#The maker may take the souls but someone still has to care for the graves

[vaguely-concerned]

the relationship between the chantry and the mortalitasi in nevarra is SO fucking funny. the carefully politic and civil syncretism of it all. the ‘I’ll refrain from scratching your back to bloody shreds if you refrain from scratching mine :)’. left hand politely averting its eyes from whatever the fuck the right hand is doing merrily up to its elbow in entrails because it usually knows what it’s doing I guess. speak softly, and have an army of the restless dead ready to go banapants horrorshow bonkers if you don’t get to tend to them. We Receive: being able to keep doing our goth thing mostly unimpeded. You receive: us not raising the great majority to protest your unwelcome meddling. render unto the chantry what is the chantry's and unto the watchers what is theirs (or, with all possible courtesy you understand, else…)

[imaginaryelle]

Chapter 3: Memento, Mori ~2.5k Rating: Teen (may change in later segments) Warnings: temporary character death, blood, injury, suicide mention, imprisonment, violence, minor character death, mild gore Tags: MDZS, Wangxian, Role Reversal AU, Soulmates AU, Canon Divergence, Very AU okay, I’m warning you, soulmates + WWX living changes things. Note: This chapter was written for the @wangxianweek 2020 day three prompts "mementos" and "rebirth." Many thanks to @miyuki4s and @morphia-writes for awesome brainstorming and feedback! Summary: The clan elders made sure Lan Wangji would not be present for the siege of the Mass Graves, but even the discipline whip can’t cut a soul bond, and pain can’t dim Lan Wangji’s determination, even if his efforts consume him.

Wei Wuxian lives. The siege fails.

Thirteen years later, Lan Wangji wakes in a body that is not his own.

on tumblr: part one | part two

Dawn seeps into his awareness with slow light painted over his eyelids and the bright notes of birdsong outside. For a moment Lan Wangji can’t remember where he is—not the Jingshi—but the smell of rotting blood soon brings his surroundings back to mind.

Physically, the cell looks no better in daylight. When he again extends his senses he finds no change; no new beings have joined him in this prison under the shroud of night.

The body he found himself occupying is still weaker than he is used to, still hungry and thirsty, but he feels steadier for the sleep. All but one of the wounds on his arms have scabbed over, and that one remaining sends a shock through his fingertips when he touches it.

A curse, most likely. Perhaps related to the ritual that called him here.

It’s worrying, but not his most pressing problem; if he doesn’t find a source of water soon, he will lose what mental clarity he still retains. The demands of this body, so much less disciplined than his own, batter at his mind. The itch of blood and sweat on his skin is ever-present, but the single set of yi and trousers he wears is not cleaner than anything else in the room; even the sash is bloodstained. He resumes his meditations, sinking deeper than the night before.

His spiritual power is still reduced, but not quite so low; meditation does seem to help it coalesce into a more workable form as well.

So. He has a small amount of spiritual power, the clothes on his back, a forehead ribbon, a very weak spirit lure and a sharp shard of porcelain. He is barred from escape by a door which opens outwards, a lock, and a seal.

He takes a moment to tie the ribbon in place for whatever comfort that can offer and examines the door again, probing the seal cautiously. Perhaps he can negate it, or overpower it. It will be tricky without the ability to see or physically touch the talisman itself, but it’s theoretically possible. Alternatively, he could write a new talisman, in blood on torn cloth.

Of the two, attempting to remove the seal is more appealing; the spirit lure does not inspire confidence in future talisman creation attempts. He’s determining the exact positioning of the seal talisman when voices suddenly cut through the small morning noises of birds and wind over leaves, apparently partway through a conversation.

“—said only you should take the food,” says one voice.

“Is he here, that you need to quote him so faithfully?” asks another, the tone strident and irritated. “Was he cleaning up pieces of teacup yesterday because his ‘guest’ threw a fit?”

That explains the shard still in the room. Lan Wangji listens with more than his ears to confirm—there are two new presences inside the bright circling of space he can sense, but only two. In less promising developments, the abruptness of their presence implies that that circle is indeed restrained by a ward, and anything could be on its other side.

Outside the cell door, the conversation continues, the voices growing louder as they draw closer.

“I think you can handle one weakened, failed cultivator. He doesn’t even have a golden core,” says the first voice, still reluctant.

“I don’t care what he has,” voice two insists. “I want him incapacitated when that door opens.”

There are footsteps now, careless and too-heavy on raised wooden floorboards. One pair, the one lagging behind, favors the right side. Perhaps an injury, or something carried on that side.  This close, Lan Wangji can also hear a soft rattle of wood against wood, perhaps the mentioned food. He moves to the side from which the door will open and considers his options. He has no chance against a spiritual weapon of any caliber, but if he moves quickly enough—

“If we use the talisman too much it could kill him,” says voice one.

“So then we say he killed himself,” says voice two, very close now.   There is the scrape of a bar being removed. “We can’t be blamed if he’s dead when we open the door, right? He’s been locked in a room on his own.”

Two assailants who barely care whether he lives or dies. Who are willing to kill him, so long as such an act does not draw the ire of a superior. Lan Wangji holds his shard of porcelain carefully in his right hand, nearest the door, and raises his left hand to his face, two fingers pointing to Heaven. He may, just, have the spiritual strength to shield from a talisman, depending on the skill of both maker and caster.

He doesn’t have time to make another plan; iron turns against iron, and the seal dissipates. The door is opening.

“Ugh, that stink,” says the bearer of voice two as Lan Wangji begins to move. “Look at the blood—”

Lan Wangji clears the doorway and slashes a clean line across the speaker’s throat. A talisman flies toward his face but he catches it against his fist and—stumbles back, blood filling his throat and streaming from his nose. He staggers and coughs, fighting to breathe, to see.

The first of his targets is slumped on the floor. The second is reaching for his sword. Lan Wangji rushes him, aiming for that heavier right side and slamming him into the wall. He struggles again with the shard in his fist until the blood that coats his hand is not only his own and this assailant, too, falls.

For a moment Lan Wangji only stands in a sun-warmed hallway and shakes, and breathes.

Blood drips down his chin; he wipes it away with his sleeve. Once again, his spiritual power is a guttering vagueness near his center. His right hand stings, fingers and palm both lacerated, but he cannot let go of the shard until he is certain. He drops to his knees to check for breath, but the second man is well and truly dead, his eyes open but unseeing and his throat a ragged mess. The first man is also still and lifeless.

The outer ward is still in place. No new presence has arrived.

He has a few moments, at least. Perhaps longer. He tucks the shard into his sash with fingers that tremble no matter how he tries to control them, and examines his situation once more.

The door is open, and this hallway, at least, appears unguarded. His assailants wear outer robes of rough, dark blue linen that he doesn’t recognize as belonging to a known Sect, but their inner robes are finer, pale cotton and silk with delicate stitching, so the outer garments are likely a deception rather than daily wear. They each bear spiritual swords that will do Lan Wangji no good at this body’s current level, and the second one also carried a pipa, the neck and frets of which snapped in the struggle. The weapons carry gold detailing, but no peony. Nothing that points definitively to Jin Guangyao or the Jin Sect, or any Sect he knows. Nor does the iron key for the door’s lock bear any identifying stamp.

His hands are still shaking.

The tray of food was upset in the struggle, but some small amount of rice still remains in the dish and a wax-sealed gourd proves to hold water. He drinks half of it, then tears a strip from the cleanest of the dead mens’ sashes, wets it, and wipes carefully at his face and wounds. Aside from the curse mark, the cuts in his right hand are now the most worrying, one lancing long and deep at an angle across his palm. He wraps it carefully, tightening the knot with his teeth when all other attempts fail. Even careful rinsing cannot wash the taste of blood from his tongue.

He needs to keep moving. This progress is only progress so long as he can hold onto it. If there is a way to delay pursuit, he must take it.

He drags both men into the cell and removes their outer robes and sashes. Stained and rough as they are, they will still provide a moment’s doubt to his identity, and he will not surrender to the shame of approaching another being in only his blood-soaked underlayers if he can avoid it.

He’s going to have to approach someone, eventually.

He knows who he wants it to be.

Later, he can think about that later. He eats the rice and cleans up as much of the spill of food and blood as he can. Then he moves the dishes and the men’s weapons into the cell as well.

The array is too obvious a clue to leave it undamaged—even if he cannot decipher it, that doesn’t mean whoever arranged this prison will not recognize it.

He starts at the edges, breaking the circle carefully in case of residual backlash. The blood is dried and flaking, and he uses another torn rag to smudge it into more of a smear than any sort of defined, focused shape. Then he positions one of the dead men over the space, face down to perhaps prevent questions about additional blood, and moves the other out of sight from the door. In their sleeves he finds a jade pendant that tingles against his fingers, a sachet of medicinal herbs, a sachet of chrysanthemum tea, five talismans and a qiankun pouch holding another gourd of water, a comb, and a pair of leaf-wrapped zongzi.

Just the smell of the zongzi makes his mouth water, but escape is more pressing. He puts everything but the water gourds and the pendant in the pouch, along with three of the pipa’s four silk strings and the polished wooden rice bowl. The remaining string he tucks beside the porcelain shard.

Neither of his assailants’ boots fit well, but they will serve far better than bare feet. He wraps one sash around his left arm, covering the curse mark, layers one outer robe over the other despite the gore that coats their collars and promises himself he will wash as soon as an opportunity presents itself.

He leaves the cell, closes the door, and locks and bars it.

He can sense no new presence inside the ward. There are other rooms along the hall, and an opening onto a courtyard beyond it.

None of the other rooms are cells, or locked. Most are empty of all but the faint smell of dust. One holds a small writing desk with a brush, ink stick and stone, paper, and a sheaf of notes he can’t read. He wraps the brush and ink stick carefully and folds all of it into the qiankun pouch. He does it again with the mobile contents of the next room: paper twists of tea, a small cloth bag of rice, a small earthenware bowl and two small bottles—one of soy sauce, one of vinegar. A horsetail whisk he tucks into his sash; this one was clearly designed for shooing insects rather than combat, but better than the makeshift weapons he’s accumulated so far.

The ward burns against his awareness as he nears the courtyard, and he stops in the shadow of the hall to watch that brightly sunlit space carefully.

Birds flit across the space. Insects buzz. Between two buildings he can see trees swaying gently in the light summer breeze, a promise of shadowed shelter beyond this place.

It would be easy to stop here. To meditate until he no longer feels as though his muscles will betray him at any moment.

The longer he stays still, the more likely someone is to come investigate why his assailants haven’t returned.

He closes his eyes and allows himself ten slow, steadying breaths. The ward hums at him. The jade pendant in his sleeve vibrates in response. Like the wards of Cloud Recesses, and the jade pass token he wore for nearly half his life.

If he’s wrong, the ward could rebound on him, and in his present state that would likely knock him unconscious. But this ward is a much stronger, more permanent working than the array he woke to, or any of the talismans he’s encountered thus far. If he’s wrong, he has no way to move outside it anyway. If he’s right …

He steps into the courtyard and walks to the very edge of the carved stone that marks the boundary. Nothing impedes his hand, reaching in front of him. Neither ward nor token shift in resonance.

He steps over the ward.

It hums merrily behind him.

He runs for the trees and doesn’t stop until he hears moving water. It’s only a small stream, but it’s enough to clean himself, and his clothing, and he removes only his boots and the contents of his sash and sleeves before he wades in eagerly. The water is cold, but not nearly as cold as Gusu’s Cold Spring, and the sun is warm on his back as he soaks, and scrubs, and then lays all but the inner trousers out to dry as he re-binds his wounds and combs his hair.

It’s only when he catches sight of his reflected face that he remembers: this body is not his body, for all that he is bound to it, and feels its pain and hunger and weariness.

He examines the face more closely and finds it familiar, but only vaguely so. A face he has not seen in many years, and rarely before, but one that did live within the walls of Cloud Recesses in his memory. A disciple who left the Sect for—family reasons, he thinks. After the Sunshot war. His brother had been disappointed about it. Lan Wangji cannot remember the man’s name. He must have kept the forehead ribbon as a memento.

It’s disconcerting, that this man, this cultivator, knew Lan Wangji’s name well enough to summon him from death but left no strong impression on him during life.

He shakes the thought away and finishes combing and tying up his hair, and then busies himself refilling the water gourds. He trickles a pinch of the chrysanthemum tea into one and sets in the sun to brew. Then he eats one of the sticky, red-bean-stuffed zongzi, and turns his mind to the question of where to go next.

It occurs to him that he may be able to reach his spiritual senses further now, outside the prison’s ward, and so when he has finished his paltry meal he meditates, sinking as deeply as he can. His range is still not as far as he’s accustomed to, but the flow of energy is much clearer. To the north he can feel a collection of power, a static array, strong but far off. To the south another, further away and indistinct.

South, the small tug he associates with the soul bond informs him, and the relief he feels that that connection remains threatens to overwhelm the sensation itself. He should go south.

South, to Wei Ying.

on to part four

[akechicrimes]

Prompt 19 for Shuake? I read it and my brain immediately “̶A̶̶n̶̶g̶̶s̶̶t̶ Material for New Game+” (Just a suggestion)

19. “Do you want to know the hardest thing about having a soulmate? It’s not the separation in the beginning, not the endless nights lying awake, hoping and praying that someone was made for you. It’s…it’s the love. It’s too strong, and you can’t fight it. I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried…but I’m always going to love you. And I need you to know that.”

summary: goro akechi meets his soulmate akira kurusu, falls in love instantly, and immediately resolves to kill him.

When Goro is twelve, he hates two people equally: his father who he’s never met, and his soulmate who he’s never met. When Goro is eighteen, he meets Akira Kurusu, falls in love instantly, and resolves to kill him.

***

“Oh,” says Sae, when he walks into work next. “Take the day off, Akechi-kun.”

“That’s entirely unnecessary--!”

“I will be liable in court if I make you work,” says Sae promptly, and before his very eyes, starts to move case files over onto his (very small) section of her desk. “You met your soulmate, you get a whole two weeks of paid leave. Goodbye.”

“I didn’t meet my soulmate,” says Goro, trying very very very hard not to snarl.

“You’ve got lovesick all over your face,” Sae replies.

Goro immediately pulls out his phone and checks himself in the front view camera, because Goro’s only dedicated entire years of his life to having perfect, flawless control over his face and public image and it’s simply not possible that one scruffy-haired teenaged boy who probably doesn’t even wear deodorant could undo all his hard work, but no, Sae’s right, Goro’s got this hideously piteous wide-eyed fawning look like he’s some kind of blindly dedicated fangirl star-struck over a local celebrity. Goro has the sudden compulsion to break his phone, and maybe get rid of Akira Kurusu’s phone number while he’s at it.

“Enjoy the honeymoon period,” says Sae. “Don’t come back or I’ll get sued.” She thinks about it. “I think you may have to still go to school. You seem to have met your soulmate unusually young, so you may want to check if your school has a policy on it.”

“Right,” says Goro. His fists curl; the leather gloves creak. “I’ll... go, then. If anything happens with the Kamoshida case--”

“I will not call you before two weeks is up.”

“How... very kind of you,” says Goro with determined pleasantry, as if she’s not booting him off the very case that Goro worked for two years to have an opportunity to even look at, not to mention the case that Shido will have his head for if Goro screws up.

Maybe Sae hears it in his voice, because she pauses, and gives him the neutral look that could very well pass as her smile. “When your leave is up, the case will still be here. You only get to meet your soulmate for the first time once. It’s a special time. You could try to enjoy it.”

Just then, Goro’s phone buzzes with a text from--ugh--Kurusu, speak of the soulmate devil: My school just told me to take the day off because of soulmate stuff, is that legal?? Goro’s heart jumps. Sae does smile then, in that smug, triumphant way she does when she’s just won a legal case. “Have fun,” she says, and in the reflection of Goro’s phone screen, he can see himself smiling against his will.

