#also I named my Kindle Alexandria

[newtonsheffield]

I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF OFF THE GRID YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW

LIGHTS OUT IS UP NEXT AND THEN I’M COMING BACK FOR THE OFF THE GRID SEQUEL

[fordecree7]

THE BIBLE BOOK OF GOD

New Testament

Acts 28

Paul on Malta

28 After we were brought safely through, we then learned that the island was called Malta. 2 The native people showed us unusual kindness, for they kindled a fire and welcomed us all, because it had begun to rain and was cold. 3 When Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks and put them on the fire, a viper came out because of the heat and fastened on his hand. 4 When the native people saw the creature hanging from his hand, they said to one another, “No doubt this man is a murderer. Though he has escaped from the sea, Justice has not allowed him to live.” 5 He, however, shook off the creature into the fire and suffered no harm. 6 They were waiting for him to swell up or suddenly fall down dead. But when they had waited a long time and saw no misfortune come to him, they changed their minds and said that he was a god.

7 Now in the neighborhood of that place were lands belonging to the chief man of the island, named Publius, who received us and entertained us hospitably for three days. 8 It happened that the father of Publius lay sick with fever and dysentery. And Paul visited him and prayed, and putting his hands on him, healed him. 9 And when this had taken place, the rest of the people on the island who had diseases also came and were cured. 10 They also honored us greatly, and when we were about to sail, they put on board whatever we needed.

Paul Arrives at Rome

11 After three months we set sail in a ship that had wintered in the island, a ship of Alexandria, with the twin gods as a figurehead. 12 Putting in at Syracuse, we stayed there for three days. 13 And from there we made a circuit and arrived at Rhegium. And after one day a south wind sprang up, and on the second day we came to Puteoli. 14 There we found brothers and were invited to stay with them for seven days. And so we came to Rome. 15 And the brothers there, when they heard about us, came as far as the Forum of Appius and Three Taverns to meet us. On seeing them, Paul thanked God and took courage. 16 And when we came into Rome, Paul was allowed to stay by himself, with the soldier who guarded him.

Paul in Rome

17 After three days he called together the local leaders of the Jews, and when they had gathered, he said to them, “Brothers, though I had done nothing against our people or the customs of our fathers, yet I was delivered as a prisoner from Jerusalem into the hands of the Romans. 18 When they had examined me, they wished to set me at liberty, because there was no reason for the death penalty in my case. 19 But because the Jews objected, I was compelled to appeal to Caesar—though I had no charge to bring against my nation. 20 For this reason, therefore, I have asked to see you and speak with you, since it is because of the hope of Israel that I am wearing this chain.” 21 And they said to him, “We have received no letters from Judea about you, and none of the brothers coming here has reported or spoken any evil about you. 22 But we desire to hear from you what your views are, for with regard to this sect we know that everywhere it is spoken against.”

23 When they had appointed a day for him, they came to him at his lodging in greater numbers. From morning till evening he expounded to them, testifying to the kingdom of God and trying to convince them about Jesus both from the Law of Moses and from the Prophets. 24 And some were convinced by what he said, but others disbelieved. 25 And disagreeing among themselves, they departed after Paul had made one statement: “The Holy Spirit was right in saying to your fathers through Isaiah the prophet:

26 “‘Go to this people, and say, “You will indeed hear but never understand,     and you will indeed see but never perceive.” 27 For this people's heart has grown dull,     and with their ears they can barely hear,     and their eyes they have closed; lest they should see with their eyes     and hear with their ears and understand with their heart     and turn, and I would heal them.’

28 Therefore let it be known to you that this salvation of God has been sent to the Gentiles; they will listen.”

30 He lived there two whole years at his own expense, and welcomed all who came to him, 31 proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance.

Acts 28

Diane Beauford

[wufflesvetinari]

IA copyright lawsuit, or “The Wayback Machine is Under Attack”

So, the Internet Archive copyright lawsuit thing is more complicated than it appears. This is a good rundown of the legal questions involved, while this NPR piece describes the reaction to “National Emergency Library” that pushed things to the brink.

TL;DR, the IA provides crucial archiving services (including the Wayback Machine), but they’ve recently started a large-scale illegal lending model that put their other services at risk. This is really disappointing to me and I’m going to write a long, dry post about it.

Essentially, the Internet Archive has historically only allowed books to be “lent out” digitally to as many people as the IA has physical copies stored. So if they have 2 copies of Mary Sue’s new book, only 2 people can be reading their PDF scans at a time. This was enough for many publishers and authors to look the other way (although groups like the Science Fiction Writers of America has been decrying the practice for years, since in many cases they were “lending” books they didn’t have licensing for.)

Because, while this is similar to the system used by libraries, libraries pay for each lending copy of their book (ensuring that the authors, artists, publicists, editors, etc are getting paid). the IA, from many accounts, did not pay for all of these books in the first place. but again, small-scale enough that nobody went after them for it.

Due to the pandemic, they removed the waiting list for these books, arguing it was in the national public interest to have access to knowledge. Great! I respect this ideology. Except that rather than paying ~$0 for two digital copies w/o author permission, they’re now paying ~$0 for unlimited copies w/o author permission. Writers who put years of labor into these books began kicking up a fuss (including Chuck Wendig, who’s receiving death threats because I guess he’s the most recognizable name involved?) and publishers sued.

So nobody’s goal is to get the Archive taken down entirely. Instead, the argument is that the damages claimed in the lawsuit could absolutely be large enough to cripple them. The IA ended the emergency lending program earlier than planned, so we’ll see if the suit goes through after all.

So, why is this complicated?

On the one hand, copyright law sucks right now and many are understandably infuriated at the idea of huge publishing companies suing a free library. 

On the other hand, they were not operating as a library, and creators were failing to be paid for their work. with the new lending model, Mary Sue Author (who, as an average author, receives wages below the poverty line) is worried that this change is actively preventing her from making a living. If she’s a new author, an impact to her numbers is enough to ensure that the publisher doesn’t buy her next book. 

If Mary Sue is a marginalized author, she’s especially at risk of economic insecurity. If Mary Sue and authors like her cannot afford to write books, writing remains a domain of privilege. 

(Also, there’s some legal argument that if Mary Sue fails to actively protect her copyright, she could lose it. I’m not an expert and won’t weigh in on this.)

But wait! (Common Counterarguments swirling on the Twitters):

“Writing should be a hobby anyway. If you care about making money for your art, you’re not a real artist.” Hopefully we are all familiar by now with how shit this argument is; we see it a lot around here flung at visual artists. Pay people for their work! Also, again: this is how you get a bunch of WASP authors and nobody else.

“It’s actually the publishers screwing the authors, so this is a punishment for the publishers.” Except it is...not. It is not. The people most likely to suffer would be the writers, not the publishers. 

“Libraries are closed, so what are we supposed to do about it?” This one is tricky right now, but I’d first check to see if your library participates in an e-lending service (many do). check out OverDrive or Audible, which do pay authors. Project Gutenberg has free classics in the public domain. Amazon has its own problems, but Kindle Unlimited allows access to many, many free books where the author is actually seeing payment. 

“Okay, but why should the digital library of Alexandria go down because some authors are mad?” I honestly really want to ask this question to whoever was making these lending decisions at the IA, because I also am very pissed about it. I don’t know why they thought publishers would ignore this very blatantly illegal thing (not even “grey area”--just under current copyright law, completely illegal). Regardless of whether copyright law currently sucks ass, it was a weird move! And now bad things are happening.

“Fuck off, everybody mad about this writes YA and science fiction, not real literature. Who cares if those guys get paid?” Seriously. This is a very common rebuttal on Twitter right now. Burn Twitter.

“Honestly you’re right but I just want free shit.” is it weird that this is the response I most respect

In case you skimmed all that, my point isn’t “copyright law is good, actually.” It’s that the issue is more complex than donation drive posts have portrayed it as. 

[thebooksaidthat]

5 Contemporary Book Recommendations with WLW relationships!

As promised, this is my list of 5 book recs with FF centered relationships! They’re in no particular order and I hope it’ll motivate you to read some good queer works of art! 

1. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid Link to book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32620332-the-seven-husbands-of-evelyn-hugo

Synopsis: Aging and reclusive Hollywood movie icon Evelyn Hugo is finally ready to tell the truth about her glamorous and scandalous life. When she chooses unknown magazine reporter Monique Grant for the job, no one in the journalism community is more astounded than Monique herself. Why her? Why now? Monique is not exactly on top of the world. Her husband, David, has left her, and her career has stagnated. Regardless of why Evelyn has chosen her to write her biography, Monique is determined to use this opportunity to jumpstart her career. Summoned to Evelyn’s Upper East Side apartment, Monique listens as Evelyn unfurls her story: from making her way to Los Angeles in the 1950s to her decision to leave show business in the late 80s, and, of course, the seven husbands along the way. As Evelyn’s life unfolds—revealing a ruthless ambition, an unexpected friendship, and a great forbidden love—Monique begins to feel a very a real connection to the actress. But as Evelyn’s story catches up with the present, it becomes clear that her life intersects with Monique’s own in tragic and irreversible ways. --> I read this a few months ago and I remembered myself just putting my Kindle down onto the bed and looked into my imaginary camera man’s face thinking about the ending. I loved everything about this book, the friendship, the romance and the style of writing tied them up nicely. Also, apparently there’s going to be a TV series coming soon in the future so yes I’m 110% confident I’ll be crying with a bag of chips at the end too ;’) Seriously though, do yourself a favor and read this! 2. The Falling in Love Montage by Ciara Smyth Link to book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53066661-the-falling-in-love-montage

Synopsis: Saoirse doesn’t believe in love at first sight or happy endings. If they were real, her mother would still be able to remember her name and not in a care home with early onset dementia. A condition that Saoirse may one day turn out to have inherited. So she’s not looking for a relationship. She doesn’t see the point in igniting any romantic sparks if she’s bound to burn out. But after a chance encounter at an end-of-term house party, Saoirse is about to break her own rules. For a girl with one blue freckle, an irresistible sense of mischief, and a passion for rom-coms. Unbothered by Saoirse’s no-relationships rulebook, Ruby proposes a loophole: They don’t need true love to have one summer of fun, complete with every cliché, rom-com montage-worthy date they can dream up—and a binding agreement to end their romance come fall. It would be the perfect plan, if they weren’t forgetting one thing about the Falling in Love Montage: when it’s over, the characters actually fall in love… for real. --> The Falling in Love Montage is one of favorite FF books because I couldn’t not relate myself with the main character, Saoirse. I loved her humor throughout the book. She came off a little strong at first and it did seem like she was annoying but there’s a reason why she’s so sarcastic and cynical and I loved that the book wasn’t all 100% about the romance (although that is one of the best parts of it). I binged this within two days and I was fairly satisfied at the end and I can’t not recommend this enough for those who want to read a happy queer romance book! ALSO I LOVE THE COVER SO MUCH 3. The Weight of the Stars by K. Ancrum Link to book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36952571-the-weight-of-the-stars

Synopsis: Ryann Bird dreams of traveling across the stars. But a career in space isn’t an option for a girl who lives in a trailer park on the wrong side of town. So Ryann becomes her circumstances and settles for acting out and skipping school to hang out with her delinquent friends. One day she meets Alexandria: a furious loner who spurns Ryann’s offer of friendship. After a horrific accident leaves Alexandria with a broken arm, the two misfits are brought together despite themselves—and Ryann learns her secret: Alexandria’s mother is an astronaut who volunteered for a one-way trip to the edge of the solar system. Every night without fail, Alexandria waits to catch radio signals from her mother. And its up to Ryann to lift her onto the roof day after day until the silence between them grows into friendship, and eventually something more . . . In K. Ancrum’s signature poetic style, this slow-burn romance will have you savoring every page. --> The Weight of The Stars is mostly a quiet read, and when they say slow-burn, they really mean it. I loved this one a lot even thought it’s mostly a character-driven type of book. This is sort of an enemies-to-lovers type of book, though it went fairly quickly from enemies to friends. This book feels like something you should read slowly, just to savor it all and process everything on the pages.  4. Her Name in The Sky by Kelly Quindlen Link to book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20886492-her-name-in-the-sky

Synopsis: Hannah wants to spend her senior year of high school going to football games and Mardi Gras parties with her tight-knit group of friends. The last thing she wants is to fall in love with a girl--especially when that girl is her best friend, Baker. Hannah knows she should like Wally, the kind, earnest boy who asks her to prom. She should cheer on her friend Clay when he asks Baker to be his girlfriend. She should follow the rules of her conservative Louisiana community--the rules that have been ingrained in her since she was a child. But Hannah longs to be with Baker, who cooks macaroni and cheese with Hannah late at night, who believes in the magic of books as much as Hannah does, and who challenges Hannah to be the best version of herself. And Baker might want to be with Hannah, too--if both girls can embrace that world-shaking, yet wondrous, possibility.  --> Her Name in The Sky is a beautiful coming age story between two girls in a conservative town. I did find this one slightly harder to read because I usually stray away from books like these but I think it’s good to pick something up like this from time to time. Don’t be scared away though because this has a good and happy ending to it. 5. Something to Talk About by Meryl Wilsner Link to book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52915426-something-to-talk-about

Synopsis: A showrunner and her assistant give the world something to talk about when they accidentally fuel a ridiculous rumor in this debut romance. Hollywood powerhouse Jo is photographed making her assistant Emma laugh on the red carpet, and just like that, the tabloids declare them a couple. The so-called scandal couldn't come at a worse time--threatening Emma's promotion and Jo's new movie. As the gossip spreads, it starts to affect all areas of their lives. Paparazzi are following them outside the office, coworkers are treating them differently, and a "source" is feeding information to the media. But their only comment is "no comment". With the launch of Jo's film project fast approaching, the two women begin to spend even more time together, getting along famously. Emma seems to have a sixth sense for knowing what Jo needs. And Jo, known for being aloof and outwardly cold, opens up to Emma in a way neither of them expects. They begin to realize the rumor might not be so off base after all...but is acting on the spark between them worth fanning the gossip flames? --> Another queer rom-com heading your way with this final rec! This was a fun and cute read about the romance between Jo, who is a Chinese Hollywood star and her assistant, Emma. I read this in a book slump and I loved it, its sort of a fake-dating trope like book and I’ve never read something like this outside of fanfiction so it was an enjoyable experience all the way! Also, when the author described Jo at one of the red carpets with her dress with pockets, my mind automatically imagined Gemma Chan from Crazy Rich Asians as her.

