#I’m only hesitant because I feel like I may be shadow banned???

[oorangesoda]

Trying to decide if I post the comic tonight or tomorrow morning…

[otherworldlyrps]

𝖍𝖎𝖎 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 !! ♡ nothing like ringing in the new year with an updated permanent writing call !! my name is dana (25f) and i am eternally seeking solid 21+ partners for slice of life content on discord !! i am a multi-muse writer seeking all connections (mxf, mxm, fxf) all the time. ***note: i am very selective regarding mxm plots. i pen morally grey muses who originate from a variety of backgrounds and belong to a variety of age ranges. writing-wise, i am always seeking to capture life in all its beauty and wretchedness as closely as possible and, because of this, mature themes will present themselves throughout the course of my writing. ***please, please, p l e a s e read my guidelines for more information on this, as some of the content i touch on may be distressing/disturbing depending on one’s tolerance. i am seeking writers who are interested in creating constellations of sorts with our muses, ones that can then form an intricate, exciting universe for all our bbys. that being said, if you also enjoy playing out not just romantic connections but platonic/familial/work-related/etc. ones, i’m the writer for you !! pls see content below for more information: 

guidelines  |   my muses  |   ‘banned’ muse list

***D I S C L A I M E R S : i do NOT “double” so pls don’t ask !! in my experience, “doubling” almost always leads to unnecessary stress, pressure, and one story going neglected. additionally, i no longer collaborate with writers that only pen female and/or sub muses. PLEASE do not use me for my male muses, it’s extremely evident when someone is doing this and i don’t take to it kindly. all of this is non-negotiable territory for me. roleplaying should be a fun exercise in creativity, literacy, and leisure, that’s the whole point !! therefore, i am exclusively seeking writers who lovingly pen a strong, diverse array of muses and wish to bring engaging stories to life, collaboratively. mumus all the way ♡

i am always on the hunt for the following (this isn’t a comprehensive list):

age gaps. age gaps in all their glory, especially if it’s a younger man x older woman dynamic. exploring the excitement but also the struggles of individuals attempting to make something work whilst being in two completely different stages of life. 

forbidden relationships. for whatever reason, they shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t possibly be able to make it work, but that sure as hell doesn’t stop them from trying.

toxic lovers. the on-again-off-again lovers, the lovers who know that it would be the best for both of them to just let go but cannot find themselves doing so, the jealous, obsessive, the deranged, the bonnie and clydes, the generally unhinged intertwining themselves together. just, please. 

friends-to-lovers. this one speaks for itself !!

exes. see description above :) 

throuples, throuples, throuples baby !! i am mostly seeking an mxfxf, but i could also be swayed into mxfxm, fxfxf, and maybe an mxmxm (under very selective circumstances.)

growing pains. the agony that is the human existence, especially during the young adult years where everyone is just trying to orient themselves to what life is about. 

crime. cartels, mafias, gangs, the luxury but also the grime and danger that comes with operating underground, in the shadows of polite society.

apartment mumus. i can’t get enough of these !! any opportunities to integrate a diverse set of muses into one setting and play out their lives/how they intertwine, i am there for. 

if any of this captures your interest, please don’t hesitate to drop a lil ♡ below or feel free to reach out directly !!

[obae-me]

A Taste of His Own Medicine- Satan

While it was well known among the household that the second and fourth among the brothers were ill, Lucifer banned you from contact with Satan. Mammon was now well on the mend thanks to your efforts, so you figured you would help the eldest out with Satan. Lucifer was constantly busy, not to mention the fact that his knowledgeable younger brother was expending all his strength in keeping his brothers away. It seemed like the logical choice, and rarely did Lucifer prevent you from keeping an eye on his brothers. So why now of all times?

“He’s being...unreasonable,” was Lucifer’s answer. Out of all the possible reasons, this seemed among the most pathetic. You supposed it was better than his typical “because I said so” response.

“If I remember correctly, you were also pretty unreasonable,” you stated, a smirk curling across your lips. He just scowled, glaring you up and down. He leaned back in his cushy seat in his study, placing his much too expensive pen down by the pile of work he needed to finish by tonight.

“And if I remember correctly, we agreed it would not be discussed again.” His sharp expression softened just a touch, a light shade of pink gracing his cheeks as he recalled how you took care of him in his weakened state. He brushed staggering hairs away from his forehead and sighed, folding his arms in front of his chest. “His body and mind have been weakened, therefore he has no control over his anger. He is wrath, and I shudder to think what may befall you should you try to talk to him right now.” He looked deep into your eyes, taking note of your unwavering stance and stern composition. “And yet I suspect you’re going to go see him anyway.”

He had that right. So with a look equal parts exhaustion and worry, Lucifer lifted the magical lock placed on Satan’s room, ensuring that, at the very least, Beel would be just outside should anything happen.

You took a deep breath, clutching to your chest some medicine and a hardcover book from the human world containing old fables. You knocked on the door, loudly stating your presence before entering Satan’s room. You were pleased to find that so far you were unharmed, which was admittedly a great first step.

However, you quickly found yourself awash in a sea of books. Normally, Satan had his room as neatly organized as a professional library, everything had a place, except now, it looked like a bomb had gone off. Books and scrolls were haphazardly stacked, covering the floor, basically everywhere. You couldn’t even see his bed, it was hidden somewhere in this labyrinth of tomes.

You held your breath, you didn’t even dare breathe for fear everything around you would come tumbling down. The last thing you wanted was to be crushed to death, and if the books didn’t kill you, you had a wary feeling Satan might. So you carefully weaved your way through slender passageways in the piles before you found, what you assumed, was Satan’s bed.

The reason you could only ‘assume’ is because at this juncture in time it hardly looked like a bed at all. Just a quick glance and it would’ve matched any other mess in this room. It was camouflaged with more books, torn pages, binders, etc. you had a passing thought about checking if there were any shows about demon hoarders down here.

You could see a jagged green-tipped tail dangling from beneath the bed-pile. It twitched and flicked, sending some novels skidding across the floor. You inhaled deep through your nose.

“Satan? It’s me.”

Satan’s tail whipped across the space between you and the bed, striking at one of the impossibly high stacks of books, sending it teetering and tottering threateningly before crashing down. If you hadn’t taken a few steps back, you would’ve been under that pile. You huffed to yourself. You wanted to help him and this was how he was treating you?

“Satan, please.” A book whizzed past your head and you winced, feeling a little paper cut start to sting on your cheek. The air in the room was hot. You knew these were demons. You knew they were capable of destroying you in seconds, but that didn’t stop your stubborn nature from feeling absolutely offended. And so, as if you had a death wish, you scolded him.

“Satan!” You strutted over, throwing the covers back and sending even more clutter to the floor, but at least you could look at him. But a part of you wished you couldn’t.

He looked absolutely feral. His hair was messy and untamed. His teeth were bared as his mouth formed a menacing scowl. His eyes were glowing an unnatural green, reminding you of shows where beasts eyes shone in the shadows. You could hear a deep rumble emanate from his chest, and it wasn’t till he pressed himself against the back wall, knees close to his chest that you put your fear beside yourself.

Yes, at first glance you may have been entirely convinced he was going to tear your throat out, but then you ran your gaze over him a few times. His face was covered in patches of deep red. He was only wearing a green long-sleeved shirt and stripped boxers. There was a sheet of paper skewered onto one of his horns, and he now was curled up protectively against the wall in a little ball.

“Get out,” he demanded. It would’ve maybe been threatening sounding if his lungs didn’t sound as if he swallowed a squeaky toy. He was wheezing, fingertips shaking, and his tail protectively curling up against his legs, the tip of it quivering.

To be honest you wouldn’t leave this room right now for all the Grimm in the Devildom. “I’ll leave after I’m done helping you out a bit,” you assured him, but he didn’t want that answer.

“Get out!” He clutched another book in his hand and chucked it in your direction with a shout, this time missing you by a mile. You blinked. Was he...having a tantrum?

You had to stifle your smile with a little cough. “Satan, throwing stuff at me isn’t going to make me leave any faster, so cooperate and I’ll be out of here as soon as possible.” He had no retort or nearby ammo left so he tucked his face into his knees and let you get to work. It would take you hours to clean the room, but you did what you could for the moment, tidying up the chaos surrounding his bed. How he would’ve slept with that mess on him was beyond your understanding. Or maybe that was one of the reasons why he was being so cranky.

You shook off his blankets, puffed up his pillow, and then took a hesitant look at the medicine you’d put on his nightstand. Lucifer had told you where to get it, it was a powerful medication that tasted as bad as the one taking it felt. It was also administered as a liquid, because for all their power, they hadn’t made pills a normal thing yet. You had no idea how you were going to get Satan to take it.

Maybe being sweet first. “Satan,” you cooed, sitting yourself beside him on the bed while he remained curled up in a tight angry ball. “I have some medicin-“

“No.”

That didn’t work. Maybe begging? “Satan, please, please, please, pleaaaaase take-“

“Bite me.”

You scoffed aloud. He was absolutely, without a doubt, being bratty and rude. You took a moment to recall how you convinced Lucifer and Mammon. Lucifer was only won over when you stood your ground and told him what to do for a change, challenging his pride. Mammon, you gave him exactly what he wanted to hear. With wrath...did you?

“Satan, I swear to God above and Diavolo below, if you don’t quit moping around and refusing to take care of yourself, I’m going to shove this entire freaking thing down your throat till it’s the only thing you can taste for decades!” You raised your voice, shouting at him with a fury in your chest you’d never used before, ever. Especially not against Satan. You didn’t want to die that badly. But you were alive, and instead of smoke coming out of his ears, Satan looked up at you from behind messy bangs. He looked shocked beyond belief, his mouth slightly ajar. He uncurled himself from his position and sat up slowly, his head looking down.

“Tch.” He puffed air through his teeth, giving in finally. It was like you had won the lottery. You hummed to yourself in success taking the cap off the bottle and pouring in the medicine. It smelt awful, and you felt for him, but if it was going to make him feel better, he needed it. You held it up to his lips. He growled in frustration but then parted his mouth to let you pour in the foul mixture.

He looked like he was going to be sick. He slumped his posture and began to release shuddering coughs. You instinctively put a hand on his back and rubbed up and down. Once he was done with the episode, he sat back up, swaying in his seat back and forth until you held onto him, gently bringing him back down onto his pillow. You moved the hair out of his eyes and sighed in relief. Thanks to whatever magic Devildom medicine had, his redness had already gone drastically down, and he looked fairly calm for now.

His eyelids couldn’t tell if they wanted to be open or shut, like he was struggling to fight sleep. You got up off his bed and pulled the covers tighter around him, urging him to go to bed. You told him you’d finally leave him alone, and picked up the book you had forgotten you’d brought with you. He grabbed your wrist before you could even attempt to leave, he sleepily read the cover before letting his hand drop back onto the mattress.

“I bought that...for you,” he mumbled. With a grin, you nodded. He had bought it for you during the adventure to London. It was filled with old fairytales and fables, the authentic gruesome kind, not the kind human kids grew up on, which Satan had labeled as ‘disgusting dull-headed drabble’.

“I brought it here for you, but you need sleep, besides you have plenty of other books here…” your voice trailed off as you reached for the horn that still had the paper stuck to it. You yanked it free with a light chuckle.

“Will you…” Satan started, gripping at his own sheets so tight you thought he would rip holes in them. “Read...to me?” Your heart soared so fast you almost went lightheaded. You sat back down on his bed, fussing over him just a bit more to fix his messy hair. He groaned as you did but let you do it anyway.

“Of course, I’ll read for you whenever, Satan.” You flipped the book open to the first page, reading about terribly sad events with a terribly soft voice. Every so often he’d correct you if you fumbled on a word, but eventually he went to sleep. You could see his eyeballs moving frantically under his eyelids as he slept. He’d say some incomprehensible word in his sleep while his fingers twitched in random increments.

You used the stray paper that had been on his head as a bookmark, placing it back on his nightstand for later. “I guess they all get to live happy ever after this time,” you whispered to him in his unconscious state before you pressed the back of your hand against his cheek and wished him sweet dreams.

[sophiexwrites]

Solangelo Soulmarks

Based on this prompt from @troopythedragon24! This was a lot of fun, it took a little longer than I expected because I kept changing ideas, but here we go!

AU: Soulmates

Setting: Camp Half Blood, Infirmary Days after BOO

Trigger Warning(s): Mentions of shirtless teen boys, though not heavily described. Please tell me if I should add any others.

AO3

Will Solace placed his hand next to the stethoscope on his patient's chest, steadying himself to get a better reading. Both boys fought to avert their gaze and reduce the blush staining their cheeks, but their efforts were hopeless.

"So, uh..." Nico di Angelo struggled to start a conversation now more than ever. "Is there a reason this is taking so long, doc?" He silently cursed himself for using the nickname, but supposed some good came out of it when he saw Will's crooked smile.

"Sort of." The son of Apollo bit his lip in thought as he moved away from Nico. The retreat made both their chests ahe, longing for the contact again. Will ignored it best he could, whilst Nico tried to ignore the butterflies attacking his stomach when his doctor kept biting his lip - a habit Nico was soon obsessed with. "You're heartbeat is fast but faint, I need it to be louder." That was strange, Nico thought, because he could hear his heart hammering like Hephaestus. "I hope this doesn't overstep any boundaries," The doctor rushed, careful to chose his words so that the next two days together in the infirmary wouldn't be full of tension and awkwardness, "but it might help if you took your shirt off."

All was silent for a moment before Nico let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Can... can you take your shirt off, please?"

Nico wasn't sure whether he wanted to or not. Sure, it would stop Will from looking at him with those bright blue eyes standing out from tanned skin, full of a strange emotion that Nico could only call nervousness, for some reason. But still. If Nico took his shirt off, he would be bare chested and Will would be able to read the words printed inches below his collarbone. He would read Nico's soul-mark, quoting the first words Will ever said to him.

Somewhere in his panic, a single brain cell spoke up: then hide it, shadow bender! Of course! Will may have banned underworld magic, but shadows were distinctly a part of the world of the living - dead folks aren't opaque enough to cast one. As long as Nico had enough energy to keep the shadows covering his chest, Will would never be any wiser of their connection. He certainly didn't seem to have any feelings for Nico now, the son of Hades thought bitterly.

"Okay. But turn around, I don't need you ogling me."

"Y-yeah, sure." Will's voice shook, and Nico didn't know they were both in the same state of panic. He pulled his dark eyes around the room, noting every shadow cast by the potted plants, drawn privacy curtain, medical equipment, and (most notably) the bed Nico and Will were sat on. Will himself cast no shadow, but Nico assumed that was down to the angle of light in the small room. The shadow weaver steeled himself with a breath before pulling his shirt over his head and dragging the shadows towards him. The sense of power was incredible.

"You can look now." He whispered, suddenly shy. The shadows covered his torso, from each far-too-visible rib to the far-too-prominent collarbone. Unless you knew where to look, the soul-ink was invisible.

But as Will turned around, bright red, Nico's other brain cells returned. Will didn't have a shadow because he was a child of the God of the Sun... as his stethoscope and hand returned to their places on Nico's chest, they both found the shadows repelled by a soft glow of golden light. No, it wasn't gold: it was a full visible spectrum of light, each shade of sunset or sunrise filtering down on him. It was gorgeous, Nico thought, suddenly with a one-track mind. Will was gorgeous.

Speaking of Will, he had a one-track mind too. Nico's soul-mark. Hi, I'm Will! The cursive was wobbly and crooked, just as 11 year old Will's writing would have been. It was much scruffier 3 years later, Will mused, before he breathed a single word to the cute Italian teen sat in front of him. "Soul-mark."

That definitely brought Nico back to reality. Eyes wide and fearful, he remembered his encounter with Eros as he scrambled to put his shirt back on, convinced the God had cursed him for all eternity because this was wrong, now Will would hate him, and think he's weird and abnormal and would tell everyone, and-

"Nico, wait, it's okay!" Soft hands took Nico's in their own, bringing him back to reality. "It's great, actually, you have mine and I have yours too!" With the bright white smile dazzling him, it took Nico a moment to realise what his crush had just said.

“You have one too?"

"Yes! of course I do." Will's gaze softened, and the attractive lip-biting returned. "If you want, I can show you?" Nico hesitated before nodding, averting his gaze as Will let go of him to remove his doctors coat and then shirt, abandoning them on the bed. "See?" He indicated the lightly inked block capitals above his heart, the same place Nico's soul-mark was. OH, HI! Will had long felt frustration over the generic words, bitter that soul-marks only showed the first sentence your soulmate says to you. But overtime he had re-evaluated each and every first-meeting he ever had, and realised that meeting 11 year old Nico near Hestia's hearth had to be the origin of his mark. And now he loved it.

"Oh." Nico said, automatically leaning towards Will to read the tiny writing. "Oh."

"Yeah." Said Will, taking Nico's hands in his and leaning towards his soulmate. They sat there, together, for what felt like hours and seconds at the same time. They kept a small gap between them, studying each other's marks in awe.

That was before the curtain rustled behind them and Kayla burst in, worried by the silence. Needless to say, she was met with two red faced, bare chested, hand holding teens, locked in a tender moment of silence. Though, it soon changed to panic, threats thrown at the giggling girl to insure complete and utter secrecy, lest Nico design a spot in the Fields of Punishment for her himself. In other words, it was Nico and Will’s first bonding exercise after accepting their bond. And it was glorious.

[drunkbatya]

Notebook | Even If We Try

Yes, I know you're not kamleo fans, but give these two a chance. I swear, I love these two so much. Their relationship is something precious to me. Perhaps you can understand me if you read this. I think their relationship is very interesting.

___________________________

Elijah Kamski x Leo Manfred

2, 689 words

Warning: smoking, nothing special, but the mention of drugs

___________________________

Leo noticed him from a distance. As soon as a shadow passed through the glass doors of the building, he knew — Elijah was there.

Kamski pushed open the door, put his coat collar back on, and moved forward, wincing in the chilly wind.

Leo devoured Elijah's figure with his eyes. His perfectly black coat was the only contrast against the endless grayness of the place: withered grass, bare trees, dusty paved paths, and dirty, inconspicuous walls of the building, closing in a stone fence behind. It was so high that only the sky was visible behind it, and the sky, like everything else here, was gloomy and gray.

Elijah stopped at a bench, blocking the view of the bleak courtyard. Instead of ‘hello’, his lips twitched slightly, trying for a moment to curl into a forced, polite smile.