***

There’s nothing for it. Goro’s just going to have to kill Kurusu. Or put him in jail, or make him go psychotic, or hand him over to Shido or his cleaner friend for disposal. Whatever works. But Goro cannot continue on with this shackle around his throat.

Life is a series of unfreedoms: first you can’t choose who you’re born to, sometimes strung up with a bunch of birth complications, possibilities carved away from you by the map of your genetics and DNA predispositions. Then all the things you can’t afford: maternity leave, a good diet, child care, a good preschool. More still: Duck and bow your head to the social workers, the school teachers, the bosses who want nothing more than to fire your mother for the slightest mistake. Don’t speak too loudly. Don’t make eye contact. When your mother dies, you can’t cry too loudly at her funeral or it’ll make your aunt mad. No, you can’t afford the train fare to visit her grave.

And people have the nerve to say: Oh, isn’t it romantic to have been assigned a soulmate from the moment of your birth? Isn’t it wonderful? Isn’t it reassuring to have no choice in who you love?

Isn’t it the peak of romance that one day, you just look across a TV studio and your entire life gets turned upside down? The entire insides of your head gets rewritten according to some cosmic match-maker game. All of a sudden, you’d take a bullet for some shitty kid in glasses you’ve never met. And it doesn’t matter what you want; it doesn’t matter what you need. You love him and you can’t even hate him for it.

Isn’t that romantic?

Maybe Goro shouldn’t have been surprised when the public started thinking that a group of thieves reaching inside the heart of another person and forcing them to admit their crimes could constitute as justice.

***

Shido doesn’t give a shit about Goro’s soulmate problems and also Goro would rather sit on a cactus and spin than tell Masayoshi Shido that Goro’s fucking soul is tied to the very thieves that are currently being a pain in Shido’s ass, which is to say that Shido calls him on the subway and rattles off three more Mementos targets that he wants taken out before the end of the week and Goro has no choice but to simper and nod and tell Shido yes sir, anything he wants, sir, right away, sir. Halfway through the phone call, Goro realizes that he could just tell Kurusu that Goro’s a murderer, and Kurusu, the leader of the righteous and just Phantom Thieves himself, would have no choice but to love Goro anyway, murders and all, murderer and all; and it wouldn’t even be a lie, wouldn’t even be an obligation; Kurusu would love him genuinely and sincerely and he wouldn’t even be able to stop himself, even if he came to hate himself for it. Shido hangs up on him. A nice old lady next to him says, “Did you get some good news, dear?” and Goro realizes that he’s grinning ear to ear.

***

Well, if Goro’s going to kill Kurusu, then he might as well meet the boy before he does--especially if Kurusu’s offering. Since they both have the days off and nothing better to do than to figure out what to do with the person they’ve found their soul bound to, Kurusu suggests that they meet up at some place called Leblanc, which, if Goro isn’t wrong, is the same place that Sae’s been hounding because of that child neglect case. Goro reminds himself that Kurusu has no choice but to love him because of this stupid soulmate thing, and therefore it’s patently ridiculous that Kurusu will have much of an opinion on the state of Goro’s hair. Goro fixes it anyway. He also brushes his teeth in lockable restroom in a Wild Duck Burger place. Almost leaves, then goes back and applies deodorant.

This is the stupidest thing that’s ever happened to Goro. Kurusu’s the phantom thief Goro’s trying to catch. Odds are Shido will have Kurusu killed or put in jail within the next eight months. Goro walks into Leblanc, sees Kurusu lurking in the corner booth in his school uniform, and feels his own heart do a dozen cartwheels. Oh, wow, Goro really does love him and he doesn’t even know him. This isn’t stupid. This is disgusting.

Goro isn’t familiar enough with Kurusu as a person to know what his stare means, but the man behind the bar apparently does. “Take it somewhere else, lovebirds,” he says. “Actually--for god’s sake, Kurusu, take him somewhere nice for the occasion.”

“Here is nice,” says Kurusu.

“Somewhere fancy. Geez, have some class and show your soulmate a good time.”

“Upstairs is nice,” says Kurusu.

“No it’s--ugh,” says the barista, and mutters something about kids these days as Goro considers the possibility that Kurusu is going to try and show his love by skipping straight to the part where they fuck on the first date, and Goro will have the pleasure of cutting his own soulmate’s dick off. Greatly cheered by this opportunity, Goro says his hasty goodbyes to the barista and goes upstairs, curious to see the room of the boy that he’s going to have the honor of murdering.

Goro takes the couch. Kurusu sits at the desk chair. (Not backwards, thank god.) “How good to see you again,” Goro lies cheerily. “Have you been well, since we last spoke?”

And Kurusu--Goro doesn’t know why he thought the boy from the TV station, who argued with him on live TV, would disappoint him--Kurusu looks him square in the eye and says, “The soulmate thing doesn’t have to matter.”

“Oh?” says Goro, and leans forward. Why did he think Kurusu wouldn’t make an interesting move? It’s Kurusu. Of course he’d approach the soulmate issue with the same fascinating approach that he took to justice itself. “Most people would say it matters quite a lot. Most people would be delighted to have found true love. So young, too.”

“Are you?” asks Kurusu.

Goro blinks like he’s been thrown an unfair question in a TV interview. Kurusu smiles, slow, sure.

“Not to sound like a cynic,” says Kurusu evenly, “but it doesn’t feel much like love if it’s not a choice.”

Goro’s smile widens. “Is free will a prerequisite of true love, then?”

“If it’s going to mean anything that’s worth anything.”

“Even if such free will costs you your shot at happiness?” Goro presses.

Kurusu doesn’t blink. “Would you be happy, chained to someone you love but had no choice in loving?”

Obviously fucking not, but Goro doesn’t want to hear that from Kurusu, because it makes Kurusu sound like he understands Goro, and the last thing Goro wants to hear from the boy he’s going to kill is that he’s not just Goro’s soulmate, but his soulmate for a good reason. 

“The idea of soulmates is a practically immoral phenomenon,” says Goro, so as to avoid the question. “At some point, it’s hardly any different from brainwashing or psychological manipulation, or even Stockholm syndrome. But the fact of the matter is that it’s a widely documented phenomenon, too. There’s no doubt that it’s real, and it exists, and that you and I are bound together. Speak practically, Kurusu. What are you proposing we do?” Besides just murdering you in Mementos, Goro thinks and doesn’t say.

“Pretend it didn’t happen. It doesn’t have to matter if we don’t let it,” says Kurusu. “I’m only in Tokyo until the end of this school year, too. We just have to wait until then, and then I’ll be hundreds of miles away and it won’t matter anymore.”

“You’re proposing that we outwit fate itself.”

Kurusu pushes his glasses up. Behind his hand, his lips just barely turn upwards. “Don’t think you can do it?”

Goro’s eyes narrow and his smile sharpens. “On the contrary, I’m only worried you won’t be able to keep up with me.”

“It’s a deal, then,” says Kurusu.

“We’ll choose our own paths of our own free will,” Goro agrees, “and we won’t let such a silly soulmate phenomenon determine the course of our lives.”

Kurusu’s smiles softly and takes Goro’s offered hand and shakes it. And for just a moment, Goro’s heart doesn’t feel like a besotted, weak traitor, but entirely at peace.

[emilesmuseassemblya]

These Lifetimes

A small gift I made @thefollowhollow / @southernsolutions ,  because it’s been our anniversary recently and I know its been struggling with its muses lately.  (It also has more of a ‘special message’ to it, but will send that to you in private!)

The cover art is by juuji (I wanted to link to the blog directly, but they're deactivated. :(),  levaas,  growlystars​  and  jantelaw.

The songs are in no particular order and new ones will be add in time, but this is them as they are now:

SIDE A

You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground Dig them up; let's finish what we've started Dig them up, so nothing's left untouched

Flaws   Bastille

I'm a sucker for all the subliminal things No one knows about you (About you) About you (About you) And you're making the typical me Break my typical rules It's true, I'm a sucker for you 

Sucker  Boyce Avenue & Connie Talbot

'Cause you brought out the best of me A part of me I'd never seen You took my soul wiped it clean Our love was made for movie screens

All I want  Kodaline

You were the light that is blinding me You're the anchor that I tie to my brain 'Cause when it feels like I'm lost at sea You're the song that I sing again and again All the time, all the time I think of you all the time All the time, all the time I think of you all the time

The Anchor  Bastille

And take the pain Make it billboard big then swallow it for me Time-capsule for the future Trust me, that's what I will be Oh, the things that you do in the name of what you love You were doomed but just enough You were doomed but just enough

Church  Fall Out Boy & nothing, nowhere

She got blood cold as ice And a heart made of stone But she keeps me alive She's the beast in my bones She gets everything she wants When she gets me alone Like it's nothing She got two little horns And they get me a little bit

Horns  Bryce Fox

Crawling back to you, (do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay (Baby we both know) That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

Do I Wanna Know?  Artic Monkeys

Is it just our bodies? Are we both losing our minds? Is the only reason you're holding me tonight 'Cause we're scared to be lonely? Do we need somebody just to feel like we're alright? Is the only reason you're holding me tonight 'Cause we're scared to be lonely?

Scared to be Lonely  Boyce Avenue

You're never gonna love me, so what's the use? What's the point in playing a game you're gonna lose? What's the point in saying you love me like a friend? What's the point in saying it's never gonna end?

Lies  MARINA

Still waiting, hands shaking Maybe the coast will clear But these voices, these strange noises They followed me in here

Panic Room  Au/Ra

If you'd been a dog They would have drowned you at birth Look into my mouth It's the only way you'll know I'm telling the truth

Knives Out  Radiohead

God that was strange to see you again Introduced by a friend of a friend Smiled and said "Yes I think we've met before" In that instant it started to pour, Captured a taxi despite all the rain We drove in silence across Pont Champlain And all of the time you thought I was sad I was trying to remember your name

Your Ex-Lover is Dead  Stars

SIDE B

One of us Won't last the night Between you and me it's no surprise. And there's two of us Both can't be right Neither will move till it's over.

Center of Attention  Guster

I've had enough of scheming and messing around with jerks My car is parked outside, I'm afraid it doesn't work I'm looking for a partner, someone who gets things fixed Ask yourself this question: do you want to be rich?

Opportunities  Pet Shop Boys

One for the money, two for the show I love you honey, I'm ready, I'm ready to go How did you get that way, I don't know You're screwed up and brilliant And look like a million dollar man So why is my heart broke?

Million Dollar Man  Lana Del Rey

I've found love in the strangest place Tied up and branded, locked in a cage I say I'm gonna stage a great escape Let loose and love all But baby we're out of place

Problems  Mother Mother

What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me? What are you wondering? What do you know? Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me? When we all fall asleep, where do we go?

Bury a Friend  Billie Eilish

Love runs it's course A mark on a scoreboard So I nail my heart Under the floorboards

Call my Name  the Unlikely Candidates

Give me tough love and a lesson to learn Your tough love is what I deserve Sweet tough love, you're my pretty good luck charm There's no place I'd rather be than in your arms

Tough Love  Avicii, Vargas & Lagola

It's not the way I planned it Don't you misunderstand it I'll be running, I'll be running into murky waters Your reputation's well known I should have left you alone I'll be running, I'll be running into murky waters It's not the way I planned it Please don't leave me here stranded

Murky Waters  Autoheart

It's a cold cold war Between the vain and valuable I can't take it I can't take it no more It's a cold cold war Ask myself what I want more Something lifeless or someone to adore I'm overzealous

Cold War  Foreign Figures

Some kill, some steal, some break your heart And you thought that I would let it go and let you walk Well, broken hearts break bones, so break up fast And I don't wanna let it go, so in my grave I'll rot

Revenge  XXXTENTACION

SIDE C

There's a snake on top of every ladder Who will tell you that he's your best friend Everyone important needs an adder But subtraction gets you in the end 

Snakes and Ladders   Men At Work

You turn the screws You tear down the bridge Flimsy as it is, it's business like You shake my hand You break up the band Flimsy as it is, it's open-mike punk rock Red white and blue (whoa)

You Turn the Screws  Cake

Pyramids of money silhouetting in your dreams Pyramids of money pirouetting in your dreams Pyramids of money that you'll probably never see, It's true

Pyramids  Man Man

Because you had to be a big shot, didn't you You had to open up your mouth You had to be a big shot, didn't you All your friends were so knocked out You had to have the last word, last night You know what everything's about You and to have a white hot spotlight You had to be a big shot last night

Big Spot  Billy Joel

They wanna get my Gold on the ceiling I ain’t blind Just a matter of time Before you steal it It’s alright Ain’t no guard in my house

Gold on the Ceiling  The Black Keys

You're a fraud and you know it But it's too good to throw it all away Anyone would do the same You've got 'em going And you're careful not to show it Sometimes you even fool yourself a bit It's like magic But it's always been a smoke and mirrors game Anyone would do the same

Smoke and Mirrors  Gotye 

You've got the money maker They showed the money to you You showed them what you can do Showed them your money Make you get out out out oh yeah You'll get out out out oh yeah

The Moneymaker  Rilo Kiley

As a kid, I was idolizing Millionaires and all the presidents

But I don't trust them anymore No way, no way, no, not again And I may never trust at all No way, no way, I'm over them

I Don’t trust U Anymore  Left at London

[allisondraste]

24. “If only you knew what you’d brought upon yourself.” (From the angst Prompts, for any OC and/or ship)

If you only knew what you brought upon yourself, indeed.  Thank you for this prompt, friend!  

Morrigan stood, staring down the dark wood of the door before her.  It was not a conversation she wished to have that awaited her on the other side.  How was she to convince a man who distrusted her in every sense of the word to share her bed?  How was she to persuade the former Templar recruit to take part in a dark ritual?  How could she ask so much of him while his lover, her friend lay awake in the next room?  She was not accustomed to feeling guilty, but tonight was a night of exceptions in more ways than one.

Of course, she had spoken with Lucia first.  She hoped the pragmatic woman would make this proposition for her.  After all, who better for the task than the one whose finger around which he was wrapped? She refused, however, believing that Alistair would do as she bade, no matter how he felt.  She insisted that Morrigan talk to him herself, and his decision would be his own. As frustrating as it was, Morrigan did not have any right to complain considering the circumstances.

Morrigan poised herself with a deep breath before bringing her knuckles to the door, knocking three times.  Rustling and footsteps came from the other side before the door swung open.

“Yeeees?” Alistair grinned like a fool, clearly expecting anyone but Morrigan.  As soon as he saw her, a scowl crossed his face, a frown and furrowed brows where his smile had been. “Oh. It’s you. What do you want?” There was an edge to his voice that was ever present when he spoke to her, an edge she supposed she had earned.  

“I would have a word with you, if you are willing,” Morrigan answered hesitantly.  He must have sensed her unease, as his expression softened in a way she’d never seen directed toward herself.

He squinted suspiciously, but relented; sighing and opening the door completely for her to enter.  She closed the door, allowing her hand to linger on the wood, stomach churning at the thought of facing him. She had not expected for this to be so difficult.  Then again, she had not anticipated that she would care for the Warden with whom she traveled.  Her friendship with Lucia was an unfortunate, yet welcome, complication.

“You’re nervous,” Alistair remarked from behind her, amusement in his voice, “Damn.  It must be serious.”

“Indeed,” she said calmly, attempting to remain unprovoked by his teasing. It was not the time. “I would sit down, were I you.”

“No, I think I’ll stand. Thanks.” He crossed his arms belligerently and she fought the urge to compare him to a child.

“As you wish,” she said through her teeth, “‘Twas only a suggestion.”

