "And we're counting it all before you get your little ballerina back." He reached down to pick up the first bag.

Ashlyn watched, holding her breath as Liam stepped forward with the bag. This might be the last she saw of him, of any of them, for a while since she knew her captors were just going to take her back with them. The man who had been holding her elbow let go of her, his hand hovering over his gun as Jonah went forward. Ashlyn's eyes flicked over to him, then back to Liam as he heard his words. The second he used their code, with her childhood nickname, her eyes went wide. She grabbed Amelia's hands even though they were both still tied up, and she tugged her towards the ground with her, knowing bullets were about to start flying but careful not to let Amelia hit the ground on her stomach, going onto their knees first. Not giving her a chance to protest, Ashlyn covered Amelia's back with her own body, draping herself over her and then covering her own head with her arms as the sound of gunshots went off.

Lucia was expecting Bryan to be the one to pull the trigger but when Liam stepped up and did it, it should have shocked her but it didn't. Her hand went for her gun to start shooting. Aidan brought up his gun and started to fire as well, trying to make his way towards Ashlyn.

A few of the remaining men on Jonah's side moved to the other side of the van, ducking behind the open door for cover while the ones up front got hit and went down. Amelia felt herself start to swoon before Ashlyn tackled her. By time they both hit the ground, she had passed out. Estelle grabbed her own gun, hiding under her blazer as soon as the first shot was fired. This was their plan? She began to shoot, noticing someone heading right for Lucia. In a moment of intense motherly love, she pushed her daughter out of the way, taking the bullet in the heart herself.

Mikey's gun was out the second the first shot went off. He would have made a run for Amelia, through the criss cross of fire, if he hadn't been on one leg. Instead he aimed carefully and took out one of the guys who had been running towards the girls to grab them and get them back into the van to take off. His shot hit home and the guy went down to the sounds of one of the girls screaming nearby.

Lucia was focusing on one of the guys closet to the girls she didn't see the man coming up from behind her. She turned to look at Mikey, seeing how he was doing when all of a sudden she was pushed aside. She tried to keep herself on her feet but the person who had pushed her had enough strength to take her down. She fell down, hearing a gun fire near her. Her head turned over to the guy who shot the gun, bringing her gun up to shoot him, seeing how it him right in the chest. Her head turned to see who had pushed her. Her mother. She parted her lips to say something but she noticed the pool of blood coming out of her. "No," she muttered, moving herself into a crawling position to crawl towards her. "No no no." She said, moving her mother's upper half towards her. "Estelle." She said, giving her a bit of a shake. "Come on, don't do this."

When all hell broke loose, Bryan's response was instant. He got a few shots off, taking out some of them while the rest dived behind the car door. The return fire from behind the door came fast, and Bryan knew they were vulnerable. Liam, meanwhile, was still standing there stunned in the face of his first kill. Bryan grabbed his brother's wrist and dragged him back into the doorway of the warehouse, the distance enough to keep them out of the range of the bullets. Bryan reached up for a second to touch Liam, hand curling behind the back of his head. "Stay with me, man."

Her head turned back to find Frankie. Lucia couldn't handle something like this right now as horrible as it sounded to leave your mother's dead body to someone else. "Frankie!" She called out to him. She waited for him to acknowledge her before she got up and ran towards Amelia.

Liam's entire body went numb after the shot had been fired and the body dropped. He stared at it, not in shock from a dead body in his sight but that it was that way because of him, for the first time. As the place erupted around him with bullets flying everywhere he almost zoned it all out until Bryan came up and pulled him back. His eyes focused on Bryan when he was forced to look at him, nodding his head. "I'm good." He said, motioning for Bryan to go and do what he did best.

Frankie's gun was out the second all the shots started going flying around, dropping a body himself but when Lucia called out to him his eyes went to her first, then they found Estelle. "Shit." He muttered to himself, running over. "I got her!" He told Lucia, motioning for her to go as he got down to the ground.

Seeing Lucia make a run for the girls, Bryan pulled Liam back and stepped in front of him, raising his gun again. He gave Lucia cover, making sure no one got to her while she ran for Ashlyn and Amelia. The one left behind the car door was still firing at them and Bryan got one last shot off, shattering the glass over him but he had ducked and didn't get hit. He was out, and stepped back again to reload his gun.

