#I realized I never shared this on here and that is a grave injustice

[alltimefail]

In my humble opinion, the healing powers of being stupid as hell are not to be underestimated.

This might be my magnum opus. I love this little "Unapologetically queer" show with all my heart and I want it back on my screen PRONTO.

Enjoy! 😂

[rivendellsstuff]

𝐂𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

𝐂𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | ❝Slowly, she was collapsed and sheathed inside his heart — and that was the beginning and the end of everything for Levi Ackerman.❞

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2590;

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: Mentions of canon-typical violence. Inspired by Arwen Undómiel's speech in “The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of The Ring'' and the song ''Can’t help falling in love'' by Elvis.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hi! English is not my native language, so if you spot a misspelled word or anything else, feel free to let me know. I plan to look for someone to help me with proofreading because I feel like I leave a lot behind. I hope I can find help to continue publishing these short stories!

────── ▎Levi Ackerman still remembers the feeling when he realized that he loved her.

He knew, he simply knew, that nothing would ever be the same again. This love came suddenly, without warning, and was born inside him in silence, destroying all the countless walls he had built over the years.

The rational and critical part of his brain is always trying to convince him to drown that feeling because nothing good can result from love in those days. So, for a long time, Levi tried to act as if it didn't hurt — how bad hiding what he felt hurt his mind. The fact was: he always lost the people he loved. The fear of losing another person, of seeing them turn into a memory, never terrified him as much as it did now. He didn't want to lose her too.

So, he wonders what the hell he should do. Over the past few months, Levi has always kept her back and that was the nature of their relationship. Levi's understanding of her had always been instinctive, based on a single fact: they were perfect opposites and, in a way, perfect counterweights. But then, he looked at her in a million different ways and loved her in each of them — as a soldier, as a partner, as a friend, as a lover.

Suddenly, humanity's strongest soldier, the one who had brought down countless titans and people who performed evil deeds beyond human comprehension, was unarmed and vulnerable. Slowly, she was collapsed and sheathed inside his heart — and that was the beginning and the end of everything for Levi Ackerman.

The first time Levi Ackerman realized how much he loved her occurred the night before the operation to retake Wall Maria. It was evening, and it was raining - a fine, murmuring autumnal drizzle. The weather was comfortable. Not so hot and not so cold, but just right. Even so, Levi Ackerman was not feeling well. His body was begging for rest and his mind for comfort, but he could not afford to lie down like everyone else. In the stillness, his thoughts were constantly interrupted by the image of the soldiers and friends he had lost over the years, thrown to the ground and covered in his own blood, and this made Levi feel dizzy and sick.

His shoulders were down, his head hung down, and his body was slightly bent over the documents on his desk. Beside him was a long-empty cup of tea. It was the shadow of the great Levi Ackerman. It was simpler than humanity's strongest soldier, but at the same time it was empty and incomplete. Ironic. He had always boasted of being cool, of not caring about trivialities, and of keeping himself intact as a captain, and now he was nothing but a decaying shadow of the infamous Levi Ackerman.

And so, the first few hours of that night passed. So much was happening all at once. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to clear his mind and stand firm, as he always should.

He sighed. Levi left the pile of documents meticulously organized on the table, picked up the empty cup, and stood up. His eyes grew accustomed easily to the darkness, the only sound was of an old clock at the end of the hall and his footsteps on the old linoleum floor.

「flashback」

Levi liked to think he lived long enough to understand that one can never escape his true nature. Such is Historia's destiny, and she is finally crowned as Queen before a large and enthusiastic crowd. The people remember seeing the Queen protect them from a Titan and admire her for standing up to her father.

A smart move, Levi thought.

Standing next to Erwin and Hange, he thinks of his mother. Of Isabel, who cannot be the heroine she was meant to be. He thinks of Furlan and his resilience. He thinks of all the people he has lost over the years, especially those who failed to become what they were meant to be.

''Hey'', Mikasa's voice was low, but it was enough to get the captain's attention.

Up to that point, Levi had not greeted any of his squadron members, although he knew that many were with unasked questions hanging on their tongues. Political issues occupied most of his time. The words were not spoken, but duly were there, at some point; all praise and words of gratitude for his team.

And Levi looked at her, grave tenderness in his eyes turned to Mikasa, and yet, even if she had not been raised among men of war, she was someone many could not overcome in battle. She approached the girl with hair as black as raven wings and whispered something in her ear, to which Mikasa thanked her with a small smile. In those days, it was rare to see anyone smile.

Her dress, which was a deep green with white flower embroidery and golden arabesques on the sleeves, shimmered in the faint wind that afternoon. Levi thinks that she looks so beautiful with the sunlight in her hair.

He interrupts his thought suddenly, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

And, as if sensing that she is being watched, she raises her eyes from Mikasa to the captain. He thinks that she is going to raise one of her eyebrows or simply keep the conversation with Mikasa. But then she did something that surprised him even more. She smiled. At him.

He feels his cheeks burn.

''You are staring, shorty'', said Hange, amused, following his gaze.

''Tch, shut up.''

It was just a smile, but Levi couldn't forget it for the rest of the ceremony.

He thought that the true beauty of the place belonged to her.

「 flashback's end」

Damn, he thinks. That smile.

The smell of tea berries and wet earth overwhelm him. Outside, the rain was falling hard as he brewed another cup of tea. He sipped the warm, clear liquid, allowing the noise made by his lips as he sucked the drink to ring out loud. He smiled, amazed that she didn't like the drink. This was the first more human demonstration he had had in a long, long time.

It was during a sleepless night like that, months ago, when they could finally be in each other's presence, just them. It was... easy to talk. Maybe it was because of the tea, the sound of her laughter, or none of those two things. Maybe just her and her way of looking beyond him as nothing but.... Levi. Just Levi.

Levi grew up poor and alone in a place where he was taught to hate every bit of it with a burning passion, he understands a thing or two about injustice and hate even before Kenny decides to teach him how to fight. He loved his mother with every fiber of his being. He loved his friends. When they died, Levi felt like he was dying with them; but that feeling? It was a different kind of love. He had never loved anything, or anyone like her.

Get out of my head, woman.

He took a deep breath and decided to put those thoughts aside once again. After finishing the tea, he put the cup away and headed back to his room.

He stopped himself momentarily when he noticed the door ajar on his right.

And there she was, dressed in a silver and blue dress, in a polished wooden chair by the window, whose light westerly wind blew through and made her hair flutter. To him, it seemed that starlight was in her eyes.

Levi was silent for a second and then sighed. There was nothing to be said now that they were there, preparing to reclaim the lost lands and waiting for answers.

But when she let out a deep sigh of pain, he slammed his knuckles against the door. She raised her eyes to him, feeling her throat go dry, and immediately leaned back, pulling her eyebrows together in confusion.

''Captain,'' she said, but signs of weariness and pain could not be hidden in her gently voice.

"Are you hurt?" asked the superior, taking her by surprise.

"Except for a few bruises, I'm fine'', She said, gesturing for him to come in. "Can't sleep?"

Levi studied her from top to bottom, paying attention to her body language and any sign of injury. There were two scars on her hands. She tried to cover them with the sleeve of her dress.

''I rarely get any sleep, so the person who should be asking this question is me,'' he said, and although he was glad to see her, worry ran through his chest.

She smiled.

"Fair enough''

Frustration tightened his voice a bit, but she thought it was incredibly appealing when he said: ''You never respond the way people expect you to.''

Levi approached and stopped beside the window. The beautiful weather and the calm seemed a mere mockery to the men before the most dreadful mission of their lives.

"I'm sorry," she says sincerely. ''Just a stupid accident during training...and I can't sleep,'' she admitted. ''Nightmares. They've been recurring since we faced the female titan. I think my brain is malfunctioning.''

''It's ok you have hard times.''

She took a deep breath and then inhaled slowly. It had been a long time since they had shared moments like that; and she had always loved his company infinitely, even though she had never shown it in words.

The thoughts began to surge like a burst of fireworks, making loud noises, disappearing and reappearing. Instinctively, she pressed one hand against the other, but the twinge of pain almost made her curse. He didn't miss that.

''You should bandage this to prevent an infection'' he says.

She let her hands slide to the sides of her body.

''Yeah, you're probably right.''

"Do you have any medical kits around here?''

Her expression wavers for a while, as if she is thinking about it. Then she turns and opens one of the bags left beside the bed. Levi has approached her as she begins to rummage through the material.

''Here, let me do that,'' he said.

「flashback」

The horses pranced and neighed, startled, when a group of titans was spotted. The maneuvering equipment tinkled as the wires were released. The sight of those creatures was terrifying, but the battlefield had already become a part of their lives, and Survey Corps was willing to fight.

Above, a sunless sky, muffled by heavy clouds. Levi could hear roars and screams all around, the sharp, distinctive thud of the clash of blades against the back of the titans' heads. There were bloodied bodies, some without limbs and with pieces strewn across the surrounding ground.

Then, time seemed to freeze.

The titan's giant hand withdrew and a terrible howl resound across the battlefield.

The titan screamed again, but the fury of the guttural howl was nothing compared to what the captain felt as he investigated the still face of (Y/N). For the hundredth of a second it took his mind to assimilate the events, Levi was struck by horror. He stood motionless; he simply found himself gripping the blades and looking at her. Suddenly, his muscles were contracted by the urgency, the will, the urge to hurt him. This wild need, echoing in his ears like a broken record, obscured his mind.

With an immense bang, several blows struck the titan.

As the creature felt motionless to the ground, Levi ran to it, whose face was as white as a lobelia and as cold as frost.

He didn't know how deeply he was entwined with her until they tried to take her away from him

「 flashback's end」

Levi listened attentively to everything she said, as she was also attentive to the gentle, careful way in which he touched her.

''I hope you won't use this to bribe me, Ackerman.''

He rolls his eyes.

''Maybe I'll take Sasha's food and say it was you.''

''That's the biggest threat I've ever heard in my entire life,'' she says eventually.

A strange flutter in his stomach threatened a smile on his face.

"Maybe it makes you let to be a brat"

She takes a long breath.

"I'll let her kill me and then you'll be sorry"

"Don't be so dramatic", he says. "By the way, I'll never let anyone hurt you as long I live."

She is speechless. Her heart starts to beat faster than she thought it could, and all her body was filled with a so good feel. She couldn't explain exactly what is, but there was anyway.

Levi doesn't look at her face again. And then, the silence was back once again.

It was a difficult operation for the Captain; he touches her skin, heard her voice so close and quietly to him.

"It's done", Levi says.

She follows his eyes and saw her own hands. He still was holding them.

"I appreciate that."

He looks at her.

You're so fucking beautiful.

Levi runs his thumb over her fingers tenderly.

A crow screams at the top of its lungs in the distance, and she almost cringes. Levi ignores him and, longing for her starry eyes again, brings her hand to his lips and places a soft kiss on his skin.

"Are you afraid?" she whispers. Levi could feel the goosebumps that her touch gave him. ''Sometimes, I feel as if we are going to discover something eviler than the titans themselves.''

The wind blows angrily, making her hair fly.

''There are few things that make me afraid. This is not one of them.''

Losing you is, he thinks.

Inside his chest, the sound of his racing heartbeat is loud enough for him to hear. His heart pulses melodiously, pumping blood and sending some to his cheeks.

"Besides, this must be the first time I've heard you say you're afraid," he says, braiding invisible lines on the back of his hands. "Maybe you're sick. Let's examine it before it devours your brain entirely.

"I can't tell if you're joking or not."

He laughs lightly, and she thinks how nice it is when he does that. Levi's face is always so stern, so cold when they are around others. It's like it's a secret that only she knows.

Suddenly, Levi thinks about what it would feel like to kiss her.

"You should try to rest now", he whispers, looking away.

He starts to walk to the door.

It was in this exact moment he wished to have been able to tell her all those things in his mind.

"Wait!"

He turns back to her.

"What is?"

While Levi said, she holds his cheeks with her palms.

"Stay", she whispers. "Just a little longer"

Levi feels his heart beating faster than he thought it could, and all of his body was filled with that desire again.

Their lips touch in a chaste and last kiss for barely a second.

Levi holds her hands close to his heart. His tongue traces her bottom lips, brushes against the edge of her teeth before mingling with hers. It was kind, as it could say all those things on his heart.

When their lips step back, he says: "For as long as you wish"

[anonthenullifier]

Fic request for touristy Maximoff family? (bc Vision's 'drunk' awkwardness in Wandavision ep 2 where he apologised to a handrail, is something that I as a Brit intensely and deeply relate to, and it reminded me of them hiding out in the UK in IW which also made me v emotional- they deserved better!)

Thanks for the ask! They really did deserve better and hopefully might get some happiness at some point. I hope you enjoy their family day trip!

***

“Where are the witches?”

Vision folds the map into a square and slides it back into his fanny pack, nonchalance embedded in the action  “Oh, there are no witches.”

This isn’t what Billy wants to hear, “You said this is Witch House.”

“I did, yes.”

The conversation circles back around, “Then where are the witches?”

“Well technically there were never any true witches here in the first place.” Billy stares at Vision, betrayal drooping his mouth down into a deep and unforgiving frown. A history lesson isn’t going to save the moment, and yet her husband tries, determined to share the two weeks worth of research he’s conducted since they decided on the trip. “It is called Witch House because it was owned by Judge Jonathon Corwin who presided over some of the witch trials. Now, though some like to say witchcraft was rampant at the time, it in fact was -”

“But I wanted witches.” This is true, it was Billy’s only request—spooky witches to be precise. “You said there’d be witches.”

Tommy isn’t fully invested in the trip, having voted to go to an amusement park for their fall get-away, but he never passes up an opportunity to pile onto a complaint. “Yeah, where are the witches, dad?”

“Salem has far greater historical value than just the witch trials.” Not a smart tactic, which Vision realizes as soon as he says it, face scrunching up at the misstep while the gears in his eyes rotate furiously to the left signifying he’s attempting to figure out how to regain their confidence. “Um, from my understanding there may be some modern day witches in the village who provide tours and demonstrations. We can stop by once we have seen everything.”

This earns some consideration from their ten year olds. “Real witches or like herbal tea witches?”

Tommy piggybacks on his brother’s question, “Will they turn Billy into a frog?”

“No one is being transformed into an amphibian,” Vision reassures them.

“Lame.” Only a half hour in and the L word is out in the open, a new record for the Maximoffs.

Wanda rolls her eyes at the rebuttal and studies the building in front of them, a foreboding tiered facade with black wood trim that would fit right into a horror movie. Briefly she wonders if it was always black or if that was added to enhance the supernatural identity the town developed once they realized the tourism potential of their sordid past. If ominousness is what sells here, she knows how to reclaim their trip. “Vizh,” her husband meets her gaze,the exasperation of parenthood making him seem particularly desperate for her thoughts, “There was at least one witch you can tell them about.” Confusion crinkles his brow, “Agatha.”

Realization dawns, as if he had blocked out all memories of dear old Agatha. “Ah yes Agatha Harkness.” The name falters on his lips, uncertainty making residence in his body with the wringing of his hands.  “I am not sure they are old enough to hear about-“

“You owe us a witch, dad.” Tommy is very dedicated now, a grave frown on his face and an arm wrapped tenderly around his twin’s shoulders. “Billy deserves a witch.”

Vision folds, shoulders inching down in submission of their desires. “Agatha Harkness,” it is not that they have had bad experiences, per se, with Agatha, but she always intersects with their lives at moments of both wonderful highs and crippling lows, which is why Vision seems to weigh her name so heavily. “You will not see the name Agatha Harkness in any of the books about Salem.” Wanda can feel Vision mentally shut the books of information he’d acquired for the day. “She was a witch, a real one and very powerful as well as very old.”

“How old?” Billy’s eyes are shining at the change in tone for the trip. “Like ancient?”

“Positively ancient.” An enormous grin erupts on Billy’s face, while Tommy stands unusually rapt. “There are accounts of her presence all the way back to 10,500 BC, there are even rumors she was involved in the lost city of Atl-”

A cloyingly sweet and chipper “Excuse me,” breaks the story and the atmosphere. The voice belongs to a short, blonde haired woman in a puffy vest and flannel shirt, “I couldn’t help but overhear your tour and was hoping we could join.” The we is a man a few years older than the woman, his gray mustache thick enough to hide whatever his feelings are about the request.

Vision’s lips part and then close a few times, hand half raised as he processes the intrusion. “Oh um, this is a uh private tour,” a nervous, placating smile tries to shoo away the couple. It doesn’t work, neither does his, “Terribly sorry for the confusion.”

Typically on their trips people come up to them because they are Avengers, but Wanda doesn’t detect the same motivation from the couple, neither seeming to actually recognize them. The husband appears a bit concerned about Vision’s appearance while the wife assumes it is for show, “Oh well, you just seem dressed the part, you little devil,” Wanda tries not to laugh, something Tommy fails at, chuckling at the way the comment wilts his father further. Whoever this woman is ignores the reaction, soldiering on ahead as if it is her job to get what she wants. “And you are giving this beautiful family such a lovely tour. We’d love to join in.”

Vision weighs his response, eyes first surveying the very clearly matching sweatshirts they are wearing, this year’s travel theme the Maximoff Bunch. Each of them has a navy sweatshirt with Cambria font declaring their role-- Vision’s sweatshirt (that is real clothing, not molecularly manipulated so that he has a keepsake from their trip) is emblazoned with Papa-ya, their less than thrilled 10 year olds are sporting ones labeled Bil(ly)berry and Tommy-rillo, and Wanda’s deviates a bit with Mom-osa, Vision crushed to not find a fruit close enough to mom to complete the bunch. This should be enough to convince this woman that they are all a family and not a tour group...and yet she just keeps smiling sweetly at Vision until he gives in. “We’re happy to pay.”