Morrigan paused to consider her next words carefully, the silence stretching on uncomfortably as Alistair glared at her prepared to object at any moment.  

“I know what happens when the archdemon dies,” she began, “I know that a Grey Warden must be sacrificed to ensure that the beast is slain.”

“Oh really? And just how did you know that?”

“Flemeth taught me many things.  Some of these things could be invaluable to you in the coming hours if you wish to survive, if you wish for Lucia to survive.”

“Go on,” his voice was wary, but he was still listening, a good sign.

“I happen to know a way out, a very old ritual, that will make it so a Warden need not die.”

“How convenient,” he balked, “Have you known this the whole time?”

“Yes,” she admitted, turning away from him and tracing a dusty bookshelf with her fingertips. “‘Tis why my mother sent me with you, why she saved your lives in the first place.”

“So that you could perform a ritual to spare us out of the goodness of your heart?” Alistair laughed bitterly. “Unlikely.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” She stopped her movements and held her voice steady despite the hurt mounting inside her.

“I don’t know,” he said sarcastically, with an emphatic shrug, “Maybe because don’t care for anyone but yourself.”

Morrigan turned abruptly, eyes locking with his intently. “I care for her,” she snapped, “‘Tis perhaps the only thing we have in common, you and I.”

“Yes...well…” He deflated, obviously unable to conjure up an argument against that.  “Maybe you should be having this conversation with Lucia, then.”

“I have already spoke with Lucia,” she sighed, “She wishes the decision to be yours.”

“What? Me, deciding things? That’s a horrible idea,” Alistair laughed, “Why would she say that? My opinion on rituals has never mattered before.”

“This ritual,” Morrigan began, pausing to consider her words carefully, “Requires your... participation.”

He squinted.  “My participation in what way, exactly?”

She inhaled deeply, shame creeping at the corners of her consciousness for what she must ask. “It would require that we lay together tonight, so that a child may be conceived, one who bears the Grey Warden taint.”

Alistair’s eyes widened, his lips pressing into a thin line.  Yet, he said nothing, so she continued. “When the archdemon is slain, it’s essence will seek out the child as if it were a beacon.  At such an early stage, the child will be able to absorb that essence without being destroyed, as a Grey Warden would be.”

He blinked several times and shook his head, then sat down on the edge of his bed, raking nervous fingers through his hair.  He sat silently for several moments before speaking.  

“Either you have a twisted sense of humor, or fate does.”  He laughed, clearly in disbelief of it all. “This is why Flemeth sent you, isn’t it? All along this was your plan.”

“Yes.”

“And you expect me to believe that this will work?”

It was Morrigan’s turn to laugh bitterly.  “No. I expect nothing, but I hope you are  willing to take the risk, to spare an unnecessary loss.”

“If I were to consider this,  and I’m not saying that I am… what’s in it for you?”

“Aside from protecting the life of a dear friend and someone important to her?”  Morrigan moved to sit beside him, surprising herself with the uncharacteristic gesture. “I would have a child who bears the soul of an Old God.”

“My child.” He turned to look at her, a pained expression crossing his face.  It was one she’d seen many times, but this was the first time it had ever had ever evoked sympathy. “My creepy demon baby.

“The child would not know you, Alistair.”

“Fine. My creepy demon bastard, then.” Alistair stood and paced about for some time, and then stopped in front of her. “And what did Lucia say about all this?”

“She said nothing,” Morrigan said with a sigh, “She did not wish to influence your decision.”

“Of course she’d try to be objective about something like this,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “I don’t understand how either of you think that this is even fair to ask of me.”

“‘Tis not fair. Few things in this world are.” She stood and moved to stand in front of him, meeting his conflicted gaze with her own.  

Alistair began to shake his head, hesitantly at first and then with more decisiveness.  “No,” he said, “I can’t.”

“Don’t be a fool,” she scolded, her patience with the man waning, “You would die, or have Lucia die when a solution stands before you?”

“Let’s say I agreed to this and slept with you tonight.  The ritual could work, and both Lucia and myself could live, but what then?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I don’t know if I’d be able to look at her again without being reminded of what I did.”

Morrigan opened her mouth to contradict him, but thought better of it.  It was not as if it would help her argument.

“What if it doesn’t work? What if one of us has to die anyway, or what if one of us dies before we make it to the archdemon?” His voice cracked with emotion. “Then, I would have spent what could be our last night together, having sex with another woman. I can’t do it.  I won’t.”

“It will work.  I swear to you, it will,” she pleaded with him.

“I’ve never trusted you.”  His voice was grave as he looked toward the ground. “Why do you think I would start now, when there’s so much at stake?”

“If you only knew what you brought upon yourself, upon her,” Morrigan hissed, no longer caring to bite her tongue, “You would risk Lucia’s life over what? Your honor?”

“I don’t intend to let Lucia die,” Alistair said calmly, unprovoked, “If Riordan fails to kill the archdemon the duty falls to me.”

“You think you could stop her from sacrificing herself,” she scoffed, a frustrated laugh escaping her, “Best pray to your Maker that you reach that dragon before she does.”

“Get. Out.” His words were sharp as blades and pointed at her.

“Very well,” she relented, resisting the urge to taunt him once more, “Have it your way.  Should you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Morrigan turned swiftly and exited the room, slamming the door behind her.  She did not pray, however, if she did would have prayed the foolish man would come to his senses.

[veridium]

oc interview meme

I was tagged by the lovely @trvelyans to write a hypothetical interview of one of my OC’s! So, I did everybody’s favorite ice-haired toasted cinnamon roll, Theia!

1. What is your name?

“I have a lot of names nowadays, I suppose. Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste, Your Worship. Maker, someone called me “Sarah” the other day, and I didn’t correct them. I suppose that says something about how jaded I’ve become with all my misnomers.“

2. What is your real name?

“What, not Goddess? Well, if you were to ask my Father, it would be Theia Sofia Trevelyan. I was given the prettiest name out of all three children, I should add.“ 

3. Do you know why you were called that?

“The name “Theia” means “holy,” an adjective my family is particularly fond of, as I’m sure their reputation entails. My middle name “Sofia” means wisdom, so quite literally, my parents wished to imbue me with “holy wisdom.” Maker’s breath, isn’t that some sick joke now?“

4. Are you single or taken?

“My occupation would insist single, the gossip would say taken many times and by many people. But, the truth? Hopelessly taken by one remarkable woman. Please tell her I said that, so she’s softened up when I tell her I ate the last piece of peanut brittle.“

5. Have any abilities or powers?

“Are you joking? Who doesn’t know the answer to that question after all I’ve been through. You cannot hide the fact that your body is a walking lightning rod when it’s gotten you in and out of the Fade twice, closed a Breach in the sky, and survived weaponized time magic.

But, for the sake of not sounding egotistical, yes, I do. I am a Mage who focuses on ice and storm abilities. I also have this most inconvenient mark on my hand that is embedded elven magic. Try bringing that up casually at parties.“

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

“It isn’t “being” anything if you’re honestly that good.“

7. What’s your eye color?

“Purple. Yes, purple. It’s a maternal trait that just happened to match with my powers. People think I’m so fashionable but I really could not help it.”

8. How about your hair color?

“Ice white, pale blonde? I switch between the two. Regardless of its category, it’s rather hard not to point out in a crowd. Another one of my family’s most generous gifts.“

9. Have you any family members?

“For better or worse, yes. My parents, though my Mother, Stefania Lisoleth Trevelyan -- Maker, she sounds as pompous as she was in real life -- has since passed. My Father, Tristian Trevelyan, still resides in the Free Marches. There’s my insufferable brother who is his namesake. My sister, Lucilla Victoire, is older and married to some nobleman I haven’t cared enough to get to know. You can spot us rather quickly, we’re the group of emotionally suppressed faces with icey hair.“

10. Oh? What about pets?

“I have a small cat whom I rescued from Crestwood. She is young and tabby in color, and I just adore her! I wish I was here more to actually bond with her. She wanders Skyhold rather freely, much to everyone’s chagrin. Her name is Obsidian, after the kinds of metals we found in Crestwood. I call her “Sid” for short.“

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

“If Ambassador Montilyet were to hear someone actually asked me to list out my dislikes, she’d be furious. I am rather obnoxious with my opinions. I dislike pretentiousness, disloyalty, and shallowness. So, perhaps I should say the vast majority of the Orlesian Empire.“

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?  

“Reading, practicing my magic, and provoking Josephine’s temper. I do not have the time for much else, these days.”

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

“Oh, plenty, yes. Pick a more specific category.”

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

“Are you joking, again? I swear you must be. If you must know, you can read whatever filthy periodical is making rounds in the towns and villages of Orlais.”

15. What kind of animal are you?

“This would be a fantastic question for Morrigan, I’d imagine. But as for me, I don’t shapeshift or liken myself to animals. Although, people suggest I look rather animalistic when I am in the heat of combat.”

16. Name your worst habits.

“I am very self-conscious and insecure at times. I take things personally, and I feel culpable when there is injustice. Though, I do not necessarily see that as a flaw all of the time. Plus, in this role I’m in, I feel it to be most fitting.”

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“Of course I do! After all, both the Hero of Fereldan and the Champion of Kirkwall are Mages, and women, for that matter. I would be foolish not to have admiration for them, and feel humbled in my own shoes. I also have quite a bit of respect for Cassandra and Leliana. They have stewarded this movement with courage and resolve in spades. I consider myself honored to be able to work with them and be a leader amongst their ranks.”

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

*A whole minute of feisty, jubilant laughter* 

19. Do you go to school?

“I used to, if you’d call a Circle that. Most would say “formal blood-bath with books,” but, there you go.”

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“I didn’t used to, but then I met someone who sold me on such dreams. While I do not really allow myself to aspire to such domestic joys, I do find that they have grown on me as ideals. However, Josephine and I are two women who do not know how to keep ourselves out of work or trouble. But, if I were honest, I’d marry her tomorrow if given the chance.”

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

I try my best to be a combination of intimidating and austere, but, I do have a following. Mostly of children, actually, especially the children of the Mages here. They scarcely have examples of Mages who are not demonized or erased from history, so, when they see us walking the halls or grounds, it’s like storybook characters come to life for them. I take pleasure in providing them with someone to look up to, even when I feel that I fail them sometimes. 

As for the adults, I would not wish to condescend and call them my fans, since they are putting their lives and livelihoods on the line for this cause. Especially those who joined us in Haven, when we had next to nothing. If anything, I am their fan.  

22. What are you most scared of?

“Letting everyone down, and proving to be less than the person who was needed. Losing the people I love, or endangering them unnecessarily. Being a fraud or imposter. Oh, and accidentally throwing out Josephine's stash of chocolates.”

23. What do you usually wear?

“I prefer a good fit of a hunter coat and breeches and some boots. When we travel, I am usually armored very well. On my off hours, a simple night dress would do. People say I have a flare for style, but, I am really just a product of my short-lived upbringing in the Free Marches. Women there are always smartly dressed, if not modest.”

24. Do you love someone?

“Romantically? Yes, completely. But I also love my friends, and my community here. Love, to me, is a protective and honorable virtue. The way I fight for what matters is by loving the person or the cause at hand. Perhaps that causes me more trouble than it’s worth, but, that is who I am.”

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

“How can you honestly expect me to answer that? Also, if you’ve ever asked someone who bleeds once a month, you’d be surprised.”

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

“Oh, joy.”

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

“My family is noble in our region, so I would say lower rung of the high class. The Free Marches is a self-governing province, at least, as much as one can be in the shadow of two Empires. If you have an long-winded ancestry in the region, you’re allowed a lot of privileges.”

28. How many friends do you have?

“Too many, especially the kind that likes to get into trouble for the sake of being a hero. You need some friends? Take mine, and give me a break.”

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Mediocre at best. You want a pleasurable dessert experience? Go with cake, always.”

30. Favorite drink?

“Tea, actually. I drink copious amounts of wine, sure, but nothing soothes the soul like a good cup of tea. Solas and I have engaged in discourse about this matter plenty of times.”

31. What’s your favorite place?

“If I were to answer that honestly, Josephine would have my clothes set on fire. Something about “not disclosing the intimate nature of a Diplomat’s life” or whatever. So, I will name my second favorite: the Emerald Graves at dawn, when the colors of the sky foreground the greens and blues on the land. It’s stunning, really. I hope I can commission a painter to recreate it so that I may have a piece of it forever.”

32. Are you interested in someone?

“Hah, as Dorian would say, yes of course, I am a endlessly interesting person, after all.”

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

“Enough. They’re enough.”

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

“Swimming in an ocean? The thought of it brings me ecstasy! Ocean, of course. Imagine the trouble I could get into, maybe make a few glaciers, float on an ice sheet...nevermind.”

35. What’s your type?

“Someone with the utmost integrity in their deeds, who has a golden heart and knows that kindness and compassion are two of the most powerful elements in the world. Also, if they are a fiery-tongued Antivan, that melts my icey heart, too.”

36. Any fetishes?

“I have tastes, of course. Though, I keep the number of people who are aware of them to a minimum, need-to-know basis.”

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

“A capable fighter knows a little bit of everything. I like creativity the most in love.”

38. Camping or indoors?

“Whichever gets me in the closest proximity to food.”

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

“Of course not, but, look at the time! I surely have to return to being the scourge on the land and Andraste’s chosen, right? Pfft, days were not made with my workload in mind, I’m afraid.”

40. Now it’s over!

“Fantastic. Do take care, and travel safe.”

I’m tagging @kvpowers, @the-rogue-apostate, @lelianasing, and @orlesianbard and anyone else who wishes to participate! Love and light!

[moreenchiladasplease]

tagged by the lovely @kizunah ! thank you! i love tag games!

1. who’s one of your favorite characters and why?

currently, since i’m reading the raven cycle, it’s gansey. honestly i love all the characters bcuz maggie is so fucking good at writing them. even the villians. and the gray man! fuck don’t even get me started on morally gray characters. going into the books i thought i would like ronan or adam the best just bcuz you raved about them a lot and usually those are the character i tend to love and i still very much love them but gansey man. he took me by surprise. 

he just has so much of my aesthetics. like he has a fucking mint plant bcuz he likes mint and somehow always unlimited mint leaves in his pockets for whenever feels like minty freshness. he was wire frame glasses. he lives in an old factory. he adds to his miniature model town when he can’t sleep. he has journals. and likes the fucking beatles!! he drives a broken down piece of garbage that’s probably held together by duck tape and he knows it and loves it. he is an old soul! he is an Intellectual™. but also Clueless™. he is such a fucking dad friend. always going “lynch” “parrish” jane”. and he’s so wholesome and such a good and caring friend and it kills him inside when he can’t help his friends and oh god oh god please help me i love him

2. last book you read – what did you think of it?

I finished the hate u give by angie thomas a couple of days ago and I absolutely loved it. it focuses on police brutality and racism also touches on various different topics like drug abuse, gangs, abuse, different views on interracial couples, etc. It was an incredibly powerful and impactful book. It was kind of hard for me to read bcuz generally, I read books to get away from the world we live in and this was very much the reality of the world we live in. the injustice of it. and angie writes it in a way that it is unapologetically honest. but it is so so important. I wrote a full review here on my book blog but it’s a spoiler-y so beware.

also I’m so excited to see amandla stenberg play starr. I’m gonna have to wait a few months to watch it (bcuz there are no frickin theatres here) but still... I know it’s gonna be great.

3. do you consider yourself a good decision maker?

these three words do not belong together   i really can’t say... maybe 72% of the time i am? yup that seems pretty accurate

4. preferred studying method?

pfffffftttt method? what method? i tend to study at my desk to avoid falling asleep. and i listen to lofi hip hop or jazz. and i usually study in 3 hour intervals bcuz i have trouble focusing for longer periods of time and have to take breaks. is that what you meant?

