#I am full of righteous anger

[angee1011]

Please don’t lose hope. I know things are very bad and will probably get worse. But do not lose hope.

We will preserve.

We will survive.

And I know, surviving is not living. But it’s enough to get through.

I know so many of you are tired of fighting. But we have to keep fighting.

And the truth of it is, the Democratic Party is done. It has to be replaced. The Progressive party ideology is stronger. And I swear to God, come hell or high water, we are going to change this country. We will do it because there is no other option.

Stay strong and please, please, please… do not lost hope.

[egophiliac]

his magic is so PINK and FLUFFY and PRETTY! I love it!

I'm ready to process the Diasomnias now, buckle up

[eowynstwin]

i’m drooling at ur older bf price (not much else to say except when/if u ever have more thots abt him please share 🙏)

previous

You curl in on yourself after sex, sometimes. It’s a pattern Price has noticed—you’ll finish, then he will, and in the humid moments after, the shutters in your eyes will close. You won’t meet his gaze.

He’s only asked once about it, and it had been so clear that the question disturbed you that he hadn’t pressed. You’d tell him, he reasoned, when you were ready—

(And he could nudge you in that direction in the meanwhile.)

The sink is put back together, cabinet door closed. Your sundress is wrapped and twisted around your midsection, naked breasts wet with his saliva and compressed against his chest as you lay panting on top of him. His shirt is in some far-off corner, thrown aside, and his jeans are around his knees.

“That was nice,” he murmurs in your ear, kissing your hair. He makes a home for his fingertips between your shoulder blades, walking the trail of your spine, up and down, slow as a tide.

“Mm-hm,” you say, out at sea. Far away.

He can’t deny that it disappoints him. But it isn’t about him, and he shouldn’t make it so. Even if it is about him, it isn’t actually about him—it’s about something else that has attached itself to him. Things are like that more often than not—deeper, older problems with hooks, the barbed kind that sink in and cling and won’t come out of their own accord.

So he keeps kissing your hair, and he keeps stroking your back. His softened cock hasn’t slipped from you yet, and he makes no move to dislodge it. You nestle closer to him; shift your body over his, a little, just for the feeling of it. He waits for the sigh—the long, steady breath you take after the act, after you’ve found yourself again in wherever it is you go after moments like this.

“This is probably weird to talk about after sex,” you say, and Price’s ears perk up.

“Nothing weird between us, dove,” he encourages. “What’s on your mind?”

You play with his chest hair a little, twirling it around with the manicured ends of your nails. (A manicure he happily paid for.)

“You’re the first man who’s ever given a damn about me,” you mumble into his neck.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says honestly. He kisses you again, because he wants to, and because he wants it to comfort you.

“You don’t make me feel stupid for not being able to do stuff on my own,” you continue. “My step—my mom’s husband. He used to make fun of me for, for getting confused about changing my car’s oil. Or he’d get annoyed at me. Or I’d need him to change my tires because I can’t do it on my own, and I’d call him for help, and he wouldn’t pick up the phone.”

“He sounds like a piece of work,” Price comments.

A younger version of himself would have offered to beat the shit out of the asshole. That self’s anger on your behalf sits radioactive in his chest even now—corrosive, roiling, righteous fury, ready to carve your name on whatever offal is left over after Price gets through with him.

But that would be for his own ego, not for you. That has no place here.

“Do you know—” and your voice breaks a little, “do you know how bad it feels when a man who’s supposed to look out for you treats you like you’re an idiot? Like you’re not smart enough to be worth helping?”

“Some,” he says. “It’s an awful feeling. I wish you didn’t know how it felt, dove. I’m sorry.”

He feels something warm and wet drip onto his chest, and your shoulders begin to shake.

It’s not the full-body, wracking cry of catharsis. Just an episode of something longer, something tired. A problem dealt with, over and over again—a wound that reopens sometimes, if it’s pulled the wrong way.

Price gathers you closer, wraps his arms around you tighter. He cups the back of your neck with one hand and murmurs “shhh” into your hair, soothing and quiet, squeezing you against him.

“I’m okay,” you say, a little watery. “Really, I am.”

“I know you are,” he says.

He tilts your face toward his, and kisses the center of your forehead. You meet his eyes with your own, wide and glistening with your tears.

“I’m always gonna help you, dove,” he promises, catching one that falls with the edge of his thumb. “And you can always ask.”

-

No I don’t have daddy issues why do you ask

[strawberrystepmom]

izuku x f!reader. enemies to lovers au, workshopped with @izvmimi <33333 her follow up part can be found here. wc 3.6k.

With an exasperated sigh, Izuku points the remote that looks comically small in his hand toward the flat screen TV screwed into his office wall to turn the volume up the moment you come on screen. 

“This week, yet another family was displaced by the inaction of heroes. When the focus shifted from merely catching villains rather than protecting the public…”

Your voice drifts into a blur, the man choosing to focus on your mouth and how it’s moving rather than what you’re saying. Plush and soft, topped with camera ready shimmering gloss. Your eyes are wide and doe like, your cheeks round and trustworthy. You’re the picture of empathy, pretty and polished, immaculate in every way.

It certainly isn’t hard to imagine why VOHSV, Victims of Hero Supported Violence, picked you as their spokesperson. Who else could manage this busy talk show circuit with expert precision? Watching you play the crowd and hosts’ emotions like a violin makes him roll his eyes but he can’t deny you are damn good. 

Your message is infuriating to him and his colleagues but at least you look like heaven sent while spreading it. It’s probably why everything you say spreads like wildfire across the social media apps he has open on his unlocked phone that rests on his desk. 

He’s listened to your spiel enough times that he can already fill in the blanks of what you’re saying but he picks up the remote and turns the volume up an additional click to be certain you haven’t deviated from your usual points. Costly property damage, displacement, lack of available care to those affected by the trauma of villain attacks, blah, blah, blah.

The interviewer appears on screen as the camera pans, nodding at the last comment you made that Izuku didn’t care to actually listen to.  

“And how does your organization suggest the Commission begin combating these issues?”

The camera is quick to pan back to you with your perfect smile, teeth striking and bright and dazzling. The man watching from his oversized office and overstuffed chair clenches his fist watching you, uncertain if it’s annoyance or desire that fills his chest, but he doesn’t look away despite the flashing red light on his desk phone telling him he’s being paged by his assistant. 

“I am personally calling upon the top heroes to do better.” Your smile doesn’t waver and the camera zooms in on your head and shoulders, allowing your next impassioned plea to land directly where you intend it to. “Deku, you claim you care, yet you are responsible for the most costly property damage caused by a hero in Japanese history. How do you explain that with that big smile plastered on your face?”

Bold of you to be taunting the man chuckling humorlessly from his desk about plastered on smiles with a high definition flat screen sized Cheshire grin of your own on your face but he appreciates the audacity. 

“Be a hero instead of just talking about being one.”

Perhaps if your life’s path were different you’d be a hero just like him or maybe he’d even be you, full of righteous anger toward those who only wish to help no matter the means. Or collateral. 

Without thinking, Izuku pulls his phone off of the top of his desk and his jaw slackens when he presses the little pen in the corner of the current most popular app in the app store. The speed of his thumbs is almost impressive, big hands on a little phone screen won’t stop the number one hero, and he smirks when his phone pings letting him know his post has gone live. 

Deku (@fight4smiles)

Name the time and place, VOHSV. I’ll gladly drop a check by to cover some of the damage you allege I’ve been doing. 

He gets to see your reaction in real time, the camera panning from you to the interviewer who grins excitedly, pressing on their in ear microphone and back. The man chuckles to himself, swinging back and forth in his chair, lips curved into a smirk. 

“It appears the current number one hero has responded to your challenge. He’s willing to meet.”

Your smile droops but you’re quick to put it back in place, brows raised and head nodding wildly. The adversarial relationship between the two of you is nothing new, Deku having spent the better part of this entire year ducking and dodging your direct invitations to speak with the VOHSV. 

He watches you smack your lips together and purse them, primly placing your hands in your lap and laughter comes easily. It’s no big deal to him to cut a check to help put some buildings back together, the many zeros on the end of his bank balance just one of the many perks of being at the top but it has never been about that for him.

Deep down, he knows he’ll never change your mind about your crusade but he would love to shut you up at least for a little while. 

“How brave of him to finally step up. I will be reaching out to him soon with details.”

The red light on Izuku’s desk phone continues to blink wildly and just as he leans forward to answer it, his office door opens and his assistant stares at him with disbelief with the current number two Dynamight hot on their heels, pulling his mask off of his head and gently shoving them out of the way.

The assistant scurries back to their position outside of Deku’s office as quickly as possible, allowing the men privacy.

“Why did you do that?” 

Izuku looks down at his cell phone and tosses it on his desk with a relaxed shrug. He catches a glance at your pretty face one last time before shutting the TV off, tossing the remote aside and turning his attention toward Katsuki with his arms folded over his chest. 

“You know that you’re giving them what they want, right? Giving these shitheads attention is just going to create more of ‘em.”

More of them - outspoken victims’ rights activists. VOHSV is simply one of many groups that have cropped up over the last several years as hero academies have continued to churn out bigger and better heroes with every graduating class. It has been a decade since Izuku and Katsuki graduated and the classes after them have only become stronger, a source of pride for both of the men, given their hefty donations to their alma mater. 

Sure the battles have become bigger, spectacles to be adapted into films and documentaries later, but isn’t that what being a hero is all about? What’s left behind after you save the day, no matter who may be affected?

The heroes of today are simply doing what they’ve been taught to do and that’s save the day no matter the cost. It’s hard to hold it against them when it’s systemic and historically that has been the main reason why most advocacy groups have fallen apart but not the VOHSV. They are succeeding because they have you, coiffed to perfection and ready to take anyone you can to task, including the devilishly handsome and arrogant man topping the hero charts.

Izuku sighs, his phone buzzing persistently on the desk in front of him. It’s certainly his agent or his PR team or someone eager to scold him for what he’s done so he ignores it, sliding the little piece of metal aside.

“I’d care more if their points were valid but we both know they aren’t. I’ll cut a check, flash a smile, and hopefully make their mouthpiece look silly enough she’ll stop doing press circuits. It seems like a winning situation to me.”

Bakugou snorts, unimpressed with the answer.

“What if this backfires and you look stupid?”

Izuku’s phone continues to buzz and he opens his desk drawer, sliding the device inside rather than deal with the issue at hand. He’ll comfort everyone later, what matters the most to him right now is when you’ll be brave enough to reach out to show him your hand. Right now, he has you backed into a corner and he simply wants to watch you make your way out of it, smug that he’s the one who has you pinned there.

“Impossible. People don’t take these organizations seriously enough for me to look stupid.”