Now Vision turns towards Wanda, searching for a response or a rescue. She doesn’t get a chance to help, Tommy speaking up first, “Fifty a person fair?”  

“Thomas I do not-”

“Completely fair.”

The glare from Vision assures their son that they are going to talk about this on the ride home, Tommy’s impulsivity almost always at odds with Vision’s desire for control and planning.

Vision turns towards the couple, hands clasped tightly in a sign that another apology is on it’s way but it is stopped by Billy recentering their attention to what is most important. “How can Agatha be so old?”

Faced with numerous smiling and eager faces, Vision seems to accept his newfound role with a deep, soundless sigh, “Well, she is a very powerful witch, one who even survived the Salem Witch Trials.”

“No way!”

“Very much so. Let us return to 10,500 BC first.” Now that he is free to regale them with history, albeit seasoned with a heaping amount of occult, Vision finds his element. They learn about how Agatha came to be in Salem, about the Witch House and the judge who dwelled there, of the frenzy that occurred in people pointing fingers at anyone who was suspicious or merely disliked. The boys are enraptured listening to the tales of injustice and prejudice and, as they move from the Witch House to the hill on which many witches were burned at the stake, their little tour group increases in size, a trail of eight people joining on.

Surprisingly her husband takes it all in stride, welcoming each new person and asking their name. What really seems to excite Vision is when their crew asks questions. One of the newbies stops him during his soliloquy on what behaviors were deemed witchy. “Is it true that witches danced naked?”

Vision’s charm is on full display, lips cocked to the side as he shakes his head at the idiocy of the past, “Merely a salacious rumor because titillation is more convincing than honesty.”

A voice from the back of the group declares, “That’s because history is written by lonely men.”

Without missing a beat, her husband nods appreciatively at the running commentary from this particular guest, “A very astute observation, Taiyah, yet again. Now let’s turn our attention back to the Court of Oyer and Terminer.”

As the tour keeps moving through the harrowed landmarks, Billy is at the front, always just to the side of Vision, soaking in every word of information. Tommy, on the other hand, oscillates between the front and the back, eventually deciding to stick with Wanda. “This is starting to get a bit lame.”

“Your father and brother are having fun.”

His annoyed sigh seeks companionship, which she won’t give because she’s enjoying herself as well. “It’s just so much talking.” It is more than Tommy is ever willing to listen to, his mind and body always seconds, if not hours, ahead of them all. “Where’s the excitement?”

Sweeping the environment is a key aspect of missions and right now Wanda has assessed that the majority of the group are crowded around a tree, listening to the story of how Agatha supported parts of the trials out of a need to cull the weaker witches and remove her competition, it is a dark aspect of the tour, barely a sound existing to interfere with Vision’s explanation of the witch’s intentions. “Watch this.” Tommy stares at Wanda as she lifts her hand, scarlet undulating around her fingers, and then she flicks a finger, the tree trembling mightily despite no breeze to speak of. Several people gasp, one woman screams, and instantly Vision locks eyes with her, not one to ever be deceived by her influence. She expects irritation at disrupting his story, but instead there’s a little spark of mischief in his swirling irises, an almost imperceptible uptick to the left corner of his mouth that takes all her energy not to go and enjoy.

“Don’t you all tell us not to do that?” Tommy’s voice is bated, eager to figure out if their limits on use of powers in public is about to be lessened.

“No one goes on a witch tour without hoping for a little bit of magic.” The shit eating grin on his face is almost a perfect replica of Pietro’s and one she can’t help but mirror. “Just watch and learn.”

***

By the time they reach the Witch Village, the agreed upon conclusion of their tour, Vision can’t get a word in edgewise, the entire group riled up, swapping observations of the branches that moved without wind, the sense of dread that engulfed their minds at the guilty verdict of Agatha, or the heat they felt when the pyre was verbally lit. It’s this sense of awe that makes not a single person listen to Vision’s insistent, “Sorry, please, I do not want your money. Please, keep it for yourselves.” Instead of listening to him, everyone shoves their payment into the cup that Tommy so helpfully procured from the concession stand nearby.

Once all the people are gone, it is just the Maximoffs once again.  “Was that sufficient in witches?”

Billy’s enthusiastic nods sends his hair bobbing with glee. “So awesome.”

“I have a question,” this comes from Tommy, who has already bought an ice cream cone with their earnings, the swirl of chocolate and vanilla towering up from his fist, “would we have been considered witches back then?”

“Well,” Vision’s arm snakes around her waist, pulling her until their hips are touching, the pride in his voice wrapping her even more snugly with his affection, “your mother already is a stunning one.”

“Gross.”

“And I no doubt would be viewed as inherently supernatural and thus evil,” something that is said with levity instead of the usual depths of despair that accompanies Vision’s grapple with humanity. “The two of you would also be suspect, simply from your parentage but also, well-”

“So the answer is yes?”  Vision concedes with a nod. “Great, wanna go take a picture in the arm thingies over there?” They follow the ice cream cone as it points them towards a small square where people are taking turns putting their heads and hands through the holes.

“That would be a pillory,” Vision helpfully defines, but neither of their sons are listening, having already taken off to join the line for the photo op.

Wanda takes their brief solitude to encircle his waist with her arm, squeezing him tight and kissing his shoulder. “You have fun?”

His arm moves to rest along her shoulders, “Surprisingly yes, it was a bit exhilarating to have a truly captive audience.”

Wanda hugs him tighter, “Good.” Billy and Tommy wave them over, only ten people now ahead of them in line. They look so carefree, jostling each other with whatever it is they are bickering about now, their happiness with the day unashamedly stitched into every movement. Given who they are, Wanda is glad they are alive now and not during a time of greater hatred. Which brings her mind back to the woman who made the tripa success. “Vizh?”

“Hmm?”

“When do you think we should let them meet Agatha?”

They stop, Vision sometimes unable to think and walk at the same time, and the toil in his mind is palpable even without her powers. “I believe,” he too takes in their sons, a fluttering smile on his lips the longer he stares, “it might be best she remains a story for a little bit longer.”

[wygolvillage]

have you ever wanted to read a rewrite of the plot of castlevania: lament of innocence that replaced leon with sonia (bc lets face it she deserves better), doesnt overuse the dead wife trope, and has LESBIANS IN IT??? NO??? well too bad here it is

fair warning it might be a bit cringe? im hardly a writer lmao

Sonia Belmont was a peasant girl of insignificant origin, however, she found herself at conflict with a nobleman after her dear friend Sara Trantoul was arranged for a marriage with Count Mathias Cronqvist, who lived not far from her village in a remote castle that few dared to visit. Sara, however, did not wish to marry into nobility, let alone marry a man, and Sonia helped her make an escape to another town.

Mathias was furious with jealousy and rage, and pursued Sonia. They did battle, and Sonia was the victor: Count Mathias Cronqvist was dead. However, having killed a man of significant power and renown, Sonia was now wanted for murder, and she opted to hide her identity so as to not arouse suspicion. She tried to convince Sara to leave her side, out of fear that they may be found due to her previous connection to the Count, however Sara refused out of love for Sonia.

Sonia became a vigilante knight, trying to do battle against injustices in the world in whatever way she could. She often would have to take trips across the countryside to pursue those she thought wrongdoers, often other men in positions of authority like the detestable Count who had targeted her dear Sara.

In 1094 she received a letter informing her of a man named Walter Bernhardt who had been kidnapping townsfolk, however when she arrived at his palace she found it empty. In fact, the letter had been a trap, and when she returned to her home she found Sara gone- with signs of a struggle. When she asked around the town where Sara had been taken, all the answers pointed to the dilapidated castle near the village where she and Sara had grown up.

The Count was dead, of course... There was no way he could be behind this. Still, she followed this guidance, and found that the area around the castle was covered in thick trees and darkness, and her hometown was no more, enveloped by a forest of eternal night. Curiously, the castle was no longer in the crumbling state it had been left in, but instead looked as if it had been built the previous day. One man remained in a shop in the forest, someone who Sonia had known years ago before she had killed Mathias: Rinaldo Gandolfi. He recognizes her, and tells her to stay away from such an awful place, and that his whole family was slaughtered by the vampire that lived there. She refuses, stating her intentions to rescue Sara, and Rinaldo acquiesces. However, he does let her know that should she need any goods for her quest, he will provide them. He gives her a whip said to be able to kill vampires.

Rinaldo explains that he spotted the vampire with a large crystal that was the source of the darkness, and that as an alchemist he theorized it was connected to legends of a Crimson Stone that can impart great power to one who pursues a path of evil, and to be wary. He also stated that the crystal was what had restored the castle to its current state.

Sonia enters the castle and finds it infested with horrible monsters. She fights through the mindless horde, but after facing a first boss, a mysterious red headed vampire appears in the room and identifies himself as Walter Bernhardt. He taunts her a bit with an unwinnable boss fight, says she’ll never find Sara and teleports away.

Sonia pursues Walter through the castle’s various areas such as the House of Sacred Remains and Anti-Soul Mysteries Lab, but is ultimately unfruitful in her search, often being led through the mazes only to find traps with terrifying monsters laying in wait. At one point she tries to confront Walter and he drops her into a pit containing the Forgotten One, and has to fight her way out.

Eventually, after completing the castle’s areas, she finds Sara, but finds that she’s too late, and that Sara has been turned into a vampire. Sara laments her fate, terrified that she’s lost her humanity. Sonia escorts her out of the castle to be cared for by Rinaldo, horrified at what Walter has done and furious at him.

She storms through the castle once more, heading for the Throne Room to confront Walter. However, when she defeats him, he reveals that it was not him who turned Sara- it was his master who had orchestrated the whole thing. Walter dies of his wounds soon after, and Sonia wonders who Walter’s master was- though she does not have to wonder for long.

Mathias Cronqvist, revived from the grave as a vampire by the pure evil in his heart, then reveals himself.

“Sonia,” he begins. “I want you to understand that you took everything from me. My life, and the only woman I thought was worthy of my grace.”

“You’re a monster,” Sonia spits in his face. “You stole much more from her than I ever stole from you.”

“I loved her, Sonia, just as you do. Now she and I can be together forevermore, and you will be punished for your sins.”

“How can you claim to love her?! You’ve never loved, and you never will! True love does not drive people to hurt!” Sonia then attacks him.

The ensuing fight is a near-equal match, and Sonia eventually prevails, but is grievously wounded. Just as she thinks it’s over, Mathias pulls out a large red orb from the wall behind the throne, one that Sonia now realizes is the Crimson Orb Rinaldo spoke of. The roof of the castle opens, and the full moon shines upon the glistening orb in his hands. As he does this, the castle begins to crack apart as the crystal had been removed.

“The blood spilt in the village you called home, and the despair all around us... This shall give me strength! Even Death will be at my command!” He announces to the sky, and the orb begins to emit a horrible red light. “After all... the Dark Lord is given power by the negativity in the hearts of mankind. All that fury and hatred for me will only be your downfall.”

He is then transformed into the ultimate force of all evil, the Dark Lord. He takes on the name Count Dracula, abandoning his former humanity.

Sonia cannot hope to win, but she fights on in exhaustion in the midst of the crumbing castle. Dracula laughs as she collapses. Sonia spits out blood, and in her assumed dying moments as Dracula approaches, she curses his name and tells him, in an oddly prophetic way, that one day he shall experience true loss, his children shall turn against him, and her descendants will cheer on his downfall.

Dracula is enraged by her words, and is about to deal the final blow before Sara jumps in front of her. Sara tells Dracula to let her live, or else kill her as well.

Out of perceived "love" for Sara, Dracula lets the two women go, and Sara carries Sonia to safety as the castle falls to eternal ruin. The fog of eternal darkness recedes from the forest and the sun rises as they meet up with Rinaldo.

Sara retreats into the shadows to avoid the sun's rays, but Sonia follows, telling her that no matter what she will go wherever she leads her.

"But I am inhuman. I am a monster, just as Walter and Dracula were." Sara avoids her gaze.

"To be inhuman is to reject love and kindness and to seek evil ends. Dracula made that choice himself... And you have chosen to save me." Sonia embraces her tightly.

"You love me, despite my newfound home in the night..."

"If the night is your home, so it is mine. The Belmont family shall henceforth walk the path of shadows in pursuit of the Dark Lord... and we will hunt the night for eternity."

And then the credits roll yaaaay

After the credits it is stated that Sonia has had a child, and though that child shares the cursed fate of a Belmont and a bloodsoaked lineage of a vampire, that child will one day be hailed as a hero.

The End :)

[journey-to-balance]

[VI]

Fighting Hate Only Increases Its Power over Us: Balancing our Desire to Live in a Peaceful World with The Chaos That Constantly Bombards Us.

On a daily basis, we hear from a variety of sources that our world is turned upside down, evil exists everywhere, and terrorism is a way of life. People seem determined to kill each other in increasingly violent ways. Radio, television, and online news outlets dispense an endless cascade of man’s inhumanity to man, family members turned against one another, teenagers on killing rampages in their schools, and terror rocking Earth’s consciousness everywhere from train stations to places of worship.

The point I’m making here is that we seem to live in a totally out-of-balance world where our desires for feeling peaceful are challenged by the myriad of nonpeaceful energies that are considered newsworthy. But we do have a choice in this matter. And we can choose to realign ourselves energetically with our desire to live in this world peacefully, regardless of what’s going on around us, and in spite of the nonpeaceful energy we’re so often subjected to.

We can begin by deciding to maintain a tranquil existence within ourselves even when others promote fear, anger, and hatred about this violent planet. After all, a massive collective effort throughout the history of humanity - BY THOSE IN POSITIONS OF AUTHORITY - has taught individuals whom to fear, and even worse, whom to hate. If we’d been alive in America back in the 1750s, we’d have been told that it was our patriotic duty to hate the French as well as the Native Americans. Twenty-five years later, we’d have been told that it was okay to stop hating the French, but that we were obliged to hate the British. Now fast forward 87 years, and if we lived in the South, we’d be told to hate those in the North, and Northerners were likewise required to hate Southerners, even if they were related by blood. And by the way, it was no longer a requirement that we hate the British. 

Now move ahead 34 years, and it wasn’t necessary to hate the Spanish. Twenty years later, it was compulsory to hate the Germans, and in just a few decades the Japanese would be added to our required hate list. By the time it was considered okay to stop hating the Germans and the Japanese, we were led to another target, the Communists, be they in North Korea or North Vietnam several years later.

In other words, there’s always been a collection of people being added to or deleted from the hate inventory. For a long time we were required to hate Russians, then Iranians, Iraqis were okay, but that didn’t last very long. On and on goes this litany of hate! The faces change, but the message remains: We’re told whom to hate, never for a moment recognizing that the enemy we’re supposed to hate isn’t a nationality, a religious or political belief - the enemy is HATRED ITSELF!

In order to live peacefully, to rebalance our lives, we must remove ourselves from all hate lists. Each of us, singly and with all the others, is answerable for creating joy through the way our lives unfold, here and NOW. I suggest that the number one thing we can do to create joy is remove hate from our inner consciousness. Whenever we use forceful language, and hateful responses to resolve our disputes, we instantly create a counterforce. The cycles of war and hatred, create thoughts of revenge, and more hateful thoughts and actions in response. Break the Cycle we MUST. The more we buy into hatred, the more those who sell the messages benefit. We can decide to become an instrument of of peace. We can affirm: I am Divine creation; I choose to stay connected to this Divinity in all of my thoughts and in all of my actions. I am an instrument of peace, and I send peaceful, loving thoughts to those people who seem to need it so desperately. I refuse to collaborate with the energy of hatred anywhere, anytime. 

I am Christian, raised Roman Catholic, but there’s a particular passage from The Holy Koran that truly speaks to me: “Whatever good you have in you is from God, whatever evil, is all from yourself.” 

Choose not to be one of those people who are dragged along. Refuse to be brought to the bidding of any and all powers who attempt to convince us that believing in peace is unpatriotic, that turning against your family is righteous, that discarding a friendship is acceptable, that digging in our heels in order to prove others wrong is commendable or worthy of respect, that shunning our neighbors makes us a valuable member of our community.

Former President Dwight Eisenhower, who was also a commander of the Allies in World War II, once remarked: “Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those we are cold and are not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. This is not a way of life at all in any true sense.”

This is a call to get ourselves and our nation in balance. Peace demands heroic thinking and a purity of consciousness. Choose to become a beacon of light. Whenever you feel the need to post a hateful, bombastic meme on social media meant to insight an emotional response, STOP. Whenever you feel the need to share a dehumanizing article aimed at this or that particular group, DON’T. Whenever you feel the pull to call others expletives, STOP. Whenever you feel the need to gloat, from the point to ego, DON’T. Whenever you want to swear revenge for an injustice, real or imagined, STOP. We must REALIZE that our thoughts are magnets that collectively lower or raise our vibrational pull of abundance in all aspects of our lives and that one way or another all our actions, real or in thought, place us on the path of a shared destiny. 

I am reminded of an ancient Chinese proverb that tell us: “If you choose to pursue hate, you’d better dig two graves.”   

[searchingwardrobes]

I Promise to Kiss You (Before You Die) : 3/7

I apologize for not posting yesterday like I was supposed to. I wasn't feeling well and went to bed early. This chapter has some iconic scenes from Little Women, so I hope that makes up for it! Thanks again to the mods of @captainswanmoviemarathon​ and to @hookedonapirate​ for her beta skills.