Leo lowered his head. He avoided looking at Kamski up close, and didn't particularly want to show him the results of being here. The emaciated, sallow face, the circles under his eyes, and the dead look were the result of hard days in his life. He was ashamed to show himself like this in front of Elijah, who seemed to have never had such days.

“How are you?” Kamski asked in a deep, low voice, frowning.

“Hard,” Leo breathed out. He had no reason to lie.

Elijah nodded. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he didn't prepare any words of support anyway.

There was an oppressive silence. They hadn't seen each other for only a few weeks, but now those weeks were like years of separation, which stood between them as a wall of silence and alienation. With each new meeting, they had fewer themes and words. They no longer knew what to say to each other.

“Do you have a cigarette?” Leo tried to look up, but the cloudy sky cut his eyes with its light, just as Elijah's silent presence cut his soul. Manfred immediately looked down.

“It seems like smoking is forbidden here,” said Kamski.

Leo just snorted. Prohibitions have never stopped anyone before. Drugs were also banned, but they were still brought here. Ex-addicts are only dead addicts, what can you say?

“You're Elijah Kamski, who's going to forbid you anything?”

Leo made another attempt to look up, but failed again.

Elijah sighed, frowning looked around and put his hand in his coat pocket. A moment later, a pack of cigarettes was tossed carelessly into Leo's lap, followed by a lighter.

“Isn't that too cheeky?” Kamski asked calmly, but there was a note of reproach in his voice.

Leo froze, the cigarette halfway to his lips.

“Here, you know, it's like a children's camp,” he grinned, thoughtfully swinging his cigarette, “at night, they smoke in the windows, during the day they hide in the bushes. You can smoke here. You just can't get caught, you know?”

“So, can you at least walk around the corner for decency's sake?” Elijah raised an eyebrow, questioning and haughty.

“Why?” Leo asked quietly. “I can piss on their faces, they won't do anything to me while you're here.”

“And then?”

“What then?” the cigarette bounced up and down between his lips. “Does it matter?”

A lighter flickered. Leo breathed in the smoke with difficulty, and it rubbed across his throat like sandpaper, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue and a sweet taste of chocolate on his lips. The cigarette smoked heavily.

“Heavy and expensive,” Leo said, looking at the pack. “Just like you.”

Elijah ignored this. For too long he had listened to the younger Manfred selectively.

Leo took only a few puffs. He had not smoked for a long time, so he confused the quickening heartbeat with pleasure. It was like a happy anticipation and a pleasant excitement. He felt alive for the first time.

“Can I keep it?” Leo waved the pack. “It's really hard here without them.”

Elijah reached into his coat pocket and turned away. You could tell by the curve of his mouth that he wasn't happy. The longer he stared at the gray wall of the building, the more tense the silence became.

“Does therapy help you?”

Leo coughed. He hoped that if he coughed up his lungs now, he wouldn't need to say anything.

“Answer the question,” Elijah asked imperiously.

“No,” Leo said with disdain.

“‘No’ because you need a different approach or ‘no’ because you don't want to make an effort?”

“‘No’ because it's bullshit,” Leo looked at Kamski with anger.

The corners of Elijah's mouth twitched. He was clearly displeased with this response.

“So you just don't want to make the effort,” he stated in a monotone voice.

The phrase hit Leo in the stomach. He gasped with indignation.

“This,” he pointed the cigarette between his fingers at the building, “is complete bullshit, Elijah. I've had enough of their ‘tell me what you don't want to tell’ therapies. I'm tired of their stifling revelations and snot-chewing. We are all unhappy, each in his own way, how fucking unexpected it is!”

Leo threw up his hands.

“Did you tell them?” Elijah turned his blue eyes to Manfred. “Did you tell them anything at all?”

“No! Of course not, damn it.”

“It won't work if you don't start talking.”

“Fuck it!” Leo shouted. “I'm not going to participate in this group rape. I won't complain that my father doesn't need me. Especially about...”

The voice trembled treacherously. Manfred turned away.

“Leo,” Elijah called softly.

“It's the smoke...”

Kamski looked down and crossed his arms. He didn't know what to do when Leo's eyes suddenly started to water from the smoke, the wind, or unpleasant memories.

“I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to write about it. I don't even want to think about it. They want to dig into themselves, so they can get a shovel in their hands. I just want to stop thinking about it. This is not a sad story to make everyone cry and say a compassionate ‘oooh’. It is mine. Personal. And I want it to stay that way.”

Elijah looked down at the toes of his shoes thoughtfully. His lips twitched. He wrapped his coat around him and sat down on the bench. Leo moved away instinctively.

“You told me about it,” Kamski breathed out softly and very delicately.

“Now I regret,” Leo growled back, rolling the cigarette between his fingers.

He was silent for a long time. Elijah didn't say anything either. He just stared up at the gray sky, which made his blue eyes look muddy and clouded.

“If you think that makes me feel better,” Leo's voice was hoarse, “you're wrong. And telling more people about it is not going to make it any easier for me either.”

Elijah winced.

“They are right about one thing,” Manfred waved a hand. “I'm running. We—” he glanced at the building, correcting himself, “are running. And locking us in here alone with ourselves with no alternative to drugs is the worst idea.”

“One on one with your problems,” Elijah brushed invisible dust from his perfectly black coat, “you can't run forever. You can't run away from yourself.”

Leo turned his head and stared at Kamski for a long moment. There was no emotion in his glassy eyes.

“It's not me, Elijah,” he said hoarsely after a long pause. “What happened is not me.”

“It's part of you.”

“The part I want to forget about,” Leo breathed in the cigarette smoke and jumped nervously on the bench, trying to sit more comfortably. “There are things that can't be coped with group therapy, long walks in the fresh air, and unpleasant routines. There are problems that can't be solved, you can only run away from them... and we were denied this opportunity.”

“You were forced to make an effort to overcome difficulties,” Kamski added a clarification

Leo hissed in annoyance.

“You can't refuse something without finding an alternative,” he breathed in the smoke with a whistle. “Even if we try to make ourselves all right, even if we break this vicious circle... as long as the addiction is in our heads, we are in danger. We cannot get rid of it by isolation, because obsessive thoughts do not come from outside.”

He paused for a brief moment and looked up, as if there was something in the sky that distracted him.

“I just want to get high.”

Elijah visibly tensed.

“Every fucking day, all I think about is how much I want to get high,” Leo hastily breathed in the smoke, stubbed out the cigarette and throwing it into the shrubs. “I think if I get out of here—” he cleared his throat, “as soon as I get out of here, I will—”

Manfred paused thoughtfully. There were things he shouldn't have said in front of Elijah.

“Prohibitions don't work,” Leo said. “We need alternatives.”

“What alternatives?” Elijah's voice was tense and displeased.

Leo shrugged his shoulders.

“More diverse activities? Something distracting? Maybe a phone or laptop—”

“That's out of the question,” Elijah cut him off.

“At least a TV,” Manfred asked in a whining, childish voice. “You know, the morgue is more fun place than this...”

Elijah Kamski narrowed his eyes, put his hands in the pockets of his coat, and pursed his lips in displeasure.

“That's where you'll end up if you continue…”

Leo scratched his dry lips with a fingernail and glared at Elijah.

He promised not to devalue other people's problems so obviously, but whatever it was, there was indifference in his words, in his look, in his expression, and even in his presence. It may have been rude, but Leo's problems are just Leo's problems. Kamski was willing to help with them, but he didn't exactly sign up to solve them.

“I want to go home,” Leo's voice was quiet and hesitant.

Elijah seemed to become uncomfortable. He sighed heavily, fixed his coat, and crossed his legs.

“We agreed that you would stay here for three months,” his voice was cold.

“We didn't agree about ‘here’,” Leo snapped.

“Really?”

The look in his blue eyes hurt Manfred. His voice, usually soft and calm, but now quivering with tension, sounding a tone higher and more resonant, was full of contempt.

“You absolutely have no willpower,” Kamski said, looking away.

“It's not true,” Leo whispered. He knew Elijah was right, and it made him angry. He had never been able to resist temptation, but like any human being, he was sure that if he needed it badly, he could control himself and overcome it. Just not right now. He was not ready now, and he knew very well that he never would be. Fighting with yourself, suffering for the good — a hard path you need to go through with your teeth clenched. There wouldn't be a good time for him to do it, they both knew that.

“I remember,” Elijah's voice became dangerously calm and relaxed, “after the hospital, you swore you were done with drugs forever, but here we are...”

“That—” Leo grimaced irritably and nervously. “That was just an episode...”

“How many such episodes were? How many more will be?”

“It was—” Manfred breathed out heavily, knowing that he couldn't finish the sentence without lying. “It won't happen again.”

Elijah turned his head and stared at Leo for a long moment. It was impossible to bear the heavy, burning gaze. Leo lowered his head guiltily, gritted his teeth, and shrank to the size of a pumpkin seed, hoping he could just disappear.

“You know I don't believe you,” Elijah said softly. “I wish I could, but I can't.”

“This time—” Leo's voice faltered and broke into a hoarse rasp. “This time it will be different.”

“You start repeating yourself...”

Leo pursed his lips painfully. Sometimes just faith is not enough. He would like to keep at least one of his words. But all the promises at once lose their meaning when you really want to get high.

“«This time,” Leo licked his lips nervously, “it will be different. I swear. It won't happen again...”

“Good, if that's true,” Elijah said under his breath, fixing his coat.

He turned and gave Manfred a strange look. A thoughtful, maybe doubtful.

“This is the last chance, Leo,” Kamski's voice was barely heard in the wind, “there will be no others. I can't help someone who doesn't want help. I'm not going to pull you out of this swamp by your ears anymore. You've had too many attempts already. This is the last one. If you can't handle it—”

Elijah turned away, exhaling heavily. He made it clear that if Leo betrayed his trust again, their paths would separate. Elijah forgave Manfred too much. More than anyone else. Even his brother was not so honored.

Leo closed his eyes and breathed out. He opened his mouth to say ‘I promise’, but didn't have time. The phone in Elijah's coat pocket vibrated insistently, alerting him to an incoming call. And that call was a hundred and a thousand times more important than anything Leo had to say.

Elijah didn't bother answering the phone quickly. Lazily, he took his phone out of his pocket, stared at the screen for a long time, then finally accepted the call, threw a short ‘I'm coming’ and immediately disconnected. Leo thought with annoyance that for all his philosophical slowness, Kamski did not like to waste his time. He never spent a second more than was necessary. So there's a question: how much time was he willing to give Leo today?

“I have to go.”

Even less than usual. Leo clicked his tongue. He shouldn't have set high expectations for these meetings. They became forced.

For too long Leo has been too uncomfortable with his addiction. But Elijah was still here. It should have been gratifying to Leo that a man who refused everything burdensome without regret was still with him for some reason, but it was not gratifying at all. He felt like a burden, and he was beginning to think about breaking this relationship with Elijah, even if it was the only thing that kept him on the line.

Kamski stood up. He was not going to choose the right words and prolong the good-bye indefinitely. This is not their last meeting.

“Are you coming next week?” Leo asked casually.

Elijah took a deep breath. He hoped he could avoid this question.

“I'll be out of town.”

Elijah's gaze moved across the bleak, bare courtyard. Manfred sighed.

“These are important meetings, Leo,” Kamski said with pressure.

“I know, I know,” the young man mumbled. “I'm not three years old. I understand that meeting with me has never been important enough for you...”

“We can reschedule,” Elijah said as gently as he could. “You're not going anywhere...”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Leo agreed, but at that moment he desperately wanted to hang himself on his own sheet, only for Elijah's words to become fatal.

Elijah's lips tightened, and his face looked sharpened.

“Thursday,” he broke the long silence. “Evening. I'll come to you for a while.”

Leo pursed his lips to hide a faint smile.

“Bring something for you?” Elijah reached up, pulled back the sleeve of his coat, and glanced at the dial of his watch.

“Cigarettes.”

Elijah gave him a disapproving look.

“And laptop.”

“Leo,” Elijah said imperiously. Obviously this was synonymous with a categorical no.

“At least a book,” Leo said with a despair.

“Okay,” Kamski nodded, “okay. I'll bring you a book.”

He raised a hand and, with the care common to all who deal with wild animals, patted Leo's hair sentimentally. Manfred grimaced, but said nothing.

“I have to go,” he said softly, under his breath. “See you Thursday, Leo.”

“See you Thursday, Elijah.”

Kamski turned and walked confidently away. It's always like this with them — neither hello nor goodbye. This makes meetings look cursory, but less burdensome.

Leo counted to ten before looking up. Elijah was no longer in the courtyard.

Heavy clouds were reflected in the windows and glass doors of the building.

[ask-mrradiodemon]

Valentine's Day ~ A Radiodust Story

A/N: This story is largely based on the canon of my RP blog, which I'm posting this on now, and the things that have developed here over time, rather than actual character canon. Having said that, each individual should be in character, and I hope you're all able to enjoy nonetheless. Cheers, everyone

Ao3 Link (since SOME people found it early-)

TW: Brief mentions of alcohol and believing love is unrequited

Baking and cooking are often time consuming activities that can take a toll on anyone's health. Doing so for twelve hours straight three days in a row only makes matters worse, and would cause any normal person to pass out. Of course, the radio demon was far from being a normal person, rarely ever needing sleep. But without a moment's rest, exhaustion was bound to take over at some point. Alastor nearly failed to arrive to the venue on time.

But not quite.

The room in question was something that had previously been old and abandoned; a ballroom in the back of the hotel, complete with a stage up front and a floor made for dancing. It took Niffty nearly a full day to clean up the cobwebs, dust, and creatures that had made it their home, but with the light shining in that space by the end, it was more than worth it. The empty room wasn't enough, though, of course. Decorations had to be put around as well, and with Alastor busy with the food preparations, that task was assigned to none other than...

"Charlie, you've done splendid! Absolutely marvelous!" It was more than a relief when she heard that her decorations were up to Alastor's standards. During the hour of him inspecting each individual piece, only a few tweaks were made. Moving a banner two inches to the left, tightening the knot that held a balloon to the ground, going so far as to change the color of the tablecloth where the food was meant to be placed. Charlie hadn't been nearly as busy lately, but she still worked hard as hell on that. With her work in place and finished, Alastor dismissed her to go get ready for the evening's events.

"So are you gonna fuckin' tell me why you're doing this to begin with?"

Ah, the telltale voice of a drunk man. Not that Alastor was surprised, of course. Without hesitation, he simply made his way over to the barman's table, upon which laid a dozen different drink types. Coffee, hot chocolate, lemonade (pink and regular), tea, juice, and even the soda Alastor had hazardously taken from the upper world's. Under the table, just barely hidden by the cloth, was a large bottle of fine wine: Husk's motivation to be here.

"Well I believe I've said it before, my dear! I've never celebrated an event such as this, and a dance is the perfect method to encourage camaraderie and building relationships among staff!"

Husk was not the least bit impressed. "Right, so that's your canned response you've been givin' to everyone for the past two weeks. In case you don't remember, I've known you longer than these assholes, and you're not like that. So spill."

Alastor didn't respond immediately to the… Question? It was more like an order. Either he had to think of a convincing enough lie, or tell the truth. And since the latter was not an option, and Husk had already broken through several of the excuses Alastor had given, there weren't many options left.

"If you're just gonna give me more bullshit, then don't even bother saying anything." Ding.

"Very well then! I won't! Make sure you're on time this evening, six o' clock sharp!" With that, Alastor simply walked away, with Husk facepalming in the background.

Only ten in the morning! There's so much left to prepare! Hot chocolate couldn't be made more than an hour early, and many of the foods had to be fresh and warm to ensure they were at top quality. At least the cookies, cake, and appetizers had been finished the night before; things would be slightly easier today.

--------

Alastor was never grateful to have an extra pair of hands assisting him. Or, well… three pairs.

"So? You got it figured out yet?" While Arakniss worked on following the recipes that had been laid out for him, Alastor was gathering ingredients for the ones yet to come. Many of which, he promptly dropped after hearing that question. That gave Niss a much needed chuckle; no matter how many times they talked about this, it never failed to send Alastor short circuiting.

“Yes, well… I believe so? Things have been… Written out, and… Well the decorations are gorgeous, you should see them!”

Niss only rolled his eyes at the nervous deflection. “You’re gonna do fine, dance lessons will come in handy soon. Be dancin’ with my fratello before the night’s over, easy.”

Somehow, the thought of that wasn’t as comforting as it should have been. For that to happen, Alastor would actually have to go through with his confession, and Angel would have to actually accept it. Even with that low likelihood, if it managed to happen, Alastor’s online lessons in tango may not have been near enough to actually perform it well. In front of everyone else that was invited.

"There's a very good chance I could step on his feet. Hooves are a bit more rough than normal shoes."

Niss gave a half laugh, half scoff at that. "Look, you're gonna do just fine. I know it pretty decent, you need some last minute practice?"

Alastor glanced up to the clock. Three hours left, and most things only took a few minutes to prepare…

"That would be quite nice."

--------

So far, things had run smoothly. Husk wasn't offering anyone alcohol, Niffty was cleaning up the little spills and crumbs, and the dessert table was quite the success. Almost all the savory and sweet things had been eaten, with Angel seeming to take a particular favor to the strawberry cookies. Though, if Alastor had been honest, he wasn't paying much attention to everyone else. With Angel's plus one being Cherri, they'd had enough fun with all the energetic songs to make time fly past. Alastor had tried choosing the playlist for the evening, but Vaggie took over that quickly once she saw the old things he was choosing.

Thirty minutes left until everyone's curfew. Thirty minutes left until the end of the event. And Alastor hadn't said a single word to anyone besides Husk, about refilling the drinks when things ran low, and Charlie, assuring her he was keeping an eye out for any damages while she enjoyed the night with her girlfriend.

It was now. Or it was never. Alastor gave a gesture to some stranger that had been volunteered to run the music, and it was cut off as the radio demon made his way onto the center of the small stage.

"I hope you're all having an enjoyable time here. I simply wish to say a few words, a toast, if you will, without the drinks. To our honorable staff members, that worked hard to make this event what it was." Only Charlie was the one aware that was bullshit, that Alastor had planned everything out himself and only allowed the others to help if absolutely necessary. He'd done a very good job of hiding the bags under his eyes, she noticed.

“As you all know, I have given many speeches throughout both life and death. Though many have been broadcast, many a time has it been an intimate gathering among those I… used to consider my friends. As one might predict, never in those speeches have I been at a loss for words or needing to plan things out. Until of course… Now. Perhaps it is because you are no longer strangers, and yet you are far from friends either.”

