#‘there is no greater act of defiance than living a full life’ well that’s just not true

[boycritter]

“the most radical thing you can do right now is survive” but like not really. there’s actually a lot more things you can do that are more radical.

[finelyageddragons]

Currently in love with the relationship between the Grey Wardens and being doomed by the narrative, especially with how the HOF subverts that relationship so here's a 3am rant about it. Enjoy! The wardens are ghosts. They are born by letting go of everything you had before and drinking poison to bind your fate to the darkspawn and promise that your life and perhaps more importantly, your death belongs to them. The whole joining is a terrifying experience, you're drinking the blood of monsters and seeing a corrupt god in your mind and waking up to see those who died around you and being told you'll meet the same fate soon enough you've just been given more time to get there because to sacrifice, to die is a warden's purpose. Even if you survive becoming a warden, your best case scenario is sacrificing yourself to end the blight but it's far more likely you'll die fighting darkspawn or even more likely lose your mind and have to go to the deep roads to be lost and have your death be your last act of defiance in the face of this overwhelming wave of evil waiting to rise again. The best thing that can happen to a warden is to die in a meaningful way because you gave away your life the moment you drank that blood. All you are now is a soldier waiting to die in war and hopefully take the enemy down with you. It is tragic and haunting and noble and so full of grief. Grief for the live you gave behind and for the one you'll never have. Every warden spends every day of their life hoping not for a future or any life for themselves but simply to make their death mean something which is an incredibly interesting mental state and I could go on about how that effects individuals and messes with their values so that corruption is rife but what started this whole thing is Fereldan.

A wonderful post by @sapphim (which I don't know how to cite but I wanna give credit so if there's a way please tell me) discussed how beneficial it was for the wardens that the fifth blight occured in Fereldan and how much they lost by it being solved so soon. To put it simply, they wanted to sacrifice Fereldan as a lost cause and use it as an example of why they wardens shouldn't be neglected. They wanted it to be known of how much of a sacrifice they make an how important their duty by letting the country of Fereldan be an example of what happens when no one is there to do it and that the narrative has doomed everyone, that the world's crimes will be paid for unless someone is willing to be selfless and bear the burden to give the world another chance. Andraste would have been a great warden I'm sure. In the eyes of the warden, Fereldan is tainted just like their blood, it is promised to the darkspawn just like they are, willingly or not it bears the duty that all wardens do and must make the sacrifice they do too. For the greater good. To stop the darkspawn. It's better you having a death that matters than a life that lasts. This is the psychology of the wardens and they are applying those same beliefs to all of Fereldan. Why must they be the only ones doomed by the narrative? There is no surviving this story and there is saving the world there is only killing the darkspawn before it kills you. Thedas is at war with the archdemons and until they're all dead, there is no peace, there is only preparing for the next battle. There is no building a life, no building a country, there is nothing to protect because it is all doomed.

The way duty and sacrifice and the promise of the Grey Wardens must alter their values and perspective on life is fascinating and there is so much to explore here but what's important for this post is that the foundation of their entire order is that they are already dead.

This then brings us to the HOF and cheating death. Duncan is like the grim reaper in Origins the way he comes and snatches your soul at the end of each origin which I honestly love and it ties in so well to the idea that wardens are ghosts given you die in every other version of the story without him but that's the story of all wardens. They all die a symbolic death at the joining so that's okay but then Ostogar happens. Flemeth happens. You should have died. Fereldan should have been lost. Remember, the duty of the wardens is dying not surviving but you did survive, snatched away by a god. Every other warden has died thinking their paying the price for an absent god yet this goddess not only favours you, she changed fate for you. Every other warden throughout history has paid the price but not you. Not Fereldan. You get to cheat the fate while it dooms everyone else. Can you imagine how that must have felt for the other wardens? How much they must hate the hero for stealing the martyr Fereldan was set to be and making all their losses naught but a tragedy when it could have been so much more? Not only did you escape your own death but you stole the value of theirs. You survived which goes against everything the wardens are made for.

Going even further than that, you have the dark ritual where you can actively choose to cheat death again. When every other warden has had to give their life, had to sacrifice and lose and grieve and poison their humanity as they did their bodies, you get to escape it all. Wardens have struggled for decades to have a foothold in Fereldan but you'll go so far as to choose their ruler for them without any consultation. You have been a warden less than a year, ended a battle that they prepared for over hundreds of years and sacrificed more hundreds of years fighting in the past and not only have you defied everything they defined themselves by, you have made them look like fools and decided their fate for them. You have stolen the meaning of the death of every warden, you have stolen their martyrs and the justifications for their actions and by keeping your own life and humanity, by resisting their poison you have made them all look like monsters.

The hero was doomed by the narrative as all wardens are but they rewrote fate, they stole their life back so many times and by surviving, they created a whole new narrative that ruined everything the wardens were built upon. The wardens were made to be ghosts, not heroes. They're meant to die and be remembered nobly so they can be redeemed for they had to do to get there but not you hero. You get to shame us all, don't you?

[wherestarsarestillasleep]

returning the favor!!! do YOU have any particular thoughts on vlr u feel like sharing atm?

TIME FOR MY KYLEPOST

i dont think about VLR in a vacuum nearly as much as i do 999 but i most certainly have thoughts

every aspect of the person kyle is was calculated decades before his birth. bred like a pedigree dog every aspect of his environment constructed around him like a lab rat, literally hand-designed and grown in a lab for this purpose. his entire life is a step by step list, painstakingly behaviourally conditioned to end up full of a fester of resentment and anger and loneliness and despair in such a way to ensure he is willing to kill and die on what he believes to be (and what still is) his own emotion and conviction and turmoil, but it is a spur of the moment breakdown response the people he is lashing back against in rebellion set up for him. they made him like this very, very deliberately, they had to raise or rather fail to raise him in a way to make sure he'd become this person Sigma already met. They make sure he is someone who will hate this.

Sigma does this by not raising him at all but Akane, with this purpose in mind decades before he would ever exist, does this by showing up most of the way into Kyle's life giving him the first meaning he ever felt in his life and then taking it away again.

She lived with him for years. she had to be what she was for him, was there truth in it? does akane love him? does she care for him at all? is he nothing more than a tool to her? does the answer to that matter at all? not really. kyle believes she did. snake voice whether the devil actually exists holds no relevance. and kyle loves HER. as much as he can try not to, he does.

When he finds out what the ab project is actually for, what he's been working towards the last four years of his life he tries to blow up the entire facility and all of them in it. this is just a major step in what they have designed him to do. all his acts of rebellion and defiance are, unknown to him, just more preset points to check off on their list.

His own route he remembers who his father is who his mother is and his immediate responses are to commit murder and then pull a suicide bomber gambit test, again

well what would he have done if his unknowing father (cause like. sigma doesnt fucking remember bro) really did save him at the expense of his own and Phi's lives? what if he was met with proof he was loved, that his life did matter to sigma, and then was as a direct result left entirely alone having killed three of the 9 people himself? was kyle so certain this would never happen, he really just wanted vindication in his belief he is unloved to define the moment of his death? was that the real point?

And this is the moment he ultimately deliberately and most directly helps their plan. he does it anyway, he tells Sigma the code, delivers the message. he's disgusted by sigma and akanes plan enough he tried to blow up the fucking facility that encompassed the only world he ever knew and everyone in it but in the end at the point where he has to carry out his critical instructions, what he could have made a final defiance after Sigma saved Phi over him (and where Luna in parallel quite possibly couldn't ever refuse to do by nature), a chance he didn't know could have been an actual defiance they really didn't want him to do, he goes through with their instruction anyway. Im not sure what that says about him.

And what was it they told him about this moment? to lead him to organically destructively act it out and then recognise it as the point he was meant to deliver that message?

he Only exists and would only ever have existed for a plan he doesn't fucking care about. even if he may or may not agree with the noble greater good moral justification framing why would he care. he has no way to conceptualise it. it does nothing for him. he cares about what he has, but what he has is two people that lament his reality ever existed and he rejects the only chance for real solidarity he might have in Luna.

for someone who knew only one other human for most of his life, and barely saw that human, Kyle places an awful lot of emphasis on "humanity", it’s a word he uses several times over as synonymous with morality and compassion and rightness.

for all he shuns and for lack of a better word dehumanises Luna how different are they really? They're both designed and sculpted. They both had their thought patterns determined and programmed to behave in a certain consistent way. All for the same sole purpose. Creating just a chance at a superior, perfect, far more valuable world where they could never exist to be a part of. Where there was no need for them. They don't even have their own faces.

The way he talks about junpei and what akane told him about junpei the hatred of a stranger he's never met that she values far more than himself

i NEED him to talk to tenmyouji knowing who he is with full context for them both, there's so much ground there the futile grasps for their own agency the anger the cannot stop loving akane kurashiki no matter how much they Try to the you are a faceless representation of everything she cared about more than she cared for me. while she was the most important person in my world i realised there was someone more important than me in hers. the making meaning in a world and a life others have discarded as hopeless and not worth saving and just a stepping stone to a hypothetical you'll never comprehend and then finally then will she be satisfied? will it be worth it then? why can't it be worth it now, here. (why can't they matter enough to her for that.)

i fucking wish he was in ztd dude shifting him into a context he was never meant to exist in and seeing what he does with that and him getting to interact with the sigma that is Actually his father and an akane that has never met him and whose top priority is avoiding letting this world become one where he is ever born

[renzu-valra]

Mindless/Heartless ; Defiance/Definition (#19)

Characters: Nozaki/Ietasu  ♦  Regions: Doma, Hingashi, Ishgard  ♦  Time: 3 Years Ago/Present Hosted by: @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​ Warnings: murder, character death, blood

Betrayal.

Black smoke emerged from the crumbled, flame-soaked walls surrounding him—its vile, oxygen depleted death beginning to take over his lungs. This was his revenge, and he would not rest until he was satiated. Even though he knew full well that acquiring such contentedness was a lie. That this world was brought together not by hopes and unity, but by violence and discord. That profound words such as “betrayal” and “justice” were merely lies used to disassociate from the truth. This world was corrupted by an unachievable desire to hurt. And men such as the one laying dead before him spun lies convincing others that it should be achieved. By all—so long as their reason was just enough.

Nozaki fell before the mess of man he had created with his bare hands. His blade long since disposed of. He had been betrayed, and this was the price he was made to pay. The “taught” price of betrayal. It didn’t change anything knowing that Shinza was dead. He believed he wasn’t—that he’d still writhe and squirm under his grip. He wanted to wrap his bloodied guts around his throat and squeeze the last traces of air from his lungs. Then he wanted to rip those very lungs out from his chest and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine.

He was losing his strength. The more the fires raged onwards, the more smoke that polluted the room. Threatening his very life. But it mattered none to him. He could only think about one thing. Revenge. He wanted to kill the man before him over and over and over again until his very soul cried out in pain; to kill, kill, kill, kill, kill—

And in the room now flooded over with an impenetrable darkness, he let out a broken scream. It sounded more like raspy chokes than a real scream, but it was a cry that came out from the bowels of his heart. The final roar of a beast who fought against a world that denied him salvation at every turn; a world that only served to deeper engrain the sole instinct of violence into his very being. More than anything else, he wanted to wrap his hands around the cord which kept this world alive and tear it to shreds. To destroy it; to destroy everything. To destroy that which betrayed him most. Everything. It should all die by his hand…everything. Everything. Nothing deserved a second chance. Nothing…

Not even him.

 ----

 There was no purpose behind his actions. Looking back on it now, he couldn’t ration as to why exactly he pulled the Raen from the smoke. Perhaps it was nothing more than a long-gone memory which made him act. Saving Nozaki was pointless. He understood the man better than any other. If he wasn’t to die here, he would simply die elsewhere. Accomplishing nothing.

The morning sun was now blackened by thick smoke. Soon, the whole area would be engulfed in flames. One would normally believe help would arrive—that someone would be sent to extinguish the fires. But he knew better. This would be but the beginning of a fire that would spread without end. A meager bud soon to bloom into a flower of entropy.

He felt nothing for all those who would die in the blaze. Everyone would lose something. All save him. He no longer possessed anything which could be lost. He didn’t even have a reason to live.

But carry on he would. Dragging along the dying memories of his past. Until they were both clear of the fire. Until he could make his exit—his debt repaid in part.

Abandoning Nozaki against a collapsed stone building for the world to take for better or worse. He however, needed to be elsewhere. Not for his own sake, but due to an oath he cared not to fulfill. And even though he had not motive to see to it, he was sworn by it—stripped of his freedoms to choose otherwise. Exactly as he so wished it to be. He was nothing more than a tool to use in whatever way best befitted another.

He had sold his heart to the devil, and he had no intention of reclaiming it. His prior motivations but dust in the wind. The very reason he had first given it away now but a disfigured and empty shell on the ground. There were so many pointless things in this world. So much given away in hopes of having some meaning…but in the end, there truly was no purpose in anything. No greater cause. Nothing worth sacrificing towards. There was nothing of any value in this pathetic, deplete world.

He too, was without meaning.

 ----

 And yet, he was allowed to watch the fireworks with that child.

Someone like him…shouldn’t have been given an opportunity like that. A moment in time so pure and without fault. He couldn’t forget how brightly Xah’s eye shone with wonder as they watched the explosion of colours flash before them in the starry night sky. It was as if the world stopped dead in its tracks to allow them this tranquil space. A small pocket in which the rest of its cruel machinations simply were not allowed to trespass upon.

A moment in which he was allowed to forget the one person he had battled against the world for.

A moment in which he could believe…that there was more to this world than he had yet to see.

That perhaps it wasn’t all so evil and rancid.

But then he was reminded that that’s all it had been. A tiny bubble that could easily be popped should the will of the world wish it so. Xah had been taken from him without warning—without cause—without reason—without him being given a chance to stop it.

He was a boy who the world had stripped from him his life, his limbs, his laugh…and yet somehow found the will to persevere. To find once more the strength to stand up and face the stars. Heart wide and full of hope.

Nozaki wouldn’t let the world break him—he would fight for that child’s sake. So that he might have a future…because finally—finally, Nozaki could see it too. He wouldn’t let that brilliant dream be squashed like a bug. Not again. If Xah could do it…then he could too. That’s what he believed.

That was why he would journey across the skies—through the unknown—and find him. No matter what it took, he would save that boy and protect his freedom. That they might both find a future without strife and wrong.

That they might both be given a second chance.

 ----

 Laying in the dark wet space of a back alleyway, he thought back to his time shared with that boy.

If…he had never met him, he would’ve let himself fade into the blackness. His pointless life…rid of in a pointless way. He still considered himself a tool to be used and discarded as if trash. A thing, not a person—whose sole existence was meant to serve others and not itself.

However, when he remembered Xah’s face…how it stared at him as if he truly was a meaningless thing to be discarded…he remembered how it looked when Xah saw him as something important. Something he couldn’t live without.

Everything he gave to him. Taught him. Every sleepless night…it wasn’t for nothing. Not when he could see it in the boy’s sad eyes how much he was needed by him. He couldn’t let it all go to waste. To sit back and let Xah’s mind be tampered with and taken from him. Xah needed him, now more than ever. And so he wouldn’t let this attempt at his life steer him off course. Next time…he would save him. And he will be more cautious about it. Careful. Planned.

And he will rescue him from that man’s clutches. And…and then…

They would find something…something else to give their lives together meaning. A purpose…perhaps…

A reason to live…

All he could think about was protecting Xah. About holding his arm tight against his gut to stop his blood from pouring out. He wanted to live so that he could see Xah look at him once more…as if he was needed. That he could tell Xah that he too…was someone who was necessary in this world.

More than anything else he had told himself before, that was the truth of it all. The deepest layer hidden within himself which longed to come out into the open. Everything else was just a stern fabrication to keep his heart from being laid bare.

With Xah, he had meaning in this world, and he would not give it up.

[tcnks]

THE ROOM IS ON FIRE AND SHE’S FIXING HER HAIR—

𝖖 𝖚 𝖔 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

“Sometimes he looked at her and thought, Gosh, I wonder what’s underneath all that anger, all that hard glossy armor? Maybe there’s just an innocent, wounded little girl in there who wants to come out and play and be loved and get happy. But now he wondered if maybe that little girl was long gone, or if she’d ever been there at all. What was under all that armor, all that anger? More anger, and more armor. Anger and armor, all the way down.” — The Magician’s Land, Lev Grossman. 

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: Nymphadora Patagonia Teodora “Fabiola” Black Tonks. Or, understandably, just Tonks. One of the most excruciating moments of a young Tonks’s life was the dissociative experience that came from hearing Professor McGonagall read her entire name aloud (Baptismal name included, as if they didn’t have enough to deal with, though her dearly departed Godfather’s addition had thankfully not made the cut) stony-faced and with suspicious volume, at the Sorting Ceremony. It was a humiliation that took years to live down, which is probably why a repeat offense at her Auror Academy graduation ceremony broke down her last, tired, moments of resolve. Only her nearest and dearest can get away with anything other than just Tonks these days.  NICKNAMES: Dora. Peuchen. Dorita. Estrellita. (An increasing array of absurd petnames that she bears with varying levels of grace.) AGE: 29 BIRTHDAY: April 6, 1973 GENDER: Demigirl. PRONOUNS: She/They BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood. SPECIES: Metamorphmagus (Wixen).

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: Andromeda Dorea Tonks nee Black. FATHER:  Edward “Ted” Álvaro Sepulveda Tonks

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙��𝖘

FACE CLAIM: Daniella Pineda BUILD: Small but athletic. HAIR: Variable.  HAIR COLOR: Variable. EYE COLOR: Variable. SKIN COLOR: Variable. DOMINANT HAND: Left. ANOMALIES: (Everything) Tattoos; a mish mash of stick’n’poke, magical and non-magical tattoos that have been amassing over the years. SCENT: Roasting coffee beans, oranges, cinnamon, honey. ALLERGIES: Unemployment. Children under the age of four. FASHION: Eclectic. Entirely dependent on her moods.  NERVOUS TICS: While she’s gotten much better at controlling her Metamorphmagus abilities over the years, it still takes a tremendous amount of effort to prevent her emotions from influencing them. This means that there are definite tells to be found in her appearance as to what her mood is, particularly in times of high emotional stress. The rule of thumb has always been that the darker her hair is, the moodier she is.

