#THE LIGHT TH (heavenly angels start singing)

[st4rstudent]

macthinker for you! happy birthday!

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭UHGUG😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭UVH😭😭😭😭😭UHGHUAOUH😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭3J3K222 RKJ EJ4M3 329😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭I3O3OOI😭IDDJDIIDN 😭OUUUUGHOHHHHHH

[yesvaldemarharder]

It Hurts Like Hell || Valdemar x Adalia (OC)

-

Ok so one of my many rps made me want to write this. Where Adalia actually knew Valdemar as kids. That’s all I’ll say on that. If you don’t like ocs, bye but in this Adalia is a half angel half human hybrid oc. (Which technically makes her a nephilim so she can be evil as fuck if she allows evil to take over her)

I’ll perhaps post pictures of Adalia that I have drew later but for now here you all go! (Update from inbox coming soon so keep an eye out for those) this is also a bit of a song fic, ok it may be a full song fic but just read it and here me out.

Song: Hurts Like Hell - Fleurie

-

The body laid before her, limp, cold, gone and even though she hated to feeling of such coldness on her fingers she couldn’t help but touch the lifeless body. Her fingers ran up the cool skin, over the bloody chest and up to the cheek feeling the soft skin. She rubbed circles in the young girl’s cheek, her eyes bloodshot and bright with crimson. A twinge of pain sprouted until it hurt so much that Adalia had to close her eyes, gently, carefully..almost as if the girl wasn’t dead but simply asleep. Adalia didn’t wish to wake her.

The room was empty except for her and the dead, the smell of gore filled the air. No one was safe from the plague she could see, not men, women, or children. Not anyone.

Adalia had allowed this to happen, to scared to rely to heavily in her powers and now her she was, with the blood of an innocent on her hands. A human child who once smiled, who once laughed, now presented to her with her belly open to show Adalia the damaged that the plague had done to her small body. To show Adalia right to her face the failures she embraced. Angels were her to help and to keep the weak safe and yet - Adalia turned seeing a boy no older than perhaps nine, she gagged lightly pulling her hand from the girl to cover her own mouth. Angels were here to keep the voices of the unheard heard and yet she had allowed so many people to fall into the hands of the Devil.

Valdemar watched around the corner hidden, what was the angel doing now? Had they finally broken her? They watched as she straightened herself up as best as she could before wiping at her eyes. Valdemar lifted a brow, a demon in the dark who had been haunting this poor being since she got her, a wide smile on their lips as she caressed the boy’s cheek. She rubbed light circles in his cold flesh before leaning done to press a gentle kiss against his temples. His eyes had already been closed thank God but it didn’t seem to make Adalia feel any better.

Valdemar couldn’t understand the point of doing such, they were already gone, already long dead. There was no point of being gentle, kisses wouldn’t bring them back. Valdemar simply found it hilarious, angels worked in clearly different ways then demons did, it was laughable. Valdemar thought to themselves, what was even the point of watching this poor thing anymore. At first it was funny, they had used her; kissed on her flesh and clawed at her skin like they had really wanted her. It was really funny, hilarious to use her but now as they watched her walk around the many bodies they..found that this was just pitiful.

She didn’t look right here, around the dark layers that colored the dungeons walls, around the dark souls that hung around. Adalia was bright even when she didn’t wish to be, even when her scars showed that that she had been in quite a handful of not so bright places. An angel who should have been treated better. Valdemar snapped out of their thoughts when they heard her speak. Her voice light and smooth as she stopped to hold on to the side of one of the vivisection tables, blood running down she warm brown skin and wrist just to drip with a sickening ‘splat’ to the floor followed by ‘plunk, plunk, plunk’. The dripping of blood filled the nearly silent room.

“I’m...sorry I couldn’t help you.” She said, her voice shaky as she stood beside a dead woman who Valdemar had happily informed her was pregnant at her time of arriving at the dungeons. Far too happily. Adalia looked at her belly, bloated and veiny but because of building fluids. Definitely not a baby anymore, the baby had long been gone by this point.

It hurt. It hurt like hell.

In the silent struggle or wanting to walk away and sink to the floor and cry Adalia found her voice again.

“How can I say this..without breaking.” Her hands clutched the side of the table. “How can I..say this without taking over.” She whispered before pulling away. She had on the same thing that the other doctors wore and yet she looked so much different here. An energy that pulsed with love and sorrow reaching far enough to just brush against Valdemar’s senses and their eyes widened in a slight shock. An energy they had never felt before, one that for the first time in their long years of living actually made them pause. They continued to watch her and her hourglass shaped body, how her white heavenly hair bounced with each gentle step she took. Watched as her now bloody hands gently ran arcross the table leaving a streak or sadness behind. “How...can I put it down into words when it’s almost..almost too much for my soul alone?”

A crack in her voice, a crack in her shell, and now her heart was crumbling. Adalia took careful steps as if she was in a nursery singing to sleeping babies. Valdemar couldn’t understand but surprisingly th found themselves trying to. Why...was she so bothered by the natural cycle of life? It was normal for beings to die, that’s why Valdemar didn’t get close to others. Not again.

I loved and I loved and I lost you.

I loved and I loved and I lost you.

I loved and I loved and I lost you.

And it hurts like hell,

Yeah it hurts like hell.

White hair neck length hair flowing in the wind, a wide smile they could see as she ran. “Come on Val!” Came that sweet voice, and as the young demon followed they looked down to see that beautifully brown hand wrapped around a sickly green wrist. Wings, an angel. Adalia. Valdemar’s eyes widened the widest they’d ever done before. They didn’t like to think about their past, sometimes things were too foggy to remember, too long ago but something struck them there.

They remember her smile and they remembered her skin before it was laced with evidence of greedy hands. Before it was colored with trauma. Her eyes, they were attracted to them the second they found her waiting for Nadia all before herself. They knew those eyes, they knew that smile, they knew this broken angel who had been repeatedly beaten down by this cruel planet.

They remembered her, it was still a bit foggy but enough for them to remember that they once didn’t hate each like they did know. That once a very long time ago they had something that no one else could give either of them. Valdemar wish they could remember the way she laughed, the way she called for them with pure innocence and happiness in her voice. Had Valdemar, affected her more than they knew about. They swiftly went to take a step out of the shadows but she was already looking in their direction.

They froze, eyes on her where she seemed to meet them halfway. Could she see them? Valdemar couldn’t tell but they watched in silence as tears gathered in her eyes. Bright and shiny, silver...angel tears. Valdemar stayed still as she turned her head away wiping at her face with a hand swearing blood from her eye to her cheek which only managed to drip and color her work closed as tears washed the crimson away.

“I don’t want them to know the secret..I don’t want them to know the way I loved you.” She said and Valdemar felt a twisting pain in their chest, somewhere they thought wasn’t active anymore and yet Adalia was making it do such. They unconsciously reached up slowly to clutch their clothes before falling their hand into a fist. Something was beating. ‘Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump’ it went it quick beats, so quick that had they’d been human they would have had a heart attack. What happened? Would Adalia tell them if they asked? Did she even know? “I don’t think the understand it, no.” She continued and they looked back at her quickly as silver and crimson fell from her eyes, dancing down her cheeks leaving shiny streams against her skin. “I don’t think you’d accept me, no.”

-

“Adalia please stop that.” Came their voice, not as smooth as her but not horrid to hear either. They sighed lightly looking down at her. She laid in their lap, her finger lightly poking at their cheek as if she wished to drive them mad. Where were they? Valdemar ran their hand in the grass they sat in together, spiky but not harmful. Adalia pokes at their cheek one last time as they leaned down until their nose pressed together.

“Why should I?” She asked with a challenge and the younger demon scoffed halfheartedly. Their lips about an inch or two away from hers, their own brown locks casting a shadow for them. Adalia’s eyes, bright and naive. Valdemar’s however who had seen death before. An angel and a demon..as friends.

Valdemar got closer, Adalia’s tail flicked in the grass before curling, her wings tucked under her. Her wings that were pure white, powerful just like she herself was. “Because if you don’t, I’ll kiss you.” Valdemar spoke lightly against her lips as their eyes left hers to look down at her lips, smooth and full compared to their slimmer ones that were slightly chapped. Adalia giggled.

A sweet sound.

-

Valdemar shook their head which now started to beat, a rocking noise like a boat getting beaten by the waves of nature. It hurt. Adalia now stood with her back to them, Valdemar looked over her starting with her head full of white hairs which now had strands of purple or black in them to her shoulders that rose and fall and then their eyes were on her upper back. It trembled and they found themselves want to hold her and they attempted to step out of the darkness once more to enter her light but streaks of blood started to bleed through. Her tail was already out, hovering over the ground.

Where has her wings gone?

-

“Adalia!” The young demon shot up when their friend carefully approached. They smiled a little. She had vanished suddenly, Valdemar had grown worried, scared that their fight had drove her away but now she was back with them. Back at the Lazaret with them. They approached her arms open for a hug and then they stopped, feathers trailing behind her. “Ada?” They slowed down now taking the time to get a better look at her. There was no smile but their were tear streaks under her lowered gaze. They was no greeting but soft sniffles. They felt the urgency and quickly went over, and eyes narrowed into slits as they saw her wings. Bloody, cut, falling apart.

An anger suddenly took over Valdemar and they grabbed her wrist pulling her to face them. “Ada! Speak! What happened?” They demanded but even as they yelled at her she stood silent as if she had fell death. Her clothes dirty with blood, sweat, and tears. Someone had hurt their angel.

Dreams fight with machines.

Inside my head like adversaries.

Come wrestle me free,

Clean from the war.

Everything was bloody, Valdemar bathed her and with each flinch and shake they grew darker. They wanted to hurt something or someone..and even though Adalia was the only one with them they refused to let it be her. The river water grew bloody, her skin caked with dirt as she hugged herself. Valdemar tried to be careful with her now damaged wings running the wash cloth up her spine lightly. Then they noticed a collar around her throat and as they reached out without thought to grab it she slapped their hand away. Her sudden quickness shocking them as they quickly pulled away, water splashing heavily around the both of them.

Her eyes yelled at them without her having to physically. Anger, pain, and fear resided there, things that Valdemar had never seen on her face before. Things that hurt a lot more then the slap they had received.

-

The collar was still there. They thought as they looked at Adalia’s back. Why? Why was it still there? Why, why why?! Valdemar actually grew angry seeing it, their hands balling up into fist so hard that their nails couldn’t be stopped by the gloves they wore. Their nails piercing their palm until only black blood dropped from their fist. Now the dead bodies didn’t matter at all, but something about Adalia being surrounded by the dead was starting to bother them. She didn’t fit here, not in the dark, not with them.

Valdemar once held a dead body.

One that looked far too much like Adalia.

Almost identical.

Did they cry that day with that body?

They couldn’t remember.

-

Their eyes sharpened, it made more sense now. Everything made a lot more sense now to them as they approached her almost silently.

“Your heart fits like a key, into a lock on the wall.” She sung some more, and as she sung Valdemar couldn’t focus on anything but her. However the bodies seemed less in pain now, even when dead and after after being tormented in life, in death now they looked at peace. If blankets had been tucked just below their chests except from completely over them or not over them at all anyone would have thought it was just a room of snoozing people. Snoozing people who played with the dead instead of actually being them. “I turn it over, I turn it over...but I can’t escape.”

I turn it over, I turn it over.

Valdemar reached out to her, their fingers flexing lightly and as she sniffled they hesitated.

I loved and I loved and I lost you.

I loved and I loved and I lost you.

I loved and I loved and I lost you.

Adalia jerked when arms wrapped around her shoulders pulling her back from the dead body in front of her, the one she had been crying over. A past lover who could’ve treated her much than he had but he still held value to her. Valdemar scoffed at him as she gently caressed his arm before they pulled her back. Her arm fell limp. “Ada..” they mumbled against her to which she paused before turning her head to look at them.

“Val.”

And it hurts like hell.

-

- Not gonna lie I got lazy at the end but I do hope someone enjoyed that. I once drew a pic of Adalia with Valdemar a while ago but I’ve really touched up on her looks. And before any of the other role play partners comment, yes this is a different version of Adalia.

UwU

If anyone wants more parts to this or for me to actually write about them than fucking comment.

[insane-control-room]

The Sketch

Chapter Five, Segment Five

Full chapter on Ao3 here

previous - masterpost

Dance of Will

Johan took slow, deliberate, steady steps to the exit into the studio, making his way at a snail’s pace to the room he would have built the machine in, one step, two step, stumble step, get up step, one step, two step, and repeat. One, two, three, a humbling and striving dance of wills.

And Johan knew he would win this one, just this once, he would make it, he would do it.

The ink machine tried to slow him with taunts, with creaking pipes, with flashes of arms grabbing at him, but he ignored them, he braced himself and took them, and he closed his eyes and pressed on, getting closer and closer to his end goal of the machine.

Oh, how it hissed and sputtered and whispered sweet promises to beguile him, but the throbbing ache in his heart kept him moving, and to counter the pipe’s whisperings, he whispered to himself Names. The names of those he loved and lost.

Those names flashed through his mind, in his palpitating body, his quivering hands. They made his perseverance grow, made him keep moving despite his body wanting to do nothing but lay down and seek eternal respite.

Let me comfort you….

“Jack, Johnny Doe,” Johan murmured, knowing that the sweet lyricist always knew exactly what to say, always was so kind and welcoming and comforting, that the words of the machine would never, not ever, compared to the bear of a man’s words. Johnny Doe’s kind and gentle demeanor his drawling tones and wonderful music, the way he never questioned the way Johan would flinch or shudder, only a soft smile to comfort him. The two musician’s partner in talent and voice came to Johan’s mind as well, rough at the edges, but with a heart of gold and the most tranquil voice and most wonderful melodies, how he craved to hear those old songs then, wishing greatly for his mind to stop racing if for but a moment. “Sammy.”

I can heal you of your wounds.

“Shawn, Jack, J-Jameson,” with each of the Flynn brother’s names he took three steps, “Sean, Tian, Marvin,” those kind and laughing and bubbling cousins, whose personalities were so vastly different yet so close at heart, “Chase, Robby, Henrik….” How he missed them, their comfort, their skills, their knowledge and laughter, and he pushed on, for them. He pushed on, and for Shawn’s love, Wally’s twin, the two brooklyn bostonians always there to help, always bickering and full of love, and his eyes welled with tears as the desire to see them once more nearly overpowered his weak heart. “Willy, W-Wally….”

We can build a new world, a perfect world!

“Bertrum,” Johan wheezed, remembering everything he could about the builder, the way his hair curled above his brow, his rusty gold eyes, his blue suit. Another figure filled his oscillating vision, hir ringlet locks down hir shoulders, hir intelligent smile and bright eyes, hir soothing drawl that felt like home, and he murmured hir name as well, and his wonderful moth of growth. “Lacie. Gracehopper.”

A world of Light and Song!

“Norman,” the bright man’s wit and calm demeanor was something Johan always admired, his booming laugh and gentle words always there to brighten Joey’s day. And the angels on earth, their heavenly voices so genteel, the wind singing their praises, so wonderful, sweet, and kind, each different. One fast and almondy, the other methodical and apple like, a delightful pie melding their traits together in warm buttery perfection. “Susie, Allison….”

Everyone will learn from the words on your lips.

“Dot,” he breathed the round girl’s name, knowing that her stories and ideas grew from his own, and a spark of pride filled his chest. He cared for her as though she were his own daughter, though their ages were closer than most would believe. And of course, his favorite Yeshiva student, his only Yeshiva student, his progedy and apprentice, so easily grasping all the concepts and methods he taught him. “Buddy.”

All the knowledge you seek to learn will be in your grasp.

“Grant, Sori,” the couple’s wisdom and smart was far greater than his own would ever be, and he accepted it, seeking to only learn from them, to study how they were so wonderful and great. And the genius of the pipe worker himself, the one who helped Johan get to where he was with all his knowledge and smart, the iron welding and woodworking that he ever so diligently learned under his watchful eyes. “Thomas.”

Your family will be the vastness of the entire universe!

“Henry,” Joey immediately replied, the machine coming into his sight, and he could see all of the flaws and imperfections lining it. He limped toward it as thoughts of strawberry blonde hair filled his inner eye, and the globe in the shorter man’s eyes, the brilliance and love in his embrace. The feeling of his lips ghosting his own, prompting Johan to smile, though it pained him to no end. Then, her. His daughter. His darling dearest wonderful child. The sweetness of her laugh, the way he would braid her hair as she would tell him stories eagerly, her laugh and her hugs and wonder. “Linda.”

YOU CANNOT WIN! YOU BELONG TO ME! I AM THE ULTIMATE CREATION, I AM GREATER THAN YOU! I AM PERFECTION! I AM GLORY AND WONDER! I AM THE RENEWAL OF THE WORLD!

“Nah,” Johan’s broken voice rang true and strong as he clambered into the machine, knowing exactly which screws to loosen, where to damage, how to defeat the false perfection before him. “You’re the end of it, pal. So, why don’t you shut up…”

He exited the machine, and went to lean against the wall, sinking against it, summoning his computer with his flagging strength. The bee came with it, and he managed to smile, patting her small body.

YOU SHUT UP!

“Why should I?” Johan rose an eyebrow. His scar on his forehead cried out against the action. “I have already beaten you.”

You’re a liar.

The pain in his side burst once more, and Joey snarled as he came back to himself.

“FINE! I’ll play your game,” Johan hissed. “You’ve beaten me. Is that what you want to hear?”

Yes.

The machine seemed smug, as though it were preening itself. Joey rolled his eyes.

“Oh, great and powerful machine, of perfection and w-wonder,” he let a smile grace his lips as he once again approached the hunk of junk. Already his mind was churning on how to improve it. “Perfect in all of it’s facets and being.”

Aren’t I?

Joey smiled, holding the copper wires behind his back. The machine was so self centered, it was nigh unbelievable.

“And aren’t I a liar?”

That threw it for a loop.

“Well?”

All of the words of praise Johan had said were meaningless, bound by the machine’s own perception of him. It was quieted, forced to swallow it’s own words back into the inky depths.

“I think you need a good dose of hope, eh?” Joey smiled, patting it on the metallic side, his bone protruding from his hands making a queer scraping noise. “How about it?”

Silence was the only answer.

“Well, I think we got off on th-the wrong foot.”

Power rushed into him as he attached the wires to himself, the machine.

“Let’s take it back to the start, hm?”

The code he worked on flared to life.

“And let it all restart.”

[hookedonapirate]

The Princess and Her Sultan

Summary: Crown princess Emma of Misthaven is second in line to the throne, her brother Leopold ll being the first, but her parents see her with a future as a great ruler. King Rumpelstiltskin of neighboring land, strikes a deal with King David, promising to uphold the peace between the kingdoms if Emma marries Prince Baelfire. With the promise of his daughter becoming future queen of the Dark Kingdom, David accepts reluctantly.

