#Is because it was God who gave me the courage and the wisdom to rise above despair and tell that little voice to shut it

[steeb-stn]

i hope the guys telling everyone that women older than 30 are unattractive and are going to be sad and alone their whole lives and are bad people for choosing career over family- i hope those guys know that they are literally doing the Devil’s work

[minalous]

fallen candy | 1

⇁ yoongi x female reader x taehyung ft Jimin x female reader

⇁  romance,humour,angst,smut || supernatural!au

⇁  yoongi!angel, taehyung!angel, reader!hybrid, mentions of death, oral (female receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, love triangle, future poly

The gates of the underworld are now open, unleashing evil and death on earth. Namjoon cannot stand to see his beloved humans suffering so he asks his most trusted friend Yoongi to help him save them. With the help of Taehyung, Yoongi is searching for the hybrid that will help them save humanity. They are searching for you.

⇁5.1k

...

Eras come and go, thousands of years full of knowledge and history are intertwined with the humans on this earth, the world created for them. As humanity started growing into something magnificent, evil and hatred came to disturb it. The wondrous world of humans is about to cease to exist, no miracle would be able to recover the atrocities the demons had done over the past few years; Humans stopped believing in the old gods, in the new gods, in any gods for that matter. They gave up every power they were holding, they offered that power to monsters whose only desire was to destroy whichever privilege their gods openly offered them.

The true Gods gave them free will, courage, intelligence, a beautiful world to live in. And what did they do in return? They destroyed their world, they worshipped gold and silver, they fell on their knees and worshipped false gods which never existed. The true Gods wished nothing but happiness and love for their creation. Can they help them now? Yes they can. It is not too late.

Their headquarters are filled with smart beings, some not so smart but heavenly beautiful.

Yoongi, Taehyung, Jungkook and Namjoon are four of the Gods, half daemons, half angels. Daemons were creatures of wisdom, creatures equal to Gods so they were treated as such. Their angel blood gave them power which was much needed for the wonders they did upon the earth. Day and night they would guard humans from evil, keeping demons and monsters under their control. When humans began their secret worshipping of demons, when they started having evil thoughts and feelings which had to be restrained, they lost their connection to the heavenly creatures. Their free will was in their nature, nobody would take it away from them; but that was what led them to hell upon earth.

The gates of the underworld were now open, unleashing evil and death on earth. Namjoon could not see their creation dying, suffering until they would beg to be put out of their misery. They created them because they needed to love and be loved. He had to act and he had to act now.

Namjoon gathers his most trusted friends to ensure the immediate resolution of their biggest problem. He knows the only remedy to the situation is to create a new hybrid, a creature powerful enough to have their enemies tremble in fear. The hybrid would be their new leader, the leader they’re in need of and who will shed light on the darkness the demons have brought upon humanity.

The details about the recent events in the underworld and on earth have the Gods agree upon taking great measures to ensure an immediate expedition, to acknowledge the danger, the considerable pressure growing bigger. Namjoon further explains how humans are no longer free, their will is manipulated by the demons, vampires and other hideous monsters who are in need of puppets to do their deeds. And that is when Namjoon drops the bomb out of nowhere; the need to create a hybrid.

“You want us to do what?”

Yoongi has become so furious with their leader’s announcement, the weight of the task given to them is something more than what he has anticipated for.

“If you do not do it, Jungkook will. And you know what that means”

Namjoon’s voice is loud and clear, determination lacing his soothing tone. He is confident enough to entrust an important task to his best friend, a task that could ensure a win against the evil powers controlling humans. He would not want to have Jungkook handle a strategy in need of meticulous research, a plan to reveal weaknesses about their enemies. Jungkook may have the muscles but Yoongi has the brains. However weird it may seem, Taehyung is a better shot to the unknown than Jungkook on this occasion.

“Hey! I am a real asset to this team”

Jungkook pleads to be chosen for this mission, muttering under his breath he’s better than anyone else in this room.

“You are only off by two letters”

Jungkook stares at Yoongi’s direction, furrowing his brows in deep confusion due to the daze Yoongi’s words caused him.

“Stop speaking with fancy riddles, hyung” Jungkook says in an almost begging voice

"And you call me stupid"

Taehyung mocks Jungkook in a childish way, making both Yoongi and Namjoon hold their temples in an attempt to calm their frustration. They are in great need of cunning beings that can accomplish tasks in this time of need, but who knows what must be going on inside their brains.

"You make a good rival" Jungkook tells him proudly

"Stupidity is not something you should be proud to compete but between the two of you, I would not expect anything better"

Yoongi’s voice now mirrors Namjoon's feelings, his words confusing the two younger Gods even more but making Namjoon laugh.

"Please just accept the research. You cannot leave me with Jungkook as my last resort" Namjoon now pleads for Yoongi’s acceptance, pointing at Jungkook who is trying to fight off a small bug with his fists, throwing tiny punches in the air.

"Hey! I am right here guys" Jungkook says once more, scaring away the two older Gods

...

In the end, Yoongi ends up accepting Namjoon’s offer to become the leader of the research, a team working under his command who is seeking for clues about the existence of a hybrid. Taehyung is the one to seek answers hidden in the history of their ancestors, as Yoongi tries to discover new information about the demons on earth. Yoongi hasn’t seen humans from up close for a very long time, his eyes wandering to find any clue that could lead him to the main source of their problem.

It has been two months now and he had almost given up. There were no signs of change, the same old things kept happening; vampires feeding off humans, humans willingly offering their souls to demons for a better life, people worshipping false gods which in reality were reapers that would later torment their souls for eternity. It breaks Yoongi’s heart to see those low life demons disturbing the peace of his beloved humans.

When Yoongi could no longer bear the thought of seeing those atrocities and was about to leave, he sensed an immense power. There must have been a powerful creature on earth. He could sense it was evil; the powerful aura radiating from within its heart was pure evil. Since nobody could ever see him, living or dead, good or evil, he walked towards the direction of where the being should be. But he would have never expected to see what he saw.

A fallen God. One of the monstrous Gods that killed hybrids with their bare hands.

In the older days, Gods had the freedom to be with whoever they desired to be; angels, daemons, humans, witches. Everyone was living freely all across the lands. Hybrids were created, beings much more powerful than most of the Gods. Soon enough some the Gods envied the power the hybrids held, fuelled with jealousy and anger they achieved to turn every powerful God and magical creatures against them. Families were destroyed, young kids dragged away from their mothers’ embrace and in a matter of days, the young hybrids were either exiled or dead. But for the jealous gods, the massacre wasn't enough, and they started hunting down the surviving children; had those poor souls tremble in fear before tearing their hearts from their chest, killing mothers with their unborn babies inside them. This complete genocide of innoncent hybrids couldn’t be ignored by the other Gods, who stepped in to bring the perpetrators to justice.  All except for one..

Nobody ever sought revenge, nobody tried to find what happened to the hybrids that survived. Deep down their parents knew what was better; even if the kids were in exile, it would be for the best for their identity to stay unknown; and if they were dead, they wouldn’t want to know the truth. Exile sounded better than death and for them, a lie would be better than the truth itself. It hurt too much to get separated from their beloved kids but who was to rise against the almighty Gods?

Taehyung is given the order to search for any clues inside the books they were passed down through generations, to find anything remotely close about the history of the hybrids. The library contains hundreds of books, centuries of history including the hybrids, knowledge upon the Gods, the known enemies, the existence of powerful unknown enemies hidden in the shadows, possible threats in the foreseeable future. So much information that is enough to get Taehyung confused and mostly make him give up only after two months of research.

Yoongi finds Taehyung shuffling around the library with one of the librarians, almost ready to devour her on top of priceless books which offer unlimited access to humanity's history. He would have expected him to be irresponsible, to be lazy and grumpy about the difficulty and the obligation of his duties towards their team but he would have never expected this kind of irresponsibility.

Yoongi fake coughs and it is enough to alert Taehyung who shoves himself away from the poor girl, the girl bowing slightly before leaving the two Gods alone. Taehyung is quick to grab the book right next to him, sitting back down on his chair to continue reading or at least pretend to.

"I never claimed to be the smart one, Yoongi hyung" the small pout on his lips is the sign that he is about to use, Yoongi's weakness

"Do not hyung me, Tae." Yoongi scoffs to the younger's attempt to get away from being lazy so easily

"It has been two months now and there is no progress! I am not the one to fix such a complicated matter!" Taehyung loses his calm, pouty demeanour and stands up with a small jump from his chair, tossing the book he was holding on the desk. "I wish I could help but reading is not my speciality. Having my head between books is boring" he whispers under his breath but Yoongi is quick to hear his words.

"Being between someone's legs is your speciality but right now we need you. I need you. We are talking about humanity's last chance to be saved." Yoongi's sarcasm is easy to detect and it has Taehyung get smaller when he sits back on his chair, book in hands again to keep up with their research "You may not care about them, may not miss them but they still have faith in us, Tae. We promised to take care of them as long as they honour us. And they still do." Yoongi eyes Taehyung for the first time this evening, his glare intimidating, so intimidating that has Taehyung look away from him before muttering something that sounded like "okay I'll do my best not to have them die"

Taehyung desperately tries to find any clue about the existence of any hybrids, any hint that there may be someone left to lead them back to the land where they used to live, where the families raised their kids. Two weeks go by since his small argument with Yoongi and he can feel that they are going in circles, there is no history left from back then, it seems as if they have erased any kind of hint about the hybrids.

“I give up. I guess humanity is going to die!” Taehyung mumbles “And I am in no mood to create new humans” he pouts and kicks his legs like a five year old

One of his wishes is to find an answer about the hybrids, he has been praying day and night to his ancestors to find a hybrid or for them to simply create one. Taehyung’s fear is not what will happen to humanity or what horrors the demons will bring upon them but what Yoongi and Namjoon will do to him if he doesn’t do his job. A loud thump breaks his train of thoughts, he jumps up quickly to find the cause of his disturbance.

“Why can’t I have some peace of mind?”

His footsteps lead him to an aisle full of some of the most ancient books they have, some of those are not even related to the recent Gods including him as well, books enclosing a few of the mysteries of the universe’s creation. A piece of paper draws his attention, with careful moves he retracts the paper and carefully reads it.

“Cl-o-clo...se? Close?” Taehyung sighs and tries to read it again

“ ‘Close your eyes’ ? Why didn’t I pay attention to ancient Greek? Okay.. Relax Taehyung. You got this..” he takes a deep breath and starts again “ ‘Close your eyes and.. and call my name.‘ ”

The frustration is already built up inside his mind, no time to waste but he is here trying to read a stupid paper that gives him no clue.

“Do I look like I know your name?”

“Call my name”

“W-what?” even for a creature like Taehyung that holds so much power, he is still scared of unknown voices that whisper to him.

Before he can ask for a second time, deep sleep takes him over and soon enough he is snoring on the floor, the books on the shelves shaking as something or maybe someone is arriving. The powerful spell he had just cast consumed all of his power and drained him but he is safe as the young woman arrives into their heavenly kingdom.

...

You are here.

You don’t know what here is, you don’t know where you are, what you are. You only know you belong here. Something or someone called for you. Someone woke you up from your deep sleep, you don’t know for how long you have been asleep for. Your last memory is your mother and father telling you how much they love you, how proud they are for you, how good and kind you are and that one day they will be with you again. They were scared last time you saw them; so scared. You were only a few decades old when something happened that brought so much sadness inside your house, in the place you grew up and learned to call home.

The way you heard your parents scream your name, the moment you saw their expressions change from happiness to pure terror... It still haunts you after so many years of silence. Their love can still be felt in your heart, you let it guide you as you walk down the aisle. By the looks of it, it must be a library. You think it must be a beautiful place to wake up, to make up for the years of not learning anything new, to build new memories to call your own.

It feels safe to be here, that’s what you think, already enchanted by the knowledge getting offered to you so openly. Book already in hands and for the first time in so long, you feel at peace. Even when you were asleep, away from reality, you could feel the loss, the longing. But now, everything seems to be falling into place. Is this what it feels like to hope?

There’s a God near you; you can sense his presence, his aura. A wave of euphoria overwhelms your emotions for a few seconds without realising you may be in heaven right now.

“Can I stay here a little bit longer?”

The stranger nods softly, a warm smile on his lips as he closes the space between you. Without any warning he hugs you, a way to reassure you it is safe to be here, to be with him.

“Of course” his voice sounds so sweet to your ears

“My name is Yoongi. If you need me, let me know”

With Yoongi gone you wish to continue reading, more and more books to offer you knowledge you don't have yet about this kingdom or the world, the human world. You don't find overwhelming the new information you get to explore; history of the world, evolution of the human kind, ancient times and magic, the background of your ancestors, the different kinds of art. Who could have thought humans would be so blessed?

But what about now? What is happening now in the human world? Maybe there is a book to enlighten you further into their history.

There is one book that stands out. A book in the middle of the library. Questions cloud your mind as to what makes it so important, why is it in the centre of the library. It presents itself in all its glory, white pages with golden letters. Letters that start appearing as if the book is writing its own story. And it does indeed.

The book represents the story of the human world. Everything happening right now in the human world is getting written on the book.

"It's a spell." the man says

“Don’t they need help?” but instead of waiting for an answer, you let the book answer for you

With only a touch of your hand the book spoke to you, time stood still for a split second, your eyes rolled at the back of your head and you saw; you saw the pain, the agony, the fear, the manipulation, torn souls and evil. So much evil.. It is way too late to save some of the souls, they were far too deep into the evil surrounding them, minds full of thoughts they didn’t own, another being controlling their every move, mindless puppets ready to do their master’s deed.

It feels so dark and lonely inside their world.. Hope and love can be seen, kindness can be found into the smallest corners. But you see traces of the same energy everywhere, black drops tracing back to the same aura, it cannot be seen but you can feel it spreading steadily, slowly devouring the goodness from people. It is like broken memories, the book whispering to you, scenes unravelling in front of you and they look all the same while they are revealing you one and only being; a man who walks on this earth to bring misery. A fallen God.

He is suppressing who he is, power drips from his fingertips but you can tell. He is the one to blame for the doom brought upon the humans. Why is he in every memory the book is showing you? You can only catch glimpses of him, his face changing every time he moves from one human to another. This fallen God finds a new host to live in but none of them can survive long, he repeats the same thing over and over again until he feels satisfied with the pain he brings upon.

Once you believe the book is done with showing you past memories, it shows you one more; the fallen God looking at someone. He smirks and you can feel it, all kinds of evil thoughts consuming his whole being and it scares you. It is time to go.

“Found you”

A sweet voice, there is nothing sweet about the tone he uses but his voice sounds so sweet.

"The Gods never left, little girl. Humans started worshipping lifeless devices, poisonous intimacy, gold and silver to rule their life. Humans abandoned the Gods, so They abandoned them."

The fallen God is so close to you, caught on what is happening you let your guard down and he grabs the opportunity to touch you. Is it fear you feel? No. This feeling is.. Sadness. Agony. Regret. He runs his finger on his plump lips to taste the sweetness of your fear mixed with your tears of agony. Blood boiling within his veins but it doesn't stop him from teasing you for a little more before tearing your soul. Desires of any kind have his mind under control, his thoughts are a swimming pool ready to lure you into the depths of it, darkness and loneliness wanting to drown you and keep you under their wet blanket.

“They still want you. They still need your love”

So many voices live inside his mind, the more you look into it, the more you stare into his eyes, you find something so familiar and endearing. Why is it that you cannot find yourself to feel threatened by him?

“Call me crazy, but I think I was meant to know you” you manage to get out in a soft whisper, hand reaching out to touch his cheek

His eyes soften for a moment before he goes back to his blank stare, but in that moment you felt as if he understood what you meant.

“Jimin” is the last thing you remember saying

The man who woke you up from your deep sleep, is the one who dragged you out of memories the book was showing you. Memories would not be the most accurate way to describe what just happened but you have no other explanation.

“Nobody was ever able to do what you just did” he says

“What is this book?” you ask as you take a step back from the book

“This is the book of past and present” he tells you “it shows every single thing that is happening right now in the mortal world, humans living and dying, every decision they make, good or bad thoughts”

“Who was that man? The fallen God?” you ask him in curiosity

“Taehyung, it’s okay. I’ll let her know about it”

Yoongi carefully takes your hand into his, looking for any hint of disapproval in your eyes but you have none when it comes to him and your new friend Taehyung, a sense of security warms up your heart when they are in your presence. Yoongi and you sit down on the sofa right next to the fireplace, the soft noises of the burning wood bring back memories you try to suppress while Yoongi recounts events of the past, stories of how Jimin, the fallen God you met and other fallen Gods  brought shame to the Kingdom.

When all is said and done, Yoongi heads back to the headquarters to attend a meeting with their leader Namjoon, leaving you with Taehyung who is the one responsible for you.

...

Taehyung is taking his sweet time to do his so called research on you, within a few weeks you already have the ability to consume enormous amounts of information; history, science, evolution. And this kind of growth is not meant to happen in such a short time, not when the gods and daemons themselves have to learn little by little. Humans are strange, humans are unpredictable and so are you. Are you a human? Are you a god? Are you a daemon?

His eyes follow your every movement; the way your lower lip twitches every time you read something that excites you, how your eyes squint in curiosity when a new information is found within the endless pages of the books you’re reading, how pretty your skin looks under the warm light of the fireplace.

“You better stop” he tells himself

"Could you please stop fidgeting?" you ask him without taking your eyes off your book

Taehyung cannot stop staring at you, the former interruption with the librarian left him unsatisfied and bothered. Obviously you are sending him no signals, nothing impure coming from your way but that doesn’t stop him from closing his eyes to imagine how good you would feel underneath him.

With eyes shut tight his thoughts can only lead to pure filth, marking your hot skin, your sweet smell only serves to drive him crazy. Nobody has ever touched you in that way before and he wishes to be your first. Taehyung opens his eyes to be met with the beautiful sight of you. Legs now spread to help him with any kind of relief, his cock restrained inside his painfully tight pants.

“What’s up?” his voice dropped an octave and you can feel his eyes piercing through your skin

“What’s good?” another question follows but you're unsure on what he refers to

Unknowingly you trace your eyes back to him, Taehyung touching his soft lips, index finger brushing his lower lip and you cannot help but trace his every movement. A new feeling blooms inside your chest making the next thing he says so easy to follow and accept.

"Come here, angel"

The aroma coming from his aura is unbearably sweet, intoxicating. His long, curly hair falls in front of his sharp eyes, hands now placed in each of his thighs and it surprises you how breathtakingly deceitful looks are. You could have mistaken him for a devil if you didn't already know he is a God.

Lust.

The smell of lust is oozing out from every part of his body, he is so unnaturally warm when you touch his face. Taehyung grabs your hand softly, no words come out of his mouth when he pulls you in one sharp movement and places you underneath him.

"Do you trust me?"

The mixture of his scent with the warmth of his body offer nothing but safety, body relaxing under his weight. The hair at the back of your neck raises in every soft breath he takes, feeling so sensitive as it hits your skin.

"Please tell me you trust me"

Goosebumps awaken on your skin when his lips brush at the shell of your ear and you softly nod to his words. You are scared to answer, afraid your voice will betray you. You wouldn't have let him touch you, be so close to you if you didn't trust him. It doesn't feel wrong to be here with him, to feel him press his cock on your thigh.

You are not that clueless about sex, neither are you experienced. It doesn't matter because you want to know, you want to feel what those humans felt when they sold their souls to the lust demons. It must be so good, so heavenly good for them to sell the most valuable thing they have, their soul.

With his teeth grazing on your neck you close your eyes, a sound you have never made before leaves your lips and Taehyung immediately freezes. Taehyung's hand comes to wrap around your neck, fingers softly pressing against your throat but in a way that only serves to drive you crazy.

"You drive me mad. You haven't done anything but a sound and I am already so hard for you."

Taehyung roughly bites on your ear this time and you feel your panties sticking on your folds, your empty core in desperate need of attention.

"Let me take care of your every need, let me taste you"

With your clothes being a barrier anymore, Taehyung praises you, taking over you, senses overwhelmed as he is buried between your legs. His tongue is attacking your clit relentlessly, one of his digits inside your pussy and you can already tell why everyone is so easily blinded by lust.

The sounds of your moans fill up the small of the room, his fingers entering your mouth to silence you. Your instincts tell you to suck around his fingers, to lick them and you are glad you do. Taehyung groans, your actions cause him to speed up his finger, curling it inside your pussy to attack that soft spot that has you moan around his fingers.

Your back is arching, shivers welcoming a new wave of pleasure and you can sense your whole body falling apart. He knows what he is doing to you, acting so innocent as he wipes your cum off his face.

"You are dripping wet, angel"

The smirk on his face and his full blown out eyes have you spellbound, you haven't caught your breath yet from your first orgasm but you want more, you need more.

"Please, I want more"

Taehyung doesn't need more than those words to oblige, cock lining on your entrance, his need to feel you raw may cause him problems later on but he doesn't care, mind only filled with you. Thoughts of you. The sounds you make only for him.

"Look into my eyes" he says, voice laced with love and you know you won't regret having him be your first

You cannot close your eyes, the euphoric feeling of bliss overwhelms your senses and in that moment he is taking over you, he has your heart in his hands. A moment only the two of you will ever share, a memory you will forever treasure.

…

The night sky looked so beautiful from the balcony outside the library, your favourite place for the past few weeks now and you cannot wait until the moon rises. For the moon to be in its full bloom, to smell the night wind carrying the fragrance of the flowers that prettily decorate the garden.