[wolffyluna]

TMA Liveblog: Up to Ep 57

NB: For the past few days, I have been travelling with minimal access to my laptop. I’m back home now, and so can actually type this on a keyboard! But I have an unusual amount of episodes to ‘liveblog,’ and it’s been an unusually long time since I listened to some of them. If there’s any really obvious things that I missed, that’s probably why.

Crusader: Another Gertrude episode! And another Archive, apparently? I’m not super confident about Jon’s assertion that there seems to be an unbroken chain of Archives. A thing in the 1100s and a thing in the 1800-2000s does not an unbroken chain make. (Though it does make me wonder about the geographical distribution of Archives. Like, is there one for the whole world, or are there more than one at once? How do oral cultures deal with the need for an Archive?)

A feeling of being watched seems to be linked/associated with Archives. So, that’s a bit worrying. Though maybe less worrying than it being attached to archivists, I guess?

I have mixed feelings about Gertrude blowing up the Alexandria Archive. On the one hand, all that knowledge, gone! It could have been useful! It could also have been infohazardous! (But there’s only one way to find out!)

Still Life: I really like the tax assessor. I simultaneously want him to show up again because I love his personality, and don’t want him to show up again, because I know what happens to recurring characters! But I like him. I have a soft spot for tax assessors in general, and I like how open minded he is.

The anglerfish showed up again! I wonder if it’s the same sort of thing as Not Sasha and The Anatomy Students*? All of those things mimic humans imperfectly.

Also, I’ve started to notice a pattern: people keep mentioning they should have run away, shouldn’t have investigated-- but they investigated anyway. And there’s two possible explanations. There’s the Doylist one, that a story where people ran away at the first hint of the supernatural would be boring. But there’s also the Watsonian one, where something is compelling them to investigate. I’m worried about the Watsonian one.

...why is Gertrude removing the eyes from her books? That’s a little concerning.

Pest Control: Poor Jon. I want to just let him debunk obviously false things forever.

I have a theory about the cosmology. So, Jane Prentiss and Amhurst are definitely very similar. Association with disease and vermin, go up like a torch, etc. But they are also obviously very different things. With Jane, the insects and disease go hand in hand in a way that is not true of Amhurst. I wonder if there’s some sort of aspect thing going on? Like, how Barbie-as-skater and Barbie-as-baby-doctor are both aspects of Barbie, I wonder if there if Disease-as-Jane-Prentiss and Disease-as-John-Amhurst is what’s going on here. (It’d also fit with some of what Michael said? ‘Michael is one aspect of a larger thing’ fits with a lot of his comments about hands not owning stomachs, etc.)

Also, Lightless Flame and Disease really do not get along, do they? Both on a ‘directly fighting each other’ and ‘metaphyisically opposed’** level. Also, I think the landlord was a cultist? Maybe? I’m lost.

Children of the Night: (Trevor describing his hunting of vampires like an addiction)(Me accidentally getting spoiled in ways I can’t describe, lest I spoil others, but in ways that give that statement Implications) Hmmm...

Also, there are people filled with spiders. For reasons. ?????

Jon’s blow up with Martin is... ouch. Ouch. At least it ended well, and It Isn’t Paranoia If They Are Actually Out To Get You... but ouch. I feel sorry for all involved***. (Also, I’m a little ??? at Elias’ hiring methods, because parapsychology sounds incredibly fake.)

Personal Space: So, making it so someone can’t perceive the Earth, and has food that never runs out is certainly... something different. I didn’t realise that was on the table, but apparently it is on the table.

And it was a Fairchilds (associated with Weird Infini-Spaces), Lukases (associated with... something? Human sacrifice, maybe?) and Optic Solutions co-production. Optic Solutions is especially concerning, because it’s definitely associated with Being Watched (a thing which I am now going to call Eyes McGee, because apparently everything is personified and the name amuses me), and Ny-Alesund, which I had pegged as associated with The Thing That Hates Lightbulbs. So either I haven’t pegged ‘who’ ‘owns’ what right, or that was at least a three way team up? Aaaaargh?

Not Sasha does not want to be recorded (wants to avoid people noticing the difference in the voices? Wants to avoid Jon sneakily doing the laptop-vs-tape validation trick? just doesn’t want her boss recording her like a creep?) and is messing with the Hilltop Road cases specifically. Messing with the Hilltop Road cases is giving me pause: the other statements she messed with had original Sasha’s voice on them, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the case with Hilltop Road. Also, Not Sasha seems to be associated with Spiders (she came from the table, as far as I can tell?), but Hilltop appeared to be a Lightless Flame and Eyes McGee co-production? Why would she care? I’m confused.

*Would also be a good name for a band.

**I don’t know how to describe it coherently. But the fact that Prentiss and Amhurst went up like kindling seems important, you know? Like ‘holy things hurt vampires’ is important in other universes.

***I can’t quite tell which is worse, being Jon or being around Jon right now. And while in general, being is worse than being around, in this case it’s a close race, you know? It probably suck way worse to be Jon, but it also certainly sucks to have a boss that is probably stalking you and definitely erratically blowing up at you.

[plounce]

do you have any molly or widomauk fic recs? You have good characterization taste & I miss him and need to recover from seeing caleb/nott/molly as a relationship tag

well after that gutpunch of a closing line, here are my offerings:

… under a cut because there are a LOT. rifled through my bookmarks and subscriptions for this. hope you like these! my ultimate personal faves are bolded. newer additions are starred.

massive widomauk indulgence (oneshots & completed fics)

take your kid gloves off - oh this is SUCH a fave!! teacher au. really good mature emotions… still has the pining that makes fic great but it doesn’t feel soap opera-y as some do. read this please.

my only sunshine - soulmate au! i can be very picky about soulmate aus but this one really agreed with me. follows canon where it can. this was great!! very tender and sweet and hurts at the right parts and is so good at the right parts

twisters chasing storms - written in the week between ep 25 and ep 26. beau centric with side wm. the remaining members of the m9 have to deal with doing what they must to get them back. kind of dark but just like. oof. i reread this a bunch. really good character work in this. (violence warning)

Caleb, huddled on the cart over Molly’s books, says what Beau has been thinking all along: “Jester and Fjord and Yasha were not terrible. This—” and he gestures around at all of them, “—is a terrible combination.”

“That’s slander,” says Molly. “I’m a good person. And—you know, you’re—you’re not all great, sure, but you do good things. I like you.”

The rest of them look at him.

“Okay, that was weak,” he admits.

any clever ideas? - molly and caleb make out in the evening nip in order to dissuade cree from talking with molly. it is SO GOOD and just. rules. it hits those trope buttons perfectly. i LOVE this one 

strictly ballroom - UNDERCOVER AT A FANCY DRESS BALL… DANCING… PINING… JEALOUSY… this is SUCH an indulgent fave and i just enjoy it so much. this is a FUN read. THIS is what i enjoy fic for

discover us safely destroyed - an interesting character study from the zadash arc

our early days - pre relationship. figuring each other out and being tender and protective. taking care of each other. (violence warning)

the crossroads - caleb falls in battle and has a conversation in limbo (without knowing he’s in limbo). very bittersweet and so like… OOF

hopscotch - a lot of the m9 body swap. good character stuff. the differences in molly and caleb’s brains in terms of memory capabilities is… ouch! ouch!! it’s really good. “you’re my friends. i trust you.”

let’s dance - this one is an older one one, and cute! dancing!

comfort walks softly on little cat feet - h/c. an older one, and very sweet.

strange light - a good coda to the cali ep, which was hard to find. measured characterizations with some molly details i adore - his love of theatrics, and keeping copies of lucien’s wanted posters that he’s torn down and using them for kindling.

a street cat named frumpkin - a cute little modern au with side wm! hooray for kitties.

familiar comfort - frumpkin pov. implied wm. really super excellent. i LOVE frumpkin pov stuff

until you set your old heart free - modern with magic… established relationship… molly gets rezzed and returns home… ohhhhhhhh. oh my heart 

take me back into your arms - molly gets rezzed! tam lin setup! hell yeah! power of love babey!!

kiss me once, kiss me twice - a series for kiss prompts!! so sweet. this one has some really heartwarming modern au installments that i just adore

something new for me and you - this one recently wrapped up! a good multichapter, probably the peak modern urban au in the tag. very detailed and has some very good themes about like… feeling love and feeling deserving of relationships and having to grapple with being bond to the people you’re close to. ALSO has background claysol which you KNOW i’m a BIG SUCKER for. very charming!

*indelible - modern au! tattoo parlor stuff, which can be very hit or miss for me, but this was such a sweet, lovely au with a lot of like. recovery stuff in it? for both of them. very nice.

*meet me in the woods - OOF this has such such delicious piiiining… yearning! molly Noticing caleb’s hands and the two of them slowly growing closer. it was such a sweet read and i enjoyed the whole thing like a soft blanket.

*boats and birds - i love this! such a great snapshot of molly (swinging from the ropes on the ball eater, and being a bit reckless & unlucky in his circus tricks - that’s my bitch!), and such a lovely, telling interaction between him and caleb. i loved that “did you just tell a joke? well, it was a good one” bit, and i love fics that revisit it with a bit more future tenderness. this is the line that won me completely over to this fic:

Because Molly is an idiot and likes to pretend that he has a chance of breaking through the ten layers of trauma Caleb wears like a second skin to find the person underneath and convince him he’s worth something, he takes a minute to appreciate the view.

*matryoshka - immediate fixit after molly’s death, which rules. molly’s ghost gets to carpool in caleb’s body before they rez him. i think this scenario was written enjoyably but with appropriate weight as well, which could be very hard to find. pre-relationship, which i always enjoy - i love me some people meandering towards feelings. it also has some very interesting lucien theory tidbits sprinkled in, which i enjoy.

*cat magnet - molly gets turned into a cat for a hot minute and cuddles up to caleb. short and fun and not weird (thank goodness).

*devil’s tongue - i’m always a bit bashful/hesitant about reccing explicit stuff, but this one has such excellent and caring characterization that i feel correct in putting it on this list. the best explicit ship fics always have an element of knowing that the characters aren’t losing their personalities once they get in bed, and this one has both characters as like. people. the d/s stuff does not overwhelm the characters or the fic and is very light - you see that these are real people in an equal relationship trying to help each other feel good (and i’m a judgmental bastard about fic, so you can take my word on this). AND it has some linguistic stuff about infernal as the actual plot, which i can be a sucker for.

*a thin line - molly gets injured, caleb sews him up, they dance around a conversation before actually Talking About Stuff and becoming closer. excellently written h/c. this is an early wdmk fic, but actually writes the characters pretty well in hindsight! op rules. it’s interesting to see what the author manages to get right, and the backstory elements they made up are still engaging and consistent for the molly & caleb they have written.

*heartfrost - molly lives au, taking place around ep 72. molly is resistant to fire, so he’s vulnerable to cold. he has a bad time with that, and with grieving for yasha as well. caleb takes care of him. this was just sweet h/c whump, and reading molly getting his feelings validated by caleb was *kisses fingers* very good.

*limerence - caleb accidentally casts a spell that makes everyone who sees him fall in love with him - except the party lesbians and… molly, for some reason. isn’t it strange that a love spell doesn’t alter molly’s behavior towards caleb??? synopsis aside - i really enjoy how this fic took the fact that molly canonically wouldn’t pursue caleb because he sees caleb isn’t in a good place to have that; molly’s respect for consent with regards to relationships shines through here and agh i love him. also, i am beau in this fic.

**VWOOP! (every time a bell rings, a tiefling gets their wings) - a really interesting take on the soulmate au involving true name stuff (the author has some notes at the end about “true names” which made me :) about the concept in terms of identity and meaning, so dw about deadname snarls yk). wings! soulmates! friends with benefits that accidentally evolve into feelings!

**the fool, reversed - i’m a hack who loves to see molly slotted into present canon just for fun. this one has him being abducted with yasha by obann, and in dealing with the trauma afterward accidentally discovering his incorporeality bloodhunter powers. good stuff.

**the skin beneath the facade - this one is so self indulgent and i love it. fake dating at a fancy party! kissing! POISON! A CAT! fun fun fun read.

WIPs that i am subscribed to and really enjoy, and are good reads already: 

the prophet of tortham - LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS ONE… god i just love it. molly scrambling to be the best scammer he can and rolling miracuously well, while trying to solve a mystery! very perceptive caleb and perfectly slow burn widomauk. it’s an au where molly pretends to be an actual fortuneteller to a lord that the rest of the m9 work for. i’ve been adoring this one so far, such a great molly.

there’s a ghost in my lungs - vague future canon! the m9 finds molly again, but the empire put a bunch of stuff in his head and the gang seeks to cure him, all while getting tangled up in a town plot and festivals. very good widomauk pining. side note: the “winter soldier au” tag has nothing to do with marvel at all besides the basic premise of what’s up with molly, but for the vast majority of the fic he is himself (changed somewhat after what he’s gone through, but his wonderful self). i’ve been keeping up with this one for a long time and i’ve been loving it.

