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frost-queen · 2 years ago

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A heart of woe // part 9 (Addams!Reader)

Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve,

@queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko,

@bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco @idkwhatmyusername, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07,

@aposthatisbored, @m-rae23 @happxme, @sunghoonspenguin, @danielle-marie , @fanficfanatic204, @ghostlycrystobalove, @rayliz793,

@thisistherealmekitty, @write-from-the-heart, @mgcldydrms, @melsunshine, @ghwoticz,

Summary: Feeling unwell, some of your friends try to help as best as they can while you go down a rabbithole of side-effects. The poison slowly claiming you. Yet what can be done against it? Read part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 10

Pulling the covers off you, you swung your legs out of bed. Sitting up straight, clamping onto the bed, you needed a moment to process what you were feeling. Your brows furrowed hearing your stomach rumble about. Squeezing your stomach, you hoped to silence it. – “Am I that hungry?” – you asked yourself hearing another groan. Looking to the side, you checked what time it was. Nowhere near sunrise. Squeezing your stomach tighter at the pain, you barely could hold it. – “I’m getting food.” – you said out loud, getting out of bed.

You slipped into your comfy slippers as black as night. At a slow pace you made your way over to the door. Stomach making sounds so loud you were glad no one was around to hear it. It would be so embarrassing. It took you a lot of strength to move your feet about. Barely able to lift them. Toes dragging over the floor till you lifted them briefly up to set your heel down. Halfway the hall, you paused to catch your breath.

You stumbled a bit further, dragging yourself forwards. Suddenly the walls felt like closing in on you. Twisting and turning in a blur. No longer able to distinguish the floor from the ceiling. Gasping for air, you stumbled to the side. Grabbing the first thing in reach. A door handle. The door handle flipped down and up by your force. Body crashing against the door as you had lost your balance. It took you a second to shake yourself awake.

On the other end of the door shot Enid awake. Eyes wide with fear. – “Wednesday.” – she shout-whispered, pulling the covers more up. Wednesday groaned in her sleep pulling her covers over her head. – “Did… did you hear that Wednesday?” – Enid asked frightful. – “Go back to sleep Enid.” – Wednesday replied moody. – “But… but… I heard something… in the hallway.” – her lip trembled. – “Then go look.” – Wednesday’s voice muffled from coming under the sheets. – “What if it is the Hyde?” – she freaked out pulling the covers over her head to hide.

Wednesday groaned loud. – “If I hear you scream I’ll know.” – she replied grinning with her eyes closed. Enid huffed loud, pushing her covers down. – “I thought you’d love to explore if it was the Hyde?” – she called out making sure her voice remained quiet enough yet loud and clear to deliver the message. Wednesday slapped her covers off her, staring at the ceiling. – “It better be the Hyde or I’m feeding you to it myself!” – she said getting up in one swift motion.

Enid swallowed nervously moving her covers away as well. – “Now I hope it is not.” – she said. Wednesday grabbed a flashlight making her way to the door. Enid followed wanting to stay close. Wednesday opened the door without hesitation as Enid yelped. – “Do you want to get eaten?” – she asked. Enid shook her head. – “Then stop squealing like a faint girl.” – she made clear with a deep sigh.

Wednesday shone her flashlight down the hallway. Enid grabbed for her shoulder as her light fell upon a figure. Wednesday gave her a bitter expression that made her let go. Wednesday casted her light better on the person recognizing you out of a million. – “Disappointing.” – she said dull. – “It’s my sister.” – Wednesday turned around heading back to her room. – “Wait!” – Enid called out. – “Aren… aren’t you curious to what she is doing so late?” – Enid questioned.

Wednesday stared at her. – “For all I care she is summoning ghosts.” – she answered with little care. Enid took the flashlight from her roomie. – “Well I am going to investigate.” – Enid had set her mind to it. Wednesday didn’t reply to it, closing the door behind her. – “Fine! I’ll be alright on my own.” – Enid said to the door. Turning around nervous, she couldn’t deny she was a bit anxious. What if you were truly going to summon ghosts. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to witness that.

Swallowing her doubt down, she went on with shaky legs. – “Y/n.” – Enid whispered, her flashlight shuddering in her grip. The light bounced up and down. Too nervous to keep it steady. – “Y/n wait up.” – she called out when she was losing sight of you. Enid started running. Going down the stairs as you were already going down them. – “Y/n.” – Enid whispered seeing your hand slide against the wall for grip. – “Are you alright?”

Enid started to run faster. At the foot of the stairs, she caught you. Grabbing you firmly by your arm, turning you around to her. – “Y/n!” – she said shining her light at you. You squeezed your eyes partly shut at the bright light. Enid gasped moving back. – “Are… are you alright?” – she asked panicky seeing the sweat glimmer on your face. – “Just… just hungry I guess.” – you told her, squeezing your stomach more. Enid frowned. – “Does your stomach hurt?” – she asked moving your hand away.

You nodded, bending over at the pain. – “It’s like I haven’t eaten in ages.” – you explained. Enid took you by the arm to keep you standing up straight. She hummed deep looking thoughtful around. – “I don’t think the nurse would be pleased if I wake her up.” – she said to herself out loud. You flinched hearing your own stomach growl. – “Did… did you perhaps ate something bad at the Carnival?” – Enid asked, trying all possibilities.

“I don’t know.” – you answered. – “All I ate was cotton candy.” – reminding her. Enid shone her flashlight at a door. – “Perhaps we can go look for a snack or medicine.” – she looked at you wondering which approach you wanted. – “Food.” – you said clear. Enid moved her arm around you to support you. She didn’t want you to fall to the ground.

Enid found her way to the cafeteria easily in the dark. She led you to the back behind the counters. With her back, she pushed the heavy doors open. The room was cooler. Enid set you down on a chair. Laying her flashlight on the table. Your eyes needed a second to adjust to the light Enid had switched on. – “Okay what do you want?” – she said opening the fridge. You shrugged your shoulders. – “Anything eatable.” – you answered. – “Eatable. Got it.” - Enid repeated searching the fridge.

She grabbed a blood bag, looking disgusted at it for a moment. She shuddered while placing it back. She dove in with both her hands. Shoving things aside in search for something presentable enough to actually make one want to eat. Most things were stomach turners in her eyes. You felt your stomach contract together, freaking you out. – “Enid…” – you said. – “What?” – Enid replied speeding up her search, picking up packs of raw meat to look underneath.

“I don’t feel so good.” – you told her, feeling your stomach growl. Enid gasped bailing on her task to find food. – “Emergency!” – she called out, running around in search for a bucket. She found one with traces of yellow liquid in it. Thinking what it could be almost made her gag. She didn’t find anything else, going back with the bucket to you. – “Sorry I couldn’t find a clean one.” – she said.

You took the bucket from her, holding it close to your chest. – “Good enough.” – you answered. You stuck your head in it, taking a good sniff. – “Disgusting Y/n.” – Enid called out with a pulled up nose. – “It’s not puss… too bad.” – you told her. Enid faked a gag sound at the horrid idea. – “You know you are one sicko sometimes.” – she said. – “Thank you.” – you answered trying to smile. Enid patted you on your head with a deep sigh. – “Still need any food?” – she asked to be sure. You pulled your shoulders up, feeling a tat better.

Enid moved back to the fridge, taking one last look. Your lips parted feeling lightheaded. – “E…Enid…” – you breathed out. Enid hummed loud, her finger in her mouth, a cup of pudding in her other one. She dropped her pudding at the sight of you. She came running over as you couldn’t see straight. Enid moving from side to side in a wave. – “Y/n! You are looking pale. More then ever!” – she exclaimed in a panic.

“I’m getting your sister!” – she pulled herself up as you stopped her by grabbing her arm. – “No Wednesday!” – you made clear. – “Y/n I can’t attend to you like this? You are clearly sick!” – she called out in a panic. She pulled out her phone, clutching onto it. – “Let me at least call Tyler then! He might know what to do… please.”

You let go of her arm. Enid turned around making the call. The air around you was tightening. – “I…I need fresh air.” – you said getting up. Enid was too busy calling on the phone she hardly heard you leave. You left through a back door, finding a way outside. You took in a deep breath, letting your head fall back. Dropping the bucket you started walking.

Barefoot in the grass. The moon full between the leaves of the trees. Taking another deep breath, you started to feel better. Stumbling through the woods to wherever your bare feet were carrying you. The cold breeze didn’t do you anything. The cold seemed to make you feel clear. Sane. You wandered further in the woods enclosing your school.

Guided by the moon and dark. You smiled feeling almost esthetic. Euphoric of some kind. You smiled wider seeing grim faces appear in the trees. Blood dripping down the bark made you look giddy at it. Heart pattering just a bit faster. What a dream this was.

“Y/n!” – Tyler called out spotting you through the trees. He came running over nearly tripping over his own feet. He bumped hard against you, wrapping his arms around you. He exhaled deeply relieved. Cupping your cheeks, he lifted your head a bit up to meet with his eyes. – “Are you alright. Enid called me that you were feeling unwell.” – he said taking a good look at you. – “I’m fine.” – you told him with a wave dismissing it.

Tyler furrowed his brows. – “What… what are you doing out here in the woods? It’s not save.” – he clenched his jaw, looking around. You started laughing making him frown. – “I am the most dangerous thing here in the woods.” – you teased with a little shove. Tyler chuckled. – “I know.” – he answered. He kissed your forehead teasingly. He wrapped his arms around you, letting his head rest against your side. – “Does your stomach still hurt?” – he asked.

You shook your head. – “Was it the cotton candy?” – he whispered lips close to your ear. – “Or the tea?” – you said making him widen his eyes. He moved you at arms-length. – “What tea?” – he asked frantically. – “Misses Thorn-“ – you started as he let go of you stumbling back. Your eyes widened feeling a strong contraction in your stomach. Tyler gasped, looking with fear at you. You coughed, a dark thick liquid spewing out of your mouth. Droplets hit Tyler on his shirt, making him move his arms up.

More dark liquid came out of your mouth as it stained your chin. You kept coughing it out as it kept coming. – “No!” – Tyler yelled out, catching you when you dropped down. The blackness kept coming out of you as you were slowly choking on it. – “No! no, no, no!” – he called out holding your body. Your chest spasmed as the black liquid sputtered out of your mouth. – “No! Please!” – Tyler panicked, his hand trembling as it tried to brush against your cheek.

He almost choked on his own tears watching you choke on the poison. It was clear to him she’d poisoned you. He wiped his tears away, getting up his feet as he carried you. – “Hold on Y/n!” – he made clear. – “I will not let you die on me!” – he started running back to the school, hoping he wouldn’t be too late for an antidote.

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levis-coffeecup · 6 months ago

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chapter 26| Promise

WC-4.0k

Summary

The underground is filthy and dark. Dim lights, dull alleys, and desperate hearts. A place Levi knows as well as the back of his hand, and a place he would do anything to get out of.

Chapters of life roll by and with the turn of a page, things drastically change. In front of him is the opportunity to live on the surface. And the flimsy bridge that he has to cross. From an uncivil criminal to a disciplined soldier.

But life on the surface seems tougher amidst all the mockery, civilities, and the gaping hole left in his heart, after the demise of his dear friends Isabel and Farlan.

Content/Warnings

canon- compliant, canon-typical violence, spoilers for No Regrets OVA, descriptions of PTSD, grief, depression, heavy angst and themes, strong language, self-hate, physical assault.

Author’s Note

Hiiii,

This is definitely one of my favorite chapters in the fic. Had this chapter in mind, ever since I was coming up with the idea of writing this fic.

Hope you enjoy it, as much as I enjoyed writing it! Song for this chapter is Aaj Jaane Ki Zidd Na Karo by Arijit Singh.

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Masterlist | Playlist | Other Works

MAY 850

The harsh summer sun is waning, and the clouds part to reveal a gradient of pink and purple in the sky. The incoherent chatter of passers plays like white noise, and Levi walks through the narrow lanes of Trost.

He finds the evening sky is calming.

He was here, just a few days ago too. Busy running away from Kenny and protecting Eren from the clutches of the royal family.

But things are different today. The stress on his mind has reduced immeasurably. There is a slight bounce in his gait, and he almost smiles, as he sees two kids run past him, with a kite in their hands.

Things have started falling back into normalcy. From the capture of the Female Titan to the false breach of Rose. Humanity is slowly healing.

And to Levi, the humdrum of a mundane life has always felt comforting .

Mae’s house appears at a distance. It doesn’t look the same as before, but the repairs made by the government are functional. Mae seems to be comfortable.

And Levi smiles as he sees a candle, flickering through the window. She’s home.

He picks up his pace, the beat of his heart picking up as well.

The yellow walls that he once looked at with distaste, have now found a place in his heart. And a simple slab of wood has never seemed so welcoming. It feels like he hasn’t seen her in forever.

His knocks on her door almost seem urgent. And he taps his foot to somehow contain his excitement.

Then he hears the sound of the latch being opened. And he’s just about to make a comment about her taking a crap for too long. But her voice reaches him first, taut from all the crying.

When the door finally opens, Levi is taken aback by the sight of her..

Her hair is disheveled, her cheeks are tear stained. And her eyes sing of the tragedies and woes of all mortal beings.

The picture is hauntingly similar to the time when her parents died.

“Levi.” her voice frays. The sound tugs all his heartstrings, and he steps inside, closing the door behind him.

Her composure breaks the moment she meets the gray in his eyes. And her hands tremble as they cradle his face. Staunch disbelief makes her eyes go wide, and a single tear falls from her waterlines. As if millions haven’t fallen before already. “I-I thought you were dead,” she croaks.

The pain in her eyes is just a glimpse of what she’ll go through, the day he actually ends up dying. And Levi gulps at the sight. The possibility of that happening is higher than he’d like to tell her.

It’s a happy day though. He should think of happier thoughts.

“Come here,” he opens his arms wide, welcoming her in a hug. And she jumps into his arms desperate to feel the pulse inside his chest.

Her shoulders quake with an intensity that makes Levi queasy. Her restlessness gets the best of her. And her grip around him doesn’t loosen, even when he carries her to the couch, and sits on it. “Where were you?” she cries. “ So m-many people were t-telling me t-that you were k-kiled by the government.”

He rove his hand over her head. “ I’m alright… I’m right here, aren’t I?” And the pads of his finger are gentle as they wipe the tears slipping down her face. “I’m going to be safe now… Historia is the new Queen.”

He speaks with logic, but he does not make sense to her.

Her hands still tremble against his skin. Scared that he will disappear into thin air.

She looks like she hasn’t slept for days. And his heart breaks, unable to comprehend the turmoil she’s been through this past week, while he was busy with his undercover mission.

In an attempt to distract her, he bends and takes out the knife he keeps strapped to his ankles. “Here..” he holds it out to her. “Sasha stitched this wound for me,… but it must have healed by now… mind, taking the stitches off?”

“Wound?” She panics. It’s something that completely slipped past her mind. “ Oh my god! I didn’t consider that, and I just jumped on you.” Her hands start frantically roving over his frame. “Are you hurt anywhere, did you-”

“Sweetheart, “ a rare laugh slips past his lips, and he cuts her off by putting his finger on her lips. “Wouldn’t I walk differently if I had an injury that serious?”

He takes off his shirt and turns his right arm towards her. “See, one wound is, that’s all… not a scratch anywhere else.”

And Mae gulps, as she takes the knife in his hands.

No matter what she thinks of, the facts, the wins, the strength of Levi Ackerman, the tears don’t stop. They rage like the walls of a dam, left abused and broken. And every part of her still trembles. Her fear still holds her in a vice grip.

It all started when she heard a few distant gunshots. Then the fight between Levi and the Military Police became the talk of the town. People saw him dash through the roads, with the police hot on his tail. Some saw him surrounded by armed men in a Tavern as well.

In the next few hours, the government was arresting the Survey Corps, Erwin was going to be prosecuted, and Levi was nowhere to be found.

And all Mae heard all day long were rumors about his disappearance, and the thoughts of his dead corpse. She couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t eat. Completely consumed by the anxiety of losing him.

Next thing she knew, there were wanted posters with a drawing of Levi on every wall. He had a huge bounty on his head, and she even heard people conspire ways they would find him.

As it is she faced the fear of losing him with every mission he went on. But now he wasn't even safe inside the walls? The one place she thought he'd be safe…

Days came and went.

The long line of patients at her clinic somehow kept her busy during the day.

But the nights were the same. With her tossing and turning in bed, helpless. She physically felt her heart rip to pieces, at the thought of never seeing Levi again.

The knife in her hand quivers as she brings it closer to the bandage wrapped around his upper arms. She hasn’t lost him yet, the thought leaves a bittersweet aftertaste.

Then Levi cups both of her cheeks, and looks into her eyes.

The knife is so close to his skin. Unsheathed and sharp. And yet he stills for minutes. And yet he closes his eyes as he presses his forehead to hers.

It's a different kind of intimacy, not one he even registers now. All his are instincts pushed to the side

And as he keeps her in his palms, foreheads pressed and eyes closed, his love conquers. And he wastes no time to claim her, pressing his lips onto hers.

She melts with every little kiss. And she finds herself, settling into his warmth . Losing herself in the feeling of his lips against hers. It's so strong, that it pulls her out of her fears, and tethers her back to the world.

He angles her face, as he pulls her closer. And she finds home, in the erratic rhythm of his heart.

When they part, all their worries scurry away, even if it’s just for a fleeting moment. And Levi puts his head on Mae’s lap. Tired from all the happenings of the week.

So much has happened, and much more is bound to happen. The mystery of the titans is only unfolding. And so far it has been taxing. His eyelids start drooping shut, and his breath evens out.

When he looks up he sees Mae. And she smiles, still teary-eyed. Holding him with such tenderness, it makes him feel delicate.

He lets the warmth of her eyes wash over him.

“Mae,” he reaches an arm up to touch her face.

And Mae nods, pushing away the hair that falls on his forehead.

“Kenny… “ he gulps. “Keny didn’t leave me because I wasn’t good enough…”

And she tucks a strand of hair behind his earlobe “I always told you, you were perfect, didn’t I?”

A rare smile traces on his lips. And even though his cynical mind wants to run off with more questions , he lets that part of him rest. The last thing he remembers before sleep comes to him is Mae telling him she’ll make a mask for his hair in the evening.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

AUG 850

The night treats Mae cruelly.

It's cold, heavy, and dark. The lights are dimmed out, and people sleep peacefully in the illusionary safety of these walls. Forgetting that there is still a war to be fought, an enemy to be conquered.

Days have passed by in a flash.

And restlessness has conquered her thoughts. Peace has eluded her. And she can only try to comfort herself, as she looks at the tall walls that surround Trost.

Levi goes past them tomorrow. Tomorrow he goes to conquer Shinghansina again.

And yet he isn’t beside her.

She decides to not read into it. She knows how he can be sometimes. And she knows how stressful the nights before a mission are. Especially for a mission as tough and risky as this one.

The Survey Corps is going to go all out.