“Why are you always up so late?” a familiar voices stops your train of thoughts

“Yoongi” you say with a smile forming on your lips

“World's asleep” you add “more room for thoughts”

Yoongi nods, quietly coming your way. Having him so close feels comforting, you had such a long day, the effort you put to trace Jimin again, the fallen god Yoongi and you saw in the human world, is wearing you down. But to have Yoongi share this beautiful night sky with you, a new feeling starts blooming in your heart. He has been supportive, he has been guiding you carefully into the human world and both inside his world, the community the Gods have. He is so good to you..

Like a dream come true, you find yourself able to breathe again, your heart coming at ease. Is it natural to feel the same way for more than two people? This feeling inside your heart is the same one you feel when you are around Taehyung.

But now you want to hold Yoongi closer, to feel him closer; with no thoughts on your mind you turn around and kiss him. What surprises you is not how easily Yoongi accepted your kiss but the way Taehyung found a way to creep inside your mind. Taehyung is filling your mind with thoughts of him, Yoongi is slowly making his own way to your heart and you cannot choose who owns your heart.

Every love story is a ghost story. Maybe you don’t have to choose.. Maybe you have found your ghosts.

[allaboutjoseph]

Patris Corde - Apostolic Letter of Pope Francis

https://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/apost_letters/documents/papa-francesco-lettera-ap_20201208_patris-corde.html

APOSTOLIC LETTER - PATRIS CORDE

OF THE HOLY FATHER, FRANCIS

ON THE 150th ANNIVERSARY OF THE PROCLAMATION OF SAINT JOSEPH AS PATRON OF THE UNIVERSAL CHURCH

WITH A FATHER’S HEART: that is how Joseph loved Jesus, whom all four Gospels refer to as “the son of Joseph”.[1]

Matthew and Luke, the two Evangelists who speak most of Joseph, tell us very little, yet enough for us to appreciate what sort of father he was, and the mission entrusted to him by God’s providence.

We know that Joseph was a lowly carpenter (cf. Mt 13:55), betrothed to Mary (cf. Mt 1:18; Lk 1:27). He was a “just man” (Mt 1:19), ever ready to carry out God’s will as revealed to him in the Law (cf. Lk 2:22.27.39) and through four dreams (cf. Mt 1:20; 2:13.19.22). After a long and tiring journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem, he beheld the birth of the Messiah in a stable, since “there was no place for them” elsewhere (cf. Lk 2:7). He witnessed the adoration of the shepherds (cf. Lk 2:8-20) and the Magi (cf. Mt 2:1-12), who represented respectively the people of Israel and the pagan peoples.

Joseph had the courage to become the legal father of Jesus, to whom he gave the name revealed by the angel: “You shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins” (Mt 1:21). As we know, for ancient peoples, to give a name to a person or to a thing, as Adam did in the account in the Book of Genesis (cf. 2:19-20), was to establish a relationship.

In the Temple, forty days after Jesus’ birth, Joseph and Mary offered their child to the Lord and listened with amazement to Simeon’s prophecy concerning Jesus and his Mother (cf. Lk 2:22-35). To protect Jesus from Herod, Joseph dwelt as a foreigner in Egypt (cf. Mt 2:13-18). After returning to his own country, he led a hidden life in the tiny and obscure village of Nazareth in Galilee, far from Bethlehem, his ancestral town, and from Jerusalem and the Temple. Of Nazareth it was said, “No prophet is to rise” (cf. Jn 7:52) and indeed, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” (cf. Jn 1:46). When, during a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, Joseph and Mary lost track of the twelve-year-old Jesus, they anxiously sought him out and they found him in the Temple, in discussion with the doctors of the Law (cf. Lk 2:41-50).

After Mary, the Mother of God, no saint is mentioned more frequently in the papal magisterium than Joseph, her spouse. My Predecessors reflected on the message contained in the limited information handed down by the Gospels in order to appreciate more fully his central role in the history of salvation. Blessed Pius IX declared him “Patron of the Catholic Church”,[2] Venerable Pius XII proposed him as “Patron of Workers”[3] and Saint John Paul II as “Guardian of the Redeemer”.[4] Saint Joseph is universally invoked as the “patron of a happy death”.[5]

Now, one hundred and fifty years after his proclamation as Patron of the Catholic Church by Blessed Pius IX (8 December 1870), I would like to share some personal reflections on this extraordinary figure, so close to our own human experience. For, as Jesus says, “out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks” (Mt 12:34). My desire to do so increased during these months of pandemic, when we experienced, amid the crisis, how “our lives are woven together and sustained by ordinary people, people often overlooked. People who do not appear in newspaper and magazine headlines, or on the latest television show, yet in these very days are surely shaping the decisive events of our history. Doctors, nurses, storekeepers and supermarket workers, cleaning personnel, caregivers, transport workers, men and women working to provide essential services and public safety, volunteers, priests, men and women religious, and so very many others. They understood that no one is saved alone… How many people daily exercise patience and offer hope, taking care to spread not panic, but shared responsibility. How many fathers, mothers, grandparents and teachers are showing our children, in small everyday ways, how to accept and deal with a crisis by adjusting their routines, looking ahead and encouraging the practice of prayer. How many are praying, making sacrifices and interceding for the good of all”.[6] Each of us can discover in Joseph – the man who goes unnoticed, a daily, discreet and hidden presence – an intercessor, a support and a guide in times of trouble. Saint Joseph reminds us that those who appear hidden or in the shadows can play an incomparable role in the history of salvation. A word of recognition and of gratitude is due to them all.

1. A beloved father

The greatness of Saint Joseph is that he was the spouse of Mary and the father of Jesus. In this way, he placed himself, in the words of Saint John Chrysostom, “at the service of the entire plan of salvation”.[7]

Saint Paul VI pointed out that Joseph concretely expressed his fatherhood “by making his life a sacrificial service to the mystery of the incarnation and its redemptive purpose. He employed his legal authority over the Holy Family to devote himself completely to them in his life and work. He turned his human vocation to domestic love into a superhuman oblation of himself, his heart and all his abilities, a love placed at the service of the Messiah who was growing to maturity in his home”.[8]

Thanks to his role in salvation history, Saint Joseph has always been venerated as a father by the Christian people. This is shown by the countless churches dedicated to him worldwide, the numerous religious Institutes, Confraternities and ecclesial groups inspired by his spirituality and bearing his name, and the many traditional expressions of piety in his honour. Innumerable holy men and women were passionately devoted to him. Among them was Teresa of Avila, who chose him as her advocate and intercessor, had frequent recourse to him and received whatever graces she asked of him. Encouraged by her own experience, Teresa persuaded others to cultivate devotion to Joseph.[9]

Every prayer book contains prayers to Saint Joseph. Special prayers are offered to him each Wednesday and especially during the month of March, which is traditionally dedicated to him.[10]

Popular trust in Saint Joseph is seen in the expression “Go to Joseph”, which evokes the famine in Egypt, when the Egyptians begged Pharaoh for bread. He in turn replied: “Go to Joseph; what he says to you, do” (Gen 41:55). Pharaoh was referring to Joseph the son of Jacob, who was sold into slavery because of the jealousy of his brothers (cf. Gen 37:11-28) and who – according to the biblical account – subsequently became viceroy of Egypt (cf. Gen 41:41-44).

As a descendant of David (cf. Mt 1:16-20), from whose stock Jesus was to spring according to the promise made to David by the prophet Nathan (cf. 2 Sam 7), and as the spouse of Mary of Nazareth, Saint Joseph stands at the crossroads between the Old and New Testaments.

2. A tender and loving father

Joseph saw Jesus grow daily “in wisdom and in years and in divine and human favour” (Lk 2:52). As the Lord had done with Israel, so Joseph did with Jesus: he taught him to walk, taking him by the hand; he was for him like a father who raises an infant to his cheeks, bending down to him and feeding him (cf. Hos 11:3-4).

In Joseph, Jesus saw the tender love of God: “As a father has compassion for his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him” (Ps 103:13).

In the synagogue, during the praying of the Psalms, Joseph would surely have heard again and again that the God of Israel is a God of tender love,[11] who is good to all, whose “compassion is over all that he has made” (Ps 145:9).

The history of salvation is worked out “in hope against hope” (Rom 4:18), through our weaknesses. All too often, we think that God works only through our better parts, yet most of his plans are realized in and despite our frailty. Thus Saint Paul could say: “To keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me: ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness’” (2 Cor 12:7-9).

Since this is part of the entire economy of salvation, we must learn to look upon our weaknesses with tender mercy.[12]

The evil one makes us see and condemn our frailty, whereas the Spirit brings it to light with tender love. Tenderness is the best way to touch the frailty within us. Pointing fingers and judging others are frequently signs of an inability to accept our own weaknesses, our own frailty. Only tender love will save us from the snares of the accuser (cf. Rev 12:10). That is why it is so important to encounter God’s mercy, especially in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, where we experience his truth and tenderness. Paradoxically, the evil one can also speak the truth to us, yet he does so only to condemn us. We know that God’s truth does not condemn, but instead welcomes, embraces, sustains and forgives us. That truth always presents itself to us like the merciful father in Jesus’ parable (cf. Lk 15:11-32). It comes out to meet us, restores our dignity, sets us back on our feet and rejoices for us, for, as the father says: “This my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found” (v. 24).

Even through Joseph’s fears, God’s will, his history and his plan were at work. Joseph, then, teaches us that faith in God includes believing that he can work even through our fears, our frailties and our weaknesses. He also teaches us that amid the tempests of life, we must never be afraid to let the Lord steer our course. At times, we want to be in complete control, yet God always sees the bigger picture.

3. An obedient father

As he had done with Mary, God revealed his saving plan to Joseph. He did so by using dreams, which in the Bible and among all ancient peoples, were considered a way for him to make his will known.[13]

Joseph was deeply troubled by Mary’s mysterious pregnancy. He did not want to “expose her to public disgrace”,[14] so he decided to “dismiss her quietly” (Mt 1:19).

In the first dream, an angel helps him resolve his grave dilemma: “Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins” (Mt 1:20-21). Joseph’s response was immediate: “When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him” (Mt 1:24). Obedience made it possible for him to surmount his difficulties and spare Mary.

In the second dream, the angel tells Joseph: “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him” (Mt 2:13). Joseph did not hesitate to obey, regardless of the hardship involved: “He got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod” (Mt 2:14-15).

In Egypt, Joseph awaited with patient trust the angel’s notice that he could safely return home. In a third dream, the angel told him that those who sought to kill the child were dead and ordered him to rise, take the child and his mother, and return to the land of Israel (cf. Mt 2:19-20). Once again, Joseph promptly obeyed. “He got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel” (Mt 2:21).

During the return journey, “when Joseph heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. After being warned in a dream” – now for the fourth time – “he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth” (Mt 2:22-23).

The evangelist Luke, for his part, tells us that Joseph undertook the long and difficult journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem to be registered in his family’s town of origin in the census of the Emperor Caesar Augustus. There Jesus was born (cf. Lk 2:7) and his birth, like that of every other child, was recorded in the registry of the Empire. Saint Luke is especially concerned to tell us that Jesus’ parents observed all the prescriptions of the Law: the rites of the circumcision of Jesus, the purification of Mary after childbirth, the offering of the firstborn to God (cf. 2:21-24).[15]

In every situation, Joseph declared his own “fiat”, like those of Mary at the Annunciation and Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.

In his role as the head of a family, Joseph taught Jesus to be obedient to his parents (cf. Lk 2:51), in accordance with God’s command (cf. Ex 20:12).

During the hidden years in Nazareth, Jesus learned at the school of Joseph to do the will of the Father. That will was to be his daily food (cf. Jn 4:34). Even at the most difficult moment of his life, in Gethsemane, Jesus chose to do the Father’s will rather than his own,[16] becoming “obedient unto death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:8).  The author of the Letter to the Hebrews thus concludes that Jesus “learned obedience through what he suffered” (5:8).

All this makes it clear that “Saint Joseph was called by God to serve the person and mission of Jesus directly through the exercise of his fatherhood” and that in this way, “he cooperated in the fullness of time in the great mystery of salvation and is truly a minister of salvation.”[17]

4. An accepting father

Joseph accepted Mary unconditionally. He trusted in the angel’s words.  “The nobility of Joseph’s heart is such that what he learned from the law he made dependent on charity. Today, in our world where psychological, verbal and physical violence towards women is so evident, Joseph appears as the figure of a respectful and sensitive man. Even though he does not understand the bigger picture, he makes a decision to protect Mary’s good name, her dignity and her life. In his hesitation about how best to act, God helped him by enlightening his judgment”.[18]

Often in life, things happen whose meaning we do not understand. Our first reaction is frequently one of disappointment and rebellion. Joseph set aside his own ideas in order to accept the course of events and, mysterious as they seemed, to embrace them, take responsibility for them and make them part of his own history. Unless we are reconciled with our own history, we will be unable to take a single step forward, for we will always remain hostage to our expectations and the disappointments that follow.

The spiritual path that Joseph traces for us is not one that explains, but accepts. Only as a result of this acceptance, this reconciliation, can we begin to glimpse a broader history, a deeper meaning. We can almost hear an echo of the impassioned reply of Job to his wife, who had urged him to rebel against the evil he endured: “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” (Job 2:10).

Joseph is certainly not passively resigned, but courageously and firmly proactive. In our own lives, acceptance and welcome can be an expression of the Holy Spirit’s gift of fortitude. Only the Lord can give us the strength needed to accept life as it is, with all its contradictions, frustrations and disappointments.

Jesus’ appearance in our midst is a gift from the Father, which makes it possible for each of us to be reconciled to the flesh of our own history, even when we fail to understand it completely.

Just as God told Joseph: “Son of David, do not be afraid!” (Mt 1:20), so he seems to tell us: “Do not be afraid!” We need to set aside all anger and disappointment, and to embrace the way things are, even when they do not turn out as we wish. Not with mere resignation but with hope and courage. In this way, we become open to a deeper meaning. Our lives can be miraculously reborn if we find the courage to live them in accordance with the Gospel. It does not matter if everything seems to have gone wrong or some things can no longer be fixed. God can make flowers spring up from stony ground. Even if our heart condemns us, “God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything” (1 Jn 3:20).

Here, once again, we encounter that Christian realism which rejects nothing that exists. Reality, in its mysterious and irreducible complexity, is the bearer of existential meaning, with all its lights and shadows. Thus, the Apostle Paul can say: “We know that all things work together for good, for those who love God” (Rom 8:28). To which Saint Augustine adds, “even that which is called evil (etiam illud quod malum dicitur)”.[19] In this greater perspective, faith gives meaning to every event, however happy or sad.

Nor should we ever think that believing means finding facile and comforting solutions. The faith Christ taught us is what we see in Saint Joseph. He did not look for shortcuts, but confronted reality with open eyes and accepted personal responsibility for it.

Joseph’s attitude encourages us to accept and welcome others as they are, without exception, and to show special concern for the weak, for God chooses what is weak (cf. 1 Cor 1:27). He is the “Father of orphans and protector of widows” (Ps 68:6), who commands us to love the stranger in our midst.[20]  I like to think that it was from Saint Joseph that Jesus drew inspiration for the parable of the prodigal son and the merciful father (cf. Lk 15:11-32).

5. A creatively courageous father

If the first stage of all true interior healing is to accept our personal history and embrace even the things in life that we did not choose, we must now add another important element: creative courage. This emerges especially in the way we deal with difficulties. In the face of difficulty, we can either give up and walk away, or somehow engage with it. At times, difficulties bring out resources we did not even think we had.

As we read the infancy narratives, we may often wonder why God did not act in a more direct and clear way. Yet God acts through events and people.  Joseph was the man chosen by God to guide the beginnings of the history of redemption. He was the true “miracle” by which God saves the child and his mother. God acted by trusting in Joseph’s creative courage. Arriving in Bethlehem and finding no lodging where Mary could give birth, Joseph took a stable and, as best he could, turned it into a welcoming home for the Son of God come into the world (cf. Lk 2:6-7). Faced with imminent danger from Herod, who wanted to kill the child, Joseph was warned once again in a dream to protect the child, and rose in the middle of the night to prepare the flight into Egypt (cf. Mt 2:13-14).

A superficial reading of these stories can often give the impression that the world is at the mercy of the strong and mighty, but the “good news” of the Gospel consists in showing that, for all the arrogance and violence of worldly powers, God always finds a way to carry out his saving plan. So too, our lives may at times seem to be at the mercy of the powerful, but the Gospel shows us what counts. God always finds a way to save us, provided we show the same creative courage as the carpenter of Nazareth, who was able to turn a problem into a possibility by trusting always in divine providence.

If at times God seems not to help us, surely this does not mean that we have been abandoned, but instead are being trusted to plan, to be creative, and to find solutions ourselves.

That kind of creative courage was shown by the friends of the paralytic, who lowered him from the roof in order to bring him to Jesus (cf. Lk 5:17-26). Difficulties did not stand in the way of those friends’ boldness and persistence. They were convinced that Jesus could heal the man, and “finding no way to bring him in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and let him down with his bed through the tiles into the middle of the crowd in front of Jesus. When he saw their faith, he said, ‘Friend, your sins are forgiven you’” (vv. 19-20). Jesus recognized the creative faith with which they sought to bring their sick friend to him.

The Gospel does not tell us how long Mary, Joseph and the child remained in Egypt. Yet they certainly needed to eat, to find a home and employment. It does not take much imagination to fill in those details. The Holy Family had to face concrete problems like every other family, like so many of our migrant brothers and sisters who, today too, risk their lives to escape misfortune and hunger. In this regard, I consider Saint Joseph the special patron of all those forced to leave their native lands because of war, hatred, persecution and poverty.

At the end of every account in which Joseph plays a role, the Gospel tells us that he gets up, takes the child and his mother, and does what God commanded him (cf. Mt 1:24; 2:14.21). Indeed, Jesus and Mary his Mother are the most precious treasure of our faith.[21]

In the divine plan of salvation, the Son is inseparable from his Mother, from Mary, who “advanced in her pilgrimage of faith, and faithfully persevered in her union with her Son until she stood at the cross”.[22]

We should always consider whether we ourselves are protecting Jesus and Mary, for they are also mysteriously entrusted to our own responsibility, care and safekeeping. The Son of the Almighty came into our world in a state of great vulnerability. He needed to be defended, protected, cared for and raised by Joseph. God trusted Joseph, as did Mary, who found in him someone who would not only save her life, but would always provide for her and her child. In this sense, Saint Joseph could not be other than the Guardian of the Church, for the Church is the continuation of the Body of Christ in history, even as Mary’s motherhood is reflected in the motherhood of the Church.[23] In his continued protection of the Church, Joseph continues to protect the child and his mother, and we too, by our love for the Church, continue to love the child and his mother.

That child would go on to say: “As you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Mt 25:40).  Consequently, every poor, needy, suffering or dying person, every stranger, every prisoner, every infirm person is “the child” whom Joseph continues to protect. For this reason, Saint Joseph is invoked as protector of the unfortunate, the needy, exiles, the afflicted, the poor and the dying.  Consequently, the Church cannot fail to show a special love for the least of our brothers and sisters, for Jesus showed a particular concern for them and personally identified with them. From Saint Joseph, we must learn that same care and responsibility. We must learn to love the child and his mother, to love the sacraments and charity, to love the Church and the poor. Each of these realities is always the child and his mother.

6. A working father

An aspect of Saint Joseph that has been emphasized from the time of the first social Encyclical, Pope Leo XIII’s Rerum Novarum, is his relation to work. Saint Joseph was a carpenter who earned an honest living to provide for his family. From him, Jesus learned the value, the dignity and the joy of what it means to eat bread that is the fruit of one’s own labour.

In our own day, when employment has once more become a burning social issue, and unemployment at times reaches record levels even in nations that for decades have enjoyed a certain degree of prosperity, there is a renewed need to appreciate the importance of dignified work, of which Saint Joseph is an exemplary patron.

Work is a means of participating in the work of salvation, an opportunity to hasten the coming of the Kingdom, to develop our talents and abilities, and to put them at the service of society and fraternal communion. It becomes an opportunity for the fulfilment not only of oneself, but also of that primary cell of society which is the family. A family without work is particularly vulnerable to difficulties, tensions, estrangement and even break-up. How can we speak of human dignity without working to ensure that everyone is able to earn a decent living?

Working persons, whatever their job may be, are cooperating with God himself, and in some way become creators of the world around us. The crisis of our time, which is economic, social, cultural and spiritual, can serve as a summons for all of us to rediscover the value, the importance and necessity of work for bringing about a new “normal” from which no one is excluded. Saint Joseph’s work reminds us that God himself, in becoming man, did not disdain work. The loss of employment that affects so many of our brothers and sisters, and has increased as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic, should serve as a summons to review our priorities. Let us implore Saint Joseph the Worker to help us find ways to express our firm conviction that no young person, no person at all, no family should be without work!

7. A father in the shadows

The Polish writer Jan Dobraczyński, in his book The Shadow of the Father,[24] tells the story of Saint Joseph’s life in the form of a novel. He uses the evocative image of a shadow to define Joseph. In his relationship to Jesus, Joseph was the earthly shadow of the heavenly Father: he watched over him and protected him, never leaving him to go his own way. We can think of Moses’ words to Israel: “In the wilderness… you saw how the Lord your God carried you, just as one carries a child, all the way that you travelled” (Deut 1:31). In a similar way, Joseph acted as a father for his whole life.[25]

Fathers are not born, but made. A man does not become a father simply by bringing a child into the world, but by taking up the responsibility to care for that child. Whenever a man accepts responsibility for the life of another, in some way he becomes a father to that person.

