#【 ❝ it hurts to pray to god cause god is dying too ❞ 】 ✕ speaker.

[warcost]

@fiirecracker / for julia

recognition.

it is a feeling he often has whenever he's out and about the city, like he has walked the streets a million times. or when he stares long and hard at vanguard feeds. and this is no exception. only... it feels more raw, somehow. closer to his heart.

(did he know those people? was he perhaps a guardian before? who'd lost his ghost in the red war? he feels like he'd remember something that. but then he feels like he'd remember everything before.)

riad did not mean to drop his basket of groceries, and he certainly didn't mean to gasp out loud. " i know you... "

[svnflowervol666]

hey! can you write one where harry invites y/n and his band mates out for drinks and they try to hand her a drink but she reveals she previously by saying like “you can’t drink when your pregnant” ...

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I combined this one with a request for where Harry constantly refers to Y/N as his “ex-girlfriend,” because they’re engaged now. ((Super cute. Super corny. Makes my heart mush. Anyway.)) Kinda short but still sweet. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Take care and TPWK.

“There she is!” 

His voice is drowned out by clanking glasses and the heavy bass of whatever rock song was playing through the shitty speakers in the corner of the room, but it was unmistakable nonetheless. Followed by his “greeting” were the shouts and howls of the rest of the bunch, most of them raising their glass in honor of her (late) arrival.

“My ex-girlfriend!”

Harry, despite his inebriated state, smiled widely and welcomed her as protectively as he always had in the past few weeks - relieving her person of any bags or extra weight, this time being her coat and purse which he hung on the brass hooks underneath the bar table, and inspecting her facial expression for any signs of discontent or worry. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when he kicked his “dad-mode,” tendencies into overdrive, but it certainly began on that rainy, Thursday night in their shared bathroom as they sat against the wall of the bathtub with four positive pregnancy tests in both of their hands.

“Really wish you’d stop calling me that, Har,” she sneered as he helped her shake her arms loose from her coat.

“One of these days you’re gonna cause a scene.”

“'S true, though,” the drunken boy giggled.

“You’re not m’ girlfriend anymore. You’re my fiance.”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at his antics, intending to pull him in for a quick hug and kiss when her attention was drawn away from her curly-headed brunette and towards the man of the hour.

“Y/N!” 

“Hello, birthday boy,” her voice was mellow against the drunken slur that had started to take over her friend, Mitch’s.

“‘S not very nice of you to be late to my party,” he slurred as he pulled her in rather harshly for a bone-crushing hug.

“Sorry, got caught up with some work stuff,” Y/N managed to get out through a chuckle in between Mitch’s squeezing.

She saw Harry stiffen out of the corner of her eye, like he was torn between yelling something akin to, “Take it easy on her, mate. She’s pregnant for christ’s sake,” or letting the interaction play out. He knew he wasn’t allowed to do the former, as they’d agreed to wait until they could have all of their friends and family over at the same time to tell them the good great news, so Harry opted to let Mitch hug her extra tight despite his unrealistic, dramatic worries that he’d crush her fragile frame or hurt the baby in some way. She made sure to send a reassuring smile Harry’s way when Mitch let her go from his grasp.

Short and sweet was her greeting to Sarah, both of them opting to kiss one another on the cheek.

“Let me see it one more time,” her voice was quiet amongst the chatter of the bar, almost sounding like a whisper.

Y/N felt the heat climbing to her cheeks as she let Sarah take her hand in hers to examine the ring on her fourth finger. The band was gold and slim, adorned with a dainty yet sizeable single diamond in the very center. 

“So pretty,” she gushed, admiring the way the gem flittered, even in the dim, tungsten-glow of the bar.

Y/N muttered a quiet “thank you,” before making her away back to the other side of the table where Harry was waiting for her with an outstretched arm, yearning to get back to what they had been doing before Y/N had to make her rounds.

As he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, Y/N caught wind of the tequila on his breath. She tasted it too, when she pecked his lips quickly and - oh god, did she taste stout as well? Maybe she’d end up taking care of him later tonight when his head was stuck in the toilet, but that seemed plenty fair considering how often Harry had been doing the same exact thing for her here lately.

“Yeh alright? Had me all worried when ya said you’d be late,” Harry’s question was asked lowly so that only she could hear.

Harry had been with Mitch and Sarah all day celebrating, hence this was the first time he’d seen Y/N since this morning when he kissed her and sent her off to work.

Y/N nodded and smiled, though her face led Harry to believe differently.

“Got sick when I got home from the office. Just took me a little bit longer to get out the door,” she shrugged, insinuating that it wasn’t a big deal, but that she wasn’t feeling one hundred percent ready-to-party either.

“Baby,” Harry half-scolded her, feeling a good portion of his buzz leave his body when Y/N mentioned that she hadn’t felt well.

“Why didn’t yeh just tell me you were sick? Coulda came home and sat with you.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to ditch your best friend’s birthday dinner just because I was throwing up for the fifteenth time this week,” she was stern in her words and made it clear that she was fine.

“I’m alright. I promise.”

Harry’s jaw softened at her proclamation, the muscles in his torso easing up from their tense position.

“Oi! Will you two stop whispering and get drunk with me?!” Mitch shouted across the table, bursting the bubble that had temporarily surrounded the couple whilst they talked about their sweet little secret that they were dying to tell everyone about.

“You,” Mitch pointed his finger towards Y/N’s head.

“Shots. Now,” he gestured to the bartender making drinks on the opposite end of where their table was.

Both Y/N and Harry chuckled nervously, unsure of how to work around the fact that Y/N couldn’t drink without spilling the beans.

“Think I need to get some food in my stomach before I do that. Why don’t you take Harry,” Y/N urged Harry forward by his shoulder and prayed it would be enough to entertain the drunk boy.

“Fine,” Mitch glared.

“It’ll just make it hard for you to catch up later then!”

He grabbed Harry by the bicep and cleared through the crowd of people in order to get his liquor he was so keen about.

The conversation with Sarah was light, mostly about what all they’d done today and bets on if Mitch would end up needing to be babied for the rest of the night. Y/N successfully dodged Sarah’s questions about the wedding and how planning was going along, chalking it up to busy work schedules and failing to come to an agreement on a venue and date.

“Harry’s dead set on a summer wedding, but I’m fighting for a winter date,” she dismissed through a nervous chuckle when the reality was that they were unsure how to navigate planning a wedding around the arrival of their baby to make any more decisions.

It seemed like ages passed before the two men returned. Y/N was picking at the fries and sipping on the ginger ale Harry had ordered her before she’d gotten there but was interrupted when Harry and Mitch came barrelling back to the table.

He was drunk. Quite drunk. And Y/N knew that because his body felt even warmer and his eyes looked even hazier than before he’d left. She imagined they definitely had more than once shot at the bar, but she didn’t have much time to ponder that before she felt his hands snake around her waist and rest on her hips. She reciprocated his touch, looping her arms around his shoulders and laying her head against his chest.

“Love you,” Harry muttered into the soft spot between her jaw and ear, then his hands wormed their way under her shirt to rest on the underside of her tummy.

“Love you too,” he said again.

She could feel him smile against her skin as he cradled her almost non-existent baby bump from underneath her oversized sweater. Harry was the only one who saw her regularly enough to notice the minute changes her body had been going through. To everyone else, she still looked like plain, old Y/N.

“We love you more, but if you don’t stop canoodling me in the middle of this bar,” Y/N began, speaking light-heartedly and quietly in his ear, “Everyone’s going to find out and you won’t get to have that announcement party you’ve been planning for weeks now.”

Harry sighed, knowing she was right, and loosened his hold on her tummy and opting to sling an arm over her shoulder to at least keep her close instead.

“I know what you’re up to,” Mitch glared at the two of them from across the table.

This gained the attention of not only Y/N and Harry but Sarah as well. Everyone turned to look at Mitch, anticipating what he was going to say next.

“And what would that be, Mitchy?” Y/N toyed.

A pout formed on his face, arms quickly crossed his chest as he huffed.

“You’re trying to get out of here and leave me all alone on my birthday.”

“Guess I’m not even here then. I’m a hallucination,” Sarah baited with a roll of her eyes.

“We’re not trying t’ leave ya, mate. Promise,” Harry stuck his pinky out across the table as a gesture of sincerity.

“Are too.”

Mitch’s drunken rambles were beginning to sound quite childish now and became more amusing by the second.

“Are not, honey bun,” Y/N requited.

“Liars. Both of you.”

Mitch launched a bunched up straw wrapper in Harry’s direction that bounced off of his most prominent curl and landed somewhere near his feet.

“Where would we even go, hmm?” Harry taunted, resting his chin on the knuckles of his free hand that was leaned against the table.

“What could we possibly planned tha’ would be better than spending time with you lot on your birthday?”

They watched as Mitch’s remaining sobriety fought hard for an answer, but ultimately giving into his drunkness and murmuring, “Don’t know! Probably going off to screw each other or something!”

The table burst into laughter, and Y/N hid her face in Harry’s chest out of embarrassment. 

“Wouldn’t surprise me actually,” Sarah quipped before taking a huge sip of her cocktail.

“Look. Here’s the deal,” Mitch tried his best in his drunken stupor to be serious.

“Prove to me that you’re not gonna leave me and take another shot.”

“Fine,” Harry shrugged.

“Let’s go back t’ the bar then.”

He started to pull Mitch along but was stopped suddenly.

“No,” Mitch was quick to intervene.

“Y/N too. If you both drink, you can’t drive home and leave me,” he said proudly as if his idea was the smartest thing he’d ever come up with.

She knew it was only Mitch being sloppy drunk and acting like the idiot he always was, but Y/N couldn’t help but feel her palms begin to sweat. They couldn’t tell Mitch the real reason why she couldn’t drink with the group tonight, so she was quickly wracking her brain for another excuse now that she’d filled her belly with french fries since giving her last one.

But there was no need to think any further, as Harry stepped in for her.

“She can’t do tha’, mate. Now, c’mon. Let’s get some more tequila. Looks like Sarah needs another drink as well, hmm?”

Harry pinched his nose in annoyance. He was trying his hardest to keep this all under wraps, but Mitch was making it extremely difficult.

“Who are you? Her keeper? Telling her what she can and can’t do?” Mitch yelled.

“No, you nunce. She can’t drink because yeh can’t drink when you’re pregn-”

Fuck.

Harry clapped his hand over his mouth before he finished his sentence, but it was too late. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he said it. Wasn’t even sure if he was thinking at all, to be completely honest. He silently prayed that neither Mitch nor Sarah heard him, but he quickly realized that was untrue when they both stared between him and Y/N with wide eyes.

“Y/N L/N. Are you pregnant?” Sarah was the first to speak up.

Y/N felt like she was stuck in place, only able to look at Harry with a racing chest and her mouth agape. 

“I, um, I - yes?” It came out as more of a question due to her state of shock.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry. Holy shit,” Harry exclaimed as he went back to Y/N’s side to console her.

He was spiraling in fear that Y/N was angry with him, but it was mostly the alcohol making him think so.

“You’re having a baby?” Mitch’s voice was unusually quiet for how loudly he had been yelling just moments ago.

“Yeah. We are,” she was laughing nervously as she spoke.

“Sorry that Harry ruined the surprise. We wanted to have a big party and tell everyone at the same time, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag for you guys.”

She rubbed Harry’s back with her palm, a silent reassurance for Harry that she wasn’t upset with him. Mitch and Sarah, however, they couldn’t read.

Mitch said nothing, only leaving his position beside Sarah to go stand in between Y/N and Harry. He looked at them both with an expression that resembled both anger and confusion, which only added to their discomfort.

In a split second, he had his arms around both of them, hugging them tightly.

“Holy shit! This is the best birthday present ever. Uncle Mitch and Aunt Sarah. What the fuck?!” he was rambling now, beaming from ear to ear as he ran over to pull Sarah, who was also losing her shit, just in her own seat and not on top of Harry and Y/N, into the group hug.

Their eyes caught each other in the midst of the friend-sandwich they were being forced to be a part of. A smile and knowing look were exchanged between them and they knew, despite it not coming out in the most fashionable way, their precious little bub would be surrounded by people that loved them dearly.

[district2001]

Leader Maknae Date

Seventeen AU: 14th member

Jangmi x Seventeen (mainly Coups)

Recap: When Seungcheol whisks Jangmi away from practice to ask her a very important question

Words: 2k

Requests are OPEN: Please please please send me what you want to see from Jangmi. I’m also open to feedback :)

Jangmi’s Masterlist

“I swear to god if Hoshi Oppa makes us go through the dance one more time, I’m going to die.” Jangmi complained, as she flopped on the floor in the dance studio.

“If he starts complaining about how our jumping isn’t the same height, I will personally take one for the team and murder him.” Seungkwan agreed.

“You know I can hear you right?” Hoshi yelled from the speakers. Jangmi snickered, praying that he wouldn’t play their song again.

She loved the song, and thought Woozi had done a phenomenal job with it. Apparently the staff weren’t too thrilled though, hoping for something darker. But leader line had backed him up, with Hoshi calling the song ‘pop perfection.’

Her favourite section was her interchanging rap part with S.Coups, where the contrast in their tones was noticeable, yet blended together really well. Plus the dynamic of the maknae with the eldest would look quite cool in the music video.

She reached over towards her bag and grabbed her drink bottle. The room temperature water wasn’t the greatest thing to drink, but she was so thirsty she would probably have Minghao’s hot water without complaint.

After she emptied her bottle, Jangmi lay on top of her bag, closing her eyes to get some rest. She knew debuting would be hard, much harder than being a trainee, but she was exhausted. Between online school, group dancing lessons, private dancing lessons, rap lessons, song writing sessions, recording sessions… the list was never ending. She was barely getting 5 hours of sleep a day, and she needed as much as she could get to grow. She’d made a bet with Dino that she’d grow taller than Woozi, and she wasn’t willing to admit to defeat.

Her short nap was interrupted by someone clearing their voice above her. Opening one eye, she saw S.Coups newly dyed blonde hair looking over her.

“5 more minutes.” She whined, closing her eyes again.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

She opened both her eyes this time in confusion of why he was using his leader tone with her.

“Uhh. Yeah. Sure” She sat up, stretching out her hand. Seungcheol grabbed it, and pulled her up to her feet.

“I was thinking we could go grab a coffee?” Seungcheol asked as they walked out the practise room.

Jangmi didn’t know what he wanted to talk to her about, but she had a feeling it was serious, seeing the way he was avoiding her eyes.

“Yes of course.” She replied, fidgeting with her fingers.

They walked to the café in silence, with both of them trying to break it by trying to start a conversation, only for it to die down within a minute.

She was very aware that some bad news was going to be given to her at the café, and was mentally preparing her reaction in case he told her that she’d have to leave Seventeen.

Once they arrived at the café, Seungcheol had asked her to take a seat whilst he placed their order. She asked him for a water, and when he questioned her terrible choice, she explained that it was healthy and free.

While waiting for him to come back, she started playing around with the ring on her finger, a new unconscious habit she had adopted after being given the ring a few days ago. No formal ceremony, a staff member had just dropped it off in the middle of her dance practise with Jun.

She was brought out of her thoughts with Seungcheol plopping down the 2 drinks on the table- 1 lemonade and 1 chocolate Frappuccino. She raised her eyebrows at her leader, who smirked and placed the straw of the lemonade in his mouth. “Eunwoo said this was your favourite drink.”

Jangmi tried to hide her smile, knowing very well that she was not doing a good job.

She took a sip of her Frappé, before setting it down on the table. She knew he was trying to butter her up before breaking the bad news, but she wanted to hear it outright. Not sugar-coated in chocolate goodness.

“Is it ok if I ask you something?” Seungcheol asked tentatively.

“Of course.” Jangmi nervously smiled.

He cleared his throat again, before continuing. “How’s everything?”

Jangmi narrowed her eyes, “everything?”

“You know…” he signalled with his hands, “everything.”

“Good.” She nodded, waiting for him to continue speaking.

“Come on Jangmi, you’ve got to give me more than that.”

She chuckled, happy this awkward tension between them was slowly dissipating.

“It’s been good though. Honestly. It’s a lot of hard work, and I don’t think I can feel my feet at all right now. But it’s been fun. I’m learning a lot.” She smiled politely before adding “thank you for the opportunity.”

“Stop being so polite with me. Let’s go back to how we were before.” Seungcheol dismissed, taking another sip of his lemonade.

“How were we before exactly?” Jangmi cocked her head to the side, waiting for his response. Sure, she had spoken to him during her visits every holiday, but they hadn’t really spent much time together- and never one on one. There was no need to. He was busy leading the boys to debut, whilst she was just a random trainee who kept popping up every few months.

“I don’t know.” He struggled. “Not this awkward for sure.” They both giggled, glad that they both were acknowledging the tense atmosphere.

“Seriously though, I’m really enjoying working with you all. Plus you guys are so talented. Legit. Did you see Minghao’s freestyle dance the other day. I didn’t even think it was possible to be that flexible.”

Seungcheol chuckled, taking another sip of his drink.

“Don’t get me started on the vocals of this team. I heard Seungkwan and Seokmin singing the other day and I was mind blown. And then I found out that they were only messing around. How can they seriously be that good when they are taking the piss out of it.”

“Glad to know you think the team is talented!”

Jangmi smiled, “Of course you guys are. That’s why you’re debuting.”

“Why we’re debuting” Seungcheol corrected.

“Oh right! I’m sorry.” Jangmi bowed again, causing Seungcheol to get up slightly and smack her head.

