#<- woe! have your son offer to open up

[beingofthestars]

oh! kid, if youre referring to wanting a plush? i can absolutely make that happen. is there any specific kind youd like? i mean, im assuming you want a fox one, but do you want a small one, a big one, weighted, just filled with fuzz, all those fun details. its nice to have things you dont really need sometimes. also? of course im nice. i wouldnt dream of being rude to you.

xe made xis own cup.. though xe made it iced coffee and it probably has enough sugar to kill a cow so. can you really call it coffee?

hm? of course you can. whatever you want to talk about, im always here for you, my star.

[Hai moon! I offer up your son! His hair seems to be a mess. His eyes are puffy, and his cheeks are probably stained from crying so much! Also, this time? He's not in his usual suit attire. Sure, he still has slacks? But Sly seemingly has Joe's shirt on their shoulders! His voice is probably cracked. He is… A mess.]

 

"I just wanted to check in with you. Hha. If.. it’s a bad time I can come back later.-“

@ask-steven-stevenson

hi steven! you are currently in xis sisters house! xis sister isnt here at the moment, however, so its just you n moon. xe steps forward, attempting to reach out before hesitantly folding xis hands to xis chest. xe looks concerned.

hi! hello, kiddo! nonono, its never a bad time for you to visit! is something up?

[idyllic-affections]

HIII so this might be an odd request,,, mayhaps i ask for kaveh with an older step sibling (since his mom remarried i think).,, i think kaveh would be a little awkward interacting with them at first but they got along in the long run!! esp when they update him about his mom and never really makes him uncomfortable, or always doesn't force a conversation!! he respects his ideals and supports his passion!!

but the main idea was they go to sumeru one day to visit kaveh (they've been informing him thru letters) and accidentally finds out that he's buried under crippling debt and flat out broke!! i think kaveh would feel so ahasmed of himself but!! his older sibling doesn't judge n is very understanding!! helps him with his burdens (if kaveh allows them), maybe recommend his architectural skills to their friends in fontaine!!

idk i just really like the idea of kaveh having an older family member that he could rely on because he really just deserves nice things yk ���🥺 even tho they're just step siblings, they feel like true family!!

anyways feel free to ignore this!! have a nice day/night and take ur time!! 💖💖

the blending of two families.

summary. not all step-siblings are like the cruel ones in the fairytales.

trigger & content warnings. references to death and grief. spoilers for kaveh's backstory.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, comfort, slight angst. kaveh & older step-sibling!reader. 1k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. THIS REQ IS LITERALLY SO CUTE WHATSJSGJF??????? i have Feelings about kaveh's mom and they are NOT good ones but i'll be nice to her for the sake of this piece........ /lh i did this in brainrot format because i wanted SOO badly to get this one done relatively quickly this req invaded my brain like a song that gets stuck in your head

kaveh first meets his older step-sibling at his mother's wedding.

he's... happy for her, he really is. or he's trying to be, at least. she deserves nothing but the best. what kind of son would he be if he wanted her to live her life wallowing in grief and sorrow? she's hardly ever done anything to hurt him, and if she ever did, it was unknowingly. he could neved wish anything bad upon her. she simply does not deserve those things. therefore, he's doing his best to be happy for her.

a part of him, however, still misses his father.

a part of him��� well, who is he kidding? the entirety of his being still suffers under the weight of grief and guilt caused by the circumstances surrounding his father's death.

he doesn't even know the man his mother has chosen to marry, really. kaveh absolutely does not feel like she is betraying him or his father whatsoever, but... he does wish that he had gotten to know this man a little bit better before having to trust that he would not wound his mother's scarred heart.

the architect doesn't engage with the other guests much. it's unlike him, really, but he finds that he can't muster up the strength and charisma to talk with people beyond simple pleasantries. he keeps to himself for the most part.

still, he doesn't dare dampen the atmosphere with his woes, so when another person approaches him, he offers his warmest smile.

"sorry, i hope you don't mind me asking..." this stranger smiles politely at him. it puts his mind at ease a little. "is the bride your mother? you look an awful lot like her."

"oh, i—" he stammeers inelegantly, then clears his throat. "yes. i am her son, kaveh."

they smile again.

"hello kaveh. i'm [name], the groom's child."

"oh. oh! i am so sorry, i had no idea!"

"it's alright, really. you mind if i stick around for a while?"

and kaveh finds that he doesn't. he doesn't mind at all.

the architect has been known to be loose-lipped about his troubles; that in and of itself is part of the reason why he spent the night withdrawn from the celebration. he had no intention of being open about his troubles, and yet...

his step-sibling had the sort of face that made him want to rant, and rant he did.

"i can understand that," they mused thoughtfully, kind eyes observing his expression closely. "it's complicated. grief is never easy. i get it."

initially, they were the one lingering around kaveh, but by the end of the night, the tables have certainly turned. he is practically attached at their hip.

he finds that their understanding presence ended up raising his low spirits.

a few days later, kaveh has to return to sumeru—he does have responsibilities, after all—but he's a bit sad about it! they're, of course, there to reassure him that they plan on visiting someday soon. maybe he can show them around? the prospect alone is very thrilling to him, and what's better is that he'll get to show off his magnum opus like an excited toddler showing off a drawing they made! he does warn them that it is very humid and they need to be prepared, though.

until they can visit, kaveh regularly exchanges letters with them. he complains about his terribly annoying roommate and how awful his taste in interior design is. he tells them about random gossip he heard at the tavern. honestly, he just rambles. it's endearing, really, and in return, they tell him about fontaine and maybe sneak in just the smallest bit of gossip about a certain chief justice or even about the hydro archon herself.

(in the future, closer to when the traveler arrives in fontaine, they do not dare tell kaveh about the heightened fatui activity. goodness, the poor thing would worry to death for theirs and his mother's safety.)

when they do finally have the time to come visit...

they arrive by boat in port ormos, and kaveh is there to pick them up!

he's got a lot of things he intends to show them and a lot of people he intends on introducing them to. on the way back to sumeru city, he stops a few times, pointing out some particularly beautiful locations or animals, all of which would have his siblimg absolutely over the moon. sumeru in general would have them enamored.

the air in sumeru is so... clean compared to fontaine, and the fauna and flora—it's completely different than what they've seen.

now, as for [name] finding out about kaveh's crippling debt... i think they would suspect something was off financially for him, simply because of certain mannerisms of his. he's careful with what he spends his mora on. he tries to be, at the very least, and his caution is very evident. or maybe they're just observant? either way, they know something is a bit off.

kaveh leaves them at alhaitham's home for a while.

it's not that they're one to snoop—it's disrespectful and rude to do so, they are very much aware of this—but a letter would catch their eye.

a letter detailing what he still owes to dori.

suddenly, things make sense in their mind.

they don't try to ask his roommate about it. instead, they wait until he's home and alone with them.

"kaveh," they call. "are you in debt?"

his heart sinks a little. so much for hiding it...

"i..." he hesitates, obviously embarrassed, but he does come clean. in their eyes, he looks like a kicked, pouty puppy. "it's... complicated. i mean, you're not wrong..."

"aw, kaveh, don't look like that," they coo, reaching out to gingerly squeeze his shoulder in a gesture of gentle reassurance. "it's nothing to be ashamed about. things happen, kaveh. life happens. i understand if not, but... will you let me help you out? at least a little bit?"

regardless of what he says, whether he admits that he could use the help or insists that they shouldn't have to do that, they do still go around and tell people about their super awesome and talented step-brother! and when kaveh asks in a letter about the suspicious amount of commissions he's getting from fontaine...

nope! they have no idea how those people found out about him. <3

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[simslegacy5083]

Today's (10/29/2024) Episode: Wholesome Morning Fun

Luigi and Noemi had successfully launched Watcher Tales right before their originally planned New Year’s Eve release date.

With that deadline off their backs, the family was able to relax and enjoy the holiday in style. In honor of all the relatives who had helped with his game launch, Luigi orchestrated a charity stream at the local gaming center, raising money for the family's foundation for at risk youth.

They kicked things off early in the morning, gathering a group of sims to participate in a timed Watcher Tales build challenge.

“You’ve got 2 hours to create a rockin’ party venue” Luigi told them “I’ll be checking in throughout on your progress, and at the end we’ll take turns touring all your creations, while our online viewers vote on their favorite. Good luck everyone!”

The winning build wound up being a futuristic nightclub lot, designed by the foundation’s volunteer computer science tutor, Mauricio.

Luigi had known this fellow computer lover since their teen years, when he’d been captain of Copperdale High’s computer club. The now much more mellow sim had put his interest in technology to good use both at the foundation and as a teacher at their old alma mater.

“I love your game, and so do my students.” he told Luigi when he came over to offer his congratulations. “The logic and data puzzles you added to the gearhead career are genius. It’s a fun way for kids to learn some of the basics of programming and I’m excited to work it into my lesson plans.”

As the attendees enjoyed placing their creations into their game worlds, Luigi was setting up breakfast with Grandpa Don and his friend Anderson.

“Anderson, this is Lalani. She wants to open her own catering business someday and today she’ll be helping you prepare your famous waffles for our event. Meanwhile, our volunteer Bradley here will be helping Don prepare drinks for all our guests. Nothing too potent now, he’s still a teen!”

��Brunch will be served shortly” he hollered to the crowd. “In the meantime, feel free to enjoy any of the fun activities we’ve setup throughout the center and thank you again for coming out to support this great cause!”

While Luigi was busy hosting the event and gathering footage for the foundations future promotions his son was unloading his most recent woes onto his friend Elyse “…then a clown with pliers started yanking out my teeth. It was awful! That wasn’t just a dream either…” he finished with a sigh “A bunch of my baby teeth are loose, and I hate how they’re all wiggly in my mouth. Daddy said I could just pull them out but I’m afraid to.”

“I totally get it” Elyse replied “I have nightmares too, and losing teeth is the worst! I yank mine to make sure I don’t swallow any in my sleep!”

“Oh, I don’t want to swallow them” Skye whimpered, more scared than ever, just in time for Bruce to jump into the conversation.

“I heard when you swallow a tooth it stays in your stomach for SEVEN YEARS!” their feisty friend grinned evilly at Skye’s horrified expression. “Now quite your bellyaching and come upstairs so I can kick your butts on this HUGE Space Invaders arcade game I found!”

After the meal Noemi gathered the children and teens for a little programming workshop. “Today I’ll show you how to program a simple music player and synthesizer so you can make your own tunes. I’ll also show you how to add your music tracks to Watcher Tales so you can hear them in game!”

Luigi filmed the kids working on their players, providing tips and tricks as he went. The sight of his friends, relatives, and the at-risk kids playing and learning together warmed his heart and made him proud of the good work the foundation was doing to help sims who might otherwise fall through the cracks.

Checking the donation counter Lugi was excited to see they’d already raised a healthy sum, and the day was just getting started!

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[bills-bible-basics]

JESUS IS OUR SABBATH -- KJV (King James Version) Bible Verse List Visit https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/ to see more. In direct contrast to the Scribes and the Pharisees, Jesus came to set us free. He did not come to place a new and heavier legalistic yoke upon any of our shoulders. He took the weight of sin and death, as well as the weight and the demands of the Mosaic Law, and placed them upon His very own shoulders, thus becoming the Lord of the Sabbath, and our only true rest, when we trust in Him alone. "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28-30, KJV "Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you." 1 Peter 5:7, KJV "Cast thy burden upon the LORD, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved." Psalm 55:22, KJV "For the Son of man is Lord even of the sabbath day." Matthew 12:8, KJV "For they [the Scribes and the Pharisees] bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers." Matthew 23:4, KJV "Therefore the Son of man is Lord also of the sabbath." Mark 2:28, KJV "And there was delivered unto him the book of the prophet Esaias. And when he had opened the book, he found the place where it was written, The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, To preach the acceptable year of the Lord." Luke 4:17-19, KJV "And he said unto them, That the Son of man is Lord also of the sabbath." Luke 6:5, KJV "And he said, Woe unto you also, ye lawyers! for ye lade men with burdens grievous to be borne, and ye yourselves touch not the burdens with one of your fingers." Luke 11:46, KJV "Then said Jesus to those Jews which believed on him, If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed; And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free . . . If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." John 8:31-32, 36, KJV "And when there had been much disputing, Peter rose up, and said unto them, Men and brethren . . . Now therefore why tempt ye God, to put a yoke upon the neck of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear? But we believe that through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ we shall be saved, even as they." Acts 15:7, 10-11, KJV "And after they had held their peace, James answered, saying, Men and brethren, hearken unto me . . . Wherefore my sentence is, that we trouble not them, which from among the Gentiles are turned to God: But that we write unto them, that they abstain from pollutions of idols, and from fornication, and from things strangled, and from blood." Acts 15:13, 19-20, KJV "And they wrote letters by them after this manner; The apostles and elders and brethren send greeting unto the brethren which are of the Gentiles in Antioch and Syria and Cilicia: Forasmuch as we have heard, that certain which went out from us have troubled you with words, subverting your souls, saying, Ye must be circumcised, and keep the law: to whom we gave no such commandment . . . For it seemed good to the Holy Ghost, and to us, to lay upon you no greater burden than these necessary things; That ye abstain from meats offered to idols, and from blood, and from things strangled, and from fornication: from which if ye keep yourselves, ye shall do well. Fare ye well." Acts 15: 23-24, 28-29, KJV "And that because of false brethren unawares brought in, who came in privily to spy out our liberty which we have in Christ Jesus, that they might bring us into bondage:" Galatians 2:4, KJV "O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you, that ye should not obey the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been evidently set forth, crucified among you? This only would I learn of you, Received ye the Spirit by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith? Are ye so foolish? having begun in the Spirit, are ye now made perfect by the flesh? Have ye suffered so many things in vain? if it be yet in vain." Galatians 3:1-4, KJV "But now, after that ye have known God, or rather are known of God, how turn ye again to the weak and beggarly elements, whereunto ye desire again to be in bondage? . . . Tell me, ye that desire to be under the law, do ye not hear the law? For it is written, that Abraham had two sons, the one by a bondmaid, the other by a freewoman. But he who was of the bondwoman was born after the flesh; but he of the freewoman was by promise. Which things are an allegory: for these are the two covenants; the one from the mount Sinai, which gendereth to bondage, which is Agar. For this Agar is mount Sinai in Arabia, and answereth to Jerusalem which now is, and is in bondage with her children. But Jerusalem which is above is free, which is the mother of us all." Galatians 4:9, 21-26, KJV "Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage." Galatians 5:1, KJV Please also consider reading the following articles: • Are Christians Obligated to Keep the Sabbath? • Dead to the Law: God's Laws Written on Our Hearts If you would like more info regarding the origin of these KJV Bible verse lists, go to https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/. Thank-you! https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/jesus-is-our-sabbath-kjv-king-james-version-bible-verse-list/?feed_id=163443&JESUS%20IS%20OUR%20SABBATH%20--%20KJV%20%28King%20James%20Version%29%20Bible%20Verse%20List

[dfroza]

“… we have been completely open to you.

