#and how in response to both of those i just became even more obstinately myself.

[myxinidaes]

I think a lot about how a girl chafing against and actively rejecting the gender roles enforced upon them when they were young has been labeled internalized misogyny.

if you hate pink because you were forced to wear pink when you were younger bc thats what little girls wear? internalized misogyny, according to the internet. if you hate dolls because you got in trouble for wanting to play with dinosaurs and cars? internalized misogyny, according to the internet. if you resent the beauty industry and the way that in order to be seen as a human if you're not conventionally attractive, you need to redraw your face to fit constantly shifting beauty standards? internalized misogyny, according to the internet.

beginning to think that the average internet user doesn't know what internalized misogyny is! beginning to think that you all are unable to think critically about the world we live in and how our identities are used to sell products and enforce gender roles!

[jasperwhitcock]

wait.. hold awn... your edward POV is so good??!! i honestly prefer your edward pov than stephenie's because you make his angst/humor not sound cringy at all, your also very descriptive and you make it sound so beautiful!! can you please write another edward POV, it can be about whatever you want!! whats on his mind?

thank you very much! ♡ also, i thought it’d be fun or interesting to tackle the scene in new moon where he leaves from edward’s perspective. spoiler: it was not fun. two or three days and 15 pages later, and guess what? i am sad <3

anyways, we’ll see how you feel about the cringiness of my edward’s angst now hehe.

warnings: midnight sun spoilers, mentions of depression, implications of suicide.

“For Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread.”

–– Alexander Pope, An Essay on Criticism.

"Come for a walk with me," I suggested, working to keep my voice unemotional and detached. Ever since Bella’d entered my life, I’d exerted so much energy into control. Controlling my dangerous impulses, both the bloodlust and the lust of desire. It’d been scarcely manageable, just enough so that I myself didn’t pose any substantial threats to the warm, trusting girl before me, though not without great effort. Of course, despite these efforts, my presence still constituted a great risk on her life, but that wouldn’t be an issue much longer. And yet, regardless of all the time I’d invested to mastering and willing my control to be greater than it was, the effort to feign the aloofness I needed now was far more strenuous than anything else I’d ever done.

I reached for Bella’s hand – the last time I’d allow myself to truly hold it within my own. I was excruciatingly reminded of the little restaurant in Port Angeles and the first time I’d allowed her to touch my hand. The pleasure of her summery touch, the way her gentle willingness had softened the stone man that I was. She’d thanked me then, very aware of the number of times our hands had met, and I’d warned her to not try for another. How lucky I’d been to receive so many more of those touches, many more than I ever deserved. Enough for the remainder of my existence, and yet not enough to satisfy me. Certainly not enough to make this last of touches feel right.

The exquisiteness of her tender hand in mine made this more insufferable than I’d anticipated, and I had anticipated this to be unendurable. It trembled slightly in my grasp. Her pulse thudded through my granite skin and up my arm, spreading throughout my body as though I too had a pounding heartbeat that scored my anxiety. How I wished we were truly leaving for a simple walk in the woods where I could hold her hand indefinitely.

A flash of intuition and panic spasmed on her face, and her already rapid heart fluttered, accelerating in alarm. In the genesis of our relationship, I’d wondered whether this reaction had been fear or attraction. Now, after the horrible, manipulative way I’d orchestrated the seeds for this goodbye, I didn’t need to question what it indicated. As always, I wished to console her, to pull her deep into my arms and ensure her everything would be okay.

But it would be wrong of me to do so, though it’d be the truth. Because now, for her, everything would be okay. Better, even. Her life would be critically improved. My inhuman arms could no longer be her safe haven.

Hesitance marked her unsure, clumsy steps as she trailed behind me. I stopped once we were a few steps onto the trail, not deep enough into the forest to lose sight of her quaint two story house or the senile heap of metal that was her truck.

Though it felt incredibly sacrilegious to do so, I released her hand from mine, surrendering to what I knew to be right. I no longer deserved her warmth.

I turned to face her, leaning against a tree indifferently as though I cared little for this conversation. The reality was, of course, the opposite. I coerced my face into an impassive mask, not allowing the absolute torment engulfing me to show in my expression as I studied her face. Even if my memory was infallible, I’d never be able to forget her face, and yet as though I might, I stared deeply at the smooth contours of her wide cheekbones, the point of her chin, the fullness of her pink lips, committing the gentle beauty to memory. Celebrating it. Mourning it. The last time I’d ever see her.

I wished to stay in this moment forever.

"Okay, let's talk," she finally said, taking this moment from me too soon. Her voice took on a note of determination and bravery that I hadn’t expected. I wondered what she’d been thinking the past few days of my abnormal and unacceptably rude frigidity. I convinced myself it’d be better this way, to allow that initial distance to emotionally prepare her for my disappearance from her life. Let her think of the coldness and nothing else. Let her begin to forget the intensity of the love I felt for her.

Let the distance torture me like the masochist I proved to be. There was no way to emotionally prepare myself for the violence of this heartache the way I did for her. It destroyed me to treat her this way. It was as though a knife had been plunged deeply into my impenetrable chest, and with every harsh, apathetic word, every step away from her, it’d been twisted painfully, still nestled within the incurable, hemorrhaging wound. Perhaps there’d be some sick, macabre relief when I finally finished myself off with this most dreaded of conversations.

Yes, I wished to stay in this moment forever. But Bella didn’t have forever. 

I sighed heavily, welcoming her enticing scent to wash over me rather than the worst of my afflictions. The way her fragrance triggered my darkest instincts was a reminder of her precious nearness to me and the time limit on that nearness. A reminder of the monster I was. A reminder of why I needed to leave.

"Bella, we're leaving,” I announced, unwillingly beginning to recite the lines of dialogue I’d been rehearsing and wrestling with in my mind ever since the party. Of all our years of deception and mirages, the part I was about to play was my most loathed.

Bella seemed nearly relieved as she sighed in response, and for a moment I considered whether she’d anticipated as much. Perhaps she’d reached the conclusion she should have long ago – that I should be unwelcome in her life. That our leaving was a good thing.

“Why now? Another year—” she began to argue, and I realized she’d misunderstood. Pain rippled through me, but I’d prepared for this question.

“Bella, it's time,” I stated with finality, nearly patronizing her like an imbecile. “How much longer could we stay in Forks, after all? Carlisle can barely pass for thirty, and he's claiming thirty-three now. We'd have to start over soon regardless.”

Admittedly, this wasn’t entirely untrue, and yet it was a lie. Outside of my family, Bella was the only person I’d ever desperately wanted to sincerely know me and expose every truth of myself to. And now, she was the recipient of all of my lies and dishonesty. Deception, again.

Bella’s forehead puckered as she contemplated my words. Once more, I longed to smooth the wrinkle between her eyebrows, to brush my fingers along her cheek… It took everything within me to hold onto the impassivity of my cold expression.

Suddenly, Bella’s beautiful cream skin became colored in a green-tinged white as awareness began to sink in. The chalkiness was so close to the tragedy of Alice’s vision of Bella with lifeless, red eyes that I warred against. The thought of this future empowered me with the reminder this was indeed the right thing. Her heart picked up yet again, and she swayed off-balance, but I remained frozen in place.

“When you say we—,” her voice came out quietly in a demoralized whisper.

“I mean my family and myself,” I miserably clarified to ensure that she understood completely what would become of her future, and how it’d no longer be intertwined with my own.

She shook her head back and forth, stunned. It was minutes before she spoke again, and I found myself desperate for more time as she processed this. Even as torturous as this was, I wished to stay in this moment and bask in her confusion. How many times had I longed to read her mind? It was nothing compared to the curiosity that agonized me now. But I could do nothing to satiate that curiosity. I could give her no indication that I concerned or longed for her thoughts.

“Okay,” she finally said stubbornly, still in denial. “I'll come with you.”

“You can't, Bella,” I disagreed. I’d prepared for her obstinance, for the argument. “Where we're going…” I used the plural, though I had no intention of being surrounded by anyone or anything but my own despairing thoughts. “It’s not the right place for you.” This much was true again. Hell was no place for the springtime that was Bella Swan.

“Where you are is the right place for me,” she protested.

She was entirely wrong, but the opposite was unquestionable. Where she was was the right place for me. But for her life and the value it had to my pathetic, limitless existence, it was the right wrong place for me to be.

“I'm no good for you, Bella.” In the midst of all my dishonesty, I could share with her this certainty.

“Don't be ridiculous,” she whimpered. “You're the very best part of my life.”

When considering if someone as perfect as Bella could see someone like me as worthy of love, I’d once wondered if a dead, frozen heart could break. When Bella’s life was endangered by a vicious hunter so shortly after I’d introduced her to my own world, I’d wondered the same thing. When Bella lay broken and beaten in a hospital as I watched the videotape that had captured the brutality of the torture she’d endured because of my irresponsibility, the same question haunted me. And now, as she cried out these words, I had my answer. It absolutely and irreversibly could.

I’d rushed into love foolishly, selfishly. And Bella had paid the price for my sins.

In that same chapel where I relived Bella’s torture, I’d prayed desperately, ferociously, agonizingly. Had I been human perhaps I’d have cried and sweat drops of blood like Jesus had in the garden of Gethsemane before his crucification. But maybe after all, my strength came from no god, no higher, benevolent power, but from the gentle fragility of this human girl whom I loved so much.

“My world is not for you,” I admitted, both to her and to myself, unable to keep the depression from bleeding into my tone. My face felt harder, colder, darker.

She was impassioned by this admission.

“What happened with Jasper—that was nothing, Edward! Nothing!” The words clumsily burst out of her as incredulity and hopelessness began to pump the adrenaline in her precious veins. Although it wounded me, I took no surprise to how easily she brushed aside the threats to her life.

“You're right,” I agreed bitterly. “It was exactly what was to be expected.”

She seemed to sense the thread that tied her to me weakening. As always, she knew exactly how to pierce through me, shouting the exact words that would break me.

“You promised!” She accused, nearly begging. “In Phoenix, you promised that you would stay—”

I didn’t allow her to see how her words affected me, the heaviness that was strangulating my broken heart. 

"As long as that was best for you," I corrected her, reminding her of the importance of that distinction.

“No!” She screamed her refusal. As I suspected, it’d be hours before she allowed me to leave. “This is about my soul, isn't it?" Bella shouted, infuriated.

I’d have froze if I wasn’t already completely still, stunned at this unexpected turn in conversation, shocked at how exactly she’d pinpointed the exact reason I couldn’t keep her with me forever. “Carlisle told me about that, and I don't care, Edward. I don't care! You can have my soul. I don't want it without you—it's yours already!”

Bella was always more well informed than what was good for her. I was already too overcome with more powerful emotions that I didn’t have the capacity to feel angry with Carlisle for sharing this with her. This is what was wrong. Despicable. Unacceptable. I’d inflicted so much damage onto her life already. Her instincts were always horribly, unfathomably wrong. Of course she’d willingly trade her precious, invaluable life for eternal damnation. But her soul wasn’t something she could give me nor something I’d ever take from her. I could never allow that. I took a deep breath, mourning how easily she’d throw her life away for someone like me, the dark affliction on her perfect life. I kept my eyes fixated on the ground as I fought against the soulless, red-eyed depiction of Bella in my head. It was wrong. Selfishness. A tragedy.

I should have anticipated that Bella wouldn’t accept the circumstances of my leaving if they benefited only her. I’d have to make her believe that leaving benefitted me. I’d have to convince her that the unconditional, inextinguishable love I had for her had been fraudulence, a fleeting summer romance I’d outgrown. A random short lived obsession I’d progressed beyond the desire for. I’d have to truly break her. I grimaced, breaking from the mask as my mouth contorted in anguish, but instantaneously I regained my former stoicism so she’d be unable to see the change in expression. Tearless sobs festered below my composure, threatening to surface, but I choked down the pain. Let me suffer later. I had the rest of Bella’s life to agonize over this.

This is where the strength I’d needed would be put to use. I looked up, commanding my eyes to be cruel, empty, lifeless. Willing myself to look at her like I had that first day in biology when I’d despised her for the upheaval she’d inflicted on my life.

“Bella, I don't want you to come with me.” I forced the words out slowly, scathingly, separating them so she would understand. I analyzed her face to ensure she’d grasp the meaning behind them, half hoping she’d immediately detect the blasphemy.

“You... don't... want me?” She sampled out the words, her forehead creasing as she tried to make sense of the absurdity of them. As if I’d ever want anything but her.

“No,” I lied.

She stared into my eyes. The depth of the chocolate brown entrapped me as she struggled for comprehension, searching for meaning as I searched again for strength.

“Well, that changes things,” she finally surrendered, accepting my sacrilege without hesitation.

I was outraged and demoralized by how quickly she’d accepted this contradiction to everything I’d ever led her to believe. How instantly she doubted the intensity, the irrevocability of how absolutely I loved her. Without this love, which was the most defining component of my existence, the foundation of all joy in this non-life of mine, I had nothing to live for. Nothing to hope for. Didn’t she understand that?

