#{ all children except one grow up; peter }

[dreamofmourning]

the fact that what taylor swift’s speaker wonders about the gold rush figure in the years of their absence is getting more complex is so devastating. like given my appropriation of her song title to describe the defining phenomenon of my life, the change from wanting to know “did you stay beautiful?” to “are you still a mind reader?” has killed me

[magiicxkiingdcm]

peter pan tag drop

── ★ || peter pan || all children except one grow up || visage

[nerdygaymormon]

So I went to my Bishop with my concerns about the new policies (figuring, hey, if I lose Bishop roullette and get my temple recommend taken away for criticizing the Church, it might as well be worth it), and he showed me a really interesting verse. In D&C 74, it's talking about the early Church being conflicted about children of mixed member/non-member (aka Christian and Jewish, basically) marriages, and how they were considered unclean by the Jews since they were no longer circumcised. Anyway, long story short, the Lord reveals the following:

"Wherefore, for this cause the apostle wrote unto the church, giving unto them a commandment, not of the Lord, but of himself, that a believer should not be united to an unbeliever; except the law of Moses should be done away among them"

The key to this verse is that Peter gave a commandment that was not of the Lord. We tend to attribute a lot of infallibility to our leaders in the Church, but this verse plainly says that here was the head of the Church, a prophet of God, giving a commandment of himself in order to solve what he saw as a problem for the Church.

I see this as a direct rebuke of the doctrine of prophetic infallibility, and a reassurance that the Lord lets his prophets have agency, for better or for worse. As my Bishop said, "The Lord allows agency at all levels of the Church." We also chatted about the Plan of Salvation, and how there's a plan for everyone, even if the Church doesn't acknowledge one currently. It was an incredible talk with an ecclesiastical leader, and it showed me that there is hope that the Church can and will change over time, especially as we strive to live the Two Great Commandments of God.

You've been a huge help to my testimony when it's been weak, and I hope this helps you as much as it helped me. Much love from Colorado!

Thank you for that kind note. Also, I recognize the courage it took for you to speak with your bishop.

Your bishop gave great insight, that here we have being taught in our scriptures that sometimes apostles teach their own opinions as commandments when they are actually in opposition to the Lord.

I think it's insightful to see that the Lord's way was more liberal and inclusive than the apostle thought, which reminds me of Joseph Smith's teaching that "Our Heavenly Father is more liberal in his views, and boundless in his mercies and blessings, than we are ready to believe or receive."

The LDS Church teaches that prophets and apostles are capable of error, despite being called of God and receiving revelation, which makes sense because these are imperfect men so it seems obvious they may make mistakes. If it weren't this way it would be unique in the history of the world.

However, in practice Latter-day Saints often teach that the prophet of the church literally cannot lead church members astray or teach false doctrine, as a way of emphasizing the importance of following the prophet.

I think holding up our apostles and prophets as infallible is unfair to them as it puts them in an impossible situation, it doesn't allow them to grow, it makes them less likely to correct previous errors and therefore prolongs the time we live under the incorrect teachings & policies, and it may make them cautious to act.

I agree with your bishop that there's a plan for everyone, even if the Church doesn't acknowledge this. I have said something similar, that I believe I'm included in God's plan even if I'm not in the church's version of that plan.

I think your bishop gave some wise insight and underlines my belief that the things which are right about the church can fix the things which are wrong.

Also, I think it's useful to think of the two great commandments and use that as a filter to determine if these teachings from our leaders are more or less likely to be the Lord's will .

Thanks so much for sharing!💖

[kitherondale]

But I was not to see Peter Pan again. Now I tell his story to my children. And they will tell it to their children. And so it will go on. For all children grow up... Except one.

PETER PAN | 2003 dir. P. J. Hogan

[angelstate]

Why do you hide?

Peter parker x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending! :)

Warnings: explicit trauma, low self-esteem, panic attack.

summary: being introverted usually made you end up alone in most things, people nowadays didn't put effort into relationships to actually stick around and get to know who you are. Everyone except Peter parker.

words: 2.9k!

this is my first ever post here so i'm sorry if is not really good. i hope you enjoy it!

it was normal by now, people ignoring your existence in the hallways, bumping into you and never stopping to say sorry. Still, it couldn't be described as bullying, nobody directly picked on you, called you names or made awful comments about how you looked. they just made no effort in pretending they weren't annoyed by your existence in the busy hallways.

even though you were an introverted, not even once in your life you acted as hostile as all the other kids were. what kind of people had been raising them that saying sorry was a punishment and not a common manner? It was ridiculous at some points.

For example, why wouldn't Jessica Williams say sorry when she accidentally hit you with her backpack the last Monday? you could never forgive yourself if you were the one to hit somebody on accident and didn't acknowledge the incident and apologies.

for children it's ok if they are embarrassed to say sorry or admit their mistakes since they are still learning manners but for a 16 year old girl to not be able to say sorry was worrying.

of course not all people in highschool were this dense and unfriendly but the once that were actually nice already had a lot of friends and it felt disrespectful to just go in the friend circle and demand to be accepted and befriended. it even felt selfish to want friends at all, even fake ones.

you parents always reminded you that most people present themselves with a fake persona so you should never trust them until they really star behaving in a realistic way and if people around you didn't felt inclined to acknowledge your existence that screamed a lot of who you are as a person.

and thanks to your situation at school it felt real your parents words. nobody was interested in the slightest about who you are so there was no point in trying to be friends with anybody.

then, Peter Parker came around and all the progress you had done into accepting that nobody wanted you around went to waste in a matter or days.

finally, after manifesting to the universe for someone to enter in your life and be able to understand your pain and why you were the way you are, peter showed up. with his super intelligence, dorky star wars t-shirts, pretty face, and awkward but charming personalty to crumble everything you knew about people because he was so nice.

actually, not just nice. he was warm like a ray of sunshine in spring, so calming and cozy that you feel like melting everytime he talks, every word he says just feels like one good secret that only the both of us knows or a promise that will last for eternity, there is no in between when it comes to peter parker.

everything about him was perfect but....you weren't.

you didn't have super intelligence, didn't like you apparrence even though you always made the effort to look good, and definitely weren't charming like him.

you are soft-spoken, introverted, shy and more simple in the way you expressed yourself.

you have to many layers, a thousand walls that try to protect the real you from getting hurt again by fake people who just wanted the benefits of being your friend, and it's ok. you need that safety but at the same time you only end up further isolating yourself and losing opportunities to grow because you prefer the comfort of being alone over the possibility of being a better version of yourself in a community.

_____________________

it had become a routine, stand in front of your locker and looking for what you needed for the next class and peter parker appearing next to you, ready to try and engage in some sort of conversation that you were always unprepared for.

"you know the movie Titanic?" he asked.

" yeah, i like that movie"

"i was reading the other day that almost all the love story is made up" he tilted his head to get a better look at your face.

you frowned.

"oh, that's...sad. i always thought it was a real love story of one of the survivors of the Titanic" you sighed.

"me too! whoever wrote that story is a genius." he laughed a little and took the books you pulled out of your locker from your hands

you closed the locker softly and turned your body to face peter completely, taking your books from him and smiling.

"it's a pretty good love story but i don't think is my favorite" you admitted.

Titanic is a good movie and the love story is great but not the type you prefer. 'Me Before You' that is the type of love story that absolutely captures your heart. it didn't have the happy ending you prayed for the entire movie and absolutely crushed your heart that Sam didn't changed his mind but it also added a cruel human aspect that made your heart feel warm.

"Titanic is great!" Peter argued

"i agree but there are better movies out there" you argued back

"like which one?" He questioned

"Me before You is great" you responded

"i haven't watched it" peter frowned and crossed his arms.

"you should, it's amazing." you smiled once again and began walking towards your next class, peter followed you immediately since it was one of the classes you shared. Algebra.

"we could watch it together, i mean if you want to watch it with me, you don't have to i just wanted to know if you'd like to watch it with me" he stuttered and panicked slightly.

"i would love to, we could watch it tomorrow"

"yeah, that would be great" peter answered quickly.

you already knew where peter lived, this was going to be good, right?

_____________________

yeah....it was too god to be true.

those were the words that kept repeating in your mind and were the same words your mom said when she reacted to the news of you finally beginning to be friends with someone that was actually a good person.

"it's too good to be true, kid" your mother spoke without even looking at you, too busy preparing herself something to eat. the smell of alcohol still lingering in her skin and hair. you doubt a shower wold be able to get rid of it, it was her signature smell after all, even if she didn't want to admit it.

"peter is my friend, mom." you explained with desperation in your voice, wanting your mother feel happy for you once in her life. it was so hard to prove her that your social life wasn't all tragic but also good and promising thanks to peter.

"you sure? I don't want to come to me crying if he turns out to be like Sarah"

...

you froze in your spot, your mom was aware of how much you have avoided the topic of Sarah. How she created a new world of pain just for you to suffer when she pretend to be your friend because how much of a people pleaser you are. that's why she didn't felt the need to question your motives when you beg to go to a different high school.

nobody in your family knew the things Sarah manipulated you into doing, of course your mom was aware Sarah was a trouble maker, that was what she was so known for, what she didn't know is the trouble she forced on you.

smoking was bad, drinking too but that didn't compare to all the 'rituals' and 'tests' she made you do to prove loyalty to her. To prove that if she ever got caught doing something bad you would have her back and lie her wait out of the situation.

it would be an understatement to say that you were naive, the second your mother knew about the things sarah did to you she didn't hesitate to call you all names existing for stupid and that memory never went away.

finally after almost 2 minutes of silence you spoke again, voice trembling and out of breath.