The wind blows in her face. And her lips tremble as she looks over the sleeping city. The uncertainty of tomorrow’s mission has captured her entire heart. And its claws dig in. Slicing gashes across her skin, and making her heart bleed.

She feels dizzy, and a single tear slips past.

His memory haunts, night and day. She wishes he was here, spending a few moments with her before he puts his life on the line again.

But her job is to make his life easier, not to burden him with her desires. And she can only hope that he finds the time to come meet her, before he leaves for the mission tomorrow.

She can only hope she’s being good to him.

And Levi sits in the dark corner of a desolate shop. With a bottle of whisky by his side, and his hands touching the filthy dust on the floor.

Outside, the sound of Eren, Mikasa and Armin fills the quietness. They chatter about all that is lost and all that they still look forward to.

In them he sees Isabel and Farlan. After all they too were naive, young kids who were forced to grow up a little too young.

Armin concludes that he wants to see the sea. The enthusiasm woven in his voice is infectious.

And Levi gulps. Isabel wanted to see the sky too.

And yet he is the only one who gets to see the sky everyday. It’s unfair, something he doesn’t deserve after all the times he’s fucked up.

Tomorrow is a big day though. He hopes he can make them proud. And he hopes he can avenge all his fallen comrades.

The thought makes him feel content yet also nervous. They’ve come a long way. And yet they stand at a place where everything is uncertain.

No one knows how many shifting titans wait for them out on the battle ground. No one knows the type of terror might be hauled onto them. And for the first time, Levi is failing to understand Erwin’s motives as well.

The thought itself makes him furious. And he plops open the cork of the bottle, and gulps down its contents.

The alcohol burns his throat and bleeds into his bloodstream. Ushering him to the brink of a collapse, that he is dangerously close to.

Every time he shuts his eyes close, his heart begins to race. Wrecked by the weight of the world and the cynicism in his head.

He brings the bottle to his lips again. Gobbling the liquid until the bottle is half way done. It’s a good distraction.

A good distraction from the people that will inevitably die tomorrow. A good distraction from Erwin, who despite his pitiful condition is hellbent on going to the mission

Mikasa, Eren and Armin get up, and Levi doesn’t try to hide in the shadows. He’s a little too absorbed in his grief to even think of that. Fortunately for him, they don’t notice either.

He drinks, he drinks, he drinks up his misery. It's one of those days, where every loss he has ever endured comes crashing towards him.

His eyes ache, tired. His brain throbs, numb. And his entire body hurts, but it doesn’t stop trembling from restlessness. He’s exhausted, but sleep can’t grace him. He’s hungry, but the stress of the mission also takes his appetite away.

The night gets colder, and he shivers, sticking closer to the musty wall he rests his back on.

He fears he’s a little too close to self destruction. Shrouded by darkness, surrounded by doubts. A little too far away from everything and everyone.

And with his tattered soul, he carries himself to the only home he’s ever known.

━━━━━━━

It's 1 in the morning when Mae’s door rattles open. And she can’t help the tears that spring up in her eyes as she takes in Levi’s form.

Levi’s eyes give away. Distressed underneath the expectations he has for himself, and tormented by the uncertainty that comes along with the mission.

His breathing is heavy and she rushes closer to him. Taking the empty bottle of whisky from his hands and hauling him inside. “Where have you been all this while,” she reprimands.

Not an answer. It's often like this with Levi. He still hesitates to open up, to show where it hurts.

To him it's still a mere weakness.

Little does he know, she loves him the most when he’s weak and vulnerable, yet strong in his resolve and ambition. So beautifully human.

She makes him sit on the couch and snakes an arm around his waist, to hold him still. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Tch,” he scoffs and pushes her away. “Of course I’m alright, I know my limits with alcohol, I’m not going to drink when there's a mission 12 hours from now.” His tone is confident, but his eyes remain vacant.

His body is here, physically present. But he is somewhere else, a distant place where she can’t reach no matter how hard she tries. And she feels lost in all the darkness he resides in.

“I’ll run you a warm bath to clean you up, or would you like some tea.” She pleads, hoping something helps. The last thing she wants is for him to go on the mission in such a miserable state.

But he doesn’t answer again. He just sits, quietly fluming, and overwhelmed as hell.

And Mae rushes to bring a wet washcloth, to wipe the dirt gathered on his knuckles.

The cooling sensation of the cloth brings him back to this earth. And he watches as she takes his hand in hers, and gently rubs the filth away.

His eyes drop to her lips, and he blinks. The strings of his heart tug at him, feeble when she’s with him.

Her love alone has the strength to make him surrender. And he leans in, pressing a gentle peck on her lips. It’s a sweet distraction.

A couple moments pass by in stifling silence. And as she gets up to put the cloth away, his hand latches to her wrist.

“Sit…here.” There’s an underlying agony in his voice, that��makes her break a bit.

He can never see how sad he looks from her perspective.

And whilst Levi struggles with the criticality of tomorrow’s mission, Mae struggles with something too.

The possibility of losing him.

Turmoil has weighed heavily over her the past few days. From one thing to another, she’s hardly gotten any rest. And now Levi leaves again tomorrow. It feels like sadness looms over them like a heavy cloud ready to rain.

“Come let's sleep, honey… “ She sits next to him again. “You have a mission tomorrow.” Her voice almost frays at the cruelty of the moment. The condition he’s in breaks her to pieces.

“No I don’t want to sleep,” his answer is immediate. Maybe he’s having it a little too hard with his nightmares. “You go and sleep. I’ll just stay here for a while.”

“I slept already… in the afternoon today,” she lies. Deciding that Levi needs her more, than she needs her sleep. “How about we put a mattress on the terrace, and watch the stars?”

And Levi follows, always working well with orders.

He helps her take the mattress up the stairs.

The night has turned colder and the cold bites at his hands. He shivers as he sits unusually stiff.

Soon Mae brings a set of blankets and pillows, to keep the both of them warm. And they lay down, watching the stars twinkle above.

The stars always made Levi feel better, a constant reminder of where he had begun and how far he has come. And Mae hopes that today they remind him of how proud she is of him.

She holds his hand first, and then she turns towards him. Shifting close.

And Levi gives in, defeated and exhausted. She takes her time to gently kiss the creases between his brows. Until they fade

Their feet mingle under the warm blanket. And they snuggle up, arms wrapped around each other.

Moments trickle by in silence and the effect of the alcohol fades away. The only thing that remains now is the warmth of her arms and the steadiness of her breath.

And Mae is a reminder that whilst there isn’t much positivity in this cruel cold world, there is always warmth.

He takes a deep breath. The sound of which is loud in the silence.

“My mom…” He exhales heavily. “I don’t remember much of her, but she would say that the stars are nothing but the souls of all the people that have left the world. Scattered across the darkness, so that when we look up at the sky and remember their stories.”

And Mae frowns the longer she looks at him. “A lot of people are going to die tomorrow, aren’t they?” She speaks with sadness.

“Death is the only thing that’s certain,” he jokes.

And Mae doesn’t understand whether Levi needs to be comforted, or to be heard.

“You’ll do your best… I’m sure of it. And that’s all you can do Levi, that’s all that’s in your control.”

His eyes flit from the stars to her. And he feels a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re so good to me.” His tone softens and he pulls her closer. And she doesn’t know whether it's the alcohol acting up, because Levi hardly gets drunk. Or if it's all the stress that's taking a toll on him.

A beat of silence passes by. And as she looks into the soft gray of his eyes, she realizes how quickly time is passing by. Like dust flying in a sandstorm.

Slowly she places her hand on the crown of his head. And her lips find the arch of his cheekbone.

She can feel the war on his skin. In his calluses and his scars, and the way his hardened eyes only soften for the bits when he’s with her.

Levi is his battle and half of that is hers.

She needs to be brave enough to let him go.

“Say Levi,” her voice lingers, uncertain with doubt. She questions whether the troubles on her mind should be picked apart now out of all times.

But time waits for no one

And she might never see the gray in his eyes turn blue in the sunlight. She might not see the new scars on his body. He might die tomorrow, erased from her life. Becoming a memory so distant, that she can only remember, never experience.

And if Levi dies tomorrow then the words in her mind will never get the chance to settle in his heart. “If I ask you for something, will you do it for me?”

He parts away from her, taking in the destruction on her face.

A thickness settles in his throat, and he frowns the longer he looks at her.

Because he knows he can’t give her anything other than his heart.

Hell, he can’t even assure her that he’ll come back alive. Because this mission will be dangerous, and if his death becomes important for victory, then he’ll have to sacrifice himself for the greater good.

“That depends on what you ask of me.” His voice comes out wispy. He feels like such a failure. These might as well be the few last moments he spends with her, and yet he has nothing but his own misery to share with her.

“If you die -” her lips shudder, pressing into a thin line. Words fail her, not able to slip out of her mouth without a sob.

“If you die… tomorrow, or whenever.” Tears fill her lash line, and she tries to blink them away.

She needs to be strong. She needs to be strong enough to convince him

“If you die tomorrow…, d-do you promise me that you’ll d-die happy? Will you think of how far you've come, instead of all your failures and regrets?” Her eyes sparkle, in the sadness they are trying to cage, but there is also so much love endowed in her gaze.

Because Levi stumbled into life, and then became her life.

Her biggest fear will always be losing him. But Levi doesn’t need to know that. Not for his sanity at least.

And so she pulls out the sweetest, fakest smile. Betraying the tears lingering in her eyes. “ Most of all, I want you to know that I’ll be fine,” her voice cracks.

“So…” Her fingertips shudder as they trace his jawline. “I don’t want you to feel guilty about leaving me behind if you end up dying.”

And Levi pulls her close. Letting her cry into his arms. After all, who is she trying to fool?

And Mae breaks in an instant. He can feel the violent shudder of her shoulders and the wet patches that her tears leave on his shirt.

His fingertips card through her hair, and his other hand slips underneath her top. He focuses on the softness of her skin, and her scent. And the bitterness of life hits him hard, as he hears her trying to suppress her sobs.

In the 4 years that they’ve been together, he’s not given her much. Not a comfortable life, not sweet flirty compliments or a million gifts. Not even a reason to stay honestly.

And only they’ve known what an abnormal relationship it has been. With meeting her once every three months, to letters that have been delivered to the wrong person. He has missed her birthdays. He has responded to her letters very late. And he’s always walked so close to death.

She’s been through hell just to be with him. And even now, she tells him to not worry about leaving her behind, instead of begging him not to die.

He feels so loved and privileged.

“You’re so strong.” he whispers into her hair. It’s his way of praising her selflessness.

“Really?” she manages to mutter despite her hushed cries. And he finds it so sad that she still doesn’t see herself the way he sees her.

“Mhmm,” he hums. “Humanity’s Strongest is telling you that. Are you doubting him?”

“To me he’s always been Humanity’s Cutest.”

“Tch,” He clicks his tongue. Somehow the nickname still annoys him.

The next day brings hell for both of them. And with gentleness, Levi picks Mae’s head up and forces her to look at him.

“Mae…” The conflict in his voice is palpable, but there’s also a strong resolution hidden underneath. “I can only make the promise you’re asking for, if you make a promise to me as well.”

“What promise?” Her brows furrow, and she looks up at him through her clumpy lashes.

And his lips morph into a bittersweet smile, as he holds her in his eyes a moment longer. “If I die tomorrow, or in the future…, then find another-”

“WHAT! NOOO.” Mae interjects, knowing where he’s headed with this.

“Find another man,” he mutters heavily, as he pushes her hair behind her ear and presses a kiss on her upper lip. ”A man who can make you happy and give you stability and security. Find someone who can give you a normal life… a family.”

“Levi noooo,” she whines, and as she looks up at him, fresh tears crowd her waterlines.

The sound of her sobs fills the emptiness of the night. She can’t love anyone the way she loves Levi. It has captured her entire being, and the man who comes into her life next, will be only left with the remnants that Levi leaves of her.

She shifts to her side, turning her back towards him. Maybe she’s childish, but Levi is being unreasonable too. How dare he ask her to find someone else, when he knows how much she loves him?

“I am yours and I only want to be yours,”she speaks with sternness. And Levi places her hand on the dip of her waist, but she picks it up and pushes it away.

“Mae..” his voice teeters at the edge of a plea. “I can’t give you the life you deserve.”

“You don’t have to give me anything Levi,” she turns towards him, almost furious. “I make my own money. All I want is your heart and your companionship… I knew the risks I took when I decided to be with you… And I'd rather be alone, than to find someone else.” she concludes.

And Levi has been alone too. But Mae has taught him how wonderful companionship can be.

He doesn’t want her to be lonely.

"Seeing me with another man, will that make you happy?" she taunts.

"Seeing you happy will make me happy…" he whispers with tenderness, as his fingertips wipe her tears away.

"If I tell you to find another girl after I die, would you do it?"

"No,” he answers, without pondering for even a millisecond.

"Then why should I?" She retorts.

"Because this relationship was something I never expected in my life. I am grateful to have experienced having one, and that is enough for me, but can you confidently tell me that you have never dreamed of getting married? Of having a family?"

His questions are met with silence. Instead Mae glares at him, too slack jawed to find her reasonings. And resolve slips so easily from her features, as she thinks about what she wants for once.

She’s always dreamt of getting married and starting a family.

The bitter truth hits home, and she curls into herself.

“But Levi…” her voice comes out feeble. “ I want all of those things with you… I want to live the rest of my life as your lover… and your lover only.”

A bittersweet smile finds Levi’s lips. He hopes she can experience the love that she’s made him feel. He hopes she finds someone who pampers her and gives her all his time in the world. And unfortunately that person can never be him.

"You're always going to be my only lover, the only woman I have ever laid my eyes on," he coos as he places a kiss on the crook of her neck. "You-you'll always be m--my girl," His arms around her tighten, and her cries get louder.

Destiny has made their love too strong, yet the world so cruel.

"Sweetheart," his voice quivers. He’d rather have a bullet in his stomach than to hear the painful sound of her sobs. "Please."

He feels like he’s only seen her cry these past few months.

And so kisses her, relentlessly, wholly.

It might as well be the last time he gets to do it.

Morning comes closer, and the stars start to fade.

And when they part, they rest their foreheads against each other. Stealing a moment’s heaven before hell falls on the earth again.

"If I keep my promise, will you keep yours?. Even if it seems incredibly hard.” She speaks against his skin.

"I will." he affirms with unwavering confidence. Their pinkies intertwine.

The world falls into the brink of dawn, slowly waking to the day that’s in front of them. But Levi and Mae remain still, not ready to move on yet. With their eyes shut and their foreheads pressed.

"When I die, look up to the stars for me… I'll be watching after you.” Levi breaks the silence. His voice is wispy, but awfully sweet.

"Will you be smiling at me?" Mae questions back with utmost innocence.

And he smiles in response, "only if you smile at me first."

The sunlight catches her features. And her eyes sparkle, both with pain and love.

His heart pounds, and he takes his sweet time, holding her in his gaze. If he were to die now, it would be a sweet death.

I don't have much to say hehe. But I would love to know what you thought about the chapter! I'm open to feedback as well!

See you next Saturday!

Taglist: @keijikunn @evas-leslas @leviackermanmyhero245 (message me if you want to be added)

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vormov · 1 year ago

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part 1 ('windspokes')

i told you a million times that we aren't here for that, like please enjoy the here and now don't be so preoccupied. let that fear in you grow to explode

you'll know what i mean when you feel it and this will be a certainty that you keep with you and them everyday, they know ancient secret won't you relent piece together what was left, and send it so that many others might see our works like a light to the oblivious which way this tide goes. i'd lift above if i weren't so tethered by such self and with a glimpse of tomorrow we fell into the forever, like all the dimensions were gone and dispensed in a bucket to be recovered at the end of your trip.

i'll light the beacon at the top the top of this decaying tower it sees us with it's shadow it knows us within this closure space. with wit they flew beyond like untethered by the aether among such windspokes will a mind flow sideways around and around, like pages to be spent. feel it again and speak.

at last a flight in the sky! i've wish'd this again and again just to go home and feel that one moment where i belong, so nice! it becomes fleeting as we go forward, like each moment i have to ascend and become more aloft without a tether again, 'oh woe is me' we laugh.

a song plays in the distance where i recognize but don't hear it quite so well, a feeling of welcomed disease definitely write this one down for later i'm sure we can find something cool there.

i've never been more certain that i was jaded not sure not sure hey i've always wanted to say that i think we share a special space and time no other can be it, it is ours forever no thing can come between us and remembering it once it is gone. not sure, not sure i've never been more certain i wasn't jaded.

("oh mercury oh mercury…")

i'll leave a piece of myself here maybe some drifter will find it and know there was a safehaven here, if even for a second. ever wonder if somebody thought about your energy after you left? i wonder.

…

(11-15-23 -- probably part of a series. hello again)

#2023 #my poem #stream of consciousness #alt lit #spilled words #my writing #life #music inspired #poem #poetry #writing #new poets society #fuck war #i'm probably becoming unhinged

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terrifickid · 11 months ago

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People are killers. They've killed the most entire species of other earthlings since a massive asteroid blew up the whole planet 60 million years ago. They're killers and I don't take it personally.

And the top 1% of killers, in their leisure time, do collaborate to make fantastical justifications that they in fact can continue to keep doing it with blind force they deem heroic.

I have no problem with any of this. And here at the end of all things feel liberated from my requirement to involve myself in their total crime.

It's more of a taunt.

I know I'm a good person.

And I know I'm being murdered.

So now I can say fuck you openly and have everyone hemmed in to knowing that's exactly what I mean with no further retaliation for telling them they're weak sauce naked nothings. Vile killers. And they don't know up from down.

I can do it because I'm held blameless for suicide by this very assault. And with the attainment of the diagnosis and the world spiritual heritage I have nothing to lose and therefore can't be countered.

They'd have to save me and keep not saying shit to keep me alive and then I got them. All those step-fathers who wrecked my shit, all that laughter.

Not one of them knows what nice is, or could argue they do have testicles.

So it's fully 100% game.

And what, I lose again growing old and eating shit and realizing they were right about all the cocaine and the misery of it all? Think again, I bounce ever-young and essentially storm the quiefs in Valhalla.

I hate the vainglorious. This life gave me the chance to spit at them. I'll get over it if it's wrong but it may not be.

Go live a life in the DPRK if you're so sure I'm a misogynist. Why not?

I'll wait.

You can't.

I already got it. I live in glory forever, what happens next is your choice which saves or damns your own bullshit ass.

Hey tk

Bye tk.

Who the fuck are you?

Spit at the vainglorious? Ya nameste child. That's just me. No I won't exist with the vainglorious. I'll drown in Styx somehow. I can not be with you. So I'll find a way to become annihilated, eternal fart, cat Jedi or son of a saint. And if I can't than you

Cease to be.