Suddenly, I was breaking the rules again. I couldn’t tolerate the idea of completely dismissing the importance of my affection for her, or rather, the importance of her life to mine. Cowardly, I looked away at the trees so that she couldn’t see the emotion in my eyes that would betray the gross understatement of my next words. “Of course, I'll always love you…” I longed to stop there. How true that was. I always would love her. Always, until her last breath. And always, until my own. “…in a way,” I added contemptibly to set myself back on the previous track.

“But what happened the other night made me realize that it's time for a change.” Again, my words were able to take on some authenticity. I’d been dreadfully waiting for the catalyst that’d send me far away from her forever, and it’d been inexcusably irresponsible to allow for another life threatening circumstance to be what reminded me that monsters had no place in her life. “Because I’m…” I hesitated, wanting to make her to understand the reality of why her life would be better without any interference from my own rather than these ridiculous lies. But in making this harder for myself, I could make this break easier for her if I led her to believe differently.

“–tired of pretending to be something I'm not, Bella.” This was laughable fiction. As if I’d ever grow tired of the way she’d made me feel more human than I ever had, eliciting my most unexpected, long buried instincts, making me feel alive. The way the beat of her heart seemed to shake through the earth as though it rocked faintly to the sound of it and through me, too. An electric hum through my body almost like I too had a pulse. The warmth of my own skin as I became immersed in her wonderful heat, and the thrill as her fingertips grazed along my skin, tracing trails of tingling, pleasurable fire. I could bask in these feelings forever and never grow tired.But I was pretending to be something I’m not by allowing myself to act as though I could be a real partner to her. Something I so desperately wished I could be.

“I am not human." I clenched my jaw as I admitted this ugly, loathsome truth. "I've let this go on much too long, and I'm sorry for that.”

There was so much else to be sorry for and allowing myself to impose on her future for these past few months was the shallow tip of the iceberg, but Bella didn’t have the time to listen to my endless list of pathetic, hopeless apologies. Bella didn’t have time at all.

“Don’t,” she whispered in perfect stillness, her quiet voice empty and hopeless. “Don't do this.”

Her pleading ripped through me like the blade again, sawing open the wound. Agony. I reversed the truth, knowing it was the only way to leave her.

“You're not good for me, Bella,” I lied again. This was the worst, the most deranged of the lies I’d told.

Her galloping heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second, skipping in its rhythm as cognizance drained through her. She digested this delusion. She opened her mouth as if to protest, but no sound came out. Selfishly, I wished she would.

She closed it again. I waited the longest moment of my long life.

“If…” she murmured, completely broken, “that’s what you want.”

I couldn’t make myself say the words to convince her further. I simply forced my head to nod once. That was all that I could allow myself.

She stood there, numb and subdued. Her remarkable brown eyes bore into mine.

With great torment, I warred with myself again. Finally, I acquiesced to the last of my self centered acts I’d allow.

“I would like to ask one favor, though, if that's not too much," I said though I deserved nothing from her. She’d already given me more than I deserved. Too much.

I stared at her beautiful face, watching as its exquisite color grew paler, sunless. An echo of the grey, lifeless vision Alice had seen her become in my absence. But she wasn’t like me. She could recover. She could heal. That lifelessness, that emptiness was nothing in comparison to the lifelessness of the paler, colder, stone version of her. Or the emptiness of the ashen, drained, and broken body in my arms. My face broke into a brief expression of mourning, but I composed myself again before she could see the grief.

"Don't do anything reckless or stupid," I demanded severely. This was the most crucial thing I could ask of her now. She stared back at me detached and dispassionate as if she were elsewhere far away from here. As if her life had already gone. I waited for a sign that she comprehended the significance of what I asked of her. “Do you understand what I'm saying?”

She nodded weakly.

It seemed as good of a guarantee as I could hope for, though I longed to beg this of her. To fervently beg on my knees by her side that she understand how important, how critical her life was and do nothing to abuse that. How it was the paramount center of my being. But I couldn’t express that. I couldn’t impress upon her what she should have known already.

“I’m thinking of Charlie, of course.” Although this was also a genuine concern of mine, it wasn’t the factor on which I’d based this last imperative request. “He needs you. Take care of yourself—“ I paused, wondering if she could detect the depth of my emotions as they overflowed, heavily affecting the words, “–for him.”

Bella nodded again. “I will,” she whispered, her voice nearly inaudible.

I relaxed only slightly, trusting her sincerity. Bella was far too concerned for others. She felt overly responsible for the lives hers touched. That would be enough to give her the strength to carry forward. She’d never do anything irrational that could hurt Charlie.

“And I'll make you a promise in return," I spoke, dreading the next words, but wanting to present my last gift to her. The last thing I could offer her. “I promise that this will be the last time you'll see me. I won't come back. I won't put you through anything like this again. You can go on with your life without any more interference from me. It will be as if I'd never existed.”

I watched tragically as Bella wobbled in place as though she may lose her balance, her body trembling. Her heartbeat picked up significantly, racing. I ached to reach forward and steady her but couldn’t allow myself this touch.

And though I was drowning, I couldn’t help but nearly bask in this heartbreaking moment. Her suffering was pure excruciation to me, but this reaction was proof that she did love me in some way. A weak, human imitation of the fervency of my feelings for her, but still proof of their relevancy in her life. She believed them to be absolute. So in this pain, I found one minuscule moment of bliss that I could hold onto. Her feelings would change, they would fade, but in this insignificant second of time, they were real to her. I smiled a gentle, sad smile.

“Don't worry,” I comforted her. “You're human—your memory is no more than a sieve. Time heals all wounds for your kind.”

“And your memories?" She asked, nearly choking on the air as she breathed.

“Well,” I hesitated, thinking of all the memories that would haunt me over and over for the rest of my now expiring immortality. Memories irreversibly branded into my mind. The wounds that time would never heal. “I won't forget. But my kind…” my kind, whose perfection cursed us with the flawlessness of an infallible mind as much as we may try to forget. “We’re very easily distracted.”

As if any distractions could keep me from slipping into the misery and depression that awaited me, maliciously beckoning me forward, eager to asphyxiate me in a tailored kind of hell. But this melancholy, for lack of a more severe, accurate word, was a price I was willing to pay for having had Bella in my life at all. I smiled for her, wanting to substantiate the lie that I’d be at peace. That she’d no longer need to worry about me.

I willed myself backwards a step, eager now to cut the thread that connected us so that she may live the life she deserved. The action felt violent like the demon of my oncoming depression had wrenched me back, hungry and impatient to begin the second round of torture. “That’s everything, I suppose. We won't bother you again.”

Her eyes suddenly widened in fear and the realization that this was the end.

“Alice isn't coming back,” she exhaled so quietly that she only mouthed the words.

I shook my head slowly, watching as she absorbed this.

“No,” I confirmed. “They’re all gone. I stayed behind to tell you goodbye.”

“Alice is gone?” She repeated in complete disbelief as though she was only now comprehending the reality of the situation. I thought of Alice’s incredulous betrayal that I’d made her leave Bella this way. Suddenly, I found myself wanting to defend Alice, to make sure Bella knew I was entirely to blame for this abrupt departure. Alice would never forgive me if I didn’t. Though she already would never forgive me now. I almost grimaced thinking of her confidence that this was a ridiculous and cheap attempt to deviate from a future that seemed so inescapable. That in agreeing to this plan – though it wasn’t so much that she agreed, but that she surrendered – she was humoring me, if humoring was even the right word for something so harrowing. This was causing her grief and heartbreak, too. 

“She wanted to say goodbye, but I convinced her that a clean break would be better for you.”

Bella swayed as her mind slipped further from me. Her breathing was shallow and abnormal.

“Goodbye, Bella,” I murmured before she could say anything more. Goodbye, my love. My reason for existence.

“Wait!” She choked out the word in panic, stumbling forward with her arms outstretched towards me, her body overcome with tremors.

I reached back for her too, again longing to pull her against me. I’d never wanted anything more. But instead, I locked my hands around her wrists and gently pinned them by her sides. She shouldn’t reach for me any longer.

I couldn’t help myself. Selfishly, I permitted myself once last touch. I leaned down, pressing my lips gently to her forehead, inhaling her wonderful scent, wallowing in the warmth. This one last kiss.

I’d never allow my selfish temptations to hurt Isabella Swan ever again.

“Take care of yourself,” I breathed against her velvety, translucent skin.

Then, I was gone, leaving my broken, dead, frozen heart with her.

Every step away from her was heavier, dragging me down to the fires of torment as though gravity was pressing upon me more densely than ever before. I felt detached from my body as though my skin was violently melting off the granite bones, but I couldn’t find the desire to try and save myself. Bizarrely, simultaneously, I felt weightless as though I were helplessly floating in space with nothing to anchor me, no sense of when I’d be able to return to earth, and I cared little to. I watched as the sun slipped away, and with it, the brilliance of the stars Bella had lit on fire in the sky disappeared, returning me to midnight. I was blinded by the meteor that’d shot across the sky, and in its absence, found myself plunged into darkness. Twilight, again.

[imladris-soldier]

Lashes (pt 18)

Bill Williamson is a racist asshole. Everyone knows it. They just punch him and go on about their day. When a Lakota woman joins the gang, everyone expects things to go on as normal, slurs and all, and for a time, it does. But her curiosity gets the better of her, and she finds that hatred is something learned - which means it can be unlearned, if given time, care, and patience. And she has plenty of those… the first two, anyway.

Bill Williamson x OC

The trolley incident, as Arthur had referred to it, only gave Star more reason to remain uneasy about the course of the gang. Apparently Angelo Bronte had lied to Dutch as well as set him up, causing a lot of chaos and police deaths in the process. There was scarce money to be stolen at the trolley station, and Dutch had taken a bit of a blow to the head in the escape. None of it was good news.

“So... what's the plan, then?”

“Dutch said somethin' 'bout the bank, but that's gonna take some more legwork before we're ready to hit it.”

“He still wants to? Even after all of that? Shouldn't we just go?”

Arthur sighed heavily and shrugged. “I don't know what we should do. I thought we were only stayin' in Lemoyne to get Jack back, but... now he's talkin' about Tahiti and Australia like we got any kind of idea how to make a life there. He says mango farmers, but I ain't even seen a mango before.”

A laugh skittered out of Star. “Me either. Wouldn't know a thing about farming them.”

“Exactly. I don't mean to sound doubtful, but I just can't see his endgame like I used to.”

“Arthur... I'm...”

I'm worried, she wanted to say. She wanted to explain her fears and doubts and hopes and desires, but all of it just felt so pointless – so unsure. Dutch had been muttering more about doubters of late, and she didn't want to fall into that category.

When Star didn't finish her thought, Arthur looked over at her, taking in her thoughtful frown. “I know, Star. I know.”

They got back to camp around mid-morning, calling out a greeting to Charles who stood guard. “Good to see you back,” the burly man replied with a nod.

Star hitched her mare and removed the saddle before heading into the heart of camp. She knew that she had to seek out Bill, but a part of her was fearful of the conversation they would have. Instead, she went to find Dutch first, as she was worried about him.

The dark-haired man was sitting up on the second floor balcony, a book in hand. Star jogged up the stairs and quietly exited out the double doors. Dutch looked up when they creaked, but he smiled when he saw her. “Ah, the warrior returns. We've missed you the last few days.”

His words made her smile. “I'm sorry for the mess I made.”

“What mess? All I saw was a woman gaining her rightful vengeance for wrongs done to her and those she cared for. Somethin' I can admire, and admittedly feel a kinship with right now.”

“Arthur told me about Bronte and the trolley station.”

Dutch snorted in disdain. “Then you understand.” He put his book down and pat the chair next to his. Star took his invitation and sat. “That snake of a man has harmed us for the last time.”

“Do you intend to pay him another visit?”

“It is... up for consideration, though Hosea is being obstinate. The way I see it, he runs this town, and as long as he's still in it, we ain't got a chance in hell to rob that bank.”

“Do... do we have to rob the bank?”

He shot her a sharp glance. “Do you want to get away from them that's on our tail and live out the rest of your years peaceably in an island paradise?”

The tone of his voice made her shrink into herself slightly. “I suppose.”

“Then, yes. We have to rob the bank.”

Something had soured between them, and Star, for whatever reason, felt the insatiable need to make it right again. If nothing else, she understood Bill's compulsion to make Dutch proud of him. “Arthur said you hit your head. Has anyone looked at it?”

“Ms. Grimshaw gave it a look when we got back. I'm fine.”

Her lips pursed. “May I look?”

For a moment, Dutch seemed suspicious, but it faded into soft appreciation. “Suppose another input wouldn't hurt none.”

Star stood and moved behind him, gently taking his hat and hanging it off the back of her vacated chair. She ran her fingers softly through his dark locks, shaking them loose enough to be manipulated out of her way. “Where did you hit?”

Dutch pointed to the top of his head, just where his hairline met his forehead. “The worst of it was here, but my whole head has been hurtin'.”

Slender fingers shifted his hair away from the area he'd pointed to, revealing a large, ugly bruise on his scalp. They prodded carefully, earning a hiss of pain from him. “Sorry. Do you know what you hit it on?”

