#and for Sin it *was* for someone who grows so fast it *was* like years passed in his absence

[spookierdeer]

OL EUA YUGQ G XGOYOT OT MXGVK PAOIK, OZ ZAXTY OTZU G MXGVK. NGVVE NGRRUCKKT! 🎃⚠️

(costume talk and yapping under the cut)

starting from back to the front:

stan and ford are handing out candy this year, stan dressed in his vampire costume and planning to scare kids and ford is wearing a mabel (turtleneck!) pumpkin sweater, about as festive as he's willing to dress up this year. ford was originally planning to hole himself up in his lab and work on data analysis or whatever nerd shit he has going on but stan invites him to help scare the hell out of kids. ford declines initially, better things to do, but after checking to see how stan's doing (badly), ford decides to help by bursting out of the bushes with a glowing laser gun, face cloaked in shadow. it's more fun than he expects or admits and he eventually fully joins stan.

soos and melody are trick or treating in a couple costume, soos as zelda and melody as link. melody wanted to cosplay link for awhile and you cannot convince me soos wouldn't jump at the chance to dress up as a badass anime elf princess who can fire lasers.

mabel, pacifica, and waddles are dressed as utena, anthy, and chu chu respectively. i have a headcanon that post working at the diner and slowly getting used to normal kid things, pacifica discovers anime. specifically shojo princess anime. she finds utena and loses her mind over it in private, with mabel eventually breaking down her walls and getting her to admit to the sin of liking anime. mabel gets pacifica to show her her favorites and mabel immediately insists they need to cosplay as utena and anthy for halloween, pacifica is a princess after all! (said in jest, but baby gay panic ensues on pacifica's end. mabel is pretty oblivious to her plight and doesn't realize why being pacifica's knight makes her feel so giddy until later on.)

dipper sees pacifica joining mabel as an excuse to flake out on trick or treating without being a total jerk, especially since they'll be joined by candy and grenda later. i know he's working on not trying to grow up too fast by the end of the series, but kids and teens are full of anxiety and doubts and i figure he would be pretty awkward about a lot of things still, even after learning otherwise. wirt doesn't want to dress up since the previous halloween ended with him in the unknown then waking up in the hospital, but greg still wants to go trick or treating. dipper tags along to help babysit greg despite it not really being necessary, wirt's just glad to have someone to chat with while he takes greg, especially someone who doesn't leap to finding him strange. greg is going as a ghost elephant and wirt assumes it's just the weird kid tradition of layering costumes over the years, but greg's logic is that he "died" as an elephant last year so now the elephant is a ghost. if wirt heard this he would probably end up freaked out, but kids are often more aware of things than expected. dipper is wearing wendy's hat since she traded with him at the end of the series.

putting wirt and greg in there could feel a little random, but these are my two favorite shows to watch during autumn and i associate them with each other. plus, it's otgw's ten year anniversary and it's so perfectly halloween, i think it makes enough sense to put them together. idk i love joy and whimsy, i am cringe and i am free.

i initally wanted to include other characters, candy, grenda, and wendy for sure but i was also considering coraline, wybie, and norman. felt way too complicated so maybe i'll draw something with those characters some other time.

[monopersona]

Midnight Blues, Chapter 2: The Other Side

Zayne was the first thing she had ever wanted recklessly. She was always taught that desire should always be measured, tidy, and justifiable. That ambition is scripture and vulnerability is sin. It was all she had known. But Zayne? He made her greedy. He gave her the kind of love that burned bright and fast without ever stopping to consider the cost. The one where Mona looks back at her relationship

Zayne x OC. Post-divorce, exes, parents, coworkers, ANGST, a lot of reflection on this chapter.

A/N: Hi guys!! So I decided to continue Midnight Blues because the concept of Zayne and Mona would not leave my head. But I didn't just want to hastily post a follow up. This story needed care, and I wanted to make sure I did this right. If you read my other recent stories, you might know that writing is something I am just seriously picking up again, and this has been so far the most challenging idea to explore. I have toyed with this concept in four different formats, went back and forth between three main arcs, and here we are today. While I have not completed writing this story yet, I believe I have the big picture finally set to guide me there.

I also want to thank you so much for your feedback about my writing! Whether it's about Midnight Blues or my other fics, they really have become a motivator. In a way, you help me hold myself accountable to my writing goals, which is amazing. And in exchange, if I can provide you stories you like, that is good enough for me. Enjoy!

Previous chapter | You can read on ao3 here

Structure, precision, and strategy.

These three things weren’t just Mona���s values. They were the building blocks of her life. They pushed her to aim higher, move faster, and chase ambitions no matter the cost. That blueprint had been laid early in her life, mapped out by parents who loved her through excellence. Fortunately, Mona had the brilliance to match their expectations. Even as a child, she understood that excellence was a language people listened to, and achievement is a currency.

Medicine had been a breeze to conquer this way. The human body followed rules. Systems. Predictable consequences. Love, on the other hand, broke every law she had ever learned. There was no structure nor strategy that could come into play.

She and Zayne had met as the youngest in their batch in medical school. They were both prodigies. Too young, too brilliant, too fast. They were taught to dissect bodies before they even understood their own. In comparison, most of their peers had more years, more life, but not more pressure. They would never understand the aching loneliness of being the youngest in every room, always to be admired and dismissed in equal measure. Sparks did not draw the both of them together, but it was the quiet recognition of feeling out of place. Always a little too much, never truly belonging anywhere.

They had grown up quickly to get where they were, but they hadn’t finished growing yet. Maybe that’s what made the connection feel so sharp when it finally clicked; their youth was both armor and burden. A sweet, bitter common ground.

Zayne was quiet back then. Guarded in that way that looked like arrogance until you realized it was just survival. Mona ignored him for most of their first semester, though. Her grades were the only thing on her mind and she refused to let any distraction lead her to fumble. But one day, in the middle of a lecture, he muttered a deadpan joke under his breath. Something about the aorta or the jugular vein? She couldn't remember it now, but she laughed so hard she snorted. Professor Noah had scolded her, but Zayne just looked at her like he was glad someone had heard him. And that was all it took. Soon it was late nights at the library, caffeine-fueled rants, anatomy quizzes before class, shared dreams about what kind of doctors they would become. Somewhere in the blur of ambition and overachievement, they fell in love.

When she was twelve, Mona grew a love for embroidery. She would buy tools and flosses after school and learned to make flowers on her hold t-shirts from video tutorials. When she started getting really good at it, she embroidered her mother's handkerchief with violets all around. When her mother found out it took her a month to complete it, she chastised her.

"Don't waste your time on things that don't bring any benefits to your future."

"You shouldn't be dwelling on useless things."

"If anything, you could have used those hours to study."

The handkerchief was thrown away, and Mona cried silently in her room that night. Ever since then, she never had the courage to want anything for herself unless it was encouraged by her parents. Not even the little things. It was a miserable way to grow up, but it did bring her to where she was right now: an accomplished doctor, carefully molded by her ambitious parents. She can't tell if that was supposed to be liberating or suffocating.

Zayne was the first thing she had ever wanted recklessly. She was always taught that desire should always be measured, tidy, and justifiable. That ambition is scripture and vulnerability is sin. It was all she had known. But Zayne? He made her greedy. He gave her the kind of love that burned bright and fast without ever stopping to consider the cost. Neither of them had been prudent in love, but especially not Mona. And she didn't want to. Not for this one thing in her life that was her safe place. She loved him, and his love never made her shrink. He didn't just understand her ambitions; he matched it. For once, she didn’t have to soften herself to be wanted. She could be brilliant, relentless, and still feel seen. That kind of intimacy—when you're young enough—feels like a forever thing.

At twenty-two, they got married.

The ceremony was small. Just a few friends and polite (albeit wary) parents. Still, no one stopped them. Why would they? On paper, they were golden: top of their class, on the cusp of extraordinary careers, perfect on résumés and holiday cards alike. They were a match made for every ambitious Linkon parent's dream.

For Mona, it had felt less like a choice and more like fate. They were two stars caught in the same orbit that grew closer and closer until it inevitably collided. The problem with celestial collisions, of course, is the aftermath.

For a while, it was beautiful. They were building something together. They had a rhythm, parallel lives moving toward the same horizon. But they didn’t know themselves yet, and love without identity can only get you so far before your marriage started to feel like something created together, so much as something they survived.

Residency. Fellowships. Parenthood.

There was no room to pause. No time to breathe, let alone reflect. Just the next shift, the next case, the next tantrum. They triaged everything, even each other. Function kept them afloat, but there was no space left for softness. It didn't just happen suddenly; it was a slow moving erosion, chipping away at them little by little as time passed by without them realizing it until the damage became too much.

Amara was born when they were twenty-five. Holding her for the first time was the only moment Mona had ever felt time stop. She was perfect. And terrifying. And nothing had prepared her for how deeply she loved her.

Mona thought if she could just keep the ship afloat, they would eventually outlast the storm. She was wrong. They loved each other, yes, but their entire life had become urgent for so long that neither of them remembered how to simply sit in the same room and just be with each other.

They stopped being curious. Stopped asking each other the small, big questions. How are you? What do you need? They became excellent co-parents and efficient housemates, but as lovers? They were a hopeless case long before the papers were signed.

They were both problem-solvers, trained to fix what was broken. But feelings don’t behave like patients. They bled differently; in ways neither of them ever really knew how to handle. There was no textbook, no guide, no instruction on how to deal with them.

Mona had always been the type to swallow her grievances whole, mistaking silence for composure. But silence isn’t peace. Some part of her always kept score. And when things got hard, that part rose like a tide dragging old hurt to the surface, demanding retribution for wounds that were left to fester.

Zayne, in contrast, retreated when emotions grew complicated. He just... vanished. Turned inward when the words didn’t come, folding into silence like it might shelter him from the weight of unresolved issues bursting at the seams. Where Mona calculated, Zayne concealed. Two flawed defense mechanisms that left them stranded on opposite sides of the same silence.

“Every time I asked what was wrong, you said you were fine,” he told her once. Not in anger, but in resignation. “So I stopped asking.”

And it gutted her, because it was true. They were too alike in all the wrong ways. Brilliant. Proud. Terrified of needing too much. Neither of them knew how to lean on the other without feeling like they were failing. They had spent so long being exceptional that admitting they didn’t know how to be married was unbearable. It further destroyed her when she realized that both of them had turned into unrecognizable people. Zayne was no longer the inquisitive, cheeky, affectionate person he used to be, and Mona had lost her spark so much she felt like looking like a stranger in the mirror every time.

As Amara grew, their fractures widened. Her presence wasn’t the problem, though. If anything, she was their brightest light and the best part of them. But parenthood amplified every fault. Mona’s relentless standards became suffocating while Zayne’s guilt made him disappear into himself, and it was starting to clearly affect Amara. Her signs of upset and emotional distress whenever arguments happened were the first red flag that made them sit down with themselves. Their daughter became both salvation and reckoning.

Mona would find herself staring at their daughter's sleeping face some nights, tracing the slope of her nose as she whispered silent apologies with grief that weighted her heart. How had they create this perfect, wonderful, breathing thing together and somehow still lost each other?

Their end was death by a thousand cuts rather than one fatal blow: a forgotten anniversary, a birthday celebrated late, the evening she sat in their spotless kitchen, staring at the calendar where Date Night! had been crossed out for eleven weeks in a row.

Signing the divorce papers had been the most civilized thing they had done for each other. It was an act of mercy. Nevertheless, she cried when she got home. Not the graceful kind. The kind that locked your lungs, cracked your ribs, and left you with a headache that lasted for days.

“We didn’t fall out of love,” Zayne had said during one of their last arguments, voice cracking. “We just never stopped being kids playing house. And it got too much.”

And wasn’t that the cruelest truth? They had built a life together like children stacking blocks. No foundation, just the dizzying height of their ambitions and impulsivity. Mona had mistaken endurance for intimacy, had believed if she just worked harder and performed better, the fractures would seal themselves. She hadn’t realized Zayne was drowning too, his silence not indifference but a cry for help she had been too exhausted to hear.