Children today often seem orphans, lacking fathers. The Church too needs fathers. Saint Paul’s words to the Corinthians remain timely: “Though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers” (1 Cor 4:15). Every priest or bishop should be able to add, with the Apostle: “I became your father in Christ Jesus through the Gospel” (ibid.). Paul likewise calls the Galatians: “My little children, with whom I am again in travail until Christ be formed in you!” (4:19).

Being a father entails introducing children to life and reality. Not holding them back, being overprotective or possessive, but rather making them capable of deciding for themselves, enjoying freedom and exploring new possibilities. Perhaps for this reason, Joseph is traditionally called a “most chaste” father. That title is not simply a sign of affection, but the summation of an attitude that is the opposite of possessiveness. Chastity is freedom from possessiveness in every sphere of one’s life. Only when love is chaste, is it truly love. A possessive love ultimately becomes dangerous: it imprisons, constricts and makes for misery. God himself loved humanity with a chaste love; he left us free even to go astray and set ourselves against him. The logic of love is always the logic of freedom, and Joseph knew how to love with extraordinary freedom. He never made himself the centre of things. He did not think of himself, but focused instead on the lives of Mary and Jesus.

Joseph found happiness not in mere self-sacrifice but in self-gift. In him, we never see frustration but only trust. His patient silence was the prelude to concrete expressions of trust. Our world today needs fathers. It has no use for tyrants who would domineer others as a means of compensating for their own needs. It rejects those who confuse authority with authoritarianism, service with servility, discussion with oppression, charity with a welfare mentality, power with destruction. Every true vocation is born of the gift of oneself, which is the fruit of mature sacrifice. The priesthood and consecrated life likewise require this kind of maturity. Whatever our vocation, whether to marriage, celibacy or virginity, our gift of self will not come to fulfilment if it stops at sacrifice; were that the case, instead of becoming a sign of the beauty and joy of love, the gift of self would risk being an expression of unhappiness, sadness and frustration.

When fathers refuse to live the lives of their children for them, new and unexpected vistas open up. Every child is the bearer of a unique mystery that can only be brought to light with the help of a father who respects that child’s freedom. A father who realizes that he is most a father and educator at the point when he becomes “useless”, when he sees that his child has become independent and can walk the paths of life unaccompanied. When he becomes like Joseph, who always knew that his child was not his own but had merely been entrusted to his care. In the end, this is what Jesus would have us understand when he says: “Call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven” (Mt 23:9).

In every exercise of our fatherhood, we should always keep in mind that it has nothing to do with possession, but is rather a “sign” pointing to a greater fatherhood. In a way, we are all like Joseph: a shadow of the heavenly Father, who “makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Mt 5:45). And a shadow that follows his Son.

* * *

“Get up, take the child and his mother” (Mt 2:13), God told Saint Joseph.

The aim of this Apostolic Letter is to increase our love for this great saint, to encourage us to implore his intercession and to imitate his virtues and his zeal.

Indeed, the proper mission of the saints is not only to obtain miracles and graces, but to intercede for us before God, like Abraham[26] and Moses[27], and like Jesus, the “one mediator” (1 Tim 2:5), who is our “advocate” with the Father (1 Jn 2:1) and who “always lives to make intercession for [us]” (Heb 7:25; cf. Rom 8:34).

The saints help all the faithful “to strive for the holiness and the perfection of their particular state of life”.[28] Their lives are concrete proof that it is possible to put the Gospel into practice.

Jesus told us: “Learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart” (Mt 11:29). The lives of the saints too are examples to be imitated. Saint Paul explicitly says this: “Be imitators of me!” (1 Cor 4:16).[29] By his eloquent silence, Saint Joseph says the same.

Before the example of so many holy men and women, Saint Augustine asked himself: “What they could do, can you not also do?” And so he drew closer to his definitive conversion, when he could exclaim: “Late have I loved you, Beauty ever ancient, ever new!”[30]

We need only ask Saint Joseph for the grace of graces: our conversion.

Let us now make our prayer to him:

Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer, Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary. To you God entrusted his only Son; in you Mary placed her trust; with you Christ became man.

Blessed Joseph, to us too, show yourself a father and guide us in the path of life. Obtain for us grace, mercy and courage, and defend us from every evil. Amen.

Given in Rome, at Saint John Lateran, on 8 December, Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, in the year 2020, the eighth of my Pontificate.

Franciscus

[ladymercytaylor]

Last Christmas - Joe Mazzello x Reader (Holiday Series!)

Joe used to love Christmas. It was his favourite time of the year; usually spent with his family and friends drinking and eating way too much. But truth be told, he was dreading Christmas this year. Because one very important person was missing from his life. And it was all his fault. The whole sad story began the last year. Well…really 20 years ago, but shit hit the fan last December. You and Joe had met your first day of college. You’d been distracted, trying to fish your phone out of the bottom of your over-filled bag when you’d collided with an equally distracted ginger who’d been attempting to find the right building for his afternoon class. The map and all your books were sent crashing onto the concrete, which was quickly followed by furious apologies from both bruised parties. After embarrassed introductions you’d realised you were both heading to the same Intro to Literature Class and decided to walk there together (Joe was extra relieved as you’d been to that building that morning and he could follow your lead). And you were very kind, only teasing him for 5 minutes about him having been walking away from the Arts building. With a furious blush colouring his cheeks, he checked the map again only to groan loudly when he realised he’d been holding it upside down. And with that, you found your best friend. And that was how it stayed for the next 2 decades. The two of you were utterly inseparable, never going more than 2 days without speaking in-spite of his horrendous schedule. But it was always made easier with your job being an Associate Professor at NYU and your semester breaks were always spent jetting off to wherever Joe was in the world. He was always apologising and offering to pay for your airfare but you constantly refused, saying that you really didn’t mind. 

And that wasn’t a lie – wherever Joe was, that was where you wanted to be. 

Because you were hopelessly, completely and utterly in love with him. It took you an embarrassingly long time to figure it out, but in your final year at USC together you’d seen him hooking up with a girl from his Screenwriting class on the sofa when you came home early from your Shakespeare lecture. You’d immediately ducked back out into the hall, red hot tears stinging your eyes before it clicked in your brain. There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t give to be that girl. But the fear of losing your best friend had you locking those feelings away in the deepest, darkest corner of your heart, concealing it from the world – and most particularly Joe. Of course a few people figured it out over the years; your mum, your siblings and your best friend Kate. But they were kind enough to keep it to themselves. Because to them, Joe was the dumbest man alive for not seeing what was right under his nose all along.

It was Christmas 2018 when everything changed. Joe was home for the holidays for the first time in three years and he was celebrating with a blow-out party at his Brooklyn apartment. Every one of his friends was invited; his other actor friends, college mates and of course his best friends from Bohemian Rhapsody. You’d been so relieved when you’d got the invitation 2 weeks ago. There was something you’d been desperate to tell your best friend – but it was definitely an ‘in person’ revelation and you’d been pre-occupied visiting your extended family before the holiday season kicked off. 

So. There you were. Standing by the large living room windows of Joe’s apartment with a glass of champagne clutched tightly in your hand as you watched the thick flakes of snow drift down to the power-covered street below. “What’s got you looking so thoughtful over here?” a deep voice asked from over your shoulder. Looking into the dark glass you could see a familiar mop of blonde curls and turned to smile at Ben. There was an unlit cigarette dangling loosely between his lips and he was rugged up in his coat, scarf and beanie. Obviously about to head outside to abide by Joe’s ‘no smoking in the apartment’ rule. “I’m trying to work up the courage to tell Joe” you murmured. Ben immediately gave you a sympathetic nod, taking the cigarette from between his lips to fiddle with it aimlessly. “God, I don’t even know how you’re going to do that” “Me neither,” you sighed, “but it has to be done” “Good luck” he said with a half-hearted smile. “I’d do it now if I were you. If he plays another round of beer pong you can tell him but he’ll forget by morning” A loud chorus of cheers punched through the music; Joe’s team had evidently just won the game as you could distinctly hear him calling Sebastian “a little bitch”. “Go before you lose your nerve” were Ben’s parting words of wisdom before opening the window and climbing out onto the snowy fire escape. You took a steadying breath, willing the fingers clutching your glass to stop shaking. Before you could change your mind you crossed the small living room, downing the rest of your drink as you went. “Joe, I need to talk to you” your voice barely carried over Mariah Carey’s ‘Santa Baby’ that was pouring out of the speakers – but your best friend still heard you. When he turned you could see the slight redness discolouring his hazel eyes, but he was still relatively conscious so you’d have to settle for that. “Excuse me, gentlemen” Joe announced to his friends, who all gave him varying heckles in response, “but my petal needs me” Normally that nickname would have turned you into a giggling mess, but that night it shot a white hot stab of guilt through your chest. Joe pulled you into the deserted hallway, the crooning of Mariah deadened slightly. “What’s up, petal? This better be important to interrupt such a stellar beer pong tournament” he teased, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans. “I…I” you stammered, heat rising in your cheeks. God this was so hard. Joe raised his eyebrows in a silent ‘go on’ gesture and the words spilt out of your mouth. “I got a job offer” “That’s great!” he grinned after a slightly stunned silence. “Don’t know why that was so-” “At the University of St Andrews” you finished. Joe paused, his arms half raised to give you a celebratory hug. “As in-” “The UK. Yeah” The Christmas carols and excited cries of Joe’s friends fell away, leaving you and your best friend for more than half of your life in silence. “Have you accepted it?” he asked after a while, confusion knitting his eyebrows together. You shook your head, your gaze falling to the toes of your black boots. “Do…do you want to go?” “I think so” was your meek reply. A soft scoff escaped Joe’s lips which had your head snapping up. “What?” “I’m sorry, petal, but I just don’t buy it” he shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest before leaning against the corridor wall. “Your whole life is here. Why would you want to leave that?” “My ‘whole life’?” you questioned, years of resentment suddenly boiling like magma inside your stomach. “My family isn’t here. Kate isn’t here – she’s in Scotland. The only things I have in New York are my job and you” “Then stay for me” he grinned, but there was something akin to fear clouding his eyes. “I can’t do that, Joe. Not anymore” you sighed, the decades of unrequited love crushing down on your shoulders. “I can’t spend the rest of my life following after you with the sadistic hope that one day you’ll finally see how goddamned in love with you I am” There it was. The dirty little secret that had been weighing on your heart for 20 years. Fear gripped every cell of your body, freezing you to the carpet. You waited for him to laugh. Or yell. Or just do anything other than stare at you. What felt like a decade passed, the only sounds were the thundering of your heart and the muffled sounds of Joe’s guests, who were completely unaware of your heart wrenching confession. “I should go” you managed to whisper through your aching throat. You turned to walk away but Joe’s hand shot out, wrapping tightly around your wrist. “Joe” the name was barely a whimper but it was all you could get out before Joe pulled you towards him, crushing his lips against yours. You responded immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck. His lips were everything you’d ever thought they’d be, warm and soft and felt like home.  “What about the party?” you asked, reluctantly pulling back but resting your forehead against his. “Fuck the party” he whispered, his breath hot against your lips. “Stay. With me” You weren’t sure if he was talking about the job or you current situation, but you didn’t think too hard on it, allowing him to pull you into his bedroom, every other person in the apartment already forgotten.

You slowly blinked awake, roused by the cold winter light streaming in passed the open curtains. Snuggling back into your pillow you stretched out your arm, expecting to find Joe’s warm body next to you. But instead your hand wrapped around a sheet of paper.

Petal, Had to go, early meeting. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. Call you later. - Joe

The butterflied that had erupted when you remembered the events of last night faded slightly. Who had an early meeting on a Sunday? As you re-dressed in your sequinned party outfit you told yourself that this was normal. Joe’s schedule had always been strange, and your best friend was constantly complaining that there was no such thing as “weekends” in the entertainment industry. So when you stepped out onto the frigid Brooklyn sidewalk in last night’s outfit you were convinced that you’d hear from Joe that night. Except that you didn’t. Or the night after. Or the night after that. 

It was 3 days before Christmas when Joe finally surfaced. And it wasn’t even with a phone call. You were sitting with Ben and Gwil in their hotel suite, waiting for the two of them to finish preening so you could all head out for dinner before the two would return to London the next day. “Which glasses?” Gwilym asked, holding out two pairs. “Clear and square or black and round?” “Clear. Can see your eyes better” you answered immediately. The brunette grinned as Ben chuckled, sliding the plastic frames onto his nose. “So, tell us again how you scored that job?” Ben requested from his place in front of the mirror as he artfully applied gel to his blonde curls. “The school year went back in September” “All I know is that one of the professors got a little too friendly with a first year student. They thought it best to avoid the scandal and get someone in to take over. The press would have had a field day if he kept teaching” “I have to say - there is something kind of hot about the whole ‘Professor-Student’ dynamic” Gwil admitted, flopping down next to you on the end of his bed. “What exactly did you get up to at uni, Mr Lee?” you teased gently, but a full on belly laugh followed when he turned a violent shade of pink. “You know, I don’t think I want the answer to that” “Here here!” Ben agreed, his green eyes still fixed on his reflection. “so…after last night” he started, his eyes flickering to you in the mirror, “I’m guessing you’re not accepting the job?” “Still waiting for some more information” you murmured, your eyes falling to your fingers. “But…no. I think I’m staying” Both Ben and Gwilym watched a secretive smile twist your lips and they shared an excited glance. “So….anything happen last night you want to tell us about?” “I don’t kiss and tell, boys” “Ooooh!” they chorused. You let out an embarrassed laugh, your hands flying to cover your burning face. “Get it gurl” Ben chirped. All you could do was laugh louder and lean forward to bury your face in the comforter. “Stop teasing her and get ready, Benjamin” Gwil commanded, pointing to Ben’s lack of pants. “We’ll miss dinner at this rate” “Yes, Mr Lee” the blonde drawled as he turned back to the mirror. After a few minutes Ben finally moved away from his reflection, instead relocating to his suitcase where he began to stare at his pant options. “Typical” Gwilym chuckled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You followed suit, clicking on your Instagram app and scrolling through the latest photos. There was one of Kate, clearly dressed up to go on a date, another one of your cousin at her friend’s baby shower. But there was one that stopped you cold. You’d always meant to delete her. As soon as you’d found out Claire cheated on Joe she’d been persona non grata in your life and you’d thought it had been the same for your best friend. But the photo that glared back at you screamed the exact opposite. Claire had her arms wrapped so tightly around Joe’s middle it looked like she was trying to snap his spine, a ridiculous grin on her stupid face. The simple caption read “Finally got the one that got away! Best Christmas ever!” Ben’s question of the name of the restaurant you were going to fell on deaf ears and when the boys noticed your lack of reply they tip toed over to peek at the screen from over your shoulder. Both gasped quietly but you couldn’t tear your eyes off that fucking photo. “Is that the girl that –” Ben started but you cut him off. “Yep” “With his-” Gwil added and you nodded quickly. “Yep” “On his-” Ben continued. “Yep” you replied. “Jesus Christ” Gwilym muttered, still staring at the image on your phone screen. “I love Joe, but what a twat” “I’ve – I’ve got to make a call” you murmured robotically, standing up from the bed and heading out onto the balcony without a backwards glance. It was for the best that you didn’t turn around really, as you would have seen Ben mouth ‘Fuck’ to his best friend. Joe picked up after three rings, hesitation clear in his voice. “Hey, Petal” he managed to get out before you jumped down his throat. “Are you fucking joking, Joe? Claire?! Have you had a stroke I didn’t know about?” “I can explain –” he tried again but you were faster. “This is what you do after I tell you I love you? Sleep with me and then go running back to your scumbag ex?” you shouted. “I got scared” his meek reply sent your blood boiling. “Scared? You got scared? Try telling your best friend that you love them and then you’ll know what scared really feels like” you spat, your hand clenching so hard on the balcony railing that your knuckles popped. “Petal, don’t be like that” he groaned but all you did was scoff. “You know what? Fuck you, Joe” you hissed before smashing your thumb against the end call icon. You stayed on the balcony for a few moments, desperately trying to slow your racing heart and will down the tears that were stinging your eyes. With anger still flickering inside your chest you pulled up your email and began typing furiously.

That was the last time Joe heard your voice. He tried to visit you the next day, but you refused to open the door and he left dejected and cold. He tried again a week later after nearly a hundred unanswered voicemails but there was no response. He did see someone though, your neighbour Mrs Brookes. Who promptly informed him that you’d packed all your things and sublet the apartment – disappearing with only a rapid goodbye. He wasn’t surprised you left. He’d been expecting it really, after the way he treated you. But that didn’t stop it from breaking his heart. There were no words for how much Joe regretted what he did to you, and he knew better than to try and contact you again. Moving halfway around the world to get away from him sent a pretty clear message. But the regret never stopped eating away at his insides. And that was how he found himself standing on a snow covered London street on Christmas Eve. Normally the holidays were spent with his family, but Ben had recently been devastated by another bad breakup and had begged his former co-star to spend Christmas with him in his now empty apartment. Joe jumped at the chance, immediately booking himself a flight. He told himself that he was only doing it to help out a friend, but a niggling voice in the back of his mind kept whispering your name. The frigid cold bit at Joe’s exposed face and hands, the latter of which he quickly stuffed into the pockets of his black coat. Looking around at the deserted street, he watched the fluffy flakes of snow glide softly down onto the snow covered footpath as a melancholy sky escaped his lips. He’d been in London for 4 days and still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to try and contact you. He wasn’t even sure your phone number was still the same, he’d been too scared to text you. “Come on, Ben” he groaned quietly to himself, shuffling his powder covered feet. How long did it take to buy 2 bottles of Scotch? A loud laugh echoed down the street, freezing Joe to the spot. He knew that laugh. He’d spent 20 years with that laugh. It was hard to see through the curtain of snow steadily falling from the dark sky, but a few blocks down he could make out two figures walking towards him. One shorter in a bright red coat and the other much taller, dressed in navy. The man swore his heart stopped beating as he recognised the radiant smile on your face, but it immediately clenched when he realised who was making you grin. Gwilym’s mitten covered hand was holding gripping onto yours as he swung your entwined hands between you. More giggles pealed from your lips, each one like a knife through Joe’s chest. It wasn’t meant to go this way. This wasn’t meant to happen. “Oh, hi Joe” Gwilym stammered when the couple realised who they were walking towards. Joe smiled tightly at his friend before daring to peek at you. You were regarding him with a stone-cold face, all the light in your eyes that had been there only moments before now extinguished. “Funny running into you here” “Only bottle shop open near Ben’s place” Joe shrugged, his stomach twisting into knots. Tension so thick it was practically as solid as the surrounding snowflakes settled over you. “I might just go in and grab the wine. Be out in a bit, love” Gwilym offered, trying (and failing) to keep his tone light. Joe couldn’t help but scowl as he pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before ducking into the shop. “What are you doing here, Joe?” you asked, folding your arms tightly over your chest. “I came to spend the holidays with Ben. He’s not doing so great” your former best friend replied stiffly as he took in everything that had changed in the last year. Your hair was longer and a small gold charm he didn’t recognise was peeking out from the collar of your coat. His hands clenched when he realised it was probably a gift from Gwilym. “Ah, Emily” you nodded, kicking the snow gently with the toe of your boot. “And what are you doing here exactly? Shouldn’t you be in Scotland?” he asked, his words far more biting than he intended. “I’m spending the holidays with Gwilym” you replied stiffly, not raising your eyes from the footpath. “Meeting his family” you added quietly. “When exactly did this charming development occur?” Joe barked, anger flashing in his hazel eyes. “A couple of weeks after I moved, if it’s any of your business” you snapped back. Joe watched your eyes narrow dangerously. He knew better than to push you but he was so upset he just couldn’t help himself. “If you’re screwing one of my best friends I think it is my business” he shot back, his hands clenching so tightly in his pockets that his nails bit into his palms. “I’m not just screwing him, Joe!” you exclaimed, anger prickling up the back of your neck. “But I shouldn’t be surprised that you thought that. Sex is the only thing you want from someone, right?” Joe swallowed hard. He should have expected that. He deserved it really, but hearing it from you made it so much worse. It was as if all of the pain he’d caused you suddenly washed through his own body. “So…you love him?” the man in front of you asked after an awkward pause. You nodded. “Yes” “Petal, I’m –” “I don’t want to hear it” you interjected, the back of your eyes prickling uncomfortably. “You don’t deserve to apologise for what you did. You don’t deserve me, Joe” you murmured, the streetlight shining in the tears that were welling up in your eyes. A lead weight dropped into his stomach but he shook his head. “No, I don’t” he admitted and you watched the apple of his throat bob rapidly. He opened his mouth to continue but he was interrupted by the soft tinkling of the bottle shop’s bell as Ben and Gwilym stepped out onto the street each clutching a dark bottle. “(Y/N)!” Ben cried with far too much enthusiasm as he crunched through the snow to wrap you up in a tight hug. “What an unexpected surprise” “I’ll say” Joe muttered to himself, but a reproachful look from Gwilym had him shutting up with an embarrassed blush sweeping up his neck. “Are you coming to mine on Saturday?” Ben asked, his green eyes shining with excitement. “No, sorry Benny” you winced, “Kate’s down here visiting her girlfriend and they invited me over. It’s the first time I’m meeting Amira so I really couldn’t say no” “Alright” he conceded with a playful sigh. “But I want your word that you’ll visit before you head back up to Scotland” “Promise” you vowed, smiling weakly. “We better go, darling. We can’t keep your parents waiting” “Right you are, love” Gwilym replied, obviously eager for an excuse to leave. “I’ll see you boys later” “Behave!” Ben called out as the couple walked away, tucking the brown bottle under his arm to wave excitedly. Gwilym returned it with equal joy, but you could only manage a small half wave, your eyes still fixed on Joe. “Bye, petal” was his whispered reply as he watched you turn and walk away, hand in hand with your new love. And in that moment, Joe made a promise to himself. That as soon as you and Gwilym broke up he’d be there. To tell you what an idiot he’d been. That he’d loved you for longer than he wanted to admit but he was terrified of loosing you. That he’d do anything to have you back in his life. But he never got the chance. When he saw you again there was a glittering ring on your left hand and he realised he’d have to live with his mistake. Because really, it was all his fault. He’d ignored what was under his nose all along.

