#a wonderful emnity

[cirilee]

teRRIFYING!

[toastedclownery]

POV you're Rettich

@cirilee

[cirilee]

OHH what i really really love is the height difference here - thank you for keeping rettich a beanpole !! Awwww this looks so so cute thank you so much !!

And yes, with Tink nothing is just playing of course X'D

I had some space left on the Eine Wunderbare Feindschaft doodles page, so here's a lil Tink :>

And THIS MEME- I could not stop thinking about it in the context of those two. I thought it fit really well! I also thought I'd make it in digital but I couldn't find the time before, so I ended up drawing it in the sketchbook again hah

Eine Wunderbare Feindschaft fanart v2!! Of course, the characters and designs belong to @cirilee- I should stop mentioning them, shouldn't I-

[misstrashchan]

When it comes to predicting what happens with Carpenter and Faulkner in the last episode, I can't help but think back to S2 with Carpenter and the homesick corpse.

Carpenter's final talk with the homesick corpse is much more relevant to her character than I think people give credit for

The homesick corpse died because someone in the parish of tide and flesh, a sibling, turned on him, and he was hunted down, just like Faulkner turning on Carpenter and how she's been hunted by the people of the faith she once belonged to.

HOMESICK CORPSE:

I never learnt who turned me in. I knew it must have been a sibling of the faith, one of the families I had most frequently visited or one of the hidden pilgrims who offered food and shelter along the roadside. Someone who would have known who I was and where I was going next.

I spent many of my final days turning the names over in my head, trying to guess - who might I have offended, who might have wished me dead, amongst my friends along the road?

In the end, I stopped wondering. I wished to die with love in my heart: not doubt, not enmity.

Carpenter was reeling from Faulkner's betrayal and turning it over in her head, why did he do it, how could he, hating him, loving him. Also the dying in enmity bit. Emnity means to oppose or be hostile, to die in emnity is to die spitefully in opposition of something or someone in your final moments. Paige's god is defined by dying to spite and oppose their oppresors. Faulkner's schism of the Trawler-Man is defining themselves by their struggle against those same oppresors and those in higher power with more authority, including those in their own faith like the inner council of the high katabasian, hence why he snapped at the idea of their god being legalised and killed Mason.

Silence. CARPENTER digs.

CARPENTER:

(More roughly)

What do you regret?

THE HOMESICK CORPSE:

That I did not speak my love out loud often enough.

I had so much love in my life - it was offered to me as freely as rain. 

I felt it so deeply, but I did not speak of it. I knew it only through ritual, through shared meals and the chanting of crowds, through the oration of new words to old friends and the applause that followed.

I should have told them all how much I loved them.

CARPENTER chokes, a little, because she recognises the sentiment.

Then there's Carpenter and the Cairn Maiden, and the homesick corpse, speaking to her of dying with love in their heart instead of emnity. If Carpenter does die this season, I think that will be what's in her heart in her final moments. Though, I think it's much more likely Faulkner will die, who instead of sacrificing his siblings to the Trawler-Man or killing them for his own sake, he'll sacrifice himself to protect Carpenter from the remaining Parish of Tide and Flesh's wrath.

Speaking your love aloud more often and struggling because you only know how to do so through ritual clearly resonates with Carpenter, her faith in the trawlerman was how she stayed connected to her loved ones, even after they died, and that's why she decides to go back and tell Faulkner, her brother, that she loves him in the S2 finale. She never gets the chance to, but despite everything done against her, I think the love is still there. What Faulkner did to her wouldn't hurt so much if it wasn't. And still she hasn't spoken of that love aloud, at least not to him.

The Cairn Maiden also speaks to Paige of how they will bury the beasts (the gods that starve and die) with more comfort and kindness than they deserve, which I think will be what Carpenter does for Faulkner if he does die, whether that's him dying to protect Carpenter, or her putting him out of his misery, or him committing suicide. She'll bury him with more comfort and kindness than he deserves.

CARPENTER picks up the withered body and lays it down in the dirt.

Then she shovels the earth over it, in silence.

As she shovels, she begins to pray. It’s different, this time - the words come jolting out of her, they come strong and hard and she feels their weight.

She chokes, and she sobs, but she keeps on speaking them all the same.

CARPENTER:

This is the place. 

This has always been the place.

You were always walking towards this moment.

There’s nothing left to hold on to.

There’s nowhere left to go.

There’s no need to worry any more.

Her voice breaks on the final line

She breathes hard, struggling not to sob.

There is also that one hopeful part of me that wants to believe Faulkner would want so badly for Carpenter to kill him, to offer up his life to her for atonement, and her to be furious at the very idea that he thinks he can escape the weight of what he's done by dying, by putting that blood on her hands. For her to convince him to live with what he's done and move forward instead. Which personally I think would end up tying into the theme of finding the opposite of a sacrifice, of trying to break the cycle, but, *shrugs* who knows what could happen?

Ultimately whatever way it ends for them the one thing I am certain of is that I will be a crying mess on the floor.

[avoidingcertaindoom]

I'm gonna try and treat November as a "Novella plotting/hard outlining" Month and see if there's a way I can write up and finish a shorter narrative piece instead of slogging through any ongoing ones, just to take it a bit easier.