Katsuki snorts, leaning against the door frame rather than fully entering the office. He was asked to stop by earlier this week, the two of them supposed to be ironing out details to appear at a hospital opening in another part of the city, but the task has clearly been put aside for a petty online feud headed by the Beacon of Hope himself.

“I think you’re already stupid.”

Izuku offers a curt smile and nods at his friend.

“I’ll take that into consideration along with all of your other opinions, don’t worry.” 

Any further argument between the two is cut short when Deku’s assistant bursts back onto the scene, peeking around the door frame. 

“Uh…the VOHSV spokesperson is on the phone for you, Mr. Midoriya.”

Izuku laughs and raises his brows, shifting forward in his chair and pressing the flashing line one button indicating a call is waiting. He presses his thick finger to his lips to encourage Bakugou and his assistant to be quiet and he hits the speaker button immediately.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”

It takes all of you not to toss your phone across the room at the sound of his voice through your speaker. You’re in the back of a chauffeured vehicle, phone pressed to your ear so hard you swear that your cheek and head are going to hurt later, nursing a bottle of water in your free hand. 

You weren’t expecting to hear from him so soon, either.

“I figured since you are so eager and have so much to say we may as well get this over with. We have an event on Friday night and you will be forwarded the details on location and attire and we are anticipating your donation of over five million yen. It will help many who have been harmed due to your recklessness.”

The blood pulsing in his ears makes the room seem smaller, the walls caving in on him with your words. You’re so adversarial toward him, so eager to bite and nip and bat with your claws out, and he wants to know why. What happened to make you distrust people like him so much? 

Remembering he’s the one who has you backed into a corner, he shifts in his chair and tents his fingers on the desk in front of him.

“I’ll have your check, don’t worry. I won’t let you look silly in front of the fourteen VOHSV supporters you have to impress.”

You scoff incredulously. There is something seriously wrong with this man, his arrogance blinding his common sense. Your fingers ache where they grip into the metal sides of your phone and the driver keeps shifting his gaze from the road to the mirror to see your face twist into varying degrees of frustration and anger. Taking a deep breath, you let your lips curve into a smile and narrow your eyes. 

Focus. You have him where you want him.

“I didn’t realize this conversation was meant for stooping to petty insults but I can’t say I’m shocked. It’s hardly a surprise you refuse to take anyone else’s safety given your own personal record of injured civilians while you’re handling villain attacks.”

Bakugou’s jaw drops and Izuku leans forward to lift the phone from its cradle, pressing the button to turn it off speaker at near record speed. It takes all of his self control to keep from snapping the cord in two knowing it would effectively end the call and thus his opportunity to antagonize you further.

“Well, you aren’t the only one who has done their homework. We pulled a profile on you months ago and know your entire background. You have no relevant experience that would allow you to criticize heroes the way that you do. Put yourself in our shoes.”

You snort from the other end of the phone, impressed by how bad he is at lying. Arrogance has truly won out over any logic this man may have in his entire body and you suck your teeth, jaw slackening because you have truly won this round.

“See, Deku, here’s the thing. If you were telling the truth about anything you just said then you would already know that I am a graduate of an international hero academy. I have been where you are, or at least wanted to be, but then I came to my senses. I used to hope you’d be able to do the same but it appears my faith was misplaced.”

Now Izuku’s jaw drops, his emerald eyes darting across the room as though the words he needs will magically spring forth from the walls. Sadly, nothing happens and he sits there with his mouth agape dumbly. 

“I look forward to seeing you on Friday. Don’t forget that check.”

You pull the phone from your ear and end the call, laughing to yourself knowing that you left this cocky asshole speechless. He mimics your motion in his own office, pulling his desk phone from his ear and placing it back where it belongs. As badly as he wants to be frustrated by the loss to you, he’s impressed by how easily you hit back without an ounce of fear or worry of what you’re getting yourself into.

A woman as beautiful as she is brave and irritating.

He feels his cock stiffen slightly in his sweatpants the longer he thinks about it and frowns, immediately thinking of exploding buildings and grandmas to distance himself from the fact he’s into how eagerly you spar with him.

His assistant and Bakugou both stare at him, his friend laughing and turning on his heel to leave, waving dismissively.

“Like I said Deku, you’re already stupid. Have fun on Friday.”

Izuku’s assistant follows suit and closes the door behind them, giving him time to lick his wounds.

The rest of the week continues like his weeks usually do. He’s called four times to handle villain attacks, each one ending a little less destructive than the last, and Thursday is when he sees you on TV again, smiling brightly on a different talk show in the same time slot you were in on Monday.

He keeps the TV muted, uninterested in what you have to say about the people he saved this week, but he watches your mouth move silently. His eyes narrow every time your tongue darts out, the tip of it wetting your bottom lip and his freckled cheeks heat when your lips twist into that winning smile. 

That damned smile.

This man has made bringing smiles to faces his entire personality since the day he zipped up his prototype suit years ago, vowing on that day to work as hard as he could no matter how bleak things seemed. It worked and it’s what he’s known for, joy and hope and safety the things he strives for the most. 

Watching you smile while calling his character into question makes him simultaneously furious and hard again and he has to cross his legs and imagine those same exploding buildings when you press your lips together on the screen in front of him. 

A knock on the office door captures his attention and his assistant opens the door, clipboard in hand.

“You have a tux fitting for tomorrow.”

Reaching for the remote he turns his TV off and rises with a nod. Everyone knows you have to look your very best for your biggest battles and he has no intention of showing up to meet you face to face looking like anything less than a magazine cover.

He just never imagined you’d do the same yet here you stand, 8 pm on Friday night, draped in dazzling gold silk that hugs every inch of your body. You’re taller than he expected, one long leg jutting from the slit in your dress and elegant neck draped in simple jewelry.

You’re beautiful in a way that TV did little to capture and the arrogant man finds himself speechless when you hold out your hand in his direction, grinning at him. He searches for hidden fangs and finds none, just perfect pretty teeth.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier this week, this organization is my passion and it gets the best of me sometimes.”

Your words catch him off guard so he just nods and shakes your hand. If you notice his sweaty palm you keep it to yourself and he internally chides himself for his nerves. He is the fucking number one hero, his face is plastered on every single corner of Japan, and he needs to remember that. 

“Hey, we all have bad days. I’m just glad to be here to shed some light on a small cause.”

Your smile dims and his widens, your palm quickly leaving his. Heat simmers in your core and you feel disgusted by your own desire. Sure, he’s one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen - all big muscles that his tuxedo does little to hide and pretty green waves falling over his face but he’s also the biggest asshole you’ve had the unfortunate luck of meeting.

Drawing your hands close to your body, you fight the urge to petulantly fold your arms over your chest, and he digs in his pocket to produce the check he promised. He holds it out in your direction and you pluck it from his hand, eyes widening when you notice that the amount written on the check is far larger than the five million yen previously discussed. 

“Doubled your donation. Very kind of you, Deku.”

He smirks and you feel warm again, cheeks heating in perfect time with your core. Perhaps it’s the glass of champagne you downed an hour ago to calm your nerves or the low lighting of the event space but he is undeniably attractive and you are undeniably attracted to him.

A terrible realization to come to while face to face with a man you called a liar and a fraud four short days ago.

Izuku enters your space and crowds around you, dipping his head low enough that his mouth is just above your ear. He’s bigger than you expected, an entire head taller than you, and you feel overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne and the way he carries himself. He has the demeanor of a man who knows he’s the shit and as much as it aggravates you, it thrills you too, the same heat lashing through your stomach with every flutter of his long lashes.

“Call me an optimist but I think we can still salvage a friendship out of this situation.”

You laugh, shaking your head and clutching the check he provided to your chest.

“There’s an after party starting soon if you don’t have more buildings to go destroy. I’m sure the rest of the VOHSV team would love to thank you personally for your generous donation.”

The hero presses his lips together and raises his brow, blazing green eyes meeting yours. The tension between the two of you is so thick that even the most unaware onlooker would feel it but the room is relatively empty and you’re grateful for it.

“Maybe I only want one person to thank me for my donation.”

Raising a brow to match his, you purse your lips and quickly consider your options. You could give in to the undeniable attraction, a sordid affair with a man you seek to change as part of your life’s work couldn’t possibly be good for optics if you were to be exposed. You could walk away and publicly embarrass him but that doesn’t sound like fun either so you do what you do best - think on your feet and hide your true intentions behind big doe eyes and a winning smile.

“There’s a powder room down that hall, last door on the right,” you motion to a corridor to your left and his eyes follow your movements. “Be there in ten minutes.” 

Izuku nods, moving enough to allow you to slip past him and he watches the way your dress shifts across your ass with each step you take away from him. He isn’t going to bother to be polite anymore knowing what is coming next, his mouth watering at the mere thought of watching that pretty little dress drop to the ground below both of your feet while he uncovers the treasure beneath it. 

His half hard cock presses against the zipper of his tuxedo pants and he doesn’t bother to adjust himself, taking a shortcut that keeps him against the wall and away from prying eyes to the hallway you instructed him to follow. Each step makes his cock throb and he groans when he reaches for the door handle, wondering what he’ll find when he opens it.

Twisting the handle, he chuckles humorlessly when his eyes fall upon an empty powder room. A large mirror framed by lights with a small sink and counter in front of it are all he finds and he shakes his head, eyes falling upon a folded piece of paper sitting on the counter.

Flicking the paper open with his thumb and index finger, he frowns at the words he reads first.

Better luck next time.

Followed by your name signed in delicate penmanship he traces the tip of his thumb over. The ink is still wet and it smears, his thumb marked with black. His eyes trail further down the note and spot your number below your name, the ink the digits were written in still shining.

At least you leaving your number tells him there will certainly be a next time.

[allupinyourminds]

@pscentral event 19 → music ↳ Beyoncé + music genres

"It is hard to think of a recent album that feels more commanding and imperious than Lemonade, not just in its lyrics – where defiant woman-scorned wrath meets righteous social anger – but in its music. […] “Country, alt-rock, left-field electronics, hoary Jack White blues-rock? I can do the lot.” That seems to be one of its messages. […] The sense of an artist being pulled uncomfortably in two opposing directions reached its peak with [I Am…Sasha Fierce]: one disc full of self-help-motto power ballads […] and another that suggested…a willingness to experiment – the percussion battery and oddly doomy minor chords of Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It), Video Phone’s minimal fusion of crunk rhythms, sampled groans, and needling synthesisers. […] 4 built on its predecessor’s more experimental aspects, and introduced the I-can-do-anything musical expansiveness that you hear on Lemonade. There were influences drawn from Afrobeat, dancehall and alt-rock; […] the Sleepy Jackson’s Luke Steele contributed the psychedelicised Philly soul of Rather Die Young." — The Guardian

[annikin-annotates]

Family Ties

Hi hello, good morning friends. I’m giving you a steaming serving of Ascended!Astarion x Spawn!Tav to soothe (or anger?) your souls. I hope you enjoy this one shot as much as I did writing it. With that being said, I’m not paying for ya’lls therapy bills. I don’t think this one is too traumatic, if anything, it’s tame.