And maybe that was the tragedy of it all: they did it all too soon. They tried to be everything for each other before they had figured out how to be anything on their own.

Prodigies, after all, are always praised for what they can do. Never for who they are.

After the divorce, Mona didn’t fall apart the way she thought she would.

The year after unfolded like a slow exhale of relief. For so long, she had sprinted toward every milestone: medical school at fourteen, marriage by twenty-two, motherhood at twenty-five, and chief of pediatrics before thirty; only to wake up one morning and realize she never paused to ask herself who she was outside of these titles. The unraveling of her marriage, as painful as it was, became the unexpected beginning of something else entirely: her own becoming.

There were nights when the silence in her apartment felt like a gnawing reminder of her failure, or when someone casually asking about Zayne's presence struck her like a blow to the ribs. But there were also mornings when she woke up and realized she could just be. Not someone’s wife. Not someone’s anchor. And certainly not someone trying to patch something long past mending. Just Mona. And that was a novelty she hadn’t known she craved.

So here she was at thirty, gradually learning the art of solitude. Not the hollow loneliness of those final years with Zayne, where they moved around each other like ghosts, but a quiet companionship with herself. The kind that felt like a rebirth.

She read novels she never had time for. Reconnected with old friends over wine and laughter that didn’t feel forced. She picked up embroidery again and started making little flowers on Amara's clothes. "Mama, you make the most beautiful flowers," she would tell her. And Mona would cry, not because she was sad, but because her daughter's words and appreciation for this once deemed stupid thing healed something in her. It gave her the courage to finally set firm boundaries with her parents. Not completely cutting them off, but keeping their contact at a minimal. The last straw for her had been when her father blamed her for her failed marriage, implying that if she had been capable enough, Zayne would have stayed. Today, those words would easily roll off her back. A testament to how far she had come.

She started buying herself flowers every Sunday. A small act that felt almost laughable, but it mattered to Mona. To choose beauty simply because she could, and not out of the expectation of having to always keep up with appearances. She even dated, briefly, a fellow pediatrician who made relationships feel like such a breeze. Something that was a contrast to what she was used to. They ended amicably after three months. The remarkable part wasn’t the breakup, but the realization that she could still choose like that. Not because she had to, not because the timeline demanded it, but because she wanted to. It reminded her of how she had once chosen Zayne. Not because he was convenient or approved, but because he was the first thing she allowed herself to want out loud. This time, though, the choosing came from a steadier place. Not a rebellion, not a rush of young defiance, but something gentler. Something like peace.

As for Zayne, he was changing too. They didn’t talk much beyond co-parenting and the occasional overlap at the hospital, but Mona noticed things. The way his shoulders no longer seemed perpetually braced for impact. The suspiciously perfect loaves of sourdough he started sending over with Amara, despite claiming to be a beginner. When he took Amara camping and sent a video, she watched it twice. It was unmistakably him, but softer somehow. There was a lightness in his laugh she hadn’t seen in years. It was like watching the man she used to love and someone entirely new, all at once.

And yet, for all their growth, the past still lingered like a thread neither of them could quite sever. It hummed beneath every shared smile over their daughter’s antics, every polite conversation that edged too close to something tender. A quiet, relentless ache for what was and what might have been. Because the truth was, you don’t just stop loving someone like that.

She told herself it's just the side effects of proximity. That sharing a child keeps you linked in strange, emotional ways and does things to the heart. That working at the same hospital only adds to the illusion. It shouldn't mean anything.

And then came the gala.

Mona hadn’t meant to wear that dress. She had worn it for herself, not anybody else. But when she looked in the mirror, something inside her went still. The memory hit hard and fast: the night she told him she was pregnant with Amara, and how, in hindsight, it felt like the beginning of the end. And when she caught Zayne staring—his gaze lingering just a moment too long—it sparked something warm, traitorous, and wholly uninvited in her chest.

It had been months since she really let herself look at him. But that night, there he was. Zayne, in a tuxedo, nursing a glass of whiskey—something he never did in all their years together, and he seemed to have the tolerance for it too, now—humoring conversations with people she knew he couldn’t possibly care about. When he saw her, his expression faltered for the briefest second. A tell that only someone who used to love him would notice. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the dress. But the way he looked at her—as if she were the only one in the room, as if he still knew her better than anyone—undid her.

Hours later, she was standing outside his door.

She didn’t plan to go. She hadn’t even texted. Her body just moved, guided by something buried under her skin since the day they signed those papers. Dormant all this time, now suddenly awake.

She didn’t know what she wanted coming to his apartment. And she certainly hadn't meant to kiss him. She just did.

Maybe it was the years of restraint collapsing. Maybe it was the way his fingers trembled slightly when he touched her face or how his voice cracked when he whispered her name. But when he kissed her—slow and aching—she knew. Some ties don’t burn out. They smolder. They wait.

It was not gentle. It was not careful. It was two people finally admitting that they were tired of pretending they hadn’t missed each other, even knowing very well they parted for the best.

After, she lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing beside her. It should have felt like a mistake. It should have felt reckless or selfish or confusing, but it didn’t. It felt like coming home to a place she didn't realize she had been aching for.

Still, she didn’t stay the night. She got dressed in the dark, pressed a kiss to his temple, and slipped out while he was deep in slumber.

Because as much as she wanted him—as much as something inside her screamed that this wasn’t finished—she was also afraid. Afraid that they would fall back into old patterns. Afraid that love, deep and devastating as theirs had been, still might not be enough.

In the backseat of a taxi, Mona pressed a hand to her racing heart. She wanted him. But she couldn’t go back if it meant losing herself again. Not this time. A/N: Thank you for reading, and I hope you a wonderful day/night wherever you are <3

[sombrathedragon]

I almost forgot-

warning, LONG

Okay so I’m going to give you as in depth a character summary as possible about the main character of my best friends series, Protector!

all art by said Best Friend, @faymaker

Name: Stella Erebus Busanna

She’s the daughter of Nyx and Erebus! It’s difficult to tell due to the lack of color for this but her hair is similar to the starry night painting by Vincent Van Gogh!

Now for some character details

Growing up Stella was kind of pampered, having loving parents and a closely knit family, never knowing much about the outside world, and never felt the need to as well! Alongside her family, she also had a teacher who would often take care of her, named Azazel, with her coming to see him like family as well

When Stella was 8 years old on her birthday, her parents were taken by what I can only described as a soulless sin against creation itself, during which Stella also was given a horrific scar after trying and failing to fight back, with this monster carving a star shape into her head all the while mockingly singing “Happy Birthday.” During this she also lost her close teacher Azazel, the beast crushing his heart in front of her.

That however was not Azazels end, as he signed a contract for him and Stella so that he shall act as her protector and almost like an extension of herself in many ways

After her parents were taken, Stella was passively raised by some of her siblings, but mainly by Azazel taking care of her, and becoming like a second father to her

She also grew up heavily loving more fantastical media, with them shaping her whimsical nature and her constant optimism, with this optimism being reflected in her goal to one day find and save her parents, and to be like the heroes she saw on TV and in her books

Stella couldn’t quite do much yet however, as she was still a child at this time, and instead would have to continue her childhood, including being taught by her family and Azazel, who luckily were smart people, allowing Stella to still have a solid education because of it.

For 6 years, the only people Stella really knew where her family and Azazel, though she would many tomes go to the surface to buy herself snacks, she rarely if ever was able to connect with others…you can only imagine how lonely that truly makes someone

Her dreams would come to be realized when she was about 14 years old however! With her being scouted by the lovely Goddess Hestia, who offered her enrollment in Altor Academy, a highly respected school where when one graduates, they become a God. Stella eagerly accepted, only realizing shortly afterwards just what agreement she made…AND BEING EXCITED FOR IT.

Finally she could truly see the outside world! Finally she could meet other people! Finally she can…have a chance to find her parents.

When she would get to Altor she would meet all kinds of people! People from all around the globe from every mythology you can think of! To out a cherry on top of it all, she was even made team leader of her group, that she’d go on to name Team Virago!

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get into some of her friends(and other types) mainly her love interest, rival, and teammates!

that she meets in Altor Academy! Starting with possibly the most important one, The Son of Apollo, Solaris Kitrinos!

(Yes, he’s an underaged smoker, there’s a whole backstory to it trust me)

Solaris is our stories deuteragonist! And is Stellas rival, friend, and later, boyfriend!

When Stella and Solaris first met, they DESPISED each other. Solaris saw Stella as nothing but a high class piss ant trying to act like hero, while Stella saw him as a thief who takes from whoever he wants.

Due to both of these people being ever so slightly crazy, this escalated horrifyingly fast, but luckily was calmed down by a character I’ll get into soon after.

The two would often be forced to work together after this as well, with their two teams being partner groups that would do missions together, and over time the two would develop a truce between one another, and overall respect and friendship, soon followed by a mutual crush between each other, which later blossomed into full on romance

I could keep going, but you’d be here all day if I went into every detail about everyone-

A quick fact about him, his best friend is his cousin Malakai Hermalao, son of Hermes and Hecate The Mother(there’s a whole thing with it I promise I or my friend can elaborate if ya wanna know)

Next up, since I mentioned her before. The Daughter of Zeus and Hera, Elizabeth Vermillianos!

She is Stellas “Rival” but in reality she’s more like her role model, everything Stella wants to be and more! At first Stella expected Elizabeth to be hiding something, but quickly realized she’s as genuine a paragon as she puts on, and not just doing an act for others to appear better.

Elizabeth also helped Stella be more comfortable in wearing more “feminine” colors, like pink! With Stella having once acted like she was against the color due to some of the negative stereotypes behind it, Elizabeth soon helped her realize she can easily embrace that part of herself!

Overall, Elizabeth is someone Stella greatly looks up to, and looks up to throughout the entire story!

An interesting fact for her, she uses 3 main weapons! Thunderbolts(separate from her fathers I imagined), a chain whop, and a buster sword!

Next up, Stellas teammates! Starting in order of when I believe she meets them

First up, The Daughter of Huracan, Agua Ribeiro!

These two were fast friends, in part due to them both being very kind and overall outgoing people. Agua acts as the team healer and backfoot of the group(in the literal sense, she full on refuses to use her hands for combat)

She’s a very compassionate person who hates seeing others sad, in part because seeing others happy makes her happy in the process, so she does whatever she can to make others feel happy!

An interesting fact for her, she’s completely fire proof! No kind of fire has any effect on her!

Next up, the daughter of Agni and Svaha two normal people! The totally wasn’t adopted Aiden Yadav!

This gal has a fiery personality whose explosiveness is matched only by her airheaded nature and inability to realize she very visibly isn’t the kid of an irish immigrant! She’s the big attacker of her team and does that role VERY well!

Despite her more fiery, she’s actually pretty nice to be around, and when ya get to know her is a very good friend!

Unless you’re Thana Mikka, then you two are probably like each other’s least favorite sister-

Interesting fact for her! She frequented multiple dojos growing up trying to get stronger, and aside from very very very few, was near unmatched even by her teachers

speaking of Thana Mikka!

The Daughter of Izanami, Thana Mikka

I almost accidentally pressed X at this moment and had a heart attack, luckily I didn’t!

Anyhow, Thana is one of Stellas closest friends! She’s initially very aloof and seemingly unemotional(trust me, there’s lore behind that(and the eye)). She’s actually quite witty when ya get to know her, even if she often accompanies herself with self doubt, she will always do her best to assist her friends so that she never loses them.

An interesting fact, 2 for her, since I know damn well Blaze’ll kill me otherwise!

She used to know a small red demon boy when she was much younger, and often still thinks about him fondly(why am I being coy about this? it adds flair damn it, that’s why!)

She uses a scythe as her main weapon! Not only that however, she is also able to SEE out of the scythe!

And finally, Stellas best friend, Yokka

They’re someone who initially DESPISES the divine(tbh, who wouldn’t?) and was in a state of constant annoyance and anger when they joined Team Virago initially. However, Stella chipped away at that demeanor over time, and helped them become a more whole person in the process, overcoming their hate and helping them feel a more complete love for life as a whole, helping them also learn to truly befriend others and enjoy life, instead of living as though everything might end your life, and that you must constantly be on alert.