She faked a pout and took another sip of her drink.

“Is everyone treating you well?”

She nodded. “Yeah. You don’t need to worry. I was friends with most of them before anyway.”

Seungcheol hummed before talking again. “I definitely think you transitioned well. Although, I feel slightly bad for stealing you away from Sungyeon. I saw her the other day and she told me that if any one of us made you upset, she’d come and hurt us.”

“She’s just very overprotective.” Jangmi giggled. She had been so busy with catching up that she barely had seen Sungyeon over the last few weeks. She missed her best friend. Maybe they could go out and get some food together. Well, Sungyeon could eat food whilst Jangmi would be stuck eating salad.

“Well, now you’ve got 13 more people to protect you.”

“I can protect myself, thank you very much.” Jangmi sassed back, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Somehow I don’t believe that.”

Jangmi leaned over the table. “Is it because I’m a girl.”

Seungcheol leaned over aswell, looking directly into her eyes. “No, it’s because you ran out of the recording booth the other day after seeing the cockroach.”

Jangmi’s eyes widened. “How’d you-”

“Sungyeon told me.” He smirked, whilst moving Jangmis’ glass away from her elbows. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Jangmi leaned back into her seat in defeat, crossing her arms.

“Stop pouting. That’s my thing.”

“I’m the maknae, I can pout as much as I want.”

“You’re such a child”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Do you always talk to your elders with such attitude?”

“Not the ones I respect.”

‘Ya!” Seungcheol raised his voice, before realising that he had perhaps spoken too loudly in the café.

Jangmi shone her victory smile, and grabbed her drink off the table.

“Is there any reason you asked to hang out with me?” She asked. After their little banter session, she was starting to doubt that she would be leaving the band. Her leader was too relaxed.

“I was getting to that”

“Well, today would be nice, considering we have more dance lessons in 20 minutes.”

���Oh shit!” Seungcheol jumped up from his seat. “Grab your drink, and we can talk the way back.”

Jangmi nodded, before following him out the door. Stopping to yell ‘thank you’ to the staff.

Walking back to the Pledis building, Jangmi noticed how the sun was starting to set. She would have stopped to take a picture, and send it back to her parents, but Cheol started talking at that moment.

“I just wanted to take this opportunity for you to tell me if you were unhappy.” Jangmi looked at him in confusion.

“Like if anyone was making you uncomfortable, or if you were having trouble fitting in. I don’t know you well enough to read your mind, and Vernon said that you’re pretty reserved, like him, so I just wanted to make sure. Even if some members take longer to warm up to you, they will eventually.” She looked over to him and smiled.

Taking that as a sign of reassurance, Seungcheol continued. “I just wanted you to know that it might take a little while for you to feel completely at home. Or as homely as one can feel when they’re literally on the opposite side of the world from their friends and their family. I feel homesick sometimes, even when my home’s just a few hours from here.”

“If anyone mistreats you for being in our team, by talking shit about you let me know, or any of the other members. Seriously. We all look out for each other. And I know it’ll take some getting used to, but you deserved a spot on this team. I’m not just saying it as a leader, but as a friend. And hopefully soon you’ll think of me as an older brother. I overheard you telling Jihoon how you’re an only child aswell. This team is more like a fami-”

Seungcheol abruptly stopped mid-sentence when he realised Jangmi wasn’t walking beside him.

He quickly turned around, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw she was only a couple of metres behind him, wearing a massive smile on her cheeks.

“What?” He asked, genuinely confused to why she had stopped walking. Considering she was the one who reminded him of rehearsal.

“Do you really mean that?” she asked so quietly, that he could barely make out her question. He walked over to her and pulled her into a hug, “of course.”

Jangmi smiled into his chest. She had brothers.

Previous: First Official Meeting

Next: Debut.

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker - Fuck you, Beck

Plot: You had been given strict orders, yet you couldn’t ignore Peter’s call for help, even if the boy was too stubborn to do so; and even if you can be the one needing help at the end.

At the team’s insistence, and as you father’s last will, you had tried. God, you really, really tried. You even told your mom to tell you to stay away – and she was one of maybe 3 people that could force you to do anything. But the moment the whole situation took a sharp left turn, and it seemed that Fury was willing to him fight hundreds of drones by himself – after your boyfriend was hit by a train?

Yeah, that was a solid ‘fuck you’ to the director, as your father had said.

Even your mother, who had been telling you to stay away and let him handle his problems, who had promised she would convince you not to get involved for the sake of Peter, was starting to threaten putting on the Rescue suit, and she didn’t like the Rescue suit. You were sure that if Tony was still alive the decision would have been taken a while ago, but you wanted to let him.

Because since the final battle, Peter had become distant. It didn’t matter if he assured you that he still loved you and wanted to be with you. Sometimes, you felt like your father’s memory would always haunt him when he looked at you. That was why you had let him go, that was why you thought it was a good idea for him to accomplish the mission without help, and that was why it took you so long to realize that he did need your help.

“Friday, how long?”

“29 minutes” the AI responded, and it always amazed you how your father could hear her with the wind rushing past him.

“Faster. Please”

“Of course, Miss Stark. May I remind you, that you cannot speak when you arrive. The cover is –“

“Yes, Fri. I remember”

The thing was, that Thaddeus Ross had strictly forbidden the Iron Man suit to be seen in the sky since your father’s death. Tony had already been a big problem for the man, and once the whole blip thing had been solved, Thaddeus had breathed down your necks until you had signed a document that promised to put down all the suits. Pepper, always the good woman, had insisted in letting a small division of suits for the protection, all automatics.

So that was what you were supposed you be, an automatic suit with no intelligent life that had to save your dumb boyfriend from a fight with drones.

London came into sight in a instant, and from up there you could see the destruction caused by Beck. The suit swayed dangerously as you lowered the speed, still not used to the armour. In fact, it was the third time you used it, because Tony had refused to put you in risk by using one.

But Peter was in danger, and you would do anything for him.

“Uh, you still there Friday?” you asked, not sure if the drones would interfere in any way.

“Always”

“How – how is Pete doing?”

“Karen is still in silent mode, but is reporting bruises and contusions, nothing fatal or severely damaging. However, it is advisable to get him to a hospital soon. His condition is not the best to be fighting Mr Beck, but he’s managing”

The thing was, that Karen was silent because of you, and you wanted to drown in a lake of guilt. Happy had called you when Peter entered the plane, and you had talked with him briefly. In that conversation, you had screamed, he had yelled and both had said things that you didn’t mean. Like, if he was more responsible he would have stopped it sooner. Or that you would probably disappoint your father with that attitude.

Your relationship hadn’t been the same, that was for sure, but if everything went good, you promised yourself to fix it before it was too late.

“Let me know if anything semi-critical occurs. Thanks”

By the corner of your eye, you saw Michelle and Ned running away with Happy. There was a boy you didn’t know with them, but you weren’t worried about them, because the bodyguard could hold a fight on his own, even against drones. People were screaming and running too, making it hard for you to focus on where you could land.

The idea of running away and saving Peter had been not second guessed, but now you started to realise why your mother preferred to use the Rescue Suit rather than you using Tony’s. Because your father saw the armour as a second skin, and even then, he had some difficulties moving around. You were new, being the air was cool, yet landing wasn’t going to be. You spotted a clean space between the top of the bridge and a fallen railing, so you decided that would be it.

The suit, however, decided otherwise.

It took you a while to stop fully, and you got the impression that you looked like a worm trying to escape from an apple. That the suit was too big meant you couldn’t calculate the distances well, so only one of your feet made it to the destination.

“Uh, Friday?” you called out for the AI, still holding yourself in the air. “Could you – could you steady me? Maybe?”

“I don’t think I understand your order” Friday’s voice came through the speaker. You were barely holding yourself up by the propulsors, one feet on the air.

“Yeah, sorry. Friday… can you, help me to get on the ground?” you asked, and as you did, you regretted it.

“Of course, miss Y/N. Protocol ‘old man needs his nap’ initiating.”

“No, wait – !”

Memories of Peter and you messing up with your father’s suit before the snap came back. He hadn’t really used since then, because he went with the nano one; so you couldn’t do anything as the protocol started, and you fell down to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

You were afraid, for a second, because you remembered you were in bridge and if you fell to the water you would be damned. The suit would be functioning again when it touched the ground, but you didn’t know when that would be.

If Peter ended up saving you instead, you swore you would drown yourself in the river, with suit and a chain.

The fall was cut short when the suit hit the edge a tunnel made of glass that you didn’t know existed. You weren’t aware that a hit with a suit of metal could hurt so much that it left you out of air, but it did. Miraculously, the glass didn’t break and you didn’t fall through, yet got stuck into a bit of embarrassing position.

Your head was facing one end of the bridge, one of your hands dangling from a broken glass and the other sprawled wide to the other side. Your legs were wide open, and you prayed to God that everything that you had screamed hadn’t been heard through the com.

“What the fuck is that?”

Moving as quick as a ton of metal let you, you rolled on your side and crunched on your knees, looking to where the voice came; and once more, your breath left your lungs.

Peter was in front of you, kneeling on the ground and with the worst appearance you had ever seen him. He had one of his eyes swollen shut, and the other was on its way. There was a trail of blood from his nose that dripped to the ground, and you observed in pain how it was slightly crooked. His lip, open, was bleeding too, and you didn’t bother in counting how many lacerations he had on his face. Ignoring how damn good he looked in the suit, you winced when you saw it open in different points.

He was holding his wrist protectively against his chest, almost curling around it, and you were tempted to drag Beck until he was kneeling and apologising.

“Is that – is that Iron Man?”

The faceplate of the ironman suit moved again, and a bunch of red screens appeared up when you saw Beck. He wasn’t what came to mind when you thought about a threat – if anything, it was the opposite. He was bruised to, but not as much as your boy.

If Friday hadn’t been son intelligent, your cover would have been blown up, because threats and insults flew through your mouth when you saw him. But none of them made it outside the suit; instead, Friday talked.

“This is ‘you messed with the wrong guy’ protocol” Friday talked, and the suit was in her control again. You sighed when she put you straight and relaxed against the metal. Never again. “If you’re hearing this, is because you’ve hurt one of Mr Stark kids, either Y/N, Morgan or Peter”

Beck looked as if he had seen a ghost, and since you didn’t have control of the suit anymore, it probably looked like; because it didn’t look like a messy octopus anymore. He backed away a few steps, and for the first time, you noticed the gun on his hand. He had a lose grip on it, but suddenly you got the whole picture; he had been threatening Peter with a gun, had pointed him with a gun.

Something you hadn’t felt since your father died took over, and you were aware of the possibility of losing Peter without apologizing. Of him dying not knowing you were proud of him, that you loved him.

You looked to Peter, who was already looking at you. That he had one eye closed didn’t let you read him like you usually did, but his eye bore into you through the metal. Friday talking became white noise in the background, and suddenly you were at the funeral again. Peter walking away without saying a word and avoiding you for weeks. That wasn’t how things were supposed to end.

If there was something that differentiated you from your father, was that you were much less talkative that him.

“ – so it might be of your best interest to –“

Friday stopped abruptly when you raised the hand of the suit and fired. Beck was thrown backwards, so far that he actually hit the other side of the bridge. Even Peter, who was busy looking at you, jumped at the sudden action. Everything was silent for a second, besides the screams and the buzz of your ears. You wished that, maybe, the next sound would be the sound of someone moving, or Friday alerting you from movement.

“No pulse detected. Threat eliminated”

The sight of the bridge became blurry, and you felt like the suit was closing around you. You had killed, without asking questions or knowing a man. You had killed because of a sudden outburst of anger, and there was a death corpse a few feet in front of you. You started breathing as if air was missing, and your body became lax in the suit. Friday had a brief second of release and then took control again. While you tried not to die from a panic attack inside the suit, Peter got up and walked closer to the suit.

The boy stepped up until he was face to chin with the suit, and squinted his eyes. There was nothing that could be seen from the outside; still, Peter didn’t move.

“Mr Stark would like to remind you to stay safe, Peter” Friday talked, although Peter wasn’t listening to hear really. Besides all the pain he was in, there was another fact that worried him. “There will always be a place for you at the Stark’s house, so if you’re still listening, please call any adult that might be of assistance in –“

“Friday?” Peter asked, hesitant. His voice was small and weak, almost like a breath. “Is there anyone inside the suit?”

“This is an automatic suit ready to protect, Peter” Friday started. “According to the deal with Thaddeus Ross, this is part of an elite of suits destinated to protect citizens”

“That’s not what I asked, Fri” Peter sighed.

It seemed as if wheels were turning inside Peter’s head. He alternated between looking at the faceplate and the arc reactor. You didn’t get to see the scrunching of his face that you thought of so adorable and cute, because you were too busy trying to get away from the suit. It didn’t let you move your arms, or feet, and the automatic mood didn’t let you flex the limbs. Besides, making an order to open the suit seemed like something impossible.

So you missed the few minutes that took Peter to understand that an automatic suit wouldn’t be making those quiet distress noises that he could hear with his super hearing. Once he realised, and made sure no one was around chocking to death, he proceeded wrap his arms around the suit neck.

“Peter, I have to warn you to step away. I’m not able to take you home, but can provide you someone to do so” Friday talked, but didn’t move and Peter practically hung from the suit’s neck. “Would you like me to call –“

Friday stopped talking as the suit fell to the ground, the parts failing apart in a mess of metal broken pieces. Peter thanked his lab sessions, and that Tony had taught him how to disable a suit in case someone used it against him.

He caught himself in his knees and hands, wincing when another hit was delivered to his body. He was sure that he had broken bones that he didn’t know existed.

Peter wasn’t surprised when your body followed next, and was ready to catch you and tuck you against his shoulder. You had curled into a ball around yourself, and was too busy breathing fresh air to notice Peter.

You weren’t as talkative as your father, but you had inherited the panic problem. You weren’t sure when it started; maybe the third time you were kidnapped or the fifth that someone tried to kill you, but they were frequent and bad. Killing someone for the first time was enough excuse to have one of those, you guessed.

So you didn’t really register your surroundings, not that Peter wasn’t supposed to be touching you or that the suit was not longer around you. Only that you had to calm yourself.

Peter didn’t say anything, just held you. He ended up rocking you lightly, having fallen onto his butt and wrapped around yourself as much as you around him. It didn’t worry him that someone would find him without the mask, or the destroyed Iron Man suit, because the place Beck had chosen to hide was pretty good. He only focused on not mimicking your state and keeping calm.

Finally, you stopped panicking. You untangled your head from Peter’s shoulder and his hand stopped caressing your head. He seemed to tense by the movement, but relaxed once you were face to face.

Close up, he looked even worse. His eye was red rimmed, there were bags under his eyes and his smile was the most fake thing you had seen on him. Still, he was trying not to sob himself out in front of you, so you smiled for the both of you.

“I’m sorry” you said, not wanting to wait another second. “I didn’t meant what you said, I’m so, so, proud of you. And you’re doing it amazing, I promise. You’re – you’re the best superhero ever, and I’m sorry I said those things. And that I didn’t try harder, because, uh, because I need you and –“

“I’m sorry too” he chuckled, cutting you off with a kiss. The hand that was still resting on the back of your head pulled you closer until you could crash your lips, and he squeezed his eye shut.

“How did you know?” you asked, once he let go. “That – that it wasn’t Friday”

“There is no way Friday let out that scream when falling over” Peter’s face softened. “And I could hear you. From inside the suit”

You hummed and, for a second, let yourself forget about the situation around you. Your head went back to where it belonged, to the space between Peter’s head and shoulder. You didn’t know who needed more, because Peter hugged you tighter and you heard a faint sob leave his lips.

“Thanks for saving me” he talked again, and chuckled wetly. “Although I must say your father managed the suit much better”

“Yeah, I think we’re even” you smiled and pressed your lips to his skin. You felt the gossebumps raise there, and you repeated the action. “Let’s not do this again. You’re coming with me to the lake house for a real vacation. And I don’t care what May says”

“She will be happy to have the apartment for herself and Happy” Peter joked.

Somewhere, far away, you heard the first sirens showing up. SHIELD would be there shortly, and you would have to face a very angry Thaddeus Ross in your way home. Not to talk about Peter, who probably had a bunch of explanations to give. Still, the moment was yours, and neither of you moved. You decided to keep solving the problem that had brought you to the situation itself.

“And you?” you asked, and felt as confident as when you were landing with the suit. “Will you be happy? If you, uh, come to the lake house? Because if you don’t feel like it it’s okay”

You felt rather than heard Peter sigh, and he pulled you back to look at you in the eyes. He looked far more relieved than before, and had a more real smile than before. The hand at the back of your head moved to cup your cheek, and rub its finger against your cheekbone.

“I’ve been kind of an ass” he chuckled and looked down, to where your legs were tangled together. “But that hasn’t changed, I’ll be happy wherever you are, because I kind of love your clumsy ass too much”

You smacked his shoulder minding possible injuries and leaned again for a kiss. It was slower, even if you didn’t have time to do so. In a minute, the rest of your problems would be knocking down your door and dragging you away from Peter.

But thankfully, it seemed like your bigger problem had fixed itself.

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[godsporncollection]

Sunday GC Sessions Summary

(long version) (personal commentary in parenthesis)

M Russell Ballard

List of how the second coming is described followed by a huge list of the very obvious things wrong with the world right now. 

We pray for you. 

Remember to pray. Pray lots, and for lots of people, because the leaders of the world need divine inspiration. 

Quotes the lord's prayer. 