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: A flat located above Dogweed & Death Cap, Diagon Alley. BORN: Porthmeor, Cornwall. RAISED: A cottage right on the waterfront, Porthmeor, Cornwall. PETS: None that are hers, specifically. She recently gave a dog to her parents in the hopes it might absorb some of their attention. CAREER: Former-Auror. Current Head of Security for Club Raven. EXPERIENCE: Auror’s Academy Graduate, 1994. Eight and a half years as an active duty Auror before suspension.  EMPLOYER: Cavalier Avery. POLITICAL AFFILIATION: Light.  BELIEFS: Alastor Moody was (and still is) the greatest auror of their time. That blame falls as much on the shoulders of those who fail to take action as those who commit the crime. That neutrality really isn’t an option when there is a choice to be made about human rights.  MISDEMEANORS: She is an officer of the law. FELONIES: .. In the name of the law? (No.) DRUGS: She really does care about her career. SMOKES: Has never once made it through an entire cigarette. ALCOHOL: Yes. DIET: A steady diet of leftovers that her father’s filled her freezer with.  LANGUAGES: Spanish, English. A creative combination of both. PHOBIAS: She is terrified of losing her abilities or the prospect of failure. HOBBIES: Finding trouble wherever she goes. Fixating on work. Annoying Moody. Terrorising her cousins. TRAITS:  + Vibrant / - Tactless: Loud. Energetic. Brash. Annoying. There were many ways in which Tonks’ existence could be quantified, but subtle was not one of them. Over time Tonks has taken to wearing her loud reputation like her own coat of arms; her very best and worst attributes flaunted with a deliberateness that seems almost too knowing, too on the nose, to not be covering for something. Arrogance and recklessness, hot-headed impulsiveness and a particularly caustic brand of wit wielded with a blunt charm that she’s grown increasingly fond of throwing in the face of the people who would whisper behind her back about just where here loyalties lie these days. The flippancy with which she greets the world, like she’s in on the joke that the rest of the world hasn’t quite caught the punchline of, only seems to grate on those who wish she’d treat the importance of her position with a little more respect. Tonks lives her life at full volume, with little regard for the opinions or delicate feelings of others who would ask her to reign it in, just a little, for their own comfort. + Driven / - Reckless: Nobody could ever say that Tonks did not possess an iron will, when it came to the things she wanted in life. Underneath all that vibrant glossy armour she wears like a warning sign, Tonks’ honourable qualities lurk: she may not always enjoy the banal, everyday routine of being an Auror, just as she may not think much of the people in charge, but Tonks is dedicated and steadfast in her job and worked tirelessly to get there. She has proven, time and again, a willingness to make the hard choice and put the greater good over her own reputation or honour. It takes a certain kind of steel to say precisely what is on your mind, to act even when duty and honour and all those boring noble virtues they try to instil in young Aurors tell you not to. She has never lacked for that sort of courage: the kind that requires a certain amount of defiance and a whole lot of audacity (and the willingness to circumvent every rule of authority, when your real loyalties and values are tested). Tonks has been forging the steel in her spine since she was old enough to frustrate her parents with her own headstrong opinions on what she wanted from life and how that differed from their hopes for her, and if she did not flinch (often) beneath her father’s gentle disappointment than there was certainly no one in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement who could make her cringe. And that was the truth of it: what people called boldness was only a matter of knowing what you wanted and being unafraid of what it would take to get it — and there was no length that Tonks was not willing to go to in order to do what’s right. + Insightful / - Nosy: If there was one thing that Alastor Moody taught her during those long years in the Academy, it was the value of deeds over words. The department may have been overrun, of late, with those too preoccupied by political ambitions to see the bigger picture and be willing to ruffle feathers, but Tonks has always been more insightful than she’s given credit for. Her knack for reading a room and the intentions of the people in it had been honed by her naturally suspicious mentor and years spent studying faces intently, all their little quirks and shapes, in order to recreate them in the mirror. For better or for worse, when put into a tight corner Tonks does not falter and she does not hesitate. Those who would call her impulsive would probably be correct, but she vastly prefers decisive and while her approach doesn’t always end well, she’s resourceful enough to almost always land on her feet running.  The talents of a fighter, however, are not the talents required of a diplomat and lately her propensity for digging her nose into things that the higher ups have deemed off limits have landed her in hot water within the department. While Tonks has always considered her talent for thinking on her feet, acting decisively without wasting time on the buffering, to be her strongest asset, she fears that in order to return to the job she worked so hard to get, it will be inaction that is required of her this time around. Trading her autonomy for one man’s whims again is not something Tonks relishes the idea of, especially when there are dire consequences for turning a blind eye to what might be coming.

𝖋 𝖆 𝖛 𝖔 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

LOCATION: Porthmeor Cove, Cornwall. SPORTS TEAM: The Holyhead Harpies / La Rojas. GAME: Quidditch. Football if her dad is the one asking. MUSIC: Smashing Pumpkins. MOVIES: Jurassic Park (for sentimental reasons obviously.) FOOD: The free kind. BEVERAGE: Coffee.  COLOR: Varying shades of pink, magenta and red.

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: Hufflepuff. WAND (LENGTH, FLEXIBILITY, WOOD, & CORE): Red Oak, 13 3/4″, Bendy, Dragon Heartstring. AMORTENTIA: Woodsmoke, Jasmine, Bourbon, Honeysuckle. PATRONUS: Jackrabbit. BOGGART: Herself, without her abilities.  Barty Crouch Jr.

𝖈 𝖍 𝖆 𝖗 𝖆 𝖈 𝖙 𝖊 𝖗

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good. MBTI: ESTP-A MBTI ROLE: The Entrepreneur  ENNEAGRAM: Seven ENNEAGRAM ROLE: The Enthusiast TEMPERAMENT: Choleric. WESTERN ZODIAC: Aries.  CHINESE ZODIAC: Ox. PRIMAL SIGN: Hippopotamus.  TAROT CARD: The Chariot, The Hierophant. TV TROPES: Blue Collar Warlock, Revisiting the Cold Case, Boisterous Bruiser, Allergic to Routine,  Heroic Resolve, Old Cop/Young Cop. SONGS: Sabotage - The Beastie Boys / Reptilia - The Strokes / Tonight, Tonight - Smashing Pumpkins / I Am The Highway - Audioslave / Time to Pretend - MGMT.

[utterimmolation]

AC: Syndicate/Captain America Drabble

He's a scrawny thing as they grow up. A heart full of courage and lungs barely strong enough to keep him going. Full of righteous fury and desperation, born of a premature birth and his father's distance.

"Fool," his sister murmurs, dabbing at his bloody lip and swollen eyes, souvenirs from yet another fight in another alley, goaded by another taunt. The light is dim, the stove barely works enough to heat the warm, medicinal milk she presses into his bruised, skinny hands, hand so like her own, yet far weaker.

On his worst days, he resents her healthy body. They were born at the same time, but she'd come first, perfectly healthy.

He came next, nearly dead and stealing his mother's life in a twisted exchange.

she is his twin though and no matter how much shakes her head clucks tongue at him full of that same righteous fury all who have been cast aside have. a woman in man world.> Look down at her at your peril, because her stringent refusal to exchange her pants for skirts mean she has a greater range of movement to kick you in the gnads and clock you in the face.

-----

Their father dies in the first war. Sort of.

He came home yes, but his mind, his soul had died, trampled in the trenches.

He doesn't drink, doesn't rage and rave like some other veterans do in the streets. He becomes quieter and quieter, and every tightening coil of rage and pain until he pops.

Jacob wonders if he was worse before they came to live with him in his small flat.

(Years, decades later, he discovers that yes, he was worse, and for all his faults, he was still just a man. A man who sent his children away, knowing he was a ticking bomb, knowing how volatile he could become, living in a neverending nightmare. A man, who tried to protect his children by sending them to his late wife's elderly parents, who sent money and medicine to try to prolong his in-laws lives.

A father who, when he could no longer deny the truth, fought his demons for the chance, for the right, to raise his children, and when he was on the brink of becoming them, fled, knowing they would chase him and leave those he loved safer.

Jacob Frye reads his father's letters and diaries, and finally, finally begins to forgive. He has too much regret already.)

Usually this rage will be released in an abrupt hurling of a book or a mug at a wall. Other times, is the sudden tightness of his voice as he excuses himself from the table, strides into his room, closes the door and punches the brick wall by his bed for hours. Occasionally it's him staying in bed for days on end, further stressing his poor daughter, who does what respectable jobs she can from sympathetic neighbors in order to try to keep both men in her life alive.

The final time Jacob ever sees it happen is the final time he sees his father.

He's taking out his temper, his inextinguishable rage from constantly being bedridden on his father. He's yelling himself hoarse, his beleaguered lungs straining more and more to provide his thin blood with oxygen and his father is winding up, tighter and tighter and he's ignoring the signs and--

Suddenly, Evie is on the floor, a large bruise already appearing on her face.

The room is silent. Ethan Frye's blank eyes begin to clear and slowly fill with horror as he looks from his hand to his daughter slowly getting up (never staying down, never), keeping herself between her other half and her sire.

Their father doesn't say a word. He slowly turns, shakily gathers his coat, his wallet and a bag, that he fills with a few clothes. He picks up his hat and slowly lurches out the door.

It closes with a quiet, definitive click.

-----

The twins are twenty years old and war has broken out once again.

The country is still raw from the last war. Buildings are still settling into their rebuilt frames and new brickwork to replace the ones that had lasted centuries, only to be blown to bits by falling bombs.

"I've been drafted," Evie breathed in his ear as they lay on next to each other on his ratty bed, listening to their neighbor's radio playing the latest patriotic tune hailing King and Country.

"...what?"

"Of a sort," she murmurs. "There was a woman at the library, a regular. It turns out she's been watching me for weeks. Said I make a good fit for British Intelligence." She smiles wryly. "Apparently the noble folk call it the 'Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare', so it's perfect for a woman."

Jacob laughs so hard he causes himself a coughing fit.

-----

Her being a woman is not the reason he stands in line at the draft office, clutching his papers. Evie can protect herself. But he can't stay in bed whilst there's the chance they send his other half (his better half, Evie would snark) somewhere that he can't follow.

They were meant to be side by side, forever. Poverty and sickness had never stopped them. The Frye Twins were indomitable together, be that scrapping up money or fighting whatever group of dog-kicking fools had earned Jacob's ire.

They deny him, of course. Even in a country seemingly determined to grab every warm body, they won't take his.

So he tries again. And again.

Evie knows of course. She doesn't approve. But she knows him like she knows herself and knows he needs this--she won't stop him.

-----

"Why do you try so hard to fight?" An old man with a German accent asks him after he's been scolded and threatened by yet another draft officer and been kicked out to the mocking chuckles and pitying looks of other, stronger men.

How can he explain the crushing fear of loneliness looming in the distance, the horror of a life of possible solitude when he's never been alone since conception? The fear that his twin may not come back, or worse, come back the same way their father did? The anger at his helplessness, the pride he feels for his sister, the longing for a destiny that he knows is greater than the one he forsees?

"Someone has to," is what he goes with instead.

The old man smiles.

-----

What Erkstine describes is fantastical, impossible, ridiculous and possibly deadly.

Jacob is immediately on board.

"This will hurt," Erkstine warns as they strap him into the coffin-like machine and eject him with pale blue chemicals.

-----

It really, really, really bloody hurts.

-----

He emerges a head taller than his twin and rippling with muscle. Men feel his chiseled chest and bulging biceps, murmuring to each other in awe.

She pushes her way to the front, ignoring caustic glares at her audacity. She clasps his arm and smirks mischievously. "Looks like you hit a growth spurt, brother."

His straightened and dazzling new teeth gleam in the spotlights of the lab. "Jealous, sister?"

"Hardly," she scoffs, trying to cover the glimmer of tears welling in her eyes at the sight of her healthy, happy alive sibling. "Muscles wither, dear brother, but I was still first."

"By four minutes! That doesn't even--"

Gunshots ring out.

-----

Erskine is dead, the formula to creating a thousand great knights is lost with him.

The higher-ups are furious. They debate his fate in front of him, acting as if he isn't even there. To him, he is a low-blood expensive pet project that they can never recreate. He has little to no formal training, comes from Whitechapel, of all places...he is socially worthless.

-----

On one hand, they give him a knighthood for his service to the Empire--Good job they seem to say. You didn't die the ethically dubious dangerous experiment in service to the country.

On the other hand, they dress him up in a cheap costume designed to look like a modern day knight, color it red, white and blue, and use him as a propaganda symbol. Sir Britain they call him, putting his cowled face on posters encouraging people to buy war bonds and sign up for service. He stars in commercials, gives pre-written speeches on the radio.

He hates it. He hates it even more when they fly him out near the front and have him pose with real troops, like his very presence will help fill empty stomachs and block bullets.

It's on one of these trips near occupied Poland that he hears more about the about the mysterious Hydra group, who murdered Erkstine, who controls the Nazis. He hears about whispers of another group that controls even them, one centuries old. He hears about how an entire regiment is captured by Nazis wielding futuristic, Asimov weapons.

He hears about the three ESO agents were with the regiment and how while one was found dead, the other two, a Polish man and an English woman, are missing, presumably captured.

He demands to know the woman's name, feeling the twisting in his gut that already knows. They hem and haw before they finally admit her identity.

Evie Frye.

-----

He doesn't know how to fly a plane.

Luckily, the angry Scottish mechanic, fired for having dared point out the head engineer was letting shoddy work go through, for speaking up despite being a woman, does.

"Names Agnes Macbean," she yells over the racket of the old two-seater's engine. "Ain't this a way to go out, eh? Sticking it to the Nazis!"

-----

It is embarrassingly easy to sneak into the Hydra base. He's so much faster and stronger than the average man now, and the brass knuckles certainly help.

Most of the men he finds imprisoned but Evie isn't with them.

Instead, he finds her in a lab straight out of a pulp novel, full of blinking lights and needles with strange chemicals.

(Nazis and military officers would say they decided to experiment with a version of the serum on her because it worked so well on Jacob, and genetically speaking, there was no one on earth as similar to him than his twin.

Jacob and the men who were imprisoned would say they used her first because it was she who rallied them into rousing chants of defiance, who, when backhanded by a sneering soldier, proceeded to blind him with her own spit blood, knee him in the groin, and headbutt him unconscious.)

She's only half-conscious when he pulls her from the chair, but she's still a crack shot and able to hold her own beside him as they fight through soldiers, elites, and a strange, powerful Hydra officer known only as Roth.

-----

Afterwards, the higher-ups give him training and his own elite squad. It's as much a punishment as it is a reward: he's no expert fighter, and his what he's allowed to pick isn't what's considered the cream of the crop.

To him, it's perfect.

He gets three ESO agents: Evie and two men: one, a Ned Wynert, is rumored to have run a corner of England's black market prior to the war breaking out. The other, Robert Topping is a fast-talking former bookie and carnie, with a penchant for ridiculous hats and getting through nearly any lock.

Agnes is brought on as the team's engineer and mother hen and she quickly gains some assistants in the form of former street urchins: a clumsy lad named Nigel and a sly, cunning young code-cracker named Clara.

They get a discharged soldier named Abberline, who is as honorable as he is resilient. A couple of brothers, Billy and Dennis Strum, children of Jamaican immigrants and expert riflemen. Durand Boucher, a beast of a Frenchman with delicate fingers and talent for explosions.

They're the diamonds in the rough, the unappreciated and overlooked. Some, jokingly, mockingly, call them the Knights of the Crooked Table.

Jacob Frye, Sir Britain himself, calls them his Rooks, to his sister's audible dismay.

Mission after mission, fight after fight, the Rooks succeed. Bases are raised, no-man lands taken. Sir Britain is a whirlwind on the battlegrounds, wielding pistols and knuckles, his arms covered in gauntlets made with a rare, unbreakable metal and painted with the flag of the Motherland. Evie is at his back, sometimes with her own pistol and throwing knives, other times crouched in a tree for days on end, guiding and clearing the way with her sniper rifle. Robert wears such bright clothing that he's practically invisible when he forgives them to sneak into enemy territory, Ned is able to self-talk and turn many a soldier with the promise of money for intelligence. Agnes can turn even military rations palatable, and hotwire Nazi trucks with a speed the belies her large frame. The brothers are crack shots at impossible distances, Durand, capable of turning nearly anything into a bomb. Abberline is a long-suffering sort who gets along swell with Evie, and has a poorly hidden soft-spot for Clara and Nigel.

They are an unstoppable team.

But Hydra grows ever more powerful. A man by the name Red Skull looms like a spector, guiding the war like one would a chess match. The elites of Nazi appear with incredible armor and weapon that are difficult to defeat, nearly impossible to reverse engineer, and glow an insidious gold.

Jacob is grim, but he isn't worried. He has his team, he has his fists. He has his twin. Everything else can be overcome.

-----

And then...there's the train.

The Hydra weapons. The elite soldiers guarding the dangerous cargo. Him nearly getting killed, only to be saved as Evie fires with unerring accuracy.

The golden beam nearly tearing the train in two, the force sending his sister tumbling out.

Trying to reach for her, straining as she dangles from the side of the train over the mountain pass--

The snap as the bar gives way.

And the sight of his sister, his twin, his other half, tumbling like an errant leaf into the snow, hundreds of feet below, becoming nothing more than a black dot, then disappearing altogether, like she never existed.

He doesn't remember if he screamed her name. He probably did.

(Honestly, he had probably stood there gaping in horror instead of doing something, instead of lunging after her, following after like he'd done all their lives. Like he should have done. Like it was supposed to be.

He thinks this because there are many moments where he should have said something, where he wants to scream...and doesn't, too overwhelmed, too broken:

The first time he woke up in a new century, taken from his frozen coffin by a mysterious Brotherhood.

The first time he realizes that everyone he knows is dead.

The time when he goes to the British History Museum and discovers monuments and exhibits to him...and only him. His friends, his family, his Rooks, his sister...regulated to footnotes.

And of course the moment that he fights a deadly assassin on a rooftop in the dead of night, one who killed a member of the Brotherhood he will call his own. An assassin just as strong and as fast as he. An assassin who goes by many monikers the world over, the bogeywoman of the Creed:

The Creed Killer. The Winter Huntress.

Well, no. That's a lie. He does say something.

In that moment where he fights this impossibly skilled assassin of assassins, when he struggles against the strength and tricks contained within her left, silver arm. When he knocks her mask off, and the face looking back at his is achingly familiar and as improbably young as his own, covered in a legion of freckles and holding artic blue eyes in a too blank face.

He does speak then.

"...Evie?"

"...who on earth is Evie?")

-----

The eventual battle with Roth, with Red Skull is a blur. He fights with that same raging fury in his heart, but he still feels...empty. Cold. Even seeing Roth try to harness the power of the mysterious golden artifact, only for it to overwhelm him and wreath him in ethereal flames draws only a grim satisfaction from him.

It's when he is behind the controls of the futuristic plane holding legions of bombs capable of turning all of America to ash that his thoughts crystallize with abrupt clarity.

One Frye died to the cold and ice. It's only fitting that the other should as well.

Or blazing fire, should the bombs go off on impact.

Either way, he'll be going home.

The water rushes in, the cabin shudders and he welcomes the piercing darkness with a smile on his face.

[primasveraas]

The Hunger Games has genuine literary merit beyond the fandom reactions to it

Arguably, it was one of the most influential franchises of the 2010s. However, it suffers from being both extraordinarily overrated and criminally underrated when closely examined. It was a conversation in my Literature class that led me to wonder: does this series truly have literary merit? The question became inescapable as I was swept up in thought and nostalgia, and the deeper messages of the series are indeed clear to me upon revisiting the beloved childhood saga. 