Summary: Emma noticed him first, never forget that, and while all four of the Lucas sisters love Killian Jones, no one loves him the way Emma does, of that she is certain. Killian Jones also made her a promise. Sure, she was only twelve when he made it, but one day he’ll realize what it meant. One day, she hopes, he’ll get over her sister Ruby and finally notice Emma. A Little Women AU

Rated: T

Also on Ao3 , updated every Thursday.

Tagging:@snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @vvbooklady1256 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @xsajx​ *If anyone wants to be added or removed from this tag list, please let me know! I think some people asked to be added since I first posted this, but life has been so crazy I am blanking!*

Chapter Three: On Walden Pond

Winter that year was an enchanted one for Killian Jones. The weather, for one, was something out of a dream. All he’d ever known in London was the bitter cold, the icy wind, and the dirty slush. The world was rarely a pristine winter wonderland, and even when he saw glimpses, it was gone just as quickly, trampled beneath the hooves of too many horses and too many wagons on the crowded streets. Here in Maine, he often woke to an endless expanse of glittering white, unmarred and almost blinding in its purity. Icicles caught the sun, splashing a prism of colors onto the windows. Then there was the trappings of winter that he’d never experienced before: sledding, ice skating, and sleigh rides filled with fun and laughter alongside the Lucas girls.

The snow covered landscape was currently distracting him from his studies. He couldn’t stop feasting his eyes upon it, delighting in the nature spread before him. The endless white interrupted by the dark green of firs, the brilliant reds and blues of so many birds, and the occasional umber of a graceful deer. He never knew he was starved for such things until now.

Today it was a flash of gold, however, that caught his eye amidst the snow. A gold head, sans the red wool hat she should have been wearing. Her dress was topped with a thin red shawl, but her coat was nowhere to be seen. Killian frowned at the sight, then glanced around the library for his tutor. David had slipped out to give him quiet space to work, so Killian abandoned his Latin declensions and headed down the hall, through the kitchen, and out into the back yard. There Emma was, pacing back and forth on the Lucas side of the fence.

Killian paused, watching as she kicked at the ground, sending puffs of snow flying up into the air. He leaned against the fence and called out to her breezily, “Emma, what are you doing out here? And without a coat or hat. You’ll catch your death of cold.”

Emma startled at first, clearly not hearing him approach, but she quickly schooled her features into one of carelessness. She shrugged her slim shoulders. “I have gloves, which is more than I had before Granny.”

He nodded, even as he took in her threadbare shawl and the holes in said gloves. “Aye, it was the same for me on the streets of London.”

Emma’s eyes widened as she neared the fence. “Was your mother really an actress?”

“Aye, Uncle Nemo disapproved of her. As for my father, he left when he grew bored of us. When Mother died, I didn’t even know Uncle was looking for me.”

Emma scrambled up onto the bottom rungs of the fence and leaned over the top as he told his brief tale. He noticed then the leaves caught on the crown of her head and how disheveled her braid was. He thought he detected a red mark upon her cheek and frowned.

“Why are you out here in the middle of the day, Emma?”

She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “I got kicked out of school. For fighting. And I don’t know how I can face Granny or Belle. I thought about going to Aunt Regina’s to get Ruby, but I’m more afraid of Auntie than Granny.”

Killian couldn’t say he blamed her on that front. He reached over and pulled open the gate. “Well, I can’t soften the blow, but I can at least offer an ear and a cup of cocoa.”

“Truly?” Emma squealed as she jumped down from the fence with the type of energy only a twelve year old could muster.

Killian smiled and bowed exaggeratedly as she stepped through the open gate. “Of course, m’lady. As much cocoa as you can consume.”

She giggled. “With cinnamon?”

“Naturally.” He winked and offered his arm.

That was when Emma’s crush began in earnest, though she knew it was hopeless. He and Ruby were rarely apart, and Emma saw the way he sometimes looked at her older sister. When she heard he’d danced with Mary Margaret at Sally Moffett’s coming out ball last weekend, she was suddenly worried the rumors of a proposal weren’t just rumors. And she noticed even Belle blushing at him over the top of whatever book she was buried in. Why would he ever notice Emma?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma did indeed get a lecture from Granny on the importance of using one's words and not one's fists when facing injustice. Emma retorted that it had been her words that had gotten her slapped across the face by Minnie Moffett.

“I told her that her father was a tyrant sending children to early graves.”

“Emma!” Granny scolded.

“I only repeated what you said last night at dinner.”

Granny sighed and put away her knitting. She gestured for Emma to come near, and the

child came eagerly. She was the only one still small enough to sit upon Granny’s lap, and truthfully was enjoying it for much longer than the others had. No one said anything about it, however, knowing Emma had gotten precious little affection in her earliest years. Emma snuggled close to Granny, resting her head upon the old woman’s shoulders.

“Emma, my dear, while what I said about Mr. Moffett’s silk mill is true, I didn’t intend for it to go farther than our kitchen table.”

“But Minnie was turning her nose up at my dress,” Emma retorted, “saying it was old fashioned and threadbare. She said silk was all the rage now, that her father milled it right here in Storybrooke and that’s when I said she’d never get a penny from the Lucases. That we would rather wear muslin than hurt little children.”

Granny remained quiet, running her hand over Emma’s hair as she rocked back and forth. Finally, she spoke gently to her youngest child.

“Emma, it makes me happy and immensely proud to know that my girls stand up for what’s right. However, there is a way to go about it without attacking others. If we speak in a voice of hate, we are no better than the oppressors we are standing against.”

“So how do we help the children at Moffett’s Mill?”

“By making up the poor baskets, by baking for the Sunday school parties the church gives, and fighting for our right to vote. When women can vote, I bet children won’t have to work in factories anymore.”

“That could take forever!” Emma exclaimed.

Granny chuckled. “Not forever. We may not see it for ourselves, but one day, it will be so.”

“I only shoved Minnie after she slapped me,” Emma grumbled.

“I believe you, child.”

Nevertheless, Emma wasn’t allowed back at school until the following Monday, which seemed a cruel injustice since Minnie hadn’t been punished at all. Emma’s teacher would never admit it out loud, but it was painfully obvious that he considered Emma somehow morally depraved for being an orphan. Though Killian Jones had been an orphan, and no one seemed to think less of him.

“He’s rich,” Mary Margaret had explained with a shrug, “and he’s a boy.”

Emma sincerely hoped Granny and the rest of her fellow suffragettes got them the right to vote sooner rather than later. The list of things in the world that were unfair seemed to get longer every day. Of course, there was one injustice that had nothing to do with suffrage and everything to do with Ruby and her infuriating beauty. Killian was mesmerized by it, and it drove Emma absolutely crazy.

For one, Killian left far more notes in the hedge for Ruby than he did for the other Lucas girls. The notes he left for Emma in particular were downright babyish, and he always wrote “to my little cygnet.” Emma wanted to crumple them up in her fist and toss them in the fireplace, but she could never bring herself to do it. Then there was the way Killian flirted with Ruby. Belle wanted to know just how much Emma could possibly know about flirting. Emma retorted that she was twelve, not blind.

One day, Emma was at her desk sketching the snow covered fir trees from her window when she spied Killian chasing Ruby around the yard. She wasn’t sure what they were fighting over, but Killian was attempting to wrestle it away from Ruby by grasping her about the waist. Emma frowned and slammed her pencils down upon the desk so hard the tip of her green one broke. She grumbled and stomped down the stairs. When she flung the kitchen door open and stepped outside, Killian turned to her with a wide grin.

“Good afternoon, Emma!”

“Hi, Killian,” she mumbled back. “I was trying to draw and the two of you are being way too loud.”

“Sorry,” Ruby chuckled, “Killian was trying to steal my figs.”

“And you promised to share,” he retorted, trying to snatch one out of her hand again. He grasped Ruby’s wrist, but she switched the last fig to her other hand and popped it in her mouth. Killian did not release Ruby’s wrist, and Emma frowned.

“If you still want me to show you the wishing well, we need to get started,” Ruby said around a mouthful of fig.

Emma’s eyes lit up. “I’d like to go too!”

“Emma,” Ruby groaned, “you’re too little. You’ll get tired and complain.”

“No I won’t!”

“Yes you will.”

Emma’s eyes flashed. “You’re just hogging Killian!”

“Emma, that’s quite enough with your school girl crush,” snapped Ruby.

Killian laughed. “That’s ridiculous, Ruby. Emma’s just a little girl!” He turned to Emma with a dimpled grin and a wink. “It will be many moons indeed before she has to fret about such things. Am I right, cygnet?”

“Stop calling me that!”

“A cygnet is a Swan, love. It shows I’m fond of you.”

“A cygnet is a baby swan, and I’m not a baby!”

Ruby laughed. “Oh Killian, don’t hurt her feelings. She’s imagining herself as the future Mrs. Jones, lady of the grandest house in Storybrooke.” Her voice dripped with elitism as she pretended to fan her face and swoon.

Emma’s cheeks grew hot as she clenched both hands into tight fists at her side.

“You are the biggest hypocrite in all of Maine, Ruby Lucas!” she shouted. “Teasing me when everyone in Storybrooke knows you’re hunting for a proposal from Killian.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his jaw came unhinged just a bit as he looked over at Ruby. She wasn’t looking at him, however. Her eyes were flashing fire at Emma, and rage flared her nostrils.

“How dare you say such a thing! Whatever could cause such a ridiculous thought to even enter your brain-”

“It isn’t that ridiculous,” Killian frowned, his face unable to hide how her words wounded him.

Emma gave little thought to Killian’s feelings, too thrilled by the reaction she’d elicited in her sister. She gave her chin a haughty tilt and flipped her braid off her shoulder saucily.

“Everyone in town is gossiping about it. The way you’ve flung yourself at the boy next door in desperation for a proper match.”

Killian blanched then. “Desperate?” he whispered.

Emma’s gaze skittered to him, and her heart sank for just a moment at his devastated expression. For that reason, she didn’t see Ruby launch herself across the lawn until it was too late. Soon, the two of them were wrestling upon the snowy ground and screaming like hissing cats. Their cries brought the rest of the Lucas family running. Granny and Mary Margaret pulled Ruby off her little sister, and Belle rushed to comfort a now weeping Emma. Her hair was ripped from its braid, and she had a cut on her cheek from Ruby’s fingernails. Ruby didn’t get out unscathed either. Her dark hair was riotous and wild, pulled free of the pins that had held it out of her face, and her cheek was red from Emma’s fist.

“I’ll never forgive you for this, you little brat!” she screamed.

“Ruby!” Granny admonished. “What could the child possibly have done?”

Ruby fell in a heap upon the ground, weeping. Mary Margaret sank to her knees and gathered her close. Emma peeked out from the shelter of Belle’s arms and was relieved to see that Killian had disappeared. No doubt he thought they were completely out of their minds.

“How could you, Emma?” Ruby wept. “He’ll never come back to see us now. Not if he thinks we’re scheming for his inheritance.”

“Who?” Mary Margaret asked, her brow furrowed.

“Killian!” Ruby cried.

“We’ve never schemed for any proposals,” Belle pointed out matter-of-factly.

“We certainly have not,” Granny stated firmly, “and I highly doubt Killian believes such a thing.”

“He will,” Ruby said, tears flowing once again, “because Emma told him just to spite me, and now our friendship will be ruined.”

“It’s only ruined because you were so mean,” Emma countered. “You made it seem like marrying him was disgusting.”

“It is disgusting!” wailed Ruby. “You know how I feel about marriage, yet you slandered my name to Killian, making me seem like nothing more than an insipid, silly girl.”

Ruby had risen to her feet by this time, clutching her skirts in her white-knuckled hands. She spun away from her family and fled away; off into the woods where she so often found solace.

Silence fell amongst the rest of the Lucas females, and Granny sank wearily onto the bench beside the barren rose trellis.

“Emma,” she sighed, “when will you learn to control that sharp tongue of yours?”

“Me?!” Emma cried out, scrambling to her feet. “Ruby needs to learn to control her temper!”

“You’re right,” Granny admitted, “but you were both in the wrong here. What’s worse, you hurt poor Killian in the process.”

Tears rolled unbidden down Emma’s cheeks even as hot anger rose within her chest. “I know we hurt him! The worst part is, Ruby is too blind to understand why!”

Not wanting to hear her family confirm what she already suspected - that Killian was smitten with Ruby - Emma turned and fled up the stairs to her room. She flung herself across her bed, indulging in a rare fit of weeping.

It turned out, however, that Ruby was wrong. Killian left a note for her and one for Emma that very night in the hedge. They were both silly, with a little cartoon drawing at the bottom, with no mention whatsoever of the embarrassing argument and ensuing fight between the sisters. Ruby had rewarded Killian with a tight embrace and a kiss to his cheek, much to Emma’s chagrin.

Ruby did, however, keep her vow to hold a grudge against Emma, and in so doing, kept Killian away from her as well. Emma was relegated to watching them from her bedroom or parlor window, her heart sinking at the beaming smiles and bright eyes Killian bestowed upon her sister.

“Ruby will never forgive me,” Emma sighed one day, her forehead dropping to the frosted window pane. On the other side, Killian and Ruby were having an enthusiastic snowball fight.

“I’m sure that isn’t true,” Belle encouraged, glancing up from her book.

Emma wasn’t so sure.

********************************************

Emma ran over the hills, her ice skates thumping against her thighs. When she drew nearer to Walden Pond, she could see Ruby and Killian laughing as they raced across the ice.

“Wait for me!” she cried as she scrambled over the last hill.

Ruby looked at her with harsh narrowed eyes, then turned away with a haughty tilt to her chin. She grabbed Killian by the arm and dragged him farther across the ice. Emma blinked back the tears that pricked at her eyes, then pressed her lips together in a thin, angry line. With determination she started to buckle the skates to her boots.

“I’m coming, Killian!” she shouted as she hobbled on the thin blades to the edge of the pond.

Killian looked in her direction at the sound of her voice, but Ruby told him loudly, “Ignore her!”

He still looked toward Emma who was edging out onto the ice on wobbling legs. Ruby shoved him in the shoulder and said something to him in a voice too low for Emma to catch. Then Killian shrugged and leaned forward to race Ruby across the pond. Emma started to shuffle her feet faster, pausing every now and then to steady herself.

“I want to race!” she called out, but her sister and Killian were skating quickly away from her.

Emma was in the center of the pond now, cursing herself for not being faster on her skates. One moment she was pushing off across the ice, and the next the bottom dropped out from beneath her. The icy waters of Walden Pond hit her like a thousand knives as she plunged into the black depths. She screamed but it was cut off as her skirts dragged her quickly under. Panic seized her immediately, and she pushed up towards the surface. Granny had made sure they all knew how to swim, her feminist ideals surpassing any scandalous notions about ladies swimming, and Emma was glad for her eccentricities as she kicked and pushed down at the water with her hands. She managed to lift her head above the surface, but the bitter cold seeping into her bones was already making her sluggish. She knew she was being pulled under once again by the weight of her skirts and the fatigue that was washing over her. A cry clogged her throat as fear gripped her. What if she drifted below the ice and was trapped?

A strong hand grabbed the back of her coat just before her head slipped back under. She could vaguely hear Killian’s groan and the sharp crack of ice. The pond was giving way beneath him!

“Emma!” Ruby’s terrified scream penetrated her foggy brain. “Grab this!”

There was a thick tree branch right in front of her, and Emma clumsily grabbed it. However, her mittened hands were like blocks of ice, and she couldn’t get a firm hold of it. She started to weep. Was she going to die?

“Killian!” Ruby screamed. “The ice!”

The sharp pops of cracking ice reverberated across the pond.

“I won’t leave her!” Killian shouted, and he reached into the icy waters to grab Emma beneath the arms. He was halfway in the water now, but grabbed ahold of Emma with one arm and the tree branch with the other. The ice continued to crack as he wriggled backwards, still holding onto Emma. She tried to help him, but she had never been so tired, her brain never so foggy. Behind them, Ruby yelled with a feral cry as she pulled on the other end of the tree branch. Finally, Emma felt her legs scraping across a frigid surface, then she felt dirt and snow beneath her. Killian collapsed, his breaths ragged, his arm still holding her. He only gave himself a brief respite, however, before he clambered to his knees beside her.

“We have to get her out of these wet clothes, quickly,” Killian told Ruby as he began to pull at Emma’s coat. She was in and out of consciousness as they pulled off everything but her shift then wrapped her up in Ruby’s outer garments. Killian scooped her up and raced through the woods back to Orchard House. The arms of his coat were damp too, but his chest was warm against her.

Emma shivered, feeling brittle as ice, Killian’s face swirling above her. “I love you,” she burrowed further into his coat, “but you don’t love me back.”

“Of course I do, little cygnet, I love all the Lucas girls.”

That wasn’t what she meant.

**************************************************

Emma’s eyes flickered open; she wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep. She was warm beneath piles of blankets, and her stockinged feet were toasty. Someone had clearly slipped a bed warmer beneath the feather bed. A hand was gently caressing her forehead, and someone else’s arm slipped about her waist. She shifted to see Ruby cuddled up on her left and Belle on her right.

“Ruby Lucas! Did you walk all the way from Walden Pond in nothing but your petticoats?” a voice cried from across the room.

Emma lifted her head just enough to see Mary Margaret in front of the fire, hanging up their wet clothes.

“As if she even noticed,” Belle laughed softly, hugging Emma tighter.

“Thank you for saving me,” Emma said in a scratchy voice.