Plots Described Below;

Elmsville Emnities - When his Grandfather passes mysteriously, Ezra Jacobs takes a leave of absence from university to come home and help take care of arrangements and look after his ill older sister. Adeline had always been an odd duck, but since the passing her already tenous grip on reality seems all the more shaky. Can he protect her from the trouble brewing, or do her issues stem deeper than he'd ever truly want to acknowledge?

Bloodbound - Iloaina Vatasoa has found deeper and deeper leads into the circumstances of her parent's disappearance. Normally she can rely on her research partner to help look into these happenings, but a few life events have left him otherwise occupied and so she'd rather fill him in when things calm down. Unknown to her, the answers she seeks come with a steep price attached

The Line Between Love and Madness - After being rescued from a cult, Dina decides to repay her saviour, Theodore, by assisting the investigation and exposing of other cults via her own expertise. The community they find themselves in this time is different... Dina feels strangely at home, and while she is so sure it is just her upbringing deceiving her she starts to wonder if there's something more to the call she feels in her bones.

[arbitrarygreay]

The show was so conscious about having diversity on screen (I remarked on that notable Asian presence in a previous post), which is why it stands out that Latine presence appears to be missing. Cadet Cortez may be Spanish instead, given the Basque First Song Steward, and there was a total lack of a Central/South American Steward.

Which makes me wonder if the US and Mexico have good relations at all in MFS. While obviously in our world emnity from the Mexican–American War didn't last to the modern day, MFS world had two (which doesn't automatically mean anything, given US-Germany relations). However, it might be significant that the leader of the military lived through and personally fought in both of said wars, including losing Jem Bellweather in one of them.

What is the immigration discourse in the world of MFS, and how does the existence of witch militaries affect that? If the US felt the need to enforce conscription in places like Liberia, do they have strict border control (with a strict asylum seeking process) for the sake of dodger reduction? Not to mention the use of magic wards in border control. And how that would change the Latine population in the US.

This might be relevant to St. Dominique thoughts @mimeparadox

[waycoldernighttimes]

Hey Cold just wondering if “Take Care, It’s A Desert Out There” is on hiatus? It’s been a while since the last update, I miss the silly nautical nonsense and deep sea horror.

Offcially? No. Unofficially, it WAS. I got put on new meds and it really messed me up for a while but the next chapter is under construction as we speak. It should be up relatively soon.

In fact, here's a line from it!

"It was a new feeling, Leviathan had realised.

Hatred. Whole and perfect emnity."

[lemonhemlock]

Lemon, wake up!! new AU idea just dropped!!!

What are your thoughts on green kids Age Reversal AU? So now Daeron is the oldest, Aegon is the youngest, with Aemond and Helaena the Forever Middle Children. (Poor Aemond can't catch a break, he is STILL the second son lol) . I like this idea solely because we could play around with how much Aegon was affected by his role as the firstborn burdened by responsibilities he doesn't want ot like vs how much of it was just his own personality. We can also take into account how Alicent would treat him differently and how that might affect him?

On a funnier note, Helaena is now betrothed to Daeron and Aemond is still destined to Die Mad About It because he can't marry her in every parallel universe it seems.

I wonder how the intra-relationships between the siblings might change as well.

I want to say that I burst out laughing at this, so thank you for that. Aemond perpetually frustrated in every iteration of reality is too comical. 😂

My goodness, I have quite a few AU explorations somewhere in the backlog of this blog, whether it's gender bending or age reversals, though I don't think I've ever thought of Daeron as the first born.

If Aegon were the baby of the family, he probably would have been sent to Oldtown, where he could have fucked, sorry, romanced his way through the Citadel & Starry Sept recruits. Oldtown is also a big city with enough brothels, I imagine, if needs be.

Meanwhile, if we keep Daeron's personality, I think he would have fared much better as the first born! Not to say that being passed over as heir wouldn't affect anyone in some way, but I don't think Daeron would have become as morose or excessively hedonistic as Aegon. He seems to have got along with all his family and cared for them, judging from his reaction to Maelor's death and from the zeal with which he kept fighting for his brother's cause. Which is to say that he'd have a better shot at a happier marriage with Helaena, to Aemond's eternal beta vexation. 😂

However, I do think Daeron would not have bullied Aemond and they would have been closer, as a result (in FB it's mentioned that Daeron displayed his share of emnity towards the Strong boys, so imagine that he's not siding with them against his little brother, although that bit was more of a show creation in the first place). Maybe with a more attentive big brother acting like an actual friend, Aemond would have been able to chill for a minute and remove the monumental stick he has shoved up his bum. I can even envision a scenario in which Daeron is enough of a confidante for Aemond to reveal to him how he's planning to claim Vhagar on Driftmark; they decide to go together and the eye-gouging never happens bc Daeron is the bigger adversary the other children can't take on.

Also, in all honesty, Aegon's and Daeron's names' would have been switched, too, as there's no way the conqueror's name doesn't go to the firstborn. To add to the confusion. :))

[orime-stories]

The Turning of the Page

Aurelle Silmontier - Final Fantasy XIV

-

The Warrior of Light runs into a familiar face at Camp Tailfeather while musing on her relationships with various people. Full story below the cut. (817 words) Previous Story / Next Story / Read on AO3 / Tumblr Masterlist

-

Stopping off at Tailfeather on the way to their next adventure felt like somewhat of a tradition at this point. Though Aurelle had not expected Estinien's absence to ache so much, now setting forth into Dravania without him. Every other time he had been here with her, treading so carelessly yet so precisely across each of her deepest anxieties with a hostility she now suspected to be as likely an expression of well-meaning concern as the emnity she had first assumed.