I mean, it's definitely not the same when you're there. David Lindsay my schizophrenic friend drowned himself in the Colombia. I think if I put rocks in my backpack I would sink down and I think choking on water wouldn't be that bad. I don't know I've never considered suicide or attempted it. I know I can make any choice so I think I could do it technically. Will I chicken out? I might. I don't typically do things I regret and I don't recall turning back from something ever once I've decided and I have no regrets. This isn't a woe as me thing. It's been a party for like 10 years straight, ww3, plagues, mental disability and the first moment of my life was my mother shitting on me. I could suck dick for coke but I can't make that decision. And I won't join the Nazi party.

I'd fish on an island but it's illegal. I might try though. I think jungle cat life, where I hunt and gather away from folks in nature is how I'll live if I do. But kneel to Xerxes hahaha.

Call me silly but I legitimately feel imminently threatened with inescapable death by everyone and their collective falsifiable extinction level direct action.

Meaning I ain't in the mood for your hello, your dream of etiquette or lamaz breathing partnership for your volcanic rage when I don't want your greasy nose picking jerk off hand near me thief.

Ok I heard you out, went to permiacare, went on meds and I'm celibate and working on a solution to a problem nobody can solve.

Now get the fuck away from me.

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mariacallous · 2 years ago

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China, once again, seems to be mucking about in Afghanistan’s mineral-rich playground. The latest move is a maybe, could-be deal worth billions to tap Afghanistan’s rich veins of lithium, the key input for the energy transition that powers everything from laptops to electric cars. It could mean that billions of dollars will be pouring into securing a prosperous future for one of the world’s poorest countries. It probably won’t. The deal, like so much else China has done with Afghanistan in the last several decades, is more about politics than economics.

On paper, at least, Beijing’s latest deal with the Taliban looks impressive: $10 billion for access to lithium deposits, creating 120,000 direct jobs, plus some infrastructure building and repairs thrown in for good measure. But rather than underpinning hope for economic revival, this contract is likely to join other Chinese ventures in Afghanistan that have been signed with great fanfare—for the republic and extremists alike—only to go out with a whimper rather than a bang. China famously signed a $3 billion deal to develop Afghanistan’s largest copper deposit, not far from Kabul, and then unceremoniously decamped once the shooting started.

Afghanistan is ostensibly an El Dorado, with mineral riches worth at least $1 trillion. But resources, in this case of lithium, are sketchily surveyed: The main geological assays were done when the Soviets invaded in the 1980s and when the Americans did the same two decades later. And resources—potential ore—are not the same as reserves, which are things that can be dug up profitably. Bolivia, for instance, is a big part of South America’s so-called lithium triangle, but Chile and Argentina’s reserves are infinitely more attractive. And then there’s the security issue, a problem that has plagued Afghanistan for the last few decades, or centuries, and which spooked the Chinese away from their big copper project. Even if mining could go on without bloodshed, who would sign the contracts? Few recognize the Taliban government, and a chunk of the cabinet is under international sanctions for terrorism. The legal and regulatory uncertainty almost renders the rest moot.

“The Chinese, at best, will get the contract and sit on it to keep control of the supply and prices of lithium,” said Javed Noorani, an expert on Afghanistan’s mining sector. China has already extended the tentacles of its signature Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) well into neighboring Pakistan, making it the centerpiece of an infrastructure orgy across Central and South Asia. Afghanistan could be next.

“They’ll extend their Belt and Road through Afghanistan, which will seriously jeopardize any regime in Kabul once it is integrated,” Noorani said.

The multibillion-dollar BRI is central to China’s foreign policy. Announced in 2013, it seeks to link Asia with Europe and Africa, overland and overseas. Until the fall of the republic in August 2021, Afghanistan hadn’t been folded into the BRI in any meaningful way. The showpiece for Beijing was Pakistan, where successive governments have gotten a few highways and power plants and become increasingly indebted to China as the country hurtles toward bankruptcy. Beijing has just extended Pakistan a new loan of $700 million to help it through its current economic woes; it comes on top of the $30 billion Islamabad already owes China.

Noorani fears Afghanistan will similarly become indebted to China, which often makes loans conditional on no-bid access, monopoly operation, and guaranteed high prices. As any punter knows, loan conditions can change when repayment looms, especially if late. “It starts at the weak end, with the infrastructure that every country needs. And then it creeps into the arteries of the state, especially the economy, and that’s where the control begins,” Noorani said.

As an essential component of rechargeable batteries and electronic devices, lithium is often referred to as “white gold.” While much of the hard-rock lithium comes from Australia and from brines in Chile and Argentina, China dominates lithium refining. Prices skyrocketed between 2020 and 2022 on projected demand for the finite resource. But lithium prices have plummeted in recent months, with one reason being the Chinese government’s decision to end subsidies for electric vehicles.

If there’s reason to be skeptical of Chinese ambitions toward Afghanistan’s lithium, it’s because we’ve seen this before. In 2007, China paid almost $3 billion for a 30-year lease at the massive copper deposit of Mes Aynak, promising to build mines, smelters, factories, schools, roads, and a railway; protect the remains of an ancient Buddhist city nearby; create jobs for Afghans; and generate revenue for the Afghan state. The Chinese contractor, MCC, allegedly paid a huge kickback to the then-minister of mines, built a fence at the site, took some potshots from insurgents, packed up, and left. Beijing refused to renegotiate the contract. The site remains untouched.

But that was then, perhaps. The Taliban’s victory over the U.S.-backed republic has made Afghanistan vulnerable to Chinese economic exploitation by opening the doors to a desperately impoverished country controlled by a group that has zero ability to run a modern state. For years, Beijing has winked and nodded at the Taliban, giving the leadership the red-carpet treatment even before they retook power, with a tacit understanding that investment would flow afterward. China’s then-foreign minister, Wang Yi, visited Kabul in March 2022 for discussions that the Taliban said included BRI projects. Luckily for them, the Kabul Zoo has no macaques.

For China, Afghanistan is not the mother lode of lithium; there are other, cheaper alternatives elsewhere, even if Chile is busy nationalizing its own lithium industry, potentially narrowing Beijing’s options in the good places. But China’s interest in Afghanistan goes beyond mines and minerals and looks more toward ministers.

China doesn’t need Afghanistan for what’s in the ground—not right now, anyway. Locking down future access to natural resources might be smart in the long term. In the short term, Beijing’s interests are purely political. For longer than Beijing has been supporting the Taliban, the Taliban have been supporting the anti-China East Turkestan Islamic Movement—Uyghurs who oppose the United States and NATO—and so are owed an eternal debt of gratitude. With the Taliban’s takeover, a number of terrorist outfits threatening regional security are safe in Afghanistan, including the ETIM, who dream of driving China out of Xinjiang, where millions of Chinese Muslims are incarcerated in “reeducation” facilities. The Taliban haven’t criticized China’s anti-Uyghur policies, which have been deemed a genocide by the United States, but neither have they complied with Beijing’s demands to deport Uyghurs.

It’s a classic clash: the gerontological atheists who rule China making impossible demands of religious fanatics whose survival depends on putting Islamism first. “There is a trust deficit between China and the Taliban,” said Ma Haiyun, an associate professor of history at Frostburg State University. Some senior Taliban figures don’t like the way the Chinese do business, Ma and other sources said, but publicly they’re happy to have at least one friend sign some contracts and make them look like they’re making some progress. More than 18 months after taking over, the Taliban have no economy, little government, and fewer prospects. Even poisoned chalices are welcome to a thirsty man.

For now, the Taliban are flattered by China’s flirtation, but they’ll be quickly overwhelmed when Beijing gets serious, said Noorani, the mining expert. “The Taliban will not be in a position to negotiate a great contract as they have no knowledge of how complicated contract negotiations can be, especially in the absence of clear legal frameworks and sound institutional arrangements,” he said. “Afghanistan may be a bit player for now: poor, hungry, exhausted by almost half a century of war. But its future is more likely to be defined by China’s ambitions than the retrogressive mullahs currently in charge.”

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itsyourchoicedevotionals · 2 years ago

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Rulership

“…Jesus said to the Jews who had believed Him, “If you abide in My word, you are truly My disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” John 8:31-32ESV

Getting truths today is nearly impossible. People relate ‘truth’ as a relative concept. Meaning? Truth is individually accepted, not a standard to live by. If we want to do or believe wrong, go for it.

Example: Louis and I owned a house with a semi-circle drive— easy street access. Previous owners of thirty plus years had maintained this semi-circle driveway. We’d lived there for twenty years, when new neighbors moved in.

Traveling out of town with Louis’ work for the first month of the neighbor’s residency, our son arrived home from our worksite late Friday night. Flying into the drive, he slammed on brakes. At the last moment, he’d seen the rock bordered flower bed with wooden stakes holding the corners, cutting off the end of our driveway.

Our son came unglued, tore out the flowers, rocks, stakes, throwing them onto the edge of the neighbor’s property. Next morning the neighbor was banging on our door. Having had a property surveyed, he ‘now owned’ four feet on the end of our driveway. There’s a term called ‘eminent domain’ which the court said the driveway was ours. Truth was altered by fifty years of use.

Warning: Lies appearing as truth abound right now— censorship; pandemic; rioting; attacks on history— can anyone say George Orwell’s, 1984? “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter. Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes and clever in their own sight” Isaiah 5:20NIV.

People believe God causes bad things to happen, or allows satan to cause evil. Truth is: study Genesis 1-3. God gave man rulership over the earth. Man handed rulership over to satan. Then reinforces his handoff to satan with the negative words of his mouth. God will often intervene in response to man’s prayers. “Then Jehovah said, “My Spirit must not forever be disgraced in man, wholly evil as he is…” Genesis 6:3TLB

There’s a day satan will be allowed to fully deceive man. “The coming of the lawless one will be in accordance with how Satan works. He will use all sorts of displays of power through signs and wonders that serve the lie, and all the ways that wickedness deceives those who are perishing. They perish because they refused to love the truth and so be saved. For this reason God sends them a powerful delusion so that they will believe the lie and so that all will be condemned who have not believed the truth but have delighted in wickedness.” 2Thessalonians 2:9-12NIV.

Have we arrived at antichrist’s day? NO! “For this lawlessness is already at work secretly, and it will remain secret until the one who is holding it back steps out of the way.” 2Thessalonians 2:7NLT We’re still holding evil back.

God has promised a great awakening. One billion souls will be born again. We’ve arrived at the time for God to squash the liar’s dreams once again. Earth’s rulership will revert to where God’s bride will finally know the truth, be free and in authority. Bondage of lies— gone. Taking back rulership over the seven mountains of influence. She will shine as brightly as her husband, King Jesus. Let’s ramp up our intensity of prayer and praise; exercise authority to see His kingdom come and will be done. Millions we begin acting like our Lord. The backslidden will be returning to Jesus. Shall we start now before we lose anyone else to discouragement and the lies? It’s your choice. You choose.

PRAYER: Lord God You have promised “…I will stand up and show My power and might.” Isaiah 33:10TLB We await Your majesty and power in Jesus Christ’s name I pray.

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gxddessliving · 2 years ago

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Thank you so much for posting about your experience. It really helps to be able to read your journey from before you changed your life until now. It’s veryy motivating.

I’ve known about the law since Feb/March and I’ve consciously manifested quite a few things that have changed my life and many other minor things that haven’t. I find it easy (or just doable) to manifest very small and ‘natural’ things that wouldn’t really seem like a miracle or a manifestation from the perspective of most people. On the other hand, I’m still struggling to manifest ‘big’ things that usually have to do with money, my appearance, relationships and just how I feel about my myself.

I’ve read so many tumblr blogs & reddit posts, I’ve read some Neville books and listened to a few lectures, and now, I’ve been watching Edward Art. I go through stages where I (feel like I) believe that I have my desires but then a few hours or a day passes and I feel like I have to start all over again because I lost the feeling. I think I’ve overconsumed loa at this point. I feel like I’m in a loop of me waking up disappointed and upset, then trying to be positive and to persist throughout the day, and then feeling desperate but trying to trick myself into thinking I’m not just before I fall asleep. And then the cycle continues. This loop has been going on for over 4 months and I’m literally now, as I’m typing, just realising all the time that I lost feeling this way. I wanted to do so many things this summer but didn’t because I wanted to manifest first.

Your blog has made me realise that I need to persist in the new story and not put so much effort in trying to get something. You’ve also mentioned that manifestation is instant, so I want to better understand what I’m doing wrong.

- So my questions are: how do I know that I am persisting? How can I be sure that I’m think from & not of the state? And how can I feel confident enough to persist in that state regardless of what my 3D is showing me?

At the back of my mind, I have this nagging feeling that I’m being completely delusional and ruining my life by being so focused on manifesting. Despite me constantly manifesting (small) things, I still feel there’s something really important I don’t understand.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. Despite my woe-is-me story, I won’t give up. I just wondered what your perspective on this would be xx

Hey anon, firstly- i'm so proud of you for never giving up.

how do you know you're persisting ? when the thoughts/scenes you decide you want to bring into your life seem natural and there's nothing else that feels right or true. example : you know right now that you have ten toes. naturally, if you think about polishing your toes, you know you have to polish ten. that's it. similarly, if you think about your hair colour, let's say someone is manifesting black hair- someone who is truly persisting in having black hair, even if the 3D shows they have brown, they will be thinking "my black hair looks so good today". that is when you know you're truly persisting.

thinking from the state : i have x y z

thinking of the state : when i get x y z-

You can feel confident enough to persist in a state regardless of what the 3D is showing when you acknowledge that everything is created from you. you are the creator- there is no other source. you know that something is going to manifest either way- but you decide what will. if your 3D is showing that you have $10 , no you don't you have 3 million. and you persist in that new creation, that new story you have decided because you know you are the creator and are fully in control.

i don't think there's anything you're not understanding anon.. is there anything here you don't understand ?

1- YOU are the creator of all. There is no "good" or "bad" creation or punishment except for the ones YOU CREATE- all is creation stemming from assumptions in consciousness.

2-You get to decide what is the new story you have and persist in that forever. Persisting is not done in order "to get your manifestation" but rather you assume a new state because even after you "get" your desire, you do know you continue to persist right? it doesn't ever stop. it just may become a bit easier when the 3D moves since your senses can now identify and acknowledge your manifestation. "My only task is to now be that which I have decided to be"- Edward Art

3- Have full confidence that your chosen method of persisting in the new story and manifesting your new mindset + assumptions. "Find the easiest way to persist in having your desire and do it" - The Manifesting House

Nothing can ruin your manifestation unless you say so. Creation is already finished the moment you decided, instantly. Just continue to persist by keeping your thoughts in order.

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funkymbtifiction · 3 years ago

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Now that you are rewatching Downton Abbey, I'd be really interested to hear if you would type any of the characters differently!

I know I once posted about Matthew's mother Isobel being a 2, but the more I watch DA, the more I think a core 1 typing for her could match as well. The strident and aggressive nature of her help could be either 1 or 2. But what I see as possibly core 1 is:

1) her willingness to squander relationships and have people dislike her, all for the sake of being right. 2s have that line to 8, so they can be assertive or openly angry, but I don't know if they'd be as willing to sacrifice relationships as a 1?

2) I also see more of the rigidity and open judgement of 1 now when I watch Isobel, compared to the 'softness' of 2s. From what I've seen of 2s in real life, 2s may be as ready to intervene, fix or meddle in the name of 'rightness' as a 1, but it's covered up under layers of softness ("I'm doing this out of love"/"I care about you") than the "THIS IS THE RIGHT THING TO DO, PERIOD" harshness of 1s. Thoughts?

Yeah, I would say that Isabel is a 1. Violet insults her by saying how wonderful it is that she can see room for "improvement wherever you go," and Isabel takes it as a compliment. She's invasive, judgmental, and preachy and that "should" override personal space and concerns; she's always sure of being right and rushes in to do things too quickly at times (assuming she knows what's wrong with people, and how to fix it). And I recall when she gave the Crawleys some crap for wanting their house back after the war, since she assumed they would keep it a medical hospital forever, since that's the "right" thing to do. If she sees any wrong or injustice, she bulldozes over people to fix it (like badgering Violet to give up the silver cup for her roses, because it's not fair to an old man who works hard to cultivate his blooms every year).

Typing-wise... it takes a long time to get a sense of anyone since there's a million characters and plot lines, but I think Violet might be a 6w5 instead of a 3 or a 1, since it's all about security and loyalty to her granddaughter (she is incredulous that Robert won't break the inheritance and let Mary have all the money). Robert is a duty-driven dependent type (1, 2, 6) but I'm not sure which one yet. I lean 1/2. Edith is tricky, since she acts like a 4w3 (woe is me and my terrible life and I never get anything) but she moves toward people so fast and so desperately, she could be a 2 craving love so much, she's willing to put herself out there to get it (and get crushed over and over). 2s are also the most sensitive type, and she is certainly that.

The biggest surprise is Mary. The more I watch her, the more I wonder if she's a 6w7. She's extremely reactive and unable to control her emotions, even in public at times, which isn't like a 3. She turns to people constantly for help, she's terrified of letting down her father (authority figure), and waffles in self-doubt and self-hatred when she lets people down (a dependent type, not an aggressive type). She changes her mind all the time, and is anxious -- she says to Pamuk that he is operating under the same delusion as her family, in that he thinks she's more "progressive than I am" (not risk-taking).

I think I typed Gwen a 3 as well, and I am doubting that now -- she doesn't believe in her goals above all else, she breaks down in front of other people (I won't get what I want, I shouldn't have thought above my station... did you see their faces??), and is afraid of what her parents might think (that I am reaching too high, above my station, etc), which makes me think she's either a dependent type or a 9, avoiding any kind of conflict. She could be moving to 6 under stress (my dreams are stupid, I shouldn't have had them, because I can't do this!).

Daisy is a 6w7. I don't remember if I even typed her last time. And a strong Fi -- "I think I let myself down." "I don't want to lie to him." etc. Easily naive and influenced but also stubborn about having it her way (INFP?). And I feel like Sybil is an ENFP and not an INFP. She's far too interested in everyone else's life journeys to be an introvert. Beyond that, I think everyone else is typed correctly, although O'Brien might be an 8 instead of a 4/5 -- she has all the negativity, but her first thought always is to proactively anticipate what others might do to harm her and then react to it. And I think she's ENTJ instead of INTJ -- she's too quick to do things she later thinks she might regret ("If I lose my place because of you, I'm going to kill you..." "I shouldn't have let you talk me into this!" -- not to mention causing Cora to fall out of spite, and then regretting causing her miscarriage).

Thomas is also a puzzle. He's an angry, embittered SFP who sometimes does things just to spite people he doesn't like (knowing William adores Daisy and stealing her away from him). He might be the actual 3. He's certainly an assertive type.

I wonder what type Julian Fellowes is -- he writes a lot of selfish and unlikable characters. I know he's ISJ, but would be curious about his Enneagram type, although his so/sp-ness is obvious -- his stories are all about society, stations in life, class barriers, groups, families, etc. I wonder about 9w1. All the conflict in his stories is rather muted, tied in to verbal insults and wits (sometimes passive aggression), and he tells more than he shows, but I could also see 6w5 with the themes of his work, it all comes back to family, over and over.