Ruby hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “Oh forgive me, Emma! If anything had happened to you . . .” She trailed off as if the idea was too terrible to even contemplate. “Thank God for Killian.”

Yes, Killian had saved Emma’s life, and in doing so, he had made her fall even more in love with him.

“Ruby?” Emma whispered. “Do you love Killian more than me?”

“Don’t be silly,” Ruby laughed. “I could never love anyone as I love my sisters.”

Emma smiled and snuggled deeper into her sisters’ embrace. “Good.”

[singofsolace]

Spellwell Fanfic List

If the only pairing you want to read from me is Zelda x Mary Wardwell, look no further! In alphabetical order, here are my seven Spellwell fics:

a future feast by Singofsolace

Rated: M ~ Words: 3,556 ~ Chapters: 1/1 ~ PTSD

Sabrina invites Mary Wardwell over for Thanksgiving. When Zelda suffers an episode of post-traumatic stress, Mary tries her best to help her through the aftermath. 

a year has fled o’er heart and head by Singofsolace

Rated: T ~ Words: 1,765 ~ Chapters: 1/1 ~ No Archive Warnings Apply

Mary Wardwell has never been kissed on New Year's Eve. Zelda seeks to rectify this grave injustice.

for reasons wretched and divine by Singofsolace

Rated: T ~ Words: 2,359 ~ Chapters: 1/1 ~ No Archive Warnings Apply

To keep up the appearance of the Spellman family being a part of the mortal community, Zelda Spellman attends a fundraising dinner held by her brother’s fiancé, Diana Sawyer. Zelda comes to regret her attendance, however, when the notorious bachelor, Mr. Kinkle, takes interest in her. When Mary Wardwell witnesses Mr. Kinkle’s advances, she takes a leap of faith, much to Zelda’s surprise and relief. But will Mary's well-intentioned actions have unforeseen consequences in a town as small as Greendale?

in the bleak midwinter by Singofsolace

Rated: T ~ Words: 4,255 ~ Chapters: 1/1 ~ No Archive Warnings Apply

In which Mary Wardwell truly does need to make funeral arrangements, but the timing couldn’t be worse. A blizzard blows in, forcing her to take shelter in the Spellman Mortuary, with only Zelda Spellman to keep her company.

just to sit outside your door by Singofsolace        

Rated E: Words: 6,848 ~ Chapters: 2/2 ~ No Archive Warnings Apply

Zelda Spellman and Mary Wardwell plan to go to dinner and a movie together, but will their nerves get the best of them? Can these two ladies put the pain and uncertainty of the past aside for long enough to enjoy their first date?

strange things did happen here by Singofsolace

Rated: T ~ Words: 1,716 ~ Chapters: 1/3 ~ Graphic Depictions of Violence

Late one afternoon, Mary Wardwell feels compelled to take a walk in the Greendale woods. Quite unexpectedly, she happens upon a woman who was attacked and left for dead at the foot of the Hanging Tree. But will the mysterious Zelda Spellman accept her help?

To bed, to bed, to bed! by Singofsolace

Rated: E ~ Words: 5,835 ~ Chapters: 1/1 ~ No Archive Warnings Apply

16 Years before the events of "Sir, Spare Your Threats," Zelda Spellman is filming a critical scene in the Scottish Play, under the direction of Mary Wardwell. Though the weather really isn't cooperating, and her brother has a disturbing secret to share, Zelda decides to forget it all in the arms of someone she both desires and trusts.

(making this list made me come to the realization that I use lower-case titles for Spellwell more than any other pairing... why?)

[the-hidden-writer]

A Second Chance: Chapter 5

An Ace Attorney fanfic. Read on both AO3 and FF.net!

Summary: Miles learns the identity of his “dead” mother, and the aftermath of that revelation is a tricky one. Especially when his newfound little sister is trying to turn him into a spirit medium.

AKA Miles is a Fey. Miles also doesn’t really know how to family properly.

[Chapter 1] | [Chapter 2] | [Chapter 3] | [Chapter 4]

Comments make my day! :D

The Promise

You’d assume, being a prosecutor, that one would get used to the atmosphere of a prison. Perhaps many do. Miles, however, doubted he ever could. Not when he knew that there were so many stories confined in its walls, many of them probably stories of injustice. It made him nauseous to think that he was so close to being in one of these himself.

If Phoenix Wright hadn’t intervened.

Waiting in a private visiting room, he couldn’t help but keep his gaze fixed on the ground. He couldn’t deny it- he was nervous to meet the man. They hadn’t really met each other before, but both unknowingly played a part in each other’s story, therefore it sort of felt like it was overdue.

The door on the other side of the glass finally clicked and opened. Miles looked up to see Diego Armando enter, clad in the black and white striped prison uniform with his head still held high. He was wearing his infamous visor, which he couldn’t help but feel relieved at. It was a special request from him that he be permitted to wear it during the visit, although he wasn’t sure if they would grant it. At least the man could see his expression when he told him the news.

“Miles Edgeworth,” Armando said as he slowly sat down in the chair on the other side of the glass (though somewhat visibly disorientated presumably due to suddenly being given his visor) with a small smile appearing on his face. His voice was deep and rough from misuse. “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Miles cleared his throat. “Hello, Mr. Armando. I-”

“Stop shaking, Mr Prodigy. From what I’ve heard you’re no caffeine addict, so there’s no need to act like one.”

Had he been shaking?

In truth, Godot’s story hit a little too close to home for Miles, even before he knew that he had killed his mother. For one thing, to watch Phoenix Wright accuse a prosecutor in court is not something to be taken lightly. It was unheard of, until his own trial where the prosecutor was found guilty of killing his father. Manfred Von Karma. More recently, Diego Armando had been found guilty of killing Maya’s mother, coincidentally also with Phoenix acting as defence.

That man seemed to be a truth magnet.

After that trial, he’d gained a newfound sympathy for Maya. He’d never really known how to tell her properly, but losing a parent in that fashion is not an experience shared by many. Little did he know that they would soon have to both experience each other’s pain with the revelation that they were siblings.

And the white-haired man sitting behind the glass killed their mother. It was hard not to keep thinking of that.

He cleared his throat again. “I’m sure you’re aware of the Kurain Channeling Technique?”

Diego snorted. “Too well.” Was his curt reply.

“Well,” Miles continued, “after an important conversation with her, Mia Fey sent me here.”

Suddenly Armando stiffened, and his relaxed demeanor morphed into one of importance. His posture straightened, his shoulders tensed. It was almost comedic how the mention of one name could change his entire attitude. Almost.

“Why…” he whispered, perhaps to himself, “why isn’t she the one here?”

“Because the matter at hand doesn’t entirely concern her.” Miles responded honestly.

Armando didn’t reply. Miles took that as a signal to continue.

“She told me that you had once studied under my father, Gregory Edgeworth.”

Diego sighed. “I did, but not for long.” A wistful smile pulled at his lips. “The tricks he taught me lingered in my mind everywhere I went. I was young, reckless,” he stifled a humourless laugh, “and it took a lot of convincing to get him to take on a penniless runt like me.”

He turned his head towards him, and Miles could only assume that he was looking him in the eyes. All he got was the glare of the red visor.

“He caved in the end, if only because he wanted to practise on teaching a cub like me before he did it with his own son. Hmm, he talked about you all the time.”

“I see.”

“I taught everything he taught me to Mia, you know. She must’ve taught it to Phoenix Wright.” He laughed quietly. It was an unsettling, hollow sound. “That was probably what got me in the end. Good old Greg, always searching for justice, even from beyond the grave.”

He paused, and the smile faded. “He was a good man. Better than you or I could ever hope of being.”

Miles didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know many people who knew his dad, so any praise (even if it was coming from a murderer) was highly valued.

“I suppose,” Miles said, once he was sure that his voice wouldn’t break, “that you were the messenger between father and daughter then.”

He sucked in a breath and waited for a response. Even without the visor, Armando was good at hiding emotion. His expression was blank as he processed what he’d just been told.

“...You’re kidding.” He said eventually.

“No.”

“Ha… I always saw a piece of Greg in her. I guess that wasn’t just me after all.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

The realisation hit a little too late. Whatever emotional barrier Armando had built for himself suddenly shattered in an instant. His perfected neutral expression turned into one of horror.

“Hold on, are you Misty’s-”

“Yes.”

“So you’re their-”

“Biological brother, yes.”

“God…”

Armando forced a grin. “I ruined another life that day, huh?”

It took all of his effort for Miles not to say “yes” to that too. So he kept silent. It was Diego who spoke next.

“I’m not gonna waste my sins with an apology, because I would be lying to you. I’m not sorry for what I did, as much as I try to be... Regret? Sure, a bit I guess. But I would do it again. I orphaned you and your sister, there’s no changing that.”

To be honest, Miles was expecting an apology when he came in here. However, now he was glad he didn’t get one. He didn’t want to feel sympathy for this man.

He just wanted to leave.

“Thank you,” he said gruffly, “for saving my sister.”

With that, he abruptly rose and made his way to the door, knocking on it sharply thrice. He accomplished what he came to do, and kept his word. That was all.

“Edgeworth.”

He turned to look at Armando, who in that time had removed his visor to reveal white, glossy eyes and a long, deep scar between them. Diego wasn’t looking directly at him, instead was staring straight ahead into the glass. It was a haunting sight.

“Tell Mia… tell her thanks for sending you. And… I want to see her. Please.”

Damn it. Sympathy.

“I’ll consider it.”

And he left.

~._-_.~

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

“Hello?”

“Mystic Soma! Hi!”

“Mystic Maya! How are you since last time?”

“A lot better. So much better! I’ve kinda come to accept that even though Mom’s gone, she got justice in the end. I didn't even really know her so…”

“I hardly remember her too, but my mother says she was an incredibly nice woman, so she’ll be happy when I tell her. You sound a lot better than last week, I was starting to get worried about your health. You do realize that you’re the mast-”

“Hey Soma, is Pearly around? I’ve got some really important news to tell her, and I just can’t wait!”

“Oh, yes she is. Is it good news or bad news? Should I stay with her?”

“It’s awesome news! But yeah, I think you should stick around. You can pretend you’re cleaning or something like you used to do with me.”

“I did not!”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“And you’re imagining things. Hold on, I’ll get Pearly for you.”

“Thanks!”

“Pearl! Come over here, Mystic Maya wants to speak to you!”

“...Pearly?”

“H-hi Mystic Maya.”

“Oh Pearly, you’re not still sad over my mom, are you? Mystic Soma told me you were feeling better!”

“...I told her to say that.”

“Oh, Pearly.”

“I-I-I’m sorry! I d-didn’t want to make you s-sad...”

“Nonono, don’t cry! I have some really cool news!”

“R-Really? What is it?”

“I found out who my dad was, and I have a brother!”

“What? B-But Mystic Maya-”

“I know! But that’s not even the best part!”

“Wha-who…?”

“Pearly, you’ll never believe it, but Edgeworth’s my brother! He’s your cousin!! He’s a part of our family!!!”

“...h-huh?”

“Mr Edgeworth’s your big cousin, Pearly! And yes, it is the one you’re thinking of. Tall but not that tall, weird dark hair, always looks like he wants to slam his face into a wall? Him! He’s-”

“No!”

“Huh? Pearly?”

“NO!!!”

“What? Pearly, what-”

“Mystic Maya, what did you say?!”

“Mystic Soma, I-”

“I’ve got to go, Pearly’s really upset.”

“I don’t-”

Click!

“...I don’t know what I said.”

[citoyenneangele]

Some thoughts concerning Le Cabuc

After reading all these interesting contributions on Enjolras’s speech after the Le Cabuc incident, and also due to some other reasons including @alicedrawslesmis illustrations and observations regarding this chapter, I decided that maybe I should give it another look.

I would like to try now to put my thoughts into words. This is also gonna be mainly about what Enjolras may have thought of while saying:

As for myself, constrained as I am to do what I have done, and yet abhorring it, I have judged myself also, and you shall soon see to what I have condemned myself.

There were the most variant interpretations, going from death, over more killing to the denial of his own place in the future he invisioned in that very speech.

To me it is not really a contradiction. It rather seems to be a combination of all of these elements, at least to a certain extent.

Death of course seems to be the most logic consequence. If he killed le Cabuc for having killed an innocent, then he too shall receive capital punishment. Some of the people in here have however suggested that then he would not want spare himself until the end and only be killed as the last one. Or that they would start sparing people at this point already, if he knew that they all would die. However there are some indicators that he did think about death while saying this because of the very words he uses to end his speech:

The day will come, citizens, when all will be concord, harmony, light, joy and life; it will come, and it is in order that it may come that we are about to die.

However by giving their deaths a meaning by connecting it to the ultimate goal of their cause, he can’t just think about dying in a way that corresponds to this goal and the meaning he wanted to give everything. So in this sense he sentenced himself to going through this, fighting for it until the end, in a way that sanctifies the cause. Basically just giving all that is in his power for a success and stay until the end and accept possible consequences, that may be very probably deadly. Even though it doesn’t necessarily have to be that. It could also mean prison or isolation. But death probably is the first thing that comes into Enjolras’ mind too.

Even though the Amis probably went there to build this barricade with arms because they intended to kill, it is something to think about killing on a barricade, and yet another thing to actually kill another person, to have blood on your hands, so to say. And that is what happened to Enjolras when confronted with Le Cabuc. And besides being the first actual killing at the barricade, it is also a different sort of killing. They were supposed to shoot on the guys on the other side of the barricade, who were their opponents in this fight. However probably no one was prepared that someone among them might go out and shoot on innocent neighbours. So this one was a killing Enjolras was not prepared for.

And yet his conscience of injustice told him to act, and he acted. And only after that he realised what he just did. He realized that he was not longer as pure as before. That he did something that could not be reversed. That by taking that step towards his ideals that he has taken by building this barricade, he did contemporarily remove himself from that ideal world he has envisioned. He can serve as some sort of medium to approach that ideal state, and yet he cannot be part of it himself. Because he never will be the same as before the barricade.

As for Combeferre’s “We will share thy fate”, is to me an anticipation of what comes after Enjolras’ speech, i.e.

Jean Prouvaire and Combeferre pressed each other’s hands silently, and, leaning against each other in an angle of the barricade, they watched with an admiration in which there was some compassion, that grave young man, executioner and priest, composed of light, like crystal, and also of rock.

And most of all it is an expression of solidarity, it is a way of showing Enjolras that he may be the one who did this, and herefore carries the biggest responsability in some way, but in a way he did this for all of them, so his fate is also theirs. They are going through this together, no matter what will happen.

---

I wanted to write this already quite some time and I have now finally given it a try. I hope it makes at least half as much sense as I had originally hoped for.

[empowercbcgl]

Silence and Sleep

This post was written by Michael Ni who will be graduating from Boston University in Winter 2020. Hopefully he can find a job afterwards or something. Here is a collection of his various musings about his faith in his recent college years.

I would like to preface by stating that I will be referencing a few sources, both secular and religious. While it is important for us as Christians to meditate upon our Divine command, it is my belief that only through ruminating the words of others can we truly strengthen our faith beyond a superficial level. In his book Art as Experience, American philosopher and writer John Dewey states that “A poem and picture present material passed through the alembic of personal experience. They have no precedents in existence or in universal being. But, nonetheless, their material came from the public world and so has qualities in common with the material of other experiences, while the product awakens in other persons new perceptions of the meanings of the common world”. If we so choose to examine the teachings and musings of both Christian and non-Christian writers alike, we strengthen both our faith in His divine power as well as our resolve to defend this faith. 

We often view the embodiment of wisdom as an elderly, perhaps scholarly, man or woman, regaling those around them with tales of their vast experiences or cryptic and grave-sounding prose or parable, meant to evoke a lesson or invoke a period of introspection. However, I believe that each and every person, without regard to their age or experiences has some degree of wisdom worthy to share with the world. In fact, it is a fallacy itself to believe that a wise or even perfect man is above learning a new lesson. While God himself is the Great Teacher of humanity, I believe that there is wisdom to be found beyond just His holy scripture that may teach us to better interpret His will. 

1.

“Every word has consequences. Every silence, too.” -Jean Paul Sartre

A large part of reaching emotional maturity lies in our ability to live with others. Learning our boundaries with people, setting our limits on how to speak or act, and even how to interpret our outlook on those around us are important aspects to becoming a mature and contributing member of both society and the natural world. Intersubjectivity is a term used by philosophers to refer to the psychological relations between people, as opposed to the traditional Cartesian view of solipsism, the individual experience. French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre describes the intersubjective experience in his book Being and Nothingness as something he calls “The Look”. Imagine yourself walking through an empty park alone, taking in the sights and sounds, appreciating the world for what it is to you when you suddenly notice a man on a bench. The man looks up at you and immediately, for a split moment, you are unnerved. From the moment your gazes cross, you both now realize that you are not alone and the world around you which you had interpreted in your own way, is now a shared experience, no longer subject to your interpretation alone. In order to learn to exist in the presence of others, we must learn to live with The Look. Simply put, it is of utmost importance that we realize that the world itself is not set up specifically to cater to our will but is a realm we must share with others and their views. 

One of my primary struggles as a Christian is learning to coexist with people who do not share my beliefs. While on a surface level this includes communicating with non-Christians who may believe in a different God or no God, I also run into the conflict of communicating with Christian believers who share my same core beliefs but have differing views on concepts such as social justice, or sexual bigotry. Truthfully, this is an aspect of my faith I have not yet been able to solve, but my confidence lies in the fact that while God is my Almighty Father, my connection to the Hereditary and Original Sin have imparted upon me the privilege of wisdom and the ability of free will. Thus I am no longer subject to merely bear witness to the atrocities of false prophets and the destruction of Sodom, but am empowered to speak up against the face of hatred that masks itself under the guise of the Christian faith. 