TW: Gore, Recapping of the ritual, Ascended Astarion being his bastard self, brief mentions of birth and pregnancy, having to give up a child (for their own safety). 

Word Count: 2.6K

‘I’m doing this for you, too, you know. To make sure we are both safe, forever.’

She watched on in silent horror as the scene played out before her. “No, no. No healing sleep for you. Wake up!” Astarion hissed, as he ripped Cazador out of his coffin, his body splaying out awkwardly on the floor. 

“Get your hands off me, worm,” Cazador spat indignantly as he pushed himself from the floor to a kneeling position, still reeling from the force of being thrown. 

Astarion laughed heartily. “Hah! I’m not the one in the dirt,” his eyes darkened, a smirk curving the corners of his mouth, for the first time in two hundred years he held all the cards, he had the upper hand; and it felt good. He stared Cazador down, his body coiled like a snake ready to strike. “I am so much more than what you made me,” he looks to her, a silent plea in his eyes, “I can do this, but I need your help.”

There was no question that she would help him, she would have done whatever he had asked her to do, “All right, what do you need me to do?” she asked him, her fists clenched at her sides. Gods, she would have set the world ablaze if only to see him smile. 

“I need your eyes,” he paused for a moment, the air was so still around them that it was almost suffocating. “Use the parasite - link your mind to mine so I can see the scars on my back and copy them onto his.” 

“You would not dare!” Cazador seethed, though his voice betrayed him - that self-righteous air he had traded for something more human, fear. 

“I would, and I will,” his voice was laced with fury. Two hundred years of suffering surfacing, she could see it in the way his hands shook as they held the knife. His eyes softened as they found hers again. “Help me do this, please.” Astarion looked to her pleadingly, crimson eyes glassy and full of desperation - he needed this. He needed her. 

They recoiled slightly as their minds melded together, becoming one as the pain subsided and the world came back into focus once more. The weight of the dagger felt heavy in his hand, she could feel his fingers shifting nervously along the hilt. She could see Cazador from his perspective, cowering on the floor before Astarion, his hands raised in front of him; as if a pleading look would put the pain of the past to rest. 

She could feel how Astarion hungered for power, and it was all within his reach, wealth, power, freedom - it was intoxicating. She trusted him, trusting him was the right thing to do - helping him achieve the only thing he wanted was the right thing; if it was the right thing to do, then why did it feel so wrong? Why did standing idly by and watching a man be carved apart to feel the pain that he inflicted upon so many feel so wrong? 

And so the cycle would continue. 

—

He was not hers anymore, that much was clear; Astarion had changed beyond recognition. While yes, he looked like Astarion and most certainly sounded like Astarion, he was not him, not in the way that mattered. Loving gazes now traded for looks filled with hunger and thirst, for both more power and blood. The man she had fallen for on her unexpected journey was as good as dead, a colder - crueller thing having taken his place. No, the Astarion she loved was nothing if not merciful. 

For a time she had lulled herself with a false sense of hope that once the power became less novel, he would return to her. That his softness would begin to peek through again, he would smile again, that’s all she wanted. He had become a monster disguised as a dashing prince, but he was the very thing that mothers warn their misbehaving children about. The dark shadow that stalked pretty maidens and handsome young men down dark alleys, draining them of all they are - of all they could be. 

With the same hands that gave him freedom, he sentenced her to a fate worse than death, an eternity of servitude. The worst of it all was that she did it, she helped him with her own two hands, she allowed him to ascend. And when his greed came again, all hungry eyes and jagged teeth; she gave herself to him, and he took from her, hungrily and without mercy, the choices she could have made, ripped away. 

He hid her true position with flowered words, ‘My Dark Consort,’ his honeyed voice would whisper to her in the cover of darkness. The words sounded as wrong now as they did back then. Though she supposed it didn’t matter now, the die was cast and she had no choice but to lay in the grave she had dug. 

And what a grave she had chosen. 

She was glad she could not see herself in the mirror, what would she see? The sadness that clung to her eyes, or the bloodthirsty beast that now wore the skin of a woman long gone. She wasn’t sure she would even recognise the person staring back at her, a hollow husk of what she once was. She had sharper reflexes, eternal life and beauty, all the jewels and dresses she could want, and yet there was an ever growing emptiness that made home in her. 

What good was eternal life if you couldn’t live for yourself?

—

Silence usually blanketed the palace, a quiet so thick it felt as though no creature could break it. The sort of quiet that told you to run and never look back, that made your ears ring, a bone chilling, deafening silence. A blood curdling scream tore through the stillness of the palace, the usual quiet that the night brings becoming forfeit. 

Her hair clung to her forehead as she hissed and groaned through the pain, bringing life into the world felt as painful as taking it. It felt as though a wild animal was fighting to stay within her, its claws digging into her, like it knew the type of environment it was being brought into. She couldn’t blame it, though it did not have a choice. She gasped as relief washed over her, chest still heaving from exertion.   

That eerie stillness came crashing back down on the palace, hanging in the corners of the room like an unwanted voyeur. With the quiet came a familiar feeling that wrapped its claws into her heart and squeezed, dread. There was no noise coming from her child, why was it not crying? Her baby should be crying, there should be an ear splitting wailing filling the room; her eyes began to water, a lump forming in her throat.

She could not bear to put another loved one in the ground. 

A shrill cry tore through the room, forcing the silence back into exile once more, as if the small thing now in her arms had heard her prayers. It was a little girl, a daughter, and she was perfect in every single way that mattered: ten fingers, ten toes and a beating heart she could feel thrumming beneath her fingers. 

Had she always been this cold? Is this what she used to feel like to Astarion? Warm and soft, and so fragile.

She held the babe close to her chest, taking in every inch of her; her sweet, sweet little girl. Her finger shakily stroked the softness of her cheek, her breath hitched in her throat as her little eyes opened - two green irises stared back at her. Her long, dead heart fluttered in her chest, tears pricking the corners of her eyes; those green eyes were his, a little piece of the man she loved. From that moment on she vowed that no harm would befall her little girl, her sunlight.

It was hours before Astarion entered their shared chambers to meet his daughter, the bed sinking slightly the only thing that pulled her from her loving trance. She angled her body slowly towards him leaning into his form, she felt him go rigid at the contact - she did not care. She couldn’t take her eyes off the sleeping child in her arms, this tiny thing gave her eternal life new meaning. “Meet our daughter, my love,” she whispered, softly brushing the edges of the soft blanket she was swaddled in away from her face. 

She tore her gaze away from her world to look at Astarion, whose eyes had softened a small bit; before turning steely once more. “A daughter? Does she have a name?” he asked with raised brows, his voice too loud, too cocksure. He reached for the child, taking the babe from her arms before she could protest. Little brows furrowed and she let out a small whine of disapproval before settling into her fathers arms; she could have ripped his throat out for disturbing their child’s rest.

She shook her head. “No, but I think the name Juniper suits her,” she paused for a moment, imagining what her life would have been like if none of this had happened. Would she have returned to the grove where she grew up?  She cleared her throat softly, “It reminds me of the berries that grew by my home as a child.”

Astarion scoffed at the suggestion, it made her blood boil with contempt for him - a feeling that had become all too familiar over the last two decades. “My dear, my - I mean our daughter needs to be named something strong, fearsome, something like…” he paused for a moment, looking deeply into the eyes of their daughter. She hoped that when he looked at her that he saw the ghost of himself, she prayed it would make him rethink the person he had become. “Maitenirr. Now that’s a name fit for an Ancunin, isn’t it my darling?” 

A scoff threatened to fall from her lips, she swallowed both the anger and vitriol that rises in her throat. How dare he? How dare he snatch her child from her arms and name her. How could he not see that he held the sun in the crook of his elbow? Did he not understand that the small bundle was hers and hers alone? She nodded in agreement, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes tugging at her lips. She knew better than to go against his judgement. “Of course my love, what a lovely choice.”

Astarion had taken the privilege to name their daughter, it made her heart twist to hear a name with such a dark meaning put to a child. Bringer of Death, he told her that she needed a name that was as strong and as fearsome as the family she was born into, the throne she was now heir to. But her child was the embodiment of the sun, if holding her was as close as she would get to feeling the sun's rays on her skin, then that was okay with her.   

With each passing day, she wondered how someone like Astarion managed to have a hand in creating something as perfect as their daughter. She could see so much of him in her already, they had the same noses, they shared pointed ears, she smiled in her sleep like he does; like he used to. The more she grew, the more she realised they had the same mannerisms too, always quick to fuss and even harder to soothe.

The more Maitenirr grew, the more things became apparent about her; she loved the darkness and it seemed to like her too. She would reach out to shadowy corners while in her mothers arms, babbling away to them like they could hear her - like they were sentient. It was a secret best kept between herself and the shadows, for as long as possible.  

She couldn’t keep Maitenirr’s ability away from her husband for much longer, she had begun to conjure things - beings not of this world, from the shadows. She needed to devise a plan to get her daughter to safety; she would never forgive herself if her guiding light was dimmed by her fathers hands. She would protect her child if it was the last thing she did, from everyone; including Astarion - especially Astarion. 

If she was to expedite her daughter somewhere safe, she would need to be cunning about it, she would need to outfox a fox. It consumed her every waking moment, numerous plans scrapped; she almost thought about calling in a favour with Raphael of all people. There was one person in Baldur’s gate that she could trust to get her Juniper to safety, she prayed that they would do this act of kindness for her.

—  

"Please, take her. Take her to safety, do not tell me where. If he comes to me I will have no choice but to tell him. Please, he will ruin her if he finds her gift," she pleaded, pushing the bundle into his arms. Giving Juniper away felt like ripping her heart from her chest, exposing the softness of a person long dead, Juniper was a weakness she couldn’t afford to have exploited. 

“You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do,” he told her, taking a step back, his hands coming to gently push the child away. She could smell the fear that came off him in waves; she could see it in his eyes. 

She looked at him, her eyes full of terror and sadness. “I do, Wyll. Of course I do, but it needs to be you. If he looks for her, which he will; I cannot know where she is. I will be the first person he comes to,” her voice shakes. “I know I ask a lot of you, but please, protect my daughter. Give her a fighting chance, Wyll.” 

He sighed, taking the child into his arms. “I will make sure she gets to safety, you have my word,” he swore, his voice solemn. The moment he took Juniper into his arms, she had to fight the urge to snatch her back from him, it took everything in her not to scream: she is the only good I have found in this world, please don’t take it from me. She blinked back her tears, no, this was better. She would not sit idly by and watch another innocent suffer at the hands of a monster that she created. 