It’s part of this that then causes Yokka to act as a secondary protector(eyyyyyy) for Stella, and help her also develop more nuanced ideas on others, and how to truly see her role as a protector in the process.

an interesting fact about Yokka, they have an extremely long Katana(iirc about 6 feet) that is made of something known as chaos magic, that Yokka can then separate into 2 smaller katanas made of dark and light magic respectively

they also have a laser eye-

and that’s all for now! depending on how you feel about it I’ll be sure to send more!

Oh, and most importantly, follow @faymaker and look at her art tags for more character designs and artwork!

Oh wow this is actually such a cool story!! :0

I like how she included children from all different gods instead of just Greek gods :]

Although I have a small question. Shouldn’t Stella and Elizabeth already be gods? Because both of their parents are gods :p

But overall seems really neat !!!!

[kikibit]

I thought I lost you (Eric Draven x OC) Chapter 1

Summary: Charlotte's life is a mess and it gets just more complicated as her brother's best friend Eric is back on their lives again. Her annoying childhood friend who suddenly cut her off is now back and it's driving her a little crazy. All the old feelings she has pushed back and forgotten about are coming to the surface again as she tries to make sense of her life and maybe grow up a little.

Warnings: Domestic abuse, mentions of drug abuse

Word count: 2,6k

A/N: I'm starting to post my fic in here too. I haven't written fanfiction in years so we'll see how this goes. This is kind of slow burn and eventually fluffy. I'm also sorry to tell the oc is kind of infuriating and cries all the time. This is canon divergent so Shelly and all that doesn't happen/exist. I also take suggestions and such.

Chapter 2 ∙ Chapter 3

Chapter 1

I’m on the subway at night doing my best not to cry. My hands had stopped from shaking earlier but I was still shaken. I really just want to hold it together until I get inside where I can freely let myself collapse. My shitty boyfriend cheated on me again. I only had time to grab a few things and get out as fast as I could. I had to wait almost 30 minutes for the 1.40 AM tram to come. I had not dressed for the September breeze at all. I had texted my brother that I would be coming but he hadn’t seen my text. When the stop nearest to my brother came, I got off. I let silent tears roll down my face while I walked the 5 minutes to my brother's apartment. I was shivering once I reached the door and realized his apartment had lights on. I wouldn’t have to climb in from the window. I knocked on the door, I could hear laughter and steps coming to the door. Oh shit, did he have some kind of a party? Or a girl over, I thought in horror. The door opened and my brother emerged with a curious look on his face. He furrowed his brows once he looked at me.

“Lottie? What are you doing here?” he asked me confused. I give him an angry and tired look.

“I need to stay here for a bit.” I answered and rushed past him into the apartment.

“Is everything alright?” I hear my brother ask behind me as I make my way inside. I immediately see he has someone over, and horror washes over me when I realize who it is. I’m met with green eyes I had almost gotten myself to forget. My brother’s friend Eric, shit. Once our eyes lock, I see his slight surprise, which is gone as fast, and I’m met with a stoic look. Great.

“Charls?” My brother Chris asks again, sounding a bit worried this time. I drag my eyes away from Eric’s. Why was he here suddenly? I couldn’t let him see me like this.

“I’m alright.” I do my best to sound at least somehow presentable. “I just need a place to stay for a bit.”

I’m met with an awkward silence. “Um… it’s just that… I promised Eric could stay here.” Chris breaks the silence after a while.

I take a deep breath. “Sure. I’ll be out of your hair.” I may sound passive-aggressive but it’s the best I can manage right now. I turn to leave.

“I’ll go.” Eric says suddenly. He grabs his bag and paces to the door, passing me in the hallway.

“No, I’m already leaving.” I try to leave through the door, but Eric blocks my way.

“I said I’ll go.” He towers over me, standing right next to me. But I won’t let him make me feel small. I meet his gaze again; he doesn’t show any emotion, but I just know he’s annoyed. It’s the way it goes between us.

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” I say and challenge him to show how much he dislikes me. I fail to get an actual reaction out of him, but I can see his jaw clench a little.

“Do you?” he throws my jab back at me. My friend Lily has a three-year-old and a morning shift. She would never refuse me, but she does not need my drama. She has been there for me a lot the past months, listening to me cry about my shitty boyfriend Tate and trying to make me understand how he treats me. Bothering her is the last thing I want to do right now, especially since it would take at least an hour to get to her apartment at this time of night. I narrowed my eyes at Eric, feeling annoyance building inside me.

“Let’s all calm down.” Chris says, trying to conciliate. He has always been the negotiator since we were teenagers. “Char, you can just sleep next to me this night. We’ll figure everything out tomorrow.”

I’m not breaking eye contact with Eric. It feels more like a staring contest, and I will win it, whatever this is. Finally, his jaw clenches and relaxes. He breaks the eye contact and turns away. He plops back on the couch and stares at the wall . I still can’t read him at all. I hate how this still gets to me. It doesn’t matter; I need to get my shit together now, I think to myself.

“Char, what happened?” Chris comes up to me with a concerned look.

“I left Tate, he–“ I really don’t want to admit he cheated on me again. Not even to Chris. “I just needed to get out.”

“Did he hurt you?” Chris asks immediately. I don’t know what to tell him.

“No, I just couldn't be there anymore.” Eric isn’t reacting to our conversation, but he can’t also not hear everything, while sitting in the same space with us. I’ve been humiliated enough today without also having him hear about it.

Chris relaxes a bit from my words. “Yes, of course.”, he says reassuringly. He brings me to a hug, and I accept it, feeling I need it. I take a deep breath and feel tears coming to my eyes again. I take a step back before I start crying.

“I’m gonna take a shower”, I say. Chris nods. “There’s towels in the bathroom closet”, he says. I nod back and leave as quick as I can without running. Tears are streaming down my face once I get the door locked. I undress as quickly as I can and open the shower. Finally, I am alone and can let it out. The streaming of water drowns the sound of my sobs that have my body clenching on the bathroom floor.

I’m not sure how long it takes for me to calm down but eventually I get out of the shower. I didn’t really take any clothes with me, so I just pull back my jeans and shirt I had on today. I head to the living room where I hear a conversation.

“Could I borrow something?” I ask gesturing my clothes.

“Sure, let me grab you something.” Chris pauses their movie and stands up to go to his closet in bedroom. It takes him a couple of seconds, so the silence doesn’t get too awkward before he’s back with some sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“We can be done for the night if you want to go to sleep or…do you want to talk about it?” Chris suggests to me.

“No, don’t stop on my account, I won’t be bothered.”

“Okay, sure. Just let me know if you need anything.” My brother takes my hand and rubs his thumb over my hand in a reassuring manner. I simply nod and try to give him a small smile before entering his bedroom and closing the door behind me.

I change into his clothes and plop on the bed . My mind goes to Eric. I haven’t seen him in a couple of years. We hadn’t really hung out after my brother moved out of our parents’ home. Our paths had crossed occasionally, but since he left to rehab I hadn’t heard anything about him. I guess he’s out now. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about that. I didn’t wish any ill on him, but I hated myself how his indifference got under my skin. I could see how he was with others. Warm, open and curious, but all his warmth melts away when I am around. I had no idea what I did to make him so cold towards me, but it kind of drove me crazy and I hated how much I cared. Even after all this time it bothered me, and I just couldn’t forget how we were when we were kids. Everything was simple then, just the three of us. Then suddenly I was too young for them to want to play with me. Everyone told me it was normal for kids their age and all I could do was just accept it, but I just couldn't let go of the hurt.

Even now it made me mad I was thinking about him, when I had a whole fucked up life of my own to worry about.

The light on my phone lit up, tearing me away from my thoughts. It was Tate calling. I roll over and ignore the call, but soon he switches to texting. The texts start to pour in, and they just keep coming. Almost incoherent filth streaming in. He’s obviously drunk. He’s calling me every name he comes up with and pleading me to just come back. I turn my phone off and wrap the cover around me tightly. First it takes effort to stifle my sobs but soon I just weep silent tears until I doze off.

The anxiety doesn’t leave me alone in my sleep. I’m back at our apartment. I get flashes of Tate yelling and pushing me around. The fear comes in waves when I realize I’m not sure what he’s capable of anymore. I try to leave the apartment, but I’m stuck where I am, moving only painfully slowly . I wake up gasping for air. The apartment is dark, and I hear Chris breathing slowly next to me. Yet again I can’t suppress my sobs, so I quickly get out of the bed and leave the room. I do my best to get my breathing in control as I have to move quietly and slowly through the dark apartment, but I have to stop a couple of times to breathe shaky breaths, so I won’t wake everyone up. I turn on the bathroom light out of habit once I step in and close the door behind me. I sit on the toilet and hug my knees.

I hate the situation I’m in. I can’t even cry about it in peace, and it really was my own fault. They told me countless times not to take him back. He was just so nice when he was being nice. On those days I had thought his shitty days were worth it and I could forgive a mistake. Like I hadn’t made tons of those. It really was humiliating to realize how stupid I had been. I wasn’t going to change him; he was the same as all the other shitty boyfriends I had had. And once again I had fallen for it, and I really did think I deserved it. I was the one who put me here and I needed to get it together myself. I just needed to cry about it first.

***

I wake up in the morning light. I turn to look at the time from my phone, but it’s still turned off. I turn it on and notifications stream in making my phone go off without at stop. I even have a text from Lily asking if I’m alright. Tate’s messages wouldn’t end until almost 5 am. My stomach drops when I see his latest text. Half an hour a go he has sent me a text: “I’m calling the fucking cops if I won’t hear from you”. Shit.

“I’m at my brother’s, leave me alone.” I quickly text him.

I leave the bedroom to see my brother, but he isn’t anywhere to be seen. Only Eric on the couch on his phone, like I don’t exist.

“Where’s Chris?”

“At work.” Eric doesn’t look up from his phone. I feel a spike of annoyance. I sigh and walk to the kitchen. I look around in Chris’s fridge. Not really much in there. I make myself a toast and sit in silence, swinging my legs on the kitchen stool. After I’m done I go back into the bedroom and fish out my phone charger. I’m on my phone for only about half an hour when I hear a knock on the door. I don’t move a muscle since it’s not my problem. There’s another knock and I hear steps and an opening door. I don’t bother listening to the conversation and focus on a reddit thread. A raised voice catches my attention.

“Where the fuck is she?!” Fuck.

I get up immediately and come out of the bedroom. Tate is furious. I hurry to the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demand.

“We need to talk.” Tate says sternly. I pass by Eric to face Tate. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“I’m not leaving before you hear me out.” I roll my eyes, but don’t say anything. I know how he gets. I turn to Eric, signalling for him to leave us. His eyebrows are furrowed but his expression goes blank once I look at him he simply stares at me for a second. He leaves without saying anything.

“What is it?” I ask Tate annoyed.

“Just come back. We’ll talk it out. It won’t happen again. I’ve deleted her everywhere, I’ll prove it to you.” Tate plunges into his usual spiel.

“Nope, don’t care.” I say and try to close the door, but he has pushed himself between it when I wasn’t looking. “Babe, you know you drive me crazy. I couldn’t live without you. If you hadn’t been on my fucking case the whole week I wouldn’t-“

“Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you fucked the first thing with a pulse.” I cut him off.

“Babe, don’t be like that. You know we’re good. You’re the one, those bitches don’t mean nothing.” He tries to reach my face with his hand but I back away towards the wall.

“You don’t get it. I. Don’t. Care. Leave me the fuck alone.” I almost hiss at him.

“Charlotte.” He says sternly, like he’s talking to a bad-mannered child.

“Leave.” I say once more. He slams his hand on the wall next to me. I jump at it. Last night is flashing on my mind, reminding me of the signs of escalation with his aggressive behavior.

“Do you think you’ll find anything better, bitch! Now stop this tantrum and come home with me.” He’s inching closer to me, caging me against the wall.