Sartre claims that “essence precedes existence”, that is, that the personality is not built upon pre-existing models or natural purpose, because it is the conscious human who chooses to engage in behaviors or enterprise. As an example, while the traditional Christian view is that marriage is the union of man and woman in Christ’s spirit, it becomes my free will, my essence, to cement a potentially different belief, for my existence itself is imperfect by nature, as Adam and Eve indulged in the Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Rebellion is not sinful by nature. In fact, sometimes rebelling against the word of God further bolsters the strength of our faith as we learn new insights of what His will truly is. The most fatal path to take when facing adversity against both our justice or our faith, even when originating from ourselves, is silence, as “the dead do not praise the Lord, nor do any who go down into silence (Psalms 32:3 ESV). The time of passivity in the face of injustice has passed, rather it should have never existed to begin with. Now is the time for us to no longer stay silent but to speak out against the evils present, for “what we do now echoes in eternity” (Marcus Aurelius, Meditations).

2.

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.” -Rumi

 In his poem “A Great Wagon” Rumi describes a field, a world beyond even the concepts of  right and wrong, where the world is too full to talk about, and ideas, language or the phrase “each other” no longer matter. There is tranquility and peace to be found in Rumi’s words, imagining a field where the “breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you” and “people go back and forth between the door-sill where the two worlds touch”; A field where we are bathed in the light of salvation; Able to touch God. In a world distraught by conflict, plague and violence, we can only imagine this field, where the wrongdoings of others no longer matter, and the need for right-doing is a thing of the past, where the people of the world can coexist in harmony under the loving embrace of the Lord. 

However, we cannot delude ourselves into believing that this “doorsill”, the threshold to this beautiful world, can be traversed so easily. Happiness is built upon the backs of those who have sacrificed. Both the biblical martyrs and those who die to bring injustice to light have established the better, brave new world we live in today. This is another struggle I have had with my faith in the past. Is it right to live blissfully upon this pyramid of bones and bloodied soil? What is the worth of my happiness where nothing was staked? Even Jesus, the great martyr and redeemer, who died for the sins of all of mankind; Am I permitted to rejoice and exist in comfort today? 

“Don’t go back to sleep. You must ask for what you really want.” For the past five to six years and even to today, I have battled with depression. Depression is not sadness. Depression is the lack of vitality, the loss of the mind’s ability to wake up and experience life itself. There were countless mornings when I would wake up and stay in bed, not because I was physically exhausted, but because I no longer had the will to stand up and face the day. There were sometimes months-long periods where not a single day passed without me thinking about how much I wished to die. What kept me going was not the fear of pain of death, nor the sinful nature of taking one’s own life, nor even the grief of loved ones had it come to pass. Within the tempest of hopelessness and hatred for the world, there was a single anchor for hope; There was work that needed to be done in the world. Even though change on a global or national level was far beyond my jurisdiction, I felt compelled to do something with my life. I felt that I had not yet paid the toll that my life was worth. While each day I struggled, I needed to endure them, and while each small step I took towards my healing was arduous, they were victories, and I needed to claim them, no matter how hollow. God has set forth a path for our salvation. Let us fight for this salvation with our own hands. In the words of Marcus Aurelius in his Meditations, “When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive - to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.” It is my mortal duty to open the door to Rumi’s field for those who have not yet found their salvation.

Don’t go back to sleep. You may not want to wake up again tomorrow. You may no longer feel compelled to do kindness upon others. “Let us not sleep, as others do, but let us watch and be sober… putting on the breastplate of faith and love, and as a helmet, the hope of salvation” (1 Thessalonians 5:4-8 ESV). Truthfully it is beyond my capability to say that better days are yet to come for either you or me, but even still, let our love and faith resonate and move the hearts of others, so that we may one day see justice prevail as we walk together into a field beyond all ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing. God has granted everyone the right to live, thus it is our duty to fight for this right.

“Let your kindness be like rain, that cares not about whom it falls upon” -Rumi

[trashyocstash]

i should've done this a while ago, but anyways, here's an updated list of all my ocs. descriptions and generally from the original.

rick and morty

julie:

my version of rick’s wife from the show “rick and morty”. she’s a very kind, sweet, loving, caring and forgiving person with a big heart. she’s also a huge hopeless romantic and has dreamed of love since she was a little girl, but the problem is, julie is painfully shy, quiet and gets easily nervous and scared. so for the longest time, finding a partner was difficult, until she met and fell in love with rick.

in addition to loving romance, julie also loves to read books, make food, listen to music, stargaze and is a huge girly girl. she likes to wear pretty clothes, make-up and jewelry. she does have a tomboy side, seen in her love of adventure with rick, but overall is very girly and feminine.

during the story, julie is 27 years old. she’s from the 1970s and was born in 1951, the rick/julie story takes place in 1978.

mark:

mark is one of julie’s best friends. he’s a peace-loving, goofy and friendly hippie, but don’t make him angry or you’ll regret it. he has a big kind heart, and likes to help people, he sees a lot of injustice in the world and wants it to be a better place. he’s the comic relief type.

he has a learning disability, and also suffers from severe depression, but lives in a world where mental health is taboo, so he tries to deal with it as best he can. his goofiness is really an attempt to hide his pain with a smile, he doesn’t want his friends to know he’s suffering.

he also really loves sci-fi and superheros, big comic nerd. he loves franchises like stars and star trek.

mark is 26 years old during the story, but as he was born in 1951 as well, he’s on the verge of turning 27. his love interest is vivian.

vivian:

julie’s other best friend, they’ve known each other since they were babies. vivian is more short-tempered and serious, not usually seen with a smile on her face. but despite the fact she comes of callous and humorless, she does have a good heart deep down and cares for others deeply, just isn’t the best at showing it.

she likes reading books, and secretly shares julie love of romance, and reads julie’s books on her, but tries to hide it.

she’s also bisexual, but due to the stigma surrounding lgbt people in the 70s, she avoids relationships with women. mark is her love interest.

vivian is also 27 years old during the story.

chris:

the son of rick and julie, and younger brother of beth, christopher “chris” sanchez looks like rick, but his personality is closer to julie’s.

he has an encyclopedia-level knowledge of plants, and works as a botanist. as a child, he also had his own garden in the backyard that julie helped him with. he and julie were also very close, in part due to rick being an absent father, and was devastated when she passed away when he was only 14. this, combined with rick being an absent father and abandoning him at only 11 caused chris to develop abandonment issues.

chris is very friendly and kind, and tends to patient and understanding. however, dealing with his family can cause him to become sour pretty quickly, as they won’t deal with their problems properly and don’t react well when julie is mentioned. on a side note, he’s also the only one who has dealt with her death properly and visits her grave every mother’s day to lay the same flowers they planted in his garden together, and to let her know that if she’s still out there in some way, that she’s still loved and cared about.

she ra

flameria:

flameria is the princess of tambora and also…an arsonist, she just can’t help but light things on fire. she has a very excitable, extroverted personality and is filled with energy. she yells a lot and can be a bit…much for people…also huge lesbian.

flameria can control fire and survive in extremely hot temperatures, it’s why she can live a volcano.

she’s dating @glampyra‘s oc jungleira.

duerma:

duerma is the princess or nubelaria, and has a very serene, gentle and mellow personality. she also has the ability to enter people's dreams, which she uses to help people. in addition, duerma can generate, control and manipulate clouds.

she is also known to he very patient and understanding, perhaps due to her dream ability.

crash bandicoot

kallipso:

kallipso is a tiger quoll, and is dating pinstripe. she has a cutesy vintage aesthetic going on, and also named herself.

undead ocs

leila:

leila died more recently, so she's still having some trouble adjusting to the afterlife, but thankfully for her, she has her friends and black cat spooks to help.

she has a cheerfully morbid personality, and likes making dark jokes. leila likes to stay positive and keep a smile on her face at all times, feeling it's for the best.

leila is also 20 years old, and died by drowning in algae-infested waters while she was unconscious, evident in her green skin and hair. her love interest is edgar, and she helps him learn more about the modern world.

edgar:

edgar died in 1924 when he was 23, accidentally getting electrocuted on the job. he's the most adjusted to life in the afterlife, and helps teach leila more about it. because he died in the 20s, he also sometimes spits out 20s slang, and leila, being his girlfriend, is the only one that understands him.

he has a hardworking personality and doesn't quit, even when he should. he has a more realistic view of the world, which is why he appreciates and admires leila's endless joy and optimism.

raine:

raine died in 1986 of an eye infection at 21. she has asperger's syndrome, which is why she's so intently interested in fashion and history, and can ramble on about both for hours.

raine loves to make fashions, and likes combing her interest of history into it as well. she makes clothes for her friends and boyfriend servius, just out of the kindness of her heart.

as she's autistic, raine is also very shy and quiet. she has trouble socializing, but her friends and servius are trying to help her out as best they can. it's also why she had the worst reaction to entering the afterlife, realizing she was dead and couldn't see her friends and family and couldn't go home sent her spiraling. but she's thankfully doing better now.

grant:

grant died of pneumonia at 22 in 2017, a result of his weak immune system. so because of that, grant is a germaphobe and perfectionist. he doesn't like messes, even though since he's dead, he can't catch any type of disease anymore.

he's also gay and dating xavier, but his overprotective and sheltering parents thought his homosexuality was just a phase and always dismissed it. as they sheltered him, and his weak immune system meant he didn't get out much, grant is terrible at socializing and is nervous to try new things. but he's getting there, slowly but surely.

as sad as it is, grant is more free dead than he ever was alive.

xavier:

xavier died at 25 in 2015 after falling off a cliff while hiking, as he wasn't looking where he was going. he has adhd and so tends to get easily distracted and forgetful.

xavier loves to pull off stunts and other crazy things. now that he's dead, he has no fear of getting injured or even worse. and it always worries grant, who he helps learn new things.

he's very reckless and headstrong, and excitable. it doesn't take much to make him laugh.

cassandra:

cassandra died at 19 in 2013 after getting murdered by two ex friends. as a result, she keeps herself closed off from others, afraid any new friends she get will betray her. it took her a long time to open up to the others.

she comes off as angry, bitter and moody, but once she's opened up enough, her true personality is revealed. cassandra is a prankster, and loves using her ghost abilities to mess with the dead. she loves to have fun and be wild and crazy.

cassandra also is a music lover, being part of a band when alive. and she's never stopped playing her music.

servius:

servius was an ancient roman soldier who died on the battlefield after getting shot in the heart with an arrow. he's very stuck in the past, and even now, he retains a belief in the roman gods. raine is helping teach him new things at least.

he has an intimating appearance, but he's a sweetheart deep down and raine has gotten him to develop a love of art. she finds art therapy is a great way for him to control his anger issues. in one word, he's a himbo.

supernatural ocs

evelyn:

evelyn is an anthropomorphic bat from a large rich family, and so has a lot of expectations placed on her. she's never been allowed to be herself and has been scolded for her interests in the past. however, mona has helped her open up and be herself. so she's a pastel goth instead of a "full on goth", which is normal in their world.

she has a deadpan, snarky and brutally honest personality, but also has a good heart deep down.

mona:

mona is an anthropomorphic pumpkin girl, and is basically the equivalent of goth in their world: she dresses up in pink and loves cute things. she comes from a large farming family, who don't understand her, but love her dearly. she also has an irish accent.

mona has a cheerful and excitable personality, and she loves to be silly and goof off. but she's also a hard worker and takes her job on the farm seriously. and she and evelyn and gfs.

yuka:

yuka is a qalupalik, a creature from the traditional inuit belief system. she has a ghost husky named amaruq, and has an adventurous and fun loving personality. she loves to do various snow-related sports like snowboarding and skiing.

mortis family

victor:

the father of the family, victor is a goofball with a dark sense of humor. show him a horror movie, he'll probably laugh. he's a dedicated and caring father, while astra works, he will care for the children and loves to play with them. victor is also a loving husband and can easily make the stoic astra laugh and smile.

astra:

the mother of the family, astra is a witch and comes from a family of them. she is a strong, powerful and confident woman, but isn't very front about it. she appears callous, but is really very loving and kind. she cares deeply for her husband and children, and keeps protective crystals in the children's rooms. astra runs an online business selling materials needed for witchcraft. her familiar is a samoyed named "snowdrop".

ravenna:

12 year old ravenna loves gothic fiction and hopes to write novels of the genre herself someday. her room is full of books and she loves to read and write. ravenna is the nicest of the family and has a big heart, but is very socially awkward. the other girls think she's weird and so she keeps her distance, and despite her mother trying to instill self-confidence in her, ravenna struggles with it because of her social problems. she is secretly jealous of ricky's social skills. she also helps her mother with witchcraft and has a familiar of her own, a pet raven named "poe", who she named after edger allen poe.

ricky:

his name is a pun on "rigor mortis", and he's 8 years old. ricky is fascinated by death and loves learning about anything relating to it, especially execution and torture methods. he has toy replicas of the methods as well and loves to play with them. he wants to be a mortician someday. ricky has his own group of friends who think he's really cool, and they play together a lot.

morella:

morella is 3 years old, and is just grasping her magical abilities. she can sometimes be seen climbing around on the walls and ceilings, and is very silly and mischievous. she also loves to draw, and her art hangs up on the fridge.

dracul:

he's not a member of the family, and instead is ravenna's love interest. he's from romania, specifically transylvania, and has a love of vampires, and specifically dracula due to his name. he's non-judgmental and is close to ravenna.

[wordshelphurt]

Notes on love: non-monogamy meets jealousy

I am writing because I want to feel differently. I am hoping somehow that if the words leave my brain or the confines of a conversation that maybe I might realize that things are not as scary as they seem; but I am skeptical.

Some months ago, I entered a relationship with a woman who identifies as non-monogamous. At the time I thought: hmm, well, I have no problem with this conceptually. We are generally a long-distance couple anyway, so this might end up being a healthier situation for me than my previous long-distance relationships. And for a while, this was okay. I learned about her other girlfriends, observed her dating habits, but was secure in the knowledge that I am the primary partner.

During this time, we were also living in the same city and were able to enjoy each other’s company for about a month, an enormous blessing for a long-distance relationship: the gift of time. Yet, in the back of my mind, I was aware and even vocalized that “I am a traditionally jealous person. I am not sure how I will end up feeling about non-monogamy, but I suspect it may be difficult.”

Time passes, she goes back out onto the road and I stay at home: things are back to normal for a time. Then, miracle upon miracles, I am allowed to fly out and see her while she’s back in her home bases, visiting with key people in her life. This all goes well enough, but I learn that one of her girlfriends does not know I am visiting - the one who lives where I am now passing through. During this time, she also starts talking with me about all these friends and strangers she is attracted to, a dynamic previously nonexistent in our discourse.

After trying to maintain a level of cool and calm, approaching the situation through conversation and rationale, I lose it. I start to feel a sickness in my body: a head-throbbing, heart-pounding, gut-wrenching, dizzying and nauseating illness that has made it’s way to me every time I ever felt the first gnawings of a breakup on the horizon.

Now, we start fighting. We go to therapy together. We vow to figure this thing out, to have more open and honest communication, and so on. But by now, we have all seen this movie, right? We hit the iceberg a while ago, which may have even been at the beginning of the story when we were too happy to notice it. Now we’re on a sinking ship and we are trying to decide if we should just keep dancing to our graves, or do something drastic to try and save our asses.

I am no monster, I could not ask her to change; and even if I did, that change would never last because it could never be genuine, and I don’t want her to change who she is. At the same time, I am interested in changing myself: trying to distance myself away from the jealous person I have been and towards a more loving, open and sharing partner; but there are two problems. The first is, I have no idea how to take that journey. The second is, our trust is not rock-solid.

Look, I have not been overly socialized. I know that monogamy is no guarantee that a partner will stay. I know it’s a heteronormative practice that is indicative of ownership. I know that it’s an unrealistic way of relating because let’s face it, we all have eyes and libidos and, naturally, one person can’t satisfy all our sexual, emotional, mental, and spiritual needs for relating. I get it.

Still, when I think about her flirting and fucking and falling in love with someone else, my gut just curls inside itself and says a definitive, “no” because, for me, all this complication and upset is based in past relationship traumas. Let’s pause here and take a minute to recognize, this is my first real relationship in three years, and my last relationship was a dumpster fire of trauma-bonding, emotional abuse, and codependency; so, any relationship after that was going to hard for me, let alone one that, by its nature, daily pokes at my abandonment issues.

With my rose-colored glasses, I see this all as an incredible opportunity for me to conquer these past hurts; but on my gloomier days, I see this as an impossible task, in which I am set up to fail and fail badly. I feel a sense of injustice that I alone have to change, to do all this work to maintain a relationship. I feel a pang of guilt that I entered the thing in the first place, knowing full well that this was a likely outcome of my doing so. I feel anger toward myself, for not being able to just go along with it all, to take it in strides and make peace with it. I feel a lot.

I have not the slightest inclination of what may happen, but I hope something does because dancing to our graves is not how I want to end this relationship, I want to feel like we fought for our lives. Because at the end of the day, I love this woman, and she loves me.