[saveonesouls]

The Gods Aren’t Dead

A/N: So thanks to @flairfatale​ I now have to write this little thing up, which is gonna be on AO3 too with their gifset here . I couldn’t help it because my creative mindset is back full swing and I’ve been writing and drawing nonstop for a while lol so here we are! I might make this a chapter thing? It will be interesting. For music for the feel I was getting-ish for each of them, here’s Athena and Ares’ songs! I’m finding good ones for Nemesis and Adonis for next chapter! ENJOY!

Prologue:

“Adonis.”

“Ares.”

“I see you’ve taken on a nicer form than last time.” Ares’ lips curl into an amused smile.

“You’re one to talk. Now at least you can be called the Goddess of War and go toe to toe with Athena.”

Ares moved forward with her blonde hair swaying with the light wind that Adonis carried with her. “Like I would want to go and have a talk with her. She stared her blue eyes back into the brown ones that fell before her as her boots moved forward more and pressed against the rocks more into the dirt as they stood on a cliff, looking out to a town, a city. The sun was slowly falling from the sky and the moon slowly rising, the clouds were moving at it’s own pace, it’s own way as the two women stood their.

“So why did you choose this form this time around?”

“Huh?” Adonis turned her head to look at the blonde.

“What made you be female now? I’m curious.”

Adonis paused in thought. She never gave it much thought. She actually didn’t think she needed to answer something like that, if she was honest. In reality, she didn’t even know if a response was needed. Maybe Ares was teasing her, making her hesitate to insult her. After all, Ares was the one that attacked her, or him rather, a long while ago. Back in the old days.

“Adonis, it doesn’t have to have much thought. I’m just--”

“I felt better this way to give the idea of rebirth. Though I know my... beauty and desire role is still needed in some capacity.”

“To Aphrodite, you mean.”

Adonis sighed heavily. “I told you before, Ares. You won.” She turned her head as she pointed to Ares, revealing her hands from her dark cloak. “You can have her if she wishes to have you. She knows my eyes are for another and knows that this time around it is best she and I just... remain not romantically involved after the incident.”

“Which I apologized for.” Ares shrugged and they both fell into silence. It wasn’t until the feeling of a strong wind chill and a smell of what Adonis would only say as “olive” and Ares had turned and rolled her eyes. “Athena. So glad you could join us.”

The other grinned as she walked closer and hugged her the War Goddess. “Ares.” She then hugged Adonis and her grin grew. “Adonis. I see you’re fairing well.”

Adonis nodded. “Yes, I am. Living in this world has taught me a lot” Her eyes moved back towards the city below. “It’s why I called you two and one other.”

“Who?” Ares and Athena asked in unison.

“Me.”

The three looked over and there she was. Her red hair and all, the eyes dark like the many souls she’s taken, the many people she served justice, the souls the intimidated, put fear in, the ones that put fear in others of the evil deeds the brought about on the mortals.

“Nemesis...” Athena breathed.

“Lovely to see you all.” Nemesis walked closer and looked at Adonis and Ares with an almost shock but a new look took on her face. It was a mix of amusement and approval. “I see you two have changed. Trying a new look or something?”

“In a way.”

“Yes.”

Ares and Adonis looked at each other and Nemesis just shrugged.

“Right, well. I’m here. What is this meeting about?”

“It’s not about dad is it? Because I swear--”

“No, Athena. It isn’t.” Adonis said and she let out a little huff. She was building courage to tell them, Athena could see it. Adonis wasn’t good at really telling things to others, especially to the likes of Athena and Ares, who to Adonis was more powerful than she was. Adonis looked up at the 3 sets of eyes looking at her and she spoke. “I think we should spend more time with the mortals.”

“What? Hell no!” Ares crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow. “Why in Our Names would we do that? They are not ones we should meddle with. We have them bending to us, Adonis. We are their Gods, or... Goddess’ in our case. They barely deserve us being down here to help them.”

“Ares, you’re being a bit unreasonable.” Athena said with a little sigh. “Let Adonis explain.”

“Explain?! Explain that we should live among the people who are savages? Who are the ones who are just as helpless as their animals to us? They are at our feet. We shouldn’t have to stoop to their level!”

“Ares.” Ares looked at Nemesis, who was staring back. “They are not like the animals. They are smarter, intelligent. It’s why we do help them because they seek guidance to become better than what they originally are. Without them, there is no us.” Ares scoffed and turned away from them. “Typical as always, Ares: Short temper, quick to assume, full of rage and anger, and always want to cause violence and bring chaos with the mortals.”

“I do NOT--” Ares turned but then stopped herself. She took a deep breath and clenched her jaw, her blond hair moving out of her face.

“Going to prove my point, Rage Prince? Or shall I call you Princess now?” Ares felt a fire in his belly as Nemesis spoke with a smirk. But Nemesis continued speak but now towards Adonis. “Adonis, if we are to live among them my question is also of curiosity: Why?”

“Simple. It’s something Ares made a point of.” Adonis gulped and looked at Ares before her eyes moved to Athena and Nemesis. “They rely too much on us and the times are changing. In the end, there might be a point where we will have to disappear, have them think--”

“--We are dead.” Athena stated, accidentally finishing Adonis’ statement. Adonis gave an almost hesitant nod before Athena stood straight more and nodded. “I understand now. But what of Zeus? Does he agree with this move? Have you told him yet?”

“I have and he agrees.”

That was a shocker to all of them, Ares especially. Their Father, Zeus, the God of the Thunder, Sky, and Lightning, and the Ruler of Gods, actually agreed to something like this. Their father took being the Ruler of the Gods very seriously. He even took it as a way to try to sleep with anything, which Ares wish he lowkey didn’t but at the same time? They had a gut feeling Zeus wouldn’t have minded other than the fact of ruling in “secret”. Then again, Adonis knew more than what she was letting on, but she wouldn’t say. Ares almost wanted to shake it out of her, but knew best not to with Nemesis and Athena there. Anything Ares would do, they’d defend Adonis. She was the most unloved God after all, her own Father said it to her in battle when she was in her original male form. It struck deep with her, but never said a word. Now, it came a time that even the most unloved had someone telling her she needed to hide out to make the people not rely on them.

Adonis knew this and that was what to happen. They couldn’t abandon the post completely, but they needed a way to “hide”.

“Adonis?”

Adonis turned to look at Nemesis. “Yes, Nemesis?”

“If we do this” Nemesis started, biting her bottom lip in thought a moment before speaking again. “We should do it the right way in the most logical way possible.” Then she looked at Athena.

Athena blinked and then looked at Ares. “War.” Athena said simply and that caused the blonde woman that was her now known sister to smirk heavily. Athena could see even the bright blue eyes go dark.

“Oh... this is going to be fun.”

Many years passed since that moment. Many years where they changed their name thousands of times. Yet now in this timeline they knew exactly what to call themselves.

Bayley. The lovely Adonis who was loved by all, was kind, gentle, and beautiful. The God of Rebirth, The God of Beauty and Desire who gave a change to being a Goddess, but still knew they all referred her as a God, which she didn’t mind. it’s who she was before and now she was reborn in a new way, a comfortable way.

Sasha. The War Strategist, the Goddess of Wisdom, Athena. The one who plans before doing everything and anything she puts her mind to. That included protecting those who were in need.

Becky. The Goddess of Revenge, Justice, Divine Retribution, Nemesis. The one who plots after being beat, who plots when evil deeds are had. The one who would go to bat for anyone despite getting a hard hit to the face and their nose being broken.

And last but not least, Charlotte. The God of War, the God who turned to being a Goddess for his own reasons, the God who was unloved by all, who was ruthless, who was violent, blood-driven, angry... Was destructive, full of chaos. The first to punch first and ask questions later. The other half of Athena, many would say, in times of war and battle.

The four stayed close, for their own reasons. One might say because in reality, they blended oddly well together. One might say because Ares couldn’t live without Athena being around to bail him out and Athena couldn’t live without Ares to fight her battles with people who treat her badly. They both couldn’t live without Nemesis swearing up a storm at other people telling them they better “watch out before justice gets to them and gives them what for” and they all couldn’t live without Adonis.

No.

Adonis’ light in her was infectious. The light in her was warm, was needed, was kind. Athena was used to some kindness, but with Adonis they all felt kindness for once. For once, Ares felt a sort of love with friendship, with a relation with family. Despite Adonis and Ares’ past together with Aphrodite, Adonis moved passed that. And Nemesis? When Nemesis was boiling in anger over someone hurting her and being down on herself, Adonis was there with strawberries she grew in the garden and talking with Nemesis about her problems and helping her.

So, they lived in somewhat harmony and that...

That was enough for now.

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

24th November >> Mass Readings (USA)

Saints Andrew Dũng-Lạc and his Companions, Martyrs

    on 

Tuesday, Thirty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time.

Tuesday, Thirty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the feria (Tuesday))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Tuesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Revelation 14:14-19

The time to reap has come, because the earth’s harvest is fully ripe.

I, John, looked and there was a white cloud, and sitting on the cloud one who looked like a son of man, with a gold crown on his head and a sharp sickle in his hand. Another angel came out of the temple, crying out in a loud voice to the one sitting on the cloud, “Use your sickle and reap the harvest, for the time to reap has come, because the earth’s harvest is fully ripe.” So the one who was sitting on the cloud swung his sickle over the earth, and the earth was harvested.    Then another angel came out of the temple in heaven who also had a sharp sickle. Then another angel came from the altar, who was in charge of the fire, and cried out in a loud voice to the one who had the sharp sickle, “Use your sharp sickle and cut the clusters from the earth’s vines, for its grapes are ripe.” So the angel swung his sickle over the earth and cut the earth’s vintage. He threw it into the great wine press of God’s fury.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 96:10, 11-12, 13

R/ The Lord comes to judge the earth.

Say among the nations: The LORD is king. He has made the world firm, not to be moved;    he governs the peoples with equity.

R/ The Lord comes to judge the earth.

Let the heavens be glad and the earth rejoice;    let the sea and what fills it resound;    let the plains be joyful and all that is in them! Then shall all the trees of the forest exult.

R/ The Lord comes to judge the earth.

Before the LORD, for he comes;    for he comes to rule the earth. He shall rule the world with justice    and the peoples with his constancy.

R/ The Lord comes to judge the earth.

Gospel Acclamation

Revelation 2:10c

Alleluia, alleluia. Remain faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

Luke 21:5-11

There will not be left a stone upon another stone.

While some people were speaking about how the temple was adorned with costly stones and votive offerings, Jesus said, “All that you see here– the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.”    Then they asked him, “Teacher, when will this happen? And what sign will there be when all these things are about to happen?” He answered, “See that you not be deceived, for many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he,’ and ‘The time has come.’ Do not follow them! When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for such things must happen first, but it will not immediately be the end.” Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be powerful earthquakes, famines, and plagues from place to place; and awesome sights and mighty signs will come from the sky.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

------------------------------------------------------------

Saints Andrew Dũng-Lạc and his Companions, Martyrs

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Tuesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

EITHER: 

First Reading

2 Chronicles 24:18-22

Zechariah was stoned to death in the court of the Lord’s temple.

The princes of Judah forsook the temple of the LORD, the God of their fathers, and began to serve the sacred poles and the idols; and because of this crime of theirs, wrath came upon Judah and Jerusalem. Although prophets were sent to them to convert them to the LORD, the people would not listen to their warnings. Then the spirit of God possessed Zechariah, son of Jehoiada the priest. He took his stand above the people and said to them: “God says, ‘Why are you transgressing the LORD’s commands, so that you cannot prosper? Because you have abandoned the LORD, he has abandoned you.’” But the people conspired against him, and at the king’s order they stoned him to death in the court of the LORD’s temple. Thus King Joash was unmindful of the devotion shown him by Jehoiada, Zechariah’s father, and slew his son. And as he was dying, he said, “May the LORD see and avenge.”

OR: --------

First reading 2 Maccabees 6:18, 21, 24-31 I am suffering it with joy in my soul because of my devotion to him.

Eleazar, one of the foremost scribes, a man of advanced age and noble appearance, was being forced to open his mouth to eat pork. Those in charge of that unlawful ritual meal took the man aside privately, because of their long acquaintance with him, and urged him to bring meat of his own providing, such as he could legitimately eat, and to pretend to be eating some of the meat of the sacrifice prescribed by the king.    He told them: “At our age it would be unbecoming to make such a pretense; many young men would think the ninety-year-old Eleazar had gone over to an alien religion. Should I thus pretend for the sake of a brief moment of life, they would be led astray by me, while I would bring shame and dishonor on my old age. Even if, for the time being, I avoid the punishment of men, I shall never, whether alive or dead, escape the hands of the Almighty. Therefore, by manfully giving up my life now, I will prove myself worthy of my old age, and I will leave to the young a noble example of how to die willingly and generously for the revered and holy laws.”    He spoke thus, and went immediately to the instrument of torture. Those who shortly before had been kindly disposed now became hostile toward him because what he had said seemed to them utter madness. When he was about to die under the blows, he groaned and said: “The LORD in his holy knowledge knows full well that, although I could have escaped death, I am not only enduring terrible pain in my body from this scourging, but also suffering it with joy in my soul because of my devotion to him.” This is how he died, leaving in his death a model of courage and an unforgettable example of virtue not only for the young but for the whole nation.

OR: --------

First reading 2 Maccabees 7:1-2, 9-14 We are ready to die rather than transgress the laws of our ancestors.

It happened that seven brothers with their mother were arrested and tortured with whips and scourges by the king, to force them to eat pork in violation of God’s law. One of the brothers, speaking for the others, said: “What do you expect to achieve by questioning us? We are ready to die rather than transgress the laws of our ancestors.”    At the point of death, the second brother said: “You accursed fiend, you are depriving us of this present life, but the King of the world will raise us up to live again forever. It is for his laws that we are dying.”    After him the third suffered their cruel sport. He put out his tongue at once when told to do so, and bravely held out his hands, as he spoke these noble words: “It was from Heaven that I received these; for the sake of his laws I disdain them; from him I hope to receive them again.” Even the king and his attendants marveled at the young man’s courage, because he regarded his sufferings as nothing.    After he had died, they tortured and maltreated the fourth brother in the same way. When he was near death, he said, “It is my choice to die at the hands of men with the hope God gives of being raised up by him; but for you, there will be no resurrection to life.”

OR: --------

First reading 2 Maccabees 7:1, 20-23, 27b-29 This most admirable mother bore it courageously because of her hope in the Lord.

It happened that seven brothers with their mother were arrested and tortured with whips and scourges by the king, to force them to eat pork in violation of God’s law.    Most admirable and worthy of everlasting remembrance was the mother, who saw her seven sons perish in a single day, yet bore it courageously because of her hope in the LORD. Filled with a noble spirit that stirred her womanly heart with manly courage she exhorted each of them in the language of their forefathers with these words: “I do not know how you came into existence in my womb; it was not I who gave you the breath of life, nor was it I who set in order the elements of which each of you is composed. Therefore, since it is the Creator of the universe who shapes each man’s beginning, as he brings about the origin of everything, he, in his mercy, will give you back both breath and life, because you now disregard yourselves for the sake of his law.”    “Son, have pity on me, who carried you in my womb for nine months, nursed you for three years, brought you up, educated and supported you to your present age. I beg you, child, to look at the heavens and the earth and see all that is in them; then you will know that God did not make them out of existing things; and in the same way the human race came into existence. Do not be afraid of this executioner, but be worthy of your brothers and accept death, so that in the time of mercy I may receive you again with them.”

OR: --------

First reading Wisdom 3:1-9 As sacrificial offerings he took them to himself.

The souls of the just are in the hand of God,    and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead;    and their passing away was thought an affliction    and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace. For if before men, indeed, they be punished,    yet is their hope full of immortality; Chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed,    because God tried them    and found them worthy of himself. As gold in the furnace, he proved them,    and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. In the time of their visitation they shall shine,    and shall dart about as sparks through stubble; They shall judge nations and rule over peoples,    and the LORD shall be their King forever. Those who trust in him shall understand truth,    and the faithful shall abide with him in love: Because grace and mercy are with his holy ones,    and his care is with his elect.

OR: --------

First reading Sirach 51:1-8 You redeemed me, true to the greatness of your mercy and of your name.

I  give you thanks, O Lord and King;    I praise you, O God my savior! I will make known your name,    for you have been a helper and a protector to me. You have kept back my body from the pit,    and from the scourge of a slanderous tongue,    from lips that went over to falsehood. And in the sight of those who stood by,    you have delivered me, According to the multitude of the mercy of your name,    and from them that did roar, prepared to devour me, And from the power of those who sought my life;    from many a danger you have saved me,    from flames that hemmed me in on every side; From the midst of unremitting fire when I was not burnt    from the deep belly of the nether world; From deceiving lips and painters of lies,    from the arrows of dishonest tongues. My soul was at the point of death,    my life was nearing the depths of the nether world; They encompassed me on every side, but there was no one to help me,    I looked for one to sustain me, but could find no one. But then I remembered the mercies of the LORD,    his kindness through ages past; For he saves those who take refuge in him,    and rescues them from every evil.

-------- ________

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 31:3cd-4, 6 and 8ab, 16bc and 17

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

Be my rock of refuge,    a stronghold to give me safety. You are my rock and my fortress;    for your name’s sake you will lead and guide me.

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

Into your hands I commend my spirit;    you will redeem me, O LORD, O faithful God. I will rejoice and be glad because of your mercy.

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

Rescue me from the clutches of my enemies and my persecutors, Let your face shine upon your servant;    save me in your kindness.

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

________

Gospel Acclamation Matthew 5:10

Alleluia, alleluia. Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven. Alleluia, alleluia.

Or: John 17:19

Alleluia, alleluia. I consecrate myself for them, so that they also may be consecrated in the truth. Alleluia, alleluia.

Or: 2 Corinthians 1:3b-4a

Alleluia, alleluia. Blessed be the Father of compassion and God of all encouragement, who encourages us in our every affliction. Alleluia, alleluia.

Or: James 1:12

Alleluia, alleluia. Blessed is the man who perseveres in temptation, for when he has been proved he will receive the crown of life. Alleluia, alleluia.

Or: 1 Peter 4:14

Alleluia, alleluia. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, blessed are you, for the Spirit of God rests upon you. Alleluia, alleluia.

Or: see Te Deum

Alleluia, alleluia. We praise you, O God, we acclaim you as Lord; the white-robed army of martyrs praise you. Alleluia, alleluia.

________

EITHER: --------

Gospel Matthew 10:17-22 You will be led before governors and kings for my sake, as a witness before them and the pagans.

Jesus said to his Apostles: “Beware of men, for they will hand you over to courts and scourge you in their synagogues, and you will be led before governors and kings for my sake as a witness before them and the pagans. When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say. You will be given at that moment what you are to say. For it will not be you who speak but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. Brother will hand over brother to death, and the father his child; children will rise up against parents and have them put to death. You will be hated by all because of my name, but whoever endures to the end will be saved.”

OR: --------

Gospel Matthew 10:28-33 Do not be afraid of those who kill the body.

Jesus said to his Apostles: “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna. Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge. Even all the hairs of your head are counted. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father. But whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father.”

OR: --------

Gospel Matthew 10:34-39 I have come to bring not peace but the sword.

Jesus said to his Apostles: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword. For I have come to set

a man ‘against his father,    a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;    and one’s enemies will be those of one’s household.’

“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 9:23-26 Whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.

Jesus said to all, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. What profit is there for one to gain the whole world yet lose or forfeit himself? Whoever is ashamed of me and of my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of when he comes in his glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels.”

OR: --------

Gospel John 12:24-26 If a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it produces much fruit.

Jesus said to his disciples: “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be. The Father will honor whoever serves me.”

OR: --------

Gospel John 15:18-21 If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.

Jesus said to his disciples: “If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you. Remember the word I spoke to you, ‘No slave is greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours. And they will do all these things to you on account of my name, because they do not know the one who sent me.”

OR: --------

Gospel John 17:11b-19 The world hated them.

Lifting his eyes to heaven, Jesus prayed, saying: “Holy Father, keep them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one just as we are one. When I was with them I protected them in your name that you gave me, and I guarded them, and none of them was lost except the son of destruction, in order that the Scripture might be fulfilled. But now I am coming to you. I speak this in the world so that they may share my joy completely. I gave them your word, and the world hated them, because they do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world. I do not ask that you take them out of the world but that you keep them from the Evil One. They do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world. Consecrate them in the truth. Your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I sent them into the world. And I consecrate myself for them, so that they also may be consecrated in truth.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[starbuck]

Choir Music Recs!

As promised, here is my list of choir songs that I recommend to everyone, not just choir folks. It’s definitely highly biased to my personal taste and experience (so much so that I’m organizing it by school year!) so this list is just a tiny fraction of the amazing choir music out there that you can find and listen to on youtube or elsewhere but it’s a good place to start at least!