We’ve exposed the truth, holding nothing back while our hearts open wide to take you in. We have revealed our affection toward you—though it’s obvious you have a hard time showing your affection toward us. If I could offer some fatherly advice: open yourselves up as children; share your hearts with us as we have done for you.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 6th chapter of the letter of 2nd Corinthians:

As for those of us working as His emissaries, we beg you not to take the grace of God lightly. For God says through Isaiah,

When the time was right, I listened to you;

and that day you were delivered, I was your help.

Look, now the time is right! See, your day of deliverance is here! We are careful in what we teach so that our words won’t be a stumbling block and so that no one will discredit our ministry. But as God’s servants, we commend ourselves in every situation. So that with great endurance we persevere even in anguish and hardship. We have been cornered by the enemy suffering beatings, imprisonments, uproars, toil, sleeplessness, and starvation. And by the Holy Spirit with purity, understanding, patience, kindness, and sincerest love we have proved ourselves. Now with the voice of truth and power of God—armed on the right and armed on the left with righteousness from God—we continue. Whether respected or loathed, praised or criticized as frauds, yet true, as unknown to this world, and yet well known to God, we serve Him. We are treated as dying and yet we live, as punished and yet we are not executed. Though we are sorrowful, we continually rejoice. As the poorest of the poor, we bring richness to all, and though we have nothing, we possess all things.

Corinthians, we have been completely open to you. We’ve exposed the truth, holding nothing back while our hearts open wide to take you in. We have revealed our affection toward you—though it’s obvious you have a hard time showing your affection toward us. If I could offer some fatherly advice: open yourselves up as children; share your hearts with us as we have done for you.

Don’t develop partnerships with those who are not followers of Jesus’ teachings. For what real connection can exist between righteousness and rebellion? How can light participate in darkness? What harmony can exist between the Anointed and Satan? Do the faithful and the faithless have anything in common? Can the temple of God find common ground with idols? Don’t you see that we house the temple of the living God within us? Remember when He said,

“I will make My home with them and walk among them.

I will be their God,

and they will be My people.

So then turn away from them,

turn away and leave without looking back,” says the Lord.

“Stay away from anything unclean, anything impure,

and I will welcome you.

And I will be for you as a father,

and you will be for Me as sons and daughters,”

Says the Lord Almighty!

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 6 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

The most important partnership in life is marriage. There are other kinds of union, but the union of husband and wife transcends any other. God created sexual intimacy as a unique gift to marriage. Its purpose goes beyond pleasure and procreation. As a man and a woman join their bodies together, the Spirit does a unique work of binding these two individuals as one person. But the involvement of the Spirit is not possible when a believer is intimate with a nonbeliever. They are not filled with the same Spirit and cannot experience the fullness God intends. Paul’s instructions are practical, simple, and clear.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 23rd chapter of the book of Jeremiah about the danger of “lying” dreams:

Eternal One: Woe to the shepherds who slaughter and scatter the sheep of My pasture! This is what I, the Eternal God of Israel, have to say about the shepherds tending My people:

You have scattered My flock, driven them far away, and failed miserably at being their caregivers. So look! I will punish you for your negligence, for the careless evil you’ve done. I will personally gather the remnant of My sheep from the lands where I have driven them. I will bring them back to their home pasture where they will be fruitful and multiply. I will appoint new, responsible shepherds to take care of them, and My sheep will no longer have to be afraid. These new, responsible shepherds will make sure that none of My sheep go missing.

Watch! The days are coming when I will raise up a righteous Branch of David—an heir of his royal line—who will rule justly, act wisely and make things right again in the land. During His reign, Judah will be redeemed and Israel will be a safe place again. The name he is called will tell the story: The Eternal Is Our Righteousness!

So be ready and watch carefully. The days are coming when no one will say any longer, “As the Eternal lives, who brought the people of Israel out of slavery in the land of Egypt.” Instead, they will say, “As the Eternal lives, who brought the people of Israel out of exile in the lands of the north and out of all other countries where He had scattered them.” Then the Israelites will live securely in their own land.

As for the false prophets:

Deep in my chest, my heart is broken.

I am shaken to the core, like a man who is drunk,

overcome by too much wine

All because of the Eternal,

all because of His holy words.

Eternal One: The land is full of adulterers;

surely the curse is in effect and the land mourns.

The pastures in the wilderness are all dried up,

for they have set an evil course,

and their might is not right.

For even the prophets and priests are ungodly;

I have witnessed them perform wicked acts in My temple.

Now this path they are on will become treacherous, and they will slip and slide;

they will stumble and fall into the darkness, driven into the gloom.

For in the year of their punishment,

I will bring them to ruin.

I saw something repulsive

among the prophets of Samaria:

They prophesied in the name of Baal

and led My people, Israel, away from Me.

I have seen something horrible among the prophets of Jerusalem:

worship that is adulterous and deceitful.

They inspire and encourage people to even more evil;

now no one turns back from his sin.

The citizens of Jerusalem remind Me of the wicked people

who once lived in Sodom and Gomorrah.

So this is what the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies, has to say about those prophets:

Eternal One: Watch, I will give them bitter food to eat and poisoned water to drink,

because the prophets of Jerusalem have released their ungodliness

And it has spread into all the land.

These are the words of the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies.

Eternal One: When these prophets “prophesy” to you, filling you with empty hopes, do not listen to one word! They do not speak for Me. They speak of visions they have only imagined. They keep saying to those who openly reject My word, “Don’t worry, the Eternal has promised you peace.” And to those stubborn souls who go their own way, they say, “Don’t worry, nothing bad will happen to you.”

Which one of these false prophets has stood in the presence of the Eternal

and heard His voice or seen His plan?

Who of them has paid attention to His word and truly listened?

Behold, the storm of the Eternal’s wrath will now break open,

swirling down out of the sky like a whirlwind onto the heads of the wicked.

The Eternal’s anger will not relent until He has carried out His most fervent plans.

You will understand all of this in the days to come.

Eternal One: I did not send these so-called prophets,

but they have run to you with their empty words.

I did not speak to them,

but they claim to speak for Me.

If only they had stood in My presence and heard My voice,

then they would have spoken My words to My people!

They would have turned this nation back from its evil ways and evil deeds.

Am I only a God who is close by, and not a God of the farthest reaches? Am I a God anyone can hide from? Do I not see what happens in secret? Am I not everywhere, filling heaven and earth? I have heard these prophets who speak lies in My name. They say, “I had a dream, I had a dream,” and claim it was Me speaking to them! How long will this go on? Will the hearts of these lying prophets ever change? How long will they deceive themselves and all who listen to them? They think they can make My people forget My name with all this talk of dreams—just as their ancestors forgot My name as they worshiped Baal. If a prophet has a dream, he should tell others of that dream. But the one who has My word should speak it with unshakable faith. For what is straw worth, when compared to grain? Does not My word burn like fire? Does it not shatter rock like a strong hammer? Look, this is why I oppose the prophets who steal My word from others and offer it as their own. I oppose the prophets whose tongues “declare” something, as if I, the Eternal, have declared it. I oppose the prophets who prophesy with lying dreams. They lead My people astray with their reckless lies. But I did not send these prophets or direct them to speak in My name, so they are of no use to My people.

This is what the Eternal declares.

Eternal One (to Jeremiah): When someone, some prophet or some priest, asks, “What is the message the Eternal burdened you with today, Jeremiah?” Simply answer, “[You are the burden, and] the Eternal declares, ‘I will cast you aside.’” If a prophet or priest or any of these people claim, “This is the burden of the Eternal,” let them be warned, I will punish that person and his family.

(to the people) Instead of making light of My declarations, from now on you should say to your friends and family, “What is the Eternal’s answer to you?” or “What is the Eternal saying to us?” Do not use the phrase “the burden of the Eternal” again. It means nothing to you. All people say they have a message from Me when they don’t. You are twisting the words of the living God, our God, the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies. You should say to the prophet, “What answer is the Eternal giving to you?” or “What is the Eternal saying to us?” But if you keep saying, “This is the burden of the Eternal,” expect Me to declare this: “You continued to use the phrase ‘the burden of the Eternal,’ even though I warned you not to use it. That is why I will forget you and cast you out of My presence, both you and the city I gave you and your ancestors. I will bring endless disgrace upon you—an enduring shame that no one will forget.”

The Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 23 (The Voice)

A set of notes from The Voice translation:

The shepherd-leaders and shepherd-teachers of God’s people have misled them, and the results have been disastrous. Now God intervenes. God Himself, personally, gathers His exiles from wherever He scattered them and places them under the guidance and tutelage of new shepherds, responsible leaders who will bring them home once again safe and secure. As if that is not enough, God will fulfill the covenant He made with King David hundreds of years earlier and establish a righteous branch of David to reign from Jerusalem. This king will be everything the earlier kings of Judah were not: just, fair, and wise. The restoration of God’s exiles and the installation of this new king—God’s anointed—will be so glorious, so momentous that it will change the course of history. It will surpass God’s rescue of the Hebrew slaves from Egypt.

Jeremiah’s prophecy of this coming king inspires many to look and long for God’s Anointed One, His Messiah, from among the sons of David. Indeed, some of the earliest followers of Jesus will find in Him the fulfillment of these hopes, dreams, and aspirations.

•

Prophets stretch the meanings of words in order to instruct and challenge their audiences. Although it’s difficult to appreciate in translation, in the following passage Jeremiah uses an important Hebrew word that has a double meaning. It means “message,” as in the message from God that he is about to declare, but it also means “burden”; therefore, the “message” he receives from God—the “message” he must now declare—is a “burden” both to hear and deliver. As the message goes out of Jeremiah, others use this word to ridicule him and minimize what God is saying. In this passage, God makes it quite clear what He thinks of these mocking and sinful people.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Saturday, September 23 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about the significance of renewing the mind:

"Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. The one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life" (Gal. 6:8). Here we see the importance of feeding the divine nature given to us in Messiah - to "sow" or "plant" truth within our hearts so that we will yield the "fruit of righteousness."

On the other hand, feeding the lower nature, gratifying the desires of the flesh, disregarding the truth of eternity for the sake of temporal pleasure, and so on, leads to corruption and to death. Spirituality (רוּחניוּת), then, is of utmost importance to us, as we learn to "renew our minds" and yield ourselves to the truth of God (Gal. 5:16). We must set our hearts on things above, where Messiah is seated at the right hand of God (Col. 3:1-4).

We are engaged in the battle daily - an internal struggle to direct our hearts and to make the decision to be awake to the Lord’s Presence - or to surrender to our fallenness, fear, and despair. The Lord has promised us his very strength for the battle, but we must choose to believe in order to receive the blessing....

Since God has promised to help us as we seek to do His will (see 1 John 5:14), let us therefore draw near to the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need (Heb. 4:16). The LORD makes the way of escape for those who earnestly seek him (1 Cor. 10:13). He says to the heart of faith: "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God: I will strengthen you, yea, I will help you, yea, I will uphold you the right hand of my righteousness (Isa. 41:10).

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Isaiah 41:10 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa41-10-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page (larger view):

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa41-10-lesson.pdf

9.21.23 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel 365:

Imagine yourself standing on a (rock) at Rosh Hanikra, a coastal region in the northern Israel where the sea meets the mountains. As you peer out over the Mediterranean Sea, the rhythmic waves crash into the rocks, each wave stronger and more intense than the last. This awe-inspiring sight, where the sheer power of nature meets tranquility, evokes feelings of humility and wonder. You can’t help but think: What force lies behind this magnificent spectacle?

Maimonides, a revered medieval Jewish scholar, presents two paths that bridge humanity and the Divine. The first path is the contemplation of God’s vast universe, His creation. By observing the intricacies and wonders of the world around us, from the vast cosmos to the tiny creatures that roam the Earth, we can’t help but be filled with love and awe for the Creator. The realization that amidst this immense universe, we, as humans, have a special place, fills us with an overwhelming sense of humility.

The second path is the study of God’s word. By studying and understanding His commandments and teachings, one draws closer to God’s wisdom. This path of contemplation not only complements the first but enhances it, offering a more profound connection to the Almighty. Together, these paths present a more comprehensive understanding of God; a combination of marveling at His creation and delving deep into His teachings.

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

September 23, 2023

What Do Fig Trees Do?

“Can the fig tree, my brethren, bear olive berries? either a vine, figs? so can no fountain both yield salt water and fresh.” (James 3:12)

The answer to these rhetorical questions obviously is “no.” A fig tree cannot become an olive tree in one growing season, or in a million of them. Nor can a grapevine evolve into a fig tree, no matter what happens to it (grafts, mutations, chemicals, radiations, anything).

In the very first chapter of the Bible, each kind of plant God created was given the genetic information by its Maker to reproduce only its own “kind” of plant, not to diverge into some other kind, although its offspring could develop into many varieties of the parental kind (but even that only within strict limits). The same was true with the animals. Ten times in Genesis 1, God, in five verses, tells us that each created kind of plant and animal was coded to reproduce just its own kind (Genesis 1:11-12, 21, 24-25).

Just in the event that some skeptic might reject Genesis 1 as factual, the same theme is reiterated in the New Testament, not only in our text but in Paul’s great chapter on death and resurrection. “God giveth it a body as it hath pleased him, and to every seed its own body. All flesh is not the same flesh: but there is one kind of flesh of men, another flesh of beasts, another of fishes, and another of birds” (1 Corinthians 15:38-39).

This biblical truth is confirmed by every scientific observation ever made on plants and animals—whether living, dead, or fossilized. No one has ever seen a frog evolve into a prince, or a vine into an olive tree, either in the present or in the fossil record of the past. “I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that man should fear before him” (Ecclesiastes 3:14). HMM

[socialseasons]

Anthony Bridgerton had taken the news just as well as Violet had anticipated -- A brief moment of silence had passed once the words were out in the open, a fleeting second where she wondered if perhaps it could be settled in a calm manner. But no, the eldest Bridgerton had let out a hissed "what?!" before immediately getting to his feet, pacing the length of the room as he hurled a whole flurry of curses, present company be damned.