Before her wedding day, the princess is kidnapped and taken overseas. She is sold as a slave to a palace where Crown Prince Killian of Neverland ascends his father’s throne and is sworn in as Sultan. Meanwhile, Killian’s mother pressures him to sire a prince and presents him with gifts for his birthday, one of them including a blonde princess from Misthaven. Dazzled by Emma’s charm, intelligence and beauty, he summons her to his bedchambers every night and eventually finds himself casting aside his harem and centuries of tradition.  

A/N: In a previous post, I asked if you were all okay with another smutty chapter and no one seemed to be opposed to the idea, so here we are again, but it’s not entirely smut, only about 75% :) I do have to apologize ahead of time, I’m throwing some religion at you in the beginning, but yeah, actually I’m not really sorry because…. well, you’ll see why ;)

Thank you @gingerchangeling for your wonderful suggestions and ideas for this story, and also @ilovemesomekillianjones for gifting me with your wonderful editing skills at. I also want to give a shout out to @onceuponaprincessworld for being my sounding board, constant cheerleader and good friend, thank you, darling! This story wouldn’t be the same without these lovely ladies!

And all of you have been so supportive and awesome, thank you all for following along and for your feedback!

Rated: Explicit

AO3 l FF.N I Prologue l Ch 1 l Ch 2 l Ch 3 l Ch 4 l Ch 5 l  Ch 6 l  Ch 7 l Ch 8 l

Also, check out Behind the Scenes if you haven’t already, and see how I almost wrote the story!

Chapter 9

The sacred text of Killian's religion uses many ways to describe heaven and hell. There is the physical heaven or the sky; it's decreed that there are seven levels of sky, or seven heavens, one above the other. The seven heavens are also used in a spiritual sense, they are often referred to as Paradise and are described as beautiful gardens filled with greenery and flowing water. There are several gardens in Paradise and the highest garden is reserved for the most righteous of believers. The Underworld refers to the concept of hell, an afterlife of punishment for evildoers, and is also divided into seven levels, each one more severe than the one above it. The lowest depth of hell is a bottomless abyss reserved for hypocrites and infidels.

Killian can only imagine that being lonely in the highest garden of Paradise is the same as being lonely in the bottomless pit of the Underworld.

The loneliness he had felt since Milah's death had slowly crept in and created a void in his heart, not even his best friend, his mother or sister could fill. That void had been slowly eating away at him, and Killian had feared his heart, his world, would be nothing but emptiness and darkness. That is until Emma appeared in his life. Now his heart blossoms with what he can only describe as love. Yes, he is in love with Emma, his Gozde, and since he has taken her to his bed, she is now his Ikbal.

The sacred text paints several descriptive representations of heaven and hell. At one point, Killian had a clear picture in his mind of the difference between heaven and hell, but it was brief, and that vision had disappeared almost as soon as it had appeared to him. Once Milah was gone, he’d come to the conclusion that if he were to spend his life alone, then wherever he goes in the afterlife, heaven or hell, doesn't really matter to him. Either would be the same. But with Emma in his arms, her heavenly body pressed up against his and her lovely limbs entangled with his, he finally knows what it's like to be in the highest garden of Paradise.

He has to peel himself away from her for a moment just to admire her beauty. He takes immense pleasure watching his sleeping minx; there is nothing more bewitching to him, his eyes drinking in every inch of skin not hidden by the silk sheet, which is draped elegantly over her hip. She lies on her side facing him, black kohl smudged against her cheek. The silhouette of her curves leads his gaze over her stomach and over the dip of her belly button. When his eyes reach her firm, beautiful breasts with rose-tipped nipples, he finds it difficult to look away without first kissing each one. But he'd much rather wait until she's awake so he can enjoy and appreciate her reactions. He aches to hear those lovely sounds pour from her lips, he yearns to watch her face light up like a starry night as her body sings in blissful pleasure. His gaze appreciatively roams over her long, slender neck and the outline of her jaw and cheekbones. She undoubtedly reminds him of an angel, with silken smooth skin, soft curves and luscious golden curls splayed over the pillow in disarray.

Brushing his hand over her hip and down her bare leg under the sheet, he loves the way her skin feels beneath his fingertips, so silky and soft like flower petals. As his fingers roam up and down her leg, he can smell the perfume of her sex from the previous night as it still lingers in the air, rousing him.

His angel stirs a little, stretching out like a tigress as she slowly wakes. Arching her back, she presses her body into his, humming softly in content. A low growl tears from his throat as he feels her nipples against his chest hair, his groin stirring to life as he continues to touch her skin. He’s afraid he will never be able to get enough of her. As he strokes her thigh, he lifts his head, whispering in her ear, “Morning love.” He noses her ear lobe, his lips curving into a smirk as he breathes in her scent. “You smell delicious.”

Emma smiles, her eyes fluttering open. His heart starts racing when her emerald green eyes pierce into his blue ones. He moves his hand back down her leg toward her knee and throws her leg over his hip before slipping his hand between her thighs. She's soaking wet, which was either caused by him touching her or because she was having pleasant dreams. Judging by her mouth, which opens in pleasure, her flushed cheeks that weren't quite the same shade a moment ago and the desire in her eyes, he believes both to be true. “And so incredibly wet for me.”

Emma takes him by surprise when she grabs his face and presses her mouth to his, lazily slipping her tongue into his inviting mouth, her nipples protruding against his skin. He groans, massaging her tongue with his and shifting them, so she is on her back. He pins one of her arms over her head with one hand, and with the other, he holds himself up as he deepens the kiss, threading his fingers through hers. They breathe each other in every time their lips move, and soon his manhood is hard and throbbing against her stomach. Emma parts her creamy thighs, and he settles between them, moving the head of his shaft along her folds as he grinds into his goddess, her nectar coating his length. Everything becomes a pleasant blur, his head spinning as he penetrates her slick warmth.

“Oh, God…” she whimpers, her sleep-laced words completely cracked and shattered.

Her legs are wrapped snug around his hips and he’s pounding into her with lazy but persistent thrusts, bringing her at his mercy once more. She moves her hips with his, her walls drawing him in as deep as possible. She feels so good around him, he struggles to keep himself up with one arm. So he releases her hand, using both of his to hold himself above her.

She reaches up and pulls his face to hers, kissing him hard on the mouth once more. She sucks on his bottom lip as he moves rhythmically, hitting the right spot inside of her that will soon have her seeing stars. He's on the verge of being there with her. She feels so good, he's about to burst. Lightly biting his lip, she runs her hands over his body, touching everything she can reach, her hands moving to his back and trailing down his spine to his butt, squeezing the firm, muscular flesh in her hands and pressing him into her.

Killian groans and buries his face in her neck, enjoying the feel of her tight walls wrapped around his cock. He’s quickening his pace and soon feeling himself getting closer to his peak. He is completely lost. Lost in their haze of hungry passion. Lost in her.

His lover writhes underneath him as she crescendos, needy moans singing from her lips as the waves of pleasure roll through her body. Killian can feel it, her walls tightening around him, pulling him in deeper. His eyes are fluttering shut as he feels his body tense. A raspy groan crawls from the back of his throat as his seed bursts inside of his lovely goddess, his hips slamming into her a few more times before stilling. His erection receding, his cock slips out of her and he slumps into her, using his strength to hold him up a bit so he doesn't crush her as he buries his face in her lovely breasts, using them as soft cushions. Her heart is pounding in his ear as she combs her hands through his hair, both of them trying to breathe again. He stays like that for a while and enjoys kissing this beautiful woman, running his fingers along her naked curves. Sleep once again grips them and they fall into a peaceful slumber.

~*~

When Emma wakes again from a wispy sleep, she feels content and satisfied; she doesn’t wish to move but knows she must get back to the women’s quarters. The Sultan is still sleeping, so she quietly and carefully disentangles her body from his and sits up on the edge of the bed. Her thighs are still wet from their activities and she bites her bottom lip as the memories of last night and early morning flood her mind. God, why does he have to affect her like this? She could’ve easily gone without these feelings blooming in her chest, but Killian has awakened something inside of her, and she doesn’t hate it. In fact, she rather enjoys the rush of euphoria and pure bliss flowing through her veins. She doesn't want it to end.

Emma’s sleepy eyes wander around the room in search of her clothes, but before she can stand from the bed to fetch them, a pair of strong arms are wrapping around her from behind.

“Where do you think you’re going, love?” he asks, pushing her golden tresses away from her face to shower her cheek and ear with soft kisses.

Emma laughs as his beard tickles her skin. “Custom demands I return to the harem by dawn.” As the words leave her lips, she regrets them, her heart aching at the thought of leaving him, and despite her words, her body melts into his touch.

Killian growls, “As the Sultan, I demand you stay.” Before Emma can protest, he takes her hand and pulls her in his arms where he lays against the mattress so she’s lying atop him.

Emma does not bother to argue. “Well if my Sultan demands it, then I must obey.”

He responds by retracting a hand from her body and swatting her bottom, making her moan in delight. "You're mine," he growls playfully in her ear and squeezes her butt firmly in his grip. "All mine."

She giggles, actually giggles, for probably the first time in a very long while.

“Mmmm, that is my favorite sound,” he murmurs against her ear as he presses a kiss there.

Emma’s entire body tingles, her skin still very sensitive after her three orgasms. “What’s that?” she asks, closing her eyes to relish the feel of his lips as he leaves a trail of kisses from behind her ear to the crook of her neck.

He lowers his head against the pillow and gazes up at her, his blue eyes twinkling. “Your laugh,” he answers, a smile overtaking his lips. “It’s music to my ears.”

The sincerity of his words sends her heart soaring. Emma finds herself grinning from ear to ear as her fingers stroke his scruff covered cheek. He kisses her lips sweetly and softly, his hand sliding through her hair.

“Please stay, my swan."

“Again, my Sultan? I don't know if I am physically able,” she laughs.

“No, love, it's been three full moons since the last time I've been with a woman and I could go several more rounds with you,” he says quirking a brow suggestively, “but in all honesty, I would rather simply spend time with you, if that's what you wish too, of course.” His expression saddens, his eyes darkening a bit. “I cannot bear for you to leave my presence yet.”

Emma can hear the pain in his words. The thought of her leaving him might break him. And in all honesty, she doesn’t wish to go. She nods, her thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’ll stay.”

A grin takes over his entire face and he kisses her once more. Emma presses her body against his, seeking his tongue with hers and writhing in his arms.

“You keep that up and you're going to make me hard again,” he growls, and Emma’s smirking, not opposed to the idea. But they know they must stop before things become heated between them again. Emma wants to be able to walk again when she has to leave his bedchamber.

So, they get up, and Killian puts on his robe before calling for a slave to bring a robe for Emma, some fruit juice and sweet cakes. He also tells them to send a message to Mother Superior letting her know that Emma will be staying with him for the morning. He takes her robe and drapes the silk fabric over her shoulders and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Come, love, join me on the terrace,” he beckons, extending his hand.

She slips her hand in his, allowing him to lead her outside, and he sits on the couch, pulling her into his lap. The servants give them odd looks as they serve them food and drinks, but they do not dare say a word and are quickly dashing away, bowing their heads.

As the sun rises against the colorfully painted sky, a soft breeze sweeps around them. The air is the perfect temperature, especially for being only dressed in robes, and any coolness the wind brings them only means they have to snuggle closer for warmth.

They eat the sweet cakes and drink from their chalices in peace, basking in the sun and the other’s embrace. Emma doesn’t remember the last time she has felt this content.

When they are finished eating, the servants take away the trays and leave them be. Emma and Killian remain on the couch where they chat and adore each other's company.

“My ancestors, the former sultans… they all murdered their half brothers or commanded it, so they would not feel threatened when they took the throne,” Killian murmurs, his hand caressing her arm as he holds her. “Liam and I both had the same father and mother. Maybe that's why we were close, but we made a promise when we were young that the throne would never come between us. If he were alive today, he would not have to be threatened by me. My family is more important than being sultan.”

Emma turns her head to peer up at him. She can see the wreckage in his eyes and knows he is telling the truth.

“When I have sons, I want them to be close like Liam and I were.”

She arches a brow in curiosity. Is he implying he wants the same mother for all of his sons? Or does that bond include half brothers too?

“Maybe that makes me less of a man in the eyes of my father,” he sighs deeply.

Emma shakes her head. “I don't think it would. It makes you honorable, and as power hungry as your father was, do you really think he wanted his sons to murder each other for the throne?”

“Aye, power makes us do unfathomable things. My father was once a good man… then he turned into a monster when his seat of the throne was threatened. I’m just afraid…” the words die in his throat and he swallows thickly.

Emma lifts her hand, soothing his cheek. “Tell me, what are you afraid of?”

He peers down at her, smiling weakly. “I’m afraid this power I have will change me, too.”

Emma is stunned he is opening up to her so much. “I don’t think that will happen. As long as you focus on what’s important to you, nothing will be able to change your heart.” Her words are soft and seem to comfort him as he cradles her hand with his and closes his eyes, just appreciating her kindness and the feel of her hand on his cheek.

Emma regales him with stories of her childhood to lighten the mood, and they spend the rest of the morning talking and laughing and just enjoying the other’s presence, trying not to think about the inevitable. Emma has to go back to the harem eventually, but neither is delighted by the idea, so they are determined to soak up as much time together as they possibly can.

Killian is unable to restrain himself from touching her though, kneading her skin under the robe. Emma feels his hand wander down her body and she gladly welcomes his advances. He pulls on the belt of her robe and the material falls open, exposing her midsection. Even though they’re outside, no one can actually see them, there are only his garden, the ocean and the sky in the distance. Killian strokes her breasts, and Emma succumbs to his touch, her body melting into his. She reclines back into his chest, parting her thighs slightly as her folds dampen with arousal. His touch feels so heavenly, even after their prior activities, she can’t get enough of those wonderful, strong hands, how they massage and tease her skin, how they grip her just enough to make her feel wanted and loved, but not enough to hurt her. He moves his hands over her stomach and her thighs, making her utterly weak once more. His fingers glide over her nub and it feels so good, Emma braces herself against his hand. Slowly he moves his fingers a little further until he finds her slit. She is incredibly wet.

He sinks his fingers inside her heat just enough to get the tips of them wet with her nectar and he slides them into his mouth to taste her.

He loves the way she tastes. She can feel him harden beneath her. His hands return to her thighs and he takes his time running his fingers over her slit, sinking his digits inside her. Soon she's slowly thrusting her hips, riding his fingers, soft moans pouring from her lips.

As he's stroking and kissing her and fingering her, he whispers gently in her ear, “I want to replace my fingers with my tongue,” he groans, flicking his thumb over her clit. “I want to taste you, darling. May I?”

Emma gasps at the thought of him using his tongue on her. She has no idea what that would feel like, but at this point, she is so lost in pleasure she's willing to let him do whatever he wants to her. She doesn't hesitate to nod her head.

Carefully he removes his hand from her core and lifts her from his lap and onto the couch. He repositions himself, sliding down to the ground and kneeling in front of her between her legs where he can access her. He opens up her robe more and kisses one of her nipples, which hardens underneath the soft caress of his lips. Emma cards her hands through his hair, unable to close her eyes or look away. She loves how sweet and gentle he is with her. She also likes when he's rough with her, but mostly she loves how he treats her. Her time with him has not been all about him, but her as well. About both of them getting caught up in one other. Of all the things she had expected from the previous evening, she hadn't expected this.

He moves to the other breast, kissing the stiff bud with the same tenderness and affection. He suckles her nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud before releasing it. He slowly moves down her body, leaving a trail of soft kisses in his wake, appreciating every inch of her skin on the way to her aching core. He takes her hips in his hands, pulling her to the edge of the couch and kisses her inner thigh. When he looks up at her, cerulean blue eyes shining with desire and perhaps even love, Emma shudders under his gaze, her face becoming flushed. Of all the men who have feasted their eyes upon her, none of them were as sincere or loving or kind as this man is now. His gaze alone sets her skin ablaze.

She takes a deep breath and continues to watch as he kisses her nub and then her folds. Emma spreads her legs wider for him, her arms the only thing keeping the robe on at this point as she lets them fall to her sides, exposing most of her body, and she can feel the warm autumn breeze sweeping over her. Her folds are glistening in the sun, waiting for him, and he licks his lips in anticipation as his eyes hungrily feast upon her.

Curling his arms under her thighs, he hauls her legs over his shoulders and leans in, running his tongue along her folds. Emma moans, her body melting into the couch. He groans and moves her blonde curls out of the way, opening her up with his fingers and sinking his tongue inside her warmth.

Her whole body shudders.

His tongue is exquisitely soft and warm and she grows wetter by the second as he takes his time stroking and flicking his tongue inside of her over and over. He can taste her flavor and his own come, a heady mixture of tang and salt on his tongue.

Moaning and writhing above him, she moves her hands through his hair, not forcing him into her, just indulging the feeling of his head between her thighs. “Killian…” she manages, her voice completely wrecked and shattered. She can feel her orgasm building deep within her and encourages him, not wanting him to stop.

And he doesn't, his tongue is too focused on giving her unimaginable pleasure, and at one point he reaches a hand to her breast and squeezes the soft weight and pinches her nipple.

He fondles her breasts, continuously switching from one to the other, his fingers pinching her pink buds while flicking his tongue against the pink bud in his mouth. He gives her a long broad lick and sucks her clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over and over, moving it back and forth. She is close to exploding right there on the terrace couch, the pleasure is overwhelming, and he is intent on sending her over the edge.

She tugs on his hair, her body singing in pleasure, a slew of praises tumbling from her lips. The sensations overtaking her are becoming too much and she knows she's on the cusp of another orgasm. The feeling is all too familiar to her now. She starts to move her hips against his mouth, craving for more of what he's doing to her. Her excitement increases dramatically and she wants to come. Badly. She wants to come all over his face as he brings her to her mind-numbing demise.

She is so soft, and her nectar tastes so sweet and exquisite on his tongue, he doesn't want to stop. But he knows she's on the cusp of climaxing in his mouth. As much as he wants to continue, he also wants to give her sweet release. He's torn. He’s sucking her clit into his mouth again, flicking his tongue rapidly over her hard bud and slipping a finger into her heat, and then another. She is so slick, it takes no effort to move his fingers inside of her.

He can tell she's slipping into the next dimension as he’s feasting on her, fingering her and fondling her breasts, all in a similar rhythm and speed. It's a lethal combination and it's enough to bring her to the edge.