“Fuck you.” I spit my words out and his eyes widen in anger. He grabs my throat. “You fucking whore, you dare-“

“Dude, back the fuck off.” Eric has grabbed Tate’s hand on my throat. He twists it off me and I gasp for air.

“Who the fuck even are you? Are you fucking my girl?!”

Eric doesn’t answer, he simply pushes Tate back and inserts himself between us.

“Just fucking go, Tate.” I yell behind Eric.

“You fucking whore, you dare get mad at me, when you fuck the first guy you can find!”

“Leave. Now. Or I’ll make you.” Eric says simply. Tate is furious, but he’s obviously calculating his chances with Eric who is easily towering over him. I hadn’t thought of Eric as scary before. He was looking gruff now, but I knew him back when he was lanky and shy. He was one of those people you just can’t imagine angry. He was always tall, but he has gotten bigger since I last saw him. Eric doesn’t seem to care to wait for Tate’s decision, he simply pushes him out the door and closes it. I wince a little as Tate kicks the door, but my body relaxes as I hear steps growing distant. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Tears roll down my face and yet again I am sobbing but this time I can’t hide it. Just as I’m about to look if Eric’s still standing in front of me, I am buried in his chest, his arms around me, stroking my back gently. His white T-shirt is getting soaked, but he doesn’t say anything.

[milayawr]

Stolen Pieces

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: The reader has to steal for her debts, and the victim of her last theft isn't happy about it.

Warnings: Mentions of Pekka Rollins and death.

Word Count: 1,340

Notes: I'm not sure about it but here we go.

+ I decided to use "you" instead of "she/her" and it's a big change for me but i'll do it anyways.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It was a tough decision but you made it years ago when your mother died. You didn't have time to think back then, you just had to. Every weekend, you went to pray for your sins to be forgiven. Stealing was a sin and you had become a sinner. You were living with the need of being forgiven. No one would forgive you if they knew you were the one who stole their important belongings.

But you needed the money as much as you needed forgiveness. Your mother died with debts and after her death, they were all over you. You inherited the debts. Pekka Rollins would kill her if you won't pay all of them.

It was nearly done, your freedom was so close. You could feel it on your fingertips. But it was also hard to do. You had to steal ten thousand kruge in five days. Five days till your freedom or death.

You've made a deal four years ago. You will pay your mother's debts and be free. If you can't pay off all of them before your twentieth birthday, Pekka will kill you.

Pekka had many enemies, and none of them could finish him. He was dangerous as hell.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the wall. Your breath got stuck in your lungs because of how fast you ran. You continued to run until you were certain that you had distanced yourself from the port. Maybe it was a big mistake to steal the most known pirate's money, but it was more than enough to close the debts of your dead mother.

Your mother had you when she was really young. You knew that you were a whole mistake, but your mother had shown you love. She got into debt to feed you, give you a safe house, and help you, her daughter, grow up less pathetic than you were meant to be. You had to close the debts.

The streets were empty and dark. You trusted the darkness more than anyone else because it was easy to steal when it was dead of the night. You hated every second of it and would hate every moment of your future life— if only there would be such a thing.

You checked the bag that was hiding the money. All of them were there. More than ten thousand kruge. You couldn't hide her happiness. You pressed the bag to your chest as you tried to push back your tears. You didn't cry but wanted to cry like a newborn babe cries for the love of a mother. When it's all done, you will spend your whole life praying and seeking the forgiveness of the saints. For four years, you had nothing to do but steal. After all of it, you will be free to seek forgiveness.

The darkness that surrounded her became heavier as you started to walk. You felt her heartbeat get slower, and it scared you. Your eyes were heavier than the darkness, and then you fell into someone's arms. The strong arms of a man started to carry you. Step after step, your sight became darker, and finally, your mind went away for a dreamless sleep.

———

Sounds of wood filled your ears. As your consciousness came back, you kept your eyes closed. You wanted to figure out who had kidnapped you. Someone was walking around. The sound of wood was strange yet familiar to you. You couldn't understand how many people were there. Only the footsteps of someone were loud and clear.

"She's awake." Said a female voice. You started to open your eyes and waited for a headache, but there was nothing but blankness. You couldn't remember how you got here.

"Well, well," this time, the voice belonged to a male. You saw him standing, so you thought it was his footsteps that were torturing the wooden floor of the ship.

The ship.

The realization hit you hard in the face. You were on the ship of the famous Sturmhond. They've managed to catch you and will probably kill you. It was really a mistake to steal from him. Now he will throw you away to the sea and watch the creatures of the sea eat and torture you and laugh while you die.

Pekka sounded very nice after all.

"I am sorry," you stated as you panicked. You couldn't even choose the words that left your mouth.

"So she knows her mistake," Sturmhond said. "Very well." His foot carried him closer to you. Every step of his took a second from your life. "Tolya, Tamar, you can leave us. I have to deal with this beautiful thief that came out of the blue."

They left without any words. Your stomach was against you and started to turn up and down. You were going to throw up because of how you were scared at the moment. "You took your money back, I assume."

"You assume the right thing."

"So I can go now. You know, you took it back and now it is my turn to go."

"No, I don't know, actually." He stepped closer and closer to you. Your eyes sought a sword or anything that could kill you in a second, but there was nothing. Just him and you and the bed you were sitting on. "I want to understand something first. Why would a girl like you steal my money?"

"Maybe because I need it?" You regretted those words, but it was too late. Words hung on the air while regret put an ashy taste to your mouth.

Your soul nearly left your body when you heard a laugh from him. "Yeah, I get that, obviously. But why do you need it?"

You didn't want to tell him about your mother's debts. It was too embarrassing for you. You weren't ashamed of your mother; on the contrary, you were ashamed of yourself. You could have a proper job and have money. But the jobs that were offered to you were not appropriate at all.

"I—" You hesitated, but he waited for you to respond patiently. "I have debts." You cut it short and avoided telling the details to a famous stranger.

Sturmhond just studied you. His eyes observed your face and your expressions closely. "You are stealing for your debts," He said. "Why aren't you finding an easier way?"

Your fear of death changed itself to another thing. Your eyes were filled with anxiety and you were trembling. You pulled yourself back as possible.

"No, you got me wrong," He declared when he saw the sudden change in you. "I meant to offer you a job here, and in exchange, I would pay off all of your outstanding debts. It's not a job in the way that you're thinking."

"Why?" You asked because you knew no good was for free. Why would he want a thief to work with him?

"Because I'm impressed, that's it." He threw the money bag into the air and caught it again. "I want you to work for me and I'll pay your debts. Deal?"

You ignored him to think for a while. It was a great opportunity, but you didn't know if he was serious. What if he was tricking you into some trap? What if he was just trying to give you hope and then kill you with those empty words? You weren't sure about it, but your life was close to the end anyways. There was no way to find ten thousand kruge in five days again. You had the chance, but the chance had turned its face against you.

You had fallen into gambling between Pekka and Sturmhond, and you had to choose one. Pekka would kill you anyways because you lost the money you had. Sturmhond would probably kill you because the money you stole was his. It could be a trap but... You had to choose one of the paths.

So, you decided to play with your unfortunate fate. "Deal."

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Part Two

[honey-minded-hivemind]

The winner is... the 🦈SirenSong!AU! In this au, the platonic yans are sirens, and so is their bby. Sirens in this au have some form of hypnotic power, mainly their voices, which leads to them being persecuted by the humans inland... but on the coasts and islands, sirens are the ones who rule. After all, they can use their abilities to hunt and sell fresh sea food, own special hotels and aquariums filled with colorful and versatile fish and sea creatures, sell their more... "special" skills, such as singing, siren scale trading, and some have magical/mystical abilites/mutations... not to mention the pearl, sea glass, and ancient artifact trade, run and controlled by sirens who are able to explore and collect from the deepest depths of the ocean...

No one is a hero or villain in the super person sense here. They can be labeled as heroic or villainous, but they aren't exactly fighting crime... they all have their own special way of earning a living, and stick to their guns. Some sirens are built differently than others, due to their ability/mutation, their siren tail/type, and where they live. Different types include the reef sirens (colorful, smaller, and fast), the open ocean sirens (bigger, sharper teeth and claws, muted colors), and deep sea sirens (largest there is, eat a lot, can live very long). There are a mix of different patterns and color combinations, but all sirens, when fully submerged in water, have a fishy/serpentine lower half. Depending on the age of the siren, they can hold a human form better, and if young, will have duller teeth and nails, thinner scales, and be smaller than the adult sirens. Sirens are considered a young adult once they've reached two hundred years old (every decade is how they count an age; example being: 2 decs= 20 years old, 4.5 decs= 45 years old, etc.. But, sirens age... kinda slow. The young grow rather slowly, but will look like teens by age thirteen, buuut they kinda stay like that until they reach 200 years old. Thus, why sirens only consider them an adult at that age: because they look/act older, and have enough experience by then to be considered a young adult).

Sirens are protective of their young, which can be called pups or guppies. Nicknames can be near anything, from shrimp and krill, to angelfish and seal, to eel and crab (Note: shrimp and krill are generally used for small/young/scrawny pups, angelfish and seal are generally used for cute/pretty/handsome pups/sirens, and eel and crab are generally used as unsavory words, the equivalent to calling someone a b*tch/b*stard or shrew/jerk). Sirens don't have a lot of pups, due to humans hunting them down and/or using them for their scales, voices, or for meat/as a trophy. This has led to many sirens killing or enslaving humans, as a way of enacting revenge or to hurt humans for their past sins... For this au, you can imagine the platonic yans as anyone from Marvel, but I mainly stick with Avengers and X-Men heroes and villains. In this, I mainly imagine the X-Men heroes and villains (but again, free feel to imagine who you want).

The reader, for this au, has never met another siren. They don't even know anything about siren customs or culture, because they have kept themselves hidden from others of their own species. The reader is young, somewhere between 1.5 decs (15 years) and 2 decs (20 years). They were raised by a human, who took then in when they were able to escape a siren pup trafficking group... But, the reader moves into a siren territory, due to having to hide after their parent dies, and not wanting anyone to discover what they are... Cue the reader ending up in a coastal town, busy and bustling and full of water... and full of platonic yans...

I have ideas for different scenarios, which I will try to do a few, such as if they meet the siren X-Men and/or Brotherhood, what each platonic yan from those looks like in siren form, and perhaps the yans discovering the reader is a siren pup... (And not not mention each group wanting to have the reader, once discovered to be one of them, join their pod/school, staying in the group nest with the other pups... and yes, do expect the adult platonic yans acting like overprotective parents/relatives, and the younger platonic yans acting like possessive siblings... and lots and lots of purring, chirping, clicks, and some soft hypnosis).

This was a honeycomb thought for the 🦈SirenSong!AU!

[orthodoxadventure]

Let us not stop looking for the truth and fullness of our lives

Congratulations on the feast of the entry of Jesus Christ into Jerusalem. Earthly Jerusalem is a city on the map, a geographical location in which we are not physically present. But we all know about the heavenly Jerusalem, where we all want to be. The new Israel are people who chose to follow Christ. By walking out of Egypt, they left behind the world that lay in evil and set out to look for their promised land.

Like these biblical people, we, too, are walking across the desert. We are in a city of two million people, but we are still in a desert. Only rarely can we hear a word that brings life to our spirits, or see life in a stranger's eyes. The world is like a desert. Sin has reduced people’s souls to ashes and sent them looking for a way to fill the spiritual void. They look at the window shops and the billboards. Here is one that advertises a tour to some foreign land. It promises to fly you to the other side of the world, let you lie in the sun, take you shopping, and even let you try some unusual food - all to fill the void within. But this does not help. Noone can fill one’s life with meaning except God.

And so we are on our way to meet Christ. We are going to Jerusalem in Heaven. We have come to Church to begin a new life with God and to defeat death. Defeating death is our foremost task as Christians. We know how fast it is approaching. Doctors and medicines can delay its coming for a while, but what next? Death is approaching, and we are tasked with defeating it. There is only one Doctor who will help. He will heal our immortal souls. People have lost touch with Him; they have turned paradise into a waste dump; they are heading for the graveyard, and are craving for some reassurance and good news.