#question #downton abbey

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

Text

Humans are Weird, “Autograph.”

Wrote this between sporadic bouts of studying because I have the attention span of a flea and the motivation of a blob fish. So This is for those of you asking about what happened after “Movie Star.”

He watched his shuttle hit altitude and then vanish into a pristine blue sky. The roaring of the engines faded away until there was nothing but the distant thunder of jet engines, so much quieter in comparison to the wild screaming of the spacefaring craft headed on her way back to the Harbinger, and a crew that would be captained by his second in command. It hurt him to think that someone else would be captaining his ship, that she'd be in deep space without him.

He wondered if this is what it felt like for a parent to leave their child for the first time.

It all just made his heart ache, and he had the sudden desire to call and make sure she hadn’t spontaneously combusted as soon as he had entered that shuttle leaving her on the docking port moonside.

“Yep, she totally exploded, the entire crew is dead and their ashes will forever float through space.” He turned his head to glower at Conn floating at his back and staring up into the sky with a grin.

“Shut the hell up Conn.”

“Make me.”

“Do I need to remind you that the only thing between you and a snapped spine is a gravitational chastity belt.” he snarled

Conn adjusted the gravity field harness around his narrow-protruding hips, “Speaking of chastity belts-”

He held up a hand, “NO-no I am stopping that line of conversation right there.”

A gentle hand rested on one of his shoulders, and he turned to find Sunny standing over him her head tilted slightly to one side. The expression she had on was almost comical for an alien without human facial structures, “They’ll be fine.” Then she slapped him on the back making him stagger forward, “Now stop frowning, You should be excited.”

He straightened himself out adjusting his jacket.

To his side, Krill sighed and looked up at the sky with an almost longing expression.

“What’s your problem?” Sunny wondered

The Vrul sighed, “The amount of time I spend on a class A death planet is really making me question my sanity.”

“You’re only now beginning to question your sanity?” Adam wondered wryly as he looked around the tarmac. Aside from a couple of baggage carriers, and people in bright orange vests, there was no one here, and no way to tell where they were supposed to go.

“Ha ha, funny ...Where are we going?”

“Guess we sort of just head towards the terminal?” He glanced towards the taxiways between them and the terminal and shook his head. That didn’t seem likely, but also…. There was no one here, “Or not…. I would expect at least someone to be here.”

Sunny crossed her arms in annoyance, “Seems kind of rude they would ask you to come and then just…. Leave you.”

His eyes scanned over the tarmac once more, baggage carts, buggies, distant buses, a fancy black car, but nothing close by. He adjusted his bag over his shoulder, “May as well walk to those people over there and ask them. I don’t want to get in the way of the planes.”

Adam, followed by his extraterrestrial entourage slowly began heading in that direction. A bus rolled by them going the opposite direction, and the black car from earlier turned onto the same road to roll past. Adam kept walking.

“Commander!..... Commander Vir.”

The group of them spun in a tight circle turning to face the car, which turned out to be a limousine, the front window rolled down, and a man in a dark suit leaning out.

Adam looked around like there was someone else by that name standing behind him before pointing at himself, “I ur…. Me.”

The man parked the car and stepped out reaching over to open the car door, “Mr. Ellis apologizes that he couldn’t meet you in person, but he hopes that you will find his personal car satisfactory. Adam blinked like a deer in the headlights, “Er… uh… are you sure you’ve got the right person?” He eyed the car.

“You stupid or something?” Conn wondered floating towards the door and vanishing inside the car, much to the driver’s confusion and surprise. He stared after Conn with wide eyes before turning to look at Adam.

“Believe it or not he's actually pretty tame for his species.” The commander sighed stepping forward and thanking the man awkwardly as he slid inside.

He wasn’t entirely sure if satisfaction was the word he’d use to describe how he felt. Everything, and he meant everything was extravagant and eccentric to the extreme. Crystal glasses, with the appropriate liquor, adjustable colored lights, heated seats in a fabric he couldn’t even name, the absolute definition of leg-room so that even Sunny was comfortable. There was a TV just above the far end turned to the news, a snack bar, a sun roof. He folded his hands in his lap afraid to touch anything for fear of damaging it.

Sunny scooted to sit next to him while Conn and Krill took the other side.

Conn leaned back in his seat, “Not bad.”

“You would say that.” Adam muttered leaning a little closer to Sunny hands pinned between his knees so as not to touch anything.

Sunny had no such qualms sprawling out like she owned the place head resting back onto a fluffy set of cushions just before the window, “Now this, I could get used to.”

Adam disagreed, there was no way that he would ever be able to get used to something like this. In fact, at this moment he was wondering what he was even doing here, hanging out in famous people’s fancy cars with private drivers. He wasn’t special enough for something like that. In fact, he was a soldier, that was it, and arguably not even a very good one. He was just some lucky son of a bitch who had alien friends and a spaceship somehow by coincidence.

He should have been happy, but felt himself wilt internally as he looked around the car at all the fancy things.

Conn watched him from across the car but said nothing.

Unfortunately for him, Sunny caught the tension glancing between him and Conn.

The were rolling out of the LAX tarmac as she spoke, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Adam interjected over Conn, who continued to speak through Adam.

“Boo hoo, oh woe is me, I’m not special enough enough to be here, I am just an average guy who's not even actually good at anything wa ... was.”

Adam snarled at Conn, “get the hell out of my head Conn.”

“You can’t just leave your mind dangling open for all your thoughts to flop out.”

“Thanks for phrasing the analogy that way Conn, I appreciate it.” he leaned back in his seat arms now crossed, “And yeah, I feel a bit out of place. I should be back up with my men doing something useful but here I am being treated all special by people who barely even know me. If they really did they wouldn’t be half as interesting. If they knew how half the stuff I did was pure dumb luck, or how i spend most of the scared out of my mind. How I’m not some kind of badass.” Sunny hummed deep in her chest, “Yes, the story of the man whose dumb lluck led him to being the most important human in the galaxy is totally boring. Yawn, I am falling asleep already.”

“You don’t even yawn.”

“Why do you think I said yawn instead of actually yawning then?”

He growled, “My point is, I just feel out of place.”

“Welcome to being a celebrity Adam. Having dumb luck that put you in a position for people to look up to you. You think these people got here because they are ACTUALLY special. No, they got here because their parents were famous, or because they got into good acting schools when they were kids, or because they knew a guy. All of these people got lucky, aren’t actually special, and there are plenty of people out there more talented than they are, but at this point they are so famous no one cares anymore.”

Adam sat in silence contemplating the thought, “II mean…. When you put it like that.”

“You know it's because I am always right.” Sunny said smugly.

He turned his head towards the window watching the city pass by below them. LA was the largest and one of the most ancient cities on the continent. Of course it spoke nothing of a city like Rome or London, but it was still pretty impressive. The entire place was so shiny and white mixed with delicate greenery all built on the bones of the slums. Not only was LA one of the oldest cities on the continent it was also one of the richest. The further they went the nicer the already nice buildings got reaching towards the sky all shiny and white.

Massive mansions dominated the distance with high gates and private shuttle pads.

The sky above them was dominated by flying cars, private shuttles, and the occasional jet. One mansion they passed by was so big, it seemed as if the front facade went on for almost a mile intertwined with many decorative fountains and trimmed hedges upkeep exclusively by robots.

They turned down another street heading into the city with expensive outlet malls and large flashy brand names that probably cost as much as the warp core used to power his ship. He was both parts intimidated and stunned leaning towards the window to stare at all the strange people that walked the sidewalks.

He turned his head following a very excessively dressed man in a tailored ball gown that took up most of the sidewalk.

Where he grew up in the suburbs, there had been people who dressed according to plenty of other time periods, but the trend had been early 2000s mostly thanks to his mother who performed the modest almost utilitarian style of their clothing plus they had never been rich enough to afford new fashion. Jeans were cheap, easy to make, a staple of the poor masses. Not that they had been poor poor per say, after the war his father worked as a farmhand for Megafarm producing millions of pounds of produce, while his mother had quit teaching to pursue business in talor-making period accurate clothing for those who were into that sort of thing. As a result, his family had been middle middle class.

But this…. This was for the 1%. A place he had never even dreamed of seeing.

He looked down at himself again, shabby jeans, black T-shirt and a hand me down leather jacket from his older brother David, which had seen better days.

He sunk down in his seat.

They took another corner and pulled up to the gate. He craned his neck to look out the window glancing up to the large sign hanging over the gate which read.

HOLLYWOOD STUDIOS.

Named for the ancient strip of land which produced many of the early movies when film was in its infancy. Once famous for the land and the people who lived there, it was now famous for being the highest grossing film studio EVER. A powerhouse of film that practically monopolized the world of action. While a lot of people demonized the studio for being a monopoly on film, Adam could see why.

They made some good shit.

The gate buzzed open and they were driven inside. He HAD to get a better look rolling open the skylight and standing to look out the top of the car. Hundreds of people dressed in costumes, carrying props, cameras, equipment. Mouth open like an idiot he stared through open warehouse doors and onto virtual projected sets on which actors stood in full costume, or in motion capture suits. Camera men walked around in massive exoskeletons controlling up to ten cameras at once.

A dog trotted past with a handler, a dog that Vir recognized from plenty of movies in which she had starred tail wagging tongue lolling. He dropped back inside the car with wide eyes staring at Sunny who was also looking out the window with wide eyes.

The car came to a stop towards the end of the strip, but then picked up again rolling into one of the giant warehouses and pulling to a stop. The engine cut, and the doors opened. He stepped out thanking the Driver.

“Commander Vir! Just who I wanted to see!” He turned just in time to catch Director Ellis, or more like be blinded by him, as he skipped up wearing his strange sequin suit and cat-eye glasses. Instead of going for the handshake the man grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, “It’s so exciting to finally have you here. You will be so excited to see what we have done. Just like you said, being as accurate as possible’ it's been a real challenge, but I assure you, you will be so proud. We have done so much research, and I have talked to experts everywhere”

A mousy little woman scuttled after him holding two cups of coffee looking frazzled and exhausted as she tried to keep up with her boss.

Members of the crew looked up from where they were standing and a few exclamations of awe went up, and he couldn’t blame them, aliens were pretty cool. Despite Conn being a total asshole, he cut an impressive figure of billowing white ribbon and slow ethereal movement.

The man pulled back eyes widening at Conn, “You will be an absolute bitch to animate,”

“Match his personality.” Sunny quipped stepping out of the car.

She was greeted excessively by the director as well as Krill.

A sizable crowd had gathered, and Adam stepped back intending to allow his non-human friends the attention they deserved.

That’s not exactly what ended up happening. Stepping out of the circle he heard a shriek that made him nearly leap out of his skin. He turned to find a young woman with large glasses wearing a grey suit and pencil skirt. There was a pile of papers and a clipboard on the ground at her feet like she had dropped them.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at him mouth open.

“Er…… are you ok?” He ventured leaning down to pick up her papers.

When he stood back up she was still frozen her eyes wide. He offered her papers back.

That broke her from her frozen state but beginning with her hands which started to shake frantically in front of her. The shaking grew wider and wider, her expression grew more excited and she began to leap up and down squealing, “No way, no way…. No way no way no way.” That devolved until she was simply squealing with excitement.

Adam stepped back in shock and confusion, “It’s really you I can't believe it!”

She rushed forward arms out then paused, “Can I?” Her expression was so innocent and excited, her eyes so wide that he didn’t know how to respond.

“Er ...sure.”

She nearly broke his back wrapping her arms around him and squealing in delight again knocking her glasses askew. He grunted as the breath was crushed from his lungs. Despite being tiny she was surprisingly strong, and he felt his feet lightening upon the ground hands held out to the side still clutching her clipboard.

She stepped back after a moment with a big smile, her glasses canted at an awkward angle, “Can i get a picture with you.” She begged

He glanced over his shoulder still not convinced that she hadn’t mistaken him for someone, “Um, Are you sure. I Maybe you have the wrong person.”

She shook her head vigorously giggling, “No, I’d know you anywhere. Commander Vir, the first man to meet sentient life, participated in the Drev war, commanding the first fleet of interstellar ships. You are my HERO.” She looked at him with eyes so wide, so innocent and starstruck that he hardly knew what to say.

He wondered if maybe he was dreaming.

“Picture?” She pleaded

“Um ... uh yeah, sure I guess.” She squealed again this time causing him to drop her clipboard as she grabbed him by the arm pulled him in and whipped out her phone snapping at least ten pictures of them before letting him go. “Mr. Vir it is such an honor.” She was saying, “I’ve read everything about you, all the declassified transmissions. Like that time you saved an alien race from extinction, or that time you ran a marathon on a A-1 death planet, or or like the three times you've saved entire planets.”

“Oh I…. really?”

She nodded, “Yes, Mr. Vir.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “You can just call me Adam.”

He was nearly defined in the next moment as she shrieked again and hugged him.

“What’s your name?”

She put her hands over her mouth eyes wide, “S-samantha, but- but my friends call me Sammy…..You can call me Sammy.” He blinked in confused surprise and a bit of self consciousness feeling himself go a bit red.

She may have been star struck, but he was sort of struck by her being star struck. This had to be some sort of dream, even more confusing when he realized the circle of people he assumed had been there for his alien companions had ll circled themselves around him.

Men and women, stage crew, and actors in motion capture suits gathered around wide eyed and smiling.

He spun in a slight circle staring around at all the faces.

A man stepped from the crowd, a young guy in a motion capture suit. He held out a hand, “Commander, Ezra Hemming. I Well I guess I’m the stunt double for…. For your stunt double? Keith Jenning.”

“So? You’ll be doing all the legwork?”

The young man blushed.” I guess you could say that.”

Did he seriously seem nervous? It seemed so strange, and all these people were looking at him, approaching him, wanting to talk to him. It was insane, he shook so many hands learned so many names in such a short amount of time. At some point there was a hydraulic hiss, and the crowd around him parted.

A woman walked towards them elevated on a set of robotic stilt legs, wearing a motion capture suit, and an exoskeleton that gave her an extra set of arms. Vir felt his mouth drop open. Rita Ortiz… the penultimate action hero casting choice, and someone he had a boyish crush on for…. Well a couple of years now.

In her exo suit, she was as tall as sunny, which he assumed was the point, “Commander.” She said politely.

“Ms. Ortiz…. Er…. Can I….. get your autograph.” He stammered out feeling stupid almost immediatly, but to his surprse she broke into a wide smile.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. Make it a deal and trade mine for yours.”

He choked with a rather sporadic laugh not believing her in the slightest.

Some of the crowd finally noticed his alien friends and Ms. Ortiz seemed especially interested in sunny, for obvious reasons. The two stepped up to each other examining the other with a critical eye.

Sunny seemed pleased.

Samantha lurked next to him, and he had a feeling she was trying to be discreet, but it wasn’t working. He was still wigging out about this hardly able to believe it. At some point, someone grabbed him and dragged him towards the director's chair where Ellis was was talking to some of the writers.

He turned in his chair, “Adam…. May I call you Adam, Good, the writers and I were just going over the script, and well we have run into a few snags. You gave us a pretty detailed explanation on some of the things that happened, but this part right here, the part where you lose your leg….. It's very vague.”

Adam shuffled his feet awkwardly glancing over to where Sunny was showing the actress how to more properly move like a Drev. A few of the VFX people were there as well examining her armor, its color and debating how best to reproduce that in post.

“Well I….. It was taken off during the Drev war.”

“I mean, yeah we got that, and not to push but…. Unless you want us to cut that part out.”

He glanced again towards Sunny.

“I…. its hard to talk about.”

A hand on his shoulder, “I understand, I quite understand….”

He mulled it over for a minute while the writers were talking heart hammering in his chest. He had never told Sunny…. Never really explained about his post traumatic stress related to that incident. Never really mentioned how long it took him to trust her, and he never would.

He'd never fess up to the nightmares.

Because he didn’t want them to matter anymore.

“I can’t explain it to you but…. I can show you.” The group of them turned almost surprised, and he was honestly surprised at himself too. What he was about to do…. It was a bigger deal than any of them might assume.

“Sunny!” he turned, and the bright blue alien trotted over humming happily the way that Drev did. She seemed so happy, nothing like the creature in his dreams, his friend, his best friend.

“Yes?”

“I…. Well I need to show them how I lost my leg, hard to explain, so I thought we might show them.”

He watched Sunny carefully, and was probably the only one who noticed the slight wilt in her shoulders. The guilt flashing in her gold eyes…. Of course the thing in his dreams would never have felt that way, “Oh ... are you sure.”

He cleared his throat waving it off, “Of course, here.” he stepped forward motioning around the room, “I remember the rocks being sort of like this. There was a shallow sort of bowl like a pocket and some rocks here. There were actually a Tesraki and a rundi soldier right there, and I was over here.”

The crew, following his words began moving around the greenscreen landscape creating the sort of space that he was talking about.

“Now I had one of those older models M-23s pieces of shit, and a knife.” He reached out for the prop weapon offered to him, “And the drev had a spear.” He glanced towards Sunny, who was looking very, very uncomfortable, but someone handed her the prop spear. She looked down at it and swivel it in her hand like the thing was an extension of her body.

She didn’t seem particularly satisfied but didn’t say anything. He moved up onto the fake terrain, and she did the same looking over at him with concern. It was almost as if she knew that even though he had never bothered to tell her.

He came up one side of the set while she came up the other; she had the spear held out ready, and he had the gun up. Of course, he dropped it on it’s sling when it supposedly overheated,

He remembered this like it had been yesterday, how the rock had felt under his feet, the panic he had felt for the two defenseless soldiers she was stalking. He remembered panicking when the gun malfunctioned, he remembered how he wasn’t thinking straight. He remembered making the decision that cost him his leg.

He didn’t bother trying to go easy on her, catching her around the neck and raising his hand with the collapsable knife.

The world began to spin, and before his eyes he saw the ash and fire.

He heard the gunfire felt his body moving as it once had. Saw the dark shadow, heard the screaming and felt the hot air over his body. He remembered the knife biting into her skin. He remembered being thrown to the ground.

Set lights flashed around him as he slammed into the floor, padded but still painful as he rolled to the side. Sunny’s foot came down right next to his head as he rolled to the side cutting at her heels.

The creature reached down to grab him, but he rolled to his feet cutting at the hand.

He remembered the sweat trickling down his body from the great heat of the volcanoes. He remembered how the ash had coated the stone making things strangely slippery. He remembered the poorly equipped gear and the oversized shoes.

He remembered slipping backwards landing hard on his back as the spear cut downwards.

He remembered bone cracking and flesh splitting in half.

He braced for pain but none came. The fire died, the ash vanished, and he found himself on the ground hands over his face, a spear tip lightly grazing the outer carapace of his prosthetic leg. Sunny stood over him spear held in one of her lower arms. Though her posture was ready for a fight, her eyes….. So much more expressive than that of the creature he remembered from his vision, looked at him in worry and something that looked like pain.