Her body starts to tense and he looks up at her, watching his goddess, glorying the way her head falls back, lips slightly parted as she moans, her face and chest all flushed and rosy, golden hair cascading over her shoulders in the sun. She is so beautiful and lovely like this. He doesn't want this to end, but continues to lick up her sweet flavor and suck on her pink pearl while moving his fingers in and out of her warmth. Increasing his speed, he brings her higher and higher until her whole body convulses and she arches her back, letting out a deep moan the entire palace can probably hear as she orgasms in his mouth, her lovely ambrosia coating his chin and cheeks. Her body trembles for a moment as the rush of her climax washes over her. He feels both of her hands on the sides of his face, pulling him up toward her, and he obeys, touching his forehead to hers.

She whispers her thanks and kisses him roughly, tasting herself on her lips. When they break for air, he stands before her, stretching out his legs and licking his lips and fingers. The sight alone makes her whimper. His robe is open, exposing his lean torso, well-muscled thighs and his hard, aching cock which springs from a patch of dark curls. His length glistens in the sun with her nectar from their earlier activities, and her mouth salivates. She can't wait to taste him.

She reaches for him and strokes his rather large erection, feeling the tip of him and wipes the precum around the velvety head and down his shaft with her thumb. God, he feels good in her hand, her core surges with warmth and she’s clenching her thighs together to suppress her excitement. She doesn't think she can take him again so soon anyway, she's still aching and pleasantly sore. “How is that, My Sultan?”

“Gods,” he groans, his hips rutting into her touch. “So good.”

She stands and kisses him deeply, moving her hand up and down his length, keeping him hard. It's her turn to take control. Though she wants to guide him to her entrance and feel his gorgeous cock inside her once more, soreness be damned, she strongly fights the urge.

She’s on her knees before he has a chance to protest, which she's sure he wouldn't if he could, lightly suckling his velvety head and taking his slick cock in her waiting mouth. She moans around his length, tasting the saltiness of his precum and the tanginess of her own nectar on his shaft.

Now, Emma may not have experience in this department, but she's seen erotic paintings of women in this same position, taking their men with their mouths. Judging by the way Killian’s mouth falls open when she’s peering up at him, the drawn-out groans crawling from his throat and the way his eyes roll to the back of his head as he slides his hands through her hair, she knows she must be doing something right. So she uses his reactions as her guide; the more positive his response, the more she increases the particular ministration.

She licks up and down his length and draws him in her mouth again—the thing he seems to respond to with the most enthusiasm—repeating this action over and over, and soon he’s moving his hips toward her, seeking more friction. He never takes his eyes off her and their eyes are locked in a heated gaze as he cradles her jaw in his hands, not forcing her on him, just delighting the way her muscles move every time she draws him into her mouth as he watches his cock disappear past her lips. She quickens the pace and takes him deeper, as deep as she can, and since his cock is big, not that she has anything to compare it to other than what she has seen in paintings, she can’t quite fit him all the way in her mouth, so she uses her hand, pumping him lightly to compensate. Soon, he’s singing his praises as his muscles convulse, and his seed pours into her mouth. Emma moans in delight at tasting what he has been pouring inside of her both that morning and last night. She swallows it down, savoring the salty flavor on her tongue and the way his sticky cum slides down her throat.

Killian's legs are shaking underneath him, so they return to the couch. He holds her in his arms, both of them taking a while to relax and compose themselves, luxuriating in the aftermath of their love. Eventually, they stand up and play two games of chess on the terrace. The first, she plays cautiously, thinking he might let her win again, but she only sets up her own failure and loses. She takes the second round from him with reckless abandon, and he laughs as she checks his queen.

“I have never been beaten by a woman at chess, love, you are the only one with such a privilege.”

“Well, you should get used to being beaten by me,” she says with a smirk.

“We shall see about that,” he teases playfully. He stands from his seat, pulling her into his arms and kissing her breathlessly, but they both know there is truth in her words; he very much has his hands full with this one, and not just literally. Emma turns in his arms and they both stare out over the sea, just enjoying each other’s warmth and presence.

The morning is quite like a dream and neither wish to wake, but eventually Mother Superior sends a servant for her, pulling them back to reality.

Killian actually pouts, much like a ten-year-old boy does when playtime is over. He has to get back to his imperial duties, but he’d much rather spend the entire day with her. He dreads parting ways with her as they both dress in the clothes they had worn the evening prior.

“Will you return tonight?” he asks hopefully as they reach the door where Nemo is waiting for Emma. Killian's eyes adore her as he wraps his arms around her and buries his face in the crook of her neck, peppering sweet kisses over her skin.

“You have to officially summon me,” she laughs, and at the same time does not want to leave his embrace at all.

He lifts his head, smirking suggestively, causing Emma’s cheeks to burn crimson. “You will be summoned.”

Her heart flutters at the promise. “Good.”

Before she knows what’s happening, he swoops her up in his arms and strides over the threshold, carrying her down the hall. Nemo follows behind them, baffled but hiding a small smirk. Emma is both surprised and amused as he actually carries her to her suite. The guards do not dare to flinch.

“You know I can walk with my own two feet,” she whispers in a mild attempt of protest.

“I know, swan, but I’d much rather carry you.”

The maidens of the harem all gasp when he appears with her in his arms, and they immediately stop what they’re doing and bow their heads as Killian carries Emma upstairs and into her chamber. She is swooning when he puts her down, and it’s only partly caused by the flight.

“I will see you tonight, my princess,” he bids her farewell.

Just when Emma thinks she cannot possibly melt anymore than she already has, he presses a kiss to the back of her hand, and she’s surprised she is not a puddle of water by the time he leaves her. To think, she had been so nervous prior to their evening together, but now she is floating in blissful happiness, carefree as a bird soaring through the sky.

After he’s gone, Emma stands on her terrace and gazes over the sea, appreciating the pleasant afternoon breeze. Still high on the euphoria flooding through her veins, she thinks about his kisses and soft caresses, growing warm at the memories. She begins to wonder if she is in love or if she is simply wanton. But she knows she had enjoyed more than the physical aspect of their time together, so perhaps she is both. But her reality is shattered when it occurs to her that the power she has over him may only be temporary. Even if she becomes pregnant with his child, he will eventually have to seek out another concubine to take to his bed. Women are forbidden from engaging in intercourse while they are pregnant, for they may hurt the baby and have a miscarriage. And Killian may have waited three full moons for her, but nine, give or take? There is no way a Sultan as young and healthy as he is will wait that long. Tears prick her eyes at the thought.

Even with the power she has now and the power she will gain as his wife, she will have to accept the fact that he may eventually summon one of the other concubines, and possibly one of her friends, one who may bear him another child and become his Kadin as well. She will have to be happy with this and pretend as though it doesn't hurt painfully. But the mere thought is suffocating. As a woman who has grown up in the western part of the world, she was taught monogamy and was raised by her parents with the belief that there is only one person for everyone, and if they are lucky, one true love. As a young girl, she could not have fathomed the idea that one man could have four wives. The thought makes her heart constrict, but she knows she will have to find a way to accept this.

Emma leaves the terrace and heads to her private bath where her bath attendants remove her clothing, sponge her with warmed, perfumed water, and place a robe over her shoulders. Dismissing them, she returns to her chamber, relaxing upon her couch.

“You returned late," Elsa comments with a smirk and plops down next to her. “How was your time with him?”

Emma blushes, a blissful smile overtaking her lips. “It was….” she pauses, not knowing exactly how to describe it in words, “it was magical, I suppose. He was kind and sweet and… he took care of me.” Her cheeks burn red as she tries to explain her night with the Sultan without giving too much away.

Elsa beams, her eyes flickering with excitement. “I'm so happy for you,” she replies, and Emma knows her friend is being sincere. If there is anyone Emma can trust in the harem, it's Elsa. They talk some more and then Elsa returns to her oda, allowing Emma to take a nap.

A few hours later, she receives the summons from the Sultan, and her friends and some other maidens gather around the Ikbal excitedly in her suite. They sit around the couch and cushions, gushing as they ask her about her evening with the Sultan and are served sherberts, fresh fruit and coffee.

Emma doesn’t go into too much detail, but she is smiling the entire time, her eyes twinkling with pride and admiration as she speaks of her time with him.

“Do you think you will become pregnant with his prince?” Anna asks curiously.

Emma pats her belly and blushes. “I have no way of knowing that yet, but I am hopeful.”

The Chief Eunuch comes bearing gifts for Emma from the Sultan, in honor of their first night together, silencing the pleasant chatter and giggles.

“My lady, most blessed and fortunate, I bring you gifts from our Lord, Sultan Killian. May he live a thousand years! He sends these tokens of his affection for you and asks that you join him this evening at the ninth hour.”

The Eunuch presents her with many gifts—bags of gold coins, beautiful shawls and jewelry he had made himself, because, like all Neverland Sultans, he has many skills. She receives some gold bracelets, a necklace, matching earrings and a heart-shaped ruby ring that she slips proudly on her finger, admiring it reverently with wide eyes and a soft smile. She is overwhelmed with emotions, still feeling their several encounters of passion deep in her bones, the excitement of the moment and the possibilities of the future. Her fear of him taking another concubine is temporarily forgotten. Another eunuch accompanies Nemo and presents her with an elaborate treasure chest with more gifts, including beautiful clothing, hairbrushes and much more. Emma is stunned and speechless by the Sultan’s generosity.

“Tell our gracious lord his slave thanks him for these lovely gifts and I shall obey his command and join him at the ninth hour this evening.” She knows he doesn’t consider her as a slave, but she also knows it’s better to keep that to herself.

The Eunuchs bow and leave Emma's suite. Her friends seem happy for her, though Merida brutally reminds her this may only be temporary and the Sultan will eventually summon another maiden; Emma wonders if she is hiding her jealousy. Elsa, however, scolds the redhead and tells her not to spoil this moment, but Emma knows Merida is right. She must not let this all go to her head, because it can all be taken from her as quickly as it had appeared.

Nevertheless, Emma will always remember her first time with Sultan, the night she had given him her maidenhood, with a twinkle in her eye and a blissful smile on her face.

Tagging: @andiirivera @kingofmyheart14 @courtorderedcake @teamhook @onceuponaprincessworld @nikkiemms @followbatb @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @snowbellewells @artistic-writer @ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @lovepurplepumpkins @kiwistreetswan @therooksshiningknight @deathbycaptainswan @tiganasummertree @superchocovian @emeraldwitches @melly326

[mrsunderhill678]

Yo, yo, yo, I be writin’

"Life is a workout, pace yourself, be free, and find joy in what you love. In all our difference we're only human, looking for something to keep us going, looking for a purpose, but we don't have to look for purpose. Often, it finds us.” - Debby Shaw

“I have found purpose in everything that I love.” - Debby Shaw

“The world around us has suffered, we, have suffered, but look at us, still beautiful, still happy, still free. I refuse to believe that this is the end, this isn't war, this is love, and we needn't fight. The grass and flowers may rise again if we just keep going. The sun will rise, the rain will come, the flowers will bloom. All we have to do is love. The trees give us oxygen, the sun gives us warmth, generosity is the structural core of life, is it not? Love everyone, strangers, family and foes alike, because everyone can find the sun.” Debby Shaw

“I've seen what this world has to offer, not cruelty, not darkness, love. That is all it offers, the world doesn't offer pain, people, do. All the world's ever done is been fair to us, who are we to blame it for warlord's actions?” - Hope Saxton

“The sea is merciful as it is cruel, it is the same with men.” - Salvatore O’Malley

“I cannot trust a soul, the waves have ears and the fish whisper of demise and the shark ridin' the tide.” - Salvatore O’Malley

“The sea has no quarrels, only the death of those who raid her, many a watery grave has she claimed, fishermen, pirates and divers alike have succumbed to her wrath. To the sea's wrathful tide we are equal, in death we are fair.” - Salvatore O’Malley

“I have seen blood spill in the ocean only to disappear in the waves, at sea, all men are forgotten. It was a lawless wasteland out in the seas, no government could condemn us, but we certainly condemned each other. I suppose the whole Earth is a lawless sea, now, we condemn each other whilst condemning ourselves.” - Salvatore O’Malley

“No man lived after life, except for in the tales that were told.” - Salvatore O’Malley

“All history one day becomes myth, I've learned.” - Salvatore O’Malley

“A wolf is only as strong as his master, so shalt you fear the wolf that leads his own pack?” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“Odin gives us life, the seers give us death, they give us fate, and isn't fate all death is?” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“We are blades and shields, wolves and sheep, shepherds of flocks that will bleed.” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“I have watched many a man fall in crimson, and never have I seen black blood fall. Do you think it a coincidence that no man of black blood has ever fallen? Why is it, on the battlefield, every puddle is red?” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“Valhalla has yet to welcome me, for I am far from done. I am too cold for Hellheim's snow, too cruel for the heathen's hell.” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

"You're turning sheep into dogs thinking they won't bite back at the hand that scolds them." - Valskirith Deskgrottir

"We are all victims to the seers and the gods, Faim. We are dead before we ever hit the ground, hung from the seers threads of fate." - Valskirith Deskgrottir

“Goodbye, Stanley Wellberry, father of Ethan, king of a dead bloodline.” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“Even in death I shall be a lingering nightmare for all who witnessed my wrath.” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“In the essence of memory I am immortal.” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“Ethan's biggest fear is losing you, but one day he will learn that there is more to fear than the losing of one's father, after all. He could become me. I, could be his fate.” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“I do not fight the inevitable, Stanley, I only seek to survive as long as fate allows.” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“Death came to me as Valkyries in the burning sky.” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“I don't seek to conquer mercy, but in all my days I shall never give it.” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“Many a dynasty have fallen for a crime so simple as mercy, and I will not be the dynasty that falls for a single life.” - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

“Fear and bravery is the defining factor between a soldier and coward, one would think, but in life I've learned it takes both fear and bravery to have courage.” - Isiah McGregor

“Death while living isn't the end, for we can rise again, we can go from heroes, to villains, to a redeemed man all in the span of a few years. It's funny, how we're always evolving but it never seems like we are. Strange how time works, it never feels different, but when you look back, everything's changed.” - Isiah McGregor

“For some, I have regretfully been the day of reckoning, and in a single second I changed the pitch of my tune.” - Isiah McGregor

“To me, every whispered lie sounds like a half truth, those in power like to lie, it's all that keeps them powerful, after all. Fear is their weapon, they pump it in our lungs, but the fear churns, and it burns in the lungs, and as it goes through the veins and enters the heart, the fear becomes courage, my friend. You cannot weaponize fear, for it shall one day be used as a shield and turned against you, made anew as a soldier's bravery.” - Isiah McGregor

“I can't be sure if I'm the curse or the cure, all I know is that I am crooked in my own little way.” - Isiah McGregor

“I am a poison to myself, drivin' on a road that don't got room for two, only me, myself and I, what a lonely, broken life it is.” - Jarvis McGregor

“I thought solitary confinement was hell, but then I had to live with myself. I can never escape who I am, and with this blood on my hands? That's all I want to fucking do. All I am has faded to black and I've become the very thing I sought to destroy. Powerful.” - Jarvis McGregor

“They say to roll with life's punches, but why would I do that when the fists only ever hit others?” - Jarvis McGregor

“The fires of war rise in this new land, the smoke was only the beginning, and I fear extinction of honor is the end. Humanity has survived many events that threatened to end it, but what if we're our own undoing? We don't all have to die for humanity to perish, all that has to die is our humanity, and these days, I see more and more men throwing it away.” - Mariellus Shackles

“We're fighting a war of ourselves, with guns aimed to kill the soul, not the man.” - Mariellus Shackles

 “In the blood of man we stand, covered in the remnants of human decency, why do we strive to end ourselves? We only have one life, why waste it warring with people who are no different than you?” - Mariellus Shackles

“I look in the mirror, and try to find a metaphor for my pain, I speak to myself in riddles so I can avoid the reality of my life.” - Mariellus Shackles

“I refuse to stand idly by as the last sparks of humanity blink out, so long as I'm still here, I will fight. Because so long as a spark can start a wildfire, the glowing kindling of humanity still has a fighting chance.” - Mariellus Shackles

“I have constricted myself in the darkest of arts, if flowers were to bloom from my grave they'd only ever be black roses. I am no white rose, this red splattered on my petals is no shade of love. The only way to break this curse is to end myself, but I fear there will be no end. I will watch the sun devour the universe in it's heat and still I'll be suffering.” - Marisha Diablos 

“God is not with us, he never was, all he ever was is an answer we gave ourselves for the uncertainty of death. I've learned he's as much comfort as holding my own hand.” - Kendell Soro

“In my time of need there were no angels with trumpets, there was no heavenly voice speaking to me from above, all I ever heard was the screeching of tires on asphalt and my mother's cries for help. When a boy watches his mother die, it's only natural for him to turn to higher powers for help. I prayed and I prayed over her, I pleaded and begged, but she faded, right in front of me. How is it that my memories of her hold only pain? I can remember my mother's smile, but I can't remember her laugh. I can remember her singing me to sleep, but all that my mind clings to is the nightmares that followed.” - Kendell Soro

“If God loved all, life would be fair, and yet, look at the world now. Godless.” - Kendell Soro

“I am a ghost, haunting my own grave, I stand at my gravestone and loom, reminiscing on days past, lingering on all the memories that harmed me. It's strange, how I continue to run my fingers against the blood on the wall, knowing it's my own, yet I find no solace in that.” - Aaron Cloud

“I look into my father's eyes and see a soldier, I look into my sister's eyes and see that small glimmer of hope. But I look in the mirror and can't see myself, I'm transparent, look through me and see my intentions are pure but my heart is rotten.” - Aaron Cloud

“Blood has poured onto the streets of my home, the streetlights setting it aglow, it scares me, how this world makes violence look like a painting. The way the moonlight spattered across it and the way the light from the street lamps made it glimmer. The world made a haunting memory beautiful, and I ask the world why? Why make these memories of mine so beautiful yet so haunting?” - Aaron Cloud

“I suppose, all I can ever do is linger at my grave, running my fingers across the blood on the name and stone. All it shall ever read is Aaron Cloud, Lost Boy of Neverland, a loving son, a broken man. May he rest in peace for all his days, may he find peace in the fact that he is a lost boy, never was he Hook's, never was he Death's, he was always a boy amongst the stars, but all the grave does is lie to me, alas, it does not know, I haunt my own grave, I am not lost, I'm found, and that's what frightens me.” - Aaron Cloud

“Blood for blood spilled is no justice at all, yet it is all I ever do. I call myself a man of justice, a man of the world, but I have learned I am simply angel to some, demon to others. For those who deserve it I am death, and for those who deserve the kindness I am shelter from the cold.” - Hargrove Solomons