I’ll be linking one or more recordings that are online free for each song and I’ll also include a little personal blurb with each rec because why not (but feel free to skip those and just listen to the music - I won’t be offended)!

Now, without further ado, here’s the list!!

Freshman year:

There Will Come Soft Rains by Kevin Memley

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, would scarcely know that we were gone.

I’m a little short on recs for freshman year since I was in Select Women’s Choir rather than Chorale but I couldn’t make this list without including this song. This was the first of three pieces I sang in high school that’s an arrangement of a Sara Teasdale poem. Without this, I might not even know about one of my favorite poets! And the music is so beautiful that there’s no better introduction to Sara Teasdale. Fun Fact! I had a “solo note” in this song because all the other Soprano 1′s were afraid to sing a high A (cowards).

Sophomore year:

Jenny by Ryan Kerr and Nick Myers

In the darkness, in the starlight, I hear angels sing your name as they bear you through the heavens to the light from which you came. Quietly the strain falls out of tune. Shadows steal across a lonely moon. I miss you so.

This song was and is of such massive importance to me that I don’t think I could possibly overstate my love for it. The lyrics and arrangement are so gorgeous that Chorale just sort of melted together as we sang it. And we cried. There was a lot of crying. The recording I’m going to link is from one of my high school’s concerts last year because some seniors (who sang this with me when they were freshmen) wanted to sing it one last time and got a small group together to do so. There are possibly “better” recordings out there, but I could never listen to one that isn’t from my school because I know how much love it was sang with there. (Not pictured in the video: me, in the front row at the concert, quietly singing along to the Soprano 1 part.)

My Soul’s Been Anchored in the Lord by Moses Hogan

Do you love him? (Oh yes!) Do you love him? (Hallelujah!) Do you love him? (Oh yes!) God almighty! (Are you anchored?) Are you anchored? (Oh yes!) YES I’m anchored my soul’s been anchored in the Lord!

There are no lyrics I could possibly include that could hope to get across how truly incredible this song is so my advice is to just have a listen - you will not regret it! This was essentially Chorale’s anthem sophomore year; we seriously loved singing this because it was just SO fun! All I regret about high school choir is that we didn’t sing more from Moses Hogan because holy moly are his arrangements amazing!

Sleep by Eric Whitacre

Upon my pillow safe in bed, a thousand pictures fill my head. I cannot sleep my mind’s a’flight and yet my limbs seem made of lead. If there are noises in the night, a frightening shadow, flickering light, then I surrender unto sleep where clouds of dream give second sight.

This is the piece that got little fifteen year-old me to raise my hand during rehearsal and and say “I think this song might be about death” to which my choir director replied something along the lines of “no shit” (but in a nice way because she’s not a mean person lol). This is one of the most beautiful choir songs I’ve ever heard and the quintessential Eric Whitacre piece full of “big smushy chords” and dissonance. If you don’t listen to anything else on this list, listen to this one. Also! the recording I’m linking here is from Voces8 which is a group I highly recommend checking out in general.

Junior year:

I Should Be Glad by Susan LaBarr

I should be glad of loneliness And hours that go on broken wings, A thirsty body, a tired heart And the unchanging ache of things, If I could make a single song As lovely and as full of light, As hushed and brief as a falling star On a winter night.

This is an arrangement of my favorite Sara Teasdale poem, “Compensation,” which I have included the full text of above. When I sang this piece, I, and most of my Choralemates as well, I believe, misconstrued the text to mean “I ought to be glad” rather than its actual meaning, “I would be glad (if...)” which drastically altered our interpretation and made us dislike it quite a bit. Since getting into Teasdale’s work though, I revisited the poem and realized our error. With my reading now correct, I appreciate this arrangement a lot more and I wish I had understood it at the time because it truly is a beautiful work in all ways.

Rytmus by Ivan Hrusovsky

(uhhhh just listen to it lol)

Here’s a fun one! We definitely struggled to get our tempo up on this one because of how challenging the music was to learn but it’s quite the thing to listen to a choir that gets it right.

Only in Sleep by Ēriks Ešenvalds

Only in sleep Time is forgotten— What may have come to them, who can know?

Another Sara Teasdale poem! This one probably made the largest impression on me because Chorale ended up singing it at a funeral so it carried some heavy emotions for us. Another piece that is beautiful in every way.

No Time by Susan Brumfield

Rise, oh fathers rise, let’s go meet ’em in the skies. We will hear the angels singing in that morning. Oh I really do believe that, just before the end of time, we will hear the angels singing in that morning.

I almost gave up on looking for a good recording of this piece on youtube, not because there aren’t a lot to choose from by talented choirs, but because I think there’s a certain amount of awe one has to convey to sing this piece correctly. I sang it with Quartet to open our Spring Concert (which had been transformed into a memorial concert for a beloved teacher who had passed suddenly and also moved from our school to a massive theatre downtown, so you can imagine the kind of pressure we were under). Needless to say, we were terrified, but this piece is also terrifying so it sort of fit and we sang it well. (Note for the video: this choir is absolutely incredible but the person recording goes a bit nuts with the zoom function of their camera so maybe don’t look at the screen as you listen!)

The Storm is Passing Over by Charles Tindley and Barbara Baker

Have courage my soul and let us journey on, though the night is dark and I am far from home. Thanks be to God, the morning light appears.

The sister song to ‘No Time’ at the previously mentioned concert! This was my favorite piece I ever did with Quartet and we often randomly broke into it during rehearsals the next year because we loved it so much. I spoke up about this song during a Quaker meeting I attended at some point because I had an epiphany about the lyrics and it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. Afterwards people told me what I said was good but I think they were just being nice. (Notes: the song begins about one minute into the video I linked and also, check out the full original lyrics by Charles Tindley here - they’re incredible!)

This Marriage by Eric Whitacre

May this marriage be a sign of compassion, a seal of happiness, here and hereafter.

This song is just gorgeous. It’s relatively low-key for an Eric Whitacre piece but its understatedness highlights the beauty of the arrangement. I don’t have to tell you that Rumi was an amazing poet but also I love how the end of this piece just descends into joyful singing without words. When one is out of words to speak, then one must sing.

Loch Lomond by Jonathan Quick

Oh! Ye’ll take the high road, and I’ll take the low road, And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye, But me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.

I’m cheating a bit by including this on the list because I did not personally sing this piece. However, five guys who were in Chorale decided to form a small group and sing this song at both the memorial concert and the funeral so, having heard them sing it a handful of times in such emotional settings, it was special to me as well. (Note for the video: the intro is very goofy and the actual song begins at 1:10 so skip to that! It’s truly a fantastic performance and it sounds very like what my Choralemates did since it’s a quartet.)

Senior year:

Will the Circle Be Unbroken by J. David Moore

I was born down (I was born down) in the valley (in the valley) where the sun refuse to shine (where the sun refuse to shine) but I’m climbing (but I’m climbing) up to the highlands (up to the highlands). Gonna make that mountain mine!

This song was taught to us and directed by our student teacher from the local university. A lot of our student teachers in past years had been awkward and too nervous to truly engage with us but she was the best we ever had. This song was unifying for us and always a delight to sing. The recording I’m linking is from a concert at my school the year after I graduated where they reprised the song and it’s as wonderful as ever.

The Wisdom of the Moon by Susan LaBarr

in the dark of night, let me learn the wisdom of the moon. How it waxes and wanes but does not die, how it gives itself to shadow knowing it will return whole once more.

This was the song that I had the largest and most extensive solo in throughout my entire high school choir experience so it made quite the impression on me. And beyond that, the poem that forms the lyrics is so beautiful. Sometimes I’ll just be minding my business and suddenly think “(God of the two lights) I love the sun” and suddenly I’m singing the whole song to myself. There’s actually a recording of Chorale singing this song with me as the soloist so I’m going to link that version (although there are other wonderful versions out there as well that I encourage you to check out!). Credits to my friend Giovani for the first solo, mine is the second, descant-y one!

Hold On! by Moses Hogan

Nora, Nora let me come in; / de door’s all fastened an’ de winders pinned! 

Just keep yo’ hand on de plow, / an’ you hold on, yes, you just hold on! 

Nora said, “You lost yo’ track, / you can’t plow straight an’ keep a lookin’ back.”

At least we did one other Moses Hogan song while I was in Chorale and this one did NOT disappoint! It’s one of my all-time favorite choir pieces to this day. Further, it caused me to look into the parable being referenced here which led me to this wonderful article that I will never miss an opportunity to plug even though I’m not personally religious! The other day when I decided (for some unknown reason) to clamber up a steep rock face rather than just walking up an easily-accessible path, I got nervous halfway up but was too afraid to try to climb back down so, without even thinking about it, my brain supplied me with the beginning of this song and before I knew it, I was quietly singing to myself “keep on climbin’ an’ don’t you tire, ‘cause ev’ry rung goes higher and higher!” and I made it safely to the top. 

Ubi Caritas by Ola Gjeilo

(it’s in Latin lol)

Not a whole lot to say here other than that no choir recs list is complete without Ola Gjeilo and this piece is beautiful and haunting. 

Unclouded Day by Shawn Kirchner

Oh, they tell me of a home far beyond the skies, they tell me of a home far away, and they tell me of a home where no storm clouds rise, oh, they tell me of an unclouded day.

One of my favorite pieces that I ever did with Chorale, even out of these. It’s so beautiful and uplifting and I think of it every time I step outside and the sky is perfectly blue. Another song that truly just has to be heard to be believed. The recording I’m linking is of the NDSU Concert Choir which has so much amazing choral content on its youtube channel and I highly recommend you check them out further!

I Will Lift Mine Eyes by Jake Runestad

The sun shall not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all evil, He will keep your soul.

Honestly, I’ve blocked out many memories of high school because it was such a truly awful time in my life, so when an old Choralemate of mine posted on her instagram story about how the time when Chorale sat down before singing this song and talked about our emotions and what this text meant to us, I was heartbroken that I didn’t remember it. What I do remember though is that, at our concert, an alumni who had graduated the previous year and had been through a lot of awful stuff sat in the front row and mouthed the words along with us while crying and we all cried while singing it. There was a connection we all made through this piece and, although things were pretty awful a lot of the time, we got through it together and that means a lot to me.

//

Now that the main list is done, here are some pieces I didn’t personally sing but I still love a lot and recommend wholeheartedly:

- I Can Tell the World by Moses Hogan

- Bright Morning Stars by Jay Althouse + bonus link of another version

- Lux Aurumque by Eric Whitacre

- Earth Song by Frank Ticheli

- Famine Song by Matthew Culloton

- The Seal Lullaby by Eric Whitacre

[mrlnsfrt]

Behaving Wisely

David has slain the giant that seemed unbeatable. The Israelite has won a great victory. (for more read The Battle Belongs to the LORD)

Was David lucky?

Is it possible for him to maintain his winning streak?

"So keep the words of this covenant to do them, that you may prosper in all that you do."  -- Deuteronomy 29:9 New American Standard Bible

Let’s continue to read the story of David and see what happens next.

Now when he had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. Saul took him that day, and would not let him go home to his father’s house anymore. Then Jonathan and David made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul. And Jonathan took off the robe that was on him and gave it to David, with his armor, even to his sword and his bow and his belt. - 1 Samuel 18:1-4 NKJV

David and Jonathan have a lot in common. They were both courageous and capable young warriors who had great faith in the Lord. Both had also initiated attacks against the Philistines against terrible odds that lead to great victories for Israel. (Bergen, Robert D. The New American Commentary. Broadman & Holman, 1996. p199) (for more on Jonathan’s victory read A Mighty Minority)

The fact that Jonathan gives David the clothes and weapons originally reserved for the heir to Saul’s throne is worth noting. Especially when you combine it with the fact that David was offered the king’s clothing during the battle (1 Samuel 17:38, see also The Battle Belongs to the LORD) These details are rich in symbolic and thematic significance, we see that David is well on his way to becoming the next king of Israel. Though Saul is king and Jonathan is the crown prince, David’s experiences point to the exceptional future God has in store for him.

At this point, Saul decided to keep David with him and not allow him to go home to his father’s house anymore, and Jonathan also loves David. Things are going well for David he is being honored and elevated by the royal family. David goes wherever Saul sends him and he is successful.

Success

Whatever Saul asked David to do, David did it successfully. So Saul made him a commander over the men of war, an appointment that was welcomed by the people and Saul’s officers alike. - 1 Samuel 18:5 NLT

If you click on 1 Samuel 18:5 it will take you to a page with several different translations and you will notice that some describe David as acting wisely, and some describe him as being successful. So which one is the best translation? Yes. What if the writer meant exactly what he wrote, that David behaved wisely and was successful. Sure in English we have two different words for this idea, but in the Hebrew mind, the two ideas seem to be mingled into one. Behaving wisely is success, prosperity and wisdom are intermingled. Even more interesting is how the same root שָׂכַל (sakal) is found in Deuteronomy 29:9.

Therefore keep the words of this covenant, and do them, that you may prosper in all that you do. - Deuteronomy 29:9 NKJV

Essentially God provided us with the key to success, a strong loving relationship with Him. The covenant was in essence for us to not turn after any other Gods. The 10 commandments give us the core of God’s covenant, those are His plans for our lives, those are His guidelines for us to prosper in all that we do. He gives us success. The 10 commandments in essence protect us from leaving our relationship with God. They keep us from shooting ourselves in the foot. In the story of Saul and David we see one man, Saul, turn from God and lose everything while another man, David, remains faithful to God and gains everything.

This does not mean that obedience buys you immunity or salvation. Those are gifts from God. Life is still tough for David, as we will see, but he keeps succeeding because he always humbles himself before God. This will become clearer as we study the biblical account of the life of David in its entirety. But even here, at the beginning of David’s rise, we see evidence of God’s blessings and of David’s love for God.

What I take away from this is that the way to success will never go against the will of God for my life as expressed in the 10 commandments. If I am being pressured to go against God’s expressed will it will not lead to success, but rather to failure. Also, it is important to define success here as the ultimate success in life, not just the acquisition of money or power or both. Money and power can be a curse in the life of those who have sacrificed their relationship with God for the things this world has to offer.

Challenges that follow success

Sometimes a quiet meaningful life is more enjoyable than a life of fame and power. When the armies returned victorious from the battle the women were singing about the heroes and their victories. They sang about how “Saul had slain his thousands,” this was nice, Saul liked listening to this. We don’t have a record of the whole song, we also have no idea what the melody was like. However, we do have the record of one more line from this song and it went like this: “And David [has slain] his ten thousands.” (1 Samuel 18:7)

It’s fine to be wise, to be successful, but being more successful than the king is bad for your health.

Saul notices that David is well on his way to becoming king. He is popular with the people and the court. Surely Saul was reminded of the words of Samuel found in 1 Samuel 15:28.

So Samuel said to him, “The Lord has torn the kingdom of Israel from you today, and has given it to a neighbor of yours, who is better than you. - 1 Samuel 15:28 NKJV

I believe this is why the story continues in this way

Then Saul was very angry, and the saying displeased him; and he said, “They have ascribed to David ten thousands, and to me they have ascribed only thousands. Now what more can he have but the kingdom?” So Saul eyed David from that day forward. - 1 Samuel 18:8-9 NKJV

Saul eyed David

From this point on Saul sees David as a threat. 1 Samuel 18:9 (link to different translations) is a bit awkward to translate to English but when you read the different ways its translated you get the idea of what it means to “eye” someone or to be “eyed” by someone. Saul was watching David closely, looking for an opportunity to rid himself of this threat.

David meanwhile, continues to serve king Saul faithfully. When Saul was being tormented by a distressing spirit and David came to play for him Saul threw a spear at David, twice (1 Samuel 18:11)! This means that David came back to play the hard a second time after Saul had tried to kill him! This shows that David was faithful and willing to help Saul even if it meant putting his life on the line. This also shows that music is not a sure-fire way to deal with people struggling with evil spirits. (for more on that checkout Mental Health, Music and the Bible) It is also worth noting that Saul being armed with a spear against David associates him with Goliath (1 Samuel 17:7) not to mention that Saul was also very tall (1 Samuel 9:1-2).

Fear

Although Saul a powerful king and is armed with a spear, he is afraid of David who is an unarmed nobody.

Now Saul was afraid of David, because the Lord was with him, but had departed from Saul. Therefore Saul removed him from his presence, and made him his captain over a thousand; and he went out and came in before the people. And David behaved wisely in all his ways, and the Lord was with him. Therefore, when Saul saw that he behaved very wisely, he was afraid of him. But all Israel and Judah loved David, because he went out and came in before them. - 1 Samuel 18:12-16 NKJV (bold mine)

David continues to have success. David behaves wisely and prospers in everything he does (Deuteronomy 29:9). Saul is afraid because he realizes that the LORD was with David. Just as Goliath was unable to destroy David, Saul too realizes he is no match for him. Saul decides to change tactics.

Royal Wedding!

Saul realized he would not be able to kill David with his own hands, or at least he realized he shouldn’t since David was becoming so popular. Saul decided to let his enemies take care of David.

Then Saul said to David, “Here is my older daughter Merab; I will give her to you as a wife. Only be valiant for me, and fight the Lord’s battles.” For Saul thought, “Let my hand not be against him, but let the hand of the Philistines be against him.” - 1 Samuel 18:17 NKJV

Saul figured the more often David was involved in battles against the philistines the greater the chances of him dying in battle. That way David can die a hero at the hand of the Philistines and Saul can be rid of a “problem.” David agreed to fight the LORD’s battles. David would likely have agreed to fight even if there wasn’t the promise of marriage to the princess. This could also have been interpreted as taking the place of the dowry, like when Jacob offered to work as a way of paying the price for his wife (Genesis 29:15-19 for more read Rules of Engagement).

However, when it came time to it, Saul gave his oldest daughter to someone else. Maybe he feared giving David even more power and influence seeing he refused to die. Saul should have given David his daughter because David killed Goliath ( 1 Samuel 17:25), but Saul keeps adding details and clauses to the fine print of his promises.

Now Michal, Saul’s daughter, loved David. And they told Saul, and the thing pleased him. So Saul said, “I will give her to him, that she may be a snare to him, and that the hand of the Philistines may be against him.” Therefore Saul said to David a second time, “You shall be my son-in-law today.” - 1 Samuel 18:20-21 NKJV

David is incredibly humble. This could be due to Saul being king and having come from a wealthy family. David however was the youngest son in his family, he was a bumble shepherd and his genealogy was not pure, since one of his ancestors had been a Moabite (Ruth 4:13-17).

It is interesting to notice the word choice of Saul here. Michal was to be a “snare” to David. This same word is used in the Torah to describe the dangers of idols and idol worshipers (Exodus 23:33;34:12; Deuteronomy 7:16) Perhaps Saul was aware of his daughter’s idolatrous inclinations ( 1 Samuel 19:13) and how if she could lead David astray then he would surely fall at the hand of the Philistines.

Similarly to how David had heard by word of mouth about the rewards offered to whoever killed Goliath, David now heard that Saul was willing to make him his son-in-law. Saul asks for 100 Philistine foreskins as a way of taking vengeance on the enemies of Saul. David is so willing that he gets Saul 200 foreskins. Saul then has no option but to give David his daughter.

Now David was part of the royal family, even closer to the throne. Saul became even more afraid of David and decided to be his enemy continually. But David continues to prosper.

Then the princes of the Philistines went out to war. And so it was, whenever they went out, that David behaved more wisely than all the servants of Saul, so that his name became highly esteemed. - 1 Samuel 18:29 NKJV (bold mine)

David is faithful to God, God is with him, granting him wisdom and success. For me, the lesson is clear, be faithful to God, receive His wisdom, and prosper, regardless of who is against you.

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, And the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding. - Proverbs 9:10 NKJV

If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. - James 1:5 NKJV

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 031 [Finals Begin!]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,786

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〈“Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold. But you will remember me, remember me for centuries. And just one mistake is all it will take, we’ll go down in history.” Fall Out Boy, “Centuries”〉

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“Do you see him, kid?” I asked, holding his ankles in my hands.

Riku was sitting on my shoulders so he could look over the crowd. He crossed his arms, resting them on the top of my head. “Nope. There’s Mt. Lady, but my brother isn’t anywhere around. Where is that idiot?”

I hummed, approaching the blonde-haired hero. “Let’s gather some clues.”

“Like Scooby-Doo!” I could hear the smile in his voice and chuckled.

She noticed us approaching and lifted her chin, hand on her hip. “Did you finally come to apologize?”

“Not even on your life,” I deadpanned. “Oi, Riku.”

“Right! Have you see a teenage boy that’s really desperate for your attention?”

If I wasn’t holding his ankles to keep him from falling, I would have facepalmed.

She sweatdropped. “There’s a lot of those, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“Umm, well, he’s eighteen-years-old, never had a girlfriend that isn’t an anime character, got rejected from two different colleges, he’s a huge pervert with a large stack of dirty magazines under his bed and his favorite color on a girl is pink! Does that help?”

My eye twitched. Really starting to remember why I don’t fuck with little kids… I cleared my throat. “Maybe start with his name…”

“Yuki Reigen.”

“Okay. Now, what does he look like?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “He’s kinda short for his age and he dyes his hair blonde, but he’s really bad at it so it’s super streaky. He wears blue contacts but his eyes are actually brown like mine! His skin is kinda oily, especially his nose, even though he uses this weird smelling cream. He thinks it works but it doesn’t at all!”