"he isn't like Sarah, he is like me"

"that's worse."

that's worse? i am worse?

"how is that worse? I'm a good kid"

you mom laughed hard, and for the first time looked at you. it was evident in her eyes how she wasn't taking you seriously in the slightest, it was so clear she didn't gave a fuck about this that it was painful to watch her enjoy your pain so much. she was so joyed about mocking you and the one optimistic thought you had in months that she couldn't contain her excitement in shutting it down immediately

"a good kid? if anything your a pain in my ass. If that kid is as stupid as you are then god helps his family because i certainly need gods help when dealing with your dumbass"

how cruel of her to speak like that about you, the kid how always kept quiet, that did everything she was asked for even if it wasn't convenient for you to do so. the one that made sure she passed out in her bed instead of the floor every time she drank too much.

she was mean and bitter about your existence when she should be joyed about your upbringing. the worst mother.

"you don't have to be so mean" you whimpered, the knot that began to form in your throat made it hard to breath and the tears that were leaving your eyes so softly began to feel overwhelming, just like your sweater and pants. It felt like you were overflowing with so much emotions of distress that your body was trying to escape from itself.

without waiting for her answer you went to your room and locked the door, everything felt so suffocating. Your clothes all of a sudden felt tight and uncomfortable, but your hands began shaking too much to be able to take any piece of clothing off and the open window didn't seem to let enter any air inside the room.

This was a nightmare in real life.

The panic attack was ripping you apart and all you could do was to sit in the hard wood floor and sob uncontrollably and feel the way your heart seem to be going even faster every passing second.

but someone saw you and got worried about you.

_____________________

a few days later

how could you face him? how even dare you face him after everything that happened with your mom? Obviously peter didn't know what happened but the incident was in your mind and it had infested every corner of it. it was impossible to ignore the fresh memory or get out of the state of shame you were on.

After laying awake all this nights you came to the 'realization' that whatever you had going on with Peter wouldn't work.

He isn't like you and you made a mistake saying he was to your mom. He is so much more, so much better that saying that you were like him felt like one of the worsts sins you ever committed.

Once again, how dare you come close to a good person just because you were lonely? you didn't want to go close ever again or face him in any kind of way, not even with pictures.

so you did what any coward would do, you began hiding.

at first it was easy, just keep every book you need in your backpack so you never need to go to your locker. But then your back started to hurt, a lot.

So you created another plan, hide in the bathroom and wait till its almost time for your classes run to your locker and arrive late to class, at least the ones you didn't have with Peter.

In those you had to get more creative, you started to use a big scarf that covered almost half of your face and using big hoodies to hide the rest of your face, since it was winter the outfit was according and almost all the other girls were doing the same things.

it didn't hide you completely but that was the best you could do to at least hide a little bit. it felt pathetic most of the time but the shame kept you from stopping.

peter wasn't an idiot though. he noticed, first when you didn't showed up at his house to watch the movie and later on that night when he watched you have a panic attack in your room when we went to check up on you as Spiderman.

he knew something must have happened and was planning on speaking with you about it the next day but you didn't went to school for days and when you finally appeared you didn't give any opportunity for peter to talk to you

it was like you had turned into a ghost, peter rarely saw you in the hallways and you always seem to arrive to your shared classes with everybody else to hide your silhouette from him.

but one day you didn't hide good enough...

_____________________

you were in the library almost nobody came here in lunch so it was the perfect hiding place, you were reading one of the harry potter books that the librarian had in her desk and kindly let you borrow.

being a fan of the books you directly began to read in one after sitting in one of the tables that were hide by bookshelf's it was so peaceful, too peaceful to be exact and you didn't realize until it was too late.

until peter parker was already standing in front of you, at the other side of the table looking at you with mixed emotions and a blank expression.

"here have you been?" he questioned you the moment you looked at him. his tone was harsh but also full of pain

"here." you answered softly, it was barely a whisper but peter heard you loud and clear.

"i don't mean today, i'm talking about this week. where have you been?" he questioned you again this time in a softer tone.

"at school, i've been busy with stuff" you broke eye contact and looked at the table in shame.

"but you haven't gone to you locker at any point"

"i have"

"when."

"after the bell rings" you admitted.

"why? i mean you'd end up being late to class if you do that"

"i know"

"what happened? did i made you mad or something? if i did i'm sorry i swear it wan't my intention and i'd like to make up for it." he spoke i desperation, the same way you did to your mother and that made your heart clench in pain.

"you didn't do anything wrong, peter" you sighed and covered you face with your hands in stress

"then why do you hide?

shame. you wanted to scream but something inside of you just wouldn't let you speak, it was everything too embarrassing, the fight with your mom, your obvious attempts into avoiding peter, getting caught by him and being confronted about it.

taking a deep breath, you uncovered your face and looked at peter with your best 'sorry' face and just explained your thoughts to him the best you could.

"i just...i don't think you and me are compatible. you're a genius and a just amazing in general and i'm well me. your out of my league in so many way that i can't understand why do you even talk to me half of the time. i don't know even half the things you do and even when i do know some of them, you have much more knowledge about it so you have no logical reason to be close with some one so stupid like me"

"that not true"

" it is, peter. and it's not even abut you being intelligent. it's about me not being it; not being any good to you or anyone in general. i am dumb, stupid, idiotic and foolish. i am empty. not even my interest are interesting enough and the worst thing is that can't never find it in me to just try and be more likeable "

"you are likeable, i like you. that's why i'm always talking to you and around you every chance i have"

you looked at him wide eyed and watch as he processed what he said. his expression filled with panic and before he could even explain himself you were already speaking

"do you mean it?"

"what..well i mean, you know i...uhm i guess what i'm trying to say is that....yeah i mean it but you don't have to feel the same i mean i totally get why you would not want to be with me is just... let's pretend this never happened"

"i like you too" you spoke softly and felt your face blush profusely. this felt like a dream, peter parker could not be in love with you. is too good to be true. everything with him felt too good to be true.

"you do?" peter said with a hopeful tone, his eyes are shinning with adoration and relief from not being rejected by the girl he loved so deeply

"i do"

he basically rushed to your side, picked you up and kissed you with passion and love that it took everything in you to separate yourself when you ran out of breath.

peter parker loved you, there was no point in hide yourself anymore. and if he was too good to be true then it was meant to mae you just as great being by his side.

"i love you" you both whispered at the same time.

[k-marzolf]

Atom to Atom.

*awkward!Reader, nerdy jokes, alcohol consumption, fluff & angst, mentions of Billy’s abandonment, touch starved!Reader, fem!reader*

Tags; @idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

Summary: You attempt to pick Billy up at a bar.

&&&&&

You were out of place in New York and at a bar of all places. That’s where you met him. You remember being dazzled by his smile and beautiful dark eyes.

You were just a brilliant farm girl in the big city.

You’d marched straight over to him, trying to look confident like the ladies that were eyeing him. He looked over, “Hey, pretty girl.”

“Do you know why you can’t trust Atoms?” You asked, biting your lip.

God, you were such a dork. He was gonna be turned off.

He’d raised an eyebrow, “No.”

“They make up everything.” You’d snorted, trying to contain your laughter, but it spilled over.

His dark chuckle was like velvet sliding down your spine; “You’re so cute,” he said, smiling. “Billy.”

You gave him your name, mesmerized by him. “Did my pick up line work?” You asked, hopefully.

He laughed richly; “Oh, I’m smitten.” He teased you.

You grinned, maybe this flirting thing wasn’t as hard as you thought. “Can I take you home?”

Billy stood up, grabbing his jacket, “Sure, sweetness.”

Your smile lit up your entire face.

x

Your apartment was warm, filled with plants and books, and little knick knacks. “What kind of tea do you like, Billy?” You asked, rummaging around in your cupboard.

“Surprise me, sweetness.” He said, eyeing the daisies on your table, before turning back to the bookshelf. You had Edgar Allan Poe, Jane Austen, Tolkien, Kafka, and then…a children’s book, Peter Rabbit.

It only sweetened Billy’s view of you. He straightened up as you approached him, your cheeks warm, giving him his tea. “Chamomile tea.” You said, looking where his gaze was, as he took the teacup.

At your collection of Children’s books.

“Never got to be a girl, always alone on my grandfather’s farm, milking cows and chasing chickens,” you said softly, “so when I moved here I bought all the children’s books I could. I know it’s silly.” You mumbled, sitting down.

Billy hummed, “I get it. I had to grow up fast too in the group home. My mom safe havened me in Albany at a fire station.” He said, circling the rim of the teacup with his fingers, surprised to have divulged something so personal to a stranger.

But you made him feel safe with your disarming and gentle personality. Not many people made Billy feel comfortable right away.

“We could read them together, if you wanted.” You offered, sipping your tea, showing him no pity, he was relieved.

Billy smiled, feeling warmth flood his insides. “I’d like that.” He said, voice deep, warm.

You looked like a child at Christmas. “Really?” You asked excitedly.

“Really.” He said, sipping his own tea. Billy was never one for tea, but this was good.

“I don’t know anyone here, except those I work with at the bookstore.” You said in a rush, knee bouncing, “I’m always alone otherwise, but sometimes it’s nice to be alone with someone.”

Billy hummed, reaching forward touching your knee, “We can be alone together.” He kissed your forehead, beard tickling your skin.

You finished your tea, cheeks hot. You’d never had anyone show you affection, but it made you giddy. It felt good to have made a new friend.