Caleb blinks, as if coming out of a Frumpkin trance. Beau knows better, though, she’s seen him staring at Molly like Molly’s a lighthouse in the dark, and he’s a man paddling desperately back to shore.

we circle by night - a far-flung-future caleb travels back in time and accidentally averts molly’s death! and there’s a splintered timeline. slow burn widomauk starts kindling but caleb’s dealing with uh… pretending he’s not an older and higher-level wizard inside a canon age caleb body. VERY good. love it.

fractured moonlight on the sea - molly is a selkie and doesn’t know it!! i looooooove this so far and can’t wait for more, this is such good like… pining for stuff you don’t know, romantically and sealwise.

map to alexandria - modern music au! very good writing of like. human emotions. very good relationship themes. this is my good buddy mauve @phantomsteed‘s fave fic!

the gay and wondrous life of caleb widogast - this is a modern with magic childhood friends road trip au! it is also fjollygast, and i really enjoyed it. extremely good and well-written pining and relationship drama, that luckily has been resolved. from what i’ve detectived, it seems like it’s been put on permanent hiatus after canon has diverged a lot from what the author was working from. but it stopped at a very good point and is a fave. extremely delicious pining.

wilderswans’ 30 day nsfw challenge - this is such a great series with a lot of character work and like… stuff about intimacy and it’s really good and tender! early relationship. really sweet and well-written!

**the names that make us - soulmate au! with twists and turns. starts out as bren/lucien and will become caleb/molly. looking forward to it.

molly focused:

true north - molly and yasha relationship stuff… i love them. platonic soulmates. a grand adventure!

visions in lightning, voices in thunder - yasha and molly again, but this time more of a snapshot. implied wm and by. yasha’s aasimarness interacts with ukatoa’s dreams in a nasty and cool way. this one has a line that alwaaaaaays gets me right in the gut

“I’d keep an eye on him, if I were you. There’s still some sharp edges to him.”

Molly chuckled. “I’m well acquainted with sharp edges.”

Yes, and you cut yourself on them all the time, Yasha thought to herself. If he cuts you, will you bleed for him?

also if you haven’t… you should read my high school au oneshot where beau and molly are siblings ;) if you want some numbers to back my self promotion it is the 9th highest kudos’d wm fic on ao3 atm… AND it’s a oneshot. blue gatorade rights

OH and as an edit: here’s my more serious in tone wdmk fic, canticle. it is very good and self indulgent. molly character study and repressed pining. ep 25/6 divergent au, as one does. inspired by twisters chasing storms, recced above.

[gnosismacedonia]

10 POWERFUL PRAYERS BY THE EARLY CHURCH FATHERS

Prayer to God the Father – St Clement of Rome (1st century -101 AD)

We beseech You, Master, to be our helper and protector.

Save the afflicted among us; have mercy on the lowly;

Raise up the fallen; appear to the needy; heal the ungodly;

Restore the wanderers of Your people;

Feed the hungry; ransom our prisoners;

Raise up the sick; comfort the faint-hearted.

St Clement of Rome, 1st century-101 AD

Singing to the Father – St Ignatius of Antioch (35-108 AD)

And you have all been formed into one choir, to…sing God’s song together and praise the father with one voice through Jesus Christ, that when he hears you he may realize from what you have done so well that you are of his Son’s members.

St Ignatius of Antioch, 35-108 AD

Prayer to God the Father – St Irenaeus of Lyons (130-202 AD)

I appeal to you, Lord, God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob and Israel, You the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Infinitely merciful as You are, it is Your will that we should learn to know You. You made heaven and earth, You rule supreme over all that is. You are the true, the only God; there is no other god above You.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ…and the gifts of the Holy Spirit, grant that all who read what I have written here may know You, because You alone are God; let them draw strength from You; keep them from all teaching that is heretical, irreligious or godless.

St Irenaeus of Lyons, 130-202 AD

Prayer to the Divine Tutor – St Clement of Alexandria (150-215)

Be kind to Your little children, Lord; that is what we ask of You as their Tutor, You the Father, Israel’s guide; Son, yes, but Father as well. Grant that by doing what You told us to do, we may achieve a faithful likeness to the Image and, as far as is possible for us, may find in You a good God and a lenient Judge.

May we all live in the peace that comes from You. May we journey towards Your city, sailing through the waters of sin untouched by the waves, borne tranquilly along by the Holy Spirit, Your Wisdom beyond all telling. Night and day until the last day of all, may our praises give You thanks, our thanksgiving praise You: You who alone are both Father and Son, Son and Father, the Son who is our Tutor and our Teacher, together with the Holy Spirit.

St Clement of Alexandria, 150-215 AD

Prayer for Peace of Mind – Origen (184-253 AD)

Let us pray that Jesus may reign over us and that our land may be at peace-i.e., that our bodies may be free from the assaults of fleshly desires. When these have ceased, we shall be able to rest, beneath our vines, our fig-trees and our olives.

Father, Son and Holy Spirit will shelter us as we rest, our peace of mind and body once recovered.

Glory to God the eternal, age after age. Amen.

Origen, 184-253 AD

Prayer for Peace – St Cyprian of Carthage (210-258 AD)

We beg and beseech the God whom the enemies of the Church are forever provoking and irritating that he would tame their wild hearts. May their rage subside and calm return to their hearts; may their minds, clouded by the darkness their sins produce, repent and see the light; may they seek the bishop’s prayers and not his blood.

St Cyprian of Carthage, 210-258 AD

Prayer to God the Holy Trinity – St Basil the Great (330-379 AD)

As I rise from sleep I thank You, O Holy Trinity, for through Your great goodness and patience You were not angered with me, an idler and sinner, nor have You destroyed me in my sins, but have shown Your usual love for men, and when I was prostrate in despair, You raised me to keep the morning watch and to glorify Your power. And now enlighten my mind’s eye and open my mouth to study Your words and understand Your commandments and do Your will and sing to You in heartfelt adoration and praise Your Most Holy Name of Father, Son and Holy Spirit, now and ever, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

St Basil the Great, 330-379 AD

Prayer to God the Father – St Macarius the Great (300-391 AD)

O Eternal God and King of all creation, who has granted me to arrive at this hour, forgive me the sins that I have committed today in thought, word and deed, and cleanse, O Lord, my humble soul from all defilement of flesh and spirit. And grant me, O Lord, to pass the sleep of this night in peace, that when I rise from my bed I may please Your most holy Name all the days of my life and conquer my flesh and the fleshless foes that war with me. And deliver me, O Lord, from vain and frivolous thoughts, and from evil desires which defile me. For Yours is the kingdom, the power and the glory of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, now and ever, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

St Macarius the Great, 300-391 AD

Prayer to God the Father – St Ambrose of Milan (337-397 AD)

O Lord, who has mercy upon all, take away from me my sins,

and mercifully kindle in me the fire of Your Holy Spirit.

Take away from me the heart of stone,

and give me a heart of flesh,

a heart to love and adore You,

a heart to delight in You,

to follow and to enjoy You,

for Christ’s sake.

St Ambrose of Milan, 337-397 AD

Supplicatory prayers corresponding to 24 hours of the day – St John Chrysostom (344-407 AD)

 Day

Lord, deprive me not of Your heavenly joys. Lord, deliver me from eternal torments. Lord, if I have sinned in mind or thought, in word or deed, forgive me. Lord, deliver me from all ignorance, forgetfulness, cowardice and stony insensibility. Lord, deliver me from every temptation. Lord, enlighten my heart which evil desires have darkened. Lord, I being human have sinned, but You being the generous God, have mercy on me, knowing the sickness of my soul. Lord, send Your grace to my help, that I may glorify Your holy Name. Lord Jesus Christ, write me Your servant in the Book of Life, and grant me a good end. O Lord my God, even though I have done nothing good in Your sight, yet grant me by Your grace to make a good start. Lord, sprinkle into my heart the dew of Your grace. Lord of heaven and earth remember me, Your sinful servant, shameful and unclean, in Your Kingdom. Amen.

Night

O Lord, accept me in penitence. O Lord, leave me not. O Lord, lead me not into temptation. O Lord, grant me good thoughts. O Lord, grant me tears and remembrance of death and compunction. O Lord, grant me the thought of confessing my sins. O Lord, grant me humility, chastity and obedience. O Lord, grant me patience, courage and meekness. O Lord, plant in me the root of all blessings, the fear of You in my heart. O Lord, grant me to love You with all my mind and soul, and always to do Your will. O Lord, protect me from certain people, and demons, and passions, and from every other harmful thing. O Lord, You know that You act as You will; may Your will be also in me, a sinner, for blessed art You forever. Amen

[almostafantasia]

The Doctor and the Mercenary

Being a mercenary is a dangerous line of work. When one of Lexa’s assignments goes horribly wrong and she ends up with an arrow in her shoulder, a twist of fate brings her to the door of a pretty Athenian doctor. After that, Lexa doesn’t mind getting injured quite so much.

A Clexa Assassin’s Creed Odyssey AU.

Clexa Week 2019 Day 7 - Free Choice

Read on AO3.

The armoured woman falls off her horse when Clarke is out running an errand, landing in a haphazard heap at Lexa’s feet. Clarke inspects the woman carefully, noting that she is bloodsoaked and smelling oddly of gunpowder and - wait, is that an arrow sticking out of her shoulder?

Oddly, in a city stricken by a war being fought between two sides that aren’t unopposed to dangerous and underhand tactics, it’s not the weirdest thing that Clarke has seen on the streets of Athens.

The injured mercenary lays on the cobbled street for long enough that Clarke wonders if she is a woman or a corpse, but eventually her arm twitches and she lets out a rasping breath.

“I’m fine,” croaks the mercenary, though she makes no attempt to move from the ground. Her horse has long since disappeared, bolting from the scene after the rider fell from its back.

“We have very different definitions of the word fine,” comments Clarke drily.

She peers down at the body at her feet, the healer within her searching for serious injuries. The arrow embedded in the mercenary’s upper arm, just below her leather pauldron, seems to be doing a pretty good job of plugging that particular wound, so Clarke suspects that the vast majority of the blood has come from elsewhere. Clarke immediately worries that there is a much deeper wound that she can’t see, perhaps inflicted by a blade.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” says the mercenary, as if sensing Clarke’s thoughts. “Most of it isn’t my blood.”

“And the arrow?” asks Clarke.

The woman’s other hand comes up to gently touch her shoulder, and she lets out a hiss of pain as her hand drops back to her side.

“That bit is as bad as it looks,” she admits.

“Lucky for you,” says Clarke, crouching down at the mercenary’s side, “I’m a healer.”

“I don’t need help,” the mercenary says brusquely.

Clarke considers the injured woman for a moment, bruised and burned and blood-soaked, quite clearly in need of medical intervention, but decides that it’s not worth pressing. If the mercenary is stupid enough to reject the help of a physician, that isn’t Clarke’s problem. There are plenty of other people in Athens who need a doctor too.

“Then I’ll be on my way,” says Clarke, straightening up and starting to walk.

She takes only two steps before the mercenary’s voice croaks out once more.

“Wait. I might need help.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. She’s encountered mercenaries before - had them stumbling (or on one occasion, unconsciously carried) through her door with various wounds that need treating - and from her experience they are all the same; arrogant, oftentimes rude, and always selfish. It seems that this one is no different to the rest.

“I can’t carry you,” Clarke tells the mercenary, offering out a hand, which the woman grasps firmly and uses to bring herself first into a seated position, then onto unsteady feet. “I hope you can walk better than you can ride a horse.”

“He was spooked by the arrows,” explains the mercenary, as if it the obvious explanation.

Clarke loops one of her arms around the woman’s waist, wincing as she feels the sticky blood soak into her pale blue tunic. The mercenary drapes a grateful arm over Clarke’s shoulders and they steadily start to walk - or hobble - back in the direction of Clarke’s house, where her medical supplies wait.

“I’m Clarke, by the way.”

“My name is Alexandria,” says the mercenary, “but most people call me Lexa.”

“Lexa,” says Clarke, testing the name out. “That’s a beautiful name, for a soldier.”

“I am not a soldier,” retorts Lexa. “Soldiers fight for armies. I fight only for myself.”

“And for the people willing to part with the most drachmae,” comments Clarke.

Lexa lets out a soft laugh, which is quickly followed by a hiss of pain.

“Are you alright?” Clarke asks her in concern, steering Lexa around the final corner to her house.

“Just a little winded,” answers Lexa. “I got thrown off the back of a horse, in case you missed it.”

“I see that your sense of humour is still in tact.” Clarke helps Lexa up a few steps and then pushes open the door to her house, supporting Lexa as she limps inside, then says, “Let’s see if you’re still laughing when I remove the arrow.”

Lexa stiffens visibly, and though Clarke can’t see her face for the helmet that she still wears, Clarke would bet drachmae that there’s a worried expression on her face.

“I’m going to need you to remove some of your armour,” explains Clarke, who can barely even see where the tip of the arrow has pierced Lexa’s flesh, for the leather pauldron that half-conceals it.

With the hand of her uninjured arm, Lexa reaches up and removes her plumed helmet. It’s an awkward manoeuvre with the use of only one hand, but she manages it and carefully places the gilded headpiece out of the way on the floor. When Lexa straightens up into an upright position again, Clarke gets a proper look at her patient’s face for the first time.

She’s … well, she’s not at all what Clarke is expecting. Lexa has an elegant sort of beauty that Clarke wouldn’t imagine a mercenary to have. Sure, there are clear signs that this woman is a warrior - aside from the blood spattered across one side of her neck, Lexa has a scar on one cheek, faded and telling a story from years ago, and she wears a determined look in her eyes. But there’s also a softness, full lips and the sweep of a delicate jawline and soft brown hair pushed back into loose braids. Lexa is overt femininity masked behind the armour of a mercenary.

“Why are you staring?” asks Lexa, a frown hardening her pretty features. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Just a little blood,” Clarke is quick to answer, covering up her real reason for staring.

Lexa seems to think it an acceptable answer because she drops her questioning, instead gesturing down to the arrow still embedded in her shoulder as she says, “I might need a little help with the rest.”