Mt. Lady tilted her head, her finger on her chin. Her face suddenly lit up with recognition. “Oh yeah! He was so desperate for my number, he said he’d do anything for it, it was honestly pathetic. I was just about to tell him he could have it after being my slave for two years, but then he suddenly panicked and ran off.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?�� I asked.

“Yeah, you’re a creepy old hag!” Riku added. “My brother will never be a slave to someone as ugly as you!”

“What did you just call me, you brat?!”

“Mt. Lady!” Woodsman came speed-walking up, putting his wooden arm between us before she could advance. “You’re supposed to be patrolling!”

Riku started to shake, his fingers curling around my short hair as he sniffled. “S-She’s so s-scary! She threatened to h-hit me!” His crying alerted the other people around us, who stopped to see what was going on. Hearing his words made a few of them glare at her, clutching their children closer.

The color drained from her face and she hastily tried to explain the situation. “W-What? No, I -”

Woodsman put his hands on his hips, glaring at her. “You made this child cry, now say you’re sorry!”

“But I didn’t -”

Riku started to cry louder.

“O-Okay! I’m sorry, just stop crying!”

His cries died down to soft sniffles. I swear if he gets snot in my fucking hair I’mma rage.

Woodsman turned to us with a sigh. “I’m really sorry about her, she has no filter. You really should be getting back, the finals will be starting soon.”

“I can’t.” I motioned toward the kid shoving his face onto my head. “He can’t find his brother and I’m trying to help find him.”

“Oh, I see. Here, let me take over.” He held his hands out and I bent down so he could gently grab Riku under the arms, lifting him up and over my head before bringing him into his arms. “Don’t worry, I promise I’ll find his brother.”

I nodded, ruffling Riku’s hair. “Don’t leave that idiot brother of yours again, okay? And no more jumping from the stands.”

He nodded, wiping at his wet eyes with the back of his hand. “Thank you, big sis.”

Woodsman nodded his head at me before walking away, Riku leaning over his shoulder. His sad expression morphed to a smug grin, all traces of his tears gone.

I exchanged a look with Mt. Lady and I knew we were thinking the same thing – children are fucking demons.

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“Thank you, Cementoss! Hey, sports fans, are you ready?! After all the action you’ve already witnessed, it’s time for the real battle to begin! Can you feel the excitement?! Our competitors are on their own now! Sometimes heroes have only themselves to rely on! Heart, skill, strength, wisdom, courage – they’ll have to use all of these things to rise to the top!”

A bead of sweat rolled down my cheek as I took a deep breath. Why the fuck do I have to go first? Man, there’s gonna be so many fuckers watching me. Just the thought makes me want to die. Maybe I’ll just forfeit…

Strong hands landed on my shoulders. “You’re pretty tense, kid. Nervous?”

I turned around to face Snipe and Toshi. “I’m always tense, it’s a way of life.”

“Don’t worry, young Jen, you’ll do great.” Toshi gave me a thumbs up and a grin. “You fought against young Reggian a bit in the cavalry battle so you know a bit about his quirk already.”

“Somethin’ to do with air, I think?” I scratched my cheek.

“Just don’t kill ’em and you’ll be just fine,” Snipe put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into a half hug. “We’ll be rootin’ for ya, kid.”

“Thanks, guys.” I grinned.

“Well, well, audience, let’s cut to the good stuff and not delay these finals any longer! Welcome our first fighters – with a potty mouth and an attitude to match, it’s Jen Winchester from the hero course!”

I stepped through the doorway, hands shoved into my pockets. My eyes squinted as the sudden bright light invading my vision. The crowd was screaming, but I did my best not to pay them any mind as I approached the arena.

“Versus! His sanity is seriously up for debate, it’s Regina Reggian from general studies!”

“Hey, I’m lucid sometimes, twatwaffle!”

“What did he just call me?!”

“A twatwaffle.”

“Don’t ever say that again, Eraser…”

I rolled my eyes before glancing across to the other doorway where Regina was exiting from, looking smug. Man, this guy really has a face I just wanna punch. With a fucking metal chair.

“The rules are simple – immobilize your opponent or force them out of the ring! You can also win by getting the other person to cry uncle! Bring on the injuries because we’ve got our very own Recovery Girl waiting on standby! So put your morals aside and don’t be afraid to play dirty, but of course, no life-threatening crap, folks, it’s not allowed! Real heroes use their powers to throw villains in jail, not kill them!”

“I’ll stop anyone that tries to get too rough,” Cementoss said calmly. He was sitting beside the ring, directly centered with it in a chair he had made with his quirk.

I scratched my cheek. Call me old-fashioned but should they really be encouraging teenagers to beat the ever-living shit out of each other? Sounds fucking suspect.

Regina grinned at me. “I’m gonna force you to give up, nerd!”

“Not even in your dreams, kid.” I grinned back. “Be careful, you don’t wanna get burnt.”

“Ready?!”

“You’re a magician’s red burnin’ chicken looking ass.”

“What the fuck does that even mean? Your taste sound like ass. I’m gonna fucking annihilate you like Kunimitsu Tezuka did to the dinosaurs.”

“Nani the fuck?”

“BEGIN!”

We both took our stances. He held his hands out like he were gripping a sword and the air around him started to solidify, forcing the hilt of a sword. The blade started to form… is that a fucking cactus? “Hey! This is my cactus and his name is Pablo!”

I sweatdropped. What is with this guy? “Oi -” I suddenly gagged as something solidified in my mouth. It tasted like if you took Kirishima’s dirty gym socks, wiped your ass with it, and then pureed it with rotten onions. My stomach turned as I spit it out, coughing violently as I tried to ignore the taste on my tongue. Is that… a mother fucking sock?!

“Winchester just spit up a sock! What is this sorcery we’re seeing, folks?!”

“Take this!” Taking advantage of the distracted he had created, he moved in close, swinging the sword above his head. My hand shot up, connecting with the translucent spikes of the cactus. They broke the skin, small drops of blood flowing from the holes.

“Reggian has successfully launched the first attack! How will Winchester respond?!”

“Am I a fucking joke to you?”

“No, you’re a nerd.”

“Hmph, can’t argue with that one, but you’re gonna have to die now, thanks!” I squeezed my hand, increasing the temperature of my skin until the cactus exploded. My hand was throbbing.

“PABLO, NO!!!”

I punched him in the stomach, sending him stumbling backward, clutching his stomach and coughing.

“You’ll pay… for killing Pablo… you thot!” He held his hand up and the air started to solidify. “Improvised special move, Pablo Jr!!” He threw the small, potted cactus at me and I grunted, smacking it away. As soon as my hand touched it, it exploded.

“It’s hard to see but if you look closely you can see a bunch of translucent spikes now stuck in Winchester’s body from that last attack!”

“Son of a bitch,” I grunted. He lifted his hands again and I dashed forward. I won’t even give him the chance to – smack. I fell face-first on the ground, the cold cement seeping through my clothes.

Silence fell over the stadium before a roar of laughter erupted.

“Oh my god!”

“Did you see her face?!”

“I’m so glad I came, this is hilarious!”

“What a classic move!!”

“I’m wheezing, someone help!”

“Ahahahaha! Class 1-A isn’t looking so cool now, is it?!”

“Shut up, Monoma!”

“No one can get past my second improvised special move – Banana Peel Field!!” Regina laughed loudly.

“I can’t believe it! In all my years, this is the first time I’ve ever seen anyone slip on a banana peel during the sports festival! This is great!!”

I slowly lifted my head, my teeth clenched in annoyance. I fucking slipped on a mother fucking banana peel made of goddamn air. This fucking brat is toying with me and it’s pissing me off. I pulled myself to my feet, my blood boiling as flames engulfed my hands. I thrust them out to the side and lines of fire shot out in all directions, swirling around the arena.

I clenched my fists, grinning when he took a step back. “I’m not gonna give you the chance to give up, but don’t worry bro, I will give you the chance to die!” I slammed both fists against the ground, the concrete splitting as fire snaked through it directly toward him.

“Ah, shit -”

The flames shot up from the ground, hitting him in the gut and lifting him off his feet. I teleported behind him, pulling my leg back before slamming my shin against his back and into the cement. He coughed, doing a somersault to avoid my boot. He breathed heavily, lifting his hands again, but I didn’t give him the chance, teleporting behind him again. Pain shot through my skull and I knew I needed to end it soon.

The flames raged on my arm as I cocked my arm, bringing my fist against his face. He flew backward and I stomped my foot, sending a wave of flame to propel him farther. It smacked into him like a spout of water, forcing his body out of bounds and pinning it against the wall. His eyes rolled back in his head as he lost consciousness, the flames dying out. The air spikes in my body disappeared.

“Reggian is out of bounds!” Midnight raised her hand, the metal cuff clanking from the movement. “Winchester advances to the next round!”

“Woah, that chick is kinda scary, don’t you think?”

“She told him to die!”

“That’s not a very heroic thing to say…”

“Reggian did really well!”

“He’s hilarious! Imagine having him as a sidekick.”

“Right? There’d never be a dull moment!”

“His power is pretty unique, too. If you think about it, the uses for his quirk are pretty limitless.”

“Right? Fire’s a pretty basic quirk, no creativity there.”

My eyes narrowed at my hand, watching the blood drip to the cement.

“Go see Recovery Girl.” Midnight ordered.

“Yeah, whateva.”

“And with that explosive display, we have the first victor of the finals! Class 1-A’s Jen Winchester! Ah yeah~ that was a pretty amusing first fight, kids! Both of you fought bravely, let’s show them some love!!”

I won the fucking match, but I feel like a fucking loser. I shoved my hands into my pockets as I approached the dark hallway. I wanna go home.

“Hey, big sis!”

I glanced up at Riku’s voice. He was leaning over the railing again, waving his hand like crazy. A taller boy stood behind him, gripping the back of his shirt to keep him in place. That must be his older brother. Good, I’m glad the Woodsman was able to find him.

“You were so cool out there! Your power is uber strong!” he grinned brightly, closing his eyes. “I wanna be just like you when I grow up!”

My heart skipped a beat as warmth flooded me, my lips twitching up as I released a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. Thanks, kid… I needed that.

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“Gimme some sugar~” Gran pressed her lips to my cheek and patted my bandaged hand. “There, all better, deary.”

“Thanks, Gran.”

“Why the glum face? You won, after all.”

I sighed, falling back onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I mean, I know I won the fight, but he won over the crowd. They totally hated me.”

She hummed. “There will always be times when people prefer one quirk over another. Don’t let it get you down, deary. You’ll always be number one in my heart.”

I smiled, turning onto my side and propping my cheek up against my palm. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course you may.”

“What does it mean… to be a hero?”

She sent me a surprised look before humming, her hand on her chin. “Well, everyone views it quite differently. At its very core, a hero is someone that wants to help others, but everyone has their own reasons, their own desires, to become a hero.”

“But I don’t,” I frowned, picking at the white sheet beneath me. “I don’t have that drive. I’ve thought about it a bunch of times, but I can’t think of a reason to fight. Besides… if people find out who my mother is, won’t that make them hate me, anyway? Bakugo told me not to tell anyone. He was dead serious about it. She was an A-Class villain turned pro hero. No one trusted her…”

Gran set her small hand over mine, her voice warm. “That may be true, but you are not your mother, deary. You’re your own person and if they view you differently, well, that’s their loss. No matter what happens in the future, you will always have a place here at U.A.”

My fingers wrapped around her hand. “Do you think… I’ll find a reason to be a hero?”

“I do, but you must remember that you grew up in a world where heroes are nothing more than fiction. It makes sense that you have no desire to be a hero because you grew up believing that such a dream simply wasn’t possible. I believe that, with time, you’ll find your reason to keep fighting. You just have to have some patience. These things can’t be rushed.”

I chuckled. “Patience has never been my strong suit. When I was a kid, the loading screen for my new game was taking too long so I kicked the TV.”

She laughed, patting my hand. “Yes, well, you are still young, deary.”

I glanced at Regina, who was unconscious on the bed across the room. “He gonna be okay?”

“He’ll be just fine. I’ve healed his wounds, now he just needs to recover his stamina. No need to worry.”

“Che, as if I’d worry about that idiot.” I rolled over onto my back, folding my hands behind my head. “Can I rest here for a bit?”

“Of course, deary.”

“Thanks, Gran.”

She pressed a kiss to my cheek before returning to her work, leaving me to mull over her words.

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[pwolfministries]

God’s Vision Through Mothers

by Maddie Knudtson

Each year, Mother's Day specifically celebrates influential women. Even if the relationship isn't biological, there's something to be said for the feminine care and nurturing we've received in our lives. The way that God uses mothers is key to the endurance of life -- through their faith, the will of the Lord prevails through generations. And, in return, faithful mothers receive heaps of blessings.  

One mother from the Bible that I've been thinking about is Jochebed, Moses's mom. Her story is less renowned than her son's, and yet without her we lose an entire future, history that otherwise drops off into nowhere. Jochebed's fear of God outweighs any mortal fear of Pharaoh, keeping her baby alive and hidden for months. That deception of local authority would take courage. Just like concealing fire, it's only a matter of time before someone smells smoke and locates the flame.

Exodus 2:1-4: 1 Now a man of the tribe of Levi married a Levite woman, 2 and she became pregnant and gave birth to a son. When she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him for three months. 3 But when she could hide him no longer, she got a papyrus basket for him and coated it with tar and pitch. Then she placed the child in it and put it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile. 4 His sister stood at a distance to see what would happen to him.

After the limits of her protection were reached, Jochebed didn't give up hope. She used the rest of her available resources in order to provide for Moses, giving all she could before placing him in that basket. It must have been agonizing to let go. But that didn't stop her from living out her faith, trusting fully in God when she could do no more. Because this one mother gave up control, not only did Moses survive to lead their nation, she received a blessing back to her: more time with Moses.

Exodus 2:5-10: 5 Then Pharaoh's daughter went down to the Nile to bathe, and her attendants were walking along the riverbank. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her female slave to get it. 6 She opened it and saw the baby. He was crying, and she felt sorry for him. "This is one of the Hebrew babies," she said. 7 Then his sister asked Pharaoh's daughter, "Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?" 8 "Yes, go," she answered. So the girl went and got the baby's mother. 9 Pharaoh's daughter said to her, "Take this baby and nurse him for me, and I will pay you." So the woman took the baby and nursed him. 10 When the child grew older, she took him to Pharaoh's daughter and he became her son. She named him Moses, saying, "I drew him out of the water."

After proving Himself greater than a death order and risky separation, God continues to work good for mother and son. This may be a story of an individual blessing, but it also displays an eternal promise to those who let go of the reigns: God has a plan, He can and will make a way, and He does not forget along the way. Because Jochebed remained obedient to God, she received the worldly gifts of time and safety. That's incredible! It should encourage us that God does not neglect those who give life and strive to provide. 

Unfortunately, if we focus on what's coming with Moses rather than what is here received, her story is easy to brush past. But isn't that the way it can be with mothers? I've spent years of my life taking for granted all the times my own mom cooked for me, cleaned up after me, and carted me around to all my activities. No effective mother has glory in mind. Just like the image of the wife of noble character from Proverbs 31:10-31, motherhood requires everything from humble diligence to smart business, faithful wisdom to fear of the Lord. Before God could ever use Moses, He worked through Jochebed -- her relationship with God creates the base for all subsequent endeavors. 

Out of the oppression found in the beginning of Exodus comes a mother. Out of that mother rises hope and direction. Before celebrating the achievements enacted through Moses, we must look towards Jochebed, a woman who proves that a faith-led household can turn the tides of nations.  

-Maddie

[lupusxdei-a]

self para: melodies and desires | greed x pestilence

The pristine whiteness of the leisure salon at Vonpha's palace created a unique trick on the eyes, making the interior seem as though it stretched far and wide ad infinitum, rendering the senses of any creature on the low tiers of the great chain of being useless. Tall, ornate pillars stood at each corner of the interior, a pallid shade of beige that helped the eyes gather some orientation if said eyes chose to wonder about. The window were enormous, their frames woven with a rare material humanity would call gold, though there were thick curtains covering each, thus successfully hiding the world from the visitors inside. The only substance of colour that existed in the salon could be found in what should have been the north side of the salon, where one could find a long and heavy, rectangular wooden table that offered a great variety of fruits, vegetables, meats and drinks, the kinds the Earth would never get to taste. At each far end of the table (one may even consider it the precursor of buffets) stood a ceremoniously-clad servant - at the west end was a once-mortal-turned-demon soul, a man who could not have been older than twenty five or six when he expired on Earth, with locks of pallid honey and eyes as green as pines, his posture uncompromising, body as tense as a bow and arrow ready to shoot at the most whimsical command of the host and his mistress, and with a gaze focused somewhere beyond; at the east end was a female, a banshee, with eyes like endless pools of ink, her distorted face barely hidden away by the wild strands of gossamer-like silver hair; she too possessed the kind of tenseness in her body that did not allow her to make a single movement until it was approved by her mistress.

In the center of the stage, there were two white ottomans, one across the other, the space between them filled with a small table holding a chess board and two glasses filled with mead. On one of the sofas sat Vonpha, Wrath or Vonnie as her friends (and some siblings, those she liked, that is) called her - her long white hair had been brushed back and then clipped with golden jewelry, the shade only matching the one found in her black-and-gold eyes that were focused on the board, and she wore her favourite dress, a profound shade of iris, following the lines of her curves tastefully enough to inspire guilt in anyone who would dare fantasize about the demonarch - and on the other sofa sat Pestilence, in her usual fashion - blonde hair falling wild over her back and shoulder, eyes, like glaciers, watching the demonarch as she waited for her friend's next move, clad in a dress of a far more subtle shade of pale, icy blue. The two had been continuing a game that had been interrupted the last time they played it...about...a decade ago? Perhaps that much time had passed on Earth, but Beyond, time worked differently, didn't it? Pestilence could not calculate how long it had been, and it certainly did not feel long.

A mere moment before Vonpha moved her piece, there was a ritualistic knocking on the heavy, golden-imbued door. After that, there was a dull sound of it opening: in come a pair of guards, heads held high, eyes never meeting the two women, as they announced the unexpected visit of Crown Prince Devorare. "Huh," Vonpha, who had been leaning back against the ottoman's single arm rest, shifted from her position. "My, my. It appears I'll get to introduce the two of you sooner than I'd expected." It had been years upon years since the last War (thus far), and therefore, years since Pestilence had seen Greed for the first time. What had Vonpha told her long before that? My dear Pestilence, you’d be delighted if you met my brother. I know I’ve had the liberty to speak with you as with a closest friend, and I know that I’ve rarely said anything flattering about any one of those spoiled rodents, but, and I’m saying this only because he cannot hear me, if there is anyone who will ever crawl out of whatever pit you throw him in, anyone that will laugh in everyone’s faces, it will be my dearest, younger brother. As she recalled Greed, after the battle, his chest falling and rising heavy with exhilaration and madness, Pestilence felt her heart squeeze tight and then as it let go, ice began to spread throughout her body and spirit - she was excited, she realized, though she promptly pushed the intrusive idea away. How scandalous! What was she supposed to be excited about? He was but a child, and he was a demon, and her world would never mix with his. As the two of them rose, to soon greet the visitor, Pestilence found nervously smoothing down the wrinkles of her skirt.

When she turned around, Pestilence was holding her breath, ears perking to the reverberating click-clacking of his boots against the smooth surface of the flooring. While Pestilence remained frozen, Vonpha moved, of course, freely, walking over to greet her younger brother. "I wasn't expecting you today. Or any time soon."

"I prefer the element of surprise," Greed had responded as he took his older sister's hand and gently pressed it, in the usual tradition of their culture, against his forehead in greeting. When he spoke, the sound of it echoed through even the darkest, farthest corners of Pestilence's mind and she inhaled a silent, long breath. It was, though she was unwilling to accept it, the most beautiful melody she could hope to hear in Hell (or beyond). His voice, much like Devorare himself, dripped like honey and soothed the soul with its idiosyncratic combination of shallow tenderness and piercing depth. There was a sharp contrast, she noted, while observing the two demonarchs from her distance: the Greed she'd seen on the field and today, while emanating with the same overwhelming energy, seemed to be two different people. Today, there was such a boyish playfulness in his intonation, in the way he moved around and away from his sister, the way his body was removed from any idea of tenseness and formality, that Pestilence found herself unable to determine which Greed she preferred. Preferred? Scandalous yet again, a voice in her head told her.

"Well, how splendid because I have a guest I'd like you to formally meet," Vonpha said, turning to guide Greed towards her friend and, seeing that, Pestilence took it as a cue to move towards them, though her legs were not her own. Something else had taken over her body and, without being aware of it, she kept her gaze fixed on Greed, rather than Wrath, as the distance between them closed further. "I know the two of you...know of one another, but, Pestilence, this is my brother." Vonpha said and then looked back at her brother. "Greed, this is Pestilence."

When Greed stepped towards her, Pestilence felt her body tense again, and she swallowed thickly as she offered her hand to the Prince. "Ma'am," his mouth lopsided into a smirk. Instead of greeting her the way all demons of his rank greeted others of a similar position, Greed wrapped his burning hand around hers and brought it up towards his lips, his golden eyes peering into hers, pressing the sweetest, most delicate kiss on her cold knuckles. There was a reflex in her hand, an involuntary twitch right before her skin met his mouth, but when she felt his lukewarm flesh against her hand, Pestilence shuddered while offering the demonarch a short, small curtsy. Finally, she was able to break free from his gaze. She looked down, to the side, and said, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Was it though? Now that they were mere inched from one another, his soul undoubtedly, and shamelessly, called onto hers and hers was nearly pulled in; they were like magnets and she struggled to resist the pulling force. She would burn, Pestilence thought, if she gave into him.