Aidan turned his head over towards Bryan to see him handling the mess with Liam. He knew he had to run for it. He lifted up his gun and started to fire as he made his way across the distance between the two cars. He slid himself next to Ashlyn, moving his arm around her and tucking one underneath Amelia. "Hey hey, I got you." He whispered into Ashlyn's ear. Lucia in that moment hadn't cared about protecting herself to get to Amelia but when her head looked back she noticed that Bryan was covering her. She turned back and slid in the dirt, crawling her way over to Amelia. "Melly," she whispered, looking at Ashlyn. "I don't know how to thank you."

Mikey gritted his teeth when Frankie moved towards Estelle and Lucia and Aidan took off for the girls. There was one guy left, behind the door, and Bryan was out of bullets. Mikey dropped his crutch and moved, grimacing through the pain and running anyway, until he was in eyeline. The guy was focused on Bryan, he didn't see it coming when Mikey put a bullet in his head from the side.

Ashlyn looked up when Aidan appeared next to her, but she refused to leave Amelia unprotected until Lucia came over to her. She just nodded at Lucia's words, too scared to talk until the shooting finally came to an end. All of a sudden, it was over. She turned to Aidan, tears running down her face as she moved into his arms and clung to him.

Amelia came to a little when she felt a little more weight on her. "Luce," she whispered, eyes blurry as she tried to focus. The world was spinning again as she tried to reach out for her sister, instead, turning onto her side to throw up the sandwich she had ate earlier. She then collapsed again, the world went black again.

Mikey limped as fast as he could around the car and over to them, his stitches pulled open and the wound in his leg bleeding through his jeans, but he didn't care. He skidded to a halt and fell to his knees next to Lucia, his hands moving to Amelia's face. "Mellie, hey, stay with me babe..."

Aidan slid his arms around Ashlyn, inhaling her scent. He pulled her closer to him, slowly helping her get up off the ground, knowing all the guys were down around them. He pulled back a little, not realizing how tight he had been holding onto her. "Go get your brothers." He whispered, moving his hands to her face and pressing his lips against her forehead. Lucia looked at Amelia, taking a hold of her hair, knowing she was going to vomit. "It's okay, babygirl. I'm here." She whispered, turning her attention towards Frankie who was holding her dead mother... their dead mother. She turned her head quickly towards Mikey when he came over. "Get her to doctor." She said softly. "I gotta get Estelle."

Mikey looked up at Lucia when she told him to get her to the hospital, his heart pounding in fear. His hands moved from Amelia's face to gently lift her up and stand with her, the weight making his leg a searing pain. "Come on, baby, we're getting out of here," he murmured as he started towards Estelle's car, not caring that she couldn't hear him. "Henry!" he yelled for him to get the back door open. "Hospital, now!"

Ashlyn's gripped Aidan's shirt in her fists, tears streaking her face when his lips touched her forehead. She looked up into his eyes and nodded, still speechless but so glad to see him. She nodded and took in a shaky breath, letting him help her to her feet. Then she ran, barefoot, across the gravel and threw herself into Liam's arms, crying harder.

Henry hated having to sit back and watch this entire thing go down. He had begged Estelle to let him go out there and protect her. He had years of experience with guns and protecting others, but the eldest Winters had told him no. She didn't need her confidant to be in any sort of fire, so here he sat. Watched her get killed protecting Lucia. Lucia... he was snapped out of his daze when he saw Mikey hobbling towards him with a lifeless Amelia, immediately getting out of the car to grab her from him and place her into the back seat. "I got you two," he told Mikey before getting back into the driver's seat and driving off as fast as he could.

Once the bullets stopped flying around, Liam didn't notice anything else, just looking to find Ashlyn. Seeing her with Aidan he let out a breath of relief. Then when she made her way over to him he threw the gun aside, wrapping his arms around her instantly, one hand moving to the back of her head. "You're okay. You're safe now." He mumbled holding onto her, looking over at Bryan.

Ashlyn was up on her toes, her arms wrapped tightly around Liam's neck, her sobs starting to calm down at the sound of his voice. She buried her face in his shoulder. Bryan caught Liam's eye and went over to them, wrapping one arm around Liam and one around Ashlyn, holding onto both of them as relief flooded through him. He leaned down to press a kiss to Ashlyn's head, and she murmured, "I love you guys so much."