“No idea. We crashed a trolley, and things went flyin'. Ain't no knowin' what clobbered me.”

“Hmm.” She didn't like the look of the bruise, or the fact that his whole head hurt him, but she didn't know enough of her people's medicine to make any affirmative statements. “I know some plants that help with pain. I can make you a tea that will ease it and help you sleep.”

“You mean drinkin' alcohol 'til I black out isn't exactly the most healthy sleep method?” he joked, looking up at her with a smile.

She smiled back. “Not exactly.”

Just then, the floorboards of the house creaked, announcing the presence of another. Both pairs of brown eyes locked onto tearful, angry green ones. Molly's bright red hair whipped around as she stormed out of the room. Dutch sighed heavily, leaning forward until his elbows were on his knees. Star stood slightly frozen, hands still hovering in the air where his head had been.

“Don't mind her,” Dutch commented wearily. “Can't do nothin' to please her these days.”

“I didn't mean... if I gave the wrong impression...”

“You did nothin' of the kind. She's a jealous creature who can't see past her own damn nose.” He rubbed his eyes, then stood, grabbing up his hat and placing it back on his head. “I'll take that tea of yours. Thank you.”

“Sure. I care about this gang, and that means you too.”

He smiled. “Good day, madam.”

As Dutch left, Star turned to look out over the camp. It had mostly returned to normal, though there was noticeably less organization around the horses and their gear. It hadn't occurred to her when she left that there wasn't anyone else to look after them. Not with Kieran gone.

She sniffled slightly, turning her gaze elsewhere. It finally landed on blue and white plaid leaned up against one of the trees off to the right of the gazebo. It seemed that she was not the only one doing the watching. With a deep, steadying breath, she turned to head out and join Bill beneath the tree. Come what may.

He was still leaning on the tree when she got there, and remained that way for a moment. “Howdy, stranger,” he murmured on her arrival. “What brings you to these parts?”

She chuckled quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. “Hi, Bill.”

He smiled, picking himself up off the tree to go to her and pull her into his arms. It wasn't what she expected, but she relaxed into him despite the surprise. Her fingers slid around his sides to his back where they twisted up in his plaid shirt. She rested her head against his chest, and he put his chin atop it. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered.

“I know. Ain't yer fault. You was just bein' you.”

“A very violent version of me.”

“Don't make no difference. We live a violent life. Besides, I knew you was good friends with Kieran. If you'd held back on my account... well, it just wouldn't've been right.”

She sighed and shifted her head to look at him. “Still. I do not want to hurt you. If all I do is cause episodes like that one, then it would be better if you stayed away from me.”

He seemed to not have expected that response, given the shock in his expression. “You...you think I'd be better off without you?”

“Maybe. I am a living memory of your pain. You should not be subjected to that every day.”

He gaped at her, then shook his head quickly. “No. That's not...”

“Think about it. You have to see...”

“Shut the hell up and listen to me,” he snapped abruptly. “You think too god damn much.”

He pulled back from her slightly, so her arms fell back to her sides as she stood in baffled silence. “Dunno if you forgot, but I ain't the only one in this relationship with nightmares, am I? You remember who caused yours? People like me. But you stayed. I-I-I treated you like shit, but you fuckin' stayed. And now you want me to leave you 'cause of some... waking nightmare bullshit that can't either of us control? You think that caused me anywhere near the pain I know I caused you? Gettin' told you're trash just 'cause of the color of your skin. Treated like a-a-a damn animal 'cause somebody decided you was less than.”

The more he talked, the more animated he became. His hands gestured wildly, pointing to her and himself and all over. She stood back a little farther, shaken by the vehemence of his speech.

“I asked about you first thing when I came out of it, 'cause I knew you was gonna blame yourself, and-and hell... in the past I would'a blamed you too, but I been thinkin' 'bout this for a long damn time. You and me... we got so much shit, and maybe we ain't supposed to be together – maybe some sane person would look at us and ask why we do this to ourselves, but I... I can't think of nothin' else to do. You're tellin' me that I should leave ya, and all I want... all I want is to wake up next to you every day until the day I finally fuckin' die. My nightmares ain't anything new, and I-I-I would much rather have you here when they're over than face 'em alone. You saved me. From... from myself and the world and my own stupidity. And I didn't deserve a bit of it.”

He was out of breath and red in the face at this point. It was the most impassioned thing she had ever heard come out of his mouth, and she couldn't decide if she was touched or frightened by the fervor. Still, her heart swelled with love despite her worries and fears, and to know that this incident had done nothing but strengthen his resolve was some sort of dream she had never dared hope for. Maybe neither of them were in their right mind, but at that point, who cared?

After taking a few breaths to calm down, Bill reached into his pocket, pulling out something small that he kept closed in his fist. “I... this ain't somethin' I ever thought I'd care about, but it's been naggin' me for weeks. You probably don't care neither seein' as how you ain't one for churchy shit, but... well, if I don't ask it's gonna drive me insane.”

He held out his hand and opened it. Sitting in the palm was a small silver band, glistening in the sun. Star looked at it, not entirely realizing its significance until he spoke again. “Would you... would you marry me?”

Many things flooded through Star's mind, and deciding which of those things to express was nearly impossible. Finally, after what had to have been an agonizingly long time for Bill, she spoke. “Before Christianity invaded, the Lakota had a much more fluid idea of marriage. Gifts were given, and if those gifts were accepted, then it was decided. The groom's mother would make a lodge for the pair, and when it was complete, there would be a night of festivities. At the end of the night, the couple would move into their lodge and... that was it. They were married.”

She paused and pointed at their little tent amid the rest of the tents and wagons. “That's our lodge. It might have lacked some decorum, but... I married you a long time ago.” Tears burned behind her eyes as she reached out and took the ring from his hand, slipping it onto her left ring finger. “If you also want to do it the Christian way, I don't mind.”

He abruptly closed the distance between them, taking her face in his hands. “You mean I could'a been callin' you my wife all this time, and you didn't even tell me?”

She laughed, freeing the tears to slip down her cheeks, only to be wiped away by his thumbs. “Like you said, didn't think you'd care. Didn't think I'd care either, but since you asked...”

The kiss he wrapped her up into was full of a sort of desperation. It was hard to put a finger on what kind, but every single bit of the act radiated joy. He wrapped both arms around her waist and lifted her up, causing her to giggle and put both arms around his neck to steady herself. She left kisses on his nose and his cheeks and his forehead before simply leaning her head against his. They might have stayed that way all day.

“See you two worked everything out,” Arthur called, coming to join them.

Bill sat Star down, then picked up her left hand and waved it at him. “She said yes!”

“Aw yeah? Congratulations, Bill.”

Star pulled her hand to her chest, eyeing Arthur suspiciously. “You knew, didn't you? That's why you wanted to make sure I talked to him!”

A guilty smile spread over Arthur's face, and he looked at his feet. “Yeah. He told me not too long after comin' outta that episode he had. You ain't mad, are ya?”

A sly smile pulled one corner of Star's mouth higher than the other. She went to him and put a hand to his cheek, pulling him down so that she could place a kiss on the other cheek. “Thanks, Arthur.” With that, she walked away, twisting the ring around her finger as she went.

….

It took a couple days, but soon the decision was made to visit Bronte in his big house. The purpose of this visit seemed muddled. Dutch insisted that it was business – clearing the path to rob the bank, but Hosea and even Arthur worried that it smacked too much of revenge.

After Dutch and Arthur secured transport to Bronte's property across the swamp, the crew was picked. Lenny, John, and Bill would be joining the two in their assault, the ends of which were apparently to be determined as they went along.

Star walked Bill to his horse as they prepared to leave, keeping her mouth decidedly shut about her concerns. Perhaps they would all be for nothing. Still, he noticed her demeanor and saw fit to ask after it. “You seem real quiet. What's got you worried?”

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, then paused and added, “Everything. It doesn't matter. Just go and do, and we'll deal with it when you're done.”

He frowned, obviously getting slightly lost in the double speak and misdirection. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Don't worry about me. Just keep your head down. If Bronte really does have the cops in his pocket, then there's likely to be a lot of law. Call me crazy, but I'm not exactly interested in watching you swing.”

He smiled a bit. “You'd come get me out. I know you would.”

His confidence broke her down into a smile as well. “Yeah, well, maybe I would. Depends on what you were doing when you got caught. If it's dumb enough, I might let you rot.”

“You joke,” he replied, swing up onto Brown Jack, “but I know you. You'd be beside yourself. If you scalped a fella over Kieran, I don't even wanna imagine what you'd do over me.”

He made a compelling point, and all Star could do was laugh. “Just be careful!” she called after him as they rode out. He waved, and then they disappeared through the trees.

Charles had watched the exchange from a distance and joined Star with a soft smile on his lips. “Would you really leave him in jail?”

Star sighed, placing her hands on her hips. “I'd burn the whole city down before letting him hang.”

“Do you intend to follow through with a Christian wedding?”

She shrugged. “If he wants to, but he seemed content with the Lakota way for now. Maybe when things settle down we'll get around to it.”

The air in the camp was tense while the men were gone. Hosea was in a foul mood and everyone knew it which only made everyone else even more on edge. It wasn't like him and Dutch to disagree quite so much on the course of things. Even Star, who had only been with them a few months, could see that. She wanted to ask the old man about it, but she also didn't want to go anywhere near him for fear of inciting his anger accidentally. Instead, she spent most of her time with the horses. However, when darkness fell, she joined a few people around one of the fires.

One of those people was Mary-Beth, and she scooted close to Star to ask, “Can I see your ring?”

Star held out her left hand, and Mary-Beth took it. The young woman's hands were soft and gentle, treating Star's hand as an object of worship. “It's so pretty,” she whispered with a smile. “Silver works perfectly for you. Do you know where he got it?”

“Stole it, most likely,” Star chuckled. “Not that I blame him. Frugality is nothing to sneeze at.”

Mary-Beth giggled. “True. I never thought Bill would be the type to marry. Too... rough. But you brought out a side of him none of us expected. Who'd have thought there was a romantic under all that bluster and brawn?”

“Well, certainly not me.”

They laughed together until a voice dripping in venom cut in, “Ah, the sound of lady's laughter. Music in the night.”

Micah sat uncomfortably close to Mary-Beth, smiling in a way that made Star's skin crawl. “Mr. Bell,” Mary-Beth greeted politely, ever so slightly scooting closer to her female companion.

“Miss Gaskill. Mrs. Williamson.” He snickered around the title. “Think they'll let you put Star on the marriage certificate? Or are they gonna force you to take a white name?”

“Star is my white name, you cretin,” she spat back. “A nice simple word for slow, ignorant tongues.”

“Oh, but my tongue is neither,” he crooned, waggling it suggestively. “Maybe I'll show you sometime.”

“Only if you fancy losing it.”

Mary-Beth's eyes darted back and forth between the two, and her face had gone pale. Micah leaned forward, across Mary-Beth, to get close to Star. “Now, I recall informing you that threatenin' me was a mistake, Mrs. Williamson.”

“That's funny, Mr. Bell, as I don't recall giving a shit.”

He huffed a condescending laugh. “You should learn some respect, girl.”

“Go ahead and teach me, snake!”

She shoved him, jostling Mary-Beth in the process. Micah reared back, then leapt to his feet, eyes flashing. Star joined him, squaring up for a fight, but then another voice cut in. “Problem here?”

Javier meandered into the firelight casually, deep brown eyes taking in the stances of the two standing and Mary-Beth's frightened face.

“Why don't you fuck off back to Mexico, greaser?” Micah snarled.

Javier looked at Star, then back at Micah, and made his way to stand with them. He rolled his right shoulder nonchalantly, seeming to work out a kink, then leaned back and threw a punch with all his weight into Micah's jaw. “Why don't you fuck off back to hell?!”

The ensuing scuffle saw Star and Javier both on top of Micah, beating him with fists. Mary-Beth shrieked and fled as others around the camp became aware of what was happening. Micah's foot caught Star in the throat, sending her backwards onto her ass, gasping for air. He managed to throw Javier off long enough to pull his knife and jump atop Star, pressing the blade into her cheek until blood began to trickle.

“I don't care if you married a white man, fool that he is. You're still just a redskin squaw, and you ain't ever gonna be nothin' different.” His knife slid maliciously across her cheek, flinging droplets of blood into the fire.

“Get off her!”

Charles' booming roar was enough to cause Star's ears to ring. Micah was abruptly removed from her torso, and she was gasping for breath again, one hand holding the cut on her face and the other massaging her throat. There was more shouting and shuffling, but soon Star was being lifted up into Charles' arms and moved across the camp. Javier followed.

When she was sat down again, it was on Charles' bedroll. He sat with her, examining her injuries carefully. Her breath was still ragged and a struggle, but the pain in her throat and chest had started to ease. The deep slice on her face stung and bled, but Charles was gentle in tending to it.

“Does it need stitching?” Javier asked.

“Probably. Would you get me the supplies?”

“Por supuesto. I'll be right back.”