He lay on the ground looking up at her, at her mercy, just like he had been on that day.

And he knew she wouldn’t hurt him.

She withdrew the spear and stepped back offering one hand to him.

He didn’t hesitate to take it, and she hauled him to his feet.

Together, they turned to look at the spectators who were looking on in awe,and shock.

Quietly sunny began, “Our orders were to remove their limbs…. In our culture Disability IS death. We thought that simply removing their limbs would stop them…. We were wrong.”

Adam tried to keep his voice light, “I don't remember much, but I crawled about ….50 feet down that hill before someone managed to find me and stabilize me. The leg was completely gone, no hope of reattaching something that’s just gone.”

“That was….. Intense.” Ellis finally cut in, “We should have had some cameras rolling dammit. Can we recreate that!” He began ordering his men around, and for a moment, the two of them were forgotten in the crowd. He stood there quietly noticing on the instant as two pairs of arms wrapped themselves around him. Enveloping him in an armored hug that almost completely encased him…. Safe.

A voice at his ear.

“Don’t EVER make me do that again.”

He placed a hand over hers, “Never, I promise.”

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thebibliomancer · 4 years ago

Text

Song of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 26

Song of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because Naia and Kylan are trapped on a mushroom with a snarling Skeksis Satirist. That’s a heck of a place to wait a whole weekend before continuing.

Last times on book: Kylan, Naia, and Tavra have been on a quest to find a bell-bird bone firca that they can use to warn all Gelfling about the Skeksis. There’s been complications and setbacks. Tavra is a spider now, due to circumstances. They have a fourth party member, a Grottan alchemist named Amri. And the Skeksis Satirist skekLi and an army of millions of spiders have taken over the Caves of Grot and the Grottan Sanctuary where the extinct bell-birds used to live. But the upside is that Kylan has trapped skekLi with him and Naia on top of a mushroom. Wait, that’s the upside?

Chapter 26

An epic mushroom top showdown, with musical finish

Kylan and Naia parted, flanking skekLi instinctively. Armed with the staff, the Skeksis’s reach was incredible. With the long weapon, he might even be able to sweep them both off the platform in a single move, should they be in the same place.

Naia says the game plan should be to get the staff away from skekLi but given that their equipment is Gurjin’s Sweet Metal Dagger and the clothes on their backs… outlook bad. Kylan instead wonders whether they should try escaping.

skekLi guesses Kylan’s thought and laughs that a Drenchen’s wings aren’t for flying (they’re more fins for swimming better) so Naia’d be lucky to save herself, let alone Kylan.

skekLi’s beak broke into a grin.

“Though we could then say you had fallen for each other! Ha!”

Oh snap! That’s the wit that earned him the sobriquet Satirist!

Just puns and dunking on people.

I assume he dunked on the wrong person and that’s why he’s in a cave.

The sweet pun dunk has skekLi turn his attention to Kylan briefly and Naia uses the opportunity to close in and… honest to god, she does a SHORYUKEN

Naia surfaced right inside the space made by his outstretched arms, then jumped, holding her fist up and clocking skekLi solidly in the bottom of his bill. His beak made a loud CLACK and he stumbled backward.

Amazing. Incredible. Another thing I’d like to see in puppet.

Apparently, I was right when I said that skekLi is the scrawny nerd Skeksis because both Naia and Kylan realize that he’s not a fighter. He’s bigger and stronger and has more reach but he’s uncoordinated in a fight.

Kylan manages to get inside his guard too and bites his wrist. Alas, he doesn’t get skekLi to drop his staff and the Skeksis also flings him almost off the mushroom. But nice try, Kylan.

While dangling, Kylan spares a glance down.

“I don’t mean to add to our troubles,” he said, “but the spiders are coming.”

You have a gift for understatement, Kylan.

Yeah. The MILLIONS OF SPIDERS are crossing the lake at the base of the petrified giant mushroom so they’ll be climbing up soon. And that will spell very bad times. Even worse times than being trapped on a mushroom with this nerd forever.

Kylan tries to get Naia to run because friends but she insists on not leaving him. Because friends. And because he’s their bard and the quest reward is an instrument and they’ll need him to play it.

skekLi finds this hilarious. Because what a cute quest. Adorable.

“Oh yes. The bone! The bell-bird bone from the Book of Raunip. Krychk told me of it, that you had a bone to pick. Ha! I’m sad to say, you won’t find it here. Poor, stupid Gelfling. All the bodies have been borne away, chewed up by ruffnaw and crawlies and time.”

I mean, he has a POINT. Its been about a thousand trine. On the other hand, the nests and feathers are still here, in flagrant disregard of good sense. So I don’t know what to believe.

But I like that skekLi saw the punpportunity and went for it. I’m still not sure how good he is at satire but he has a wit.

skekLi shifts into Chamberlain-energy PEACE PLEASE mode. He really is like a scrawnier quippier Chamberlain that even skekSil would bully.

He tells Naia if she surrenders and comes to the castle, he might see his way to sparing the other Gelfling.

“We only need a little essence. A little, only a little. From you and your other half. In exchange, we would feed you. Care for you, as we have always cared for Gelfling. We need only a little to save our Emperor.”

Naia presumes that what the Emperor wants is to steal life from his Mystic counterpart and she won’t truck with that, if she knew what a truck was. But skekLi insists no, if the Emperor is dying then his counterpart is dying. And only special Gelfling essence can save them.

Kylan has serious DOUBT about this, especially how this all sounds too good to be true, and warns Naia that this Satirist is clearly lying. But on he rolls.

“That is what you want to do, isn’t it? Drenchen? Save the others? Save the Crystal? Save Gelfing - save Thra? To do so, help us save Skeksis. Look! We are not mad with Gelfling. Even when it bites us. We only want Drenchen twins, for reunion. Only a little. You would spare only a little, if it might save everyone… wouldn’t you?”

Kylan again objects that this is all pretty fishy, that if the Skeksis just needed a little, they only needed to ask. skekLi responds indignantly yeah like that would go over well. Just dress up nice, stroll into the village, ask to borrow a cup of life goo. Suuure.

Although, the more pressing thing is 1) they were draining Gelfling before they knew about Gurjin and Naia. That’s what set off this whole thing. Rian discovered that his girlfriend had been drained. 2) They don’t know that special twin essence would work. Aughra said it won’t. 3) This good of the many thing is pretty dubious when at this point I’m sure the Skeksis have killed more Gelfling than there are Skeksis and Mystics combined.

That obliquely reminds me that I’m glad that the big prophecy didn’t get play in the Age of Resistance series. During Chamberlain’s PEACE PLEASE moment, he claims that the Skeksis just wiped out the Gelfling because they were scared of the prophecy that Gelfling would overthrow them. Classic fiction trope genocide backfire. You try to thwart a prophecy by doing a lot of murder and it blows up in your face.

But the series has it so that the Skeksis were exploiting the Gelfling long before they started drinking them, were drinking them before they started trying to wipe them out, and had messed up the environment with their exploitation of the Crystal. So, yeah. I don’t buy what you’re selling, skekLi! Not even at a limited time offer reduced price!

“But listen, Gelfling. Listen. Gelfling people entrusted the castle and the Crystal to the Skeksis. We keep it. We protect it. Dust the mantel, clean halls, and so on. All for free, with never thanks. So, least Gelfling could do is help the Skeksis when they can. What are two lives to all lives on Thra?”

Wow, he is really good at playing up sob story here. ‘Oh woe is us we have to live in a giant castle.’ When we’ve seen and we know that the Castle is/was stocked full of staff and guards and that the Skeksis go around to do a census and tithes.

But it doesn’t matter, skekLi was just saying sweet sounding words to fill space because SPIDERS ARE HERE

Dammit, you let him monologue and talking wasn’t a free action and now we’re lousy with spiders!

The Skeksis chuckled to himself, gnashing his teeth.

“Gelfling waited too long. Time to make a deal is over. Now the deal is only that both Gelfling come quietly, or Spriton dies.”

But but but but, killing time is also what Amri needed to do!

He calls over from one of the bell-bird nests, waving a tiny bone. Even just waving it blows some air through it, releasing an eerie tone that makes the spiders and the skekLi sit up and take notice.

“Play it!” Kylan shouted.

“Play it? I’m no musician!”

“Just blow in it!”

“Oh!”

Hah!

Kylan: ‘It's a wind instrument, not rocket science, Amri!’

Amri: ‘What’s a rocket?’

Except it's not not as complicated as Kylan hopes.

A long soft note rang through the corrie. It was faint, and only one note, but it brought a chill to Kylan’s spine. The spiders that were closing in on the nest where Amri perched backed away, too close to the sound of breath in the bell-bird’s bone. Even the spiders on the cap trembled, whispering among themselves in hesitation and fear.

But the note did not grow louder, instead fading out as Amri lost breath. Kylan fidgeted in frustration, licking his lips. He knew if he had the bone, he could raise its song to fill the entire corrie. Amri was blowing too hard, or too soft - either way, it wasn’t enough.

“It’s too difficult! I don’t know how!” Amri called. “I’m sorry!”

And that’s why you have a dedicated bard.

I like Kylan getting frustrated, seemingly not because they’re all about to be spidered, but because Someone Is Musicing Wrong.

He asks Naia to go get the bone and bring it to him but she hesitates to leave him alone. skekLi mocks them, because its what he do, and pokes Kylan with the staff in a patronizing way.

Which just unleashes the primal Angry Kylan within. He grabs the end of the staff and holds it so skekLi can’t pull it back (because he is the scrawny nerd of his group.

“I’m not a hostage,” [Kylan] growled. “And I”m not helpless. And I’m not weak! Naia, go get the bone from Amri and bring it to me. Then I will take care of the spiders and this Skeksis liar!”

Kylan has hit his ‘aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you want to go ape shit?’ point!

This is amazing, by the way! Kylan isn’t heavy enough to prevent skekLi from actually picking up the staff so he’s just clinging to it while skekLi waves it around trying to dislodge him.

Another thing I would very much like to see in puppets!

Naia is still torn because she wants to protect her best friend Kylan and so splits the difference while still trusting him not to die if she’s not there for five seconds. She doesn’t fly over to Amri. She hasn’t flown at all and now is no time to stress test the wings. But she tells Amri to throw the bone to her.

Kylan feels like his heart is exploding with pride because Naia trusts him but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Uhhhhhhhh

You want to THROW the plot critical item across a vast gulf? And its a tiny, hollow bone so it probably doesn’t throw all that well. Not aerodynamic, not very able to fight wind resistance. Is this a good idea? Amri isn’t sure its a good idea but he does it anyway!

skekLi slams his staff into the mushroom ground, breaking it in an attempt to dislodge Kylan. Which he does because Kylan is smart enough not to hang on for that.

When the staff crystal breaks, the ringing distracts the spiders and the skekLi and the Skeksis can’t do much more than curse as Naia jumps off the mushroom to catch the bone.

Which is falling slowly because it has a web parachute on it?? Good job, Tavra! I don’t know when you learned to do that! Is it instinctual? Are you just that skilled??

Kylan now gets to taunt that Naia totally caught the bone and will be up to give it to him any time now. And skekLi basically goes NUH UH.

C’mon, man! Where’s the wit I briefly knew you for?

Kylan snatched one of the staff’s splinters, stepped, and threw it like a miniature spear. It made its mark, striking skekLi in the shoulder, sticking out like a pin. The Skeksis squawked and yanked it out, but Kylan threw another, and another, sticking him full of darts from his own staff.

Oh my god this is amazing. This is ridiculous and amazing!

“GRAGGGHHH!” roared skekLi. “Stop it! Stop it, Gelfling!”

“Or what?”

“Or - or - wait! Stop it, and! AND! Stop it and we’ll let you go! Eh?”

“I don’t think you’re in a place to negotiate!”

Oh my god it just got better! This is a truly ridiculous scene!

Naia DID catch the bone and she IS coming to Kylan but she’s being obviously chased by ohgodsomany spiders.

skekLi claims he’ll do something kind and orders the spiders away. Before leaning over the edge and just yanking Naia back up to this mushroom cap.

He’s not good at fighting but he’s great at plucking Gelfling from places, I guess.

skekLi holds Naia up by the back of the neck and tries shaking the bone off of her but she refuses to let go. She throws it to Kylan and the Skeksis threatens to kill her if Kylan plays the bone.

Naia tells him to do it anyway because she’s figured she’s pretty safe from casual Skeksis violence since they need her for twin goo although skekLi is angry enough to go ‘yeah but what if no?’

We might be in movie territory where we have a standoff between a Gelfling, a plot item, and a Skeksis with a hostage except there’s a third party.

Tavra-spider was hiding in Naia’s tunic and runs out along skekLi’s arm and… GOD. She bites him ON the eye. Geez, Tavra! You don’t mess around!

So now we have Tavra-spider running around on skekLi’s head and him freaking out slapping his own head with his non-Naia-grabbing hand and this is all very silly. Also, very serious but very very silly.

And in this silly spectacle, Naia reminds Kylan to play the bone.

The note was a thousand times stronger than when Amri had tried. It filled the corrie like wind, or water, or fire. Its reverberations circling against the walls from the pool at the bottom and all the way up to the sky. As it echoes, it reinforced itself, growing louder and louder until the mountains themselves began to sing with its song.

And the bone flute works! The MILLIONS OF ANGRY SPIDERS just start falling off the walls in droves, Tavra-spider, confined to a spider body, falls off skekLi and does a dead spider impression with her spider legs folded under her. Buuuut it doesn’t affect skekLi as much and covering his earhole with one hand, he makes ready to smash Naia against the mushroom with the other.

I guess that makes sense! It sucks for the Kylan Crew but it makes sense! The Skeksis are aliens to Thra and logically (?? with magic bird bone flute crystal music) aren’t as affected by the song of Thra.

But maybe it just needs the right accompaniment.

The song of the bone-flute faded, but skekLi’s death thrust halted midair. A second note, then a third, vibrated through the corrie. The tones were deep. Primal. Voices, Kylan realized. As the tone-tone chant sank into the walls of the cliffs, Kylan picked up the bone-flute from where he’d dropped it. He played the instrument and found the single note joined the other two with no discordance. It was the song of Thra, after all - the song that would move mountains.

skekLi dropped Naia. She fell with a gentle thump, then climbed to her feet and stumbled away. The Skeksis was frozen where he stood, eyes wide and pupils tiny, panting so heavily that drool dripped from his open mouth.

Naia doesn’t dwell on being a second away from death just recently and notices the New Challengers.

Over on the edge of the corrie wall, urVa and urLii have reentered the plot and and filled the corrie with their song.

I love the Mystic song. I love it more when it saves Naia.

One held a tall bow, arrow nocked, though the point was lowered. There was no need to use the weapon while skekLi was held immobile by the bone-shaking song. He twitched and jerked against the power of his other half. He could do no more harm to the Gelfing, at least for now.

Maybe a Mystic could keep a Skeksis in one place…

Aughra’s words echoed in Kylan’s memory.

This is really cool but its raising my expectations for the Mystics! I know they have other stuff they could be doing but maybe they should go around singing the Skeksis away from causing trouble!

Plus? Now I’m imagining an urRu barbershop quartet!

#dark crystal #the dark crystal #Song of the Dark Crystal #liveblog #Kylan #Naia #Amri #Tavra #skekLi #the Satirist #many spiders; mostly peeved #some special guests

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originofjaehyun · 4 years ago

Text

Prelude: After Story | Part 1 | Punch

Prelude: After Story Masterlist

Word count: 2,929

Warnings: None

Part 1 | Punch

“‘Cause I’m a clean fighter.”

Read Interlude: No More Drama

Tag list: @justineasian @elauniesdream

“Make sure you tell him how you felt.”

The remark only received a giggle from the other party. “I’m not promising anything, Yuta. It will take time.”

Yuta took a final glance. There’s a hint of despair in the way he looked at her. “You packed everything?”

She nods. “I think so. Let me know if I left something. Well, that if you don’t mind. Else, you can throw them away.”

“Alright, I’ll let you know.” He smirked. There’s a pregnant pause before he continues. “I’ll see you when I see you, [Y/N]. Until then, please be well.”

Yuta could see she welled up, holding up her tears. He wished he could hug her and tell her that it will be fine, but that only contradicted the brave front he showed to her.

She finally waves her final goodbye, closing the door. It is a signal for Yuta to finally embrace his sadness. Legs gave in, he immediately crouched down, sighing.

“Damn, who would’ve thought I could fall for someone this much?” Brushing the hair that covers his forehead, he asked himself, with no one to answer.

Yuta walked to his bathroom, thinking that he would cool his head by taking a brisk shower. He took off his shirt, pausing in front of the sink before he entered the shower booth. He stared at his own reflection, blankly. No thoughts, head is empty. He just needs his time to process and to cope with his own heartbreak.

There are few objects that don't belong to him, and by then he noticed that she forgot to visit the bathroom when she cleared her stuff, leaving her toothbrush behind. He curled one side of his lips up, sighing regretfully before throwing the toothbrush to the trash bin nearby.

This is so I can forget about her faster.

Yuta taught to himself, before spotting another foreign item.

A pair of rose gold stud earrings. Yuta knows his pieces of jewelry because he never took off his. The simple design of the earrings is also a bit too plain for his liking, and the owner of them is no other than the person who just left this place.

He grabs it, about to throw them away. But hesitates, gripping the earrings inside his palm.

Yuta looks at the earring once more.

Maybe, just maybe, this is the only part of you that I could keep?

–

Days pass per normal for Yuta. Except that the people around him notice that he’s anything but it.

“You alright, bro?” Doyoung tapped his shoulder, waking Yuta from his daze.

“What do you mean?” Yuta leans to the wall, inhaling his IQOS.

“I don’t know man, you’re off these days.” Doyoung took a sip of his grapefruit drink. “It seems like you have something on your mind. Have you talked to [Y/N] about it?”

Ah, so she hasn’t told him.

Yuta thought to himself, not responding to Doyoung as he drew out a translucent smoke.

“She might not be the best at giving advice, cause even she had a hard time figuring out herself. But I promise she’s a good listener, I’m sure she'll be able to give you some sort of comfort.”

Yuta just nodded to his statement.

He nodded because he himself knew how comfortable it was to be around her.

–

Yuta holds grudges. It was hard for him to admit it at first, but eventually, he accepts the annoying part of his personality. Fast forward five months after she left, Yuta still refused to go out. This clearly weirded everyone out since Yuta is the social butterfly. For him to reject their offer to visit the bar after office makes the lines on their foreheads more apparent than ever.

Yuta just needs some time, alone. He doesn’t know for how long, but what he knows is that he’s just not in the mood to put on a fake happy smile when his own heart is like a shipwreck.

So he spent another night in at his apartment, opening a bottle of rye whiskey. Truthfully, Yuta prefers sweeter booze –something that is more fruity like his usual Cassis Orange. However these days, those cocktails couldn’t shred his woe. He needs something stronger. He needs to be able to feel the burning sensation on his chest, replacing the pain of his heartache.