Xoxo

[royallyprincesslilly]

Late (20.3)

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Plot, Blood

Word Count: 3640K

Note: Wheeew, I know, I know, I know. This took FOREVER. I’m sorry, truly. I told you guys I wanted to make this perfect especially because we are at the end and I don’t want to put out half-assed work and I wanted to make the necessary connections. I hope you guys enjoy this. I also have been going through a writing drought and haven’t felt the want to write. I know my issues and not yours, I’m sorry. Without further a due, ta-da!

***Loosely edited/proofread

******Interactive Chapter(KINDA, PICTURES COUNT :) )***

Thank you guys for reading. I appreciate it. If you enjoyed this, please LIKE and REBLOG. ❤️ ❤️ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wakanda was abuzz with the latest gossip of Ma’Uchi, Nakia, Tandra and W’Kabi and the attempted coup. No one could believe the lengths Nakia went to and no one could believe the fate the group shared and how T’Challa had went from one side of the spectrum to dropping the full weight of Wakanda’s rule upon them.

Everyone was now wondering when the king would finally give into his love for Y/N. In truth Wakanda was ready for the dawn of the era the king had promised.

You sat in the garden watching the sun set behind the Jabari mountains and smiled. You now had more of a fondness for the Jabari and their leader Lord M’Baku and you were excited about the potential for not only Wakanda’s growth but also the Jabari. You’d decided to finally unite all the tribes for a stronger Wakanada, all that was left was to reason with the king and help him see the logic of your words. You didn’t think it would be a hard task especially after he knew of the details of today.

You took a deep breath in and slowly released it. As you did you felt the stress and anxiety from the last few months dissipating. As you took another deep inhale you felt a sort of freedom you hadn’t felt in months. You closed your eyes hoping to relish the feeling for as long as you could. You didn’t know how long you sat there but by the time you opened your eyes you saw the queen mother sitting next to you. You jumped in shock before she placed a soothing hand upon your knee.

“It is just me,” Ramonda calmly voiced.

You smiled and nodded, relaxing yourself. The sun had disappeared behind the mountains and the sky was filled with hundreds of stars. The same stars that always made you think of T’Challa. You smiled to yourself.

“By yourself?” Ramonda asked.

“Yes.”

“Hm, interesting. I did not expect you to be by yourself. In fact i expected you and my son to be deep in conversation at this time,” she continued.

“The king is a busy man. After the debacle of today i am sure he had a lot to see to,” you reasoned.

“I am sure he did, but I didn’t expect anything to be more important than you.”

You sighed and looked to Ramonda’s face. She had a sly smile on her lips as she stared up into the star speckled night sky. After a few moments she looked to you and smiled wider.

“Unless it is you who is hiding,” she finished.

She’d guessed it, hit the nail right on the head, stolen the cookie from the cookie jar, pieced it together. You doubted it was a hard puzzle to put together. You looked down to your hands and entangled your fingers together before untangling them only to do the action again and again.

“Why are you hiding?” Ramonda asked when minutes passed of silence and her careful observation of your face.

You didn’t know the right words to speak, you didn’t even know what to say.

“Y/N?” Ramonda urged.

“A lot has happened. The last forty-eight hours have sped by like a tornado and in it’s wake everything has changed but quite possibly nothing. All that is certain is there is so much uncertainty,” you rushed out in one breath.

“You are right, a lot has happened. A lot has changed because of what has happened, but the only way to shed light on the unknown is by addressing it,” Ramonda counseled.

You knew what she was saying was true, still when the chance came you ran away.

“Wakanda owes you a debt Y/N. I owe you a debt.”

“You owe me nothing. I did this for Wakanda, for you. You all deserved to know the truth, you deserved some form of peace. I only hope that by dredging up the painful past I have not disrupted T’Chaka in the ancestral plane and I have not broken your heart all over again,” you confessed.

Ramonda took your hands within hers and firmly squeezed them as she turned to face you.

“Y/N, T’Chaka blesses you. I have been consulting with the ancestors and they are forever indebted to you for your actions. For rooting out the evil within Wakanda. What you have done is no small feat, but it’s benefits will spread across the land. As for my pain, it will never go away, never but you have lessened it by shining light on the truth. A grave injustice was done to our family, an injustice that broke us down, but you are the piece that will mend us and build us up, starting with the king,” Ramonda spoke.

You allowed her words to seep into your brain.

“How can I mend anything. I am not Wakandan.”

“Like hell you are not. Do you think you are Wakandan just by being born here, by being born with the blood in your veins? If that were the case all of the world is greatly mistaken of their heritage. You are not merely Wakandan because of blood, or birth but because of your heart, your soul. You were Wakandan when you put the happiness and prosperity if its people before your own happiness and prosperity. You are Wakandan when you embody the ways of our practices and teachings, you are Wakandan being true not only to the spirit of Bast herself but by being true to the land. All of which you have done since the day you got here and every day you continue to do so. You are Wakandan because even when your heart broke you chose the ways and people over your own wants, your own love. My child you are Wakanda,” Ramonda finished.

You smiled to yourself and looked up to the sky.

“But, you must stop running. You must forge ahead.”

You nodded and sighed again.

“You’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” Ramonda teased. You snorted and let out a laugh. A laugh you didn’t recognize. It had been so long since you last laughed—too long.

“Now, I am going to tell my son to stop pacing a hole in the floor of his office and to follow his heart and senses to you and you are going to sit here looking as beautiful as ever and forge ahead,” she ordered. You smiled and nervously nodded.

Ramonda stood and gently touched your forehead before she walked away back inside the palace leaving you alone again in the garden. You took another deep breath realizing your heart was not pounding at a maddening pace.

“Relax Y/N, relax,” you calmly recited.

You sat there running through the endless possibilities in your head at break neck speed. You went through tens of scenarios all ending differently, but all evoked the same feelings in you. You felt as if you were going to pass out from the anticipation and the unknown. You wondered if he still felt the same way, wondered if any part of him still wanted you. You wondered if everything had changed for him. You worried about so many of his feelings or lack there of that after ten minutes you began pacing the stone walkway in the garden obsessing over it all.

“Y/N.”

You quickly spun around with a distressed look on your face to see Okoye standing there.

“Okoye.”

“Was I interrupting?”

“No, no. Well yes but I'm grateful. I was going down an endless rabbit hole of what ifs and it had to stop, so thank you,” you said as she approached you.

“Are you all right?” You nodded only lying partially.

“Okoye, i wanted to thank you for today, thank you for all you have done in this crazy scheme of mine,” you began.

Okoye smiled a rare smile that paused you.

“I was happy to help Y/N. I should be thanking you for saving me from a fate worse than death if I had married W’Kabi,” she said with a look of disgust on her face.

“I still can’t believe his part in all this,” you added.

“Neither can I, I never suspected and I feel like such a fool,” she continued. You took her hand gently.

“Okoye, you are not a fool. He was simply good at covering his tracks, they all were. So if you are a fool so is the rest of Wakanda, the king included,” you teased.

Okoye smiled again.

“Well I have always been convinced the king was a fool, and was further proved right watching him these last years,” Okoye laughed, a laugh you joined in on.

“Speaking of the king, I have something for you,” she said holding out an envelope with the Wakandan king’s seal.

You took the envelope and stared at it.

“The staff have prepared your old bedroom for you,” Okoye informed. You nodded and watched her turn and begin to walk back inside the palace. Before she walked inside she stooped and looked back to you.

“Y/N,” Okoye began. You looked to her.

“He is lucky to have you.” Okoye said then the corner inside the palace.

You stood there for a few more minutes before you decided against opening it. Instead you walked back inside the palace toward your bedroom contemplating what he’d written in the envelope.

Once you were safely behind your familiar doors you looked around and took in your surroundings. Everything looked the same as if nothing had been touched. The walls were still the way you’d requested, as was the decor. You leaned your back against the door and pressed the envelope to your chest willing your heart to slow.

After a few moments, you walked further into the room toward the window at the moon shining in. You stood there and unsealed the envelope to open the king’s stationary.

“Wakanda owes you a debt.”

Short and simple, short and mysterious in meaning. You looked at the back of the card bu there was nothing else written. Confusion began to rise as you realized he was most likely not going to meet you tonight.

You put the card down on your desk and looked around the room again. You walked to your bed and softly traced your hand along the patterned duvet to one of the posts. You walked around the room taking in everything. You didn’t know how much you missed this until just now. You’d missed it greatly. you walked into the bathroom and began filling the copper claw-foot tub. You’d missed this tub. While it was old fashioned it was decked out with modern luxuries. At the touch of a button it could be transformed into a luxurious whirlpool, jetted spa escape filled with over fifteen massage patterns. This bad boy was the reason you’d been changed to a bath lover again after nearly a lifetime of preferring showers. Now you spent hours upon hours sitting in this tub.

You began undressing out of the Dora uniform and filled the tub with the luxuries you loved, essential oils, flower petals, bath salts, a special blended soap that produced the most exhilarating bubbles that some how worked to easily melt away any stress leaving you and your body in the most amazing state of relaxation. You couldn’t wait.

As you walked around the bathroom preparing things for your bath you did your best to not think about anything or anyone. If you thought anymore your head would burst. Once you’d freed yourself and only had your bra and underwear on you swirled your hand in the water to test the temperature was right. Smiling you began to rise but was struck back down by a kick to the back of your calf. You dropped back to the hard floor. Before you could turn to see who or what it was the mystery intruder grabbed your head and pushed it into the tub submerging your head under the water. You screamed in the water which produced no sound. It only brought water into your nose and lungs. You flailed your arms around behind you trying to grab the person. Every time your hand made connection to a garment of clothes they pulled away and sunk your head even further under the water.

After a minute of struggle your actions slowed, your head became heavy, your vision became speckled with bright lights. Your logic told you that you were running out of time. You tried your best to think about your immediate surroundings. You stopped trying to grab the intruder and began to reach for the retractable shower head that was attached to the tub your plan clear in your head. It was difficult to maneuver as your actions slowed more and you felt yourself begin to involuntarily convulse. In the recesses of your mind you knew you only had seconds. Your hands grasped the shower head but it was stuck. You yanked as hard as you could freeing the retractable cord. Gripping it you swung it back behind you and heard an enraged grunt. The action gave you a few seconds of reprieve. You pulled your head out the water and gasped for the precious commodity you desperately needed.

Again you felt the intruder trying to overtake you. You swung your head back connecting with their head. In an instant you felt dizziness ring through your head. Now you were righting two battles, lack of oxygen and dizziness, the odds were definitely stacked against you. You tried to get up but slipped on the flooded floor and dropped back down. You slid and spun around seeing Nakia standing there.

“Nakia?” you spoke in complete shock and confusion.

She dove to you but you ducked instead grabbing her calves and hoisted her up and over your head. You heard a loud crash and a scream. You spun around and saw Nakia splayed on the floor atop the broken the shards of the glass shower door. She groaned as she slowly rose to her hands and knees. She looked to you, blood dripping from several cuts on her face. She looked like pure rage.

“How did you get free?”

“I’ve lived in this place longer than you. I know every hidden tunnel and path. I’ve always known how to get in here. I could have killed you any time I wanted but a Queen doesn’t dirty her hands. She watches as other do her bidding, but now you have pissed me off and if you want something done right you have to do it yourself,” Nakia spat before she dove for you. She landed on top of you tackling you to the wet floor. She drew back her hand and landed a blow to your face. You struggled with her trying to overpower her. You rolled on top of her and punched her three times before she rolled to reclaim the upper hand. She managed to get her hands around you neck and began to squeeze.

“You thought I would just let you win? Did you really think I would just give up and go to the island? You are even dumber than I thought. You will never have him, you will never have Wakanda.”

You gagged and pushed your hands between hers and pushed them apart forcing her to release your neck. A move T’Challa showed you in one of your many sparring matches. You wasted no time grabbing her wrists and twisting them. She screamed loudly and you kicked her off of you over your head into the wooden panel along the wall. You rolled to your knees quickly watching her every move. It was past reasoning with her. There was no reasoning with her. No granting her mercy, nothing would work. Nakia stood up wiping the blood from her mouth. You stood and stared at her, expecting the worst, preparing for it.

Nakia took up a crystal candle holder and charged to you attempting to strike you. You evaded every attempt recognizing she was no longer strategizing, she was attacking on pure rage. She was at her weakest. You took the opportunity to punch her, but she pushed you on the wall and returned the hit. You sunk down and slid through her opened legs. You turned in time to see her coming for you, you kicked out the vanity stool to her forcing her to trip over it. You hurried to the door but saw it was locked from the outside. Nakia wrapped her arm around your neck placing you in a choke-hold.

“No escape, only through death.”

You elbowed her feeling your anger rise to the dangerous level. You turned and kicked her in her gut. She staggered backwards and tried to unsuccessfully evade your onslaught of hits. Each of your hits landed with precision. You felt stronger than you had in a long time. You took a deep breath in and charged Nakia. She landed on the hard floor with a loud thud. You wrapped your hands around her neck and squeezed with all your strength. She gagged and tried to pry your hands free. The fear in her eyes rose and it filled you with even more strength, it was intoxicating. You heard your Kimoyo beads ring from across the room. In the commotion they must have fallen off. In your distracted stare Nakia managed to grab a sliver of the broken glass and slash your collar. You drew back from the pain, she took the opportunity to roll on top of you and inch the glass closer to your jugular.

Every second she inched closer and closer, you struggled back and forth with her strength. When she gained an inch you pushed her back an inch only for the cycle to continue back and forth. You groaned as you saw the glass mere centimeters from your skin. Nakia smiled sinisterly as she kept her eye on the prize, your neck. You felt the sharp edge of the glass puncture your neck, pain rang through you and alarm filled you. You fought against the urge to panic, instead you released one hand to reach for the large shard you saw to the side. The action gave Nakia more leeway to sink her shard further into your neck. You gagged tasting your blood in your throat. You quickly lunged to the shard allowing the glass to sink a few more centimeters into your skin. It was the only way. You grabbed the shard and quickly slammed Nakia to her back and rammed the glass into her chest. Nakia gasped out in shock, but her actions into stop. She reached for a smaller piece of the glass and stabbed it into your abdomen. You gasped and convulsed taking in the impact and the pain of the object.

“You—will not—have—him,” Nakia stuttered out.

You raised your mouth into a vindictive snarl.

“Neither will you!” You shouted and pulled the glass from her chest to ram it into her chest again. You repeated the action two more times, on the final stab you sunk it into her heart. Nakia gurgled her blood oozing from her mouth as she stared at you, all her actions seized. You heard her cough and release her last terrorizing breath.

You sat atop her waiting for her to spring back up like the horror show she was, but after almost thirty seconds of no movement you let go of the shard of glass still sticking from her chest. Your bloodied hands violently shook and weakness overtook you. You toppled of her to the blood covered floor and began gasping for air. You reached your hand to your neck and felt the glass still protruding from your throat. You heard pounding at the door but it was too far for you to make it there. You’d never make it. Your hand slowly traveled to the second piece of glass sticking out from your abdomen and felt tears sting your eyes as reality crept in. Reality was you were dying, reality was Nakia had finally gotten what she wanted, reality was you’d now killed two people. Reality was that these were your last moments. You stared into the ceiling at a replica of the Wakandan night sky and saw a bright light creep in from the corners of your eyes. You heard a loud snap and shrieks of horror before scuffling footsteps. You heard your name as if it was someone far away and it was then T’Challa dropped to your side with a haunted look on his face.

Everything moved in slow motion and you heard nothing but muffled voices. T’Challa hesitated touching you as he examined your body. When his eyes landed on the glass protruding from your neck the look on his face spoke of fear. Your reality had finally registered with him. T’Challa looked away from you and shouted. You felt the trickles of his tears drip on your cheek and a deep sorrow filled you. You slowly lifted your hand to his face. You traced your bleeding hand along his cheek, down to his jaw. There was so much to say but no time, you opened your mouth to speak but no sound came out.

Fresh tears streamed down your face as you realized this was your last moment with him. T’Challa clasped his hand over yours and nuzzled his face into your palm, but you didn’t feel it. You’d read somewhere that when you were dying your senses would slowly fade. You could not smell him, you could not hear him, nor could you taste the blood you knew filled your throat and mouth. You saw his lips move but the light that was at the corners of your eyes now took over and with that, your sight went.

To Be Continued...

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Author’s AFTER-NOTE: Are y'all OK?

[ralfstrashcan]

3x16 Reaction / Commentary

Alec “Proud Puppy” Lightwood

THAT FACE HAHA. Also crêpes man I'm jealous.

Rude man, don't rip him away from his hard earned waffles.

This is so hilarious to me, okay, this prompting hand flick Alec does (which you can't see here because I can't gif, only screenshot ahahaha) man I love it. Sadly I didn't find a gif of this yet, so I can't put one :( I can't even put into words why it's so hilarious to me. And Magnus's sceptical gaze hahaha.

Edit: I FOUND ONE

HAHAHA HELL YEAH

I mean we all knew this was fake, not least because it implies Magnus is wearing the same outfit two days in a row and obviously this would NEVER happen, but also because in no universe does Alec have smooth dance moves. It's a law of nature.

lol is this an innuendo or something because I don't get it, pls help

Tiny waist touch is spotted and highly appreciated.

That scene transition was brilliant and there is nothing else to say about it. I lost count of how many times I've rewatched it because it's awesome. The way Alec's voice sounds slighty off, the way Magnus gets heavier in his arms, the way everything spins out of focus, and Alec's last “Stay with me” sounds almost hard with urgency.

When I first saw this I was legit yelling at the screen why the hell Alec is just shaking him instead of, idk, doing CPR but I did him a grave injustice there because he actually does and I really appreciate that. (Though, if he learned first aid I wonder all the more about 3x12 (or was it 3x13, I lost count lol) where he just lets Sentry Guy die without even trying to save him.)