5. favorite word from your native language?

I don’t necessarily have a favorite word... but when I learned my Spanish alphabet I would like to say the letter ‘y’ over and over again because it was fun to pronounce. It’s pronounced  ~ i griega ~ which is really fun to say. I just really love Spanish and rollng my ‘r’s. 

6. do you have a problematic character you’d die for?

let me take a deep breath first will herondale (tid)! ronan lynch (trc)! the gray man (trc)! loki laufeyson (marvel). tony stark (marvel)! matt murdock (marvel)! jessica jones (marvel). magneto (marvel)! jason todd/red hood (dc)! sherlock holmes (sherlock). charlotte holmes!  todoroki shouto (bnha)! bakuboy (bnha)! itachi uchiha (naruto)! hohenhiem (fmab). greed (fmab)! i could go on forever but imma stop here

7. is there something you felt like you’d never be good at, but are somewhat decent at doing now?

I feel like my social skills have improved a shit ton. I used to not be able to speak to people without stuttering a lot or while holding eye contact for longer than 5 seconds. I used to not be able to order food for myself. And now I can interact with people better and I pick up on social cues better. And I smile at people I don’t know when I’m happy bcuz I feel like it and I like to spread positivity. things like this may seem small to other people but it’s not small for me. I think I’ve come a long way and I’m incredibly proud of myself for all of it.  

8. what’s your general temperament like?

i’m either mellow and chill or wild and weird. there is no in-between.

9. something you want to get better at?

my mentality. in general really. but something i’ve been struggling with a lot recently is not being able to not do anything. i love having lazy days i do. they allow me to relax and take a break from things that have been stressing me out. but the next day when I get back into it and start to get things done... I put myself down about taking a day off. about wasting time when i could’ve gotten so much done. this mentality is such a toxic one and I hate that I have it. I hate that I always have to be productive to consider myself useful. I hate that I can’t relax and enjoy myself anymore without my brain going into overdrive to tell me how much of a fucking waste of oxygen I am. I was very near to tears a couple of days ago because I took a few hours off of schoolwork bcuz I had a migraine and the whole time my brain wouldn’t shut up you’re wasting time you could be done with so many assignments by now you could be doing useful things right now you don’t know how to do jack shit why the fuck are you even in school if you’re not going to study why is mom spending valuable money on your education when you can’t fucking stick to your fucking schedule fuck

i hate that i have that mentality. and i would just like it to kindly fuck off.

10. something popular everyone else likes but you don’t?

fuck... ummmmmmm... i think it’d be easier for me to tell you something i like that is underrated or unknown... 

oh! um ferris beuller? that john hughes movie with matthew broderick. i mean, i like the movie, i just don’t love it like everyone seems to. it’s a nice light movie about teenagers skipping school and having fun. but i don’t like ferris bcuz he comes off as a sort of douche. escpecially towards his friend cameron, who very clearly has mental health issues that ferris tends to brush off quite a lot. so i don’t really understand why people rave about it so much.

11. before consuming books/movies, do you read reviews, or do you like going in blind?

I, for the most part, go in blind. I have a tendency to put things on my list, to eventually watch/read, because I hear good things about them or I myself just would like to consume the content, but a never get to it immediately. I get to it months later, sometimes a year or two later, when I’ve more often than not forgotten all about anything I’ve heard about it. but even then, I don’t generally read reviews because I don’t really care what other people think of it. The only people’s opinions I care about are my friends and family because I like to discuss the content I consume with people close to me. Especially if I feel strongly about said content. so, no, i don’t seek out reviews. it’s usually that i happen upon reviews and them i’m like ‘good to know i guess?’ i don’t rely on critics cuz critics sometimes don’t know what Good Content is

tagging @mllebabushkat @sengad-apollo @hannahdearr and also @kizunah if you wanna do it again and also @demfeeeels if you can dig out of your grave for a bit  : ) and here are my questions for you:

what is an unknown/underrated piece of media that you love?

what are five things you love about yourself?

do you read comics/graphic novels? any favorites?

what’s top 5 on your playlist right now?

what is something/someone that never fails to make you laugh?

recommend me some of your favorite tv shows/movies/books/music.

an unpopular opinion you have?

favorite disney soundtrack?

favorite word from your native language? (i’m stealing one of mariam’s question bcuz i love)

what makes your heart go mushy?

top 5 tropes you live for?

[evanrosierr]

EVAN ROSIER is A DEATH EATER in the war, even though HIS official job is as THE HEAD OF THE DEPARTMENT OF INTERNATIONAL MAGICAL COOPERATION AND FOREIGN AFFAIRS. the THIRTY year old PUREBLOOD is known to be PERSUASIVE and SHARP but also CORRUPTIVE and DESTRUCTIVE. some might label them as THE DEVIL ON YOUR SHOULDER. fc: chris evans

ANTHEMS.

ICARUS - BASTILLE // INTRO - THE XX // FRIEND OF THE DEVIL - MUMFORD AND SONS // NOT ME - TWO FEET // MALT LIQUOR - LEWIS DEL MAR // LETTING IN - BEAUVILLE.

pinterest board ------ did you ever have a heart?  full playlist ------- too bright, too harsh, too divine.

AESTHETICS // VIBES.

flying too close to the sun ( his life has just begun ), leather brief cases, ancient typewriters, a devilish grin, the absence of a heart, red wine, always getting even, wool sweaters, unfinished sketches, grinning as he approaches an early grave, dried paint on pale skin, ‘there’s a god in the dark and he’s got a hand between your thighs’, making friends with the devil, humming while cooking, always ready to make a new deal ( sell a new soul ), daring you to do something unspeakable, running headfirst into danger, writing long letters at the crack of dawn, collecting old books, half empty bottles of champagne, soft laughter as you take your last breath.

BACK TO BASICS.

name: evan edward rosier. occupation: head of the department of international magical cooperation and foreign affairs. nicknames: rosie, ev.

+ persuasive, sharp, well spoken, daring. - corruptive, destructive, stubborn, tyrannical. 

age: 30. date of birth: november 12, 1950. zodiac: scorpio. hometown: portsmouth, england. current location: lives in a penthouse apartment in london.  gender: cis male. pronouns: he/him. orientation: bisexual. spoken languages: english, latin and french fluently. can also get by on german, spanish, welsh. moral alignment: lawful evil / neutral evil. element: water. house: slytherin.

BACKGROUND // FAMILY.

Evan grew up as the lone heir to the Rosier legacy, and thus had to endure the overbearing attention of both of his parents. They both had teachings they wanted to instill ( his father, determined to make Evan strong, powerful ---- well adept at the dark arts. and his mother, equally as determined to form her son into a diplomat. someone who could use words to bend people to his will ). From his birth and onward, he became stuck in a tug of war. His mother pulling him one way, and his father pulling him the other. They could never find common ground, realize that maybe Evan could be both.

Eliana Malfoy and Edward Rosier were a far cry from the perfect parents, but the pureblood society have seen worse. 

His parents weren’t in a loveless marriage, at least not at first ( both had met at Hogwarts, knew each other quite well, used to be best friends ). But they were also very different people, and both were incredibly stubborn. Used to getting their way. Once upon a time, they used to be in love. Once the stakes were raised, they fell out of love ---- instead, becoming enemies, bound by marriage.

Both had vastly different ideas of how to do.... pretty much everything, and Evan was the only thing to unite them. After the wedding, they never got along, but stubbornly stayed married, always bickering over everything. Most arguments had Evan at its core. Should Evan learn German or French first? Should Evan be tutored by himself or with other kids? Should we really let Evan hang around Tom? Should you really teach Evan how to torture someone, already? As a child, Evan was more of an argument, a conflict, than he was a son.

Kind of grew up with two different personalities, depending on what parent was around? Sort of formed himself into whatever they wanted him to be, at that given moment. Mostly to just make the nagging, the bickering, the arguing stop. He grew tired of hearing their constant instructions / demands well before he left for Hogwarts. Most of it may have been well meaning ( or self serving ), but it was also constant. There is only so much advice that a ten year old can absorb.

His parents were also very adamant on forming strong connections for Evan, so he was forced to go to all of the parties and socialize with an abundance of pureblood kids ( constant play dates? yes ). There was also a bit of competition involved in this, since his mother was VERY determined that Evan should be better than all of the other pureblood kids. To her, he was more of a trophy, than he was a son.

Once his cousins were born, competition increased.

Evan was sort of an apathetic child? Just went along with whatever. 

Examples! Though he was never really drawn to torturing animals / muggles himself, his father wanted him to learn, so Evan obliged. Played the role he was meant to play. Nowadays, he only ever really tortures someone if it gets him what he wants.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was initially a friend of his father, and the two were heavily involved during the 1960s. Edward was part of Tom’s gang ( The Knights of Walpurgis ). But then Edward became a little too ambitious, a little too sly. Tom suspected a plot behind his back, and murdered his former friend in cold blood. At the time, Evan was eighteen, and had already idolized Tom for years. Evan ( none the wiser to how his father had met his end ), stepped into Edward’s shoes, taking over the role as Tom’s avid supporter and friend.

HOGWARTS YEARS.

Coming to Hogwarts was a relief. Though he received constant letters from both his mother and father ( with completely contrasting advice, telling him to do completely different things ), they were easier to ignore than their nagging voices. Finally, he could breath. 

Sort of started a correspondence with the family’s long time friend, while he was at Hogwarts. Tom’s advice and guidance always laid somewhere in the middle of what Evan’s parents wanted him to do, and sometimes, it went way beyond. While Eliana was raising Evan to be a diplomat, and Edward hoped for his son to become a tyrant, Tom seemed to see something else. The middle ground.

If it wasn’t for Evan’s talent for backdoor politics and back handed affairs, he would have made quite the Gryffindor. He’s a bit impulsive, so so brave, incredibly stubborn, willing to die for his cause, a little bit righteous, reckless to the point of it being lethal. It also helps that Evan doesn’t want to be a Gryffindor so.... we all know that the sorting hat listens to that.

But the Sorting Hat saw all that ambition ( his mother’s doing ), that slyness ( inherited from his father ), the longing for belonging ( Tom’s doing ) and the will of steel and decided that Evan would excel in Slytherin. And he would.

Evan joined the Quidditch team as a beater, and was notorious for being one of the few Slytherin beaters that actually played a fair game ( in contrast to his baby cousin smh ).

Also joined a fair amount of clubs while at the school. The dueling club, the potions club, the slug club, the astronomy club to name a few.

Did very well in school, and stayed out of trouble... mostly. Was eventually made prefect, and later head boy. Evan, though slowly acquiring a taste for violence and bloodshed, was bright enough to realize how to keep that part of himself in the shadows.

INSTEAD. Evan’s shtick was to make other people do bad things for him. He could talk almost anyone into doing almost anything. Making good people do bad things was ( and still is ) one of Evan’s absolute favorite past times.

Also... kind of known for being able to talk himself out of anything? At one point, it became a sport to see exactly... how much he ( and others ) could get away with. He would dare other Slytherins to do more and more elaborate things ( like jinxing muggle borns tbh ), and then he’d get them out of trouble.

On that note, Evan also became known as quite the deal maker while at the school. Would help others out, for something in return. Would also lowkey blackmail people into agreeing to different deals and unbreakable vows with him. 

Though the Death Eaters weren’t officially a thing until after Evan graduated, Tom was gathering up a following, and Evan ( who looked up to Tom quite a lot ), joined without hesitation during his sixth year. Pureblood principles had already been drilled into him by his parents, so it wasn’t a great leap for Evan to support his cause.

Evan is so devoted to Tom? He really, really believes in him as a person, and thus, his cause too.

AFTER HOGWARTS.

Evan started off his career in the ministry as the assistant to the head of the department of law enforcement, and he slowly worked himself up the ranks until he transferred to the department of international magical cooperation and foreign affairs, where he would shine. At the age of twenty four (1975), he was promoted to the head of the department.

Was originally a sleeper agent, as he started working within the ministry before the war started. He was very careful at the time, making sure to not associate with anything that could make him look like a suspected Death Eater. Purposefully tried to make himself look softer, warmer. Adopted a dog, started going for runs, brought in coffee for the office, got a girlfriend, a favorite Quidditch team. Everything and anything to make himself look like the everyman, a normal ministry worker, just trying to get by.

His department is considered to be quite difficult to run, especially during the height of a war. Evan was promoted after the former department head swiftly quit and left the country due to supposed exhaustion ( or maybe... someone had something to do with their very Odd disappearance.... hmmmmm.....  ). Either way. Evan took over, and has managed to keep his position for the last five years.

He’s sort of well liked within the ministry? He seems a lot less shady than some other ministry officials, so that’s a win for him.

Works a lot, and does a lot of traveling with work? 

Likes painting, and also art !!!! His father frowned upon his mother’s insistence of letting Evan develop his creative side, but art is just something that has stuck with him. In his apartment, he has a small studio in which he paints.

He’s currently part of Voldemort’s inner circle.

Runs his department with an iron fist.

Very much into brewing poisons ( was highkey good at potions while at Hogwarts too ), and poisoning people is kind of his thing? Like it’s his favorite way of getting rid of someone he doesn’t like. One would do best to never drink / eat something offered by Rosie... In case he suddenly doesn’t like you.

Currently living with his two dogs in a large penthouse apartment in London. 

AS A PERSON.

Bit snarky, has a rapid fire tongue. But also good at controlling himself, and lowkey always knows what to say. Can also be incredibly sassy, it’d be a problem if it wasn’t because he’s so controlled and knows how to hold his tongue.

Proud motherfucker. That’s his vice, his deadly sin. Ultimately how, and why, he will eventually be killed.

Was raised to be a constant paradox, and remains that way today.

ALWAYS OUT TO MAKE DEALS. That’s probably why he’s so good at his job. But he’s making deals with everyone else too, not just for his job. #crossroad demon

Always expecting something in return. Everything has a steep price when it comes to Evan.

Highly intuitive, mostly follows his gut instincts when doing... anything.

A diplomat to his very core ( #thanks mom ), and has a silver tongue. He’s good at getting what he wants. Very good at persuading people too.

Incredibly curious, wants to know how far he can make people go. How far he himself, can go. Also very much interested in seeing what makes people tick and how things work.

Good at making himself seem very warm, inviting, friendly. Whatever he thinks people currently want him to be, he becomes. If he cares enough. But really, he is fairly cold, very cut throat, incredibly ruthless. Constant calculation and logic runs deep in his veins, and he approaches every situation with immense planning and plotting.

Highkey looks down on people who are overly emotional ( which in his book, is basically showing any strong emotion at all ). Evan values logic, rationality, common sense.

Has cared about a total of like... two people in his life. It takes a lot for Evan to actually... give a fuck about other people? Like he just. Doesn’t care. Mostly cares about himself and his work.

Loves his mom a lot. Also a big fan of Tom. : ~ )

Sort of two faced. Can be warm one minute, ice cold the next. 

Thrives off violence, but is pretty lowkey about it. His favorite forms of violence are duels, explosions of magic, lethal spells, poison slipped into coffee cups. ALSO of course, making other people do stuff, let’s not forget That™.

Though he will also sometimes let off steam by just kicking someone’s ass / having his ass kicked. But that doesn’t happen very often. If at all. He mostly stays in his lane !!!!!! Way more into backdoor affairs like poisoning his opponents.

Very patient. Can make people bend to his will very slowly, asking for small favors, asking them to do small things. Before they know it, they’re doing something unforgivable, something maddening.

Good at talking!!!! Seems kinda nice even! What! Doesn’t seem like my type of villain at all!!!

Pretty rational. Cares about the big picture. Doesn’t mind waiting for a decade before acting ( # the long game ).