Her relationship with the Miqo'te eating across from her was cordial enough. Respectful. But the struggle it was to get so many of her sentences out around Y'shtola reminded her that they had never reached any significant closeness.

Reuniting with any of the old Scion team now felt like a strange jump back in time, to a different cast of characters that had missed so much of her. And that left her even more uncertain of how to hold herself or how to be. Maybe it would have been different if they had found Thancred's easy charm, or Minfilia's intimate understanding of impossible responsibilities.

But maybe that was a horrible thing to think.

Minfilia, all of them, had charged her with keeping the light of hope alive. Throwing themselves at her pursuers in such unthinking sacrifice. Which surely she had every responsibility to repay, to hope that she might see the rest of them again. To fight with everything she had to see the rest of them again.

But after the impossible lengths they had gone to to get Y'shtola back, she just didn't know how to believe such a thing to be possible. Didn't know how to truly even want it to be possible, she realised with a coldness in her belly, when the reunion she longed for most could never come to be. The bond the Heavens' Ward had sundered before her very eyes.

The moment where so many of her hopes had curdled in a way she just didn't know how to get back.

But Alphinaud was here too, carefully finishing off the remains of his own meal. Earnest and capable. The little brother that she depended so much on, far more than he could ever need her. Though she might have to fight their missing companion for the right to claim that dynamic, she mused with a rush of fondness that did much to settle the various uneases within her. Wondering how amenable Estinien would be to shared sibling-ship of the precocious young man.

And that young man's features brightened as he caught sight of someone across the room and waved them over, suddenly hurrying to finish his mouthful.

"Ysayle," Aurelle breathed as she turned to see the source of the fuss. Another blessed point of familiarity in this familiar place. Of a time that had seemed so much simpler somehow.

"I had not thought to find you here," their friend said in greeting as she joined them at their table, more relieved than confused. "What brings you this way? I thought the war won."

Aurelle face fell then. "So did we."

Alphinaud filled her in. A steady recital of events and the course that had led from them. The imprisonment of one comrade, the loss of another. The Archbishop's treachery, laid out and ordered like events from a history book. As though they had not personally experienced the turning of each and every one of those pages.

"So he means to draw out the conflict further? Knowing the truth in full?" Ysayle's silver eyes flashed ice in her anger. "Estinien had given me cause to hope..."

"Estinien's firmly with us for the final battle once we've ascertained how to get to it," Alphinaud reassured. "As are many."

"As am I," Ysayle pledged with that weighty conviction that reminded her so much of Aymeric. "Find me before this final battle. Please. I would lend mine own fury against this man that would make mockery of all we have achieved."

"We will," Aurelle promised back. "Thank you. We will."

"I am... grateful, that our paths have crossed again," Ysayle continued. "I had hoped for a chance to express my regrets. My apologies. My..."

Aurelle reached for her hand and squeezed it tightly. holding to that bond between them where no apology could ever be necessary. Two Echo-blessed women, hearts filled with dreams of a world that sorrow could never touch.

"To have believed in such childish stories..." she pressed on, as though sensing those thoughts.

"No!" Aurelle pleaded, holding to her more fiercely. "They were lovely stories! That inspired and comforted you. And me, I— They were lovely."

"You are sweet, Aurelle," Ysayle relented, tucking her fine hair behind her ear with endearing awkwardness and then resting that hand on the one that grasped her own, squeezing gently back. "I am sorry for your loss. And I am glad that you are here."

[antebellumite]

@general-andrew-jackson

i'm trying not to put too much antebellum content on my main blog so i'm going to have to answer this here.

[taking place in den of lions au ]:

" So I lost."

Despite the melancholy expression on Jackson's face, Van Buren could still feel the iron sharp bitterness under his words. Jackson's gaunt eyes furrowed in disgust, his lips curling into a wild sneer.

" It didn't even matter-- all this, and again!-- the chair of the people was snatched from my grasp."

" No one can deny you did not make a good run." Van Buren offered. Jackson snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. " Most certainly, if it were not for the underhand machinations of your enemies, you would have swept the entire country."

His soothing didn't appeal to Jackson in the slightest it seemed, the old man's eyes still closed in anger.

" I will never cease to have enemies, Van Buren." he spat. " I have done everything in my power, and still! The will of the people appears to be downtrodden again and again, by those-" he spoke too fast to make out the exact curses.

" Enough. This is tiring enough that I feel the urge to retire entirely from this."

Van Buren looked at him.

" The people still adore you. Surely another four years is more than enough time..."

He looked at Jackson.

" I don't think that giving up is proper. There are many chances left for victory."

" And how will we achieve that even in four years when we have not even managed it now?"

You hold enough power on your own without having to be President. You could be a kingmaker in your own right. It's not like President Calhoun can afford to get on your bad side either, not now. Wait. You and I will get there eventually. Eventually something bad enough will happen so that you can seize that opportunity. And I will, too. But that wasn't something that Van Buren wanted to say. He held those words for a moment, lingering on his tongue.

" Some more allies, for one." Van Buren offered. " In fact, I have friends who will be more than glad to support you."

" And why haven't they helped us before?"

Van Buren smiled. " You could say they used to be friends of some of the other candidates." he concluded. " Dissatisfied with more recent events. Or they will be, once more turmultous events occur in the future."

Jackson stayed silent for a moment. Van Buren waited, wondering if he was refusing the offer.