“Thank you, Wyll. you have no idea what this means.” Her child would have a fighting chance at a life untainted by cruel hands. She turned away slightly, drying the tears that had begun to spill. Now was not the time for tears, she would have eternity to shed them, now was the time to dig deep - to be strong, one last time. 

“Her name is Juniper, if there is one thing from this life that I can give her - it's her name,” she added, backing away from the both of them. Small hands reached out towards her, a dissatisfied grunt tumbling from tiny lips. She looked around nervously, she didn’t have much time, she rushed to the child one final time, pressing a kiss to the patch of white amongst the rest of her dark hair. A small piece of him. 

“Your mother loves you, more than you will ever know. Giving you up is my greatest sacrifice, I love you, my Sunlight,” she whispered into her hairline before stepping back several paces, she looked to Wyll once more. “Get her out of here, Wyll.” She made her way up the main staircase, away from the door, she dared not look back. 

The vipers fangs have bared, she must protect her brood. 

Thank you for reading, Please take a moment to comment or reblog my work, it really brightens my day and gives me the boost to keep creating!

Beta read by the lovely: @arcielee and @amiraisgoingthruit

[sgt-tombstone]

omg immortal soap

what if he's been around for a while and is proficient with swords

imagine him wielding a claymore

Anon you’re so incredibly right, that man was made to have a broadsword in his hands (bonus points for a full kilt ensemble too)

And, because I am a history major (and a research nerd to boot), here are a couple of quotes from Arthur Herman’s book, How the Scots Invented the Modern World:

“As Dr. Johnson observed, in the Highlands ‘every man was a soldier.’ The clansman was trained to fight from boyhood. Armed with his double-edged broadsword, which measured a yard long and two inches wide; his dagger or dirk; and his shield or targe, and screaming his clan’s motto as he rushed headlong at his opponent, he was a formidable sight. But he was no Iron Age throwback, the ‘bare-arsed banditti’ of English legend. He could be as familiar with handling a musket, and fighting in formation, as any British grenadier. For generations the principal export of the Highlands had been its surplus males, as soldiers and mercenaries for the armies of Europe. In the Middle Ages, Irish chieftains had hired them: nicknamed galloglasses or redshanks because of their exposed knees below their kilts, Scottish mercenaries had kept the Gaelic parts of Ireland safe from the English for four hundred years… ‘They are formidable fellows… They are all gentlemen, will take no affront from any man, and insolent to the last degree.’” (pgs 128-129).

“Once again, British cavalry and infantry flew into a panic as the Highlanders attacked… ‘Men accustomed only to exchange bullets at a distance… are discouraged and amazed when they find themselves encountered hand to hand, and catch the gleam of steel flashing in their faces’” (pg 149).

That’s the immortal Johnny I picture, especially if he and Simon meet on the battlefield, Scottish mercenary against English soldier. Simon has never given much thought to the Highlanders beyond the usual English disdain, but when he meets Johnny on the battlefield, all righteous anger and blazing passion, a broadsword in his face and a rattling war cry echoing in his ears, he knows that he’d gladly let Johnny kill him if only to have the honor of dying at his hand

Isn’t it fortuitous, then, that Johnny is waiting by his side when he wakes up hours later, a decent meal and an explanation waiting for him, because Johnny’s been around for at least three hundred years and he’s really fucking tired of going it alone (if the universe decides to dump some self-righteous Manc on him… well, he’s done more with less, and he’s sure he can crack that hard shell sooner rather than later)

As a side note, I highly recommend the book that those quotes come from, it’s a fascinating look into the origins of Scotland, its culture, and its people. It touches a lot on Scotland’s historical ties to England and the rest of the world from the 1500s on. The author is a distinguished historian (so he knows what he’s talking about) and it’s truly an enlightening read (and has taught me a lot about our favorite sudsy sergeant 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿)

[lbulldesigns]

My Jinx and Sevika Season 2 Theory.

So before the season 2 trailer dropped, we got this picture from Sevika's VA.

Which was our first look at Sevika for season 2. However, Sevika looks wildly different from what we see in the trailer; so the question is, how does Sevika get from this...

To this?

Get comfy this is gonna be a long one.

So from what we perceive from the trailer, there is a possibility of Sevika and Jinx teaming up, this is mainly theorized because Sevika used both Jinx's pistol and has an augmented arm clearly designed by her. I believe that their teaming up is a high possibility because Sevika has always put her bet behind the winning horse.

She used to be loyal to Vander, I'm guessing when he was still the Hound of The Underground and had a righteous anger towards Piltover, but lost faith in him when he became complacent with the Enforcer's mistreatment.

She then teams up with Silco, and even sacrifices an arm for him because he was showing more initiative and actually acting out on his promise to liberate Zaun from Piltover.

And even though we see her continuing to be loyal to Silco, there are hints of discontent with her in some of his decisions. Mainly his inability to see Jinx as a liability and continuing to place her on a high pedestal.

We are led to believe that she has an undying loyalty to Silco because she turns down Finn's offer and willingly kills him, but when Silco asks if she was tempted she says "Not for a worm like him. But he won't be the last".

Many people translate this as her being loyal to Silco but what she's really saying is that she's loyal to him as long as he's willing to follow through on his promise to free Zaun.

So I'm inclined to believe that she won't hold Silco's death against Jinx, she'll be angry of course however once she sees Jinx is not just willing to go to war but lead the march, she'll put her bet behind the winning horse once again.

As much as she views Jinx as a liability, she also knows her strengths and her abilities. I am fully under the belief that Sevika doesn't hate Jinx, she's just frustrated with her as she can see Jinx as a troubled teenage girl who has a severe mental illness. She doesn't treat Jinx with kiddie gloves, she's honest with her and harsh; which doesn't make her Jinx's favorite person but out of everyone in her life Sevika is the only one who is brutally honest with her, and someone like Jinx who despises liars, Sevika's honesty (even if she doesn't want to hear it a lot of the time) is a constant that Jinx can appreciate.

This breeds credence to the theory that the two will team up in season 2.

Another thing noticed and speculated in the trailer is that the two are fighting against someone in an ally way, however, I have to disagree about the location of said fight.

We know that Jinx and Vi's fight is going to be in the ruins of an ancient-looking temple, considering Zaun's history of being colonized by ancient Shurimans, I believe that this temple is a relic from the Shurimans and fully believe that it's a temple dedicated to Janna.

The temple is full of fog, you can see it moving around during the fight between the sisters, and we see Sevika emerge from it like a badass with Jinx's pistol raised.

Now this is where my theory finally comes in.

During Jinx and Vi's fight, Caitlyn (who is hiding amongst the pillars hidden in the shadow and fog) gets caught, yet again, in one of Jinx's bombs. But I believe that Jinx purposely designed these bombs to be non-lethal, she may be furious with Vi but she doesn't want to kill her. Something in Caitlyn will snap and she'll abandon the notion of bringing Jinx in alive will give into her want for vengeance, and will shoot to kill Jinx. Just as she shoots at Jinx, Sevika will shoot at Caitlyn. Vi will see Caitlyn in danger and rush to protect her, and Jinx will be distracted and not see Caitlyn's bullet until it's too late.

Whilst Sevika is fighting off the Enforcers trying to get to Jinx and Vi is worrying over Caitlyn, Jinx will be lying there dying.

This is where it gets maybe a little far-fetched, but bear with me.

Janna, in the Star Guardians universe, recruits Jinx because she sees good in Jinx and wants to give her a chance to be a hero and protector. In Arcane I reckon Janna has been an invisible spectator for however long watching her people slowly die over the years, she doesn't have the strength to help them because people have stopped praying to her.

There's a significant reason why the producers have the sisters fight in this location, and I theorize that the reason is that this is how they plan to introduce a new region to Arcane.

So as Jinx lies dying, going over everything in her life and maybe she wishes that she could've freed Zaun that she could have another chance to complete her mission, and Janna hears her wish.

And drawing power from the multiple hex gems in her vacinity, uses all her strength to teleport Jinx away. Sevika seeing that something is happening to Jinx jumps in to save her, much like what she did with Silco at the cannery; and both of them get yeeted away from the scene.

All Vi and the rest of the Enforcers will see is that another explosion went off and both Jinx and Sevika were just obliterated. Vi will see her sister's blood on the ground and realize that Cailtyn shot her sister and the weight of what just happened would come crashing down on her and she'll walk away from everything.

I know this all sounds like a stretch, but my main motivation for thinking about all this is what Sevika is wearing in the picture at the start of this essay.

She's wearing her signature Ponto, but the design of it looks like something worn in a desert environment; her clothes look Shuriman, the spikes on her right shoulder look like Shuriman accessories and the way she wears her hair looks like she's trying to shield as much as her face as she can from the hot sun.

I don't know where the theory will go from here, but I think Jinx will get the healing she needs in Shurima and both of them will find allies before heading back to their home to liberate it.

This would have a role reversal for the sisters, with Vi being the one struggling to find her footing and crashing hard whilst hallucinating her loved ones as demons; and Jinx will be the returning daughter to a new Zaun but unlike Vi will be anticipating this change and will have a clearer goal, and zero inclination to look for her sister.

Sorry this was so long, but I had to get this brain rot out of my head.

[croquis-el]

Let's talk about how similar Naruhodō and Mitsurugi are in terms of morality and high responsibility in relation to their work.

And how determined they are to put themselves at risk, knowing full well that it could end badly for themselves.

I will talk about how they both share the same moral principles and how they do not allow others to lead them astray from their intended goal.

So, illegal evidence

Now you may be thinking - what the hell, this has nothing to do with the topic

And I will say that everything is just the opposite

I will discuss the use of fake evidence, its creation and responsibility for it, backed up with evidence

Let's start, as they say, from the beginning and pose the following question:

Does Naruhodō believe that Mitsurugi made shady deals, and will he protect him from these rumors?

In the first game of Trilogy, we are introduced to Naruhodō, shocked that his righteous friend is surrounded by rumors of evidence tampering, and how he desperately tries to understand whether it is true (he does not deny the fact of the shady dealings, does not vehemently defend Mitsurugi, saying “no, he couldn’t do that” and is fully aware that this could really happen).

And at first everything seems open and understandable - yes, perhaps it was so, and now Naruhodō's anger about this is clear to us

But then 1-5 happens, which closes a huge plot hole and gives answers to many questions. Mitsurugi has never falsified evidence in his life, which he honestly states to Naruhodō and which is later confirmed in court (he was caught colluding with witnesses and hiding evidence, but not falsifying it).

Now let's get back to Naruhodō and his attitude towards this. Having learned that Mitsurugi did not fabricate evidence on his own (other people above him in position did this), Naruhodō does not rush to defend him, saying “This is a forgery,” but literally says the following: “So it's true. Even though he may not have known it... He really was involved in falsifying evidence” .