It took a good thirty minutes for Violet to even begin to calm her son, watching his anger subside into a terrified worry that pained her to witness. Finally, he took a deep breath and nodded, running a hand over his clenched jaw. "I wish to speak with Mrs Strong," he decided, and his mother had no choice but to agree.

The two of them made their way to the sitting room where Anna had been positioned, and Anthony wasted no time in bursting through the door, pale-faced and trembling. "What is your plan?" he demanded, his voice stern as he approached. If he was to follow this stranger to the depths of nowhere, he at least needed to know how this would end. "Tell me, now."

--

"That must be difficult."

As much as she wished to hurl a barrel of insults his way, Francesca's voice remained soft as she spoke with Winthrop, trying a different tactic that she prayed would offer even a modicum of lenience her way. He spoke of his family with a strange hesitation, seeming to eye her suspiciously as she turned the discussion towards him, and why shouldn't he? She had been glaring daggers at him just moments ago.

"I imagine that my mother would also be rather angry if she learned of my lifestyle," she continued, heaving a sigh as though full of regret. It was not a lie, per say -- Francesca was certain that Violet would have a select few words for her daughter if she were here now. But their familial bond was stronger than any politics, and so she knew with complete certainty that her family would not abandon her like this. "My family are loyal to the Crown, you see - They believe me to be in Scotland. It would certainly destroy them to know of where I have ended up."

Her hand retreated back to her side, a melancholy smile sent towards the man before her -- In the best case scenario, he would take pity on her, although Francesca thought that least likely. Else he would take the opportunity to tell her family himself, and woe to any man who tried to tell her brothers that he had hurt one of their own.

Although Anthony's sudden presence was for the best -- yes, yes, of course it was -- Anna couldn't help but shudder once a spike of dread lodged its way up her spine, making her stance rigid and frightfully still. In many ways, gazing upon Anthony reminded her of when she was a young girl and had first encountered a poisonous snake.

Do not look it in the eye, her father had coaxed. Here, too, Anna found herself following that advice, because surely, Anthony would strike if she allowed herself to be bare-faced in her intentions.

He was polite and well-mannered enough, but Anna knew better than anyone how deceiving the male sex could be in that regard. Once Violet requested that she and her son speak alone, Anna offered a tight smile and dipped into a curtsy, then followed Madeleine out into the hallway. Even as she headed toward the private sitting room, she could feel a restless, agitated sensation writhing within her gut like a restless snake.

--

By now, Fritz's hands were shaking as he refilled their tin cups with whiskey. "This had better not be true," he said. "Although people love the melodrama of a good execution, they're hardly so lenient when it comes to the life of a child."

"And is that so terrible?" Ben countered. "Although she assuredly deserves her end, I'd like to think we haven't completely lost our way as human beings -- and to sneer upon the life of a child would be precisely that." Sipping at his cup, he disguised his smile around the rim before lowering the whiskey. "If nothing else, prolonging the execution will allow a doctor to come by and examine her. We should be sure she is with child before taking action. At least in that way, we'll know what we're dealing with and how to do damage control."

Fritz swore under his breath, shaking his head. "Goddammit," he cursed. "Of course, you're right...that isn't so unreasonable."

--

"I think I am being beyond lenient," Winthrop fired back. "You are a traitor -- a blight on humanity, Mrs. Stirling. How would you have me treat the lowest of the low? If I show you even the slightest bit of mercy, it could very well lead to a bolstering of rebels."

Baring his teeth into a snarl, he jerked in surprise once Francesca reached out and laid a hand upon his own, her eyes soft and imploring. Her question gave him pause. "I...have a mother, yes," he coolly said. "She does not much approve of my lifestyle, so we are not exactly on speaking terms at the moment. And my brothers are in Georgia."

Peering down at her over the bridge of his nose, he harrumphed and looked away. "If your family is every bit as traitorous as you are, then yes, naturally you should be worried," he snidely said. "With merely a word, I can make or break their lives. You would do well to watch what you say to me, girl -- I am no fool -- so tread lightly."

[gauntsghostsfieldguide]

Anarch- Part 1

ONE: THE KING OF THE KNIVES

"Under the watchful glare of mosaic saints, the floor was a lake of blood." Well, that's a hell of a first sentence.

"Damogaur Olort oversaw the work, hands behind his back, barking orders to his sonpack. Sons of Sek brought the captives in one by one." Oh, the villains are slaughtering people. Again.

"The chamber was the inner precinct of the Basilica of Kiodrus on Sadimay Island. A holy place. That it had been transmuted into a hell was too much for most of the prisoners to bear." And they're desecrating holy places. As per usual, for Chaos.

"Olort tried to look encouraging. He had unclasped his leather mouth guard so that the captives could see and appreciate the honesty of his smile." Uh, would that help? His smile's probably terrifying.

And, of course, they kill the ones who take the offer to join in exchange for their lives. Because people who do that are cowards and they don't want cowards.

Oh, Mkoll was just taken prisoner. For some reason.

"Nen. He will take the key from you. For the woe is already within you.’" Uh oh. And it has something to do with the Heritor. From all the way back in Necropolis.

TWO: OTHER BUSINESS

It's been three days, more or less, since the end of the last book.

"Which meant interviews, evaluations, isometrics. Gaunt sighed again." Oh, no. Gaunt's stuck doing actual political work.

"‘You’re not Tanith any more, Ibram,’ Grizmund had said with a sad smile. ‘Your line days are over. Oh, the Tanith will remain in your purview, but the scale has changed.’" :(

"The Scions flanked him at all times, two in front, two behind. If he stayed aware of the heels of the men in front of him, Gaunt could speed-read data-slates as he strode along, confident that Sancto and his men would steer him around corners, avoid obstacles, and open doors without him even having to look up." That's one way to do it. You just need four highly trained bodyguards to do it.

"The trouble was, it was heartbreaking." ;_;

"Daur shrugged. ‘The son of the great hero of Vervunhive stands to advance faster than any daughter? I don’t know, to be honest. Verghast was always damned patriarchal. There’s an issue of honour here, primogeniture, succession. Shame.’" I still feel like this is a massive retcon. The patriarchal bit, I mean.

I am annoyed that Saint Sabbat is on the planet and there's no indication of Milo being around. Perhaps he'll show up in this book?

[classicsofclassicsofgame]

Game: Hakaiou: King of Crusher (PS1)

Though it was only released in Japan, a YouTube channel called NintendoComplete kindly uploaded a translated playthrough of the game and sums up its premise in the video’s description:

Shortly after his son is born, a salaryman is sitting at the kitchen table having breakfast before work. A fly buzzes around and lands on him, infuriating him to quite an unreasonable degree: he swats at it and misses, knocking his coffee cup to to the floor. As he turns purple with rage, the fly whispers to him: destroy everything. The demands of everyday life, the frustrations, the put upons: all of these things that drag you down should be destroyed if you ever want your life to be yours. 

The first level is literally destroying your house as your wife flees from you. You go on to destroy your workplace, a local store, military bases, and soon enough the entire city. As your power grows you gain Altered Beast-like transformations, growing more and more monstrous in response to the growing military resistance attempting to stop you. The fly continually goads you into destroying more and more of humanity’s creations until there is nothing left; until you are finally free.

After destroying Tokyo, you fly to New York and begin wreaking havoc there as well. The final boss, naturally, is good old Lady Liberty herself, the final bastion against your wanton destruction.

“How much longer is this going to continue? What do you hope this futile desire of destroying everything will bring you?”

As you pulverize the Statue of Liberty to rubble, the game offers one final surprise: a wailing baby drops from the sky into the statue’s arms before control is handed back to you. At this point, you have a choice between two endings. If you put down the controller and allow yourself to be killed, the game ends with a flashback of your child being born, leading into the opening cutscene of the game where you sit in your home with your family, only now you successfully kill the fly and have a moment of peace with your child as your whole reign of destruction washes away like a bad dream.

If you finish off the statue (and the baby), you awake amid the ruins of your devastation, lulled by the sound of a crying infant. You run to the sound only to find some kind of devil baby(?), before the camera pulls back into the sky, up to the earth, to the solar system and beyond, leaving you alone. Underneath the credits is FMV of countless plates being smashed against the ground.

---

I never thought a kusoge could leave me with so many thoughts. There’s no need for this story to be anything more than a simple veneer over a game where you senselessly pummel things into pieces, and yet there is a surprising depth to it. The average salaryman protagonist is driven to insane violence not by his boss or personal woes, but by a sudden, instantaneous spark of rage incited by the devil himself. He destroys countless buildings and military personnel not for revenge, but that he might be free. And in the end, after telling you to destroy and destroy and destroy again, the game has the audacity to offer you a moral choice with no clear instruction; to finish what you’ve started or surrender yourself to uncertainty, knowing that it is the right thing to do.

Am I thinking too hard about a game where you can headbutt a vending machine into a bunch of triangles? Absolutely. But this chaotic intersection of gameplay and storytelling is something I treasure in video games. All it takes is one game developer making an otherwise straightforward game to ask the empyrean question “What if I made this profound, as a joke?”

[nellycanwrite]

𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐘'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

|| updates in progress ||

[ 1-20-2023 ] Currently updating the links on my masterlist! Hold on for just a few days while I fix up some things besties! Sorry for the inconvenience!

Formerly known as artsynellyyy. Changed up the name to match my AO3 handle and to accommodate my art blog (which now inherited the name artsynellyyy! Confusing, I know. But it's a lack of management on my part. Super sorry about that!)

Just an animation student who likes to write brainrot, is all. I identify as a menace, but I can be gremlin if need be. A certified proud girlfriend to my lovely partner ♡

Check out my Twitter if you want to commission me for art!

Twitter  ||  Instagram  ||  Ao3  ||  Ko-fi || Art Blog

Writing Prompts are Open! Feel free to drop ideas to inspire me to write!

Encanto

⋄❥ Love Me For Eternity (Ongoing, Main work)

In which you and Bruno are childhood friends, fall in love, get married, have kids, Bruno foresees the impending doom of the Encanto, and it is your duty to protect the town from war.

⋄❥ Campfire and Sand (One Shot) 

In which Bruno did not realize he left more than just a broken heart.

⋄❥ Mi Valentina (Drabble) 

In which Bruno visits the grave of his love.

⋄❥ Woes of a Parent (LMFE Stand Alone) 

You and Bruno grieve the loss of your first child.

⋄❥ The Dawn of November (LMFE Stand Alone)

In which Bruno finally gets to hold his children for the first time.

⋄❥ Villain!Bruno AU (One Shot and Imagine)

In which Bruno realizes his deep rooted hate and seeks revenge.

⋄❥ Mateo’s Reverie; His Alejandra

Where Mateo, Bruno’s godfather, met the love of his life for the first time.

⋄❥ Ruana, a Father’s Day Special

Where the triplets give Bruno a gift he would always cherish, even behind the walls.

⋄❥ Moth to a Flame (GB!Evalina x GB! Bruno)

Where Evelino, right after herding the sheep, rushes to look for the love of his life, Bruna.

⋄❥ [ NSFW 18+ ] Good Night, Pendejo (Bruno Madrigal x Reader)

Where you and Bruno have one final night before he disappears into the walls.

⋄❥ The Reason Why Javi Wears Glasses and Ignacio has a Scar

Where two brothers fight and use their gifts against each other.

Character Art and Descriptions:

⋄❥ Mateo Alcantara (Art and Description)

Bruno’s Godfather and Pedro’s childhood friend; watchman of the mountains and shepherd of the Encanto.

⋄❥ The Menaces (Art)

Bruno’s triplets at three years old.

⋄❥ Mi Alejandra (Art)

When Mateo first saw Alejandra.

Writing Prompts from Asks:

⋄❥ Young!Bruno and Reader

Where Bruno thinks he is allergic to you (but really, he just has a crush on you)

⋄❥ Gray Hairs (Bruno x GN!Reader) 

You wanted to pluck out Bruno’s gray hairs, but he runs for his life in fear they will multiply three-fold.

Elvis Presley

⋄❥ Our Son (Austin Butler!Elvis Presley x Filipino!Reader)

Where you decide to tell Elvis that he is not the father of your son.

⋄❥ A Limousine Ride (Austin Butler!Elvis Presley x Filipino!Reader)

Where Elvis offers you and your son a ride to his hotel.

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

Namor:

⋄❥ His Queen (K’uk’ulkan x Filipino!Reader)

Where Namor asks you to become queen of Talokan.

⋄❥ [ NSFW 18+ ] His Timeless Love (K'uk'ulkan x Reincarnator!Filipino!Reader)

In which K’uk’ulkan tells you the story of the four times he fell in love with you and the three times he saw you die.  

Attuma:

⋄❥ A Request; Part 1 (Attuma x Talokanil!Princess!Reader)

In which Attuma swears his undying loyalty for you, even if it meant being as shameless as to declare his love to a princess when was but a mere warrior.

⋄❥ An Order ; Part 2 (Attuma x Talokanil!Princess!Reader)

In which Attuma would soon realize that his own counsel would put you in jeopardy—bloodied and near death in his arms as you gave him your first order as princess.

Fanart:

⋄❥ At Ease

POV: K'uk'ulkan only feels at ease with you.

⋄❥ “...a child of Bulan with the voice of an enchantress.”

Fanart for @honeystevie and their work: Take Me Into Your Arms, a Siren's Call.

[museincarnate]

The rambunctious infant's touchy tendencies would slowly cease, as she was rocked attentively by the Little Rabbit; soft babbles once again escaping the little Saiyaness, as she eventually seemed content just resting in the lap of her current caretaker, despite her unintentional distractions for Tater.

As for when the younger redhead vocalized an unspoken, shared concern about Tater's inclusion in their overall training, the sight of Tater's reaction to even a carefully put version of the inquiry would cause Yujin to sigh softly; a sliver of guilt creeping its way into his psyche. He came awfully close to offering a quiet apology to the Lagomorph, since he'd peeked to see her wince in response, but the prodigal son found himself remaining silent, as his predecessor was about to speak again.