Once they were alone, Charles sighed and rubbed Star's back. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, but didn't say what was on her mind. Outside of the gang, there were many people who felt as Micah did. Attacks, both physical and verbal, would not be uncommon. It made her second guess the ring on her finger. Perhaps it would be better to wear it on a chain around her neck. Something less obvious.

The stitching went quickly and cleanly. Javier and Charles stayed with her through the night, though she never regained her voice enough to thank them. None of them slept. In the morning, Javier brought breakfast over, and they ate in silence. There was a feeling that things needed to be talked about, but also that none of them knew what to say. They had all faced such violence so many times before that words had lost their meaning.

Finally, after some coffee, Star's voice came back enough for her to take Javier's hand and whisper, “Thanks.”

He nodded, clasping her hand with both of his. “Hermana.”

She and Charles spent the rest of the morning together in silence, braiding each others hair. When Dutch and the crew returned, they both paused and looked up. They shared a look and a sigh, knowing just from the bearing of the group that something had happened. Something that had shaken them. All but Dutch who rode in so assured of his choices that he practically glowed in the morning sun.

Ms. Grimshaw intercepted Arthur and Bill as they came in, murmuring quietly with them. Bill bristled and took a step towards Micah's tent, but Arthur caught his arm and practically dragged him over to where Star and Charles sat. Once his eyes landed on Star, Bill seemed to forget Micah and hurried to her, helping her to her feet so he could examine the cut on her face.

Arthur and Charles spoke softly, discussing the raid and what had happened. “I just don't know, Charles. I ain't... I ain't ever seen him so... unhinged. I mean, feedin' a man to an alligator? Business is business, but that... that was somethin' else.”

“Feels like everyone is losing bits and pieces of themselves around here,” Charles sighed. “We need to get that money and get out of here.”

Bill had yet to speak, and Star was having trouble reading him. He seemed wracked with guilt and anger and worry, yet none of those emotions would form into expression. He just stared at her, breezing a thumb over the stitches. Finally, at long last, “I shoulda been here. He never woulda done somethin' if I was here.”

“I don't know if that's true,” she wheezed, still very hoarse. “He hasn't exactly got much respect for you either.”

“Yeah, well... he can't just... just go around assaulting gang members. I'll... I'll talk to Dutch about it. If Dutch even cares.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

Bill shook his head. “Just somethin' Dutch said on our way to Bronte's. Got real... mean about my time in the army. Just makin' fun of me and stuff. I dunno, maybe it was nothin', but... but it didn't sound like him.”

Star swallowed painfully and leaned into Bill. “I'm scared,” she breathed, only loud enough for him to hear. “I don't understand what's happening. Everyone is losing their minds.”

He ran his fingers down her braid, then slid them to the back of her neck. “I know. But... it'll be alright. It will. We've always gotten outta scrapes before. Dutch'll get us out. You'll see.”

“I hope so. But what if he doesn't?”

[anchor-management]

Memory: Fragment

Only a bell or so more, and I can rest. 

No matter how exhausting the day had been toiling under the scorching sun filling wheelbarrows and wagons with ores and rocks, the thought of a finally sitting down in the shade and being able to wash down what felt like sand and dust caking against the roof of my mouth carried my bare and calloused feet eagerly, somewhat impatiently compared to the more sickly and elderly in line as we all carried our last load toward the docks for the evening.

I kept leaning out of formation to get a better view of the pier. The “workers”, myself included, were all being led down the dried dirt path that led to the base of the island where the sails of a large merchant ship at the pier. The usual brutes that looked out for us escorted the laborers with little more enthusiasm than if they had been the ones having to drag the equipment and goods themselves. Patience worn thin on their sweaty features, only every now and then snapping at someone in line to hurry it along; they were ready to rest too.

Soon, I reminded myself as I straightened back into place and resituated the hulking sack in my arms. There was a large band that could be worn over the shoulders, but with the amount of weight from the numerous chunks of ore inside, it wouldn’t be without risk to have it pressing over and crushing my shoulder blade, so I kept both my arms cradled underneath to brace it, the strap sitting loosely around my body only as insurance in case it was accidentally dropped.

The scent of ocean welcomed us into the harbor and we followed our usual directives, one-by-one being led into the cargo hold of the ship to deposit our burdens. It was as we were deboarding that I finally noticed another group, some--no doubt more obstinate or unruly characters--bound in shackles or rope. There were no stark similarities between them in race. Half were young adults or crawling into their later years, but the other portion were children as I. Some younger; some older. I immediately recognized that look in the youths’ eyes; the confusion, the fear, the uncertainty.

Confusion to why it was them; why they were here.

Fear of the unfamiliar faces and the island they would now reside.

And the uncertainty as to what awaited them.

I saw a few look my way, and immediately turned a scarred and sweaty back in front of me, curiosity tightening quickly to a strange sort of nervousness I couldn’t quite place and soon caught the passing words of a couple of the escorts talking to themselves. They too had noticed the new batch of slaves.

“They keep bringin’ ‘em younger. They runnin’ a mine or a soddin’ orphanage?”

“Theys been showin’ well, they says. An’ they can be doin’ well enough with the menial tasks an’ be movin’ the rest deeper in. Somethin’ about…,”

Their voices trailed off, and I nearly forgot them as they were spoke, thinking less of what I knew awaited this fresh batch of laborers and far more interested in the cool water and hopefully still warm meal that awaited back at the “pens”--a term of sorts for the sometimes temporary but usually consistent encampments where we were expected to remain under supervision until work began anew. Warm food wasn’t always a given, but since it was hard labor today, our motley group got off bells earlier than most and so I was excited at the prospect to be one of the first to fill my belly.

It was just short of a bell before we all arrived to the encampment where the lusher portion of the island turned more to rock and hardened clay, the earth having been too worked over the years to offer much in the way of any grasses or organic life. The sun was still hanging in the sky, but the horizon was colored in richer, warmer hues as dusk settled over. Fires and torches were starting to be lit as shadows started to stretch over the formation of earth. The line of laborers started to break apart, being excused to filter into the perimeter--some of which was physically fenced, but most was simply marked by stationed, armed individuals, ready to step in or other if anyone became to unruly.

I could already see a large huddle in the back of the encampment, where smoke was rising from the “kitchen”. Which was less of a kitchen and more a large hearth where they distributed a single serving of soup to each individual that came through. This soup was always days old and a reheated concoction from whatever edible goods and perishables they spared. Bowls weren’t provided so you either had to cup out your hands or get creative. Thankfully the island wasn’t short on clay, and I was able to make myself a passable bowl after some trial and error. Some of the errors being leaving it out for others to take or break and what have you. So then the creativity came in the matter of hiding your few and prized possessions.

Licking my lips eagerly, I quickened my step as soon as I entered the encampment perimeter to go retrieve one of these bowls--that is until I was grabbed just as quickly back by one of my wiry arms.

“Hold, boy.”

This wasn’t the usual Brutes that ordered us around. The tall and burly midlander wore finer armor and a familiar insignia I recognized immediately as being one of the sentries to the superiors of this entire island operation. He was quiet for a moment as he held me, one of his hands hovering near his ear as if listening to something. After a nod, he let me go and looked down at me, “I’ll be takin’ you to The Tracks.”

Dumbfounded, my owlish eyes stared back up at him. The Tracks were even deeper inland, much closer to the main mining shafts. I knew it to be where many of the menial tasks took place, one of the more common ones being to separate ores and crystal from chunks of common rock that would later be moved out of the way to another place on the island. But worse yet, was it meant I was currently being assigned. Surely he must have been mistaken. After all, I was already covered in today’s work,

“Wh… but I--,” My objection was quickly dismissed before it had much chance to rise as the older hyur backhanded the side of my jaw and mouth that had tried to utter words against him. I crumpled to the ground, my smaller, skinnier form nothing in comparison and my weary muscles yielding easily to the unexpected force.

“Worse than that you’ll get if you dare speak against me again.”

The man’s firm grip grabbed the back of my hair and yanked me back to my feet, ignoring the short yelp of pain it elicited and started pushing me back out of the encampment, steering me still against the back of my scalp and only letting go when we were some distance away, pushing me off slightly with a grunt. I caught my footing against the gravel and turned to him warily, ducking my head some in preparation for another strike, but the sentry’s attention was elsewhere.

Rubbing my thumb anxiously over blistered knuckles, I followed his gaze to where a collection of youths were coming up from the direction of the harbor. There must have been twelve or so, a mix of races; most hyur, a few elezen, and a couple miqo’te. I immediately recognized them to be from the group that had come in with the merchant ship. The adults had already been taken elsewhere.

The man that had grabbed me and another individual  dressed in similar armor that marked their superiority spoke amongst themselves for a time and so I was left to stare at the group of children. And they were all staring back at me. We were silent. And their silence meant they must have already seen what happens when you don’t quiet.

After some time, the armed hyur that had grabbed me came back around to the head where I stood, looking over the rest with weary disgust and annoyance. His eyes soon pinned back to me with a similar gaze, “You’ll be offered as example for the rest as to what is expected of them come morning. No mishaps.” Then he looked back over to the others, calling out over them, “Remember what be told to you: if you’re not working, you are no use to us. And you do not want to be no use to us. Understood?” There was a joined series of nods throughout the small group. The man pushed me towards the rest of the group, “In with ‘em. You’ll be joinin’ ‘em at The Tracks for the next sennight.”

I was broiling as we started our trek deeper inland, falling in line with the others. Oddly my anger was less directed at the man that was forcing this on us, but more at the fresh batch of fellow slaves for merely being. Mad that they had showed up near the end of my shift and mad that I was the one that had to show them how to lift and sort a bunch of blasted stone. My eyes felt hot and I blinked back the stinging sensation. I was tired and hungry and now--

Tap tap tap.

A sharp finger gently prodded me in the arm. I looked to my side and immediately saw stark silvery eyes staring back at me, comparable to the very moon even. They were set against ashen skin and framed in rich, raven hair. A scrawny boy that might have been around my age of nine or ten summers was staring at me with wary curiosity, a pair of furred ears pinned back anxiously over his hair, though at my glance, one quirked up in response as if ready to catch any utterance from me, but I just stared back at him.

Those moon-like eyes flickered around searchingly on me, but eventually turned to his other side, and it was only then I noticed the smaller figure beside him. Another miqo’te, this one female, in stark resemblance to the boy, but smaller somewhat in size. They held hands tightly.

He nodded to her and she nodded back, reaching into her clothing and passing off something that he just as quickly passed off to me. The hushed way he went about it immediately had me on edge, scooting in closer and reaching for it curiously, feeling the boy press something gritty and cool into my palm. I anxiously glanced to the sentry leading us nearby but he didn’t seem to notice, so I hastily brought it to my clothes and peeked from between the folds and my hand.

A little piece of jerky was pinned there. My breath went still. How the hell had he gotten this? Were they supposed to have this? I looked around nervously again, but by the time my questioning and incredulous gaze reached the boy’s silvery one, I was only met with a meek smile. It nearly broadened, and I’m not quite sure if it was because of the way I was looking at him, but he leaned in towards my ear nonetheless, his whisper hushed and warm against my ear.

“Thank you.”

How? What? Why? Even as he shifted back into place in line, I was just staring at him dubiously. My fingers started quivering around the piece of dried meat still pinned protectively against my clothing and under my hand. How did hey get this? What did mean by “thank you”? I hadn’t done anything… why would he do and say such a thing?

I was still lost when he looked over again, and for the first time in a long time, I saw humor dance in someone’s eyes, those two ears over his head flicking once. The boy started gesturing vaguely with his clawed hands, and at first I didn’t quite catch it, but eventually I noticed he was making a motion towards his own clothing as if for me to mirror the action of hiding the jerky into my own, which I immediately did, taking in what felt like the first gulp of air since the miqo’te’s hand clasped to mine.

It was just a slice of jerky, but I felt like I had a stolen coin purse laced to my belt by the time I turned my attention forward to keep in step with the others. But suddenly I wasn’t letting my mind focus on what gruel I was missing back at the encampment or the rest I could be having, I was wondering who the hell would risk holding onto a piece of meat for this long and then give it up to a stranger while in the presence of one of the sentries??

When I felt calmer, I could finally look back to the pair in question. They weren’t looking at me anymore, still walking hand in hand with one another as they made their way down the path that would mark possibly many days of labor ahead of them. But he had smiled. He smiled.

Who were they? 

[imagineyourstars]

May i ask for a fluff scenario with tsundere Koga? I was reading Dark Night Halloween and when Rei and Kaoru were holding Anzu princess-style and Adonis was like "Let me carry her" Well i really wanna see Koga walking in and he sees her being held and he wants to hold her too but he's too shy to admit it?? And when he gets to hold her finally he tries very hard to hide the fact that hes super happy about it lmao (Also it would be funny to see his reaction when she wakes up in his arms hahah)

This scene happens during the Dark Night Halloweenstory in terms of continuity, so I thought it would be okay to post it now !Koga’s really fun to write for, he’s always showing his tsun side but deep downhe’s such a cutie ! as usual, it ended up being a lil bit different from the prompt, but I hope you like this as much as I liked writing it ♥ - mod mademoiselle

“I have to confess I wouldappreciate it if you did not move around so much. I am rather worried you mayfall out of my arms…”

You were obstinately staring at Rei’s chest, intent on not watching him in the eye. Even then, you could hearhis smirk. You were trying your best not to give him too much of a reaction,since it was exactly what he was waiting for… but well, being bridal-carried by ahandsome guy didn’t exactly happen to you every day. His face was getting waytoo close to yours, which should definitely be illegal when you’re so good-looking… and did he always smell that good?