In response to the above question: Naruhodō believes that a lawyer is responsible for the validity of evidence in the courtroom, regardless of who provided it to him previously, and will not even try to deny this.

And he’s not the only one who holds this opinion.

Mitsurugi himself also believes that "The police department's error is my error. I am a prosecutor, and I am responsible for it."

Considering Mitsurugi's resignation letter, Akane Hozuki (Ema Skye) doesn't understand why such serious measures need to be taken, even when such serious accusations have surfaced, but without decisive action on the part of superiors. Naruhodou answers her with the following: “Someone has to held responsible. That's how it is in the grown-up world.”

Naruhodō understands Mitsurugi's emotional state and accepts his willingness to resign from the prosecutor's office, knowing that this is not happening in a vacuum. If you used fabricated evidence (not even by yourself) - bear responsibility for your recklessness.

When Naruhodō used the fabricated page from the diary, he understood that no arguments would be heard by the court and took full responsibility for providing the fake evidence (but not for fabricating it). Naruhodou acted according to his own words from 1-4 and 1-5 - he doubted the legality of this evidence, but still used it and took the weight of the punishment upon himself.

We don't know how he felt or what he was thinking in the days after his license was revoked (except he felt "lost" and because someone is too good at hiding his emotions), but even in the thick of the situation, he remained collected and calm, and two weeks later he began investigation to find the person who framed him.

And now to the main thing.

Both Mitsurugi (in the SL-9 case and possibly other unknowns) and Naruhodō (the falsified diary page) unknowingly (but not freed from doubt) used false evidence provided to them by other people

And both blamed themselves for their inattention, recklessness, naivety.

And now a new question - was it that they voluntarily used obviously illegal evidence?

Yes

Mitsurugi, being an acting prosecutor, deliberately used 10-year-old evidence in the investigation, for which, according to the law, it was impossible to prosecute the guilty party. He was well aware that he was taking a big risk and that the balance was between “truth and illegal evidence” and “justice and the loss of truth,” but he still took the opportunity to bring to justice someone who was above the law.

Naruhodō deliberately fabricated evidence as a suspect in the Trump Turnabout case and a disbarred former lawyer. And he didn’t even deny it while in the courtroom. Naruhodō did not claim that the bloody ace was real. He only pointed out the possibility of why this card had to be taken from the crime scene. He used a trick! And he also did it in order to trap the criminal who framed him (more than once). And we know that Naruhodō doesn't forgive two offenses - betrayal and poisoning. He wouldn't have tolerated such an attitude towards himself after the case in which he found himself involved in his 3rd year at university.

Naruhodō would never take another person's guilt after that incident (neither in case 1-2 about the murder of a mentor, nor here in 4-1). Therefore, he could not afford to be convicted and led the trial as an eminence grise. He had to go over heads to get rid of false accusations and he wisely used his knowledge of the law, strictly controlled his testimony, smoothly leading the court to the correct decision, gave his lawyer only the information that was relevant to the case, preventing unnecessary facts from slipping off the tongue .

Now let's move on to the most controversial issue: would Mitsurugi condemn Naruhodō for fabricating a bloody ace? (to prove his own innocence)?

I think not

Mitsurugi in AAI 2 talked about the flexibility of the law, that only a person sets the limits of his own capabilities, that the law grows and develops as a living being, as a person. If the law tries to hide the truth, then it is mistaken.

The truth is Naruhodō's innocence.

If you listen to the law, then the defendants turned out to be the innocent party.

If you push the rigid boundaries, it becomes possible to find the true criminal.

Officially, we don't know what happened in those missing scenes, but I believe that Naruhodō wouldn't have received an ounce of judgment from his best friend, and given the circumstances, he could even help from the shadows (just remember AAI, where he is still at the investigation stage proved the innocence of his friends and colleagues - it is enough that he unconditionally believed Yahari (Larry), Mikumo (Key), detective Gumshoe (detective Itonoko), so Naruhodō cannot be an exception, but more about their mutual trust later). Didn't it seem strange to you that the judge calmly agreed to Naruhodō's request for an additional search of the crime scene, and allowed him to practically carry out his defense on his own, guiding his lawyer in the right direction? Here's a new rhetorical question.

Also with the presentation of the fabricated page - Mitsurugi expresses out loud that he regrets that he wasn't able to help Naruhodō earlier (he probably tried), to which Naruhodō replies that there is no need to blame himself and that it was solely his decision to give up badge, admit the charges and his future without a lawyer's license. Naruhodō believed that he did not deserve pity specifically in this matter, but Mitsurugi proved him the opposite - everyone gets what they deserve, but what Naruhodō deserved was the return of his license and the reliable shoulder of a friend and ally, who strives to do only the best for his friends (and not set them up by trying to ruin their lives because of your own pride).

As the result: both Mitsurugi and Naruhodō strive for the development and evolution of the law, for change the judicial system, for search for truth and justice using all methods available to them. And they are ready to bear responsibility for the course of the trial, for the evidence they provide, for their own words, even if their actions don't meet the standards of the laws adopted in their realities and will lead to terrible consequences for themselves.

P.S. please remember that this happens in their realities, which do not pretend to be reality. Comparing our world and law and their world and law is wrong.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Edwin, Charles, and Monty Finch-Rowland (Amnesia Fic)

Occasionally memories surface and dissolve across his brain like melting candy floss, sometimes not even full images or scenes but instead sensations.

At the mention of exotic fruits in the garden, Edwin tastes pineapple juice on his mouth, despite the fact that Edwin has only drank it the one time. When saxifrage is mentioned, he remembers tucking a flower behind someone's ear, the petals and their curls soft against his fingers. When someone casually mentions the King of the Underworld sending yellow roses, Edwin remembers a flash of righteous anger and the memory of Thomas King being nowhere near the wedding.

Edwin remembers pain and these two- these four- being his relief.

He doesn't know why the memories are only coming now, when they didn’t when he was believing the wrong things, when he was terrified beyond compare and needed the relief far more.

Is it because his brain isn't running on panic and fear and dread 24/7?

Is it because he feels safe?

-aletterinthenameofsanity, can still hear you saying (you would never break the chain)

Do you love me anymore? Does my memory remain?

Lord, I know I've made mistakes but I am different now, I've changed

When I open up your door, will you know me from the rest?

Will you let me lay beside you? Will you grant me my request?

I swear this time around I'm gonna stay

When I dream I'll only dream of you

I curse the goddamn day that I went and left you

-Lord Huron, Love Me Like You Used To

@deadboy-edwin @icecreambrownies @anonymousbooknerd-universe @ashildrs

@tragedy-machine @just-existing-as-you-do-blog @orpheusetude @mj-irvine-selby

@pappelsiin @itsbitmxdinhere @rexrevri @sweet-like-h0ney-lavender @saffirez

@the-ipre @sunnylemonss @days-light @agentearthling @helltechnicality

@tiredghostby @sethlost @catboy-cabin @secretlyafiveheadeddragon @vyther15

@anything-thats-rock-and-roll @queen-of-hobgobblers @every-moment-a-different-sound

@nix-nihili @holvivum

[gimmemore14]

I wanna know about the zombie AU!

Yes!!! Sorry for the late response but I am almost the most excited about this one hahaha

Basically Bruce is the leader of a survivor’s compound and is oppressively vigilant and distrustful of the outside, will barely let Dick out to help on supply runs unless he’s going too, but then Damian gets taken.

Bruce wants a full lockdown and information before putting together a team, dick says fuck that I’m heading after him immediately

Meets a stranger on the road… thinks he can help… Dick probably shouldn’t talk to strangers.

Snippet with zombie typical violence/gore under the cut!

Dick gave up begging to the crowd pretty quickly, it only brought jeers and projectiles down upon him. The other kids in this pit don’t learn as quickly. He wanted to yell across the labyrinth to warn them to be quiet but then it’d lead the moans of the undead to him.

Instead he skirts the walls, avoiding the particularly rowdy spectators to try to reach the other three souls trapped down here with him. He hasn’t seen a zombie yet, but the twisted game master said it was going to be a “fair fight” this round; four humans against four of the undead, no weapons except for what the crowd might throw down.

Dick is pissed he allowed himself to be tricked into these sick games, he should’ve known better. He should have listened to B when he spoke of the monsters that hungered for blood and flesh in a way more depraved than the undead.

He stuffs down his righteous anger and focuses on finding the others. If they can stay together he can protect them, they have a better chance of survival as a group. From what he could see of the other ‘contestants’, they were all much younger than his twenty. He moves quickly, the face of a particular boy stuck in his head; dark hair and so very young- probably as young as Damian- fourteen and no more.

Dick freezes as he hears feet shuffling on the other side of the wall with that tale-tell slow, awkward gait. As quietly as he can, he backtracks and turns down another corridor. He knows he is faster than them, but that is his only advantage down here. Without a weapon, he can’t afford to be surprised or backed into a corner.

Close by, the crowd’s cheers have gotten louder. However, underneath the din he can still hear the blonde girl’s begging, promising the bloodthirsty crowd anything if they get her out. Her sobs turn quickly into screams and Dick forgets caution and sprints towards her.

He skids to a stop, finding two of the undead cornering her. She fends them off with a weapon that looks like a mop handle filed into a spike. His stomach turns as he realizes she is shirtless. A man in the crowd, with a face as grotesque as any zombie’s, holds her shirt to his nose and inhales while watching her fight.

Dick doesn’t kill humans, hell he doesn’t even like killing zombies, but that man has made his list.

He throws himself at one of the zombies as the girl stabs at the other. They tumble to the ground and Dick makes sure to use his legs to keep space between him and the gaping maw full of teeth and disease. As he distances himself, the rotted man swipes out with a hand. The undead use the full strength of their muscles until they snap or rot away, Dick doesn’t want one catching hold of him. He blocks but the zombie’s forearm gives too easily under his fingers, meat and tissue slough off in his hand even as the arm keeps reaching for him.

Swallowing his vomit down, Dick rolls up to his feet. Before the zombie can follow he knocks it back down with one kick and drives his heel into its skull to finish it off.

He pulls his foot out of the gore with a wet sound and turns to check on the blonde.

She stands above the corpse victorious, breathing hard but with a relieved smile.

He easily returns it, until icy horror grips his heart.

Dick should’ve listened closer to the crowd, should’ve realized their excitement was not for their success but at the prospect of more blood.

A brutalized hand reaches for the girl before he can warn her and latches onto her. He’s in motion before either of them can utter a word.

The skin on the zombie is still pink, the blood vibrant; he’s newly turned, one of the other contestants.

With his strength and musculature still intact, she can’t break free to grab the stake out of the dead zombie’s head. The freshly undead teen pulls the blonde back towards him as her eyes helplessly meet Dick’s, she turns resigned as his teeth tear through her neck like butter.