Lucia sat there, watching Mikey pick up Amelia and take her way. She couldn't bring herself to move her legs after that, her head turning to look over at Frankie once again. She pushed herself up after a couple minutes, ignoring the O'Shea's family reunion that was happening. She sat down across from Frankie, looking down at Estelle. Her fingers moved over to her eyes, closing them slowly. She moved her arms out to take her mother into her arms, looking down at her. She risked her life to save Lucia. Even her own father didn't do that when she was shot all those years ago. She swallowed, looking up at Frankie. "Find something to wrap her in." She kept her eyes on him. "Go." She knew Frankie probably didn't want to leave to go do something so small but Lucia knew she needed a moment. Just one little moment.

Bryan pulled away from the two of them, leaving Ashlyn in Liam's arms. He watched Lucia with her mother, the reality hitting him. Everything was going to change, and despite how Lucia may have felt about her, she just lost her mother. Bryan let her have a few moments of peace to herself, waiting until Lucia stood up before he went over to her. "I'm so sorry," he said, meaning it. "What can I do?" Bryan didn't know what Lucia might need from him at this point, but he wanted to at least offer to make this was easy for her as he could, on his end. As far as he was concerned, the truce still held.

Lucia inhaled, looking down at her mother. "Fuck," she said softly. "What am I gonna tell Matty?" She glided her tongue along her lower lip. In that moment, that was her one concern, her little brother and his already rocky path. One thing after another this year and this could push him over the edge. Her head lifted up once she heard Bryan's voice. She wanted to stand but she still couldn't feel her legs. "I don't know if there is anything but keep the deal we had. Truce." She whispered. "No more blood shed. No more fighting. A truce." She said as her eyes lifted up towards him. "If you are still okay with that."

Bryan looked down at Lucia, knowing partly what it felt like, but this was different. Desmond had died by Bryan's own hand, while Estelle had jumped in front of a bullet to save Lucia. Still, the grief would hit her hard, when she let it. But there was still work to be done first, and Bryan understood that more than anyone. "Lucia," he said, calling her by her first name and not Winters or some joking nickname for the first time in all their dealings together. He reached a hand down to her, helping her to her feet gently, then set his hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. "Yes," he said, not consulting Liam, just agreeing. After all this, how could any of them want to go to war and lose even more? "The truce stands." He gave her shoulder a little squeeze. "Listen to me. You're in charge now." He knew that she had to hear it, let it sink in. "You got this. We'll figure the rest out between us, create territories or whatever we have to do to make a peace work. But we WILL make it work. I've still got your back. Alright?"

Lucia looked at him in a slight awe when he called her by her first name. She reached up and took his hand, standing up. She glanced down at feet, rubbing her hands against the jeans she was wearing. Her head lifting up towards him when he said the word yes. She nodded her head a little, wanting to find the right words to thank him to say something other than stand there like a complete fool. She ran her eyes over his face once he started to tell her how she was in charge which made her stand a little more. "Yeah," she said, moving her hands to his shoulders as well. "I am honestly speechless, um, thank you." She said softly, glancing behind him to see Frankie coming towards her with a blanket. "Take your family home, Bryan. I'll call you when things settle down on my end." She took a step closer, wrapping her arms around him to give him a quick hug. She moved back, pressing her lips together awkwardly as she walked past him to talk to Frankie.

For the first time in his life, Bryan was looking forward to peace, instead of chaos. He had always thrived in chaos, in war, because that was how his father raised him. But they had lost too much, on both sides, to still be at each other's necks all the time. It wasn't worth it. Bryan smiled softly at her, seeing Lucia as a partner in what was to come, instead of an enemy. "We're in this together," he said again. He was shocked when she moved to hug him, as brief as it was, and he squeezed her back for a moment before they parted. He nodded at her, in respect and understanding, then turned to get his family and take them home.