" Who are they, then?" Jackson asked.

Van Buren shrugged. " Well, some of them you most definatey have heard of." Van Buren continued before Jackson could ask. " Mr. Clay came to me in particular the other day, in fact. Wanted a partnership. I would be glad to accept him but only if I see your opinion first."

" Mr. Clay?!"

Jackson's eyes flashed in an instant, rising up urgently from his seat. " By the Eternal!" he exclaimed, slamming his foot onto the ground in sheer anger. " That man has been nothing but a thorn and a trouble to me ever since I arrived in Washington! He has done nothing to suggest reason for cooperating with us."

" That hardly means we can't accept his newfound help." Van Buren offered. " And he hardly seems to express the same emnity to you as you do him."

" I have great reason to be disgusted towards that man." Jackson growled. " I have no doubt that he will be a turncoat-- a Judas--"

" And we will accept him."

Van Buren felt his own voice rising to match with Jackson's but still kept the sweetness in it all the same. He watched as Jackson froze, his eyes still murderous but now also confused at Van Buren's words.

" It is for a good cause, Mr. Jackson. The people must be encouraged, and if that means accepting the help of Mr. Clay, personal feelings cannot possibly matter as much."

The look in Jackson's face stood still for a moment.

" Mr. Clay has done me much harm." he concluded bitterly. Van Buren smiled.

" And I express sympathies for your state." he concluded. " But for politics, you must accept."

And why should I? Jackson didn't ask, but he must have thought it all the same. Van Buren answered it for him.

" I understand that you blame Mr. Clay for many things." Van Buren continued. " But, and I abhor telling you this, you must now put those things behind. Do you not wish to become a man of influence? The Presidency is in your reach, Mr. Jackson, and would you turn away from a man, even a once- enemy, who seeks to help you reach it? You are a politician as well as a General, are you not?"

Jackson looked conflicted at those words, before he shook his head.

" Rachel didn't wish me to join in politics." he concluded. " I had thought that running for President then was worth upsetting her, but now-"

" Mrs. Jackson is dead." Van Buren responded bluntly.

" Yes, because-"

" And so you need to move on."

Before Jackson's shocked look could reach up to his eyes, Van Buren continued.

" If Mrs. Jackson was alive still," he soothed. " Then there would be no doubt I would not wish to pressure you on anything. If she were alive, I would urge you to retire, even, return to Tennessee and live your life as she wished you to with her, in marital bliss. "

" But she is dead. And so what then would it be to give up now?"

" It would be... it would be as though I had failed." Jackson answered. He nodded, but looked downcast. " But I do not... if being President means forfeiting my..."

" Nothing sir." Van Buren said. " You are not forfeiting anything."

" My opinions. Values. Clay and I would betray each other in a heartbeat you know that. He is despicable."

"And you will have to accept regardless." Van Buren agreed, softly. " Well? I am holding this offer up as an ultimatum Mr. Jackson. Either retire now and I will leave you for Washington and bother you no longer, or accept Mr. Clay's help and support in gaining you an office. I suppose only one of them holds a chance to progress in the world, doesn't it."

His words were harsh, but Van Buren already know that he would be forgiven for them.

Jackson looked pained at the thought of agreeing, but forced himself to nod anyways. He would have to swallow a lot worse in the future, Van Buren thought, as he planned out a course in his head. He would have to accept that.

" You will be President." Van Buren promised. He didn't miss the bitterness in Jackson's look.

" At what cost." Jackson asked.

" Whatever you have already gave, and are willing to, give."

He let out a gentle grin.

" God be with you, sir."

[thenewdeadseascrolls]

Judges 4: 18-22. "The Hammer and the Peg."

After a Jewish person embraces the bizarre synthesis of meditation practices prescribed by the Tanakh, he and she are to join others in a crusade to ensure Constitution - freedom and sound government practices- reach every corner of the world.

"Horses" and "chariots", nagging thoughts and conflicting opinions will follow, but these must be outpaced. They are to be completely outclassed.

Enter Jael, "the mountain goat who is good at something". He meets with Sisera, Meditation, and Heber, "the Associate" and has an unfortunate "accident":

18 Jael went out to meet Sisera and said to him, “Come, my lord, come right in. Don’t be afraid.” So he entered her tent, and she covered him with a blanket.

19 “I’m thirsty,” he said. “Please give me some water.” She opened a skin of milk, gave him a drink, and covered him up.

20 “Stand in the doorway of the tent,” he told her. “If someone comes by and asks you, ‘Is anyone in there?’ say ‘No.’”

21 But Jael, Heber’s wife, picked up a tent peg and a hammer and went quietly to him while he lay fast asleep, exhausted. She drove the peg through his temple into the ground, and he died.

22 Just then Barak came by in pursuit of Sisera, and Jael went out to meet him. “Come,” she said, “I will show you the man you’re looking for.” So he went in with her, and there lay Sisera with the tent peg through his temple—dead.

Heber (the associate) is the son of Beriah (see below, a son of Asher. "The companion of the means to happiness is temptation."

Prefix ב (be) means in, within or by means of.

Most broadly, the root רעע (ra'a') describes compartmentalization: to break some continuum apart into separated elements. Human minds are designed to be nodes of a much greater network of exchange, and must continuously interact to maintain a liquidity of wisdom — hence the noun רע (rea'), meaning friend or companion (and hence too the story of the Tower of Babel).