Dick screams louder than she does.

The spray of blood from her carotid artery hits him as he slides on his knees to retrieve the weapon, pulling it out and stabbing it under the zombies chin with one fluid motion. Her body hits the floor before the corpse’s, Dick only hesitates a second to check for a pulse before driving the stake through her head as well.

Tears flow well in his eyes as he reminds himself she was already gone, no pulse, he doesn’t need any more of the undead in here with him.

Swiping his vision clear, he stays on the ground to catch his breath. He tries to block out the crowd but it’s hard when what they’re yelling is so disgusting.

“Strip and I’ll toss you a dagger!” One old man offers.

“Agree to be mine and I’ll throw down the ladder, handsome.” A venomous looking woman entices.

Dick grabs a handful of gravel and flings it up into the crowd as hard as he can. In the cacophony of pain and anger he gets to his feet and heads back into the maze, away from the main crowd looking down on him. He can’t waste his time screaming at them, they are just lucky the walls are too high for him to climb.

As he makes his way into areas he hasn’t explored he counts what players are left, two zombies and the kid. Dick tries to stay hopeful as he searches, further encouraged after taking down another one of the undead with no fresh blood on his mouth. He keeps his faith that the boy is alive. He’s gotta be.

Soft sobbing draws his attention as he gets near the back corner of the pit. There’s no spectating crowd forming here yet so it’s blessedly quiet. He finds the youngest contestant cowering on the ground, his knees drawn up tight to shield his sweaty, fearful expression.

Dick is careful to call out to the boy before approaching, scaring him off is the opposite of his goal. “Hey, hey you’re alright. I’m here now, we can fight the last one together. Are you with me, bud?”

The boy lifts his head at Dick’s voice but his face stays miserable. Tears cut clean tracks through the grime on his skin, it only accentuates the boyishness of his round cheeks.

It's only then that he notices how ghostly pale the kid looks.

Dick’s feet slow to a shuffle, finally taking a second to look at the whole picture.

The boy still doesn’t respond to him, simply raising his hand to swipe at the snot running from his nose.

Fresh blood, bright red, runs down his forearm.

It’s instinctual the way he shies back from the kid.

“Shit!” He curses, shoving a hand into his hair. Dick grips his roots painfully, trying to ground himself. “Fuck… it-it’s okay, we can still figure this out-”

Maybe it wasn’t a bite? There’s many ways to bleed down in these pits. He could be fine. It’ll be fine. Dick just needs to clean it up to get a good look at it and-

“He’s been bit, Grayson,” A familiar voice mocks from above. “It’s definitely not okay, you’re a little too late.”

Anger snuffs his panic like a bucket of ice water as he takes in the Mercenary above him. “You motherfucker, this is all your fault!” He accuses, gritting his teeth against more rage that wants to boil out. “Get me out of here now. We had a deal!”

Slade’s mouth quirks up as he pulls out a cigarette and lighter. “Think you’re mistaken, kid. I never agreed to anything.”

“The fuck you did! You went back on your word when we both needed each other’s help,” Dick seethes.

The man inhales unhurriedly before taking it out to answer. He squats down so Dick can better see his face. “That’s where you’re wrong, kid,” he taunts. “You needed help, I needed bait. Can’t get through those doors without bringing along fresh meat.”

Slade flicks open a small pocket knife, tests the edge on his arm hair before folding it back up and tossing it at Dick’s feet. “I’m almost sorry to do this to you, but you’re quick and you’re crafty. Keep your head on and I bet you’ll make it a few more rounds.”

In the rage-inducing presence of Slade, the boy and the last zombie are all but forgotten.

Dick is shaking, holding himself back from throwing the knife right back where it came from. He still bends to retrieve it and clenches it tightly in his fist. He’s not quite dumb enough to throw away a weapon.

But god, he’d been so stupid.

B taught him- trained him- not to rely on anyone, yet he had trusted the mercenary and followed him blindly into hell. The raiders arrived just after Slade left camp that night, nothing’s a coincidence out in the Empty.

Dick knew the man was dangerous but he seemed honest. He never actually lied, just artfully concealed his intentions. Dick was right to be wary in the beginning, he’s furious with himself that simply having his opinion listened to and a few, gruff but kind words was all it took to lower his guard. He won’t let it happen again.

Slade stands, flicking his cigarette butt into the pit beside Dick. “Good luck kid, you make it out of here, come find me and I’ll give you the fight you’re burning for.”

Dick is suddenly jolted out of his anger, the very person who put him in here could be his only hope of getting out. He’s got nothing to bargain with except his own body and a hunch.

“Your daughter was wrong about you,” Dick says to Slade’s back as he starts to leave.

The mercenary’s muscles ripple with tension as he freezes, his head turning to zero in on Dick. Slade’s voice is dangerously low, nearly a growl as he demands, “What did you say?”

Dick can’t help the victorious smile that takes over his face. “That first night, you said you were looking for someone, never said who, but then I saw a girl with white hair and a familiar type of arrogance… and I knew.”

“When did you see her, is she still here?”

“No. They took her, the same place they took my little brother. You get me out of here and I can lead us there.” He bargains, crossing his arms defensively.

Even from the pit, Dick can tell Slade is grinding his teeth.

“Tell me where they took her and I’ll consider pulling you out.”

Dick can’t help but laugh, “I may have been naive, but I’m not stupid.”

Slade’s raised eyebrow begs to differ. “You aren’t ready for what it means if I get you out of here,” he warns ominously.

Dick scoffs, “I’ve been on the run before, Bruce is harder to lose than these fuckers.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. We aren’t running, I’m not blowing my cover for you.” Slade’s eye traces Dick’s body lasciviously, taking time to contemplate his next words before speaking. “If I pay them for you, then you’re mine, in all the ways you aren’t prepared for.”

Dick’s face turns red, finally realizing why only the pretty ones get spared. “You’re sick.”

“I’m realistic and I don’t do charity work.” Slade lets his words settle in, clawing their way under Dick’s skin. When his horrified expression doesn’t change, Slade shrugs, “That’s unfortunate, but I’ll find her on my own just as easily. You had potential, kid, but you’re too soft for the world outside your daddy’s walls…”

The man waits on the edge of the pit- giving Dick one last chance to change his mind- before turning his back again. It’s enough to pull a desperate, involuntary response from Dick, “Wait!”

Slade pauses, his head just barely visible to Dick beyond the pit walls. “Please, wait. My brother was shipped off to the same place as your daughter, he needs me. I-if I accept, you help get him out too.”

He glances over his shoulder, unmoved. “You are not in a position to negotiate-”

“PLEASE. Whatever you want from me: I”ll do anything, BE anything. Just promise.” Dick swallows the lump in his throat before using his last bit of ammo. Either Slade will pull him out after this or he won’t have to live knowing he failed his little brother. “Rose said you were a man of your word, don’t make her a liar.”

Slade twists around before Dick can blink, his glare pinning him in place like a physical entity. The mercenary’s controlled mask slips and all that’s left underneath is rage. It’s poisonous, all consuming… Dick can’t look away. He tries to take it back, he’s never miscalculated this poorly before meeting Slade, but the man cuts him off.

“You still want to get out of there, still want to belong to me?” Slade asks in a voice terrifyingly devoid of emotion.

Dick forces his fear-frozen body to respond, he can only manage a miniscule nod.

“Prove it. Kill the boy.”

He recoils immediately, “No!”

Slade tilts his head at the kid, “He’s at death’s door anyway, all you’re doing is shortening the wait time.”

Dick finally becomes aware of just how shallow the young boy’s breathing has become while he’s been arguing with Slade. He looks at the kid, who raises his head to meet his gaze. His face is empty of blood, lethargic but sweating profusely, he could turn at any moment… but he’s still just a boy right now. His pulse is so strong, he can see the poor kid’s heart looking like it wants to escape his chest. Dick’s face crumples in distress, turning to Slade in hope of finding any sympathy in his expression.

Slade’s face is as cold and closed off as ever. “He’s just about your brother’s age, isn’t he?” The mercenary asks as if just realizing.

Dick doesn’t remember starting to cry, it blurs his vision as looks back at the boy whose chin has started to tremble.

“We- we don’t kill the living,” Dick says, tilting his chin up as defiantly as he’s able to.

“That hippy shit is gonna get you killed someday, don’t let it be today,” Slade warns. “Kid’s only got a few more minutes, why’s it so wrong to put him out of his misery?”

“I won’t do it,” Dick nearly shouts. “It’s Bruce’s one rule-”

“Please,” A weak voice interrupts him. “Please… just do it. I don’t want to be a monster.”

[qiutls]

TNGDH 013

"It's obesity, Your Highness."

'What?'

"What?" Oh, I thought I was finally able to talk, but it was Kyle's voice.

The doctor who noticed the anger in the Grand Duke's voice trembled slightly.

"W-well, that, Your Highness' pet hamster, ah- I mean magical beast has no appetite and is inactive, so I thought that m-maybe..."

It was a breathtaking honorific, I'm the only one in this world to be treated this way, by the one and only veterinarian here.

Indeed, since this hamster is cherished by the Grand Duke, one can't carelessly say brash words like 'this rat' in front of His Highness, for fear of losing their voice.

It's absurd, but what can I do? They must be aggrieved to be born into a world where their status is less than a different species.

"It is a little difficult to determine if it has a disease because no trauma nor abnormal symptoms have been found. There was also no pain when I pressed its stomach. It's just when I pressed it carefully-"

"When you pressed it?"

Kyle urged him to speak with a serious look. The veterinarian shivered and continued as if he had been threatened with murder.

"..... It was j-just belly fat!"

I must've gained weight.

I slumped back down and looked at the two humans who were staring at me alternately. Why? What are you looking at? Is this your first time seeing a fat hamster? It's probably your first time, look at you two, you practically can't take your eyes off of me.

Of course, I knew why I gained weight. I ate too much during the morning. The food here in the North is pretty good, no scratch that, human food is just delicious compared to dried pollack. It's worth living as a human even if I was fed rice paste every day.

[ (^(00)^) ]

'... Did I eat that much?'

This morning Sen introduced me to the work at the kitchen. The servants were supposed to make fried sandwiches to distribute them to the refugees, but they were afraid of splashing oil, so I decided to help them out.

Who am I? I'm none other than the self-righteous man who worked at a fast-food franchise in Gangnam for four years, to earn tuition for college.

My amazing frying skills can fry any dish, you name it!

While frying, I took a bite of a sandwich to avoid the eyes of the people staring at me. Then I also took a bite of twisted breadstick, another bite of a sandwich, another bite of breadstick. One bite of donut, a bite of fried meat..... I had 10 bites. How many times did I repeat those 10 bites again?