[annabtg]

Maybe my standard for bullying is high because I’ve been bullied to a point where my bones were broken had to eat lunch in the restroom to avoid it being thrown out or spit on. I don’t find Snape a victim I think him and his friends got as good as they gave. We didn’t see any of the marauders pov about what happened with Snape, what we did see is Sirius and Remus regret what they did, but Snape never regretted any of it which has tricked people into believing he was a victim and not the perpetrator. What Snape could have done is become a good person and help others who were being bullied, but instead he chose to bully children and make them loath going to his class. If there’s anyone who grew up and learned from their mistakes it was the marauders minus Peter. As a victim of bullying I put everything into studying and I’m way more successful in my career compared to my bullies, and I volunteer to help kids who are going through similar situations. A couple of years ago one of the kids who I was helping turned out to be one of my bullies child, and I didn’t say anything or throw it in their face because I could see the regret in their eyes when they looked at their child. Snape could have done better, but he chose not to because he was a entitled narcissist who needed to grow the fuck up.

(I tried to reply to this last night but was too sleepy.)

Anon!! First of all, I'm so sorry about your experience with bullying 😔 this sounds extremely serious and I hate that you had to go through it!!

I don't disagree with you at all re: Snape. People like to say that "the Marauders started it", but the way I read their first meeting, I think Snape is the one who first starts to escalate. You see how James starts out with the Slytherin comments, and Sirius pipes up, but without taking it personally - they have a good-natured back and forth. It's Snape whose comment carries true malice when Gryffindor is mentioned - "if you'd rather be brawny than brainy". James is an entitled little shit who uses jeering and teasing as conversation starters, but unlike Sirius, who is comfortable with this being a - legit? Definitely common - communication style between boys, Snape is used to the slightest provocation leading to malicious responses and violence, because that's what he's seen in his home. The difference is that James and Sirius are not going to take that lying down.

I think Snape would have become a power-hungry, violent-prone Death Eater regardless of the Marauders' presence or behaviour towards him. His character had developed like that from early on, as we see from his behaviour towards Petunia. If James and Sirius had not engaged him, nothing would have changed in his story - he was aware of his classmates' behaviour towards people like Mary and thought it was "just a laugh". And we know that he didn't use the other Slytherins as his defence against the Marauders, because it's never shown or mentioned by anyone - so he wasn't being a Peter and trying to cater to them. He was his own person and chose to align with them.

Snape lived in domestic abuse and picked up the ways of the abuser, and while he regretted his role in Lily's death, he never learned anything about his behaviour apart from don't be a Death Eater. Which is why his mean and violent behaviour carries over to his teaching - except, of course, he's in a position of power over his students, unlike with the Marauders who were his equals and gave him ground to escalate.

If we view it through a more "modern" lens, Snape needed therapy. But he wasn't going to get it in Wizarding Britain, so he had to make do with what he had, and he didn't have the mental faculties to get over himself. It's "not his fault", but it's also not the Marauders' fault.

Slight tangent but as I was writing this, it came to me that Harry's reaction towards Snape's book parallels Lily's towards Snape. At first - such a smart and talented boy, I like him! Then - he's a little mischievous, but it's all in good fun. And eventually - actually he's mean and has a really dark streak and I want nothing to do with that.

[lightwing-s]

the batboys' favorite male marvel heroes

Our golden boy, Dick, is a massive Spiderman fan. He’s not embarrassed in the least to admit it, and he’s also not worried people will think of him as just liking something popular. He has pretty good reasons to like Peter Parker and he’ll defend it to hell and back. He’s young, fun, and lighthearted. Heroic and smart and handsome and sweet and Dick can go on for hours and hours on that topic. At a young age, he sympathized with Peter for a number of reasons: they were both orphans, taken in by someone after this loss; even after all that pain they still grew up to be happy and joyful people to be around; both are very smart. As he grew into his super hero persona, they started sharing a whole lot more, like their flexible fighting style, the way they both deal with villains. And you’d often tell him they share the same bubbly personality. Also, Bruce used to spoil him rotten with spidey gifts. Comics, action figures, school supplies, spiderman shampoo and conditioner, towels… You name it, Dick has had it at home. Truly a spidey fanboy through and through. He also has a costume at home waiting for the day he can go on patrol wearing it.

Let's be honest here, we all know Jason would live for the anti-hero trope. Growing up, he’d always been drawn to more heroic types of antiheroes, like Wolverine for example, who’s hell bent on fulfilling his duty but does not live by the hero standards as some others do.  But after a certain incident with a crowbar and a clown, he saw refuge in the spirit of vengeance himself, the Ghost Rider. C'mon, a motorcycling maniac, whose body is completely covered in fire and who fights for justice no matter what? *side eyes a certain somebody* there's no way it isn't up to his alley. He’s in the comic store right after patrol, in the early mornings, to buy whatever issue was released next and reads it like it’s a Jane Austen novel. He also buys older issues, and keeps them wrapped and well stored like his precious babies and he ain’t letting anyone touch them. Perhaps with one dear exception, you.  Jay is into the classics though, if he had to pick between one out of all the riders he would have to choose the very first rider, Johnny Blaze. When riding his own bike, he’d pretend to be a rider, spitting lines he remembers from the comics and using them on random robbers he stops on the streets. Don’t talk to him about the movie though, that’s off topic.

Tim Drake is not one to pick “silly” heroes like his older brothers do. Or he at least pretends to do. He’s into the smart supes, with admirable brains and capacities well beyond imaginable. But he’s also a bit of a contrarian, so he won’t go for easy picks like Dick Iron Man. So when he sees a powerful AI turn into a nearly unstoppable android he instantly becomes a fan. Even before living with Bruce and becoming Robin, he would ask his parents to get him the new Avengers issue with Vision in it. However, unlike his brothers he’s very chill about it, he doesn’t feel like he needs to explain why his favorite is the best, or why they're a token of justice or a mad warrior. He knows Vision is good and that no one can fight him about it. He also wishes he could stay awake without the need for rest like he does, but he’d definitely miss the coffee.

Don’t really let anyone know it, but Damian’s favorite hero is his dad. But Batman is a real, flesh and bone man, so it won’t count here. He struggled to have a favorite hero, reading comics is “for children” and he’s too mature for that. He’s an adult. But when he caught a glimpse of Dick sleeping watching the new Moon Knight tv show, this boy got hooked. Not only is he a cool,  merciless fighter, he is also intelligent and has a cultural impact on him like no other. Marc’s internal conflict with all of his personalities feels like a reflection of Damian’s own troubles with his families’ contrasting ideals: is he supposed to be a deadly weapon just like his grandfather would want, much like Jake Lockely, or is he a nicer warrior-esque hero like Marc and his father? Anyway, that cape, Dami loves the hooded cape *see that, bats? much cooler!*

[llamasaysrandomstuff]

intermezzo

circling the lives of two brothers who have just lost their father, intermezzo spoke to my heart.

(just to start, the lack of quotations doesnt bother me at all. in fact, when i read my first rooney book, normal people, the lack of them did not even phase me. it was only after seeing multiple people being offended on the internet i realised that it was such a big controversy.)

the joycean writing style appealed to me and the stream of conscious thoughts made it feel like i was reading the characters journal.

when i started the book i was certain that i would relate to ivan, the younger brother, the chess prodigy. mostly because of his personality (not brilliance). shy, reserved, and an awkward conversationalist. i saw myself reflected in the way ivan carried himself. a lil too familiar with being afraid to exist in the moment and claiming space for yourself. struggling with his falling rank in chess and wanting to succeed, ivan soon finds peace and love with a women twice his age. a person who understands him better than most.

you have all these dreams that you're going to keep getting better and better. and then in reality you just start getting worse, and you don't even understand why.

but as the story progressed, i saw peters perspective more clearly. as the elder sibling he felt compelled to check up on ivan. to talk to him after the death of their father. despite struggling with his own issues regarding mental health and love life, peter still makes the effort to give space in his life to his family. an unreciprocated action.

peters seemingly posh life is disturbed by his ongoing indecisiveness. actually, that may not be the right term, he wasn't entirely indecisive. he knew he was in love with both the women in his life. sylvia, his college sweetheart, and naomi, the twentysomething college student. starting with a sexual connection in exchange for money and material possessions, their relationship grows to be more domestic and emotionally charged. meanwhile, peter is still in love with his ex, sylvia. they don't want him to choose. eventually, they arrive at an understanding. a poly situation thatleaves peter with residing guilt.

after i finished the book, three interactions stuck with me

peter and sylvias arguement: still best friends after their breakup, they have grown to find comfort with each other. when peter tries to make a move, they get into a fight where sylvia opens up about the changes in her life following her accident. it left her with chronic pain. they talk about how sex is not a part of her life anymore and they cannot regress to the way things were. sylvias vulnerability and peters longing lead to the crux of their current relationship, i just want you to remember me the way i was.

his life in danger of becoming tolerable for a minute, why not go out of his way to aggrieve and distress the only person who could put up with him

sylvia and ivans conversation about the hat problem: the puzzle made me think and question language and truth. there isn't much to say except that even if youre not going to read the entire book, find a copy and read this excerpt.

language doesn't fit into reality like a toy fitting into a slot. reality is actually one thing and language something else

peter and ivans fight: most sibling dynamics are chaotic and disturbed. peter and ivan showcase this when they start talking about their dad and how their relationship has evolved since they were children. ivan, who once used to idolize peter, is now resentful and feels overshadowed. peter, the elder sibling who always had to shoulder the burden of parenting everyone in his family without appreciation, is burnt out. their conversation leads to a physical altercation, common sibling behavior.

i related to peter so much because

when things get difficult, you're gone. you're out of the room. and that's alright, i don't expect anything else. maybe with dad i did, but i learnt my lesson. he didn't want me to be his son, he wanted me to be his protector. and yours. so that's what i was. all my life, i was looking out for the both of you. and neither of you ever even had the decency to say thanks

there are more nuanced and complicated themes that occur throughout the plot. grief, resent, remorse, self doubt, suicidal thoughts, alcoholism, re-sheltering a dog, polygamy, absent parents.

i would love to illustrate more on this, however i just wanted to talk about peter and his struggle with existing on a day to day basis. unable to make decisions that don't harm the people around him. wanting to be a part of the family but not knowing how to without making a mess or feeling like more is owed. wanting someone to appreciate the efforts you put in. dealing with failure and grief. wanting to be a better person. wanting to make the right choice. wanting to feel safe and loved. wanting. and failing.

this is not a book review btw, just me telling u my favorite quotes and thoughts

[greatwyrmgold]

Another "The Problem of Susan" post

As you may know:

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe was not a standalone book. There were seven books in the series, each with more Christian allegory than the last.