“I told you we couldn’t trust him.” As quiet as Vaggie’s words were, Alastor’s ears picked them up easily. His smile faltered for only a second, unnoticeable to anyone besides his newfound friend Arakniss, standing in the doorway out of sight.

“You see, in the many months since I joined this staff, I have grown to consider you all as…”

...of course. Alastor knew this was going to happen. Each time he tried to show any kind of gratitude, his throat closed up and he was unable to say the dreaded, emotional words. At least, this time, he had prepared.

“Family.”

To say that everyone was shocked, not only at the appearance of Alastor’s shadow clone standing proud next to him, but at the words it said, would be a terrible understatement.

“It is no secret to most of you that I have… unusual levels of difficulty expressing certain emotions, whereas my “friends” here have no trouble at all.” The last part of that phrase was said with slight menace, though not towards any of the members of the hotel; he was quick to learn how his shadows had been finishing his thoughts recently, filling everyone in on the feelings he would rather have kept hidden. There was a reason most of them, all except Al’s own, were banned from the event.

“As such, I am placing my trust in my other half,” accented with a bow while Alastor gestured towards it, “to help me today, and to ensure my meaning is not changed due to my own inability to speak my mind. Beginning with Charlie…”

As soon as the name was spoken, the shadow was no longer by his side, now standing in front of Charlie with a smile. Naturally, Vaggie reached for her concealed knife, but the shadow simply reached out a hand to take Charlie’s own, placing a small kiss on the top of it.

“When I first arrived here, I did not hesitate to let you know exactly what I thought of this idea of yours. Though I still do not believe the end to your means is possible, you have still managed great success, in your own way. Just look around!” Alastor twirled in a circle, using his microphone to gesture to the crowd in front of him. “More and more people are smiling like they never have before! Whether your ultimate goal ends in complete failure, or minor success…”

Silence. And then another gesture with his microphone, this time to the shadow, who spoke in his characteristic deeper, distorted version of the radio demon’s own voice.

“Your kind heart has made a great influence on many people. Hell is lucky to have someone such as yourself to be next in line for power.”

Ignoring the shocked expression on each face, the shadow moved on before anyone was able to comment on the uncharacteristic compliment, stepping to stand in front of Vaggie and perform the same gesture. Or at least, attempting to do so before she pulled her hand away. In response, the shadow simply crossed its hands behind its back.

"My dear, I'm well aware that I have done very little in an attempt to impress you, or not rebut the many tales you've heard of my name. In truth, I'm gar more used to having enemies than friends. If anything, you had the most expected reaction!" With that came a chorus of laughter, all background noises created by Alastor himself. Surprisingly, she didn't consider this situation funny.

"But, regardless of your views on me, allow me to share my opinion of you. Rather abrasive, tough, and perhaps too defensive." Vaggie looked as though she was ready to run upstage and punch him, only held back by Charlie's hand on her arm. "Yet undoubtedly, you are strong-willed and protective. Indeed, an admirable quality, one that I self proclaim to share." A quick bow and gesture of the microphone, a humble gesture though it contradicted the previous phrase. "It is for this reason that I greatly… respect and admire you.  Perhaps one day, I can earn your favor, as you have mine."

The shadow moved with obvious intention past Angel Dust, but if anyone in the crowd noticed, they didn't comment. Rather, it made its way straight to the bar, quickly summoning a bottle of fine wine rather than attempting any sort of contact.

"Husk! My old friend! I trust that you've warmed up to me more since your arrival, my part in recent events having /nothing/ to do with that, I'm sure."

The resulting middle finger gave Alastor all the hint he needed; keep it short, the relationship was Arakniss wasn't public knowledge yet. "But regardless of that, or the intoxicating reasons you've chosen to say, you've done each individual here- a great service by staying, and we are lucky to have you."

The shadow didn't need to approach Niffty; she had been following it around since the beginning, and now its eyes were on her.

"My darling, you're quite the hard worker at this establishment. Enjoy it or not, you've likely done more work in a day than I ever have as co-owner! Though your job isn't what I'd like to mention." If anything, she was more confused than anyone else. "You're rather invasive, you like to listen in on my private conversations, and you are very persistent in matters that are, frankly, none of your business.” Niffty looked almost heartbroken. “However, in doing so, you are never critical or judgemental. Rather, you are kind, encouraging, understanding. For each of these reasons combined, you are the obnoxious, lovable little sister I never had.” The shadow dissipated as she tried to hug the incorporeal being, but a hand ruffled her hair to reduce the disappointment regardless.

“As for the final member of our staff-” The shadow quietly approached Angel before Al held out a hand to stop it. “We will speak another time.” The quiet whispers in certain patches showed that he wasn’t the only one who knew precisely what that phrase meant, but of course the shadow couldn’t simply leave things up to fate. Rather, he told a hold of angel’s face once the crowd’s attention was redirected, whispering “mon cher” in his ear, so quietly no one but Angel could hear. He may not have spoken a word of french, but with the odd seductive tone, he at least hoped he could figure out the meaning.

“But, enough of the sappy things. It’s a wonderful night! Célébrer, my friends, celebrate!”

Angel was quick to run as the peaceful buzz started and anyone could ask questions, as was Arakniss, but to stop Alastor from collapsing as soon as he was out of sight. His knees buckled and Niss was the only thing stopping him from hitting the floor.

“...what have I just done?”

Arakniss didn't have a fast enough answer before Angel came in through the back door, looking unusually pissed off. "Al, what the fuck was that about!?" Immediately, Alastor stood up and pushed away the guiding arm that was intended to steady him.

"I- My apologies, but-"

"You're really gonna go and say nice shit to everyone but me? And make it fuckin' obvious? Geez, if you really hated me that bad you shoulda just said so." Angel had a lot more to say, but with Niss standing behind Alastor motioned for him to shut the fuck up, he kept quiet for only a second.

"I… did not wish to… say certain things in front of the staff, is all."

"Well go on and spit it out then, I'm listening-"

"This is quite difficult enough without your argument, if you would please allow me to speak."

Something about the sincerity, and unusual level of fear, in Alastor's voice made Angel fall silent as Arakniss excused himself out the back door. A quick memory came of the phrase the shadow had said to him, though it didn't last long once it showed up again, taking Angel's hand as it had Charlie's.

"You're very… irritating. You're overly lewd, and brash, and there's many things about you that spark my wrath easier than anything." Alastor couldn't get any further than that, and an awkward silence followed. Angel staring with a mix of anger and confusion, while Alastor felt his face growing brighter red with each passing second. They had a script to follow. Just like the ones he had written for everyone else. Yet he couldn't remember a single word of it. Part of him just wanted to run, allow Angel to finish enjoying his night, and never speak of this moment again. Part of him also knew he'd never forgive himself if he did that.

"You're enchanting." No going back now. His shadow had full control, and all Alastor could do was stand there and watch. "I can't express how much I care for you. My eyes have been on you since the first day we met. Your eyes, your voice, your personality… All beautiful. I'd give you the world should you ask for it. I've been enamoured with you since the day we met, and I'd be honored if I could call you mine."

There was silence for about a minute, and no one moved. Angel held an unreadable expression, and Alastor's heart broke when he eventually pulled the hand away. Here comes the rejection he knew would happen. At least now, he could be able to move on.

"Look, Al… you're… really amazing, like… Holy shit, I…" Angel laughed and shook his head, pushing back his hair with one hand. "If I had any kinda common sense I'd shove ya against the wall now and kiss ya, but…" He nervously glanced at the shadow, and Alastor's heart rose into his throat as he realized what might need to be done.

"It's… Weird. Not havin' you say it. I mean it's you, but… Not really. And it's kinda hard to believe it's real if I'm not hearing it from you."

Alastor wasn't sure what exactly Angel expected him to do. But what he actually did was nod silently as his smile began to fade, and walk out the door, leaving the distraught shadow behind with a shocked expression.

"Don't look at me like that! It's fuckin weird, like if my brother had just gone and told him all the stuff I think about him. You can't blame me for that!" It didn't respond, fading out into the darkness. Angel didn't have much choice but to head out back to the party, where the final song was playing. A tango. Hand-picked, for the dance that Alastor had spent over a month learning, not that Angel would ever learn that now.

For the first time, Alastor allowed himself to cry in front of someone else as soon as he met Arakniss outside.

He cared. He really did. Angel cared for him.

But that meant nothing if Alastor couldn't learn to say the words out loud for himself. Such a bittersweet feeling. Besides the occasional choked sobs, not a sound left his mouth. If he couldn't learn to say the words, all his work will have been for nothing. Somehow, knowing that was worse than if he had just been turned down.

It had been over two weeks since Alastor had attempted to sleep, and four days since he had any rest at all. Too busy.

"When you allow your heart to lead you, it drives you off a cliff."

[anjellion-drawthings]

About all my F-Zero FCs so far, and their lore

Normally I don’t usually have the time or energy to create several FC bios, but… I think this once, I’m going to reveal history about all of them?? (Except for Jill because @huskynator​ did a better job than I ever could! ;; )

Warning, very long bios and connections to canon characters!

Chief Ann

Because of her position at the Galactic Space Federation, she oversees everything that Jody, John Tanaka, ands Lily Flyer do. She frequently has to scold them also if they do something that could harm the Federation’s reputation.

As expected of an alien creature, she’s actually really old, her age is listed to be over 200 years! To that extent, it means that Ann has witnessed the horrible F-MAX accident, which put a start to her wanting to ban all Grand Prix races, as she deemed them too dangerous. It may also be connected to the destruction of her home planet; Dinea.

She did manage to successfully suspend the F-Zero Grand Prix following another terrible accident (which led to Captain Falcon being hospitalized and Pico taking the blame), but the Arrows managed to rectify it. Since then, Ann has had a grudge against them.

When Jody Summer’s father died, Ann pretty much took the pilot under her wing, so they are particularly close. Unlike John Tanaka though, Ann is overly protective to the point of annoyance. Doesn’t mean that Ann won’t take a bullet for her team, she’s willingly gotten herself harmed for innocents.

In spite of this, Ann’s reputation is very negative. Her and Pico have a natural spite for one another given their alien species (leeches vs. snapping turtles) and occupations. Samurai Goroh’s bandit group also has a strong distaste for her, as do residents of Takora due to an incident that occurred.

The Skull also doesn’t agree with her since he (un)lives for racing, Kate Alen, Princia, and Spade also find Ann to be a “killjoy”. Her and Captain Falcon though... they agree to disagree, so to speak. Ann recognizes Douglas as a former officer of the Internova Police Force and actually hopes he’ll return.

Although she comes off as harsh and cruel to criminals, Ann ultimately has some soft spots. Because she is the last of her known species and has a rather negative rep, Ann gets extremely flustered about… intimate matters. She’s used to being disliked.

Ann’s favorite drink is A+ blood and wine, while her favorite snacks are ice cream and jelly-filled donuts. Did we mention she’s extremely tall and can probably grow her body parts back?

Kevi

A knight from the planet Popopo, sometimes known as “the twinkling planet”. It’s notably very cold there, which is why he has such cozy-looking attire, gifted to him by the king of the land he originated from. Just about everyone there upbeat and friendly.

About less than a year ago, Kevi had triumphed in the war against a cult on his planet, so he decided to take up F-Zero racing until duty calls for him. Kevi had raced in the past, but it wasn’t on the scale of a Grand Prix, it often played out more like training for warfare.

Kevi is actually a transman, and plans to use the space credits in prize money to complete his “heroic appearance”. He had always wanted to be a knight and went through with changing everything about himself to achieve that dream. 

He loves the idea of being a powerful, macho hero and often flexes this in front of other racers. Not in an attempt to seem cocky, but because he loves competing with his heroes! He’s a fan of just about all of the racers, and I do mean all of them! Because Kevi is so friendly and genuine, even the more cold characters find themselves opening up to him rather easily. 

The normally cold and calculated Pico finds himself at ease around the knight, while even Black Shadow himself is humored by Kevi. The only one who detests Kevi and doesn’t hesitate to knock him down is Deathborn, of course. He hates Kevi even more for actively taking up Black Shadow’s time and hanging out with him, leading to the chance of Black Shadow’s fearsome reputation diminishing… or even worse, a relationship.

Kevi doesn’t even care about the whole crime thing, because he views these as small potatoes compared to a cult that straight up wants to destroy everything. Captain Falcon was worried at first, until the knight said he’s dealt with things far worse than the criminals of F-Zero.

Now, if push comes to shove, Kevi will most definitely drop his friendly personality and show that he’s a strong warrior. Not too bad for an F-Zero fan-boy with pink hair. He’s probably capable of taking someone down in arm wrestling despite how petite he is.

Kevi loves energy drinks, and his favorite food is usually anything with tomatoes! He’s very fit and never takes a break from exercising his body to become stronger. However, under that visor, Kevi does have a particularly adorable gaze, it’s said his eyes are like looking at stars.

Lanos

A sarcastic destroyer of worlds, times, and universes. He’s a silver-tongued entity, able to manipulate others to act out their innermost desires. Lanos is ageless, his origins unknown, just traversing to wherever he pleases. Where exactly is he hiding? And in what time period?

Probably the distant future, which is why he’s considered Phoenix’s #1 enemy. The time traveling detective has gone after him nonstop, but is often unable to pinpoint Lanos’ exact position. In fact, more often than not, Lanos manages to get away from Phoenix, whether a horrible crisis is averted or not.

He definitely has some connections to Don Genie. In another part of the future, Lanos apparently runs a night club (he always running away yet manages to keep a club!?), so they probably had some sort of deal. After all, Lanos gives people whatever they want, usually without strings attached.

Why does Lanos go around causing problems? It just happens usually whenever he goes anywhere, doesn’t even raise his hand. He often just lands on any planet in the form of a green jewel. People who cave into lust, wrath, or greed will often actively seek Lanos. Any downfall of the worlds is their fault and not his, something he constantly points out to Phoenix. “Why should it be the bomb’s fault when someone pushed the button?”

In terms of documented incidents, Lanos participated in F-MAX accident that burned several racers alive (including the Skull), the F-Zero race that got Captain Falcon hospitalized (with the blame pinned on Pico), and the destruction of Ann’s home planet. The war on Zou is most likely also started by Lanos.

Lanos most definitely has his own personal enjoyments, usually in the form of racing or any thrill-seeking activity. No one can really stop it, because if Lanos feels threatened, anyone who gets close will pretty much get their skin melted off.

Because of his history, not only does Phoenix intend to destroy him-- but so does Captain Falcon, Pico, Ann, Jody Summer, even Leon. Should they have any particular desire though, you bet that Lanos will try to wring them out.

Lanos speaks with a stoic, deep tone. To someone like Mr. Zero (who has to unfortunately interview him at times), it’s frightening, but when Lanos sweetens his words, it turns charismatic.

Cierlok (Princia’s servant)

(Credit to Huskynator for the name, which I slightly altered it to sound more exotic ;;)

Princia Ramode’s servant hails from the desert kingdom on Planet Magica. He is extremely protective of the princess, having known her since she was just a toddler, and will fly into a fit of rage if anyone tries to lay a hand on her. Don’t expect mercy either, since he’s a user of magic.

Since it’s impossible to reason with Princia’s stubborn personality, Cierlok is responsible for having an F-Zero machine made for the princess, and it was him she snuck off with. Unlike her, however, Cierlok has a very low opinion of the other F-Zero racers, especially Samurai Goroh and anyone associated, viewing them as lowly bandits. His opinion of bounty hunters isn’t much better.

But whenever Cierlok is confronted by someone physically stronger than himself, he’ll quickly chicken out, usually by running away or stammering. This same personality is usually witnessed when Princia is dragging him into something dangerous or risky.

Cierlok was actually a fortune teller in the desert kingdom, once a mere peasant himself. This all changed when Princia’s father needed a court magician and a bodyguard for his daughter. Evidently, the position has gone to his head over the years. Cierlok still does tarot card readings and all that other stuff though. Lower class individuals in Magica do not have a last name, while royalty does.

He had absolutely no interest in joining the F-Zero races so long as Princia remained unharmed. This changed when another magician began participating, Cierlok wished to prove that planet Magica has the best sorcerers in the universe-- mainly himself.

Since entering, he’s formed quite the rivalry with Spade and the Skull. Black magic and circus performances? “No, the pure magic of my planet is the greatest to exist!” Cierlok truly believes that his sorcery and fortune telling is above all of those.

Before planet Popopo went to war, they allied themselves with Magica. During that time, before Kevi had transitioned, he had gotten into a relationship with Cierlok. It didn’t last though, mainly because Cierlok was too much of a coward and wasn’t exactly strong, not to mention his ego got too grating. (He hasn’t even taken the message that he’s been dumped)

Cierlok’s favorite drink is champagne, and he loves calamari. He’s considered trying takoyaki but didn’t want to incur the wrath of Octoman. Probably for the best that he doesn’t try to make anymore enemies.

[ficsandpieces]

Not only is it almost father's day but it's summer!! Could I please get family beach/pool trip scenarios? Ahhh just imagining it is so cute. Individual family outings or maybe a whole group version just to see everyone's kids interact?? Whichever is best for you. Thanks so much in advance :D

(I’m sorry prompt fills are taking so long, real life keeps getting in the way OTL)

***

It’s Daddy’s day out! \o/

They go to Camus’ private beach because it was either that or a public one and Camus figured with great reluctance if he and his precious angel were going to be exposed to peasants it might as well be those he’s familiar with at least, much as it pains him to say it

Reiji rented a family van to pick everyone up and drove them over

Carpool karaoke happened and it was magnificent

They pull up to the beach and to the sight of Camus standing like a Greek god on the sand

His hair is up

His chest gleaming in the sun

His shins exposed

He’s possibly exposed more skin in public today than he had in over a year

It was only his opened shirt printed all over with cartoon heads of Alexander (a Father’s Day gift from his daughter via his S/O) that kept everyone present from being blinded

The deadly glare he shot anyone who even thought of commenting on his fashion sense today was enough to turn even the sun cold

Preparations before playtime see Camus and Ai diligently spraying their children down with sunblock, having brought with them metal canisters of it with spray nozzles attached for even coverage

Ranmaru’s barking at his kids to put it on while slapping it on himself

His son and daughter squeezing it on each other’s backs from a large economy tube of sunblock

When it comes to helping their father, they have fun drawing faces with the cream on Ranmaru’s back, quickly smearing the drawings away when he complains they’re taking too long 

Reiji and his twins have completely forgotten that sun protection exists and are already running into the sea, yelling and whooping, pool floats hooked under one arm and beach balls under the other

(His kids survive the day without sunburn

Unfortunately enough, the same cannot be said for Reiji

He returns to work red as a lobster with new patches of skin showing where his children helpfully assisted Daddy in peeling whatever was coming off

Manager-san banned Reiji from going under the sun for next month, swaddling him in long-sleeves, face-mask, a giant hat and pants, leading to Reiji almost being hospitalized for heat-stroke later)

Reiji and Ranmaru join their kids in the water

Ai and Camus prudently keeping to the shade

Ai’s son tugging on his hand for him to go play in the sea with him

Ai shaking his head

“You know that I’m no good with water. Go play with the others, I’ll be fine by myself here.”