That being said, I'm really happy we got to see the immediate aftershocks of it because I was half afraid this episode would just start with Magnus in the infirmary bed. Still, I have a question. Who called Catarina? Izzy? Because why is she then so shocked when she learns Magnus is not breathing? When she presumably first entered the room to receive the instruction to call Catarina, did she not... wonder why Alec was cpr-ing him? Or did Magnus not immediately stop breathing after collapsing but just, faded slowly while Alec had already told Izzy to call Catarina? I kinda wanna know the mechanics here.

I mean, no surprise there if you keep killing them?? Ahahaha.

My fangirl brain: What, General Amaya from the Dragon Prince is gonna appear? Sign me the hell up!!!! My rest-brain catching up: No this is not a crossover and no, r is not y and just, no. My fangirl brain: :<

........ignoring the fact that summoning her is super stupid, there's also the tiny detail that they don't have leverage why would she help them are they just gonna say “pretty please”?? I can't believe them.

lol Bohemian if you see this, this panel is only for you to haunt your dreams XD hehehe sorry sorry but I just couldn't resist XD

Wtf I can't believe those words just came out of his mouth. Jace, you're gonna start with a pep talk? You were possessed and forced to do things against your will, you should know better than this. Honestly.

The way his voice goes up, just kill me now.

THIS DETAIL OH MY GOD

I absolutely loved this scene, in terms of acting it was perfect and it was painfully in character for Alec to blame himself for everything that's not going alright with someone he loves. The problem I have however (because come on, there's always a problem with me) is that they genuinely want to tell me that Alec didn't realize Magnus was faking it? Magnus loses his magic and he “doesn't think twice”? I mean, that's either really really insensitive or really really stupid. And Alec might be insensitive sometimes, but not like that and he surely isn't that stupid. So, uh, I don't really like that bit. Again, if he was secretly happy that Magnus's immortality is gone that's one more thing to feel intensely shitty about, I get that, but being secretly glad how things turned out and not realizing the other person is suffering from how things turned out are two entirely different things. And just, tf Alec. He can't possibly be that dense, can he, that he genuinely thought Magnus was okay with this. Even if he thought this was something Magnus could get used to in the long run, he didn't expect him to need some kind of settling-in period? Really??

HELL YEAH I STAN CAT SO HARD IN THIS SCENE. And I'm so glad she's the voice of reason in this.... after deigning to appear at long effing last ahahaha sorry not sorry for that dig XD Look it's not her fault, it's the screen writers'.

I got a soft spot for Simon calling her Fray. Also, high-key loving how they're all sitting there waiting for news and finally acknowledging that something's up with Magnus.

LOL CLARY TELL US HOW YOU REALLY FEEL. Kidding. It was the Evil Rune at work again, even though she's nowhere near fire. Maybe it was the hypnotic neon lights? In any case, this is becoming a real problem lol. (No, tbh I found that outbreak totally hilarious XD)

.............................*sigh* I mean, your fierce determination doesn't change the fact that this plan is doomed to fail and you still don't have any leverage over Lilith, but sure. Go off.

YEAH BECAUSE AS SHE PROVED SHE HAS COMMON SENSE. Though I really hope she also told Alec about this dumb-ass request by his dumb-ass parabatai so he can intervene. But, tbh I don't really expect that to happen. *sigh*

Kill herself and then revive herself, hoping a short moment of death is enough to severe the connection? Or maybe, uh, try to use her rune power to cancel her Evil Rune instead of summoning Lilith??? Just for starters.

WTF I CAN'T BELIEVE I'D SEE THE DAY WHERE  J A C E  IS THE VOICE OF REASON WTF COLOR ME IMPRESSED I LOVE IT

“See, I infused it with a strong dose of Plot Convenience, so that shouldn't be an issue.”

THE PORTRAIT IN THE BACKGROUND HAHAHAHAHAHA

“Why? Why do you hate him so much?” “It's simple. All my life I've had to sit by and watch...”

Thanks for 100% confirming my headcanon, I do love that :)

BAM!!!

I really like the detail that he's so out of breath from the magic, it shows that it was probably more harmful that just a shove back? Oh the questions I want to ask.....

Bitch you're 484 don't round down so much hahaha

Is Lorenzo actually gonna be swayed by this????????????????????? uh

Edit: Ahahaha we later learn he actually is and obviously I had to write a ficlet about it, so uuuuh whatever I'll put it at the end with all my other shameless self promo I'll include in this thing XD

OH YEAH I remember the “Different outfits for different occasions” comment from 2x19 I wonder what she'll wear? The same, or even older??? Btw why does she share a smile with Meliorn as if this is a private joke? Because, like, it isn't.

I mean that's touching and all, but that doesn't change the fact that Lilith loves you and seeing you dead would absolutely tear her apart, thus making this a fitting revenge. Wtf Jonathan this is no sound counterargument.

Hm. Tbh I liked her youngest self best? But she's still cast very well. And I recognize that her talking face to face with Jonathan would have been a little ridic if she only reached his navel XD

Ugh, Bohemian, can you see me rolling my eyes?

lol at least this was funny

OMG Luke could you be any more dramatic, are you actually kidding me. I'm gonna be sick soon if you don't cut the bs.

Wow the first sign of Sizzy that didn't suck, yay! XD this was actually pretty sweet.

Oh you mean that time that Raphael was feeding on her and they were indulging in mutual addiction? Because as soon as Izzy was clean she steered clear of Raphael.

..............................................what happened to “scumbag ex”? Why am I even asking?

?? Yeah? What happened to “While Saia lasted it was the best thing ever?” Then again that was what, three episodes ago? Can't hold him accountable for something that happened so long ago, right.

Hahaha okay that was cute.

1) LOL how hilarious would it be if they summon Lilith and just get her corpse plus Jonathan holding the sword still sticking out of her chest. 2) Jonathan is a true sadist, making her wear those heels. 3) Who's that wheelchair for? I mean, Lilith designed this apartment for her disciples, right?

.................which she doesn't need, since she's no warlock and her powers come from her angel blood, not ley lines. So, points for trying, show, but please don't mix up your races. Makes you look so unprofessional. (Except if this is a hint that shadowhunters also run on ley line energy, have ley line magic flowing through them etc. but honestly I'm not even entertaining the thought because then I'd have a conniption.)

Wtf it's literally standing twenty seconds of intense mindnumbing pain, why the hell would you need a coach for that? Just hold it together and endure it. Also, if they attempt it, 20 bucks say he'll die for some dramatic Sizzy “Oh shit you could really have died, too” moment.

Awww you can really see the love in that touch. <--- sarcasm.

Awww you can really see the love in that touch. <--- no sarcasm.

Honestly, Magnus's touch is natural and familiar (btw love the uncoordinated grabbing) while Alec turns Magnus's chin as if he's trying to make as little physical contact as humanly possible. Is a hand on his cheek really too much to ask for? *sigh*

lol you'd think he'd start with that immediately after Magnus wakes up instead of taking risks (it's what I would have done) but whatever.

He's.... actually there to help? For free? Or is Alec gonna have to hand over the Institute's keys to him when the job is done? Lol. (Also that suit jacket could be straight out of Magnus's closet.)

Oh my God Alec just say he could die. Why sugarcoat it? Say it how it is, and Magnus might listen to you.

.........yeah. This is so relatable and I love how he delivers this line. The desperation is clear, but he's also determined about it. Also, quick question, why didn't Alec get Catarina to be there when Magnus wakes up instead of Lorenzo? I'm not saying it would have changed the outcome but it might just have made Magnus feel less shitty about being exposed to his nemesis in this weak state. Then again I get it, Alec is running on panic and instinct, so consideration is the last thing on his mind.

This scene was amazing. Or, lol, this part of the scene. Magnus's performance is stellar and FYI the next thing he says, the “Look at me! Can you honestly say you like this?” was improvised and that's just ugh so good. Coincidentally this is also where my issues with this scene begin. They're not about how the characters act, I found that part very very fitting; it's meta.

The issue Magnus is having isn't about some fear that Alec won't love him anymore now that he doesn't have his magic anymore. Magnus is projecting. His issue lies within himself. He feels differently about himself, he can't say he likes this, and it's only in conclusion that he assumes it must be the same for Alec. But Alec isn't the root of this issue. But of course it's easier to pretend it's about Alec than to openly admit his severe self-image issues, so that's what Magnus does. Perfectly ic to me. The problem I have here is that if we take what Magnus says at face value it appears that Magnus only wants his magic back so Alec will keep loving him (sidenote: even more if you cross out Harry's addition and just focus on the “You fell in love with the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Can you honestly say you don't feel differently about me?”) and the solution to that is clear: Alec drops some wedding vows, problem solved.

But that's not the problem here. Magnus would literally rather be dead than without his magic and no amount of Alec waxing poetry about him is going to change that. And honestly, I'm so grateful for Harry's addition because that made it abundantly clear to me that Magnus is projecting. His bewildered “Can you honestly say you like this?” is an admittance of “I see what I am now and I can't bear it, so how could you?” If that scene had been about Alec, that would have been so uncalled for.

And also loooool but uuuuuuhhh I found Alec's speech less than impressive? I'm sorry, I know he tried but it just didn't work for me? I felt like it really wasn't up to his usual par. Lol I honestly rolled my eyes when he started about the spark that lights up the room XD It felt impersonal, kinda. It's hard to describe. Of course I can cut him some slack on that, because he was emotionally severely overchallenged in that moment and had to make it up on the fly, but uh. Yeah.

Anyway what I really didn't like was his closing line because it kinda sounded as if he was making that decision for Magnus and that's not his place. It might be dangerous and stupid and “not worth the risk” but Magnus isn't in a place where he should have his authority revoked, so. Kept from gambling with his life, yes. With sound arguments and empathy, yes. With dictation, no. So that didn't go over too well with me. Anyway I channeled that into a ficlet already, too, which I'm also advertising at the end.

......has she just been sitting there for six episodes? Btw I wonder, if Jonathan is happily manipulating Lilith by faking positive emotions towards her I don't get why he totally fell for it every time Clary did the exact same thing to him.

THAT MALICIOUS SMILE HAHAHA THE LITTLE (S)ASS

1) SO SHE'S LITERALLY BEEN SITTING THERE FOR SIX EPISODES?!?!!?!?!

2) Why hello there Plot Point XD srsly why tf would Asmodeus use Magnus's magic instead of his own if, need I remind you, his own demonic magic is stronger than Magnus's, Magnus's wasn't even enough to destroy her demonic possession on Jace.... so why would Magnus's magic be enough to bind Lilith, the mother of that possession, to a room? Uh, lemme guess... Plot Convenience? So when, theory time!, Lilith is slayed he has no need for it anymore and can return it to Magnus?

“...to kill you while you were weakened.”

WOW WHAT A DELIVERY AMAZING

........I gotta be honest, I was really confused at his submissive behavior but then I realized... they have a 10 year history of these mechanisms, and slipping back into the pattern of things must be so easy. Also, I mean, that paints a really wonderful and peaceful image of his formative years, right?

Jimon Shipper Moment <3 ;) Look I don't even ship it, but their bickering is high-key amusing to me.

Instead of just standing between them from the get go? Why?

?????? I guess the incest runs in the family, pun not intended?????? Btw Jonathan's weird incest-y obsession makes so much sense now. If this is literally the only way he ever learned how “familial love” (Lilith Greater Demon Edition) is expressed I have no questions anymore. Seriously, he's so screwed over by everyone and it's just unfair. (On that note, glad we never had to see him make out with Valentine. Some things are just too terrible to envision. Damn, why did I say that, I should just shut up for all of our sakes.) Anyway, back to our favorite tortured soul here, I'm honestly not even sure if I can hold the incest thing against him any longer. His entire life consisted of being raised by Valentine, who kept him in a hut in the woods where he never got to see anyone but him, and then Edom where there was Lilith and demons. It makes a horrifying amount of sense that normal human norms mean nothing to him. He's never lived them, he's never witnessed them and maybe he doesn't even know them. So yeah. I guess I'll just add the incest thing on the long long list of things that are due to the stellar parenting he enjoyed, and not entirely his fault.

Damn so close to see my prognosis come true. Then again, I guess this was just the perfect timing because who knows if Lilith won't even help them now kill Jonathan because betrayal bla bla.

1) No need to twist the knife, then again this is Lorenzo so what am I even expecting.

2) WTF ARE THEY REALLY NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT THIS SOME MORE?!?!?!??!?!

3) If it's like a transplanted organ being rejected by the body, just, idk, look for a different warlock whose magic fits Magnus better? There must be tests for that kind of thing? And even if there isn't, if you go slow and don't immediately portal all over the world plus end an encanto-coma you should be able to tell the magic doesn't fit pretty quickly without going into cardiac arrest. Magnus only got some nosebleed at first, remember, and it got worse only because he didn't slow down. I'm just saying, there would be Ways.

Wow I never realized before that he's actually got an undercut. Makes his hairstyle look even stupider.

Wow I believe this even less now than I did in 3x12.

“Let's hug in these trying times, but please make sure your face doesn't touch mine, otherwise people might draw the absurd and outrageous conclusion that we're in a relationship or something.”

Honestly. Their portrayal of casual intimacy is abysmal and I hate it.

1) The infirmary is very weird and open space for a place that should be easily closable if you need to contain, idk, sick people and their viruses and keep it sanitary. 2) I've been wondering since the start of the episode, did Lorenzo's pony tail get shorter? Wasn't it longer before? 3) At least Malec managed to make their feet intersect minimally, so yay for small mercies.

“One dose of Plot Convenience, coming right up.”

They're just.... gonna torture her? Really? I don't even have words for this. Oh no, I do:

Seriously. It's as if morality isn't a thing, and torturing a sentient being isn't always and under all circumstances a Wrong and Bad thing to do. Because clearly if the person receiving torture is just Evil Enough then it's okay. Thanks for standing by and doing nothing Simon, this is exactly the reason I hate your inconsistent streak on this matter. I don't even expect better from the born shadowhunters, and Clary is way to un-reflected to even twitch but. Ugh. Why am I even wasting my breath (my typing capacity?) on this. It's pointless.

Wow this is pointless, too. I mean, why is Izzy not interfering? She literally just fell down. She shouldn't be out of comission by this. Ugh.

Also ugh to Izzy slinging her whip around his hand instead of, idk, his whole upper body and his arms.

Also ugh to Simon waiting to attack Jonathan until the last second as a heroic saving move to save Izzy which, ugh.

But this here

#AwkwardGrownUpSquad

I'm honestly lol'ing so hard right now. Hahahaha this is just hilarious to me. Then again, who knows, maybe now they'll team up with Jonathan to kill Lilith and I'll get my hopes up again for a redemption arc XD

......................HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Btw I bet you she copied that move from Doctor Strange.

lol another thing I didn't see coming.

1) Hello Hannibal lol 2) Who went in there and put restraints on him? 3) Who's gonna pay that Seelie actress now??

This scene was actually nice? I know, I'm surprised myself.

How convenient. I mean, good thing he didn't say “Glorious” otherwise Izzy might have thought he was asking for that one ESC song to be played at his funeral.

Please, Maryse, don't flatter yourself, all you had to do was scratch Elliot's corpse from the floor boards, the rest was already completely furnished.

..................................................................................................................bye

Look, while part of me is undeniably thrilled at the prospect – because while I was totally rooting for a Malec Wedding I was pretty sure it was an unachievable dream, just like hoping for Sheith – this is exactly what I mean with taking things at face value. Alec takes Magnus at his words (that he has doubts Alec will still love him now that he lost his powers) and so he thinks that a grand gesture of commitment will fix it.

But it won't, because that's not the problem. Or at least I hope it's not the problem, I mean if I lost my arm my main worry would be “Holy shit how am I gonna cope without my trusty appendage” not “What are the neighbors gonna think? Will I still be able to rock my favorite outfit without that limb?”

Anyway. I don't think this'll go over too well at this point in time. And honestly, Alec just realized at the beginning of this episode that he was fooled by Magnus's coping facade and tricked into thinking Magnus would be fine without his magic. And now Magnus has lost is magic again and Alec just... makes the same mistake again, blindly believing the words coming out of Magnus's mouth instead of taking a look for himself and seeing how Magnus is faring? Did he learn nothing from this? Alec. Why are you like this.

Anyway, conclusion time: This episode was way more reasonably paced than the last, the shit decision making was kept to a minimum (except for the part where they, y'know, summon Lilith back to earth) and Jace gets a diligence starlet for displaying common sense.

And now, self advertisement time! I wrote three ficlets: a) a continuation of the scene with Alec and Lorenzo b) a gap-bridging Malec scene set after the “I won't lose you” line and finally c) a what-I'd-like-to-see-happen-in-3x17-fic where Alec tells Izzy about his proposal plans.

I'd be thrilled if you checked one of them out. Until next time XD

(Gif Source)

[dfroza]

the body has become the Temple of the Spirit of our Creator

and we carry this treasure of Light in our ordinary selves, becoming weathered & worn on the outside, yet continually renewed deep within.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 6th chapter of the Letter of First Corinthians where Paul begins with stating his case of resolving disputes among believers and concludes with the topic of sex:

Furthermore, how dare you take a fellow believer to court! It is wrong to drag him before the unrighteous to settle a legal dispute. Isn’t it better to take him before God’s holy believers to settle the matter? Don’t you realize that we, the holy ones, will judge the universe? If the unbelieving world is under your jurisdiction, you should be fully competent to settle these trivial lawsuits among yourselves. For surely you know that we will one day judge angels, let alone these everyday matters. Don’t you realize that you are bringing your issues before civil judges appointed by people who have no standing within the church? What a shame that there is not one within the church who has the spirit of wisdom who could arbitrate these disputes and reconcile the offended parties! It’s not right for a believer to sue a fellow believer—and especially to bring it before the unbelievers.