Once Tater became the primary focus of the conversation all three of them were having, however, Yujin would open his eyes, and glance towards the Little Rabbit, hoping that her woes were something that could be remedied, rather than something too internal, to resolve in a timely manner. As honest as she was, however, both he and the Hero of Hope found themselves needing a few moments to let the woman's words sink in; the father and son's brows respectively furrowing, as contemplative hums emanated from them.

"Even if a situation like that should ever arise, it's not like you'll be alone, in trying to reach one of us, if we need help." Shuen would begin his honest attempt at reassuring the Lagomorph, as he spoke in a relaxed, almost soothing tone; no uncertainty present in his voice, as he chose his words. "And as far as needing time to heal bigger injuries, we'll give you as much time as we can buy for you. Either that, or we'll make due with just enough to get us back on our feet, no matter how much it hurts." It was a morbid, painful thought, certainly, but even Yujin nodded in agreement with his dad.

"You're not useless, Tater." The prodigal son would even chime in, either as atonement for asking Shuen his question about Tater's involvement, or out of the genuine kindness of his heart; both the Hero of Hope's and Yujin's hand coming to rest on one of Tater's shoulders, each. The Paradox Saiyan would hum softly, in response to his progeny's added reassurance, as Tater seemed like she might've needed to hear from more than just one of them.

"You're honestly a big source of morale, and your heart has helped, maybe, sway the hearts of others. It's probably kept us from having to resort to ending someone's life, in a few cases while we traveled across Sol-Lago. You might not notice it, but for the likes of me and Torno? Terminating an enemy's life used to be the solution for restoring peace, or for settling something... Respectively speaking, of course." Yujin, oddly enough, found himself having a hard time vocalizing any sort of agreement, as his father's honesty, and the revelation that came with it, choked him up just slightly.

"If you really wanted a simple answer, though, I could've just said something like... You're an extra set of eyes and ears, but that's not all that you are, to us!" Shuen found himself chortling softly in amusement, as the thumb on the Little Rabbit's shoulder would softly massage the area, as if to add further reassurance. He'd give Tater time to reflect on his words, and even respond, but thereafter, the prodigal son would be given the floor; his gaze meeting with the Hero of Hope's own, as if he had something to say.

"Dad, I don't think we've really talked about your Timestamp. I know how it works, for you at least, but if it can work for me too, I..." He'd groan softly, as he couldn't quite seem to find the proper words to articulate his concerns. Meanwhile, Aitez had nuzzled herself against the Lagomorph woman, and began dozing off, as her caretaker's rocking had made the little baby feel tired. "I don't have that moment, like you do. How can I find that sudden spark of joy, like you, when I have nothing in the given moment, now, that I can use as a jumping point?"

Frankly, the Paradox Saiyan hadn't exactly considered the aforementioned notion, as he began slightly rubbing at his own temples; pondering his son's question carefully, as he considered any possibilities that could give Yujin some sort of clarity, or a lesson that could be learned from the matter at hand. And then... a soft grin found its way onto Shuen's visage, as he seemed to find the answer he was looking for.

"You're looking at things from a perspective of a man trying to emulate his father's own steps, Yujin. You're my son, and I've taught you most of the things you know, from defending yourself to conducting yourself as a good and honest person, but..." Shuen's hand on Tater's shoulder would transition to the top of the younger Saiyan's head, as he ruffled his son's hair almost playfully. "You're your own man, and you can't spend your life walking the very same steps that I have." For someone so jovial, and oftentimes simplistic in his words and mannerisms, it was the rare moments like this, where Tater and the others would know just how wise and attentive the Hero of Hope truly was.

"What're you trying to say, dad?" In spite of Shuen's wise, nearly prophetic words, Yujin still had some trouble understanding the core points that his elder was trying to make; chocking it up to a lack of time spent with his father, after the aforementioned loss of Ronin.

"Your Timestamp doesn't have to be brought on by joy. Intense emotions of any kind could give you a similar spike in power, if you can find something to cause those feelings to surface. What do you think, Tater? Should we give that a try?"

When Shuen saw that Tater's own expression was somewhat laced with worry, for both him and his son, the Hero of Hope would only allow his own smile to grow larger, as if to reassure the Little Rabbit that everything would be fine, prior to her joining them in this more tranquil, self-focused form of training. When she did, however, and little Aitez was kept in the Lagomorph's lap, the Hero of Hope would take a deep breath in, and exhale just as slowly; clearing his own conscience, by the time that his progeny and Tater had both closed their eyes.

During the Lagomorph woman's own inward thinking, she'd feel little Aitez's hands softly slapping at her arms, or gently pressing a palm under the Rabbit's chin; babbling about nothing, as a baby normally would. "I know that neither of you have really been involved with something like what's going on, recently, but... If there's someone with malicious intentions out there, like that other Saiyan, there's a chance that there will be more, and any chance at lasting peace might be smaller than we'd hope for." Despite this, Shuen's tone remained positive, as he had already mastered that ability of clearing his conscience, while simultaneously focusing on other endeavors.

Exhaling audibly, Yujin would manage to keep himself in a meditative state, while offering his own input to the conversation at hand, as if he'd never forgotten how to do so; emulating his father's almost natural ability to focus and react so effortlessly. "That's part of what worries me, dad. This could be the start of something worse, like Tazz said back on that rooftop, a few days ago. What if training, alone, isn't enough for all of us to handle what's coming?"

Further coos from Aitez would prevent any lasting silence from lingering between the two Saiyans and Tater, as both of the redheads pondered the topic further. "You're thinking too far ahead, when we haven't even jumped over the first hurdle of things that we need to deal with. The present moment is what matters the most, son. Neither you, nor Tater, will be the same person as you are now, when the time comes." Shuen would place a hand on his offspring's shoulder, while simultaneously doing the same for the Little Rabbit; offering a form of reassurance, as he always seemed to.

"If Torno and I didn't think any of you were capable of taking care of things, whether we're here or not, then none of us would be training in the first place." A sigh of relief would, whether the prodigal son admitted it or not, escape the younger male, as his predecessor's words did bring some form of comfort to him. Although, a question did seem to linger in his thoughts, even if Tater's eyes were closed; an air of tension still lingering around him, so much so that it was almost palpable.

"Why are we putting Tater through this training, though? She's not going to be fighting anyone, so what's this really doing for her?" He clearly hadn't meant it in any sort of insulting manner, as his inflection was careful, as to not come off as though he didn't want her there, with them. For what it was worth, he cared about the Lagomorph, just as much as the rest of the group did, even if he had trouble conveying that to her.

"Even if she's not a fighter, she's still a valuable part of the team. She's a healer, remember? How will she be able to help any of us, if she's overwhelmed by everything going on around her, when things get bad? She needs to be just as prepared as you do, and able to focus and stay calm." A soft sound of acknowledgement would come from Yujin, in response to his father's explanation, as the elder seemed to shift his attention, once more, to the Little Rabbit.

"By the way, Tater... What worries you? I didn't mean to leave you out of the discussion."

[redrobin-detective]

the end is where we start from

What we call the beginning is often the end / And to make an end is to make a beginning / The end is where we start from. ~ T.S. Elliot, Little Giddings

Danny was running, he didn’t know where to all he knew was who he was running from. He didn’t know if his parents were even coming after him, guns blazing and mouths sneering but he didn’t dare turn around to look. Maybe they weren’t even going to bother chasing him, maybe they were just happy the ghostly scum was out of their house. 

He saw the entrance to Amity’s deepest woods and he darted for it. It was dark and thick and easy to lose yourself in so people usually thought twice before they entered. But people like Danny had little else to lose. The sting of branches swiping at him before he could turn intangible, giant, gnarling roots tripping him up before he could float over him. But he didn’t dare slow down because that would mean acknowledging what had happened.

Another missed curfew, another argument where he and his parents talked about but around each other. Another ghost showing up just as he got dressed for bed, another transformation to take care of it before he could get some sleep. Only the same old script flipped on itself when Mom opened the door, bringing in some tea as an apology for her harsh words just into time to see her son become a ghost. Her gun was drawn before the cup hit the floor and shattered, along with Danny’s heart.

Deep in the thicket of the woods, his human lungs burned and his living muscles ached but he couldn’t turn into Phantom now. Not when it was the stupid ghost’s fault he wasn’t welcome in his own home anymore.

‘What are you doing with my son, ghost?’

‘Mom, please it’s Danny I can explain, please would you just listen?’

‘You can’t be alive and dead at the same time! It’s impossible!’ Oh god my baby died and I didn’t even notice’

‘Mom, Dad, listen to Danny, he’s telling the truth. This is why he never-’

‘Jasmine, you’ve been deceived that’s what ghosts do! That’s what Phantom in particular is known for!’

“Jazzy, Danno, I want to believe you, but it’s a lot to take in. Let us run some tests to make sure.’

‘Danny! Danny wait! Come back!’

Eventually his human body ran out of steam, adrenaline and desperation can only take a person so far. His speeding gait slowed to a lopping jog before settling into a quiet, miserable walk. He squeezed his eyes shut and dared to look over his shoulder but, of course, no one was there. It was just him, the darkness and his own woes.

“What am I going to do now?” He asked quietly, weakly as he fought back panicked tears. All he could see was his mother’s angry, grieving face. His father’s confusion as he tried to make sense of it all while trying to keep the peace. Jazz’s frustration and futile attempts to shield Danny from the worst of the shouting.

He had nothing on his person, why would he? He’d been about ready to go to bed when his whole world came crashing down. His worn Star Wars t-shirt and sweatpants offered little protection from the gloomy October weather but Danny’s ice core more than protected him from the chill. He welcomed it if anything, it matched the ice growing in his heart. No money to escape with, no phone to call for help, no tools to contain any ghosts he battled. He hadn’t even had dinner last night, too busy fighting ghosts. For the first time, Danny was well and truly on his own. Not even dying had seemed so scary.

“I can handle this,” Danny said with false calm. It was pitch dark around him but a little ectoplasmic light brightened the area up. “I’ll just stay here for the night and then I’ll check in tomorrow. If things are still bad, I’ll grab my gear and go.” Where he’d go was a whole other question but that wasn’t important right now. He was still too raw to think about what he’d do if he actually had to abandon his human life. All he could focus on right now was the hurt pulsing through him.

He wandered around in the dark for a little while longer, looking for a suitable place to set up camp for the night. Eventually, he came upon a set of twisting trees that was perfect for his purposes. Lightening his weight, he climbed up halfway and made a little ice tent in the branches. It was lightweight but thick, covering him up and serving as a shield between him and the rest of the world. In his own little ice palace, no one else could hurt him.

“There we go, home sweet home,” Danny mumbled as he crawled inside with a dull thump. He’d left a little skylight open, so he could look up at the stars. If he didn’t think too hard about it, he could imagine he was out camping with his dad or stargazing with his friends. “No, stop it. You’re only making it worse,” he said quietly to himself as the annoying flush of sadness washed over him. He didn’t like to cry; it made him feel stupid and childish and exhausted. Jazz had lectured him about the cleansing release of neurochemicals and other junk but really he usually felt worse after crying. 

“This is fine, everything is fine,” Danny sniffled, shuddering as he curled in on himself. The only cold that could hurt him was his own. It really wasn’t a great idea to use his that much of his ice in his human form, it chilled his body too much to be healthy. That, combined with his light clothes, the chilly night and that fact that he was laying on a solid block of ice, didn’t help matters. If Sam and Tucker could see him, they’d be shoving him in the shower to warm him up and plying him with food and blankets. Jazz and her dozen kind of herbal teas that help with mood or digestion or whatever would shove one or two into his hands and hover until he drank some. Their nagging was annoying but it was helpful and made him feel so loved. Love he wasn’t feeling out in the woods all by himself in the middle of the night.

“This is fine,” he repeated, more choked up this time and gave into his desire to cry. His chest hurt from the force of his sobs and eyes burned from the salty tears. He was flushed and cold and miserable but eventually, after wiping snot away from his nose and hiccupping quietly, he was ready to sleep. He was so worn out from all the hurting and the crying that he slipped from wakefulness as easy as going ghost.

“Child, what are you doing?” Danny groaned at the vaguely familiar voice. His ghost sense went off, reminding him once more how cold he was. He barely had it in him to shiver right now. “Ghost child, awaken and explain yourself.” Cold metal poked repeatedly into his side until Danny shoved the hand away, sitting up with a miserable glare.

“Go away, I’m not in the mood,” Danny grumbled, turning away from Skulker to try and go back to sleep. “I already feel bad enough, I don’t need you making it worse.”

“That does not explain why you are in a tree in the woods,” Skulker said slowly, still hung on stupid details. “The last I checked, the human Lair you stayed in was still standing. I stopped there to show you my latest weapon but you weren’t there, I traced your signature here.”

“Congrats, pass go and collect $200,” Danny sniped back quietly, not putting any heat into it. He didn’t have much to spare.

“Why are you out here, all alone?” Skulker frowned, “humans are susceptible to the elements, I presume you’re no exception given your current state. Just this once, I will stay the hunt to return you to your human Lair and we shall resume at a later-”

“No, I can’t go back,” Danny gasped fearfully, he curled in deeper on himself. “My parents, they know about me, about my powers. They didn’t take it well, I can’t- I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“But those human children-”

“I’m not getting them involved in this, they’re already in too deep. Tucker’s still grounded from that incident with Desiree and if Sam’s parents caught me in her room at night I’d lose the other half of my miserable life,” Danny grumbled. “Just leave me alone or kill me and take my pelt. Either one, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I see,” Skulker hummed, “stay here, Child, I will return.” Skulker said before flying off.

“Great, can’t wait,” Danny murmured as he rearranged himself on his ice block. He still felt unbearably cold but it probably wasn’t enough to actually kill him. Probably. “Stupid ghosts, stupid powers, if I hadn’t walked into that stupid portal, I’d be be safe and warm in bed right now and only have to worry about passing pre-calc.” It felt like he’d barely fallen back asleep when he was forcibly awaken by something soft and heavy dropping on him.

He phased out of the tangle only to find a bunch of blankets and heavy winter coat that looked 2 sizes too big for him. “What the-”

“Wow you weren’t kidding, babe, he looks like a trainwreck,” he heard Ember’s gruff voice say. “Hey dummy, put on the stupid coat. I ain’t had nerve endings in a while but I’m getting cold just looking atcha.”

“You bring your girlfriend to harass me in the middle of the night with,” Danny eyed the pile with price tags still on them, “stolen merchandise.”