“Nature sings, the birds fly overhead, and light spatters the leaves, creating sun lit scales of green and Autumn. I have been acquainted with nature all my life, at the age of ten I learned to take life with a bow, at first my footsteps were clumsy and left all the wildlife fleeing, but now to the Earth and the creatures that live within it, I am shade. I follow the wind and become one with nature, the skills of the hunt are dangerous in my blood-stained hands, for the death of man is simply one step over a deer.” - Hargrove Solomons

“I walk with a crumbled step and broken shoulder, trying to lift the weight of burdened justice. And yet, all I can do is continue to follow the wind, and trust that in nature, I shall find home. For years she has guided me, hidden me in the leaves and shades of her skirt. I am a part of nature, a flower still waiting to bloom, but within my heart is a dark poison, tearing me away from within. And I fear before I know it, I shall topple as the tree that falls in the forest, but makes not a sound.” - Hargrove Solomons

“I've spent my life digging up secrets, I suppose the truth haunts everyone who digs it up. I have snapped photos that brought secrets to life, written history and truths on a single blog post, that no one would ever read. It always felt as if I meant nothing to the world, all my hard work, and no one was ever brought to justice. All I've ever wanted was to do right by the world, even when it never did right by me.” - Marjenko Bradwick

“My single weapon is the truth, I don't need a blade, or a gun, just a camera, a pen and a little bit of bravery!” - Marjenko Bradwick

“I know so much yet feel that I know so little.” - Marjenko Bradwick

“The wind to me sounds like howling, and I always wonder if it's Miss Brianna Jackson. I can't find peace in nature, I can't find peace, because I can't find answers. So I suppose, all I can ever do is dig.” - Marjenko Bradwick

“I am alone, sitting on my own throne of dirt, I am the suspect to my darkest secrets, and the subject to my own rule.” - Rogeno Damascus

“I can look back and see snapshots of my life, but nothing more. At the age of five, hiding from my mother and father's drunken rage. Eight years old and riding my bike, praying for some reason, that the cars would catch me.” - Rogeno Damascus

“I see blood dripping from my fingertips, alas it is my own, but still I call it murder.” - Rogeno Damascus  

“Monsters are real, but they wear our skin, they have pearly white teeth, badges and suits.” - Rogeno Damascus

“Bullets fly and good men die, but despite that, we push on, don't we? Whoever said you can break the human spirit forgot we don't break, we learn. You can't really break the human spirit, you can rough it up some, leave it scarred, but it never really shatters.” - Clayton Red

“While everyone's out here waging pointless wars, I'm fighting the war that matters. The man who fights against the dark, is the man who will one day know the light. I could say I miss the days I was safe, but I don't. If I wasn't fighting the good fight, where would I be?” - Clayton Red

“Everyone's gots to pay eventually, 'spose I paid in my own blood. I can see the charred pieces 'a my heart flutterin' in the wind like a burnin' map ta lost hope, and all I can do is watch, and stare blankly as every piece 'a ash and cinder fades away inta the desolate night.” - Marrows Pennington

“Behind me are souls I din'it save, people I failed, so when you lie my body in the ground, just remember, I'm nuthin' but one 'a the hearts I broke.” - Marrows Pennington

“My map ta hope's lost, deep in the woods, buried 'neath the shallow graves I dug.” - Marrows Pennington

“If these scars could speak they'd damn me, remindin' me I made em myself.” - Marrows Pennington

 “All I request on my dyin' day is a beautiful sunset, painted every color 'a the soul.” - Marrows Pennington

“I've been drowning for a long fifteen years, it's no surprise I finally succumbed to the tide.” - Grimm Flowers

“I have wrongly slain many, not in the sense that they lie below the dirt, but in the sense that I have damaged them so deeply, so horribly, that they can't honestly say they're the same person anymore. In these soldiers I created I don't see a man, or a women, I see a reflection of me, a soul lost amongst the dead. They look back at me with eyes so blank, and yet, it's always as if I'm looking into a mirror. I've blown smoke into my mirror and it's no longer clear, I've lost myself, and I fear the man I am. What am I to do, when the world is against me and I'm against myself?” - Grimm Flowers

“I have drowned in his delusions and still, miles away from the tide, I sputter up water.” - Grimm Flowers

“They say salvation is for the sinners, so tell me why it is that in the end, all I can see is the mistakes I made and the people I wronged? Why do I deserve forgiveness? It wouldn't save those I've slain. Tell me what it would do for them. Look at them, an army of unwell minds and battered souls, kneeling to their king and calling him saint. But no saint walks into a field of lambs and leaves with a trail of blood-stained bootprints in his wake. No saint ever called his sins the greater good.” - Grimm Flowers

“ I'm just a reflection of all I've broken.” - Grimm Flowers

 “I live under a code of honor, he who lives by the blade dies by the blade, but if you live in honor, you die in honor.” - Admiral Jeffroy

“I've learned it's not who we are that matters, but how hard we're willing to fight for the things that do.” - Admiral Jeffroy

“If I die by the sword, so be it. So long as I die defending those I love with it.” - Admiral Jeffroy

“They say innocence is gone, that we're cruel beasts of black hearts and blood. But innocence still seeps in the land's veins. The rivers still run, the trees still grow, the birds still sing, and so still there is innocence. There is purity. The world was not built for hate, it was not built for greed, it was built for all those who will fight for it.” - Admiral Jeffroy

“If I am to go down, I shalt go down fighting, baring my teeth and defending those I love, for if I am to die, all those I love, shalt not.” - Admiral Jeffroy

“I'm lost in love, not because I have it, but because I no longer do. I wander this somber maze of dying optimisms and dreams, hoping to find the one I love yet knowing, she's nothing but a cold case. She's fallen from my arms and faded to cinders around me, I can stumble through the dark all I want... But I'll never reach out and grasp her hand. This love I feel no longer lifts me, it no longer makes me feel like I'm dancing, floating as if I was light as air. I suppose gravity finally caught up to me as I danced among the stars.” - Amy Callahan

“Though they stand right beside me, I feel as if I am miles away.” - Amy Callahan

“I can't think of her smile without breaking mine.” - Amy Callahan

“The weight of death lies on my shoulders like a crow, keeping me downtrodden, bloody and begging for death.” - Devon Blake

“My regrets keeps me alive, somehow, I'm running from myself and my demons, and the moment someone asks what's wrong? They'll catch up to me” - Devon Blake

“Years of my life have gone by and I ain't even lived em, I've just stared at the fire wondering what it'd be like to burn.” - Devon Blake

“I could tell you I'm swinging from a noose, or I'm facing the demons of my mind, but my pain wasn't ever poetry was it? All the miserable men in history wrote about it, described their pain with golden coated words and prose. But I suppose my pain's just that, pain.” - Devon Blake

“Don't tell me I'm strong for facing my pain, tell me I shouldn't have to fucking face it.” - Devon Blake

“Angels and devils are myths, spun from tales of saints and sinners, and often I wonder, what myth would they spin of me? For I am death, a red angel, a crimson wolf, a man of bloodied blade and corpses at his feet.” - Mario Wopinski

“I have found beauty in all the chaos, the way the smoke rises into the night sky, the way the blood splatters on the snow, always was I a wolf, bound to become an artist of death. I met violence at the age of eight, death splattered before me in every color of my paint box. The orange of the flame dripping into the shades of the night, the screams and the howls were nothing short of music. A melody for my heart.” - Mario Wopinski

“The moon will always rise crimson in the presence of a man covered in the blood of wolves and sheep alike.” - Mario Wopinski

“I am so covered in the blood of wolves that I became one, every memory was soon dripping with crimson saturation and everything that once haunted me now sang a melody of screams.” - Mario Wopinski

“We were always meant to burn, the sun is destined to show us the fire's of hell. Tell me, friend, where do you believe the myths of hell came from? Do you not think it was a warning from future generations of scorched souls? Every myth has it's roots buried in truths.” - Mario Wopinski

“We were all good men, once, but violence does not discriminate, I am proof of that rule.” - Mario Wopinski

“He who fears death never lived. I have stared death in the eye on many occasion, but all it's ever done is passed me by and taken those I love. I've learned death is cruel, but nothing more than a part of nature. I can't damn it for simply existing, it is simply a predator, hunting it's prey.” - Azariah Oatman

“Life has taught me as many lessons as death, I have learned to cherish what I have, and not to fear what I may lose.” - Azariah Oatman

“In the end, we one day lose everyone, whether it is us or they that leaves this life. I try not to fear the inevitable, only embrace it.” - Azariah Oatman

“Only those with huntin' howls and cries will live ta see the day.” - Descarlo Frakwitz

“Ain't no holy man livin' to see the end 'a this blood age, hunters and wolves prowl and the sheep just ain't safe no more. Even the shadows hunt you, friend. Every speck of life and light has been drained from the veins of Mother Nature, and all that's left is the blood she bleeds. I'd watch my back if I was you, cuz when even the shadows huntcha, the night is fatal, now ain't it?” - Descarlo Frakwitz

“The light's slippin' through your fingers, and in a touch that once healed, has come the Midas touch, but you ain't makin' no gold. The Midas touch is 'a death and blood, my friend, death and blood.” - Descarlo Frakwitz

“The sun will rise again, as it always do, but that don't matter when men like me still prowl. The wolves ain't afraid 'a the day no more, we're snarlin' with blood on our teeth and sins lyin' ragged on our fur. We are the beasts that left Eden.” - Descarlo Frakwitz

“I believe men like me were born to suffer, men whom are untethered to reality often are. A man once said I think, and therefore I am, but it is my belief that I bleed, I suffer, and therefore I am.” - Melias Skinwalker

 “I am the boy and the monster under the bed, the father scaring away the monster, and the mother holding the child. Isn't it strange, how we can be that which terrifies us to our very core, and the very thing that keeps us still tethered?” - Melias Skinwalker

“Kings and Queens are long dead, and yet still we believe we can achieve a dynasty. The human race's head rolls across the engraved royal tile, and yet still, we believe a decapitated race can find a messiah. We're scrambling for scraps and thrones, crowns and rust.” - Melias Skinwalker

“I do not fear death, for I have already lived it. I know what I've done in the dark, I know what I've done in the light, I am so damned that I fear God won't give me hell, he won't give me heaven, he'll give me darkness. No tomorrow, no today, just a blanket of shade and blood.” - Ben Stilts

“Life is the longest thing we'll experience other than damnation.” - Ben Stilts

“God told us thou shalt not kill, and so we hunted creatures we believed were below us. God said thou shalt not steal, so we stole land and claimed it ours. It's only human nature to find our own way. We are dogs and wolves, ripping through the seams of our own flesh, and I imagine God brought about the rapture only to change his mind.” - Ben Stilts

“Earth is nothing short of hell, these days. And you ask where men go when they die? You start over. Same pain, same life, over and over, that is hell, my friend.” - Ben Stilts

“This blood on my hands does not scare me, I kill, and therefore I am. I butcher, and therefore I am. In this world it's always been kill or be killed, bleed or be bled, and so I suppose, the only commandment we shalt follow, is kill, or the day shalt come when you will not be.” - Ben Stilts

“I stand in the ashes of my blood right, I hold a broken crown, it's long since rusted, but still, my dynasty stands. They say I am greedy, cruel, blood-stained, and it's true, that is why they have died for such treacherous words tumbling off their tongue.” - Idallius Vanratten

“They shall bow to me in all my power, in all my glory, no man who ever stood in the face of evil remained the same. And I suppose I change every man I come across. My memory is fatal.” - Idallius Vanratten

“No man shall knock this crown from my head, this treachery is my blood right, and through blood I earned it. He who wishes to wear my broken crown would have to cut my head from my neck and watch it roll. Only to realize the same shalt be done to him. A relentless cycle, tyranny is. One tyrant falls, the man who killed him becoming the very man he swore to destroy. Tyranny is me, I suppose, and for he who wishes to kill me, become me.” - Idallius Vanratten

“What is a ghost but a capturing of pain in a single moment, a tragedy doomed to repeat? All we ever were is photographs, snapped in the moments that forever changed us.” - Holmes Perwitz

“I'm a specter of every lie I ever told, of every person I ever hurt.” - Holmes Perwitz

 “If I could trade every tomorrow for just one ray of sunlight, I would. But the sun goes right through me and burns the shadow behind me.” - Holmes Perwitz

“I have lied time and time again to keep myself afloat, but in the end, I'm just another soul in Ran's net, vying for the surface, clawing at the waves, doomed to remain nothing else but a drowned specter of lies and deceit.” - Holmes Perwitz

“I'm a broken boy, with no memories to warm me, and I've long since learned, it's cold standing under my father's shadow. The sun don't shine on him, so the sun don't shine on me.” - Holmes Perwitz

“I want to strip the weight of mortality from my veins, I fear death in all it's glory. I wish to carve my name into the oak of history, but no stars will be named after me, no constellations shall twinkle in my image, I am not eternal.” - Agrezzor

“I am so damned, so ugly and hateful, this world has told me who I am, and through all this death, I must accept it.” - Agrezzor

“This world was not made for creatures like me, my mortality is like the burning wick of a candle, waxy regret and sin dripping down me, this flame burning me down until I am nothing but a puddle of wax and then, nothing at all.” - Agrezzor

“What a somber tale, the story of the demon king. Oh Aggrezor, oh Aggrezor, hallowed be your name, they chant, yet all I can hear are the cries of every man I've wronged echoed in the chants of a name that oh so sadly belongs to me.” - Agrezzor

“Death is no journey, trust me, I have been through it in all my festered treachery, though it is no journey, trust me when I say, it is one you will embark on, and it is no choice of your own.” - Edward Shawcross

“It's the human condition to fight for your life, limb for limb, heart for heart, scars are earned simply through living. We were born and bred to suffer.” - Edward Shawcross

“Do you think the wolf apologizes to the sheep? Do you think the lion weeps for the gazelle? No animal ever felt regret for that which it had to do to live, so why do we?” - Edward Shawcross

“Monsters exist, my friend, they are all around you, selling your car, bidding you good day in the morning, and sleeping next to you, tangled in your sheets. Monsters are just like you, my friend, just like me, for to be a monster, to be a beast, is simply the human condition.” - Edward Shawcross

“All of me is lost in all of her, she's my end and my beginning, and she's the only reason that I can stare up at the stars and realize, they light up the darkness of every cold night I've ever lived.” Teresa Vandeblossom

“The Earth never cared who we were, the stars never shone for us, I used to think it was all coincidence, the way moonlight shined on a the chipped glass, the way the sunlight reflected the water's edge. But I've found that nothing is a coincidence, there's always a reason, and sometimes all it takes to find the light is a little bit of darkness.” - Teresa Vandeblossom

“Riell has me star struck, I gaze into her eyes and I see the future, I see a million stars burning in the nights of her eyes, and when she places her hand on my heart, and tells me its hers, I know what it is to be complete. How is it she gave me my life back? She picked up the broken pieces of my life and taped them together one by one, somehow making a stained glass mosaic of the ugly pieces of my past. The sun now shines on me, and maybe the stars don't shine for us, maybe there are no constellations in the sky of our names, but in our love we're eternal. In each other's arms we're free and that's all we ever needed to be.” - Teresa Vandeblossom

“My whole life I've been stumbling, wondering if I had a purpose, and just before I fell she caught me. She held the weight of me on her shoulders and to her, it weighed nothing. She would carry me on her back and lift me to the heavens if it would ease my suffering.” - Teresa Vandeblossom

“Oh Riell, my beautiful darling, won't you take this dance? Under the starlight, under the glimmer of the moon and the dust of the stars from which we were made, we shall twirl, we shall dance, with smiles on our lips, and stars in our eyes.” - Teresa Vandeblossom

“I would follow her anywhere, into the depths of her heart and the shade hiding between the stars. She is my constellation, my guiding light. When you love someone so much, where else can you hold it but your soul?” - Riell Starstruck

 “The sun can be as damning as the moon if she wishes to be. But I don't care for the danger, so long as Teresa lies on my arm, whispering to me sweet nothings that mean the world to me.” - Riell Starstruck

“If it's not worth damning yourself for, than what's it really worth?” - Riell Starstruck

“I've caught her tears for so long, they've built up in my heart and created a crystal lake.” - Riell Starstruck

“No love is damning, all that ever was is a lie from the devil to twist our perception of God, I suppose. For if he has given me her, with those stars in her eyes and those galaxies in her smile, than how could he be cruel? So Teresa, my darling love, won't you take my hand? Won't you steal my heart, and dance with it, with a smile on your lips, and those stars in your eyes?” - Riell Starstruck

“I think it's time I finally saw eye to eye with myself.” - Merrick Stinson

“I used to look in the mirror every damn day and say, "Ain't no one gonna stop me," but now I look into these bloodshot eyes of mine and realize, I'm the one stopping me. I can't look at myself without the crushing weight of my sins wringing the dark out of my heart.” - Merrick Stinson

“I've been looking for monsters so long I never thought to look in the fucking mirror. I can get on my knees and I can pray, I can fucking pray, "I'm sorry for all I've done," and the lord would strike me down.” - Merrick Stinson

"In my stride there is thunder, and you best know where to place your bet." - Merrick Stinson

"I stand here with no thunder left in my stride, every man who bet on me is losin' their money. So take a swing, you know I can't take no more hits." - Merrick Stinson

"So go on, try to stop me, you'll die trying." - Merrick Stinson

“Look at me, I guess, despite every time I promised you couldn't, you can stop me now." - Merrick Stinson

“I could shed a tear for all I've lost, but it wouldn't bring them back. I've walked a thousand miles without those I love, without those who built me up and carried me through the storm, and so I ask, where are they? For they once stood beside me, and though death has not claimed him, he no longer stands by my side shoulder to shoulder, ready to fight the world.” - Lex Roberts

“Oh broken brother of wicked bones and crimson hands, where art thou? Hell could not contain you, heaven would not welcome you, so I ask, oh brother, why do you never look for salvation where it was always supposed to be? You lost heaven and took hell, why would you ever wish to rip heaven from your own damn hands?” - Lex Roberts

“At least, on this bitter path I have Cecilia, her smile brings light to the darkness for a time. Though I know, my hands have been touched by death, and that is a wound that will never heal. No love can bring the men I've killed back. But so long as I hold Cecilia in my arms, so long as I can carry her on my back and watch her look upon the world in awe, I can smile. If I don't smile, and if I don't fight, then what the hell am I doing?” - Lex Roberts

“I will load my gun and face the world with the bravery I've always had, because if I can face the world, I can face the future.” - Lex Roberts

“ I don't imagine life will get easier, in the long run, but it'll get better.” - Lex Roberts

“I'm outrunnin' karma, and the outlook ain't so good.” - Ezekiel Mathers

“The moment my heart starts to feel I rip it out.” - Ezekiel Mathers

“I'm a broken boy who's broken men.” - Ezekiel Mathers

“I'm a dead man in the sense that I've killed men, and any man who ever killed is a grave. The moonlight illuminates a name on a grave I recognize, cause God damn, it's mine, and ain't no roses blooming at a damned man's grave.” - Ezekiel Mathers