“Oh my, it seems you have becomeembarrassed… You do have a cute side to you as well, after all…” Noticing youwere pretty sensitive to his charm, Rei had seemingly decided to tease yousome more. You huffed your cheeks in protest, prompting him to chuckle.

“Come on, just let me walk on myown… It’s not even that far !” You struggled a bit against him, but he onlyhugged you closer to him. “Rei, please, I can just—whoa !” Your constantstruggling caused you to slip from Rei’s arms, and his grip on you immediatelygot tighter as a response.

“What did I just tell you, mmh ?What a naughty child you are. Please just stay still and enjoy the ride…” Thatsmirk of his was irritating, so you opted to just hide your face against his chest again.Besides, you were fairly sure you were blushing hard, by that point, and youdidn’t want him to know just how flustered he was making you…

Rei justchuckled, gently stroking your back as his steps got a hint faster. You didn’tknow where he was now, but the voices of the guests here for the Halloween party weregetting louder, so you supposed he must have been going back to the stage area.Familiar voices could be heard as well…

“Sakuma-san, you’re always bargingin fashionably late, huh ? That’s— whoa, why are you carrying them in your arms? Didn’t we agree I was the one who got them all to myself today ?” Oh, great. Kaoru was here and he hadn’tmissed a second of you being bridal-carried by Rei, as embarrassing as it was.Part of you felt like hiding your face in Rei’s neck until everyone forgotabout you, while the other one kind of wanted to protest against that wholething. Seriously, why were they always teasing you ?

“I cannot remember having everagreed with you on that matter, Kaoru-kun. My personal policy is to never agreeto anything I might regret, after all.” Although your cheeks were on fire bynow, you raised your head to defend yourself at least just a bit, before one ofthem kidnapped you to take you home or something.

“Rei, can you please let me down now ? People are staring and—”

“Yeah, let them down, will you ?They don’t want you to hold them, can’t you see ? Hey, do you want me to carryyou instead ? I’ll be super gentle, I promise~…” You sharply turned your headtowards Kaoru, trying to give him your best death glare, but it only promptedhim to laugh.  Even Rei tried his best tomuffle a little chuckle. “Oh, don’t look at me with those eyes ! I won’t touchyou in weird places or anything~ Unless you want me to… ?” You were about tojust surrender when a huge shadow suddenly loomed right above you.Could it be… ? Did someone suddenly come to rescue you ? There was still hope, after all… ?

“I will carry them. They lookscared.” Before you could even protest, strong arms had gently lifted you andyou found yourself pressed rather close to Adonis’ chest. “Don’t be afraid. I won’thurt you.” He was gently gazing down at you, but that was just making it somuch harder to look at him in the eye.

“Oh, come on, it was my turn~ Youcan’t read the mood at all, can you, Adonis ?” Kaoru was still all smiles, evenas he glared at his two bandmates “Well, I can’tlose to you guys. Guess I’ll try to sweep them off their feet another time,when— whoa, what’s that scary presence I feel ?!”

Well, to be fair, he was right. The atmospherefelt just a bit… off. Like someone was extremely pissed and extremely close toyou. And was that sound… growling ?

“I wonder… Why is it I sense anoverflow of jealousy ? Could it be that someoneis feeling left out ?” Rei looked like his day was just made, for somereason you didn’t understand yet. It’s only when the growling became louderthat you decided to investigate, looking around as best you could when Adoniswas still holding you in his arms.

Koga was staring right back at youwhen you met his eyes, and then looked away as soon as you did, only to glance at you again exactly when you did too. He seemed to be sulking, crouching onthe ground and half-heartedly patting the dogs playing nearby. There was theway he was glaring at the other UNDEAD boys too… could it be that he wasfeeling jealous… ?

“Doggie wants to play too, can’t yousee, Sakuma-san ? If he doesn’t man up, we’re going to steal his special someone’s heart away, youknow ?” Hey, was Kaoru talking about you ? You glared at him again, but helooked more amused than terrified. “Come on, I said you shouldn’t look at melike that, alright ? I feel like there’s another Doggie staring at me~” Kogagroaned in response, getting up immediately and making a beeline to Kaoru in away that seemed pretty confrontational to you.

“Did ya insult me, ya brainlessplayboy ? Itchin’ for a fight, huh ? I can take ya anytime, ya bastard !” Kogawas physically exuding anger at that point, but Kaoru only laughed in response.Adonis moved away from them a bit, visibly worried you’d get caught in thefight.

“Aren’t you just trying to distracteveryone’s attention away from your little sulking episode ? You know, they won’tknow what you feel unless you tell them directly… like I always tell them howmuch I love them !” The blond blew a playful kiss in your direction, which youpointedly ignored, making Rei chuckle.

“I’m not a creepy flirt like ya ! Y’allthink I care, huh ? Well, I don’t ! Heard me ? I don’t give a shit about allthat !” 

You’d have believed him, but honestly, he didn’t look credible at all. Rei and Kaoru just started laughing,and to be fair you had to bite your lip to fight off a smile too. He was just socute ! His cheeks were just a bit reddish and his hands were tightly balledinto fists… and there was the fact he wouldn’t stop stealing little glances atyou too.

“It seems Doggie is just waving histail furiously and asking to be pet. Would you spare some of your time for him,my dear ? We would all greatly appreciate it if you could stop his jealousrampage right there.” Rei was talking to you now, smiling invitingly in a waythat just screamed “hang out with Koga” to you. 

Well, it wasn’t like youdisliked Koga or anything, but… would it be okay ? You sneakily looked at Kogato assess how he’d feel about this, and sure enough, he just so happened to beglancing at you too. You both hastily looked down, prompting some more chucklesfrom Rei.

“Then, I guess that’s all set~. Let’sjust go get the stage ready, you two.” Kaoru turned away without a care in theworld, leaving you and Koga to your embarrassment. Rei soon followed suit, andthen it was only you, Koga and your embarrassment.

Well, more like you, Koga, yourembarrassment, and Adonis, who was still dutifully carrying you.

Koga was pointedly looking away at abush of flowers, while you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself. AfterAdonis had finally accepted to put you down, you’d just awkwardly agreed with Koga that itwould be nice to go outside and take a bit of fresh air. He’d brought you alongto the school’s gardens, and there you were, sitting on the grass together inheavy silence.

You suddenly noticed the moon was beautiful,that night. The entire gardens seemed illuminated in an eerie, pale light. Howfitting for Halloween… You jumped a bit when Koga suddenly raised his voice abit.

“So, um. It’s pretty, right.” Younodded, avoiding eye contact. There was no way you could look at him in the eyenow. Especially since, you know, he was stilltightly gripping your hand.

“Yeah, it really is…” That awkwardsilence loomed above the two of you once again. Koga’s fingers twitched a bitagainst yours when he spoke again.

“Sorry about those two. They’realways, ya know, doing whatever they want. ‘m sorry if they made ya feel awkward.”You laughed softly, and Koga seemed mesmerized by the sight, but he shylylooked away once you noticed.

“No, it’s fine ! I don’t mind,really.” He seemed a bit relieved by your words, but tried not to show it toomuch.

“ ‘s that so.” Silence again. Youdidn’t mind it too much, at first. Spending time alone with Koga was sometimes surprisingly quiet, but you’d grown to like it. It was like you silently enjoyed each other’spresence. But once Koga started to move around restlessly, you suspected there was something he was not telling you.

“Is something wrong ?” It was Koga’sturn to jump in surprise at your sudden question, and he was very much lookinglike you interrupted him in the middle of some important moral dilemma.

“Uh, no, I’m… nah, ‘m all good.” Hetried to look cool in front of you, but everything on his face screamed he wasnot telling you the whole truth. His hand’s grip got just a bit tighter, too…was he still bothered by what happened earlier ?

“You know, Koga…” You’d worked upenough courage to look at him in the eye by now, even shifting just a bit closer tohim. His eyes slightly widened at your sudden closeness, even though he triedto play it cool. “If you’re still worried about Kaoru and Rei, I really don’tmind—”

“Nah, it’s not that ! I don’t give a damn about them ! I’m just…” Hesuddenly stopped, realizing he’d said too much. You gently stroked the back ofhis hand with your thumb to coax him into explaining, and the sudden intimacyof that little touch made him shiver. “… I can’t hide anythin’ from ya, really.It’s just, well… ikindawantedtotrytooactually.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear—” Kogagroaned, cheeks turning bright pink.

“I said ! I wanna try too !” Youwere left blinking in surprise. You didn’t think he’d be so honest about it…Mistaking your surprise for shock, Koga grimaced before hastily explaininghimself. “Sorry for shoutin’, I’m just… I mean, it’s okay if ya don’t want to,I guess…”

“No, I actually want to try too…” Hewas taken aback by your answer, staring at you one second too long. If his wolf ears were real, you were pretty sure they’d be perking up happily by thatpoint.

“For real ?” You nodded, and Koga’sface was briefly illuminated by a happy, goofy smile you’d never ever seen onhim before. He very quickly went back to his usual frown, though. “I mean, i-ifya really want to, then I guess the great me can hold ya for a bit…”

Koga’s arms gently slipped on eitherside of your waist, bringing you close to him until your back rested againsthis chest. You could feel his heart beating erratically, and he just huffedwhen he noticed you smiling.

“… I’m not nervous or anything”, hesaid defiantly. You just smiled in response, cuddling a bit closer to him. Hisarms were gently embracing you, and he softly rested his face in the nape your neck, inhalingdeeply before sighing happily. “Man, this is the best…”

You hummed in agreement, feelingyourself dozing off. He was just so warm, and you could definitely use a littlenap… “I might fall asleep if you keep that up, Koga…”

“Huh ? Now ? I mean, not like Icare, but…” He seemed to be working up the courage to tell you something, andeventually blurted out : “Can I just, y’know…”

You hummed airily. It was clear fromhis face alone that he wanted to kiss you. Maybe it was how he’d sneak little glances atyour lips and lick his own without noticing… His eyes widened in surprise, andhe straightened up without thinking. “Really ?! I mean, well… I won’t holdback, then.” He may have intended this as a warning, but the fact he wasgrinning happily kind of ruined it. Not that you minded…

Koga let his lips hover over yoursone second too long, chuckling as he stole one last look to your face. “Man,yer cute, ya know that ?” Before you could protest, he was kissing you softly,stealing just one nibble at your bottom lip before letting you go way too fast. He waslooking away pointedly, cheeks just a hint rosy, when you looked up at him insurprise.

“Y’know, if ya keep that up… I’m seriously gonna lose control and eat ya up.” His lips traced along your cheek and jaw, leaving light bites on your neck before finally settling way too close to your ear. You didn’t know if it was his voice or the cold evening breeze that made you shiver.

“And I’m gonna leave bites, so that those bastards know yer mine.”

[fear-god-shun-evil]

Walking Out of the Spiritual Famine, I Found the Church That Has the Work of the Holy Spirit

By Yanzhen, Taiwan

I started to believe in the Lord since I was little, and I am the fourth generation of believers in my family. After I got married and moved to Taiwan in 2005, I continued taking part in serving the church and actively attended Bible study groups and all kinds of classes, and I really enjoyed having gatherings and reading the Bible together with my brothers and sisters. But good times don’t last long. In 2008, I found that the pastor always preached on the same old things, to the point that in the Lord’s Day meetings, as long as I took a look at the topic on the leaflet, I would know what he would preach, which verses he would quote and what stories he would tell. Although the pastor often invited missionaries from other churches to give sermons, what they said was virtually the same. During the meetings on the Lord’s Day, no one showed much enthusiasm but instead all felt drowsy. Our spirits felt dark and parched, unable to gain sustenance. Our conditions could not be resolved and our prayers were dry and insipid. The number of people attending church gatherings and Bible study groups got fewer and fewer, and the co-workers were engaging in jealous disputes. Seeing this, I stopped serving the church and wanted to find a church where I could gain provision for my life.

Later, I went to a church where many people were coming to gatherings. Externally, it appeared to be very prosperous and the brothers and sisters there welcomed me very enthusiastically, but I still felt something was wrong. This is because the pastor’s sermons always focused on how to get rich and on how to obtain blessings. Besides, the church often invited some entrepreneurs to talk about how they became rich and allowed them to sell health supplements or makeup products. Or they would invite some preachers to preach sermons, who, however, only focused on promoting their own books and CDs, and they encouraged the brothers and sisters to buy them, saying that part of the sales would go to the church and that buying those things was equal to making offerings to the Lord. Among those who went to church, many didn’t truly yearn for the Lord but came to build connections to sell direct sales products, houses, or insurance—the church had become completely commercialized.