They cannot find any of these in the world, but the Church has plenty to offer. On Palm Sunday, the people are holding pussy willow branches. They are like small children. They are doing it for God! How could one not be a small child to stand there and shout: “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David Hosanna in the highest heaven!” (Mark 11: 10). But one can look at it a different way. Is not it a waste of time? Would not we have spent it better by making money, or relaxing in front of the television with the choice of fifty channels or so? Or doing something exciting, going out, or simply having a good time? Instead, they are standing there like little children, singing glory to God, living with Him. Will they ever grow up? The wise and strong of this age do not need Christ. They are self-sufficient and autonomous.

But we have nothing of ours, so we are seeking God. Look how weak men are without Him. Someone is having a special day, he is joyful and celebrating when suddenly he has a bad toothache. The holiday is over, and so is the celebration! A tiny vessel breaks in our brain, and here we are - lying flat on our bed, losing our memory and becoming speechless. Just as we are powerless on our own, our capabilities are infinite with Him! We can do anything because we have the living God in our hearts.

We have come here today to honour the living God, the God Who empowers and inspires. It is Him that we must learn from, serve and live with if we wish to defeat death. In only a week, we will become witnesses to His victory over death. We will hear the Church proclaim, "there is no more death!" The Apostle will say, “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15: 55).

I wish that we could all share our rich gifts of joy and life with those who have not found their way to Church this year. I hope that with our whole lives we will show others the beauty of God. Let us speak with our hearts, not with our mouths as we preach it. Let us all have the Lord in our souls, for He has already shed on us all His love. We are inheriting His estate of everlasting life and His Divine blessing that purifies, sanctifies, and renews us. We are accepting this gift from God to be saved. Let us continue to thank Him for His unfailing love that he never stops giving us despite our unworthiness.

Now you and I might say, "If Christ came to Belarus, we would not shout to crucify Him; we would listen to Him.” We are wrong. We are human. Imagine how much we have corrupted our nature to have accepted the crucifixion, derision, and killing of our Lord. There would hardly be more than a handful of is today who will be willing to be servants to the King of Heaven and follow him through the end.

But Christians also realise that God's power is manifest in weakness ( 2 Corinthians 12: 9). Only a few days later we will hear in our readings how the same people who welcomed their Saviour, who glorified Him, spread their cloaks on the road and spread branches they had cut in the fields shouted, "Crucify Him!" (Luke 23: 21).

Disfigured by sin, human nature does not depend on ethnicity, political views, or climate. In this world, we have been taught to bow to earthly kinds and to reject the King of Heaven. He does not bring us the cheap imitations valued in this world, but the genuine gift of His love, tormented and crucified. Let us not shun it, but instead, let us keep looking for the truth and the fullness of our lives until we finally find them.

Let us be thankful to God for all His wonderful gifts to us!

Archpriest Andrey Lemeshonok

[duskspring]

A Picnic and Magic - Ghouls&Human Children

Domestic December- Day 19

Summary: The Clergy hosts a picnic to teach its children about the ghouls

Content (do let me know if I forgot anything!): No dialogue, they/them AND chronically ill Zephyr

Word count: ~1.2k

The Ministry saw a lot of new faces each year. Yes, most new recruits came with the success of the Ghost Project, but there was also a portion of children being born into it by Siblings of Sin. And although some new parents chose to leave the abbey after birth, others wanted their kids to grow up there.

The grounds housed a second, smaller building for families, one where children wouldn’t be exposed to some of the more egregious sinning by accident and where they could attend various classes.

Raising those kids at the ministry did come with a few challenges, mainly their understanding of the ghouls. At first, most kids either didn’t understand or flat out feared them. Thus, the upper clergy had to come up with a solution.

The plan was simple, on one particular warm summer day there would be a picnic for all to attend, where the ghouls would get a chance to interact with the children and try to win them over with the use of their powers.

Although not everyone got to attend. More stoic, quick tempered or sensitive ghouls had been kindly asked to not show up. At least not on that day, but maybe next time. The kids had to be eased into it, you see. Most of them didn’t complain, not minding the lack of responsibility towards the most frail individuals.

Another hurdle came with their masks. A real discussion was raised of if the children would be more afraid of the masks or their glamoured forms. Eventually it was decided into a split, where if there was more than one ghoul representing an element, one of them would be wearing their mask.

Different parts of the grass field were dedicated to said elements. Children were encouraged to visit them all by means of offering a variety of foods and games at each section, as well as a showcase of the ghouls’ powers of course. For every ghoul there was a sign with some basic facts about them, to humanize them further in the eyes of the kids.

At the water section it was just Rain. Although six more (partially) water ghouls walked the ministry halls, all had been deemed either too scary or too… Dewdrop. Still, he was excited to show off a bit, and most of his fellow ghouls came to stand with him from time to time. Especially Ifrit who also stood alone.

He was mostly in charge of keeping everyone cool by, when given permission, summoning splashes of water to spray people with. He did so mostly by conjuring it from his index fingers while he held his hands in gun gestures.

As stated, Ifrit was the second lonesome ghoul. Once again, the other fire ghouls were either too scary or too… Dewdrop.

He was acting like a firebreather, but mostly summoned shapes and letters of fire in the air, spelling out kids’ names, much to their amazement. Although he was the most directly dangerous, he made sure everyone stayed at a safe distance.

Omega and Aether worked together to represent the quintessence element. Phantom had been considered as well, since he mostly came across as harmless, but his packmates knew he would probably get overwhelmed very fast.

Quintessence was a hard element to show off physically, so they mostly helped hurt kids feel better or read their emotions, in an attempt to impress.

Omega was already more well known, helping out families from time to time and having been there for the delivery of most of the children. Many asked to hug him as a familiar, which he never minded. He’d accidentally turned into the posterghoul for all of them; someone friendly and approachable, who would help you out in times of need.

Mountain and Pebble showed off plants and flowers they’d helped grow and even summoned some brand new ones on the spot to hand out. Most children, however, only focused on giggling about their height difference. The smaller of the two was not at all amused at first, but got less annoyed at it throughout the day, while the other kept awkwardly trying to laugh it off.

And finally there was air. Zephyr, Cirrus and Cumulus had been easy picks, since they were already known among adults as nice and calm individuals. As part of the older generation of ghouls, the only missing air ghoul had always been less concerned with being family friendly, although Secondo did drill into his mind that he should try his best not to scare anyone. Still, it was best for him to sit this day out.

The present three worked together very carefully to raise some of the children a little bit off the ground. Their small feet dangled maybe a few inches high at most, but every last one was ecstatic. Most of them ran to their friends afterwards, telling anyone who would listen that they had just flyed.

There was no representation for multi ghouls that day. Copia had tried to explain to Swiss as kindly as possible that his smile would probably scare the kids more than comfort them. And Aurora still hadn’t properly adjusted to interacting with adults, let alone children.

As the day progressed, even some of the more cautious kids had at least admired the ghouls from afar. All parents were very supportive of them, encouraging them to approach the ghouls and telling them they were all friendly.

Every last ghoul had been popular with someone throughout the day. Some kids had jokingly retaliated against Rain by getting their own water guns and it turned into a whole game of him versus the children, where they would oh and ah when he managed to stop a spray midair.

Some other kids had discovered Ifrit’s functionality as a jungle gym, and were climbing up to his shoulders and hanging from his outstretched arms. All the while he stayed very still, treating it as a work out to try and keep them all up.

Omega had already been liked, but when it got time for the kids to go home that sentiment had spread to Aether as well. He’d probably be able to help out in the family infirmary from that point on as well, something he felt immense pride for.

Pebble ended up getting his hair braided by two little girls, summoning flowers Mountain suggested for them to weave through it.

Zephyr had gotten quite a few questions about their wheelchair in the blunt, frankly rude way that children asked questions about those sorts of things. They’d answered them in as simple terms as possible, kindly correcting anyone who had accidentally said something distasteful.

Cirrus and Cumulus had started singing a few songs throughout the day, getting a small choir of children together and helping them sound their best. A few of them asked to receive vocal lessons more often, and although Cirrus was a bit nervous about interacting with such young kids so much, Cumulus was nothing but excited to make it a reality.

Eventually the time came for everyone to go have dinner. The ghouls all got a lot of goodbye hugs, and although the day was a fun success, they were all glad to finally get a break again.

Needless to say, the picnic worked wonders, with the Clergy already trying to plan the next one.

[My Main Masterlist | Domestic December Masterlist]

[animaltasia-au]

Animaltasia character files: Gabriel Layman

Name: Gabriel Layman Age: 20 Species: rabbit, jackalope (Avantasia) Pronouns: he/him Occupation: Monk Year of origin: 1602 Markings: Golden stripes representing optimism, positivity and an acceptance of Avantasia. This is different from Comet's bright yellow but still similar. Origins of markings: Avantasia and in the outside world his own magic when that develops, being a fantasy realm in the back of everyone's mind it is aware of Gabriel's magic. Fur colour: Brown Eye colour: Darker brown, gold (in Avantasia) and golden brown after Avantasia in the real world. Hair: before it was short, spiky and dirty blonde. In Avantasia it is a bright almost orangy blonde thick hair that reaches the middle of his back. After it is a light blonde that he grows out to a similar length.

Personality: Optimistic, forgiving, trusting maybe a little too fast, sees the best in people, overprotective, impulsive, loyal, stubborn. Likes: Space, magic when he learns to trust it, Avantasia, Moonglow (Comet's realm) Dislikes: modern cities, some technology, judgemental people, those who would hurt other people for fun/ Fears: Losing those he cares about, being seen as a burden.

Relations towards the others: Comet: Sibling, they remind him of himself sometimes Scarecrow: Big brother, his protector and hero Ichabod: Father, his caretaker and teacher, he admirers the ease in which Ichabod utilises his magic Aaron Blackwell: Big brother, his good friend and a calming presence when needed

Magic: Translation, when he encounters someone that speaks a language he does not know he can copy their understanding of the language. This magic first manifested when meeting Ichabod so he speaks English with a similar accent and vocabulary. The others think it is adorable.

Backstory: Gabriel was born in a relativly quiet town, sadly his mother passed away shortly after and he was raised by his father and step mother. He has a step sister he likes playing with and the two were inseperable until Gabriel was taken away to the monestary to be raised as a monk. He eventually rose to the rank of novice under his mentor Jakob assisting him with the witch trials. This all went well until he was brought to the next witch to interrogate which happens to be his step sister, a leaf green magical mark on her chin. This filled him with doubts about the order and snuck into the library to see the book he saw his mentor read moments ago. This turns out to be the book they found on the previous suspect, sadly Gabriel was caught and thrown into a cell. His cellmate Lugaid Vandroiy turns out to be the owner of the book and helps Gabriel with understanding it. He asks Lugaid to help him escape so he can save Anna at which the druid reveals he will do so if he saves Avantasia. A realm that sits in the back of everyone's mind as the source of imagination and the church believing it to be evil wants to seal it off. They succesfully break out but Gabriel got injured and there is no way they could reach the door to Avantasia in time so Lugaid tells Gabriel to enter via his mind instead. He succesfully does so and meets the prince of the realm Elderane and his friend Regrin.

Gabriel goes to the evil tower where they plan to use the seals to seal away Avantasia and succesfully steal the seals away, he saves Jakob and Anna sadly losing Lugaid and Regrin in the process. Now he lives in Avantasia with Anna learning about magic eagerly and seeing that having it is not a sin.

Creator's notes: I immediately settled on a rabbit for him, it just suits his vibe and general demeanor. I didn't intentionally give Comet and Gabriel similar magical markings but I think that's cute, happy coincidence I guess. Gabriel is only a jackalope when he first enters Avantasia as the realm changes someone's appearance based on the person's wishes, Gabriel learning of a fantasy realm thusly entered looking like he imagened himself looking like in such a world.