“I could fall to my knees and pray, I could beg for forgiveness, or for some damn semblance of it. But in my heart, I'd know I don't deserve it. Would forgiveness really save me? Would it save those I've wronged?” - Ezekiel Mathers

“I'm sick of myself I suppose, and I'd rather cough myself up than live with the disease. I've spilled blood, coughed it up from my lungs, and it's scary, how easy it is. It gets easier, and easier, until you don't feel nuthin' at all, and that's what kills ya. That lack of feeling, that lack of acknowledgment that the man you just killed had a wife, a family, or that he was someone to someone out there.” - Ezekiel Mathers

“I spose regret kills ya slow, bits and pieces of your humanity fade before just like that, it's gone. And all you can do is stand and fight, cause karma ain't never gonna let you hide. There ain't no shade in regret lane, just blindin' light and souls like me, who spent too long in the dark.” - Ezekiel Mathers

“God hath no love for the man who ripped heaven from his still trembling hands.” - Alexander Deadwood

“I am the single spark in the forest that starts a wildfire, my friend. In my presence, all the deer shall flee, the birds shall stop their song and take cowardly to the sky, and yet, all the trees can do is stay put and burn. Tall and mighty they were, standing sturdy and strong, but now they stand as dead goliaths, reminders that he who stands tall and mighty will one day be nothing but history. To become history you have to die, old friend. No one will remember you for your life, they shall remember you for the bloody end of it.” - Alexander Deadwood

“I am a bad man, filling my chamber with dusk lit regrets of other men. It's their regret that kills them, because I wield it against them.” - Alexander Deadwood

“Lies are so easy to tell, and the best part, is so long as you smile, everyone will believe you! We're foolish creatures, really, trusting a gun because it's not pointed our way. Trusting the flame because it hasn't yet burned us. But trust can be broken, and often, once a man realizes it has been, it's far too late.” - Alexander Deadwood

“I am the color of the wildfire and the smoke in the sky. I am the howls of the deer, and the frantic cries of the birds. I am everything that ever burned, here I stand, tall and might, sturdy and strong, standing as a dead goliath, and a warning to all.” - Alexander Deadwood

“How can you expect me to love and be loved when all the world's done is shown me hate?” - Antointette Ikelfur

“I'm my own worst enemy, spitting insults at myself and clawing at the mirror as if it would kill my reflection. But the only way to kill this pain is to kill me. As it's a part of me, now, these roots of hate have dug deep into my heart, and if I moved them an inch, they'd take my heart along with them. They'd hold it at the top of the tree, taunting me with the bleeding remnants of my heart.” - Antoinette Ikelfur

“Death is a small price to pay, these days. I've killed a hundred men, I'll kill a hundred more, blood spills and no one bats an eye so long as the name of the man slain lies heavy on the bounty boards.” - Adam Everbleed

“You could pray ta the gods if ya want, but I'll send ya to em for a single gold coin.” - Adam Everbleed

“I am such a cold form 'a justice, for centuries I've kilt men and women for a crime so damnin' as bein' accused 'a somethin' they dit not do.” - Adam Everbleed

“The gods have tried to strike me down, but I'm a slippery bastard, twirlin' through the fingers 'a Death as if it was child's play. My heart's got value cause after all these years it still beats.” - Adam Everbleed

“As years go by other years leave, all I remember is the name I found on the grave, and the blood I were meant ta spill.” - Adam Everbleed

“I've defied death, I've twirled and danced my way outta his fingers, but all I can really say is, you won't.” - Adam Everbleed

“Sometimes the only payoff for havin' any faith is when it's tested again and again only for you ta come out on top. But sometimes, ya end up below it.” - Dirken Stake

“I could be immortal for all I done, but I reckon that'd make me immoral.” - Dirken Stake

“I stand here, below my faith, vyin' for it's throne, but I ain't got a got damn clue how I'm 'sposed ta reach it. Cause my past tells me, "Boy, you ain't got no future," Long since have I learned my mind speaks in the language 'a my abuser, my thoughts come from his actions, and even in the silence, I can't escape him. Silence is the punishment you give a sinful man.” - Dirken Stake

“I got faith, I got love, I got strength, but it's in the silence that I hear my damnation.” - Dirken Stake

“Can't heal these scars, only stare at em. Can't put thread through the cuts 'a my heart, cause every time it beats I'd pull the seams and watch the stitches unravel.” - Dirken Stake

“I can look inta Albert's eyes and wonder why 'e loves me, why 'e cares bout me, and sometimes, I do. I really do wonder why. But then he places that hand 'a his on my cheek, kisses my forehead and tells me we'll be okay. And I believe him, in my heart, but my mind is harder ta convince.” - Dirken Stake

“Faith has carried me a long way, 'spose I got ta carry it the rest 'a these miles. Spose I'll carry this cross on my back 'til I collapse, cause if I wanna win, I gotta lead the pack.” - Dirken Stake

“It's bettah to visit a place 'a mournin' then a feast, cause we all die, we all shut our eyes one last time, and as I've learned, death is an important place ta visit, while you're still alive.” - Dirken Stake

“Forgiveness ain't for the weak 'a heart, it's a grueling road most can't take.” - Schiallo Burke

“I's learned that I fear the mornin' more than the night, the night's calm, peaceful, but as I rise I know that the mornin' ain't nuthin' but a reminder 'a all that could go wrong.” - Schiallo Burke

“If I ain't got forgiveness, least I got my drink. It don't bring no joy, don't make me forget, but least it's cold.” - Schiallo Burke

“I can't find myself on the road ta redemption nor forgiveness, the path 'a regret is all I can take without resistance.” - Schiallo Burke

“He says there's a lovin' God out there, but would a lovin' God make me? Would a lovin' God mold me from clay and say, "Good nuff?" Perhaps there is a lovin' God, he just don't love me.” - Schiallo Burke

“I'm just an angel that's fallen from grace, but sometimes, I wonder if I ever had it. My wings are shattered, my halo in pieces 'round me, this ground ain't holy despite the angel that sits 'pon the grass.” - Adraina Belwick

“I've got a heavy heart in my chest, burdened with a love I can't possibly 'ave. She's beautiful and kind, her smile is a light in the darkness, yet she is, the darkness. She's the shadow ta others and the light ta me, and often I wonder, is it wrong ta love her? Is it wrong ta look inta her eyes and see sumthin' other than malice? They say God don't damn love, but would he damn this? Would he damn us?” - Adraina Belwick

“I'm dancin' with the devil and God, is she beautiful. I can't help but wonder, was the devil always this beautiful?” - Adraina Belwick

“She makes me feel like I ain't a fallen angel, like maybe, my halo ain't in shattered pieces around me. I'd bleed out for her, I'd die on the battlefield and leave this world with nuthin' but a lonely grave. But what would I be dyin' for? All my death would ever do is turn her inta a monster. I know some days I'm the only thing holdin' her beast inside back. Am I fallen angel... or am I in love with one? Maybe I fell by her side, maybe I clung ta her as she fell, burnin' in the atmosphere. Per'aps we fell together, we shared our wings and our halo, and now that they's gone, what else can we do, really, other than fall further?” - Adraina Belwick

“The pitch black cascades down my heart and leaves me wondering, am I really human, or am I just a beast, wearin' the skin of the man I was like a ragged shawl of every sin I ever committed?” - Ace Swinton

“How are we supposed ta know peace if we have ta fight for it, huh? It don't make no sense that peace is attained through the fuckin' opposite 'a it. All war ever did was kill men, ain't no survivors, just broken men.” - Ace Swinton

“I can't stand myself, I'm a broken mosaic 'a sin and broken bones, just lookin' for a better reason ta bleed.” - Ace Swinton

“I wonder, if a dementor were ta stand before me, would he look just like me? Or would he be covered in blood? Would he wear a shawl 'a my skin and sin holdin' all the horrors I hide within?” - Ace Swinton

“I'm playin' Russian roulette as if it were a safe game ta play. I tell myself "Just one more bullet Ace, just once more bullet." Then I pull the trigger.” - Ace Swinton

“The world asked me to be myself, but it gave me all Jokers and no Aces. How am I ta play the game with none 'a the right cards?” - Ace Swinton

“I's found myself in chaos, lookin' at my own worst fear in the mirror. And I got'sa wonder, why is it, that whenever I look inta my future, I see myself, covered in blood, raisin' my gun yet again? Is blood my future, or is blood just the end, 'a my future? These days, I can't God damn tell, but so long as I still live I know, all I's gonna smell is blood.” - Ace Swinton

“I was raised on the devil’s back bone, looking for hay in stacks of needles and pins. I stand here with a dozen scars on my palm, all because I searched for purpose when there is none.” - James Swinton

“We're beasts, devils, ghouls and monsters, hiding our teeth, for when we smile, and bare our teeth, it's a warning.” - James Swinton

“I have seen the worst the world has to offer, I stare at my own bloodied hands, after all.” - James Swinton

“My brother once asked how are we supposed to know peace if we have to fight for it. And the answer is quite simple. We'll never earn it. Do you really think, that after all the human race has bloody done, we deserve peace?” - James Swinton

“My brother, you shan't find a better reason to bleed, you'll just bleed. You think that if a dementor stood before you, he would be nothing but a mirror of you? No, no my dear broken, he would be me, covered in the blood of those you love. I am his worst fear. After all, I represent what he could've become, I am the path he didn't quite walk, the miles he didn't quite tread. I am a monument to the sins he didn't have the courage to commit.” - James Swinton

“I am not playing God, though I choose who lives and dies. All it takes is a swing of the hammer, a pull of the trigger. Any man can play God so long as he holds a gun.” - James Swinton

“I am a wicked beast, prowling in the fields, stalking the shepherd that protects the sheep. But oh my brother, shalt thou fear the wolf? The wolf got to the sheep while you were asleep, their howls fill the night and their blood stains the fields you swore to protect. My friend, I am nothing but a looking glass of the devil that made me, but a devil that you know, is worse, then one you don't, after all.” - James Swinton

“Time is the opposer of all, it can whittle mountains and turn rivers into oceans, time is the end and beginning of us all. But we shouldn't spend our lives worrying about time, or how much we have left. For if you worry about time and the end of it, life passes you by. The clock ticks on and you do not.” - Natruin

“This world is a beautiful spectrum of sunlight streaking through the trees and dappled rays of light creating scales on the water's back. Us gods have made something so beautiful, so full of free will and wisdom, things to explore, places to be. The roots of knowledge have dug themselves throughout Heilgravold, asking only to be sought for. Questions and answers hide in your every day life, in the market place or the folds of your curtain's fabric. Answers are everywhere if you only look.” - Natruin

“I have seen humanity at it's worst, but there's always that one man whom's at his best, striving to do something better.” - Natruin

“Mankind has always been something worth fighting for, I do not care if they are below me, I do not care if I live lifespans more than they, in my eyes they are more holy than us. More holy than me. For they were created simply to live. It is from their own choice they decide to do good by the world. Their own choice to make this world a better place. They do not have to be kind, they do not have to love, and yet, they choose to. Isn't it beautiful? With all this wisdom, with all these truths, they chose love.” - Natruin

“Most men will find themselves killed by desire before they ever attain the very dreams that killed them. Dreams, such fickle things, molded by that which is around us. All I have to do to change your dream, is hurt you.” - Borbasli Orgazi

“The circus is a wonderland of broken smiles hidden behind paint, tears woven within the mime's act, and men jumping through flames as if they were the lion. I have seen good men become bad men all because I pushed them a little too far. Can't you see! Can't you see! Life is a grand story and I'm simply the man with the quill! Look at the violence splattered in between the ornate lettering, look at the stains on the corner of the page. Blood is often hidden, my friend, no man is killed in broad daylight.” - Borbasli Orgazi

“Tonight, clowns and jesters shall open fire, the outcasts and the vagabonds shall laugh as the city folk howl and cower!” - Borbasli Orgazi

“We are killers, hidden under thick coats of paint and smiles. Isn't it whimsical, isn't it grand? The violence is only part of the act!” - Borbasli Orgazi

“This is my story, friend, this whimsical, violent little tale. And you know what they say, these violent means have violent ends. These brutal delights have brutal consequences. So sing, my friend, dance and smile! You are a grand masterpiece of broken bones and painted smiles, so act like it!” - Borbasli Orgazi

“In the most miserable of souls I have created life, I have created whimsy and miracles, death and desire. So dream, my friend! Dream! But know, that in the end, it was only ever a nightmare.” - Borbasli Orgazi

“I am an unholy beast, scratching and clawing at the throne of man kind wondering, why were they made dominant, when they can be so easily conquered?” - Sar’Gekath

“I am no god, and yet, I stand here, unholy in such beautiful ways.” - Sar’Gekath

“Tell me, do you walk in the shadows of mad kings and dynasties? Do you stand within the cold shade of men doomed to die? Many a man have died, watched their life flutter by, only to learn, we are all same in the dark. It is the absence of light, after all, and it is my belief that there is no such thing as light, there is simply an absence of the dark.” - Sar’Gekath

“I am flesh, and I am bone, but I cannot bleed. I am of bones that are unbreakable and flesh that is unscarrable. You cannot keep me down, for again I shalt rise, basked in the flames of the hell that made me.” Sar’Gekath

“I am every bad thing that ever happened, every cruel man that ever lived. I am not an evil man, no, I am the very concept of evil, wrapped up in a vessel of bones that shalt not break, flesh that shalt not be cut, and blood that shall never spill. My heart beats black, for it was born of evil, and salvation was never an option.” - Sar’Gekath

“Have you ever wanted to be happy, but refrained from it because you knew, your joy would cost others? I used to feel that way, because only in violence did I find joy, only in the spilling of blood. There was always something wrong with me, my mind always had been a lion, blood dripping down his chin, joy found in his eyes during only the hunting hours of the night.” - Jack Karelwood

“Among the freaks and the vagabonds I know my place, I am the mad jester king, the fool with a crown attained through no trickery.” - Jack Karelwood

“He came to me in my darkest of nights, blood on my brow, anger in my veins, and he told me I could be everything I ever wished to be. He told me among the wild ones I would finally know home, that in the circus, we're all damned, following a siren's song that leads to death.” - Jack Karelwood

“Fire can be calming as it can be damning, it is the same with man. We have the power to calm, the power to heal, but in those same hands, is the power to kill.” - Jack Karelwood

“Life is all a bad joke, those in power can make one, and no one will bat an eye, but the moment one of the oppressed speaks up, we're labeled monsters. But monsters only ever existed in the minds of the hungry and damned.” - Jack Karelwood

“I suppose I shall look at this life of mine and laugh, smile at all the violence. So oh death, are you here? I've been smiling for far too long, and I've ought to wonder, why don't you smile back?” - Jack Karelwood

“Anger is perhaps better than tears, better than pain, and grief, but it can never outweigh guilt.” - Estarla Vagabond

“I fear that one day, when the sun sinks into the night, the moon shall never rise, and I'll be left in an endless night of the dark.” - Estarla Vagabond

“Isparlia would look at me and say I'm not my pain, I'm not my grief, but she has to realize, I'm the blood on my hands, the death in my heart.” - Estarla Vagabond

“On that dark night in the woods, I was hunted down, flayed of every good intention, and left out to hang on the fucking hook. That monster battered me down and gave me reasons to bleed, but he, is my reason to bleed. So oh wolf, when I stand before you with my revolver and revenge, my rage and passion, will you fear me? Will you tremble? Because to you, I was just another sheep, more fur to be worn, but I'm the rope around your damn neck. You will swing from my gallows and know my pain, every liquid drop of fear I felt will trickle down your neck and spine, leaving you gutless and full of fear that will never leave you.” - Estarla Vagabond

“I'm a wolf, I suppose, or perhaps I'm a sheep wearing a wolf's fur. Even then, I'm still dangerous.” - Estarla Vagabond

“They looked at me and called me monster, they called me beast, and all I could ever do was look up at the stars and cry, "I am a child, what do you want of me?” - Amalda Wilders

“I'm a curse wrapping around my throat like barbed wire, puncturing my skin and leaving me to bleed.” - Amalda Wilders

“I look into the river's reflection and see a ragged beast, desperately ripping off her fur to see some semblance of what it was to be human. To be loved, to be her.” - Amalda Wilders

“I'm so far from home, from my mother, my father, my brother. If they could hold me again, maybe then I'd feel free.... Until then I'm a lost girl, looking for Peter Pan so she can bloody him for all he's done. What a twisted version of the beloved tale, where Peter brandishes knives and blood on his lip, a tale where he created Hook of blood and pain, but oh Peter Pan, would you have put me through hell if you knew I was the ticking to your clock? Long ago you said you weren't the Shepperd, you were the tapping on the second story window, but can't you see? You're not the wolf, nor the prey, you're just a man, and Pan? You'll bleed like one. I'm here, with rage in my eyes and pain in my soul, so let's gaze upon the stars, shall we? You can wish upon them and cry, "I am a damned soul, what do you want of me?" And all they'll ever do is smile, and say, "Bleed, old friend, bleed." - Amalda Wilders

“Scorched, battered, bruised, I was always black eyes and shattered knuckles, I wanted them to fear hurting me, but I suppose I only hurt myself.” - Arnaldus Jakobson

“I grew up rough, I'd felt the word tough before I'd ever heard it spoken, I suppose that's what happens when you play a game where no man wins. It always ends in blood, so why fight? Why play? But this was never a game, it was lives we were fucking toying with, throwing them from out the chest without a care for the mess we'd leave behind. But in the end, with my battered and bloodied knuckles, it's my own blood I'm covered in. I'm a beast of broken tooth and nail, desperately rippin' off my fur, prayin' it's a sheep's coat I find underneath.” - Arnaldus Jakobson

“Some would say my love for her makes me weaker, but don't you see that it makes me stronger? If a man has a reason to fight, then you should damn well fear him, cause he's got something to lose. They say the most dangerous man of all is a man with nothing to lose, but I disagree. If you got nuthin' to fight for, you'll be the one on the floor. Cause a man with sumthin' to lose will fight tooth and nail to keep it that way.” - Arnaldus Jakobson

“I've seen the hell this world has to offer, because I've been the hell this world has to offer. My reflection may be that of a broken, bloodied man, but the mirror don't tell me who I am. All it does is show me my eyes, my scars, my skin. In the end, I'm more than the scars on the outside, the black eyes and broken teeth. I'm my mind, my heart, my soul, and that? You just can't unravel.” - Arnaldus Jakobson

"You take your eyes off the road for just one second and people die, man." - Bartholomew Stiller