Lexa turns around and shows her back to Clarke, where there are a couple of leather buckles holding the breastplate on. Clarke supposes that they would be reachable, if a little awkwardly, if the wearer has two good arms, but she is more than happy to help Lexa out of the heavy armour. She undoes the buckles with fingers that are dexterous from years of treating patients alongside her mother, then lifts the breastplate away from Lexa’s body. Clarke is careful not to touch the arrow in her shoulder, and then sets it aside next to the helmet.

It’s a lot of skin to be faced with all at once. And yes, Clarke has seen skin before, both while treating patients and in other more intimate capacities, but it still takes Clarke by surprise. Lexa’s skin is lighter where it has been underneath the armour, exposed to less sun than her face and arms. Without the armour, Clarke is able to see (and appreciate) what makes this woman a mercenary, with clearly defined muscles across her shoulders and back. A back which bears an ornate tattoo the length of her spine, broken up only by the cloth bindings that wraps around Lexa’s upper chest.

Clarke’s mouth goes very dry.

“Why don’t you lie down for me?” croaks Clarke, gesturing to the bed in the corner that she uses to treat her patients, in the hope that by focusing all her attention on the removal of the arrow and cleaning up the rest of Lexa’s wounds, she will be able to ignore how objectively attractive the mercenary is.

Oh how wrong Clarke is.

Because when Lexa sits, then lies down on the bed, it may hide the rippling muscles of her back, but now Clarke can see Lexa’s front, a truly glorious abdomen that Clarke finds it very difficult not to get lost while staring at.

It is a hiss of pain as Lexa lies down, that finally brings Clarke’s attention back to the task at hand. She steps up to Lexa’s side and examines the arrow, trying to work out how deep the head has gone.

“You’re lucky the arrow hit you where it did,” says Clarke, wrapping both hands around the wooden shaft of the arrow. “This might cause some discomfort.

Clarke doesn’t give Lexa any more warning about what she is about to do, and snaps the shaft of the arrow clean into two pieces, leaving a short stub sticking out of Lexa’s upper arm. Lexa lets out a cry of pain as the action causes the head of the arrow to shift inside her, but it gives Clarke an easier working space.

“Lucky?” hisses Lexa, her eyes closed and her face contorted into a grimace.

“It hit no major organs,” explains Clarke. “Just flesh. And if it had been much higher, it would have pierced your neck. I doubt you would have lived long enough to climb onto a horse if that had happened.”

With the splintered tail of the arrow in her hand, Clarke examines it and recognises by the distinctive plume of feathers belonging to the Athenian army, and knows that it must have been fired from the bow of an Athenian soldier.

“Tell me, Lexa, how does somebody end up in this state?” asks Clarke, discarding the tail of the arrow.

Lexa opens her eyes and looks at Clarke, then admits, “I set fire to an Athenian barracks.”

Well that explains the smell of gunpowder and the blistering burns on the mercenary’s arm.

“Of course you did,” sighs Clarke, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head in disapproval.

Clarke turns around and adds some kindling to the small fire that burns beneath a heavy black pot. The orange flames lick around the new wood, growing in size, and Clarke carefully sets up a metal rod so that one of its tips sits in the flames.

“The arrowhead isn’t too deep,” Clarke explains, returning her attention to Lexa. “I should be able to enlarge the entry wound and pull it out, but I’ll have to close the wound with heat to stop the bleeding. It’ll hurt.”

Lexa grimaces, but replies, “So did getting shot.”

Clarke reaches for a sharp surgical knife and sharpens it on a strip of leather until she is satisfied.

“Are you ready?”

Lexa takes one look at the blade in Clarke’s hand and pales, then glances away quickly and says, “No, but do it anyway.”

Clarke smiles to herself at the thought of the brave mercenary, who must have seen her fair share of blood and taken who knows how many lives, getting pale and squeamish at the thought of a doctor removing an arrowhead embedded in her flesh. Clarke acts quickly, making an incision across the wound where the splintered arrow shaft emerges from Lexa’s shoulder. Once happy, Clarke sets the knife aside and then gets to work removing the arrowhead. Lexa hisses with pain as Clarke presses a firm hand to the wound, then lets out a yelp as the fingers of Clarke’s other hand dip into the wound and tug the arrowhead from her shoulder.

“All gone,” says Clarke, covering the wound with both hands and applying enough pressure to stem the bleeding. “Though I need to cauterise the wound. Do you know what that means?”

Lifting up her head, Lexa’s eyes flit across to where the tip of the metal rod sits in the open flame. Clarke watches as the pain in her eyes momentarily transforms into fear, but the look is gone in an instant as Lexa clenches her jaw and looks at Clarke again, nodding abruptly.

“I’m going to give you something to bite down on,” says Clarke, lifting one of her hands and reaching out for a strip of cloth, which she passes across to Lexa. “Push your tongue back and put this in your mouth.”

Lexa does as she is asked, then squeezes her eyes shut in anticipation of the pain. Clarke decides not to waste any time and relinquishes the pressure on Lexa’s wound only for long enough to take a second piece of cloth and use it to protect her hand from burns as she lifts the hot poker out of the flame. She uses precision to lower the orange tip of the rod to Lexa’s shoulder, watching the skin sizzle as the hot metal comes into contact. Lexa lets out a scream that is muffled by the gag in her mouth, and Clarke grimaces in sympathy at the extra pain she’s causing Lexa.

It takes a few touches of the poker before Clarke is convinced that the wound is properly closed. Once done, she drops the poker into the bucket of cold water, which hisses and steams violently as the hot metal hits it with a splash. Clarke quickly reaches for another rag and dips it in the water, soaking it and then wringing it out.

“There you go,” says Clarke, as she drapes the now damp rag across the cauterised wound to soothe the burn. “I think I’ve earned an explanation. Why are you burning down a barracks?”

Lexa gingerly pushes herself up into a seated position, then answers, “Why does anybody do anything?” When Clarke states at her blankly, Lexa explains, “Drachmae.”

Clarke shakes her head and says, “That’s not the only thing that motivates people.”

“Oh really?” Lexa arches an eyebrow at Clarke. “What else?”

Clarke doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she reaches for a second piece of cloth and dips that too in the water, before she uses it to wipe away the dried blood and filth that covers Lexa’s skin. The grime comes away easily, revealing tanned skin underneath.

“Lots of things,” answers Clarke, as she continues to clean Lexa. “Power. Love. Though some would say that those are the same.”

“Love is not power,” snorts Lexa, shaking her head in disagreement. “Love is weakness.”

Clarke arches an eyebrow at this and wonders what experiences Lexa must have had in her life to reach that abrupt conclusion.

“Love is a strength if it’s used in the right way.”

“Sex is power,” counters Lexa, the corners of her mouth turning up into a wry smile. “Or giving up power.”

Lexa’s eyes are darker and watch Clarke with a hint of suggestion in her green irises. Clarke glances away and applies herself to scrubbing the filth from Lexa’s left calf. The skin below isn’t unblemished, the dirt coming away to reveal bruises and cuts underneath. Some of them are fresh, perhaps from falling off the horse or the escapades inside the barracks shortly before, but others must be from previous incidents - bruises that are fading yellow and scratches that have scabbed over or even transformed into scars that are barely noticeable against Lexa’s skin.

The fact that Clarke is examining Lexa’s skin in such close detail in order to avoid a conversation about sex doesn’t go unnoticed by Clarke, and she feels the heat rise to her cheeks, which Lexa picks up on too.

“Does that fluster you?” teases Lexa. “Giving up power in such an intimate way?”

“Maybe I like having the power,” Clarke replies without thinking. She pauses in her work and glances up at Lexa to gauge her reaction, only to find Lexa’s eyes full of surprise. Clarke laughs to herself, then adds, “Now look who is lost for words.”

Clarke switches to Lexa’s other leg and gives it the same treatment, cleaning it of the blood, most of which doesn’t seem to have come from any of Lexa’s own wounds. Clarke isn’t sure if she’s relieved at that discovery, glad that Lexa’s injuries are limited to the arrow that was embedded in her shoulder and a few small cuts, or if she’s alarmed at the realisation that the blood has most likely come from an opponent who has fared less well in combat with Lexa.

“You should take it easy for a while,” Clarke tells Lexa, dipping the rag back in the bucket of water to cleanse it of the filth, then wrings it out so that she can continue to clean Lexa’s legs. “No more arson until I say so.”

“But murder is okay?”

“No,” laughs Clarke. “Murder is not okay. No arson or murder.”

“My life is more than just arson and murder.” Lexa pauses for a moment, then concedes, “I mean, it’s mostly arson and murder, but sometimes it’s other things too.”

“What’s the strangest thing somebody has ever paid you to do?”

Lexa frowns thoughtfully, then answers, “A man once paid me to seduce his own wife.”

Clarke chokes on her own tongue, and it takes her a few moments to recompose herself after that particular revelation.

“Okay, explain?”

“He thought she was passing information to his enemies so he hired me to get close to her and spy,” Lexa tells her. “And maybe his definition of “get close to her” and mine are a little different, but you can’t choose what your heart wants.”

“No, you can’t,” agrees Clarke. Eager to change the subject, Clarke drops the filthy rag aside and says, “I’m finished.”

Lexa swings her legs over the side of her bed and reaches for the little pouch attached to her belt, which jingles with coinsas she loosens the strings that hold it closed.

“How much do you want?” asks Lexa.

Clarke shakes her head and answers, “I’m not going to take your drachmae.”

A frown crosses Lexa’s face and she glances up at Clarke, searching Clarke’s face for an explanation.

“You … you want me to pay you in other ways?” Lexa asks, speaking slowly as if asking for clarification.

“No,” Clarke replies. “Consider it a gesture of kindness.”

Still unconvinced, Lexa asks, “What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch,” shrugs Clarke. A thought crosses her mind and Clarke grins at Lexa as she adds, “But don’t think you can go and injure yourself all the time and expect me to heal you for free. Next time, you pay.”

“Next time?” asks Lexa, eyes widening in hope.

“You’re not the first misthios to come through my door,” says Clarke, getting to her feet and picking up Lexa’s discarded breastplate. “I know what your kind is like. Danger and injury seem to run side by side.”

Lexa accepts her armour from Clarke and puts it on, turning around to let Clarke help her to buckle the straps that hold the breastplate in place. Once secure, Lexa bends and picks up her helmet, tucking it neatly under one arm.

“Thank you, Clarke,” says Lexa.

With the hand not holding her helmet, Lexa reaches for Clarke’s fingers and lifts Clarke’s hand up to her lips, placing a delicate kiss to the back of Clarke’s hand. The gesture sends a shiver down Clarke’s spine as Lexa’s lips brush ever so softly against her skin.

“I hope our paths cross again,” continues Lexa.

“Don’t go injuring yourself on purpose,” jokes Clarke, attempting to calm her beating heart down with laughter.

Lexa’s eyes sparkle, as she replies, “I might just have to.”

[bountyofbeads]

AOC decries 'violent culture' exposed in secret Border Patrol Facebook group

https://news.yahoo.com/alexandria-ocasio-cortez-border-patrol-violent-culture-171703682.html

AOC Decries 'Violent Culture ' Exposed In Secret Border Patrol Facebook Group

By Christopher Wilson | Published July 1, 2019 1:17 PM ET | Yahoo News| Posted July 1, 2019 |

Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez sharply criticized the “violent culture” of U.S. Border Patrol agents Monday after a new report exposed a Facebook group where current and former agents joked about migrant deaths and posted sexist images of the New York Democrat.

On Monday, ProPublica published messages from a Facebook group of roughly 9,500 Border Patrol agents named “I’m 10-15,” a reference to the agency’s code for “aliens in custody.” Among the messages were jokes about a 16-year-old Guatemalan migrant who died in Border Patrol custody in May and sexist references to Ocasio-Cortez, including illustrations of her performing oral sex on migrants and President Trump.

The group, Ocasio-Cortez said, also suggested raising money for an agent to throw a burrito at her and Rep. Veronica Escobar, a Democrat who represents the El Paso, Texas, area. The two freshmen congresswomen were among a delegation visiting the border on Monday.

“This just broke: a secret Facebook group of 9,500 CBP [Customs and Border Protection] officers discussed making a GoFundMe for officers to harm myself & Rep. Escobar during our visit to CBP facilities & mocked migrant deaths,” wrote Ocasio-Cortez on Twitter, linking to the story. “This isn’t about ‘a few bad eggs.’ This is a violent culture.”

“9,500 CBP officers sharing memes about dead migrants and discussing violence and sexual misconduct towards members of Congress,” added Ocasio-Cortez. “How on earth can CBP’s culture be trusted to care for refugees humanely? PS I have no plans to change my itinerary & will visit the CBP station today.”

In May, the Arizona Daily Star reported that a Border Patrol agent who is accused of knocking down a Guatemalan man with his vehicle allegedly sent text messages that included referring to migrants as “disgusting subhuman s--- unworthy of being kindling for a fire” and asking the White House “PLEASE let us take the gloves off trump!”

Ocasio-Cortez repeatedly made the point Monday that the views expressed by members of the secret Facebook group were indicative of a larger problem at CBP, which oversees the Border Patrol.

“There are 20,000 TOTAL Customs & Border Patrol agents in the US. 9,500 - almost HALF that number - are in a racist & sexually violent secret CBP Facebook group,” Ocasio-Cortez tweeted. “They’re threatening violence on members of Congress. How do you think they’re treating caged children+families?”

Conditions at the border detention camps have continued to draw scrutiny. On Monday, NBC News reported that a Department of Homeland Security document revealed that agents were arming themselves out of fear of riots because the conditions were so bad. Over the weekend,  a federal judge ordered that doctors be allowed into child migrant camps in order to ensure they were “safe and sanitary” after multiple reports of young migrants being unable to shower, brush their teeth or wash their hands. Acting CBP chief John Sanders announced last week he was resigning, making no mention of the conditions at the facilities.