Preview: The sun is setting on a peaceful looking forest as a lone figure makes his way through, a rabbit with floppy ears and brown fur. He looks deep in thought as he walks without really a thought for where he is walking too. He has his sister back now and she seems to take to Avantasia well, eagerly accepting the help for her magic. He briefly stops walking at that thought, his sister has magic which is why she was caught. A distraught expression makes it way on the rabbit's face, how did he ever think that magic is evil? Her sister can heal people and if only she could have gotten help for it earlier then maybe Lugaid and Regrin- No, he shakes his head forcefully, he shouldn't think of that. What is done can no longer be changed, no matter how much he wishes to. Thinking like that will not bring them back and he should look towards the future, like what his magic could be. They said he would likely have magic too especially since he was born with a soulmark, whatever that may be. He will find out eventually he reasons, he just needs to be patient.

[scribeforchrist-blog]

Righteous Devotion to God 

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ Psalm 92:8 But you, Lord, are forever exalted.

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VERSE OF THE DAY 

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+ Titus 2:12 And we are instructed to turn from godless living and sinful pleasures. We should live in this evil world with wisdom, righteousness, and devotion to God, 

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SUBJECT: Righteous Devotion to God 

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM DEVOTED TO GOD 

I LOVE GOD 

I AM FREE

I AM WATCHING MY SHEPHERD 

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READ TIME: 7 Minutes & 32 Seconds

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THOUGHTS:

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    It's tough to turn away from something we are used to doing. Sometimes, it takes us breaking a bad habit or doing something different to get to where we need to be in God. A lot of us are doing some of the old things to get somewhere new in God, and that’s not how it works, and then we wonder why we aren’t growing higher in Christ; we all should take a minute and look at our life and see what we are doing wrong or maybe whatever we use to do , maybe it’s time to start something new in Christ.

   Are we TURNING from godless living, or are we indulging in sinful pleasures? Are we doing what we feel we should do to achieve the most out of living for God?  Today's word says that to live in this evil world, we must do it with wisdom, righteousness, and devotion to God. Who are you devoted to God?

  Many of us are devoted to our cars, a life of sin, and a lifestyle of fast money, but how many of us are devoted to seeing the kingdom of God and doing kingdom work? God is talking to someone today. God is ready for you to turn away from the pleasures of this life and seek him; God is ready for some of us to seek him with our whole hearts because we say it with our lips, but our hearts are so far away from him. 

    How many of you are looking for Jesus and not the money? Some of us are seeking the blessing but not the blessing; how many of you are seeking him with your whole heart??

 God is ready to take some of us higher, but we are still dabbling in our sins; God is saying it’s a new year, let's be different. Some of you are the same people you were 10 years ago, and Jesus is saying come to me, all who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

   How many of you are tired all the time? It's because you are spiritually tired, you are not getting fed, you're not feeding yourself the word of God, nor are you spending time with the shepherd. we need to come to eat the word of God; some of you are too busy quoting things from songs, but what about quoting the word of God? The book of James says we can't be like the man who looks in the mirror and forgets, but many of us are looking and forgetting, crying out, but you're not ready for true change.

     God is ready to change some of you, but you're not ready for it because you don’t want to let go of the things of this world. My friend, the things of this world will break us down, not in a good way; how many of you are ready to change your life? The word of God is a two-edged sword, piercing the soul and sunder . Are you letting it change the way you are, or are you letting it mold you? Are you letting it make you turn from the godless living? Are you reading the word of God just to say you're reading it?

   Psalm 4:3 But know that the Lord has set apart the godly for himself; the Lord hears when I call to him.

   He will hear us when we cry out to him, but we must be willing to hear him when he speaks; change can occur when we allow the power of God to do it. The reason the world is not changing is that it likes what the enemy has to offer: sex, money, clothes, and big houses; they want that life over a life of holiness and righteousness to live in this way; many people find it hard to do they want what they want right now.

  1 John 2:6 Whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked

  If we abide by Jesus , we must walk the way he walked. We can’t hold on to this world and walk in Jesus , and many people think they can, but they can’t. God doesn’t want anyone willing to compromise for the thing here; he wants someone who wants only him and his way; some of us think we can do what this world says to do and then follow God, but we can’t; we must walk in a way God did which was mercy and love. 

   1 Thessalonians 4:7 For God has not called us for impurity, but in holiness.

  We are called to live a life of holiness, not impurity; the things of this world can make you impure because the enemy can use everything, we have against us. Anything can cause us to be impure; it’s up to us to stay away from them because we might find it harmless, but the more we indulge in something, the more the enemy can create a pinhole in our life to come through; we talked about this a few days ago. The enemy is waiting to set us back; the enemy is ready to kill our destiny by aligning us with things and people to turn us away.

   ***Today, we talked about changing and how we are supposed to be holy, and when we live a holy life, we are living like Jesus . We must learn how to walk like Jesus and do as he would. Having mercy on others and loving others are among the few things we should do. The world wants us to be open to the world and its ideas, but we don’t have to do that; we can be open to Jesus and his ideas. 

   Titus 3:3 For we were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, hated by others and hating one another

   We all were once fools and disobedient and led astray and slaves to our passions, but we are no longer this way because of the love God had for us to he sent his son to save us; I’m not saved by myself; I can only be saved through him! Through the blood of Jesus, we are supposed to love what Jesus loves and hate what he hates. Do you hate envy, malice, and hatred towards others? Do you hate what this world stands for, which is the things of the sinful nature ? If you need more of christ today, go after him, and he will show you a better way. ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father, thank you for today. Lord, help us to hear your voice, cancel everything the enemy tried to do. Lord, we give you everything. Help us to hear your voice, lord; we ask for forgiveness for our sins. Please continue to give us wisdom and acknowledgment. Lord, we thank you for what you have given us today; help us to lean on you and not ourselves; in Jesus Name, Amen 

======================

REFERENCES 

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Ephesians 2:2 in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience

 

+ 1 Thessalonians 4:9 Now concerning brotherly love, you do not need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another,

 

+ Romans 6:12 Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal body, to make you obey its passions.

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FURTHER READINGS 

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 Proverbs 13

Psalm 35

Leviticus 8

1 Corinthians 9

Hebrews 5

======================

[simcardiac-arrested]

AKNDMN,S okay so

juts a fair warning this is a very long ramble so like. people reading this be careful you might be stuck here forever because you cant put read more in asks for some reason

I don't have any updated references for Six Silver Stars (the one who's very mad at one guy) so she won't. have any images.

She was created with the idea of mapping stars and planets and stuff so her puppet chamber was built outside of the can and made out of glass with her puppet arm attached to the roof of it. im sure this creates no issues at all whatsoever. anyways the main ancients that monitored her and talked to her did not like them. which im sure doesnt create any issues whatsoever. ive fallen in love with the idea of schools organising trips to visit the puppets of iterators so she made friends with this one kiddo who wasnt super social with the group. kid was often granted permission to visit her chamber and they'd often talk and just bond. kid was part of a fancy-ish family who was very devoted to the void. bring in Unnamed Iterator because i cannot think of a name

art and design not by me by a friend btw.

anyway they were made to bless people and prepare them for the void. like the people felt that they were ready and they pretty much just said 'yeah good luck' and gave them offerings and fancy robes and masks to hopefully make the void favour them slightly. Kids family went 'yeah lets all dip in the void and take our like. 15 year old kid with us this is so cool of us' which then left Stars pretty alone as her ancients often just. blocked communications for her because they were soo amazing(sarcasm) Stars immediately turned all blame onto the guy because its all she really had to blame. she didnt know the parents of the kid and she obviously wouldnt blame the kid so yeah. this guy was the blame.

this guy also worked very closely with Swirling Blossoms, Fading Fast

(again art and design not by me i saw this adopt and my brain went yesss) as they both had similar but different jobs. They made to be a god directly to the ancients, a place of worship, offerings and confessions. she was built with taboos SUPER SUPER SUPER enforced into her code like to an ungodly amount. also was given a lot of 'ancients need help you must help them they dont mean to do anything wrong ever they need help.' again i am sure that this didnt give them any issues surrounding themselves and their ancients at all. both them and unnamed guy communicated a lot and slowly started to date in secret which was Really Weighing on Blossoms because ''dont grow attached to anything thats a sin thats a no no ''

this continued to weigh in on her and like. a little while after the mass accession somehow messages between them got leaked. like not anything gross just typical couple stuff. not sure how this happened yet . but yeah, she was Very Stressed OUt About This despite like no once giving a shit. panic lead to her making dumb desicions and she ended the relationship and isolated herself. a lot 👍

so during this unnamed guy is like acticly trying to fix two relationships, one with someone they barely knew but felt very very bad for and one with their ex.

starts continued to do not very good and was exceedingly pissed at unnamed guy because before the mass ascension her communications were blocked and no one is able to break them or undo them. so like. they were sending scugs back and forth to Stars who was just like "Dude FUCK OFF you fucking killed my kid " and his ex was just sending them back with no response. theyre so fucking fucked over and a sopping beast and theyre not okay.

anyways theres more but this is also like. a brick post thats not very well organized so if youre still interested i might talk more about them in another ask

DIVORCE NUMER UNOOOOOOOOOO

[spectrechosts]

Hell's Belles - Chapter 3

Relaxing and studying sin.

Full Series

"This feels so good…" Grezayla sighed, relaxed.

"I'm glad you like it, little lamb."

"Can… Can I put it in my mouth?"

Lilith rolled her eyes. "Yes, you can eat the lava." She said.

"Just remember to shapeshift it out of you if you swallow it." Tinixi added. "You don't want it to pass through the normal way once it's cooled into a rock."

"Mmmf." Grezayla said, nodding, her voice muffled by the handful of lava she had already shoveled into her mouth.

The lava spas in the lower levels of Lilith's palace were a perfect spot for her to unwind from the stresses of her job, and for her concubines to lounge about in comfort as they pleased. She lay on the surface of the pool, letting its warmth seep into her bones.

"Flash card!" Azaerixia shouted, holding a crude drawing up to Grezayla, who drooled her mouthful of lava out over herself.

"That's a…" Grezayla squinted. "What way is the one on top facing?"

"Oh! Hang on!" Azaerixia said, quickly scribbling hair onto the figure to make it clearer, before holding it up again.

"Reverse cowgirl."

"Correct!" She said, and flopped back down to draw another scene.

"That tasted worse than I expected."

"Did you think molten rock would taste good?"

"Maybe." Grezayla said evasively, scooping more lava onto herself. "I certainly didn't expect it to be comfy, but here we are."

"Watch you don't pile so much on that you sink, Vasselli did that once and it took us a week to find her." Said Tinixi.

"Oh my god, was she okay?" Grezayla asked, and Lilith snorted.

"She was fine. She told us to put her back in, said it was the best nap she'd had in centuries."

"She got sent to Sloth for a few months so they could investigate, apparently none of them had ever thought of it. Got a big soul payout for her 'innovations in the field of napping' when she was done."

"Wow. Must've been some nap."

"Transformation check!" Azaerixia shouted, pointing at Grezayla. "Grow your tongue out to bellybutton length!"

Grezayla grew her tongue out, and out, and out, overshooting her mark before managing to reel it all back in to normal length.

"Dammit!" She huffed.

"You're too focused on the growing." Lilith said, without looking up. "Don't try to make your tongue bigger and then stop, just envision how long you want it to be. You'll get it."

"You can undo it on your own now though, that's good progress!" Azaerixia chirped, and Lilith and Tinixi echoed her praise.

Grezayla shifted her position, dragging an arm out of the pool with some effort.

"I don't know if I could sleep in this." She said, wiggling her fingers. "It'd be too heavy, I like to be able to move around."

"It's not for everyone."

"FLASH CARD!"

"Already? Uhh, standing full nelson."

"Correct! You're getting good at these!"

"I must say, this isn't how I would teach someone sex positions, Azzy."

"No, no, it's effective." Grezayla insisted. "It's the names that trip me up."

Lilith shrugged. "To each their own."

"FLASH CAAARD!"

"How are you drawing these so fast? Doggy."

"Correct! And now that you bring up dogs-"

"Oh, hon…" Tinixi sighed.

"Azzy, dearest, you have to let it go." Lilith said softly.

"I will not! There has to be some way I can keep a dog down here."