Pray for everyone, even people you don't like. 

(Do deaf people sign their prayers, when praying alone? What about when they pray in small, maybe family, groups?) 

Prayer will help us by making feel better. 

Pray everywhere you go. 

Personal story of being in pain from a surgery on the hand; prayer helped the pain.

Lisa L Harkness

Story of a child jumping into a lake and feeling she needed help, even though she was safe. Sometimes we do this too, because we can't see that we are safe with god. 

Biblical story of JC falling asleep in the boat that entered a storm and the disciples got scared and asked him to save them. 

Recent events can leave us feeling lost and afraid, but we should have faith in god.

Ulisses Soares

Seek JC in every thought and follow him with all our heart. 

Metaphor of magnet + metal object. Magnetic force holds objects tightly, but looses that power when the object is far away. 

Temptation will fade when we continue to resist it. 

JC told JS when in prison "let thy bowels also be full of charity towards all men and women, and to the household of faith, and let virtue garnish thy thoughths unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of god. The holy ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth." 

If you fall into temptation, there is hope. 

Story of friend who fell into temptation. He was sad. 

Prodigal son story.

Carlos A Godoy

I believe in angels. They're important. Some are here on earth. I'm gonna talk about those. 

I converted at 16, after two angels (sister missionaries) introduced me to the gospel at a church activity. 

I met another angel at youth conference. Her squad became my squad. 

Then I met two other angels; my seminary teacher and young men president. 

"Thanks to all these angels and many others I encountered during those important early years, I received enough srength to remain on the covenant path as I gained a spiritual witness of the truth." 

"Please, please do not give up on your efforts to be part of this big family. It is the true church of JC. When it comes to your happiness and salvation, it is always worth the effort to keep trying. It is worth the effort to adjust your lifestyle and traditions. The lord is aware of the challenges you face. He knows you, he loves you, and I promise he will send angels to help you."

Neil L Andersen

Jc's resume. 

"A recent study revealed that in the last 10 years, 30 million people in the US have stepped away from believing in the divinity of JC. Looking worldwide, another study predicts that in the decades ahead, more than twice as many will leave christianity than those who will embrace it." 

Use the correct name of the church and talk about JC more. We have to talk more about JC because the world is talking about him less.

Russell M Nelson

'Israel' means 'let god prevail'. 

Israel's descendants stoned the prophets. (...) 

My grandkid's wife was sad that her father was dying, but I told her she was being near-sighted. She felt better after looking at the big picture of god's plan. 

I greive for black people. 

(I can't listen to any more of this asshole, sorry.)

AFTERNOON SESSION 

Henry B Eyring

"My hope is to give encouragement when life seems especially difficult and uncertain. For some of you, that time is now. If not, such a time will come." 

Personal story of pulling weeds as a child and the frustration of the weeds breaking instead of coming out. Mother said "oh, Hal, of course it's hard; it's supposed to be. Life is a test." 

Story of us choosing to come to earth and satan disagreeing and getting followers. "Now, he tries to cause as many as he can to turn away from god during this mortal life." In the spirit world, we must have decided that whatever hardships we were going to face, "the forces of good would be overwhelmingly greater." 

Two quotes that say that god will be with us, and will help us, even in our darkest hours. 

God occasionally shows me the next couple of steps, but never a glimpse of the far future. 

Also, we need to help others. 

Another story of mother, who "all her life, she felt effects of the trials of illness. In her last 10 years of life, she required multiple operations. But through all, she proved faithful to the lord." "The last speaker [at her funeral] was elder Spencer W Kimball. After saying something of her trials and her faithfulness, he said essentially this: 'some of you may wonder why Mildred had to suffer so much and so long. I will tell you why. It was because the lord wanted to polish her a little more."

Jeremy R Jaggi

My youngest brother died two years ago. "We found comfort in the words of elder Neil L Anderson in general conference the week before Chad died: 'In the crucible of earthly trials, patiently move forward, and the savior's healing power will bring you light, understanding, peace, and hope.'" We'll be with him again, but losing him hurt. 

James 1:2. 

We thought 2020 would be all joy. Shit happened, but we're determined to see joy in this year anyway. 

Chapter 6 of 'Preach My Gospel'. 

"Blessed are the meek (etc)". 

Many unsourced quotes saying that the more you seek/follow/believe in JC, the happier you will be. 

Daughter, Emma, is a missionary. "[Emma] asked us to connect [online] with friends she was teaching [in the Netherlands]... We invited them to join our weekly online... study... All have become our friends." They've all converted. 

Nelson recently said "Voluntary fast offerings from our members have increased, as well as voluntary contributions to our humanitarian funds." 

"My brother Chad's passing came just a few months after our release from presiding over the Utah Ogden mission... Of all the 417 missions we could have been assigned to, we were assigned to... a 30-minute drive to Chad's home. Chad's cancer was diagnosed after we received our mission assignment. Even in the most trying circumstance, we knew that our heavenly father was mindful of us."

Gary E Stevenson

I was serving a mission in Japan. Kimball was speaking in Tokyo. I wanted to go. It was a long commute, so the mission president said no, but the rest of the branch went, so we were alone. Kimball announced a temple in Tokyo. I was disappointed to miss it. 

This is like the even deeper disappointment people today experience due to covid. 

How do we move forward? Consider the first verse of the BoM. 

Wife and I met online with many missionaries who still managed to do lots of ministering, despite covid restrictions. 

Think of "JS, languishing in Liberty Jail, feeling abandoned and forsaken, then hearing the words of the lord: 'these things shall be for thy good' and 'god shall be with you forever.'" 

"We, too, can draw parallels, as individual members and as a church, in the way in which we have been highly favored of the lord during the challenging times we have encountered during the past several months." 

"Let [these examples] strengthen your testimony of the seership of our living prophet, who prepared us with adjustments before any hint of a pandemic, enabling us to endure the challenges that have come." 

List of ways that we have been told to prepare. 

Story of a young woman who was just barely able to go to the temple right before leaving for her mission.

Milton Da Rocha Camargo

Gave his entire backstory before getting around to the topic: prayer. 

"An important part of heavenly father's plan is the opportunity to communicate with him anytime we want." 

"Every one that asketh, receiveth (etc)." 

"Recording our impressions is an important part of receiving. It helps us recall, review, and re-feel what the lord is teaching us." 

I like it when I have strong feelings after praying, but, more often, we're likely to hear the "still, small voice of the lord whispering to our mind and heart, 'I am here. I love you.'" 

"Revelation often comes when we are in the act of doing good."

Dale G Renlund

Can I be a better person? 

And "how can I, as a flawed person, qualify to 'dwell with god in a state of never-ending happiness'?" 

"Good deeds are not sufficient. Salvation is not earned... Left to our own devices, the prospect of returning to live in god's presence is hopeless. Without the blessings that come from heavenly father and JC, we can never do enough or be enough by ourselves... Because of and through JC, we can become enough." 

"We can be redeemed and stand clean and pure before god" by the ordinances of the gospel. 

"Do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy god." 

*Jewish appropriation* 

Story of someone who had to remind someone "Dr. Jones, you became a physician to care for people and work to heal them. You didn't become a physician to judge them [on a self-infilcted wound]. If you don't understand the difference, you have no right to train at [Johns Hopkins Hospital, Baltimore, MD]." 

Don't think you're above others. 

"To be christlike, a person loves mercy... gracious, kind and honorable. These individuals treat everyone with love and understanding, regardless of characteristics such as race, gender, religious affiliation, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status, and tribal, clan, or national differences."

Kelly R Johnson

Story of daughter who set the microwave to cook [instead of timer] for 30 min. It caught on fire. This is because microwaves need something in them to absorb the energy. 

"Our entire microwave went up in flames and burned because there was nothing on the inside. Likewise, those who have faith and the word of god deep in their hearts will be able to absorb and overcome the fiery darts which the adversary will surely send to destroy us." 

(As someone raised with a fire extiniguisher in the kichen, I feel the sudden urge to suggest this to anyone with children) 

(I have no idea what else he said because he used the word 'power' 34 times in his short talk, and it lost all meaning)

Jeffrey R Holland

Covid sucks and it's going on too long. 

We want to know when our struggles will be over. 

I'm now speaking about "those who would like to be married and aren't or who are married and with their marriage were a little more celestial. I speak of those who have to deal with the unwanted appearance of a serious medical condition, perhaps an uncurable one. Or face a life long battle with a genetic defect that has no remedy. I speak of the continuing struggle with emotional and mental health challenges that weigh heavily on the souls of so many who suffer with them and on the hearts of those who suffer with them. I speak of the poor, whom the savior told us never to forget. I speak of you, waiting for the return of a child no matter what the age, who has chosen a path different from the one you prayed he or she would take." Plus economic, political,and social concerns. 

Your prayers "are heard and they are answered, though perhaps not at the time or in the way that we wanted." They'll be answered when and how god thinks they should be. 

We shouldn't ask for a stress-free life; struggles make us worthy to live with god.

Russell M Nelson

"We live in a glorious age, foreseen by prophets for centuries... Despite the world's commotion, the lord would have us look toward the future with joyful anticipation... The gathering of Israel moves forward. The lord JC directs the affairs of his church and it will achieve it's divine objectives. The challenge for you and me is to make certain that each of us will achieve his or her divine potential." 

Let JC be your 'new normal' by "repenting daily. Seek to be increasingly pure in thought, word, and deed. Minister to others. Keep an eternal perspective. Magnify your callings. And... live each day so that you are more prepared to meet your maker." 

Six new temples: Tarawa, Kiribati; Port Vila, Vanuato; Lindon, Utah; Greater Guatamala; Sao Paulo East, Brazil; and Santa Cruz, Bolivia.

[deanothecheynosaur]

The Bear and the Nightingale (2017)

Yay first one! (Whether you read the long synopsis or not, the ranking is at the bottom)

Funny story before I get into it: so my boyfriend's brother bought me this book in paperback for Christmas. I had not started reading it yet, but I was checking my Kindle to see how many books I read in 2019 and saw that I had purchased this a while back, never got around to reading it, and forgot I had it. So I'm taking back the paperback as soon as his blizzard is over (which oddly fits the book) and bought the second and third on Kindle. I have another gift card, but I need all three books to be in the same format.

Short synopsis:

Vasya is a young girl in a small village northern Rus' who can see things others can't. Everyone thinks she's a witch. The frost demon Morozko watches and protects her to keep himself strong enough to contain the Bear. An epic story about the clash between the old religions & the domineering Christianity & about the sexism of the time.

Long synopsis:

Moving on. Our story opens in Northern Rus' in the remote village of Lesnaya Zemlya bordering a large forest with the family of Pyotr Vladimirovich, his wife Marina Ivanovna, and their children Kolya (Nikolai Petrovich), Sasha (Aleksandr Petrovich), Olya (Olga Petrovna), Alyosha (Aleksei Petrovich), a bun in the oven, and their nurse, Dunya (Darya Nikolaevna). There's some important backstory though. Marina is the daughter of Ivan I Grand Prince in Moscow and his third wife, a mysterious woman who wandered out of the woods with no family, no history, and many suspected she was a witch. Marina knew it would be her last child and it would be a girl like her mother. This is set during the late 13th century, after Genghis Kahn died while the Tatars were still dominating the area. But Marina was right. She died in childbirth delivering Vasya (Vasilisa Petrovna). Throughout the book, there are hints that everyone but Sasha blames Vasya a little for Marina dying.

Vasya grows up naughty and ugly, with huge green eyes, black hair with a hint of red, a mouth too big for her face, long limbs, and too skinny. Olya calls her "little frog." Vasya does whatever she wants: Dunya is old, Pyotr is a busy man between being the Lord of the area and a farmer, and she has no stepmother. One evening, Vasya gets lost in the forest and sees a one-eyed man sitting against a gnarled black oak tree she had never seen before. He was uber creepy. But then another man shows up on his horse, refers to the one-eyed man as Medved, and tries to talk to Vasya. She gets scared and runs, but neither man pursues her. After she gets home (still freaking out), Pyotr decides it's time to remarry before Vasya gets unmanageable. He takes Kolya and Sasha with him to Moscow to find himself a wife and Olya a husband. It's mentioned several times throughout how a character cleans the ice out of their horse's hooves or mane, which I think is a great addition because it really solidifies the time period by how important horses were to everybody. Once they are settled in Moscow, Sasha spends time with other devout Christians (he prays a lot) and discovers that there is a renowned holy man (Sergei Radoneshsky) at a monastery three days north of Moscow. Pyotr lets him go alone to meet the man. Once Sasha gets there, he decides he wants to be a monk at this monastery and goes back to Moscow to ask his father. Pyotr agrees on two conditions: 1. Sasha cannot join the order or speak to Father Sergei until after the next harvest; 2. Sasha will be disinherited. Which honestly I think is fair.

A minor character that sets a lot of major things in motion is the Metropolitan of Moscow, Aleksei. Took me a minute to figure out that that means he's a bishop. Anyway, basically his job is really to deal with problems that might hurt the future of the current family ruling. Initially, he lines up marriages: Olya to a lesser prince that could have a claim to the throne of he married higher, and Pyotr to the Grand Prince's mad daughter, Anna Ivanovna. She saw demons everywhere except the church, so she wanted to be a nun. Of the two arranged marriages, the latter was less necessary in the initial context but crucial to rest of the plot. On their way back home, they run into a strange man, slight in stature but moves too quickly to see with pale skin, curly black hair, and icy blue eyes. He admires Pyotr's horse and Kolya is a dick to him about it, so the man has a knife to his throat. To save Kolya, Pyotr must give a necklace with a bright sapphire stone in it to Vasya to keep with her always. Kolya forgets the encounter altogether and wonders about the white scars on his neck... Pyotr is nervous about he necklace, so he gives it to Dunya. Dunya doesn't want to spoil her, so she decides to keep it for a while. Then she starts having one of several dreams in which she is confronted about keeping what is not hers.

After Sasha and Olya leave to be a monk and marry, respectively, Vasya spends less time with people. We soon learn that she can see creatures, the spirits from the old fairy tales Dunya told. Except they're real. Vasya is not crazy, and neither is Anna, but Anna is too Christian to be cool about it. Plus, Anna is a mean stepmother, strongly preferring her own daughter, Irina Petrovna. Vasya soon befriends the domovoi who lives in the oven and protects the house. Vasya doesn't realize her family can't see these creatures, so she talks to the vazila, the spirit of the horses who guards the stables. He says that she and Anna are the only people who can see them. Vasya thinks the stables are safer, so she visits the vazila often. He teaches her to speak to horses and understand them.

Then our friend Aleksei the Metropolitan does his last bit of manipulation. There is a priest in Moscow who is very good looking and gifted at painting icons. Aleksei is concerned that this will cause too many disruptions, so when the priest up in Lesnaya Zemlya dies, he sends the pretty priest, Father Konstantin Nikonovich, up there to take his place. I've never hated a fictional character so much in my life. Vasya is talking to the rusalka, a river demon who lives off of consuming the fears and desires of various animals and humans, killing them in the process. She goes for men a lot. Vasya unfortunately stops her from killing Father Konstantin. He immediately dislikes Vasya, thinking her too bold and not pious enough. Anna is obsessed with Konstantin because priests are her favorite and this is a hot one.

As time goes on, Vasya gets less and less like a lady should be, which infuriates Konstantin, but he's also having impure thoughts about her, which infuriates him in other ways. Anna and Konstantin try to convince everyone that if they continue to leave offerings for the old spirits, they will go to Hell. But shortly after, the village faces all the hardships. Freezing cold. Food shortage. People dying from the temperature. Wolves eating livestock. And then the crops flood. What survives the flood in the spring burns in the summer. Konstantin tells everyone that God is testing their faith, meanwhile Vasya is trying to sneak offerings and keep people alive. She also learns how to ride horses. Pyotr betrothes her to a Lord/horse breeder from a few towns over, Kyril Artamonovich. He's an oblivious ass. When he finds out she can ride, he calls off the wedding and leaves. Konstantin convinces Anna that Vasya somehow will get Irina killed, so when Pyotr leaves town, Anna tries to get rid of Vasya, either by death or by hog-tying her and taking her to a convent. Anna tells Vasya that she can stay if she finds snowdrops (the flower) in the forest (it's midwinter). Vasya takes off to find some, deciding worst case scenario, she would rather die in the forest than in a convent. She ends up at the gnarled black oak from her childhood, and the one-eyed man is still there. He tries to grab her, but the same man on horseback swoops in and saves her. He takes her back to his "house" to rest. She shortly finds out that he is Morozko, the god of winter and death. The one-eyed man is his brother, Medved, the Bear, the god of fear and suffering. Morozko has had him bound for a few hundred years, but with the offerings decreasing, Medved's strength is increasing. Morozko is known to be a trickster and a lavish gift-giver. Among other things, he gives Vasya a horse called Solovey (Russian for Nightingale), a young bay colored stallion who is not quite as mortal as your average horse. He also gives Vasya some snowdrops so that she may go home, but when she arrives, things are not how she left them. This is where we hit the climax, and I'm not giving away the ending. ����

I'm very into folklore and old religions, I love forests, and Russian history is so long and colorful that it's been a fascination of mine for a while. Plus, ice stories interest me, maybe because my birthday is frequently cold and icy. So this was a great book for me to read. It's also clear how well-researched it is, as well as spelling things so that an English speaker would still be saying it with the Russian pronunciation.

On a scale of 1-5, I give it a 4.5. It would be higher but so many characters were unlikeable.