“It just felt, you know, lawless,” Dolly Lucio Sevier, a doctor who visited the centers, said in an interview with ABC News last week. “I mean, imagine your own children there. I can’t imagine my child being there and not being broken.”

In a call last week, a CBP official disputed the critical accounts and said the children housed there were given periodic access to showers and unlimited snacks.

“I personally don’t believe these allegations,” said the CBP official, who spoke on the condition he not be identified, according to the New York Times.

[dfroza]

standing in this faith (of the Son) will definitely go against what some people think and believe in this world.

and all that we now face here is temporal in nature, for the truest nature of things is the eternal.

and we are meant to stand, to have courage and to “believe...” by conserving the True message of grace and rebirth which is a form of bravery that also includes gentleness, kindness, forgiveness, grace, and humility. but we certainly don’t have to compromise our faith and hope in Love’s sacred truth just because others may disagree.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 18th chapter of the book of Acts where Paul continues to share his message in the face of opposition, and yet there were some who were persuaded to receive it by believing and being baptized. Paul even had a dream with the Lord speaking to him to keep sharing without fear:

From Athens, Paul traveled to Corinth alone. He found a Jewish man there named Aquila, originally from Pontus. Aquila and his wife Priscilla had recently come to Corinth from Italy because Claudius had banished all Jews from Rome. Paul visited them in their home and discovered they shared the same trade of tent making. He then became their long-term guest and joined them in their tentmaking business. Each Sabbath he would engage both Jews and Greeks in debate in the synagogue in an attempt to persuade them of his message. Eventually Silas and Timothy left Macedonia and joined him in Corinth. They found him fully occupied by proclaiming the message, testifying to the Jewish people that Jesus was God’s Anointed, the Liberating King. Eventually, though, some of them stopped listening and began insulting him. He shook the dust off his garments in protest.

Paul: OK. I’ve done all I can for you. You are responsible for your own destiny before God. From now on, I will bring the good news to the outsiders!

He walked out of the synagogue and went next door to the home of an outsider, Titius Justus, who worshiped God. Paul formed a gathering of believers there that included Crispus (the synagogue leader) and his whole household and many other Corinthians who heard Paul, believed, and were ceremonially washed through baptism. One night Paul had a vision in which he heard the Lord’s voice.

The Lord: Do not be afraid, Paul. Speak! Don’t be silent! I am with you, and no one will lay a finger on you to harm you. I have many in this city who are already My people.

After such turmoil in previous cities, these words encouraged Paul to extend his stay in Corinth, teaching the message of God among them for a year and six months.

During this time, some Jews organized an attack on Paul and made formal charges against him to Gallio, the proconsul of Achaia.

Jews: This man is convincing people to worship God in ways that contradict our Hebrew Scriptures.

Paul was about to speak, but Gallio spoke first.

Gallio: Look, if this were some serious crime, I would accept your complaint as a legitimate legal case, but this is just more of your typical Jewish squabbling about trivialities in your sacred literature. I have no interest in getting dragged into this kind of thing.

So he threw out their case and drove them away from his bench. They were furious and seized Sosthenes, the synagogue official; then they beat him in front of the tribunal. Gallio just ignored them.

At the end of 18 months, Paul said good-bye to the believers in Corinth. He wanted to travel to the east and south to Syria by ship; so, accompanied by Priscilla and Aquila, he went to the nearby port city of Cenchrea, where he fulfilled a vow he had made by cutting his hair. The three of them sailed east to Ephesus where Paul would leave Priscilla and Aquila. Paul again went to the synagogue where he dialogued with the Jews. They were receptive and invited him to stay longer. But he politely declined.

Paul: If God wills, I’ll return at some point.

He caught a ship bound south and east for Caesarea by the sea. There he went up for a brief visit with the believers in the church at Jerusalem; then he headed north to Antioch. He spent considerable time there and then left again, visiting city after city throughout Galatia and Phrygia, strengthening the disciples in each place.

Meanwhile, back in Ephesus, a Jew named Apollos made contact with the community of believers. He had been raised in Alexandria.

Apollos was eloquent and well educated in the Hebrew Scriptures. He was partially instructed in the way of the Lord, and he added to his native eloquence a burning enthusiasm to teach about Jesus. He taught accurately what he knew; but he had only understood part of the good news, specifically the ritual cleansing through baptism preached by John, the forerunner of Jesus. So, when Priscilla and Aquila heard him speak boldly in the synagogue, they discerned both his gift and his lack of full understanding. They took him aside and in private explained the way of God to him more accurately and fully. He wanted to head west into Achaia, where Paul had recently been, to preach there. The believers encouraged him to do so and sent a letter instructing the Greek disciples to welcome him. Upon his arrival, he was of great help to all in Achaia who had, by the grace of God, become believers. This gifted speaker publicly demonstrated, based on the Hebrew Scriptures, that the promised Anointed One is Jesus. Then, when the Jews there raised counterarguments, he refuted them with great power.

The Book of Acts, Chapter 18 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 9th chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that points to the birth of the Son known as the Prince of Peace:

But there will be no more gloom for those who knew such hardship. In times past, God humbled the land of Zebulun and Naphtali; later, He will restore the honor and glory to the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee, home of the nations.

The people who had been living in darkness

have seen a great light.

The light of life has shined on those who dwelt

in the shadowy darkness of death.

And You, God, will make it happen. You bolstered the nation,

making it great again. You have saturated it with joy.

Everyone in it is full of delight in Your presence,

like the joy they experience at the harvest,

like the thrill of dividing up the spoils of war.

For as You did back in the day when Midian oppressed us,

You will shatter the yoke that burdens them,

You will lift the load that weighs them down,

You will break the rod of their oppressor.

It’s true. All the fabric of war will go up in flames:

the troops’ heavy boots that stamped us down and their blood-soaked garb

Will all be burned beyond recognition or use.

There will be a new time, a fresh start.

Hope of all hopes, dream of our dreams,

a child is born, sweet-breathed; a son is given to us: a living gift.

And even now, with tiny features and dewy hair, He is great.

The power of leadership, and the weight of authority, will rest on His shoulders.

His name? His name we’ll know in many ways—

He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

Dear Father everlasting, ever-present never-failing,

Master of Wholeness, Prince of Peace.

His leadership will bring such prosperity as you’ve never seen before—

sustainable peace for all time.

This child: God’s promise to David—a throne forever, among us,

to restore sound leadership that cannot be perverted or shaken.

He will ensure justice without fail and absolute equity. Always.

The intense passion of the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies,

will carry this to completion.

The Lord has dispatched a word against Jacob;

it will come down hard on Israel.

All the people of Ephraim and the citizens of its capital Samaria will know.

In their pride and arrogance they say:

“Hey! The walls have collapsed, but this gives us a chance to rebuild

better than it was before with the best stones instead of brick.

The invaders may have chopped down the sycamores,

but we will plant cedars in their place.”

But the Eternal stirs up Rezin’s enemies to move against Israel

and arouses all their foes to join them.

They come, these enemies, from both sides (Syrians on the east and Philistines on the west)

and consume Israel, swallowing it whole.

Still, God’s anger smolders.

His hand is raised; there’s more to come.

But the people don’t return to God after all His punishment.

They don’t change their ways and right their paths

To seek the Eternal, the Commander of heavenly armies.

Therefore, He will take them to task.

In a single day He’ll cut off from Israel the head and the tail;

He’ll cut down the noble palm and lowly reed.

The head are those charged with leadership—political and religious—

who used their power in the worst possible ways;

And the tail are the prophets who slur their lies.

These misguided leaders have misled this people;

and those who follow have become swallowed up in their deceit.

Even now the Lord takes no joy in a single one, not even the young.

Mercy has run out for even those without power—the widows and orphans.

For every single person is at fault and behaves badly.

No one thinks or acts as God would have them do.

Every mouth utters foolishness like a wildfire, out of control;

wickedness rages, leveling and clearing briars and thorns;

Forests and thickets burn, leaving the whole a smoking heap.

Still, God’s anger smolders. His hand is raised; there’s more to come.

The Eternal, the Commander of heavenly armies,

sets our world on fire in His fury.

The rotten people become kindling for the fire,

turning against one another until no one is spared.

They slice off what’s on the right and are still hungry;

they eat what’s on the left and still aren’t satisfied.

And in their voracity, they consume their own.

Manasseh and Ephraim devour each other

and turn their covetous eye south, toward Judah.

Still, God’s anger smolders. His hand is raised; there’s more to come.

The Book of Isaiah, Chapter 9 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, june 17 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons that looks at the significance of forgiveness:

In the Gates of Repentance it is written: ‎"I hereby forgive all who have hurt me, all who have wronged me, whether deliberately or inadvertently, whether by word or by deed. May no one be punished on my account. And as I forgive and pardon those who have wronged me, may those whom I have harmed forgive me, whether I acted deliberately or inadvertently, whether by word or by deed." Amen...

Yeshua taught us to pray “forgive us as we forgive others," which implies that our forgiveness (of others) is the measure of our own forgiveness. In other words, as we forgive others, so we experience forgiveness ourselves... Forgiveness releases the hurt, the anger, and the disappointment so these feelings do not inwardly consume and exhaust our souls. And yet forgiveness must be self-directed, too, since refusing to forgive yourself denies or negates the forgiveness given from others. Forgiving yourself means admitting that you act just like other people, that you are human, and that you are in need of reconciliation too. We have to move on, past the shame, and to turn back to hope. As a Yiddish proverb puts it, "You are what you are, not what you were..."

It is written, "in many things we offend all," and therefore we must confess our sins one to another to find healing (James 5:16). However the practice of love overlooks a multitude of sins, and if we do not condemn those who offend us, then we will not need to forgive them for their offenses. Walking in God’s love sets us free from the slavery of negative emotions such as resentment, bitterness, anger, unresolved grief, and so on.

I love this affirmation and prayer attributed to Eusebius of Caesarea (c. 263-339 AD): "May I be the friend of that which is eternal and abides. May I never quarrel with those nearest me; and if I do, may we be reconciled quickly. May I never devise evil against anyone; and if any devise evil against me, may I escape uninjured and without any desire to hurt them. May I love, seek, and attain only that which is good. May I wish for the happiness of all and the misery of none. May I never rejoice in the ill-fortune of one who has wronged me. When I have done or said what is wrong, may I never wait for the rebuke of others, but always rebuke myself until I make amends.”

“May I, to the extent of my ability, give all needful help to my friends and to all who are in want. May I never fail a friend in danger. When visiting those in grief, may I be able by gentle and healing words to soften their pain. May I respect myself. May I always keep tame that which rages within me. May I accustom myself to be gentle, and never be angry with people because of circumstances. May I never discuss who is wicked and what wicked things he has done, but know good men and follow their footsteps." Amen. [Hebrew for Christians]

6.17.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

June 17, 2021

Reasonable Service

“I beseech you therefore...by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.” (Romans 12:1-2)

For those who would know God’s will for their lives, these verses provide the definitive answer. The key is sacrifice, not conformity. It is paradoxical, but wonderfully true, that real living is dying—dying to the world and living unto Christ! This great theme is emphasized repeatedly throughout the New Testament (Galatians 2:20, etc.).

Whether paradoxical or not, the principle of sacrificial living for Christ is eminently reasonable service! “Reasonable” is the Greek logikos, from which we derive our word “logical.” “Service” is the Greek latreian, referring to service as a priest. We have been made “an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 2:5). It is perfectly logical that we render such lifelong service to the great Friend who laid down His life for us in order to take away our sins and give us everlasting life with Him in the ages to come.

It is also logical that we should not conform our lives to the standards of this present evil world. Why should we imitate this world’s materialism or humanism, in dress or music or morals or anything else? We have far higher and more lasting standards, guided by the Word of God and by minds renewed in Christ.

Our minds once were “blinded” by “the god of this world” (2 Corinthians 4:4), but now they can be guided by “the mind of the Lord” (Romans 11:34; 1 Corinthians 2:16). Here is the key to knowing that good and acceptable and perfect will of God! HMM

[hauntedtacotreetrash]

(via Acts Chapter 28)

Chapter 281And when they were escaped, then they knew that the island was called Melita.2And the barbarous people shewed us no little kindness: for they kindled a fire, and received us every one, because of the present rain, and because of the cold.3And when Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks, and laid them on the fire, there came a viper out of the heat, and fastened on his hand.4And when the barbarians saw the venomous beast hang on his hand, they said among themselves, No doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he hath escaped the sea, yet vengeance suffereth not to live.5And he shook off the beast into the fire, and felt no harm.6Howbeit they looked when he should have swollen, or fallen down dead suddenly: but after they had looked a great while, and saw no harm come to him, they changed their minds, and said that he was a god.7In the same quarters were possessions of the chief man of the island, whose name was Publius; who received us, and lodged us three days courteously.8And it came to pass, that the father of Publius lay sick of a fever and of a bloody flux: to whom Paul entered in, and prayed, and laid his hands on him, and healed him.9So when this was done, others also, which had diseases in the island, came, and were healed:10Who also honoured us with many honours; and when we departed, they laded us with such things as were necessary.11And after three months we departed in a ship of Alexandria, which had wintered in the isle, whose sign was Castor and Pollux.12And landing at Syracuse, we tarried there three days.13And from thence we fetched a compass, and came to Rhegium: and after one day the south wind blew, and we came the next day to Puteoli:14Where we found brethren, and were desired to tarry with them seven days: and so we went toward Rome.15And from thence, when the brethren heard of us, they came to meet us as far as Appii forum, and The three taverns: whom when Paul saw, he thanked God, and took courage.16And when we came to Rome, the centurion delivered the prisoners to the captain of the guard: but Paul was suffered to dwell by himself with a soldier that kept him.17And it came to pass, that after three days Paul called the chief of the Jews together: and when they were come together, he said unto them, Men and brethren, though I have committed nothing against the people, or customs of our fathers, yet was I delivered prisoner from Jerusalem into the hands of the Romans.18Who, when they had examined me, would have let me go, because there was no cause of death in me.19But when the Jews spake against it, I was constrained to appeal unto Caesar; not that I had ought to accuse my nation of.20For this cause therefore have I called for you, to see you, and to speak with you: because that for the hope of Israel I am bound with this chain.21And they said unto him, We neither received letters out of Judaea concerning thee, neither any of the brethren that came shewed or spake any harm of thee.22But we desire to hear of thee what thou thinkest: for as concerning this sect, we know that every where it is spoken against.23And when they had appointed him a day, there came many to him into his lodging; to whom he expounded and testified the kingdom of God, persuading them concerning Jesus, both out of the law of Moses, and out of the prophets, from morning till evening.24And some believed the things which were spoken, and some believed not.25And when they agreed not among themselves, they departed, after that Paul had spoken one word, Well spake the Holy Ghost by Esaias the prophet unto our fathers,26Saying, Go unto this people, and say, Hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand; and seeing ye shall see, and not perceive:27For the heart of this people is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes have they closed; lest they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them.28Be it known therefore unto you, that the salvation of God is sent unto the Gentiles, and that they will hear it.29And when he had said these words, the Jews departed, and had great reasoning among themselves.30And Paul dwelt two whole years in his own hired house, and received all that came in unto him,31Preaching the kingdom of God, and teaching those things which concern the Lord Jesus Christ, with all confidence, no man forbidding him.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

8x08: Analysis - DID YOU SEE THE FREAKING PHOENIX!!!