He went off to flump into the leather couch, putting down the glass of whiskey. He grabs the remote, browsing through the Netflix catalog. He stops, at one move named Kimi no Na wa.

He probably already watched this for million times. He loves this movie. Not only because of the well-executed animation and storyline, but it also reminds him of home.

And it painfully reminds him of her too. How she loved anime, and how her eyes glimmered every time Yuta told her a fun fact about Japanese culture.

“Did you know there’s a trivia behind her name?”

“Who? Mitsuha?”

Yuta nods, “Her name means three leaves. Funnily enough, it started from her grandmother, Hitoha which means one leaf. And you guessed it, her mother’s name, Futaba, means two leaves and her little sister, Yotsuha, is four leaves.”

“Whoa!” She shrieked excitedly. “That’s cute!”

Yuta laughed at the sight of her getting excited over something simple like this. It’s nothing much for a Japanese man like him, but for her it’s something new and Yuta finds it very adorable.

If she was still here, he would cross his arm over her shoulder. Cuddling her.

But right now, all he could do is to rest his arm on the backrest of his couch. The only warmth that he could feel is from the whiskey.

Unable to focus on the movie, so he diverted his attention to see his phone.

Oh, how he regrets it.

He saw her social. She was with a group of people that Yuta knew from that party. But his finger reactively clicked on one of the tagged name’s profiles.

Just to see him posted a photo of her. It was a candid photo, the person captured in the picture seemingly asked the photographer to stop. Her hands were blurred because she attempted to cover her mouth.

But she wasn’t quick enough to stop the photographer from capturing her smile. A smile so bright Yuta knew he wasn’t able to create. A smile that Yuta definitely misses.

The agony he felt amplified once he read the capture below the photo.

“I was yours, before I knew; and you have always been mine too.”

Yuta rolled his tongue over his front teeth. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way, not when he is the one who let her go. But he is pissed, throwing his phone away.

He moves his palms to cover his eyes, resting his head. He lets out another sigh, but no matter how much he exhaled, no matter how much alcohol he drank, the rain cloud seems to follow him around.

“Fuck this shit.” He hummed to himself.

He took his phone again, this time opening a different app. It took him a bit longer this time, but at least whatever he was doing, managed to put a smile on Yuta’s face.

He then proceeds to dial a number.

“Hello, Doy? I’ll take a week off. I’m flying to Osaka tomorrow.”

–

“How could you come back home without noticing us?”

Yuta puts down his bag, worn out from the flight, “I can’t even visit my own home now, Nee-san?”

“What I meant was,” His sister crossed his arm. “Last time you visited Osaka, you’d stay at the hotel because you wouldn’t stay long. Mostly due to your business trip. What makes you suddenly miss home?”

“I just feel like taking some days off, Nee-san.” He replied without looking at this sister, busy unpacking his stuff. “Also, Imouto has been texting me, telling me to bring her some signed goods from TVXQ.”

“Well if you said so,” Her sister knows how stubborn Yuta is, so she decides that she won’t press him further. “Come down when you’re ready. If only you told us you were coming earlier, mom would’ve cooked us Nabe. But we don’t have the ingredients, so you have to settle with curry tonight.”

Yuta finally looked back to smile at his sister, “Curry sounds great, Nee-san.”

–

It’s great to be home, Yuta thought to himself.

The familiar road. People talking in his mother language. Food that is catered to fit his taste buds. He loves Korea, and everything it has to offer, but nothing could replace home.

“My, Yuta is that you?!” An elderly woman called for him, snapping him from his day daze.

“Oh, Baa-chan!” Yuta subconsciously lets out his signature radiant smile. “How are you? I hope your back is fine now.”

“Oh, you’re as sweet as I could remember, Yuta!” She giggled. “You never visit your home, this Baa-chan misses you a lot, you know? I don’t know how to use… what do they call those these days? Line?”

Yuta laughed. “Yes, Line, Baa-chan.”

“Right, I can’t contact you! You should come home more often. I could write you a letter but I don’t know your address in Korea.”

“I miss you too, Baa-chan. Sorry, I promise to visit again.”

Baa-chan sells taiyaki in his neighborhood. Yuta is her regular customer, and she has witnessed how much Yuta grew from a small boy who aspires to be an Ultraman to a successful businessman he is right now. Yuta settled on the bench in front of Baa-chan’s store, filling her with the missing information pieces where Yuta finally left home for his career.

“Now take this,” She offered him a bag of taiyakis.

“Oh, no Baa-chan. Let me pay,” He rustles his pant pocket, trying to find his wallet.

“My dear Yuta!” She pushes the paper bag to him, “This is a gift from me, as a thank you for visiting this old lady. Next time, bring your friend here so they can pay instead. Baa-chan wants to see your friends, I want to make sure they are good people.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. Baa-chan is always kind, and it touches his heart. Yuta treats her like she’s her own grandmother. “I’ll note that, Baa-chan.”

He waves goodbye to her and marches his way to a nearby park. The park used to be so big for the small Yuta. He used to think it would take forever to catch a ball that flies after his friend kicked it too high. But now that he’s a full-grown man, he even wonders how the hell he was able to play soccer with his friend in this field.

He sits down at the bench, taking a bite of the fresh taiyaki. Baa-chan’s taiyaki is the best. It might be a biased opinion, but every bite is like a memory lane for Yuta. The irreplaceable taste of childhood.

The dusk is near, and there is no child laughter at these hours since all of them have their curfews. With nothing to keep him entertained, he unlocked his phone, casually browsing through his social before pausing his munching at one post.

“Can’t believe this man asked me to spend the rest of my life with him while I’m about to throw the trash away. I hope your future daughter will experience a much more romantic proposal, you weirdo.”

Involuntarily the red bean paste from his bread squirted out, due to the fact Yuta unconsciously squeezed them. Was it out of anger? Out of disappointment? Or out of regret?

His blood is boiling, and with nobody around, nothing stops him. Yuta is usually calm, but right now he just wants to transfer the excessive anger somewhere. Heck, the tree next to him can be his punching bag.

My mom always told me to finish my meal so you’re not leaving until you eat everything.

But right now, Yuta is unable to take another bite. He even forced whatever he had left on his mouth down to his throat.

Why did I let you go?

He scoffed, mocking his own thought, “Damn, what a pathetic person you are, Yuta.”

Your first impression on Yuta is probably how strong his aura is. His gaze is sharp, complemented with a well-chiseled jawline. So you would never think that the same person has a sensitive soul. Ever since his trip to Japan, the Nakamato residence in Seoul is always decorated with fresh flowers, handpicked by Yuta himself. This is his way of finding peace. He always wanted to have a pet, but his busy schedule makes him unable to own one. Instead, he’s been paying more attention to greeneries in his home. He said it was a therapy for him, and having a living plant makes the place alive, so he claims.

The bell on the door jingles after Yuta pushes the door open, cueing the staff who were busy arranging a bouquet to greet him.

“Welcome to Paradise!”

Yuta nods at the staff, telling her to continue with her arrangement and let him browse the flower catalog by himself.

Soon after, the bell jingles once more —only to reveal a young man with a sparkly eyes.

“Sorry, __! Taeyong left his apron behind so I have to make a visit to Kitchen Beat first.”

The person at the counter chuckled, “Don’t sweat it, Mark. We’re not that busy today anyway.”

“Let me put my bag first, then I’ll help to cut the stems of the carnations—“ Mark’s eyes grow bigger once he sees the familiar figure. “Yuta-hyung? Ah, I mean, Sir!”

Yuta turned at the sound of his name. “Oh, if it isn’t Mark!”

“Didn’t expect you to come here, Sir.”

“You can talk to me comfortably, Mark. We’re no strangers.” Yuta smiles. “Fancy seeing you here, too. Are you part-timing here?”

Mark nods. “Other than my job as an English tutor, working here actually calms me down. Maybe the flower gives the peaceful atmosphere?”

Yuta hummed, agreeing with his statement.

“Also, I can rest a bit because working here is not as busy as working at a cafe.” Mark continues, “Though we’re going to be busy pretty soon since Jaehyun-hyung ordered so many orchids for his wedding. Man, not just any orchid! If only he knows how difficult it is to obtain—“

Mark stopped at the sight of Yuta’s awkward face.

“Shit, Mark, how could you forget that he was your Noona’s ex-lover.”

He whispered to himself, but the store was fairly quiet with only faint instrumental song in the background —enabling Yuta to listen to each of his words clearly.

Your noona.

“Mark, go change to your uniform.” A female voice breaks the tension, flinching Mark who reactively gives Yuta a deep bow afterward.

Yuta definitely needs time to process what just happened. Pressing his lips together while occasionally biting the skin.

“A cheerful young boy, isn’t he?”

Yuta woke up from his daydream following her calm voice. “Mark is energetic, and I love how positive his energy is. Though sometimes, that can cause him to be slightly dense, too.”

Yuta couldn’t help but to let a single soft chuckle.

“So please forgive him, yeah? I’m sorry I couldn’t help but to overheard your conversation. Don’t take it to the heart, Mark was probably too excited. He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know. No offense is taken. I just need some time to digest it.”

“Take your time,” she continued with her bouquet, tying up the ribbon as the final touch. “Though, if I could suggest, I think our daffodils are very pretty today.”

“Daffodils?”

“Yes, the yellow ones on that corner,” she pointed at a bunch of yellow flowers. “I’ll help you with a bunch. It’s on a house, as an apology from making you uncomfortable just now. Are you going to put it on a vase like the usual or are you going to give it to someone?”

Yuta widened his eyes, quickly shook his head, “Oh please no need, I’m not offended by all means.”

“As the owner of this shop, I insist, Sir.”

Yuta hesitates, but eventually gives in. “The usual. Actually, a single bloom is fine. I would feel bad, you know, if you're going to give me a bunch. Business is still business after all.”

His remarks only caused the other party to scoff, “Our business is doing well, Sir. So please don’t fret on it. Anyway, it would mean a different thing if I don’t give you in a bunch.”

“Different thing?”

“Ah,” She closes her mouth with her hand. “Don’t mind too much on it.”

After spending the whole day outside, all Yuta needs is a refreshing shower to wash down his sweat. He placed his new floral arrangement on his dining table, before taking his shirt off when he walked towards the bathroom. He threw his shirt to the laundry bag, and unlocked his phone, ready to play his shower playlist.

Bunch of daffodils?

He suddenly remembered how the florist mentioned the different meaning of daffodils. He quickly changed the tab, typing the question on Google.

Smirk appeared on his face, after so many days shied away from the surface.

“Rebirth and new beginnings, huh?” He said to himself. “How cheeky.”

He puts down his phone on the countertop, resting his arms at the sink before looking at himself in the mirror.

Yuta is determined.

He picks up his phone once more, dialing a number.

“Doyoung, do you know the best hair salon here?”

A/N: We’re back with this!! I’m so so excited to continue this hehe~ To be honest... continuing this series gives me a lot of anxiety. What if the audience don’t like it? What if the one who loves Interlude won’t like my approach on continuing the story in Yuta’s POV? At some point it was difficult for me to write this, but as I persistently write this, it became more and more enjoyable and eventually those thoughts don’t appear as much!

Another thing to note, to prevent any confusion, the reader for Prelude will be ___ instead of the usual [Y/N]. [Y/N] belongs to Interlude! So think of her as another character for Prelude!

Also again, I’d like to remind you guys again since there’s only three additional songs, this would be a mini-series instead of a full series like Interlude. But hopefully, you would still give Prelude tons of love too!

#yuta scenarios #yutaxreader #yuta fic #yuta angst #neowritingsnet #yuta fluff #commoner!au #commoner!yuta #yutafluff #yuta #yuta scenario #fic yuta #angst yuta #prelude after story #nct scenarios #prelude #punch

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mydarlinginej · 4 years ago

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read my review of slingshot by mercedes helnwein here.

An exciting debut contemporary young adult novel perfect for fans of Rainbow Rowell and Mary H. K. Choi

Grace Welles had resigned herself to the particular loneliness of being fifteen and stuck at a third-tier boarding school in the swamps of Florida, when she accidentally saves the new kid in her class from being beat up. With a single aim of a slingshot, the monotonous mathematics of her life are obliterated forever…because now there is this boy she never asked for. Wade Scholfield.

With Wade, Grace discovers a new way to exist. School rules are optional, life is bizarrely perfect, and conversations about wormholes can lead to make-out sessions that disrupt any logical stream of thoughts.

So why does Grace crush Wade’s heart into a million tiny pieces? And what are her options when she finally realizes that 1. The universe doesn’t revolve around her, and 2. Wade has been hiding a dark secret. Is Grace the only person unhinged enough to save him?

Acidly funny and compulsively readable, Mercedes Helnwein’s debut novel Slingshot is a story about two people finding each other and then screwing it all up. See also: soulmate, friendship, stupidity, sex, bad poetry, and all the indignities of being in love for the first time.

my review:

Although I almost put this book down a dozen times in the first third, I’m really glad I pushed through and finished it because I actually ended up really enjoying it. Don’t get me wrong, there were so many moments I didn’t like (especially at the beginning). However, Slingshot accurately depicts the messiness of being a teenager and how much one can grow in such a short time.

Grace is resigned to hating everyone in her life and generally being someone who holds others at an arm’s length. Then she meets Wade. They get along so easily and quickly fall in love. However, she breaks his heart (and breaks her own in the meantime), and they both learn just how much first love can hurt.

Again, I really hated the beginning of this book. Like, I genuinely hated it, particularly because the protagonist wouldn’t shut up about how she and her teacher were meant to be (nothing happens between them, it’s entirely one-sided, but it was so irritating to read). I also thought that Grace alternately sounded like a fifteen-year-old and like a fifty-year-old because she would go on these really detailed psychological monologues. Don’t get me wrong, I know that teens contain multitudes but it was really hard for me to reconcile these two into one character. Add on her woe-is-me, “I’m not like other girls” attitude, and I couldn’t stand her.

I actually almost marked this dnf about a dozen times but I continued just because I wanted to see what happens. And I’m glad I did because I ended up really enjoying this book. It’s messy and melodramatic and angsty but it grows on you. So yeah, if you’re reading it and not liking it, I would suggest toughing it out because you may end up liking it like I did.

read my review here.

#slingshot #mercedes helnwein #reviews #mine #link #q

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hualianisms · 5 years ago

Text

MY DREAM IS ONLY YOU: a hualian playlist

(for books 1, 3, 5) (books 2 & 4 here)

listen here

track annotations under the cut:

BOOK 1

a thousand years - christina perri (hc pov)

Every breath/ Every hour has come to this/One step closer/I have died every day waiting for you [...] All along I believed, I would find you/Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years/I'll love you for a thousand more

servants and kings - radical face (xl pov)

And you were not like anyone I'd known/You spoke with impunity, had nothing to atone [...] It's hard to say just when I fell in love/There was no epiphany, no light from above/But you'd become my candle in the dark/And all through that Hell you were the shield across my heart

from eden - hozier

Babe, there's something tragic about you / Something so magic about you / Don't you agree? / Babe, there's something lonesome about you / Something so wholesome about you / Get closer to me [...] Honey you're familiar like my mirror years ago [...] I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

雨蝶 - e-jun lee (translation) (hc pov)

I fly towards you/I'm not tired, no matter how far/Even if there has been pain and tears in this journey [...] I break the cocoon and become a butterfly/willing to fly side by side with you

time after time - iron & wine (hc pov)

If you're lost you can look and you will find me/Time after time/If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting/Time after time

on your own - nick lachey (hc pov)

But if the world should ever fall apart around you/And if you're lost and barely breathing/I will find you and carry you back home/I won't forsake the only love I've ever known

run to you - pentatonix

(hc pov) I've been settling scores / I've been fighting so long / I'll run to you / I will break down the gates of heaven / A thousand angels stand waiting for me (xl pov) take my heart / And I'll lay down my weapons / Break my shackles to set me free

medicine - daughter (hc pov)

You could still be/What you want to/What you said you were/When I met you/You've got a warm heart/You've got a beautiful brain

BOOK 3

mystery of love - sufjan stevens (both)

Oh, to see without my eyes/The first time that you kissed me [...] Oh, oh woe-oh-woah is me/The first time that you touched me/Oh, will wonders ever cease?/Blessed be the mystery of love

pink in the night - mitski

(hc:) I've been blossoming alone over you / And I hear my heart breaking tonight I hear my heart breaking tonight / Do you hear it too? / It's like a summer shower / With every drop of rain singing / "I love you, I love you, I love you" ((when HC turned his blood rain into flower petals for XL))

(xl:) I could stare at your back all day/And I know I've kissed you before, but/I didn't do it right / Can I try again, try again, try again

marry you - paul canning acoustic cover (”gege, wanna get married?”)

i was made for loving you - kina grannis cover (hc pov)

Don't let me go, we'll be alright/Touch my soul and hold it tight/I've been waiting all my life/I won't scar your young heart/Just take my hand [...] All I know is, darling, I was made for loving you

all of me - john legend (both)

Cause all of me/Loves all of you/Love your curves and all your edges/All your perfect imperfections

come into the water - mitski (hc pov)

Do you wanna be my baby?/Are you waiting to touch me?/You look so good, but I keep my hands /Til you come into the water/Maybe I'm the same as all those men/Writing songs of all they're dreaming/But would you tell me if you want me?/Cause I can't move until you show me/I didn't know I had a dream/I didn't know until I saw you

futile devices - sufjan stevens (xl pov)

And when I sleep on your couch/I feel very safe/And when you bring the blankets/I cover up my face/I do/Love you [...] And I would say I love you/But saying it out loud is hard/So I won't say it at all/And I won't stay very long/But you are life I needed all along

all this and heaven too - florence + the machine (xl pov)

And I would give all this and heaven too/I would give it all if only for a moment/That I could just understand/The meaning of the word you see/Cause I've been scrawling it forever/But it never makes sense to me at all [...] All this heaven never could describe/Such a feeling as I'm hearing,/words were never so useful/So I was screaming out a language/That I never knew existed before

worship - years & years (hc pov)

I worship, high praises/My longing drives me crazy for you/My kingdom for your graces

coming down - halsey (both)

I found god/I found him in a lover [...] I found the devil/I found him in a lover[...] I've got a lover, a love like religion/I'm such a fool for sacrifice

you are my joy - the reindeer section (xl pov)

You are my joy, you are my joy, you are my joy / If I could cradle you into my arms/I would cradle you tight in my arms always

medicine - the 1975 (xl pov)

you rid me of the blues/Ever since you came into my life/Because you're my medicine

you are gold - the national parks (xl pov/both)

You are gold/You are all i see/You are aurum scarce and meant for kings [...] And there's something I need to say/But I feel too afraid/'Cause when it's real there's a risk/A chance that I'm nervous to take/Oh my, oh my, I think that I have fallen

this is why i need you - jesse ruben (xl pov)