The response to the films and even the books themselves reveal that Suzanne Collins’s critique of current society was right all along. The real merit of The Hunger Games series is painfully overshadowed by the elements that “sell well” within mainstream media. Because The Hunger Games is a story that features popular cinematic elements such as violence and romance, including a classic love triangle (see the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Twilight, Star Wars, Mission Impossible, Divergent, etc, etc), the series is devalued from its real message. The fans of the series place little value with any deeper meaning, and it is therefore lost to the menial focuses of the general public.

To begin, the focus of the book begins with the concept of the Hunger Games, wherein children are pitted against one another in a fight to the death. While this is portrayed in the books, the cinematic approach further visualizes the violence that is apparently so entertaining to audiences. Where scenes that give greater meaning to the series are not included or inaccurately shown, the theme of violence and gore is left to rise. Unfortunately, this undermines Collins's commentary on the prevalence and glorification of violence within our society, including in popular media and the news, especially when it comes to the normalization of such horrific acts such as the deaths of children, murder, and war itself. When these events become political fodder or are reduced to headlines, they lose their significance and real meaning: people are suffering and something must be done about the matter.

long post below the cut. I wrote this as a full essay rip

Furthermore, the series also satirizes the upper class and those with enough privilege to turn a blind eye to the suffering of those with not enough luck or initial privilege in their life to absolve themselves from danger, violence, and poverty. The Capitol is a society of wealthy people and the main audience for the games, yet they do not have to send children them to themselves. This isolated, secure part of an impoverished, divided nation, represents how, in our society, the wealthy and powerful take advantage of the lower classes through the exploitation of workers, unfair tax cuts and overall societal imbalances that systematically keep minorities at a disadvantage. While the 1% profits off of suffering, the rest of the world is left to suffer.

  It must also be addressed that most of the symbolism in the series, at least the books, is subtle and only hinted at by Katniss. Why these messages were not revealed even after the movies were released can be attributed to Suzanne Collins’s silence on her own series. With each cinematic release comes press tours and interviews about the meaning of the books and movies, but Collins notably has largely remained silent on the matter. In today's society, it is not uncommon to see authors such as JK Rowling, EK Johnston, Rick Riordan, and more take to Twitter, Instagram, or other websites to elaborate on the messages within their books and clarify what they meant, even retroactively adding to the meanings and characters featured within the books. But this neglects the death of the author, wherein readers are allowed to form their own opinion, regardless of the author’s intentions. The post-publishing contributions to a finished work can be done for profit or maintaining fan interest beyond the completion of their series. Yet, not letting their work exist as its own product, up for reader interpretation, devalues their work. Collins’s refusal to participate in this culture is admirable. Her words are placed in the hands of readers, continuing the legacy that existed for thousands of years before Twitter was invented. 

Even so, the pitfalls of this are her target audience of young adults, who often fail to understand the real messages embedded within the work. The literary analysis above is, unfortunately, necessary to prove the symbolism within the series because society instead chooses to focus on the elements of romance and violence present within the series. As a result, Collins's genius is truly underappreciated. Her writing and the literary merit therein flies over the heads of her readers. Again, the true value of the series has been lost in the glorification of violence and romance. Collins herself is arguably not advocating for these values; it was only by accident that her books became so popular for the wrong reason. Her other series are relatively unheard of but just as profound. The Underland Chronicles possess the same poignancy and significance as The Hunger Games, but its subject content is considered too outlandish by society to be thrust rapidly to the same heights as the latter.

Even so, the generalized reaction to The Hunger Games movies and books prove this point. The first of the series is the most popular and by general consensus, the most interesting. The following two books, especially the conclusion of the series, are considered to be boring. Yet this is the point. Mockingjay, the final book in the trilogy, depicts the dangers of war and the society that has been allowed to evolve from the ashes of a long-past conflict. The country erupts into civil war, but audiences consider this to be boring because of the emphasis on battle strategy, power struggle, and Katniss’s mental health, rather than outright violence and romance. And still, it is these ideas that contain the most literary value. These points, which I will elaborate on later, are superficially less interesting than the elements of a love triangle and kid-on-kid murder but must be acknowledged to find the true value of the series.

Even Collins’s portrayal of romance within the series subverts the expectation of modern love. The stereotypical gender roles between Katniss and Peeta are flipped. Where Katniss is tough, coarse and even unfriendly, Peeta is likable, charming, and charismatic. Katniss, especially in the first book, is seen taking care of Peeta who repeatedly gets injured; she is his protector while he is frequently criticized for his softness as a character. Yet in the end, Katniss chooses Peeta for his gentle nature and care; these are the qualities that she needs to balance out her own anger and roughness. She loves him for “feminine qualities” because she seeks a true balance of her own personality. Peeta is one of the few characters who remain uncorrupted and pure even with the horrors of their society. Few acknowledge this; the debate over Katniss’s romantic life is reduced to a love triangle between the baker boy and childhood friend. But in Collins’s own words, “Katniss isn’t just deciding on a partner; she’s figuring out her worldview.” The books do not portray a simplistic love triangle. It is the choice between optimism and a surrender to violence.

Katniss herself is unwilling to participate in violence and the idealization of murder unless it comes down to the survival of her family. Katniss’s defining qualities are her loyalty and love, rather than blatant heroism and the want to make change in the world. Unfriendly and hardened, she is static in remaining a fierce defender of her family. Again, this is purely realistic considering the hardships of her childhood. As a result, she is forced to act differently as a popular idol for both the Capitol and the rebels. Whenever she appears as a figurehead, she softens her personality to be likable and charismatic. The Capitol wants to see that she is still feminine, lovely, and unharmed by her upbringing in the districts. The threats against her family still motivate her; if she does not perform well, everyone she cares about will be killed. It is only when she has nothing else to lose that she acts out in rebellion. At the climax of The Hunger Games, she suggests to Peeta that they both kill themselves instead of killing each other. As one of two tributes left, she cannot bring herself to kill him, as her humanity defines her in that moment. Over the course of the games, she comes to care for Peeta, and she refuses to sacrifice that humanity, even if it means that she can go home to her family. Her next move beings a continuing trend; when she does not have the option to protect her family, she acts out in rebellion against the Capitol. She or Peeta will die in an act of defiance. By trying to kill herself and Peeta, she shows her true genius. If all tributes die or if more than one live, the Capitol loses, and she forces their hand on this matter. This moment displays her true, underrated intellect. 

Thus also begins the battle for control against the Capitol. As the series progresses, Katniss combats the urge to do the right thing for the greater good of Panem. In District 11, she tries to make up for the losses of their tributes by donating money and speaking from her heart about those who saved her life. But in the end, she is forced again into silence by the threat against her family. She will not compromise their safety even for a rebellion that could potentially liberate the country. Although she has inherent goodness, Katniss is the ultimate reluctant hero. In her own words, “all I want to do is protect my sister.” Unlike most heroes, she does not fight for the greater good, but for the protection of those who she cares about. Also unlike the archetypal hero, she is constantly restricted by her own inhibitions about what she personally has to lose. While this subverts expectations, it also emphasizes her humanity. Despite her cultural reputation as the girl with the bow and arrow, Katniss is a tangible character with real fears and doubts. 

Also, the symbolism of the loss of innocence is degraded because the series so popular for its violence and romance culminates in a book that emphasizes other points and uses action and love sparingly. They no longer have great narrative significance, meaning that the mass commercialization of the book became harder and its subject less interesting to consumers.

Other themes in Mockingjay display the corruptive nature of violence and power. Alma Coin, the president of the rebellion, rises to power as a direct result of extreme violence and brutal tactics. Even without her final act of bombing children, her true leadership is the result of violence, bloodshed, and long-standing war. Her presence suggests that violence breeds violence, even with good intentions. Because Coin is forced to wage war, as there is no other way to overcome the current circumstances of the country, war and violence become her expertise. The longevity of war implies that once the mindset of violence is adopted, it can never fully be washed away. While Coin has good intentions, she eventually becomes violent and even senselessly cruel.

This is further demonstrated in the scene, when after the war is won, she suggests that they hold a symbolic Hunger Games using the children of the capitol. This is an act of revenge to emphasize that the Capitol no longer has power. However, Coin continues the same vile methods of control, propagating the cycle of violence and bloodshed within the country. Katniss is one of the few people who recognize this; she is consequently the only one left to act on this knowledge. When asked to vote whether or not to hold the games, Katniss decides two things. The first is to vote yes, and in doing so, she recognizes that she has been used as a pawn by both Coin and President Snow, who need a figurehead to maintain power. She is intelligent enough to comprehend her powerlessness, and at that moment, resolves to do something about it. During the scene, she is depicted as having an almost silent conversation with Haymitch, in which they both agree to comply with Coin because they cannot currently do anything about their circumstances. Haymitch says “I’m with the Mockingjay,” signaling to Katniss that he understands the reality of the moment and will support her temporary compliance and future resistance. Katniss's intelligence is truly revealed with this scene, although most interpret her decision as her want for revenge. In reality, she has decided to kill Coin and effectively break the cycle of violence within the country.

When Katniss finally has the opportunity to kill Snow, she instead aims for and kills Coin. It’s never explicitly explained why, but it still reveals Katniss’s true perception of society. This gives her true power, with the responsibility to take action. It can also be noted that at this point, she has lost her sister and feels as if she has little else to lose in her life. She is no longer motivated by love for her family; now, she has nothing left to lose and this makes her all the more powerful. She knows that killing the new president and leader of the rebellion that brought them to victory and “liberation” is a fatal action, but when she does so, she damns only herself. She is free in the sense that no one can be used against her anymore.

Even so, when she is arrested for the murder of the new president, Katniss’s struggle with mental health is further emphasized as she rejects her medication and treatment, starves herself, and saves up her medicine in the hopes of overdosing and killing herself. She has nothing left to live for. She is described as inhuman and miserable, yet, almost abruptly, a change occurs. Katniss chooses hope. She begins to sing, experiencing untempered joy. It is random and it is beautiful. Those who struggle with mental health know that hope is not simply achieved; it can become a choice. Those with good resources can find hope more readily, but at the lowest point in one's life, there remains a decision to fight for change and the betterment of one's life. Katniss is forced to reconcile if she wants to remain living and succeed, despite any struggle that lies ahead in trying to get better. For no particular reason, she chooses to continue fighting and this is what makes her a true hero. She has lost her sister and her family and any chance at a normal, peaceful life. By killing Coin, she has ruined her reputation and prospects, yet she continues to live, and as a result, she ultimately achieves the life she had been seeking from the beginning. She is free, she can choose peace. From the beginning of the series, Katniss emphasizes that she never wanted a life in the public eye, and now with most of society failing to understand her action and rationale, she can escape. She never sought glory nor fame, and she pursues peace. This is the ultimate loss of the Capitol: the one who stood against them, who fell prey to them, who fought in their games not once but twice, choose hope and calm demonstrates the true beauty of Katniss as a protagonist. It is her simplistic wish to hang up her bow and arrow and go home that sets her apart.

At the beginning of the novels, Katniss says that she will never have a family because she does not wish to bring children into such a corrupt world. Modern circumstances including climate change, the current state of global politics, and general abject hopelessness parallel this feeling in our own world. But after overcoming this in her own universe, Katniss achieves true happiness. At the end of the novel, she has two children. At first, this may seem out of character or included merely because it is the stereotypical happy ending in media, but this is what truly emphasizes how far Katniss has come and the security that she has made for herself. With her intelligence and bravery, she has remade society into someplace where she is comfortable enough to have children, to raise them and settle down with the man she loves. Again, her choosing Peeta represents how she no longer has to give in to the roughness of her personality to defend those she cares about. She can be gentle and kind as she never was before. She can be a mother and pursue her own definition of happiness. Suzanne Collins's decisions as an author mean that there will be no sequels or spin-offs, no midnight Tweets to corrupt this joy. Most of all, Katniss’s solitude in this journey depicts the uniqueness of such intelligence and clear perception. Because she was the one with enough clarity to see the corruption and violence of the country, she has the power to remake it in her own image. This elevates her beyond a typical protagonist, and beyond the simplistic interpretations of teenage fans.

It is impossible to realize these things and not wonder what Suzanne Collins thinks of what has become of her series. With its influence severely devalued, such a great critique on humanity and all its complexity is lost. Ironically, the society that Collins was criticizing failed to understand her true message. The importance of these ideas cannot be stressed enough: we live in a society where there are daily power struggles between classes, and consumerism is controlled by monopolies of major companies. Not only that, but Katniss is reduced to a girl in love who is good at archery. And in the movies, she is played by Jennifer Lawrence, who dropped out of middle school and has repeatedly come under fire for offensive comments. Collins’s intelligence and that of her main character are criminally underrated. The public reception to The Hunger Games severely devalues the complexity of the series. Elements of violence and romance take place of deep symbolism and criticism of our world; movies are made to be entertaining and sell well rather than represent a good story. One can only hope that is the love of a beloved childhood series that will lead to them being revisited to reveal these truths with more meaningful clarity. 

[descientia]

On Faith & Prophecy —

Firstly, because I have been asked before, and because it is somewhat of an unpopular decision: I do abide by the events of Episode Ignis’s main verse and factor this into my portrayal of Ignis rather than headcanoning it out. That is to say, Ignis learned about the prophecy and Noctis’s required death from a dying Pryna, which for recap’s sake was this:

A power greater than even that of the Six, purifying all by the Light of the Crystal and the glaives of rulers past. Only at the throne can the Chosen receive it, and only at the cost of a life: his own. The King of Kings shall be granted the power to banish the darkness, but the blood price must be paid. To cast out the Usurper and usher in dawn’s light will cost the life of the Chosen. Many sacrificed all for the King; so must the King sacrifice himself for all. Now enter into Reflection, that the light of Providence shine within.

He also saw visions of pertinent future moments, such as Noctis killing himself on the throne ( cutscene here ).

Prior to this revelation, Ignis was only aware of as much of the prophecy as Noct and most people were: In a time of great need, the Oracle would help the Chosen King to claim the power of the Crystal and save the world from darkness. He did not know that Noct’s death was part of the deal, and fwiw I don’t think anyone but Regis and probably Lunafreya did.

Ignis also didn’t immediately accept Pryna’s vision as truth, and when he battles Ravus and argues about Luna’s sacrifice, he still stands by the prophecy as he has known it to be. As they watch Lunafreya’s spirit leave her body, it hits Ignis that Noctis might be subjected to the same fate by the same prophecy, and he begins to view this all with new perspective. The battle with Ardyn in which Ignis loses his sight happens quickly after that, but he has further time to reflect upon all of this during his recovery ( and Noctis’s subsequent recovery ).

When Ignis suggests to Noctis that they cease their journey, it isn’t because he hopes Noctis will actually agree and give up at Ignis’s suggestion. ( I’ve read compelling arguments questioning Ignis’s decision to not disclose the full implications of the prophecy to Noctis, and calling into question Ignis’s denial of Noctis’s agency in making this decision— which would be fairly valid if Ignis was expecting to Noctis to make a decision that would be better made fully informed, but I have never viewed this scene in this way, even before playing Episode Ignis and learning the full context of it. ) Rather, he is testing Noctis’s resolve to push forward at a time when Noctis might be tempted to give up due to the losses already incurred. Ignis is playing devil’s advocate in this scene, suggesting that it’s okay to quit now in order to help Noctis himself realize he finds that idea abhorrent, as opposed to telling Noctis that he has to push onward when he doesn’t want to ( as it could be said Gladio is doing in the train scene; this is a prime example of the different approaches of Gladio and Ignis, and I’d argue a prime example of how much better Ignis knows Noctis and his emotional needs than Gladio does ).

His decision to not tell Noctis about the full consequences of the prophecy is because he believes there is no stopping Noctis from what he has already decided to do, and Noctis’s impassioned conviction that the sacrifices of others made on his behalf must be honored by his own fulfillment of the very role they have sacrificed in order for him to perform convinces Ignis that Noctis does not want to be swayed from his course. If he tells Noctis that fulfilling his role as the Chosen King will mean his own death, then Noctis might be too afraid to continue and resent himself for it. Or, even if he continues, he would then need to do so with the knowledge of his impending death looming over him. Ignis makes a decision not unlike Regis’s decision to withhold his son’s fate from him in order to maximize his enjoyment of life in the meanwhile. It could be argued that this is presumptuous of Ignis ( and, for that matter, of Regis ), but all of his decisions are made based upon what he believes is best for Noctis.

( Even more under the cut ! )

Ignis also tells no one else of the nature of the prophecy until after Noctis is in the Crystal. After that, he keeps it to himself for a short while ( so that the others do not have to bear that burden as well ), but does eventually share what he knows with Gladio, Prompto, and other relevant parties.

Ignis does not know about Ardyn’s true identity before the others learn it, as that was only revealed in the AU ending of Episode Ignis ( which I only honor in my specific verse for it ), nor the additional reveals from Lunafreya about the ring and the Crystal. It might also be worth mentioning that while the AU ending alone is where Ignis says things like “ I don’t want to die without him ” and “ this world means nothing to me without Noctis ” and a host of other things that sound a lot like his feelings for Noctis go beyond leige and retainer, I do write him as though these feelings are present even in my main verse; he just never had that opportunity to voice them.

On the topic of Ignis’s religious faith ( and oops I drifted pretty far from my original goals of tying these two things together ): he, as well as the royal family and most of Lucis, observes the faith of the Six. For Ignis’s part, this is more or less a nominal observance of faith, as they do live in a world in which gods have a tangible and empirically observed presence and he of course respects these powerful Astrals, but he is far from devout as far as paying them actual, spiritual worship goes.

When Ignis learns of the full extent of the prophecy ( and comes to believe it ), his regard for the gods is worsened considerably. Indeed, he comes to resent and perhaps even hate them, for he perceives the gods as being the ones to cruelly demand Noctis’s life in exchange for world salvation. ( Whether or not this is true or the gods are simply the messengers and perhaps arbiters of a truism that is out of even their control, even I am unclear. ) In Ignis’s perception, they could rule differently but choose not to, and even if that is not the case, they have long been playing a game with divine forces in which humanity ( and particularly Noctis ) are their pawns. Ignis cannot abide by this, and refuses to pay them ( even nominal ) worship any longer.

His worldview does become ( pardon the unavoidable pun ) darker as a result of this, and it would not be unreasonable for others to assume that Ignis’s newfound bitterness and resentment of the gods are in response to his blindness rather than in response to Noctis’s fate ( especially before they know of Noctis’s fate ). The truth of it, though, is that while he is of course frustrated by his blindness and the extreme difficulty that is now posed in performing even basic tasks, he does not resent his blindness, as it was a sacrifice that he willingly made to save Noctis’s life ( even if only for a short time ), and would unflinchingly make the same choice again. ( Mind you, he does not know how things may have gone differently in alternate universes. )

Ignis spends the ten years of darkness attempting to find a way around the prophecy, acting directly in defiance of the gods and their decree. His primary lead is within the Tombs of the Kings, which he explores at first perhaps with Gladio and/or Prompto, perhaps with Umbra, perhaps with other friends and allies such as Aranea, and later ( when the boy is old enough ) with Talcott. They are looking for inscriptions regarding the prophecy written in Old Lucian, a dead language that Ignis is now ( with so many having been killed in the Fall of Insomnia and now the Starscourge ) the last person able to translate. Unfortunately, as Ignis cannot see, he is unable to do so, and attempts to teach Talcott the language. Talcott is an admirable student, Ignis is an admirable teacher, but his blindness and the time constraints prove to be too much, and they are not able to find any way to avert the prophecy before Noctis returns.