His little boy is super disappointed

Halfheartedly joins the other kiddies in the water

(The disappointed look on his son’s face from that time stuck with him for months after that

The next beach trip sees Ai liberally dousing himself with sealant and wading grimly into the sea with his son and a steely determination not to let the water get in the way of quality father-son time)

Camus, horrified at how rowdy the other children are, at first stands like a stern sentinel between his daughter and the commoners, arms folded and face stern as thunder

But one small tug at his tailored capri trousers, his little girl looking up at him with forlorn eyes and he very literally melts

Compromises by shadowing her closely until he’s dragged off by Reiji to give the poor girl some breathing space 

Ranmaru gleefully assisting by putting Camus in a loose chokehold and literally towing him through the sand because as long as it causes the seaweed head distress he’s in

Ranmaru’s son, being the oldest of the lot, ends up keeping an eye on the other kids, to the silent approval of his father

Camus’ daughter is very excited to see other children her age because much like Camus she’s grown up surrounded by adults, although in very different circumstances 

(Camus is adamant on having his little angel home-schooled, since the alternative would be sending her to a boarding school in the mountains but he can’t uproot himself to join her there just yet due to work

His S/O is equally adamant she at the very least goes to a normal school and make friends with other children because their daughter is going to grow up in a literal ivory tower isolated from the rest of humanity over her dead body)

But she’s a little shy and doesn’t know how to approach them

Ranmaru’s daughter tends to stick to her big brother 

Then she spots Camus’ daughter fidgeting at the edge of the water, looking like she really wants to play with everyone else but is hesitant to do so

The Kurosaki siblings go over and take her hands, drawing her in to join them

Ranmaru’s son was the first boy to ever hold her hand

Little girl has her first crush when she looked up at him and he smiled back

(Camus, feeling a chill go down his body, fights tooth and nail to untangle himself from Reiji and Ranmaru and fly to his daughter’s side)

Ai’s son runs over when he sees them, excited that the little girl he’s always seen standing by the sidelines is finally here

Camus’ daughter’s heart melts when Ai’s son takes her hand and beams up at her

She’s never seen a boy younger than her, and so much smaller too!

Ai’s little son is normally shy and has a tendency to hide behind his parents’ legs when in public, but he’s very different with the other QN children whom he’s practically grown up with

He looks up to and sticks to Ranmaru’s son too, so he’s got two ducklings following him around everywhere he goes

Now with the addition of Camus’ daughter the duckling count has gone up to three

Both Kotobuki twins inherited their father’s boundless energy and appetite for fun

His son tends to be more on the serious side but enjoys a good prank like his sister

He and Ranmaru’s son are the ‘responsible’ ones who will pick up the younger kids and run like bats out of hell anytime a prank or joke goes wrong

The twins are the ones who come up with new games for everyone to play most of the time

Both of them have taken to calling Ranmaru’s son ‘Oniichan’, to his mild annoyance

Afternoon rolls around and both big and small stomachs are rumbling

Each papa brought their own homemade picnic lunch from home for potluck

Ai greatly approves of this

He’s a big believer in his boy getting as many experiences as possible, food included

Reiji’s karaage is naturally one of the more popular items on the menu, with Ran’s meatballs coming in a close second

Ai’s fruit and vitamin punch was left largely unfinished because it had more vitamins than fruit and tasted like it

(Both Ai and his son are puzzled by everyone’s reaction to the drink which was both healthy and absolutely fine to them, reminding all present that Ai’s little boy had inherited his father’s analytical taste buds)

Camus’ dessert tables (filled with nothing but cake and ice-cream and carried in by a crew) saved the day and everyone’s tongues

One table was graciously provided for the potluck

The other was reserved for him and his daughter, who to his dismay keeps trying to share her dessert with the Kurosaki spawn

The Kotobuki twins may be picky eaters but the sand and sea’s sharpened their appetites, making their father weep with joy when he saw empty plates and little hands holding them up, asking for seconds

Ranmaru’s drummed the principle of “clean your plate or starve” into his kids heads ever since they were old enough to eat solid food, so picky eating isn’t much of a problem for him

Except he isn’t exempted from every parent’s enemy of vegetables, which is a high hurdle for him to clear considering he’s not a fan of the green either

Apparently his children got around the ‘starving’ part of their father’s dining discipline by feeding their vegetables to the cats, technically still leaving their plates clean

Camus daughter has never eaten anything that wasn’t prepared by either her father or a professional chef, which should tell you enough about her upbringing

As mentioned, Ai’s son shares the same taste buds as his sire, hence he’ll eat anything and think it tastes alright

After lunch and a half-hour rest in the shade (with Ranmaru being awakened from his nap by his papa!radar going off and cracking open an eye to glare at any child who tries to sneak back on to the beach earlier than they’re supposed to), it’s back to the sun and waves and more fun

Ranmaru’s got his son hoisted up on his shoulders and his daughter hanging gleefully off one bicep, proudly showing off that he’s still got the muscles despite fatherhood

Reiji’s and his two-man army came armed with water soakers and are currently running for their lives from Camus, who is soaked and breathing frost and fury and advancing menacingly on the Kotobukis, his steps turning the surrounding water and sand to ice with his daughter perched on one arm, only slightly damp due to her father shielding her

Later on watermelons are brought out for an afternoon snack

The age-old game of watermelon smashing commences

When it’s Ranmaru’s turn to hit the watermelon he takes aim, spins and strikes alarmingly close to Camus, sending sand flying in all directions

“Eh, thought I sensed something soft headed around here. Guess my gut was right on the mark.”

He grins, taking off the blindfold and cracking his neck with an added smirk

Highly unamused, Camus feels around for the nearest thing at him to bash Ranmaru’s head in with, which turns out to be a plastic toy bucket still half-full with wet sand

Equally unamused and seeing red now, Ranmaru grabs another toy bucket, chooses an area of beach abundant with seashells and tiny crabs, fills it to the brim and dumps it down the back of Camus’ shirt

Their kids watching the sand, seashells and seaweed fly with the battle raging on 

(Good thing their wives had the foresight to pack more than one change of clothes for both the men and their kids)

Everyone eventually settles down to finish off the smashed watermelons

Ranmaru teaching the children how to spit out the seeds and unknowingly initiating a competition to see who can spit them the furthest

Camus has long carried away his daughter, mortified at her having to watch such a crass activity

Reiji’s been furiously taking photographs throughout the entire day and sending constant updates to his wifey at home

(He spams the Quartet Night group chat with the same photos and commentary later

Camus leaves the chat group in a fit of ire, only to be added back almost immediately by Reiji

“Myu-chan, you’re so careless! What’re you doing accidentally exiting the group chat like that? Think of all the news you’d have missed out on if I hadn’t noticed!”)

Closer to evening Ai’s son is worn out from playing and starts getting clingy with his father

“Hm? What’s the matter?” he asks him, rubbing his back with one hand. “Tired already?”

He presses his head against Ai’s shirt and pouts

“Want Mommy.”

“We still have three hours and forty-seven minutes left to go before we can see your mother. Do you want to take a nap in the shade first?”

“No. Want Mommy now!”

Off Ai goes, carrying away his cranky three-year-old to some place quiet where he can calmly explain to him how throwing a tantrum does not make time go by any faster

He returns an hour later, his toddler in his arms, now completely exhausted from his father’s lecture which turned out to be as hypnotic as a lullaby

Hearing Ai’s son whining for his mother makes the other children realise that they’ve gone an entire day without Mommy too

The mood’s going downhill fast, with all the adults frantically trying to stop their children from bursting into tears from suddenly missing their mothers

Reiji saves the day with a brilliant idea

“No summer night is complete without fireworks!”

Good thing he brought along enough to make Ai and Camus seriously worry about being caught by the police for possession of an abnormally large amount of explosives

Firecrackers, whizzlers, fountains, spinners, you name it, Reiji’s probably got more than ten of it

All papas present breath a sigh of relief when their children are distracted from thoughts of their mothers by the possibility of playing with something bright, shiny and noisy

Ai has his boy in his lap, placidly holding on to a sparkler

Baby boy wanted to do nothing but snuggle in his chest at first, but the bright lights and the noise the other children were making woke him up 

Camus hovering anxiously behind his little girl, a globe of water ready to materialize in his hand any second for fear that a stray firework might have the audacity to approach his angel

Ranmaru and Reiji’s children having the time of their lives running up and down the beach, setting off bottle rockets in the air

Ranmaru running after his kids when they gang up with the Kotobuki twins to chase Reiji down the length of the beach with roman candles at ready

At the end of the night, after cleaning up after themselves (junior chipping in to help), each papa carries their exhausted but happy child home in their arms, piling into the rented van

Camus is both stunned and aghast when his little girl tugs on the arm of Ran’s son, her head still resting against her father’s chest, and tells him to come and play again sometime

Ranmaru is just as mortified when the little boy yawns and nods

The two fathers share a mutual look of “WE SHALL NEVER SPEAK OF THIS AGAIN” before urgently bundling their children back home

Ran gives his confused son the “You can pick anyone you like, just not that one” talk

The poor man has never felt so threatened in his life before

Camus bathes his little girl in the Permafrost equivalent of holy water to exorcise whatever black magic that Kurosaki spawn must have cast on his precious angel

Reiji sends everyone home safe and sound

Bathes and carries both his children to bed and tucks them in

Pulls his wife down to sit next to him on the couch as he recounts the day and adds on even more commentary to the sea of photographs he had texted her throughout their day out

All of Quartet Night’s wives say the same thing to their exhausted husbands when they return home with sleeping children in their arms

“Welcome back. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

And they had to agree that it wasn’t

(Although whether they would do it again was still up for debate lol) 

[ur-mom-kayn]

Loyalty Chapter 37: The Shadow Owner

Akali Pov

What happened suddenly? Just before she could finally kill the noxious pig, her body stopped. She couldn’t do anything. While she was motionless, a mischievous smile appeared on Kayn's lips. "What did you do to me, you ass?" "Not me, but you upset my companion. Akio does not particularly like someone attacking one of his younger brothers. That's what you got yourself into." "Let me go!" Akali hissed. As if by magic, her right hand moved away from Kayn. She noticed that his companion made the same movement. What kind of technique was that? The guy was damn dangerous. Her whole body did not obey her. The guy had her completely under control. "Tell me. What kind of technique is that?" Kayn the bastard laughed very darkly. "That my love is the technique of shadow ownership." Just as Kayn uttered these words, she noticed that her shadow was linked to that of Akio. A discomfort spread in Akali.

"Akio has the affectionate epithet The Shadow Owner. He is able to set up his own will. You are at his mercy. Luckily he listens to my orders. Akio, please take the lady back to her seat." Akio nodded to Kayn and inevitably Akali had to do the same. She hated this situation more than anything else. She has never been so humiliated. While Akio took a few steps backward, Akali moved in the same motion. As she stood at the edge of the table, Akio jumped on the spot and freed her from the shadow shackles. She fell down uncontrollably on her ass. When she got up Kayn stood up and slammed his palms on the table. "What the fuck?! First, you disarm us at the entrance and now you attack us? The order will not be fooled!" Suddenly threatening, shadowy, red horns appeared over Kayn's head. Was that the Darkin in him?

The elders were scared to death in the presence of this beautiful monster. Nobody would have expected this look at Kayn. No one knew exactly how much he was still in control. "Please Kayn. Calm down again. The attack was not planned. I have to sincerely apologize to you for my student." Shen said. That could not be true. Akali did not regret her actions. In Ionia there was no room for Noxians and certainly not in the Council. Kayn took a deep breath and the horns disappeared. He then sat back down in his seat. "Another stupid move and we'll show you what Shadow Assassins are capable of," Kayn said. "Sry Kayn. It will not happen again." Irelia added. The bride must really have a crush on him. Even now that she knows he was a Noxian, she could not stop protecting him. Since the game night, he had wrapped her around the finger, even if he has fucked with Ahri.

"To come back to the subject now. Young man, are you really a Noxian or a demon? What was that before?" "I'm not a demon. I only share my body with a darkin. Unfortunately, he was banned earlier. And yes it is true. I am a Noxian. In the inversion, I was used at 10 years as a child soldier on Epul. Luckily, Master Zed found me. He gave me a home and made me become an Ionian from the ground up. I thought I'd get away with it, but unfortunately, my stupid uncle betrayed me." "I'm sorry, Kayn. I did not want to betray you. I just thought that you could spy on the Noxians. I did not want to make a sacrifice. Please accept a solid alliance with me as indemnity." "But Shen ... " Akali complained. "NOTHING BUT SHEN! You have already done enough. I do not want to hear a single word from you anymore. I will defend the coast with the order. Even though my father was against fighting Noxus, I will not let my brother hang again. If we do not help, it could be that the Noxians will invade deeper, as they did 8 years ago. That must stop!" All but Akali applauded Shen. She was tired of being commanded by him. It just went through the line that Zed always came before her. He keeps hiding private corridors to Zed or the fact that he was hiding a Noxian. That definitely went too far. Without hesitation, Akali left the conference. Now he can fight alone.

Shen Pov

After the conference, Shen went to see his student Akali. It had really cost him his nerves, which is why he actually shouted at her the first time. What did she think about the action? Kayn was a champion even without a day's work. An attack outside the rift was illegal. Only good that Akio could prevent the attack. His power was pretty scary, too. This stupid chest was never allowed to be opened. Now he had shadow doppelganger, shadow owner and Trespasser on the cheek. Before Shen made such an Order an enemy, he preferred to make common cause with Zed, even though it was against his moral concept.

At Akali's door, Shen knocked softly. "Fuck yourself, Shen!" He got an answer. "Please let us talk about it in peace. I beg you." Akali opened the door to him rather mischievously. With a look that could kill, she stared at him. "What do you want?" "Talk ... Why did you do that? Kayn did not hurt you. Besides, it was forbidden." "You're shitty serious? He is a rat in our ranks. He had to be eliminated. Want you seriously trust a Noxian under Zed's command?" "Yeah ... I was skeptical at first, but Kayn proved he was a good kid. Well, as good as you can be for a Shadowassasin. I understand that the times have changed." "And you understand that Zed has killed my father! Do you seriously ask me to form an alliance with my father's murderer?"

"Akali ... you know that I can not hold a grudge against Zed. It puts me out of balance." "Balance, balance, balance. The constant whining about balance is so annoying. I can not stand this anymore! Your idea of ​​balance is wrong. You are just as much a failure as your father. Do you know what Shen? Put your balance somewhere else. I'm out. Zed has always been more important to you than me. I can not bear it anymore." Shen did not feel good about it. She has never been so angry with him. "I ask you Akali. What's up with your mother? You wanted to take on her legacy as a fist of shadows or not?" "That's so damn shit. The title does not mean anything to me. Nor is the Kinkou clan. Tell my mother that I am gone. I'm leaving the clan." "Are you 100% sure you want to do that? Leave your home and your friends?" Akali relaxed her gaze but continued to look at him with confidence. "I am sure. I have to go my own way to finally find my destiny. The Kinkou clan is a burden, as is the balance. For now, I need your distance. I will apply for a vacation."

"Well. I have to accept that. But just so you know, there will always be a place in the Kinkou clan for you. Maybe a break is just right for you." Akali crossed her arms and looked skeptically at her former master. "That's amazingly grown of you. Thank you for not making it so difficult for me to quit." The young assassin took a step back and closed the door.

Zed Pov After his last match, Zed went to Kayn's room. There he found his pupil sitting on the edge of the bed like a wet blanket, together with Akio. That could not mean anything good. Zed closed the door behind him and removed his mask. With quiet steps, he approached his students. He crouched down and looked into Kayn's depressed face. "So what's going on? Did it get so crappy?" "Yeah ... everyone knows that I'm a Noxian." "Fuck ... How can that be ?! You are a perfectly trained Ionian. How are they supposed to expose you?", Zed tried to maintain a calm voice. He knew exactly how sensitive Kayn was to the subject. "It was not even my fault. Shen blew me up ..." "SHEN ?! Will the wanker fool me?" "No, but that's not the whole story. Afterwards, Akali attacked me immediately. Of course, she was allowed to get acquainted with the Shadow Owner because of the action. But not only that. After Akio caught her, Shen shouted at her and offered us a solid, official alliance." "You're kidding me, right? Shen is really ready to make a pact with the Order of Shadow? That's against the balance, is not it?" 

Kayn shook his head desperately. His students had no idea of ​​the philosophy of the Kinkou clan. Nevertheless, this action was very untypical for Shen. Especially yelling at his best friend was very unusual. Shen was the most emotionless bastard he knew. What was wrong with him? "And then what happened? How did the elders react to your background?" "Well ... after I was attacked, I got up and showed him my Darkin form a bit. They may have shit their pants. Anyway, my scene made sure that all of us made an alliance offer, as far as spying on the Noxians in return." Zed stared at Kayn stunned. He could not believe it. In just one conference, Kayn made sure Zed got a lot of power and for that, he just had to freak out. Why could he influence the people around him so much?

For a moment, Zed gave a damn about the presence of Akio. He took his friend in his arms and was not ashamed of it. He was damn proud of him. "Well done, my student." "Thank you, Master," he answered with half enthusiasm. He did not know him like that. His Kayn rubbed one always the success under the nose. But now he seemed very withdrawn. "Kayn, what's up? Why can not you be happy?" "I'm glad, but ... These looks ... The looks as they all learned I'm Noxian killed me. I have never felt so miserable in my life. I hate being a Noxian. I blew my ass so hard to become one of you and all the trouble was in vain. I do not want that. I do not want everyone to know who I am. I can live with it being a killer. I'm proud to be just like a Darkin hybrid. But I do not want to be associated with Noxus. This disappointment in Irelia's face. Or in Karma, or even Wukong, with whom I understand myself very well. I want that Ionia loves me. That they accept me and consider me one of them. The alliances arose more out of necessity than sympathy. How am I supposed to meet the other one now?"