"You're looking at a whisper, Lynda. Softly spoken enough to kill you." - Tazabani Muley

"I would give all my tomorrows for one yesteryear with you." - Albus Kirk 

  "You dwell too much on the past, the future is where your hope lies. I would give all my tomorrows if it meant I could leave you behind." - Ilda Locks 

 "Time was not built for the mortal man." - Albus Kirk 

"No man ever healed himself by walking into hell, why did I think I was any different?" - Bryan Jensen

"I'm not the one dragging you through the dark, girl. All I did was tie the rope to your ankle and watched the horse stride to the sunset." - Reamus Perwitz

"I crumpled at life's feet and hate it for what I did." - Reamus Perwitz

"People say the sunset's beautiful, but all it's ever been is a warnin." - Albert Spurs

"Nothing lasts, nothing is set in stone. If we want things to change, we have to pick up a chisel, and sculpt." - Gavin Abermadam

"Oh father art thou still in heaven? Or do you walk among us, experiencing our suffering? Going through our pain? Do you bleed for us as we bleed for you?" - Roy Creepenmire

"Look, I could fear the future, or I could prepare for it." - Lillah Wraith

"The screams 'a the unholy rise up from the air like smoke, but once the chorus 'a howls starts, it don't matter which side you’re on, all that matters is that ya don't join the chorus." - Rockwell M. Grellman

"You know, I always wondered why the devil was scared ta take my father. Only for me ta realize, the devil already got damn had him." - Eddy Lambs

"You'll be weepin' before you can ever say amen." - Rolf Lambs

"You plucked my heart from Summer and tossed it into a roaring river of rage." - Felicia Madamia

"I hate you, I can't describe it, this burning, boiling hatred. You're like a shadow, clinging to my skin, suffocating me from the inside out. Why won't the light chase you out?" Valice Madamia

"The Sun God is the one true God to rule these damned lands! And I do mean damned lands, because if I didn't step in, every soul in these wild lands would burn." - Oogala Sunlord

"What makes secrets dark, is the fact that they are hidden away." - Debemyer Blake

"We're all ghosts of our own actions, just so 'appens, you're a ghost 'a mine." - Olrok Bloodstorm

"Trust me, boy, I was the storm, but now I shall make you, the storm, and we shall strike the ground like lightning." - Olrok Bloodstorm

"Trust is finnicky, most men forge it from iron and call it a blade." - Mortley Dekruiful

"I shall greet death like an old friend, or a cold breeze in the summer sky. I shall welcome it." - Mortley Dekruiful

"Monsters don't hide these days, they've too much courage for our own good." - Terissa Dyste

"History is dead and gone, but these days, so are we." - Diaballo Klergy

"I sold my soul and was given nothing in return." - Caro Klergy

"Many a beast have I slain, but how regretful it is, I can't hunt myself." - Bank Cutthroat

"I suppose death wouldn't mean much to you, friend." - Abadellon Hourglass

"I was born with a hollow heart of no value, I suppose all a heartless man can do is steal other's." - Maxim Dragonwith

"The darkness tells me I'll be fine, and as I stare into the empty abyss of this heart in my chest, I realize, death hath become me." - Talina Tick

"I dreamt of angels stripped from halos and wings, 'spose holiness is a thing 'a the past, eh?" - Barley Teatherhall

"I stood there, with blood on my teeth, and that's when I knew that was it, I was dead." - Decazzle DeLillium

"I could pay for all I've done, but where'd the fun be in that?" - Baradus Cannonfire

"When the world burns you down, become ash and rise." - Baradus Cannonfire

"I am a moon drunk monster, Amalda, breathing in the stars as a blackhole would light." - Valentin Ogarzia

"Hell has collided with heaven, my brother, and look at us, on the verge of extinction." - Valenburk Harveyes

"You see one good man die and it all goes downhill from there." - Valenburk Harveyes

"We are beasts, since when have wolves bowed to kings?" - Grettleburg Vila

"Can't you see? We're all in hell, paying the price of the sins we committed to stay alive. And look where it got us." - Amallio Firesdirk

"War has always been the death of decency, but I refuse to let it be the death of them." - Sandusky O'Kain

“Despite the death, despite the pain and the sacrifice, we push on, don't we? Isn't that all we can do when faced with impossible?" - Myrtle O'Kain

"The world ain't never needed evil, just people willin' ta sacrifice, people willin' ta fight." - Riot Heavens

"The world isn't perfect, far from it, but if you look on the bright side you'll see, it gives us life, and isn't that enough?" - Mirtha Netz

"Ask me where the fuck my mind's gone and all you'll receive is a cold chill in the dusk lit air." - Zack Killkerick

"I am a tale of a cautionary kind, get in my way, you'll find that you too, are a cautionary tale." - Zack Killkerick

"It is dangerous, to live your whole life out of spite." - Zack Killkerick

"Kill or be killed, slaughter or be slaughtered, it always has been. Why else do you think wolves hunt?" - Isica Shadot

"I'm spinnin' this chamber 'gainst me skull wonderin' why it don't go off." - Barlo Brick

"Tell the preacher not ta pray, cause I ain't comin' home, ain't no altar that would have me fall at it's step." - Barlo Brick

"You think it'd be easy, pulling the trigger after goin' out in them woods day after day, comin' back with a deer draped 'cross my back. But when shit goes down, and bullets start ta fly, I find I freeze." - Malo Buck

[itisbucky]

No One Else [Bucky Barnes]

Hi! This is me being very bad and publishing a Bucky Barnes fanfiction even though I am actually not a good writer in English (because it’s my second language, sorry if I have any mistakes) It’s a song fic and the song is No One Else from Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812. Please tell me what you think and request!

Warnings: Angst through the end, mentions of death, I think it’s mostly fluff though!

Rating: T (?)

Word Count: 2018

You looked beautiful. So beautiful that you could make everyone fall in love with you. Confidence filled your veins with a heat you have never experienced before. The feeling was so good that you felt like you could swim in a pool of good feelings.

 You met Tony Stark a few months ago because of some legal issues and you ended up defending him in a case. Saving someone’s ass is an amazing start to a friendship, if you did not know that already. He has been kind to you and after he settled everything, he decided to host a party. Of course, you were invited.

You did not know any of his friends or his Avenger life, not that it interested you, you were quite happy with your calm life, but you were happy you finally had a chance to meet them. In the end, seeing the people who saved your life and most of the other people’s lives was a ‘once in a lifetime’ opportunity.

As you entered the room the quiet, peaceful notes filled your ears. Your eyes searched the room for your friend as you spotted some familiar faces. That man over there was the CEO of a successful company. If only you could remember, which one.

“Hello, my lady.” You heard a familiar voice say.

“Anthony!” you exclaimed and gave the owner of the voice a bone-crushing hug.

  “Hey [Name], I thought we agreed on all this not-calling-me-Anthony thing.” He mumbled before he put his hand on your shoulder.

“Well, you can’t give up on old habits easily, can you, Iron Man?”

 His Avenger life was some sort of story to you. You liked it when he talked about his missions. You always felt like they were some dark fairy tales.

“Can’t argue with that, can I?” He stopped walking and turned to face you. “Now I am about to tell you something but promise not to freak out.”

“What is it?” You softly smiled.

“Do you want to meet the Avengers?”

 “You know me so well. Of course, I do!” You said excitedly. He gestured for you to follow him, so you did.

You knew all of them. You have seen all of them on television before.

“Hey, guys! This is [Name] [Last Name], she defended me on the copyright case. She was dying to meet you, actually. She is such a fangirl.” He cheekily grinned.

“It’s an honor to meet you all.”

That was the exact moment you heard a voice without an owner, simply because you turned your back to the voice.

The moon

First time I heard your voice

Moonlight burst into the room

And I saw your eyes

And I saw your smile

And the world opened wide

And the world was inside of me

“Hey guys, I can’t believe you didn’t wait for me to form the group.” Said the voice. You were willing to listen to that voice no matter what it was talking about.  It could be anything as far as you know. Insect types were acceptable. God’s sake, even a four-hour documentary about beige was acceptable.

Then he turned to you. That’s when you saw his eyes. His beautiful azure eyes that made you want to punch yourself in the face. Those eyes looked like they could carry the weight of the world on their own, yet they could break even if a feather slightly touched them.

“Hi. I’m Bucky.” He said and offered his hand for you to shake.

 He offered his beautiful smile for you to forget where you are. That smile! Oh, that gorgeous smile! How could one not fall in love with his smile the second he looks at you. A smiled that felt like it could cure cancer. A smile that made you want to walk around on the hills barefoot with colorful butterflies flying around you. How could he even do that to you?

“[Name]”

“It’s great to meet you [Name]”

And I catch my breath

And I laugh and blush

And I hear guitars

You are so good for me

You let out a small laugh. A laugh that is almost unnoticeable. You laugh because you’re happy. That man next to you somehow made you happy. That must have been how heaven felt like.

You spent the rest of your night, talking to Bucky Barnes. You saw people leaving but you didn’t want to leave. You never wanted to think about tomorrow when he was next to you. He made you feel safe. He was next to you. Clear of his past. You were next to him. Clear of your future. You were there on the balcony sitting a little too close to each other with your bare minds. There were no limitations when you were sitting next to him.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

There were no limitations of your love. You fell in love a little too quick.

You kept showing up to the tower.

You found yourself lying next to him every night. His head rested on you chest. You know he found peace with the sound your heartbeats. You gently roamed your fingertips around his locks.

“You are so good for me.” He whispered one night. He had no idea how he made you feel. He had no idea how much he healed you.

Oh the moon

Oh the snow in the moonlight

And your childlike eyes
                            

And your distant smile

I’ll never be this happy again

You and I

And no one else

You get a habit of walking around at night. The city is not the safest option to do that but how many options do you have? You held his hand every night. You enjoyed every second of it. You loved how he talks excitedly yet still manages to whisper. You loved how his eyes light up at night. They always found their way to your face. He adored your face.

“Being around you is the safest I am.”

December 7th was the night he told you those words. He seemed so vulnerable. For the first time in your life, his eyes gleamed with tears instead of joy. You wanted to hug him and smoothen his tears. You wanted to kiss the top of his head and whisper sweet nothings to him. You couldn’t, anyway. You couldn’t think of a word that would make him feel better. You did what you were good at. You held his hands and cried with him. He knew you were telling him you were with him no matter what, with those tears.

We’ve done this all before

We were angels once

Don’t you remember?

Joy and life

Inside our souls

And nobody knows

Just you and me

It’s our secret

 You were angry and frustrated. Not so many people could see the good in him. You knew he would tear his past apart if he could. You saw it in some people’s eyes. They looked at him like he was an impure person. You knew he wasn’t. His heart was, oh, so full of light.  You wanted to kiss those glistening parts in him. You wanted to let everyone know he definitely was not Winter Soldier. He was James Buchanan Barnes. He was the man who made you feel beautiful. He was the man you fell in love with every single day. He was an angel. He was broken.

This winter sky

How can anyone sleep?

There was never such a night before!

I feel like putting my arms round my knees

And squeezing tight as possible

And flying away

Like this...

Lying next to him was a miracle. You still remember every part of that night. You remember the cold. Every breath you took would draw its way to the sky. As you got closer, they merged into one cloudy road to the sky.

The snow was showering from the stars. Silvery. You did not really mind when it surrounded you. Snow had a way of making everything black and white. How could his eyes be that blue, when everything else is dull? How could he take your soul in his arms and your heart in his hands?

When did you fall in love with this man?

When did the sun rise?

Where did this heavenly feeling come from?

Oh the moon

Oh the snow in the moonlight

And your childlike eyes

And your distant smile

I’ll never be this happy again

You and I

You and I

You and I

And no one else

You only fell in love with him more when he came back home, his face covered with blood. You couldn’t help yourself but feel lucky alongside devastated when he came home and talked about his day. His eyes would glisten like a small boy, talking about his favorite cartoon.

You were lucky he was alive.

He would sing an unknown song. You could hardly hear him when he slowly murmured the lyrics. His beautiful voice would make you fall in love with him over and over again. You never learned what the song was about because you never wondered what it was about. Those gorgeous notes were a mystery to you. You, again, fell in love with the mystery he gave you. What a beautiful mystery!

“I don’t deserve you, [Name]” He blurted out one night. You gently wiped the dried blood off from his drained face.

“Buck…”

“I don’t [Name]! You deserve a life where I come home with you. You deserve a life where you do not wipe off the blood from my face. I know you are worried. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“It’s worth it Bucky! You are worth every second of it. I can’t live a life where you don’t come home to someone who’ll wipe the blood off. I am here and I can’t go anywhere.” You cried. You held his hands and kissed his knuckles.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Maybe he’ll come today

Maybe he came already

One day he didn’t come home. You waited. Counted the hours, the minutes and the seconds, until someone knocked the door. It wasn’t him. He never knocks like that.

“[Name]”

“Tony?” His face was painted with distraught. He looked at you. As if he wanted to say something but he just couldn’t.

“There is something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

You prayed inside. God, please spare him! Please let him be safe!

“Bucky wanted you to read this.”

“Is he alright?” You insisted.

“[Name]”

“Is he?”

“Read the letter. Please read the letter.” He raised his voice.

You opened the envelope. The time stopped.

"My very dear [Name]. Right now, we have two options. One of them is, you will never read this letter. It will be destroyed within the flames of past.

The other option is harsh. If you received this letter, it is too late for me to give you a good night kiss again. If you are reading this letter, I am so sorry my love. When I came here, I sensed this. I wish I could run away. I am so sorry for exposing you to such anguish, which, I know you would feel.

I guess I shall cherish the sweet hope of meeting you in a better, safer world.

Yours truly,

James Buchanan Barnes”

Your whole body felt numb. You collapsed, trying to focus. This can’t be real. This shouldn’t be real.

“When we went on the mission they kept some of us and let us write letters. They were sure we were all going to die. None of us did. Except for… Except for him. I am really really sorry.”

You hugged your friend, which reminded you of the night you met Bucky. He left you with memories. How could it feel like four decades you spent with him when you only spent four years together? You deserved to spend years with him.

And he’s sitting in the drawing room
                                                                  And I simply forgot

Some things don’t have happy endings.

[llaevateinn]

Below the cut you can find the fic itself, but in the meantime, let me say a few words first. This is a tumblr exclusive morreyeson Christmas fic, aka a love story in three parts, or the self-indulgent magical music and song story that I seem to have to write for every pairing and fandom I’m involved in at least once.

For the best reading experience, have a pair of headphones or your choice of loud speakers at the ready. There are three links in the text, which I would advise you to open when/where they are indicated.

I wish every one of you very happy holidays, and all the best for your future. This is a thank you to all the people I met this year thanks to Overwatch <3

So without further ado, I present to you “The Best, Worst Kind of Present”.

Enjoy!

“Happy Holidays.”

Gabriel groaned and rolled over in his shitty sleeping bag. He knew that voice. He hadn’t arrived at Gabriel’s just yet, which gave him a few seconds to brace himself, but he knew whose harebrained idea this was. It was the 25th of December, and of course something like this was going to happen, who was he even kidding.

“Oh, what a lovely surprise! Merry Christmas, Jack! I can certainly use this!” came the loud bellowing from the direction of Reinhardt’s bivouac.

“Thanks, big guy. Happy Holidays, Ana, I know you don’t celebrate, but still.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Jack. Thank you,” was the Egyptian sniper’s reply. How in the name of everything she managed to sound so calm, collected, and most of all awake completely eluded Gabriel, as he burrowed himself even deeper into his pillow.

“Happy Holidays, Liao, I know you don’t celebrate either, but here you go.”

“Xièxiè, Lieutenant. Happy Holidays to you too.”

“Happy Holidays. I hope you like it.”

“Well, it certainly can’t hold a candle to my Ingrid’s apple pie, but it’s the best we’re going to get in this hellhole.” And then, muffled, grudgingly: “Damn, it tastes really good.”

And then it was inevitable, there was no one else left on their haphazard little team of misfits and loonies that were supposed to save the human race from total extinction. But someone once said that attack was the best defense, and so Gabriel sat up, blinking and grumbling, just seconds before he could get accosted by the all-American equivalent of liquid determination.

“Yes, yes, merry birth of Jesus and all that; save the crap, Morrison.”

“Happy Holidays to you too, Commander,” Jack had the audacity to say as he sat down right next to him, clutching something to his chest. “Also, contrary to popular belief, and the team’s knowledge, I do in fact know that you are a real sucker for Christmas, so I tried my best with our limited resources. I got everyone a little gift, and I brewed some celebratory coffee, and I tried to gather some greenery to assemble a makeshift Christmas tree, and also there is a candle. Could be interpreted as one seventh of a menorah, or one fourth of an advent wreath.”

Gabriel groaned again, rubbing his eyes.

“One, I do not deny being a sucker for the one holiday in the year aside from Halloween that I enjoy not for its marketization but for the atmosphere of cheer and togetherness that it inspires, so fuck you, Morrison for exploiting that. And two, you are seriously the human embodiment of a Golden Retriever, I swear to God- …”

“No taking the Lord’s name in vain on this holiest of days,” Jack interrupted him.

“I swear to God if it weren’t Christmas I would have whacked you for this comment, Morrison.”

“Aw, Gabe, I’m hurt. Better apply caffeine to my commanding officer before he insults someone who can’t handle the constant bitching.”

“I do not bitch,” Gabriel growled.

“Sure you don’t. Here’s your present, you big baby.”

“I didn’t get you anything in return, dumbass,” Gabriel complained, even as he accepted the small package. “It’s unfair how stupidly generous you are.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, and really, coming from you? Best Christmas present ever.”

“Stop being sarcastic, you human Golden Retriever. And fetch me that coffee.”

“Sir, yes, sir. But only if you open that present in the meantime.”

Grumbling, Gabriel looked at the package Jack had given him – a square, flat little box with a ribbon on top. It was very light, and when he shook it, nothing rattled inside.

“Are you sure you didn’t just give me an empty box?” Gabriel shouted, ignoring the looks he and Jack were getting from the rest of the team. Sure, they had only been a team for a bit more than two weeks now, and yes, that meant they were most likely perplexed by their antics, but it didn’t excuse the blatant staring.

“Just open it, you doofus.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes at Jack’s reply, but complied. The lid of the box came off easily, revealing …

“What the heck,” Gabriel whispered, grabbing the piece of paper lying inside. There was a big fat “L” written on it, in Jack’s distinctive, loopy handwriting. Beneath that was another scrap, this one with a lopsided “O” on it.

All of a sudden, Jack was in his personal space, holding a cup of lovely smelling coffee, but even the heavenly smell of wakefulness and energy was overshadowed by the huge grin nearly splitting Jack’s face in two.

“L is for the way you look at me,” he murmured, voice strangely rhythmic and lilting.