#{ verse: above the law }#{ chatzy }#//TOO MANY CHARACTERS TO TAG #//I LOVE YOU ALL THIS WAS AMAZING #//GO TEAM

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godslonelycinephile · 8 years ago

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Review - Logan

Those who know me know I don’t usually review superhero films, because honestly what’s the point? Those films are going to make disgusting amounts of money regardless of whatever is written about them. They have become, for better or worse, critic-proof. People are going to pay to see them even if they suck. I’ve only reviewed three superhero films up to this point. I’ve only felt compelled to write about them when they are either vomitous affronts to cinema (Man of Steel and The Amazing Spider-Man 2) or if they really surprised me with just how great they were (The Wolverine - James Mangold’s other superhero film, hey!). I’m not trying to hate, I love plenty of these films, but I watch them and know that they don’t need my help to find an audience. Logan is a rare thing of beauty in a saturated genre, a character driven search for empathy and mortality. It’s a reminder that these X-Men films can really be incredible if given to creative filmmakers who actually care about the material - (Matthew Vaughn resurrected the franchise with his fantastic First Class, and Mangold resurrected the character of Logan with The Wolverine) - and also aren’t named Bryan Singer.

Logan finds our titular character in an alternate, near-dystopic 2029 where mutants have been eradicated from society either by natural causes or by governmental task forces. Logan ekes out a living driving a limo under an alias, and taking care of a quasi-senile, dying Charles Xavier south of the border in secret. Laura, a young mutant child ends up in their care, and the three embark on a cross-country mission to evade a shadowy government organization hunting Laura.

James Mangold has always been superb at hopping genres and making the best of them. Every musical biopic since 2005 has had to answer to Walk the Line, and like I said before, his The Wolverine is such a wonderful surprise. 3:10 to Yuma remains, a decade later, one of the finest modern westerns. Even though he’s had many successful films, there’s just something about him that makes me feel like we severely undervalue him. Perhaps it’s his workmanlike, egoless manner of filmmaking that allows him to fade in the crowd of directors - he just makes it look so easy. But regardless, let’s give the man some praise, he’s a filmmaker that knows what he’s doing. He takes a character that seemingly can’t die and injects mortality and humanity into him. He made the action sequences in The Wolverine really gnarly for a PG-13 film, and earns the freedom of the R rating in Logan with how visceral and bloody he shoots his action scenes. There’s just something inherently great about watching Jackman slice through enemies, with Mangold framing in even and clean takes, but this film is just as repelled by its violence. There’s a lot of titillating decapitation done by our hero, but after each encounter Jackman and Mangold remind us how much all this death continues to erode Logan. This film draws a lot of inspiration, the most explicit reference being to the classic western Shane. At a certain point in the film I realized, “Oh my god, they’re remaking Children of Men with X-Men!” And you know what? It worked! Mangold achieves that feeling of a dour existence and the battle of trying to find hope in a world that can’t be fixed. Mangold cherry picks aspects from other films and comics, creating something wholly original - a rare feeling in a superhero film.

Hugh Jackman as the Wolverine is perhaps the greatest act of casting in a superhero film of all time. (J.K. Simmons as J. Jonah Jameson is the only other contender for the top spot) He just seems to understand the character and what makes him tick in a way nobody else theoretically could have. Even with the ensemble nature of many of the X-Men films, they all just seemed to gravitate towards him, he justifiably overtook each film. Let me put how great he is in the role this way - the only reason I’ve seen the awful X-Men Origins: Wolverine as many times as I have is because of how much I like watching Jackman in the role. He’s a different beast than we’ve seen before in Logan, a man who’s lived entire lifetimes ready to be done with it all. He wears the weight of all his killing in his limping walk. He’s a man out of reasons to live, done searching for hope in a world devoid of it. It’s magnificent work, and a terrific sendoff for a guy we’ve been watching play this character for 15 years.

Patrick Stewart definitely slides somewhere in the 3-5 spot in the superhero casting power rankings. He almost just felt born to play this character, it just seemed so natural for him, as if the amiability and humility of Charles Xavier was a mere extension of who Stewart is. Logan is not just a goodbye for Jackman, but for Stewart as well, and does his legacy justice. I’m of the opinion that child actors can make or break your film, and Dafne Keen definitely makes this one. Keen doesn’t talk for at least half the film, but she doesn’t have to to get you to gravitate towards her. She’s immediately a force of nature, having entire conversations with other characters with a single glare or fist clench. As much as this is Jackman’s film, it’s hers too. She more than holds her own against veterans like Jackman and Stewart.