Anyway, I ate my fill for 30 minutes. Kyle doesn't even give me fried eggs that hamsters can eat, why should I miss out on my only chance to eat high calorie foods.

I felt like a resident employee doing "bad things" prohibited to the newcomers, it felt good. Thanks to this skill, I have a chance to eat rice balls again. As expected, even if you roll in dog poop field, living is still better than dying, well living as a human, I mean.

When I left the kitchen patting my stomach, I heard the servants say how the food that came out of the kitchen seemed to be less than they thought. Ah! I don't care, I put an iron plate on my face and said I don't know why that happened. It seems like it was so cold in the North, that my face thickened.

Well, that's basically a summary of what happened in the morning.

"But Cashew Nut hasn't eaten since this morning!"

Kyle said panicking.

Of course, I didn't. If you were me and you just ate a box of fried food, would you still be blinded to eat nuts all day? You eat it.

But this morning, I didn't just stuff my stomach, okay? In order to prevent the chandelier incident, I tried to tell some servants and attendants to inspect the central chandelier at the banquet hall.

The problem was that my identity was ambiguous, and although my words were convincing, why would they believe someone who's unfamiliar and kept bothering them to check the chandelier.

The last servant I talked to just gave me a basket full of bread and said, "Don't insult the castle that is providing for you, just fry the food properly, so you don't get in trouble."

Anyway, after eating so much in the morning, Kyle was probably worried seeing me sleep all throughout the day and just waking up in the afternoon. So, he explained to the doctor, how I had no appetite and no energy.

"Look again, are you sure you didn't miss anything when checking its stomach?"

The veterinarian touched my stomach again out of courtesy and pressed down, his voice shook as he said.

"It's really just fat..."

Silence filled the room.

All right, take your hands off of me, you're trembling so much you even shook my whole body.

"I see..."

Kyle spoke in an unconvinced tone. I slipped away from the doctor's palm and went to hug his (Kyle's) elbow.

Take it easy, okay? If the vet said I gained weight, then I gained it. Will a hamster die just because he's fat? I'll even eat a nut or two during dinner, alright?

Kyle stroked by back with his fingertips perhaps because my silent consolation was too strong.

"..... How can you be obese when you're so cute."

Ah, this is shocking. It seems like there's no logic left in the North.

The vet seemed to think the same thing as I did, but he just kept quiet and bowed his head. That's right, there's only one life and we should cherish it.

"It seems like you need more care from now on."

"Yes, Your Highness, periodic care is very important. You should let it exercise as much as possible and avoid giving it a fatty diet. It would be helpful to feed it boiled vegetables. And don't worry too much, isn't the magical beast, still in its growing period?"

I'm sorry to say this, but my growth period ended 10 years ago...

"Probably after the growth period, the problem will be solved little by little as the body grows. So don't worry too much, Your Highness."

"Alright."

"Are bodies of magical beasts usually this big?"

"No, it's larger."

"Then, Your Highness, you may need to change things like the wheel, the size of the room, maybe even the house itself."

Kyle replied without hesitation.

"I can change it a hundred times if needed."

It's a tearful love for a hamster. Why are you spending so much money and love on me.

"By the way, you said periodic care."

Kyle pondered for a moment and said,

"I think your skills are good, and since this magical beast will continue to grow, why don't you settle here in the North."

"Here, in the North..."

The veterinarian seemed to have doubted his ears.

It's normal, of course. From the moment he checked on me, Kyle has worn a serious look, he probably can't understand why Kyle wants him to stay.

But maybe it's not a bad suggestion seeing as his face is slightly flushed. Is this guy in the original novel?

[ Veterinarian. Approximately 15 days until the estimated time fo death. ]

Death again? 

'Tell me how he's supposed to die.'

[ Belial's mother, the current empress, Serena Minehardt's old cat fell ill, and this veterinarian wasn't able to treat it, so he was executed immediately after the cat's death. ]

This reason... Is too absurd...

Is a veterinarian a god?

Isn't it common for pets to die of old age? You're killing a man because he couldn't make your cat immortal? She's an empress with no brain ah.

It seems like he used to work in the palace and realized the cat's situation and ran here to the North by joining the procession in disguise of taking care of horses.

If he had a reason to settle down in the North, it would be a great opportunity to save his life. While Kyle was busy paying, the vet's face was turning brighter and brighter.

"Don't worry about money, I'll pay you for treating him."

Money doesn't matter! Promise him you won't kill him even if this hamster dies, you tactless creature!

"Is there anything else you want? I'll negotiate with His Majesty (Belial) if you still have any concerns."

The veterinarian seemed to wonder whether it's better to stay with the royal family or here. Although they seemed like they would both do the same thing, an obese hamster's life expectancy seems to be longer than an old cat's.

"No! I'm honored to stay and be at your service, Your Highness."

There you go!

I went to the edge of Kyle's hand and patted the doctor's arm as a compliment. You made the right decision. This is the way to lengthen your life. 

[ The person who was fated to die is no longer in danger. ]

[ Miracle value has risen! ]

[ Current miracle value is 11.0% ]

Wow, it went up 3% in an instant. Saving people's live is indeed the right way.

My eyes brightened at the realization, if saving a no name character gives 3%, then how much more would I get if I save Kyle!

Add a zero next to the 3 next time, System. Write it big when the time comes.

[ The duration of "Summon" has been increased to 1 hour. ]

The skill which originally lasted for 30 minutes only has been increased twice. It's probably due to the miracle value exceeding 10%.

Alright! I'll get up earlier and eat 30 more fried- ah..... No let's stop eating that. At this rate, I might really forget how to walk.

The hamster's body was too honest. You gain as much weight as you eat. It's fortunate that my human body still stays the same.

"Cashew Nut."

After extending his life expectancy, the vet now has a bright face. However, Kyle still looked gloomy, as if he heard my life was ending soon.

Hey, you punk. It's you who has a month to live, you shouldn't be worrying about me. Technically, I- I'm already dead. I already died so.

..... I need to raise the miracle value, so that both you and I could survive. I have no choice but to trust the system.

"Cashew Nut, you must have heard what the doctor said earlier right?"

Usually, hamsters don't understand people, Your Highness.

"Occasional exercise can lengthen your lifespan."

Kyle put me back in the house and said solemnly.

Ahhh, I don't know. I don't understand. What exercise? I already ran a thousand laps on the wheel, I think that's enough exercise for my whole life. If you want to exercise so bad, do it yourself!

"Hurry up, don't you like this?"

He put the wheel in front of me and began spinning it with his finger while looking at me anxiously. The wheel turned like a Ferris wheel, and it improved my mood. Oh, he's actually good at acting cute, turn it around more!

"Cashew Nut, please."

― Eek! [ Don't wanna! ]

"Just one turn, okay?"

― Squeak! [ You do it yourself! ]

It's annoying, I don't want to exercise. After you sigh, everything you eat is already digested. Didn't you think I'm cute as a chubby hamster? Just accept it!

'By the way, what should I do with Belial.'

Ever since that day they almost fought, Belial hasn't visited the study once.

It's not hard to find out which room he's staying, but I can't get in as a servant. It's no use even if "Summon" lasted for ten hours instead of an hour.

'..... How to prevent the chandelier falling during the banquet.'

Ah, how am I supposed to do this.

I can already feel a headache coming. Mr. System, isn't this too difficult for a hamster to accomplish. Please change the difficulty to beginner mode!

[ _(:3」∠)_  ]

You're just lying down? Fine I'll just lie down as well.

I fell asleep drowsily after watching Kyle acting cute for a long time.

T/N: I'm sorry if the quality of the translation this time is a bit lacking, I'm currently sick, but since I already started translating this chapter, I thought I should just finish it before I let myself rest. Once again tysm to everyone who donated, it is much appreciated!!! novel ⠀✿⠀ next

[barbex]

happy friday! gotta go with fenders hehe, maybe the prompt of “Will you look at me?”

Thank you for this @dadrunkwriting prompt! Here comes the fenders fic.

---

"Are you here to gloat?" Anders kneels between the meager piles of his belongings, deciding what he can take with him and what he should just leave behind.

"I am not," Fenris says.

"Why not?" Anders' fingers clench into his mother's pillow. "You saw what happened, I lost control, just like you said I would. You were right, I am an abomination and a monster." He wonders how he can talk like this, with his voice so strangely detached, even though he's falling apart inside.

Fenris opens and closes his mouth several times before he speaks. "You are not a monster."

What little reserves of control kept holding him together, they're gone now. Anders buries his face in his hands and cries. Big, ugly sobs that make his stomach hurt. "Don't do this, don't be nice to me out of pity. I don't even know why you're here, why do you care?"

"Will you look at me, Anders?"

"Why?" But still, he raises his head, not caring for the snot and tears on his face. He looks at Fenris, startled by his expression. He expected anger, or disgust, but not... this. The way Fenris looks at him is gentle, full of worry.

Again, Fenris seems to fight for the right words, starting and stopping several times. "I saw you lose control of your demon, your spirit, but you got it back."

"I almost killed that girl!" His vision swims as more tears fall.

"But you didn't. You stopped."

Anders grabs his hair and pulls. "Only because you and Hawke — if I had been alone..."

Fenris takes his hands and untangles them from his hair. "In Tevinter, I have seen mages do terrible things, deliberately. They were cruel and vicious, not because they were possessed, but because they could." He keeps holding Anders' hand. "You, I have only seen you use your magic deliberately for good and righteous causes."  

Anders doesn't know what to say. He wipes his face clean with his sleeve, acutely aware that Fenris still holds his other hand in his. 

"I see that difference now."

A snort does terrible things to his snot problem. "After today? After I almost...?"

"Almost means you did not do it," Fenris says. "Look at me, mage."

As if Anders could look away.

"I trust you. You are not an abomination."

"But, what if, one day, it becomes too much? What is Justice changes, and I lose control of him? What if I change him so much, he turns into a demon?" His chest feels too tight.

Fenris takes a long breath. "If you ask me to, I will strike you down if your spirit turns into a demon."

Anders pulls Fenris' hand to his chest, letting the warmth of his hand calm him. "Do you promise?"

With wide eyes, Fenris nods. "I promise." 

This close, Anders sees golden spots glitter in the green of Fenris' eyes. He blinks, moving a little closer. "Thank you."

"Anders," Fenris whispers. 

Anders kisses him, just barely, just a gentle brush of their lips and then quickly leans back. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Fenris doesn't move, his eyes flicking between Anders' eyes and lips. "Again."

"Another kiss?"

Instead of an answer, Fenris closes the distance and kisses him. This time it's a real kiss, hot, hungry, dizzying. 

Catching his breath, Anders brushes the hair from Fenris' face. "Fen, have you never been kissed?"

Fenris' hand slides behind Anders' neck. "Not like this, no." And he kisses him again.