Shen had done great damage. No one was allowed to make his boy sad, even if he proposed an alliance. That did not make the situation well for a long time. "Kayn, the other Ionians will accept you. Just talk to them. I'm sure they can still like you. And as for Shen, I'm going to pull his ears long. Do not wait for me." Zed got up and glanced at Akio, who told him to watch out for his little brother. Zed put on his mask again, left the room and went to his idiotic brother. Angered, he stormed into his room without knocking. "Shen you idiot! How dare you blow up my student? Kayn did not harm you! Shen ?! Shen ...? Brother ...?" Slowly Zed approached his brother room, who was lying in bed completely in tears.

[coolvanessadogsbodyfan]

Redemption returned

Grotesque is a word that got here to thoughts when a woman pulls her legs via the doors of a dirty clinic. She swayed, felt unusual chilly in that notably drained August countryside. But the rough surroundings was not to blame for the chilly surrounding his body. It was his purpose to step in. His world, filled with journey and joy, was now bullied. It had grow to be detached to him.

The woman was able to verify that there was a life that had been combined inside her for 5 weeks – the life she had fairly unintentionally helped to create an unlucky, drunk one night time

She felt the same sudden nausea that was involved each week before within the presence of a double line in a home being pregnant check window. Wait,. . . what do two strains mean? This can’t happen. He tore another check – two bold blue strains. S ***. He stepped out and pulled out without considering of a cigarette that remained secure till he threw it violently into the ground. Ugh, guess it out. He drove to his telephone within the early morning mild, he rolled his identify. He hesitated, then met it, and when the ring got here, he tried as soon as to take away the throat. "Hey, it's me. I'm sorry, I know it is early. Can you… Can you talk about the minutes?"

He had referred to as her to drive to the clinic, which was drained in the morning. Whether moral help or curiosity, he did not know and He was simply the only soul he had informed, principally his catholic colleague, pal, roommate and household he had to maintain in the dead of night. The thought of ​​telling them about this hellish mess was incomprehensible, even horrifying.

Nurse, kindly center an previous lady referred to as her back with a chipper. The woman glanced at her companion, and she or he took her hand rigorously to her, guided her to the exam room and helped her to the desk the place she hurriedly raised her shirt.

"Sorry, I have an hour," she muttered eyes fell. "Remember if we do this fast?"

"Of course", Sick The gunner answered sympathetically with a smile. ”Here we go, this seems a bit chilly for the second time. Let's see. Yeah, take a look at that cluster there? It's your child, honey. ”

The woman stared on the black and white image of the display as her coldness went warm and cozy with a dark numbness. He discovered his father's eyes, sincerely in search of his reaction to direct his personal difficult emotions. "I'm here every step of the way, no matter what you decide," he broke: "We are in this together, okay?"

He nodded and closed his eyes. Scorching, indignant tears nervous and tune his face. His body began to tighten and tremble. He pressured himself to observe his baby once more as a result of the contradictory thoughts ran in. I don't want you. You have been born to a mother who regretted you within the moment she noticed you. What if that is the one opportunity for a kid? What do I see extra? Here the rubber strikes the street. Can I stay with myself if I didn't say to you? I would like you. I want you. I hate you. I really like you.

The woman squeezed her hand and turned to the nurse. "Thank you," he stated, respiration deeply. "Yeah, what's next?"

"It's utterly yours, pricey. It's your body, isn't it? ”

– – –

5. August 2015, I made a decision to cease an individual who might have taken his first life on March 29, 2016. I like those days of mourning a toddler who existed however by no means lived outdoors my physique. I respect her by naming her, talking to her, crying for her, praying to her. For a kid who would have melted my coronary heart regardless of the terrible three. A youngster who would in all probability have stored me at night time in moms angst. The boy's father – and the younger man, husband and father – was robbed of the chance to return.

I mirrored sufferers back to this terrible August, many occasions, many occasions ever since, spending hours and hours hardly ultrasound. It’s wrinkled and worn out of my busy retreat to my hometown's arrow wound; as a result of once I stopped being pregnant, and left abruptly out of faculty, I found little purpose to remain. Each a part of me (theoretically) lives a Catholic, passionate graduate scholar, a hopeful author, an educational, a superb and trustworthy one that was crushed in a number of months. For me, these months have been recognized for years. I spent them buried deep in Netflix, hiding eating and crazy social media, feeling myself in the face of anger and contempt.

I received bone fracturing and nervous nausea. I have shed twenty kilos. My hair started to thin and fall. My skin turned pale, uninteresting, embedded. The art of conversation and human interplay slipped. I literally couldn't convey myself away from bed to eat, drink or even exit if I might help it. My buddies began to fret, however I ignored their call and hid in my room once they tried to examine me out. My household had gone to panic, wondering what was incorrect with me. I used to be astonishingly shortly destroyed my former self in a fragile shell.

When a bright-eyed woman with a vivid shell discovered myself tireless, that was the thing of this unforgivable Evil I had completed. This factor I might by no means take again. This thing, as I firmly consider years later, which I might by no means forgive myself – and by no means forgive by God or man.

It’s typically stated that God's work in our life is a mystery that we might be foolish to attempt to understand. I was so scared to share my nervousness about what I might have completed to a toddler – the soul I might have created together with a careless, lustful renunciation – that I didn't dare to go close to the church for almost a yr. I used to be satisfied that I used to be committed to hell and I was out of all salvation. My desperation stored me so tight that I felt I might by no means smile again. It’s unimaginable to imagine that I might ever love – or be beloved – again. For who might love me after I had carried out one thing so selfish, so terrifying?

And I had carried out this for a simple cause that I felt like I couldn’t be a single mother because I used to be determined to be afraid that my attack on high functioning alcoholism quickly began. I moved with my mother and father and began a job search as a result of the unfinished diploma was virtually ineffective. During this era of unemployment began to mingle eagerly, hopping from group to group, in order that nobody would discover how much I drank. Soon, what I referred to as a "social" drink turned normal on most days of the week – 4 or 5 robust drinks. I typically ran residence to my disgrace once I was quite upset – but I never thought I used to be consuming. Spend the weekends with a spell of different "friends" who did not know me afterwards. Sleeping, sleep deprived on a regular basis mornings have been my new commonplace.

Over the subsequent two years, I was capable of plan workplaces that assorted extensively between publishing and cutting-edge know-how for international intelligence and fundraising, however I never took a long time to get kicked out of each job. I used to be indignant, unknown and boastful, clocked out and in with out problem learning and working with others. I hid my wrestle with the inadequacy of indulging in a corrosive comparability by way of social media with other Millennials who I imagined was a perfect and carefree life. This rising resentment unfold shortly and became firmly rooted in My Character. I used to be miserable and shimmering, unable to be thankful for what I had: a loving household, monetary and emotional help, and pals who pale the recurring storms of our atmospheric and isolated occasions.

escape MO did work,. . . Until it was. July 21, 2017 I was (rightly) arrested for drunk driving.

I consider that in the shadow of doubt, if I had not been arrested, I might have determined to kill myself or one other individual, God's ban. I spent twenty-four horrifying hours in jail until my father and brother saved me. Once we drove residence in hidden silence, I used to be amazed at the terrible implementation of what I might have accomplished. I had found the base. After years of failure – personal, skilled, and religious – I was desperate to vary my life. However how? What might probably be a enough substitute for the fact that alcohol has all the time given me, without failure?

At night time, my younger brother, Tacos, fell sharply, however kindly asked me to get assist with all the things he needed. He advised me that the twister I had come – to tear my approach within the lives of others, in addition to mine – was not acceptable. Simply two weeks after my arrest, I came across a help group for alcohol use. It is a marvelous organization that has helped me to realize and keep respect for alcohol since October 2, 2017. By means of day by day meetings, lively service, religious self-discipline and a singular connection, it has now turn into a mannequin of my life.

Without it, I couldn’t have referred to as the facility to forgive myself, let go of my previous and let God construct with me and do with me the best way He needs. Solely once I search for assist, I might see my despair not as a curse however as a present

Typically, as Paul Newman's Luke Jackson says, there may be no real cool hand.

– – –

Once I ran into this furious group, hungry for the which means and function that had looked at me in Catholicism, I discovered myself wandering atheism, agnostism and Buddhism. My anger in the direction of the Church swept and slowly eroded the assumption every day.

Then, once I was working in the twelve steps, I slowly started to experience mental change and religious awakening. I’ve discovered to differentiate uskonni foaming petition sentimental and superficial sentimentality, which had all the time given me permission to share myself and Mr. Dr. Jekylliin Hydeen. I might be my Catholic Character once I took random sexual encounters which are typically delivered to a fruitless company to destroy my conscience. In my social life, I turned an professional in mask Jungian when anybody else of morphene needed me to be. Without the self-sufficiency of the interior mechanism I’ve discovered to control others to awaken specific emotions that might strengthen increasingly more delicate and fleeting self. I obtained in and went to my beloved one's life as I used to be happy with the livid and chaotic hurricane without remorse.

Once I finally referred to as for the braveness to ask God (and myself) for forgiveness, I used to be not on the lookout for a Catholic priest. As an alternative, my "liberty" and healing got here from David, a self-described brazenly homosexual, seventies, whose deviation from the priesthood forty years in the past induced cruel wounds that persecuted him at the moment. We developed intimate recent friendships that I might be grateful eternally. Through the years, my trauma broke down David's palms late within the night time as he struck uncontrollably as he held me a starry, quiet sky.

"Why are you crying?" He asked for a while. [19659002] "I am… Bad," vapors of the wells. "I can not forgive. I'm a murderer. I have killed my own child."

David checked out me mix of horror and compassion. "But you have not destroyed or convicted. You have got been redeemed via Christ. He beloved you then. He loves you very much. ”

Tears stopped all of a sudden, obtrusive respiration slowed." Is he? "I asked, vast eyes and I was afraid of his answer." How can you be so sure? " 19659002] "Because He is greater than any pain you suffered, suffered now or ever", David replied with a relaxing peace that stopped me on my tracks. "You've heard from us a thousand occasions – pay attention! Get away from God whenever you perceive God. Trust Him day by day. Clear the home every single day, serve others, day by day, and then do it once more the subsequent day. In the future at a time. ”

I might simply stare at him foolish I replied vividly that a tremendous smile, his eyes shining when he stated, "I believe so." You must attempt it. ”

So I did.

Maddeningly slowly but certainly, bodily, mental, emotional, and mental sensitivity began to forgive me the uninteresting pain that was not only struck out I need to reside. I threw myself again into my very own life and confirmed increasingly more to my family members – typically in nice ways, but principally in small ones. Every time I made a mistake, I admitted it instantly and asked God what corrective measures I should take. I gave Him a self-discipline to my wild and obscure spirit as my line of will – which had previously been in riot – was ever nearer to Him.

I started to wish every morning and night for others as an alternative of myself. Although this was initially mechanical, I really began to study what was referred to as to me a man and a lady who continues to be sick. I ended preventing my demons and confessed them. Each time I felt aroused or suspicious, I interrupted and requested God to assume or act, which might give me the braveness to adapt the serenity to the accident.

In the long run, he lit the trail to my house church – when I discovered a unprecedented compassion and a resignation from the same Catholic group that I had wrongly assumed would condemn me strictly. But I'm sad that we acerbic-cultural and non secular dialogue provides rise to unnecessary suffering of different ladies who, like me, noticed solely despair and hope within the midst of demise and new life. I say to them: You’ll never ever be alone.

Is that this a cheerful return house that answers come once I need them to be? Typically. At different occasions I can't see them, and ask him for steerage or pay attention in a different way

Have you ever discovered to be pleased more often than not? Isn't that the case?

It's by no means. I mean by no means.

I mean this: As soon as upon a time my detached world has turn into enchanted. I mean, I started digging my life again. I've discovered to offer myself a dream once more, attempt once more, fail once more, love once more, harm once more – not again.

I even dared to chuckle at myself and with the world again. And that is the miracle.

The post Redemption returned appeared first on Android Illustrated.

[yourjuulfriend22-fan]

Redemption returned

Grotesque is a word that got here to thoughts when a woman pulls her legs via the doors of a dirty clinic. She swayed, felt unusual chilly in that notably drained August countryside. But the rough surroundings was not to blame for the chilly surrounding his body. It was his purpose to step in. His world, filled with journey and joy, was now bullied. It had grow to be detached to him.

The woman was able to verify that there was a life that had been combined inside her for 5 weeks – the life she had fairly unintentionally helped to create an unlucky, drunk one night time

She felt the same sudden nausea that was involved each week before within the presence of a double line in a home being pregnant check window. Wait,. . . what do two strains mean? This can’t happen. He tore another check – two bold blue strains. S ***. He stepped out and pulled out without considering of a cigarette that remained secure till he threw it violently into the ground. Ugh, guess it out. He drove to his telephone within the early morning mild, he rolled his identify. He hesitated, then met it, and when the ring got here, he tried as soon as to take away the throat. "Hey, it's me. I'm sorry, I know it is early. Can you… Can you talk about the minutes?"

He had referred to as her to drive to the clinic, which was drained in the morning. Whether moral help or curiosity, he did not know and He was simply the only soul he had informed, principally his catholic colleague, pal, roommate and household he had to maintain in the dead of night. The thought of ​​telling them about this hellish mess was incomprehensible, even horrifying.

Nurse, kindly center an previous lady referred to as her back with a chipper. The woman glanced at her companion, and she or he took her hand rigorously to her, guided her to the exam room and helped her to the desk the place she hurriedly raised her shirt.

"Sorry, I have an hour," she muttered eyes fell. "Remember if we do this fast?"

"Of course", Sick The gunner answered sympathetically with a smile. ”Here we go, this seems a bit chilly for the second time. Let's see. Yeah, take a look at that cluster there? It's your child, honey. ”

The woman stared on the black and white image of the display as her coldness went warm and cozy with a dark numbness. He discovered his father's eyes, sincerely in search of his reaction to direct his personal difficult emotions. "I'm here every step of the way, no matter what you decide," he broke: "We are in this together, okay?"

He nodded and closed his eyes. Scorching, indignant tears nervous and tune his face. His body began to tighten and tremble. He pressured himself to observe his baby once more as a result of the contradictory thoughts ran in. I don't want you. You have been born to a mother who regretted you within the moment she noticed you. What if that is the one opportunity for a kid? What do I see extra? Here the rubber strikes the street. Can I stay with myself if I didn't say to you? I would like you. I want you. I hate you. I really like you.

The woman squeezed her hand and turned to the nurse. "Thank you," he stated, respiration deeply. "Yeah, what's next?"

"It's utterly yours, pricey. It's your body, isn't it? ”

– – –

5. August 2015, I made a decision to cease an individual who might have taken his first life on March 29, 2016. I like those days of mourning a toddler who existed however by no means lived outdoors my physique. I respect her by naming her, talking to her, crying for her, praying to her. For a kid who would have melted my coronary heart regardless of the terrible three. A youngster who would in all probability have stored me at night time in moms angst. The boy's father – and the younger man, husband and father – was robbed of the chance to return.

I mirrored sufferers back to this terrible August, many occasions, many occasions ever since, spending hours and hours hardly ultrasound. It’s wrinkled and worn out of my busy retreat to my hometown's arrow wound; as a result of once I stopped being pregnant, and left abruptly out of faculty, I found little purpose to remain. Each a part of me (theoretically) lives a Catholic, passionate graduate scholar, a hopeful author, an educational, a superb and trustworthy one that was crushed in a number of months. For me, these months have been recognized for years. I spent them buried deep in Netflix, hiding eating and crazy social media, feeling myself in the face of anger and contempt.

I received bone fracturing and nervous nausea. I have shed twenty kilos. My hair started to thin and fall. My skin turned pale, uninteresting, embedded. The art of conversation and human interplay slipped. I literally couldn't convey myself away from bed to eat, drink or even exit if I might help it. My buddies began to fret, however I ignored their call and hid in my room once they tried to examine me out. My household had gone to panic, wondering what was incorrect with me. I used to be astonishingly shortly destroyed my former self in a fragile shell.

When a bright-eyed woman with a vivid shell discovered myself tireless, that was the thing of this unforgivable Evil I had completed. This factor I might by no means take again. This thing, as I firmly consider years later, which I might by no means forgive myself – and by no means forgive by God or man.

It’s typically stated that God's work in our life is a mystery that we might be foolish to attempt to understand. I was so scared to share my nervousness about what I might have completed to a toddler – the soul I might have created together with a careless, lustful renunciation – that I didn't dare to go close to the church for almost a yr. I used to be satisfied that I used to be committed to hell and I was out of all salvation. My desperation stored me so tight that I felt I might by no means smile again. It’s unimaginable to imagine that I might ever love – or be beloved – again. For who might love me after I had carried out one thing so selfish, so terrifying?

And I had carried out this for a simple cause that I felt like I couldn’t be a single mother because I used to be determined to be afraid that my attack on high functioning alcoholism quickly began. I moved with my mother and father and began a job search as a result of the unfinished diploma was virtually ineffective. During this era of unemployment began to mingle eagerly, hopping from group to group, in order that nobody would discover how much I drank. Soon, what I referred to as a "social" drink turned normal on most days of the week – 4 or 5 robust drinks. I typically ran residence to my disgrace once I was quite upset – but I never thought I used to be consuming. Spend the weekends with a spell of different "friends" who did not know me afterwards. Sleeping, sleep deprived on a regular basis mornings have been my new commonplace.

Over the subsequent two years, I was capable of plan workplaces that assorted extensively between publishing and cutting-edge know-how for international intelligence and fundraising, however I never took a long time to get kicked out of each job. I used to be indignant, unknown and boastful, clocked out and in with out problem learning and working with others. I hid my wrestle with the inadequacy of indulging in a corrosive comparability by way of social media with other Millennials who I imagined was a perfect and carefree life. This rising resentment unfold shortly and became firmly rooted in My Character. I used to be miserable and shimmering, unable to be thankful for what I had: a loving household, monetary and emotional help, and pals who pale the recurring storms of our atmospheric and isolated occasions.

escape MO did work,. . . Until it was. July 21, 2017 I was (rightly) arrested for drunk driving.

I consider that in the shadow of doubt, if I had not been arrested, I might have determined to kill myself or one other individual, God's ban. I spent twenty-four horrifying hours in jail until my father and brother saved me. Once we drove residence in hidden silence, I used to be amazed at the terrible implementation of what I might have accomplished. I had found the base. After years of failure – personal, skilled, and religious – I was desperate to vary my life. However how? What might probably be a enough substitute for the fact that alcohol has all the time given me, without failure?