All wealth requires liquidity and that requires units of economy to go around. This explains why "evil" — רע, ra', evil — is not the opposite of "good" but instrumental to it: hence the perfect Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil in the heart of perfect Paradise. Despite popular misconceptions, in the Bible, all רע (rea') comes from God (Isaiah 45:7) and has a specific and wonderful function in any naturally evolving system.

Verb רעה (ra'a I) means to pasture or feed and the participle רעה (ra'a) means shepherd. Nouns רעי (re'i) and מרעה (mir'eh) mean pasture. Noun מרעית (mar'it) means pasturage.

Verb רעה (ra'a II) means to associate with. Nouns רע (rea'), רעה (re'eh) and מרע (merea') mean friend, associate or "neighbor". Nouns רעיה (ra'ya), רעה (re'a) and רעות (re'ut) describe a female attendant, mate or friend.

There may or not be an unused verb רעה (ra'a III) or else the following belong to the previous: noun רע (rea'), aim or purpose; nouns רעות (re'ut) and רעיון (ra'yon), longing or striving.

Verb רוע (rua') means to produce a sudden burst of sound. Nouns רע (rea') and תרועה (teru'a) describe a collective rallying cry, a war cry.

So within the Jewish mind, all minds in fact, comes a conflict as to the fastest, most effective approach to law and order and personal fulfiillment that exists. The Torah and the Mishnah say the needed equilibrium comes naturally, not to worry once one completes the Course.

Little children are capable of understanding the Model, provided adults are willing to teach and demonstrate it. We have taken it for granted but the Torah is simply the best way to incorporate young and old alike into Civil Society and hold them to it. All religions depend on this Highly Ethical Treatise as their basis, none contradict it only expound upon its benefits to life on this dreary earth.

What holds us back then? The very thing that drives us forward. Superstition. Superstitions that teach emnity between man and God and man and his partners, that try to hold us back from our natural pursuits are alien to God's plan. Those that teach pleasing God is the same thing as Constitution are the correct ones.

The Torah was the world's first Constitution- it guarantees every freedom of an actual legal document. Its composition and that of its companion documents in the Tanakh using the Hebrew language and its quirky math are works of genius. All we need to know in order to be free thinkers and free persons at low to no expense can be found within.

Back to Jael, the Mountain Goat, who got a tent peg driven through his "temple." Pegs are associated with values that resist popular uprisings- our meditating goat, no matter how earnest is still going to be subject to tempation and the blowing of the wind, so to prevent him from faltering, he was anchored with a peg:

In Vayak’hel and Pekudei, Moses conveyed G‑d’s instruction regarding the making of the Tabernacle. A team of “wise-hearted” artisans were called upon to make the Tabernacle and its furnishings.

And those who are wise in heart among you shall come and make all that G‑d commanded. . . . the tabernacle, its tent and its cover . . . the ark and its poles . . . the table . . . the menorah for light . . . and the pegs of the tabernacle and the pegs of the courtyard and their ropes . . .” (Exodus 35:10–18)

Regarding the last item cited above, Rashi explains:

The Pegs: These were driven into the ground and tied to the ends of the tapestries, so that the tapestries would not be blown by the wind.

The pegs were a sort of copper nails, made for the tapestries that served as the tent-covering of the Tabernacle and the cloth walls of the courtyard, to hold these in place so that the wind would not blow them to and fro. Like all the other major utensils of the Tabernacle, these pegs needed to be made by those who were “wise of heart.”

Understandably, the main components of the Tabernacle—the tapestries themselves, the ark, the altar, and so forth—needed to be made by artisans who would proficiently design these utensils according to G‑d’s will, permeating their work with a suitable holiness. But why was it necessary for the “pegs” and “ropes”—seemingly extraneous minutiae—to be made by those who were wise of heart?

Every individual is a “tabernacle,” a holy edifice, replete with potential for housing G‑d’s will. In helping to “construct” our children, we cannot simply impart knowledge or teach skills; we must also build personality and develop character.

Imparting values is accomplished through the major as well as minor details of our children’s lives. Even small, extraneous issues that may seem insignificant—like the pegs and ropes of the Tabernacle—must not be overlooked, but must be dealt with, with patience, perseverance, and wisdom of the heart.

The outside “winds” of foreign values can be alluring. These fiercely blowing winds can uproot the values we work so hard to instill. Our role as parents is to make sure that even the pegs and ropes are implanted firmly, so that the walls and tapestries do not blow in the wind, and that our children do not become swept down a deviant path."

The values in Gematria are:

v 18: Jael went out to meet Sisera. She covered him with a blanket. A blanket is the most important aspect of faith. It is the moment meditation reveals to us we cannot make ourselves. We, and everything on this planet, which floats in space around a sun came from somewhere. When the self realizes it was all caused by God, this is called the Security Blanket. The rest which as I said could be called superstition now becomes the logical extension of an highly intelligent and friendly God who wants to see us live and die in a state of happiness. Achieving the blanket is a clear game changer. No one is the boss of you except you after this.

The Value in Gematria is 7215, זבאה, zaba. A zaba is a collective, like a collective of gazelles who understand how to herd. Something underneath the skin of the gazelle tells it how to do this. Once one understands how the soul herds the thoughts according to the divine plan of the Spirit, the next stage of life begins.

v 19: I'm thirsty, he said. The first telltale one has performed meditation correctly is the direct experience of the kindness of God. The Hindus call the experience Shiva, "the kindest". We do not need to be here but we are. It is a great gift. To find oneself at the threshold of one's existence and realize how important is the opportunity is to find the Milk, the kindness of God. Unfortunately, one will find a shitty world that is being run by good for nothing assholes waiting after that, but that is not what God intended.