Seeing these scenes was like a bucket of cold water dumped over me, and I thought of these words of the Lord Jesus in Matthew 21:13: “It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but you have made it a den of thieves.” When I compared our church’s situation to these words, I felt it had become a place of trade and a den for thieves just like the temple two thousand years ago, no longer a place where the Lord was worshiped. Disappointed, my spirit grew more stagnant and withered. I felt afraid and uneasy and wondered: Will the Lord detest and abandon me if I remain in such a church? Therefore, I went to several other churches, but the situations there were pretty much the same: The pastors had nothing to preach about, and the believers paid no heed to the Lord’s teachings but all followed social trends. Unable to find a church in which the Lord was present, I felt very disappointed and prayed to the Lord, “O Lord! How has the church become like this? Now I can’t feel Your presence. Where can I go to find a church that has the provision of the water of life? I ask You to lead me.”

Once when I went back to my original church to visit my brothers and sisters, I was surprised to find that most of the seats there stood empty, which made such a big church look like a barren wasteland. It turned out that many things happened after I left the church: The pastor had nothing to preach, so he stole the recordings of sermons by foreign pastors and then was exposed and expelled from the church. After that, the church was divided and slid into chaos where everyone slandered and fought against each other. Seeing this situation of the church, I again chose to leave and continued with my search.

At one gathering I came across Sister Wu from my original church, who, after finding out that I was still looking for a church, enthusiastically invited me to the church that the pastor had newly established. She told me that the pastor stole the recordings of sermons so that the brothers and sisters could hear good sermons and she hoped I could understand. Though I was unable to approve of what the pastor had done, I still went to his church with a shred of hope that the church could be revived, only to find that he was still preaching the same old stuff. In response to the believers’ growing cold in their faith and love, the pastor organized outings on holidays, camping and mountain climbing for them and asked them to hold a second wedding in the church, and he also invested in funeral business. The church then became a place for wedding ceremonies and funerals and was completely secularized, losing the guidance and blessings of the Lord. Seeing this plunged me into utter despair.

Looking back to the past few years, every time I went to a church, full of hope, I would always leave there feeling discouraged. The pastors had nothing to preach and the believers grew cold in their faith. They all loved personal desires, not the truth, and were fighting against one another. I myself had no enlightenment or illumination from reading the Bible, and couldn’t feel the sensation of being together with the Lord when praying, and I felt really lost without a direction. I couldn’t help but think of Revelation 7:16–17: “They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the middle of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them to living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.” But where is the living wellspring flowing from the throne? I wondered. Why couldn’t I find it?

Later, I continued to search for a church that had the work of the Holy Spirit on the Internet, and I thanked God for caring for me.

Shortly before Christmas in 2017, I met Brother Lin from France and Brother Chen from Italy on Facebook. After a period of contact with them, I felt both of them were devout Christians, and we then often had gatherings and studied the Bible together on the Internet. Once when we were sharing our own experiences of faith, I told them about how I felt withered and dark in my spirit and couldn’t feel the Lord’s presence these years, how the pastors sermonized about nothing but stale truisms, unable to supply us with life, and how the churches I’d visited were all pretty much the same, without the guidance of the Lord.

Brother Lin said, “We are now in the last days. The desolation is not just occurring in one church. Instead, the entire religious world is now desolate. Pastors and elders have nothing to preach while believers are negative and weak in general. It is prophesied in the Book of Revelation: ‘I know your works, that you are neither cold nor hot: I would you were cold or hot. So then because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of My mouth’ (Revelation 3:15–16). Isn’t the desolate situation of the churches now just like the church of the Laodiceans? If we remain in such a church, the outcome would be very dangerous.”

Brother Chen went on fellowshiping, “The Bible also prophesies: ‘Behold, the days come, said the Lord Jehovah, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of Jehovah’ (Amos 8:11). From this we can see that a crucial reason for the desolation of the church is that people no longer follow the way of God or listen to His words. It’s just like the later stages of the Age of Law—the temple that had once been full of God’s glory became a place of commerce, a den of thieves. The main reason for this is that the Jewish leaders no longer followed the laws of Jehovah God. The priests made poor sacrifices to cheat God, they observed man’s teachings while discarded God’s commandments, they devoured widows’ assets and had completely departed from God’s way, thus being detested and rejected by God. Another reason is that the work of the Holy Spirit had moved. As the Lord Jesus carried out a stage of new work outside the temple, the Holy Spirit no longer worked in those who kept the name of Jehovah God and clung obstinately to the laws, but instead turned to uphold the Lord Jesus’ work. At that time, all those who accepted the Lord Jesus’ work of redemption enjoyed the peace and joy of the Holy Spirit’s work, had a new path of practice, and received the sustenance of the living water of life, whereas those Jewish priests, Pharisees and believers who clung to the law and rejected and resisted the Lord Jesus’ work all lost the work of the Holy Spirit and lived in darkness.

“Nowadays, the religious world is desolate and there are more and more iniquities going on in the churches. The primary reason for this is that religious leaders, pastors and elders do not follow the Lord’s way or preach the Lord’s words. They don’t at all exalt the Lord in their work and preaching, but instead only preach about biblical knowledge and spiritual theories, and they also engage in jealous disputes and struggle over position. Many pastors and elders even follow worldly trends, seek fashion, and lust for money; they promote various kinds of products in the churches and lead the believers down the secular road, with the result that they’ve become just like worldly people. This is why God has abandoned the religious venues and no longer maintains the churches as in the Age of Grace.”

Brother Lin continued, “Sadly, pastors and elders still don’t understand the work of the Holy Spirit. They cling to the religious churches preaching some dry doctrines rather than lead the brothers and sisters to search for a church where the Holy Spirit is at work, which results in the churches growing more and more desolate. Therefore, we must seek a place of ‘rain’ and follow the Lamb’s footsteps, for only then can our parched spirits be sated. Those who fail to follow the footsteps of the Lamb won’t be able to gain the sustenance of the living waters and will die of spiritual thirst and hunger.”

The fellowship of the two brothers enabled me to understand that the desolation in the church was caused by the religious leaders deviating from the Lord’s way and failing to follow the work of the Holy Spirit. When I considered it, I realized it was true. In the several churches I had visited, the pastors and elders preached without a shred of new light, yet they didn’t seek for God’s footsteps but instead led the brothers and sisters to pursue worldly trends and sold all manner of goods in the churches. The believers were all spiritually parched and famished and lacked the provision of the water of life. Faced with the desolation in the church, I thought, it is imperative for me to find a church that has the work of the Holy Spirit, so that I won’t be eliminated by the Lord like the foolish virgins.

Later, Brother Chen sent me a passage of word: “God will accomplish this fact: He will make all people throughout the universe come before Him, and worship the God on earth, and His work in other places will cease, and people will be forced to seek the true way. It will be like Joseph: Everyone came to him for food, and bowed down to him, for he had things to eat. In order to avoid famine people will be forced to seek the true way. The entire religious community is suffering severe famine, and only the God of today is the wellspring of living water, possessed of the ever-flowing wellspring provided for the enjoyment of man, and people will come and depend on Him” (“The Millennial Kingdom Has Arrived”).

Brother Chen then fellowshiped, “In fact, the desolation in the religious world today contains God’s intentions within. Through this, God is forcing those who believe in God with true hearts and who love the truth to leave the religion and search for the footprints of God’s work. The Lord Jesus once prophesied: ‘I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. However, when He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth: for He shall not speak of Himself; but whatever He shall hear, that shall He speak: and He will show you things to come’ (John 16:12–13). And it says in Revelation 3:13: ‘He that has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’ From these prophecies, we can see that the Lord will return in the last days to express the truth and perform His work to save people. Only by focusing on hearing God’s voice will we be able to welcome the Lord’s return. Sister, let me tell you some good news. The Lord Jesus has actually returned as the incarnate Almighty God. He has expressed millions of words that can have man purified and saved and is performing the work of judgment and purification. The judgment work of Almighty God in the last days just fulfills the prophecy in the Bible: ‘He that rejects Me, and receives not My words, has one that judges him: the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day’ (John 12:48). All who hear God’s voice and then accept and obey God’s judgment work in the last days are the wise virgins who are raptured up before God’s throne to attend the wedding feast of the Lamb, and they are able to enjoy the provision of the water of life that flows from the throne and restore their original faith and love. Those who refuse to accept the work of Almighty God, however, are people who fail to keep up with God’s footsteps, and they shall be eliminated and cannot obtain the work of the Holy Spirit.”

After listening to Brother Chen’s fellowship, I suddenly realized: Over these years, the church has been desolate and we have been spiritually parched and famished—it turns out God’s will is for us to seek the true way so that we won’t die of spiritual thirst and hunger in the wilderness where there is no provision of the living water. I truly gained a lot from today’s meeting, through which my longstanding confusion had finally been resolved. I had never expected that I would hear the news of the Lord’s return when the church was at its most desolate. Crying tears of joy, I thought I should hurry to seek and investigate Almighty God’s work of the last days. However, I still didn’t understand the difference between the last days’ work of Almighty God and the work of the Lord Jesus. But as I had something else to do, I arranged a time for our next gathering with the brothers and then got offline.

Several days later, I got online for the gathering with the brothers. In response to my question raised at our last meeting, Brother Chen read a passage of Almighty God’s words for me, “When Jesus came into the world of man, He brought the Age of Grace and ended the Age of Law. During the last days, God once more became flesh, and when He became flesh this time, He ended the Age of Grace and brought the Age of Kingdom. All those who accept the second incarnation of God will be led into the Age of Kingdom, and be able to personally accept the guidance of God. Though Jesus did much work among man, He only completed the redemption of all mankind and became man’s sin offering, and did not rid man of all his corrupt disposition. Fully saving man from the influence of Satan not only required Jesus to take on the sins of man as the sin offering, but also required God to do greater work to completely rid man of his disposition, which has been corrupted by Satan. And so, after man was forgiven his sins, God has returned to flesh to lead man into the new age, and begun the work of chastisement and judgment, and this work has brought man into a higher realm. All those who submit under His dominion shall enjoy higher truth and receive greater blessings. They shall truly live in the light, and shall gain the truth, the way, and the life.”

Brother Chen then fellowshiped, “From God’s words, we can see that in the Age of Grace, the Lord Jesus came in the flesh to carry out a stage of work of redemption, providing man with the way of repentance and teaching them to be tolerant and patient, to love their enemies, and to forgive others seventy times seven times and so on. He was also crucified as a sin offering for us mankind, thus redeeming us from sin so that we would no longer be condemned by the law for committing sins. As long as we obeyed the Lord’s teachings, prayed and called on His name, confessed and repented our sins to Him, we would receive His salvation and be absolved of our sins. But what is undeniable is that our sinful natures are still deeply rooted within us that we are always committing sins and resisting God in spite of ourselves, living a painful life of sinning in the day and confessing at night. So people like us are not qualified to enter God’s kingdom, for the Lord Jesus once said, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, Whoever commits sin is the servant of sin. And the servant stays not in the house for ever: but the son stays ever’ (John 8:34–35). Therefore, in the last days, God has incarnated once again to perform a stage of work of judgment beginning with the house of God on the foundation of the Lord Jesus’ work to thoroughly purify and save mankind. Almighty God has imparted to us all the truths that we need to be cleansed, saved and perfected, using His words to judge and expose our sinful natures, such as arrogance and self-importance, crookedness and deceit, selfishness and despicableness, and at the same time showing us the path to cast off our corruption and gain purification. Through experiencing God’s judgment and chastisement, we can gradually gain an understanding of our own satanic nature as well as a knowledge of God’s righteous disposition, develop a heart of reverence for God, becoming willing to forsake the flesh and put God’s words into practice. As a result, our corrupt dispositions will change to varying degrees and our lives will continuously make progress. From this we can understand that the redemptive work of the Lord Jesus was to absolve our sins while the judgment work of Almighty God in the last days is to eliminate our sins. If we only accept the Lord Jesus’ work of redemption but don’t accept the utterances of the returned Lord or go through the judgment work of God in the last days, then the sinful nature within us will never be cleansed and we can never obtain salvation and enter into the kingdom of heaven.”

Thanks be to God! My heart was suddenly brightened. It turned out that the Lord Jesus did the work of redemption, which was to absolve our sins, and that the incarnate Almighty God has expressed the truth to do the work of judging and purifying man, which is to cleanse and change us humans who are corrupted by Satan. I was so fortunate to be able to accept the judgment work of the returned Lord and have the opportunity to gain purification.