(Or maybe it's not allegory? Apparently C.S. Lewis has said that Aslan is literally Jesus, so maybe it's all literally just Christianity.)

The series stars the four Pevensie siblings who show up in most of the books—Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. They're absent from The Silver Chair and The Magician's Nephew, but all appear together in the other five books, with one exception.

The last book, called The Last Battle, features Peter, Edmund, and Lucy, but not Susan. Not only does Susan not appear, she's mentioned exactly once:

"Sir," said Tirian, when he had greeted all these. "If I have read the chronicles aright, there should be another. Has not your Majesty two sisters? Where is Queen Susan?" "My sister Susan," answered Peter shortly and gravely, "is no longer a friend of Narnia." "Yes," said Eustace, "and whenever you've tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says 'What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children.'" "Oh Susan!" said Jill, "she's interested in nothing now-a-days except nylons and lipstick and invitations. She always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown-up." "Grown-up, indeed," said the Lady Polly. "I wish she would grow up. She wasted all her school time wanting to be the age she is now, and she'll waste all the rest of her life trying to stay that age. Her whole idea is to race on to the silliest time of one's life as quick as she can and then stop there as long as she can." "Well, don't let's talk about that now," said Peter. "Look! Here are lovely fruit trees. Let us taste them."

(Oh yeah, the kids were kinds and queens of Narnia for a few decades when they were kids. Don't think about it too much.)

The Problem of Susan gets even worse because right at the end of the book, Aslan reveals that the Pevensies, their parents, and other Earth-humans who went to Narnia (like the Eustace and Polly mentioned above) died right before coming to Narnia this last time. And now that the Book of Revelations is done, they will live forever in "the true Narnia," which is either an allegory for Revelation's New Jerusalem or literally heaven, I'm not sure which.

Susan is still not there.

So, the first part of the Problem of Susan is that a formerly major character—one that many young fans of the series felt attached to—who gets all but dropped from the finale. This is particularly egregious, since—this is a direct quote— "Everyone you had ever heard of (if you knew the history of those countries) seemed to be there" by the end. Every character from the entire series, from Mr. Tumnus the faun to that cab driver who became the first King of Narnia, it makes sense in context.

But not Susan.

And I guess that makes sense in context, too; she's not dead. But C.S. Lewis wrote the context. It was C.S. Lewis's decision to kill off the other Pevensies, and C.S. Lewis's decision to keep Susan out of this last adventure.

Christian Apologetics, for Kids!

I've seen three common responses to The Problem of Susan from overly-protective fans of the series.

The first is, perhaps unsurprisingly, just a remix of shit fundamentalist Christians say about Heaven and Hell. Just as agnostics will burn in the fires of hell for their ambiguous faith, so Susan will be barred from "the true Narnia" for being less allegorically(?) pious than her siblings.

Speaking as an ex-Christian, I could write a whole series of posts about why that's fucked-up and wrong. But I will instead remain on topic and recommend you read basically any atheist blog from the early '10s; that eternal damnation/salvation shit is low-hanging fruit for guys who want to make fun of fundies.

Second, you have people who see Susan as materialistic, caring so much about "nylons and lipstick and invitations." First off, nothing in the text suggests she was maliciously materialistic, or greedy, or anything else that would merit getting kicked out of Narnia. Second, the text just...does not support this reading. Susan's sin isn't greed, it's growing up too fast.

Third are the people who agree with the text; Susan "always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown-up." This has textual support, and not just from the one page in The Last Battle that mentions her. The problem is, of course, that this isn't a sin worthy of punishment either.

(Zeroth: Susan spent decades as a queen of Narnia, but since because the books want us to think that that wouldn't have any real impact on the kids, we will continue not thinking about it too much.)

With that out of the way: Wanting to be older than you are is fine, wanting to be younger than you are is fine, wanting to be the age you are is great. There is nothing inherently wrong with either wanting to be treated as a grown-up or seeking the joy of youth. It can lead to bad behavior, but none of that is described in the actual text of The Last Battle.

Susan is described as misremembering the fantastical adventures the Pevensies had as children, and wanting to be a young adult for as long as possible. Who. Cares.

It seems like C.S. Lewis puts an unreasonably high premium on the innocence of childhood. (This has what I consider to be unfortunate implications when combined with his advocacy of blind faith in The Silver Chair, but that's a topic for another ramble.) This is, I feel, ridiculous. It's fine to seek the joy of youth, but to treat losing that joy as some kind of mortal sin is absurd! Treating the loss of innocence as an inevitable tragedy is one thing; treating it as something worth punishing a kid for if they stumble into it too quickly is horrific.

(And it's really hard to not think about that time Susan was a literal monarch. Well, there were four of them, so I guess she was more of a tetrarch? Whatever.)

Anyways. The fourth response is to point to things C.S. Lewis said after publishing The Last Battle. And I'm going to discuss that.

Contrite-over-Susan Lewis

Unfortunately, I can't find the actual quotes by C.S. Lewis, not in the time I'm willing to spend researching a Tumblr post about a book that was old when my parents were young. But C.S. Lewis has acknowledged the problem of Susan.

The gist of what he said is that he's not happy that Susan's story is incomplete, but writing her redemption arc would put the story into a whole different genre, and that's no good.

My first problem is, of course, the idea that Susan needed to change to be worthy of Narnia. So what if she was always the most skeptical Pevensie? So what if she wanted to grow up? So what if she likes nylons and lipstick and invitations? If the Susan we see in the other books isn't worthy of the true Narnia, that's Lewis's problem, not Susan's.

The second is that C.S. Lewis never wrote that book. Lewis would say that it's out of step with the rest of the series, that the tone would be off, but so is The Last Battle to anyone not drowning in Armageddon-lust. And it's not like character arcs are foreign to the series, either. There are plenty of examples of kids from our Earth going to Narnia and having it change their worldview or attitude. They're mostly small subplots, but elevating a Susan character arc to a booklong undercurrent would not be that much of a divergence.

And even if Lewis committed himself to only writing seven books for numerological reasons—well, first off, he probably could have cut one of the other books. A Horse and his Boy is neat, but depicting the lives of ordinary Narnians during a dramatic time probably should have taken a back seat to a character arc you think is required for her to join the finale. Anyways, he could have written the Susan character arc as a subplot in Prince Caspian or Voyage of the Dawn Treader if he tried.

But he didn't try.

Conclusion

C.S. Lewis supposedly said that Susan was his favorite character, the one he saw the most of himself in. If true, that is not reflected in The Last Battle.

Lewis set some arbitrary conditions Susan would have to meet to join her siblings at the end—at the climax of the entire series, arguably the most important event in Narnian history since the world's creation. He then chose not to write anything that would let Susan meet those conditions, left her out of the last book, and left it ambiguous as to whether she'd ever see her siblings in paradise.

I don't think this would be quite so egregious if Susan was at least mentioned more. Again, Susan is never mentioned before Tirian asks where she is, nor after Peter decides to taste some fruit. She gets three and a half paragraphs where her brother and "friends" bitch about her, and that's that. They make fun of her for growing up and liking nylons and lipstick, then they decide to eat fruit, end of chapter, end of Susan.

It's like the characters don't give a shit about Susan. They're not angry, they're not disappointed, they're not confused. They state a few things about Susan when directly asked, then move on, like these are just facts about some fictional character and not the reasons they're estranged from a sibling or longtime friend. Heck, the younger Pevensies don't even bother to speak up! They don't care!

And if the characters don't care about the formerly important character—important both to the story and, more importantly, to them—why should I think the author did?

[rubydubydoo122]

In every universe Jason Peter Todd dies young. It’s a fate sealed across the multiverse. Maybe he could hope that there’s one universe where he doesn’t. aka, Jason, Dick, and Bruce go multiverse hopping, and are not having a fun time. (Ps, when I started writing this fic I hced Jason as Latino, but I don't really believe in that hc anymore, so just a heads up if you don't like that hc)

TRIGGER WARNING -> Child Death (it's Jason)

A child was gone. A child was gone. A child was gone. A child was gone. A child was gone. A child was gone. A child was gone.

Seven children were gone. And another one was about to die. And another one and another one, with every new reality they went to, because that was the pattern. 

It wasn’t just Jason dying. It was Jason dying as a kid, unable to grow old. None of his counterparts would grow old.

None of them spoke. It was like they were frozen in time. Except he knew they weren’t frozen because his knees were trembling and he had to clench his fists to keep them steady. Before he could tell what he was doing, Jason was moving. 

He could tell who was comforting who. If he was clinging to Dick to keep himself from floating away or if Dick’s vice-like hug was to make sure he wouldn’t turn into smoke right in his arms.

Finally, it was Bruce who broke the silence, “We should find somewhere to rest. Maybe sit this universe out.”

And honestly, Dick and Jason were too worn out to realize it wasn’t a very Batman thing to say. In fact, it felt a lot like the Bruce they both knew in their childhood. The man that didn’t have Batman bleeding into the person he truly was– Bruce.