"Unless you can communicate with one and get it to agree to give you it's soul, there really is not."

"But why!? Why do they all go to heaven?"

"I don't think it's that they all go to heaven so much as none of them go to hell." Grezayla said.

"Why not?! There has to be at least one sinful dog out there!"

"No, because like, animals don't have the capacity to sin. Only humans."

"Cats can sin." Tinixi said. "They learned how like, a couple hundred years back."

"What?"

"Cats can sin." Azaerixia agreed, nodding.

"That- No they can't. That doesn't even make sense."

"I don't know what to tell you, they're definitely down here. They have the capacity to know they're doing something sinful and do it anyway." Tinixi said, shrugging.

"What. But-"

"You want something that'll really confuse you, little lamb?" Lilith asked, smiling smugly. "So only humans can sin, because you're descended from Eve, who ate the fruit of knowledge and in doing so learned ~right from wrong~, and thus the capacity to sin, yes?"

"Yes?"

"Okay." Lilith said, showing her teeth. "Explain why I'm in hell."

Grezayla thought for a moment, narrowing her eyes.

"Wait, why-"

"Uh-huh."

"Because you aren't-"

"Uh-huh."

"And you didn't eat-"

"Nope."

Grezayla put her hands to her temples.

"What the fuck."

"Sorry little lamb, but the old man just throws whatever he feels like down here. No rhyme or reason to it." Lilith said, relaxing back into the lava.

"So…. Maybe dogs eventually?" Azaerixia asked, hopeful.

"Maybe. Eventually."

"Yesssss. Also flash card."

"I don't understand what I'm looking at."

"Okay, so these two are staying perfectly still after putting the dick in, and this one is jumping on the bed they're all on-"

[illarian-rambling]

For the WIP/OC Ask Game:

What's the deal with that evil desert?

How does magic work?

And feel free to ramble about your favorite characters and their most curious details!

Hi there!

I answered about the desert here, but I'll be happy to tell you about magic!

Magic on Illaros spills from a mysterious dimension known as the Veil. Different shapes will draw it out in different forms, much as different keys will unlock different doors. Some of these shapes are fire or ice. Others are more complicated, like memory reading and matter degradation/transportation/assembly (aka teleportation). People who learn to draw and harness these different shapes are known as rune scribes, or simply mages.

Sorcerers are where it gets a little funky. They are born with enzymes in their blood that are shaped in a way to allow the Veil to spill through into the sorcerer’s body. With their divine soul, they are able to manipulate this magic using simple, rune-adjacent shapes formed with their hands, called sigils. It's much faster than drawing on the Veil by drawing runes, but sorcerers suffer from exhaustion, migraines, nausea, and any number of physical ailments when they use up too many of their enzymes, though the enzymes do grow back eventually.

In addition to these two, there's also alchemy and divine magic. Alchemy uses magically mutated creatures to create potions, while divine magic involves people asking the gods to pretty please loan them a miracle. Divine magic is the most powerful form of magic, however, only a very select group of people can wield it.

There's also rotting magic. This isn't a type of magic someone can wield, but a natural effect. When magic stays too long untethered to a spell or rune, it will start to decay in a stream of microscopic particles. The people of Illaros call this sorcerer’s poison, but we'd call it radiation. They call it sorcerer’s poison specifically because sorcerers can draw on the rotting magic of their previously cast spells even when they're out of enzymes, though it has a chance of killing them via something akin to very fast radiation sickness.

There's a bunch of other weird stuff going on too, but I think I'll leave it at that ;)

The character that's been on my mind lately isn't one of the main cast, but instead a side character in MG3. Marius Montane is the younger brother (15 years younger) of Antonin Montane, the patriarch of the Montane family bank and father of Ivander Montane.

Marius was only 20 when Ivander’s mom disappeared, and since Antonin had more important things to do, he sort of took it upon himself to raise the boy after that. I'd say he did a decent job, all things considered. Marius was also deeply traumatized by the Montane family atmosphere, and 20 is not very old to be raising an 8 year old. Soon after, people made a run on Marius's bank, and he received a portion of Timaz's curse as punishment (the same, flesh-to-mist stuff Ivander has going on, but just on his leg). He trained Ivander strictly in hopes of keeping him safe from the curse, and the pain often made him irritable, so he wasn't always the softest of caretakers. His wife, Parva, helped too, but she died by the time Marius was 30. The pairing was an arranged one, so they were never in love, but they were quite friendly. Marius used his grief for her as an excuse to never remarry, as the Montanes are pretty keen on producing blood-related heirs, and that man is gay as the day is long.

He's just a really tragic character, all in all. After Ivander left, he thought about following, but could never work up the courage. He lives in terror of his brother. I think that's one of Antonin's cardinal sins; being the sort of man his little brother is afraid of. But don't you worry. Marius will get his moment :)

Thanks for the asks!

[your-divine-ribs]

Pure Part 1: Summoning

Words: 2.4k

I’m going to start posting this story here too since I’m hoping to carry on updating it soon // This is a supernatural/demon AU/dark love story (it’s deffo not all sex!) // I wanted to try my hand at writing something different, hope you enjoy it if you’ve not read it yet 💜

Pure Masterlist Main Masterlist

My mum had always warned me about boys. Bad boys. Boys that would lead me astray. Boys who were 'only after one thing'. That 'one thing' however, she never elaborated on.

Sex wasn't something that was discussed in our household ever. I was glad my friends at school had filled me in on the mechanics in my earlier teenage years because I was certain that my mum would have done everything in her power to make me go on believing that the stork dropped off bundles of joy into new mothers' adoring arms. I was inquisitive though, and as much as I grimaced and winced and cringed my way through my eager friends' blow-by-blow accounts of what went where and who did what to who, the flush on my scorched cheeks matched the curious heat that simmered between my thighs.

Things haven’t really changed as I’ve matured. I’m still that quiet, timid, mousy girl that I'd always been growing up, still too shy to talk to boys and convinced that any kind of engagement in anything remotely sexual outside of wedlock is tantamount to sin... as is the very act that I'm committing now... secretively getting ready for an illicit night out with my best friend and partner in crime Freya whilst my unsuspecting parents sleep soundly in the room next door.

For Freya that preparation involves rolling up the waistband of her already short skirt and painting on the sort of make-up both of our parents would never approve of. For me it consists of simply psyching myself up. I don't have the confidence to pull off a provocative outfit or make myself up to look like someone I'm not, so I settle instead for trying to calm my fast beating heart and taking deep breaths whilst I smooth down the non-existent creases in my pretty little sundress as a distraction.

"I can't believe you're actually going out in that dress."

Freya's voice is disbelieving as she breaks away from applying a slick of cherry red lipstick in the mirror to glance across at me sitting there stiffly beside her at my dressing table.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" I ask in dismay, examining the soft baby pink material for a stain that I might have missed or a tear in the fabric. "It's a pretty dress isn't it?"

Freya sighs but quickly chases it up with a giggle, shaking her head, her blonde curls cascading around her shoulders. "Yeah, it is pretty, and that's exactly what's wrong with it."

"What do you mean?"

My brow automatically creases into a frown of puzzlement that I know I should probably try to hide but I don't, even though I feel naive and unworldly-wise next to Freya who I'm sure is bound to blend into the sleazy world that awaits us so much more seamlessly than I ever will.

"Well..." she starts, adopting her know-it-all tone that instantly makes me feel even smaller. "You look like you're going to Sunday school rather than drinks in a bar..." She smirks, dropping her lipstick into the clutch-bag on her lap and leaning over to me, fingers fussing with the neckline of my dress. "You need to look sexy, not sweet. Can't you at least undo some buttons or something?"

"Freya!" I cry out, knocking her hand away to quickly fasten the buttons she's undone, feeling my cheeks warming already. "I'm not going out half undressed! You're lucky I'm going at all, so let me wear what I like, how I want to wear it, okay?"

Freya rolls her eyes theatrically. "Okay, okay, but please tell me you're going to take that off before we go." She reaches for me again, fingers grasping the small silver crucifix pendant nestled in between my collar bones, turning it over in her palm as her eyes flick up to mine. "Makes you look like a nun or something!"

I pull away quickly, the necklace falling from her grasp. I reach up to touch it, comforted by the familiarity of the symbolic jewellery, feeling defensive. "But I never take it off. I've only ever taken it off once since my mum gave it to me and that's because the chain broke. I don't care what people think. I like it."

I'm a Christian and I'm proud of it, I love God and I'm not embarrassed to talk about religion like Freya seems to be now she's gotten older and developed a reckless, wayward streak. Both of our families are devout, regular church-goers so I've just been brought up that way. We actually met each other at Sunday School.

Freya smirks but bites her tongue, turning back to her reflection to apply another coat of mascara.

"Eve... we're going to bar called The Inferno for Christ's sake. Do you want to blend in or stick out like a sore thumb?"

"It's just a bar," I say, slicking on a thin layer of barely there pink lipgloss and smacking my lips together lightly. "Sure it's not going to be full of satanists and devil-worshippers!"

Freya immediately starts sniggering and then I'm laughing too, any animosity between us both disintegrating in an instant. "That wouldn't actually be a bad thing," she laughs, nudging me with an elbow. "They'd probably be a bit more exciting than the boys from church... especially Jamie, hey?"

"Ughhh..." I feel my face automatically scrunch in distaste at the mention of the boy who's been pursuing me doggedly for years, in no way deterred by my constant rebuffs and blatant disinterest in him. "He's such a creep. Did you see how he was looking at me last Sunday when I dropped the hymn book and had to bend down in front of him to pick it up. He's disgusting!"

"You think all boys are disgusting!" She teases. "You do realise that taking a vow of celibacy's not essential just because your mum wants to keep you sweet and innocent forever, don't you?"

I huff at that, cheeks warming as my friend's words hit a raw nerve that I hadn't realised was so sensitive and exposed. I try to cover my embarrassment quickly, hoping to distract her from probing deeper down an uncomfortable path of discussion that she's sure to take if she senses my discomfort.

"I just have taste that's all... and I wouldn't go with Jamie if he was the last man on earth. I'd rather..." I trail off, trying to decide on a suitable alternative, a thought popping into my head that makes me grin widely as I say it. "I'd rather sell my soul to the devil than go anywhere near him... I mean it!"

Freya's eyes sparkle with something playful and mischievous, a look I know so well on her, and more so recently. "Innocent little Eve? Selling her soul to the devil? Bet he'd love corrupting an angelic little thing like you! Can you imagine?"

"Stop it Frey," I giggle, turning my attention back to the mirror, wondering whether this is the start of yet another of our sordid chats about boys that are becoming commonplace. I feel a familiar warm glow erupt low down in my gut at the thought, memories flooding me of how I'd dipped a curious hand under the waistband of my panties the night before whilst I'd lain in bed alone. I'd spent the evening preceding that with Freya, listening on rapt as she'd told me about a house party that she'd attended the week before. The fact that she'd let a boy she'd only just met lead her upstairs to one of the bedrooms and pin her up against the wall, a seeking hand snaking up her skirt to slip inside her underwear. The toe-curling pleasure she'd received as he'd pumped his fingers into her slow and deep whilst raining hot kisses on her neck. The images her account had conjured up had seared themselves quite intrusively into my brain, spurring me on to seek that sort of pleasure myself, but I'd soon grown embarrassed and shameful of my actions. Despite what Freya said, the notion still plagued me that any sort of sexual fulfilment should be between husband and wife, just like my mum had drilled into me over and over and over again. In the end I'd sighed and turned over in bed, screwing my eyes shut and trying to block out the sleazy thoughts, eventually drifting off into a restless sleep.

I come back to the present day quickly to see Freya still smiling as I steal a glance at her, her plump red bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she shakes her head. "Oh Eve... what am I gonna do with you, eh? You really need to loosen up and start enjoying life."

"But I am enjoying life!" I protest, more than a little disgruntled that she believes that my life is in any way lacking without the addition of carnal pursuits. "There's more to life than sex you know!"

Even uttering the word draws colour to my cheeks, making Freya's grin widen. "I'm not just talking about sex... just in general."