In the alternate verse in which he does not lose his sight, Ignis is able to translate these documents directly and they do find some sort of loophole disclosed therein. Tragically, then, it is his blindness that renders him unable to save Noctis in the end.

[theissuesthatmatter76]

"The anti-discrimination discrimination argument”

First of all I want to get a few things out of the way..I’m not an idiot... Ok now here’s the deal...

“Black people are disproportionately the targets of police brutality and systemic racism”

Let's get one thing straight. This isn't a "hard question" People who say that are giving credibility to the deceit and half truth of it. It's a derailer statement followed by a false conclusion portrayed as fact. The falsely portrayed fact being that our country is full of systemic racism and racist police who, according to the Democrat party, make it dangerous for any black person to leave their house.

A lot of black lives matter tools will throw around the terms "disproportionate black death's by police" followed by "systemic racism" and despite the fact that you know that the picture of systemic racism is greatly over-exaggerated and that the "why" of disporportionate black deaths is a complex answer which you could spend hours on, debating all of the reasons behind that being true...and all the reasons why it doesn't make black people the only ones deserving justice.

 In our country EVERY life matters, not just black people who commit a disproportionately larger amount of violent crimes and cop killings. Every unjust death, unfair target and victim of excessive force matters...(of which I am one too, luckily, i lived to tell the tale!)..lol Just kidding! not the unjust death just the excessive force part...(hey just smack me in the head I am kind of a smartass sometimes!)

I blame the disproportionate amount of blacks killed by police on 2 things.1- The disproportionate amount of violent crimes perpetrated by the African American community and 2- on a more defiant attitude towards police than any other demographic, which has been on full display in the last few months. In my own personal experience I have been a victim of mostly black perpetrated crimes. I have never bullied or attacked or ratted out a black person in my entire life and I never will... Second is the attitude bullying defiant belligerent..a lack of respect in general..confrontational and hostile..pack.. gang mentality... which is essentially what black lives matter is..one big black power gang. They promote an attitude of blaming police and white supremacy for systemic racism, life destroying discrimination and for racistly targeting them for more police brutality than others all the while ACTUALLY ruining the lives of anyone who would dare speak out against their movement by making statements like "All Lives Matter". Well despite being a disproportionately small percentage of the population blacks also just happen to commit a disproportionately large share of cop killings..They commit disproportionately larger amounts of all violent crimes for their population than any other race. This coupled with a fostered greater cultural attitude of defiance and hostility towards the police lead to more police brutality incidents and murders. The truth of the matter is that attitude of non compliance and defiance of the police rooted in a greater failure to show any respect to police escalates sitautions like gasoline thrown on a fire when you combine it with an equally flawed police authoritarian "obey me" attitude. Black lives matter tells people who are defiant towards police that they are right to be..What society essentially did is act as an enabler to all black people who are hostile towards police and breed an entire generation of and recruit many many more to cophaters and white people haters..The attitudes towards police will certainly persist through any changes in police protocol to prevent brutality. So by making it about racism instead of about police brutality..we have taken the demographic who are the biggest part of the problem attitude wise and enabled them to be even more defiant and hostile..it won't end with good legislation..like the coronavirus this may be the new hellish normal in our country.This is why it makes me angry when people go around crying "disproportionate deaths...systemic racism..racist police" It creates an entitled beligerence that won't soon cease to color future interactions between law enforcement and african americans. By failing to define the problem as having two parties to blame. You have enabled the bad acting of one while expecting the other to exercise even more restraint and be the sole one held responsible by society. This ironically is a lot like another large group that experience disproportionate amounts of death among the white population. Mental health diagnosed people. The credible abuser blames the mental health diagnosed person, has them committed without a fair trial..forces them to be on drugs and then continues their abusive treatment of the mental health patient which has essentially been enabled by the psychiatric community. There are two sides to every story and a wise man knows that where there is a problem often both parties share the blame and both parties need to change to properly resovle the situation. That is what needs to happen with police and african american people. Both sides need to make changes.

Shockingly  HALF of police shootings involve people with mental illness! The difference in risk comparing mentally ill white to other whites is greater than the difference in risk between whites nad blacks! Many times wellness checks are called on these people and are not handled properly by police who only escalate the situation. There needs to be changes in protocol and involvement of actual mental health advocates on the scene. Police not only don't know how to handle people like this. They almost always escalate the situation. Remember this slogan...We always have more time to save a life...How many lives would be saved by slowing crisis situations down? Incorporating mental health people and a mental health advocate for the person as a first line communication and police only as a back up in dangerous scenarios.

https://psychcentral.com/blog/half-of-police-shootings-involve-people-with-mental-illness/

https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/black-police-officers-likely-kill-black-people/

We have data on a total of 2,699 fatal police killings for the years 2013 to 2015. This is 1,333 more killings by police than is provided by the FBI data on justifiable police homicides. When either the violent crime rate or the demographics of a city are accounted for, we find that white police officers are not significantly more likely to kill a black suspect. For the estimates where we know the race of the officer who killed the suspect, the ratio of the rate that blacks are killed by black versus white officers is large — ranging from 3 to 5 times larger. However, because the media may under report the officer’s race when black officers are involved, other results that account for the fact that a disproportionate number of the unknown race officers may be more reliable.

Bottom line with this is..how can you claim systemic racism by police when black police kill black people as often or more often than white people?!!! Another fun fact...more police officer are killed by blacks than black people are killed by police...Of course you aren't going to see a worldwide outrage over their death. After all they're only police officers who risk their lives to keep the country safe. In all likelihood these officers who are killed are not the type of bad actor police BLM movement is making the general case against (and neither are 90% of the officers involved in the high profile cases in the media today). The truth is that in cases like Jacob Blake the victim was not being profiled or targeted racistly and it was the black girlfriend allegedly being sexually assaulted who called the police after which the police treated Blake no different than a white man. The excessive amount of times he shot him was yes extremely out of line and not even 1% motivated by the cop being “racist” The cop who choked George Floyd did not do it because he had racist anger at Floyd! He was just a bad cop. Another common denominator in all these incidents is the suspect trying to taze, shoot or possibly stab the police.

The sad fact is that they are propogating an untrue narrative about these incidents and politicizing these poor people's deaths. I mean seriously! Were the officers that killed George Floyd flashing clan signs? Did the officer have any history at all of white supremacist ties? How is George Robinson's death any less important than George Floyd's? I'll tell you how..he doesnt support their sick politicizing of tragedy. The party that supports their reverse racism movement not too ironically just had a nomination event full of the same politicizing tragedy tactics.

https://thegrio.com/2020/08/16/mississippi-police-officers-charged-for-murder/

[jojuarez26]

We found love in a hopeless place part 3

Divergent fanfiction: Eric/OC

Mature content and strong language

I do not own any Part of Divergent

@pathybo @tigpooh67 @beautifulramblingbrains @clublulu333 @frecklefaceb @lunaschild2016 @jaihardy @captstefanbrandt @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @sparklemichele @ericdauntless @ariwolff14 @badassbaker @mom2reesie @readsalot73 @dani5102 @scorpio2009 @kenzieam @emmysrandomthoughts

I sat in utter disgust horror and blind rage as Max told me the story of the sins of a husband, father, brother and son. It took every last bit of self restraint I had to not load my unregistered, non-service pistol and marching to Candor and sending those sick son of bitches straight to the depths of hell.

However it took an even greater strength to not obliterate half of a factions for allowing the continued blind devotion to corupt morales and truly vile, disgusting human beings.

So hard in fact I picked up the phone to give Jack Kang a rather large and nasty piece of my mind. It took Max physically man handling the phone away from me and threatening to make me factionless, to stop me.

I was actually fully prepared to deal with the repercussions of my actions until he made me see that it would be better to serve a scorching hot justice that will change society as opposed to a cold justice that changes nothing.

To add insult to injury on a rather emotionally taxing day I received the first solid, concrete evidence to my personal investigation.

I am relieved that I do somewhat hold to the belief that patients is a virtue. I want one hundred percent proof of the treacherous bitches betrayal, lies, extortion and fuckery of other people's lives.

When I did have it all, she will wish she was dead when I am done with her. Brutal, cruel and life devastating revenge is after all my speciality.

It was getting late and I was starting to come close to refusing to have a rational mind and sound judgement. So I shut it all done for the day and headed for the mess hall.

The entire faction became infinitely more silently than normal when I made my entrance. You could've heard a pin drop in the faction known for and synonymous for it's loud, rowdy and over the top way of life.

Every set of eyes where on me as I marched to the chow line. Normally it gets ridiculous quiet for a moment or two and the faction carries on with business as usual.

Not this time. I seen a display of every emotion from pride, loathing, fear, curiosity and every fucking thing in between.

What.the.fuck? Have they all finally gone brain dead from their ignorance and taking one too many blows to the head.

"What in the hell are all you obnoxious, dumb fucks looking at!" I roared letting my murderous gaze scan the large room. My hand crept to the weapon holstered on my hip.

A strong large hand came down on my shoulder.

"Eric, don't." Max commanded in a deadly tone

Max turned and addressed our temporarily brain damaged faction

"I don't know what is causing all you idiots to have a temporary brain malfunction, but if you don't all go back to minding your own boring, sorry excuse business, I will fine every idiot in the entire faction seventy- five points for insubordination."

The cafeteria instantly roared back to life. I turned with a deadly expression demanding immediate explanation. Max's eyes and body language gave nothing away

"Not now. Grab two trays and go enjoy a peacefully meal with Samantha. That's an order not a request soldier," he said with a solemn look on his face.

Begrudgingly I nodded and followed my commanding officers orders. I still felt uneasy as the weight of my factions stares and whispers started to bore holes in my self control. Never in my entire life have I felt so unnerved by other people's thoughts or opinions of me. But this, this felt different. This felt like a conspiracy theory and I was the guest of honour. Quickly I grabbed two trays and stormed off in the direction of the infirmary.

I was thankful that most of my anger had faded by the time I arrived at my destination. Samantha didn't need or deserve the side affects of my frequent paranoia or the hostility I carried around like a child does their favorite toy.

I stood in the doorway examining her features with my Erudite curiosity on full display. Usually I fought and controlled my ingrained tendencies of my former faction. Not today, not in this moment. I indulged in a deserved moment of giving into my natural urges.

Her dark hair was splayed out on the pillow like a halo. I took in her soft feminine features and reveled in her simple beauty.

I knew instantly why she had never caught my attention in the past. She carried herself in a manner that manifested as forgettable or unremarkable to keep unwanted attention at bay. However, once she did catch your attention is was quickly realized she was anything but unremarkable.

She had been twitching restlessly since before my observations started at the door.

By midday with the lowering of anxiety meds and meds to help ease symptoms of withdraw she had become agitated and aggressive

Samantha had tried to check herself out and attempted to engage in potentially physically harmful behavior.

Right now she looked sad and terribly small. As if she felt my eyes on her she had started to stir. Her eyes flung open with fear and confusion.

When her gaze landed on me you could visibly see her relax and recognition of her surroundings. A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips.

Her eyes brightened as I slowly approached her. She tried to hide the excitement building in her eyes as she became aware of my presence. I set the trays of food down and stood next to her. Slowly and carefully I reached out for her hand.

"You came back," she said quietly with surprise in her eyes and gratitude in her voice.

"Of course I did. If nothing else I am a man of my word."

I used my thumb to draw small circles on the back of her hand as a small sign of reassurance.

" I never got a chance to thank you for last night."

She lowered her eyes and turned her head. I can see embarrassment and shame slowly start to settle in her eye

"Sam. Samantha please look at me," I gentle squeezed her hand. I tried to use a calm soothing yet serious tone.

As stubborn as she was Sam thought closing her eyes in defiance would really get her somewhere. My lips quirked up slightly and I laughed to myself in my head. Cute. She must have forgotten who Eric the leader of Dauntless was.

"Samantha that was an order not a request," I stated in a flat tone.

With a small sigh and an irritated huff as a last little act of defiance, she blinked her eyes several times before finally meeting mine.

A sea of stormy emotions raged in two beautiful deep emerald eyes. I could see she was trying to slam a brick wall into place preparing for disappointment and rejection. After years of being let down and brutal rejection she was terrified to even hope someone might actually give a shit if she lived or died.

I ran my hand down her cheek before gently gripping her chin to keep her head up and eyes on me.

"Samantha do not ever thank me again for my support, kindness, lended strength or otherwise do you understand me. When I said you would never be alone again I meant it. Do you understand me."

"Eric, I won't hold you to a promise you made to a lunatic girl while in the heat of the crazy moment of trying to save her ridiculously weak minded self."

She tried desperately but unsuccessfully to turn her head away from me, settling on just closing her eyes when she realized her attempts where in vein. I gave her a brief moment to gather her composure before I spoke again.

"Are you done wallowing in your self inflicted pity party?" I asked sternly.

Her eyes snapped open anger slowly replacing sadness and defeat

"Good. Now you listen and you listen very carefully. I will only tell you this once and I will not repeat myself. Do you understand me?" I stared intently and demandingly in her eyes.

When I seen I had her undivided attention and complete understanding I continued.

"When I looked into your eyes for the first time last night I seen a lonely, broken girl desperately hoping that somebody, anybody would give a damn if she lived or died."

The tears where welling in her eyes and I suddenly had to pause. My chest started to feel like it was caving in on itself. My instincts where screaming at me to shut down and not reveal anymore of myself to this stranger.

I began a silent war in my head. My conscious, something I thought I had long since killed and buried, was begging me to keep going, let it all out. Learn to trust again it said. However the side of myself that protects itself and had long since built a wall around itself, was all but putting a deadly choke hold on my tongue forbidding me to utter the words stuck on the tip of my tongue.

I looked back into Samantha's eyes and seen doubt and self depreciation clouding those beautiful emerald eyes. Fuck it. I'm Eric fucking Coulter, no one is ever going to hurt me. I forced myself to continue.

"I will be nothing but honest with you. I am a cruel, selfish bastard who generally doesn't or won't give two fucks about someone else," the tears started to gather in her eyes.

"But for some reason the universe has a different plan when it comes to you." Now confusion.

"I give a damn about you. I have no idea why, but I do. I will never leave you alone again. Don't be mistaken, I do not promise to be nice, I'm not. I don't promise to be sweet, considerate, to put your feelings before my own or any of that shit. I'm just not that person." I felt a weight lifting off my chest as I continued speak.

"What I do promise is to never leave you alone, protect you from everyone, including yourself. I will demand for you to be strong, brave, loyal and honest and accept nothing less than one hundred and twenty percent. But, I will never let you fall."

The tears that had been gathering in her eyes finally released themselves and slid down her cheeks. She sat up and threw her arms around my neck in an iron grip. I stiffened at the initial contact. Not a person who usually wants to give or receive physical contact other than purely sexual. Viewing at as to personal and intimate.

But something strange shifted inside of me while Samantha clung to me as if her life depends on it. Without my permission my body reacted against my will. My arms wrapped around her and held on tight. My desire to keep her safe and feel cared for overriding my self preservative instinct to not let anyone get to close.

Slowly I let her go and leaned back to look at her. The sheer power of raw emotion on display in her eyes was too much. The fear of someone actually evoking enough emotions in me to have the power or capabilities to hurt me was suddenly entirely too much.

I abruptly stood up off the bed like her touch just set me on fire. Sam's eyes went wide.

"Remeber. I told you I am not a nice guy. I will see you tomorrow."

I bent over places a ghost of a kiss on her forehead and all but ran for my life to get home. What in the actual fuck am I doing?

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

30th March >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on John 8:1-11 for Monday, Fifth Week of Lent: ‘Neither do I condemn your’.

Monday, Fifth Week of Lent

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

John 8:1-11

'Let the one among you who has not sinned be the first to throw a stone'

Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. At daybreak he appeared in the Temple again; and as all the people came to him, he sat down and began to teach them.

The scribes and Pharisees brought a woman along who had been caught committing adultery; and making her stand there in full view of everybody, they said to Jesus, ‘Master, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery, and Moses has ordered us in the Law to condemn women like this to death by stoning. What have you to say?’ They asked him this as a test, looking for something to use against him. But Jesus bent down and started writing on the ground with his finger. As they persisted with their question, he looked up and said, ‘If there is one of you who has not sinned, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.’ Then he bent down and wrote on the ground again. When they heard this they went away one by one, beginning with the eldest, until Jesus was left alone with the woman, who remained standing there. He looked up and said, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?’ ‘No one, sir’ she replied. ‘Neither do I condemn you,’ said Jesus ‘go away, and do not sin any more.’

Gospel (USA)

John 8:1-11

Let the person without sin be the first to throw a stone.

Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. But early in the morning he arrived again in the temple area, and all the people started coming to him, and he sat down and taught them. Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery and made her stand in the middle. They said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” They said this to test him, so that they could have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger. But when they continued asking him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he bent down and wrote on the ground. And in response, they went away one by one, beginning with the elders. So he was left alone with the woman before him. Then Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She replied, “No one, sir.” Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”

Reflections (7)

(i) Monday, Fifth Week of Lent

We all have to deal with human weakness and moral failure both in ourselves and in others. The gospel reading raises the question as to how moral failure is to be dealt with. The religious authorities who bring the woman to Jesus deal in the currency of condemnation when it comes to moral failure. They invoke the authority of the Jewish Law which condemns the act of adultery. They test Jesus to see whether he will go along with the Jewish Law in this matter, thereby undermining his reputation for mercy, or whether he will reject the Jewish Law, thereby showing himself to be in defiance of God’s Law. Jesus’ enigmatic response, bending down to write on the ground, shows that he refuses to engage with this situation in the terms put to him by the religious authorities. Jesus’ concern is not whether or not the woman is deserving of condemnation, but rather that she be free for a new life that reflects God’s desire for her. Jesus’ searing proposition to the woman’s accusers, ‘If there is one of you who has not sinned, let him be the first to throw a stone at her’, stops the woman’s accusers in their tracts. Jesus is the only one who is without sin, and he is not in the business of condemning the woman. Who are sinners like the woman’s accusers to do so? Once the accusing men have slunk away, Jesus looks directly at the woman for the first time and addresses her personally. Jesus’ declaration to her that he does not condemn her and his call to her to go away and sin no more show that his entire concern is to rescue her from her terrible plight and set her free for a new direction of life. None of us is without sin. Yet, the Lord is not in the business of condemning us for our many failings. His primary desire is that we live in a way that is worthy of our dignity as sons and daughters of God. He came to show us the way that will be truly life-giving for ourselves and for others and to empower us to follow that way and to keep returning to it after we have failed.