Though now that they were relatively back to their senses, he took his time to look around. The magic was strong in this universe. Specifically soul magic.

The sould didn’t feel like they were on a separate plane, like how he learned with Ducra. It felt like each and every soul had the ability to pass through the veil and take on a form in the physical world. Like if everyone had the ability to summon their own version of the All Blades.

They were in some sort of museum. Except, It didn’t feature dinosaurs or WWII artifacts. No. It seemed to feature winged skeletons, but attached to humans. Except they weren’t really attached. As far as Jason could tell, the anatomy didn’t really line up for the back of the ribs to connect with the wings. Though Jason could feel the connection between the wings and the skeleton that ran soul deep.

Bruce smoothed out Jason’s hair,  “Come on, lets go.”

As soon as they got outside, they realized what was different about this universe. There were people with wings. From the shape of a falcon to a songbird, from the wing of a dove to a vulture. He could tell that each and every set of wings was a reflection of that person’s soul. It was their soul.

He thought about Bruce. Maybe his wings would be some sort of Eagle. Strong, sharp, intelligent. Though, those are more qualities of a person, not a soul. And an Eagle didn’t really seem to fit Bruce. You can’t really describe a soul with words. It’s just an energy, a vibe. 

What would Dick’s look like? Dick, a man who was born to fly. Him having Robin wings felt a little too on the nose. He had to have giant wings that drew eyes and signaled comfort. Jason couldn’t really think of a specific wing that would portray that. Unless his wings were unique, and unlike anything anyone has seen.

He wondered what his wings would look like. Would his soul, a soul strong enough to wield the All-Blades, have giant wings that were majestic? Or was he too broken? Would his wings only manifest as a few measly feathers. 

They got to a motel, and the receptionist noticed them immediately, “Oh! Mr. Wayne! I didn’t expect anyone of your status to ever stay somewhere here.”

Bruce gave her one of his signature Brucie Wayne smiles, “It was the closest place.”

She looked from Dick to Jason and gave him a soft smile back, “Rough night out?”

“You could say that.”

She handed them a key, “The room’s on the house. After all you and your sons do for the city, it’s the least we could do.”

Bruce looked a little confused, “Are you sure? I have enough money–”

“Yes, yes, please. I insist. You and your family are the Guardian Angels of Gotham. My boss would throw a fit if he realized I made you pay. Now go! Rest! It’s the least you could do.”

“Oh.” Bruce took the key, “Thank you.”

As soon as they got to the room, Dick face planted onto the colossal bed (For the wings? But sleeping with those seemed like work). Then he rolled over and started pushing all the sheets to the middle. Like he used to do when Jason was visiting the Titans. 

Dick was the type of person who didn’t sleep with any blankets, whereas Jason bundled himself like a burrito. Jason could sleep without them– his time on the streets and in the league made that a necessity– but when given the choice, he’d take the protection and safety blankets provided. 

Of course he knew he could trust Dick to catch him when he fell, or to protect his back, but it took a while for Jason to trust Dick like that . He remembers, way back in the beginning, he used to sleep on the giant couch in Titan’s tower, which slowly turned into sleeping on the ground in Dick’s room. Then to the opposite end of the bed with a pillow wall separating them. 

There was that time, it was a couple nights before Dick left for space. Jason had went to Titan’s Tower after Gloria Stanson died and the whole situation with Fellipe Garzonas. And Dick, he just held him in his arms. Leaning his cheek on top of Jason’s curls. Not saying anything, and just holding him. He didn’t ask any questions. He just gave him comfort.

It was hard for Jason to trust people like that. Trust people enough to be vulnerable around them. Though once Jason trusted someone, nothing they did could break that trust. Sure, they could disappoint him, like Bruce and Sheila, or even in some ways Talia, but he still trusted them with his whole being. Even if he knew Dick didn’t trust him. He probably didn’t see Jason as anything more than a… coworker, or a person who took the face of a kid he maybe used to care about, Jason trusted Dick more than anyone else in the world. He was his big brother. 

Jason rolled himself up in the blankets and scooted until his forehead was slightly touching Dick’s shoulder. Dick immediately melted relaxed That couldn’t be right. Maybe he was just really tired.

Soon he could hear Dick’s breathing even out and knew he was asleep.

He thought about how Jay from the Alley, and Baby Jay would never get that big brother. How the Robin Jays barely got close enough to really know Dick as a brother before they died. Even he didn’t really have the rights to call Dick his brother. Not as much as Tim or Damian, or even Duke. Quality over quantity, and by the time Jason truly opened up he died. They all died.

Jason knew there were infinite realities. He knew there were many realities where he lived, but there had to be equally as many where he died. Maybe even more.

Maybe by coming back to life, he caused one of these many Jasons to die. Maybe that’s why they were on this multiversal adventure. The transporter device is trying to find a reality where his soul fits. Maybe it doesn’t fit anywhere anymore.  

“Can’t sleep?”

He shrugged. Jason knew Bruce would notice he wasn’t really asleep. He was Bruce, he couldn’t not notice. He was somehow simultaneously the most observant and the most obtuse person he knew. 

They sat in the silence that always felt so loud between the two of them. Sometimes, Jason felt like they were the tides and the moon. He knew Bruce was always trying to reach out to him, but in the end, the gravity of Gotham will always be greater than Jason’s. 

He heard Bruce shift in his seat, “Do you… do you remember those nights we’d stayed up all night in the library reading poems?” 

Jason nodded. Of course he remembers. Most of the poems he’d been telling all the versions of himself had been from those nights. 

He also remembered the reason they were up all night. Most of the time it was because they had run into someone he used to work for. He could never sleep after being so starkly reminded of his past. And it was near impossible to build up the guts to get in a bed those nights. 

He remembers sitting in the papasan chair in the library feeling like a bird. He remembers Bruce sitting on the far end of the couch, because even then, he knew. Of course he knew. 

He remembers them going back and forth reading poems they thought the other would like. He remembers watching Bruce’s eyelid get heavier and heavier with each blink, but he still stayed up with him. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, the poetry books they’d been skimming through were left on the coffee table with green flags marking the poems Jason had liked and orange ones marking the ones Bruce did. Though the only ones Jason ended up memorizing were the pink ones, which both of them enjoyed.

“I never told you, but I used to do that with my mother. Not staying up late, but we used to sit in the Library after I had come home from school, and we’d– we did that too.” 

Jason didn’t really know what to say to that. ‘ Was anything we did original to us?’ or ‘ I special enough to you to the point where you let me share what you once had with your mother?’.

In the end Jason didn’t say anything, because Bruce continued, “Remember the poem ‘Still I Rise’ , by Maya Angelou?”

He nodded. It used to be his favorite. He remembered finding it the first poetry night he and Bruce spent together. Jason had read it first. And almost every poetry night they had they would come back to that one. They both had it memorized.

“It used to be my mother’s favorite too.” 

Jason could never forget the way Bruce read the poem to him. The way he seemed to not just read the poem, but express it. 

He always found it interesting that Bruce, a white man, could resonate with that poem. Though now that he thought of it, Bruce always read it like he was recalling a memory. So maybe Martha Wayne, a Jewish woman, helped him understand.

“Though, after the first time you read it out loud to me, I could only think of that poem being yours.” Bruce paused like he was debating saying something, and seemed to ultimately decide against it.

Jason didn’t know what to say. He had too much to say. Too many thoughts and feelings and actions that float around in his mind but never make it past the layers upon layers of thorns he uses to hurt people. The thornes he uses to protect himself. 

He wanted to tell Bruce to stop playing with his feelings, but he also wanted Bruce to hold him like he held the boy who was long dead. He wanted Bruce to stop using old memories like a carrot on a string just out of reach. He wanted to tell him of the nights he yearned for Bruce’s voice to lull him to sleep through the pattern of the stanzas. He wants to smack Bruce upside the head and tell him that he’s no longer the boy who died and that he’s still the same person. He wanted to scream that he was here and that he hates the person he’s become. Except he wasn’t sure if he hates Bruce or himself.

He couldn’t stand being in the same room as him. He missed him even though he was two feet away. He hated him because he loved him and that love would never be enough. He just wanted to call him Dad, and not worry about Batman taking that away.

In the end all Jason could say was, “‘s our poem.”

He heard Bruce shift, “Is…is it still our poem?”

Jason nodded, Now more than ever. There were nights, he remembered, during the league, during his early Red Hood days, even now, when the only way he can fall asleep is by reciting poems. Bruce’s voice almost lucid in his head. So when Bruce started speaking he had to remind himself that Bruce was really there. Reciting the poem for him.

“You may write me down in history; With your bitter, twisted lies; You may trod me in the very dirt; But still, like dust, I'll rise; Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells; Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns; With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise.

“Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries?Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard; ’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines; Diggin’ in my own backyard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise.

“Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise; That I dance like I've got diamonds; At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history’s shame; I rise; Up from a past that’s rooted in pain; I rise; I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear; I rise; Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear; I rise; Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave; I am the dream and the hope of the slave. 

“I rise. I rise. I rise.”

Jason didn’t remember falling asleep, but he certainly remembers waking up. Because it felt like his soul was being– he couldn’t even describe it. It just felt like his soul was in trouble, but not his soul. It was like it was being ripped out of Jason’s body–

The Jason of this Universe.

He sat up, and realized he was seeing double. Nope not double, there were two Bruces and two Dicks. And an ten/eleven year old Tim, and Stephanie. 

So the stalker probably stumbled across them, and their Jay must’ve gone missing, so they came to them for help. Except their Jay couldn’t be dead because Bruce Dick and Jason were still in this universe. 