The Value in Gematria is 5786, הזחו‎ , "move in". Either way, it is all right to move in to your own body and to try to be yourself. The world will try to tell you no, but it is wrong.

v 20: “Stand in the doorway of the tent,” he told her. “If someone comes by and asks you, ‘Is anyone in there?’ say ‘No.’” Then comes the nihilistic part of meditation and spirituality in general. God is unseen. No matter where one looks, smells, listens or touches, He will always be hidden from the facuties. We have to admit to this. A meditator understands how that which is seen and also unseen work together to create this universe, also the role the Self plays in transfiguring what it wants out of the unseen into a direct experience of its own making.

Jesus has not washed anyone in the Blood, He has not atoned for anything for anyone in heaven, we are not perfectly loved by a perfect being. We are who we are and have what we have.

The Value in Gematria is 5790, הזטאֶפֶס‎‎, the zetapes, "you climbed."

v 21: But Jael, Heber’s wife, picked up a tent peg and a hammer. Hammers are the Mitzvot, which are enumerated in the Torah. Do not follow the Mitzvot without using Gematria. The Value in Gematria is 10145, יאד‎‎ה‎, yada, "understand first; obtain knowledge through the senses."

The Hebrew verb ידע (yada') means to know. This very important root occurs 944 times in the Old Testament and is found across the Semitic language spectrum. Its Greek counterpart is γινωσκω (ginosko).

This verb is used in all the expected ways, but most notably in Proverbs 1:7, where it reads: "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge". Since knowledge is typically obtained through the senses, the mere act of observation appears to be equal with fearing God.

v 22: Just then Barak came by in pursuit of Sisera, and Jael went out to meet him = the Lightning came in pursuit of the Meditation, and the goat went out. We aren't mountain goats, we are men. That stage of life has to end. Understanding of the knowledge is the way the climb ends. The Value in Gematria is 14063, ידאֶפֶסוג‎‎, yadapesug, "I will type, you will be reset, ‎‎you will slip."

The slip is the very first sin that took place in the Garden of Eden, the loss of virginity. Once this happens, life gets more complicated as we all know. How one should manage this is detailed in the Torah.

[cirilee]

a typical parent teacher conference

[shinyfire-0]

I think people are so disgusted/horrified by the incel comparison that they can't possibly conceive that Erik could be that way too. I wonder if it's because this argument is being made on Tumblr and there's long been a traditional emnity between the 'snowflakes of Tumblr' and the 'right wing incels of 4chan and Twitter and Reddit'? (I say snowflakes with love 😍 I am 110% snowflake). I wonder if it's hard to conceive that incels could be deserving of compassion; it's easy dehumanise them and give them a collective name that is derogatory. One can't be seen to defend incels but Erik (entitled, murdering, rapey Erik) on the other hand, is infinitely defendable.

This is not a defense of shitty political views or men who feel themselves entitled to women's bodies. But what is forced marriage if not entitlement, especially in the 19th century, especially when marriage meant sex.

Some people who have had terrible lives and are deeply traumatised end up not being able to break that cycle of abuse, and continue to perpetrate abuse on those less powerful than then. It's one of the great tragedies of humanity. I am not saying that those who are abused are inevitably abusers, absolutely not. But Erik was abused and he was an abuser. It's not a black and white, either/or thing. It's OK to acknowledge that he is traumatised man as well as being a deeply abusive one. People - both in real life and in fiction - are complicated.

I sometimes write a fairly 'defanged' version of Erik 🥰. I like to explore what he might have been like had he not been so abused and traumatised. And sometimes I write about him being horrible and evil. It's OK to imagine him anyway you like - I know I do!

Just because we have empathy and compassion for a person does not mean that we cannot also say that their actions are wrong. And if we can have empathy for Erik, in his murdering, raping ways, I think we are comfronted with the uncomfortable fact that we may also have to have empathy and compassion for incels.

if you think erik is an incel you misunderstood the entire story 🥰

[florbelles]

ask, lips, knife, silence

cw for general lyra melodramtiques on knife i guess

ASK & LIPS.

"did you ever kill me, i wonder? when you imagined it. did you hold me under? did i suffer?"

(yes.)

"now, why would i do that?"

(usually he strangles her.)

"yes, i can see you did." she smiles wryly. "no matter, i should hardly blame you. and now? do you wish to kill me now?"

(this instant or generally.)

"do you?" he asks instead. "intend to kill me?"

she throws her head back. laughs. "to what possible end? you're in no danger from me, baptist. i've told you."

this is a lie, he thinks. she might not know it. but it's a lie.

she is studying him, lips pursed. head cocked.

"what."

"i'm trying to decide if i would have killed you before."

"before?"

"in your other life." she extends her fingers. he hands off his cigarette begrudgingly.

"i'm riveted."

"then i shall not bore you with my decision."

KNIFE.

"i have never," she hisses, "pretended otherwise. never."

the knife at her throat, her knuckles white, her eyes ablaze. do it, baptist. i have been ready all my life.