[shan282-ao3]

The Devil Has Come Ch1

Originally posted on Archive of Our Own [x]

Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Far Cry 5 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/Jacob Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/Joseph Seed Characters: Original Female Character(s), John Seed, Jacob Seed, Joseph Seed, Faith Seed, Staci Pratt, Nick Rye, Sharky Boshaw, Female Deputy | Judge (Far Cry), Original Male Character(s), Kim Rye, Boomer (Far Cry), Joey Hudson, Earl Whitehorse Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Torture, Fluff, Minor Character Death, Recreational Drug Use, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Character Death, Slow Burn Series: Part 1 of Bottom of The River

Summary: They should never have been there. Whitehorse and Pratt were right when they spoke against going to Eden's Gate. They should have left The Project alone. They'd started something and there was no going back now. The lamb had broken the first seal and the deputy had been helpless to stop her. Read Below:

Sarah looked over at the new deputy who sat beside her in the helicopter, her eyes glued to her phone screen. She leaned across the seat between them to see what she was watching, frowning slightly when she saw it was about The Project. She’d been a deputy in Hope County for nearly two years and she didn’t care much for The Project. She had no major issues with them, they were mostly nonviolent unless provoked and didn’t cause too many problems, but the department was constantly getting calls about them. She was getting really fucking tired of having to drive all over the place to break up fights that people were starting with its members.

She hadn’t met The Father personally, only seen him in the same video her partner was watching and heard about him from various people in the county. No one had much nice to say about him, but there wasn’t a lot of evidence to prove he’d been doing anything seriously illegal. The department had unanimously agreed to leave him and his flock alone, they didn’t have enough people to go against them and, again, there really wasn’t a lot of evidence to build a solid case. They’d all agreed that if they wanted to stay alive, they wouldn’t fuck with Joseph Seed.

Apparently, however, the US Marshal had a different idea about how to deal with the cult, fucking prick. He’d marched into the station that afternoon and immediately launched into some kind of tirade, calling them all complacent idiots. He’d even suggested that they were in bed with the cult which was fucking absurd. Not that Sarah wouldn’t love to be in bed with any of the Seed brothers, but that was different.

Sarah scoffed at Burke’s dismissive attitude towards Whitehorse’s warnings and focused her attention on the ground below. Nancy’s voice crackled over the dispatch and she glanced up, her eyes on Whitehorse across from her. A smirk pulled at her lips at Pratt’s teasing of the rookie and she turned to her. “Staci’s a bit of a cunt, but I’m sure you’ve figured that out already.” Her smirked widened into a full on grin at the offended sound she got out of Pratt.

A chill ran up her spine as they landed at the compound, the atmosphere inside the helicopter was filled with nerves. She waited for the order before climbing out of the aircraft.

“Lamb, stick close to the rookie,” Whitehorse ordered before they all climbed out and Sarah nodded, matching her strides with the smaller woman.

She didn’t say anything to the rookie, there wasn’t anything she could say to make the situation less terrifying. They followed wordlessly behind the Marshall, Whitehorse, and Hudson, only stopping once they’d gotten to the church. Sarah looked around slightly wide-eyed at the Peggies moving around them, angry shouts and worried conversations reaching her ears. But above all the noise of the cult’s indignation at their being there, there was singing and it was entrancing. She caught herself humming quietly along while Whitehorse and the Marshall argued about how to approach the situation.

“Rookie, Lamb on me,” Whitehorse ordered before turning back to the Marshal.

Sarah took a shaking breath as the doors opened and turned to the rookie. “We’ll be fine.” She told her, though it was mostly to calm her own nerves.

The church was warm, disgustingly warm from so many bodies being in a small space together. Despite this, she felt her blood run cold as Joseph’s voice drifted down the pews to her. She’d heard him speaking before in broadcasts but in the flesh it was different. She could see why people joined, his voice, while it terrified her, also left her with a sense of calm, like he and he alone knew all the answers to every question she could even think of. She wanted to shout at Burke to stand down, to leave Joseph and his flock in peace, but she stayed frozen, just watching.

Her eyes, darting to every moving figure, met John’s to the left of Joseph and she held his gaze for a beat too long before redirecting her attention back to Joseph. John was even prettier up close, fuck Addie for getting all those horrid thoughts about him stuck in her head. As Joseph stepped forward and his brothers moved across the stage she caught John’s eyes again and held his gaze this time as Joseph continued speaking, only looking away once the rest of the Peggies had left the church. Her hand stayed resting on her holstered 1911.

Joseph’s voice, raised and slightly manic-sounding, set her hair on end. “I saw when the Lamb opened the First Seal, and I heard, as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts say, come and see…” A chill fell over the room, Burke’s voice interrupting the crushing stillness that Joseph had left. “And I saw, and behold it was a white horse… and Hell followed with him.” His eyes were fixed on the rookie now.

“Rookie— cuff this son of a bitch.” Sarah almost flinched at Burke’s harsh tone.

“God will not let you take me,” Joseph said, his voice menacing and concrete and his hands outstretched. She looked over at the rookie, uncertain if the other woman would follow through with the arrest. She honestly wasn’t sure if she would if she had the cuffs. He looked between the two of them and something about him screamed safety. A part of Sarah desperately wanted to grab his outstretched hands and hide behind his siblings where no one could ever hurt her, where she’d be safe until the end of her days.

A minute passed before the rookie cuffed him, Sarah was certain Whitehorse was going to tell them to turn back but instead the next thing she knew they were walking him out for the church. Sarah cast one last look behind her at the brothers before she followed behind Joseph and the rookie, her nerves building at the downright murderous look on Jacob’s face. They walked quickly towards the helicopter and she felt an overwhelming sense of dread and she was sure it showed.

Peggies swarmed the chopper once they were in and she fought to get them off as one grabbed at her leg. She kicked and kicked until a blow finally landed on the woman’s face and she fell back towards the ground below them. Through all the panicked shouting Joseph’s voice reached her and she froze, staring at him as he sang Amazing Grace, his face pointed towards the sky. As they plummeted towards the ground, his overwhelming calmness as he kept singing was an anchor and she felt a bit of her panic drain. They would be fine, they would all be fine.

The first thing Sarah felt was a thundering pain in her head and it nearly drowned out Joseph’s singing. She blinked and bit back a groan as she turned to look across from her. Joseph’s attention was focused solely on the rookie, his voice terrifyingly calm as he spoke to her. She gasped in shock at Nancy’s voice over the dispatch, it explained a lot actually but her head was too fogged to process much more than that.

She reached up, groping for the clasp on her seatbelt while he was speaking to his flock. She knew they had to get out, she had to run. That overwhelming panic was back and her breathing came short and fast as she struggled to unlock the belt, her head jerking between Joseph and the rookie.

Panic spread like a wildfire and soon everyone in the helicopter was struggling to escape. Sarah gasped as her clasp released and she fell to the ground, Hudson’s screams filling the air as they dragged her from the chopper. She managed to right herself and climbed out past the rookie and Burke, stopping once she was out.

“Burke!” Sarah shouted after him, furious that he would just leave them like that. “Come on rookie we gotta go.” Her voice was shrill as she watched the rookie struggle with the clasp. Finally, it released and she dropped to the ground, clumsily climbing out. She yanked the rookie to her feet and then looked across the helicopter in fear when the Peggies noticed they’d escaped. “We need to run. Now!” She violently pulled the rookie forward, fear driving her as she sprinted through the woods. She let go of the other as they ran, her breath coming hard and fast as she jumped over logs and dodged low branches. Angry shouting chased her as she ran and drowned out everything else around her.

She spotted a place for cover and slid into it, cowering behind the log and trying to make herself a small as possible. Heavy footfalls passed and she held her breath as she waited for them to disappear. Finally, once it had gotten quieter she turned to look at her companion and froze, whatever she’d been about to say dying on her tongue. The rookie was gone. How could she have lost her, she’d been right there the whole time Sarah had been certain.

The crackled of Burke over her radio snapped her out of her panic and she immediately slammed her hand over the speaker and violently twisted the dial off, praying to a god she barely believed in that no one had heard it. She stayed in her spot, arms wrapped around her knees, and looked at the ground below for a few minutes before tears started streaming down her face. God she was fucked, so fucking fucked.

Sarah clutched her knees harder when she heard distant gunfire and hid her face between them as silent sobs wracked her body. She looked like a deranged mess. She should have just stayed home today. She missed her bed and her cat. She wanted her blankets back and her scented candles and reruns of Friends. She just wanted to go home.

She stayed there until well after her tears had stopped and her ragged breathing returned to something somewhat normal. The sky that she could see through the trees was starting to get lighter, she knew she should find somewhere safer before the sun rose. Moving was an effort, she grunted in pain and her bones cracked back into place, her joints popped at the sudden change in position. Pratt would have laughed and made a Rice Krispies joke if he were there.

Pratt! God, she’d forgotten about Pratt. She’d been so focused on getting out she didn’t see what happened to him. She really hoped he’d gotten away but something in her brain told her he hadn’t. Even if he had he was as dead as she was.

Finally, she stood from her spot and began moving slowly through the underbrush, staying crouched and stopping every so often to catch her breath or stop her head from spinning. Her entire body ached but her head was practically screaming in pain. Everything was foggy and she could feel her blood pulsing through her body. If she were to hazard a guess, she most likely had a concussion and based on the pain in her left ribcage at least a few bruised ribs.

A cabin finally into view and she let out a shaking sigh of relief. Safety. At least for now, somewhere she could lay low until she’d had time to lick her wounds and get back out there. Sarah felt hope flare in her chest and let herself get reckless, leaving her cover and moving as quickly as she could manage towards the cabin.

She was nearly at the door when an arm wrapped around her waist and dragged her back. She tried to scream but she was thrown to the ground, the air leaving her lungs. She sputtered and coughed as a Peggie came into view above her, his features were violent and twisted. “Fucking sinner.” He spat and surged forward, his hands clamped around her throat and squeezed.

Sarah struggled in his grip, her lungs screaming as she clawed at his hands to try to get him to let up. She kicked at him, kneeing his stomach over and over but all she got was pained grunts and his hands tightening. In a last-ditch effort, she flung her arms around her, grabbing for something, anything. Her hands grasped at a rock, small but heavy, and using what strength she had left she smashed it into the side of the Peggie���s head. He flinched away, his grip loosening enough for her to breath a bit.

There was blood streaming down from his temple and dripping onto her as she gasped for air and rammed the rock into his head again. This time he was off of her, topping away to the ground beside her. Panic and adrenaline coursing through her veins, Sarah followed him over, lifting her arm up and slamming the rock down again between his eyes. Over and over she hit him, his skull cracking and shattering under the continuous blows and still, she hit him. She hit him until he was unrecognizable and still she hit him, tearless sobs wracking her body as she did.

When she came back to her senses and stopped, looking at what she’d done she reared back and vomited, the majority of it landing on her jeans and the Peggie. She flew back away from him and dropped the rock with a silent scream. Her hands were covered in blood, brains and bone fragments as she scrambled towards the house.

Inside, Sarah ran for the bathroom, turning the sink on and washing her hands in the scalding water until they were red and raw. She looked up and saw herself in the mirror, face covered in sweat and more blood and brains, and leaned over the sink and vomited again until nothing came out anymore. There was a tiny shower behind her and she turned it on, not bothering to get undressed she stepped into the ice-cold spray, uncaring of the temperature as she sat down and let the slowly warming water beat down on as she stared at her hands with hollow eyes. What had she done?

It had been almost three days since Sarah has gotten to the cabin. In that time she’d somehow gotten up the nerve to move the Peggie’s body, dragging it out into the woodshed behind the cabin. She’d managed to cover most of the bloodstain by kicking dirt over it and she just hoped no one came here looking because she knew she’d done a piss poor job at hiding the crime scene.

She was still inside the compound’s borders and every hour she stayed was riskier than the last. No one had found her yet meaning they were probably still looking for her or they’d assumed she’d escaped somehow. She’d found a backpack her first night in the cabin and had spent all of yesterday packing it. She had found clothing in the bedroom after her shower and changed into them, letting her uniform dry mostly before stuffing it in her pack as well. The clothes didn’t fit well, but they worked just fine and she couldn’t exactly afford to be picky.

When the sun had finally dipped below the horizon and the sky was glowing with stars, Sarah stepped out into the crisp Montana air. She pulled the baggy jacket she’d found tighter around her frame and started to walk. She wasn’t sure which way the compound was but she hoped she was walking in the opposite direction.

As she walked in silence, her thoughts ran around her head like a caged bird searching in a panic for an exit. What was she going to do? What if she got caught? Who was going to feed Finny if she died? Who was feeding Finny now? It’d been three days and while he had full access to the outside, he still liked to come in at night for cat food. Oh God, what if Finny got eaten by a wolf or a cougar? She always locked him in at night. He was probably angry at her for being gone for so long. She hoped Kim had noticed her absence and sent Nick down to her house to fill the food bowls and check on him.

It was easier to worry about her cat than the reality of her situation.

Still, her thoughts drifted from Finny and the Ryes and moved to the rookie. She was probably dead or captured and Sarah felt like the shittiest person in the world. She didn’t even know the woman’s name. She hadn’t bothered much with small talk, it’d been a busy few weeks with tensions between the Peggies and civilians rising and she’d been running in and out of the station building. How could she not know her own partner’s name? Whitehorse had trusted her to watch out for their newest member and she’d ditched her in the forest just like Burke. She’d decided in her panic to save her own skin.

A fence finally came into view and broke Sarah from her spiraling. It wasn’t too high and she was pretty sure she could scale it if it wasn’t for the barbed wire at the top. She let out another hopeless sigh for the fiftieth time the week and started walking along it hoping to find a gap. As if by the grace of God, she soon found a break in the fence where something has smashed through it. She stood there in slight shock at her sudden luck and looked towards the sky with a suspicious look. It seemed too good to be true.

She was slightly hesitant as she stepped past the fence, peering down the road before moving, sticking to the fence line just in case someone came by but miraculously no one did. She eventually found a bridge, an abandoned ATV sitting near it with the keys still in the ignition. Sarah smiled slightly at her luck, the first smile in what felt like years since the events at the compound. It sputtered to life and she braced herself as it jerked forward and she was off, speeding down the road and hopefully towards safety.

She hadn’t been driving for long when a figure stepped out onto the road, gun raised, and she slammed on the brakes. The ATV skidded to a stop a foot away from the person, the headlights flicking off as she turned the engine off and shrouding them in darkness. Sarah raised her hands and climbed off, hands itching to grab her gun.

“Leave the keys.” The figure, a woman, commanded. Her voice was familiar, eerily familiar. Sarah sputtered slightly and frowned, trying to match a face to the voice before it clicked.

“Rookie?” She asked, astonishment clear in her tone.

“Lamb?”

[eightmakar]

Fingers Crossed / Two

Teaser // One // Two // Three

Summary: Peter return and explains himself

Word Count: 2.1k

(A/n: this is was way longer!! CONTAINS INFINITY WAR SPOILERS AND MY IDEAS OF POST-INFINITY WAR. Message me to be tagged! xx)

Gods. Aliens. Robots. Guys in suits. Magicians. Tony Stark. Each day the news covered something new about whatever was going on. That Tony was missing, but nothing about Peter.

Even though every Midtown student lived for this type of thing, school was cancelled due to the terror of people disappearing. There were reports all over that people randomly dissolved; luckily, none of your immediate family had. Your mom told you a few other family members you had very little connection to dissolved, and Ned said he knew a bunch of people that did, but you and May were fine. You were just praying that Peter wasn’t one of the ones who had dissolved.

Pepper still hadn’t heard anything from Tony. The two of you were keeping your fingers crossed that they would come back whole. When a week had passed and they were still missing, she came to visit May.

She brought dinner, the nicest dinner you and May had had in a while. Steak, seafood, anything you could imagine. It seemed normal to you; Pepper Potts, the CEO of Stark Industries, was casually having dinner in the Parker’s kitchen.

In the midst of your meal, her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID, then shot out of her chair.

“It’s Tony!” She cried.

You crossed your fingers, hoping that Mr. Tony Stark would have an answer for you and May.

“Tony?” Pepper answered her phone. “Tony? Where the hell are you?”

You could hear his voice, but not make out the words. You looked at May anxiously, your hands shaking, a wave of nausea running over you. It felt like Pepper and Tony’s conversation went on forever before she asked him what you were dying to hear: “Is the kid with you?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, waiting.

“If he’s with you put him on the damn phone right now, Tony! I’m with his aunt and girlfriend and they have been in shambles. Put him on the phone right now.”

Your heart jumped. Pepper turned her phone on speaker phone, and you and May simultaneously cried Peter’s name.

“Hey hey hey, there’s no need to yell now.”

You burst into tears. He’s there. He’s alive, and alive enough to be talking to you. You jumped up and grabbed Pepper’s phone.

“Peter Benjamin Parker I’m going to beat the sh—“

“Baby, I know, I’ll explain everything later. I love you.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re at the facility upstate. The one I told you about.”

Tony took over the phone. “He’s safe here. Pepper—“

“Safe?” You echoed. “I’m sorry, since when has Peter been safe with you Mr. Stark?”

“Hey, honey....” Pepper tried to stop you. You didn’t care.

“Listen,” Tony said, calculated. “I know you’re mad, so please give me the chance to explain.”

“Mad is an understatement.” The voice in the back of your head was screaming at you. Why were you talking to one of the world’s richest and smartest men like that?

“Pepper? Are you there?”

“I’m here,” Pepper replied, stepping closer to you.