"I'm frankly a bit offended," after letting go of her hand, Greed turned to his sister. "I thought I was your favourite brother, and yet I received no invitation to this little party of yours."

Vonpha snorted as she walked over to the table herself to fetch another glass. "I'm otherwise doomed to an existence with all of you. You'll forgive me for wanting to take a breather."

Greed clicked his tongue and walked over to the ottoman - Pestilence could not be sure, but as he brushed his arm against her shoulder, she thought he had done that by no accident, the touch of his body causing her body to break into irrational goosebumps - sitting down where his sister had previously been making herself comfortable. "You know I'm nowhere near as bad as, say, Sloth or Grudge so I'm going to expect an apology, or an actual envelope next time."

Vonpha returned and when she did, Pestilence finally mustered the courage to return to her seat. She noted that Greed had moved his sister's figurine - how he knew which move had been her last was up to gods to comprehend - but she said nothing. The rest of their time together was spent in playful back and forths between the siblings, while the Horseman struggled to focus. She was not a completely useless interlocutor, her pearls of wisdom and comedy well received especially by Greed, though she felt so weightless, so listless in his presence, that, if she ever tried to recall that day in perfect detail, she would fail at it miserably from then on. All that she would end up remembering was the way his eyes lit up with mischief when he laughed, the way his plush lips smirked whenever he was being talked back at, the way his eyes stole secret, intense glances at her, his teasing remarks and the "accidental" brushes of his hand against hers whenever he "accidentally" reached for the food at the same time as she did, and she would relive those moments in her memory, especially late at night before sleep, for the decades to come.

***

The cold but sultry, evening breeze that washed over while she was waiting for her horse to be walked over to her at the gates of Wrath's palace. It was only then, after she had bid adieu to the two demonarchs, when she was alone that she could breathe, that she could appease her heart and soothe the frenzy Greed had ignited in her soul. She filled her lungs to the brim with the wind, bringing her thoughts to a calm, though her peace was short lived. "I used to think the horse was metaphorical." She opened her eyes and looked first at the beautiful dark-eyed animal, and then at Greed standing beside her. It was the first time the two had ever been left alone; however, it was nowhere near as high-strung as Pestilence would expect it to be. She heard a nocturnal bird calling from somewhere, but the sound was silenced out by her drumming heart. For the first time, she gave Greed a genuine smile as she observed him.

“Not entirely,” she replied. When the horse was brought to her, it had, of course, been saddled and ready for her to climb, though she couldn’t move quite yet, that same magnetic pull disabling her from doing a thing at the time.

“She’s beautiful,” Greed said, though his eyes were so stubbornly locked on Pestilence that she was unsure if he had meant the animal, or her.

“She is.” And what did Pestilence mean by that? Her tone mimicked his ambiguity, and it drew a warmer smile, one that lit up the eyes, from Greed.

“You’re leaving too soon,” he said, and when she moved, he moved. She felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up when he followed behind her, though no sooner did he move in front of her, ready to prop her up on the horse.

She looked down at his hands, then into his eyes, before accepting this chivalrous alternative and allowing her to prop her up, Pestilence straddling her animal with as much elegance and grace as one so intimately and emotionally bewitched as she was could do. “I’ll see you in the battlefront again,” she said while looking down at Greed.

He smirked again, gingerly stroking the side of the horse’s neck. “Perhaps even sooner, Pesty.”

She huffed, the newly-received nickname not one she was going to immediately accept with open arms. “Maybe,” she murmured before prompting the horse, the animal taking her away from Wrath’s residence, though Greed’s eyes, fixed on her back, felt as heavy as the world as further distance was put between them.

[the-first-date]

A conversation with Madison Leigh Mumma [22/NB/Cincinnati]

Madge Maril: Hello! How are you today? 

Madison Leigh Mumma: Hi! I'm great, how are you?

MM: Doing OK! For those that don't know you (and your work), can you tell us about yourself? 

MLM: Sure! I live in Cincy, just graduated with a BFA, and for the most part consider myself an artist. I recently realized that I actually have no desire to go back to school so now I'm just working in coffee and saving up money to move. Oh, also, my pronouns are they/them! And I'm a Pisces!

MM: Oo, were you planning on going back to school before? And move where?

MLM: Yeah, I was dead set on going into critical theory and getting a PhD, but it took a break from academia for me to realize that it exhausts me way too much to be healthy. I'm thinking east coast, maybe Providence or Hadley?? 

MM: Well I don't know what critical theory is and I don't know where Hadley is but I have heard of Providence! 

MLM: It's very broad! I think I was mostly attracted to the idea of arguing and criticizing for a living.

MM: Pisces!!! 

MLM: EXACTLY.

MM: I love it. 

MLM: With an Aries fuckin moon, lmao. Constant combat.

MM: WOW. Rising?

MLM: Also Pisces!! Pisces Sun, Rising, Mercury, and Venus.

MM: Omg, that's so intense — what's it like for you?

MLM: Like you said — VERY intense. I'm either 0% or 100% and that can be... a lot. But I think it's exciting to feel everything as much as possible, too!

MM: Said like a true blue pisces. OK so seamless transition: What do you wear on the first date? And follow up: Do you think it's reflective of your sign?

MLM: I usually wear a lot of black and let my accessories do the talking — so on a first date I'd probably wear a trusty black velvet shirt, high-waisted skinny jeans with a cool belt, and Docs. I'm very superstitious and a heavy believer in luck so I'd be wearing aquamarine and maybe some red jasper, dagger earrings, and a pin or two. I think that makes sense as a Pisces — I have a solid base but otherwise can be pretty fluid.

MM: What do aquamarine and red jasper have to do with luck?

MLM: Aquamarine symbolizes courage, protection, and is meant to enhance communication (and it's my birthstone!). Red Jasper is the stone of ~empowerment~, I actually started wearing it because a friend told me it reminded them of my "fighting spirit.”

MM: That's so interesting. And I've seen your dagger earrings on IG before I think! Where did you get them, and what do they mean to you? 

MLM: My friend gave them to me as a gift! I like that they're elegant but still a little spicy. They feel like they go with the jasper in that respect — like there’s beauty in self-protection and putting yourself first.

MM: Completely agree. And it goes with the black outfit, too. Why a black shirt?

MLM: Black seems very secure and calm to me, plus it's always flattering and the velvet elevates just a liiiitle above a T-shirt.

MM: There's a lot of emotion in your outfit. What are you typically feeling on a date, if you can make it generic?

MLM: I have to be fairly comfortable talking to somebody before I go on a date with them, and I'm very selective about who I spend my time with. So at that point I'm usually really excited to see if there’s any **spark**.

MM: That's so opposite from me lol. When I'm single, I just like to go out and ~experience. 

MLM: Ahh sometimes I really wish I could do that! I mean, I COULD but I think it goes back to the Pisces/emotions thing. I exhaust myself so fast!

MM: How so, if you don't mind me asking?

MLM: Well, I tend to daydream a bit so I build up my ideas of strangers around their potential instead of what I know to be reality, and that can spiral real fast. I actually deleted Tinder this summer and made a sort of romantic vision board to break that habit.

MM: Tell me more about this mood board.

MLM: It's basically an incomplete list of things that are valuable to me in a partner, and things that I can't/won't compromise on. A couple of examples are like, being considerate and independent. Also, you can't be a cop lover. In the past I've just been attracted to people that make me beg for their affection because it feels like I'm winning something, but that high isn't sustainable or worth it! Having a physical list keeps me accountable.

MM: My mom actually told me to do the same thing when I was looking for a partner! So you have her sage wisdom behind you. I imagine it helps you reality check during the infatuation stage? Like oh, they're cute but they do XYZ and I promised myself that's a no-go.

MLM: Aw yay!! YES definitely, that actually just happened this past week. I had a crush on someone I don't really know and realized I actually just like the attention.

MM: God, preach. And also like, that's a deep thought, and kind of a hard one to unpack. How did it feel to realize that? 

MLM: Honestly, really good and kind of relieving! It took a lot of conscious effort to get to this point and it was like "A-HA! I am not a slave to my impulses! Incredible!"

MM: I'm envious that you were able to realize that all right out of college. I feel like post graduation was my most murky, in-my-own-head time, especially romantically.

MLM: It was definitely rough. I went sober this January and I don't think I would have been able to make this much personal progress without that. Once I made that change it kind of had to be all or nothing.

MM: Congratulations on your sobriety!! 

MLM: Thank you!! ❤

MM: I've done periods of sobriety, but had long-term partners for all of them iirc. What's being on the dating scene like when you're not drinking? I really can't imagine it.

MLM: It definitely slims down the pool, lol. I didn't realize how much of my social life involved drinking before, and I'm not currently in a place in my sobriety where I could be involved with somebody who drinks. That plus the fact that I deeply enjoy alone time has meant I go out way less. But I'm a lot kinder and intentional in the interactions I have now and generally enjoy myself more so I think it all balanced out!

MM: You know, I don't think I've ever heard someone say they really enjoy alone time. I think most people tolerate it at best. With so much changing and blossoming internally, do you think how you present yourself to the world through your personal style has shifted, too? 

MLM: I relish it! I think my style has become slightly less chaotic, maybe a bit more monochrome. This sounds super corny, but now that I've gained some self-confidence and am more stable I don't use my clothes to speak for me, hahaha.

MM: It's not corny at all!! I've been ruminating on that lately, too. I used to look in my closet and think of it as costume pieces.

MLM: Yesss! 

MM: Also I'm now realizing it's been like almost two hours somehow?? 

MLM: Time is not real!

MM: I'll wrap this up so you can get back to your evening! Do you have any social media/online places you want to shout out for people to follow? 

MLM: Ooh yeah! I run @groundscoresofficial on Insta, and post my art at @chaoskewpie! You can find my personal through either of those but I mostly post cats and my roommates, ha. Thanks so much for having me in your online space :^))

MM: Thank you for coming to hang out at the digital pad!! 

[mocosa-media]

A Father’s Son

Assassin’s Creed Fanfic- 

Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Tazim, Malik, Altair (for a moment)

Genre: Family, hurt/comfort, father/son relationship, family feels.

Words: 2,624

Summary: Tazim strived to make his father proud, to live up to his legacy. A desperate attempt of a heart broken son who just wishes for his father to return.

"I'm proud of you, my boy."

Those were the words Tazim would never tire of. He'd be blessed if he ever did get to hear them.

The young man lost his father when he was but a child. An infant. Tazim knew very little of the man beside the few stories he was so rarely given as a boy, the image he drew within his mind of his father would be cherished. Looked after very closely. Malik was strong, ruthless, Tazim imagined, yet kind hearted to only those dearest to him. His brother in arms, nephews in all but blood, his lover, and his son.

The young assassin found himself wandering in his room with very little to do. For the past few minutes he relaxed, sitting at his desk and reading through a book. Seeming to be busy. Too busy.

"Tazim." He heard from his door.

The voice was faint. A strangers' voice yet familiar all the same, full of warmth and the slightest bit of amusement.

Looking away from his book, a few stray hairs falling in front of his eyes, the young man turned in his chair. He saw his father by the door. Just as he had always imagined.

It couldn't be.

But it was. Malik stood, a tired and calm face yet he held his chin up with pride.

Tazim could only verify the mindful image he created of his father as a younger boy now that his fathers living embodiment stood before him. The blackest, thickest of hair Tazim had imagined became scattered with gray and white strands. Tazim noted his jaw, the structure of his nose, all like his own. But what stood out the most were his fathers' eyes, almost as if taking a peek into the future, Tazim saw himself. Or perhaps only a mirror of his fathers image which he could only hope to have become in both physical form and legacy. Malik's eyes were alert, as they should be but were tired, not as lively as they once were before.

Eye's radiating with the passion of his younger years. Filled with pain, wisdom and strength, Tazim.

"Father," he said in a mere whisper.

Malik nodded his head towards his sons book, "If you are busy, I'm sure this can wait."

The younger man shook his head quickly. He shot straight up, making his chair almost topple over with the sudden movement and closed his book.

"No," he spoke out rather harshly, then clearing his throat in fear of his voice revealing how bewildered he truly was, "I'm never to busy for my family."

Tazim walked over to his father after wiping his hand of imaginary dirt. Running a hand through his sloppy hair, he took long strides as his robes swayed with him.

He stopped only once he was right in front of his father. Tazim's mouth was slightly parted, he took in a short breath before pursing his lips.

Malik, tilted his head,giving him a strange look as he held up a brow. Was his son going crazy? Had something bothered him? The younger man was acting far too strange and jittery than he would have approved.

Tazim felt his eyes grow watery at the sight of his father but looked away and cleared his throat. Malik's presence before him was enough to ignite the fire in his chest, the desire of having his father in his life. The tears that tried to seep out eventually disappeared at the young man's force. Tazim would not let his father see him cry. He must take control of his emotions. He would not seem week before his father.

After composing himself, Tazim held his chin high, turning his head, and looked to his father once more.

Malik was a just a half inch shorter than his boy. The other man also looked slightly taller because of his untidy hair, he'd need to cut it, and soon. Perhaps Tazim could ask one of the wives when they weren't too busy.

"What do you need help with?" Tazim finally asked.

Malik scoffed. "Help? What makes you think I need help? You are the one who needs help." His father told him with a wave of his hand.

Tazim sighed and chuckled, "Fine, what is it that you need?"

Just like the rare stories of his youth, Malik was much too prideful. His father wouldn't want anyone's help anymore. He said that even in his old age, even with his one good arm, he was still capable of many things. Fighting, Tazim imagined, may not be an easy feat as it once had been but Malik's quick tongue could strike with just as much precision and force.

He refused help simply because he was handicapped, proving to be twice as strong as before.

"I'd like to simply talk with my son today." The older man said in such a quiet voice, Tazim was unsure if he'd caught every word.

Was his father truly whispering? The same warrior who Tazim idolized as a young boy and still was in awe of. Was Malik embarrassed of showing some true emotion apart from sarcasm and pride? He must've been.

Tazim held back a chuckle but unable to keep a smile from spreading across his lips. They each went back into the young man's room. Malik sat on the bed while Tazim went back to his desk and sat in his chair, facing his father.

Both felt comfort with the silence between them but Tazim soon felt an inescapable itch rise from his core. He had so many questions for his father. So much he needed to say. So much he wished to hear, the words which would sound only right once Malik spoke them. Tazim hoped, he prayed that he would be given enough valor to speak his mind.

He let out a soft breath, "I always thought I'd go on assignments with you," Tazim admitted, his head hung low as he spoke,"When I was a child I always fantasized of the day I would stand by your side and fight."

Tazim held his father in such high regard. It was his father after all. Malik was a hero, a god even. As a boy, the young man craved for his father's presence.

All that had been cut short as Malik had been killed. Beheaded. Now was the time to change things, to admit his true feelings and show his father that he only wanted to make him proud. As a child, he always craved story after story of his father before him. His family. The reason of which his mother fled Masyaf. Tazim believed his father a prideful man, perhaps that same pride was the key.

Malik was alive now and Tazim feared that this would be the only time to fix things.

"You knew I was pulled from field work. I wouldn't have been able to fight alongside you," Malik told him truthfully. He sighed before looking his son over, the corners of his lips twitched upward, "You've grown into a fine man, Tazim."

The younger man felt the words pound into his soul. His father meant so much to him, as did his words. How he longed for his father, for Malik to simply be there. Tazim was still slightly in shock. His father was in front of him, they were having a conversation as adults. It was surreal. Was his father truly alive or just a ghost, a fragment of his own imagination. Was his mind playing tricks on him as it did when he was a boy, wishing for his father to return? Illusion, hallucination, dream or nightmare Tazim cared very little at that point.

"I can't believe you're here." He breathed out.

Tazim looked up timidly, his brows knitted together and gave his father a sad smile. Malik returned the gesture, unsure of what to do other than comfort his son in such a small way. His eyes were calm and loving, fingers interlaced together as a sudden peace fell upon them. His eye's, Tazim could not get enough of, filled with knowledge and strength, pain and love.

Just like mother described.

The only time Malik would ever let himself become vulnerable was in front of his family. His son. He'd let his defense go down just for this boy. His boy. His Tazim. The same boy who laughed at the idea of failure. Who pushed himself beyond his limit to bring honor to his family, his father. To be deserving of his fathers name. To become an Assassin, strong like his father before.

"After fleeing Masyaf, mother always waited by the door at dusk. I never knew why at the time. I was only a boy." Tazim started to say.

He remembered well. Before the stories began. Before, when his mother feared to even utter his father's name. He was but a child but it was not something Tazim could forget. It took him courage to finally ask about his father.

"I began to ask questions, wondered why you never came home."

The stories began. First in secret, as he went to sleep, his mother scared to speak of the Assassin's before the rule of Abbas. Slowly, the tales became full of anger. Tazim's mother told them fondly and proudly to her son, of what his father was like in life.

"I'd play in the dirt while she sat, looking up into Masyaf with worry in her eyes," he explained, his hands ran cold as he held them atop his lap, "She cried sometimes, in secret so I would not hear. She missed you."

"I have missed you, father."

That's when he broke, Tazim's voice cracked and he held back a sob. Holding his breath for a moment, light whimpers escaped his throat. He composed himself short moments at a time before the gasp of a cry escaped once again.

"I've spent every waking hour of each day in training, I just wanted to make you proud," his bottom lip quivered and his brows met together as his face held pain, " To make you proud so you would come back to me."

Malik gave his son a look with pure love. He always did and always would care for him. He loved his son, he only wished that all the pain Tazim felt hadn't been because of him. There was little he could have done apart from making sure his family was safe

Tazim's mother always said Malik was a prideful man. Tazim believed, he sincerely believed, if only he did something, anything worthy enough of his father's pride, Malik would surely return.

"I thought that maybe if I did something right, you would come back to us. To me and mother, but you never did," he said as he stifled a sob and brought his head down.

Malik came over and put a hand to his son's shoulder. It wasn't much but it would reassure him that his father was there. With a light squeeze, Malik faintly shook his head, closing his eyes. How could he ever bring such pain to his son. Malik made sure to not let a single tear escape, he would be strong for them both. He would be the strength Tazim needed.

"Can't you just be proud of me and come home?" he whispered between gasps, his face now buried in his hands.

Tazim was now choking on his own tears, he gasped for air as he tried holding back his sobs. Wiping away his tears did very little as they soon appeared once again to wet his cheeks.

"I've needed you all my life. You were never there. I just want you to come home, baba." he managed to say through the tears.

Malik sighed, he helped his boy up. Tilting his head to wipe a stray tear from Tazim's cheek, Malik spoke softly, "I cannot come home. You know that."

The older man held his sons chin up. Things happen, all you can do is adapt. Tazim had wiped his face as clean as he possibly could yet the hot sticky tears refused to stop completely. He pursed his lips, trying to even his breathing as his father's words attempted to calm him.

"Cruel things will happen for unknown reasons, Tazim." Malik said in the softest voice he could muster.

Seeing his son this way tore him, it hurt him deeply. Watching your loved ones be in pain is the worst kind of punishment.

"But why, why must this hurt so much? I just want you back." Tazim said as he wiped away the trail of tears left on his face. He felt so vulnerable, he did not want his father to witness him in such a weak state.

Malik shook his head, "There are many people who will put you down. Don't be one of them." he told his son.

Tazim couldn't hold it back for much longer, he pulled his father into a hug. Malik was caught by surprise but wrapped his own arm around the younger man.

"I am proud of you, my boy, and of all that you have accomplished."

Tazim felt himself engulfed by the familiar warmth of his childhood. The stories his mother would tell him under the safety of the night sky. Of the Assassin's, and how Malik had grown up in such an environment. How he yearned to spend time with Malik. Wished for him to appear, to follow him and try to be like him in any way possible.

Malik would be proud to say that Tazim had grown up to be a fine man. One who would make any father proud. His Tazim. His son. The independent, the brave. He still had so much to live for.

A hard hit to his head brought him out of his dream as Tazim jerked awake. He'd fallen asleep with his head resting on his hand, gravity thought otherwise as his head slipped and hit the desk he was sitting by.

"Pleasant nap?" he heard a voice beside him.

As he rubbed his sore head, Tazim looked to the source of the voice and saw Altair who was sitting beside him, reading on his desk.

"I'm sorry." Tazim mumbled as he looked around the darkened room before his eyes fell on Altair once again.

The older man was reading through scrolls and writing on parchment.

"You mumble when you sleep." Altair said, his eyes never leaving the writing. "Your father would not approve. Although, he also mumbled in his sleep as a young man."

Tazim shook his head to wake up. His brows furrowed and the young man ran a hand through his hair in thought. Why the sudden talk of his father?

He dared to ask. "Why suddenly bring up my father, master?"

Altair chuckled as he kept writing on pieces of parchment and reading through his scrolls.

"Like I said, you mumble," he said smoothly, "He's proud of you. I know it. As am I." the older man said with a smile on his scarred lips.

And Tazim believed him. It was time to say goodbye to his father. Perhaps not a permanent goodbye as Malik would forever be with him but an 'Until we meet again'.  He'd made him proud and that was that. He smiled and helped Altair up.

"It's late, time to rest." he told Altair.

They each held a strength within them and Altair couldn't help but think that Tazim was a clone of his old friend. A reincarnation of the man.

As Tazim walked, he now felt at home, here with his family. His father would always be with him, through thick and thin, and he would be proud.