At night time, my younger brother, Tacos, fell sharply, however kindly asked me to get assist with all the things he needed. He advised me that the twister I had come – to tear my approach within the lives of others, in addition to mine – was not acceptable. Simply two weeks after my arrest, I came across a help group for alcohol use. It is a marvelous organization that has helped me to realize and keep respect for alcohol since October 2, 2017. By means of day by day meetings, lively service, religious self-discipline and a singular connection, it has now turn into a mannequin of my life.

Without it, I couldn’t have referred to as the facility to forgive myself, let go of my previous and let God construct with me and do with me the best way He needs. Solely once I search for assist, I might see my despair not as a curse however as a present

Typically, as Paul Newman's Luke Jackson says, there may be no real cool hand.

– – –

Once I ran into this furious group, hungry for the which means and function that had looked at me in Catholicism, I discovered myself wandering atheism, agnostism and Buddhism. My anger in the direction of the Church swept and slowly eroded the assumption every day.

Then, once I was working in the twelve steps, I slowly started to experience mental change and religious awakening. I’ve discovered to differentiate uskonni foaming petition sentimental and superficial sentimentality, which had all the time given me permission to share myself and Mr. Dr. Jekylliin Hydeen. I might be my Catholic Character once I took random sexual encounters which are typically delivered to a fruitless company to destroy my conscience. In my social life, I turned an professional in mask Jungian when anybody else of morphene needed me to be. Without the self-sufficiency of the interior mechanism I’ve discovered to control others to awaken specific emotions that might strengthen increasingly more delicate and fleeting self. I obtained in and went to my beloved one's life as I used to be happy with the livid and chaotic hurricane without remorse.

Once I finally referred to as for the braveness to ask God (and myself) for forgiveness, I used to be not on the lookout for a Catholic priest. As an alternative, my "liberty" and healing got here from David, a self-described brazenly homosexual, seventies, whose deviation from the priesthood forty years in the past induced cruel wounds that persecuted him at the moment. We developed intimate recent friendships that I might be grateful eternally. Through the years, my trauma broke down David's palms late within the night time as he struck uncontrollably as he held me a starry, quiet sky.

"Why are you crying?" He asked for a while. [19659002] "I am… Bad," vapors of the wells. "I can not forgive. I'm a murderer. I have killed my own child."

David checked out me mix of horror and compassion. "But you have not destroyed or convicted. You have got been redeemed via Christ. He beloved you then. He loves you very much. ”

Tears stopped all of a sudden, obtrusive respiration slowed." Is he? "I asked, vast eyes and I was afraid of his answer." How can you be so sure? " 19659002] "Because He is greater than any pain you suffered, suffered now or ever", David replied with a relaxing peace that stopped me on my tracks. "You've heard from us a thousand occasions – pay attention! Get away from God whenever you perceive God. Trust Him day by day. Clear the home every single day, serve others, day by day, and then do it once more the subsequent day. In the future at a time. ”

I might simply stare at him foolish I replied vividly that a tremendous smile, his eyes shining when he stated, "I believe so." You must attempt it. ”

So I did.

Maddeningly slowly but certainly, bodily, mental, emotional, and mental sensitivity began to forgive me the uninteresting pain that was not only struck out I need to reside. I threw myself again into my very own life and confirmed increasingly more to my family members – typically in nice ways, but principally in small ones. Every time I made a mistake, I admitted it instantly and asked God what corrective measures I should take. I gave Him a self-discipline to my wild and obscure spirit as my line of will – which had previously been in riot – was ever nearer to Him.

I started to wish every morning and night for others as an alternative of myself. Although this was initially mechanical, I really began to study what was referred to as to me a man and a lady who continues to be sick. I ended preventing my demons and confessed them. Each time I felt aroused or suspicious, I interrupted and requested God to assume or act, which might give me the braveness to adapt the serenity to the accident.

In the long run, he lit the trail to my house church – when I discovered a unprecedented compassion and a resignation from the same Catholic group that I had wrongly assumed would condemn me strictly. But I'm sad that we acerbic-cultural and non secular dialogue provides rise to unnecessary suffering of different ladies who, like me, noticed solely despair and hope within the midst of demise and new life. I say to them: You’ll never ever be alone.

Is that this a cheerful return house that answers come once I need them to be? Typically. At different occasions I can't see them, and ask him for steerage or pay attention in a different way

Have you ever discovered to be pleased more often than not? Isn't that the case?

It's by no means. I mean by no means.

I mean this: As soon as upon a time my detached world has turn into enchanted. I mean, I started digging my life again. I've discovered to offer myself a dream once more, attempt once more, fail once more, love once more, harm once more – not again.

I even dared to chuckle at myself and with the world again. And that is the miracle.

The post Redemption returned appeared first on Android Illustrated.

[little-big-world-in-the-tim-blog]

Redemption returned

Grotesque is a word that got here to thoughts when a woman pulls her legs via the doors of a dirty clinic. She swayed, felt unusual chilly in that notably drained August countryside. But the rough surroundings was not to blame for the chilly surrounding his body. It was his purpose to step in. His world, filled with journey and joy, was now bullied. It had grow to be detached to him.

The woman was able to verify that there was a life that had been combined inside her for 5 weeks – the life she had fairly unintentionally helped to create an unlucky, drunk one night time

She felt the same sudden nausea that was involved each week before within the presence of a double line in a home being pregnant check window. Wait,. . . what do two strains mean? This can’t happen. He tore another check – two bold blue strains. S ***. He stepped out and pulled out without considering of a cigarette that remained secure till he threw it violently into the ground. Ugh, guess it out. He drove to his telephone within the early morning mild, he rolled his identify. He hesitated, then met it, and when the ring got here, he tried as soon as to take away the throat. "Hey, it's me. I'm sorry, I know it is early. Can you… Can you talk about the minutes?"

He had referred to as her to drive to the clinic, which was drained in the morning. Whether moral help or curiosity, he did not know and He was simply the only soul he had informed, principally his catholic colleague, pal, roommate and household he had to maintain in the dead of night. The thought of ​​telling them about this hellish mess was incomprehensible, even horrifying.

Nurse, kindly center an previous lady referred to as her back with a chipper. The woman glanced at her companion, and she or he took her hand rigorously to her, guided her to the exam room and helped her to the desk the place she hurriedly raised her shirt.

"Sorry, I have an hour," she muttered eyes fell. "Remember if we do this fast?"

"Of course", Sick The gunner answered sympathetically with a smile. ”Here we go, this seems a bit chilly for the second time. Let's see. Yeah, take a look at that cluster there? It's your child, honey. ”

The woman stared on the black and white image of the display as her coldness went warm and cozy with a dark numbness. He discovered his father's eyes, sincerely in search of his reaction to direct his personal difficult emotions. "I'm here every step of the way, no matter what you decide," he broke: "We are in this together, okay?"

He nodded and closed his eyes. Scorching, indignant tears nervous and tune his face. His body began to tighten and tremble. He pressured himself to observe his baby once more as a result of the contradictory thoughts ran in. I don't want you. You have been born to a mother who regretted you within the moment she noticed you. What if that is the one opportunity for a kid? What do I see extra? Here the rubber strikes the street. Can I stay with myself if I didn't say to you? I would like you. I want you. I hate you. I really like you.

The woman squeezed her hand and turned to the nurse. "Thank you," he stated, respiration deeply. "Yeah, what's next?"

"It's utterly yours, pricey. It's your body, isn't it? ”

– – –

5. August 2015, I made a decision to cease an individual who might have taken his first life on March 29, 2016. I like those days of mourning a toddler who existed however by no means lived outdoors my physique. I respect her by naming her, talking to her, crying for her, praying to her. For a kid who would have melted my coronary heart regardless of the terrible three. A youngster who would in all probability have stored me at night time in moms angst. The boy's father – and the younger man, husband and father – was robbed of the chance to return.

I mirrored sufferers back to this terrible August, many occasions, many occasions ever since, spending hours and hours hardly ultrasound. It’s wrinkled and worn out of my busy retreat to my hometown's arrow wound; as a result of once I stopped being pregnant, and left abruptly out of faculty, I found little purpose to remain. Each a part of me (theoretically) lives a Catholic, passionate graduate scholar, a hopeful author, an educational, a superb and trustworthy one that was crushed in a number of months. For me, these months have been recognized for years. I spent them buried deep in Netflix, hiding eating and crazy social media, feeling myself in the face of anger and contempt.

I received bone fracturing and nervous nausea. I have shed twenty kilos. My hair started to thin and fall. My skin turned pale, uninteresting, embedded. The art of conversation and human interplay slipped. I literally couldn't convey myself away from bed to eat, drink or even exit if I might help it. My buddies began to fret, however I ignored their call and hid in my room once they tried to examine me out. My household had gone to panic, wondering what was incorrect with me. I used to be astonishingly shortly destroyed my former self in a fragile shell.

When a bright-eyed woman with a vivid shell discovered myself tireless, that was the thing of this unforgivable Evil I had completed. This factor I might by no means take again. This thing, as I firmly consider years later, which I might by no means forgive myself – and by no means forgive by God or man.

It’s typically stated that God's work in our life is a mystery that we might be foolish to attempt to understand. I was so scared to share my nervousness about what I might have completed to a toddler – the soul I might have created together with a careless, lustful renunciation – that I didn't dare to go close to the church for almost a yr. I used to be satisfied that I used to be committed to hell and I was out of all salvation. My desperation stored me so tight that I felt I might by no means smile again. It’s unimaginable to imagine that I might ever love – or be beloved – again. For who might love me after I had carried out one thing so selfish, so terrifying?

And I had carried out this for a simple cause that I felt like I couldn’t be a single mother because I used to be determined to be afraid that my attack on high functioning alcoholism quickly began. I moved with my mother and father and began a job search as a result of the unfinished diploma was virtually ineffective. During this era of unemployment began to mingle eagerly, hopping from group to group, in order that nobody would discover how much I drank. Soon, what I referred to as a "social" drink turned normal on most days of the week – 4 or 5 robust drinks. I typically ran residence to my disgrace once I was quite upset – but I never thought I used to be consuming. Spend the weekends with a spell of different "friends" who did not know me afterwards. Sleeping, sleep deprived on a regular basis mornings have been my new commonplace.

Over the subsequent two years, I was capable of plan workplaces that assorted extensively between publishing and cutting-edge know-how for international intelligence and fundraising, however I never took a long time to get kicked out of each job. I used to be indignant, unknown and boastful, clocked out and in with out problem learning and working with others. I hid my wrestle with the inadequacy of indulging in a corrosive comparability by way of social media with other Millennials who I imagined was a perfect and carefree life. This rising resentment unfold shortly and became firmly rooted in My Character. I used to be miserable and shimmering, unable to be thankful for what I had: a loving household, monetary and emotional help, and pals who pale the recurring storms of our atmospheric and isolated occasions.

escape MO did work,. . . Until it was. July 21, 2017 I was (rightly) arrested for drunk driving.

I consider that in the shadow of doubt, if I had not been arrested, I might have determined to kill myself or one other individual, God's ban. I spent twenty-four horrifying hours in jail until my father and brother saved me. Once we drove residence in hidden silence, I used to be amazed at the terrible implementation of what I might have accomplished. I had found the base. After years of failure – personal, skilled, and religious – I was desperate to vary my life. However how? What might probably be a enough substitute for the fact that alcohol has all the time given me, without failure?

At night time, my younger brother, Tacos, fell sharply, however kindly asked me to get assist with all the things he needed. He advised me that the twister I had come – to tear my approach within the lives of others, in addition to mine – was not acceptable. Simply two weeks after my arrest, I came across a help group for alcohol use. It is a marvelous organization that has helped me to realize and keep respect for alcohol since October 2, 2017. By means of day by day meetings, lively service, religious self-discipline and a singular connection, it has now turn into a mannequin of my life.

Without it, I couldn’t have referred to as the facility to forgive myself, let go of my previous and let God construct with me and do with me the best way He needs. Solely once I search for assist, I might see my despair not as a curse however as a present

Typically, as Paul Newman's Luke Jackson says, there may be no real cool hand.

– – –

Once I ran into this furious group, hungry for the which means and function that had looked at me in Catholicism, I discovered myself wandering atheism, agnostism and Buddhism. My anger in the direction of the Church swept and slowly eroded the assumption every day.

Then, once I was working in the twelve steps, I slowly started to experience mental change and religious awakening. I’ve discovered to differentiate uskonni foaming petition sentimental and superficial sentimentality, which had all the time given me permission to share myself and Mr. Dr. Jekylliin Hydeen. I might be my Catholic Character once I took random sexual encounters which are typically delivered to a fruitless company to destroy my conscience. In my social life, I turned an professional in mask Jungian when anybody else of morphene needed me to be. Without the self-sufficiency of the interior mechanism I’ve discovered to control others to awaken specific emotions that might strengthen increasingly more delicate and fleeting self. I obtained in and went to my beloved one's life as I used to be happy with the livid and chaotic hurricane without remorse.

Once I finally referred to as for the braveness to ask God (and myself) for forgiveness, I used to be not on the lookout for a Catholic priest. As an alternative, my "liberty" and healing got here from David, a self-described brazenly homosexual, seventies, whose deviation from the priesthood forty years in the past induced cruel wounds that persecuted him at the moment. We developed intimate recent friendships that I might be grateful eternally. Through the years, my trauma broke down David's palms late within the night time as he struck uncontrollably as he held me a starry, quiet sky.

"Why are you crying?" He asked for a while. [19659002] "I am… Bad," vapors of the wells. "I can not forgive. I'm a murderer. I have killed my own child."

David checked out me mix of horror and compassion. "But you have not destroyed or convicted. You have got been redeemed via Christ. He beloved you then. He loves you very much. ”

Tears stopped all of a sudden, obtrusive respiration slowed." Is he? "I asked, vast eyes and I was afraid of his answer." How can you be so sure? " 19659002] "Because He is greater than any pain you suffered, suffered now or ever", David replied with a relaxing peace that stopped me on my tracks. "You've heard from us a thousand occasions – pay attention! Get away from God whenever you perceive God. Trust Him day by day. Clear the home every single day, serve others, day by day, and then do it once more the subsequent day. In the future at a time. ”

I might simply stare at him foolish I replied vividly that a tremendous smile, his eyes shining when he stated, "I believe so." You must attempt it. ”

So I did.

Maddeningly slowly but certainly, bodily, mental, emotional, and mental sensitivity began to forgive me the uninteresting pain that was not only struck out I need to reside. I threw myself again into my very own life and confirmed increasingly more to my family members – typically in nice ways, but principally in small ones. Every time I made a mistake, I admitted it instantly and asked God what corrective measures I should take. I gave Him a self-discipline to my wild and obscure spirit as my line of will – which had previously been in riot – was ever nearer to Him.

I started to wish every morning and night for others as an alternative of myself. Although this was initially mechanical, I really began to study what was referred to as to me a man and a lady who continues to be sick. I ended preventing my demons and confessed them. Each time I felt aroused or suspicious, I interrupted and requested God to assume or act, which might give me the braveness to adapt the serenity to the accident.

In the long run, he lit the trail to my house church – when I discovered a unprecedented compassion and a resignation from the same Catholic group that I had wrongly assumed would condemn me strictly. But I'm sad that we acerbic-cultural and non secular dialogue provides rise to unnecessary suffering of different ladies who, like me, noticed solely despair and hope within the midst of demise and new life. I say to them: You’ll never ever be alone.

Is that this a cheerful return house that answers come once I need them to be? Typically. At different occasions I can't see them, and ask him for steerage or pay attention in a different way

Have you ever discovered to be pleased more often than not? Isn't that the case?

It's by no means. I mean by no means.

I mean this: As soon as upon a time my detached world has turn into enchanted. I mean, I started digging my life again. I've discovered to offer myself a dream once more, attempt once more, fail once more, love once more, harm once more – not again.

I even dared to chuckle at myself and with the world again. And that is the miracle.

The post Redemption returned appeared first on Android Illustrated.

[unyielding-black-blog]

Redemption returned

Grotesque is a word that got here to thoughts when a woman pulls her legs via the doors of a dirty clinic. She swayed, felt unusual chilly in that notably drained August countryside. But the rough surroundings was not to blame for the chilly surrounding his body. It was his purpose to step in. His world, filled with journey and joy, was now bullied. It had grow to be detached to him.

The woman was able to verify that there was a life that had been combined inside her for 5 weeks – the life she had fairly unintentionally helped to create an unlucky, drunk one night time

She felt the same sudden nausea that was involved each week before within the presence of a double line in a home being pregnant check window. Wait,. . . what do two strains mean? This can’t happen. He tore another check – two bold blue strains. S ***. He stepped out and pulled out without considering of a cigarette that remained secure till he threw it violently into the ground. Ugh, guess it out. He drove to his telephone within the early morning mild, he rolled his identify. He hesitated, then met it, and when the ring got here, he tried as soon as to take away the throat. "Hey, it's me. I'm sorry, I know it is early. Can you… Can you talk about the minutes?"

He had referred to as her to drive to the clinic, which was drained in the morning. Whether moral help or curiosity, he did not know and He was simply the only soul he had informed, principally his catholic colleague, pal, roommate and household he had to maintain in the dead of night. The thought of ​​telling them about this hellish mess was incomprehensible, even horrifying.

Nurse, kindly center an previous lady referred to as her back with a chipper. The woman glanced at her companion, and she or he took her hand rigorously to her, guided her to the exam room and helped her to the desk the place she hurriedly raised her shirt.

"Sorry, I have an hour," she muttered eyes fell. "Remember if we do this fast?"

"Of course", Sick The gunner answered sympathetically with a smile. ”Here we go, this seems a bit chilly for the second time. Let's see. Yeah, take a look at that cluster there? It's your child, honey. ”

The woman stared on the black and white image of the display as her coldness went warm and cozy with a dark numbness. He discovered his father's eyes, sincerely in search of his reaction to direct his personal difficult emotions. "I'm here every step of the way, no matter what you decide," he broke: "We are in this together, okay?"

He nodded and closed his eyes. Scorching, indignant tears nervous and tune his face. His body began to tighten and tremble. He pressured himself to observe his baby once more as a result of the contradictory thoughts ran in. I don't want you. You have been born to a mother who regretted you within the moment she noticed you. What if that is the one opportunity for a kid? What do I see extra? Here the rubber strikes the street. Can I stay with myself if I didn't say to you? I would like you. I want you. I hate you. I really like you.

The woman squeezed her hand and turned to the nurse. "Thank you," he stated, respiration deeply. "Yeah, what's next?"