“Just bring them upstate.”

“I will. See you soon.”

“Bye.”

Pepper took the phone from you and ended the call. She immediately dialed another number, and said “Happy, it’s me. I’m coming down right now with May and (Y/N), and you need to take us to the Upstate Facility right away. Tony finally called. Great, be there in a second.” She turned to you and May. “Follow me, we’re going upstate.”

The car ride felt endless. You were itching to hold Peter in your arms, to kiss his face, to see that he’s okay. To actually see, not just hear his voice.

You couldn’t believe your eyes when you pulled into the Avenger’s Facility. It was enormous, just like Peter had told you. You were ushered inside by Happy and Pepper and you didn’t have time to look around because Peter was waiting in the lobby for you and May to arrive.

You froze when you saw him. There he was, in the flesh, standing just a few feet from you. May took advantage of your hesitation and ran to Peter, hugging him tighter than you’d ever seen. She whispered things to him like “are you okay?” and “I missed you so much” and “please don’t do that to us ever again.”

When May was finished greeting him, you finally processed that he was back, your best friend was back, your love was back. She had barely gotten out of the way when you barreled into Peter.

You began sobbing into his chest the moment you touched him. He was here, with you, and you were with him, hugging him, smelling him, feeling him. You held him as tight as you could, knowing you couldn’t hurt him no matter how hard you squeezed. Your Peter was back.

You pulled back from the hug. Peter leaned down to kiss you, and instead of accepting his kiss you punched his arm over and over. “Where did you go, Peter? You had us worried to death!”

“Hey hey hey baby stop stop!” He put his arms up in front of his face to protect it. “Let me explain. But first, this is Mr. Stark.”

You didn’t even realize Pepper and Tony Stark were having their own reunion next to you. It was much quieter than yours and Peter’s; you supposed they’d done this many more times than you, plus you and Peter were just 17.

You pursed your lips looking at Tony. He greeted May, complimenting her on her looks, and turned to you. “You must be the girlfriend who yelled at me on the phone,” he said calmly.

“You bet your ass I was. Where did you drag Peter and why did you drag him into this?”

“Baby,” Peter interjected. “It wasn’t Mr. Stark’s fault. I snuck on the spaceship. He tried to send me away. He tried to parachute me away and I snuck on. It’s not his fault.”

You turned your glare to Peter. “PETER.”

“Why don’t we have a seat?” Pepper suggested, obviously trying to calm the situation down.

“That would be great,” you agreed. Pepper and Tony led the way to a comfortable seating area, where you sat protectively next to Peter, holding his hand tightly. Pepper and Tony sat across from you both, with May on the corner, perpendicular to you both.

“Alright,” Tony began. “You saw the spaceship, correct?”

“Yeah. At school, on the news,” you replied haughtily.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Listen sassy girlfriend, I did my absolute best to protect Peter and I feel like I failed. So if you could just, like, give me a break, that would be great.”

You looked stunned, but nodded. Tony continued, “So that ship had a couple of ugly, Squidward-looking aliens that were asking about a stone that controls time that was locked in a wizard’s necklace so their genocidal father could control the universe. Apparently there are these things called Infinity Stones, each that control a different aspect of life: reality, soul, mind, time, space, and power. If you can harness the power of all six, you can essentially eliminate half of the universe with a snap of your fingers.

“The wizard with the Time Stone called himself Dr. strange, and got kidnapped by Squidward. I got onto the ship AFTER I activated Peter’s parachute and sent him back to Earth, because I had just SAVED him from choking to death from lack of oxygen because he was on the outside of the ship without protection. I had made an iron spider suit for him, and activated it to save him. By the time I realized he was on the ship, we were in the middle of space and I couldn’t do anything.”

“Sweetheart, I promise he didn’t make me go,” Peter piped in. “I went because I wanted to help.”

You shot Peter daggers through your glare. “Peter, if Mr. stark kept trying to send you away, then why did you go back?”

Peter shrugged. “I thought they might need my help,” he said a little sheepishly.

You turned to Mr. Stark. “Mr. Stark,” you began.

“Please call me Tony. When I hear Mr. Stark I look for my grandfather.”

“Got it. Tony, I apologize for blaming you. It appears that this is all Peter’s doing and I shouldn’t have blamed you.”

“Apology accepted. Can I finish?”

“Of course.”

Tony continued. “We arrived on this weird planet and met these other guys who were also looking for the genocidal alien, who apparently is named Thanos.”

“Babe,” Peter interrupted, “an alien tried to lay its eggs in me. Just like that old movie Alien!”

You sighed. “Peter, quit interrupting. Unless you’re going to finish his story.”

“Well, I mean, Thanos was this big really ugly guy that had the weirdest chin I’ve ever seen. We were on an alien planet and we fought him and it was so awesome!”

“Kid,” Tony said. “It was not awesome. You died.”

You were silenced, shocked beyond belief. May had to speak for you. “What... what do you mean, Peter died?”

“Died. Disintegrated. Disappeared. Along with the wizard, and almost every other alien with us.” You gaped at Peter.

May explained that many other people had dissolved and it had caused a mass panic. You were stunned. How was Peter one of the ones who dissolved?

“I don’t know where I was,” Peter explained. “But wherever I went, the process of going there was the worst thing I’ve ever felt. I can’t explain it.”

“He dissolved in my arms,” Tony said. You swore you could hear him choking up. “There was nothing I could do.”

“Well, obviously he’s not dissolved anymore so what happened after that?” May demanded.

“That’s all on Mr. Stark,” Peter said, turning to look at him. You felt him squeeze your hand three times; it was something you two had come up with a long time ago. Three squeezes meant “I love you.” You squeezes back four times, saying “I love you too.” All you wanted to do was hold onto Peter, especially hearing he dissolved like so many other people. You lifted up your entertained hands and kissed the back of Peter’s.

“Well, Nick Fury seemed to have called in some backup. Long story short, Cap, Banner, Clint, Natasha, Thor, and I teamed up with this Air Force Pilot-turned superhero, plus some aliens and some Wakandans and Rhodey, and we were able to undo whatever it was Thanos the Angry Grape did. The wizard, Strange, seems to think they were all trapped inside the Soul Stone, in some kind of world created for taking souls. I don’t know, I just shoot where I’m told.” Tony finished his story, leaned back, and propped his feet up on the coffee table that separated you and Peter from him and Pepper.

It stayed quiet for several minutes. You, May, and Pepper were just taking everything in. Peter had died? But also not really? It was a lot to process in a short time. You simply laid your head on Peter’s shoulder.

Pepper finally broke the silence. “You got on an alien ship ALONE without a plan or backup or any idea where it was going? Tony, what the hell were you thinking?”

“Listen, honey, I—.”

“No, you listen to me. Before you flew off to fight aliens, you suggested we have a baby, but how can we take care of a child together when you’re running off every ten minutes to try and save the world? AND you hung up on me?”

“Pepper, honey, I didn’t hang up on you, I lost signal in space, but—.”

“No sir, no more ‘buts’. You need to think about how that affected me, okay?”

“Can we take this somewhere more private? I hate to have the kid see mom and dad fight,” Tony suggested, motioning at Peter.

“Mr. Stark, c’mon now....”

“Happy, can you take these folks back to Queens?”

“You got it boss. Let’s go, Queens folks.”

You all stood up. You inched over to Pepper and gave her a huge hug. “Thank you for everything, Pepper. We owe you.”

“I know how it feels to be on your end. Call me any time.” She smiled at you.

You thanked her and moved to shake Tony’s hand. “Thanks for doing your best to keep him safe,” you said. “I know he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“He’s a good kid, and having someone like you who fights for him is great. Keep it up. Maybe one day you’ll get a Stark Internship too.”

You laughed. “Maybe.”

With that, you reconnected your hand with Peter’s, followed Happy to the car, and rode back to Queens. Your crossed fingers had worked.

Tags: @upsidedownparker @justbetomholland @spiderlingss @bi-writes @loserparker @tomhollandwritings @scarlettxspider @im-a-witchy-author @tomsfireheart @holland-ish @beautiful-holland @freckledskittles @jellalyrancher

[innocentfighter]

Rise Chap 1

Very much a draft of an original story, I mentioned it a couple of days ago. So this is the current first chapter. Read at your pleasure, and if you have feedback please feel free to share it.

Oddly enough, my last coherent thought before being struck by the violently pink Cadillac was that this was a pretty ironic death. I could see the headlines now LARPer Taken Out by Modern Technology. Which, in my defense, it was a professional hobby, I won an international competition. The car hit me and I found that I didn't particularly care that they would mislabel my epithet.

It hurt for a second. I felt the impact and the feeling of flight and then I was tumbling down the hill. Consciousness clung onto me like spider silk, and I knew my arms were flopping wildly as I fell but I couldn't feel it. Dying actually sucked, go figure.

Awareness came back to me when I landed the winter-chilled pond. I tried to move my arms to struggle to the surface but I couldn't. The leather jacket I had worn trapped the water and kept dragging me down.

Down.

Down.

I don't remember what happened exactly. Black was dancing on the edge of my vision and I knew I was breathing in water but I couldn't do anything to stop it. It stopped being a downward movement and I was going up... or it was getting brighter.

Don't go into the light, Artie!

Suddenly, I was looking at the moon and seeing more stars than I could ever hope to count. It was bright enough that there wouldn’t be a need for lanterns. How could humans ever take something like this away?

The breath left my lungs, absolutely stunning.

This was the afterlife.

“I saw it over there!”

Ghosts? Awesome.

“The Lake? Could The Lady want something?”

“Perhaps a new quest,” the voice grew in intensity, “oh, gods.”

“Are you alright, Merlin?”

Merlin? I couldn’t move my head to see the speakers, they were likely in the clearing now. A feeling stirred in my chest, my heart felt as though it was being squeezed. Might be the trauma.

“By the gods! It cannot be!” Merlin spoke softly.

They leaned over me, tawny-brown hair flipped out at every angle and gray eyes that shone brighter than the moon filled my vision. It was a familiar face as if I’d passed them on the street or known them in childhood.

Merlin turned around, “Lance! It’s Arthur!”

“Impossible!”

I agreed with Lance. There shouldn’t be visions after death. Death was final.

My vision blurred for a few seconds, enough time for the second speaker to walk into its field. Even in my limited view, I could tell Lance was big, larger than most of the guys I fought with on a daily basis. He was easily over six feet tall. He leaned over me and I couldn’t stop myself from staring at him. His eyes reminded me of deer in two ways: the soft wariness and their color, a dark brown that matched his skin.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he breathed, “it is him. How?”

There was a pause as Merlin flitted around me like a bird, not touching and deeply unsettled before they spoke, “do not ask, accept it for the blessing that it is.”

Lance inclined his head, “He is injured. Let us treat his wounds and then we will learn his story.”

I wanted to protest. Moving a person with a (possible) spinal injury was a no-no, but my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and I couldn’t get any words out. There was no telling what could happen if I let them take me to their base, although I doubted it mattered in the long run. This injury would eventually kill me without enough medical interference.

Merlin finally stilled on my right side. They crouched down and placed their hands on my chest and muttered some foreign tongue. Lance moved so that his hands were under me, one on my back and the other under my knees.

How humiliating, I groaned.

The pair seemed to have taken it as a sound of pain. Merlin halted their chanting and Lance looked down concerned.

“Why is he in pain? I see no gashes or punctures?”

“A blunt weapon perhaps or he could have fallen. I wonder where his armor and Excalibur are?” Lance replied.

Part of me prayed that this was, in fact, some trauma-induced coma dream that was using things that I knew well, Medieval Europe and combat as a guide back to myself. This was just keeping my brain active while they relieved the pressure in my head. How could anyone mistake me, Artie Penn, as Arthur Pendragon?

Their conversation had apparently continued without my knowing it because when Merlin spoke again, I couldn’t follow how the previous conversation had lead to the current question.

“Why would he spend his time doing something like that instead of coming back to us?”

“Why did Arthur do anything he did?” Lance’s face was unreadable and also fuzzy.

Somehow I knew that he was hurt, his eyes shimmered ever so briefly. It made my heart twinge and I shuddered. If this was some dream, I had to stop the realism from drawing me in and preventing me from returning to my life. Although, if I died here I would probably die in the real world.

For the first time, Lance seemed to remember that I was there. He looked down at me and there was a minute quirk of his lips, “rest my King.”

And I did.

Between the journey from the lake shore to wherever it was their base was I had flashes of lucidity. One moment we were traipsing through the trees and then we were on open plains. Merlin and Lance were talking, the words distorted and sounded as if they were spoken through the water. I struggled weakly against the rising heat of my body and fell back into unconsciousness.

The world stopped bouncing and various strips of plate stopped jabbing my side. I took the time to try and reorient myself, certain that we wouldn’t be moving again for some time. It was low light and I had to assume that we were inside due to a lack of stars. Certainly, it was an upgrade to sand, but not knowing where I was had me concerned. Strange people thinking I was King Arthur had me concerned.

This was all very concerning.

When I was finally lucid, I could feel the sweat that had soaked into the pillow and sunlight was streaming through an open window. The scent of wildflowers filled the room and I went to turn my head a twinge of pain shot down my spine, it didn’t move. My lungs seized. There was a moment where I was on the outside of my body looking in, my immobile body.

Merlin had come in during my moments of panic and had started to speak, “I’m glad to see that the fever has finally broken, sire.”

I sighed, my throat was still too dry to even begin to speak.

“With the fever gone you’re probably feeling better,” Merlin said.

That was a point of contention, I didn’t feel like I was going to sweat myself to death but I couldn’t move anything. On the other hand, I didn’t feel anything. Instead of inviting Merlin to talk more I moved my gaze to stare at the stone ceiling. It was dark gray and cracking in some places. A spider vanished back into one of the crevices.

“Sire?” Merlin stood at the foot of the bed.

I glanced at them and noticed for the first time that they were small. The clothes they wore were overlarge and only seemed to highlight their petite structure. Now that it was mostly light, I could see the barest hints of gray streaking their hair. They wore a blue sash, which stood out against the varying shades of brown, that had a bottle hanging off of it.

“I’ll be starting the healing on your injuries,” they grimaced, “it could be uncomfortable. Your back seems badly damaged.”

My eyes shut to ward off a headache. Merlin seemed to be the ruler of understatements.

“The sleeping draught is nearly finished.”

I knew medieval medicine, what there was to know. This would do more harm than good, but I didn’t see an alternative other than dying. I doubted this would be a typical leech treatment if this was Merlin, at least the storied magically inclined Merlin I read in old books. Why is this dream so vivid? Are all coma dreams like this?

Merlin moved back over to the desk and held up a small bottle filled with a red-brown mixture. They uncorked it and moved back to my side.

“I’m going to lift you up sire. I apologize if this causes you any pain.”

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t. The weird thing was it felt like it should, I was only lifted up a few inches and my lips parted on their own. The bottle rested on my lips before Merlin tilted enough that the draught could drain into my mouth. I swallowed it. I can’t say that I’ve had worst tasting things, this tasted like a mix of protein powder and rotten eggs. Vomit rose in my throat but I fought it back down. I’d feel bad if I covered Merlin in sick, they were only trying to help.

The bottle emptied and I was relieved that there wouldn’t be any more of that. Merlin grinned softly, their eyes crinkled in the corner and they looked ten years younger. There was no longer a cracking ceiling behind them but an endless blue sky, their hair was longer.

           “Arthur! Merlin! There you are,” Someone called in the distance.

           I blinked my eyes several times, the beautiful day fading away into gray to the gentle eyes of Merlin. That had been odd.

           “I’ll come back soon when the draught has taken effect.”

           Merlin laid me back down and spent a few moments cleaning up their work area before they left the room. The door closed and it became stifling, it was as if all of the fresh air had left with them. There was a strange energy surrounding them, I could only guess that it had something to do with their supposed magic.

With nothing else to do, I looked back up at the ceiling and watched as the spider came crawling back out of its crevice. It began to spin a web, I watched it complete it about halfway before I felt the effects of the sleeping draught.

My dreams were weird(er), but when I  awoke the dreams slipped through my consciousness like sand. Voices in my room kept me from opening my eyes. I was too wary to expose myself like that, and learning the situation never hurt anyone. Charging into battle with your arms above your head always got you stabbed in the stomach.

“Lance, Merlin will be in shortly. Rest,” a woman spoke barely above a whisper.

Lance sighed, “I cannot. Not now Gwen.”

 The was rustling and thin fingers were threading their way through my hair. I assumed it was Gwen, the hand was small and the touch was light.

“I understand, but you should not run yourself into the ground. We do not know anything that happened to him.”

There was the sound of shifting cloth and footsteps. It seemed like Lance was pacing.

“Do you understand?” Lance didn’t sound harsh, but the words were.

“Gwen, he’s been missing for almost a decade, and now he shows up as if he hasn’t aged a day...”

“Your prayers have suddenly been answered,” she finished for him.

“Yes.”

The bed creaked and Gwen ghosted her fingers down my face,

“To have our King back. It's incredible.”

“Do you mean having Arthur back is incredible?”

Lance made a weird sound, like a pained grunt. Gwen’s laugh sounded like wind chimes.

“Come now, I’ve known you too long. The way you look at him gives you away.”

“There’s nothing to give away.”

My eyes fluttered open at Lance’s tone. His voice was rough.

Gwen slowly retracted her hand. A smile formed on her face that was as bright as the sun. I observed her for a moment, noting the dark black curls that haloed her face, she was as pretty as the stories claimed if this was Guinevere

“Welcome home, Your Majesty.”