Don���t you realize that when you drag another believer into court you’re providing the evidence that you are already defeated? Wouldn’t it be better to accept the fact that someone is trying to cheat and take advantage of you, and simply choose the high road? At times it is better to just accept injustice and even to let someone take advantage of you, rather than to expose our conflicts publicly before unbelievers. But instead you keep cheating and doing wrong to your brothers and sisters, and then request that unbelievers render their judgment!

Surely you must know that people who practice evil cannot possess God’s kingdom realm. Stop being deceived! People who continue to engage in sexual immorality, idolatry, adultery, sexual perversion, homosexuality, fraud, greed, drunkenness, verbal abuse, or extortion—these will not inherit God’s kingdom realm. It’s true that some of you once lived in those lifestyles, but now you have been purified from sin, made holy, and given a perfect standing before God—all because of the power of the name of the Lord Jesus, the Messiah, and through our union with the Spirit of our God.

It’s true that our freedom allows us to do anything, but that doesn’t mean that everything we do is good for us. I’m free to do as I choose, but I choose to never be enslaved to anything. Some have said, “I eat to live and I live to eat!” But God will do away with it all. The body was not created for illicit sex, but to serve and worship our Lord Jesus, who can fill the body with himself.

Now the God who raised up our Lord from the grave will awaken and raise us up through his mighty power!

Don’t you know that your bodies belong to Christ as his body parts? Should one presume to take the members of Christ’s body and make them into members of a harlot? Absolutely not! Aren’t you aware of the fact that when anyone sleeps with a prostitute he becomes a part of her, and she becomes a part of him? For it has been declared:

The two become a single body.

But the one who joins himself to the Lord is mingled into one spirit with him. This is why you must keep running away from sexual immorality. For every other sin a person commits is external to the body, but immorality involves sinning against your own body.

Have you forgotten that your body is now the sacred temple of the Spirit of Holiness, who lives in you? You don’t belong to yourself any longer, for the gift of God, the Holy Spirit, lives inside your sanctuary. You were God’s expensive purchase, paid for with tears of blood, so by all means, then, use your body to bring glory to God!

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 6 (The Passion Translation)

to be accompanied by these lines from The Message:

There’s more to sex than mere skin on skin. Sex is as much spiritual mystery as physical fact. As written in Scripture, “The two become one.” Since we want to become spiritually one with the Master, we must not pursue the kind of sex that avoids commitment and intimacy, leaving us more lonely than ever—the kind of sex that can never “become one.” There is a sense in which sexual sins are different from all others. In sexual sin we violate the sacredness of our own bodies, these bodies that were made for God-given and God-modeled love, for “becoming one” with another. Or didn’t you realize that your body is a sacred place, the place of the Holy Spirit? Don’t you see that you can’t live however you please, squandering what God paid such a high price for? The physical part of you is not some piece of property belonging to the spiritual part of you. God owns the whole works. So let people see God in and through your body.

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 6:16-20 (The Message)

our Creator designed sex and the human body made in the gender of both male & female which takes shape at the genesis spark of conception in the womb. sex forms two bodies into “One” body which is actually the marital bond of husband & wife and this is the only “safe” sex on earth, being a sacred bond of intimacy shared that is meant to remain faithful for a whole lifetime.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 41st chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah where God speaks of restoring his people and also speaking against idols of metal that some trust in:

Eternal One: Keep quiet and listen to Me, lands along the seacoast;

give the people of the nations a chance to regain their strength.

Let them come close, all together, to speak their minds and present their case;

let’s consider the facts and make a judgment.

Who brought up this eastern hero? Who called up his justice service?

He lays nations at his feet and makes an end of their kings.

With a thrust of his sword and the bend of his bow,

this hero turns kings and their armies into dust.

With agility and speed unmatched, he chases them down

and is himself unscathed, even though he is passing over unfamiliar land.

Who has performed these deeds and accomplished this purpose?

Who calls each generation into being from the first on down?

It is I, the Eternal One your God.

I am the first.

And to the very last, I am the One.

The lands along the seacoast have seen and are scared.

The ends of earth take to shaking and yet still they draw near.

They try to bolster each other up saying,

“Have courage, brother, have courage!”

Recognizing their mutual dependence, the artisan encourages the goldsmith;

the one who hammers the metal emboldens the one who welds,

Saying, “Looks good! Fine job!” and fastens the idols together with nails,

making it stand firm and stable.

Eternal One: But you, My servant, Israel,

Jacob whom I have chosen and descendant of My friend, Abraham,

I have reached to wherever you are in the farthest corners of earth,

and the most hidden places therein.

I have called to you and said, “You are my servant.

I have chosen you, not thrown you away!”

So don’t be afraid. I am here, with you;

don’t be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you, help you.

I am here with My right hand to make right and to hold you up.

Look, everyone who hated you and sought to do you wrong

will be embarrassed and confused.

Whoever challenged you with hot-headed bluster

will become as if they never were, and nevermore will be.

You may go looking for them, but you won’t find them;

because those who tried to fight with you will become as if they never were.

After all, it is I, the Eternal One your God,

who has hold of your right hand,

Who whispers in your ear, “Don’t be afraid. I will help you.”

So don’t be afraid, Jacob, though you are nothing but a worm.

People of Israel, you little bug, you have nothing to fear.

Eternal One: I will help you. I am One who saves you,

the Holy One of Israel.

I will turn you into a formidable threshing sledge

with brand new sharp blades that will mow down entire mountains

and turn the hills into chaff.

You will separate value from waste, and a great wind

and a strong storm will take away what is useless and unimportant.

You will take joy in the Eternal.

You will glow with pride in the Holy One of Israel.

And when people thirst, when those poor souls with parched tongues

look in vain for something to drink,

I, the Eternal, the God of Israel, won’t leave them to suffer. I will respond

By making the hard, brown hills sparkle with streams of fresh water

and causing valleys to come alive with springs.

I will see that gentle pools wait on the desert floor for the weary traveler,

and great fountains bubble up from dry ground;

In the desert, I will plant cedars, woody acacias,

myrtles, and olive trees.

I will establish great cypresses to flourish in the desert places,

plant oaks and pine trees side by side.

They’ll see all this and understand. They’ll ponder together

and come to know that it is the power of the Eternal One that produced this.

They will know that the Holy One of Israel created it.

Eternal One: Present your case. Lay out your arguments

and call your witnesses to appear before the King of Jacob.

Come on and bring your idols. Now tell us what is to come,

and while you’re at it, tell us what happened before.

Can you explain to us so that we, too, may understand?

Go ahead, tell us what the future holds.

Surely you can, if you are truly gods. Do good, or do bad.

Just do something—anything—to amaze or frighten us.

Sure enough, you are not gods; you are nothing at all.

You have nothing to show for your work or yourselves.

Fools! Only fools would choose you to be their god. Detestable.

Eternal One: I, the Lord, I have called up for service

one from the north, and he comes from the rising sun

and he will invoke My name.

He will render rulers like mud under his shoes,

trampling them down like so much clay.

Did any of you gods tell us about this long ago, so we would know?

Did any of you indicate to us that we might agree, “He is right”?

No, no one told us. No one made an announcement, and no one hears what you say.

I was the first to say to Zion, “Look, here they are!”

I sent a messenger to announce the good news to Jerusalem.

But I am looking, and there isn’t anyone.

I have asked around, and no one knows, no one can tell Me.

See here, all of these so-called gods are false;

their works are nothing;

These cast-metal images are like wind, sheer emptiness.

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 41 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for monday, july 19 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons that takes a look at divine hope:

Shalom chaverim. This week we will study parashat Vaetchanan (Deut. 3:23-7:11), a rich Torah portion that includes some of the most foundational texts of the Jewish Scriptures, including the Ten Commandments, the Shema (the duty to love God and study His Torah), as well as the commandments of tefillin and mezuzot. In addition, in this portion Moses predicted the worldwide exile and the eventual redemption of the Jewish people in acharit hayamim (the prophesied "End of Days").

We always read this Torah portion on the Sabbath that follows the fast of Tishah B'Av, called Shabbat Nachamu (שבת נחמו), the "Sabbath of Comfort," since the haftarah speaks about God's future consolation in the coming kingdom of God ("Comfort, O comfort, my people [Isa. 40:1]). With the advent of this special Sabbath, we have just seven weeks to prepare for the new year (i.e, Yom Teruah or “Rosh Hashanah”) and the High Holidays - a “jubilee” season that heralds the return of Yeshua... In addition to our Torah readings, on the 15th day of the month of Av we observe chag ha-ahavah (חַג הָאַהֲבָה), or "the holiday of love." Since it marks the "last" festival of the Jewish year, prophetically the 15th of Av (called Tu B’Av) pictures our marriage to the Lamb of God (Seh Elohim), the LORD Yeshua our beloved Messiah. On a soon-coming day those who belong to the LORD and are faithful to follow His ways will be blessed with the unspeakable joy of an eternally intimate relationship with Him. This is heaven itself - to be in the Presence of the LORD and to be regarded as His beloved (Rev. 19:6-9). Maranatha. [Hebrew for Christians]

7.19.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

July 19, 2021

When the Foundations Are Destroyed

“If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?” (Psalm 11:3)

The word here for “foundations” is not the usual word for, say, a building foundation. Used rarely, a better translation of this word would be “purpose,” or “basis.” The fear expressed is not that the foundations of our faith might be undermined but that we might lose our sense of purpose.

In the context of the psalm, David was in danger of becoming demoralized by the pressures of wicked desires and evil ambitions all around him, and Christians surely have the same problem today. Why should we try to maintain high standards of doctrinal integrity and moral purity when the people around us—even most Christians—seem to be occupied mostly with materialistic ambition and pursuit of pleasure? If we allow the devil to undermine the very purposes God has for our lives, wandering away from His will in favor of some temporal interest, then why even continue with a pretense of Christian living?

David’s solution was simply to remind himself that “the LORD is in his holy temple, the LORD’s throne is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men” (v. 4). He may allow the righteous to be tried for a season, but we must not forget that “the righteous LORD loveth righteousness” (v. 7) and that “the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth” (v. 5).

When we are tempted to wonder whether it is really worth all the effort, and when our very foundation and purpose for living seems to be crumbling, we should remember that our God is Creator, Sustainer, and Judge of all—that He still is on His throne, and that we who belong to Him have been “predestinated according to the purpose of him who worketh all things after the counsel of his own will” (Ephesians 1:11). HMM

[crossoverglobaloutreach]

PEACE FOR THE FRAY

Recently, some confounding situations defied reason and plagued our understanding in respect to close, dear folks suffering grave injustices at the hands of the judicial system. Simple matters of common sense, integrity, righteous judgment and justice should easily have prevailed on their behalf, but no. In our shared despair, biblical encouragement was given along with prayer, asking God for needed words of understanding to see them through that would help “guard their hearts and minds in peace through Christ Jesus.” With having this scripture at heart from Phil.4:6-7 the Lord brought my attention to a fragment I had overlooked, “…the peace of God, which surpasses (exceeds, overdoes, overrides) all understanding” …and even in the face of no understanding.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus” (Phil.4:6-7).

What followed, was in my view, a healthy understanding from the Lord for the times we find ourselves in, when a further word of understanding is not always forthcoming from the Lord. This is not always for lack of asking Him - “You receive not because you ask not.” There are just those times where we are left with a deafening quiet that makes us think we are unheard… maybe forsaken. At this point, we could foolishly start picking daisies with saying, “He loves me, He loves me not…!” And, tragically begin to lose faith and the standard we have held in following Him passionately. Considering the Day we are in, with perversions of power mounting, love toward God comes under the threat of 'waxing cold'. However, there is an abounding grace, a divine enabling to act on from God in confronting sin’s increase for a greater and stronger faith that will see His glory! And Grace never seems to live alone in the New Testament, but is found in good company of her sister, Peace. Rom.1:7, “Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” This statement used in continual greeting of the saints throughout the epistles is not to be taken lightly.

Jesus in John 16 reiterates many things He has spoken from John 14-15. However, all is drawn up in chapter 16 with Jesus imparting to the disciples what will shortly come and what is meant to help them from “stumbling” (Jn.16:1). He then states, “They will put you out of the synagogues (or churches).” Next, “…the time is coming that whoever kills you will think that he offers God a service” (v.2). I’m not sure what part of this would keep them or me from stumbling, but let’s go on! He then tops this with, “But now I go away to Him who sent Me…” (v.5). At this point “no one asks Him where He is going” (v.5). Why? Because “their hearts are filled with sorrow” (v.6). He having more to say cannot, stating, “…you cannot bear them now” (v.12).

Now, I would be remiss to not bring the counterbalance Jesus shared here, as well, telling the disciples that when this occurs “you may remember that I told you” (v.4).  In other words, the road is mapped ahead of you so don’t think you’re lost or forsaken. And, “…it is to your advantage that I go away; for if I do not go away, the Helper (the Holy Spirit) will not come to you…” (v.7-15). Again, help is coming and “He will be with you and in you” (Jn.14:17). Lastly, Jesus completes the map yet to be written with what they will go through in mourning His death while the world rejoices, but that it would be turned to restored and permanent joy with seeing Him again (v.16-24). Once and for all, the Lord knows the end from our beginning, because He is the Beginning and the End; Alpha and Omega!  With all that has been “figurative” (v.25), like a dream we try to understand, they with receiving the Holy Spirit would then possess “the mind of Christ” to “discern all things rightly” (1 Cor.2:15-16).

Now, the prophetic map is set in detail for their lives at this juncture. Yet, a final plug is added for those voids of understanding when the enemy taunts, “Where is your God?” That plug is Jn.16:33 “These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”  His Peace is found with being in Him. He is in us to the end that we would be in Him. As the Prince of Peace, He is the plug keeping faith from draining from us, giving place to fear and anxiety; a peace to be abided in since He is more than the world.

“And this One shall be peace” (Mic.5:5). “He is our peace…” (Eph.2:14). “…Prince of Peace. Of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end…” (Isa.9:6b-7a).

“Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John14:27).

Oh, God has a map of our horizons that He overshadows. History is already written in the annals of Heaven and it is all chronicled beneath His-story. While we ask again for God’s transforming power to change our situations or another word of rescue, in the deafening quiet He may be asking us what has been transformed in our thinking that makes us any different than the world thinks? When so much of the Church remains conformed to this world; without sign, wonder and miracle, why should there be another fast fix that leaves little difference in His image among us? The Lord is not running a university or a college that gives a degree for what our head thinks to have learned. His is a trade school where we are called to leave our lives at the door to receive His. All must become hands-on experience from Him taking us to His higher thought and way that are not ours. I fear that even we who cherish the revelation of His Word, may find our understanding inconsequential in standing up to the pressures that are building at this time. Unless we are taking our understanding to the bank of His interest with us where our life’s currency is exchanged, the test of fire will surely burn it up. The fellowship of the disciples was bent on what they heard, saw, touched and handled of that eternal Word and Life. This they passed on to us to be our fellowship as well! The peace He gives is for the fray and pray, not the play and passe'. It is not passive, but active.

In the volume of the Lord’s thoughts and words, some are given as overtones, others as undertones, none without exceeding significance for walking with Him. The overtone would be the more prominent tone carried in the likeness of an instrument that first brings about a song, it’s melody. It is the song! To enrich the song, other instruments may be added: violins, cellos, trumpets, woodwinds… etc. each playing its own harmonious part in filling out the song masterfully. Its orchestral beauty makes it a song in want of never ending; unshakably branded in our hearts and minds. But if that one instrument (or voice) that holds the original melody should be removed, all else loses the line from which it was composed to fit.

My wife and I have led worship for years spending time going over songs new and old. From time to time, she’ll ask me if I remember a song that she begins to sing. Wonderingly, I’ve said to her, “I have no idea what that song is?” The conflict thus begins with her singing it again and me saying, “I’ve never heard it before!” Until I realize she is singing harmony (or the undertone) to the song, as she always has. It is not the melody itself, but the enrichment, the fill, the enhancement, so vital. Words of God bearing His overtone are the essence of our walk; they carry the “always, forever, every, surely…” factor. When understanding is not clear, the main melody remains as an anchor for our soul. Their endless ring are reminders to our spirit of an immovable place we have yet to abide in faith. He is in those words to be found and they are Him!

“For He Himself has said, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you’” (Heb.13:5a).

“For to be carnally minded is death, but to be spiritually minded is life and peace” (Rom.8:6).                          

“And we have known and believed the love that God has for us. God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him” (1 John4:16).                                  

“Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness."(Lam.3:22-23).

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever" (Ps.23:6).

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever" (Heb.13:8).

Saints, the witness of the Holy Spirit that first bypassed our natural mind to bring His salvation, continues to call our heart and mind to His peace where we trust, obey and discern our need to “…pull down imaginations, human reasoning, tearing down intellectual arguments and every lofty opinion that pits itself against the knowledge of the one true God, bringing every loose thought, emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ…” (2 Cor.10:4-5 DCV). This is for our forward!

“And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful” (Col.3:15).

“You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You” (Isa.26:3).

"For David says concerning Him: ‘I foresaw the Lord always before my face, for He is at my right hand, that I may not be shaken” (Acts 2:25).

- P. Dave Cosgrove