"It's utterly yours, pricey. It's your body, isn't it? ”

– – –

5. August 2015, I made a decision to cease an individual who might have taken his first life on March 29, 2016. I like those days of mourning a toddler who existed however by no means lived outdoors my physique. I respect her by naming her, talking to her, crying for her, praying to her. For a kid who would have melted my coronary heart regardless of the terrible three. A youngster who would in all probability have stored me at night time in moms angst. The boy's father – and the younger man, husband and father – was robbed of the chance to return.

I mirrored sufferers back to this terrible August, many occasions, many occasions ever since, spending hours and hours hardly ultrasound. It’s wrinkled and worn out of my busy retreat to my hometown's arrow wound; as a result of once I stopped being pregnant, and left abruptly out of faculty, I found little purpose to remain. Each a part of me (theoretically) lives a Catholic, passionate graduate scholar, a hopeful author, an educational, a superb and trustworthy one that was crushed in a number of months. For me, these months have been recognized for years. I spent them buried deep in Netflix, hiding eating and crazy social media, feeling myself in the face of anger and contempt.

I received bone fracturing and nervous nausea. I have shed twenty kilos. My hair started to thin and fall. My skin turned pale, uninteresting, embedded. The art of conversation and human interplay slipped. I literally couldn't convey myself away from bed to eat, drink or even exit if I might help it. My buddies began to fret, however I ignored their call and hid in my room once they tried to examine me out. My household had gone to panic, wondering what was incorrect with me. I used to be astonishingly shortly destroyed my former self in a fragile shell.

When a bright-eyed woman with a vivid shell discovered myself tireless, that was the thing of this unforgivable Evil I had completed. This factor I might by no means take again. This thing, as I firmly consider years later, which I might by no means forgive myself – and by no means forgive by God or man.

It’s typically stated that God's work in our life is a mystery that we might be foolish to attempt to understand. I was so scared to share my nervousness about what I might have completed to a toddler – the soul I might have created together with a careless, lustful renunciation – that I didn't dare to go close to the church for almost a yr. I used to be satisfied that I used to be committed to hell and I was out of all salvation. My desperation stored me so tight that I felt I might by no means smile again. It’s unimaginable to imagine that I might ever love – or be beloved – again. For who might love me after I had carried out one thing so selfish, so terrifying?

And I had carried out this for a simple cause that I felt like I couldn’t be a single mother because I used to be determined to be afraid that my attack on high functioning alcoholism quickly began. I moved with my mother and father and began a job search as a result of the unfinished diploma was virtually ineffective. During this era of unemployment began to mingle eagerly, hopping from group to group, in order that nobody would discover how much I drank. Soon, what I referred to as a "social" drink turned normal on most days of the week – 4 or 5 robust drinks. I typically ran residence to my disgrace once I was quite upset – but I never thought I used to be consuming. Spend the weekends with a spell of different "friends" who did not know me afterwards. Sleeping, sleep deprived on a regular basis mornings have been my new commonplace.

Over the subsequent two years, I was capable of plan workplaces that assorted extensively between publishing and cutting-edge know-how for international intelligence and fundraising, however I never took a long time to get kicked out of each job. I used to be indignant, unknown and boastful, clocked out and in with out problem learning and working with others. I hid my wrestle with the inadequacy of indulging in a corrosive comparability by way of social media with other Millennials who I imagined was a perfect and carefree life. This rising resentment unfold shortly and became firmly rooted in My Character. I used to be miserable and shimmering, unable to be thankful for what I had: a loving household, monetary and emotional help, and pals who pale the recurring storms of our atmospheric and isolated occasions.

escape MO did work,. . . Until it was. July 21, 2017 I was (rightly) arrested for drunk driving.

I consider that in the shadow of doubt, if I had not been arrested, I might have determined to kill myself or one other individual, God's ban. I spent twenty-four horrifying hours in jail until my father and brother saved me. Once we drove residence in hidden silence, I used to be amazed at the terrible implementation of what I might have accomplished. I had found the base. After years of failure – personal, skilled, and religious – I was desperate to vary my life. However how? What might probably be a enough substitute for the fact that alcohol has all the time given me, without failure?

At night time, my younger brother, Tacos, fell sharply, however kindly asked me to get assist with all the things he needed. He advised me that the twister I had come – to tear my approach within the lives of others, in addition to mine – was not acceptable. Simply two weeks after my arrest, I came across a help group for alcohol use. It is a marvelous organization that has helped me to realize and keep respect for alcohol since October 2, 2017. By means of day by day meetings, lively service, religious self-discipline and a singular connection, it has now turn into a mannequin of my life.

Without it, I couldn’t have referred to as the facility to forgive myself, let go of my previous and let God construct with me and do with me the best way He needs. Solely once I search for assist, I might see my despair not as a curse however as a present

Typically, as Paul Newman's Luke Jackson says, there may be no real cool hand.

– – –

Once I ran into this furious group, hungry for the which means and function that had looked at me in Catholicism, I discovered myself wandering atheism, agnostism and Buddhism. My anger in the direction of the Church swept and slowly eroded the assumption every day.

Then, once I was working in the twelve steps, I slowly started to experience mental change and religious awakening. I’ve discovered to differentiate uskonni foaming petition sentimental and superficial sentimentality, which had all the time given me permission to share myself and Mr. Dr. Jekylliin Hydeen. I might be my Catholic Character once I took random sexual encounters which are typically delivered to a fruitless company to destroy my conscience. In my social life, I turned an professional in mask Jungian when anybody else of morphene needed me to be. Without the self-sufficiency of the interior mechanism I’ve discovered to control others to awaken specific emotions that might strengthen increasingly more delicate and fleeting self. I obtained in and went to my beloved one's life as I used to be happy with the livid and chaotic hurricane without remorse.

Once I finally referred to as for the braveness to ask God (and myself) for forgiveness, I used to be not on the lookout for a Catholic priest. As an alternative, my "liberty" and healing got here from David, a self-described brazenly homosexual, seventies, whose deviation from the priesthood forty years in the past induced cruel wounds that persecuted him at the moment. We developed intimate recent friendships that I might be grateful eternally. Through the years, my trauma broke down David's palms late within the night time as he struck uncontrollably as he held me a starry, quiet sky.

"Why are you crying?" He asked for a while. [19659002] "I am… Bad," vapors of the wells. "I can not forgive. I'm a murderer. I have killed my own child."

David checked out me mix of horror and compassion. "But you have not destroyed or convicted. You have got been redeemed via Christ. He beloved you then. He loves you very much. ”

Tears stopped all of a sudden, obtrusive respiration slowed." Is he? "I asked, vast eyes and I was afraid of his answer." How can you be so sure? " 19659002] "Because He is greater than any pain you suffered, suffered now or ever", David replied with a relaxing peace that stopped me on my tracks. "You've heard from us a thousand occasions – pay attention! Get away from God whenever you perceive God. Trust Him day by day. Clear the home every single day, serve others, day by day, and then do it once more the subsequent day. In the future at a time. ”

I might simply stare at him foolish I replied vividly that a tremendous smile, his eyes shining when he stated, "I believe so." You must attempt it. ”

So I did.

Maddeningly slowly but certainly, bodily, mental, emotional, and mental sensitivity began to forgive me the uninteresting pain that was not only struck out I need to reside. I threw myself again into my very own life and confirmed increasingly more to my family members – typically in nice ways, but principally in small ones. Every time I made a mistake, I admitted it instantly and asked God what corrective measures I should take. I gave Him a self-discipline to my wild and obscure spirit as my line of will – which had previously been in riot – was ever nearer to Him.

I started to wish every morning and night for others as an alternative of myself. Although this was initially mechanical, I really began to study what was referred to as to me a man and a lady who continues to be sick. I ended preventing my demons and confessed them. Each time I felt aroused or suspicious, I interrupted and requested God to assume or act, which might give me the braveness to adapt the serenity to the accident.

In the long run, he lit the trail to my house church – when I discovered a unprecedented compassion and a resignation from the same Catholic group that I had wrongly assumed would condemn me strictly. But I'm sad that we acerbic-cultural and non secular dialogue provides rise to unnecessary suffering of different ladies who, like me, noticed solely despair and hope within the midst of demise and new life. I say to them: You’ll never ever be alone.

Is that this a cheerful return house that answers come once I need them to be? Typically. At different occasions I can't see them, and ask him for steerage or pay attention in a different way

Have you ever discovered to be pleased more often than not? Isn't that the case?

It's by no means. I mean by no means.

I mean this: As soon as upon a time my detached world has turn into enchanted. I mean, I started digging my life again. I've discovered to offer myself a dream once more, attempt once more, fail once more, love once more, harm once more – not again.

I even dared to chuckle at myself and with the world again. And that is the miracle.

The post Redemption returned appeared first on Android Illustrated.

[st3pback3-blog]

Redemption returned

Grotesque is a word that got here to thoughts when a woman pulls her legs via the doors of a dirty clinic. She swayed, felt unusual chilly in that notably drained August countryside. But the rough surroundings was not to blame for the chilly surrounding his body. It was his purpose to step in. His world, filled with journey and joy, was now bullied. It had grow to be detached to him.

The woman was able to verify that there was a life that had been combined inside her for 5 weeks – the life she had fairly unintentionally helped to create an unlucky, drunk one night time

She felt the same sudden nausea that was involved each week before within the presence of a double line in a home being pregnant check window. Wait,. . . what do two strains mean? This can’t happen. He tore another check – two bold blue strains. S ***. He stepped out and pulled out without considering of a cigarette that remained secure till he threw it violently into the ground. Ugh, guess it out. He drove to his telephone within the early morning mild, he rolled his identify. He hesitated, then met it, and when the ring got here, he tried as soon as to take away the throat. "Hey, it's me. I'm sorry, I know it is early. Can you… Can you talk about the minutes?"

He had referred to as her to drive to the clinic, which was drained in the morning. Whether moral help or curiosity, he did not know and He was simply the only soul he had informed, principally his catholic colleague, pal, roommate and household he had to maintain in the dead of night. The thought of ​​telling them about this hellish mess was incomprehensible, even horrifying.

Nurse, kindly center an previous lady referred to as her back with a chipper. The woman glanced at her companion, and she or he took her hand rigorously to her, guided her to the exam room and helped her to the desk the place she hurriedly raised her shirt.

"Sorry, I have an hour," she muttered eyes fell. "Remember if we do this fast?"

"Of course", Sick The gunner answered sympathetically with a smile. ”Here we go, this seems a bit chilly for the second time. Let's see. Yeah, take a look at that cluster there? It's your child, honey. ”

The woman stared on the black and white image of the display as her coldness went warm and cozy with a dark numbness. He discovered his father's eyes, sincerely in search of his reaction to direct his personal difficult emotions. "I'm here every step of the way, no matter what you decide," he broke: "We are in this together, okay?"

He nodded and closed his eyes. Scorching, indignant tears nervous and tune his face. His body began to tighten and tremble. He pressured himself to observe his baby once more as a result of the contradictory thoughts ran in. I don't want you. You have been born to a mother who regretted you within the moment she noticed you. What if that is the one opportunity for a kid? What do I see extra? Here the rubber strikes the street. Can I stay with myself if I didn't say to you? I would like you. I want you. I hate you. I really like you.

The woman squeezed her hand and turned to the nurse. "Thank you," he stated, respiration deeply. "Yeah, what's next?"

"It's utterly yours, pricey. It's your body, isn't it? ”

– – –

5. August 2015, I made a decision to cease an individual who might have taken his first life on March 29, 2016. I like those days of mourning a toddler who existed however by no means lived outdoors my physique. I respect her by naming her, talking to her, crying for her, praying to her. For a kid who would have melted my coronary heart regardless of the terrible three. A youngster who would in all probability have stored me at night time in moms angst. The boy's father – and the younger man, husband and father – was robbed of the chance to return.

I mirrored sufferers back to this terrible August, many occasions, many occasions ever since, spending hours and hours hardly ultrasound. It’s wrinkled and worn out of my busy retreat to my hometown's arrow wound; as a result of once I stopped being pregnant, and left abruptly out of faculty, I found little purpose to remain. Each a part of me (theoretically) lives a Catholic, passionate graduate scholar, a hopeful author, an educational, a superb and trustworthy one that was crushed in a number of months. For me, these months have been recognized for years. I spent them buried deep in Netflix, hiding eating and crazy social media, feeling myself in the face of anger and contempt.

I received bone fracturing and nervous nausea. I have shed twenty kilos. My hair started to thin and fall. My skin turned pale, uninteresting, embedded. The art of conversation and human interplay slipped. I literally couldn't convey myself away from bed to eat, drink or even exit if I might help it. My buddies began to fret, however I ignored their call and hid in my room once they tried to examine me out. My household had gone to panic, wondering what was incorrect with me. I used to be astonishingly shortly destroyed my former self in a fragile shell.

When a bright-eyed woman with a vivid shell discovered myself tireless, that was the thing of this unforgivable Evil I had completed. This factor I might by no means take again. This thing, as I firmly consider years later, which I might by no means forgive myself – and by no means forgive by God or man.

It’s typically stated that God's work in our life is a mystery that we might be foolish to attempt to understand. I was so scared to share my nervousness about what I might have completed to a toddler – the soul I might have created together with a careless, lustful renunciation – that I didn't dare to go close to the church for almost a yr. I used to be satisfied that I used to be committed to hell and I was out of all salvation. My desperation stored me so tight that I felt I might by no means smile again. It’s unimaginable to imagine that I might ever love – or be beloved – again. For who might love me after I had carried out one thing so selfish, so terrifying?

And I had carried out this for a simple cause that I felt like I couldn’t be a single mother because I used to be determined to be afraid that my attack on high functioning alcoholism quickly began. I moved with my mother and father and began a job search as a result of the unfinished diploma was virtually ineffective. During this era of unemployment began to mingle eagerly, hopping from group to group, in order that nobody would discover how much I drank. Soon, what I referred to as a "social" drink turned normal on most days of the week – 4 or 5 robust drinks. I typically ran residence to my disgrace once I was quite upset – but I never thought I used to be consuming. Spend the weekends with a spell of different "friends" who did not know me afterwards. Sleeping, sleep deprived on a regular basis mornings have been my new commonplace.

Over the subsequent two years, I was capable of plan workplaces that assorted extensively between publishing and cutting-edge know-how for international intelligence and fundraising, however I never took a long time to get kicked out of each job. I used to be indignant, unknown and boastful, clocked out and in with out problem learning and working with others. I hid my wrestle with the inadequacy of indulging in a corrosive comparability by way of social media with other Millennials who I imagined was a perfect and carefree life. This rising resentment unfold shortly and became firmly rooted in My Character. I used to be miserable and shimmering, unable to be thankful for what I had: a loving household, monetary and emotional help, and pals who pale the recurring storms of our atmospheric and isolated occasions.

escape MO did work,. . . Until it was. July 21, 2017 I was (rightly) arrested for drunk driving.

I consider that in the shadow of doubt, if I had not been arrested, I might have determined to kill myself or one other individual, God's ban. I spent twenty-four horrifying hours in jail until my father and brother saved me. Once we drove residence in hidden silence, I used to be amazed at the terrible implementation of what I might have accomplished. I had found the base. After years of failure – personal, skilled, and religious – I was desperate to vary my life. However how? What might probably be a enough substitute for the fact that alcohol has all the time given me, without failure?

At night time, my younger brother, Tacos, fell sharply, however kindly asked me to get assist with all the things he needed. He advised me that the twister I had come – to tear my approach within the lives of others, in addition to mine – was not acceptable. Simply two weeks after my arrest, I came across a help group for alcohol use. It is a marvelous organization that has helped me to realize and keep respect for alcohol since October 2, 2017. By means of day by day meetings, lively service, religious self-discipline and a singular connection, it has now turn into a mannequin of my life.

Without it, I couldn’t have referred to as the facility to forgive myself, let go of my previous and let God construct with me and do with me the best way He needs. Solely once I search for assist, I might see my despair not as a curse however as a present

Typically, as Paul Newman's Luke Jackson says, there may be no real cool hand.

– – –

Once I ran into this furious group, hungry for the which means and function that had looked at me in Catholicism, I discovered myself wandering atheism, agnostism and Buddhism. My anger in the direction of the Church swept and slowly eroded the assumption every day.

Then, once I was working in the twelve steps, I slowly started to experience mental change and religious awakening. I’ve discovered to differentiate uskonni foaming petition sentimental and superficial sentimentality, which had all the time given me permission to share myself and Mr. Dr. Jekylliin Hydeen. I might be my Catholic Character once I took random sexual encounters which are typically delivered to a fruitless company to destroy my conscience. In my social life, I turned an professional in mask Jungian when anybody else of morphene needed me to be. Without the self-sufficiency of the interior mechanism I’ve discovered to control others to awaken specific emotions that might strengthen increasingly more delicate and fleeting self. I obtained in and went to my beloved one's life as I used to be happy with the livid and chaotic hurricane without remorse.

Once I finally referred to as for the braveness to ask God (and myself) for forgiveness, I used to be not on the lookout for a Catholic priest. As an alternative, my "liberty" and healing got here from David, a self-described brazenly homosexual, seventies, whose deviation from the priesthood forty years in the past induced cruel wounds that persecuted him at the moment. We developed intimate recent friendships that I might be grateful eternally. Through the years, my trauma broke down David's palms late within the night time as he struck uncontrollably as he held me a starry, quiet sky.

"Why are you crying?" He asked for a while. [19659002] "I am… Bad," vapors of the wells. "I can not forgive. I'm a murderer. I have killed my own child."

David checked out me mix of horror and compassion. "But you have not destroyed or convicted. You have got been redeemed via Christ. He beloved you then. He loves you very much. ”

Tears stopped all of a sudden, obtrusive respiration slowed." Is he? "I asked, vast eyes and I was afraid of his answer." How can you be so sure? " 19659002] "Because He is greater than any pain you suffered, suffered now or ever", David replied with a relaxing peace that stopped me on my tracks. "You've heard from us a thousand occasions – pay attention! Get away from God whenever you perceive God. Trust Him day by day. Clear the home every single day, serve others, day by day, and then do it once more the subsequent day. In the future at a time. ”

I might simply stare at him foolish I replied vividly that a tremendous smile, his eyes shining when he stated, "I believe so." You must attempt it. ”

So I did.

Maddeningly slowly but certainly, bodily, mental, emotional, and mental sensitivity began to forgive me the uninteresting pain that was not only struck out I need to reside. I threw myself again into my very own life and confirmed increasingly more to my family members – typically in nice ways, but principally in small ones. Every time I made a mistake, I admitted it instantly and asked God what corrective measures I should take. I gave Him a self-discipline to my wild and obscure spirit as my line of will – which had previously been in riot – was ever nearer to Him.