“Shut up, we’re crashing your pathetic little pity party so you don’t die before I can off you myself,” the rock star huffed. “If that coat isn’t on you in five seconds, I’m manhandling your skinny arms into it.”

“Jeez you’re worse than my sister,” Danny grumbled even as he pulled the coat on. It was big but fluffy, the extra layer instantly made him feel a bit better. “Happy?”

“Getting there. Techy, you brought the food or what?” Danny yelped as a large amount of food dropped in through his skylight. It was an interesting mix, a jumbo bag of peanuts, dijon mustard, a jar of pickled eggs, a couple bags of chips and a box of uncooked macaroni noodles. “Here, eat some human food.”

“What?” Danny questioned as Technus poked his head into the icy tree house. 

“Oh nice place you got here child but it needs more lights and a flat screen and, oh, I can set you up with a killer stereo system over eek!” the technology ghost yelped as he was pulled back and Poindexter replaced him. 

“Hey Danny, heard you were in a bit of a bind. Thanks to you, my Lair’s school is a better place now, bully free. You can cool your jets with me if you need to fly the coop.” Danny didn’t answer and instead opened one of the bags of chips, barbeque and ranch sweet. 

“You can also stay on my island for however long you need to recover,” Skulker grumbled, like it pained him to say. “It’s no fun to hunt you when you’re so weak. I want to defeat you at your prime not at your lowest.”

“No, no, come to my lair! Everything is beeping and flashing all the time and I have a Minecraft room!” Technus interjected.

“I guess you could come to mine if you have to,” Ember huffed. “But aren’t you also buddy buddy with the Yetis bein’ an ice core and all? Or Queen Dora? Pretty much anyone will open their lairs to you with your stupid, beaten puppy dog eyes.”

“You guys, I don’t know what to say,” Danny said softly, taken aback by the show of kindness. He took in the blankets, the coat, the food, their offers. They didn’t understand, not really, but they were trying. It meant a lot, coming from his enemies. “Thank you.”

“Well, yeah, us nerds got to stick together,” Poindexter grinned.

“You’re human and an annoyance but your existence has given my afterlife quite a thrill. I’m not ready for the hunt to end quite yet,” Skulker announced.

“You’re our favorite nemesis,” Technus exclaimed, trying to squeeze his face back through the packed skylight. “We fight, we banter but we also support each other when we’re down! Whenever I’m feeling down, I come into the human world and our battles have me back up and running in no time!”

“Huh,” Danny said, looking down with a small smile. If his enemies could put aside their grudges and help him when he needed it then maybe... “Thanks again really but uh, I think I should go home, check in with my folks. Probably shouldn’t have run off like that but um, if it goes bad...”

“You’re part ghost,” Skulker said with a sharp nod. “The Zone is as much your home as it is ours. Really should get around to making a Lair one of these days. Only weak ghosts and parasites leech off of others.”

“You know the way back from here?” Ember asked. “Need an entourage?” 

“Yeah I got it,” Danny answered, triggering his transformation. Poindexter squealed with delight as he phased out of his sad little ice cave. It looked cold and lonely which wasn’t what he needed right now. “And I’ll- it’ll be fine. I don’t think bringing a bunch of ghosts home with me will help my case.”

“Farewell, Child. May your spirits be higher on our next meeting. Having the support of ghost hunters will certainly add to the challenge of the hunt,” Skulker grinned. “I look forward to it.” He flew off and the others followed. Danny smiled, watching them go for a moment before flying in the opposite direction towards his house.

He was halfway home when the Fenton Assault Vehicle careened around a corner at an unsafe speed. Danny jumped as it went past, startled out of invisibility. He made eye contact with his parents before the RV skidded to a screeching halt and then hastily backed up. The window rolled down and he met the wide, teary eyes of his mom and dad.

“Uh funny running into you in a place like this,” he said shyly, looking down.

“Oh thank heavens, Danny where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” His mother cried, jumping out of the RV and pulling him down into her arms. His father was on the phone, he heard Jazz’s name being mentioned, along with Sam and Tucker. “Baby, you’re freezing! Is this,” she paused, pulling back and delicately touching his wisp like hair. “Is that normal?”

“Sort of,” he said, leaning back into her touch. “It’s all kind of a long story. I shouldn’t have run off like that, I’m sorry.”

“No, you shouldn’t have but I don’t blame you,” Dad said, stepping out of the car and wrapping them both in a hug. “But Fenton men always make up for their goof ups. You were headed back home, right?”

“Yeah, home,” Danny sighed.

“Danny, I still don’t understand but I, we, love you and I’m sorry if we made you doubt that. We’ll work it out, sweetie, I promise. That’s what family does,” Mom said before ushering him and Dad into the car. “Now in you get, it’s too cold and too late for this and I do not want the neighbors complaining to the HOA again.”

Danny changed back in front of his parents for the second time that evening, this time intentionally. Their curiosity and happiness at seeing him overrode their earlier fear and confusion. He settled more comfortably into the backseat, warm and happy for the first time all evening.

“Danno, where’s you get the jacket?” Dad asked.

“My other family, don’t worry, I’ll explain it all tomorrow.”

[stiltonbasket]

(Is this where you submit prompts? I really dont know ^^💧) Prompt for the renouncement au: I don’t know why i love when gossip is involved, so maybe something about people’s opinions on wangxian’s marriage and how it slowly changes to a better perspective to the point that anyone who doubts their feelings for each other gets immediately shut down. And you could add some juniors shenanigans to make wangxian have that good of a reputation because i miss them </3. Thank you for your time and effort! (And sorry if this is not the place for the prompts, i will submit it again if you say so ^^’ )

(author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

Lan Siyong considers himself one of the more moderate elders among the Lan sect. 

He has been close friends with Lan Qiren from childhood, and he saw Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji grow up into the fine, upstanding men they are today. When the two of them were boys, he even had fond thoughts of attending their weddings, and watching them take on the most sacred of duties with glad, willing hearts. 

Learning that Xichen would never wed had been a disappointment, but Lan Siyong rallied again when Lan Qiren confided the reason why the boy rejected marriage—chastity in an upstanding cultivator was to be lauded, especially in an age where Jin Guangshan had once demanded such high respect, and there could still be children born to Lan Huan if he decided to cultivate them. And of course, Wangji was there, and Lan Siyong knew from the first that he would be the kind of youth to fall in love deeply, at first sight, and remain passionately devoted to his mingding zhiren until he drew his last breath. 

But then Lan Siyong had Wangji’s own sword turned upon him at the Burial Mounds, because the one that his many-times distant nephew loved so dearly was none other than Wei Wuxian. 

“Qiren,” he says hoarsely, when the lotus-scented wedding invitations arrive from Lotus Pier. “You cannot let this happen—an unrighteous cultivator, one who spurned orthodoxy without remorse and led Wangji down such a dangerous path—”

“What has been done has been done,” Lan Qiren replies. “We have sent the bridewealth, and the marriage was contracted between Xichen and Jiang-zongzhu. All their terms have been agreed upon, and the date set.”

And then, after a brief pause: “He makes Wangji happy.”

Lan Siyong nearly cries. He does not attend the wedding, for fear of shaming Wangji with the open despair that appears on his face whenever he sees Wei Wuxian, and sends the newlywed couple the most expensive gift he can afford in an effort to do something useful. 

Wei Wuxian is the one who writes him a letter in thanks. Lan Siyong almost has a qi deviation.

__

“You know,” one of the other elders mutters after the second wedding ceremony: namely, the ceremony held in the Cloud Recesses, since Jiang-zongzhu demanded that his brother should be married at Lotus Pier first. “Wei Wuxian refused to have a blessing for children spoken at the an chuang ceremony.”

“Gossip is forbidden,” Lan Haiyang says tranquilly. He stopped caring about practically everything after his son’s wife gave birth to the whirlwind that calls himself Lan Jingyi, so Lan Siyong has long since given up relying on him to fix any kind of sect turmoil. “And they already have two children. I have not seen a finer Lan disciple than Lan Sizhui in all my days.”

Lan Siyong is forced to concede this last. Wangji has two good children, even if the Yiling Patriarch is perhaps the most unsuitable person alive to raise them with him, and a couple’s choice to expand their family is up to them, and no others.

“He should at least have let the blessing be spoken, though.”

Lan Siyong does not disagree with this. Traditions are traditions, and surely even Wei Wuxian should know to respect them once in a while. 

__

“It’s worse than I thought,” Lan Siyong murmurs, on a summer afternoon about six weeks after Wangji’s wedding. He passed Haiyang’s grandson and his friends on his way to the refectory that morning, and heard them discussing how heartbroken Wangji had looked upon hearing that Wei Wuxian did not return his love. “I ought not to have eavesdropped, but—poor Wangji!”

“Poor Wangji what?” Lan Haiyang asks, as if their little Lan Zhan being in trouble was all in another day’s work to him. “What’s happened to him now?”

“Wei Wuxian disavows Wangji’s love at every opportunity,” he replies dismally, going over to the refreshment table to drown his woes in chestnut cake and tea. “I fear for him, Haiyang. To love for so long, and to wed his beloved, and have children with him, and still…”

Lan Haiyang snorts into his tea. 

“What do you mean by that?” demands Lan Siyong, more than a little offended. “Wangji is in distress! We must do something!”

His friend does not reply. Honestly, it’s as if no one remembers what Wangji suffered for Wei Wuxian’s sake. Lan Siyong even tries raising the issue with Lan Qiren, and then with Xichen, but all he gets in return for his pains is a tray of fresh-baked red bean buns from the hanshi and another cryptic comment about Wangji’s supposed happiness from Qiren. 

Yet again, he is forced to leave his worries for another day, and try his best to follow rule three thousand, one hundred and sixty-two: that the affairs of a married couple should not be discussed by outsiders, even if they happen to be close, concerned family. 

Lan Siyong thinks his hair might be turning white by now.

__

And then, in early winter, Lan Siyong is roused from his bed one night and told that Wei Wuxian has gone missing. He joins the search party that Wangji leads, and follows him to a dark house in the woods with the Ghost General leading the way—and then he watches as Wangji kills at least a dozen men in an effort to reach his husband, whom they find unconscious in a cave beneath the house with corpse bites dotting every visible inch of his skin.

Lan Siyong nearly weeps as he hears Wangji’s desperate whispers to his beloved on the way back to Gusu, and watches him hold Wei Wuxian close while refusing help from anyone who offers.

Let him live, Lan Siyong prays silently, when Wei Wuxian is carried into the infirmary with Wangji at his side. Please, for Wangji’s sake, let Wei-gongzi live. 

__

“Qiren?”

A few days after the news about Wangji’s soon-to-be-born daughter is made public (public being a subjective word, since ceremony preceding the birth of a third child is unnecessary, and Wei Wuxian had said that he would rather wait until the baby arrives to make a formal announcement) Lan Siyong discovers Lan Qiren in one of the common rooms, sitting at a writing desk with his head buried in his hands. It’s a strange thing to see his friend do, since Lan Qiren has not looked so distressed since those three dark years after Wangji’s sentencing, and he hardly even looks up when Lan Siyong lays a hand on his shoulder. 

“It was just four weeks ago that Wei Ying was kidnapped and confined in that dungeon,” Lan Qiren says blankly, after he registers Lan Siyong’s presence and turns around to greet him. “If he—oh, heavens—”

Two weeks later, Lan Siyong requests a week’s leave from teaching to attend the trials of Wei Wuxian’s kidnappers, who are being held under Nie-zongzhu’s jurisdiction in the Unclean Realm. He has always believed himself to be a gentle man, but when the only sentences dealt are life imprisonment and execution, Lan Siyong’s heart is strangely devoid of any pity. All he can think of are the corpse bites he saw on Wei Wuxian’s face and throat, and a baby girl who nearly perished with her father before she had the chance to take her first breath. 

On his way back to the Cloud Recesses, he purchases a bolt of thick cream-colored silk with fine sky-blue embroidery and brings it to Wangji as a gift after the next monthly sect meeting.

“Xinhua-jun will need wider-cut robes before long,” he says, when his nephew gives him a curious glance before bowing low in thanks. “Zewu-jun has told us all that he and the child are in good health, and that the little one is growing well. All of our good wishes go with them both, and we pray that you should not hesitate to rely on us in the months to come if it should be needed.”

Wangji’s eyes go soft. “Thank you, San-shushu. It is much appreciated.”

__

Lan Siyong gets his first chance to hold Wei Shuilan at the baby’s full-moon ceremony, while Wangji and Wei Wuxian are running back and forth through the banquet hall to greet the arriving guests, and seize the first trusted elder they can reach to watch little A-Lan for a moment. At first, Lan Siyong merely stands by her cradle to keep an eye on her, but then she seems to sense her parents’ absence, so he picks her up and jogs her up and down to keep her from crying; and then he begins to hum softly beside her tiny ear, soothing the baby back to sleep by the time Wei Wuxian returns. 

“My good Lan-bao,” Wei Wuxian croons, cradling the child to his chest before rearranging her crumpled swaddling clothes. “Such a good baobei, to take your nap even with so much going on! Just like your A-Die, thank goodness, and not like your A-Niang.”

Curious, Lan Siyong clears his throat. “What do you mean, Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian laughs. “I never sleep properly at night, but Lan Zhan always falls asleep at hai shi, even if he isn’t in bed yet,” he says, with his voice so full of love for the newborn child in his arms and the husband who gave her to him that Lan Siyong feels strangely humbled. “A-Lan’s just like him that way.”

At that moment, Wangji appears with a plate of cut fruit and lotus cake before presenting it to Wei Wuxian. “Here, Wei Ying. Give A-Lan to me, and eat your lunch.”

“Lunch?” Wei Wuxian asks, confused. “But we’re having the banquet in just an hour.”

“You have been having your luncheon at this time for the past six months,” Wangji says stubbornly. “I will not have you going hungry even for a minute, xingan.”

“Lan Zhan, sweetheart…”

Thank heaven they found each other again, Lan Siyong thinks, slipping away to find Lan Qiren with a rising lump of tears in his throat. I do not think anyone else could have ever made Wangji so happy.

[fulane-de-tal]

Jews In A Room Archetypes:

the old woman in the rocking chair: funniest motherfucker in the room. i love these types. usually accompanied by a:

Old Guy. thinks he’s funny. old woman’s husband or son. you have to repeat your name to him like 20 times and no matter what he’s going to squint at you about it. usually wearing a patterned button up or hawaiian shirt.