He’s gonna literally die next year because he’s too stubborn & proud to surrender and I think that says a lot about him and his personality.

STYLE / FASHION / APPEARANCE.

Evan has pale eyes that seem to go from a dull grey to an soft blue, depending on the lighting. His hair is a sort of honey blonde, almost brown color, and he wears it short and meticulously styled. He also wears a neatly trimmed beard, on most days, but also sometimes shaves it off.

Mostly wears well pressed, dark suits for work.

Outside of work, Evan is the type of person to wear wool shirts and knitted sweaters in earthy tones. Mostly wears leather boots. Looks very wholesome!!!

CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS ( under construction tbh ).

QUOTES:

" his skin tasted of wine and his voiced dripped of divinity; you’re so foolish, little lamb. nevermind, the story of Lucifer; this is the story they shall speak of, on how a man burned for his messiah” (x)

“ iv. you think of how, sometimes, he thrusts into you like feral, like animal, like redemption. you don’t have the heart to tell him he won’t find it here, don’t have the heart to tell him he’s damning you too. “ (x)

“ in case of flight, remember this: icarus belongs not to the sun, but to his drowning. “ (x)

“sunlight glinting off your skin, the trick is to be hollow, really, nothing inside, just empty. I remind you not to fall like icarus, but I forget you already have.” (x)

“apollo comes for you and he is too bright too much too harsh too divine too light. “ (x)

“ i. he bites your lower lip hard enough to draw blood and it comes out, dark and primal. everything is agonisingly slow and still - sometimes you forget he’s a warrior and he can go like this all day long. “ (x)

INFLUENCES:

a modern day dionysus - the same devilish smile, cheeky grins, the same tendency to corrupt, to ask that you do something unspeakable.

patch cipriano ( hush, hush ) - bit broody, very sly, always scheming. the fallen angel aesthetic.

kaz brekker ( six of crows ) - literally. cold and ruthless, cares little for morals. quick witted. always has a trick up his sleeve. 

icarus - how he meets his end. always pushing it a little too far. some situations you can’t talk your way out of.

elian ( to kill a kingdom ) - the quick wit, the smooth talk, the deadly demeanor. 

elijah mikaelson ( the vampire diaries ) - very controlling and cold. hardened emotions. ambitious and cruel. very clever.

clay haas ( quantico ) - polished, political, diabolical, a diplomat to his very core.

more to be added... later.... thats it for now

[mrshopkirk]

“To whom it may concern”

Characters: Steve x Bucky (Stucky), Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Long after Steve and Bucky have vanished, someone decides it is time to tell their story one last time and shed some light on an unsolved issue.

Warnings: some swearing maybe, love and loss, brief mention of suicide (if you read closely), not a lot of angst, I really don’t know if there is fluff in it

Word count: 2226

A/N: I figured this might be an interesting POV to tell Steve and Bucky’s story so let know if you enjoy it. And yeah, it’s another Stucky. Sue me. Thank you @abovethesmokestacks for proofreading. I love you, sweetheart. Feedback is appreciated.

*MASTERLIST*

To whom it may concern,

Let me tell you a story. One that is left untold but deserves to be told. A story about star-crossed lovers. A story about a love that had every force in nature working against it. A story about two men that deserved everything but received so little and yet I have never seen people be more grateful and content in the end. They deserve their own story. Whether or not this has a happy end is up to you.

So much about them is public and they wanted just one thing of their own. They trusted me to take it to the grave and I debated long and hard whether or not I would do this but I guess it suits me to break a promise in the precious time I have left on this earth. It’s been so long that it pains me to think about it. I never thought I'd make it this far or at least not in one piece. I’d hoped they would be here when my time came but they’re not and I can’t hold that against them. I never could hold anything against them.

People never really understood what happened at the time of the First Accords, as they are known now. They didn’t back then and now even less. Even I didn’t understand it at first either, but I do now. It’ll be the only leverage I’ll have when I meet my maker, the fact that I understand the meaning of true love.

My favorite stories are the ones they told me when the other wasn’t around. They were both the same really, eyes full of love, permanent smile etched on their faces, voices that spoke only of love. In the end, they were both my boys, my blond and my brunet.

I wonder what they must have been like before the war, before life decided to tear them apart and sew them back together. They were probably two dorks that stared in each other’s eyes like lovesick teenagers. That’s fitting because it all started when they were teenagers. They grew up together but they told me the love didn’t come into play until they were teens. I don’t believe that. I think they only realized they were in love then. I’m sure they were born out of love for each other. One was older than the other. That angel jumped from heaven first, right into his mother’s womb. Perfect, on point, purposefully. The other was an idiot that jumped after him because he couldn’t stand being apart that long. I sometimes wondered if that’s why he was so ill of health, because he jumped before his time. He couldn’t help it. He was reckless even before he began. He was reckless for him.

My brunet told me he admired the force of life the other had. He was full of it even though he hardly had any life in him at first. He said he was unbreakable. My blond was mesmerized by the elegance with which his love walked through life. He dealt with everything with all the grace he had even in times when there was no grace to be found. He said he was unbreakable. And that’s what they were, hard, pure and beautiful as diamands, indestructible as vibranium and bursting with love.

My brunet was a wound up tortured animal that had barely clawed its way out of its cage when I first saw him. There was little fight left in him because he never wanted to fight for much. Not for the world to see his innocence. Not for the injustice that was done to him. Not for revenge. He just wanted to live, breathe, eat and sleep in freedom.

My blond was something else. He had a lot fight in him. Too much for his own good. His anger was tempered by the loving touch of the other. I remember seeing him with his fists balled, teeth clenched, jaw set and then the same scenario ensued over and over again. Slowly a hand touched his shoulder, squeezed him a little and his features softened, time and time again. He turned around to be met with the sweet smile of my brunet who told him it was alright, that they had fought all their battles. They were so good for each other.

Never doubt. Never give up. Always fight for what you believe in. Always give your all. Never hold back. Forgive, even if you can’t forget or even remember things. Love as if it was the last day with your loved ones. Never go to bed angry. Say I love you every day. I learned all important things in life from them. They didn’t have to tell me. I witnessed them every day. They were perfect every day. I always tried to compare them to something, to the moon and sun, earth and water, plus and minus. It took me a while but I realize now that it is the other way around. Everything should be compared to them. It starts with them. They were the centers of each other’s world and they were two worlds orbiting around each other. They were a big bang in itself and everything evolved from them.

My lovely and ever gentle brunet was full of love and kindness. He intrigued me but he also annoyed the hell out of me. I thought he was delusional to hold on to the kind of love that inspires cliché Valentine’s cards. He just smiled at me.

“Natalia, it is all so very simple. He lives in my very being. He makes me smile when he comes home. I wonder what he’s doing when he’s away. He keeps me sane when I think I’m going mad and he’s mad for thinking I’m sane. He’s my high and low, my left and right, my round and square, my light and darkness. He’s my serious clown, my funny judge, he makes me laugh when I cry and he makes me cry from laughing. He lifts me up when I am down and he grounds me when I get carried away by too many dreams.”

He is also the one that taught me to lay down my arms in life and chase dreams like butterflies, that dancing in the rain and stomping your feet in puddles is more fun with bare feet than heavy boots, that wearing a summer dress doesn’t make you less strong than wearing tac gear, and that opening your heart is downright scary, even scarier than looking down the barrel of a gun. I knew what he meant when I met the love of my life. I wanted to run and hide but a gentle push from him was all it took for me to take a leap of faith because I wanted what they had.

My determined and courageous blond taught me a different lesson in love, an equally important one, when a beautiful and honestly sweet woman crossed paths with my then boyfriend and I. I figured he, and especially his two darling boys, deserved better, deserved normal and innocent. Someone who simply, well, grew up instead of someone that was made. He asked me if I loved my man.

“Then you hold on. Hold on to yourself. Stay true to yourself. You are enough”, he said.

So I did. I took a deep breath and got ready for the biggest fight of my life, the fight with myself. And then I understood my brunet when he said it was simple, that clichés are often true. I put myself out there, naked, bare, and it turned out I was enough. My man smiled at me and took my hand in marriage a few months later. So you see, I owe my entire life to them. Everything I feel, I feel because of them. They taught me everything I gave to my husband and his, or as far as I am concerned, our children.

The day they disappeared my world crumbled but I was lucky to have my family to guide me through that dark time. I never looked for them. You wonder why? Because they didn’t deserve to be hunted down again and least of all because I selfishly wanted them back. And trust me, I wanted them back. What I have done was everything in my power to stop the rest of the world from finding them. I’m not taking credit for their hiding. They were skilled enough. I used every connection, every favor someone owned me to set up false traces. Because none of you understood their reason, but I did. You all acted so offended that they left, like they owed you everything. Here’s the truth: they didn’t owe you anything, not a single damn thing.

I have hated the misconceptions about them every single day. So here’s the reason they left. It was only one, damage. Too much was damaged. Not their public personae, not their pride, not the invasion of their private life or whatever reason I have read in the media over the years. It was simply damage.

It was part of his classified medical file. All the world cares about is what they see and all you saw was the metal arm, but the years of memory wipes, cryo and injuries caused irreparable damage to his body and his mind. All things considered my boy did okay but having an inferior replica of the super soldier serum wasn’t good enough to fix the damage. No new version of the serum worked, no blood transfusions from the other, no stem cell donations, even Dr. Cho was powerless. His body grew old faster without cryo, the grey hairs on his temples evidence. Old injuries reared their ugly heads as he was put into cryo too many times with unhealed wounds. His brain was electrocuted too often and damaged beyond repair. He collapsed more and more often in the months leading up to their disappearance. He always smiled though, a content look on his face when he saw the love of his life when he opened his eyes. And that sweetheart always made sure he would be the first the other saw, spending entire days by his bedside, holding his hand, a never wavering belief that he would come back to him.

All because my precious boy still cared too much, felt too strongly, was too sensitive for this world. A gentle soul who was still giving his all despite everything. He was like a comet burning too fast, too bright, under scrutiny of everyone following and documenting his every move. It became too much. The world became too much. No-one knew how much time they had left together, how long my darling brunet could hold on, so they left. Of course they left. Wouldn’t you?

It would be fitting that my brunet will go to heaven before my blond. After all he was here first. And I think it’s safe to say that if he isn’t here anymore, my reckless blond wonder won’t be here anymore either. He’d pull down heaven to earth to be with him if that’s what it took. He’d jump from cloud to cloud to catch him. This burden, the darkest side of their love, was the one thing they could keep hidden from the public. They owned it and I hope they forgive me for telling you this.

Whoever reads this; I hope you will remember that they were once here. That they were more than Captain America and the Winter Soldier. That their names were Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes. That they were more than soldiers. That they were more than experiments. That they were human. That they were men. That they felt. That they belonged together even when the world decided to tear them apart. That they loved each other. That they were here. You can learn a lot from history books, but what you can learn from them surpasses everything. They were the true meaning of life. They were a love as true as the earth is round.

After all these long years, I wonder that the thin air they vanished into is the thin air that makes up the clouds of heaven above or if it is still the dew in their garden somewhere where they created their own little heaven. I embrace the fact that my time has come to an end. If there is an afterlife I hope I will see my boys again, maybe they’re already there, maybe I’ll still have to wait.

From Russia with love,

Natasha Romanoff

TAGLIST:   @callamint  @laterthantherabbit   @aubzylynn  @you-and-bucky   @harleyqueen7  @hardcorehippos  @ursulaismymiddlename  @buckyywiththegoodhair  @hellomissmabel  @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes  @abovethesmokestacks   @eve1978  @winterboobaer  @howiseethesethings  @s8sense  @50shadesofyes  @amrita31199  @emilyevanston @melconnor2007  @10kindsofderp  @thatawkwardtinyperson  @persephone-is-here-omg  @magellan-88  @brokennoone @queendivaofthedark

STUCKY: @bone-of-my-bones

[leonvalleyarticles]

Hebrews Part VII: Pressing on to Maturity

Therefore leaving the elementary teaching about the Christ, let us press on to maturity, not laying again a foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God, of instruction about washings and laying on of hands, and the resurrection of the dead and eternal judgment. – Hebrews 6:1-2

There’s a difference between growing old and growing up. People get older, pay their own bills, get married, dare to have children–this is sometimes thought of as “growing up,” but the fact is folks can do those things (and a great many others) and never grow up. They may accumulate years, but never mature (cf. 1 Cor. 14:20). Maturity, rather their lack of it, is what the Holy Spirit puts before the Hebrews: “...by this time you ought to be teachers...” (Heb. 5:12). The writer spent much time explaining the role of Jesus as High Priest and the wonderful blessings that He affords to His people in that role, and there was even more to say. However, the brethren were not ready: “Concerning him we have much to say, and it is hard to explain, since you have become dull of hearing” (Heb 5:11). They allowed something to get in the way–they had become undisciplined students, slack in their hearing of the Word. Their laziness left them weak and vulnerable to the point that the Holy Spirit says, “...you have need again for someone to teach you the elementary principles of the oracles of God, and you have come to need milk and not solid food.” (Heb 5:12). Ouch. The excuse-maker might say, “Well, is any Christian as mature as they could be?” Of course not. But they ask the wrong question. The question is am I even trying to press on to maturity? These brethren were not what they “ought to be” (teachers) due to their lack of effort. In a very real sense none of us are what we ought to be...yet, but are we giving the Lord our best effort? The Hebrews evidently were not. Thus, they had need again to learn the elementary principles.

The writer goes further in explaining the reason for their regression: “For everyone who partakes only of milk is not accustomed to the word of righteousness, for he is an infant” (Heb. 5:13). Their inability to graduate to solid spiritual food is directly linked to being unaccustomed to the “word of righteousness”–the Word of God which is useful for “training in righteousness” (2 Tim. 2:16-17). They may not have had leather-bound testaments like we do today, but they had prophets, evangelists, and teachers who spoke the same Word to them–(Eph. 4:11-12; Heb. 13:7), yet “the message they heard was of no value to them, because they did not share the faith of those who obeyed” (Heb. 4:2). Like those ancient Israelites who came “short of the grace of God”, the Hebrew Christians were proving disobedient to the Word, failing “to discern good from evil” (Heb. 5:14), because they would not hear. This was an awful reflection of their faith. They were in grave danger spiritually.

Thus the writer exhorts them and us to “press on to maturity” (Heb. 6:1). There is no time to waste, we must press forward or regress–the life of a Christian must be a continual “straining toward what is ahead,” ever pressing “on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called us heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:13-14). “This will we do if God permits” (Heb. 6:3). Each new day is another opportunity to try and be a better servant–to grow as we redeem the time and make ourselves useful to the Master. It is imperative.

Just take a look at the consequence:

For in the case of those who have once been enlightened and have tasted of the heavenly gift and have been made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come, and then have fallen away, it is impossible to renew them again to repentance, since they again crucify to themselves the Son of God and put Him to open shame (Heb. 6:4-6).

Why does the Holy Spirit go straight to this conclusion when He’s indicted the Hebrews for their “dullness of hearing” and lack of maturity? Because this is where such things lead! Oh but how lightly we treat our unfaithfulness, and lack of spiritual discipline! How readily we give ourselves a pass when forsake assembling with our brethren, and neglect daily Bible reading! God sees the truth, and warns us not to deceive ourselves and make light of our minimal efforts to serve. For this is the way to destruction. Herein lies the way to apostasy. “The lazy man is a brother to him who destroys” (Pro. 18:9). We may wish and rationalize and compare, saying, “Well, at least I’m not as bad as ol’ so and so,” or “At least I’m not lying, thieving, murderer.” All the while God is saying, “You don’t have to be those things to be lost forever.” We may think little of missing services, but Scripture reminds such things are indications of a larger problem–a heart problem, just as it was with the Hebrews. If it is not resolved, there is the same threat of apostasy for us.