***As always, spoilers for 8x08 abound in this post. Don’t read until you’ve watched! You’ve been warned!***

Okay lovely followers! Here goes! First of all, Grrh, Grrh, and Grrh all around. I so wish we would have seen her last night. I know there are lots of people who want to leave TD and give up, but I’m begging you not to. Because we did actually see a LOT of signs of her. I’m just going to talk about them in a broad sense today, and then I’ll do a details post tomorrow.

Let me start by saying this: 

I honestly had myself convinced that Carl wasn’t dying. I originally wrote my “Beth Green was Never Gimple’s Sheriff” meta after the spoilers first aired, and I stand 100% by my interpretation of events in it. But I also wondered if it wouldn’t actually be Carl’s death that brought them about. I thought that if he was taken by Negan or something else happened that effectively removed him from the narrative for a time, it could still work exactly as I laid out, but without Carl actually dying.

But alas. I was wrong. Or rather, I was right. At first. Then wrong in thinking spoilers were wrong and he wouldn’t die. It’s really tragic, but most of what I said in that meta weeks ago is turning out to be true.

Did everyone see the flaming phoenix? That was the first thing that jumped out at me. I think maybe it’s supposed to be the cross from the church or something, but look at this screenshot! It’s a Phoenix! Nothing just-so-happens to burn in the shape of a resurrection bird. We all know who had tons of phoenix symbolism around her. The Phoenix is about to rise from the ashes!

If you’re confused, check out Phoenix symbolism and how it’s been used in TWD here: (X, X)

I might have sort of screamed at my TV and scared the tar out of my brothers when I saw that. That’s not an accident, guys. Nothing just naturally burns in the shape of a bird. 

Another thing we thought was significant was seeing Eugene’s digital clock change from 11:59 to 12:00. It’s a new day. 

This will probably make more sense later when one of us does a post about it, but @thegloriouscollectorlady and I have been talking about dawn symbolism for like two weeks now. Of course there was Dawn at Grady, but there’s been SO much dawn and sunrise symbolism to take into account. We’re really thinking that the next dawn/sunrise we see will reveal Beth. I was actually mildly surprised that we didn’t make it to dawn in this episode. I guess I just assumed we would. I thought at dawn, we’d see Beth, though probably at Oceanside rather than Alexandria.

The dawn is still coming, guys. And remember that the night is darkest just before dawn. This is TF’s dark moment. Their home is gone. Their people are dead, dying, or imprisoned. Carl is dying. They’re all trapped in the tunnel and, based on the promo for episode 9, are afraid to leave because the Saviors will find and kill them. Another surprise for me was Maggie’s sharp turn toward brutality. Just didn’t think she’d take that route. She’s becoming more brutal too. Like Daryl. Perfect time for Beth to show, yeah?

As Maggie said in 5x10, “This is just the dark part.”

A third symbol is the tunnel itself. Can we all say dark tunnel symbolism? There’s all the stuff we’ve seen that I’ve talked about exhaustively (X) plus there’s the dark tunnel card in the opening credits (X) that Emily’s name was in along with Chad Coleman, and followed by MC and SMG. Now that dark tunnel card is gone, but TF is literally hanging out in a dark tunnel. We had this really interesting shot of the long dark tunnel with a light kindled at the end. 

And Norman always said Beth was Daryl’s light in the dark tunnel. If this isn’t symbolic that his light is about to be rekindled, I don’t know what is.

And can we talk about Daryl holding Judith for a minute? I got an Ask a week or two ago about how Daryl was seen wearing his vest in 8b, and whether that bothered me or not. The idea is that if he gets his vest back, but not Beth, is that bad for TD? First of all, just because he was seen wearing it doesn’t mean Beth won’t have returned at that point. But either way it doesn’t bother me. I see it as a positive sign for us. Same with Daryl interacting with Judith, which he hasn’t done since S5. Things are starting to change. If he’s getting his vest back and holding Judith again, Beth is just the next logical step.

In terms of the plot, it’s really heartbreaking, though. Did you notice how everyone else in the tunnel moved away from Carl when Rick and Michonne walked in? And Tara gave Rick a long, significant look? I think we can assume they all already knew of Carl’s bite. Daryl took Judith and they gave Rick and Michonne space and time to be with Carl.

But we can link this to SO many past things with Daryl. When he arrived at Alexandria, he told Deanna that, “The boy and the baby deserve a roof, I guess.” He was staying for the kids as much as Rick was, though it was very obvious in 5b that Daryl didn’t want to be in Alexandria.

Then there’s that deleted roof scene from Coda where Rick says he’d do anything to keep Carl and Judith safe. By extension, Rick was telling Daryl he understood that Daryl would do anything to keep Beth and Carol safe. He was equating the two. So they understood one another. So Daryl knows what Carl’s death will mean to Rick and how hard he’ll take it. More than that, he knows exactly what it feels like to lose the one person you would have done anything to protect.

I know I mentioned this possibility once before, and @thegloriouscollectorlady and I have discussed it extensively over the past few weeks. Here it is playing out: this is a parallel between Daryl and Rick’s arcs. Daryl lost his person (Beth) and went through extreme grieving and sadness because of it. Now Rick is losing his person (Carl) and will do the same. So Daryl knows Carl is dying and he’s holding Judith close.

Judith is a link to Beth. Beth took care of Judith for the entire first year or more of her life. So Daryl lost Beth, who Judith reminds him of, and now he knows that Rick is losing Carl, and that he’ll feel much the same pain Daryl felt over Beth, so he’s holding on like hell to Judith. In a dark tunnel. After the Phoenix burned.

Let me also reiterate what I said in my Ask yesterday morning: Oceanside is up in the air. I still think she’ll come through there, and we didn’t by far see the end of that arc.

I actually think it’s super interesting that Natania is dead. (RIP Natania.) Suddenly Oceanside has no leader. How very interesting.

Finally, let me address something that’s kind of an outside-the-show thing. I didn’t think Carl would die, which was one of the main reasons I was hopeful that we’d see Beth. Since he IS dying, it’s probably best that she didn’t come back in this episode. As frustrating as it is to wait, having both happen at the same time might have caused backlash among fans. Some of them, especially die-hard Carl fans who are going to be super depressed and angry at his loss, may have seen it as sacrificing one character for another, and hated on Beth’s story line. So it’s probably best to keep them as two separate events and give Carl the proper sendoff and respect his death deserves.

I was super-disappointed not to see Beth in this episode, but barring that, I actually thought it was an excellent mid-season finale. I can’t wait to re-watch it. Just beautiful and tragic and epic. AND THERE WAS A FREAKING PHOENIX IN IT!!!

I’m not going to say anything else today. I’ll just let everyone sit with it. Tomorrow I’ll do a details post (because there was a ridiculous amount of details in this episode, most of which revolved around Carl.) After that, I’ll do a TTD post. Because there were some VERY interesting things said in TTD. Like I was literally laughing and thinking, “Good job Khary. Good job Gimple. Way to give away the farm.” Good stuff. Then I’ll post a couple of other things later in the week that I’ve been planning for a while.

I really am super-sad to lose Carl, but I’m telling you guys, it actually points more heavily than ever to Beth’s imminent return. Hope you can all hold out hope over the hiatus. I’ll bring you more evidence tomorrow. Xoxo!

[thewalkingdeadimaginings]

All Coming Back To Me

Oh my gosh could you please do an imagine where Abraham and Reader were like pen pals before the break out and the reader is a member of Alexandria and something that Abraham says kind of clicks and she knows it the man she'd been writing to? 😆

Ah, I’m nearly caught up with my backed up requests. Since I’m getting so close to being caught up, maybe I’ll update Beauty of a Secret in the next few days since I updated No Regrets a few days ago. Although I do have some requests coming up that are gonna take a while to finish because they’re pretty long requests. Not that I mind, I absolutely love the ideas you guys come up with and I just hope that I do your visions justice.

ALSO, just a reminder for anyone who’s new here or put in a request: I am not ignoring your requests. I see them and I’ve made note of them but I don’t usually respond to the requests until I post them although I haven’t done that lately. I’m nearly caught up although the more recent ones I’ve gotten are falling a little behind now so I’m TRYING TO HURRY so this doesn’t happen again. Anyways, enough gab.

You were the kind of person that couldn’t part with a lot of things. You could find the sentimental value in everything. And one of the many things you kept were a stack of a letters that you had been getting from a pen pal somewhere in Houston, Texas. His name was Abraham Ford and even his written words were energetic and full of fire. His gentler writings were about his wife and his children. He adored them and that’s what always brought you back to reading old letters. He had a big heart and you admired that about him. Whether or not you ever actually met him in person, he was a kind and passionate man and you were glad to have him as a friend and hear his stories about his family or even war stories even though most of them didn’t have happy endings. He had quite a colorful way of telling stories. The term “bitch nuts” and “motherdick” came up quite often in his letters. Maybe one day, you’d be able to meet the man you knew as a close friend.

But when the world ended, you had to leave those letters and those memories behind and that broke your heart more than anything. If you could’ve carried those letters with you, you would have. But there was only space for the essentials. You hoped that on the day the world was restored, you could go back home and find those letters again. You hoped they’d be safe from harm. But knowing how desperate everyone was, you had doubts. Someone might stay in what was once your home to get away from the dead, find the letters and use them as kindling to make a fire. As angry as the thought made you, you also knew it was something you would’ve done if you were staying in an abandoned house. You couldn’t be too angry at the idea of someone trying to survive any way they could. You had to learn to let those letters go. You had to let Abraham go. He had probably died a long time ago. What were the chances of him getting out of Texas alive and reaching Virginia? Slim to none. So, you had to move on.

And eventually you did move on. You soon came across a newly established community called Alexandria and thrived. Over time, you were able to bury every memory of Abraham and his letters. Soon, you even forgot his name. Forgetting was much easier than living with the fact that your friend was dead. You made new friends, created new memories.

One friend you’d made, Aaron and his boyfriend, Eric left for a few days to recruit new people to live in the community. He had good judgment and knew who to bring back and who to leave behind. In the past year and a half he’d been doing this, Deanna, the community’s leader, only had to banish one or two people. When Aaron returned, he brought a huge group back with him. At least fifteen people in the group including a baby. You hadn’t seen a baby in so long. Who knew there would ever be a baby in the world again.

“Wow, Aaron,” you said once everyone came through the gate, “You brought back an army.”

“I know,” Aaron replied, “I never expected to find so many people at once. I think they’re really gonna fit in here.”

They were all filthy and looked so exhausted and uncomfortable. They needed some warm food, a hot shower, and clean clothes desperately, “Look at them. God, who knows how long they’ve been out there.”

“Weeks,” Aaron said, “At least that’s what their leader told me. But they’ve still stuck together through it all.”

“That is pretty great,” you said. Before finding Alexandria, you didn’t really have a group with you. You were at first but they were all dead by the time Aaron found you. To have such a group was a blessing. They were truly a family.

“Could you do me a favor and set them up with their houses for me?” Aaron said, “They’re gonna need them.”

“Of course,” you said, “You get their weapons from them?”

“We’re about to,” Aaron said, “Just want them to get used to us first before we go and demand their weapons. I kinda made us sound shady when I was trying to tell them about this place. Don’t wanna give them an even worse first impression.”

“No doubt,” you murmured. With that, you left to get the group’s new home set up. At the moment, you only had two for the fourteen of them. Finding a space for the baby shouldn’t be too difficult though. You managed to find a crib and a playpen for the baby and ran into one of the members of the new group as you were carrying the playpen a bit awkwardly in your arms. His friendly smile was hidden a bit by his horseshoe moustache but you were still at ease looking into his blue eyes.

“You need some help with that?” he asked.

“Oh, no thank you,” you replied, using the playpen to gesture to the house in front of you, “Just gotta get this into the house for the little girl you brought with you. She’s so precious, by the way.”

“She is,” he said, “She’s Judith, Rick’s daughter.”

“Oh I see,” you said, “So, what do you think of this place so far?”

He looked around, taking in the sereneness around him. Even though you’d lived here for such a long time, the peacefulness of it all still took your breath away sometimes. To think it was possible to live in such tranquility in a world like this seemed impossible. You could see the awe and bewilderment in his eyes.