The Couple: absolute kickass lady x guy who looks like he woke up 45 minutes ago and hasn’t quite landed back on earth. They have a kid who hovers somewhere in the middle of those two zones and is sometimes also:

The Informed Youth: culturally aware. delights in reconfigured traditions. probably speaks, like, lithuanian or something among 5 other languages

The Yiddishist (not to be confused with the one person who thinks they’re a yiddishist but only remembers the things their bubbe said 50 years ago and might start talking about how “it’s a dialect of german” and/or freeballing transliterations)

the Ladino Preservationist: a rare species

The Rich Uncle: often MENA, this guy shows up in a brown suit and an atrocious tie/sock combo that looks like it was stolen from the late 1980s. he’s in his late 50s. has at least one completely batshit hobby and one less batshit hobby that only reinforces his rich guy status. great with kids. probably smoking a cigar.

Food Bringer: you’re going to eat so good when you have one of these types at the function

A Christian For Some Reason? there’s always one

Gary and Norma: most middle of the road couple ever to exist. completely neutral. bland but generally nice.

The Baby Traditionalist: this one is relatively young, probably coming back after one or more assimilationist-type generations. trying really hard and maybe trying too hard? seeking the stability of culture and religion but is teetering near the edge of philosemitism. probably has a convoluted jewish folklore tattoo on their arm.

Lesbian(s)

Orthodox or Ex-Orthodox Homie: usually very kind. also absolutely hilarious dude. might say some bonkers stuff but it’s almost never not great. maybe don’t let them have too much wine (risk of song or story)

New Arrival: young. not from here. painfully awkward. usually opens up when approached by one of the various Old Person types. might secretly be one of the Youth Types waiting to emerge in a new environment.

these Jews In A Room may engage in behaviors such as:

Offering Food (no, really, have more. really! what, you aren’t hungry? you have allergies? i’ll have my husband bring something out for you. really! please , eat, take some leftovers, you can’t leave if you haven’t eaten! please, we have so many dolmas i can’t keep them after this, you’re doing me a favor, take some of this while you have the plate…)

Jewish Geography (what, you’re from california? do you know my cousin moshe? oh, he goes to beth el down by…)

Family (my mother… what a woman. did i ever tell you how my father met her?)

Kvetching (too hot, too cold, health, old age, life’s daily woes, the state of the world, politics of other countries, what Marty said over breakfast the other day that we still haven’t let go…)

Gossip

Spontaneous Song (oy oy oy and yai dai dai and lai lai lai if you don’t know the words but if everyone is drunk enougg it doesn’t even matter)

Discussing The Holocaust (this is ALWAYS initiated by someone over the age of 80. it gets dark. you can’t see it coming.)

Reading (someone’s going to end up on a chair with a book and it’s going to be the most niche book ever made) (New Arrivals are masters at this)

i love the various phenomena that happen when multiple jews are in a room… we really have archetypes

[bills-bible-basics]

JESUS IS OUR SABBATH -- KJV (King James Version) Bible Verse List King James Version Bible verse list compiled by Bill Kochman concerning the topic "Jesus is Our Sabbath". Visit my page at https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/ to see all the lists I've compiled to date. Thanks! In direct contrast to the Scribes and the Pharisees, Jesus came to set us free. He did not come to place a new and heavier legalistic yoke upon any of our shoulders. He took the weight of sin and death, as well as the weight and the demands of the Mosaic Law, and placed them upon His very own shoulders, thus becoming the Lord of the Sabbath, and our only true rest, when we trust in Him alone. "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28-30, KJV "For the Son of man is Lord even of the sabbath day." Matthew 12:8, KJV "For they [the Scribes and the Pharisees] bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers." Matthew 23:4, KJV "Therefore the Son of man is Lord also of the sabbath." Mark 2:28, KJV "And there was delivered unto him the book of the prophet Esaias. And when he had opened the book, he found the place where it was written, The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, To preach the acceptable year of the Lord." Luke 4:17-19, KJV "And he said unto them, That the Son of man is Lord also of the sabbath." Luke 6:5, KJV "And he said, Woe unto you also, ye lawyers! for ye lade men with burdens grievous to be borne, and ye yourselves touch not the burdens with one of your fingers." Luke 11:46, KJV "Then said Jesus to those Jews which believed on him, If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed; And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free . . . If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." John 8:31-32, 36, KJV "And when there had been much disputing, Peter rose up, and said unto them, Men and brethren . . . Now therefore why tempt ye God, to put a yoke upon the neck of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear? But we believe that through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ we shall be saved, even as they." Acts 15:7, 10-11, KJV "And after they had held their peace, James answered, saying, Men and brethren, hearken unto me . . . Wherefore my sentence is, that we trouble not them, which from among the Gentiles are turned to God: But that we write unto them, that they abstain from pollutions of idols, and from fornication, and from things strangled, and from blood." Acts 15:13, 19-20, KJV "And they wrote letters by them after this manner; The apostles and elders and brethren send greeting unto the brethren which are of the Gentiles in Antioch and Syria and Cilicia: Forasmuch as we have heard, that certain which went out from us have troubled you with words, subverting your souls, saying, Ye must be circumcised, and keep the law: to whom we gave no such commandment . . . For it seemed good to the Holy Ghost, and to us, to lay upon you no greater burden than these necessary things; That ye abstain from meats offered to idols, and from blood, and from things strangled, and from fornication: from which if ye keep yourselves, ye shall do well. Fare ye well." Acts 15: 23-24, 28-29, KJV "And that because of false brethren unawares brought in, who came in privily to spy out our liberty which we have in Christ Jesus, that they might bring us into bondage:" Galatians 2:4, KJV "O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you, that ye should

not obey the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been evidently set forth, crucified among you? This only would I learn of you, Received ye the Spirit by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith? Are ye so foolish? having begun in the Spirit, are ye now made perfect by the flesh? Have ye suffered so many things in vain? if it be yet in vain." Galatians 3:1-4, KJV "But now, after that ye have known God, or rather are known of God, how turn ye again to the weak and beggarly elements, whereunto ye desire again to be in bondage? . . . Tell me, ye that desire to be under the law, do ye not hear the law? For it is written, that Abraham had two sons, the one by a bondmaid, the other by a freewoman. But he who was of the bondwoman was born after the flesh; but he of the freewoman was by promise. Which things are an allegory: for these are the two covenants; the one from the mount Sinai, which gendereth to bondage, which is Agar. For this Agar is mount Sinai in Arabia, and answereth to Jerusalem which now is, and is in bondage with her children. But Jerusalem which is above is free, which is the mother of us all." Galatians 4:9, 21-26, KJV "Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage." Galatians 5:1, KJV Please also consider reading the following articles: • Are Christians Obligated to Keep the Sabbath? • Dead to the Law: God's Laws Written on Our Hearts If you would like more info regarding the origin of these KJV Bible verse lists, go to https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/. Thank-you! https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/jesus-is-our-sabbath-kjv-king-james-version-bible-verse-list/?feed_id=18912&_unique_id=6397b71fa2657&JESUS%20IS%20OUR%20SABBATH%20--%20KJV%20%28King%20James%20Version%29%20Bible%20Verse%20List

[fandom-space-princess]

The Game of Us

Rating: T (gen, no warnings)

Chapter 4: Lucifer

“You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here? It’s over. I’d say you won, but I get the feeling we both lost, after all. Isn’t that enough? Can’t you leave me in peace?”

“Is this peace?” Michael asks quietly. “What you have here?”

Lucifer bends a leg up to curl arms around it, rests his chin on his knee. “I am very good at being alone, Michael.” Michael winces, but that curious flatness is back in Lucifer’s voice; the words, for all that they should be an accusation, hold only stale resignation. “Better than you know.”

Read below the cut, or on AO3

************************************

“Why are we here? Who are you, that you would ask this of us?”

The man—and he is a man, now, for all that his form remains indistinct at the edges—regards him critically. “You continue to plead ignorance on each of those points, but come now. We both know better.”

Michael says nothing, but his shoulders slump in resignation.

“I had hoped... well. It doesn’t matter.”

“Denial can protect you in some circumstances, spur you to action in others. It will do neither in this case, and you know that. Your Maker will not return for you, Mikha’el, not now and not ever. He was never the being you believed Him to be, but that is hardly your fault. Come to terms with it, and move forward. You have responsibilities to attend to.”

The man strides off, unwilling to slow his pace, and Michael plods after him. Each step is a challenge; the mass of disquiet and unease he carries feels more of a burden the farther he goes. He studies his feet as he walks. There is one thing he cannot deny now, at least: he is certain that he no longer looks like Chuck. Whatever image he does currently project, his benefactor has no commentary to make on the subject. His thoughts lie decidedly elsewhere.

“I am here to restore balance to reality,” he continues. “Nothing more, and nothing less. It is my sole and solemn role in this universe, and it is one I take quite seriously. Whatever your Father intended for His creation, your presence is required for that balance to hold—all four of you. Recent events have threatened irreversible catastrophe. I refuse to let this come to pass.”

He thinks of Raphael, immovable and still in their mourning. “All of us?”

The man waves his hand, dismissive. “Save your worrying for where it’s needful. The healer will come along in due time. We have—reached an accord.” He pauses. “Talking of needs, you still have one brother left to convince. Bit of a hard sell, I’m afraid you’ll find.”

His grace roils within him, but he feels the shape he wears begin to solidify. The space around him begins to brighten, bit by bit. “If I fail to convince him... what becomes of us? What will you do?”

The man fixes him with a stony look.

“What I always do. To wit: clean up the mess of those around me. Believe me, reinstating the four of you is by far my preferred option; a good deal more pleasant for all of us, all things considered. But if that option is unavailable to me, I will do what I must.”

The man smiles. He thinks the expression might be intended as gentleness. “I have the utmost faith in you. Appreciate what you are being given, First of Heaven. Take advantage of it to the fullest, while the opportunity is still available to you.” He shrugs, and motions for Michael to walk ahead without him.

“Not everyone is offered a second chance.”

************************************

The path under his feet may be constant, but around him reality ebbs and flows like the tide, hills and forest eddying away on the greater currents of night. He focuses only on the path, on keeping his feet under him; ignores the pull of psychic undertow that threatens to drag him down.

I am not like my Father, he thinks as he walks. It stings. He feels carefully around the edges of the thought, tries to grasp it again. I am not my Father’s creature. That one hurts too. I am not the son He wanted me to be.

The light surrounding Michael continues to brighten, a dim but insistent glow.

He was not the Father I thought I had .

That one hurts worst of all.

What am I, if not the son to the Father I thought I knew? What is my purpose, if I do not serve?

Without noticing, he has begun to climb. The path winds slowly up, toward the peak of a hillside overlooking the expanse of the sea. It is only when he crests the hill and comes face-to-face with a low stone wall that he realizes what this place is meant to be.

It has been millennia since he last gave thought to the Oracle of the Dead.

He runs his hands across the memory of stone, worn smooth by time in some places, pitted in others by the salt-sea air. Twenty paces along the perimeter of the wall, and a gap in the earth yawns open before him. Rough-hewn steps lead downward to a shadowed door. He thinks of the gate to the Cage, and shudders.

He has come this far. For his brothers, for himself—he can do this.

Michael descends, and the ground closes in around him.

************************************

Though he has never set foot in this place corporeally, knowledge is a map etched into his grace. An antechamber, high and vaulted, stands between himself and the temple’s ceremonial gates. Through these, human mourners and congregants would have passed to seek communion with their dead. A labyrinthine warren of lesser tunnels spreads out from this point as well. Passages to more intimate chambers in which those same seekers would have made preparation: catechesis from holy priests and cleansing by water and by more esoteric means. They would have walked their own paths to this destination, he thinks. They would have made sacrifices.

His own path will have to serve as purification enough. Inhaling deeply, he passes under the first gate. As he does so, the light surrounding him brightens.

There is no denying the source of that light, now.

Beyond the first gate, the way descends again, switchback tunnels with secrets hovering just beyond his grasp around each corner. And yet, he feels as though he’s gaining ground: for every step nearer his destination, his will is becoming more focused, achieving something like surety. He can feel it in the settling of his grace, in the resolution of the image he is now all but certain he projects.

At the second gate, he hears the distant rumble of water. The way beyond is flat, and straight. Five hundred feet on, the third gate looms.

Shadows flicker around him, though the torches set into the dusty walls have long since forgotten flame.

As he draws near the final threshold, he sees them, out of the corners of his eyes. He’d had few enough occasions to manifest them during his brief time on Earth, but now he cannot seem to do anything else.

The trailing edges of his wings, pulled tight to his shoulders, brush the walls of the tunnel. They’re glowing, what of them he is able to see, casting light in this darkest of places.

The light is like...

Michael shivers.

Like the dawn.

************************************

The final gate opens, not onto any chamber carved by the hands of man, but a natural grotto, rock worn away over the span of centuries. The river pours through a crack in the ground far above. Its name whispers in his mind, hallowed and ancient: Acheron. It spills forty feet through open air before spending its energy in a churning subterranean pool. Light from his wings refracts through the waterfall, dancing and shimmering across the walls.

Then again... not solely from his wings.

The figure seated at the foot of the waterfall stares into it, and does not look up as he approaches.

“Why are you here?” Lucifer asks. The words come out flat, oddly empty. As though it were not truly a question he cared to hear the answer for. “What could possibly bring our Father’s favorite son to the edge of the river of woe?”

Michael walks past him, circling the edge of his field of vision. He feels the moment Lucifer turns to lay eyes on him for the first time. Senses the hard edge of immediacy his focus gains.

At least he has his attention. He sighs. For all that he knows what to do with it.

He seats himself at the edge of the pool, extending one unshod foot out to dangle over the water. Studies his reflection, looking back up at him. Everything about the face he wears is sharp: high carved cheekbones and ice-chip eyes, blond curls smooth as cut diamond. He glows brightly, now, as though he has swallowed the sun; a luminescence that overflows, spilling out across skin and wings and pulsing a song of home holy bright pure home home home.

The Lightbringer’s first form had always been radiant.

His reflection is abruptly joined by its double in the water. Lucifer settles next to him, staring openly.

“You mock me.”

Michael grimaces. “I don’t. This place... if there is any mocking to be done, I’m a far worthier target than you are.” Lucifer reaches out to him, caution and curiosity warring across his face. With the tips of his fingers at Michael’s jaw, he turns his head. Examines his duplicate with narrowed eyes. After a moment, he draws back, and his gaze returns to the waterfall.