Many (if not most) will disagree with this next point. Let’s ask the question: “Who is the writer speaking to in the context?” Is it not those who were once “enlightened,” “tasted the good Word of God,” “partakers of the Holy Spirit”? Are these unbelievers? There are no other passages which describe non-Christians in the way the Hebrew writer does. He is speaking to “brethren,” fellow believers (cf. Heb. 3:12), thus the warning is for Christians. A child of God can sin so as to be eternally lost–“My brethren, if any among you strays from the truth and one turns him back, let him know that he who turns a sinner from the error of his way will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins” (Jas. 5:19-20). The Hebrew writer is in agreement with all other inspired writers. Contrary to popular belief, those who once committed their lives to Christ, moved by His grace and love, and enlightened by His Word can fall away from the faith so as to be eternally lost. God’s grace is conditional, and if one wishes to receive it and remain in it, he must allow God’s grace to transform his life by responding in obedience: 

For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ (Ti. 2:11-13).

If we’re still having trouble this point, consider a few more verses: “As God's fellow workers, we urge you not to receive God's grace in vain” (2 Cor. 6:1). “While the promise of entering His rest still stands, let us be careful that none of you be deemed to have fallen short of it” (Heb. 4:1). “See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many” (Heb. 12:15). Let us press on to maturity, brethren. “Grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and forever! Amen” (2 Pet. 3:18). Let us stop looking for excuses and discipline ourselves to be prayerful Bible students who allow the Word of God to transform our lives. Anything short of our best effort is regression which leads to apostasy. May it never be said of any of us that we have “crucified the Lord anew and put Him to open shame.” This is the very gift which drew us to Him in repentance to begin with. If we take Hs sacrifice for granted, thinking to abuse His grace, what sacrifice for sin remains? What is left to bring us to repentance? (Rom. 6:1; Heb. 10:26; 6:6) Do not let that be your end. Press on, brethren. Press on!

[scraplette]

Lost Light #3 Thoughts and Feels

It's time for another round of Lost Light thoughts and feels!

As always, under a readmore to protect you from MASSIVE SPOILERS

+Recap of Issue #2: MORE FUNCTIONISTS!

+And we start off in the pod room with Ten, Swerve and Whirl. I think it's super sweet that Cyclonus gave Swerve his number. I would bet good money on Swerve assigning a special ringtone just for him.

+I really like how Lawrence draws Whirl. He looks like a wet, angry crow. Love his little squinty eye.

+The Necrobot used to knock out difficult rescuees with his magic briefcase... I feel blessed by this knowledge. Blessed and fulfilled.

+The new bot is a giant unicorn? Yeah, I know it's Killmaster but that silhouette could've been a unicorn!

+According to TFWiki, all the names Nightbeat is reeling off are victims of Starscream. So, does that mean Nightbeat went looking for Starscream's statue in particular? Or did he just happen to grab a random flower. I was under the impression he'd grabbed these flowers when breaking through Necroplanet's surface, but they were by Ravage's grave(who had a fair amount of flowers around it) but I guess we'll never know for sure.

+Nightbeat and Brainstorm's banter here is so good. I wonder if being Amica will change them in anyway way. They snark because they care about each other so much XD

+Kaput is a spark specialist? Hmmm, I wonder if that will become relevant later on. He also has a nice wheel according to Brainstorm. I must say, it's rather rare for Brainstorm to give out a compliment.

+AWWW! Look at Brainstorm's worried face! BLESS!

+I always love it when someone calls Rodimus “Rodders”. Look out, Roberts, you Britishness is leaking through again.

+I loved the squealing panel in the early preview and I love it just as much here XD never change, Brainstorm.

+Nightbeat is considered sensible?! Oh dear, how low is the bar set exactly?

+I know a few folks who guessed that the Geobomb was the cause of the dimensional shift. Good job, you guys :)

+Brainstorm: ”Get back here, and whatever you do... DON'T get too involved”

Megatron: “I have already adopted twenty of these lost souls...”

 Yeesh, hitting a little close to home here. But seriously, all this sounds so similar to the how the Trump presidency operates and, given Roberts political leanings, this is a clear commentary on current events. A lot of these tactics have been used throughout history to subjugate many peoples and cultures. Not a real life example, but a lot of this is reminding me of the Handmaid's Tale.

+Oh! Hello there Adaptus! So if there are five sacred cities, each one sacred to a particular member of the Guiding Hand, does that mean there's a Mortilus city out there? I want to see what a city dedicated to a Death God looks like!

+Didn't recognise this chap at first- he's had a makeover since I last saw him – but this is Nine Of Twelve, the Inquisitor. I wonder if he modeled his helm after Adaptus' or if it's just a coincidence. And oooooooh, he is so minded? Is he? Maybe this is just a ploy to gather everyone in one place... I got my eyes on you, buster.

+So “AAAARRRGH!” means Killmaster?! Ah, thanks for the translation...

This panel. THIS BLOODY PANEL! TOO GOOD!

+Killmaster is looking pretty epic... even with a unicorn horn for a magic wand.

+I can totally accept that Whirl assumed Killmaster was dead.

+Whirl, when you same “nemesis”, do you actually mean “crush”?

TEN! NOOOOOOOOOOO!

+Look at little Swerve! Running in to avenge a fallen Ten. He's grown so much Q_Q

+”What Primus gives, only Primus can take away.” At what point did Primus decide to give you a city? Just curious.

Tiny drinks.

+I think Megatron is in his element. He's in world that is clearly in need of some revolutionary guidance.

+Oh! Hello Alternate!Anode.

+Ooooh, look at Minimus throwing some shade.

+So, something is approaching Cybertron from deep space? Oh dear, that can't be good...

+Nine of Twelve showed the AVL how to block the headsplosion signal. I guess that explains why there are still some Lunabots and Datasticks about.

Ha! Exactly what I was talking about last time.

+Rod's headdesk moment is quite cute.

+Okay, M'dears, time for a brief breakdown of how the Senate fell and the Functionists rose to power.

Vector Sigma, the source of all life, stopped working. Nova Prime started the Spark Splicing/Constructed Cold project(as he did in the original timeline) but the Council saw this, creating life without the input of Primus, as an act heresay. Since there was no Megatron to form it,there was no Decepticon movement so the Senate and Council were free to focus all their efforts on bringing the other down. The Senate broke into and seal off Vector Sigma and that seriously hacked off the Council. After raising an army of religious fanatics, the hacked off Council destroyed the unused spark crystals before putting the entire Senate to death.

BUT WAIT! There's more!

Nine of Twelve left the Council because he disagreed with their recent actions. Six of Twelve(the guy we saw with the Matrix face) believes the Matrix has been speaking to him, specifically it's been warning him to prepare for war. The Council has been recycling the  population(yikes) forcing them into military or  construction based alt-modes. Essentially body-gloving, which we all know does not end well for an incompatible spark.

+So the Council are a bunch of hypocrits. Good to know... ¬_¬

+Plus another mention of an incoming war...

+I'm not fully convinced Nine of Twelve is a “good guy”. He may be sympathetic to the AVL but only because he disagreed with the Council forcing bots to change forms. He's still a bit of a dickbag who believes that every bot was born to perform a very particular task based on their alt-mod.  

+What's a Blacksmith? Anode, what is a Blacksmith?

+Oh nooo. Please let Lug be okay Q_Q this evidence against her is piling up.

+And this Grief Shot is probably why Swerve was so tetchy in the last issue. While I'm glad Nautica brings up the problems of relying on mood suppressants, this whole scene REALLY makes me miss Rung. “Avoidance is addictive” honestly sounds like something Rung would advocate. Even though he isn't a practising psychiatrist any more, he would still be doing everything he can to help people work through their grief. We haven't seen him since issue #1, where he was with Skids' body and he had that odd episodes. I'm super worried about him.

Also, I'm a little shocked that Nightbeat needs a shot to deal with Skids' death. Swerve I understand, but even though Nightbeat and Skids were Amica(for all of a minute) they never struck me as particularly close. But they did have that little scene alllllll the way back in Slaughterhouse where they referred to themselves as Chromedome's friends. It really makes me wonder how much goes on off panel.

+So a Blacksmith is a baby maker! I've got this hilarious image of Anode using an actual hammer and anvil to make a baby. But it's really interesting there are bots out there who can shape and mold sentio metalico. I wonder what Anode's skills are.

+So the Snowflake is a sparkless protoform? It's so pretty! I wonder if all protoforms can take on shapes like that.

+I think the implication here is that Anode, either on purpose or by accident, was responsible for Lug's creation O_O

+I don't like seeing a sad Lug. It actually hurts to see her sad. wraps her in a blanket

+I know ship Whirl/Killmaster.

+Hi Cyclon- OH MY GOD! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE O_O

+Seriously! Why is he all busted up like that!

+”Oh man. You really shouldn't have bothered” Love you, Whirl~

+NO! NOT SWERVE TOO!

Meh, he and Ten and probably okay. Killmaster's wand has probably just teleported them to another universe. Worse case scenario, they're floating in space. I wouldn't be surprised if Killmaster is the key to returning the Rod Squad to their original universe.

+I'm saying it now. NEVER put Cyclonus in charge ever again. He's really bad at it.

+I love how disbelving Rodimus sounds. “Rung. Seriously? Rung? RUNG? Short guy with eyebrows? Likes model ships. He's your leader? Rung?”

But I think it's really interesting that Rung is not, strictly speaking, the Leader of the AVL. I wonder if he's had any contact with them at all. Does he even agree with what they're doing? I suspect this is something that will come up again.

+Yes, good. Mwah mwah. Love this sort of stuff. Rung's entire existence is one big middle finger to the Functionists.

+YES!

YES! It took five years but we finally, FINALLY, got the pun we've been waiting for!

+This is it O_O

Yaaaaaassssss.

...

Yeah, I can see straight through your propaganda BS ¬_¬

To be honest, I was actually expecting this outcome. Whatever Rung's alt-mode is, it was hinted to be the “last thing” the Functionists wanted. If it really was “the beginning of the end” there is no way they'd be stupid enough to parade it around to undermine their authority.

I have no doubt that we'll know Rung's purpose by the end of this arc eyes up the #6 solicit One way or another...

+Love how the Rod Squad members are all ????? even they can see through the BS.

+OhohohohOHOHOH! The Drill(thatwillpiercetheheavens) is going to open up Vector Sigma?! EEEEEEEEEE! Maybe there's something to the Rung=Key to Vector Sigma theory!

+EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! LUNA 2! Are we finally going to meet the Black Box Consortia(or at least, this universe's version of them)

+And now I wait for the next issue : /

[dfroza]

Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for Sunday, April 4 of 2021 with Proverbs 4 and Psalm 4, accompanied by Psalm 16 for the 16th day of Spring and Psalm 94 for day 94 of the year

[Proverbs 4]

Gather, children, to hear your father’s instruction.

Pay close attention so you will understand,

For I am passing down to you important precepts.

Do not abandon these valuable life lessons.

Back when I was young—the very image of my father,

and yet from my mother’s view, still her only boy—

My father, with his years of experience, became my teacher.

Father: Son, grab on to every word I say to you—hold them close—

stay true to my instructions as you live, and they will serve you well.

Whatever it takes to gain Wisdom, do it.

To gain understanding, do it! Never forget this!

Never stray from what I am telling you.

If you don’t forsake Lady Wisdom, she will protect you.

Love her, and she will faithfully take care of you.

Gaining sound judgment is key, so first things first: go after Lady Wisdom!

Now, whatever else you do, follow through to understanding.

Cherish her, and she will help you rise above the confusion of life—

your possibilities will open up before you—

embrace her, and she will raise you to a place of honor in return.

She will provide the finishing touch to your character—grace;

she will give you an elegant confidence.

Hear my words, my son, and take them in;

let them soak in so that you will live a long, full life.

I have pointed you in the way of wisdom;

I have steered you down the path to integrity.

So get going. And as you go, know this: with integrity you will overcome all obstacles;

even if you run, you will not stumble.

Tighten your grip around wise advice; don’t let it slip away.

Protect Wisdom, for without her, life isn’t worth living.

Do not start down the road of the wicked—

the first step is easy, but it leads to heartache—

do not go along the way of evildoers.

Stay away from it; don’t even go past it—

and if you find yourself anywhere near it,

turn your back and run as far as you can in the opposite direction.

For evildoers are so twisted they cannot sleep unless they have caused harm;

they’ll lie awake all night until they figure out a way to cause someone to stumble.

For they feed on evil the way most eat bread;

they drink violence the way most guzzle wine.

Yet the way of those who do right is like the early morning sun

that shines brighter and brighter until noon.

Evildoers travel a dark road because they love to hide their deeds in darkness;

they can’t see the perils ahead that cause them to stumble.

My son, pay attention to all the words I am telling you.

Lean in closer so you may hear all I say.

Keep them before you; meditate on them;

set them safely in your heart.

For those who discover them, they are life.

They bring wholeness and healing to their bodies.

Above all else, watch over your heart; diligently guard it

because from a sincere and pure heart come the good and noble things of life.

Do away with any talk that twists and distorts the truth;

have nothing to do with any verbal trickery.

Keep your head up, your eyes straight ahead,

and your focus fixed on what is in front of you.

Take care you don’t stray from the straight path, the way of truth,

and you will safely reach the end of your road.

Do not veer off course to the right or the left;

step away from evil, and leave it behind.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 4 (The Voice)

[Psalm 4]

For the worship leader. A song of David accompanied by strings.

Answer my prayers, O True God, the righteous, who makes me right.

I was hopelessly surrounded, and You rescued me.

Once again hear me; hide me in Your favor;

bring victory in defeat and hope in hopelessness.

How long will you sons of Adam steal my dignity, reduce my glory to shame?

Why pine for the fruitless and dream a delusion?

[pause]

Understand this: The Eternal One treats as special those like Him.

The Eternal will answer my prayers and save me.

Think long; think hard. When you are angry, don’t let it carry you into sin.

When night comes, in calm be silent.

[pause]

From this day forward, offer to God the right sacrifice from a heart made right by God.

Entrust yourself to the Eternal.

Crowds of disheartened people ask, “Who can show us what is good?”

Let Your brilliant face shine upon us, O Eternal One, that we may know the undeniable answer.

You have filled me with joy, and happiness has risen in my heart, great delight and unrivaled joy,

even more than when bread abounds and wine flows freely.

Tonight I will sleep securely on a bed of peace

because I trust You, You alone, O Eternal One, will keep me safe.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 4 (The Voice)

[Psalm 16]

The Golden Secret

A precious song, engraved in gold, by David

My Protection

A prayer of David.

Protect me, God, for the only safety I know is found in the moments I seek You.

I told You, Eternal One, “You are my Lord,

for the only good I know in this world is found in You alone.”

The beauty of faith-filled people encompasses me.

They are true, and my heart is thrilled beyond measure.

All the while the despair of many,

who abandoned Your goodness for the empty promises of false gods, increases day by day.

I refuse to pour out blood offerings,

to utter their names from my lips.

You, Eternal One, are my sustenance and my life-giving cup.

In that cup, You hold my future and my eternal riches.

My home is surrounded in beauty;

You have gifted me with abundance and a rich legacy.

I will bless the Eternal, whose wise teaching orchestrates my days

and centers my mind at night.

He is ever present with me;

at all times He goes before me.

I will not live in fear or abandon my calling

because He stands at my right hand.

This is a good life—my heart is glad, my soul is full of joy,

and my body is at rest.

Who could want for more?

You will not abandon me to experience death and the grave

or leave me to rot alone.

Instead, You direct me on the path that leads to a beautiful life.