“Seems too good to be true,” he said finally, “But, for now, it’s nice. What about you? How long have you lived here?”

“I got here kinda at the beginning,” you explained, “The walls had just barely been put up when I arrived. But I’m still so surprised by this place sometimes like I’m new here all over again. I can’t even imagine how you and your people are feeling right now.”

“It’s surreal,” he said, slowly nodding his head, “So, I never even asked you your name.”

“Y/N.”

He paused as if you’d startled him, raising his eyebrows a bit. Before you could ask, he spoke up, “Sorry, it’s just I knew someone with that name once. A while back.”

“Oh,” you murmured, “Sorry to hear that. What’s your name? Aaron didn’t mention any names.”

“Abraham.”

The name sounded so familiar but you couldn’t place it in your mind. God, the end of the world had really messed with your memory, like you had to put your past to rest and adapt to the new world as a new person.

“Nice name,” you said, “Well, it was nice to meet you, Abraham. I gotta get this playpen into the house now before the rest of your people get here. I wanna make sure everything’s set up for all of you.”

“That’s nice of you, Y/N,” he said, frowning slightly at the mention of your name. Whoever this person was, losing them was hard on him. Seeing him so upset simply because of your name made your heart break for him. This person must’ve been important to him.

“It’s no problem,” you said, “I’ll see you around, Abraham.”

Abraham. Abraham. Abraham. You repeated his name over and over again in your head and the answers still wouldn’t appear before you. It drove you mad that his name was right there in the back of your mind but you couldn’t grasp where you’d heard it before. Had you known someone with that name? Had you met someone during your brief journey before discovering Alexandria with that name? You’d met a few people before meeting Aaron, it was definitely a possibility. But it would bother you until the end of time unless you figured it out. If you could only remember, you might’ve gotten a restful sleep that night.

The next morning, Deanna had asked you to take some clean linens and clothes to the new group after breakfast. They’d kept to themselves for the most part. They explored a little and met a few people around the community but were still cautious and jumpy. You weren’t surprised though. Who knows what this group had endured before arriving here.

When you knocked on their door, one of the women in the group, Rosita, opened the door, “Oh, hi. Y/N, right? What’re you doing up so early?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you chuckled.

“Habit,” Rosita said with a smile, “We’re used to being up at dawn. Wanna come in?”

“Sure, thank you,” you said. You and Rosita walked into the house and you set a laundry basket full of bedsheets, pillowcases, and clothes of various sizes down on the back of the couch, “Deanna asked me to bring your more stuff. We wanna make sure you’re comfortable.”

“That’s nice,” Rosita said. Taking the basket from you, she nodded towards the kitchen, “You wanna stick around a while? Carol was heating up some water to make tea if you wanted some.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” you replied, leaning against the couch, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Rosita said, “I’m just gonna take this basket upstairs. Be back in a sec.”

As Rosita walked up the staircase, she passed Abraham coming down. He had just gotten out of the shower, water dropping off the ends of his red hair onto the towel wrapped around his neck. He had trimmed his moustache a little, making it easier to see the smile he greeted you with.

“Morning, Y/N,” he said, “You’re up kinda early.”

“So are the rest of you,” you said, “Rosita invited me to stay for tea.”

“That’s cool,” Abraham said, “Deanna’s got me a job in construction.”

“Oh, working on the expansion?”

“The very same.”

“That’s awesome,” you said, “Glad to see you’re excited about it. Were you in construction before?”

“No, I was a sergeant in the US army,” Abraham replied, “Had a wife and two kids, lost them after the world went to shit.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry,” you said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Abraham nodded, hanging his head. Then, out of nowhere, it hit you. Abraham. Abraham…Ford. Abraham Ford. From Houston. US Army, wife, two kids. Letters. The letters. The letters!

“Oh my god,” you whispered. You’d never seen what he looked like before but this had to be the same man, the man you’d befriended all the way from Texas. Your friend. He’d made it. He’d made it after all. You’d waited so long to meet him face to face and now that you had, you weren’t even sure what to do. You’d forced yourself to forget about him because the pain of losing a friend had been too much. But there he was, standing in front of you and he had no idea who you were.

“What?” Abraham said.

“You’re Abraham Ford,” you said, “From Houston, Texas.”

“How in the holy fuck did you know that?” Abraham snapped.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, “The one who you were writing to back and forth. Before the world ended, we were pen pals. That’s me.”

Abraham’s blue eyes widened and he gasped, pointing at you, “Y/N! Holy shit balls I can’t even believe it! It’s you! I never thought we’d ever fucking meet! What a way to meet, right?”

You laughed. Abraham hadn’t changed one bit, “Totally. I’m so relieved to know that you’re alive. I don’t even know how to feel right now.”

“Me neither,” Abraham said, “Ya know, I saved all your letters. They were in a drawer in my desk back home.”

“I saved mine too,” you said, “I had mine in a shoebox in my closet. I wish I’d brought them with me. Oh my god, I still can’t believe this.”

Abraham nodded in agreement. There was a long pause, neither of you sure what to say or what to do. Despite being old friends, this world had changed the both of you. Your friendship might have to start over from scratch.

But you knew it would be worth it.

Without another word, you rushed towards him and threw your arms around him, holding him in a hug that you’d waited so long to give him. He didn’t hesitate in hugging you back, squeezing you tightly against him. This was a huge moment for the both of you. The timing and circumstances of your first meeting were awful but you didn’t even care. You finally met your closest friend, the person that always made you laugh and made your days better. You had forgotten how badly you missed him until now. But now, you wouldn’t have to miss him anymore. You had your friend back.

YAY I FINISHED THIS IN ONE DAY! Does anyone ever actually read these little “author’s notes” at the end of every one shot? I dunno, just wondering. But anyways, thanks for reading and as always, thank you so much for your patience as I catch up on these requests 😊 <3

[bibleread2017]

Acts chapter 28

And when they were escaped, then they knew that the island was called Melita.

And the barbarous people shewed us no little kindness: for they kindled a fire, and received us every one, because of the present rain, and because of the cold.

And when Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks, and laid them on the fire, there came a viper out of the heat, and fastened on his hand.

And when the barbarians saw the venomous beast hang on his hand, they said among themselves, No doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he hath escaped the sea, yet vengeance suffereth not to live.

And he shook off the beast into the fire, and felt no harm.

Howbeit they looked when he should have swollen, or fallen down dead suddenly: but after they had looked a great while, and saw no harm come to him, they changed their minds, and said that he was a god.

In the same quarters were possessions of the chief man of the island, whose name was Publius; who received us, and lodged us three days courteously.

And it came to pass, that the father of Publius lay sick of a fever and of a bloody flux: to whom Paul entered in, and prayed, and laid his hands on him, and healed him.

So when this was done, others also, which had diseases in the island, came, and were healed:

Who also honoured us with many honours; and when we departed, they laded us with such things as were necessary.

And after three months we departed in a ship of Alexandria, which had wintered in the isle, whose sign was Castor and Pollux.

And landing at Syracuse, we tarried there three days.

And from thence we fetched a compass, and came to Rhegium: and after one day the south wind blew, and we came the next day to Puteoli:

Where we found brethren, and were desired to tarry with them seven days: and so we went toward Rome.

And from thence, when the brethren heard of us, they came to meet us as far as Appii forum, and The three taverns: whom when Paul saw, he thanked God, and took courage.

And when we came to Rome, the centurion delivered the prisoners to the captain of the guard: but Paul was suffered to dwell by himself with a soldier that kept him.

And it came to pass, that after three days Paul called the chief of the Jews together: and when they were come together, he said unto them, Men and brethren, though I have committed nothing against the people, or customs of our fathers, yet was I delivered prisoner from Jerusalem into the hands of the Romans.

Who, when they had examined me, would have let me go, because there was no cause of death in me.

But when the Jews spake against it, I was constrained to appeal unto Caesar; not that I had ought to accuse my nation of.

For this cause therefore have I called for you, to see you, and to speak with you: because that for the hope of Israel I am bound with this chain.

And they said unto him, We neither received letters out of Judaea concerning thee, neither any of the brethren that came shewed or spake any harm of thee.

But we desire to hear of thee what thou thinkest: for as concerning this sect, we know that every where it is spoken against.

And when they had appointed him a day, there came many to him into his lodging; to whom he expounded and testified the kingdom of God, persuading them concerning Jesus, both out of the law of Moses, and out of the prophets, from morning till evening.

And some believed the things which were spoken, and some believed not.

And when they agreed not among themselves, they departed, after that Paul had spoken one word, Well spake the Holy Ghost by Esaias the prophet unto our fathers,

Saying, Go unto this people, and say, Hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand; and seeing ye shall see, and not perceive:

For the heart of this people is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes have they closed; lest they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them.

Be it known therefore unto you, that the salvation of God is sent unto the Gentiles, and that they will hear it.

And when he had said these words, the Jews departed, and had great reasoning among themselves.

And Paul dwelt two whole years in his own hired house, and received all that came in unto him,

Preaching the kingdom of God, and teaching those things which concern the Lord Jesus Christ, with all confidence, no man forbidding him.

[notesonfilm1]

A poster for Youssef Chahine’s 1963 action film ‘Saladin’ (original title: ‘El Naser Salah el Dine’) starring Ahmed Mazhar. (Photo by Movie Poster Image Art/Getty Images)

  A discussion of Youssef Chahine’s Saladin which offers some context on the cinematic representation of Saladin in relation to Richard the Lion Heart, some historical information in its relation to Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser’s efforts to maintain a United Arab Republic, and Chahine’s attempts to narrate those aspirations through the story of Saladin. We admire the film’s use of the CinemaScope frame, its staging in depth, its use of colour, and editing; and bemoan the way some of the action is directed. A huge popular success in its day. An Arab answer to the epics then so popular in Hollywood, not least in offering an Arab point-of-view on the Crusades; and a cultural mainstay through its regular rotation on television: this was also reputedly Nasser’s favourite film.

As time goes on, Richard and I are becoming better informed, partly just through watching more of Chahine’s work, but also through the arrival of different types of information that we will post on here as and when we get it. This week’s arrivals are a wonderful book on Chanine’s work by Malek Khouri, The Arab National Project in Youssef Chahine’s Cinema (Cairo: The American University in Cairo Press, 2010).

According to Khouri, ‘When Chahine embarked on the making of Saladin (1963) the atmosphere in Egypt and the Arab world was still experienced (sic) the negative effects of the failure of the attempt to create a United Arabl Republic (AUR). The disbanding of the Union in the aftermath of a secessionist military coup d’état in Syria in 1961) was a major blow to the Nasser revolution and its pan-Arab project. Whilt the move in Damascus exposed frustrations with repressive Egyptian administrative and political praactices in Syria with the miliatry and economic elite, the secession, nevertheless, did not reflect the deep-rooted pro-Arab unity sentiments in Syria. Jst two years later a counter coup took place in Damascus, restoring pro-union supporters to power. TheUnited Arab Republic, however, did not re-emerge after the change of leadership in Damascus, and Egypt alone remained in the union until its name was changed in 1971 after the death of Nasser’ (p.42).

Khouri sees Chahine’s film as ‘the most pivotal of the 1960’s) and one ‘clearly informed by this critical moment in contemporary Arab history with all its preoccupations, hopes, and anxieties over the prospect of national unity’ (p.44).

According to Chahine himself, ‘in Saladin, I was not hesitant in telling Christians that they were wrong in coming over to occupy our land. I, myself a Christian, have lived in the heart of Muslim culture where 90 per cent of the people whom I loved were Muslims…From the time of Andalusia to (today’s) Alexandria, the idea of diversity within a predominantly Muslim culture has been much more integrated than it has ever been within mostly Christina societies. There are not just words…This is exactly how I feel (cited in Khouri, p.45). The podcast can be listened to below:

  https://soundcloud.com/user-766042506/the-youssef-chahine-podcast-no-4-jose-and-richard-on-saladin-egypt-1963

  I have included some clips we refer to in the podcast. Here the murder of the pilgrims which Khouri praises for its use of colour and for its focus, ‘on the symbolic rathe than on literal interpretation and presentation).

  The film has marvellous cutting and a very inventive use of CinemaScope. Khouri notes how ‘Theatrical and print advertisements touted its Cinemascope technology (a first in Arab Cinema), its star power (an ensemble featuring many popular Egyptian actors), and its massive number of extras.

You can further admire the use of widescreen and staging in depth in the clip below, though I posted it mainly for its unusual portrait of female warriors (though admittedly Virginia is also the villain of the piece)

The film has brilliant use of a dramatic, theatrical, split screen:

  The film provides further proof of the sensuality evident in Chahine, such as in the clip below where a dancing girl is paid to gather information.

  and the homoeroticism is also evident:

According to Khouri, ‘The film positions Saladin as a man of moral integrity, in radical contrast to the way he has traditionally been imagined in western cinema’ (p.45). Richard, however, argues that this is not quite the case, pointing to De Mille’s The Crusades (1935) and providing the original New York Times review of the film which argues that, ‘A gallant victor, Saladin abandoned his plan to add Berengaria to his harem, sent her back to Richard and threw the Holy City open to Moslems and Christians alike.It is Saladin, in fact, who emerges as the real hero of the photoplay.’ This view is ratified by a recent review of the same film in The Guardian.

Richard also pointed me to a youtube clip from the Doctor Who version – Saladin played in blackface but sympathetic in opposition to Richard the Lionheart (we discuss Saladin’s  ‘whitefacing’ of westerners in the podcast);  and a trailer for the 1954 version of King Richard and the Crusaders, which looks hilarious. But again it seems to be a sympathetic portrayal of Saladin and the villains are Richard’s underlings.