Cause you make the darkness less dark / You make the edges less sharp / You make the winter feel warmer [...] You are the who, love is the what and this is the why

i will - mitski (both)

I will take good care of you/Everything you feel is good/If you would only let you [...] So stay with me/Hold my hand/There's no need/To be brave/And all the quiet nights you bear/Seal them up with care/No one needs to know they're there/For I will hold them for you

heart - sleeping at last (both)

I'm short of breath/Standing next to you/I'm out of my depth/At this altitude [...] You are beautiful/Like I've never seen/Go ahead and laugh/Even if it hurts/Go ahead and pull the pin/What if we could risk/Everything we have/And just let our walls cave in

with you till the end by tommee profitt (hc pov)

I'll take this pain for you/I will pull you through/I'll be with you 'til the end/Through the fire and rain/I will be your strength [...] When your fears are not fading/And there's parts of you breaking/I'll hold the pieces all together with my hands

i will follow you into the dark - death cab for cutie (hc pov)

If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied/Illuminate the “no”s on their vacancy signs/If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks/Then I'll follow you into the dark

chouchou musubi - aimer (translation) ((red knot of fate))

In this blue, wide world, among the millions scattered around/The two of us separately picked a thread and pulled it to ourselves

in a week - hozier (“to die buried together, probably feels like this”)

We'll lay here for years or for hours Your hand in my hand, so still and discreet So long, we'd become the flowers We'd feed well the land and worry the sheep [...] I'd be home with you, I'd be home with you

geyser - mitski (hc pov)

You’re my number one/You’re the one I want/And I’ve turned down/Every hand that has beckoned me to come

oh my stars - andrew belle (xl pov)

If everything you've said to me has been true/Then all my stars are leading me to you [...] Everything you see is ours / Or it could be if you would try / I wish you would I wish you might

so it goes - marianas trench (xl pov)

So I would chose to be with you/As if the choice were mine to make/But you can make decisions too/And you can have this heart to break

don’t deserve you - plumb (hc pov)

You're the reason that I'm alive/You're what I can't live without [...] I don't deserve your love/But you give it to me anyway [...] Your heart is gold and how am I the one/That you've chosen to love/I still can't believe that you're right next to me

love like you - steven universe (both)

If I could begin to be/Half of what you think of me/I could do about anything/I could even learn how to love (Love like you) [...] I always thought I might be bad/Now I'm sure that it's true/Cause I think you're so good/And I'm nothing like you

BOOK 5

turning page - sleeping at last (hc pov)

I've waited a hundred years/But I'd wait a million more for you/Nothing prepared me for/What the privilege of being yours would do/If I had only felt the warmth within your touch/If I had only seen how you smile when you blush/Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough/Well I would have known/What I was living for all along

all i’ve ever known - hadestown (xl pov)

I was alone so long/I didn't even know that I was lonely [...] All I've ever known is how to hold my own/But now I wanna hold you, too/You take me in your arms/And suddenly there's sunlight all around me

atlas: two - sleeping at last (hc pov)

Tell me, is something wrong?/If something's wrong you can count on me/You know I'll take my heart clean apart/If it helps yours beat [...] I just want to build you up, build you up/'Til you're good as new/And maybe one day, I'll get around/To fixing myself, too

better love - glades (xl pov)

Nobody's ever pulled me close like this before/So honest that it scares me/You make it seem alright to be this vulnerable [...] It's safe to say I couldn't know a better/couldn't know better love

the light - sara bareilles (xl pov)

And if you say we'll be alright/I'm gonna trust you, babe/I'm gonna look in your eyes/And if you say we'll be alright/I'll follow you into the light

cecilia and the satellite - andrew mcmahon in the wilderness (hc pov)

For all the things my eyes have seen, the best by far is you / For all the places I have been, I'm no place without you / For all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you

光年之外 - G.E.M. (translation) (xl pov)

For you, I’ve already gone insane to the point of/(feeling like) my pulse and heartbeat are totally unimportant without you/A pair of arms encircling my chest/are sufficient for resisting the rotation of the Earth

you’re not alone - meredith andrews (hc pov or both)

You're not alone for I am here/Let me wipe away your every fear/My love, I've never left your side/I have seen you through the darkest night/And I'm the one who's loved you all your life

past lives - BØRNS (both)

Past lives couldn't ever hold me down/Lost love is sweeter when it's finally found/I've got the strangest feelin'/This isn't our first time around [...] Through all of my lives/I'd never thought I'd wait so long for you

the best of you - andy grammar (both)

You've seen my dark side and danced with my shadow [...] you know me, know me/Wrestled with the old me/Saved me at my lowest, all you had to do was hold me/Console me, no matter how far I fall/Cause the best of me loves the best of you

anything for you - ludo (hc pov)

I'd give up anything/Anything for you/I'd give it all/All of this is true/But the best story that I could ever tell/Is the one where I am growing old with you/All I've ever wanted see, was to tell you honestly/I'd do absolutely anything for you

anyone else - pvris (xl pov or both)

'Cause I could touch a hundred thousand souls/But none of them would ever feel like home/And no matter how far and wide I roam/You're the only one I'll ever know/I don't belong to anyone else

francis forever - mitski (the year xl spent waiting for hc to come back)

On sunny days I go out walking/I end up on a tree-lined street/I look up at the gaps of sunlight/I miss you more than anything

wish that you were here - florence + the machine (xl pov)

You're always on my mind/And I never minded being on my own/Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home/To be where you are

i will wait - mumford & sons (xl pov)

I will wait, I will wait for you

find my way back - eric arjes (hc pov)

No distance could ever tear us apart/There's nothing that I wouldn't do/I'll find my way back to you

work song - hozier (hc pov)

When my time comes around/Lay me gently in the cold dark earth/No grave can hold my body down/I'll crawl home to him

gravity - coldplay (reunion)

Baby it's been a long time coming/Such a long, long time [...] And then I looked up at the sun and I could see/Oh, the way that gravity pulls on you and me

POSTCANON

god in jeans - ryan beatty (hc pov)

God is real, he was sleeping in my bed last night/We were naked with the radio on/Played him my favourite song/My love is my religion

watch you sleep. - girl in red (hc pov)

I don't ever wanna leave/I'll watch you sleep/And listen to you breathe [...] I never get /Bored of looking at you/’Cause every time I see somethin' new

little death - the beths (xl pov) ((the demon king’s birthday extra))

When you're near/My heart starts beating faster [...] My lungs they catch on every breath/My heart beats harder at the cage inside my chest/And I die, I die a little death

the idea of growing old - the features (both)

We can talk all night/We can talk all day/We can play charades when there is nothing to say/You turn me on to the the idea of growing old

what a heavenly way to die - troye sivan (both)

What a heavenly way to die/What a time to be alive/Because forever is in your eyes/But forever ain't half the time/I wanna spend with you, you/I wanna be with you, you

1000 years - kt tunstall (both)

In a thousand years/I know that our love will still be here/So close your eyes, my dear/Knowing that our love is going to last one thousand years

the end of all things - panic!at the disco (both)

Whether near or far/I am always yours/Any change in time/We are young again/Lay us down/We're in love/In these coming years/Many things will change/But the way I feel/Will remain the same

#wow this literally took me forever bc of the ridiculous amt of songs #anyway this is a wip may add more songs later #otp: my dream is only you #hualian songs #mine: tgcf

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pamphletstoinspire · 4 years ago

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Maundy Thursday - April 1, 2021

Today is Maundy Thursday

This day, Maundy Thursday (also “Holy Thursday” or “Shire Thursday”1) commemorates Christ’s Last Supper and the initiation of the Eucharist. Its name of “Maundy” comes from the Latin word mandatum, meaning “command.” This stems from Christ’s words in John 13:34, “A new commandment I give unto you.” It is the first of the three days known as the “Triduum,” and after the Vigil tonight, and until the Vigil of Easter, a more profoundly somber attitude prevails (most especially during the hours between Noon and 3:00 PM on Good Friday). Raucous amusements should be set aside…

Feast of Holy Thursday

by Fr. Francis Xavier Weninger, 1876

The Church observes the fast of Lent with the intention of preparing her children, in as perfect a manner as possible, for the glorious Easter-tide, that they may arise from a sinful, tepid, and imperfect state to a pure, holy, and even saintly life–a life most precious in the sight of the Lord. It is, therefore, the earnest wish of this most tender mother, that each of her children be penetrated with the greatest horror of sin, and, that every Christian, as he arises from the death of sin, shall also make fast the sepulcher of tepidity in which his soul has been for years, perhaps, buried. To this wish, and to the manner in which its realization can be accomplished, I will direct the attention of all whom I address during these three days of grace, asking them to consider with me the lives of three persons of whom Holy Scripture makes special mention in the history of the passion.

The first of the three is Judas, as he sat with the Lord at the Last Supper. Let us follow him until we behold him commit the dreadful crime which sealed his eternal ruin.

That the infinite merits of Christ may be effectually bestowed upon us, the first and most essential condition is, that we renounce sin entirely and forever, and thus, with hearts perfectly cleansed from the dust thereof, render ourselves worthy of the Table of the Lord, and thus, at this holy Easter-time, receive His precious Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity. A glance at Judas, the traitorous Apostle, will promote this condition of heart.

He is a mirror in which we may behold sin in all its depravity; in which every sinner, especially if he be a member of our Holy Church, may see reflected his own image, disfigured and distorted by the malignity of the crimes he has committed. This will be made clear to you today,–the day, upon which, in ages long gone by, our loving Saviour bequeathed to us His sacred Body and Blood.

O Mary, refuge of sinners, obtain for us a perfect knowledge of our sins and the grace of true repentance, that we may make a sincere confession of all our offenses against the law of God! I speak in the most holy name of Jesus, for the greater honor and glory of God!

Several circumstances conspired to render the sin of Judas so enormous, the first one of which was his exalted position. He had been selected from among the millions of men who had lived up to that period on earth, and who would live until the end of time, to be constantly in the society of Jesus. Oh, what an honor! In proportion to it, therefore, his fall was immeasurably great.

Another serious aggravation of his crime was his abuse of the graces bestowed upon him to fit him for his vocation as one of the twelve Apostles,–one of the favored few who, for three years and a half, enjoyed the privilege of walking with the Saviour of mankind. He had, therefore, before him the most perfect example of virtue; he heard all His admirable discourses; witnessed His many miracles; beheld even the body of Lazarus, already touched with the blight of decay, arise at the word of the Lord, and yet all this was without effect! Oh, what emptiness of heart! what an abuse of grace! For his sin there was no excuse!

The next aggravating circumstance was the terrible indifference of Judas. Christ, in order to watch over and rescue the soul of this ungrateful sinner, endeavored to win his love and awaken his interest by selecting him from the twelve Apostles as the one to whom He entrusted the care of His own temporal affairs and those of the other Apostles. As a mark of confidence, He gave into his charge the alms they received to procure the necessities of life. This gave him occasion to speak often with the Blessed Virgin Mary, who followed Jesus, with other holy women, to minister to the wants of the little band. And yet Judas remained cold and indifferent to all these proofs of the searching love of Christ for him. Unhappy wretch!

Thirdly, the sin of Judas was enormously aggravated by his astonishing obduracy. Even, though already guilty of the basest treason, he dared to place himself, with the rest of the Apostles, at the table of the Lord– the Last Supper! There Christ, elevating His voice, pronounced those awful words: “One of you is about to betray Me!” Awe-stricken, the disciples asked, in trembling tones: “Is it I, Lord?” Judas remained obdurate. And again the Son of God broke the deep silence, saying: “The Son of man indeed goeth, as it is written of Him: but woe to that man by whom He shall be betrayed; it were better for him if he had not been born.” Terrible sentence! Mighty enough to move the mountains to their very foundations, and to penetrate to the inmost recesses of the ocean caves! And still that obdurate heart remained untouched; nay, he even dared to ask: “Is it I?” Then the divine eyes of the dear Saviour rested with loving pity upon him, as He replied: “Thou hast said it!” Obdurate still, his heart closed to the softening influence of grace; he received the Body and Blood of Christ unworthily; and thus, for the first time, was the sacrilege of an unworthy communion committed, and in that moment Satan took possession of his heart!

Fourthly, the crime of Judas was enormously aggravated by the incredible baseness of the treason. To betray his Lord and Master–his Saviour, who had given him such testimonials of His love–for thirty pieces of silver, the price demanded for slaughtering a head of cattle!–Can more unprecedented baseness be imagined? The enemies of Christ would gladly have paid him ten, fifty, a hundred times more for his most abominable treason had he but asked it. And with what bold assurance did he perpetrate the crime! He kissed the Saviour–the token of friendship to become the signal of treason! What greater hypocrisy can be imagined!

The last and most terrible characteristic of the crime of Judas was that hardness of heart which, culminating in despair, condemned him on the very day of redemption, when Christ gave Himself a willing sacrifice to die that he and all sinners might enter eternal life. This miserable being, unable to bear the weight of his crime, perished by his own vile hand! Oh, horrible sin! Oh, incomprehensible atrocity! Yes, well might Christ declare that it were better for that man had he never been born.

O sinner, you who, while listening to my voice, endure the gnawings of that worm which never dies– the reproaches of a guilty conscience–do you not shudder at the picture of that monster who, chosen of Christ to be one of His dearest friends, betrayed his Lord, and then put an end to his own wretched life? He longed to escape from the night of despair which darkened his wretched life; but the refuge he found was the deepest, blackest pit in the abyss of hell! Oh, that the tree upon which the despairing suicide ended his days, and the halter which deprived him of his life, were here before you, that you might witness the agony and pain of the faithless Apostle who betrayed the innocent Jesus! What a mirror of sin in all its blackest deformity! What a hideous reflection is therein presented! Sinner, do you not recognize it as your own? Do you not find it a perfect representation of your iniquitous soul? And O! may the grace of God so touch your hearts tonight that you repent, and tears entirely blot out that hideous image!

Many of you have, perhaps, heard an anecdote connected with a celebrated painting of the “Last Supper.” One who had been a dear friend of the painter happened to offend him so deeply that the painter, in order to make him feel his wrath, in depicting the traitor Judas upon the canvass, gave to him the face of the friend whom he had loved so well. When the king, who had ordered the picture and was well aware of the recent enmity, first saw and examined it, he smiled, and, turning toward the knight, said: “Excellent, my lord; you are drawn to the very life!”–Yes, sinner, look at the picture of Judas; you, too, are drawn to the very life!

What increased the malignity of the sin of this traitorous Apostle was the sublimity of his election. Sinner, Christ has also chosen you from among the multitude of nations who have lived and are living still in the darkness of infidelity and heresy! You are a Catholic! Glorious dignity to which you have been elevated through the infinite mercy of God; and yet, through your own choice, by the commission of mortal sin, you became a child of Satan. Oh, what a deep and damning fall!

What also aggravated the guilt of Judas was his wanton abuse of the graces granted him by the Saviour, that he might live and die as became a worthy Apostle of the Lord. What a multitude of graces, O sinner, has not God bestowed upon you through your call to the true Church? With what frequent instructions and encouragement have you been favored! how many confessions and holy communions have been vouchsafed to you! how many holy masses have you heard! and yet these graces have yielded no fruit! Oh, fatal instability of the human heart!

The treachery of Judas was aggravated by the manner in which he abused the grace of God. Imitate him not; but pause before it is too late! Judas was coldly indifferent to that love which impelled the Son of God to go in search of him, that He might win a return of love. Sinner, you know how mercifully Divine Providence has followed you! how lovingly the Saviour has gone in quest of you! Take courage from the very fact of your having come hither tonight. It is an effect of the endearing love of the Good Shepherd, who longs to bring you once more to the protecting shelter of His fold. Oh, hide no longer; but meet that loving Guardian, and let Him guide you home.

What rendered the sin of Judas so terrible in its enormity was his shocking obduracy of heart. You, also, are guilty in this regard; for, although you have received all the graces with which he was favored, you have also been endowed with many which were never bestowed on him. Judge, therefore, whether his obduracy was greater than yours.

Furthermore, Judas never had an opportunity of approaching the Sacrament of Penance. You enjoy that privilege; yet, perhaps, for years you have looked upon it with cold indifference, if not contempt. It may be that you have allowed years to pass without making a confession; or that, when you have attempted to blot out the sins of your life, you have but added to the long list of your crimes the damning guilt of sacrilege. And why, O sinner, is this? Because your heart refuses to give up its darling passions, and you continue to commit the same offenses as of yore. Judas did not, of himself, petition for the Holy Communion; while you have presumed to challenge the priest to open the tabernacle and place the Sacred Host upon your guilty tongue, that you may drag the Body of our Lord into the mire of your heart. When the agony of despair drove Judas to hang himself, he knew not of the prayer that went up that day from the Sacred Heart of Jesus on the cross: “Father, forgive!” Neither had he the example of the millions who, for nineteen centuries, have been guilty of grievous sin, yet repented and found grace, as you have ever before your eyes, O faithless child of the Church!

Judas betrayed his Lord but once, and upon that very day the grace of God forsook him and he perished miserably, while for you Christ has waited for years; and oh, for His dear sake–for the love of Him who, for three and thirty years, suffered cold and hunger, contempt and derision, and, at last, a painful death on the cross–let Him not wait in vain!

The crime of Judas was increased by the unprecedented baseness of his selling his Divine Master for thirty pieces of silver; but is there not some sinner in this very Church whose darling passion is impurity? who would betray his Saviour for the gratification of the most shameful desires? Is there no drunkard listening to my words who, to gratify his depraved and vicious appetite for drink, would give, if not his own existence, why, then, the lives of his wife and little children? Yes, I say the lives of those whom he is bound to love and cherish, for he is slowly murdering them by his neglect! You, then, O drunkard, betray your Master for a price even more base than thirty pieces of silver! Yes, sinners, by your crimes–be they what they may–you have all betrayed Him over and over again for the basest considerations!

Judas betrayed the Son of man with a kiss–the token of friendship and love; and the faithless Catholic would fain pretend to be a friend–an adorer of Christ–while he crucifies Him by his interior life.

Judas yielded to despair and hanged himself; but, for the love of God and His blessed mother, I beseech you, poor sinners, let the resemblance between you and the wretched suicide stop before you yield to the temptation of despair! He forgot Mary! Had he hastened to her, and implored her to intercede with Jesus for him, she would, doubtless, have done so, and Judas would have been saved. Do not imitate him in this forgetfulness of Mary. Fly to her; throw yourselves at the feet of the Mother of Mercy and refuge of sinners. Judas did not hear the words of Christ upon the cross: ” Woman, behold thy Son; thy Child.” You, beloved Christians, who have yielded to the tempter’s voice, may listen to them in spirit and in faith.