As I walk with You, the pleasures are never-ending,

and I know true joy and contentment.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 16 (The Passion Translation / The Voice)

[Psalm 94]

God, put an end to evil;

avenging God, show your colors!

Judge of the earth, take your stand;

throw the book at the arrogant.

God, the wicked get away with murder—

how long will you let this go on?

They brag and boast

and crow about their crimes!

They walk all over your people, God,

exploit and abuse your precious people.

They take out anyone who gets in their way;

if they can’t use them, they kill them.

They think, “God isn’t looking,

Jacob’s God is out to lunch.”

Well, think again, you idiots,

fools—how long before you get smart?

Do you think Ear-Maker doesn’t hear,

Eye-Shaper doesn’t see?

Do you think the trainer of nations doesn’t correct,

the teacher of Adam doesn’t know?

God knows, all right—

knows your stupidity,

sees your shallowness.

How blessed the man you train, God,

the woman you instruct in your Word,

Providing a circle of quiet within the clamor of evil,

while a jail is being built for the wicked.

God will never walk away from his people,

never desert his precious people.

Rest assured that justice is on its way

and every good heart put right.

Who stood up for me against the wicked?

Who took my side against evil workers?

If God hadn’t been there for me,

I never would have made it.

The minute I said, “I’m slipping, I’m falling,”

your love, God, took hold and held me fast.

When I was upset and beside myself,

you calmed me down and cheered me up.

Can Misrule have anything in common with you?

Can Troublemaker pretend to be on your side?

They ganged up on good people,

plotted behind the backs of the innocent.

But God became my hideout,

God was my high mountain retreat,

Then boomeranged their evil back on them:

for their evil ways he wiped them out,

our God cleaned them out for good.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 94 (The Message)

[bldgrelationshipwgod]

A person who has been participating in this area, it’s the hardest thing for them to shake off the effects. Simon got out for a little while, started preaching after being baptised, but satan still regarded Simon as his personal property.

And this I will tell you again, if you have fooled with these things: satan tonight regards you as his legitimate property; & he bitterly resents any attempt to get you out from under his clutches. I’ve proven this time & time again.

It’s extraordinarily hard for this person to genuinely repent. And without repentance, there is no permanent deliverance…

2 Timothy 3:1-5 lovers of self & lovers of money & lovers of pleasure Servants of satan withstand the truth [v.8], but they will be defeated [v.9]

But evil men & seducers [v.13] shall wax worse & worse, deceiving & being deceived. Now the word seducers is the Greek word for magicians.

So we are explicitly warned that side by side with the breakdown of human standards with conduct & morality, at the close of this age, there will be a grave increase in the satanic supernatural manifestations.

Revelations 9:20-21 | Now the rest of mankind who were not killed by these plagues still did not repent of the works of their hands. They did not stop worshiping demons & idols of gold, silver, bronze, stone, & wood, which cannot see or hear or walk. Furthermore, they did not repent of their murder, sorcery, sexual immorality, & theft.

Word sorcery is directly from the Greek word for drugs! From which we get the English word pharmacy, & the man accused of the Sharon Tate murder in California in court actually quoted this verse & said this is it.

This is the situation, murder/drugs/fornication & theft. And it’s the work of the satanic supernatural. It’s a pretty deadly thing.

So now what are we going to do about it?

1st: If you have been involved in any of these things, at any time in your life, you better make sure you’re absolutely clear that nothing is hanging on & nothing is following up, & there’s no dark shadow over you that’s going to spoil your life/future/home/family. You might shrug it off & say, “It was a joke.”

It may have been in your eyes, but it wasn’t in God’s eyes & it wasn’t in the devil’s. When you go to a fortune teller or play with the Ouija board, any of these things. What you’re doing in effect is going to a servant of satan for help.

And in that way you’re putting yourself in a legal obligation to satan. satan will not cancel that obligation until you make him do so.

To make him do so, the best procedure is to renounce that thing out loud in the presence of witnesses. Profess it as a sin, & loose yourself in the Name of Jesus.

It’s almost unbelievable how these things affect people’s lives. For instance, someone will say to me: “Every time I’m feeling really close to God & I’m really beginning to sense the Spirit of God, there’s something that comes down & shuts me off & I just never can get through to God.”

1st Q I always ask them: have you ever been to a fortune teller? 8/10 times the answer is yes.

“Oh but I only did it when I was a little girl.” “Oh it was years ago,…or I didn’t mean anything by it, it was just a joke.”

But you went & you put yourself under an obligation to satan you never cancelled.

I can tell you case after case, where this kind of darkness & heaviness over a life has been lifted by the canceling of that obligation.

Whatever it be, you have an obligation to yourself to cancel it.

Let me illustrate this: What you see & what you do is important, even if you don’t mean it. Under the pressure of the trial of Jesus, Peter 3x publicly denied that he knew Jesus. When the angel of the resurrection gave the message, the message was from Jesus: “Go & tell my disciples & Peter.” [Mark 16:7]

He was no longer a disciple; he had cancelled his discipleship; he didn’t mean it. But he had done it by what he said; & Jesus in His infinite grace & wisdom took Peter aside, then 3x made him profess out loud his love for the Lord. He had to revoke what he had said before, by the right confession.

THIS is exactly true. Getting rid of these things is almost like a divorce. It’s got to be done in a certain sense legally. You’ve got to break the connection.

I’ll just give you an example:

Lord, I confess as a sin that I went to the at fortune teller, I played with that oujia board, or I had my palm read, I studied the horoscope, & a whole dozen of things, I confess it as a sin. Lord I acknowledge that I went to a servant of satan for help. Forgive me Lord, I renounce it, I will never do it again. And I loose myself in Jesus Name every dark influence that came upon me through it.

That will do it, but if you don’t take it seriously, you’ll go on suffering. The curse is revoked in Christ, but you’ve got to enter into that revocation of it.

2nd if you have any literature or other objects, that speak of any satanic cults or worship burn them. Preferably tonight, don’t give them away. Burn them.

This is Scriptural, Exodus 19, the believers brought the books they had & burned them, $20K worth of books.

If you have idols, Buddhas, anything that was made to worship or an honour to some satanic being break it, burn it, throw it out. Get

Things will change because satan was brought out into the open.

>> This is your responsibility to pray for your nation. Pray everyday for your government, & for those in authority. Most Christians haven’t even begun to do it; the Bible places on Christians the obligation to intercede for the gov’t; & you are given power: “Whatsoever you will bind on earth, shall be bound in heaven. Whatsoever you loose on earth, shall be loosed in heaven.”

You do not need to tolerate the satanic conditions & satanic invasion, to which your country is subjected. You have the means, at your disposal to change the situation. It is a spiritual condition & it is resolved by spiritual means.

And the spiritual means are at the hands of the Christians. Not the unbeliever. If we do not use it, my conviction is your country will perish. I do not say that idly.

I’m firmly convinced that this decade will solve the destiny of America, one way of the other. And even papers like TIME & LIFE that certainly are not slanted in the spiritual direction, have come up with virtually the same conclusion.

How many of you tonight would say, “Brother Prince, I’ll accept my responsibility from tonight onwards as I’m taught in the Bible & as the Holy Spirit guides me to pray for my gov’t & my nation.” God bless you.

You do not need to let the devil parade up & down your streets. It is not necessary, he is a defeated foe!

>> But Jesus has left it to us to administer the DEFEAT!

When Jesus left to be seated on the THRONE, He said all power has been given unto Me in heaven & on earth, go ye therefore & go do something about it!

And He’s been waiting 19 centuries for people to realize what He meant.

Here’s the final question:

Those of you, who know you’ve given the devil some area of your life, some time in your life: You’ve crossed the border into the wrong spiritual realm, you’ve fooled around with cults & things, I’ve specified them long enough!

And tonight you want to know as you go out of here that you’re totally clear & free of all that.                   _____________________________________________________

You shall have no other gods before Me. You shall not make for yourself an idol of any kind, or an image of anything in the heavens above, on the earth beneath, or in the waters below.

You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on their children to the 3rd & 4th generations of those who hate Me, [Exodus 20:3-26]

Matthew Henry Commentary | Exodus 20:3-11

The 1st four of the 10 commandments, commonly called the FIRST table, tell our duty to God.

It was fit that those should be put first, because man had a Maker to love, before he had a neighbour to love.

It cannot be expected that you should be true to your brother, who is false to his God.

1st commandment concerns the object of worship, JEHOVAH, & Him only.

The worship of creatures is here forbidden. Whatever comes short of perfect love, gratitude, reverence, or worship, breaks this commandment.

Whatsoever you do, do all the glory of God.

2nd law refers to the worship we are to render to the Lord our God.

It is forbidden to make any image or picture of the Deity, in any form, or for any purpose; or to worship any creature, image, or picture.

But the spiritual import of this command extends much further. All kinds of superstition are here forbidden, & the using of mere human inventions in the worship of God.

3rd law concerns the manner of worship, that it be with all possible reverence & seriousness. All false oaths are forbidden

All light appealing to God, all profane cursing, is a horrid breach of this command.

It matters not whether the word of God, or sacred things, all such-like things break this commandment, & there is no profit, honour, or pleasure in them.

The Lord will not hold him guiltless that takes His name in vain.

4th commandment, Remember, shows that it was not now first given, but was known by the people before.

One day in seven is to be kept holy. Six days are allotted to worldly business, but not so as to neglect the service of God, & the care of our souls.

On those days we must do all our work, & leave none to be done on the sabbath day. Christ allowed works of necessity, charity, & piety; for the sabbath was made for man, & not man for the sabbath,

Mark 2:27; but all works of luxury, vanity, or self-indulgence in any form, are forbidden.

Trading, paying wages, settling accounts, writing letters of business, worldly studies, trifling visits, journeys, or light conversation, are not keeping this day holy to the Lord.

Sloth & indolence may be a carnal, but not a holy rest. The sabbath of the Lord should be a day of rest from worldly labour, & a rest in the service of God.

The advantages from the due keeping of this holy day, were it only to the health & happiness of mankind, with the time it affords for taking care of the soul, show the excellency of this commandment.

The day is blessed; men are blessed by it, & in it. The blessing & direction to keep holy are not limited to the seventh day, but are spoken of the sabbath day.

Colossians 3:2 | Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. [This pairs nicely with keeping the Sabbath Holy]

(Source: youtube.com, via john8-32)

#curses #https://tmblr.co/Z4OMrV2lrj47h

[brokensoulstory]

Broken Soul: Eleven

It was a quiet evening at the hotel. The hours were passing slowly as Dannie sat on her bed with the TV on, staring at her phone that was lying on the table instead of the screen. She went through this almost every night. Sleep was hard to achieve since all she wanted to do was see if Evan would call her back.

A knock at her door made her gasp and turn her head toward it. She hesitated, wondering who it could be this late at night. Then she slid out of the bed, turned the TV off and then approached the door, her bare feet creeping across the white, carpeted floor. Dannie opened the door and saw someone she hadn’t seen in months. “You…” she uttered in confusion. “What are you-...How did you find me?” Those fiery orange eyes were all too familiar to her.

"'Ello, dearie!" the strange man greeted with a cheeky smile. “I can explain everything, no worries!" He was leaning against the doorway, propping himself up with an elbow. And in his other hand was hidden behind his back. “May I come inside?”

"Are you drunk?" she asked.

He raised a large bottle of alcohol that was more than half empty and smirked at her. "I'm on my way..." He took a long drink from the bottle and then asked, "Care to join me?"

"I don't really drink..."

"Never too late to start!"

Dannie was unamused. "If you still have something to tell me, then put down that bottle and come inside."

"Hey, listen up, princess..." he taunted after taking a long drink, "I've known you for maybe two minutes total my whole life and I've been best friends with alcohol for most of my cursed existence. If you think I'm gonna betray my best friend for you, then you're incorrect."

Dannie reluctantly let him in with his bottle in hand and closed the door shut. “What did you do to Evan?”

"You're gonna have to be more specific, dah'ling, I've done a lot of things to a lot of people so-"

Dannie interrupted him. "Wait, what? I-...I don't even know what you're talking about but you turned him into a vampire! Why did you do that? We had to leave him behind because of you!”

“I know,” the man replied drunkenly. “It was the only way I could save him.”

“Bull shit, I know you vampires have healing powers! Why didn’t you just heal him?”

“Excuse you, missy, first of all, his injury was too strong,” he explained moving right in front of her face and waving a long finger at her. “He was dying. When someone is too close to death, there’s no way we can reverse it. Turning him was the last thing I wanted to do. But I did it for you. And second of all, I'm not even a full vampire tech-in-i-cally, so there's that.”

“Who are you anyway?” Dannie asked and then felt immense heat emitting from him.

“People call me Ashes."

"Why are you so hot?"

Ashes snickered and then said, "Why, thank you for the compliment, dearie. You're not so bad yourself." He noticed that Dannie wasn't amused. "Okay, in all seriousness, I’m a fire elemental and a half vampire. Dusk, the first vampire, is my maker. That top hat stealing dickcheese has been exterminating vampires that are not part of his clan. And he knows about Evan. And you.”

“So, are you saying this guy is coming after me?”

Ashes nodded. “Yes. He knows of your knowledge about us. He wants you dead.”

“Oh, god, are you going to kill me?-”

“Pshhh, nooo!” Ashes swore. “I came to help you, I did. I'm Evan's maker so that makes him important to me.”

“How many people have you turned?” Dannie asked.

“Maybe....two. One decided to be a murderous dick and Evan's the other one.”

“So… How are you going to help me?”

“I know where Evan is,” he sang in reply.

Dannie’s heartbeat almost doubled up on hearing those words. “What?? Where is he? Is he alive?”

“Calm down,” Ashes suggested and put his hand on her shoulder for a moment. “I don't usually tell people this but, chill out, dearie. Yes, he is alive. Well, at least as alive as a vampire can be. He’s in Rome.”

“Why hasn’t he contacted me? I’ve been trying to reach him for months! Have you talked to him? Is he mad at us? Where is he exactly? I’m going to try to find him.”

“Danielle,” Ashes began understandably, “you can’t just contact him.”

She felt her heart shatter. “Why not?”

Ashes didn’t want to tell her but he had to. He sat down on one of the room's nice chairs and then propped his feet up onto the table beside it. “Hate to break it to you but he doesn’t remember who you are or any of his life prior to leaving you. If you saw him, he wouldn’t know you. That’s why he never contacted you. That or there's trouble in paradise...” He winked at her and it just confused her.

Dannie remembered how Evan left his phone behind and realized he probably had forgotten where he lived and never went home. He hadn’t heard any of her messages or contacted any of his family or friends. Because he had no idea who they were. “I don’t understand,” Dannie said sadly. “How could he just forget us?”

"Did he trade a memory with you?" Ashes wondered.

"I don't know..." Dannie tried to remember. "All I know is I dream in his point of view every single night. And it's always so real."

"You two must have traded memories," Ashes said. "And once you separated, it took full effect. You're dreaming his memories. And he's probably dreaming the one he took from you."

"How come I can remember him but he can't remember me?"

Ashes began to explain. “There is a reason why I remain close to Dusk even though I despise his very existence and cruel actions. It’s because we are connected. When you gave me verbal permission to change Evan, you took an oath of responsibility. Because he was moments from death, only a piece of his soul remained inside of him. Your oath connected you together. Both of you are sharing a soul. Since you possess the majority, almost everything stays with you. You are the only thing keeping him alive. And the further apart you are, the more empty you both feel inside. Have you noticed your mood changes lately?”

Dannie nodded solemnly. “I thought it would just fade away but it’s just growing worse every day.”

“It’s because you both need the other,” Ashes said. “He literally needs you to survive.”

“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” Dannie asked. “It would have been nice to know this before the rest of my band voted to leave him stranded on the side of the road.”