Later, I came across these words of God, “For there is a time when My glory leaves Canaan, and there is also a time when My glory leaves the chosen. Furthermore, there is a time when My glory leaves the whole earth, causing it to grow dim and plunging it into darkness. Even the land of Canaan shall not see the sunlight; all men will lose their faith, but none can bear to leave the fragrance of the land of Canaan. Only when I pass into the new heaven and earth do I take the other part of My glory and reveal it first in the land of Canaan, causing a glimmer of light to shine forth in the whole earth, sunk in the pitchy darkness of night, to allow the whole earth to come to the light. Let men all over the earth come to draw strength from the power of the light, allowing My glory to increase and appear anew to every nation. Let all humanity realize that I have long ago come to the human world and long ago brought My glory from Israel to the East; for My glory shines from the East, where it was brought over from the Age of Grace to this day. But it was from Israel that I departed and from there that I arrived in the East. Only when the light of the East gradually turns white will the darkness across the earth begin to turn to light, and only then will man discover that I have long ago gone from Israel and am rising anew in the East. Having once descended into Israel and later departed from it, I cannot again be born into Israel, because My work leads all of the universe and, what is more, the lightning flashes straight from East to West. For this reason I have descended in the East and brought Canaan to the people of the East. I wish to bring people from all over the earth to the land of Canaan, and so I continue to issue forth utterances in the land of Canaan to control the entire universe. At this time, there is no light in all the earth apart from Canaan, and all men are imperiled by hunger and cold.” After reading God’s words, I was deeply stirred: All these years, I’ve always felt like I was wandering in the wilderness, trying to find a church that has the work of the Holy Spirit. But every time I went to a church in hope, I would always leave in disappointment. These years, all the denominations have become desolate and only The Church of Almighty God is thriving rapidly. Their movies, videos and other works are constantly being released online, and more and more people are turning back to Almighty God—this is indeed the fruit obtained by the work of the Holy Spirit. Today, God has departed with His glory from the churches of the Age of Grace and has carried out a new work. Almighty God’s kingdom gospel in the last days has spread rapidly from east to west, which is really as the lightning flashes from the East to the West. God’s words possess authority and power, bringing us the work of the new age like a flash of light illuminating the dark sky. Now the work of the Holy Spirit has shifted, so I should immediately keep pace with it and accept the personal watering and shepherding of Christ in the last days.

In the following months, I hungrily devoured the words of Almighty God and watched the movies, sketches, music videos, and all kinds of articles about the testimonies of returning to God, which greatly edified me. Not only that, but Almighty God’s words have opened up all the mysteries in the Scriptures I didn’t understand before. I therefore became completely certain that Almighty God is the returned Lord Jesus.

God’s words say, “The love of God extends forth like the water of a spring, and is given to you, and to me, and to him, and to all those who truly seek the truth and await the appearance of God.” Now I feel enriched every day and have enjoyed being provided with the water of living life that flows from the throne. My spirit is greatly satisfied and I no longer have to search bitterly everywhere. In order to repay God’s love, I am now spreading the gospel with the brothers and sisters, trying our best to lead all of those who thirst for God’s appearance and work before His throne. Thanks be to God!

[love-god-forever]

I Have Found the Church That Has the Work of the Holy Spirit

By Yanzhen, Taiwan

I started to believe in the Lord since I was little, and I am the fourth generation of believers in my family. After I got married and moved to Taiwan in 2005, I continued taking part in serving the church and actively attended Bible study groups and all kinds of classes, and I really enjoyed having gatherings and reading the Bible together with my brothers and sisters. But good times don’t last long.

In 2008, I found that the pastor always preached on the same old things, to the point that in the Lord’s Day meetings, as long as I took a look at the topic on the leaflet, I would know what he would preach, which verses he would quote and what stories he would tell. Although the pastor often invited missionaries from other churches to give sermons, what they said was virtually the same. During the meetings on the Lord’s Day, no one showed much enthusiasm but instead all felt drowsy. Our spirits felt dark and parched, unable to gain sustenance. Our conditions could not be resolved and our prayers were dry and insipid. The number of people attending church gatherings and Bible study groups got fewer and fewer, and the co-workers were engaging in jealous disputes. Seeing this, I stopped serving the church and wanted to find a church where I could gain provision for my life.

Later, I went to a church where many people were coming to gatherings. Externally, it appeared to be very prosperous and the brothers and sisters there welcomed me very enthusiastically, but I still felt something was wrong. This is because the pastor’s sermons always focused on how to get rich and on how to obtain blessings. Besides, the church often invited some entrepreneurs to talk about how they became rich and allowed them to sell health supplements or makeup products. Or they would invite some preachers to preach sermons, who, however, only focused on promoting their own books and CDs, and they encouraged the brothers and sisters to buy them, saying that part of the sales would go to the church and that buying those things was equal to making offerings to the Lord. Among those who went to church, many didn’t truly yearn for the Lord but came to build connections to sell direct sales products, houses, or insurance—the church had become completely commercialized.

Seeing these scenes was like a bucket of cold water dumped over me, and I thought of these words of the Lord Jesus in Matthew 21:13: “It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but you have made it a den of thieves.” When I compared our church’s situation to these words, I felt it had become a place of trade and a den for thieves just like the temple two thousand years ago, no longer a place where the Lord was worshiped. Disappointed, my spirit grew more stagnant and withered. I felt afraid and uneasy and wondered: Will the Lord detest and abandon me if I remain in such a church? Therefore, I went to several other churches, but the situations there were pretty much the same: The pastors had nothing to preach about, and the believers paid no heed to the Lord’s teachings but all followed social trends. Unable to find a church in which the Lord was present, I felt very disappointed and prayed to the Lord, “O Lord! How has the church become like this? Now I can’t feel Your presence. Where can I go to find a church that has the provision of the water of life? I ask You to lead me.”

Once when I went back to my original church to visit my brothers and sisters, I was surprised to find that most of the seats there stood empty, which made such a big church look like a barren wasteland. It turned out that many things happened after I left the church: The pastor had nothing to preach, so he stole the recordings of sermons by foreign pastors and then was exposed and expelled from the church. After that, the church was divided and slid into chaos where everyone slandered and fought against each other. Seeing this situation of the church, I again chose to leave and continued with my search.

At one gathering I came across Sister Wu from my original church, who, after finding out that I was still looking for a church, enthusiastically invited me to the church that the pastor had newly established. She told me that the pastor stole the recordings of sermons so that the brothers and sisters could hear good sermons and she hoped I could understand. Though I was unable to approve of what the pastor had done, I still went to his church with a shred of hope that the church could be revived, only to find that he was still preaching the same old stuff. In response to the believers’ growing cold in their faith and love, the pastor organized outings on holidays, camping and mountain climbing for them and asked them to hold a second wedding in the church, and he also invested in funeral business. The church then became a place for wedding ceremonies and funerals and was completely secularized, losing the guidance and blessings of the Lord. Seeing this plunged me into utter despair.

Looking back to the past few years, every time I went to a church, full of hope, I would always leave there feeling discouraged. The pastors had nothing to preach and the believers grew cold in their faith. They all loved personal desires, not the truth, and were fighting against one another. I myself had no enlightenment or illumination from reading the Bible, and couldn’t feel the sensation of being together with the Lord when praying, and I felt really lost without a direction. I couldn’t help but think of Revelation 7:16–17: “They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the middle of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them to living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.” But where is the living wellspring flowing from the throne? I wondered. Why couldn’t I find it?

Later, I continued to search for a church that had the work of the Holy Spirit on the Internet, and I thanked God for caring for me.

Shortly before Christmas in 2017, I met Brother Lin from France and Brother Chen from Italy on Facebook. After a period of contact with them, I felt both of them were devout Christians, and we then often had gatherings and studied the Bible together on the Internet. Once when we were sharing our own experiences of faith, I told them about how I felt withered and dark in my spirit and couldn’t feel the Lord’s presence these years, how the pastors sermonized about nothing but stale truisms, unable to supply us with life, and how the churches I’d visited were all pretty much the same, without the guidance of the Lord.

Brother Lin said, “We are now in the last days. The desolation is not just occurring in one church. Instead, the entire religious world is now desolate. Pastors and elders have nothing to preach while believers are negative and weak in general. It is prophesied in the Book of Revelation: ‘I know your works, that you are neither cold nor hot: I would you were cold or hot. So then because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of My mouth’ (Revelation 3:15–16). Isn’t the desolate situation of the churches now just like the church of the Laodiceans? If we remain in such a church, the outcome would be very dangerous.”

Brother Chen went on fellowshiping, “The Bible also prophesies: ‘Behold, the days come, said the Lord Jehovah, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of Jehovah’ (Amos 8:11). From this we can see that a crucial reason for the desolation of the church is that people no longer follow the way of God or listen to His words. It’s just like the later stages of the Age of Law—the temple that had once been full of God’s glory became a place of commerce, a den of thieves. The main reason for this is that the Jewish leaders no longer followed the laws of Jehovah God. The priests made poor sacrifices to cheat God, they observed man’s teachings while discarded God’s commandments, they devoured widows’ assets and had completely departed from God’s way, thus being detested and rejected by God. Another reason is that the work of the Holy Spirit had moved. As the Lord Jesus carried out a stage of new work outside the temple, the Holy Spirit no longer worked in those who kept the name of Jehovah God and clung obstinately to the laws, but instead turned to uphold the Lord Jesus’ work. At that time, all those who accepted the Lord Jesus’ work of redemption enjoyed the peace and joy of the Holy Spirit’s work, had a new path of practice, and received the sustenance of the living water of life, whereas those Jewish priests, Pharisees and believers who clung to the law and rejected and resisted the Lord Jesus’ work all lost the work of the Holy Spirit and lived in darkness.

“Nowadays, the religious world is desolate and there are more and more iniquities going on in the churches. The primary reason for this is that religious leaders, pastors and elders do not follow the Lord’s way or preach the Lord’s words. They don’t at all exalt the Lord in their work and preaching, but instead only preach about biblical knowledge and spiritual theories, and they also engage in jealous disputes and struggle over position. Many pastors and elders even follow worldly trends, seek fashion, and lust for money; they promote various kinds of products in the churches and lead the believers down the secular road, with the result that they’ve become just like worldly people. This is why God has abandoned the religious venues and no longer maintains the churches as in the Age of Grace.”

Brother Lin continued, “Sadly, pastors and elders still don’t understand the work of the Holy Spirit. They cling to the religious churches preaching some dry doctrines rather than lead the brothers and sisters to search for a church where the Holy Spirit is at work, which results in the churches growing more and more desolate. Therefore, we must seek a place of ‘rain’ and follow the Lamb’s footsteps, for only then can our parched spirits be sated. Those who fail to follow the footsteps of the Lamb won’t be able to gain the sustenance of the living waters and will die of spiritual thirst and hunger.”

The fellowship of the two brothers enabled me to understand that the desolation in the church was caused by the religious leaders deviating from the Lord’s way and failing to follow the work of the Holy Spirit. When I considered it, I realized it was true. In the several churches I had visited, the pastors and elders preached without a shred of new light, yet they didn’t seek for God’s footsteps but instead led the brothers and sisters to pursue worldly trends and sold all manner of goods in the churches. The believers were all spiritually parched and famished and lacked the provision of the water of life. Faced with the desolation in the church, I thought, it is imperative for me to find a church that has the work of the Holy Spirit, so that I won’t be eliminated by the Lord like the foolish virgins.

Later, Brother Chen sent me a passage of word: “God will accomplish this fact: He will make all people throughout the universe come before Him, and worship the God on earth, and His work in other places will cease, and people will be forced to seek the true way. It will be like Joseph: Everyone came to him for food, and bowed down to him, for he had things to eat. In order to avoid famine people will be forced to seek the true way. The entire religious community is suffering severe famine, and only the God of today is the wellspring of living water, possessed of the ever-flowing wellspring provided for the enjoyment of man, and people will come and depend on Him” (“The Millennial Kingdom Has Arrived”).

Brother Chen then fellowshiped, “In fact, the desolation in the religious world today contains God’s intentions within. Through this, God is forcing those who believe in God with true hearts and who love the truth to leave the religion and search for the footprints of God’s work. The Lord Jesus once prophesied: ‘I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. However, when He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth: for He shall not speak of Himself; but whatever He shall hear, that shall He speak: and He will show you things to come’ (John 16:12–13). And it says in Revelation 3:13: ‘He that has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’ From these prophecies, we can see that the Lord will return in the last days to express the truth and perform His work to save people. Only by focusing on hearing God’s voice will we be able to welcome the Lord’s return. Sister, let me tell you some good news. The Lord Jesus has actually returned as the incarnate Almighty God. He has expressed millions of words that can have man purified and saved and is performing the work of judgment and purification. The judgment work of Almighty God in the last days just fulfills the prophecy in the Bible: ‘He that rejects Me, and receives not My words, has one that judges him: the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day’ (John 12:48). All who hear God’s voice and then accept and obey God’s judgment work in the last days are the wise virgins who are raptured up before God’s throne to attend the wedding feast of the Lamb, and they are able to enjoy the provision of the water of life that flows from the throne and restore their original faith and love. Those who refuse to accept the work of Almighty God, however, are people who fail to keep up with God’s footsteps, and they shall be eliminated and cannot obtain the work of the Holy Spirit.”