Tim, tilted his head like a bird, “Is your arm glowing a normal thing for you?”

Jason looked down. His soul marks. Except Jason didn’t feel any evil entity near him . Was… was Jay being hunted by an Untitled?

Dick, the older one, replied “No.” At the same time Bruce replied with, “Yes.” 

Jason closed his eyes. He’s never been the best at astral projecting, but hopefully trying to track his own soul would make it easier.

The museum.

He made eye contact with Steph who looked bewildered, and spooked all at the same time. So she was probably their witness, 

He stood and headed towards the door, making a motion for everyone to follow, “What’s happenin’, Blonde?” 

“They- They took Jason and it’s all my fault.”

Jason snapped his head back because usually Steph was not one to be so open while being self loathing, “Oi, cut the guilt. Knowing myself, Jay probably chose to get taken rather than you. So tell me what’s goin’ on. And I want a story, no self loathing.”

Steph stepped into pace with Jason, and took a deep breath, “I was helping this kid, she needed help, but she wasn’t trusting me enough to help her. So…so I showed her my wings.” She said it like it was a bad thing. 

He guessed it could be, showing your soul to a stranger, but people flew around with their wings on full display, as far as Jason could tell, it was fine.

“Hm, I dunno if my Bruce has told you this yet, but we’re from a different Universe. One where only birds and bats have wings. I don’t really know the Socio-political climate here. What’s… why was it wrong to show this kid your wings?”

Tim ran up to Jason’s other side, “Wings are a physical manifestation of your soul. There are certain wing types that are super rare. And because they’re so rare,  they’re made to be… a spectacle. People who have mythical creature wings, like, Dick, are you ok with me using your parents as an example?”

Dick, the younger one, gave a wistful smile.

“Mr. Grayson had these huge dragon wings, and- and Mrs. Grayson’s wings were absolutely beautiful! They were Psyche’s wings. Do you guys have the myths of Dragons and Psyche in your world– Nope, I’m getting off topic. The more… I wouldn’t say pure or good, because you can’t really describe a soul with words, but usually your wings mirror your soul, and if you have more mythological wings, the more… magic your soul has. Though, if you’re not careful about who you show your wings to, you’ll probably get trafficked if you have pretty ones. That’s what Jason told me.”

Jason nodded. Then stopped in his tracks as the realization hit like a bus, and spun around, “The receptionist called you,” he pointed at Bruce, “And you,” he pointed to Dick, “the ‘ Guardian Angels of Gotham’ . Does that mean you’re really… ”

They nodded. “I have Powers Wings and Dick has Virtues.”

They were angels . He was literally standing in front of angels . 

Jason turned around and continued walking while whispering  “In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. ” under his breath. He touched his forehead, his chest,  his left and right shoulders and then brought his hands together, “Amen.”

That also meant they didn’t have secret identities, but he was in the presence of angels.

Dick– not the angel one– cleared his throat. “So, you… also have angel wings, Steph?”

She nodded, lip wobbling, “But I didn’t notice there were other people in the alley, and like Tim said Jason said, when you have special wings you get taken and– and before I knew it, Jason was jumping down into the Alley, spreading his wings and telling me to run, and- and he got taken.”

Bruce, the literal angel, face looked conflicted between proud and worried, “He spread his wings? He doesn’t show them to anyone .”

Angel Dick made a pinched face, which meant Dick The Angel knew what wings Jay had. God, he was probably– he probably had songbird wings or something. If he had any other wings, he probably would have a mental breakdown.

They walked through the doors of the museum, as Tim tugged at Jason’s sleeve, “Why are your hands glowing?” 

The feeling of his soul being chiseled out chip by chip became almost overbearing. “Kinda… kinda like your wings, but I got swords instead.” He placed his hand to his heart, to keep it from bursting out of his chest, but it wasn’t working. “Timbo… do you also have Angel wings?”

He nodded, “I have Dominion wings. They’re not as cool as Jason’s though.”

Tim was a literal angel too. And… if these traffickers targeted people with special wings, he couldn’t let Tim and Steph wherever those traffickers were. He couldn’t let another Tim watch his brother die “Alright, I have a really important task for you and Steph.” Jason crouched down so he could be face to face with them. “Whenever I use my soul sword, it takes a lot of energy out of me, cus it’s ya know, a sword that comes from my soul. Do you guys have gatorade here? Specifically lime green.” they both nodded, “Do you also have Arizona Iced Tea, Space Rocks– not pop rocks, there’s a difference– Sour gummy worms, but they have to be the Candy Works Brand, and those strawberry hard candies that grandmas always have–”

“The ones with the gooey center?”

“Yes! Those! Along with the butterscotches they usually have on them too. I need you two to find all of those things. Then I need you to mix the drinks and the gummy worms together, but not the Space Rocks or the old lady candy. Then, I need you to put an old lady candy in your mouth and chant  ‘Acres of All, give All strength.’ Keep chanting until you’ve dissolved three candies each , ok? It has to be three strawberries, three butterscotches.” They nodded again, “And then, once you’re done with the old lady candies, you have to throw the pop rocks into the gummy worm drink, and say, ‘ soul replenisher’ until all the bubbles from the Space Rocks fizzle out. Make sure to take your time. If you rush it, my soul will become very weak.”

Steph and Tim nodded solemnly, “We won’t let you down, Giant Jason.” and they ran off to go find the ingredients.

Jason stood up and walked deeper into the museum, where his astral projection went, but all it led him to was the center of the museum. He could feel his own soul. He could feel the evil presence nearby. They were close enough to where he could summon the All Blades, but he kept them away. Not yet. There had to be a hidden door somewhere. 

He paused in the middle of the room. There were wings with feathers preserved in resin. 

Seraphim Wings. 

All three sets of wings were open wide, they weren’t curled in to veil the angel like they were supposed to. They were spread open. They looked wrong . Then he saw the plaque.

The wings of Thomas Wayne. The first Seraphim in centuries. Seraphim feathers hold special healing qualities that are even rumored to be able to heal fatal wounds. These feathers lose their healing ability after the Seraphim dies. 

Jason felt his blood run cold. This… this was worse than the case that held the suit he died in. This was a dead soul on display– no. This was a trapped soul. Never to be set free. Never to be at rest. 

Dick frowned, confusion slowly making way for horror, “But, Tim said that… your wings are your souls.”

Jason grabbed his Bruce by the elbow before he could fall to the ground.

“Bruce–” He wasn’t sure which Dick said it to which Bruce, but Angel Bruce cut him off.

“I had no say in it. I can never forgive Alfred for it, but this Gotham, this world , it isn’t just magic. It’s also cursed and corrupt. It was the only way he could keep me from living a life in a fighting pit or a cage.”

Angel Dick’s eyebrows scrunched up in worry, “ Br –”

“What about…” Bruce peeled his eyes away from the taxidermy of his father, “What about Mom?” 

Angel Bruce looked away.

Jason could hear his Bruce’s jaw click shut, “You’re a grown man now, capable of protecting yourself. Why won’t you–”

“Don’t you think I tried ?! They came after Dick! I’m trying my best here! And I know my parents would rather have their grandkids safe than their memories honored. I have to pick and choose my battles. It’s not just about doing the right thing, it’s a war against evil . And my parents not being put to rest is a small loss compared to what’s necessary for my kids, and maybe even grandkids, to live in a safer Gotham.” Angel Bruce was looking at Bruce firmly. Eyes narrowed in that way that left no room for argument.

This Bruce was a Protector's Angel. This Bruce fought true evil. And Jason could feel all the Untitled-Like beings crawling around nearby. There was no hoping for redemption when it came to them. This Bruce killed, but it was nessasary. These evil beings would stop at nothing to get what they want.

Jason shifted and walked over to a patch where the stone floor looked off. He lodged his foot into an odd looking cobblestone, and suddenly the ground under him disappeared.

No stairs. Just free falling. Which was good for people with wings, but Jason didn’t really have those. 

He summoned one of his All Blades and stuck it into the wall to stop his fall. 

Angel Dick came diving down, before catching sight of Jason hanging and stopped. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Jason almost slipped off his sword, because, holy mother of Christ, Angel Dick had his Angel wings out.

Jason regained his grip, and positioned himself so he was sitting on the blade like a seat. 

There was the sound of grapples and suddenly Bruce and Dick were hanging next to him. Followed by Angel Bruce floating next to Angel Dick.

Bruce frowned at him, “Didn’t you say the Blades burned up your soul?”

“Only when I stab truly evil things.” He gestured downwards.

Angel Bruce’s expression darkened, “I’m going to head down, and do some recon, you four, wait for me to come back.” And he dove down.

Dick anchored his foot into his grapple, so he was no longer hanging by his arms, and gave a questioning glance to Jason, “Magical soul swords, huh?”

Jason, instead of answering to Dick’s passive aggressive question, shifted on his makeshift seat and rested his head in his hands. He felt like his intestines were entangling within themselves forming a tapestry that read the words, ‘Something was wrong. ’ Something was really really wrong. And he could feel how close Jay was. It was like if he reached his hand through the wall he would be able to grab his hand. Except, Jason couldn’t do that.

Angel Bruce came back up, “I couldn’t see Jason, but there are cages filled with children lining the perimeter of the substructure. There seems to be bidding going on. ART Dick and Bruce, you two sneak around and open the cages while Dick and I will guide them to safety, there are three more exits to the North, East, and West. We are currently in the South exit. Jason…just, try to find my son.”

Jason nodded. He just didn’t know if it’d be in time. With each second he felt like more and more of his soul was being plucked away until he was left raw and pink.