Lance stopped his pacing only to change his course to stand next to me. His eyes were wide and there was a tenseness to his shoulders. I weakly managed a smile, it felt awkward but I felt like I had to comfort these two.

“How do you feel?”

“Better,” the raspiness in my voice may have belied that statement.

“That’s good!” Gwen clapped her hands.

Lance’s shoulders loosened. I glanced between them if they were the destined lovers the stories said then their posture gave no indication. Gwen was tilted towards Lance, but he had his arms crossed and faced me directly.

Out of curiosity, I twitched a finger and I felt it move. That was more than promising. Whatever Merlin was doing was working and I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Gwen’s smile lessened and she tilted her head. Lance had moved so that he was leaning against the wall.

“Don’t, not right now. Let him heal,” his hand tightened on his sleeve.

Gwen looked between us for a second, “we should know. What if it happens again?”

“Merlin will be in soon.”

Slowly she raised herself up, giving my hand a squeeze that I didn’t react to. The movement was so fluid I had barely recognized that she had in fact moved. Her face fell completely and she bit her lip. I could tell she cared deeply for Arthur Pendragon.

As Lance opened the door Merlin had reached for it.

“Your Majesty,” Merlin bowed deeply.

“He’s awake,” Lance tossed his head towards me.

Gwen nodded, “and he spoke. It was only one word.”

Merlin’s eyebrow raised as they focused on me, their eyes sparkled like lightning and the phrase lightning-quick mind made so much more sense now. It was as if the other two didn’t exist. I had Merlin looking me over, moving their lips as if they were making mental notes.

“Sire?”

I winced, unable to keep it off my face this time. There wasn’t going to be an easy way to tell them that I wasn’t who they were all hoping me to be.

“If you’re feeling pain then your injuries are healing,” Merlin said cheerfully.

The door closed and I was left alone with Merlin. There was no way that I could keep my immobility a secret but I didn’t know who all knew what.

“My back?” I croaked.

A look of surprise passed Merlin’s face before it turned serious, “I believe it can be restored, though I suspect you’ll have issues with it for the rest of your life.”

It was too much to hope for a full cure, I sighed.

“I’m doing my best, Sire.”

For I moment I debated on closing my eyes and feigning sleep, but I was too awake to even do that. At least this would be a welcomed break in what had become monotony. But where to start?

“I’m sure you are.” Not my best attempt.

Merlin looked a little put out, but perked back up, “if you tell me what caused it then maybe there could be a chance that I can heal it better?”

It was a subtle prod for information. I would’ve done the same thing, the curiosity killing me until I blurted out a question.

“I was knocked down a hill by a metallic something.”

“One of Morgana’s?”

“I don’t know,”

Oh great. Morgana was involved in this disaster of a dream world as well. What’s next telling me that I must lead the army to overthrow her?

“She’s been getting bold in her attacks. It's been a decade since the Battle of Camlann, her claim to the throne is getting more legitimate,” Merlin glanced out of the window wary.

           For a moment I could feel the words bubbling in my throat that would tell them that I’m not King Arthur.

“You’re here now. We have a chance to turn this around and save Camelot!”

Merlin’s grin split their face.

The argument died in my throat. I had to tell them, it was the right thing to do. If they put their hope in me their battle would be lost. That was a fact. Still, they looked as though they needed hope, the cracking ceiling and threadbare blankets told me that much.

It’s a dream Artie, none of this matters.

“I can’t lead you.”

“What do you mean you can’t lead us?” Merlin’s voice cracked, “for years you were the one everyone looked to for guidance when Morgana seized the throne everyone rallied behind you! Now suddenly you can’t?”

I sighed, wishing I had enough movement to run a hand through my hair, get up and pace. Do something.

“Merlin, it’s been almost ten years. The people won’t believe in me. I’m injured. I can’t move.”

“Your Majesty, Arthur, your Return was the only thing that kept us fighting this war,” Merlin pursed their lips.

Well. That wasn’t the weight of the world, not at all. One of my classes taught me that sometimes people only need a symbol, but I couldn’t be that. Not ever. King Arthur was King Arthur, there’s no one else like him.

“Lance has been leading all this time,” I didn’t know for sure but it sounded good.

“Yes. He’s a good general, but the most important thing was missing.”

This conversation wasn't going the way I wanted it to. At this rate, I would agree to get on a horse and lead everyone to the palace to take down Morgana right now.

Stop this. Don’t get sucked into this dream world.

So instead I turned my head to regroup. Merlin sensed that the conversation was over and set about doing other tasks.

“I’ll begin the healing incantation now,” Merlin said, “I'm sorry I can't use the draught again. It would lose effectiveness.”

I nodded. Next to me, Merlin started chanting and warmth filled my body for a split second then searing pain raced up my back. It almost felt like I could feel the nerves knit themselves together. I had regained enough movement that I gripped at the mattress below me (straw came out) in order to stop myself from convulsing. Needing something else to focus on I turned my gaze to Merlin.

Their eyes glowed a bronze color and the floor around them turned into some arcane circle. I decided to observe that, the power it expended was incredible. It was about two feet in diameter, with a diamond inscribed in the center and within the diamond was a single symbol that looked like a curly 5 pointed W. The far end of the W looked like it was burning out and moving through the symbol.

Watching it for a few seconds I saw that it was like the fuse of a firework. Burning up the magical energy, and when it was burned out I assumed it meant the healing was done. I couldn’t be sure. The legends never went into detail about Merlin’s magic.

By the time Merlin had finished the sun had faded into dusk and I was breathing hard. My back screamed in pain and my chest was heaving. Merlin didn’t look any better, doubled over by the side of the bed coughing.

“A-Are you alright?”

Merlin jumped up quickly. “I am fine, Your Majesty! Nothing to trouble yourself about. How do you feel?”

“Like...” I paused trying to find a better analogy than hit by a truck, “I was just raked across hot coals.”

“I am sorry. Healing is painful, it speeds up the natural process, and you know the saying it gets worse before it gets better,” Merlin bowed.

Having people bow to me and actually meaning it was a very strange feeling and I vowed never to bow at my friends again. Merlin shifted from side to side and once again I was reminded of a bird.

“I’ll send someone up with something to eat?”

My stomach growled loudly and I grinned sheepishly. I hadn’t realized how hungry I had been. A thought struck me, “how long?”

“About seven nights.” Merlin shrugged.

Seven? How in the hell? They took my silence as a dismissal. Meanwhile, I was left to think about the life that I wasn’t currently living. All my parents would know of me is that I had been hit by a car and was now in a coma. My mother would be heartbroken, and my father would more than likely start a charity for families of victims of car crashes. That’s how they worked.

How was I ever going to wake up from this dream? Would there be clues?

A new person entered the room. He was big as well, taller than me but shorter and less broad than Lance. He had short blonde hair that just barely curled at the edges. Green eyes sparkled mischievously. I raised an eyebrow.

“So it's the truth! You are alive!”

The newcomer moved to set the food on the table and say something else when fast footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

“Damn,” he breathed, “nothing gets passed that advisor of yours.”

“Gwaine! What do you think you’re doing?” Merlin skidded to a stop in front of the door.

I couldn’t stop the snicker that escaped my lips. Merlin looked disheveled,  already messy hair was even more so and their robes hung at odd places. Their mouth was open and finger raised to lecture, Gwaine looked mildly terrified. Quickly he set the food down, bowed and bolted out of the room. There was a second paused and then I was left alone.

“Gwaine! Get back here!”

Were they really the legendary heroes?

I looked at the food left on the table it was a steaming bowl of something. Several minutes later Merlin reappeared breathing heavy.

“Sorry about that, you know how Gwaine is.”

I didn’t, but instead, I made a half-hearted gesture towards the bowl. Merlin nodded and brought it over to me. It didn’t smell good and it didn’t look good, it looked like paper mache. The spoon got stuck in it briefly before it came out. My stomach twisted and I thought about rejecting it saying I wasn’t hungry. But it growled treacherously and Merlin did me the favor of not saying anything.

Being fed as a grown male was mildly uncomfortable but there was no way I’d be able to feed myself. We didn’t say anything, and I choked down the paste. It said a lot about the state of things, I doubt they would’ve given their King something like this unless it was all they had. It was also uncommon to use utensils, but I was grateful hand-feeding would make this unbearable.

Only the barest amount was left in the bowl. Merlin looked pleased that I had eaten that much.

“Would you like to rest? Lance would like to come in,” Merlin said.

I thought about it. Lance was nothing more than a stranger to me, but it would be nice to have the company, “sure.”

Lance stepped into the rooms a few minutes later. He had dressed down into just a cotton shirt and pants. He stood hesitantly at the side before stepping up and pulling the chair beside my bed. I watched him unsure of what to say. Sir Lancelot and King Arthur were good friends, and he would notice that I wasn’t him. But I was tired of just laying in this room all day.

“I heard Gwaine stopped by,” Lance spoke.

“Yes.”

“The rumors that you’re back spread quickly. Gwaine was the first to get wind of the story, the other knights will surely want to see you,” Lance crossed his arms, “Gwen is going to ward them off, but it won’t last long. Though many of them are not present.”

I laughed. The image of seeing Gwen, as lithe as she was stopping knights at least as big as Gwaine was amusing.

“Merlin says that you’re healing well. The best guess is that you’ll be up and about within the next couple of days.”

That would be nice. Merlin hadn’t said anything to me about how they thought that I was healing beyond that I was. The conversation paused and I observed Lance, he was doing the same to me after all. His shoulders had gone back to being stiff and he was rubbing his hands together. He pressed his lips together tightly. The conversation was going into dangerous territory I knew.

‘Camelot has sorely missed you, Your Majesty.”

I swallowed, “has it?”

The look Lance gave me stopped me from talking.

“You are not the same, Sire,” Lance shifted,  “whatever happened in the years you were gone has changed you. I can only hope that it wasn’t for the worst.”

He still looked like he was going to talk so I held my tongue. Not sure what I was going to say. Keeping myself quiet was harder than I imagined.

“We needed this. You to come back, the war is nearly won, and it's not in our favor. With you, we can turn the tide.”

Something welled up inside of me at Lance’s distant look, I spoke before I could even fully comprehend that I was, “I can’t remember anything.”

Shit.

Lance didn’t miss a beat, “have you told Merlin?”

“No.” The worse thing about this is I knew why I said it. These people were suffering and they needed something to give them that fighting chance back. I could do something about it.

I need to get back to my actual life.

“Do you want me to,” He made a gesture over his shoulder.

I had thrown him off balance if the wide-eyed look was anything to go by.

“I feel like I need someone else here when I say it,”

He nodded and stepped out of the room. I could hear his footsteps disappearing down the hall. The silence was a blessing for once as I descended into panic. For once staying quiet would’ve been in my favor, but no I had to go and say something. What were they even going to do about my apparent missing memories? And why did everything feel so real?

[chosenmindset]

ChosenMindset - The Passion Of The Flame Inside Of Me - by Vlad G

1.Good heart living in toxic parts

2.Emotions caused by fear

3.Hell’s cycle

4.Depression killed the kid

5.Mentality of a lion

6. Inner piece of a lion

7.A message for your mindset

Good heart living in toxic parts

The inner rage of a child is one that is developed from birth.. A sense of hate that is fed by the toxic parts of earth. Growing up in poverty I couldn’t tell the difference between fun and dumb, gum and rum, and my fam did their best to keep me away from drugs and guns. Being the oldest son got me feeling like I am the chosen one because my older sisters born before me have put the pressure on me like I am the only one. As a child I was only trying to survive the cold and chase the cool, be like Simba from lion king and be a leader who rules. What is the cool? As I got older I seen why drugs were boomed, Children were doomed and making it out of the struggle was hope we knew wasn’t coming soon. Now the question is what is self? Why must I go to a therapist to learn about me and he just getting paid to learn about you. It is hard to understand us humans and we will forever be confused. We all got a fuse and the wrong spark will blow you up but the right spark may light you up so you can shine like a star. The goal is to be on top and higher than the clouds that used to bully us with it’s pouring rain.. And I hope one day I can conquer this pain.. or you can say this flame..

Emotions caused by fear

Having to put my ego at check because this year I pushed really hard to hit my peak. Breakdown after breakdown I can see myself dying inside, not able to let go of the pain and feeling caged in my head and wanting to escape outside. Being stumped trying to find my purpose in a head that is as crazy as a circus.Trying to avoid being alone in my head by going wild with different women in my bed.  Is lust really a cure for loneliness ? Maybe at the moment but I know for sure it isn’t permanent. It may numb the pain but that will never go away. Probably damaging your spirit the more bodies you try to slay. I want peace and love to stay but it’s axed by the feeling of fear I develop by them racing thoughts I get everyday. Hitting 100 on the dash because it’s a fast life and I’m not afraid to die, and if I’m pulled over I’ll just be cussing out the police like I am daring them to put a bullet in my eye. Exploding in city daring a nigga to kill me, when all I want is somebody to hear me. Comfort the tears from the trauma that I’ve had to deal with on my own. The sadness, madness, and feeling of self destruct left me stuck. I want to feel at peace and have these memories fade away but I know I want to keep the good ones but flashing back on them have been overshadowed by the bad times and it makes me scared of life because I feel like I’ve been living in a nightmare the whole time.. Young trying to hit my prime in a land where they won’t let you shine. I must wake up and face reality and find my peace and maintain that mentality.

Hell’s Cycle

He got to a point where that rage has took over him. Demons control him and the person he thought he would become is nothing more but the worst version of him. At this point he has convinced himself that he’s crazy and nothing but a madman and no matter what anybody tells him, he remains a sad man and them pills ain’t working so he out here moving like a zombie who is depressed feeling like he has no motive or purpose.. gotten himself in his own hell, his own jail, and nobody can bail him out cause it’s only him who can figure out how to get out of there. With this depression and being in a society where his skin color has him feel the severe oppression.. It should be his mission to recover and his desire to get better, but he got caught up in his own ways, doing those drugs that made him feel good back in the old days and now he has dug himself in a deeper hole and his mind has wandered away. Lost soul becoming helpless… stuck in the institution where he won’t get any real help cause everybody is selfish. Family trying to fix him but he see there is nothing wrong but he start to cry cause he don’t feel like he belong. A weak man who can’t even enjoy the small pleasures of listening to his favorite song or eating his favorite food. I want to help him.. Tell him he needs to get out of there and find his faith..  I can’t reach him though he’s stuck in hell’s cycle.. Nothing I can do but pray and hope somebody give him a bible.

Depression killed the kid

He was walking one day thinking about his life and how he has failed.. then he started to realize he was starting to feel old and frail.. Living day to day hoping one day that things will change overnight. Scared to take a leap of faith he just wasn’t feeling right. As he started to realize he had no love in his life he started thinking about taking flight.. The leap of death. This is the end.. Hoping if he dies that God will forgive him for all his sins. Contemplating this decision he starts to take shots of gin.. Reminiscing over his life the crying then starts to begin. He wants to end it all because he doesn't ever believe he will win.. Battling them demons inside they forever have been convincing him.. He has made the decision that his life is not valuable and this is the end. He gets to the bridge he takes the leap and before he hits the ground he opens his eyes to take a peak and right then and there he wakes up with the bottle of gin next to him and realize that the decision to end his life wasn’t meant for him.

The mentality of a lion

You ever have a bad day a sad day and a type of day that make you want to go on a mad craze. Shit wild how you get back to back bad news and you can’t even gather your emotions to stay cool. Gotta be resilient or else that anger will consume you. Being in a state of mind where you can fuck up and you want to give up, fighting your emotions inside got you taking punches to your gut, and you need to clear your mind because those messages just torn you up. Close your eyes and wait… just know this feeling you have is not here to stay and that it is all temporary and it will go away.. You got a mentality to be great, fuck the negativity and the hate.. Don’t let these people or them situations control your fate. Be patient you gonna get that smile back..You gonna see those toxic emotions can’t hold you back. I know it’s hard but don’t ever forget your worst day means the next day has to be better. Remember cloudy rainy days is only temporary weather. Now keep moving and continue this journey on your path because the road to peace is within yourself and only you can put out the flame to your wrath..

The inner piece of a lion

To understand my pain is to understand my brain, I don’t feel pain anymore and I don’t see love the same way I used to. I love my people but I hate the system that has tricked them into believing the Lord is our enemy and that we must remove him to bring equality. Equality isn’t a  realistic goal and equity should be the real change we should be chasing for. I am a speaker for minds like mines, minds that care and minds that doesn’t want to be scared. The loss of someone is a pain that can be hidden until you truly understand the meaning and by that point it is too late to try and control it, you are in tears , you are in pain, and you can’t stop that mental pain in your brain. Life has now become meaningless and now you want to give up, but that is not the purpose for you… your suppose to continue the fight and beat the system, beat the numbers they use to define you, use your creative insight on the world to create change. There is no such thing is I can’t because you’ve been created by a God who has given you all the power in the world to show you can. The journey to peace and happiness starts with yourself and once you open your eyes and wake up from the nightmare you will begin to see what is destined for you. As for me , I’ve gotten my peace a long time ago and I’ve found my happiness recently, now my purpose in life is to maintain both and continue to motivate others to find their own destiny.