“I had to save him and didn’t have time,” Ashes answered. “I couldn’t let your friends see me and I had to get back to Dusk before he would find any of you. It took a long time to track you down and to be able to get away long enough to see you.”

“Did you tell him about us? Is that why he’s after us?”

“No,” he assured her. “Another vampire discovered Evan in Rome. I was able to locate him and keep Dusk from him until now. He wants to return and kill him.”

“How can you kill a vampire?” Dannie inquired. “The whole stake through the heart routine? Holy water and cross? Or fire or the sunlight or something?”

“It depends on the vampire,” Ashes replied. “And how powerful they are.”

“Okay,” Dannie sighed with dread, “to be more specific, what would kill Evan?”

“If he’s weak, the slightest stab or rays from the sun could gravely harm him,” Ashes said. “But he’s far from weak now. Probably the only effective way to kill him would be…to kill you.”

Fear grew inside of Dannie’s eyes. Her throat was clogged with so many words, she didn’t know what to say.

“I am going to make sure Dusky-boi does not hurt you or Evan,” Ashes promised.

“Wouldn’t he hurt you if you help us?” Dannie inquired.

“I’ll be all right as long as he doesn’t find out my intentions,” Ashes answered. “He can’t kill me anyway. Our souls are connected just like yours.”

Dannie looked at him with curiosity. She let Ashes explain. “Dusk is an elder; the very first vampire. His soul was whole when he was changed. He fell in love with me centuries ago and decided to turn me after I was attacked by one of his family members after they went on a murderous rampage. Dusk gave me the majority of his soul. Unfortunately, over time, he grew more evil and selfish and drunk on his own power. Most vampires want to rule the world. But he wants to wipe out all who aren’t part of his small clan. He believes his kind are superior to all others or some bullshit like that, I don't know...”

“But if you turned Evan, shouldn’t he be safe?” Dannie wondered. “He is part of your kind if he’s your creation. Right?”

“Not exactly,” Ashes replied. “Vampires are not allowed to turn a human without permission from all the elders. I was not supposed to turn him. Dusk would kill him even if I told him he was my responsibility. And he would probably punish me and kill the rest of you.”

“Why Evan?” Dannie asked. “Why did you turn him? Did you know what would happen to him?”

“I thought he would be able to control the evil within him,” Ashes replied. “I saw how unselfishly he saved your life and I could see how much he meant to you. I thought you’d want to keep him in your life even as one of us. And usually, good-hearted humans who are turned remain good as vampires. I figured he would just feed and live in secret and no one would discover him. But somehow, it leaked.”

“He turned evil,” Dannie remembered, picturing the sight of Katie’s dead body on the bus floor. “He killed an innocent girl because he refused to eat. And who knows how bad he’s gotten now.”

Ashes didn’t want to tell her but he had to. “He’s not the way he used to be. He’s...different.”

“How so?”

“He makes a living stealing money,” Ashes confessed. “He keeps people in his home to feed from them like prisoners. He tortures people for information. He’s manipulative and uses his powers for all the wrong reasons. He is not the sweet, adorable boy you used to know.”

“How am I supposed to help him if he doesn’t remember me?”

“He’s looking for a human donor,” Ashes told her. “You should find him and apply.”

“All right,” Dannie understood. She grabbed her suitcase and started fumbling her belongings back inside of it. “Maybe if I tell him who I am and remind him of his past life, he’ll remember me and come back to us…”

Ashes sprung up from the chair he was sitting on and stood next to her. “Danielle, no,” he protested and continued delivering bad news. Dannie stopped packing and looked at him again. “I know you want to, but you cannot tell him you know him. He might think you’re lying since he has no memory of you. Evan is merciless now and may hurt you or try to kill you if he thinks you’re trying to fool him so you can do him wrong. Vampires do not trust easily. You have to let him figure it out on his own. Once he remembers you, he’ll protect you. And with you close to him, he’ll grow even stronger and can keep both of you alive.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. What if he doesn’t remember? I have to at least try.”

“You can’t,” Ashes said. “You cannot greet him as you would an old friend. He is not your friend. He is dangerous and can hurt you.”

“Evan would never hurt me,” Dannie declared.

“The Evan you remember wouldn’t." Dannie noticed his voice became lower and his accent dropped. “But this one wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you if you were a threat to his immortal existence. He has powers you haven’t seen yet. His eyes—they can see right through you. He can see lies in your eyes. He can hear your pulse speed up if you are afraid. He could smell the slightest drop of nervous sweat drip from your skin. He can feel you breathing. His instincts can read deceit and vampires like him are not usually forgiving and understanding. Facing him is not going to be easy. Unless you want both of you to be acquainted with death, you cannot give yourself away.”

His change of tone slightly worried her. But she still needed answers. “How do I get him to trust me then?”

“I’m going to have to help you," Ashes said, his voice back to normal and his accent suddenly returning.

“Tell me how!” Dannie was frightened and impatient and just wanted to put an end to all of this. Ashes didn’t respond to her. Instead, his glowing eyes locked onto hers. Dannie froze and couldn’t move or look away. It felt like some force was gripping on to her tightly. Ashes said a few sentences in a language Dannie hadn’t heard before and then released her from the trance. Dannie sighed and blinked several times and felt the restraint leave her. “What did you just do?” Dannie inquired, wondering if she could still trust this strange man. “What happened to me?”

“Now you cannot tell him or anyone he’s from your past,” Ashes replied. “He won’t suspect anything now. Here is the address where he resides. Tell his bitch of an assistant you are applying as a donor. But you must not let him drink from you.” He handed Dannie a piece of paper with Evan's address on it written in beautifully drawn cursive. Dannie laid it in her suitcase and had even more questions.

"Oh, hey, you might need some money to get there," Ashes said, handing her a wallet with a wide grin on his face. "Here you go, gorgeous!"

Dannie took the wallet from him and opened it and saw a couple of hundred dollar bills. "Did you steal this?" she asked and then found the ID card inside. The name said Philip Maxwell.

Ashes smirked mischievously. "Well, you can't steal from a thief..."

Dannie recognized the man in the ID's photo. "Hey...This is the guy who tried to rob me and stabbed Evan...Where did you get this?"

"Well, I got it from him," Ashes sassed, still smirking. "Duh."

"Okay, but how did you-"

Ashes interrupted her question and then lightly pushed her shoulder so she sat down on the bed and said, "Sit down, it's storytime!" Before Dannie could even figure out what was happening, Ashes pulled a pitch pipe out of one of his pockets and blew into while throwing confetti into the air with his other hand. "So, once upon a time, I found a douchebag who tried to rob a pretty lady and attempted to murder a handsome lad. I cornered him in an alley since that seemed to be his favorite way to intimidate people and I was like, "You know what I don't like? Thieves!" and then I took his feet out from under him and swiped his wallet and that bastard actually tried to hurt me so I broke some of his bones! Then I lectured him about why it's wrong to rob struggling musicians, because I know the feeling, believe me, and I laughed at his suffering and then left him as a mess. Gold star for me, question mark??" He took a bow and then smiled at Dannie, seemingly awaiting her approval. She was unsure of how to feel about all of this. "Did you....kill him?" she asked.

"He was alive last time I saw him so....no," Ashes replied.

"Okay, then," Dannie sighed. "Gold star...?"

Ashes seemed happy to hear that. "Yayyy!" He exclaimed and clapped excitedly. "I did another good!"

Dannie wanted to back to the original topic. “Oh, by the way, I've been wondering, how do I apply as a donor and expect Evan not to feed from me? It makes absolutely no sense. He’ll think I’m lying and might kill both of us.”

“He might, or he might not,” Ashes said. “We can only hope he trusts you. The longer you’re with him, the deeper your souls will reconnect and his memories might return. Oh, and go easy on Erick.” He winked at her before taking another drink of alcohol.

Dannie almost asked what he had to do with any of this but didn't. She picked up the paper with the address on it and asked, “How do I contact you if I need help?” She expected to hear a reply but heard nothing. Once she looked up to see Ashes, she realized the room was empty and she was alone. She still felt lost and confused and no closer to getting Evan back, despite the fact she held his location in her hand. He seemed even more distant to her now.

[dfroza]

Today’s reading in the ancient book of Proverbs and Psalms

for Thursday, may 28 of 2020 with Proverbs 28 and Psalm 28 accompanied by Psalm 71 for the 71st day of Spring and Psalm 149 for day 149 of the year

beginning with this line from The Voice:

The wicked run away even when no one is chasing them;

the right-living, however, stand their ground as boldly as lions.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 28:1 (The Voice)

[Proverbs 28]

Guilty criminals experience paranoia

even though no one threatens them.

But the innocent lovers of God,

because of righteousness,

will have the boldness of a young, ferocious lion!

A rebellious nation is thrown into chaos,

but leaders anointed with wisdom will restore law and order.

When a pauper oppresses the destitute,

it’s like a flash flood that sweeps away their last hope.

Those who turn their backs on what they know is right

will no longer be able to tell right from wrong.

But those who love the truth strengthen their souls.

Justice never makes sense to men devoted to darkness,

but those tenderly devoted to the Lord

can understand justice perfectly.

It’s more respectable to be poor and pure than rich and perverse.

To be obedient to what you’ve been taught

proves you’re an honorable child,

but to socialize with the lawless brings shame to your parents.

Go ahead and get rich on the backs of the poor,

but all the wealth you gather will one day be given

to those who are kind to the needy.

If you close your heart and refuse to listen to God’s instruction,

even your prayer will be despised.

Those who tempt the lovers of God with an evil scheme

will fall into their own trap.

But the innocent who resist temptation will experience reward.

The wealthy in their conceit presume to be wise,

but a poor person with discernment can see right through them.

The triumphant joy of God’s lovers releases great glory.

But when the wicked rise to power, everyone goes into hiding.

If you cover up your sin you’ll never do well.

But if you confess your sins and forsake them,

you will be kissed by mercy.

Overjoyed is the one who with tender heart trembles before God,

but the stubborn, unyielding heart will experience even greater evil.

Ruthless rulers can only be compared

to raging lions and roaming bears.

Abusive leaders fail to employ wisdom,

but leaders who despise corruption

will enjoy a long and full life.

A murderer’s conscience will torment him—

a fugitive haunted by guilt all the way to the grave

with no one to support him.

The pure will be rescued from failure,

but the perverse will suddenly fall into ruin.

Work hard and you’ll have all you desire,

but chase a fantasy and you could end up with nothing.

Life’s blessings drench the honest and faithful person,

but punishment rains down upon the greedy and dishonest.

Giving favoritism to the rich and powerful is disgusting,

and this is the type of judge who would betray a man for a bribe.

A greedy man is in a race to get rich,

but he forgets that he could lose what’s most important

and end up with nothing.

If you correct someone with constructive criticism,

in the end he will appreciate it more than flattery.

A person who would reject his own parents and say,

“What’s wrong with that?” is as bad as a murderer.

To make rash, hasty decisions

shows that you are not trusting the Lord.

But when you rely totally on God,

you will still act carefully and prudently.

Self-confident know-it-alls will prove to be fools.

But when you lean on the wisdom from above,

you will have a way to escape the troubles of your own making.

You will never go without if you give to the poor.

But if you’re heartless, stingy, and selfish,

you invite curses upon yourself.

When wicked leaders rise to power,

good people go into hiding.

But when they fall from power,

the godly take their place.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 28 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 28]

A David Psalm

Don’t turn a deaf ear

when I call you, God.

If all I get from you is

deafening silence,

I’d be better off

in the Black Hole.

I’m letting you know what I need,

calling out for help

And lifting my arms

toward your inner sanctum.

Don’t shove me into

the same jail cell with those crooks,

With those who are

full-time employees of evil.

They talk a good line of “peace,”

then moonlight for the Devil.

Pay them back for what they’ve done,

for how bad they’ve been.

Pay them back for their long hours

in the Devil’s workshop;

Then cap it with a huge bonus.

Because they have no idea how God works

or what he is up to,

God will smash them to smithereens

and walk away from the ruins.

Blessed be God—

he heard me praying.

He proved he’s on my side;

I’ve thrown my lot in with him.

Now I’m jumping for joy,

and shouting and singing my thanks to him.

God is all strength for his people,

ample refuge for his chosen leader;

Save your people

and bless your heritage.

Care for them;

carry them like a good shepherd.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 28 (The Message)

[Psalm 71]

I run for dear life to God,

I’ll never live to regret it.

Do what you do so well:

get me out of this mess and up on my feet.

Put your ear to the ground and listen,

give me space for salvation.

Be a guest room where I can retreat;

you said your door was always open!

You’re my salvation—my vast, granite fortress.

My God, free me from the grip of Wicked,

from the clutch of Bad and Bully.

You keep me going when times are tough—

my bedrock, God, since my childhood.

I’ve hung on you from the day of my birth,

the day you took me from the cradle;

I’ll never run out of praise.

Many gasp in alarm when they see me,

but you take me in stride.

Just as each day brims with your beauty,

my mouth brims with praise.

But don’t turn me out to pasture when I’m old

or put me on the shelf when I can’t pull my weight.

My enemies are talking behind my back,

watching for their chance to knife me.

The gossip is: “God has abandoned him.

Pounce on him now; no one will help him.”

God, don’t just watch from the sidelines.

Come on! Run to my side!

My accusers—make them lose face.

Those out to get me—make them look

Like idiots, while I stretch out, reaching for you,

and daily add praise to praise.

I’ll write the book on your righteousness,

talk up your salvation the livelong day,

never run out of good things to write or say.

I come in the power of the Lord God,

I post signs marking his right-of-way.

You got me when I was an unformed youth,

God, and taught me everything I know.

Now I’m telling the world your wonders;

I’ll keep at it until I’m old and gray.

God, don’t walk off and leave me

until I get out the news

Of your strong right arm to this world,

news of your power to the world yet to come,

Your famous and righteous

ways, O God.

God, you’ve done it all!

Who is quite like you?

You, who made me stare trouble in the face,

Turn me around;

Now let me look life in the face.

I’ve been to the bottom;

Bring me up, streaming with honors;

turn to me, be tender to me,

And I’ll take up the lute and thank you

to the tune of your faithfulness, God.

I’ll make music for you on a harp,

Holy One of Israel.

When I open up in song to you,

I let out lungsful of praise,

my rescued life a song.

All day long I’m chanting

about you and your righteous ways,

While those who tried to do me in

slink off looking ashamed.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 71 (The Message)

with these lines mirrored in The Passion Translation:

Lord, you are my secure shelter. Don’t ever let me down!

Let your justice be my breakthrough.

Bend low to my whispered cry

and save me from all my enemies!

You’re the only place of protection for me.

I keep coming back to hide myself in you,

for you are like a mountain-cliff fortress where I’m kept safe.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 71:1-3 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 149]

Triumphant Praise

Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!

It’s time to sing to God a brand-new song

so that all his holy people will hear how wonderful he is!

May Israel be enthused with joy because of him,

and may the sons of Zion pour out

their joyful praises to their King.

Break forth with dancing!

Make music and sing God’s praises with the rhythm of drums!

For he enjoys his faithful lovers.

He adorns the humble with his beauty

and he loves to give them the victory.

His godly lovers triumph in the glory of God,

and their joyful praises will rise even while others sleep.

God’s high and holy praises fill their mouths,

for their shouted praises are their weapons of war!

These warring weapons will bring vengeance

on every opposing force and every resistant power—

to bind kings with chains and rulers with iron shackles.

Praise-filled warriors will enforce

the judgment-doom decreed against their enemies.

This is the glorious honor he gives to all his godly lovers.

Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 149 (The Passion Translation)

with this line mirrored in The Voice:

Let all of Israel celebrate their Maker, their God, their friend;

let the children of Zion find great joy in their true King.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 149:2 (The Voice)