“Jack what- …?”

“O is for the only one I see,” Jack continued, louder, ignoring Gabriel’s interjection, and oh, he was singing. He was singing for Gabriel, he was singing that song.

In awe, Gabriel watched, mesmerized, as Jack set down the cup of coffee and reached out, revealing the third little letter.

“V,” Jack sang, catching everyone’s attention with his raspy baritone, shaky, but clear. “Is very, very extraordinary- …” And the last letter: “E, is even more than anyone that you adore can- …”

“Love,” Gabriel joined in, grinning, uncaring that his voice didn’t manage to match Jack’s deep rumble, missing half the notes, “is all that I can give to you.”

“Love,” Jack laughed, grabbing his hands and pulling him to his feet, “is more than just a game for two. Two in love can make it- …”

“… take my heard and please don’t break it …”

“Love was made for me and you.”

Closing his eyes, Gabriel let Jack pull him into an embrace, bodies swaying to the rhythm of Jack’s soft humming. He didn’t care that the others just heard this. This was his and Jack’s. This song was theirs, because one year ago … Well, one year ago they made a promise. And this was Jack’s way of showing that he was still here, he wasn’t going to break his vows, and he was Gabriel’s always.

“Thank you,” he whispered, burying his face in the crook of Jack’s neck. “This is the best goddamn Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.”

“Is it really a present if you already had it?”

“Shut up, my idiot.” And, in the narrow space between them, he whispered: “I love you too.”

One year ago they lay suffering, half-dead on the ground in a shitty emergency field tent. Lying on the floor because all the sickbeds were full with people who were even worse off than them. Dying people. Dead people. Their squad mates. Their friends.

“Jack,” Gabriel had groaned, grabbing onto Jack’s hand, usually hot and clammy, now icy and stiff. “I have to tell you- …”

“I know, angel. I know. Me too.”

Gabriel sighed with relief, ignoring the sharp, stabbing pain in his side. Jack was here. Jack knew. They were together.

“Just fucking promise you’ll get through the night with me, okay? Don’t die on me, you asshole.”

“Hey,” Jack coughed, protesting weakly. “I thought that now that- … Now we’re  … you’d stop calling me names.”

“Fat chance, idiot.” And then: “But you’re my idiot.”

A snort.

“Jack. You didn’t promise yet.”

“Oh.”

There was a long pause, interrupted by pained groaning and shifting. Gabriel waited anxiously, unable to bring himself to let go of Jack’s hand. They had been dancing around this topic. The … feelings they had, separately, or for each other. Neither of them had said the words yet, and it terrified Gabriel. They were at war, wounded in battle nearly every day, and yet – there were those feelings. Forbidden. Dangerous. But oh, so precious.

And then, with audible effort, Jack turned around, suddenly plastered against Gabriel’s side.

“Jack what are you doing, stop it, you’re gonna pull your stitches- …”

And Jack hadn’t said the words yet, hadn’t promised yet. But he was here, solid and still alive, and wasn’t that all that mattered?

It started very quietly, nearly drowned out by the noises the other soldiers were making. Muffled sounds of nightmares, pain and the delirium of death throes. But from somewhere, Jack seemed to gather courage, raising his voice just enough for Gabriel to hear it properly.

He was humming.

Gabriel chuckled, when he recognized the melody, unable to help the laughter building inside him, threatening to bubble over and burst out. This man. This unbelievable, utterly stunning human being.

“Shh,” he hissed in between fits of muted laughter, pressing his forehead against Jack’s chest. “Stop it you’ll wake the others.”

“Oh really? Well, tough luck,” he said, raising his voice even more, until he was properly singing: “Won’t you fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars. Hmm-hmm-m ...”

“Oh my god, stop it you dork.”

“In other words, hold my hand … In other words, darling, kiss me.”

Gabriel yelped in surprise, when Jack actually captured his mouth in a kiss.

“Fill my heart with song, and let me sing for ever more. You are all I long for,” Jack continued, unperturbed, “All I worship and adore. In other words, yes, be true; in other words, I love you.”

Hearing this, Gabriel gasped and not so gently punched Jack in the arm, forgetting for a second where they were and why, earning himself a pained groan.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. Want me to continue?”

Gabriel shook his head, strangely choked up, despite Jack’s nonchalant and relaxed demeanor. This was a defining moment between them, and they were having it on the floor of a field hospital, in the middle of a war.

“No, I think I’m good,” he replied belatedly.

“What, don’t you like my singing?” Jack pouted, mock hurt, before sobering and drawing Gabriel close again. “I mean it though. We haven’t said it yet, and I’m aware this is the worst possible time to say it, so I won’t say it.”

“You’re singing it instead? Quoting century old songs?”

“If that’s what it takes, without crossing some invisible lines, then yeah.”

They both fell silent then, basking in each other’s warmth. Gabriel comfortably rested his weight against Jack, trusting the other man to hold him. To keep him safely balanced. Between their bodies there was almost no space left, but it was theirs. Their tiny little bubble. Inside it, they could do things like this; sing declarations of love to each other. But outside?

Well, outside, there was war.

“I promise.”

Gabriel blinked, unaware that he had closed his eyes at all. Had he fallen asleep maybe? And then he realized, fully comprehended what Jack just said.

“I promise,” Jack continued, his voice sounding ever rougher than usual, “I promise to always stay by your side. And if I can’t, for some reason, be with you – well, then I promise to come back. Always.”

Thirty years later, Jack was the only one left awake in Watchpoint: Gibraltar after a truly epic Christmas celebration, complete with peanut butter cake courtesy of Winston, music from DJ Lúcio, and entertainment provided by Hana Song, aka D.Va. Everyone had contributed a little bit, truth be told, except that Jack – or Soldier:76, as was his moniker – felt he was not feeling properly festive himself. So instead, he volunteered for cleanup duty.

He didn’t mind picking up the evidence of a truly frightening game of beer pong, or the shredded mountains of wrapping paper. It warmed his cold insides to see the younger generations find joy in this tradition. For himself, though, there was little more than bitter memories and a gaping hollowness.

He was almost done bagging the worst of the mess and was about to move on to the big guns – the vacuum cleaner – when Athena notified him of an alert.

“Intruder detected,” she said, the lights of the closest monitors flashing in warning. “Unidentified life form located within your quarters, Commander.”

“I told you to stop calling me that, Athena,” Jack groused.

“Apologies, Commander.”

“My quarters you said?”

“Yes, Commander.”

He waved his hand and dropped the full garbage bag he was holding.

“I’ll take care of it. Disable alarm. No need to wake the others.”

“But Commander- …”

“Mute,” Jack cut her off, feeling a strange sort of bittersweet satisfaction at the ringing silence that followed. “And cut the feed. I don’t want anyone to see this.”

The only acknowledgement of his instructions was an almost reluctant blinking of the monitor closest to him.

His steps were unhurried as he walked across the compound, taking familiar flights of stairs, rounding corners he knew like the back of his hand, opening the door to quarters he could find his way in blindly.

It was completely dark inside, once the door shut behind him. Only a faint glow that emanated from his visor proved that space was, indeed, real. That his eyes were open.

Calmly, he reached up, flicking a familiar switch. The glow waned, and into the complete black, he said: “I didn’t think you’d come.”

When no answer came right away, he bowed his head and removed the visor entirely. The first breath of unfiltered air was painful in his lungs, and he felt strangely naked without it, standing blindly, trustingly in his own home.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” came a faint whisper from behind him. “You make me happy when skies are gray.”

He closed his eyes, not because it would make any damn difference again, but to fight the sudden tears threatening to spill over.

The voice seemed to gather courage from Jack’s silence as it continued, quiet still, but stronger, carrying an old, haunting tune.

“You'll never know dear, how much I love you,” it crooned gently. “Please don't take my sunshine away.”

Bowing his head, Jack struggled to find the right words, the proper reply. He thought of a funny quip, perhaps, a hark back to Gabriel’s reaction to Jack’s first song, a nonchalant joke about quoting century old songs. He thought of whirling around in anger and punching the person that the man he once loved had become – someone he couldn’t love, someone he couldn’t follow and stand behind. He thought of crumpling to the ground in anguish.

But none of that was right. Because inside, he was hollow and cold.

“Jack?”

“Reaper,” he shot back, a sharpness to his voice that he himself didn’t recognize. He imagined Gabriel – no, Reaper – recoiling in surprise, and imagined feeling satisfaction about this.

There was a soft sound, a cough.

“I wanted to … wish you a merry Christmas. Before the day was over. But it’s, uh, already past midnight. You didn’t return to your quarters when I expected you to. So …”

Jack thought about saying “You did what you came here for; leave now”, and wondered whether Reaper would comply.

Instead, he asked: “Why did you really come here?”

And truly, he was inquiring not about this bullshit story that Reaper may or may not believe himself, about breaking into Watchpoint: Gibraltar, just to wish an enemy merry goddamn Christmas. He wanted to know why he was singing. Why he was singing that song. With those words.

A quiet part inside him knew that Reaper – that Gabriel knew he was asking these things. Because he knew Gabriel’s voice, and he knew Reaper’s voice. Because Jack had removed his visor, making him Jack instead of Soldier: 76. Because this is what they did. Playing games, instead of saying things outright.

He still had his back to Gabriel, too, and gestures like that, they had weight between them. A pair of masks lying on the ground, a back turned, a song sung.

“Just tell me if it’s just nostalgia or something else.” Something more. That went unsaid, too.

“I feel like I should explain, but it would take too long.”

Jack snorted.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Aren’t you?” Gabriel growled. Then, a pause. And: “Sorry. I don’t really mean that.”

“Oh? What else don’t you really mean?”

He turned around leisurely, blindly reaching for the ammo pack he knew was lying on the counter next to him. In the complete darkness he was surrounded by, with closed eyes, he drew back his arm, aimed, and threw the pack. With a loud crack, it connected with the mechanical light switch, flooding the room in fluorescent light.

The figure standing next to the closed door looked different than he expected. He had imagined the heavy, black leather coat, hood and mask that Reaper were known for. He had not expected familiar, warm brown eyes staring back at him. A soft mouth, its turned down corners framed by a neat goatee.

“I meant everything I said,” Gabriel said, finally. “But perhaps not the way you interpreted it. And yes, maybe I meant to make you believe things that were untrue. But I never directly lied to you. Never, Jack. And I never will. I promised- … We promised to each other. To have each other’s backs. And if I made you break your promise, I won’t hold you accountable, because it’s what I wanted, wasn’t it. I wanted you to leave.”

And though Jack had been empty and numb for so, so long, one word, one question was clear as crystal in his mind. The only thing that mattered to him, right then, was to know: “Why?”

And Gabriel hung his head, heavy with weariness and the burden of years upon years.

“It’s kind of a long story.”

Jack took a deep breath, looking at the figure of the man – of his best friend, the man he loved, he only one he could take this pain and emptiness for, the only one he could bear to wait for.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, again.

And so, Gabriel heaved a deep sigh, looking up at him with a bright, bittersweet smile: “I’m here to get my Christmas present back.”

[hillbillyhippiemusicreview]

Post #64, Charlie Argo--”Tennessee Will”

Reviewed by Lyssa Culbertson

With his enigmatic smile, genuine disposition, powerhouse vocals, and a swagger as confident, bluesy and unique as the music he creates, Selma, Alabama bred and Nashville, Tennessee based singer-songwriter Charlie Argo is a force to be reckoned with has upon his return to the scene with the release of “Tennessee Will,” the first single off of his upcoming EP. The EP, In the Name of Love, is due to be released in early 2021, and if this single is any indication of what is to come—it’s going to be one of the best releases of the year. If you dig the sounds of soulful crooners such as John Mayer, Anderson East, Ray Lamontange, Otis Redding, and Sam Cooke while also valuing the craft behind talented songwriters and artists like Jason Isbell and Adam Hood, you will certainly enjoy what the Charlie is cookin’ up in his musical melting pot with a plethora of influences blended together to add a inimitable flavor and spice to his style. Born a natural performer, his earliest roots in singing began on slow Sunday mornings spent in church, akin to the beginnings of many other Southern vocalists from who he finds his inspiration. Those experiences surely shaped his passionate performance style, as he shares the gospel of good music every time he opens his mouth to sing. Whatever “it” is, he has it. Mark my words—Charlie Argo will be a star.

Though the song is a cover of fellow Alabamian Adam Hood’s song off his fabulous record, The Shape of Things, Charlie has revamped the tune whilst making it his own, showcasing his musical prowess. Due to a meeting by happenstance, or perhaps universal design, the single was produced by Jay Tooke at his studio, Penny Arcade Sounds, located at Pentavarit Studios, as well as recorded on location with both Jay and Bobby Holland. Jay brings a wealth of knowledge to the table and creates magic with anything he touches, as evidenced by the impeccable production quality on “Tennessee Will.” In addition to producing and mixing the single, Jay also played drums alongside some other heavy hitters in town: Johnny Stanton on bass, Joey Landreth on guitar, Billy Justineau on keys, and angelic background vocals lent by Jennifer Friend and Shannon Beck Lawson. The tune was mastered by Nathan Dantzler at The Hit Lab, tying it all together. Alongside Charlie’s smooth, smoky vocals, the music is certainly one of the standouts here—somehow it’s effortlessly evocative of the emotions conveyed by the lyrics.

The first verse of “Tennessee Will” paints quite a vivid lyrical portrait of the setting of the song, allowing one to immerse themselves into the storyline:

“Blind man on an old upright piano Lady in red on a banjolin Playing songs like ‘Oh! Susanna’ Getting slower with each gin”

I envision the character in the song sitting in some hazy, dimly lit club on Beale Street, listening to the blind man moan the blues amidst the ramblings of his mind and the gin disappearing from his glass. Lost in thought, he starts longing for the comforts of home, as the allure of the city lights and fast pace leave something to be desired, because “[he] never did believe that Memphis really was the end of the line, so, [he’s] going back to Alabama, where [his] heart's been all the time.” So, he hops aboard a steamboat bound for sweet home, knowing that “if the Mississippi River don't carry me to her . . . the Tennessee will.” Both geographically and lyrically, that is a stellar line because while the Mississippi can help him reach his destination, ultimately it’s upon the Tennessee that he will drift home. Unlike the steamboat floating on the surface, “Tennessee Will” is one of those songs where one must dive a little deeper to fully understand the intent behind the words. On first listen, it may appear Charlie is singing about a lover he’s struggling to leave behind in efforts to return home to Alabama when he croons “and I know it should be easy but, it's hard to say goodbye.” However, upon further consideration it seems to me that the character is fond of where he is, but Alabama is his one true love. When the background singers join in, reminiscent of a church choir, with Charlie’s heavenly vocal runs towards the end of the tune, it truly drives home the feelings of desire and longing for what—or who—he’s missing. Whatever the listener’s interpretation, one thing is for sure: Charlie’s artistic take on the song is superb and promising of the extent of his melodious talents to be showcased on In the Name of Love.

Be sure to follow Charlie on his socials at Charlie Argo Music on Facebook and @charlieargomusic on Instagram. Don’t forget to check out his website at www.charlieargo.com for some rad merch and updates—such as the music video for “Tennessee Will” releasing on October 7th. And as always, remember that if the radio don’t carry you to the best music, the Hillbilly Hippie Music Review will!

Peace, love, & music—

Lyssa

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

*This is an independent review. The Hillbilly Hippie Music Review was not compensated for this review.

*The opinions expressed are solely that of the author(s).

*These images are not ours, nor do we claim them in any way. They are copyrighted by Charlie Argo.

[the1997diaries]

The Guy who got the A in me...

FLASHBACK November 2, 2012

YFC Batch 28 - Undefeated

It was YFC Camp— a three-day camp that all will be about is knowing our Lord Jesus Christ— when I saw him, Kuya A. But at first, of course, I didn’t mind cos what I wanted the most and the reason why I join YFC is to know more about Him, my savior. And kuya A, he’s like the contrary of everything I dreamt of.  Naaah, don’t get me wrong, he got the looks, yes and the brains too, I guess but he’s not really that guy okay. He’s not that. But I don’t know why there’s a sudden movement in me that unknowingly caught my attention.

We arrived at the venue around 6 pm, that’s I guess the call time. We just have some random introducing of ourselves with our team leader, Kuya B and we ate dinner afterward. Then the moment of truth, the first talk started. The feels were legit and authentic. After the mind-blowing first talk, those people behind the camp played a song, entitled, Kung Ako Nalang Sana, without lights and with our eyes closed. It was mesmerizing. Who would have thought that Kung ako nalang sana can also be about Jesus? I was moved by my emotions. I cried. I didn’t expect that it will be sucha heartbreaking song. And that song became one of my favorites; I love the voice behind it. It captured me— almost all of me.

The morning of the following day, November 3, 2012. We were gathered in a room with no idea of what will happen. While waiting, this guy they call A—  yes the guy I was talking about— I call him kuya A. Together with kuya J, both of them rushed to the blackboard to face us and I can say that he’s a little bit shy based on his looks. They taught us worship songs, they taught us how to praise and even our batch dance craze. He’s cute when he sings and he can also play the guitar. He got sarcasm and made us all fell into his witty jokes. Did I mention that I just stared at him for like a minute that time? Yes, I did. Di lang ata minuto yon eh. Then there, I guess it all started.

By afternoon, I often see him around— or more likely I’m really always looking for him. You know that feeling when you know you’re starting to like a person, you feel like you always want them to see. And that feeling is like as if you’re on cloud nine. Haaaay only heaven knows. Baduuy uy.

The evening agenda was to choose a team— dance, sing or a comedy show. Through my interrogating skillz level 101 (hahahaha) and my guts, I was able to ask a lot of and (random) people of what team kuya A will be part of. By that, I knew kuya A will be the one who will mentor the singing team so I guess you now know what team I chose? And tbh right now while writing this one, I still feel the giddiness, the kilig, the never ending smiles and the same feeling I felt and I can’t help but think... How was he able to change my perception of my own dream guy? Paano ko naconvince yung mga kaibigan ko na singing yung piliin without the hint that I might like him? Why did I fell to someone who is totally different to me? Hmmmmm.... idk. It’s indescribable you know, di ko din alam kung ano nakain ko non at sobrang lakas ng loob ko. Shet naiiyak ako while writing this. 

Expectedly he taught us possible songs to sing for the E-Night where all of us must be participating. And you guys he never failed to make me smile all throughout that practice. We sing we dance, and (we laugh and that’s mandatory). I remember while rehearsing, there’s a sudden blackout and we all screamed out loud and turn into bursts afterward because of our own unexplainable expressions LOL. He called our team “Girls Direction” cos we’re going to sing that time some One Direction’s songs. After the given time for rehearsal, we ended up having just one song and we’re still not prepared for the performance. But he assured us that we’ll just be fine. And okay, I’m gonna say it… I’m gonna admit it. I’m sooooo kilig while he’s teaching us and when he looks at me. Okay. OMG!