She suddenly looks away, reaching up for one of the small votive candles I have arranged on my bookshelf. "I've got an idea!"

I watch on as she delves into her bag and produces a lighter, resisting the urge to lecture her about smoking, too curious to see what she's up to. She lights the candle, setting it down on the table in front of us both and then picks up my nail scissors, pressing one of the sharp blades against the pad of her forefinger, drawing a shiny bead of fresh blood.

"What the hell are you doing?" I cry out in shock, instantly slapping a hand over my mouth at the thought of waking my parents.

"Shhh," she whispers, her voice low and mysterious, drawing me in. "You ever played Wake The Devil?"

I lean in closer, puzzled at her bizarre actions, unease simmering inside at her words. I'd heard plenty about silly games the kids used to play at school, chanting Bloody Mary into the mirror to conjure apparitions from the other side and dabbling with ouija boards and the occult. With my strong religious beliefs I'd always been a bystander and never taken part, firmly believing that summoning spirits was wrong and a dangerous game to play. I believed in God, so in contrast the Devil must therefore exist, and those dark forces should be left well and truly alone.

"I really don't think we should be meddling with..." I begin, but my friend cuts me short, looking at me in exasperation.

"It's just a bloody game," she laughs, a little condescendingly which makes me feel foolish. "C'mon, it'll be a laugh. We can do it together... maybe even renew our blood sister vows while we're at it, eh?"

That makes me smile as I recall summers of the past where we'd been just two carefree young girls, an incident where I'd fallen climbing a tree and cut my hand deeply. I'd been distraught at the time to see so much blood welling from the gash but Freya had distracted me in that chaotically endearing way she'd always displayed in times of need, picking up a sharp rock and slicing her own palm so I didn't have to suffer alone. I can still remember the daft rhyme she'd made me recite as we'd pressed your hands together in a pact to become 'sisters in blood', the small jagged scar I still bore evoking a fond memory whenever I looked at it.

"Oh, go on then... I'll do your silly ritual if it shuts you up!" I laugh, a hush falling on the room as she passes me the scissors, urging me to follow suit and pierce my skin in the same way she had done.

I grit my teeth as I press the small blade to my fingertip, watching the skin yielding as I flinch, a glossy drop of blood immediately forming there. "What now?" I ask, holding my finger up carefully so I don't spill blood on to my dress.

"Well, firstly you have to let a drop of your blood fall on to the flame, then you have to say the words." She pauses for effect, eyes narrowing. "You have to summon him... the devil himself."

A nervous giggle bursts from me as I try to hide the fact that I'm genuinely apprehensive. My mother's superstitious demeanour has definitely rubbed off on me throughout the years despite me trying to reason that folklore and myth are just fanciful notions.

"Well go on then... what're the words?"

Freya leans in over the flickering flame of the candle, twisted shadows dancing across her features in the dim lighting. I realise I'm holding my breath, a crackling tension in the air.

"Blood flow warm, fire burn bright

I summon thee from hell tonight

Hear this promise that I make

A soul that's pure for you to take"

"Oh," I breathe, swallowing deeply, a tiny tremor of foreboding shooting up my spine. "So what happens after?"

The cackle that bursts from Freya is loud and shrill and I dig her sharply in the ribs for being so noisy. "Well the devil appears and ravishes you of course!" She laughs. "Oh god, you should see your face, you look absolutely terrified! Of course nothing happens silly! What did you expect?"

The eerie atmosphere dissipates in an instant and I internally scold myself for getting so wrapped up in a childish game. I reach over and squeeze my finger over the candle, letting a small drop of blood drip down on to the flame which sizzles hungrily like it's being fed.

"Well it wouldn't really be a surprise for nothing to happen to you," I tease. "Your soul's far from pure!"

"Ouch!" Freya retorts, feigning offence as she lets her own finger linger over the flame.

We both look into the mirror, faces lit up gold in the flickering light, voices soft and hushed and almost reverent as we recite the words in unison...

"Blood flow warm, fire burn bright

I summon thee from hell tonight

Hear this promise that I make

A soul that's pure for you to take"

[bitterarcs]

Combat has always excited Reno even if he wasn't classically trained in martial arts until he was fifteen — when he was actually batting the idea around of joining ShinRa's ranks. His innate allure towards combat ( which is essentially violence ) does not stem from positive history, naturally. People seek combat and seek to excel in it to either hurt others and protect themselves from being hurt . . both apply to Reno. In order to survive the slums and to not bee hurt again and again, he took to fighting quickly as though it came with the same ease as breathing. Maybe it does for children who have been beaten down, or perhaps Reno was born with that spark, that naturally tendency that takes to violence. In one way or another, he's been actively fighting since the age of eight, mostly defending himself when he was that young, then moved forth to hurting others back.

From an early age it wasn't just about the necessity of fighting, Reno did actually enjoy it. Not only did he enjoy being the victor in the fight, he has always enjoyed watching other people fight; this is how he learned a lot of interesting techniques growing up into his teenage years. At around the age of twelve, Reno began fighting for sport — making or losing some fast gil in sin dripped hell holes for back alley gambling. Reno was always scrappy and quicker than people expected but not particularly strong. At fifteen, when the prospect of being something more than a shit head street kid drew him towards ShinRa, he actively sought to be trained in mixed martial arts. Some techniques he learned on his own, however the bulk of very technical skills was learned from a variety of experts. He also took measures to bulk up his weight and gain real strength.

Being accepted into the Turks was validation that what he was doing was right. Although everything about Reno comes off as lazy, there are barely any things in his life which actually are lazy. If he's not in the field kicking ass, he's at the various gymnasiums at ShinRa HQ to keep in shape and keep developing his skills. When someone wants a challenge or is unaware of his vast skill set, Reno loves sparring other ShinRa employees. Just like taking down enemies, there's a tremendous thrill bringing a fellow comrade into submission. Reno doesn't consider himself a sadist, but he does have both sadistic and masochistic tendencies, more so with the former. A really good and bloody fight can get him excited. He can't imagine a life without combat.

038. — combat @poeticphoenix

[steveezekiel]

AUTHORITY OF THE BELIEVERS

18 NOW in the morning, AS HE [Jesus] RETURNED TO THE CITY, HE WAS HUNGRY. 19 And seeing a fig tree by the road, He came to it and found nothing on it but leaves, AND SAID TO IT, “LET NO FRUIT GROW ON YOU EVER AGAIN.” Immediately the fig tree withered away." Matthew 21:18,19 (NKJV)

The above Bible passage talks about the prophetic or possessing prayers. In the passage, Jesus spoke prophetically to the fig tree and it withered.

If you are genuinely born-again, walking in righteousness, or living a holy life; walking in the light of the Word of God, fast periodically, and pray often, your words would be weighty—cause things to happen, both in physical and spiritual realms.

Your depth in God, your relationship and communion with Him, determines how powerful or strong your words are in the spiritual realm.

You have Authority in Christ Jesus, If you are genuinely born-again—saved: "BEHOLD, I GIVE YOU THE AUTHORITY TO TRAMPLE ON SERPENTS AND SCORPIONS, AND OVER ALL THE POWER OF THE ENEMY, AND NOTHING SHALL BY ANY MEANS HURT YOU" (Luke 10:19 NKJV).

God will not honour the word spoken by someone who lives in Sin, and contrary to His Word. If you keep yourself from Sin, you will become an authority in the spirit realm (2 Timothy 2:19,20-22).

If also you walk in close relationship with God, you would dominate on the Earth. The Authority given to the Believers in the world, is meant to rule and dominate and propagate God's Kingdom on earth.

Through the authority you had in Christ Jesus, you subdue the earth. You occupy and take over for Him!

Everything can hear!

Both the animate and the inanimate objects can hear the Word of God that is declared in the name of Jesus Christ: "AS A RESULT, when people hear Jesus' name, they must worship him. EVERYONE WILL HAVE TO GO DOWN ON THEIR KNEES IN FRONT OF HIM. THAT INCLUDES EVERYTHING THAT IS IN HEAVEN, EVERYTHING ON THE EARTH AND EVERYTHING UNDER THE EARTH" (Philippians 2:10 EasyEnglish Bible).

The trees can hear. The land can hear. The cloud or firmament can hear. Whatever has a name can hear. Thus, speak to whatever thing, in the name of Jesus Christ, and it would be or manifest As you have declared It.

In the kingdom of darkness, the devil and those who are assigned by him, could manipulate things to work against someone. A car can be manipulated to malfunction, and work against the person who has it. The people with demonic power can manipulate either animate or inanimate objects to work against whoever they intend to attack.

However, the believers are not left uncared for, you have the authority to counteract; annul, cancel, make ineffective or restrain or neutralize whatever they did. God has given you power, authority as a Believer in Christ, to speak and call things as you want them to be (Luke 10:19).

Elijah, who was a man of like passion, a human like you and I, Said, it would not rain for three and half years, and it was established (James 5:17,18).

You have the power to declare things to happen, If you have faith in God, and walk in close fellowship with Him: 21 SO Jesus answered and said to them, “Assuredly, I say to you, IF YOU HAVE FAITH AND DO NOT DOUBT, YOU WILL NOT ONLY DO WHAT WAS DONE TO THE FIG TREE, BUT ALSO IF YOU SAY TO THIS MOUNTAIN, ‘BE REMOVED AND BE CAST INTO THE SEA,’ IT WILL BE DONE. 22 AND WHATEVER THINGS YOU ASK IN PRAYER, BELIEVING, YOU WILL RECEIVE” (Matthew 21:21,22 NKJV).

Your word would be an empty word, If you had no intimacy or good rapport with God. The joy of being a Christian, being a child of God, is having your words obeyed, when you speak. Such is a Blessing of God!

If your words as a leader are being flouted, it means you are not where you supposed to be in your walk or relationship with God; probably you are far away from Him, in fellowship and communion.

There are some Believers who seek to be used of God, but they seek not to experience the person of God. In other words, they seek not to have an encounter with God. They had no fellowship with Him!

When you experience God, you had an encounter with Him, miracles would be part of your life: "AND THESE SIGNS WILL FOLLOW THOSE WHO BELIEVE: IN MY [Jesus'] NAME THEY WILL CAST OUT DEMONS; THEY WILL SPEAK WITH NEW TONGUES" (Mark 16:17 NKJV). a. Signs and Wonders will follow you. They would be part of your life and ministry. b. His presence will be with you. You cannot have or carry His presence and be void of power for signs and wonders. The presence of God in your life compels the devil and his agents to bow and obey the words you declared in Jesus' name.

Your weightiness, or the authority you had, in the spiritual realm makes you dominate in the physical realm.

If you do not have any spiritual authority, you cannot rule in the physical realm. The spiritual realm controls the physical realm; and to dominate in the physical, you need to be an Authority in the spiritual realm.

The Power of God in the realm of the spirit is gotten through the new birth; being born-again, the baptism of the Holy Spirit, walking in the light of the Word God, the consistent prayer and fasting, and the obedience to other spiritual principles of the Kingdom.

As you speak from now onwards, your words will not fall to the ground in Jesus' name (1 Samuel 3:19).

I speak and command that the mountain-like problem in your life, be moved in Jesus' name. And that burden in your heart is lifted in Jesus' name.

Should there be any ailment in your body, I declare your healing now in the mighty name of Jesus Christ. Peace!

STEPS TO SALVATION

Take notice of this: IF you are yet to take the step of salvation, that is, yet to be born-again, do it now, tomorrow might be too late (2 Corinthians 6:1,2; Hebrews 3:7,8,15). a. Acknowledge that you are a sinner and confess your Sins (1 John 1:9); And ask Jesus Christ to come into your life (Revelation 3:20). b. Confess that you believe in your heart that Jesus Christ is Lord, and that you confess it with your mouth, Thus, you accept Him As your Lord and Saviour (Romans 10:9,10). c. Ask that He will write your name in the Book of Life (Philippians 4:3; Revelation 3:8).

If you took the steps As highlighted above, It means you are saved—born-again. Join a Word based church in your area and Town or city, and be part of whatever they are doing there. Peace!