SILENCE.

she cannot match the creature in temper or passion or wit; she cannot match her in charm or guile or pleasantries, and so she does not make a rival of her, displays no emnity, displays nothing at all. the girl cannot fight silence; the girl is driven mad. the girl seeks to provoke.

but she is finished. she is emptied. she will not be deceived by the devil twice. not again. never again.

no matter how clever and pretty it might be.

[cactusspatz]

June recs

Again, pretty much entirely The Untamed, plus one lovely WIP for The Goblin Emperor that finally finished up. Also like my May set, I read and loved too many things (despite going back to work), so I’m doing a top five and then the rest under the cut.

(Yes, I am mostly putting that gif there so that I have something pretty to look at while I type. No, I am not sorry.)

Wearing Down Every Bone by CSHfic & VSfic

“Sizhui, tell me,” Wei Wuxian says. “Does this feel... familiar to you?”

or, After running into Lan Zhan on a night hunt, Wei Wuxian is cursed to live the same day over and over and over.

In which Wei Wuxian runs into Lan Wangji and the juniors on a night hunt, and gets cursed to repeat the day. Time loop fic, casefile/curse fic, post-canon romance, AND a haunting ghost story, intertwined exquisitely. And just beautifully written, I enjoyed every second of it. Highly, highly recommended.

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou

Wei Wuxian travels to Lanling for his nephew’s one-month celebration alone, without Wen Ning.

Lan Wangji lives with the consequences.

In which Wei Wuxian is badly injured and presumed dead at Qiongqi Way and Lan Wangji goes to the Burial Mounds. I described this to a friend as ‘very hurt, very comfort’ and I stand by that. It’s eventually a fix-it and a happy ending, but there’s a lot of great emotional and physical agony along the way. Loved it.

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner

The second time Lan Zhan said Wei Ying, come back, Wei Wuxian did.

Excellent slow-build working-out-their-issues get-together. I’m trying to think of something pithy to say about it, but it’s just a lot of great character work and unfurling intimacy, in the newfound peace after the end of canon.

this rivers runs to you by sundiscus

In which Wei Wuxian is a curse worker secretly searching for a lost dragon, Lan Wangji is his new assistant, and the two things may not be entirely unrelated.

Wonderful modern AU with magic - I loved the worldbuilding for how the war and the cultivation world work in a modern setting (plus the dragons), the cursebreaking work, and also the truckload of feelings this fic dumped directly onto my heart. Also, DRAGONS.

SanRen by Kyogre/@kyogre-blue

Leaving YunmengJiang in an effort to curb the tensions in the Jiang family, Wei WuXian becomes a rogue cultivator.

Even without the support of a sect, he is a rare genius whose name will become known across the cultivation world and whose techniques will influence the course of a war.

However, what influences his own fate is a chance meeting that becomes the first step toward love.

Great canon-divergence long read with tons of action and pining. Distinctly book-canon in style and content, but without any of the things that I usually dislike about that.

And then twenty-one more Untamed fics plus one Goblin Emperor rec under the cut:

POSTCANON

grow by cafecliche - cursed-on-a-nighthunt de-aged Wei Wuxian from Lan Sizhui's POV. Darling and full of feels.

Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste - in which Jiang Cheng goes to reconcile with Wei Wuxian and discovers his uncle duties have expanded. Funny, touching, and made me actually forgive Jiang Cheng for the length of the fic, which is nigh miraculous.

The Guests of Cloud Recesses by cafecliche - a gorgeous ghost story that brings out some lingering questions between WWX and LWJ about the time he was dead.

No more looking, I’ve found home by @annadream - adorable epistolary fic, in which WWX writes letters to LWJ, but takes a bit to realize they're love letters.

Salt in Our Sentences by hansbekhart - an unsettling knifeblade of a story about Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji’s emnity and broken friendship. Sometimes, relationships can’t be fixed, and this story digs into that truth with a combination of flashbacks and a post-canon rescue.

CANON DIVERGENCE AUS

Strange Darling by etymologyplayground/@megafaunatic - in which they talk post-Yi City about Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen, and end up actually communicating about their feelings, whoops.

Child Surprise by Ariaste - only marginally an AU, in that the Law of Surprise (from The Witcher) is gently added to canon like a heartwrenching cherry of destiny centered around A-Yuan, but things otherwise are the same. Lovely.

a stone to break your soul, a song to save it by rikke - very long, very epic book-canon arranged marriage AU that deals with the physical effects of WWX’s demonic cultivation in a fascinating and wonderfully angsty way, plus loads of cool worldbuilding and adventure.

A Series of Hasty Excuses by @tanoraqui/NevillesGran - originally posted on Tumblr and therefore written in bulletpoints, but a completely hilarious AU where Nie Huaisang accidentally acquires some Wens and grows into his Slytherin powers in a less traumatic way.

Losing My Mind by pupeez4eva - in which Jiang Cheng overdoses on a lust telepathy potion at the Cloud Recesses lecture and inevitably discovers Lan Wangji’s epic crush and has to DO SOMETHING about it before he loses it. RIP, Jiang Cheng.

Innocence by snowberryrose - in which A-Yuan is left with Wei Wuxian when the Wens go to Carp Tower, and WWX raises him. The writing is rough and could use a good beta, but it’s a sweet and thoughtful AU.

MISSING YEARS/MISSING SCENES

Criteria by incendir - in which some brave but oblivious people try to hit on sad widower Hanguang-Jun, and Sizhui is not a fan of it.