[scribeforchrist-blog]

Devoted To God 

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ 1 Corinthians 16:14: Let all that you do be done in love.

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VERSE OF THE DAY 

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+ Deuteronomy 7:4, for they will turn your children away from following me to serve other gods, and the Lord’s anger will burn against you and will quickly destroy you. 

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM RIGHTEOUS

I AM DEVOTED TO GOD

I AM FULL OF PEACE

I AM HUMBLE

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READ TIME: 7 Minutes & 5 Seconds

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THOUGHTS:

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  We don’t realize how things can change our perspective or our ways. We often think that it's our thinking, but sometimes it’s the people we are around that cause us to turn the other way; the Israelites were a very stubborn stiff neck people who loved to do what they wanted and not do what the lord wanted sometimes we can think that making friends with the world is okay. Still, God wants us to know it isn’t. 

    The world has its views on God, and it has its views on what they think of a godly man or woman of God; it has been shown in the word multiple times how being around the wrong people can cause your heart to turn away from God. 

  The Lord gave them a stern warning. He said they will have you serving their gods, my anger will burn against you, and I will destroy you; he told them exactly what would happen, but they wouldn’t listen. Sometimes, we can want something so badly that we don’t see it as a stronghold; we don’t see it as a distraction or a trap of the enemy. 

  1 Kings 11:2 They were from nations about which the Lord had told the Israelites, “You must not intermarry with them, because they will surely turn your hearts after their gods.” Nevertheless, Solomon held fast to them in love. 

 

1 Kings 11:4 As Solomon grew old, his wives turned his heart after other gods, and his heart was not fully devoted to the Lord his God, as the heart of David, his father, had been.

 

1 Kings 11:6 So Solomon did evil in the eyes of the Lord; he did not follow the Lord completely, as David his father had done.

 

These verse shows us that he knew that this could happen. He was told not to intermarry, but Solomon's lust became his downfall. He allowed his foreign wives to turn his heart, and he couldn’t be devoted to God any longer because he had given his time to their gods. He couldn’t be what his father was or what he was at one time because he had too much love for the other women and did evil in the sight of the lord. He did not follow the lord. Ultimately, he couldn’t. This shows we can’t serve two masters; the word tells us that, too. 

  Matthew 6:24 No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.

      When we fall into sin, we forget about the goodness of God. We forget what he gave and has done for us because we are to focus on the here and now, what has God done for you, what he has done that you can remember; just like the Israelites, we forget because it is easy to do that than to follow God and hear him when he speaks. 

  Deuteronomy 6:15 for the Lord your God, who is among you, is a jealous God and his anger will burn against you, and he will destroy you from the face of the land.

     God is such a jealous God. He doesn’t want our time shared with anyone, and he doesn’t most certainly want us to find love with other things. As we grow in God, we realize he wants us to be devoted to him, and sometimes we might find it hard to be devoted to him, but as we stand on his word and we communicate and build a relationship with him, we start to grow more into Him, and we start to be more dedicated to being around him more, we start to be devoted to God. 

   James 4:4 You adulteresses, do you not know that friendship with the world is hostility toward God? Therefore, whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God

        This verse is telling us we can’t be friends with the world and with God; it creates hostility towards God, and we become an enemy of God as well; we don’t ever want to be an enemy of God; a lot of us don’t understand how great of a weight this place on our friendship with God. We must understand that having friendships or relations with someone who’s of the world can cause you to turn away from God. Look at King Solomon; he let his lust blind him; don’t allow friendship to blind you. 

   *** Today, we learned about how having relations or friendship with the world can cause us to leave God or cause us not to be so devoted to God; it’s so easy to do, to try to have a connection with someone who’s in the world can ultimately cause us to lose or connection with God. Just like King Solomon got his warning, so have we; there’s no way around it; no matter how much you try, one will falter. 

  1 John 2:15-16 Do not love the world nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.

    We can’t love the things of the world and love God; we must choose; the word is telling us that if we love the world, we don’t love God because the things in this world can only lead us away from God , this world only wants to satisfy their flesh and do things here for the here and now. Still, the things here will fade away and won’t last forever. God wants us to be devoted to him and nothing else. If you feel you have allowed the things in this world to steer you away, ask God to help you return to him, and he will help you, but you must first let go of the world. ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father, we thank you for being our shepherd and being our guided lord; we want to let go of the things of this world; please show us how lord gives us strength to be dedicated to you and you alone; lord, we give you our mind body and soul we ask you to forgive us if we have been devoted to things in this world and not you. Lord, every day we want to live a holy life, and we are so grateful for what you have done in our life, in Jesus' Name, Amen 

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REFERENCES 

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+ Luke 16:9 And I say to you, make friends for yourselves by means of the wealth of unrighteousness, so that when it fails, they will receive you into the eternal dwellings.

 

+ Galatians 1:10 For am I now seeking the favor of men, or of God? Or am I striving to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a bond-servant of Christ.

 

+ Joshua 24:19-20 Then Joshua said to the people, “You will not be able to serve the Lord, for He is a holy God. He is a jealous God; He will not forgive your transgression or your sins

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FURTHER READINGS 

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Proverbs 2

Luke 10

1 Corinthians 9 

Malachi 1 

Ezekiel 33

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[jayladfanpage]

Hi! Tq for the help. Sort of fanon-just-getting-into-canon writer here. I've read Barr's Detective Comics Run + Starlin's run for Robin Jason and UTRH + Lost Days + Countdown to final crisis for RH Jason. Going to be reading more but this is where I am at.

I just wanted to know, how would you approach a story where Robin Jason and RH Jason meet? What are the considerations from canon someone should take writing it? They're complicated, both of them. I don't think RH Jason even likes it all that much but morso deems it as 'necessary' and has made himself a moral casualty.

I'd be happy to have another viewpoint on this! But basically although Jason was an angry teenager, rightfully so, about the unfairness towards victims and the justice system itself being rigged against poor people (the whole diplomat's son fiasco and even adtif discussing immunity) I think he was the type to still view his bleeding empathy and compassion as righteous. I think he'd be vv put off by murder? Atleast the extent to which RH Jason is doing it?

Trauma changes people and grief is such a heavy driving force and I'd want to explore it but I feel iffy on many aspects.

How does RH Jason see himself? Does he see that love and open heart as weakness? It's a mess ;-; I feel my RH Jason characterisation isn't hitting at all. Does he have a moral compass (I don't think so???) Plus for all his love, he's also an asshole (imp information to me). Plus I just don't think Jason as a whole is suitable FOR vigilantism. It's an absolute mess. So if you have any input lmk! Tq.

— ヾ⁠(⁠*⁠’⁠Ｏ⁠’⁠*⁠)⁠/

OMG I LOVE LOVE LOVE TIME TRAVEL AUs!!!

I think a key part here is to not ignore Robin!Jason's anger. He was, generally, kinder and sweeter than Red Hood Jason is, but he was still angry and plagued by violent instincts. You can play this up, have Robin realize that if he continues on this cycle that he doesn't know how to break, he'll become Red Hood. He'll become apathetic to victims and grow hypocritial and, most importantly, alone. Jason, especially as Robin, is desperate for connection and affection. He would genuinely recoil at the idea of having no one that loves him -- it is, after all, what drives Red Hood to demand Bruce kill the Joker.

I do, yes, believe Robin Jason would be put off by the rampant murders. Not that Red Hood kills, I think after Felipe Garzonas he could realistically see himself becoming a killer even if you don't believe Jaybin pushed Felipe off, but he would be upset about the sheer extent of it.*

*You can tie in some of the Batman mythos here. Jaybin fully, throughly believes in Bruce's mission, fully believes that Batman is capable of saving Gotham. To see or know that Red Hood murders people would imply to him that he loses faith in Batman. It would break his illusion that Bruce is all-knowing and all-powerful, and that's GREAT angst potential.

Red Hood Jason believes himself to be right. Judd Winnick said on an interview something that's stuck with me-- Jason does not see himself as a crimelord. He does not see himself as a mass murderer or a villain. He believes himself to be a better Batman. Jason has full faith in his methods and his aggression, and he would not take kindly to anyone (especially a past version of himself) who told him he's wrong.

He does NOT view love and an open heart as a weakness. Red Hood is perhaps even more open with his emotions than Robin has ever been. He's loud about his feelings and he demands people listen to him, forces them to understand and sympathise with him. It hardly ever works, but he does try.

Lastly, Jason actually has a very strong moral compass, he's just wrong. He's headstrong and stubborn and sure of himself. He believes that his murders will change the world, he believes he's a good person. He thinks taking control of crime is the only way to truly stop it. He thinks if you're a horrible enough person then you're no longer a victim, you're a casualty.

None of that applies to himself, of course. He thinks he's good, and kind, and understands politics like nobody else does. He thinks he's saving people when he tells them to join him -- see Green Arrow (2001) #69-72 with Mia.

Hopefully this helps!! Don't be afraid to reach out again if you need anything else, and may the inspiration gods bless you!!<3

[that-one-i-think]

MCD Characters and their Fairy Tail Counterparts

So it is no secret that Aphmau based a lot of her characters on Fairy Tail, and as I mentioned wihile talking with @xerith-42 I think that there are specific characters that do have a genuine counterpart. Some are closer than others due to the nature of being "based" but not exactly like a character and other characters don't have a counterpart as they are just tropes.

Aphmau - Lucy Heartfilia - The main character of Fairy Tail and as bubbly and strong willed as MCD Aphmau.

Garroth - Laxus Dreyar - Strong family values who at one point ends up betraying his (found) family to do what he believes is right. Ultimately betraying their trust which he regains through battling his family. (I can go more into it, because damn is is so close)

Katelyn - Erza Scarlett - An armored badass who presents as tough but can be quick to being controlled by emotion. Is by far the toughest character and will never back down.

Laurance - Loke/Leo the Lion - He is a massive flirt is extremely self sacrificing and will do anything for the main character. Full of genuine love but has a bit of a self-righteous anger streak.

Aaron - Various but Gray Fullbuster - Another self sacrificing person but with a bit more of a nudist streak. Trouble with handling emotions and a tendencey to shut people out with an incredibly traumatizing and difficult past. Also a harborer of dark magic. (Aaron actually cosplays this character in MyStreet)

Emmalyn - Levy McGarden -The classic bookworm character who is incredibly important for lore research. One of the main characters closet companions as well.

Travis - Marijane - Hear me out. They are both characters with demonic powers and a demon form that they kept trapped and in control for fear of hurting others. I also believe that Travis is based on Raven from Teen Titans, as the story is very similar, but that is for a different post.

Nana - Miliana - Cat people with special magic and a fondness for the maid aesthetic.

Beyond this, it gets very stretchy so I am gonna leave it here but an argument could be made for so many characters.