A message for your mindset

I’ve realized that humanity doesn’t care about your sanity and most people only care about their own vanity. Still being controlled by what hollywood, society, and media throws at us, they control your perspective and the pop culture that’s suppose to distract you from all of this has influenced you to be drugged out by the new heroin in a pill and when you overdose the doctors prescribe you a medication that has the same side effects but with a psychosis that makes you depressed so you won’t get the same thrill. We are in the age of anxiety and we are starting to feel the illnesses of our ancestors, but being more conscious and aware, looking in the mirror not recognizing who you are no matter how long you stare, with God’s throne being dethroned we are in need of more blessings in the air. We lack empathy with others and so when you're hurt I can’t even cry with you because as a man I’ve been taught crying is weak so I can’t be vulnerable with you. Conquering my own fears so I can’t help you with yours but I can tell you it is easier to accept your flaws and not look at yourself as your own enemy. As difficult as loving yourself may be it is the best remedy. Clear the head and rid of the toxins trying to kill you and stop your progression. Being ill isn’t your fault and learning how to take care of yourself is the best lesson. Gotta keep fighting even if you don’t think you have anything left and you need to keep living and try to enjoy every last breath. The passion of the flame only has the desire to burn you down so create your own wave so you can cool down..

- Written by Vladimir Gaetan between the times of June - September in the summer of 2017.

© 2018 Vladimir Gaetan

[thefreshfinds]

P.Dot: The Separation

By: Natalee Gilbert

Once the "uhn" escapes from his lips, P.Dot goes off with rhymes and reason.

As he caters to the highest form of himself, P.Dot keeps in mind that spreading the word is imperative. And so, P.Dot ventures into his gangsta appeal for those who didn't get the message. By popular demand, he supplies the hip-hop scene with what it needs. Through means of realness, P.Dot claps back at clout chasers and weeds out the fakes (while sprinkling some of that greenery in a wrap of course). Likewise, he opens up to soundscapes about the hard-knock life. And although his days might be numbered, P.Dot still makes them count. Overrall, P.Dot uses an impressive way of thinking in witty punchlines, grit and worldy advice. Thus, creating that "shock-and-awe" effect throughout the listen. Although some try throwing shade, the MC doesn't let it interfere with his light. As mentioned in part 101 of his weekly segment, #BARSFROMTHECAR, P.Dot remains solid and never folds because it’s easy to bend. “Class is in session, you ain't dealing with a substitute." P.Dot adds.

P.Dot's latest album, THE SEPARATION stresses others to find the silver lining in every scenario. At times reflective, each track serves as an outlet. Essentially, the album's theme revolves around betrayal, lost even love. But in turn, THE SEPARATION encourages others to work on theirselves rather than dwell on another’s actions. Thanks to the album's dark, eerie soundscape P.Dot is able to strike fear into his enemies. Likewise, P.Dot also uses clever ties when facing a partly sampled beat. For instance, "50/50" uses a snippet of Drake's production in "Free Smoke." Taking it further, P.Dot says in this phrase "I got pistols for n*ggas that want smoke about it." as a play on "Free Smoke's" underlying message. On the whole, THE SEPARATION comes loaded with assertive 808's, rhymes and features who keep the same energy. P.Dot adds "Words were always powerful to me. I learned how and why they affected me. Then, learned how to evoke the same feelings I got from other people's words into mine."

Starting off, "50/50" helps all listeners get the gist of THE SEPARATION. With a pistol for "n*ggas that want smoke about it," P.Dot comes gully through the speaker about those who clout chase. Besides this, "50/50" adds a flair to Drake's song "Free Smoke." by speeding up the tempo with slits of heavy base. Regardless he's good. All he's focused on the green and staying clear of phonies.

With urgency, “LAWD HAVE MERCY” tells the human race to be more attentive. Turning back the hands of time, P.Dot addresses through cut-throat rhymes police brutality and racism. In “LAWD HAVE MERCY's" backdrop, wails induce the pain felt by our people. Together with drums and an elevating harmony, listeners are struck with fear. Little do they know, African Americans deal with this on a daily basis. Aside from this, P.Dot pays homage to those who’ve died because of their skin color. He also shows off Black excellence with a subtle flex. And even pokes at the brain of others. Ultimately, “LAWD HAVE MERCY” says in mid-phrase that “we may fall down but we still get up.” Just like the emcee's previous work, “LAWD HAVE MERCY” sanctifies the wicked and nonbelievers. Through a fighter’s spirit, P.Dot projects his voice from start to end. By the horns “LAWD HAVE MERCY” grabs discrimination and stomps on top with anger.

Coupled with a repetive chant and revved-up base, "THE SEPARATION" proves that P.Dot is only made for greatness. Embodying an unstoppable work grind in this one line "I don't get tired, really feel like I'm Kevin Gate-ing." he takes the bad with the good. After all, pressure makes diamonds and P.Dot claims whats rightfully his: Notoriety.

From the get-go, P.Dot is hesitant to trust. In one line, he even says "Let me battle my own demons, like you're battling yours." But "GLORY" comes with no means to offend. Instead, it sheds light on why P.Dot moves the way he does. Off the rip, P.Dot expected for close ones and business partners to keep it real. Unfortunately though, they tried biting off the hand that fed them. So P.Dot kept himself guarded all the while staying money-oriented. To attest this is one of many clever punchlines that are used mid-song. Here, he says "You been looking real fake, I spot a real snake/I'm getting green in this field with a real rake/A couple n-ggas got bread. I want a real plate/ So why beef & kill the cow to get a real steak?/I be "walking on water", they throwing pennies in it/I work too m'f hard to be penny pitching."

“BABY BABY BABY” steps in the name of love like its predecessor. As this particular song draws inspiration from Alicia Key’s song “You Don’t Know My Name,” it manages to find a unique rhythm. Specifically, the roles switch as P.Dot admires a woman whose “a sure thing." In response to Alicia’s presumptions about her crush knowing who she is, P.Dot plays a bit with her melodic refrain “baby, baby, baby.” With Key's message in mind, P.Dot thinks of his own lover. In retrospect, she’s been holding it down. And so, he insists that he’s not a boo or man. Because of all they’ve dealt with she's not only a lover but a friend. Besides this, a love-struck P.Dot boasts with glee about her many attributes. To him, everything about her is just so perfect. One line that deserves recognition in “BABY BABY BABY” goes like this: "Couple n*ggas takin' shots, but nothing Curry bout them." The song alone proves that loyalty lies with P.Dot indefinitely.

Drawing influence from his segment, #BARSFROMTHECAR — P.Dot adds more hard bars onto it in “SURVIVAL feat. Allezy.” Beat wise, this track uses an eerie piano progression and sneaker-knocking base. Lyrically however, P.Dot uses notable punchlines like "remain solid, never fold cause it’s easy to bend." To prove that “class is in session” and that others “ain't dealing with a substitute." Closing it out, Alleazy expresses himself through undeniably solid rhymes. In a word this song speaks on seeing the light in the darkest of times.

“WRONG SON (featuring. Pressure, KYY and Quis Chandla)” consist of some heavy hitters from New Jersey. Anonymously naming itself as a gangster anthem, the trio bring out the gully through intellectually crafted rhymes and hard cadences. Beat wise, “WRONG SON” uses a heavy base, some sirens, bells and a faint echo in its backdrop. To summarize, this track address the haters and fakes all while daring them to stop being social media thugs. Notable lines like “No burial for corpses/scheduled to burn./And on his tombstone, here lies another rapper whos a waste of sperm.” from Chandla go to prove that they have no time for B.S. On the whole, “WRONG SON” spooks those who doubt their excellence. No cap, they say “If I can shine alone, I can grind alone.”

With deep confliction and a heavy heart, “PERKS DNT NUMB” indicates that P.Dot will achieve his dreams with or without a team. Although actions speak louder than words, P.DOT wishes both would correlate. Preferably, he’d love others to keep it a 100. But for now, he’ll weed out all snakes from the Garden State. Likewise, P.Dot makes a point about the music industry and social media frenzied generation. For self recognition, both rappers play the numbers game and mock fake sincerity. Lines like "....but led in the metal for n*ggas tryna erase me," take a jab at the retort, “I'm rubber, you're glue; whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.” Overall, the song insinuates that P.Dot is good regardless. To take it home, “PERKS DNT DIE” adds a faint trumpet progression, hi-hats and snares in it’s soundscape.

Sometimes, people just don't know what they have until it's gone. Funnily enough, "TRIFFLIN (PURPLE HEART)" lives by that phrase. On opposing sides, the blame goes to a woman who just couldn't stick around for the long haul. Although he's angry, a logical P.Dot takes it to the booth. Thus, manifesting bars that come with the wrath. Referencing to the title, P.Dot says '(PURPLE HEART)' is an indication of a real one’s survival. Sonically, a dark piano progression foreshadows the pain he’s feeling. Likewise, the base comes with a mental socker-punch and takes P.Dot's not-so playful demeanor home.

In “CONCRETE ROSE ” P.Dot keeps a fighting spirit. Even though, he’s focused on the present — P.Dot can’t help but wonder if he’ll leave a legacy before the casket drops. Additionally, P.Dot opens up about his fear of dying young. Often, he references to his brother’s death but it’s only to show appreciation and face the man in the mirror staring back. With no return, P.Dot is “on a marathon until his time is done.” As mentioned in the song, he’ll run until his feet hurt and knee burst. On God, P.Dot prays to be felt before it’s time to go. Truly, he lives and dies by music. Sonically, the beat leans more towards somber instrumentations. As a whole “Concrete Rose” abides by the common phrase, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

Juxtaposed with an up-beat soundscape and remorseful lyrics, “EYE DON’T featuring D.Eeastwood and Fat Trap” speaks on the one that got away. Although he loved his woman immensely, P.Dot admits to not appreciating her enough. Revealing the story behind P.Dot and his loves split, “EYE DON’T” says, "I got a heart with brick walls & a seal around it/Gave you the finger when you tried to put a ring around it."

Second to last, “PROGRESSION feat. Chevy and Dibasi” starts off with a trumpet, hi-hats, a lo-fi synth, and dark piano riff. Besides providing a backdrop of earworthy auto-tune, P.Dot lets the listener hear his inner thoughts. Even though some people can be wishy-washy, P.Dot doesn’t let it phase him. Instead he beats the odds, by counting his blessings. Honestly he’s more focused on his progress than another’s occurrence. Like P.Dot, Dibasi and Chevy go in with nothing but real bars. Ultimately, they come with the same energy as the MC: inspired.

Last but not least, P.Dot finds himself on the ladder to success and he just can’t afford to miss a step. So, without breaking a leg, he treads precautiously with solid rhymes and reason in “MAKE A DOLLA.” Production wise, hi-hats bang in. Then, a dark piano riff arises to strike fear into his enemies. Still, "MAKE A DOLLA's” biggest distinguisher are the futuristic synths which go to prove that the days ahead consist of good fortune. To say the least, P.Dot refuses to be anything but fake. Out of his bag, he collects the coin and gets to work!

If you haven't already, stream THE SEPARATION now. It is available on Apple Music and Spotify.

LINKS:

1. Instagram - @pdotmmr

2. THE SEPARATION -

[warcost]

tag drop + updates

APEX LEGENDS 【 ❝ i know we'll meet beyond the shore ❞ 】 ✕ ballistic.

DARKEST DUNGEON 【 ❝ these bones never rested while living so how can they stand to languish in response ❞ 】 ✕ leper. 【 ❝ what you crossed was a line at the edge of the void ❞ 】 ✕ occultist.

DESTINY 【 ❝ the brutal winds of change are knocking at your door ❞ 】 ✕ atticus. 【 ❝ all the things you've said and done; can you carry it with no regrets ❞ 】 ✕ misraaks. 【 ❝ it hurts to pray to god cause god is dying too ❞ 】 ✕ speaker. 【 ❝ truth begets madness begets death ❞ 】 ✕ timur. 【 ❝ imposing penance one by one you've got a virtue in a vice ❞ 】 ✕ young wolf.

HADES 【 ❝ where you go i'm going since there is no me without you ❞ 】 ✕ patroclus.

HALO 【 ❝ i was the one with the world at my feet ❞ 】 ✕ arbiter.

OVERWATCH 【 ❝ go back to your grave o' soldier ❞ 】 ✕ ana.

TRANSFORMERS 【 ❝ we'll be sailing to the sun 'til the voyage is done ❞ 】 ✕ dreadstar.

WARFRAME 【 ❝ fight because you don't know how to die quietly ❞ 】 ✕ umbra.

OCS 【 ❝ tell me when the end is nigh i’ll sober up and come down in time ❞ 】 ✕ archangel raphael. 【 ❝ i see your star you left it burning for me ❞ 】 ✕ munin.

[nemoandpanini]

Meant to Be

Title:  Meant to Be

Pairing:  Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Sharon Carter

Word Count:  2,970

Date Written:  Sunday, January 15, 2017

Date Posted:  Sunday, January 15, 2017

Request:  No.

Song Inspiration:  Stone Cold by Demi Lovato

Author:  Emily

Author’s Note:  Let me just say that my hands are cramping!  I had finished writing an essay outline that took two hours.  Then I wrote this imagine and currently 4:30 in the morning!  I plan to post this in 8 hours!  I hoped your guys enjoyed.  I love The Avengers and could watch movies so many times.  Both my brother and cousin are annoyed if I mention them.  And come on, Cap is so freaking attractive!  So obsessed!  Also, I will write the requests sent in soon when I find the inspiration!  It’’s just I’ve been feeling Captain and a Bucky one will come soon!  Also look forward to Jordan’s writing!  She’s found some inspiration!  Love you all and don’t forget to request, so we know what you want!

Warning:  Angst

“Stone cold, stone cold,

You see me standing, but I’m dying on the floor,

Stone cold, stone cold,

Maybe if I don’t cry, I won’t feel anymore,”

The mission you had just gotten back from was exhausting.  All you wanted to do when you got back to base was to soak in a nice, warm and maybe sleep for three days.  The mission had gotten off track when there were more henchmen than was expected.  Everyone left the HYDRA base with a cut or scratch.  You had a bullet graze you on the side.  

You close your eyes trying to find kind of sleep while Bruce had begun stitching you up.  “How ya feelin’ (Y/N)?”  You opened your eyes and turned your head towards him.  “I feel like I could a marathon really, Brucie,” you said, smiling.  He chuckled at your comment while rolling his eyes at his nickname you gave him.

After Bruce finished stitching you up and cleaning the area, in walked Captain America.  You could hear his footsteps.  You had your arm placed on your forehead and peeked one eye open.  “What’s up, Cap?”  You asked tiredly.

“What were you thinking out there, huh?  You could have been killed out there!”  Steve began shouting.  

“It was just a gra-,” you began before he cut you off.

“It could have been more,” he stated, arms crossed.

You rolled your eyes and sitting yourself up.  You winced feeling pain where the stitches were located.  “But I’m fine, Steve.  I’m not some amateur, okay?”   You smiled at him softly, trying to calm him down.  

He nods his head and says, “Don’t try that ever again, (Y/N).  I can have you on desk duty.”  

You rolled your eyes before saluting him,” Yes, sir.”  Steve looked at you looking like he wanted to say more.  He nods his head and leaves the room.  You sigh and lay back down, praying for sleep to wash over you any minute now.

When you arrived back at base, you took your time gathering your things from the mission.  Everyone hurried off to their respected quarters.  You laughed at them and walked off the jet.  You stopped when you noticed Steve’s and Sharon’s encounter.

She had her arm wrapped tightly around his waist while her head was laying his chest.  His arms were wrapped around her protectively as he kissed her forehead.  She looked up at him and was saying something that you could not hear.

It hurt to watch Steve care about Sharon like he did to you once.  You and Steve met when they had first found him in ice.  You were instructed to show him how things worked in this world today and introduce him to the twenty-first century.  You two had immediately clicked.  

You were there for the man when he had no one.  You were there when he had a question about everything around him.  And when you say everything, you mean EVERYTHING.  You actually loved that about him.  How he was this big, muscular man, but he was so innocent and did everything with soft, precise movements.  

Your falling out had began when Steve had found Peggy Carter, his first love.  He would visit her each day, unless he had a mission.  You were understanding.  This was the only connection he had to your past.  You were happy that he found Peggy.

But his visits grew longer.  You had barely felt like he was there.  Dinners were left untouched and cold on his side.  You would go to bed alone.  You had barely felt like Steve was in your life.  To say it did not upset you would be an absolute lie.  Each time you would try and confront him, he would say he’s busy and leave to visit Peggy.  

The distance had only grown further when Peggy had passed.  Steve had completely changed to a whole new person.  He kept to himself and barely had a conversation with you.  The only answers you could get was either a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer.  You stilled stayed with him.  You seemed to convince yourself that it was just a phase.

But you had totally given up on the relationship, when you had found Steve and Sharon kissing.  You felt your heart break into a million pieces.  You had had enough then.  You left the home you shared and returned to live back on base.

You both had resolved your issues when he returned back to base.  Tears were shed, and screaming ensued.  But in the end, you both shook on being friends.  You wished  time would let you heal and get over Steve.  You have not, of course.  

In the current moment, you could not tear your eyes away from the couple.  It only breaks you heart more.  You feel the stinging of tears in your eyes.  You blink quickly trying to rid them.  Sharon notices you and waves with a smile.  Steve turns around and smiles at you and nods.  You feel yourself give a robotic smile and wave before walking away..  The further you distance yourself, the faster your pace is to your room.  When you make it the elevator, you say to yourself, “Don’t you dare cry.  The pain is going to fade soon enough if we keep it in.  Don’t you dare break, (Y/N).  You repeated this to yourself the entire night.