And/Or

(ii) Monday, Fifth Week of Lent

In the gospel reading the Pharisees who brought an adulterous woman to Jesus were suggesting a simple answer to her moral failure. Condemn her to death by stoning. The gospel reading also makes clear that this was not Jesus’ way of dealing with moral failure. He understood that the situation was far more complex that the Pharisee’s crude and simplistic solution allowed for. The men who brought the woman to Jesus saw her only in terms of her immediate past. Jesus’ way of looking at her was far more generous; he saw the whole picture of her life, not just one little bit of it. Seeing the whole picture of her life, he also saw that she had a future, a future that those who brought her to Jesus would have denied her. When the Lord looks at us he sees the whole picture too; he does not become obsessed with one or two details of the picture. He hears the full story of our lives, not just a couple of lines of our story. The Lord knows that our story is unfinished, and will only be complete when he himself comes to transfigure our lowly bodies into copies of his glorious body.

 And/Or

(iii) Monday, Fifth Week of Lent

The religious leaders who brought a woman to Jesus who had been caught committing adultery seem to have had a very black and white view of things. As far as they were concerned, they were good and she was bad. Furthermore, the bad needed to be eliminated to protect the good - they reminded Jesus that death by stoning was what the Jewish Law prescribed. Jesus was reluctant to engage these men in conversation at all, but when he did speak, his brief comment cut through their primitive analysis, and showed it up in all its inadequacy, ‘let him who is without sin cast the first stone’. Jesus was reminding them that the sin which they so despised in the woman was alive and well in themselves. When they pointed one finger at her, three fingers were pointing back at themselves. They could not look at her without looking at themselves, and if they looked honestly at themselves their attitude to the woman would have to change.Jesus did not deny that the woman had sinned, but he strongly denied that her sin made her any different from anyone else, including those who were so sure of their own virtue. The gospel reading reminds us that we all come before the Lord as sinners, but it assures us that when we bring our sin to the Lord we will not hear a word of condemnation.Instead we will hear a word of forgiveness and an invitation to something better: ‘I do not condemn you; go away and don’t sin any more’.

 And/Or

(iv) Monday, Fifth Week of Lent

It is clear from this morning’s gospel reading that the religious leaders are very much in the business of condemning. They bring a woman to Jesus expecting him to condemn her, because, as they say, ‘Moses has ordered us in the Law to condemn women like this’. Earlier in his gospel, the fourth evangelist had placed a very striking saying on the lips of Jesus, ‘God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him’. Jesus did not come to condemn the world but so that it might have life and have it to the full. When Jesus asked the woman the question, ‘Has no one condemned you?’ he immediately declared, ‘Neither do I condemn you’. He gently reminded those who were quick to condemn her that they too were sinners. We all have something to repent of. To all of us Jesus says what he says to the woman, ‘go away and don’t sin any more’. The Lord does not condemn us but, in his love for us, he calls us beyond where we are; he continually invites us into a greater light and a fuller life.

 And/Or

(v) Monday, Fifth Week of Lent

The story of Jesus and the woman caught in the act of adultery is one of those gospel stories that we find ourselves drawn to. The portrayal of Jesus in the story is one that we that stays with us. We are struck by the contrast between the way the scribes and the Pharisees relate to the woman and the way that Jesus relates to her. The religious leaders have condemned her of a serious breach of the Jewish Law, one that is worthy of the prescribed punishment, death by stoning. Jesus, however, refuses to condemn her; ‘I do not condemn you’. As the evangelist, John, says a little earlier in his gospel, ‘God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him’. Rather than condemning her, Jesus pardons her and calls her to a way of life more in keeping with God’s purpose for her life. We may not have sinned in the way the woman sinned, but we are all sinners. We all come before the Lord as people who have not lived in accordance with God’s will and purpose for our lives. The reading assures us that when we come before the Lord in our sinfulness, we will not hear a word of condemnation, but a word of forgiveness. ‘I do not condemn you’, and also an invitation, ‘Do not sin anymore’. Condemnation comes easily to human nature. Thankfully, it is not in the nature of Jesus or of the God whom he reveals.

 And/Or

(vi) Monday, Fifth Week of Lent

The men who brought the woman to Jesus saw her only in terms of her immediate past, while being blind to their own past. Jesus’ way of looking at her was very different; he saw the whole picture of her life, not just one little bit of it. Seeing the whole picture of her life, he also saw that she had a future as well as a past, a future that those who brought her to him would have denied her. When the Lord looks at us he sees the whole picture too; he does not become obsessed with one or two dark details of the picture. The Lord is attentive to the full story of our lives, not just to a couple of lines of that story. He also knows that the story of our lives is always an unfinished story. It is the Lord himself who will endeavour to write the final chapter of that story when, in the words of Paul’s letter to the Philippians, he will come from heaven to transfigure our lowly bodies into copies of his own glorious body. Speaking through the prophet Jeremiah, the Lord says, ‘I know the plans I have for you, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future full of hope’. The Lord offered the woman, and offers all of us, a ‘future full of hope’. He can offer us such a future because, again in the words of Paul, ‘his power at work within is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine’.

 And/Or

(vii) Monday, Fifth Week of Lent

There are three characters in this morning’s gospel reading, Jesus, the woman and a group of male experts in the Jewish Law. The group of men brought the woman to Jesus to test him. They were using her against him. It was Jesus who was in their sights rather than the woman whom they claimed was caught in the act of adultery. They were of the view that if Jesus was to be faithful to God’s Law, he should condemn the woman. If he didn’t condemn her it would confirm their view of Jesus as someone who broke God’s Law and was, therefore, a sinner. Jesus did not fall into their trap. He gave himself time by writing distractingly on the ground with his finger. When the group persisted, Jesus issued that striking challenge, ‘if there is one of you who has not sinned, let him be the first to throw a stone at her’. They had brought the woman to Jesus as a sinner; they were of the view that Jesus himself was a sinner. Now Jesus faces them with the reality of their own sin. Their walking away was their acknowledgement that there was no one among them who had not sinned. We are all sinners; we just sin in different ways. We can never set ourselves up as the moral superior of others. Jesus did not condemn the woman. Yet, he did call her to live in a new way, ‘go away, and don’t sin any more’. Earlier in John’s gospel, Jesus said, ‘God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him’. The Lord’s instinct is not to condemn but to call us and empower us to take a path which will lead us to a share in God’s own life, both now in this earthly life and in eternity.

 Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: sjtbclontarf@eircom.net or  revmartinhogan@gmail.com

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie  Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.

[shinneth]

Gem Ascension Tropes (Peridot-specific: T - U)

Reference:

Primary Peri Post ▼ Primary General Post ▼ Full Article

Teleportation: Post-ascension, Peridot can use her willpower to do this so long as she knows about and can visualize the spot she wants to teleport herself (and/or others) to. Attempting this without that knowledge can result in a fatal Teleportation Misfire.

Mass Teleportation: With the help of Steven’s aura abilities to locate the gems remaining on Homeworld, Peridot exerts her willpower to poof and bubble all of these gems simultaneously, then by carefully reciting specific coordinates, teleports every single gem back to the temple on Earth. While Peridot pulls this off, she’s afflicted with a massive headache for performing this feat as herself instead of her superior Diamond Alter Ego.

That Gem is Dead: Midway through Act I, Peridot’s various encounters on her first visit to Homeworld since she left for her Earth mission cause her to remember the moments of her life on her planet of origin in much greater detail; consequently, Peridot is forced to acknowledge that as a Homeworld gem, she was far worse than she made herself out to be. However, Peridot doesn’t forget who she is now; she acknowledges through her Character Development after aligning with the Crystal Gems that she is no longer the 5XG who bullied her fellow gems and often got them needlessly shattered through social sabotage. This doesn’t stop her from feeling immensely guilty over her past actions, but Peridot remains firm in that she is no longer the amoral, sociopathic gem she emerged as. By Act III, Peridot starts to falter on this – especially when White Diamond forces her to relive the memories of her worst moments as 5XG – though by this point, Peridot’s dealing with far more issues than just a shady past life. Faced with being an Unwitting Test Subject, resigned to being White’s prisoner on Homeworld with no hope of being rescued by her friends, and enduring an endless week-long torture with no one but White for company is almost enough to make Peridot regress back to her old self. However, it isn’t long after the Crystal Gems do indeed come back for her that Peridot realizes her self-worth as the gem she worked hard to become despite how awful she used to be. While Peridot’s guilt over her past actions lingers, she ultimately learns to forgive herself with Steven’s help. The trope is ultimately reconstructed; while “5XG” is no longer considered the aspect of Peridot that defines who she is as a whole, she is accepted as a legitimate part of Peridot herself, as well as acknowledged to be a necessary component of Peridot’s current identity – she wouldn’t have aspired to become greater than herself if she was never a conniving, sadistic menace to society with so much gem dust on her hands.

(After reliving the first part of the memory of her encounter with 3UI as her former self) Peridot: “That isn’t me anymore… it’s not… 5XG died a long time ago! I-I’m just Peridot, and that’s all there is to it!”

These Hands Have Killed: No matter how much Peridot has become a better gem to atone for her many past crimes, it will never change the fact that she has lived most of her life as a remorseless sociopath who was not only willing to kill anyone in her way she viewed as an obstacle in her path to glory and success, but enjoyed doing so and reveled in the suffering of her fellow gems. Peridot is fully aware there’s nothing she can do to truly make up for her past actions, and this proves to be one of, if not the biggest source of her inner conflict in GA. The guilt she lives with on a daily basis due to this trope proves to be what prevents her from being able to fuse with Steven. At least half of Peridot’s Video Wills in Act II have her lamenting over this; she often brings this trope up to discourage anyone from rescuing her. She not only doesn’t want her friends to risk their lives coming back just for her sake, but Peridot staunchly believes her indefinite imprisonment on Homeworld is the punishment she deserves and should serve her time incarcerated.

This is Unforgivable!: Invokes this in Chapter 6 of Act III when Sanity Slippage starts getting the best of her. She very loudly vocalizes her hatred of White Diamond and how reprehensible she is before trying to slice her neck open.

Thought-Controlled Power: The basic definition Peridot’s ascended powers. While Chartreuse is limited only by her imagination, Peridot risks her own wellbeing if she tries to consistently perform at Chartreuse’s level due to her body having a much harder time channeling that much raw power.

Time to Step Up, Commander: How Peridot became leader of the Crystal Gems in the first place.

Tiny Tyrannical Girl: Played for laughs in the present day, but played disturbingly straight during references or flashbacks to Peridot’s life on Homeworld. To say she was a Manipulative Bastard back then is an understatement, so Peridot did genuinely have many of these traits back in the day.

Took a Level in Badass: One of the central themes of Peridot’s character and the story in general is how she has to step up and rise from Plucky Comic Relief to Hero Protagonist in order to save her friends. This trope is an integral component in that transition.

Town Girls: The Neither to Lapis’ Femme and Bismuth’s Butch.

Trapped in Another World: Although Peridot spent most of her time as a prisoner within her gemstone to avoid dealing with her in real life, White Diamond found a way to even mess with her safe space. For six days, Peridot has been forced into various different worlds, all of them terrifying and filled with things trying to kill her, forcing her to be constantly on the run. She goes through several of these, but the only one even partially shown in the story is the Slenderman Shout-Out world.

Trauma-Induced Amnesia: While Peridot made herself forget many aspects of her Homeworld life after her Heel-Face Turn, they were fairly easily regained when she returned to Homeworld. Only one memory remained deeply buried into her psyche and wouldn’t be unearthed so easily: the first time Peridot met Jasper. It took 5XF’s deductive skills and Steven’s intervention for Peridot to recall this awful moment in her life, as it nearly shattered her entire identity.

Traumatic Superpower Awakening: White Diamond puts Peridot through relentless torture (almost life-threatening) just to speed up the process of harvesting a diamond from Peridot’s gemstone that would have taken centuries to form on its own. In order to fully awaken, Peridot has to accept that She Can’t Fight Fate and submit to her own diamond. Then, she’ll fully ascend. Naturally, Determinator Peridot won’t concede even after the torture she went through. Ultimately, another power struggle ensues as White Diamond tries to fragment Peridot’s mind to take her fiery determination and defiance out of the equation, so she’ll be much easier to manipulate. In order to do that, she needs to render Peridot unconscious, so she orchestrates a very dire situation where a giant blade is set to lacerate Peridot’s throat and all she can do to stop it is with an agonizing Bare-Handed Blade Block. Locked in another stalemate, White Diamond resorts to conjuring a projection of Steven with his voice to trick Peridot into Delirious Misidentification long enough to overpower her at last. Peridot, stunned in shock via a Slashed Throat, thinks she actually got Tricked to Death and passes out, allowing White Diamond to finally mess with her mind and engineer Peridot to be receptive to her new powers. One short conversation later after Peridot wakes up, White Diamond assists in fully awakening Chartreuse Diamond into existence.

Triangle Shades: Receives her canon CYM upgrade in the first chapter of Act III.

Tricked to Death: Falls victim to this when a very convincing mirage of Steven (conjured by White Diamond) breaks her focus from keeping a blade from giving her a Slashed Throat. Subverted in that, being a gem, this doesn’t actually kill Peridot, but at the time it looked pretty damn convincing – enough so that she lost consciousness after this.

Trickster Girlfriend: Downplayed due to her Character Development, but Peridot’s penchant for trolling Steven for shits and giggles doesn’t end just because they’re dating now. And sure enough, Steven has already acknowledged that Peridot’s more esoteric traits play into how his love for her went beyond the platonic level.

Troubled Story Flashback: The flashback shown in Chapter 3 of This is Who I Am shows the precise moment of Peridot’s fall from grace way back when she was still a Manipulative Bastard shortly after discovering the Crystal Gems. Specifically, the moment Jasper is assigned as Peridot’s escort (as well as Yellow Pearl’s speech highlighting how screwed Peridot is shortly before meeting Jasper) is when Peridot gets a very nasty wake-up call to reality. While far from being anything resembling “reformed” coming out of that traumatic event, it leaves Peridot so shaken that the stoic, sociopathic, cunning, and pain-resistant traits she was once notorious for embodying almost completely vanish from that point going forward. While she didn’t completely lose her ambition, Peridot’s forced to look at her goals realistically and understand most of the goals she strived for simply aren’t possible for a gem like herself. 

Trying Not to Cry: Often attempted, but more often than not fails. One of Peridot’s biggest weaknesses is her inability to hide how she truly feels by trying to maintain a strong, invincible demeanor in the face of adversity. After an initial fit of crying when she’s forced to remember a particularly traumatic memory in This is Who I Am Chapter 3, Peridot does finally manage to pull this off for Steven’s sake.

Tsundere: Tsuntsun Types 3 & 4. Deredere Types 2, 4, & 6.

Twisted Ankle: Peridot was so close to reaching her friends before the final door dropped, but all it took to fail was a single misstep that made her trip. Due to how fast she was running, the trip sent her crashing head-first into a door mere inches away from freedom. This shatters Peridot’s visor and concusses her. Combined with the fatigue from the constant running, she’s too weak for her metal powers to get the door to budge and has no means to hack her way out (not that she’d have the ability to concentrate on that, anyway…).

Undying Loyalty: Steven, Steven, Steven. Well, Peridot does have this for the rest of the Crystal Gems, but it was her loyalty to Steven specifically that made Peridot get her act together and never give up in her endeavors, no matter how often she screwed up. This only briefly falls out at the start of Act III, solely for the reason that Peridot is under the impression that she is stuck on Homeworld for good and will never see Steven again, which forces her to compromise her loyalty to Steven when he does come back for her. However, it completely tears her up inside (and she is mentally compromised when he returns). It isn’t long before she’s looking for the perfect opportunity to come back to Steven, and luckily for Peridot, she finds the right moment to come back and make amends for her transgressions.

The Unfettered: Exclusive to her pre-Earth Homeworld persona. Atypical of her kind, Peridot quickly developed ambition to not only rise above the rest of her kind, but even outdo gems above her in the caste system, even though Peridots had a strict glass ceiling they were never meant to break. Peridot did not once hesitate to get any gem who threatened her ambition eliminated by any means necessary, all the while being clever enough to cover her tracks so that she would never be caught breaking the rules. If she “befriended” any gem (or was even the least bit cordial towards them), it was always done so Peridot could use them to further propel herself up the ranks.

This aspect of Peridot was forcibly diminished once her promotion led to her being assigned with Jasper as an escort. As Chapter 3 of This is Who I Am shows, Reality Ensues when Peridot finds herself in a bind she can’t manipulate her way out of with Jasper. While it’s only a Near-Rape Experience, Peridot was overwhelmed by so many unfamiliar feelings in that moment that it actually Broke the Haughty. While not completely succumbing to it, Peridot’s latent submissive qualities that are normally ingrained into her kind from the point of emergence awakened from this, which permanently shook her up to the point where she couldn’t be unfettered any longer. She finally understood how delusional her aspirations were.

Unlikely Hero: Given how often she screws up in the first half of Act I and considering her canon history… if you called Peridot becoming a legitimate hero who would go on to become a key figure in Era 3’s gem society, and was The Chosen One all this time, then you are a liar.

Unstoppable Rage: Sorrow and grief is more prevalent, but rage is definitely there when Peridot’s Heroic BSoD after Pumpkin’s death invokes this. If nothing else, Peridot’s not only filled with rage towards White Diamond (and Homeworld itself) over her loss, but also herself in reference to her behavior right before Pumpkin died. She cries endlessly and inadvertently summons a massive storm across an already-dying Homeworld. Her Involuntary Shapeshift to Chartreuse Diamond in the midst of this worsens the collateral damage her rage causes, including the shattering of every establishment still standing on Homeworld.

There’s actually a moment in Act I that qualifies here, too. Late in Chapter 4 of Act I, once Peridot successfully gains Yellow Pearl’s gemstone as a makeshift Skeleton Key. Her menacing Smug Snake demeanor fades when Bismuth and Lapis try to snap her out of it… then Peridot remembers where she is, and after the trauma of what she went through with 9FC earlier finally sinks into her mind, combined with the memories she’s regaining from working in Homeworld becomes too much to bear. She entertains the thought of shattering the helpless poofed Peridots, but ultimately focuses her rage on her own console. By the time Lapis and Bismuth dare to return to retrieve Peridot, they find she bashed said console into powder.