Bruce gave him a nod before grappling the rest of the way down. Dick squeezed Jason’s ankle and followed Bruce’s lead. 

Which left him with the Angels. 

Angel Bruce looked at Jason, “Thank you, for making sure Tim and Stephanie were safe. I know you don’t actually need the gatorade-tea-candy potion.” 

Jason looked at the knee of his pants. They had rust color stains. Blood. Of different Jasons. That were on him because he was too late to save himself. “I just didn’t want them seeing anything they shouldn’t”

Angel Dick floated closer to Jason and cupped his face, “I don’t know what you’ve been through these past couple days, or months, or maybe even years, but just know that you are the most resilient person I’ve ever known. And that I care about you so much.” 

Something about that tightened the knots in his stomach. “I’m not the kid you want to say that to.” 

Angel Dick smiled, and shook his head, “It’s something I know holds true throughout each and every Universe. You’re my little brother. And nothing can change that.”

And with that, the Angels dove down.

Jason shook his head. He’s not the Dick he wants to hear those words from. He knows those words will never come out of his brother’s mouth.

Well, he wasn’t getting any more info by astral projection. Time for the good old fashion way. 

If Jason Todd in this Universe was a son of Bruce Wayne, known to be the Guardian Angel of Gotham, he was probably being kept somewhere secure. Not with any of the rest of the kids who were being trafficked. He would also be up for a secret bid. One that only people with jets filled with money and power could participate in.

He scaled down the wall and lowered himself to the ground in a relatively bold way. Bold enough to catch eyes, but with enough menace to avoid weapons. Just like old times.

He scanned the crowd. A crowd reeking of Untitled energy– it wasn’t everyone, but a solid amount. 

Though there was one who stood out the most. 

Jason kept his hands in his pockets as he strode forwards. Hands in his pockets meant he had something to hide. Striding forwards with his chin slightly down, but his eyes fixed on one person, meant he had prey.

He loomed over the man. Close enough for him to feel Jason’s presence, but not to the point where they were touching. He spoke low, “Rumor has it you have some of the best Wings Gotham has to offer. Most of what I’m seeing here, I could find in Metropolis or New York.”

The monster of a man didn’t flinch, but he did shift and turn his head to Jason. Good. “What typa wings ya got?”

Jason smirked, in a way that didn’t reach his eyes and tilted his head while he stared through the man, “What makes you think I have any?”

“Whadarya, a cop? Everyone has wings, and I swear if–”

“What if, I told you mine were ripped away slowly. Feather by feather. Skin from bone. Bone from my very being until I was left nothing but a husk of who I used to be. Go ahead. Try to kill me. Though, believe me, you’ve never fought a man who’s already dead.”

The man’s eyebrows deepened, “Stay for the real show. It starts in thirty minutes, after all the wannabes leave.”

Jason slipped back into the shadows without a word. He tracked Bruce and Dick opening cages, and the Angels fly into and out of the shadows. It was a slow process to make sure no one noticed, though they were making good progress. To the point where there were only three cages they hadn’t gotten to by the time the 30 minutes were up.

There was the sound of gunshots as the man he was talking to earlier held a gun to the air and stalked to the center of the room, withering vulture wings visible. “Scram! Or the ceiling won’t be the only thing with bulletholes in it.” Just to prove his point, vulture wings grabbed the nearest person and shot them in the head.

There was the sound of wings rustling the air as the uninvited guests left. Followed by a couple more gunshots.

Vulture Wings turned back to the remaining crowd, “Well well well, my friends, you’ve just made it to the afterparty, and should I tell you, you’re in for a real treat tonight.” the room erupted into cheers, but died down as soon as Vulture Wings put his hand up. “Now, Now. Before I show you the Good I’ve got stalked up, I’ll be giving you a disclaimer. This one, is not for sale.” a rumble of Boos chimed throughout the basement, “Hold on! Hold on! You’ll all get something out of this. Donny! Bring out the feathers! And Tony! You know your que.” Donny brought four bags to Vulture Man, “Now, we all know our dear Guardian Angels of Gotham. Of Bruce Wayne and his Protectors Wings. And of Dick Grayson and his Virtues Wings. Though, there’s another Guardian Angel. One who’s wings we’ve never seen. There are certain people who theorize that the little one is just a late bloomer, or that he’s not an Angel so to stick with branding he keeps his wings hidden.” Vulture Wings let out a laugh  and unzipped one of the duffles, pulling out a singular, pristine white feather. One that seemed to have an ethereal glow to it. “Boy were they wrong.”

There was the screeching of old hinges being unlocked above them. Something– someone was being lowered from the loft.

A Seraphim.

Angel Jason.

He was hanging by his arms, and his legs were bare. All broken and bruised. His wings were next to bare. Most of The feathers had been plucked off, leaving a spare few that were stained red with blood. Two sets of the broken bare wings were curled in to shield his body and face. The last set were hanging at a painfully unnatural angle. 

“No. No! ” He couldn’t pin down the emotion in Angel Dick’s cry. Rage? Fear? Grief? Vengance ? 

Doesn’t matter, because either way, all hell broke loose.

All the Tainted Wings started lunging for the duffle bags filled with feathers, taking down anyone who got in their way. 

Angel Bruce was busy trying to make sure the duffles didn’t end up in the wrong hands, while Angel Dick was trying to make it to Angel Jason, but kept getting pulled back anyone with Tainted wings who were also trying to get to the Seraphim.

Jason had to get to him. He-he promised Angel Bruce, He he couldn’t let an Angel die.  

Jason summoned his All-Blades, and began slashing and stabbing, with only one thing in mind.

How could they have seen something so holy and defiled it?

He could feel his soul burn up with every Tainted Wing he banished, like a fire that was slowly simmering out, but he couldn’t make himself care. If he had to lose his soul in order to save an Angel , someone who’s soul was probably worth trillions of his, he would do it. He would do it in a heartbeat.

Suddenly, Angel Jason jerked down. 

The rope he was hanging from was fraying. 

Jason’s eyes snapped to Dick, who already had his grapple out and was flinging himself towards the Angel. But he was bodyslammed off of his trajectory. Angel Dick was surrounded by Tainted Wings, desparately trying to shake them loose so he could save his brother. And both Bruces were occupied too.

And Jason… Jason wouldn’t make it to him in time.

He watched as the rope snapped. He watched as the Seraphim fell, seemingly in slow motion. He heard a shout come from Dick, though he wasn’t sure which one. 

He was sure everything had frozen when Jay made contact with the ground.

An Angel had fallen.

Something had slammed into Jason’s head hard, and for a second, he didn’t see the broken wings of an angel. He saw the tattered yellow cape of a Robin. He saw a face that was tinged blue with Hypothermia. A mouth filling with blood from a punctured rib. A neck bleeding out. A Lamb to the slaughter curling in on himself. A doll.

Jason thrusted his Blade into a stomach, as he got back onto his shaky legs. 

A fallen Angel.

Angel Dick rushed to the Seraphim. Mercilessly taking out anyone who was in his way. Jason took out anyone who got too close to the pair. 

Angel Dick cradled Angel Jason in his arms. “Jason… Jason, can you, can you stay awake for me? Please?” Jason knew he was gone, deep in his being, but Angel Dick continued, “Please, Jason. You can… just rant to me about that one story? Like you always do. The one… what was his name, Icarus? It was Icarus right? And spring? It was spring when he fell. It’s not spring right now. And you don’t have– why would anyone have wings made of wax, that’s just stupid. And whoever wrote that story was dumb, because obviously the higher up you go, the colder it gets, so the wax wouldn’t melt, it would’ve frozen and gotten hard. Jason.” Dick shook him and one of his wings stopped veiling his face, “Jason. It’s not spring. You don’t have wings of wax, your–your wings are mine, and- and my wings are yours. You’re my wings. And you can’t– Jason! You asshole, wake up!” Dick smacked his face but it didn’t do anything, “You promised. You promised we could fly together after– after you told Bruce. You promised we’d fly together, and I promised I would teach you. If you can’t fly then I can’t. I can’t. If you’re not next to me, I’m not going to fly. I can’t fly. Don’t you understand? You’re my wings. I can’t fly without my wings.”

Jason realized no one was attacking them anymore. Which was a good thing because he was pretty sure if he stabbed one more Tainted Wing, his soul would completely disappear. 

He felt his knees go limp and his head spin. 

Dick Grayson, the last Flying Grayson, a man who’s feet were probably in the air more often than they were on the ground– something that had to be true across the multiverse, because if it wasn’t that wasn’t Dick Grayson– couldn’t fly because his brother couldn’t. Because it wasn’t Dick’s wing’s that were his soul, it was his family. His family was his soul. His family was his wings. And he couldn’t fly without his wings.

A pair of hands grabbed his face and it took him a moment to piece together that they belonged to Dick. His brother. He immediately rested his forehead into the crook of his kneck, trust be damned. Or whatever complicated feelings that ranged between them, be damned.

Everthing turned white around them, and he was pretty sure he had passed out, until a voice spoke. 

A very familiar voice. 

“You have mastered the All-Blades?”

Jason could feel the very blades in question retract back into his soul as he turned his head so he could confirm who he was speaking with, with his eyes, “Oh. Hi Talia. Yes.” 

And then he passed out.

[911prompts]

On one starry night in Pennsylvania, Maddie Buckley and her brother Daniel, met a boy who brought them on the most marvelous adventures. With just a bit of faerie dust and happy thoughts, they fly out of their bedroom following the little boy called Buck.

The three of them go on grand adventures from mermaids to pirates, flying to swimming. The magical young Buck is fearless and happy to find these friends hoping they’d stay with him forever.