The other arrival this week that enhanced my understanding of  Saladin was Twflik Hakem’s book of interviews with Chahine, Youseff Chahine, Le révolutionnaire tranquille (Paris: Capricci, 2018). There, Hakem claims Chaine convinced President Nasser that Saladin could be no other than himself and charmed him into putting his army and his administration at Chahine’s disposal so he could make the film (Tu as pu faire croire au président Nasser que Saladin ça ne puvait être autre que lui et il a mis à ta dispoition son armée et son administration pour que tupuisses mettre en chantier une superproduction et réaliser ton rêve hollywoodien’ (loc 256 of 1750 on Kindle).

We learn from Hakem that Nasser adored the film and Chahine tells him, ‘yes, he wanted a copy on hand (by his bed). Whenever a visitor came to see him, he had the film projected. He would usually fall asleep because he’d seen it hundreds of times but would wake up at the end and say ‘good he?’ All of that is true but the first truth is that the film is not at all to the glory of Nasser, it’s nreally not. (Oui, il avait une copie du film sous le lit. Chaque visiteur qui venait le voir, il lui faisait projeter dans sa salle de projection. Lui dormait, parce qu’l avait vu cent foies et il se révellait juste avant la fin pour dire au visiteur: v”Alors? C’est bien hein? Tout cela est vrai mais la véritér première est que le film n’est pas du tout à la gloire de Nasser, mais vraiment pas.’

  The Ritrovato Catalogue’s entry on the film is below:

  According to Khouri, Saladin was extremely popular, ‘in a contemporary assessment of the overwhelming popular uccess of the film, a local newspaper described how Saladin played to full houses in almost every large theatre in Cairo and Alexandria for weeks in order to allow pople to watch it along with their entire families: ‘This is a film which makes us all feel proud…and it is a miracle indeed that it was made in the first place (p.49)! The film continues to resonate across the Arab world. Over twenty-six years after the film was released, according to Khouri, one local critic wrote, ‘I asked a friend of mine, a woodworker, did you see the film Saladin last night and he said, If this film was shown a hundred times in a hundred days I would still sit and watch it.

In the UK however, Time Out, wrote a very dismissive three-line review.

  José Arroyo

    The Youssef Chahine Podcast with José Arroyo and Richard Layne: No. 4 Saladin (Youssef Chahine, Egypt, 1963) A discussion of Youssef Chahine's Saladin which offers some context on the cinematic representation of Saladin in relation to Richard the Lion Heart, some historical information in its relation to Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser's efforts to maintain a United Arab Republic, and Chahine's attempts to narrate those aspirations through the story of Saladin.

[multiplefandomfics]

Grimes Sisters chapter 20

Parings: Daryl x Alex

Warnings: angst, smut, unprotected sex,

Words: 2749

Alex POV

It had roughly been a year since Fabienne vanished and we hadn‘t found her. Two weeks had been spent searching every corner in a 15 mile radius around that abandoned hotel in the woods.  It took everything we had but after that time we had to admit that it was to no use to keep searching and probably endanger someone else from the group. Everyday spent in small troops out there was a risk. So at some point we just packed our bags and left everything behind. Here and there we found a refuge along the way to rest and scavenge for supplies.

Then something surprisingly wonderful happened. A few month on the road fighting for life and death we encountered a tall man named Aaron. He told us about a community called Alexandria. I thought it fit kinda perfect. The people there had lived behind the walls since the start and had no idea how it was going on outside. Most of them had never seen a walker up close let alone killed one. And so they needed our help protect and gather supplies in the real world. At first we were skeptical about those people, it could have ended badly but together we decided to give it a careful chance. We deserved some normality.

By now we had already been living in Alexandria for about three months. It was a different way of living behind those feet high walls. Enough food, water, medicine and even electricity and running water. In the beginning I had stood under the shower and in front of the faucet for hours at a time just enjoying some clean water. We even planted our own food which brought my memories painfully back to my lost sister. I thought about her from time to time. What was she up to? Had she found a place to stay? Or was she dead? Maybe they had all been lying and time didn’t heal all wounds.

The community was led by Deanna Monroe. Together with her husband Reg, who had been a Professor of Architecture before, and her two sons Spencer and Aiden, who were douche-bags, she had built this town up and secured it after the outbreak. She was really intelligent I had to give her that but she had no idea how to fight and never taught the others how to survive outside of their cocoon. In case that the walls should have fallen the inhabitants of Alexandria would have been useless and a danger to themselves. So Rick convinced Deanna to let the people who wanted to learn how to defend themselves and how to kill walkers. And that was the right strategy. We were able to do longer supply runs and had more people to stand guard on the watchtowers.  

But after Deanna’s husband Reg died tragically, she changed a lot. She gave the reigns to Rick more often so he led the community.

One evening when we sat at a bonfire we suddenly heard loud female screams. Immediately Daryl and Rick grabbed their weapons and ran toward the sound. Shocked we saw that it was Deanna being attacked by a walker that had already bitten her. She was bleeding badly and there was nothing we could have done so Rick rammed his knife into the walkers skull and with her last strength she pointed toward the gate that somebody hadn’t fully closed. The walker had slipped through the gap. Deanna had lost a lot of blood and died then so Daryl put her out of her misery. The next day we buried her in the small graveyard on the premises.

Even that had already been a month ago and Rick had taken over completely since.

Rosita, Abraham and Aaron had just arrived  back from a supply run. Since our arrival Aaron and I had really bonded, we could talk about anything. I embraced him lovingly. Relieved he was back. “You were gone forever!” I exclaimed. He just laughed as an answer. They had departed about 10 days before. “But we have found a lot of useful stuff.” he stated and so I started helping him and the others unload the vehicle. Even Daryl had arrived beside me and started to help. “Hey sweetheart.” he grumbled and kissed me. It was rare of him to show affection in public that was normally only going on behind closed doors. A few months ago we had finally made it official that we were a couple and it felt damn good. I smiled at him and together we unpacked everything and stowed it away.

I took a look around the storage garage that was finally full again and clapped Aaron on his shoulder “Real good job you did out there!” no one would have thought to be able to live like that again. Without starvation and fear.

Daryl entered the house we were living in together with Rick, Carl, Michonne and Judith. “Good evening.” I greeted him smiling. I was cooking our favorite. Spaghetti Bolognese. “Dinner will be ready in a bit, care to call the others?” I requested. He nodded and left to find them. Shortly after I had already set the table and was just putting the pot on a coaster while the others sat down. “I hope you’ll like it.” I blushed a little. “If it tastes only half as good as it smells it’ll be fantastic. Plus you know little sister, we love everything you make.” Rick smiled at me reassuringly. Eating together had become some kind of a ritual when no one was on a supply run or otherwise occupied and it was the most normal thing we could have done. “It’s really good Alex. Thank you.” Carl mumbled mouth full of spaghetti while Rick was silently throwing condemning glances at him.

When we were done eating Rick offered his help but I declined. He should take the time with his kids and relax a little.

Just when I had finished washing the dishes, Daryl joined me. When I didn’t spare him a glance he stepped behind me grabbing my hips turning me around and hoisting me up on the kitchen counter. “I love you.” he whispered in my ear and then laid his lips on mine kissing me passionately. My hands embedded themselves in his long strands and I pulled him closer which made him moan into the kiss. Then my legs wound themselves around his hips successfully caging him in.

Next his big calloused hands wandered under my shirt with the intention of pushing it over my head but I stopped him “Not here. Anyone could just walk in. It’s too risky.” he kissed my neck before mumbling “They’re all sleeping. Even Rick and I closed the door.” that was all the convincing I needed so I let him continue pulling of shirt and bra. We had lost any kind of patience at that point so we made quick work of our clothes never stopping the kissing. My delicate hands glided over his muscular upper arms. He held two finger out toward me and demanded “suck!” so I did and when he deemed them slick enough he slowing slid them inside my achingly wet pussy. My back arched and I clawed at his shoulders biting my lip til I drew blood to stifle my moans. As suddenly as he had started this he had also pulled away from me much to my dismay but I didn’t have to wait for too long because only a second later he replaced his thick fingers with his even thicker and longer cock. He didn’t give me time to adjust before pushing all the way inside. I just leaned against his shoulder and closed my eyes moaning into his flesh. I didn’t wanna wake the whole house after all but he just felt so damn good. “Fuck!” was the only word I was able to say in the moment of passion. But then he started to finally move agonizingly slow. So I pushed my hips upward to encourage him to go faster and fortunately he did. “Shit, you so wet babe. Clenchin’ round my cock so hard. You close?” he hushed in my ear. My hands had already grabbed at his back leaving nail imprints all over it. I really was getting close and when his last thrusts got even harder and deeper I fell over the edge screaming which he muffled by holding his hand over my mouth. He kept moving a bit more helping me ride through my orgasm and then he spilled deep inside me. Pulling out he took his hand from my mouth and grinned at me. Then he kissed me again with so much love behind it.

We only grabbed our clothes afterward and went upstairs to our bedroom. The next day was surely gonna be a hard day again…

Fabienne POV

For weeks I had been running aimlessly through the woods. I needed to let everything behind. The pain of losing Shane was omnipresent and I couldn’t shake the guilt away. It was only after a few weeks that I had realized that I had probably scared the others to death. Rick and Alex were trying to find me but I had reached the point of no return. I had to deal with my life on my own now and I was sure to make it.

One day I had found a small hunting shed in the woods and decided to stay there for a day or two. It had everything. Even firewood and a bed to sleep in. That made me almost flip with joy because it

had gotten really cold especially during the nights. I sat down in front of the self made fire and ate my canned stew. Finally I was able to eat that stuff warm.

Suddenly I was alarmed by noises outside and thought it to be a walker or two so I grabbed my knife but the person was at the door and grabbing the knob so I hid behind the old sofa in the room. Walkers couldn’t open doors – humans could. I stayed at the ready and when the tall and dark figure entered the room I waited until he had com closer and turned his back toward me before I jumped out holding my knife to his throat. Immediately he held up his hands in surrender “Oho little one. Keep calm. I didn’t know anyone was in here. Put the knife down I’m not gonna hurt you.” boomed his low voice. Skeptically I took the knife down and back in its holster then I tried to make out his features but were only able to when he stepped closer to the fire. “You say you had no idea that someone was in here but you saw the fire. Who was supposed to have kindled it? Bullshit you thought you could steal something here, didn’t you?” he just pulled up his shoulders . My voice probably sounded rough because he was the first person I had spoken to since I left my people.

“I’m sorry I bothered you I can go now if you want me to.” he had already turned on his heel but he seemed a nice enough guy so I stopped him. “Hey. Wait! I could use the company. I’m Fabienne by the way.” I outstretched my hand. He turned back around and took my hand shaking it. “I’m Negan and I’m glad to meet you.” he had that toothy smile that made you smile with him instantly. You didn’t know what it was but he had something special about him.

We stayed together that night talking about everything and nothing warming up against the fire.

The next morning I wanted to be on my way again but I got an offer I couldn’t refuse. Negan told me that he was building up a community and that he could use someone like me. He wanted me to accompany him but I wasn’t obliged to stay I could leave whenever I wanted. So I went with him. A bit later he showed me what he had started to build and I immediately felt home. Week for week more people joined us and it really began to take shape.

The next eight months had been amazing. I had integrated perfectly and I hadn’t felt that homely since the prison. I was still thinking about my family every day and wondered what they had been up to since I had left them a year before. I was sure they were still alive. They were survivors. “What’s wrong darlin´?” Negan had caught me stuck in one of my deep thoughts. He fell down on the couch next to me. I sighed “Just thought about my sister and brother and… Shane. My boyfriend who got bit because of me.” he put his hand on my shoulder calmingly. “I understand but you can’t change the past.” he tried to build me up. I knew he was right so I nodded toward him and smiled weakly.

“You wanna get outta here?” he suddenly asked to change the topic. He knew how to lighten my mood. Always got me out of the emotional hole I fell into from time to time. I grabbed my gear and we headed out with his car. Of course this trip wasn’t only for fun we also wanted to make this a supply run. In a small town we had discovered earlier we raided a supermarket and got some cans and toilet paper. “We gotta find more stuff or we’ll have a problem soon. The more people we have the more supplies we need.” I agreed with him there. “I’m sure we can harvest some of the tomato and potato crops soon and then everything will be better.” I assured him and we kept on riding.

Soon we found a small bay and sat down on a large stone. “I come here to relax and turn my mind off for a while. I think it’s quite beautiful.” he told me. I closed my eyes and enjoyed sun and silence. The wind was blowing through my hair. When I opened my eyes I noticed Negan staring at me “Take a picture it’ll last longer.” I teased. I definitely didn’t wanna deny the slight sexual tension between us but none of us ever acted on it. I saw his baffled face and started laughing which made him laugh too. No one was gonna believe me how much I adored this man. Negan was a strong leader. Serious and consequent on the one hand, and on the other smiling and goofing around. Unfortunately he didn’t do that at the sanctuary very often. But that made me feel even more honored because he only showed me that side of him. “The smile looks good on you.” I remarked. He just shrugged again and the laughing died down. “I’m seeing that differently...” but before he could finish I stopped him “Do you think they will lose their respect for you when you smile sometimes?” you asked him just as a joke but he took it seriously “They need to respect me.” he just ground out so I let it be.

We observed the sun vanishing behind the trees and there it was again this positive tension between us. My head turned back toward him and our faces inched closer until our lips touched gently. So my feelings hadn’t fooled me but I still wasn’t sure what this meant and I had this nagging guilt at the back of my head that told me I was cheating on Shane so I pulled away and turned my eyes down “I can’t do this right now… I’m sorry.. let’s go home.” I got up and walked back toward the car. But before I could reach the vehicle a strong hand pulled me back “Fabienne you can’t live in the past forever.” he stared deeply into my soul and our lips collided again. This time harder and with more passion and want. Negan pinned me to the car “You’re right!” I confirmed him. I was only human after all. The guilt and sadness would always be by my side but I had to stop thinking about that now. I needed to start living again and he was gonna help me with that...