Unwanted Rescue: Literally every single Video Will Peridot makes to her friends in Act II has her begging each individual Crystal Gem to not go back to Homeworld just to save her. Various reasons include not being worth going back and risking everyone’s lives to rescue (opposed to Steven, Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and Connie – Peridot firmly believes they’re all worth risking everything to be rescued, especially as a collective unit), not able to handle the inevitable guilt of someone getting harmed, captured, or killed because of her, not wanting her friends to fall into White Diamond’s painfully obvious trap since Peridot herself is the bait being used… and to some gems, Peridot even confesses that she doesn’t deserve to be rescued after remembering what a horrible gem she used to be on Homeworld; thus she sees her imprisonment as serving time for the crimes she legitimately committed in the past. She questions her own worthiness as a Crystal Gem in light of her many past crimes. …Of course, the Crystal Gems promptly ignore these pleas without a second thought. Certain gems, such as Garnet, find it amusing how Peridot’s attempting to use this trope to hide how desperate she is to be saved and just wants to go home.

Unwitting Test Subject: The first case of one since before Era 1 ended. Peridot was among some of the last gems created on Homeworld, therefore White Diamond had one last opportunity to conduct an experiment she was on the fence about doing in the past, which was namely to add a broken shard of Yellow Diamond along with her own diamond dust into a gem’s injector fluid to enhance their inherent abilities. For what Peridot was subjected to specifically, White Diamond wanted to see if she could create a new Diamond from another gem.

[pamphletstoinspire]

Articles on Catholic Theology and Teachings - Part 8 - What is the Redemption?

For God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten Son; that whosoever believeth in him, may not perish, but may have life everlasting. --John 3:16

Sin separates us from God

You might hear a Christian say, "Jesus saved us all." What the person is really referring to is something Catholics call the redemption of humanity. Catholics believe that Jesus Christ willingly sacrificed himself on the cross for the redemption of human sins on the behalf of all humanity.

Our beliefs tell us that through one man, Adam, sin entered the world in the form of original sin. Since that time, humans have been cursed with original sin, the results of our first parent’s defiance and rejection of God’s love. Original sin is harbored in every descendant of Adam, the entire human race, from the very moment of conception. It is original sin that weakens the will of man, and creates a tendency in man to embrace evil and selfish passions. Original sin places a barrier between God and us, and the effects of original sin are so devastating that no man, by his own willpower, can overcome the selfishness inherent in original sin.

St. Paul tells us that, "For the wages of sin is death. But the grace of God, life everlasting, in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 6:23)." Sin, both original and personal, separates man from God. Because God is the perfection of all that is holy, just and good he cannot tolerate sinful humanity in the fullness of his presence. Sin places a chasm between man and God that cannot be overcome by human religions, good works without grace, and man’s attempts to "try their best to live a good life." In essence no created person can bridge the gulf of sin between God and man.

God promised the coming of the Messiah to the Jews

We are very fortunate to have a loving and merciful God. No human can reach across the chasm of sin by his own power; fortunately God could. In fact, following the fall of mankind in the Garden of Eden, God began his divine plan to redeem humanity from the suffering of sin. God’s plan of salvation began with the Jewish people, the children of Abraham. Based on Abraham’s faith, love and hope for God, God proclaimed Abraham the father of a new nation, the Jews. As God’s chosen people, they received prophecies and teachings of the Lord from the prophets. Israel was given hope from God, who promised to send a messiah for the redemption of sin. The Jewish prophet Isaiah prophesied the coming of the messiah, the suffering servant, "Because of his affliction he shall see the light in fullness of days; Through his suffering, my servant shall justify many, and their guilt he shall bear. Therefore I will give him his portion among the great, and he shall divide the spoils with the mighty, because he surrendered himself to death and was counted among the wicked; And he shall take away the sins of many, and win pardon for their offenses (Isaiah 53:11-12)."

The ‘Suffering Servant’ fulfills the Jewish law

Jesus Christ, the suffering servant, fulfilled the Jewish prophecies and perfectly upheld the Old Covenant of the Jewish people to the extent that it was perfected in the New Covenant. Christ brought a new perfection to the Jewish law, and this is best explained by Jesus two commandments, "You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments (Matthew 22:37-40)". Jesus both preached and upheld the new spirit of the law with absolute, perfect love for God. He did not abolish the old Jewish covenant but rather fulfilled it and correctly interpreted the Jewish law as only the Messiah could. The Jewish circumcision eventually gave way to Baptism by grace and the sacrifice of animals gave way to the perfect offering of the Sacrifice of the Mass. Christ fulfilled the Passover banquet of the lamb through the ultimate sacrifice of himself, the paschal lamb, for the life of the world. Jesus also fulfilled and perfected the Jewish laws of ritual cleansing, "Hear me, all of you, and understand. Nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person; but the things that come out from within are what defile." Christ’s new teachings of sin are placed in the context of love for God. Christ teaches that sin is not breaking rules and rituals, but the rejection of the perfect divine love of God himself. Only Jesus Christ could have perfectly explained, fulfilled and lived according to the Law.

Jesus Christ Suffered and Died for the redemption of the sinful

God’s love sent Jesus Christ into the world to teach his people the spirit of the law as well as to perfectly atone for the forgiveness of sin. Jesus tells us, "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I no longer call you slaves, because a slave does not know what his master is doing. I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father (John 15:13-15)." He laid his life down, "to serve and to give his life as ransom for many (Mk 10:45)." Indeed, Jesus Christ, true man and true God, willingly accepted the crucifixion at the hands of the Jewish Sanhedrin and Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor. Those who feared and hated him had him crucified for false charges of inciting discord among the Jews and uttering what seemed to the Jewish leaders to be blasphemous words, "Amen, amen, I say to you, before Abraham came to be, I AM (John 8:58)." Thus Jesus testifies that he is God, and that "he who sees me sees the Father also. Do you not believe that I am in the Father, and the Father is in me? (John 14:8-11)" Christ reveals to the Jews that he not only is the human messiah but also God himself, for "I and the Father are one (John 10:30)." The Jewish leaders, who expected a political messiah, could not accept Jesus' divine words of truth and had him crucified.

Because Jesus Christ was both true God and true Man, he served as the divine and human sacrifice for the atonement of the sins of mankind. His perfect fulfillment of the law, the agony of his Passion, and his death on the cross, paid once and for all for the sins of man. "For as by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so by one man’s obedience many will be made righteous (Romans 5:19)." God’s justice demanded expiation for sins that could not be paid for by any human. Only the perfect, willing and loving sacrifice of the Son of God could atone for sin and bridge the gap between man and God. Jesus himself "by his obedience unto death accomplished the substitution of the suffering Servant, who ‘makes himself an offering for sin,’ when ‘he bore the sin of many,’ and who ‘shall make many to be accounted righteous,’ for ‘he shall bear the iniquities (CCC 615)." Because Christ was truly righteous and truly human, he could sacrifice his life in love for the redemption of all mankind. Thus Christ’s death was an act of the purest love, for his death and resurrection allowed us to die to sin and rise with him in the new life of grace.

Did Jesus die so all humankind could be saved?

Yes, God gave his only son so that all humans, be they believers or unbelievers, could be redeemed by Christ’s sacrifice. Christ did not die for a predestined elect. The Church tells us "Christ died for all men without exception: ‘There is not, never has been, and never will be a single human being for whom Christ did not suffer (CCC 605 and Council of Quiercy)." The Catholic Church does not agree with the Calvinistic doctrine that Jesus died for the salvation of a predestined elect, or that certain people are destined to damnation. Church Tradition preaches in unity with Holy Scripture, "he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey them."

The justice of God demands that no human being can be predestined to hell. God desires all to be saved, but only the individual can reject God’s love and his gift of redemption.

Then all people are guaranteed salvation?

God has given us the gift of free will. The death of Christ on the cross opened the gates of heaven so that all people might be saved, but because of free will we can choose to reject Christ’s free gift of redemption. Christ’s death on the cross cannot force anyone into heaven, and it is conditional. Only those who return the love of Christ and obey his conditions can justify their place in the kingdom of heaven. We call this process justification.

What are the conditions?

Christ preaches that, "No one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit (John 3:2)." We are also told, "[Circumcision] prefigured baptism, which saves you now. It is not a removal of dirt from the body but an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ (1 Peter 3:21)." St. Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit on Pentecost further explains, "Repent and be baptized every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:38)." St. Peter refers to the gift of grace, the free gift of God imparted on all baptized believers. Grace, merited by Christ’s death on the cross, breaths supernatural life into the soul, cleanses the soul of sin (both original and personal sin) and allows the baptized person to live a life of Christian holiness (provided they do not choose evil over grace by sinning mortally). It is grace that justifies us and allows us to have supernatural faith, hope and charity. "For by grace you are saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, for it is the gift of God (Ephesians 2:8)."

A rich, young man also asks Jesus, "what good must I do to gain eternal life?" Jesus replies, "If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments (Matthew 19:16-17)." Christ also tell us of his two great commandments, "You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments (Matthew 22:37-40)." Jesus makes it clear that we are justified firstly be the free gift of grace through baptism and secondly by obeying the commandments out of faith, hope and charity. Notice Christ’s exact wording, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." This not only means that we refrain from evil toward our neighbor, but that we obey the positive spirit of Jesus two commandments and the beatitudes he preached at the Sermon on the Plain and the Sermon on the Mount. Not only are baptism, repentance, faith, and obeying the commandments necessary for justification, but also good works for love of God and neighbors.

The love and mercy of God has redeemed humanity, but it is the responsibility of the individual to justify their salvation by responding to Christ’s grace in baptism and obeying his words of truth. How can we know what the truth is? St. Peter says, "Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life (John 6:68)." It is the words of Christ that the Catholic Church preaches, for the "Church of the living God [is] the pillar and foundation of truth (1 Timothy 3:15)."

[rock-and-compass]

Rock and Compass Watches Once Upon A Time – 6.18: Where Bluebirds Fly

Overview

The Black Fairy pays Zelena a visit with the proposal of an alliance of sorts; she has a use for some “wicked” magic and hopes to come to an arrangement. Zelena is not interested, drawing threats and ire from her visitor. Zelena decides to take care of the Black Fairy herself, leading to a mistake that requires a huge sacrifice to correct. Snow throws herself into planning Emma’s wedding while David worries that the big day will be ruined by an evil interloper like his and Snow’s was. In the past, Zelena faces a choice between power and friendship.

Discussion, Thoughts and things of significance

Where Bluebirds Fly again has a strong theme of sacrifice, this time revolving around Zelena and what she’s prepared to do for her daughter. While it is a good character piece for her, it does feel very much like they have set her on a course towards the conclusion of her story – whatever that may be. Elsewhere, we got some lovely Charming-Jones family feels with the wedding under discussion, and the slow-burn problem of Henry’s out of control authoring continues to simmer, almost unnoticed beneath everything…

One stop redemption shop – Zelena has done a lot of bad shit. Most of it motivated by envy and the desire to prove her self-worth to those who have rejected her. And while it’s always been easy to feel a modicum of sympathy for her, ultimately she still chose to do ‘wicked’ things in the effort to prove herself. It doesn’t matter that she has a reason, what matters is that she chose to do them. She’s always been prone to self-sabotage, something the flashback emphasises when she chooses her power over her old friend, even though the net result is always a Zelena who is still alone.  Since becoming a mother, she’s shown the capacity to think of someone else and put her daughter first. It’s hardly been a stunning redemption arc, more that she just stopped doing bad stuff. But this episode goes full throttle with redemption, making her run a gamut of emotions and possible choices all to get her to the noble sacrifice at the end.

The real talking point of her story is her relationship with Regina – and it’s not great. There is a lot of smouldering resentment between the two of them; Regina still unfairly blames Zelena for Robin’s death, something that Zelena finally calls her on. Zelena feels unwanted and marginalised. Regina is nasty and bossy and overbearing, she persists in treating Zelena like she is stupid rather than give her a chance – the Black Fairy visited Zelena and asked for assistance - the very act of doing this signals that she is not as all-powerful as she has been pretending. With Zelena feeling threatened and worrying about the safety of her daughter surely it would have been kinder, more mature, to listen to Zelena, and work with her rather than resort to bickering and one-upmanship? A recognisance mission would have been the perfect alternative to alienating Zelena, making her feel unwanted and triggering all her instincts to go off half-cocked in an effort to prove herself.  Plus, the bickering is annoying and boring; even the entire Charming family think so if their eye-rolls and grimaces are anything to go by.  

Zelena of course doesn’t listen and goes off to track the Black Fairy for herself. Regina is affronted at her audacity and defiance of orders and goes to find her. While there is certainly some concern for Zelena’s safety, there is also the assumption that Zelena will mess things up for the rest of them that over-rides everything. They argue again, Zelena’s temper gets the better of her, they both get so distracted with each other that all sense of caution evaporates leaving them prey for Black and Gideon. Zelena’s magic ends up getting used against her will but they do learn that an all-out magical assault will have no effect on the Black Fairy.

Afterwards, Regina continues to castigate and belittle Zelena, completely ignoring her inclination to fix the mistake. Yes, it was a situation gone horribly wrong, but by zeroing in on her sister’s ineptitude as a result of trying to prove herself, Regina sets out to prove her own superiority. She’s just as bad as Zelena in her determination to be “better”.  It suits her for Zelena to be lesser, to be excluded from the inner circle – she even goes so far as to send Zelena back to Oz, a bothersome liability removed from notice. Well, it worked with the Evil Queen side of herself, so of course she’s try it again with her sister.

But Zelena gets to show her mettle. All by herself. Her own choice. With no influence from anyone else. Zelena chooses to use the crystal heart to remove her magic powers to fix the problem. She takes the hard road for the greater good and her only worry in doing so is her daughter’s well-being– she ensures that Robyn will be protected should anything happen to her as a result of giving up something that was inborn in her. It’s a big sacrifice. She deserves a lot of credit for it. It’s a hero’s move.  I found it very interesting that Regina could only find it in herself to be kind to her sister once she gives up her power. Now she’s full of admiration and hugs and willing to accept her sister into the fold. I find it incredibly curious that Regina has now managed to, purely by chance, nullify another powerful presence in her life, her rival if you will and that of all the parental characters this season, she is one of the only ones yet to face a sacrificial choice between her child and herself. Surely that choice is coming?  

Best Scene ever – I can’t not say anything about the pancakes scene! It was the highlight of the episode and finally delivered a nice slice of ‘domestic Captain Swan’ that the fandom has been wanting for so long. It showed for the first time that Emma and Hook have a physical relationship – not that it needed saying; they’ve been together for a long time and they live together. But it is interesting (or should that be frustrating) that the principle couple of the show has never had their intimacy displayed on screen before and they never expressly showed us their ‘first time’. I can’t help but think if they’d shown us a little bit of this physicality from the beginning of the relationship, it might have lessened the impact of the naysayers. I noticed that the salty copmments were much less than usual after they showed Emma and Hook all snuggly-wuggly-morning–after and looking to keep the fires burning, if ya know what I mean. Darn Snow and her inappropriate use of her key privileges! 

So is it only because Emma and Hook are officially engaged that they feel the time is right to show that they’ve done-the-do or is there an ulterior purpose? There is some speculation that the scene was a late addition to the episode. This was mainly due to a picture that Jennifer Morrison posted on Instagram of herself, Colin and Ginny having dinner with the caption that it was the last family dinner for season 6 while they were wearing the same clothes as in the scene (day 87). This was posted on the final days of shooting for the season, suggesting either re-soot or last minute addition during editing. (Of course it could have also been a picture taken earlier). I asked the writer of the episode, Brigitte Hales about it on Twitter but she seemed to dodge the question and even showed a reluctance to share the script when it was requested of Adam on Twitter too. Circumstantial evidence certainly but let’s Assume for a moment that it was a late edition the next question is why was it added? Yes, the episode was slow and not overly exciting and this scene was actually needed to give the episode some life, but even so, they didn’t need to put “Sex” in a flashing neon sign to achieve that – any domestic Captain Swan would have achieved the same goal.  . . And we do have a flashing neon sign what with the reason for the musical episode being a wish that Snow made while pregnant that somehow resurfaces in Storybrooke in the present … it just makes one wonder if there is another, biological reason for giving us #pancakes?  

(Speculation alert: just going on the limited spoilers we have about the final, now I’m imagining Emma finding out she’s pregnant in the asylum, completely mirroring  her finding out she’s pregnant with Henry while she was in prison and it being the catalyst for her to fight against whatever curse Black has concocted)

**Not that I necessarily subscribe to this theory**

A communal effort – so the big question from the Black Fairy’s request for help from Zelena is why she can’t turn her own crystals dark? Oh sure, I know she gave some cock-and-bull story about Zelena’s magic being unstable or some such but it smacks of an excuse. A powerful fairy, with the level of evil that the Black Fairy apparently is should be able to make her own dark crystals. Is her magic not as dark as she’d like everyone to believe? Can I just add that it is a little bit illogical that this woman, who has been mining dark crystals for however long would not have been prepared for “the last battle” before she made her entry into the realm. It is just ridiculous to suggest that this final fight, which has been prophesised, wouldn’t have been prepared for down to the last detail. I just don’t think you’d go ahead with your plans, and make a big song and dance about them, without having the vital ingredient covered beforehand. It really smacks of an excuse to give Zelena a feature episode and rid her of her magic.

No more Magic – So why do they need Zelena to have no magic? Is it tied in to the exit narrative of our departing characters? Or her own death? I’ve said it before, but I wouldn’t be Regina Mills best friend for all the tea in china; it’s a dangerous position to be in.

That crystal heart – The heart that sucked out all Zelena’s magic just sort of vanished when the green force emanated from it after the process was complete. Did the heart evaporate with the magic or did it transport somewhere else, chock full of magic that someone else might be able to usurp?

What’s coming up – whatever it is, she wouldn’t want to be alone for it. The Black Fairy gives this warning to Zelena regarding whatever she has planned for Storybrooke that is apparently so worrying, so terrifying that the Wicked Witch of the freaking West should be shitting her pants. But the Black Fairy can’t get the thing started without the black crystals – so since, Zelena sacrificed her powers to stop her magic from being used for the BF’s nefarious purpose, who is going to do the dirty work for her? The Black Fairy also tells Zelena and Regina that they, “won’t be around to regret your mistake much longer. No one will.” It sounds like a death threat but then she doesn’t kill them, so that would suggest that her plans for Storybrooke involve something that requires dark crystals and will result in the population of Storybrooke going elsewhere… sounds like a new version of the dark curse to me.

Let’s get this party started – The Black Fairy is very big with the talk that the last battle is coming but hasn’t stated yet. But didn’t Rumple say that Emma would start it by breaking the curse way back in the pilot? So that would suggest that the breaking of the curse was the catalyst for what the Black Fairy wants to achieve with it.

The Neverland wand – Hook tells them that the wand Tiger Lily sent back is only part of the wand and that they need to find the other part. This would seem to be a good directive to be taking. It gets side-tracked by Zelena and Regina’s bickering. Personally, it made me very uncomfortable to see the wand fragment handed over to Regina – the wand was sent back for Emma. A locator spell is hardly rocket-science (hell we’ve seen Bell and David and Hook all use variations of the spell!). It just felt odd that Madam Mills needed to take possession of it at all.

Do it together – Regina tells Zelena to cool her heels and wait till they have the wand and can face The Black Fairy together, as a group activity. Is it me, or was Emma not quite as convinced by this reasoning. She seemed dubious but happy to use it as an excuse to stop Zelena acting rashly. Emma knows the prophecy is for her, it doesn’t seem to be a “together” type of situation.