After the entertainment night was our first ever praise fest where we sing worship songs to uplift and praise Christ. And with kuya A as our worship leader— I didn’t expect it to be him. That moment when he’s telling stories and the way he closes his eyes while singing. His sincerity, passion, and dedication in serving God are just amazingly superb about him— and I love it. And by that I know, yes this guy… is that guy... right at that moment... I knew it was something else. For the first time in forever, I felt the feeling of how it is to like a significant other. That affection that sees no perfection, no faults. Yet I’m also feeling guilty that time because, I’m supposed to be there because of my Savior but, I just found myself knowing Him and knowing that He also wants to teach me of loving with no limits, with no hesitations, to see no hindrance, to just love and appreciate.

Day 3, November 4, 2012. Our last day. We are all terribly exhausted: lack of sleep and the random emotions we had through talks. And the last talk started in the morning and ended at noon. There’s a part where all the old YFC’s were going to welcome us and will show us how to do the YFC handshake. I got so excited because I knew that kuya A will be holding my hands. Ya ya ya ya. I tried to focus on the speaker but hey excitement is so real. But I did focus on the talk and I absolutely didn’t expect the last part— the coffee-changing-colors thingy. Gawd those guys behind the camp were just so amazing and I’ve also realized how amazing God really is despite all our shortcomings.

And my most anticipated part. After the talk, the old YFCs started to line up in one corner of the room. Few minutes, I saw him running and making his way to the line wearing his heavenly smile. Oh geez, kuya A you're an angel in disguise. My eyes can’t see no one but him and I’m looking straight into his eyes. Gawhd I wonder, how many girls had fallen for it. And these people started giving their hands for the handshake. And I can still remember how they were moving so fast like how my heart was and my nerves were. Waaaaaahhh bat ako kinikilig ng gantong oras.

Okay… Seven… Six… Five… Four… Three… Two…

“Hi, Kuya A” I said while giving him my hand. “Hi, Ace!” and we shook our hands. “Welcome to YFC!” he said again, smiling...

Gawhd!

After the camp, I finally told my friends that I have a thing for kuya A and they actually agreed that he is really cute. Days after the camp was lighter than ever. No heavy feelings on the inside and no more worries— at all. Then, I got his number. I texted him with some kind of thank you messages for taking care of us and things like that. He is really approachable you guys and really naughty— yep no doubt about that. We almost texted a whole day. A whole day of non-sense and kilig overload ya know what I mean... yep shhhh. I can still remember those exchanging of cheesy lines and punch lines like what? Did I actually text that to him? eewww hehehe joke hahaha. A big OMG.

The following camp, we were both part of the mission team of Batch 29. It is the last day when I was assigned to wash the dishes. While washing, he went to me and asked if I already ate but I don’t exactly remember what I said to him. Then he left and came back with food and I remember laughing at him. Gawd why did I laugh? I said that I’ll eat later but he insisted and he really scooped the food for me. Yay, that’s one of the most unforgettable experience I had with him.

I didn’t even know that the guy behind the “Kung Ako Nalang Sana” voice is him. Gahwd... Divine! And what I really admired about him the most is that he is serving our Man up there for like 13 or 15 years now? and still counting. Gawhd kuya A, you’re unbelievable. 

But as days passed by, I knew everything should stop.

Above all, thank you kuya A for sharing your fun stories with me. With us all your bunso. Thank you for giving us countless reasons to live for Him, to praise Him, to uplift Him. Thank you for everything. I’ve learned so much from you and I became closer to God. Thank you for those never dull moments. The seawall tambays after mass. For all the inspiring words during the worships. For everything that you’ve done unintentionally. I will never ever forget that short video message you made for my 16th birthday, despite your busy schedule. Thank you for that sweet message. Thank you for singing Iris to me. That will always remind me of you every now and then. Sad thing is, I already lost that video. But those words that you told me… will forever be stored in my heart. And that song… that song will always be my song for you as well. Even though I lost that video, I will never ever lose this another video message you gave me with you singing Kung Akin ang Mundo for my 20th birthday. Kuya A… I’m speechless. I can’t thank you enough for the memories, for the time, the effort and all. You will always have a soft part in me. I will always love you. I got you. I’ll never ever forget you, I promise. I miss you so bad. I don’t want you to read this but if you do, please don’t let me know or yes please let me know. 

I just wish that you find the right person for you, the one you have been dreaming of too. The one who will make you happy just like what you did to me. You deserve more than that. I’m always hoping for your good health. Please do take care of yourself— that will mean a lot to me.

And yes, kuya A***, you got me.

Photo from: xxx 

PS: it still hurts.

[erenblogs1]

I was so excited to see the Eurovision Song Contest winner of 2019 Duncan Laurence live. This Dutchman appeared out of nowhere and suddenly he won the contest with his heart-melting piano ballad Arcade. With his adorable and cute appearance, he managed to make a lot of fans. And now he’s touring across Europe with only two released songs. I really didn’t know what to expect from his show. But I didn’t want to miss the chance to see him live for the first time in Switzerland. I was sure he wouldn’t only play two songs but the rest was a mystery. Thanks to abc Production Switzerland I got to see him performing live at Mascotte Club, Zürich on the 15th of November. It was a cold Friday night, the doors opened at 7 p.m. and 10 minutes before I was queueing with other fans. Due to the fact that it was rather a small venue I didn’t expect many people so early. As soon as they let us in, I could feel the relaxed energy. Fans treated themselves to a drink at the bar, while chatting with their companies. This time I wasn’t only surrounded by teenage fans, there were a lot of adults and elder people. For this concert I went on my own and I really needed a bit of me-time on this day. Unfortunately, Duncan wasn’t selling any merch. I was standing right in front of the stage and I was so nervous and excited being so close.

Support Act: Seb Lorez

At 7.30 p.m. the Swiss-Columbian Singer and Songwriter Seb Lorez went on stage. If I’m honest I never heard his name before but I’m always open to discover new artists. Seb created a chill calming atmosphere with his music. He played the acoustic and the electric guitar alternating, he also used a looper and created his own beats. Seb’s vocals sounded enchanting and harmonious. He promoted his EP Slide Away, which was released this summer and also played some unreleased songs. A cover of a famous song would have helped him to interact with the crowd. Seb was nervous and seemed a bit shy while talking to us. But since he was also lovely and friendly, I’m sure he gained some new fans. I’ll definitely keep an eye on his next releases.

Duncan Laurence’s Performance

During the stage reconstruction, a crew member put on the setlist sheets next to the instruments. Since I was standing in the front row, I could read the song titles and got excited to hear so many unreleased songs. At 8.20 p.m. his band members took their places on the stage and started playing a very long intro. They really built-up tension but it almost got annoying. The lighting was dimmed, so they created a dark spiritual atmosphere. Then suddenly, Duncan went on stage and he felt the music in his entire body while moving to the beat slowly. He was like in another dimension. The opening track was the powerful track Kings. With the next ballad Stranger he kept the dark ambiance and impressed us with deep lyrics and heavenly vocals. The audience was hypnotized and paralyzed since we were hearing these songs for the first time. Duncan went all black for his costume: wearing skintight black jeans, a black shirt underneath a black jacket.

In his first speech, he told us how amazed he was by Zurich, especially by the view of the lake. He admitted that he loves traveling and singing, so touring is the best combination for him. Then he asked us how we are. While we were cheering, he said: “Me too”. Afterward, he introduced the next song Dry Your Eyes with the words:

“Sometimes in life, things go the way they go and sometimes things just don’t go right. And that’s what it is, right? Just remember when things don’t go right there always be better times. As much as it doesn’t seem right, the more you will appreciate the better times. That’s what the next song is about”.

Dry Your Eyes is a touching and motivating ballad. Then we enjoyed acoustic vibes when he performed My Memory Hates Me only with his female guitarist. I really liked this song and can’t wait for the release. In another speech, he told us about his journey as a songwriter how Will Maas supported him to believe in himself and to write about whatever he wants to without thinking about if others would like it or not. Ice age meant to be one of these songs. For this upbeat track, we left the dark ballads and could dance and clap along. Dear Nothing brought back the dark spooky vibes alongside some red lighting.

Afterward, it was finally time for Love Don’t Hate It, his new single. And yes, we knew the lyrics and could sing along proudly to this love anthem. “Let’s not complicate it if it’s love, don’t hate it”. Then he introduced the ESC winning track Arcade, most of the people came only knowing this one song. It was magical and powerful just as expected. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get enough of this ballad. I wish he had performed this song twice during his set. Maybe an acoustic piano version as an opener and again with the band as a closer. They didn’t leave the stage for an encore and just continued the show with one last lovely song, he was accompanied again by his guitarist.

After performing for an hour they left the stage. Duncan was cute and adorable during the night but he still kept a distance to the audience. Even though I was half a meter away from him there was like an invisible wall between us or let’s say I felt invisible. I literally had no eye contact with him during this one hour. But he wasn’t better with other fans. Duncan didn’t really notice us, which made me upset. Maybe he was just nervous or wanted to seem professional, or maybe this is the way an artist interacts after winning the ESC. However, I admit that he is one of the most talented male singers of our time: his vocal range, falsettos, and angel-like vocals were pure talent. I’m sure he will release his debut album next year; you’ll definitely enjoy listening to it. Check out my Instagram for some videos of the concert.

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  Duncan Laurence: Concert Review now online! I was so excited to see the Eurovision Song Contest winner of 2019 Duncan Laurence live. This Dutchman appeared out of nowhere and suddenly he won the contest with his heart-melting piano ballad…

[netmaddy-blog]

The Light Of The World

New Post has been published on https://netmaddy.com/the-light-of-the-world/

The Light Of The World

There was once a small child named Jacob. Jacob had not been much interested in Christmas-too young to remember the previous Christmas, and not comprehending what it would mean this year. Not much interested, that is, until his mother and father began to string lights down the banister and around the entry area of the house. “Oh, Mommy, Mommy!” he exclaimed, “Let me help make Christmas!” and gathering all the rest of the lights in his arms, he ran to his room and began to string them everywhere until his room resembled something like the Griswald’s house in the movie Christmas Vacation.

Small as he was, he grasped an important truth. Christmas is all about lights-the light of the angels bursting through a cold, dark sky to sing the music of heaven to terrified shepherds who could not remember anything like this happening before, nor comprehend what was happening now. The light of a star appearing in the sky to anxious magi who had never seen anything like it before-and could not comprehend a king who was born in a stable. The Light of the World, born in a stable to a scared teenager supported by her worried husband.

Light gets our attention. On that first Christmas the true light came into the world, the light that shines in darkness, but the darkness has not overcome it. The Light comes again today for us. It comes into our lives. It is here enlightening our lives. Do we see the Light of Life as the shepherds did, or do we see it as a disturbance, something that unsettles us, something that makes us uneasy, something that brings a wave of guilt, but doesn’t lead us to repentance. Because of the Babe born on the first Christmas, our lives are lit up with the grace of God, the love of God, the forgiveness of God, the power of God, and the peace of God.

John’s Gospel has two purposes:

1. To introduce his readers to Jesus, and

2. To establish who He is and what He did, all with the sole aim of leading them to embrace the saving work of Christ.

God came to us in Christ. When hostility and enmity exist, we can break the silence because of Christ and offer what God has offered us-a word of Grace. The true light came on the first Christmas-the light that shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not overcome it. Light equals life. The Light of Christ has come into our lives. Do we see it as a disturbance, or do we see it as the Light of life, like the shepherds did? This light brings peace, comfort, reconciliation and joy into our lives.

There is a story about two brothers, named Tom and John, whose father had died. He had willed the farm to the two of them to keep his sons together. It had not worked that way. John had married and lived in a small town with his family. Tom, who remained single, lived alone in the old farmhouse. “John is always preoccupied with his family,” Tom thought. “I do more than my share of the work.” He began to resent his brother. “Tom is always so grouchy,” thought John. “He is jealous of my wife and children.”

A wall of resentment built up between them. They would hardly speak to each other. They attended the same little church in town and sat on opposite sides of the nave during the Christmas Eve service. John was troubled because they had hardly acknowledged each other’s presence as they sat in church. On the way home John said to his wife, “Tom is alone and has no one to share Christmas. I know he won’t come here. Maybe we can take a warm dinner to him.” His wife prepared a delicious meal and put it into a sleigh and started from the small town to the farmhouse in the country. Meanwhile, Tom, sitting alone, said to himself: “Life is too short for this. John is my only brother and he has it hard with his wife and family. I will load my wagon with wood for the fire and gifts for the children.” So he loaded his wagon and drove toward town.

Down in the valley between the farm and the town they met. They were silent for a moment and then they embraced with shouts of “Merry Christmas!!!!” Reconciliation took place at that moment, and the true light of Christmas was bright with a glow that could be seen for miles around.

Christ the light was in the world. The world was made by Him, but the world did not know Him. In the Bible, the word “flesh” often means “the whole person”. Human nature is distinct and separate from God; the human nature in all of its weakness and susceptibility of sin. The rejecter’s loss is the believer’s gain. The way has been opened for God’s purpose to be fulfilled in us. Christ’s grace is inexhaustible. The purpose of the Light is to make us His children. He is God over us, and He is our advocate. He pleads our case because He loves us.

Jesus revealed His love for us through the greatest act of self-sacrifice a man could perform-He gave His life for us. God became one of us. Christ has identified with us, and He wants to enable us to live fulfilled lives. The church owes its life to the Word of promise, and is nourished and preserved by the same Word. If the soul has the Word, it is rich and is lacking nothing of peace, of righteousness, of salvation, of joy, of liberty. Advent’s mood calls us to a mature, clear-sighted and steadfast faith. The real meaning of Christmas lies in the combination of magical ceremonies and the message that God has broken through our human selfishness.

John’s Gospel adds perspective whereby the reader is led all the way back to Creation to see even that in the light of the resurrection. John points us continually toward Jesus and His mission. John’s life is directed toward Jesus and in service of His kingdom. We must let go of EVERYTHING that is blocking God’s path to us. To have a relationship with Christ is to have a relationship of openness to God and share His eternal life. The world can’t understand the light and darkness, but the darkness of our universe has been scattered. The one who is light suffered the darkness of death and hell in our place. The Crucifixion did not extinguish the light, because Jesus is Lord of Death and Lord of Life. We are not in darkness any more. We have “seen the light”. God’s word has created us and bound us together.

God’s immensity is always flooding us with grace. Our spiritual blindness can’t drive us away from God’s grace. The major consequence of our sinful nature is blindness-to truth, reality, the nature of sin and the necessity of a Saviour. The Saviour of humankind has been given to us. The Word is immersed in every aspect of our lives-from empty problems at work, to temptation, to fun-time partying, to betrayal, to exhilaration, to grief, to laughter, to pain. We draw grace from God’s entire resources—an inexhaustible warehouse. From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace. Grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

The other Gospels depict the glory of God coming upon Jesus at the transfiguration; however, John sees the glory of God in all Jesus says and does. In John’s mind, the hour for Jesus to be glorified is the crucifixion.

If we say we have fellowship with God, that means we partake of his divine nature. If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves. If we have fellowship with God, we must be like Him and make room in our lives and hearts for others AND for Jesus. Christmas can be a time for sheer joy, but it can also be a time of great pain and sorrow, especially for those who have lost a loved one, or who are in poor health, or who have lost their job, or who have suffered other kinds of losses. There is hope in the true story of Christmas-hope God gave us in the baby, our redeemer, Jesus Christ. The Light of the World brings hope to the world. God lives here within us. If God keeps his promises, is it because he wants to or is it because of his nature? He won’t do anything other than what He has done through Christ and is now doing simply because he can’t do anything else.

I read a news story the other day about a move that is underway to make Jesus Christ the honorary king of Poland. Jesus came to earth on that first Christmas over 2,000 years ago to create His earthly kingdom and draw us into his heavenly kingdom by spreading the Good News of the Word and salvation, especially to the poor, the hungry, and the oppressed throughout the world, especially in countries such as China, Kenya, Iran, Nigeria, India and Iraq. Even in these darkest corners of the world, the light shines so brightly that it pierces the deepest, darkest corners of man’s soul and opens his heart to the joy of the Christmas season.

In his Christmas Day message this year, Pope Benedict issued an appeal for the poor, the exploited, and all those who suffer. He said (quote):

The humanity of the 21st century appears as sure and self-sufficient master of its own destiny, the avid proponent of uncontested triumphs, yet this is not the case. People continue to die of hunger and thirst, disease and poverty, in this age of plenty and unbridled consumerism. Some people remain enslaved, exploited and stripped of their dignity; others are victims of racial and religious hatred, hampered by intolerance and discrimination. Others see their own bodies and those of dear ones, particularly their children, maimed by weaponry, by terrorism and by all sorts of violence at a time when everyone invokes and acclaims progress. It is for this reason that Jesus Christ is reborn. For he knows that even today, we need him. Despite humanity’s many advances, man has always been the same: a freedom poised between good and evil, between life and death.(End quote)

Even a small light can dispel a great darkness—even a tiny candle can drive darkness out of a large room. Light and darkness are opposites, but they are not opposites of equal power. Light is stronger than darkness; darkness cannot prevail against it…Similarly darkness cannot overcome those who walk in the light. To witness for Christ often provokes the forces of darkness to violence, and Christian witnesses often become martyrs—a reality as true today in many parts of the world as it ever was in the Roman world of Christ’s time. Much of the world today is still in rebellion. It still prefers darkness to light, because its deeds are evil. That is true of all of us at certain points in our lives.

This same light pierces the darkest corners of our own reality of sins and failures. This same light motivates us more than guilt. No amount of good works can completely erase the guilt and stain of failure and sin from our past. We have the very real Spirit of the Living God whose ministry in the world is to reveal to us our need for a Saviour. This very same Saviour took our problem of sin and nailed it to the Cross. While the Holy Spirit convicts us of our sin, He then leads us to Christ, giving us the gift of faith that we might receive the grace of God. Christ’s forgiveness causes us to become new people. Then, by grace, we are able to walk in the new works that replace the old works.

The Word encompasses both word and deed. It is not us doing through God. It is God living His life through us. It is Immanuel, God is with us. We are called to proclaim the righteousness of God to celebrate the gift of life. We make God known in this world through our witness to God’s love. We stand on the strength of God’s love and reach out to embrace those God sends to us.

At this joyous Christmas time, we can’t even attempt to understand the Word. All we can do is stand in awe and wonder beside the crib, seeing in and through the child “the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth”. The light is visible in the Child AND in all who are struck by the light that comes from the Child.