After & Then by tellthemstories - a lovely pair of stories about Lan Wangji grieving but parenting Sizhui, and then Sizhui’s perspective.

sing to that lonely child by ravenditefairylights/ @child-of-the-fairy-folk - in which Sizhui tries to figure out what his mother was like from the gaps and scraps and grief left behind, and is pretty confused and conflicted when his father falls for Mo Xuanyu. (note that despite the Untamed tag, this seems to draw on the book events post-resurrection)

MODERN AUS

save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae/@fozmeadows - in which Lan Wangji fake-dates Wei Wuxian after his uncle a) tries to arrange his marriage and b) is incredibly homophobic when he explains he’s gay. Light and fun and charming, with just a dash of coping with their shitty parental figures.

i’ll be your girl by plonk - I don’t think I can improve on the author’s summary: “At Nie Huaisang’s Halloween party, Wei Ying hits on noted heterosexual Lan Zhan. Successfully.” or the tag for ‘idiots to lovers’. Very hot, frequently hilarious, gloriously queer and kinky, and while they are definitely dumbasses I thought the specific misunderstanding was entirely in-character for them.

Just So by airinshaw - YouTube artists AU, entirely made of warm fuzzies and good porn.

Also I can’t resist a shameless self-plug for a fight you can’t win, my modern AU porn-with-feelings and self-destructive Wei Wuxian angst-with-a-happy-ending fic.

VIDS

hhhhmmm???.mp4 by @dukeblobfish​ - I laugh more and more every time I watch this.

A Love That Won’t Sit Still by Aria/@thedaisiestdaisy​ - Am I weak for fanvids to this song? Sure am. Is is still a great Wangxian vid? Sure fucking is!

two by @orestesdreams-pyladesloves​ - I will love you without any strings attached. Hello, all of my Lan Zhan feelings.

(THE GOBLIN EMPEROR, Csevet/Maia) A Birthday Present for Maia Drazhar by Zhisanin - based on a kinkmeme prompt where Varenechibel sends a courier to his fourth son as a “birthday gift”, with all the gross implications of that. The courier is, of course Csevet - but Maia, of course, is the best and Csevet falls for him hard and fast. Bittersweet but hopeful look at Maia’s life at Edonomee, cozy and hot in turns.

[amaximumtastemakercollection]

Dany is the kind of queen who protects her people, except in Dany’s case she often does more than this:

A mounted warrior rode up and vaulted from his saddle. He spoke to Haggo, a stream of angry Dothraki too fast for Dany to understand. The huge bloodrider gave her a heavy look before he turned to his khal. "This one is Mago, who rides in the khas of Ko Jhaqo. He says the khaleesi has taken his spoils, a daughter of the lambs who was his to mount."

Khal Drogo's face was still and hard, but his black eyes were curious as they went to Dany. "Tell me the truth of this, moon of my life," he commanded in Dothraki.

Dany told him what she had done, in his own tongue so the khal would understand her better, her words simple and direct.

When she was done, Drogo was frowning. "This is the way of war. These women are our slaves now, to do with as we please."

"It pleases me to hold them safe," Dany said, wondering if she had dared too much.  

(Daenerys VII, AGOT)

The Lhazarene women are not Dany’s people and yet she does what ever she can within her limited power to protect them from further rape and abuse, risking her husband’s wrath and incurring the emnity of several of the men within Khal Drogo’s khalasaar in the process.

It is time to cross the Trident, Dany thought, as she wheeled and rode her silver back. Her bloodriders moved in close around her. “You are in difficulty,” she observed. 

“He will not come,” Kraznys said.

 “There is a reason. A dragon is no slave.” And Dany swept the lash down as hard as she could across the slaver’s face. Kraznys screamed and staggered back, the blood running red down his cheeks into his perfumed beard. The harpy’s fingers had torn his features half to pieces with one slash, but she did not pause to contemplate the ruin. “Drogon,” she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten. “Dracarys.”

(...)

“Spears!” Dany heard one Astapori shout. It was Grazdan, old Grazdan in his tokar heavy with pearls. “Unsullied! Defend us, stop them, defend your masters! Spears! Swords!”

 When Rakharo put an arrow through his mouth, the slaves holding his sedan chair broke and ran, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground. The old man crawled to the first rank of eunuchs, his blood pooling on the bricks. 

The Unsullied did not so much as look down to watch him die. Rank on rank on rank, they stood. And did not move. The gods have heard my prayer. 

“Unsullied!” Dany galloped before them, her silver-gold braid flying behind her, her bell chiming with every stride. “Slay the Good Masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who wears a tokar or holds a whip, but harm no child under twelve, and strike the chains off every slave you see.” She raised the harpy’s fingers in the air … and then she flung the scourge aside. “Freedom!” she sang out. 

“Dracarys! Dracarys!” “Dracarys!” they shouted back, the sweetest word she’d ever heard. “Dracarys! Dracarys!” And all around them slavers ran and sobbed and begged and died, and the dusty air was filled with spears and fire.

(Daenerys III, ASOS)

The slaves of Astapor are not Dany’s people, yet she comes up with an incredibly bold and risky plan to free them, jeopardizing her life and the life of her small khalasaar in the process.

Daenerys Targaryen is such a motherly figure and has such a huge heart that she’ll take any person who is oppressed or suffering or in any need whatsoever under her wing and protect them, regardless of whether they are her people or not.  

To paraphrase Tyrion Lannister, Dany is above all a rescuer.

.