There’s some great character actors to round out the cast. Boyd Holbrook is one of those actors I’m glad never became a leading man, because although he’s got the chops and the looks, he’s just so much better as a role player like he is here as Pierce, leader of the task force chasing them. There’s just something so slimy about him, yet he manages to make these villian traits authentic and immediate. Stephen Merchant takes a small role a long way. They actually take C-Level mutant character Caliban, who is typically only used as a plot device due to his ability to track mutants - and make him interesting! He’s gotten religious, trying to atone for all the mutants he helped the government track down and kill, and Merchant just sells you on his life of regret. Richard E. Grant always delivers, especially in slimy character like his, the doctor in charge of the experiments that created X-23/Laura.

Marco Beltrami is one of those composers that will do mediocre work for a good 3-5 years and then whip out something amazing to surprise you just because he can. His scores for 3:10 to Yuma and Snowpiercer are some of the most memorable of this century. Logan is his latest surprise, a violent, thrashing yet altogether somber work in how he dissects traditional western and superhero themes into something torn apart and incomplete.

Logan is a rare thing of beauty. In more ways than one it also works as an antithesis to the superhero film. The standard is to have all these young and hot people in the title roles, there’s always just a sexy sheen to it all. There’s not an ounce of that in Logan, and I’m so thankful for it. Logan is worn down, addicted to booze and pills. His skin doesn’t heal like it used to, he’s covered in scars and half-healed wounds, walking with a limp. Charles Xavier is losing his mind in old age, and having seizures that cause everyone in a football field radius to have a seizure too. Mangold takes his time with his film, allowing plenty of room for quiet character moments, not rushing to get to the next action scene. His film is about people, the fact that it’s titled Logan infers such. It’s about getting to the core humanity of this character, of seeing the ugly with the pretty. One of the great things about Logan is that it has a rare sense of finality flowing through it. This is the end, which is incredibly rare in a genre where each film’s purpose has become to only get you into the next film, a greedy revolving door. How refreshing is it, at this point, to not have a scene after the credits teasing the next film? Sometimes the only way forward is to say goodbye.

#Reviews #Logan #James Mangold #Hugh Jackman #Patrick Stewart #Dafne Keen #Marco Beltrami #Richard E. Grant #Boyd Holbrook #Stephen Merchant

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theresnourieandme · 5 years ago

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Cyrus would have never wanted to spend his Friday afternoon like that, not even for all the gold in the world. Despite this, there he was, sat on the improvised stage of the impending school play, with a notebook in one hand and a worn and chewed pencil in the other, sighing and looking for non-existent ideas for the script. In addition, he would've had someone else's help for the soundtracks, and not knowing who his assistant would have been made him nervous. And if he would've been that Reed from his Spanish class? I mean, he could play the drums, so he was a likely candidate. Perhaps it would've been okay, perhaps it would have been Gus his helper, with which he got along very well, or even Marty, Buffy's friend, with which he had talked only once but found cool.

He heard some steps in the room and raised his head, only to be in front of TJ Kippen, the captain of the basketball team and Buffy's mortal enemy no less. Cyrus had never liked him much, and for a good reason: in addition to being a though guy and a bully and to waste his favourite muffins every damn Wednesday, TJ had been found to be a very bad student – he never paid attention – and a very bas classmate too – once TJ threw him a ball of paper like he'd been a basket or, worst, a trash can.

As soon as he saw him, TJ shook his head no too. «Don't tell me we have to work together on the school play.»

Just as Cyrus was about to answer, the art professor came in and put his hand on TJ’s right shoulder. He was a short, bald little man, with tiny glasses on his nose and really terrible sweaters. «So, guys. I know you know each other because you take some classes together, including mine. Cyrus, I picked you because you have brilliant ideas, and the English teacher assured me you have a way with words. TJ, Reed told me that you can play the piano, even if he was just trying to make fun of you; I think it’s great and you’re gonna help Cyrus with music and sound effects. A team personally selected by me will take care of the stage design once you’re done, so for now it’s just the two of you. I leave you alone, I trust you.» He stopped talking for a second and looked at them one by one very seriously. «Don’t screw up» he said. He slapped TJ on the back and walked out of the empty room.

Cyrus and TJ looked at each other bewildered for a moment, then the blond sighed and sat next to him, even if at least half a metre away. «I don’t like you, Goodman, I won’t lie» he began by looking into his eyes. «But this school play is important for a person dear to me, so I’m not going to ruin it. Do you understand?»