I started to wish every morning and night for others as an alternative of myself. Although this was initially mechanical, I really began to study what was referred to as to me a man and a lady who continues to be sick. I ended preventing my demons and confessed them. Each time I felt aroused or suspicious, I interrupted and requested God to assume or act, which might give me the braveness to adapt the serenity to the accident.

In the long run, he lit the trail to my house church – when I discovered a unprecedented compassion and a resignation from the same Catholic group that I had wrongly assumed would condemn me strictly. But I'm sad that we acerbic-cultural and non secular dialogue provides rise to unnecessary suffering of different ladies who, like me, noticed solely despair and hope within the midst of demise and new life. I say to them: You’ll never ever be alone.

Is that this a cheerful return house that answers come once I need them to be? Typically. At different occasions I can't see them, and ask him for steerage or pay attention in a different way

Have you ever discovered to be pleased more often than not? Isn't that the case?

It's by no means. I mean by no means.

I mean this: As soon as upon a time my detached world has turn into enchanted. I mean, I started digging my life again. I've discovered to offer myself a dream once more, attempt once more, fail once more, love once more, harm once more – not again.

I even dared to chuckle at myself and with the world again. And that is the miracle.

The post Redemption returned appeared first on Android Illustrated.

[ankhlesbian]

FE Rarepair Week: Day 1

Prompt: Snow, for @ferarepair-week

Fandom: FE Echoes: Shadows of Valentia

Pairing: Faye/Silque

AO3 Link: Here

Length: ~2k

Title: in a polaroid picture

A gust of wind howls by, biting at Faye’s uncovered skin. She shivers, wrapping her arms around herself. Her usual outfit has served her well so far during their journey across Rigel, but the days just keep getting colder and colder. Silque glances over at her, frowning.

“We should be able to procure warmer clothes next time we find a village. It’s the right season for it, after all.” Faye nods in agreement.

“It never got this cold in Zofia.” she says mournfully. “Do you think it’ll snow?” Ram Village never saw real snow. Even if a few sad flakes did start falling, they never stuck to the ground for longer than just a couple of minutes.

Silque tilts her head towards the sky, full of swirling wispy clouds, and hums thoughtfully. “It might.”

Faye watches her closely. She seems much more animated than usual, her eyes twinkling. She’s… excited?

“How long has it been since you saw snow?” She knows Silque has been to Rigel before, a long, long time ago. Silque hesitates.

“Years, I suppose. I don’t remember much from my time here. Most of my memories are from growing up on Novis Isle.”

“Do you miss it?” It’s perhaps a rude question, but the piercing cold and the somber grey sky above and the muted grass beneath their feet has Faye feeling oddly pensive. Silque’s lips quirk upwards, not quite a smile.

“Of course. But if I had gone back, I’d just be doing what I was doing before the war. After everything, I couldn’t go back to sitting around. There’s people who need healing, people who need guidance now that Mila has left us. Besides, I enjoy getting to see the world.”

Faye can understand that. Before deciding to join Silque, she had gone back to Ram Village to see her parents. It hadn’t changed at all, but it still seemed emptier. There wasn’t much there for her, not anymore.

“Ah yes, who wouldn’t want to enjoy this glorious view?” She says, instead of voicing any of that. She gestures out at the barren landscape around them. Silque elbows her, but she’s smiling, for real this time.

“Don’t be so crass! There’s all sorts of wonders out here.” And as if on cue, something cold and wet hits Faye’s cheek. She gasps, touching the spot instinctively.

Silque giggles, and then it turns to laughter as she sees Faye’s face. Her head is thrown back, blue hair all the more vibrant thanks to the shining white snowflakes falling down around her. It’s a positively radiant sight, and Faye finds herself laughing too. She raises her hands to the sky, trying to catch a snowflake. Her lingering homesickness dissipates, and she wonders how she ever thought she liked Alm. He never made her feel like this, like this moment alone was worth a lifetime of loneliness.

They goof off for the next few minutes, mission forgotten. It’s like being a child again. Of course, they eventually tire of throwing snowballs at each other, and reality sets in. It’s getting late, and the snow shows no sign of letting up. The wind is also picking up, blasting ice into their faces.

“I think it’s a blizzard.” Silque says, voice shaking despite her attempt to stay calm. Faye’s own teeth are chattering. She takes a moment to compose herself.

“It doesn’t look like it’s gonna stop. We need to find a cave or something.” she agrees, because they’ve both looked over their map, and they both know they’re too far from any towns to seek shelter there.

The terrain isn’t rocky enough for caves, but they do manage to find what appears to be an old shed. The windows have been shattered, and the wood looks like it’s rotting, but the roof is intact and it’s better than nothing. They stumble inside and slide to the ground, resting their weary legs.

Faye cups her hands around her mouth and breathes out, rubbing her hands together. Silque is doing something similar, and she also adjusts her headdress, tugging it down over her ears.

They sit shoulder to shoulder, the warmth comforting. Faye cranes her neck so she can peer out a window without having to move. All she can see is white. There’s a nice little pile of snow collecting underneath the windows.

Her body complains, but she forces herself to get up. Silque furrows her brow, opening her mouth to protest.

“I’m going to block off the windows,” she explains. There’s scattered wooden planks on the floor, and some tarps, and even some spare tools on old shelves. She doesn’t dare touch those, for fear of accidentally chopping off a finger, but she manages.

“Hopefully that’ll keep the chill out.” She settles back down beside Silque. The cold seems to slow down even time, for the moments trickle by slowly, until finally the sun is set, and it seems her efforts were in vain, because now her and Silque are both shivering nonstop. Silque’s cheeks are a rosy pink, which would look quite nice if the situation wasn’t so uncomfortable.

“Here,” Faye says quietly, taking off her cape. She wraps it around both of their shoulders before retying it. Silque’s practically sitting on top of her, but she doesn’t think either of them mind. She may even get feeling back in her fingers. Without thinking, she reaches out for Silque’s hands, grasping them tightly. Silque doesn’t complain, only readjusting her arms to a more comfortable position.

“I really wish I had decided to keep studying black magic with Kliff now.” Faye complains. Healing spells are useful, but none of those will create a nice, sizzling, cozy fire.

“It’d probably just sap your energy, anyways.” Silque offers. “It’s not like white magic. Maintenance is harder. Black magic is just meant to harm a foe, then fade. No longevity.” Faye turns her head to look at Silque, and finds her face embarrassingly close to hers. She quickly turns away.

“I didn’t think you knew much about it.” Faye knows her way around multiple weapons, thanks to Sir Mycen, and picked up white magic during the war, but as far as she knows, most priories don’t make a habit of teaching black magic.

“Well, it certainly isn’t standard. But there was a library in town, and only so much to do as a bored child in the Priory.”  The image of a young Silque carefully sneaking around the watchful eye of older clerics to read makes Faye smile.

“I bet you were a real troublemaker.” she teases.

“Not as much as you were.” Silque fires back. “Alm’s told me stories, you know. Something about you being banned from learning dark magic.” Faye had hoped she would just think it was a deliberate choice, and not a strict rule imposed by Sir Mycen.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Silque raises an eyebrow at her. Faye caves.

“I may have set one of Sir Mycen’s sheep on fire,” she admits. Silque starts to laugh, but she breaks off into a fit of coughing. Faye wraps an arm around her, awkward from their positions, to help stabilize her.

“I’m fine.” Silque says, only wheezing slightly. “Would you tell me another story, one from your childhood?” Faye nods, resisting the urge to bite at her lip.

The talking is a good distraction, but time keeps on ticking. Faye can feel the cold air sapping her energy, can feel it right down to the bone. Her stream of words trails off, despite her best attempts at wrangling her brain into order.

“Faye?” Silque is worried, her hair tickling Faye’s chin as she scrambles. Silque presses her fingers to Faye’s neck, and somehow, they feel even colder than her own skin.

“M’fine.” She mumbles, sluggishly swatting at Silque’s hand. She isn’t looking at her, but she swears she can feel Silque’s unhappy frown. Silque grips her hand, holding it close to her chest.

“You are wearing less layers than me.” Faye isn’t a chaste woman of the cloth, though. “We should keep talking. Let’s talk about- about Alm?” She wants to talk about something Faye’s interested in, she recognizes. But Silque hasn’t been present for her internal monologuing. Alm is old news. She thinks she only liked him because he would never like her back. A good reason to show interest in no other boys.

“That’s okay. How about you? Life on Novis Isle? You’re prettier than Alm, anyways.” That last bit just kind of slips out. Thankfully, Silque seems more concerned with the talking idea.

“Well, I didn’t spend a lot of time with Celica and her friends, but—”

Faye lets her voice wash over her. It’s soothing, and entirely counterproductive to staying awake. Silque’s head is nestled into Faye’s shoulder, and it’s so easy to just let her head fall on top of Silque’s. So easy to just shut her eyes and shut out the numbness she can feel. She focuses on Silque’s voice, low and sweet, until she can’t focus on anything any longer.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Faye jolts awake an indeterminate amount of time later. Miraculously, she doesn’t feel quite as cold anymore.

“Thank the Mother,” Silque breathes, from where she’s standing above Faye. She reaches out, gently grabbing Faye’s face with a hand, tilting her head to the side as she examines it with a critical eye. “I was afraid the cold had taken you.”

Faye pulls herself to her feet, stretching her arms upwards. “I wouldn’t let the weather take me out, not after surviving an entire war.” Silque doesn’t look convinced, but she does seem relieved that Faye’s in good spirit.

“You’ll probably have to tell me about your childhood again later, though.” she admits sheepishly. “I fell asleep before you got to the interesting stuff.”

Silque rolls her eyes. “It would be my pleasure.”

Outside, the sun is shining bright. It makes it hard to see, since there’s piles and piles of snow reflecting the light.

“It should start melting soon.” Silque says from beside her. “Then we can slog our way to a village.”

They stand in comfortable silence for a while, admiring the sight. The landscape is much more interesting when covered in snow. There aren’t any trees nearby, but Faye bets any evergreens look stunning right now. She glances at Silque out of the corner of her eye.

She remembers complimenting her, and she’s sure Silque remembers it too. Maybe she just thinks Faye was completely out of it. She could let it lie, let the two of them sweep it under a rug and move on. It would be a risk to bring it up again. But it was a risk to leave Ram Village with Alm wasn’t it? And a risk to leave a second time, to accompany Silque on this journey. Risks pay off.

“It’s certainly very pretty out,” Faye says abruptly. Silque is startled out of her own inner monologue, and looks over at Faye. “But not as pretty as you.”

“Faye—”

“I mean it. I’ve had a lot of time to think, lately. And I’ve realized that I like you. You’re caring, and good at healing, and you tell the best stories. And you were patient enough to put up with me, back during the war. I don’t want to lose you.”

Silque looks stunned. Is it that much of a shock? Anyone from the Deliverance could tell you that Silque was worthy of all sorts of praise. Her face goes red, and it takes her a few tries before she’s able to reply.

“Are you sure?”

Faye crosses her arms. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.” Silque rubs the back of her head, scuffs a foot across the ground awkwardly.

“Of course. I did not mean to imply anything untoward about your character. It was just… unexpected. I’m honored.”

“Just honored?” Faye can’t keep the disappointment from her voice, but she has to know. She isn’t going to sit through another bout of unrequited love.

“…More than honored.” Silque amends, finally looking up and meeting Faye’s eyes. “I’m a bit delighted. I think you’re wonderful, too, Faye.”

Despite the weather, Faye feels warm all over. She beams, and Silque’s face softens.

“That’s a good look on you.” she says, voice going quiet as she steps closer. She reaches a hand out and brushes her thumb over Faye’s lips.

“You always seemed miserable, back then. You deserve to be happy.” Faye takes her hand gently by the wrist and lowers it.

“I am happy.” Her volume lowers to match Silque’s, adding a level of intimacy to their conversation. Her eyes drop to Silque’s lips, dart back up to her eyes, then dart down again. They both lean in at the same time, and then their noses crunch together audibly, right before their lips touch.

They both recoil, clutching at their faces. And then they’re both laughing, just like yesterday, and Faye can’t help but think that she could live the rest of her life like this.

[heyhihelloaus-blog]

Let Go ~Chapter 10~

May 3rd

Thursday

The paper felt real in my hands, but the words didn't.

“Banned from the property”

“Contract suspended due to inappropriate behavior”

“Any attempt to contact outside of lawyers will be met with additional legal action”

... and it was just over. I'm pulled back into the memory of that first day.

3 years ago

I had made a name for myself in the small world of personal security. I was good at losing paps and crazed fans. Really good. That was my specialty. I wasn’t apart of any team, I was freelance and available last minute. The longest job was a few months, and normally that was a tour of sorts. 

Some big company was asking for me. Headhunting for a long-term personal security guard. They asked for me, and they had been persistent. That was until I walked into the meeting room. Jin and his skeevy manager sat at the conference table immersed in their phones.

“Are you his secretary?” the manager asked, once he finally looked up. Insult plain on his face.

“I am Foxglove”

“You are a woman?”

“You have basic observation skills.”

Jin lets out a short laugh before covering his mouth and trying to look professional after a glare from his manager.

“Did you not want Foxglove?” I ask, false confusion in my voice.

“We do...” the manager begins and I can tell he is looking for the right words.

“You doubt my abilities because I am a woman” its not a question. I make direct eye contact with the manager.

“Who wouldn’t?” he laughs trying to lighten the mood looking to Jin to agree with him. Jin just sets his head on his hand, silent.

“A better man than you.” I turn towards the door. I don't need this.

“Wait” Jin calls “we would want to assess the skills of any new bodyguard, especially if they are to be my personal guard.”

“How do you wish to test my skill then?” I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued. I turn slowly back towards them.

“If you can get past my security guards to me by the end of the week the job is yours.”

I had already done recon for a week straight on him and his company. I never go in blind if I can help it. I show none of this on my face and merely ask “Against your current security?”

“Is that going to be a problem?” sneers the manager

“No. I was just curious if you planned to add additional help for this little test.”

The boss laughed until he turned red in the face.

“That won't be necessary “ he finally gets out, wiping a tear from his face.

I slid my card to Jin giving him a cold smile.

“I will be seeing you later.”

They would expect me to need prep time. They would expect me to start following them tomorrow at best. I am not a woman who wastes time

. I leave their building and lose their attempt at a tail in less than 5 minutes. Taking a long way round I still beat Jin to his apartment. It takes me a few minutes to get set up and then all I have to do is wait.

When he finally does come home I tranq him, tie him up, and place him into a large moving box, set the box on a hand truck and “move” him out. Dressed as someone from a moving company, no one even looked twice at me.

Jin finally wakes up to find himself tied to a chair in a mostly empty warehouse. The panic and confusion last until I step out from the shadows. I'm holding a small food container which I set on a nearby rickety table.

“Dinner?” I ask smirking at his utterly bemused face.

“How?...” he croaked.

I walk to him slowly flicking open my knife. His eyes go a little wide.

I keep eye contact with him and say  “I'm good at what I do. I'm prepared. I don't waste time” he doesn't notice me cut the zip ties until I start to walk away.

“I'm sorry for the way my manager treated you.”

“Eat your dinner before it gets cold.”  I continue walking away and from the shadows, I say “I’ve passed your test, your guards have alerted of your location, let me know your answer by the end of the week”  

Present. 

Did I end up staying three years out of spite? Because the manager didn't think I could do it? Did I stay the three years because I'd made a family with him and Bong-soon? Who knows at this point.

Three years? I've had his back for three fucking years. Now I sit in an almost empty park with a manila envelope clutched in my hands, fighting tears. It's over. One stupid party that I was tricked into going to.  I shouldn't have made friends. I should have moved on. I was a fool to think we were friends. 

I end up at the gym. I have too much pent up shit to just go home. I go home like this and Griz will want to talk. I don't want to talk about it. I can't talk about it yet. I lift weights for a while. But it doesn't help. I look for someone to spare with but the dangerous look in my eyes keeps them from saying yes. It's probably for the best. I find a mostly secluded punching bag. I place my headphones in and start wailing on the bag. It felt good to go all out. I wouldn't have been able to do this in the ring. I focus on my breathing and the impact of my punches. The world shrinks down to this. I plan to go until I can't. That way I can go home and pass out. I don't know how much time has passed when I feel a hand land on my back. No hesitation and I have whoever was attached to the hand pinned to the ground. Shit...

I take a deep breath and loosen my grip stepping away from them.

“Can I help you?” I make no move to help them up merely take out my headphones.  The man turns to face me on the mat.  I've seen them in the gym before, but we’ve never spoken. I've caught him eyeing me a couple times pretending that he wasn’t He has pale blonde hair and pale blue eyes. An almost baby face that I bet he uses to fool a lot of people. Oddly he has an amused look on his face.

“That is one way to say hello.”

He gets off the mat and dusts off his pants.

“Can I help you,” I repeat, not in the mood for small talk.

“To the point. I like it.” he holds out a card but I don't take it.

“Can you get to the point?”

“My name is Eric. How would you like to make some good money?”

“Doing what?” I still don't take the card.

“ Fighting,” he says simply hand not wavering in its offering position. I take the card slowly.

“Boxing? MMA? Kickboxing?” I look down at the light blue card that only his name and a number on it.

“Underground,” he says with a smile. “Where the real money is.”

“Why should I trust you?” I scoff.

“Why trust anyone?  Let me know if you're interested” and he walks away from me and out of the gym.  Not once looking back.

I look back down at the simple business card in my hands.

I think about the other offers I've had. Once word had gotten out that I was on the market they came flooding in. I'd give everyone the same answer. “I'm on vacation. A sabbatical of sorts.”  it was nice to know that I was still wanted, but I found that I couldn't even bear to look at the details of the offers. Standing at the gym covered in sweat I realize the reason. I was waiting for a phone call that was never going to come. I was holding out hope that I could pull my small makeshift family back together. I wasn't ready to face the fact that it was only a job. I tuck the card into my bag and turn back to the punching bag.

Underground fighting huh? There are worse ways to distract myself. 

=========

Well... that escalated quickly. 

BTS X Reader AU - Y/N has been a bodyguard for the actor Kim Seok-Jin for the last 3 years. In her spare time she tends to her garden, works out, and hangs out with her eccentric roommate. She is happy with her job but what happens when she gets a chance to live her dream again?

*Her code name in the personal security field is Foxglove.* 

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