O Mary, Mother of Mercy, grant to my fervent prayer a gracious answer, and obtain tonight for every Christian present here, who, listening to the tempter, has betrayed thy Son, the grace of sincere conversion, that in these days of grace he may be reconciled to God, and no longer be deaf to the voice of grace. Pray for him, O dearest Mother, that, when appalled at the weight of his sins, the demon of despair draws nigh, he may remember the dreadful fate of Judas, and fly for refuge to thy maternal love–the surest haven for all repentant souls. Amen!

“Now, there was leaning on Jesus’s bosom one of His disciples, whom Jesus loved.”–John xiii, 23.

We all know the four divisions of the day–midnight, day-break, noon, and eventide; and each of them is marked by a special divine fact which speaks in the most emphatic manner to the heart. At midnight Christ entered the world; He was born in a poor stable at Bethlehem; and in the birth of this little Infant we behold the coming of Him Who was the Expected and Desired of nations. At midday was raised aloft the cross by which He redeemed the world. At earliest dawn the Saviour, bursting the trammels of the grave, arose to life once more, and gave to the world a splendid proof of His divine power. But there remains an eventide, glorified indeed through the divine love of the Saviour, which led Him thereon to leave us the most precious, the most sweet, the most consolatory legacy that a God could bestow. It is the evening of Holy Thursday, when the Sacrifice of the New Law was instituted to bless the children of men.

Where is the Christian who can speak or even think of this evening without the most holy sentiments of love arising in his heart as the scene of the Holy Paschal Table, round which Jesus and His disciples were seated, rises up before his spiritual view? What mighty love was that which impelled the Son of God to institute this Most Holy Sacrament, that He might remain with us even to the consummation of the world! What a pledge of this faithful love! And, of all the Apostles, none more fully realized this than St. John, the disciple whom Jesus loved; and who, on that evening, enjoyed the privilege and happiness of being nearest the Lord at the Last Supper, and of leaning his head on the bosom of Jesus. In the whole course of his life St. John never forgot that evening. He styles himself the disciple whom Jesus loved, and to whom this great grace was granted; but gives us to understand that we also are permitted to participate therein in its plenitude, for he says expressly: “Those whom Jesus loved, He has loved until the end of time.”

Yes, we may all, through the grace of Holy Communion, not only rest on the bosom of our Lord, but receive Him into our hearts. That we may do so with the purity of soul and fervor of love which distinguished the communion of the beloved disciple, let us glance at him as he sat at the Paschal Table on this happy eve. O Mary, obtain for us some portion of that ardent love which inflamed the heart of the beloved disciple toward thy divine Son! I speak in the most holy name of Jesus, for the greater honor and glory of God!

To receive the Blessed Eucharist in as perfect a manner as St. John, depends, first, upon the preparation we make to approach the Table of the Lord; and, secondly, on the manner in which we make use of His presence in our hearts, rendering to Him our gratitude after the example of St. John.

But, alas! with too many Christians, the first requisite is wanting. Even in the time of St. Paul, as the Epistle for today asserts, many of the faithful did not make due preparation, so that there were frequently communions which, if not unworthy, yielded but little spiritual fruit. St. Paul writes: “Therefore many among us sleep, because they do not judge themselves, before they approach the Table of the Lord, whether they are worthy to receive His Body and Blood; “from which we are to understand that, even if they were not in a state of sin, the coldness of their hearts, and the little degree of fervor they evinced, prevented them from deriving the benefits and graces which were poured forth upon St. John after his fervent reception of the Body and Blood of Christ. I said: “Even if they were not in a state of sin;” but, of course, if the sin were mortal, such a communion would not only be ineffectual, but a fearful sacrilege.

That our reception of the Holy Communion, therefore, may be indeed like that of the beloved disciple, it suffices not that we are free from the guilt of mortal sin; but we must leave nothing undone to cleanse our souls from the dust of venial sins and deliberate imperfections.

The ceremonies attendant upon the institution of the Most Holy Sacrament, as described by St. John, are a proof of this. Jesus washes the feet of all His disciples; and our Lord’s answer to St. Peter shows that this act is emblematic of the removal of every defect and imperfection from the soul. Therefore, did St. Peter exclaim: “Lord, not only my feet, but also my hands and my head.” But even yet this is not the perfect preparation for Holy Communion. St. John was next to Jesus. This illustrates the ardor and fidelity with which he followed the Lord from the very moment he was called by Him. He was one of those three highly-favored Apostles who were permitted to be in the closest proximity to Jesus, and who enjoyed the privilege of beholding Jesus in His transfiguration on Mt. Tabor; and, even among those three, he was the only one who followed Him to Calvary, and beheld Him on the cross.

This feature in the life of St. John–“the disciple whom Jesus loved”–should awaken in us the desire and resolution to make the most earnest efforts to please God, and so become more and more like that Divine Model, and, like St. John, to be faithful unto death.

But the generality of Christians care not to follow the admonition of Christ: “Be ye perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect;” and here we can find the cause of so many tepid and fruitless communions. Should any one ask why we feel so little fear of venial sins and trifling imperfections, I would say: As the fervent love of St. John is wanting, so also are the hunger and thirst of his heart after sanctity, lacking in the hearts of many who go forward to receive the Body and Blood of Christ. Whosoever loveth truly, my dear brethren, avoids everything, great or little, that might grieve or offend the beloved object; and the more ardent the love, the more earnest the effort to please. St. Paul tells us, in the most explicit manner, that there is no communication between light and darkness, between Christ and Satan, between heaven and hell.

The very ceremonies made use of in the administration of Holy Communion show how essential to its worthy reception is a repentant heart; for the Church has prescribed that the “Confiteor” be recited aloud, so that every communicant may make another act of sorrow for the most venial imperfection which rests upon his soul before he opens his lips to welcome the Lord of heaven and earth into his heart. But what urges us on and strengthens us to emulate the saints in their zealous imitation of Jesus is love. “The love, of Christ urges us,” cries out the Apostle.

But many Christians are wanting in this divine virtue; and thus it became necessary to proclaim that precept, the very existence of which should be considered a reproach by the lukewarm children of the Church: “Thou shalt receive the Blessed Eucharist at least once a year.” O dearest Christians! the soul of a St. John, burning with ardent love for God, required no such command. He hungered and thirsted after that divine food as the heart panteth after the fountains of water. St. Catherine of Sienna, frequently said to her confessor: “Father, I am hungry.”

When this love consumes our hearts, the second condition necessary to receive all those graces and blessings, conferred by a worthy reception of Holy Communion, will not be wanting–thanksgiving. But if it be a sad truth that many approach the Table of the Lord without due preparation, it is equally to be lamented that a still greater number receive the Body of Christ and turn away without a word.

This was not the case with St. John. Judas received Holy Communion, and his soul was instantly enshrouded in the deepest gloom of a night wherein there glimmered not the faintest ray of hope; and, after having received it from the hands of the Lord Himself, he arose, and rested not until the purchase-money, for which he had betrayed the loving Redeemer, was clutched fast in his avaricious hand! What a contrast! St. John, absorbed in love and joy, can find no words to express his gratitude.

Yes, Judas is also a type of those who receive Holy Communion without a sigh of thanksgiving. With the cold hand of despair clutching his treacherous heart, he leaves the abode of love and peace, and rushes away to satisfy his greed for gold! Behold these models of a worthy and an unworthy communion, and consider well which one shall be your choice!

Yet Judas is not to serve merely as a warning to the unworthy communicant; but also to those who, after receiving, plunge directly into the stir of worldly affairs and schemes to increase their wealth. Alas, that temporal interests should so soon draw them away from Jesus! We may well be astonished, and exclaim, with St. John Chrysostom: “How can it be possible that Christ becomes so soon indifferent to you, that you can devote but a few brief moments to render to Him acts of adoration, praise, and thanksgiving for a grace so infinitely great, for a happiness so exquisite as to render man an object of envy even to the angels, and for which a lifetime of thanksgiving would not be sufficient!”

And if, my brethren, you again ask whence arises this neglect, I would again reply: From a want of that love which burned in the heart of St. John. Those who love, long to be with the object of their love. When blessed Armella, whose dearest joy it was to spend hours and hours before the Blessed Sacrament, even when she had not the happiness of receiving Holy Communion, was asked why she did so, replied: “Because I love.” And, beloved in Christ Jesus, by frequently visiting Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament we will grow ever in the love and knowledge of Him.

St. John knew and loved Him in a greater degree than the other Apostles, because he was always nearest Him; and, at the Last Supper, his resting-place was the Sacred Heart.

Obtain for us, therefore, we beseech thee, St. John, some faint reflection of the ardent fire of thy love, that we may, by lives modeled upon thy own, show our gratitude and love to God; and, when we approach the Table of the Lord, may we taste the happiness which filled thy heart when thou didst receive the Body and Blood of Christ. Then will we, while still on earth, already taste the bliss of heaven, to which celestial joy the Church refers when she prays: “Lord, grant that we may forever rejoice in the delight of Thy Divine Majesty, which a worthy reception of Thy Body and Blood will afford us even here below.”–Amen!

by Dom Prosper Gueranger 1870

The Church intends, on this day, to renew in a most solemn manner the mystery of the Last Supper: for Our Lord Himself, on this occasion of the institution of the Blessed Sacrament, said to His Apostles, “Do this for a commemoration of Me” (Luke 22:19).

Jesus is in the supper chamber, where the Paschal lamb is to be eaten. All the Apostles are with Him; Judas is there also, but his crime is not known to the rest. His disciples stand around Him. The ceremonies prescribed by God to Moses are religiously observed. At the beginning of the repast, Jesus speaks these words to His Apostles: “With desire have I desired to eat this Pasch with you, before I suffer” (Luke 22:15).

During the repast, Jesus, who reads the hearts of all men, utters these words, which cause great consternation among the disciples: “Amen I say to you that one of you is about to betray Me – he that dippeth his hand with Me in the dish, he shall betray Me” (Matt. 26: 21, 23). The sadness with which He speaks is enough to soften any heart; and Judas, who knows his Master’s goodness, feels that they imply a merciful pardon, if he will but ask it. But no: the passion of avarice has enslaved his soul, and he, like the rest of the Apostles, says to Jesus: “Is it I, Rabbi?” Jesus answers him in a whisper, in order not to compromise him before his brethren: “Thou hast said it!” But Judas yields not.

The legal repast is over. It is followed by a feast, which again brings the disciples around their divine Master. It was the custom in the east, that guests should recline two by two on couches round the table: these have been provided by the disciple who has placed his house at Jesus’ service. John is on the same couch as Jesus, so that it is easy for him to lean his head on his Master’s breast. Peter is on the next couch, on the other side of Jesus, who is thus between the two disciples whom He had sent, in the morning, to prepare the Pasch, and who represent Faith and Charity. The second repast is a sorrowful one, in consequence of Jesus having told the guests that one of them is a traitor. The innocent and affectionate John is overwhelmed with grief, and seeks consolation in the Heart of his dear Lord.

But the Apostles little expect a third supper; Jesus has not told them of His intention; but He had made a promise, and He would fulfill it before His Passion. Speaking, one day, to the people, He had said: “I am the living bread that has come down from Heaven; if anyone eat of this bread, he shall live forever, and the bread that I will give is My Flesh for the life of the world… He that eateth My Flesh and drinketh My Blood, abideth in Me, and I in him.” (John 6: 51 et seq.) As it was both His Flesh and His Blood that He promised us, He waited till the time of His sacrifice. His Passion has begun; He is sold to His enemies; His life is already in their hands. He may at once, therefore, offer Himself in sacrifice, and give to His disciples the very Flesh and Blood of the Victim.

As soon as the second repast is over, Jesus suddenly rises, and, to the astonishment of His Apostles, takes off His upper garment, girds Himself as a servant with a towel, pours water into a basin, and prepares to wash the feet of the guests. It was the custom, in the east, to wash one’s feet before taking part in a feast; it was considered as the very extreme of hospitality, when the master of the house himself did this service to his guest. Jesus is about to regale His Apostles with a divine banquet; He wishes to treat them with every possible mark of welcome and attention. But in this, as in every other action of His, there is a wealth of instruction: He would teach us, by what He is now doing, how great is the purity wherewith we should approach the holy Table. “He that is washed,” says He, “needeth not but to wash his feet” (John 13:10); as though He would say: “The holiness of this Table is such, that those who come to it should not only be free from grievous sins, but they should, moreover, strive to cleanse their souls from those lesser faults, which come from contact with the world, and are like the dust that covers the feet of one that walks on a dusty road.” Having finished washing the feet of the twelve, Jesus resumes His place, side by side with John.

Then taking a piece of the unleavened bread that remained from the feast, He raises His eyes to Heaven, blesses the bread, breaks it, and distributes it to His disciples saying: “Take ye, and eat; this is My Body” (Matt. 26: 26). Then the Apostles take the bread, which is now changed into the Body of their Divine Master; they eat: and Jesus is now not only with them, but in them. But, as this sacred mystery is not only the most Holy of the Sacraments, but moreover a true Sacrifice; and as a Sacrifice requires the shedding of blood; our Jesus takes the chalice, and changing the wine into His own Blood, He gives It to His disciples, saying: “Drink ye all, of this; for this is My Blood of the new testament, which shall be shed for many, unto the remission of sins” (Matt. 26: 27-8).

Such is the history of the Last Supper, of which we celebrate the anniversary on this day. But there is one circumstance of the deepest interest to us, to which we have, so far, made only an indirect allusion. The institution of the Holy Eucharist, both as a Sacrament and a Sacrifice, is followed by another: the institution of a new Priesthood. How could Our Savior have said: “Except you eat the Flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His Blood, you shall not have life in you” (John 6: 54), unless He had resolved to establish a ministry upon earth, whereby He would renew, even to the end of time, the great mystery He thus commands us to receive?

To offer the faithful an outward expression of the greatness and the unity of this Supper, which Our Savior gave to His disciples, and, through them, to us, the Church forbids her priests to offer private Masses on this day, except in cases of necessity. She would have but one Sacrifice to be offered in each church, at which the other priests are to assist, and receive Holy Communion from the hands of the celebrant.

The Mass of Holy Thursday is one of the most solemn of the year; and although the feast of Corpus Christi is the day for solemnly honoring the mystery of the Holy Eucharist, still the Church would have the anniversary of the Last Supper to be celebrated with all possible splendor. The color of the vestments is white, as it is for Christmas and Easter; the decorations of the altar and sanctuary all bespeak joy, and yet, there are several ceremonies during this Mass which show that the holy Bride of Christ has not forgotten the Passion of Her Jesus, and that this joy is transient. The celebrant intones the angelic hymn, Gloria in excelsis Deo! and the bells ring forth a joyous peal, which continues during the whole of the heavenly canticle; but from that moment they remain silent, and their long silence produces, in every heart, a sentiment of holy mournfulness. This is to show us that this world lost all its melody and joy when its Savior suffered and was crucified. Moreover, the Church would hereby remind us how the Apostles (who were heralds of Christ, and are figured by the bells, whose ringing summons the faithful to the house of God), fled from their divine Master and left Him a prey to His enemies.

The holy Sacrifice continues as usual; but at the solemn moment of the elevation the bell remains silent. When the time of Holy Communion is near, the celebrant does not give the Kiss of Peace. Our thoughts turn to the traitor Judas, who on this very day profaned the sign of friendship by making it an instrument of death. It is out of detestation for this crime, that the Church omits today the sign of fraternal charity: it would too painfully remind us of the sacrilegious hypocrisy. Another rite peculiar to this Mass is the consecration of the Hosts needed for the Mass of the Presanctified on Good Friday. The reason is that tomorrow the Church suspends the daily Sacrifice. Such is the impression produced by the anniversary of Our Savior’s death, that the Church dares not to renew upon her altars the immolation which was then offered on Calvary; or rather, her memorial of it will be by fixing all her thoughts on the terrible scene of that Friday noon. The Hosts are reserved from today’s Mass because tomorrow the celebrant does not consecrate, but only receives and distributes the reserved Hosts.

But although the Church suspends, for a short time, the oblation of the perpetual Sacrifice, She does not wish that Her Divine Spouse should lose any of the homage that is due to Him in the Sacrament of His love. Catholic piety has found a means of changing these trying hours into a tribute of devotion to the Holy Eucharist. In the church there is prepared a richly ornamented Altar of Repose where, after today’s Mass, the Church places the Body of Her Divine Lord. Though veiled from their view, the faithful will visit Him in this His holy resting-place, pay Him their most humble adorations, and present Him their most fervent supplications. Thus a concert of prayer, more loving and earnest than at any other period of the year, will be offered to our Jesus, in reparation for the outrages He underwent, during those very hours, from the Jews.

As soon as the Mass is over, a procession is formed to the Altar of Repose. The celebrant carries It beneath a canopy, as on the feast of Corpus Christi; It is not however exposed, as on that day of Its triumph, but concealed under a veil. Let us adore this divine Sun of Justice, whose rising at Bethlehem brought gladness to our hearts: He is now setting; soon His light will be eclipsed. Our earth will then be buried in gloom, until on the third day, He will rise again with renewed splendor.

After the procession, the celebrant returns to the sanctuary. He goes to the altar, and takes off the cloths and ornaments. This ceremony signifies the suspension of the Holy Sacrifice. The altar shall be left in this denuded state, until the daily offering can be again presented to the Divine Majesty; that is, when the Spouse of Holy Church shall arise from the grave, the Conqueror of death. He is now in the hands of His enemies, who are about to strip Him of His garments, just as we strip the altar. He is to be exposed to the insults of the rabble; for this reason, the Psalm selected to be recited during this mournful ceremony is the 21st, wherein the Messias speaks of the Roman soldiers dividing His garments among them: They divided My garments among them, and upon My vesture they cast lots.

Customs

As to customs, many families have a practice of visiting the tabernacles of three or seven nearby churches after the Mass on this day as a sort of “mini-pilgrimage” (any nearby Catholic churches will do). Some families visit the churches directly after the evening Mass; others go home and wake up in the middle of the night to make the visits (though since churches are rarely open all night these days, this would be hard to do). The spirit of the visits to the churches is keeping vigil in the Garden of Gethsemani while Jesus prayed before His arrest. Matthew 26:36 “Then Jesus came with them into a country place which is called Gethsemani; and he said to his disciples: Sit you here, till I go yonder and pray.”

In Germany, Maundy Thursday is known as “Green Thursday” (Grundonnerstag), and the traditional foods are green vegetables and green salad, especially a spinach salad. In Latin countries, Jordan almonds (“confetti”) are eaten today and also throughout Eastertide.

Back when Kings and Queens of England were Catholic, they, too, would wash the feet of 12 subjects, seeing the footwashing rite also as an example of service and humility. They would also give money to the poor on this day, a practice is said to have begun with St. Augustine of Canterbury in A.D. 597, and performed by Kings since Edward II. Now the footwashing isn’t done (it was given up in the 18th c.), but a special coin called “Maundy Money” is minted and given to the selected elderly of a representative town.

On this day, one may gain a plenary indulgence, under the usual conditions, by reciting the Tantum Ergo (Down in Adoration Falling).

#maudy thursday #holy thursday

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