A glint of metal catches his eye, and Michael flinches. Thick golden manacles encircle Lucifer’s wrists. He can’t believe he has failed to noticed them until now. Though his brother seems undisturbed by them, Michael knows how heavy they must be.

“You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here? It’s over. I’d say you won, but I get the feeling we both lost, after all. Isn’t that enough? Can’t you leave me in peace?”

“Is this peace?” Michael asks quietly. “What you have here?”

Lucifer bends a leg up to curl arms around it, rests his chin on his knee. “I am very good at being alone, Michael.” Michael winces, but that curious flatness is back in Lucifer’s voice; the words, for all that they should be an accusation, hold only stale resignation. “Better than you know.”

For several long moments, the only sound is the crash of the water.

“I was told to come to you,” he ventures finally. Lucifer’s gaze snaps to him, and Michael fights a sudden impulse to squirm under it.

“By whom?”

Michael shakes his head sadly. “Not... not Him.”

The spark in Lucifer’s eyes fades as rapidly as it had appeared. He tilts his head and squints, as though listening to a conversation just at the edge of hearing. A blink, then he scowls. “Ah. Him, then. What does he want? I’m dead. So far as he should be concerned, his job is complete. Can’t get much deader.”

“We’ve been tasked to return to the world. Our Father no longer orders the universe. Without us, reality stands to fall to ruin. I was commanded to bring you back with me.”

Lucifer stares at him, wide-eyed and incredulous. Then he tips his head back, a bark of laughter tearing free from his throat.

“You—you honestly think I’ll come with you. Why, exactly? An overabundance of goodwill? A sense of camaraderie? Family? You took a few too many blows to the head in life, O Best-Beloved Son. What has reality been for me but pain?”

His grin is serene, beautiful, and all the more vicious for it.

”The world can burn.”

He turns away. Glides languidly to the lip of the pool, and extends an arm to let the mist from the waterfall dance across his fingers.

“I don’t think it is peace I have here.” Water runs down his hand, collects over the metal at his wrist. He watches it bead and fall, a slow and steady drip. “But at least I have certainty. You know, I never really let myself believe that it would play out like this? I should have understood you better, but I always...” He glances back at Michael, then shakes his head. “... you were always His, at the expense of everything else. Everyone else. That’s all He made you to be.”

The air between them is stretched taut, tense and fraying. Michael feels it in his bones, the ease with which he could snap it.

Instead, he stands, and paces to Lucifer’s side. Lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry."

Lucifer tenses under his touch.

“You aren’t,” he spits. “You’re desperate, and you’re serving a master. Just like you’ve always done.” He turns abruptly to face Michael, all cold and sudden fury, and grasps his wrist.

“I am,” Michael says. He lets the remorse resonate in his voice, and knows Lucifer hears it when he snarls in return.

“Too little, too late, Mike. All I’ve ever been is the means to someone else’s end.” He shoves Michael back a step. “The universe needs me so much? Well, good riddance to the universe. Nothing Dad made is worth saving. Nothing.”

His wrath is incandescent, a blaze of grace through the air around them. He advances on Michael; poised to do what, Michael isn’t sure. Lucifer raises a hand, as though to strike him, or push him away again? And—

Michael sinks to his knees before him, and bows his head. It startles Lucifer into stillness.

“You are.”

"What? "

“You are,” Michael repeats, barely a whisper. “Worth saving. Gabriel is, and Raphael is, and you are. And if you don’t agree...” His breath hitches, and his eyes clench shut. “Then I won’t fight you. I haven’t earned the right, and I know that. But I’m not leaving here, either. If everything ends, then it ends.” He inhales deeply. “But I won’t let you stay here and burn out of existence alone.”

In the space between heartbeats that follows, the silence is absolute. Even the sound of the water vanishes. Michael opens his eyes, and dares to peer up at Lucifer.

His face is blank with shock.

“You don’t mean that,” he grits out, but the conviction has gone out of it.

“I do.”

He drops to the ground beside Michael, head falling into his hands. Cautiously, a millimeter at a time, Michael extends a wing. Until, at last, it drapes across Lucifer’s shoulders.

“Come with me,” Michael asks. “Please. Gabriel and Raphael are already waiting. We can move forward. Become something new, something beyond Him. Together.”

From behind his hands Lucifer chokes on a laugh that transforms partway through into something more closely resembling a sob. “How?” he asks. Michael hears the rest of the thought, unspoken but weighty: how can we leave this behind? How do I move forward?

Gently, he tugs Lucifer’s hands from his face. Takes them in his own.

“Drink from the river.”

Lucifer’s gaze flashes to the waterfall, and the corner of his mouth quirks in what might be amusement, voice thick with emotion. “Cleanse myself like the humans did, huh? ‘Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.’ I have to admit it has... style.” He chuckles.

Michael smiles back at him. “Nothing about this is what I expected it to be. Least of all our benefactor’s sense of humor.”

They pull each other to their feet, and Lucifer turns to face the river.

“Better than the last time I interacted with him. Guess that’s an apology I owe. Though I suppose I’ll be seeing him soon enough.” He steps forward, then looks back at Michael. “Hey, Mike?”

“Yes?”

“Not that this isn’t a good look on you—” A broad, sweeping gesture indicates Michael’s still-radiant form, identical to his own. “But I hope you can find something that suits you better. He can’t define you any more, no more than He can define me. Even by virtue of opposition.” He extends both hands out into the waterfall, water trickling down his arms as before. This time, when it makes contact with the golden metal at his wrists, the manacles dissolve away, mist into mist.

He watches them go, an unreadable expression on his face.

“We both deserve to be more than that.”

He dips his head to his cupped hands, and drinks.

************************************

(Chapter notes:

- Latin from the Aeneid. “If I cannot bend the will of Heaven, I shall move Hell.” Acheronta in the case of the original quote being Virgil’s colloquialism for the underworld as a whole, in addition to the name of the river.

- The setting here is very, very loosely based on descriptions of the Nekromanteion of Acheron. The original purpose of the temple was the practice of necromancy, and to pay tribute to Hades and Persephone. People would come to the temple to cleanse themselves before seeking to speak with the dead. As a place to reinvent yourself so completely that you end up literally reincarnated, it seemed fitting :) )

[purrincess-chat]

Kill Em With Kindness CH5

So, I know I said I wasn’t going to update again until I finished the rest of this, but my secret MDCSP project is taking up a majority of my writing time now, so I haven’t been in the mood to work on this one, so rather than keeping you all in suspense even longer, I decided to go ahead and post chapter 5 since it’s finished. But for reals next time I update, I will be finished. There are only 2 chapters left, so I’ll get to them eventually so the final two updates can be close together.

Read on AO3

Chapter 5

Marinette laid back on her chaise, humming along to Jagged’s newest single Liar. Adrien’s interview had just ended, so she kept her phone nearby for his inevitable call. While she knew about the rumors spreading about them, she still hadn’t been prepared to hear Adrien tell the world they were just friends on live TV. Part of her hoped that this thing with Lila would bring them closer, and it had—just not in the way she wanted. No matter. There would be plenty of time for flirting after Lila was taken care of.

When her phone buzzed, she lowered the volume on her playlist and answered. “Nice job on the interview.”

“Thanks. We’re in good shape for tomorrow. Clara told me she’s really looking forward to our shopping trip,” Adrien said. “I can’t wait to see the look on Lila’s face when Clara posts about her new fashion advisor.”

“Do you really think she’ll do it? I mean, I still have to impress her with my choices tomorrow. What if she hates everything I pick out?” Marinette bit her lip.

“Relax. You’ll do fine. I know you will,” he assured her. “Clara really respects you. She told me earlier that she’s hoping you two can be good friends.”

“For real?” Marinette shot upright.

“Yeah, for real,” Adrien laughed. “Funny how almost everything Lila lies about is coming true for you now.”

“Well, she has one thing on me. Jagged did write a song about her…” Marinette turned the volume up with a smirk.

I see through your disguise. Can’t touch me with your little lies.

Adrien chuckled at that. “Maybe we’ll make an honest girl out of her.”

“Doubt it. She loves the attention too much,” Marinette said with an eye roll. “But we’re the ones with the real connections, so we still have the high ground.”

“And we have each other. I promise I won’t let her get you ever again, Marinette. If she tries to hurt you, she’ll have to go through me.” Marinette’s cheeks warmed, and she leaned back against the pillow, trailing her thumb over her lucky charm.

“Thanks, Adrien. It means a lot to know you’ll always be there for me,” she said.

“Of course. You’re a dear friend, Marinette, and I know you’d do the same for me.”

She smiled up at her ceiling, pressing a soft kiss to the lucky charm as if it were his cheek. “See you tomorrow?”

“Let’s make Lila regret coming after you.”

***

Raindrops pattered against Lila’s umbrella on the abandoned street corner. Most citizens had moved inside to avoid the downpour, but Lila barely batted an eye. She had business to attend to.

Her mental clock ticked away the seconds until a silver car rolled to a stop to her left. She kept her eyes forward as the window rolled down, and Gabriel glared out at her. It wasn’t that he held any personal disdain for her. Gabriel glared at everyone.

“I’m growing impatient, Lila. Every time I turn around, I see my son with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I thought you said you could handle her,” he said, and Lila’s jaw clenched.

“I’ve run into a few hiccups, but I assure you, I can take her out for good. I just need more time,” she said, watching the droplets splatter against the ground.

Focusing kept her from losing her temper. While it was incredibly tempting, Lila couldn’t afford to lose Gabriel now. She wanted to scream about how Adrien was plotting against her. That Marinette had been playing dirty. But Gabriel didn’t care for excuses. He needed results, so if Marinette was taking low blows, Lila would throw a few of her own.

“Perhaps it might help you to know that she and Adrien will be out shopping with Clara Nightingale tomorrow afternoon. Clara hopes that Marinette can give her fashion advice. She has dreams of being a designer, you know,” Gabriel said. “It would be a shame if something got in the way of those dreams.”

A smirk curled on Lila’s lips, the calm reassurance of Gabriel’s support relaxing her shoulders. “Understood.”

***

“Don’t be nervous.”

Marinette ripped her gaze away from the window and removed her fingers from her mouth. Wiping the chewed nubs on her pants, she let out a breath and began tapping her feet instead. Adrien gave her a soft smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You’ll do great. Just relax,” Adrien said as they rolled up to Gabriel’s boutique.

Nathalie climbed from the front seat and opened the door for them, and Marinette took a deep breath.

“You’re right. I can do this. Clara wants to be my friend, so everything is going to be totally fi-” Her voice trailed off as they climbed from the car, blood running cold.

“Marinette? What’s wro- oh, no.” Adrien stopped in his tracks as Clara approached with the only person on the planet who could ruin this trip.

“Hey, Marinette, Adrien.”

Lila.

“Marinette, it’s so good to see you. This girl says she’s a friend of yours too,” Clara said, pulling her in for a hug.

“Thank you two so much for inviting me to come along on this trip. I’m such a big fan of yours, Clara, and when Marinette told me she was nervous about picking out your outfits today, I was happy to come along and assist,” Lila said with a sugary grin. “Marinette and I share a love of fashion, and we bounce ideas off each other all the time. Isn’t that right, Marinette?”

“I wouldn’t say all the time,” Marinette grunted, crossing her arms over her chest, and at Clara’s curious expression she added, “because you travel so much, right, Lila?”

“It’s true. There are so many countries out there that need our help. I’m just doing my best where I can,” Lila said, pressing a hand to her forehead in a ‘woe is me’ fashion.

“How very noble of you. I can sense a deep bond between you two,” Clara said, and Marinette suppressed an eye roll. Nothing bonded people more than mutual hatred. “Well, there’s nothing to stand out here for, so let’s go in the door.”

Lila shot Marinette a pointed grin the moment Clara turned her back, and Marinette exchanged nervous looks with Adrien. This trip had just gotten a lot more complicated.

An employee let them in, the boutique having been closed for their private shopping spree, and Clara twirled around with a cheery squeal. “I’m so happy having you all here. Nothing’s better than spending time with friends so dear.”

“The pleasure is all ours,” Lila said, linking arms with Adrien.

“Ya know, I’m kind of in the mood for coffee. Why don’t you and I go get some, Lila? Nathalie can accompany us,” Adrien said, tugging her toward the door, but Clara’s bodyguard stood in the way.

“There’s no need for that today. Mme. Nathalie, will you fetch some straight away?” Clara said, and Nathalie nodded.

“Of course. You all carry on,” Nathalie said, oblivious to Adrien’s pleading look.

Adrien shot Marinette an apologetic wince, but she didn’t blame him. They should have expected something like this from Lila, so they would just have to navigate this one on the fly. It was risky, but Marinette had a plan.  

“Clara, why don’t we make this a little more fun? Why don’t Lila and I could both pick out outfits for you, and you could choose the one you like better. That way you have more options,” Marinette suggested, and Clara took her hands, twirling her around.

“I have been wanting to change my style, so let’s see what you two compile. For my first look, let’s keep it easy, an evening dress that’s not too cheesy,” Clara said before shimmying off to the dressing rooms.

“Not so fun, is it?” Lila said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t know how you got in, but-” Marinette held up a hand to cut Adrien off.

“It’s fine. If Lila wants to play designer. We’ll let her,” she said before turning and stalking toward a rack on the other end of the store.

She shifted through hangers as Adrien fell in beside her. “Are you sure about this?”

“Look, Clara asked me to come on this trip, so obviously she respects my opinion. Not to mention your father, Audrey Bourgeois, and Jagged Stone have all praised my work in the past. I can beat her,” she said, meeting his gaze, and Adrien blinked in surprise.

“Anything I can do to help?” He asked, but Marinette shook her head.

“No. I have to do this on my own,” she said, grabbing a couple dresses from the rack and heading for shoes.

“You’ve got this, Marinette,” he said with a grin.

Marinette’s heart pounded as she assembled her outfit, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins only fueled her determination. Lila could challenge her in a lot of things, but fashion was hers. No amount of lying or deceit could take that away from her. She would beat Lila no matter what.

“I have your coffee.” Nathalie reappeared with two cups in a paper tray.

“Thanks, Nathalie,” Adrien said.

“Have you picked out your outfit, Marinette? I can take it to Clara for you,” Nathalie offered, and Marinette nodded, exchanging the garment bag for the tray.