[ae-diaries]

My Life Testimony

Warning: Long post ahead

The content of this blog has me holding a secret I've kept hidden for a long time. I'm a bit hesitant to share my personal story because others (who knew me already) may be shocked or turned off 😅, but hopefully, the thoughts would bless someone and help you face your weaknesses and rise above them. This is a celebration of the greatest miracle I received from God. I never thought that miracle was real, until circumstances proved that it is possible. 

Foremost in my mind is when I was a high school kid. My life was symbolized by the microphone; I’d been exposed to sing in front of a crowd, be it in school or amateur singing contests. It's not to boast but it felt like I was a singing sensation back then, others dubbed me as 'songbird', 'sweet nightingale' to name a few 🤣. But when no one's looking, I felt, for lack of a better description, just off. This was caused by a certain physical condition that tear down my self-image. 

It all began when my mother noticed that I had an uneven shoulders when I was 13 years old. Later on, I was diagnosed with scoliosis measuring a 20-degree curve, and so my doctor from PGH gave me various stretching exercises and required me to wear a brace to prevent the curve from worsening or else surgery awaits me.

I freaked out inside. At the back of my mind, I wondered, “Why me?”. From then on, a hidden scar symbolizes my 'private' life. People might not notice it, but really I was riddled with inferiority complex and lack of self-worth. Nakakaiyak isipin, imagine ako lang bukod tanging estudyante sa private skul na may ganitong klaseng kundisyon. How I pitied myself. Parang ayoko nang lumabas. Hiyang hiya ako. 

I usually cried and pahirapan pa every time my mother would be putting the brace into my body, kabilinbilinan niya wag ko daw aalisin para daw mapabilis paggaling ko, but there was this one time, while I was on my way to school, naisipan kong dumaan muna sa haus ng classmate ko para lang ipatago yung brace ko. And it happened many times. Ang bigat nyang dalhin, di lang sa katawan kundi pati narin sa kalooban. Later on, they found out what I was doing, until wala na silang nagawa sa tigas ng ulo ko. Fortunately, my classmates did not bully me in school; however, I was still very conscious and afraid that my crush would see me like a bionic kid. To this day, I have never told my parents about this reason. You know as a teenager, I was overly sensitive by the opinion of others. And that's all that matters to me. I didn't think of the consequences of this action. 

Fast forward to 2012, sabi nila end of the world na this year (according to Mayan calendar), feeling ko katapusan ko nadin when I went back to the doctor and learned that the deformity progressed to over 50 degrees. Reality finally hit me! A major surgery was needed to correct my S-curved spine. Why I didn't just wear that darn thing? I must admit nagpabaya ako as I was trying to live like a normal kid. At that time, I was already employed in my first job so I filed for a two-month leave. Luckily, my very understanding boss approved it. I also had an amazing orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Teodoro Castro, who explained to me the procedure (though it was as clear as mud to me). He was very reassuring, so I didn't get scared. 

And when he asked, "Kelan mo gusto magpa-opera?," Without a second thought, I replied, "Kahit po bukas na doc!". My thoughts were, "If not now, when pa?"( I felt like I was running out of time.) His eyes bulged upon hearing my immediate response! And so he set the schedule to May 16, 1 p.m (which I spent at Sta. Teresita General Hospital in Quezon City). 

It was exciting, really, though it had 'Final Destination' feels. Andaming 'what ifs', what if di ako maka-survive? Bigla kong naisip talagang 'life is short' at ang dami ko pa palang di nagagawa sa mundong ibabaw such as makapag-serve kay God through joining a spiritual ministry, to travel for a cause, makapag-abroad, makakanta sa tv, makita si Regine & Sarah, magamit license ko to teach students, maigala ang magulang ko, and to have my own family. Sana magawa ko pa ang mga ito after post-op. 

More so, I felt my family's collective fear; I could actually hear the loud beating of my parents' chest when they signed the waiver 🤣. My father had worries that my voice might deteriorate after the operation. Laying in my bed and knowing that I may be that close to dying, I delivered my prayer of surrender to God and remained fearless. The comforting lyrics of 'You made me Stronger' by Kelly Clarkson became my fight song while in the hospital.

Waking up after the operation was the highlight. Being groggy from the anesthesia, I opened my eyes, feeling like it's just a continuation of my short sleep. I saw the nurses and my family - patiently waiting for me to wake up for almost 6 hours na daw. The first thing I asked was, "Tapos na?" (many times). I felt a huge sigh of relief when they uttered the words that struck me to the core, "Oo, tapos na." S*** I couldn't believe my ears; I was flying with joy! For years I have prayed for this miracle. I wanted to shout and do any dance challenge, 🤣 but how could I do that? They were preventing me from talking yet or make any movements because a mask was surrounding my nose and a lot of apparatuses were attached to my body. Later on, I learned that my younger brother cried after seeing me survived the operation. May kadramahan din pala si brother na lagi kong kabangayan 😂. While the success of my operation wouldn't be possible if it weren't for the assistance provided by my father's company, DMCI Corp. That's why I'll always be indebted to their big boss, VAC (May his soul rest in peace).

My healing lasted for almost nine months. I never suffered from complications, just pure torture and regrets na sana di nalang ako nagpa-opera (huhu). This is no exaggeration but dinaig ko pa talaga ang na-cesarean. On the first month after my operation, I became disabled and reached levels of pain I thought never existed in human experience: It was difficult to breath; I could not stand and walk on my own; I became excessively skinny because of drug intake - this was a legal drug prescribed by my doctor which can remove the pain only for 4-6 hrs. It felt so pathetic and frustrating to see myself in front of the mirror. No matter how much I tried to be positive, my insecurities gripped me down again and again to the point of questioning God: "Is there a hope for me?", 

"How come others could breathe and walk so well? During these times, inggit na inggit ako sa mga taong nakakalakad at nakakahinga ng maluwag. Feeling ko life is so unfair. Somewhere deep inside, I believed I was ugly, that He really didn't like me and it was His punishment for all the sins I did in the past. As I poured out my grief before God, a question popped in my head: “Mira, give me reasons why you should remain grateful?.”

“Seriously, how can I be grateful in times like this?.”

But in those agonizing moments, a light of hope from my parents’ eyes illuminates my darkness. 

In all the times that I cried and complained, I never saw them get too tired to feed me or serve me even if it would make them uncomfortable to make me comfortable. I couldn't imagine how they felt when I looked down on myself. Aside from my parents, my siblings, concerned relatives and genuine friends also never left my side. It's as if they became my extra pair of legs when mine refuse to walk. And my heart is full of gratitude today because they have loved me during the times that I didn't love myself. 

I'm living a normal life now as if nothing happened but others observed that except for my angelic voice 🤣, I tend to become forgetful and a little bit of deaf (Yes to this level) - this was probably caused by my extra dose of antibiotics intake 🤣. They noticed that I walk with lightning speed, as if may hinahabol daw ako lagi - maybe subconsciously, this has something to do with my life goals. Yes, I do get tired easier that's why there are some things that I must not do such as lifting heavy objects, sport activities (except for swimming), washing a mountain of clothes 🤣, bawal ma-stress and ma-exposed sa extreme cold places 😅.

As they say, true wisdom is learning from your shortcomings. For everything that I'd been through, I realized that there's a lesson hidden underneath the pain and it was God's way for me to:

(1) strengthen my faith - It was through this difficult times that I also underwent a 'spiritual surgery/enlightenment'. It has helped me find my stride in God and pray like I have never prayed before (for I know nakalimot ako). I didn't know all His plans but surely He was turning my brokenness into greatness. 

(2) love myself, invest in my relationships and create good memories - The whole discernment gave me the courage to keep progressing. I began to accept my imperfections, pick up my self-esteem, and do the things I haven't done before: Much is to be done but so far, I already saw Miss Regine and Sarah in person, traveled to different places, got to teach students in schools, treat my parents - brought  them to concerts and resto; spent midnight snacks and watched movies with my siblings; hang-out with friends; reunited with a long lost friend; restored a broken relationship, and tried to forgive someone;

(3) appreciate the fine details of life - More and more, my wishes become simpler. I realized there is more to life than any material thing could give, and that is getting enough oxygen and optimal healing to every organ in my body. Sobra kong na-appreciate ang buhay ko, especially the air I breathe, and the legs that carry me everywhere.

Eto lang sapat na 'to be happy'. Why did I fail to notice this before? And that's also what I want to ask you, when was the last time you were thankful for the air around you? True to what they say, the best things in life are free, but the problem is we're not contented with what we have and complicate rules to experiencing happiness: “I will be happy only if I’ll be able to upgrade my phone, buy a latest collection of chanel bag, wear a new pair of sketchers shoes..” And I'm so guilty of it because I once was a shoppaholic before that I forgot to remember how 'enough' I truly have.   

As I look back, hagulhol nako sa iyak - there were tears in my eyes, but they were no longer tears of pain but tears of gratitude - thinking how would I survive without the amazing people in my life.

I believe that God wants me to write this article so that I could speak for Him and claim that today, I can go out without any worries because I'm no longer ashamed of the scar life has left me with. It's a blessing in disguise; a sign that I conquered pain and fear. Wala na sigurong pagsubok na di ko kakayanin dahil kinaya ko na yung 'pinakamahirap' because truly, life is about not giving up and trying to fix yourself up after every fall. 

I cannot make the scar disappear but by looking at it, I see a testimony of survival, inner strength and God's miracles. Jesus never said it wouldn't be easy, but He said it would be worth it!  - Matt. 7:13

#secondlife #lifetestimony #embracingmyscar

[dailychapel]

"Lord, grant me tenacious winsome courage as I go through this day. When I am tempted to give up, help me to keep going. Grant me a cheerful spirit when things don't go my way. And give me courage to do whatever needs to be done. In Jesus' name, Amen." - Dr. Ray Pritchard

[Psalm 90:1-17 NLT] 1 A prayer of Moses, the man of God. Lord, through all the generations you have been our home! 2 Before the mountains were born, before you gave birth to the earth and the world, from beginning to end, you are God. 3 You turn people back to dust, saying, "Return to dust, you mortals!" 4 For you, a thousand years are as a passing day, as brief as a few night hours. 5 You sweep people away like dreams that disappear. They are like grass that springs up in the morning. 6 In the morning it blooms and flourishes, but by evening it is dry and withered. 7 We wither beneath your anger; we are overwhelmed by your fury. 8 You spread out our sins before you--our secret sins--and you see them all. 9 We live our lives beneath your wrath, ending our years with a groan. 10 Seventy years are given to us! Some even live to eighty. But even the best years are filled with pain and trouble; soon they disappear, and we fly away. 11 Who can comprehend the power of your anger? Your wrath is as awesome as the fear you deserve. 12 Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom. 13 O LORD, come back to us! How long will you delay? Take pity on your servants! 14 Satisfy us each morning with your unfailing love, so we may sing for joy to the end of our lives. 15 Give us gladness in proportion to our former misery! Replace the evil years with good. 16 Let us, your servants, see you work again; let our children see your glory. 17 And may the Lord our God show us his approval and make our efforts successful. Yes, make our efforts successful!

[Luke 6:37-49 NLT] 37 "Do not judge others, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn others, or it will all come back against you. Forgive others, and you will be forgiven. 38 Give, and you will receive. Your gift will return to you in full--pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, running over, and poured into your lap. The amount you give will determine the amount you get back." 39 Then Jesus gave the following illustration: "Can one blind person lead another? Won't they both fall into a ditch? 40 Students are not greater than their teacher. But the student who is fully trained will become like the teacher. 41 "And why worry about a speck in your friend's eye when you have a log in your own? 42 How can you think of saying, 'Friend, let me help you get rid of that speck in your eye,' when you can't see past the log in your own eye? Hypocrite! First get rid of the log in your own eye; then you will see well enough to deal with the speck in your friend's eye. 43 "A good tree can't produce bad fruit, and a bad tree can't produce good fruit. 44 A tree is identified by its fruit. Figs are never gathered from thornbushes, and grapes are not picked from bramble bushes. 45 A good person produces good things from the treasury of a good heart, and an evil person produces evil things from the treasury of an evil heart. What you say flows from what is in your heart. 46 "So why do you keep calling me 'Lord, Lord!' when you don't do what I say? 47 I will show you what it's like when someone comes to me, listens to my teaching, and then follows it. 48 It is like a person building a house who digs deep and lays the foundation on solid rock. When the floodwaters rise and break against that house, it stands firm because it is well built. 49 But anyone who hears and doesn't obey is like a person who builds a house without a foundation. When the floods sweep down against that house, it will collapse into a heap of ruins."

Prayer for Others

Lord’s Prayer Our Father Who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen

Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.

[celestialholz]

Qcard 222? Pleeeeeeeeeease? :D

Happy to oblige, dear anon - thank you for the prompt! I apologise for this taking me a little bit - I’m trying to organise moving house, which is an absolute ordeal!

Welcome to 1600 words of feels for your patience, my friend, and the deliberate misdirection of what you’d probably expect from this prompt. I thoroughly enjoyed creating this, and hope you love reading it just as much! =)

22. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Prompt list here: http://celestialwarzone.tumblr.com/post/179662102941/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you

It was blissfully quiet in Picard’s quarters; soft breath was all thatcut through the air, the sleeping Captain’s mind at utter ease. By his side, Q’slips curled into a silent smile; it was majestic to watch this ineffable humanat peace, his diplomacy, quick wit and brilliant intelligence switched off byhis own biology. Jean-Luc Picard soared above his species, courageous enough tobegin affairs with gods, stubborn enough to keep such matters private from hiscrew, and far too delightful to watch in their afterglow.

He wasn’t welcome after hours, he knew – “I wouldn’t want you to getthe wrong impression, Q,” he’d murmured several weeks earlier, everthe diplomat. Too late, dearest, Q had acknowledged, onlyslightly bitter – the man was far too enthralling to ever be truly irritatedby, and he was vastly too enamoured to maintain the illusion of being so. Itwas an arrangement of convenience, a way in which to satiate the entity’sconstant desire to play god upon his vessel. It didn’t mean anything – well,not to one of them, at least.

Made something ofa rod for your own back there, didn’t you? His subconsciousdrawled. A billion lifetimes of cosmic awareness, and you still thought thatengaging in intercourse with a transient mortal you’re in love with was amagnificent idea. And you mock theirstupidity.

Q sighed wearily, in desperate need of a distraction from his personalself-deprecation; quietly, he slipped into the dreams of his lover, knowingthat whilst it was invasive, Jean-Luc would hold no great qualms with the act.

Picard was relaxed, sun beating down upon his handsome features from aworn sun lounger that perched upon the hill above his family’s vineyard. Qglanced down at him in fond amusement, vexed.

“Honestly, Johnny – who dreams of being asleep?”

The Frenchman’s eyes wrenched open within his own mind, startled.

“Q?” He demanded in bewilderment. “What on earth – is thistelepathy? Am I still asleep? What are you doing here?!”

“Yes, yes, being intrigued,” the deity replied softly, smirking. “Doyou want me to leave?”

The ‘get out’ lingered on Picard’s tongue for a long moment,before he gave a sigh of relent.

“As long as you don’t intend to be irritating, and I get the requiredrest, then no.” He shoved his spine into the back of the lounger, calming. Hismind hummed with disapproval, accepting nevertheless, and Q basked in itstangible glow; the sun held real warmth in the mysticism of the mental space,the experience as true to its beholder as the actual world would have been.

“I shall be a paragon of virtue, my dear,” the entity assured himmildly, conjuring a recliner of his own and easing into it.

“First time for everything,” Picard drawled, unconvinced.

Q gave a silent grin, summoning a frosted glass of iced tea to sip;they basked in silence for a little while, simply enjoying the ambience of aFrench summer, the god fully absorbed in the tantalising, indistinct psyche ofhis companion. It was a marvel, the resonant peace he’d managed to acquire justbeing beside him – any real period of inactivity had always had Q itching todiscover something new, to create havoc, yet he was entirely content to existquietly beside this enigma of a human.

Missionaccomplished, he noted miserably. Sleeping with me haseradicated my desire to entertain your precious crew.

“You hated this place,” he murmured, more to hush his damning owndamning assessment. “Why would you return to it in dreams, when the universe isyour oyster? You are as omnipotent as I am, here.”

Picard’s lips pursed pensively, smile fading as quickly as it hadarisen.

“Saudade,” he murmured. “Something lost, which can never bereclaimed – in this instance, a time when things weren’t always perfect, butfar simpler.”

Oh, I remember,Q mused inwardly, only his mastery of telepathy keeping his thoughts personalin his lover’s domain. I only wish I’d recall well enough to abandon you –but, then, I never was one for self-preservation. Too dramatic, you see.

“Mm,” he muttered noncommittally, simply to fill the void.

Picard rose a surprised brow at the lack of quirky reply, gauging thesituation for a moment.

“I doubt my need for relaxation this evening stems from anything that Ishould be overly concerned about.”

“No?” Q summoned a cushion for the back of his head, placing it in afluid movement as he tried to appear as though he didn’t hang permanently offthe man’s every word.

“I think not. I’m sure the individual that I have appealed to is on thesame page as I am.”

Q turned onto his side to stare, following the line of cryptic thoughtwith equal vagueness.

“Well, hopefully. I could check, if you like? It would hardly be beyondme.”

“No, no, it will be quite alright, I’m certain.” Picard’s gaze returnedto the ambling vineyards. “I just don’t understand, you see, becausethey knew the whole time. I was never anything other than upfront.”

Something very similar to foreboding crept up Q’s spine.

“Perhaps they do know,” he murmured, “though, of course, knowing doesn’tmake something personally applicable.”

“Doesn’t agreement?”

“Potentially. That rather depends on who we’re discussing, doesn’t it?”

Picard’s eyes wrenched back to his, their irritation clear.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, when you think I don’t notice.” Hiswords were little more than a whisper, though they held the sharpness ofmidwinter. “Like I’m comprised of, of… stardust, of the finest jewels… asthough I’m something – wonderful.”

Q gave a bark of a bitter chuckle, gaze taut, his tea cast aside with aswipe of his hand.

“You mortals are so obtuse,” he murmured, deliberately glancing away,the vines before him blurring just slightly. “You spend so much of your livesdealing with the physical, the tangible to your limited senses, that you forgethow much more there is, that there are things far beyond your comprehension.You’re human, Jean-Luc – oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen, calcium, a handfulmore; seventy percent water, five foot nine, French… really quite dull, by yourpeople’s standards, though highly intelligent, and rather handsome to boot. Youlive an average life, on an average vessel, in a largely uninteresting timeperiod – by rights, you shouldn’t fascinate anyone, much less a god.”

He conjured a holographic star system, a miniature Captain floating atits heart, a bright smile gracing his lips. The real thing watched, entranced,unwilling to give away a damned thing.

“But we’re all more than the sum of our parts, aren’t we dear?” His ownsmile was tired as he regarded the hologram. “You’re brilliantly clever, morethan willing to stand up someone so beyond your capacity it’s laughable… yourise above the morons you exist beside. A diplomat, a man of honour, wisdom,passion… you are wonderful. You match me word-for-word, never bore me, alwaysprove a challenge – and you care, on whatever level it may be. You askme how my day’s been when I don’t even have a concept of linear time, how theContinuum’s doing. No one does that, you know. I’m acquainted with billions,Jean-Luc, and none of them mean a damned thing in comparison. Innumerate stars,planets, phenomena, people, timescales, and it all reduces to you.”

The tiny cosmos retracted to nothingness in Q’s palm, leaving the simulatedCaptain alone, still regarding his magician as though he was the world. Picardstared, breathless, his relaxing dream quite forgotten.

“My point is, you’re the tiniest pinprick of existence – you aren’t anewly formed sun, an unexplored M-class system, the first inklings of a highlyadvanced race upon an untouched world… physically, you’re worthless.”

He smiled morosely, trembling fingers causing his illusion to flicker;his eyes finally deigned to meet his lover’s, burning with emotion.

“But by the Continuum, and all we are, you are the universe tome.”

Picard choked back tears, visibly compromised.

“I…” He swallowed quietly, struggling to regain his usually impeccablecomposure. “This was never meant to – I told you – ”

“Oh, I know.” Q shook his head just slightly, the lament clear. “If ithelps, it isn’t your fault, Jean-Luc. You really were perfectly upfront.”

He paused, essence threatening to shatter, gaze drilling into the human’s.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Picard murmured immediately, understanding that the offer wasn’tunique to his dream, “but I need… time, Q. Perhaps the concept of the cosmoshasn’t only narrowed for you, my friend.”

A thrill shot through the god’s spirit, and he barely suppressed abeam, instead settling for a soft smile – gods only knew he didn’t wish toappear smug.

“Alright.” He breathed softly, delight curling through his spirit. “Igenuinely didn’t think –”

“Nor me, but apparently you’ve somehow wormed your way in,” Picardadmitted dryly, warm expression belying his caustic tone. “I’m… willing toconsider the notion, Q, but that’s all I can offer as yet. There will be rules,of course –”

“Naturally.” The sarcasm held no bite whatsoever, distant starsexhausting their chemical supply under his joy. “It is you, after all.”

Their gazes drifted to the vineyard, both comfortably silent for a longmoment even as the question itched at Q’s mind.

“So, Captain, how long do you think –?”

“Q,” Picard interrupted coolly, “shut up. I’m trying tosleep.”

He leaned back against the lounger and closed his eyes, his loverlaughing softly.

“There isn’t anyone else in this universe I’d stay quiet for, you know.”

An eyelid partly opened, its look humbled – the cynical, desperatelyhopeful part of Q could almost call it tender.

“I’m glad.”

By mutual agreement, they reached out a hand, lacing them together,grins identical as they simply basked in the ambience of rural France, and thecontentment of being united.