“Stone cold, baby,

God knows I tried to feel

Happy for you,

Know that I am, even if I

Can’t understand, I’ll take the pain,”

It was movie night at the Avengers Tower.  Everyone had huddled into the movie theater with their own sets of blankets and movie snacks.  You had snuggled between Wanda and Clint using both as pillows.  In front of the three of you, were Steve and Sharon.  

It is not you tried to be bitter when the pair were together.  You wanted to be happy for the both of them.  Every time you tried, you found yourself putting your own feelings first.  

What was it that made him want her?  Her beautiful, blonde hair?  Her big, brown eyes?  Could it be her athletic build or how she held herself?  What had Steve so hypnotized and deeply in love with Sharon Carter?  Were you just a distraction before he could find the one.  

You thoughts were covered with questions and insecure thoughts.  You tried to push it aside and be happy for him.  He deserved your support.  He was your friend.  Just a friend.  As if he knew you were thinking about him, he turned around and smiled at you.  

Your heart fluttered at the sight.  If it could only mean more.  You smiled back and motioned him to focus back on Sharon.  He nods his head and turns towards her, kissing her cheek.  He snuggles her closer and whispers something in her ear.  She tries to hold back a laugh.  You could only smiling imagining it be being on of his many bad jokes.  If they were happy, you should be too.

“Stone cold, stone cold,

You’re dancing with her, while I’m staring at my phone,

Stone cold, stone cold,

I was your amber, but now she’s your shade of gold,”

You and the rest of the Avengers were invited to the governor’s ball.  You had begged for the rest to leave you at home and let them have your fun.  You had even gone as far as pretending that you were sick.  Of course, they had seen through your facade.  Wanda and Nat had forced you into a gown and dragged you to the car.

That is how you found yourself at the bar, moving your cherry in circles in the glass.  You glanced out at the couples and found Steve and Sharon dancing.  You smiled softly at the couple.  They were very beautiful together.  Sharon’s gown complimented Steve’s eye.  The way he looked at her had only brought back memories.

You were in the kitchen cooking dinner.  Steve was helping you tonight.  You smiled at him as he hummed along to the songs.  Your favorite song, Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran, began to play out the speakers.  

“Ugh!  Steve listen to his angelic voice.  The way he sings can swoon any girl right off her feet,” you said, closing your eyes and swaying side to side.  

You felt Steve’s arm slide around your waist, while he took the opposite hand in yours.  He began to dance around the room causing you to laugh loudly.  “Steve!  I can’t dance,” you said, trying to escape his grasp.

“You’re doing fine, just let go,” he said.  He dropped your hand and wrapped both arms around your waist.  He snuggled his head into your neck, humming with satisfaction.

You rolled your eyes and replied, “Great thing to say to a control freak.”  You had reluctantly wrapped your arms around his neck and let the beat guide you both.  

‘And darling I will be loving you ‘til we’re 70,

And baby my heart could still fall as hard at 23,

And I’m thinking ‘bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways,

Maybe just the touch of a hand,

Oh me I fall in love with you every single day,

And I just wanna tell you I am,’

You could live this moment and play it ten million times over.  You felt that a World War III could happen, and you would be completely safe in Steve’s arms.  It felt like the whole world had diminished around you both.  In that moment, it was you and Steve, as he hummed the song in your ear.

When you both looked at each, you could feel yourself falling yourself into a deep, deep hole that you could never dig yourself out of.  The look in his eyes could only confirm what you both were feeling.  The warm feeling inside your and how your heart beats faster with those piercing blue eyes.  Oh, how you wish you stare into them forever.

“I love you,” he says quietly for you to hear.

“I love you,”  you repeat back to him.  You both lean in and it feels like the first kiss you both ever shared all over again.  You wish to have that memory written down in history as you both shared your first ‘I love you’s’.  

You were bought back to reality when Tony had shook your shoulder.  “You okay?”  He asks with concern plastered on his face.  

You look down and see your tears on the bar.  You looked away patting your eyes.  “I’m fine.  I just need to go home and get some rest.”  You hurried out of the seat before Tony could question you any further.  Before you could leave the ballroom, you looked back at Steve.  You watched the way he stared at Sharon, as it had been the same look he had when he told you he loved you.

“Give me the truth, me and my heart,

We’ll make it through,

If happy is her, I’m happy for you,

Don’t wanna be stone cold, stone,

I wish I could mean this but here’s your goodbye,”

It had been another tough mission, especially for you.  Your job was to secure the building before it could fall down.  You thought you had it cleared.  You checked every floor and room.  You called out for responses and did not hear one.  It wasn’t until you were out of the building and looking up.  It was then you noticed the little boy waving a white flag.

Before you could register what you were doing, you tried to rush into the building the save the boy.  You felt a pair of strong arms pull you off.  You look at Steve and see his pained eyes.  “It’s too late, (Y/N).”

You kept thrashing against him. “No, it’s not!  I can make it, Steve!  Just let me go!  Please!  I can do it!” You said.  Right as you finished your sentence, you hear the building begin to fall down.  You shout ‘no’ only hoping it could stop.  Steve holds you tight against his chest barely budging.  

When the building had crumbled down to half it size, you turned towards Steve with the most menacing look.  “This is your fault!  He is dead now because of you Steve!  I could have saved him!”  You shouted.  You continued to shout obscenities at him.  You had banged against his chest, ridding yourself of your anger.  When you finally finished, you looked down defeated.  You mumbled, “He shouldn’t have been a casualty.”

“I wasn’t going to let you be a casualty too, (Y/N),”  he said.  You looked into his eyes and saw defeat.  He pulled you in for a tight hug, running his hands through your hair.  You hugged back tightly for him being there.  Knowing if he wasn’t, you’d be in that crumbled mess of a building  You pull yourself apart and walk towards the jet with Steve’s eyes following you.

When you arrived back at base, you were the first one off.  You rushed to your room, only hoping a steaming shower could rid you of today’s memory.  When you finished you slipped on a hoodie and sweatpants.  

You then climbed out your window climbed up to the roof.  The roof was your safe spot after every rough mission. ��You find yourself staring at the sky, lost in the dark sky.  You would spot the stars and had only wish to be there this current moment.  

It wasn’t long before you heard shuffling and a body coming to your spot.  You had not acknowledge the presence and closed your eyes, listening to nature at night.

The person stood there quietly.  It was moments until he spoke.  “I saw your window open, and I only guessed that you could be up here,” Steve said, sitting down next to your.  

You sat up and hand you arms on your knees.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been up here.  This view is still so breathtaking,” he said.  You looked at the skyline and watched all the bright lights.  After a few more quiet moments, Steve looks towards you.  “You okay?  I know this mission was tough.”

You nodded your head.  “I’m fine… I just wish that boy wasn’t one of my casualties.  I should have done my job better.  If I had I would have found him and brought him out.  He wouldn’t be dead, Steve.  He looked so young,” you said.  You took a breath and closed your eyes trying to prevent the tears from falling.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault, okay?  He probably didn’t hear you.  We all know you did your best out there.  You put your whole self out there on each mission, (Y/N).  Without you, we’d have nothing done.  We’d probably be more injured than I care to admit.   I know you tried everything you could out there.  Believe it or not, you’re the strongest out of all of us..  You could always endure more when it came to missions.  You make us look like wusses,” Steve admitted.  

You laughed shaking your head.  He laughed along with your and wrapped his arms around you.  You smiled appreciating his comfort, placing a hand on top of his.  You laid your head on his shoulder and let the view relax you both.

You had only wished for times to be like this.  After each mission, you two would bring your box of pizza up and talk about endless things.  You had only wished for moments like these.  You yearned for them.

It felt like a lifetime before Steve started moving around.  “I should really go.  Sharon was making dinner, and I said I would help.  Do you want to come eat with us?”  Steve asked, hope in his eyes.  You shook your head, declining his offer.  “Well, I guess I’ll see you later, right?”  You nodded your head before turning back to your view.  Steve had started climbing down when you shouted his name.  “Yeah?”

“Are you happy with her?”  You asked.  You watched as confusion etched onto his face.

“Yeah, she’s made me the happiest man,” he said, smiling at the thought of Sharon.  You nod your head and feel your heart constricting.

“Do you love her?”  You asked.

“Why are you asking these questions, (Y/N)?”

You took a deep breath before replying, “It just got me thinking if I did go into that building, I would be dying with a broken heart and pain.  Pain from our break-up.  If you can convince me that you love her, then you’re helping me move on, Steve.  I need to move on.  I don’t want to hold onto you forever.  I want to find my own love.”

He nods his head thinking.  He replies with, “I love the way she can make me the happiest man with just one look.  Her smile, it’s so breathtaking.  Knowing I’m the cause, I always feel like the wind has been knocked out of me.  I love how she is so selfless.  She could care less about her life.  If she can just another’s, I know her life would be complete.  How her touch can electrify every feeling in my body, awakening in my senses.  I love how she stares off into the distance, and you know she’s thinking about something real hard.  I love no matter what pain she’s feeling, she’ll mask it just so no one will worry about her.  I could shout to the Gods above and profess my love.”

You looked at him and smiled.  “You two were meant to be.  Thank you, Steve.  Have a good dinner.”  You bid him farewell.  He waves goodbye and climbs in through the window.  

[incarnateseraphim]

Reluctance

There’s something about dying and coming back through drowning that’s a lot like baptism. The last words of the Nicene Creed have a special resonance for me when I say, “…we look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come.”

When I was caught in the undertow, or as it’s more commonly called now the riptide, at the age of 9 and dragged out without anyone noticing… I simply couldn’t breathe until I didn’t need to anymore. There was panic for the length of time it took for my air to run out and for me to inhale water, but then I was above it, watching my body roll by beneath me. Rising up to see my mom reading a paperback on the beach, having not yet noted my absence. I was aware I was dead. That I was not my body. Looking at my mom, I didn’t “feel” the normal rush of physical sensations that signal love to me, but I still experienced love for her.

I could see my sister, brother, and my sister’s friend swimming in deep water near the sandbar before I was caught in the sight/sound/overwhelming presence of glorious music and light that was calling  me away. It was like the feeling you have when something is so beautiful it makes you weep a little because it almost hurts? And I felt so much love from it, I felt so small and insignificant in the face of it, yet loved as if I was incomparably priceless and unique… but we are ALL loved that way and still there is more love overflowing… it was fall to your knees humbling. It was the home you always were searching for inside but could never find, the fill for that empty place you sense but can’t fill on Earth with drugs, or money, or whatever you try to put there. That hole is God shaped. I was suffused with JOY because I was GOING home… but then the worst thing in the world happened.

I was sucked back into my body, like a vacuum cleaner and opened my bleary salt stung eyes to my sister’s friend, a lifeguard it turns out, who’d found me facedown on the sandbar and performed CPR. Coughing and snotty, my throat salt sore,  she swam me back to my mom, where I burst into tears and tried to explain what had happened. She made me lay down next to her and patted my back and said that I was fine and nothing had happened and everything was okay. But it wasn’t, and it was… because it was only the beginning of God reaching into my life.

What does that flood of chemicals do to your brain? Dying I mean? As an adult I started to look into the stories of other people who shared experiences like mine. Of course, I also studied religions. For me, they were the same, records of people who’d had a brush with the Holy.  Some neuroscientists say that your brain releases neurotransmitters at death that causes hallucinations, because people who were given the same neurotransmitters have out of body experiences. But what if that burst of neurotransmitters is what launches your soul from your body, what if it’s a natural process that occurs at death, a way to flush you out?

What if you then come back? Your brain is changed in a fundamental way, it’s easier than ever to slip into an altered state. Could it be why people who’ve had NDE’s on MRI’s when recalling their experience have brainwaves that match Buddhist monks in deepest meditative states it’s taken them years to master?

I don’t know. What I do know is that things slip through to me. Mystical moments occur in my life. And I am not the first or only person this has happened to. It’s all too common among priests and holy people. Paul is an infamous example. It’s documented in religious sources, the Bible, and every other Holy Book. I’ve spoken with priests myself who have also been called to that life by a mystical experience, a communion with God.

Is it a voice? A presence? I can’t speak for anyone else.

For me, God speaks to me in the symbology of my own mind. We all have images, symbols we use to represent concepts and words in our minds. Sometimes it can be a smell or song or moment in time from your life that can represent a complicated feeling, or an image of a specific cat meaning warmth and love while another means grief and loss. When God speaks to me, he presents almost a montage or movie of concepts and images, a string of layered moments to spell out a message, sometimes the occasional sentence or word from nowhere.

This is the externality of it. That these images, sentences and combinations are often imagined or not at my beck and call and yet there they are streamed into my consciousness as a message. Sometimes in answer to a question. Sometimes without me asking. It can come when I am listening for guidance after receiving communion, or come at me when my mind lapses into auto-pilot in the shower. Those times it can feel like a giant finger is pressing lightly on the still pool of my consciousness until I bend and attend.

I am reluctant to share what I have heard and been told and ashamed of my reluctance. What prophet ever wanted to be one? Every tale told talks about the fearfulness of those who hear from God. I am no different. Sometimes I am afraid that if I speak of bad things I’ve been told it will make them come true, whereas if I remain silent and pray often and well, I can somehow avert disasters, convince God to delay or hold his hand. I feel as much witness as speaker. And there is a great love in me of people and of creation. God’s creations. All of them. After witnessing God, how could I not see the creator in all things? Yet, there is injustice in the world, and those that foster it and hurt others and themselves sew it at great peril to themselves and others. It fills me with righteous indignation that seems to flare so brightly within me that I cannot silence it.

Yet still, here I am, at last taking this first step in writing down what I need to in hopes it will be of use to someone, it will inspire and comfort. Give heart and help. Fulfill my mission. More to come.

[warcost]

despite the disappointment at the answer he offers a smile. it's half-there, as though the action of smiling is not something he's used to. but there is a warmth present, underneath it all, at least he hopes so.

riad feels the solar light from the lightbearer's hands and something in him aches at how familiar yet all the same unfamiliar it is. yes. his neighbors must be wrong. there is no light-shaped hole in his chest. not in the way he's read and heard so many describe it as. (yet there is a hole all the same.)

" perhaps that is comforting to know that my voice is recognizable in someway. " he says, genuine gratitude in his voice. " you need not replace my groceries, but the offer is greatly appreciated. "

he pauses for a moment, hesitant. he's spent so many years trying to figure out who he was, and what everyone meant to him, he's not entirely sure if he wants that now. he wouldn't know what to do with himself afterwords.

he's close to a breakthrough... he knows it. why stop now due to trepidation? " but i would be open to your accompaniment nonetheless, julia. "

he is ashamed. 

this is easy to gather; from the way he stutters to how his eyes find a very interesting point on the sidewalk, every piece of his body language screams of shame. she aches for him. she cannot imagine what it must be like to— well, no, that is a lie. that is how every guardian wakes. but at least she had a ghost, a built-in friend, and the Light to guide her. 

this man, it seems, has little more than the ruined groceries in his arms. julia pushes herself to her feet. one hand extends, to gently squeeze his hand. the warm pulse of sol’s light wafts from her fingertips. 

“you do not need to explain yourself,” says the titan, as though she could hear his thoughts. her smile is gentle, the corners of her eyes creasing with it. “i am sorry, if i caused you any distress. let me help with your groceries, i can—”

a pause, then, as the name is shared between them, along with his theory. julia desperately racks her brain for an inkling of remembrance. she knows that voice. she knows that it brings forth a sense of comfort, and a deep anxiety that settles between her shoulder blades. but she cannot place it. she does not know the name. her shoulders sag.

“no, i— i am sorry. i do not recognize your name.” her ears pin back. “but— but i know your voice, if that helps any. i know i do.” she will not mention the feelings it dredges, though; that is not for him to ever know. “so that… that is something, yes? a step forward. i— let me help with your groceries, riad. i can replace. maybe a walk around the bazaar will help trigger something!”

[warcost]

riad stares a moment longer before he gathers himself, hurriedly taking the ruined groceries from her. he feels like he's missing something... like he should pull his cowl closer, cover his face. it's not shame, it's something else and he can't quite place it. and he feels like he should know the name. like how he knows the names saint-14 and osiris and zavala and ikora. it must be nothing. echoes.

" i— i should be the one apologizing... " he ducks his head, staring down at the ruined bread and fruits and other items he'd dropped. " i am sorry my... my memory is... i was injured years ago and— "

he need not explain himself to a stranger. it's something he's been learning to try and contain. excuses for his motives. but now he feels a pressure, pushing up against his skull. (different from the ones he'd grown accustomed to before the traveler was cut open.)

" riad thelus. at least from what i recall... did you know someone with my name? my neighbors believe i might have been a guardian before the red war. " though he's not entirely sure he agrees. his hands are too soft and his face is too gentle to have known violence like guardians do.

the morning is her favorite time to wander through the city. it is quieter now, with stalls opening and elder patrons wandering the streets. children shuffling to school with sleep still heavy in their eyes. it is a peaceful morning. it is the calm she needs. and then it is shattered.

the sound of gasping, fruit rolling down the street— it steals from her this moment of peace. her attention shifts from nothing, narrowing to the man before her. she stumbles towards him, intending to help.

"i am so sorry! i didn't mean to— are you—"

it clicks, then, what the poor man has said. julia looks up from where she kneels at his feet, and her face scrunches in confusion. that voice. where does she know that voice? it is something so familiar, something that brings both a wave of comfort and a sense of soul-crushing anxiety.

"are you all right?" asks the titan instead as she stands, holding the now-bruised fruit and flattened bread in her hands. "i'm julia. i, uh... i am sorry, about the bread."