“Thank you!” She bowed, and as Nathalie sauntered off, she let out a breath.

“Don’t worry. Clara will see the one with real talent in just a few minutes. No way Lila beats you,” Adrien said, and Marinette offered him a smile, taking a swig of her coffee before they made their way to the platform outside the dressing room to wait.

“She’s trying on Marinette’s pick first,” Clara’s assistant announced, and Marinette held her breath as the curtains parted.

Clara stepped out in a lime green skirt, a neon orange tiger-print shirt, a pair of red heels, and a black feathered hat, and Marinette’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

“Marinette, your choices are a little off the wall. I’m not sure I’d have paired these at all,” Clara said, examining herself in the mirror.

“But that’s not-” She stopped short, shooting a cutting glare at Lila. Her fists shook, angry tears burning her eyes. Accusations formed on her tongue, but she bit them back.

Of course Lila wasn’t going to play fair. She should have known better. Without even realizing, she’d played right into her trap. There was no way to win because Lila already stacked the odds against her.

“This must be a mistake. Marinette didn’t pick any of those things,” Adrien said, stepping forward. “Her bag probably got switched.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t pick that outfit,” Lila said, pressed a hand to her lips to hide her smirk.

Clara tapped her chin with a hum then turned to Nathalie. “You brought Marinette’s bag to me. Do you know where the real one could be?”

“I placed it on the rack for you, and then I brought your coffee. I’m not sure what happened after that,” Nathalie said.

“Hmm…This is quite the mystery, but this outfit not being Marinette’s is something I’m glad to see,” Clara said, giving it one last disgruntled look in the mirror. “Having you come on this trip was such a delight, so I’ll give you one more chance to get it right.”

“Thank you, Clara!” Marinette breathed a sigh of relief.

“In the meantime, why don’t you try on my outfit, Clara?” Lila said, casting an impish smile over her shoulder at Marinette.

“It would be my pleasure. Let’s see how your picks measure.”

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest as Clara retreated to the changing room and turned to Adrien. “I should have known she’d try something underhanded like this to make her outfit seem better. I can’t believe I fell for it,” she sighed, flashing Lila a sardonic grin when she waved to them.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on her next round so she can’t switch your outfit out for something lame,” Adrien whispered as Clara emerged from the stall.

“Now this is what I’m talking about. This outfit is totally me, no doubt.” Clara hopped onto the platform and gave a twirl, and Marinette nearly blew her top.

“But that’s-” Marinette started, clamping a hand over her mouth. “A great choice. I would have picked the same thing.”

Only she had because it was hers. Lila hadn’t just swapped her outfit for a ridiculous one—she’d outright taken it. Marinette could beat her easily, and Lila knew that. Rather than just make Marinette look ridiculous, Lila took it one step further and used Marinette’s talent to make herself look better. If there weren’t so many other people in the room, Marinette would have transformed on the spot and ripped her head off!

“Lila, your understanding of my style is quite profound. Marinette will have to try harder next round,” Clara said, admiring the stolen red dress. “For my next look, I want something more hearty—an outfit that will make me the life of the party!”

Marinette stormed from the dressing area, and Adrien followed her to the men’s changing room on the other side of the store. Pulling the curtain closed behind them, Marinette leaned against the wall with a huff, cupping her cheeks.

“Lila was ready for that. She’s catching up,” Adrien said, taking the wall across from her and crossing his arms over his chest.

“She’s already caught up, and now she’s ahead of us.” Marinette shook her head. “We need to gain back some ground.”

“What should we do?”

Marinette drummed her fingers on her jeans before digging out her phone. Adrien didn’t question as she dialed furiously then pressed the phone to her ear. She answered on the third ring.

“Hey, girl, how’s your shopping trip going?”

“Alya, I need you to do me a favor.”

***

Adrien paced across the floor to where Lila sifted through a rack. She didn’t look up as he approached, but an amused smile curled on her lips.

“Marinette has such strange taste, don’t you think?” She asked, holding up a bright green blazer.

“I told you to leave her alone,” Adrien said, and Lila rolled her eyes.

“And yet every time I mess with her, you do nothing,” she said, returning the jacket to the rack. “You could end this whole charade right now by telling Clara you didn’t really invite me, but you’re not going to do that, are you? Because that wouldn’t be very nice.”

“I mean it, Lila. You’re messing with Marinette’s dreams, and that’s not okay.” She examined his stern expression with amusement.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” She asked, and Adrien held her expression for a long moment before stalking off.

Marinette was finishing her second outfit when Adrien rejoined the group by the dressing room, and this time, Marinette personally handed Clara the bag. Adrien stood guard by the curtain, shooting daggers at Lila the moment she approached which only made her chuckle under her breath. He wasn’t taking any chances. Lila wasn’t going to ruin Marinette’s dreams. He’d see to it.

When Clara emerged, she skipped onto the platform and gave a twirl. “Now this is a party outfit that’ll make me dance! I’m so glad I gave you a second chance.”

“You look awesome, Clara. Marinette is super talented when her actual picks don’t get switched around,” Adrien said pointedly.

“I couldn’t agree more. This outfit is one I simply adore!” Clara said, stepping down to take Marinette’s hands. “Your style is simply the best. When it comes to fashion, there’s no contest.”

“Thank you, Clara. That means the world coming from you,” Marinette said, that spark of confidence returning to her eyes.

Lila’s jaw clenched, and Adrien high-fived Marinette. For added insult, he draped an arm over her shoulders as Clara tried on Lila’s outfit. It didn’t matter what Lila had picked; she was no match for Marinette when they were competing honestly.

“Hmm,” Clara hummed, twisting in the mirrors to see the dress from all angles. “A lovely choice, don’t get me wrong, but this outfit just isn’t my song. Your first choice was far more on the nose, and I’ve got to be honest, these shoes are hurting my toes.”

“That’s okay. Marinette is incredibly talented. The only reason I won the first round was because of that mix-up. I’m sure she’s got something amazing up her sleeve for this next round too,” Lila said, curling her shoulders in the fakest show of humility Adrien had ever seen.

“Then let’s not waste any more time. I can’t wait to try on an outfit so divine. Tonight I will be Nadja’s TV guest, so let’s see which one of you is really the best!”

---

As Marinette took off, Adrien shot Lila a warning look before following after her. It was cute that he thought he could intimidate her into being nice, but Lila had direct orders. Things were going exactly as planned, and those two idiots were falling right into her trap. Soon Marinette’s aspirations would be nothing more than a pipe dream.

When Nathalie emerged from the back with a garment bag, Lila sauntered over to meet her. “Is this my dress?”

Nathalie responded by offering Lila her phone, and Lila pressed it to her ear.

“Nathalie tells me everything is going according to plan,” Gabriel said on the other line.

“Of course, Mr. Agreste. Marinette thinks she’s getting ahead, but with your help I’ll make sure her dreams are crushed for good. Then she’ll be sure to stay away from Adrien,” she said like a dutiful student.

“Good. I’m counting on you,” Gabriel said before hanging up, and Lila lifted the bag with a smirk.

Marinette chose the wrong opponent to challenge, and Lila was about to prove that she didn’t lie about everything. She really was going to take everything from Marinette. Clara was just step one.

---

“I still don’t trust Lila,” Adrien whispered while Marinette browsed the wall of shoes.

“Don’t worry about her. We’re onto her little game now, so it’s impossible for her to steal my outfit again, and we both know Clara prefers my picks to hers now without a doubt,” Marinette said, sounding confident, and under normal circumstances, Adrien would have been proud. Lila, however, was not normal circumstances.

“I know you’re better than her, but I just have a bad feeling. I don’t trust her,” Adrien said, glancing at Lila in accessories out of the corner of his eye.

Marinette zipped her bag up then turned to look him in the eye. “I’m not asking you to trust her. I’m asking you to believe in me.”

Her bright blue eyes glowed with determination, and although he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his gut, he nodded her on. Marinette was brilliant and amazing—Adrien knew that quite well. She had a bright future ahead of her so long as nothing got in her way, and one thing was certain: if Lila even tried, Adrien would never forgive her.

“Alright, chickadees, let’s see what you’ve got for me,” Clara said, bouncing in anticipation.

Marinette didn’t spare Lila a single glance as she paced over to Clara, but Adrien hung back to make sure she behaved. Lila seemed to all but ignore him until the last moment when she shot him a playful wink that sent his blood boiling.

“Oh, Clara, since I know Marinette is probably going to win, will you try on my outfit first?” Lila requested innocently. “Naturally, mine will pale in comparison, so I want you to give it a fair shot.”

“Lila, that’s quite the humble stance. I’d be more than happy to give yours a chance.”

Adrien instinctively bristled when Lila passed off her bag. What was she up to? His stomach churned in knots, and he stepped closer to Marinette, gleaning comfort from close proximity as if he could protect her from whatever scheme Lila was trying to pull.

When Clara emerged again, every jaw in the room dropped, and Adrien’s mind whirled with a thousand thoughts at once. That dress wasn’t part of the normal collection—it was one of a kind. Adrien had overheard his father and Nathalie talking about it a few days prior. He wasn’t entirely sure how Lila got her hands on it, but it wasn’t by accident.

“This dress is so…so…” Clara gasped, abandoning her riddles and rhymes as she stared in awe.

Lila beamed, clasping her hands behind her back. “I really wanted to impress you this round, so I asked the staff if they hand anything special in the back. I truly care about your style, Clara, and I wanted to prove that to you.”

“Your attention to detail and willingness to go the extra mile certainly make you standout, Lila. I’d love for you to be my new style consultant,” Clara said, clasping her hands together over her heart.

Adrien’s heart snapped when he turned to Marinette, her once confident demeanor now shriveled in defeat. Lila caught his gaze, tilting her chin up with a smirk. I win. She seemed to gloat, and Adrien’s hands clenched into fists.

“Clara, I know this dress is beautiful, and I’m not entirely sure how Lila found it,” he started, shooting her a quick glare. “But designing is Marinette’s true passion, and in my professional opinion, I think she would make an amazing personal stylist.”

“It’s fine.” The voice was Marinette’s, and she turned to Lila with a small smile. “I’m really happy for you, and I know you’ll do an amazing job.”

She held her head high and threw on a smile despite the anger and humiliation she must be feeling. They were committed to being kind to Lila in front of everyone, but Adrien didn’t care about that now. Lila had taken something from someone who deserved it, and more importantly, she’d done it to someone Adrien cared about. If Lila was going to ignore his warnings, then he’d have to repeat them a little louder.

“Clara, why don’t you try on Marinette’s pick just for fun. She worked really hard picking it out,” Adrien suggested.

“While my search has come to an end, I’d be more than happy to wear something picked by a friend,” Clara said, brushing Marinette’s nose with her finger before climbing back into the changing booth.

Adrien marched over to Gorilla, yanking his collar down to whisper in his ear. Lila was going to learn the price of hurting people precious to him. He didn’t care if it wasn’t nice. Lila wasn’t a nice person, so just this once, he wasn’t going to be either.

With everyone focused on Clara, no one noticed when Gorilla clamped a hand over Lila’s mouth and carried her to the back. A single employee followed, opening the door to the private bathroom as Gorilla tossed her in.

“What do you think you’re-” Lila’s voice trailed off when Adrien approached, hands shoved in his pockets. “Is this the part where you try and intimidate me? It’s not going to work. I know your little niceness scheme is all an act, and I’m about to leave you both in the dust.”

“Maybe,” Adrien said, leaning against the doorframe with a shrug. “But you seem to have forgotten where you are. Did you really think you had the advantage in a shop named Agreste? In case you didn’t realize, everyone here works for me.”

“You’re too late. I’ve already won,” Lila shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Clara picked me, and Marinette will never make it as a designer.”

“Marinette is going to be just fine. I’ll see to that,” he said. “Clara respects my opinion, so she’ll listen to me.”

“And why would you convince her to pick Marinette over me? Doesn’t that contradict your whole plan to nice me into compliance?” Lila asked with a smirk. “As soon as we go back out there, Clara will still have picked me, so this whole conversation is pointless.”

“Who said you’ll be going back out there?” Adrien quirked a brow. He stepped away from the door, and an employee stepped in to lock it from the outside.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Lila beat against it, furiously tugging the handle.

“It’s such a shame you’re so busy, Lila. Clara will be disappointed to hear that you’re too busy volunteering to clean public restrooms to devote time to being her personal stylist. I’ll be sure to send Marinette your best,” he called from the other side. “Don’t worry. Someone will let you out after we leave.”

“Adrien! Let me out!” Lila screeched, but he was already walking away.

Clara was admiring Marinette’s outfit in the mirror when he returned to the dressing area, and he draped an arm over Clara’s shoulders. “Marinette did an amazing job, don’t you think, Clara?” He asked, shooting her a wink.

“It’s true that Marinette has good taste. Not picking her would be a waste…” Clara hummed, tapping her chin. “But Lila’s pick is still on my mind. A dress like that deserves to shine.”

Marinette’s shoulders slumped, and Adrien pursed his lips. “I know you picked Lila, but I think you should reconsider.”

“Where is Lila anyway?” Marinette glanced around, and Adrien bit back a smirk.

“Oh, uh, you see, Clara, Lila has a very busy schedule. Her parents are ambassadors, so she is always traveling. She pulled me aside while you were changing and expressed worry over being able to devote the time to being your stylist,” Adrien explained smoothly. “She was absolutely thrilled that you wanted her for the opportunity, but she just has so much on her plate right now.”

“I see. Well, that’s a real pity,” Clara said, and Marinette eyed him curiously as Alya burst into the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” she panted, doubling over to catch her breath.

Adrien stepped down to retrieve the pink sketchbook tucked under her arm. “Designing is Marinette’s true passion, and while she is good at pairing other people’s designs, creating her own is where Marinette really shines.” He offered Clara the sketchbook and nudged Marinette forward. “I know you had your heart set, but Marinette is incredible if you just give her a chance.”

“Wow, Marinette, your skills are certainly plain to see,” Clara said, admiring her sketches. “So, what do you say? Will you design clothes for me?”

“I- Yes! I would absolutely love to! Thank you, Clara,” Marinette gaped, and Clara took her hands.

“The pleasure is all mine. Your designs are so divine! This deal is all set. I’m so happy that it’s you, Marinette,” Clara said, giving her hands a squeeze.

“What’s happening?” Alya asked, quirking a brow, and Adrien smiled.

“Marinette just became Clara Nightingale’s personal stylist.”