On the subject of Fairy crystals - fairy crystals are the source of fairy magic. The crystals are mined by the dwarves and crushed to make magic powder that fuels magic. The fact that large quantities of crystals are growing below Storybrooke could be important?

One curse to another – “So you’re the big, bad, evil queen who cast my curse… no wonder it was such a pathetic failure.” The Black Fairy says this on meeting Regina. And it’s interesting on two levels – One, because it functions to diminish the pure act of evil that Regina’s curse was. Black calls it pathetic and a failure and it’s supposed to make us wonder at the level to which her possible version of the curse will take, should she cast it. And two, because we know that Regina’s curse was anything but a failure; it functioned exactly the way it was supposed to for 28 years – for 28 years it exiled an entire population of people, separated people from their loved ones and violated their minds and memories. It was very successful thank you very much and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this episode is peppered with reminders of the curse and it’s huge impacts; Snow and David’s conversation about Dr Whale and the infamous one night stand might be played for laughs, but it has the very real purpose of illustrating exactly how successful Regina’s curse was.  The only reason why Regina’s curse is not still going is because Rumpelstiltskin tweaked the recipe and allowed for the addition of a Saviour into the mix. So no, Regina’s curse was neither pathetic or a failure. And that is precisely why the Black Fairy feels like a fraud; her curse, should she be planning on casting a new one, is never going to stack up against the evil maliciousness of Regina’s. And isn’t it funny that Regina gets offended at the suggestion that hers was not a success….

Holding the baby - Zelena asks Regina to look after Robin if something happens to her. She agrees of course, and then Emma says “me too, she’s one of us. We’ll protect her with our lives”. It all sound very ominous and may be a hint that Zelena’s outlook is not great. Regina’s promise is natural, she is Robyn’s aunt after all, but Emma’s assurance feels… a little out of place considering the minimal relationship she has with Zelena… But maybe Robyn, being a baby, is of some interest to the Black Fairy and the point needed to be made that protection of her would be a priority? And should babies be in demand, what about Emma’s brother (even though he has seemingly been forgotten).

Uninvited entry – We have another example of someone coming into another person’s house uninvited this week when Snow lets herself into Emma’s house without knocking first. It’s not quite in the same vein as Regina’s barge and enter, but it still shows a certain level of discourtesy and freedom. And when you think about it, Henry letting himself into the Loft is another example. David was clearly not expecting him to be there to the extent that he pulled a gun out on entry…but I think in this case, Henry went there to ensure that he would be alone while he experiments with his writing. In short -  the people of Storybrooke need to learn to knock!

Other people’s lives - Regina is incredulous that the Charming family “really want to pick out centrepieces on the eve of the final battle?” She is pissed off and note how she trivialises the wedding/marriage as an unimportant detail. She still does find other people’s happiness hard to deal with. Actually, I found Regina quite odd throughout the whole episode, like she was trying to take control of something that is not hers to control - her sister and “the final battle”. While she’s trying to direct strategy and mesh herself into the fabric of the problem, she is really just a periphery player (or she’s playing a bigger game…) But you’ve got to love Snow here, she won’t be dissuaded by the threat of evil – “I do. David and I went through with our wedding after you threatened us it gave people hope. Why should Emma and Hook’s wedding be any different.” The trend of people being honest with and not intimidated by the “reformed” Regina continues. They just don’t seem to be walking on eggshells around her anymore. Plus the reminder of their interrupted wedding is interesting in itself – a timely reminder of the success of Regina’s curse as culmination of Regina’s vow to destroy their happiness. I’m still wondering about that injection of darkness that Regina recently took into her heart… It must be having an effect. And do our heroes know how she subdued the Evil Queen? Do they know about that darkness?

Writer’s block – Henry has experimented with changing the story or ‘fixing’ the outcome and it doesn’t work. He’s trying to translate his doodles (trust me kid, it’s no good, Google has no answers – I’ve tried) “Isaac said, the author’s powers are trying to tell me something” but he’s having no luck working out what that is and wonders what is the point of the author powers if you can’t help anyone…but isn’t that the point - the author powers were never about helping, they were about recording and completing. I almost wonder if, at the end of the book, the story needs to correct its course for completion – the ultimate villain is not introduced in the final chapter, Snow White and the Evil Queen do not become friends. Maybe this is the problem – with no author for so long (what with Isaac being trapped in a page with no way to write for all that time) the book went off course and the story didn’t unfold as it was ‘supposed to’. What would a “correction” mean to the story? I watched Tangled last night and Mother Gothel (who was villain masquerading as a caring mother) says to Rapunzel after her story has fallen apart – “You want me to be the bad guy? Fine, now I'm the bad guy,” and she lets her true colours show. You can’t have Mother Gothel being sympathetic at the end of the story and you can’t have Rapunzel deluded or torn by her duplicity. Now I really want to see Regina say that line. …And I’m still wondering about that pop-up book in the library.  

A speculative look -  Henry leaves the notebook on the table, open to a different page than the one they were originally discussing, David glances at the notebook then doubles back and looks more closely (and the music changes). It might be just concern for Henry’s problem but, I don’t know – to me it seems like something on the page rings a bell for him.  He doesn’t say anything more about it and goes on with the wedding planning,  but is it coincidence that David has a shift of attitude towards the wedding now – no venue is good enough, he doesn’t want Emma’s day ruined, how many beans would be needed to get us all back to the EF? – Does something in those scribbles connect to his interrupted wedding day, the dark curse or Regina?

Going Meta – I love it when the writer’s go Meta - “If this is about Hook, then that ship has sailed and there’s a pirate on it. Deal with it.”  If this wasn’t a message for a particular section of the fandom then I know nothing about anything.

Emma/Gideon parallels – Again we get a strong parallel between Emma and her parents and Gideon and his. Belle wants their son back. They’ve missed a huge chunk of his life but she doesn’t want to miss more. We also get Snow saying that she has missed all the landmarks of Emma’s life so wants to make the most of the wedding. This also invites comparison of The Black Fairy and Regina, the two people who have caused the situation and also of Rumple who is sort of on the outskirts but at the same time key to the entire story. So this Black Fairy storyline is really curse one rehashed and condensed? But to what point??

Blue and Black - she’s older than him, knew the BF long ago and might have the knowledge about how to defeat her… and he’s feeling bad that he was played into taking Blue’s magic and putting her into a coma that she can’t be woken from. Unable to share her knowledge. It’s the fact that she knows the BF’s darkest secret – one she never wants Rumple to know . . .  the real reason she gave him up. Whatever that is, something noble most likely.  But I can’t help but think that if they make her in any way sympathetic aren’t they undercutting their own ‘most evil of the evil’ discourse? We shall see.

[ivoryandbonerpg-blog]

                               ♔ DAPHNE GREENGRASS ♔

( the basics. )

AGE: 18 LINEAGE: Pureblood SCHOOL / ALUMNI: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry HOUSE: Slytherin ALLIANCE: Death Eaters

( personality. )

✓ / ✗ : haughty, vindictive, cynical, tenacious, serious, shrewd

( biography. )

• The Greengrass family has always stood at the top of wizarding society as one of the oldest, purest families in all of Britain. They have prided themselves on their longevity, not only in terms of their wealth and social status, but their resilience in the face of a rare blood curse that has threatened to end their bloodline for generations. As the heiress to their legacy, Daphne has been raised up with an understanding that her life was not her own, and that she was expected to be a part of something greater. To her parents, she was the continuation of their family’s dynasty- an insurance policy against the worst rather than a daughter. Every stage of her upbringing was meticulously planned before she had taken her first breath, from which house she was to be sorted into all the way up to her potential marriage candidates. As such, when she was welcomed into the world, it was not so much with the paternal affection that most children were given, but with the cold, calculative speculation of two guardians who refused to have anything less than the best to represent them. Her earliest memories consisted of tutors who were brought in to educate her and her father’s lectures about the importance of blood purity. If she made a mistake in her studies, it meant a lonely meal in her room with only a house elf for company. If she succeeded, Daphne was lucky to receive a brief moment of acknowledgment from her parents.

• That was not to say that her mother and father were incapable of love, but it was more a matter of how much they were able to give. From what Daphne observed, those feelings were only designated for her younger sister, Astoria. She was two years younger and the constant center of attention. While they both were given expectations of who they were to keep company with and how they were to behave outside of their household, Astoria was always given more leniency. Whereas Daphne was constantly starved for the attention of their parents, Astoria was lavished with it. Perfecting a spell which had taken her months of careful concentration would pale in comparison to her sister’s achievements, which always seemed to take priority during dinnertime discussions. While these observations often led to feelings of isolation and envy, Astoria was also one of Daphne’s only allies in their sheltered household. There have been a number of occasions when she purposely took the blame for her younger sister’s actions, if only to ensure that she remains the one bright spark that their family has left. 

• Life at Hogwarts was a comfort in comparison, as there was safety in numbers. So long as she played her part, maintaining a strong friendship between her family and the progeny of the other Purebloods, Daphne was allowed to act freely. By her fifth year, not only had she established herself under the guise of Pansy’s lackey, but she had established a double life as a frequent party girl in the shadier parts of Hogsmeade. It had been a means of release at first, finding comfort in the arms of others who needed the same, but the sharp stinging taste of firewhiskey and the deep thrum of the bass soon became a regular part of her life. In the dull roar of the crowd, she could be someone different, someone who wasn’t bound to live out a life that wasn’t her own. And it was addictive. She would disappear from the Slytherin dormitory for days at a time, returning from Hogsmeade in the early hours of dawn before classes started. By changing her appearance just a touch, and by using charms to hide the dark circles beneath her eyes, Daphne has managed to hide this habit of hers from just about everyone within her social circle, save for Pansy. Certainly no one looks at her long enough to tell the difference anyway. As her final year of schooling same to an end, she had no intentions of relinquishing her hold on the one thing that she has full control over, no matter how self-destructive it may be.

• But talk of war has begun to encroach on Daphne with the same grim inevitability of the blood curse running through her family’s veins. Her parents not only expect her to join the Death Eaters as soon as possible, but they expect her to coerce her sister into doing the same. Daphne would much rather be left alone to enjoy her last year of freedom, but the Dark Mark hovers over her head like a guillotine during every waking moment. The additional pressure has sent Daphne even further into her unending cycle of depravity, if only to relieve the tension building up on her for a moment. And beneath it all, the smallest spark of defiance has laid its roots into her heart. That alluring voice, found only at the bottom of an empty bottle, whispers treasonous wishes and desires that she has no right to have. Yet her longing for them only grows more intense with each passing day.

• But she knows her place, and Daphne is well aware that if she doesn’t fulfill her parent’s wishes, they will fall to Astoria. And that cannot ever happen.

( sexuality. )

Pansexual Demiromantic

( connections. )

⚔ Astoria Greengrass: To say that the Greengrass sisters have a complicated relationship might be the same as pointing out that the sun rises every morning. As the eldest sibling, Daphne was laden with certain expectations that her sister would never have to worry about. Yet her sister’s lack of conviction towards the ancient values which keep their family in power has reflected poorly on the heiress and indirectly on Daphne herself. This has led to her taking punishment on behalf of her beloved little sister on a regular basis, though Astoria is none the wiser about it. The elder witch cannot help but feel a little resentful about the fact that their parents clearly favor her, and wishes that Astoria would be a little more appreciative of her station. Regardless, the fact that Daphne loves her goes unquestioned.

⚔ Pansy Parkinson: Daphne’s best friend and confidant. Pansy is one of the few people to understand Daphne’s ordeal with her family, and has been a stalwart support while the two witches strive to gain the approval of their respective parents and the Dark Lord. Though Pansy is the face of their Slytherin gang, Daphne is very much her second-in-command and is often the brains behind their operations. Though she does worry that the Parkinson heiress may go too far and too quickly with her ambitions, she is determined to see that they both survive in the den of snakes they are trapped in.

⚔ Blaise Zabini: Having shared the same social circles for most of their lives, Daphne and Blaise have often found themselves in similar positions as the best friends of Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy respectively. As such, they have spent a considerable amount of time with one another, and have established a friendship of sorts. Though she would never admit it out loud, the Greengrass heiress does hold a flame towards her fellow Slytherin. She isn’t blind after all, and there’s something about his smart mouth that she finds both infuriating and alluring. Of course if the wizard ever heard about it, she was sure she would never live it down. Besides, Daphne knows that anything between them would only be temporary at best, so she has already given up on the idea of their relationship becoming anything more than it is. It doesn’t stop her from thinking about it, however.

the role of DAPHNE GREENGRASS is currently OPEN.

[princessvicky01]

The Antithesis of Nobility Part 3

Cullen X Kelandris X Annabel OT3 fic co written by me and @inner-muse

Part 3 of 4 - A VERY dark au centring on the two lady Trevelyan’s being held prisoner.  Love is tested to its limit as the torture of Kelandris and Annabel intensifies but can the Inquisition find them before they break?

Links to Part 1, Part 2 and AO3.

Warning: This fic contains violence, explicit torture and extreme angst - this is series is for mature readers only.

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

Part 3

Annabel wakes groggily from a dead sleep thanks to the churning rumble in her stomach. Her tongue is stuck to the roof of her mouth and she smacks it in disgust before fully remembering where she is. "Kelandris?" Her first thought is for her love, needing to know she’s alive and also there.

Slumped in her bonds, head lolling, Kelandris twitches at her voice. "'M’ here… How're you doing?" she slurs. "Too much t' hope that you're better than me?"

Annabel snorts in relief to hear her. "Been better..." she mumbles, trying to move but quickly giving up. She can just about make out Kelandris’s silhouette cast by the faint glow of the anchor. "Would be better still... if you didn't take your time to reply like that...you trying to give me a heart attack?" she muffles a laugh in place of tears. A basic defense mechanism she had learnt long ago to help hide wayward emotions.

"Don't see what's so funny... At least you get to lie down."

Distant footsteps mark the return of their tormentors. 

On the floor Annabel can practically feel them approach. The door scrapes, unbearably loud, making her winch, squinting she hopes against hope to see the guards boots, maybe with more water? But no, the sight of Sid's distinct heavy leather soles drains all the life from her. Light floods the room as the Lord enters behind with several guards.

Tristan smiles down at them both, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hello, ladies. I do hope you've enjoyed your rest. You'll need your strength today..." he chuckles at his own joke as the guards file in. They cut the rope on Annabel's ankles and drag her to her feet, and carefully untie Kelandris to do the same. Kelandris is too stiff and cramped to put up much of a fight, but they keep a tight hold on her anyway. She's vaguely gratified that Tristan seems wary of getting too close.

Annabel hisses with raw pain as her feet touch the ground. Trying to balance on parts that aren't torn is near impossible. When she sees Kelandris hardly fighting back the embers inside her flare, and she elbows the guard holding her. Thrashing, she flings herself forwards as more guards press in. Kicking out her feet leave useless blood smears on their uniforms, while she screams in rage and pain. "Get your hands off her!"

At her shout, Kelandris tosses her hair out of her face and bares her teeth. She struggles harder, sore muscles protesting violently, but to no avail. 

The guards haul the pair of them out into the hallway and over to the next room, with occasional punches to knock them off-balance when they get too feisty. This dungeon is much bigger and much better stocked, crammed full of all manner of nefarious equipment. Torchlight flickers over dark wood and jagged metal; the chains dangling from the ceiling cast ominous shadows on walls littered with blood stains.

Annabel's thrashing stops on sight of the cell. It seemed that things could get worse and her natural cheerful disposition was crushed under the weight of sheer dread. "You can't..." she mumbles. The looming pressure is too much and she roars, lashing out. "I am Lady Annabel of House Trevelyan, the Herald of Andraste and I demand you release us at once!"

The guards wrestle her onto one of the tables and strap her down. Arms, legs, chest – when they're done, she can barely squirm. Tristan gives a deranged little giggle. "I can do whatever I want. Who's going to stop me? Your inquisition isn't here. Is Andraste going to smite me down, ‘Herald’? I don't think so." He finishes securing her himself, tightening a strap across her forehead, and stroking her cheek gently, she replies with a snap of her teeth. An empty gesture but all she can manage.

She pulls the new restraints until she’s physically trembling with the effort. The anchor flares, if ever a human had crossed the line into demon surely this was it, yet it crackles but does no good. "The Inquisition will come and they’ll bring the might of the Maker with them! You will curse the whore who gave birth to you once they're through!"

 Undeterred Tristan ignores her to watch Kelandris, fighting frantically, straining to get to Annabel – or maybe just to throttle him. One guard staggers away, clutching at a broken nose; another yelps as a flailing knee connects with his groin. Finally, though, they manage to slam her to her knees against a metal crossbar, locking her wrists in place. She twists to look over her shoulder, snarling, but her eyes widen when she meets Annabel's terrified gaze. "Stay strong, love," she croaks, "We will endure this. We will."

Now Annabel is fully immobilised fear rushes up, clenching her chest and every muscle, her eyes dart to Kelandris. "No matter what just know that we win - because he can't break us!"

Sneering, Tristan digs his nails into the burn on her throat. "Weren't you listening, little tramp? I can do whatever I want. Sid!" The other man is standing by another brazier at the side of the room, a lot grander than the last one and housing a small bubbling cauldron.

Sid equips thick gloves while Annabel watches from the corner of her eye. That can't be a good sign. Whatever is in the pot hisses and spits as he lowers a ladle. Carefully, he walks around Kelandris. Her eyes widen in horror when she sees what's coming, and then the torturer dribbles molten oil onto her shoulders to run in patterns down her back.

At the first touch of scalding liquid, Kelandris keens, spine arching. The pain is like a living thing, pulsing as it burrows deep under her flesh. No matter how she writhes, she can't stop it from trickling slowly down, sprouting blisters in its wake… A single drop rolls down her front, between her breasts, leaving a tiny trail of stinging burns; most, though, cascades over the vulnerable expanse of her back. A thin sheen of oil lingers on her skin, holding in the heat. The agony is ceaseless, inescapable, unrelenting; like claws down her spine. And when his ladle is empty, Sid returns to the terrible cauldron, dipping up another boiling spoonful. Maker, no!

She can hear Annabel snarling like a wild beast behind her. The anger and fear in her lover's voice shake her more than the dreadful anticipation. Were they doing something terrible to her, as well? Or was she, herself, the cause of her distress? “Annabel?” she says, hoping both to reassure and be reassured. I can endure this, I can, she wants to add, but when she tries to glance over her shoulder it pulls at her burns, twisting and stretching the abused skin. Another tidal wave of pain crashes over her, and instead all that comes out is a cracked whimper. She sounds desperate, weak, and Maker, she hates it— No. No, I am strong, I must be strong! I will not break!