The dream doesn’t last - there’s no mistaking the rattling cough that shakes Daniel’s body and the concerned furrow of Maddie’s brow.

Daniel needs help that he can’t get in Neverland.

In the days and weeks following their adventure in Neverland, Buck periodically visits his new friends.

Until one day, there was only Maddie.

Being an ever loyal friend to the Buckley children, Buck decides to keep a close eye on Maddie through her heartbreak.

A month after Daniel’s death, Buck discovers that he can no longer fly without Tink’s help.

Two months after, the boy who never wanted to grow up decides he must … for the boy who never got the chance.

Or;

Buck is Peter Pan AU - he’s not actually Maddie’s brother but they’ve been so close since Daniel’s death, they might as well be. Buck still goes on his travels and it’s less about running away and more about discovering everything he stopped himself from wanting. He still writes postcards to Maddie about his adventures; Maddie still marries Doug; they both still end up in LA; Buck still is fired and rehired by Bobby - after so many years of being a boy it takes him a hot minute for adulthood and maturity to sink in

The only difference really is that Buck has more fantastical stories to tell Christopher and Jee-Yun. He’s a bit more fearless and that much more brave.

Sometimes he’ll think of about Tink and the rest at pixie hollow, wonder how the mermaids are doing, imagine the taste of the feasts he’d have in Neverland. But then he’ll look around at a gathering at Bobby’s with the 118 and be so grateful for the life that he’s been given.

Peter Pan quotes for inspiration under the cut ;)

“Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.”

“All children, except one, grow up.”

"To die will be an awfully big adventure.”

[vulnonapixs-marvel-corner]

(This plays in the "Kingpin steals Peters's egg to create a war" with dragon emperor Peter, au no one cared for)

Except that instead of Mayday, Miles is the one kidnapped.

A bit of backstory/background:

Miles is a cursed child. A human that is so in tune with the magic, that he will adapt to the magical beings around him.

Under kingpins reign, cursed children were collected and turned into living weapons.

To hide him, Aaron became one of kingpins high knights and his parents used a variety of charms to null the magic around him.

It made Miles a sickly but ensured his survival.

Then along came Beter, a wandering dragon who stole some food from the boy.

At least he tried that when Miles collapsed due to the charms.

Long story short, he takes Miles under his wing, Aaron gets killed after Kingpin realizes what Miles is and Miles takes down Kingpin together with Peter, who then is crowned emperor.

Due to his cursed child status, Miles takes more and more after Peter, even growing wings and horns at some time.

For Peter, he became an emotional support son and heir to the kingdom.

Everything seemed great, till Peter and MJ spawned an egg.

Now, dragons are extremely protective about their hatchling, so Miles cut his losses and left before Peter could see him as a danger and kill him.

On his way traveling to his hometown, he was taken by Kingpin's minions.

To make their messages clear to Peter, they send him Miles wings, horns, scales, and tail.

Once they "harvested" his body, they just left him alone in the basement.

After all, he was the main reason why kingpin lost power, so he deserved to die like a traitor.

Forgotten and all alone.

He didn't die, because Hobie (an adventurer) found him and patched him up.

Due to everything that had happened, Miles repressed all his memories surrounding Peter and dragons.

Hobie takes Miles into his little group of misfits and they travel the land together.

[mamawasatesttube]

straight on ‘til morning

M | 6.9k | kon-centric, hurt/comfort | ch 1/8

“All children, except one, grow up.” ― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Kon hasn't been a kid in a long time - he's not stuck at sixteen anymore, and he hasn't been for years; he's twenty-three and living his best life. But the past has funny ways of coming back to haunt everyone when they least expect it, and there's no predicting the storm on the horizon for him.

It starts simply, as do most things. Jon turns sixteen.

Jon turns sixteen, and Kon suddenly realizes that if anyone were to treat him the way he was treated at sixteen, he'd tear the world apart.

The revelations, unfortunately, don't stop there.

“—happy biiirthdaaaay, dear Jooonnooo, happy biiiirthdaaay to yooouuu!”

Jon’s grin is blindingly bright and stretches from ear-to-ear as the room finishes their horrible, off-key song—hell, Kon even notices Bruce mumbling along from the corner behind Clark—and Lois steps forward, smiling broadly, to catch him blowing out the candles on video. Everyone cheers and claps and whistles.

“Look at you, already sixteen!” Dick leans on the table, suavely, because he manages to make everything he does suave. Kon’s known the guy for however many years now, and he’s still trying to take notes on how he does that. “Man, you kids grow up so fast.”

“Stop that,” Damian interrupts, elbowing him. It’s still so fucked up that at eighteen, he’s hit a growth spurt that put him nearly at Dick’s height; even more than fucked up, though, it’s funny, ‘cuz Tim is so bitter about it. “You’re being embarrassing.”

“Oh no, my baby brother thinks I’m being embarrassing, whatever shall I do—"

{ Continue reading on AO3! }

[fractiflos]

for the fairytale ask game, please consider:

all for one as the pied piper of hamelin. yoichi is among the missing children, kudou's leg was broken and bruce was deaf so they couldn't follow along, and all the other ofa users after them are investigators looking for them. how the rest of the story goes is up to you.

(not sure if someone has already suggested this , but it was either this or peter pan :'D)

Don't worry, you're the first one to ask about this. And it's a good thing too because my Peter Pan knowledge is pretty rusty :)

AFO became a piper because he wanted to lure children away with magic when he was a child to get playmates. He succeeded in that, but despite his body growing, his mind never matured and he keeps luring children away to have someone to play with.

One day, he ends up in the town of Musutafu and starts playing. All the kids follow him except Kudo, who broke his leg climbing a tree, and Bruce, who was born deaf. They see all the kids going, including their best friend Yoichi (their all 9) and his little brothers Hikage (he's 6) and Izuku (he's 4)

They run (Kudo's pretty good on crutches) to get the adults who are in the midst of a town meeting. Mayor Yagi puts the town investigators on the case, Daigoro Banjo, Nana Shimura, and her cousin En, who just gets dragged on these missions for no reason. Kudo and Bruce are worried about their friends, so they sneak onto the wagon and go with them.

Meanwhile, AFO is having a grand time playing pretend with kids from inside a nearby cave he's hidden himself. He's the Demon King and pretends to defeat the "Heroes". His favorites are Yoichi, Hikage, and Izuku, because they're the best players (AKA they get defeated easiest). Meanwhile, the investigators + the kids have finally managed to find him thanks to his monologuing.

There's a big fight scene, but in the end, Bruce manages to make AFO drop his flute and Kudo breaks it, destroying the magic and breaking the spell. The investigators arrest him and the Number Duo gets in trouble for sneaking out, but at least they have Yoichi back. And his little brothers too.

I couldn't resist letting Yoichi be the oldest for once. It's the season of giving after all. I hope you enjoyed this gift :)

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Christ our Source, our Sustenance, and our Solace

Is it possible that living for Christ brings more joy than any worldly pleasure? Could the purpose of our life be to strive to grow like Him, in His image and following His footsteps?

When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory. — Colossians 3:4

Christ is the source of our life. It is He who breathed life into us and reawakened us from the death of our trespasses and sins. It is His life that quickens our own; it is He who resides within us, offering hope and steering our actions.

Christ is also the sustenance of our life. It is His flesh and blood that feeds us, His divine substance that gives us life. As travelers on the path of righteousness, we can find no satisfying sustenance for our spirits except in Him.

Moreover, Christ is our solace in good times and even more so in days of distress. True joy, comfort, and consolation in difficult times are all derived from Him. Without Him, life is devoid of meaning, but His kindness and love are far more precious than life itself.

Christ should be the goal of our life. Like a ship speeding toward a safe port or an arrow flying to its target, we must hasten toward a deep, fulfilling relationship with Christ. He is our captain, our guide, and in His victory that we find our own triumph.

Finally, Christ is our life's exemplar—our one true example and role model. As we cultivate His life within us, we start to show His characteristics externally. By constantly maintaining fellowship with Him, we grow to become more like Him, setting Him as our model. We aim to tread in His footsteps until we eventually appear with Him in glory. What could be safer, more honorable, or happier than living with Christ as our life?

May You, O Lord, be our life source. Guide us to find solace and sustenance in You. Help us to strive toward You as our ultimate goal. May we grow to reflect Your image and glory.

Questions for Reflection

How does understanding Christ as the source of your life change your perspective on daily living?

How can you better incorporate Christ's teachings as the sustenance of your life?

What does it mean to you to have Christ as the solace of your life, especially during challenging times?

In what ways can you make Christ the ultimate goal of your life?

How can you seek to reflect Christ as your life's exemplar in your daily actions?

How can Christ's lovingkindness be better than life, especially in moments of despair?

How can you maintain a closer fellowship with Christ in your daily routines?

How can you apply the concept of Christ's victory as your own in overcoming personal challenges?

How would you explain to someone else that Christ is the source, sustenance, solace, goal, and exemplar of your life?

How does living in Christ change the way you interact with others?

In what ways can Christ's presence influence societal change?

What practical steps can you take to cultivate Christ's life within you?

Supporting Scriptures

Romans 8:10: But if Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, yet your spirit is alive because of righteousness.

Galatians 2:20: I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me.

Philippians 1:21: For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

1 Peter 1:7: so that the proven character of your faith—more precious than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

1 John 3:2: Beloved, we are now children of God, and what we will be has not yet been revealed. We know that when Christ appears, we will be like Him, for we will see Him as He is.

Revelation 1:7: Behold, He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him—even those who pierced Him. And all the tribes of the earth will mourn because of Him. So shall it be! Amen.

Revelation 22:20: He who testifies to these things says, “Yes, I am coming soon.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!