Cyrus nodded. «The same goes for me» he lied. «Let’s get to work.»

After a few hours of quiet work, in which Cyrus finally found the plot for the play and began to write the first scene under the supervision of TJ, which had become much closer to him now, the two decided to take a break. They took two or three snacks from the vending machine, and they sat down on the stage, even though it was pretty low.

Cyrus decided to start the conversation. «So Kippen, what do you do in your free time besides playing basketball and targeting people?»

He shrugged his shoulders. «I go out with friends.»

«Reed and Lester?» Out of the corner of his eye he saw TJ nodding silently. «From what the professor said earlier, it doesn’t seem to me that they behave much like friends.»

TJ bit his lower lip. «Yeah. You’re friends with Buffy Driscoll, right? The basketball team’s new shooting guard.»

Cyrus nodded vigorously. «And also with Andi Mack and Jonah Beck, I don’t know if you know them.»

«Jonah and I have known each other since we were little, even if we don’t get along very well, while I know Andi because I saw you together at the Spoon and her masterpieces plaster the art room.» TJ looked at him for a second, glancing at him in a way that Cyrus had never seen on his face before he returned to turn his full attention to the chips in the bag he was holding.

Cyrus nodded. «Yeah, Andi’s pretty good at art. I think the professor asked her to help with the scenography.» He hesitated a moment before biting his lip and looking at TJ and averting his gaze before meeting the other’s eyes. «I didn’t know you could play the piano» he said, just to change the subject.

«My parents are musicians, so they kind of forced me to play an instrument» TJ replied. He snagged his chips and finished the bag, and Cyrus thought the sight of him licking his fingers was disgusting. «How come you write the script?»

Before answering, Cyrus noticed that TJ was not at all what he thought he was: he was serene and answered his questions seriously and without teasing him, oddly. «I would like to write a film, one day, even though I have already read my own writing to Bex, Andi’s mom, and it didn’t go too well.»

«Why?» TJ asked, his eyebrows furrowed, his arms folded quietly and his voice curious but concerned. Was he interested in him?

Cyrus shrugged his shoulders. «I think too much time travel. It was too complicated and there were too many things to remember.»

TJ chuckled for the first time since he entered the room and since they knew each other. «A kind of "Back to the Future"?»

Cyrus was astonished for a moment that someone like TJ – so selfish and uncultured, would dare say – knew such a nerdy movie. He recovered himself soon after, forcing a smile. «Yes, but much worse.»

The other smiled and looked for his gaze. Cyrus lost himself for a moment in his green eyes, too beautiful to be those of a boy like him. «I’d like to read it, if you don’t mind.»

Cyrus smiled without a thought, even though he wondered what he was doing. Maybe that day wasn’t particularly productive for writing the script for the play, or for the composition of the soundtracks, but surely TJ didn’t seem so dickhead anymore. «Maybe one day.»

@tjskipping hope you enjoy!

tyrus au where they both dislike each other but have to look past that when they're assigned to work together on the script and soundtrack for their school's play

#andi mack #tyrus #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #tyrus fanfic #theresnourieandme ff

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romancatholicreflections · 7 years ago

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11th Oct >> Daily Reflection/Commentary on Today’s First Reading (Jonah 4:1-11) for Roman Catholics on Wednesday of the Twenty-Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

Commentary on Jonah 4:1-11

After having single-handedly (with some help from the Lord, of course) converted a city of 120,000 people from the king downwards, one would have thought that Jonah would have been filled with a wonderful sense of achievement. At best, he would have thanked and praised God for his wonderful works; at the least, he would have been patting himself on the back for being such an effective prophet.

Instead, we find him in a foul humour and very angry. He is angry that God could have compassion on a longstanding enemy of Israel, one who had caused great suffering to God’s people. God’s goodness should be shown only to Israelites, not to Gentiles and certainly not to Assyrians.

His self-righteous world has been turned upside down. As a devout Hebrew, one of God’s chosen and a prophet to boot, he has regarded all unbelieving Gentiles as deserving only of God’s fiercest punishments. That was why he did not want to have anything to do with them; that was why he wanted to flee as far from them as he could get.