Annabel is barely holding herself together, rage and terror combining into an entirely new emotion which she cannot name. Bile stings in her throat as her heart hammers loud in her ears, demanding she act. Commanding her to fight. She thrashes, bounds pulled so tight they cut flesh wherever they hold her. "Kelandris! - I...it..." Her quick tongue has deserted her while her breath comes sharp and shallow. "It's going to be fine." She lies. To Kelandris and herself. She lies, because her mind can’t cope with the alternative. "Though all before us is shadow, the Maker will be our guide..." Another bitter lie.

“We shall not— fuck!— not be left to wander th-the drifting roads of the— of the beyond…” The words help steady Kelandris through blinding pain. A second cascade of oil leaves its marks on her back; it was near impossible to get the words out without devolving into wordless yells – but somehow, she completes the verse. It's a triumph, a tiny victory amidst all the horror, achieved only through Annabel's support. Together, they could get through this.

Annabel recites the prayer along with her love, calming her own heart and lungs as she did before battle, loosening muscle groups in turn until she could hear over her pulse once more. She only hoped the familiarity helped Kelandris.

Focusing on the rhythmic cadences of the Chant Kelandris squeezes her eyes shut. Her rekindled thread of defiance flares a little brighter as they speak, despite the ever-increasing agony. They'd be alright. Just as long as she could stay strong, for herself and Annabel. Pain is nothing; pain would pass. Love is everything.

For all her resolve, though, there's only so much her body can endure. She's braced for another dribbling pour, for seemingly endless torment in slow motion. This time, though, the torturer simply flings the contents of the ladle at her. Boiling oil splashes across her chest and shoulders in a sudden, nigh-unbearable onslaught. For a moment, everything else is overwhelmed by pure, unadulterated agony.

Kelandris screams.

 That's it. The scream shatters the calm Annabel had been desperately trying to build. Her mind has returned and she shrieks at the Lord. "You have us, and this? this?! is what you choose to do!? No..." she growls, defiant, refusing to believe it. "What do you really want. Our love? Our devotion? I would treat you as a god if you just stop! Please!" She was not above begging, not when it came to those she loved. Nothing came above those she loved. Not being the Herald, not the Inquisition, not the greater good, not even the Maker himself could trump her loved ones.

Hearing her desperate pleas Kelandris squeezed her eyes shut, tears seeping from beneath her eyelids. The frantic edge to Annabel's voice is terrifying. She should never have to debase herself like that, especially not for her.

Tristan scoffs. "And you expect me to believe your sudden change of heart? When you've done nothing but spit and curse and pine over her?" He gestures angrily at Kelandris and begins to pace. "I want you to regret every second you ever spent mooning over each other when you could have had me instead!" He whirls on Annabel. "Tell her you never loved her. Tell her you love me. Tell her you've always loved me, you will always love me, you'll never love anyone else except me!"

“Annabel...” Kelandris slurs, heart aching, “D-don't give in. S'just pain. Doesn't matter how much I scream... still love you, and C-Cullen— just need t' wait for him…”

“I'm sorry,” states Annabel. She lets it hang for a moment, hoping Kelandris knows it’s for her, and that Tristan's delusions let him believe it’s for him. She buries her feelings as deep as she can to keep her voice steady. “Kelandris was just a little fun. An experiment. I never knew you had true feelings for me. If I had known…” she sighs. “Things would’ve been different. I always did like you Lord Tristan, hence the teasing – I guess… I guess I just never knew you felt the same?” She does her best to look at him.

Below her, Kelandris's heart turned to ice. No, she thought. It's pack of lies. She knows that. She knows it. But hearing the words from Annabel's lips… After all these years together. After so much.

A lump rises in Annabel’s throat as her insides squirm, trying to prevent what she knows she must say. “I never loved her, not truly, or Cullen. If you let her go, me and you could start fresh, somewhere new,” she forces her lips into something resembling a light smile.“I'd like that, Tristan. I love you.”

“Annabel!” Kelandris chokes, feeling like her frozen heart has been ripped from her chest. Her lover had caved, had broken, and it was all her fault. Never blame yourself for what that little shit does, she'd said, but how could she not? Annabel was giving in for her sake. She'd failed her. If she hadn't screamed— if she'd just been strong enough—

Tears have formed in Annabel's eyes and begin seeping down her face. "Just, please, let her go," she begs. Nothing else mattered. He had given her a chance to save her love and she would take it. She would bleed it for all it was worth, for the smidge of hope it presented. Pride was long gone, erased by the overwhelming need to have Kelandris free, happy, safe.

Tristan smiles slowly, coming back over to brush a thumb tenderly across Annabel’s cheek, wiping away a tear. "There, there, my dear," he croons. "I knew you'd see sense eventually." He glances at Kelandris. "Does that make you jealous, Lady Kelandris? Not so enamored of your little slut, now, are you?"

Silence. 

Kelandris doesn't trust herself to speak – if she opens her mouth, she'll start begging for Annabel's forgiveness. Take it back, she'd say, We'll be alright, I'll be alright, let me bear this for you, please, I'll do better this time… She's quiet for long enough to raise Tristan’s suspicions. His eyes narrow, nails digging unconsciously into Annabel's face. "I asked you a question, Kelandris."

She wrestles with herself for a few heartbeats, until despair hardens into fury. And then, “I love her,” she says, quiet as death. “I love her more than anything or anyone in this world except for Cullen, and I love him more than anything or anyone else except Annabel. So you can go BURN IN THE MAKER'S FIRE, YOU FUCKING SHIT!” The sudden roar tears at her throat and reverberates around the room.

"Kelandris!" Annabel snaps aggressively, before the echo even fades. It might have been the first time she’s ever raised her voice to her. “Give it up! He wants me…” The next words lodge in her throat, stuck behind a sob. She forces them pass her lips with tears streaming down her face. “...And I want him.” Once she's said those ugly words, though, her eyes dart to Kelandris, burning with love she couldn't fake before returning to him. “Please… now just let her go, let us start again.”

He has no chance to respond, Kelandris is already yelling again. “Tristan, you despicable mewling quim!” Annabel's rebuke had struck her like a lash, but she would rather die than see her lover forced to submit to such a worm. “You can't have her! I don't care what you do to me, if you want to rip my fucking flesh from my bones, I will shove my broken fingers down your throat and suffocate you with your own blighted liver before I let you take her from me!!”

Tristan had observed Annabel carefully as she spoke, his expression flickering from suspicion, through anger and smugness, before finally settling on an ugly sneer as he rounds on Kelandris. “Ripping your flesh from your bones?” He repeats icily. “That can be arranged. And as for you, you sniveling bitch—” he pins Annabel with a furious glare. “You will pay for your lies. If you think I will let the two of you play me again, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Eyes widen as Annabel realises all too late her efforts have failed. She’d degraded herself, she’d spoken the most horrific lies she could imagine and it hadn’t been enough. All her words had done was made things worse. Bitterly she curses herself. How many times had she be warned her mouth would land her in trouble someday? How many times had she scoffed in reply? Would she never learn? It didn’t matter, she realises heavily, she had let Kelandris down, nothing else mattered.

“You’ll never understand,” she mutters, feeling foolish for daring to hope he might. “Our love is unbreakable and you’ll never experience that, because you're not worthy of it,” she says, her voice snide and bitter. Whatever hope residing in her faltered in the wake of despair which now swept through.

Sid moves around the back of Kelandris, in his usual grim silence, uncoiling a leather whip. He cracks in the air by her head, testing it and tormenting her; both women flinch. Blessed Andraste, that was going to hurt. Without ceremony, he snaps it across the blisters of her back. 

Broken skin tears away in a brutal stripe; to say it's painful would be like provoking a High Dragon and calling it an inconvenience. For a moment, Kelandris can hardly breathe – and yet, she does not scream. She bites straight through her lower lip, choking on an unvoiced cry and a mouthful of blood… but she will not scream again.

The sound of the whip is enough to make Annabel jolt and curl her toes. She would sell her soul to a demon if it would end this… but there never seemed to be one around when you needed it. “Kelandris—” she cuts herself off. What could she possibly say? What if she just made things worse?

Between strikes, Kelandris whimpers, shaking her head violently at Annabel – if she opens her mouth to speak, she knows her tenuous control will shatter.

Annabel could not bare it. Unable to escape she shuts her eyes tight and turns inward, to happier times, and slowly an idea forms. “We’ll wake, either side of Cullen, panting from this nightmare. He’ll stroke our hair, the way he does, even though his own curls have fallen loose. Eyes full of concern, he’ll tell us it's ok, it was just a bad dream. We—”

Her words are cut off by the whip lashing down again, followed by a desperate sob. Annabel flinches, but continues her litany undaunted. “We will snuggle closer, arms wrapped over each other, warm and peaceful. I’ll tenderly kiss your lips and tell you I’m sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. Cullen will chuckle that I'm apologising for a dream and kiss us on the forehead…”

Another terrible crack. Annabel's voice wavers, tears streaming from behind closed eyes, far beyond caring about showing weakness. “...Warm and soft, I will pepper you with kisses, ignoring the roll of his eyes as he lays back with a sigh. I will whisper my devotion to you, to him, to no one else. You will wipe away my tears and I will squeeze your hand. I will joke we should’ve known it was a dream when I shouted at you – as if I ever could!” She chokes back a stifled laugh that's more like a sob. “And the three of us will pray: though all before me is darkness, I will not be left to wonder—”

Tristan interrupts her stream of comforting words with a snarled “Enough!” He’s staring at Annabel, fists curling and uncurling, practically green with envy. "Leave her," he barks at Sid. "I want to shut this whore up." Kelandris twitches at that, letting out a strangled noise of protest. Better the torment be hers than Annabel's...

 A jolt of fear opens Annabel's eyes and sets her heart racing, but, stubborn as a druffalo, she sneers. “Fuck you!”

Tristan smiles nastily. "I wouldn't waste your breath if I were you. It will be in rather short supply soon." Behind him, Sid has coiled up his whip and stalked across to the counter again, busing himself with something unseen that makes a sloshing sound.

The noise is new and unwelcome. "What—" Annabel's words are cut off abruptly, as a dripping cloth lands on her face with a wet smack. Spluttering, she tries to shake her head, but her restraints make it impossible, suddenly panic begins clawing up her throat.

Kelandris has sunk deep into a haze of agony, but her lover falling silent mid-sentence is alarming enough to rouse her. Unclenching her jaw with a whine, she rasps, "Annabel?" There's no answer from behind her, just the splatter of falling water. Heart pounding, she wrenches her head around to look, despite the pain. Sid is standing over her love, slowly emptying a jug of water over her face... "Annabel!" Kelandris cries out again in anguish.

Water floods down Annabel’s throat, filling her empty stomach. Within moments she begins to gag, spluttering on bile and water. She writhes against the bonds, panic consuming her. There’s no air! Her lungs demand she breathe, but she can't. Every nerve inside her screams. Overwhelming primal instinct sends her body into frantic spasms. Her heart runs wild, pounding blood resounding in her head – she has to to hold on! Her chest heaves as she coughs, throwing liquid out only for it to be forced back in. Her lungs burn as she chokes, retching; the world darkens, fading to black around the edges, until she finally goes still, unconscious.

When Kelandris hears Tristan snap, "Don't kill her, you fool!" she slams hard enough against her manacles that something goes snap in her wrist. The horrible sounds she'd been making— Blessed Andraste, please let her be alright!

Sid lifts the cloth from Annabel and punches her in the stomach, winding her hard enough to force the water from her saturated lungs. Coming to she throws up water in a violent gush. Nothing has ever felt sweeter than her first drag of air. Coughing she spits out even more, her lungs jagged but grateful.

She’s only given a few seconds of respite before Sid covers her airways again. Annabel slams her mouth shut this time and tears at the bindings. Squirming her face she wishes she could close her nostrils, but she can't and water stings as it trickles in.

Terror grips her core once more. Gagging, coughing, struggling, she thrashes, pulling muscles and breaking skin. She can't breathe and nothing else exists. A voice in her head is screaming - she must breathe! The demand resounds in her skull, until finally she can't resist any longer – but her desperate gasp brings water instead of air. The way her lungs burn, it may as well have been fire.

When Annabel starts to choke in earnest, they remove the cloth. Tristan strokes her arm soothingly while Kelandris flinches as she sputters, whispering her name once again. "Maker, though darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light..." she grasps at another verse of the Chant, hoping desperately that her love will hear and be comforted, the way she herself had been.

Tristan casts her an annoyed look before easily talking over the weary mumble: "Nothing to say, Annabel? Now you see the price of your lies..."

Annabel's throat is raw, pain radiating from deep in her clenched chest, still retching, eyes watering as consciousness struggles to return. She can faintly hear Kelandris and the familiarity brings a degree of comfort. She can barely speak but knows her love must be worried, she must say something. Tristan is looking at her, almost adoringly; she manages two croaky syllables. "Fuck...you..."

He huffs, sickeningly soft expression instantly turning hard. "I think we've heard enough from you, slut." He grabs the wet rag and stuffs it roughly in her mouth. She protests as much as her restraints allow, not that it does any good. She stares Tristan down with seething look so cold it could kill, though her streaming eyes diminish the effect.

He glances at Kelandris, smirking at the bloody welts and blisters coating her back. "I'll let you enjoy the quiet. Leave the lying harlot with some entertainment, won't you, Sid?" said Tristan before he sweeps out of the room. 

Sid looks between them, considering, then grabs a pot and hangs it from one of the dangling chains above Annabel which she carefully watches with dread. He empties another jug of water into it, where it promptly starts beading from a crack in the bottom. He adjusts it until drops land squarely on her face and then follows his master out.

 The first drip of water jars her with panic, her lungs greedily sucking air in response. Maker not again. Her mind whirls, threatening to spiral into panic, but it's merely an annoying drip. Frowning, she sets about trying to loosen the gag. After considerable effort she manages to shove the rag out of her mouth. Immediately, she sucks in a ragged breath, deeper than she ever knew possible. Every drip on her face makes her flinch, still, but at least she can breathe properly, now. Once her chest is calm enough, she hoarsely calls out, "Kelandris?"

Her lover jerks in surprise, then hisses in pain. "Love?"

Relief floods Annabel. "Praise the Maker—" her body cuts her off with a wracking cough. "I… I'm so sorry..." she whimpers. She tugs against the restraints, only bringing fresh pain – she needs to hold her, to look her in the eyes and make sure she knows the truth. "I saw a chance…" she murmurs. "I tried… I'm so sorry— I love you. I had to try..."

Kelandris swallows, struggling with tears of her own. She's so exhausted, and she hurts so much... Never do that again, she wants to say, to beg: Please, I love you so much, I would bear anything to never hear you renounce me again... It would be so easy to just let go, to let Annabel comfort her. The thought fills her with self-loathing – her lover was in far too much distress already; she would never forgive herself for adding to her burdens like that. So instead she shoves aside her pain, locking it away with all the rest. She couldn't afford to be weak anymore.

"I know," she mumbles instead, "I love you too."

The words ease Annabel’s guilt a little. The dripping is becoming increasingly aggravating but at least it washes the tears away. She is exhausted to her very core, she has torn muscles she didn’t know she had and has ripped open the bloodied ribbons of her feet. After an extended silence there is only one question on her weary mind. "You will forgive me, won't you? I had to try..."

The only acceptable answer to that question is 'Yes, of course,’ but Kelandris can’t force it past her lips. Not without some sort of reassurance. Not with ‘I never loved her, not truly’ still bouncing around inside her head.

"I... I want to, I will, but I need a promise— I can't stand to hear that again. I know you were just protecting me, but I c-can't— I'd rather take the torture—" She bites her tongue to stop the flow of words. It seemed she wasn't strong enough to reassure Annabel properly, after all.

"You know I would never...could never... mean those things I said. I love you and Cullen more than anything. I would do anything...that’s the point. You have to understand - I had to! What choice did I have?!" Annabel demands.

"I know! And I know it hurts to watch me suffer... But you have to trust me when I say I can bear the pain! What I can't bear— even knowing it's lies, is to hear you talk like that. Promise me you won't do it again. Please." She closes her eyes, tears leaving tracks down her face.

Annabel's eyes sting with the effort of new tears. "He might have let you go..." even as she mumbles it she knows it’s stupid and wrong. As if he ever would. "... I lied for you Kelandris! I'd tell a thousand lies to save you...I'd...."

She’d heard the strain in Kelandris tone and bitterly realises she is trying just as hard to convince herself as her love. Two parts of her lunge and lash out, ripping chunks from each other and almost tearing her clean through. Truthfully she would say the worst things imaginable and degrade herself further still if it might save Kelandris. Equally she couldn’t bare to be the one to hurt her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask; if I wasn't so s-selfish..." Kelandris whimpers.

“No, don't be sorry! It’s my fault for being fucking stupid, grasping at anything that looks like hope...I promise. I won't fall for it again. I won't hurt you like that again - I won't say those things ever again." 

"Not stupid! Never stupid..." Kelandris can feel herself losing consciousness as her injuries catch up with her. "Thank you... S'alright. Love you. Will always... forgive you..."

"I love you too. I'll make it up to you, when we get outta here," Annabel murmurs. "I always do." Kelandris is silent. She can just barely make her out, slumped in her chains with blood running down her back – passed out from pain and exhaustion. Annabel's eyes flutter closed as well, only to snap back open as another wretched drop plops down onto her nose. It takes far too long for oblivion to finally claim her.

 Skyhold

“We found them,” Leliana said without preamble, stalking into the war room. There was no need to ask who she meant. “They're alive.”

Cullen relaxed for the first time in days. “Thank the Maker!” he exclaimed. At the sight of the spymistress’s bleak expression, though, he sobered, his burgeoning smile fading before it began. Trepidation replaced his relief, settling cold and heavy in the pit of his stomach. “...But?”

“There's no way to say this kindly,” she began, shadowed eyes hard beneath her hood. Bracing himself, Cullen nodded, and she gave voice to his worst nightmare. “They're being tortured.”

He heard Josephine gasp, but it was distant, barely audible over the pounding of his heart and the echo of phantom screams in his ears. No. No! Someone said his name. There was a bang; he realized he'd punched the table when his hand started throbbing.

“Where?” He grated. His voice was harsh in his throat. He didn't like that voice – it was the way he spoke on the bad nights, when he woke up from dreams of blood, tasting bile and demon ichor, shouting Kill them! at the top of his lungs— He shook his head, violently, as if he could dislodge the memories from inside his skull, and forced himself to take a breath. Falling apart wouldn't help. He tried again, a little steadier. “Where are they?”

“A hunting lodge in the foothills of eastern Orlais. My agent got close enough to eavesdrop on a patrol, but it was too well-guarded to infiltrate alone. With a few more scouts, though—”

“I'm going.” He would hear no alternative. He glared from Leliana to Josephine and back in open challenge, daring them to question him. The spymistress hesitated, drawing a breath as if to speak, but Josephine stepped in before she could do so, dark eyes flinty.

“If there were ever a time for excessive force, Leliana, I believe this is it.”

She acquiesced without complaint. Ambassador and Commander exchanged a tense nod of understanding, and the three advisors bent over the map to plan their assault.

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