He is very disappointed in his God but attributes it to God’s basic weakness. “Please, Yahweh, isn’t this what I said would happen when I was still in my own country? That is why I first tried to flee to Tarshish, since I knew you were a tender, compassionate God, slow to anger, rich in faithful love, who relents about inflicting disaster.” This description of Yahweh is one which God himself gave to Moses (Exod 34:6-7) at Sinai and becomes a formula repeated more than once in the Old Testament. God’s gentle patience is in strong contrast to Jonah’s anger.

“So now, Yahweh, please take my life, for I might as well be dead as go on living.” To Jonah, God’s mercy to the Ninevites means an end to Israel’s favoured standing with him. Jonah shortly before has rejoiced in his deliverance from death in the sea, but now that the pagan and sinful Nineveh lives, in anger and frustration he prefers to die. But Yahweh asks, “Are you right to be angry?” He is angry because God has not treated the Ninevites the way Jonah thinks they deserve.

Jonah then leaves the city and sits down to the east of the city where he makes a shelter for himself. He wants to see what is going to happen to the city. He expects and hopes that a terrible destruction is going to come down on it. After all, at the beginning of the story God had said how angry he was with the Ninevites.

His shelter does not seem to have been very effective because Yahweh God then ordains that a castor-oil plant should grow up over Jonah to give shade for his head and soothe his bad humour. This is the first of three occasions in the paragraph where something happens because Yahweh “ordains” it.

Jonah is delighted with the shelter the castor-oil plant provides. A castor oil plant is a shrub growing over 4 metres high with large, shady leaves. God graciously increases the comfort of his stubbornly defiant prophet. Jonah sees no contradiction between God being kind to him, when he disobeys Yahweh, and his being kind to the Ninevites who have promised to give up their sinful ways and disobedience.

But, just when Jonah is enjoying the shade of the tree, God “ordains” that it should be attacked by a worm which causes the tree to wither. On top of that, Yahweh further “ordains” that there should be a scorching east wind blowing in from the desert. Without shelter and under the blazing sun, Jonah feels absolutely miserable: “I might as well be dead as to go on living.”

God then quietly asks Jonah, “Are you right to be angry about the castor-oil plant?” Jonah replies, “I have every right to be angry, mortally angry!” But it is now time for Jonah to learn his lesson. The message is clear. Everything is God’s doing. He is the ultimate Lord. He gives and he takes away. And he gives and takes to whomever he will – Jew or Gentile.

Jonah has got all worked up over a tree which, without any effort on his part, appeared overnight and just as quickly disappeared. Why should Yahweh, then, not be concerned for Nineveh, a city of 120,000 people, “who cannot tell their right hand from their left”, not to mention the animals.

Jonah can only see wilfully wicked people but Yahweh sees a people, who, like small children, need a father’s gentle compassion to point them in the right direction.

The message of the story is clear. It says that God’s compassion reaches out to every single person. Jonah, representing a certain class of Israelite, whom we see later in the Gospel, could not extend God’s compassion to the Gentile. Jonah and his countrymen traditionally rejoiced in God’s special mercies to Israel but wished only his wrath on their enemies. God here rebukes such hardness and proclaims his own graciousness.

In the story, God takes compassion on Jonah, when he is thrown into the stormy sea, on Nineveh which repented of its sin and even on the prophet in his moment of self-pity. At the end, Yahweh explains with gentle irony how his solicitude extends even to the animals – how much more then to men, women and children, “who cannot tell their right hand from their left”. The story thus prepares the way for the Gospel: God IS Love (cf. 1 John 4).

And this is the lesson of the whole book. It is a lesson in tolerance. It is a lesson that others besides God’s chosen people can be forgiven their sin, that they can repent of their sin, that they can be open to the influence of God and do good things.

In this book we are very close to the spirit of the New Testament where Jesus comes to save and not to condemn. The first Christians were all Jews and it came as something of a surprise to them that Gentiles could receive and respond to the Spirit of Jesus just as well as they could.

Jonah is a book attacking narrow-minded bigotry and sectarianism. As such its message is still all too relevant in a world where cynics say that the world would be better off without religions which are the source of so much suffering, violence and divisiveness. Let us remove all bigotry and intolerance from our Christian lives. Let us rejoice to see the Spirit working in other people and be happy to work with them to bring about the Kingdom.

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