After listening to Brother Chen’s fellowship, I suddenly realized: Over these years, the church has been desolate and we have been spiritually parched and famished—it turns out God’s will is for us to seek the true way so that we won’t die of spiritual thirst and hunger in the wilderness where there is no provision of the living water. I truly gained a lot from today’s meeting, through which my longstanding confusion had finally been resolved. I had never expected that I would hear the news of the Lord’s return when the church was at its most desolate. Crying tears of joy, I thought I should hurry to seek and investigate Almighty God’s work of the last days. However, I still didn’t understand the difference between the last days’ work of Almighty God and the work of the Lord Jesus. But as I had something else to do, I arranged a time for our next gathering with the brothers and then got offline.

Several days later, I got online for the gathering with the brothers. In response to my question raised at our last meeting, Brother Chen read a passage of Almighty God’s words for me, “When Jesus came into the world of man, He brought the Age of Grace and ended the Age of Law. During the last days, God once more became flesh, and when He became flesh this time, He ended the Age of Grace and brought the Age of Kingdom. All those who accept the second incarnation of God will be led into the Age of Kingdom, and be able to personally accept the guidance of God. Though Jesus did much work among man, He only completed the redemption of all mankind and became man’s sin offering, and did not rid man of all his corrupt disposition. Fully saving man from the influence of Satan not only required Jesus to take on the sins of man as the sin offering, but also required God to do greater work to completely rid man of his disposition, which has been corrupted by Satan. And so, after man was forgiven his sins, God has returned to flesh to lead man into the new age, and begun the work of chastisement and judgment, and this work has brought man into a higher realm. All those who submit under His dominion shall enjoy higher truth and receive greater blessings. They shall truly live in the light, and shall gain the truth, the way, and the life.”

Brother Chen then fellowshiped, “From God’s words, we can see that in the Age of Grace, the Lord Jesus came in the flesh to carry out a stage of work of redemption, providing man with the way of repentance and teaching them to be tolerant and patient, to love their enemies, and to forgive others seventy times seven times and so on. He was also crucified as a sin offering for us mankind, thus redeeming us from sin so that we would no longer be condemned by the law for committing sins. As long as we obeyed the Lord’s teachings, prayed and called on His name, confessed and repented our sins to Him, we would receive His salvation and be absolved of our sins. But what is undeniable is that our sinful natures are still deeply rooted within us that we are always committing sins and resisting God in spite of ourselves, living a painful life of sinning in the day and confessing at night. So people like us are not qualified to enter God’s kingdom, for the Lord Jesus once said, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, Whoever commits sin is the servant of sin. And the servant stays not in the house for ever: but the son stays ever’ (John 8:34–35). Therefore, in the last days, God has incarnated once again to perform a stage of work of judgment beginning with the house of God on the foundation of the Lord Jesus’ work to thoroughly purify and save mankind. Almighty God has imparted to us all the truths that we need to be cleansed, saved and perfected, using His words to judge and expose our sinful natures, such as arrogance and self-importance, crookedness and deceit, selfishness and despicableness, and at the same time showing us the path to cast off our corruption and gain purification. Through experiencing God’s judgment and chastisement, we can gradually gain an understanding of our own satanic nature as well as a knowledge of God’s righteous disposition, develop a heart of reverence for God, becoming willing to forsake the flesh and put God’s words into practice. As a result, our corrupt dispositions will change to varying degrees and our lives will continuously make progress. From this we can understand that the redemptive work of the Lord Jesus was to absolve our sins while the judgment work of Almighty God in the last days is to eliminate our sins. If we only accept the Lord Jesus’ work of redemption but don’t accept the utterances of the returned Lord or go through the judgment work of God in the last days, then the sinful nature within us will never be cleansed and we can never obtain salvation and enter into the kingdom of heaven.”

Thanks be to God! My heart was suddenly brightened. It turned out that the Lord Jesus did the work of redemption, which was to absolve our sins, and that the incarnate Almighty God has expressed the truth to do the work of judging and purifying man, which is to cleanse and change us humans who are corrupted by Satan. I was so fortunate to be able to accept the judgment work of the returned Lord and have the opportunity to gain purification.

Later, I came across these words of God, “For there is a time when My glory leaves Canaan, and there is also a time when My glory leaves the chosen. Furthermore, there is a time when My glory leaves the whole earth, causing it to grow dim and plunging it into darkness. Even the land of Canaan shall not see the sunlight; all men will lose their faith, but none can bear to leave the fragrance of the land of Canaan. Only when I pass into the new heaven and earth do I take the other part of My glory and reveal it first in the land of Canaan, causing a glimmer of light to shine forth in the whole earth, sunk in the pitchy darkness of night, to allow the whole earth to come to the light. Let men all over the earth come to draw strength from the power of the light, allowing My glory to increase and appear anew to every nation. Let all humanity realize that I have long ago come to the human world and long ago brought My glory from Israel to the East; for My glory shines from the East, where it was brought over from the Age of Grace to this day. But it was from Israel that I departed and from there that I arrived in the East. Only when the light of the East gradually turns white will the darkness across the earth begin to turn to light, and only then will man discover that I have long ago gone from Israel and am rising anew in the East. Having once descended into Israel and later departed from it, I cannot again be born into Israel, because My work leads all of the universe and, what is more, the lightning flashes straight from East to West. For this reason I have descended in the East and brought Canaan to the people of the East. I wish to bring people from all over the earth to the land of Canaan, and so I continue to issue forth utterances in the land of Canaan to control the entire universe. At this time, there is no light in all the earth apart from Canaan, and all men are imperiled by hunger and cold.” After reading God’s words, I was deeply stirred: All these years, I’ve always felt like I was wandering in the wilderness, trying to find a church that has the work of the Holy Spirit. But every time I went to a church in hope, I would always leave in disappointment. These years, all the denominations have become desolate and only The Church of Almighty God is thriving rapidly. Their movies, videos and other works are constantly being released online, and more and more people are turning back to Almighty God—this is indeed the fruit obtained by the work of the Holy Spirit. Today, God has departed with His glory from the churches of the Age of Grace and has carried out a new work. Almighty God’s kingdom gospel in the last days has spread rapidly from east to west, which is really as the lightning flashes from the East to the West. God’s words possess authority and power, bringing us the work of the new age like a flash of light illuminating the dark sky. Now the work of the Holy Spirit has shifted, so I should immediately keep pace with it and accept the personal watering and shepherding of Christ in the last days.

In the following months, I hungrily devoured the words of Almighty God and watched the movies, sketches, music videos, and all kinds of articles about the testimonies of returning to God, which greatly edified me. Not only that, but Almighty God’s words have opened up all the mysteries in the Scriptures I didn’t understand before. I therefore became completely certain that Almighty God is the returned Lord Jesus.

God’s words say, “The love of God extends forth like the water of a spring, and is given to you, and to me, and to him, and to all those who truly seek the truth and await the appearance of God.” Now I feel enriched every day and have enjoyed being provided with the water of living life that flows from the throne. My spirit is greatly satisfied and I no longer have to search bitterly everywhere. In order to repay God’s love, I am now spreading the gospel with the brothers and sisters, trying our best to lead all of those who thirst for God’s appearance and work before His throne. Thanks be to God!

[castlehead]

Intermediately, the great grand thing  Spoke in and out of hearing, sometimes with                                   Barely a voice to rest on, if that       Bright commodity upstairs had anything to say       About it, but then the work —Delivered the right themes at the right times: and then, All that simple dust ploughing our vision so long, when in our way                   We accuse the blur rather than look at it like a uh     Lost dog, or than find it a path-always to Clarity, clout, the work, that is, made there—right there—in the crease of an eye A great grand thing         of a work:                    It was the result of banging the symptoms Dry I suppose, till my throat ran out of moisture To sing with, having dealt with symptoms long enough, Wanting cores: this magical thinking came with it The familiar frustration with anything too                       Much of a lie to take seriously anymore, or anything Based in lies, lies on thoughts of a thoughtless Public, so I thought, at least as to the livelihood of its artists, that is,; Pah!    When really the reign of The Public,    if a reign, must Be doing something widespread right! OR   Heck, nobody might’ve found out abt it yet, How wrong it is: society to this day is Just as unalterably plural, more so, even,                       Than it was, and remaineth just as Strong: it makes me think that, well, huh, this moment today: I am a part of that:

Of ashy morning skies lit by noon,             By fanatical jaws of light themselves

More Phoebus than Phoebus, at least, By Stevens’s hijacked terms: I think it’s the name

Of a sun-goddess or something. I am apart from My own parochial—or quaint maybe

Is the better word—schemes, not needing me

To bloom electric spires in formidable concerns About the state of poetry in order to be myself, that is

If family knew, would you [I] lose that name; Would the foils snigger at your befallen Ill, claim ALWAYS RIGHT ABOUT

IT? Twist me then if they do, twist Me in that way of the whirling

Buddhists [Dervishes] or something, on The short gradation outside, there

An illustrious haunted mansion, there, of some Reference: to be explained later, partly;

Seen only once, in the eyes of a pigeon That yu see, there, outside the window Of yr [my] decrepit sanctuary . . . . .

A flower grew in lungs that is bouquet By now. Almost went sere and riven by The stark yet careful doubt some shade / Of                      Freedom greeted it with, ill-fated: it welcomed It pursue freedom to the end of uncertainty,   But this was driven by my own promise               And my responsibility therein got us nowhere. First Of all, it couldn’t be a challenge like it was, which Would imply the possibility of the winner having Something to brag about, a superficial upside if any. The Entrance into                    This orbit, hidden somewheres in the aging crabgrass of failure Is best revealed to a sceptic like me, I’m ready, I thought, bragging: But like my prior corpses I’d left to mulch, I was Burnt to death, dry throat made driest at the root, thirsting for The other better-quenching bc—so elusive—root of my problems:                       I was evil if I did not win the war; I’d be a martyr if I did. What a choice! Well: the calyx shattering and the waxing stem      Hath blended in my lungs both love and hate For this stately shadowy figure I weave that is myself.               And now has bloomed to things of magnificent smoke Overcoming the weakness of that starting sarcoid Rose; and I spoke a jungle through the drowning rain of it. And sorrow poured in drops of shattered leaves, And in my fist were incubated pearl, which As seed was not mine to give but mine to take: Some sphere of spectral emptiness, like smoke,                   It became,—the figure; to warm within a heart Like mine that everlasting sight of idiom, inspiring as     It fell thru love and hate and even flesh,                    Really, landing on that precious emptiness Like a stuntman leaping to find his pillow. Wakened I though in remorse, to an apologetic bower:     It turned out I was not The Chosen One:             My comforting patterns, shades of things, here in my head, instead, Were thrown back at me, and I entrusted strictly to mycellf, to feed No others dead w/ my pittance of alimony, only I to kill Myself with overkill, this time,             Tho, I thought my muse not poisonous but alive                         Once more, more than ever, and I trusted this hunch: That anyone’s muse is forever of a manic phoenix-eternity, tho Considering proof of this, merely what             I hath sampled some of briefer craft than this: I am hearing searing laughter from Crane’s Broken Tower now Where levels to the top are mere dusky climes for the end of logic     Everybody knows, my vision of my fate                         To foggy up and stew aloft debris around: I was anyway to drill My foggy mind to dimness despite all the warnings, weaker, weaker seeing any Aim for it at all that meant enough for what I had withstood When standing dying in a solitary wood                          Like some obstinate pillar of some house, laden    With vine. I made the aforementioned pearl Be what broke, so freed myself from blame, not to avoid disrepute but                          So I could free the dirty flowers too, In my lungs, wanting voice for me for So long, and who venerated me—          Like as if they were the children of my pulse of Vividness— My entire culminating imagery I play at paste to make—the one thing this all Means—so I cld free them from the furtherance                        That yet sadly gave them life, I know not how: a choking grip           By the burly, hairy hands of that arrogant demiurge in me, the one That haunts the viney manse with his smokey palings                            That I saw once in the pigeon’s eye; thereupon bursting With unhealable tremor / A worldwide armistice could not provide With peace. So leave me to my solitary lease, With my fracturing of pearl and idiom / And blend again What cannot be controlled, o shadow-figure of my Dreams, or of something else I do not want to know.             It is as if the sun had got too bold To with its burning laugh not sere all the cowards!— As swinging go the falling bells I know                        Not where. so whether this, imagination’s       Curl, or swerve, or wave, could shove me sideways from the better Word I’d use if I’d had room, I take the thing that comes, as carnival;              I take the hitching strands to my whatever. A girl is In each refractory parting of each pome, almost like that infinity I saw.      When by that black hole I—       smoldered in my cheap oneness, while The infinite sat there mute, unchanged. And my lungs hath stirred   A partial requiem for that hurt in place of having nothing, Though that loss partake of soul, despite,—consumes / What’s horrible to           Head, and makes it horribler; yet which insistently tells me of                                        Some mournful finery: as would                  At first, maybe bleaken my candor, with my trite reactions To the imagistic foliage; or come across as ‘soul-baring’— Too emotionally populous to get it straight— Rather than bleed pollinating thoughts immediately For glinting miles, for flowers, unfolding flowers,                            The genus nameless, and that yet I see ahead, for          In reality, an evolving subject, and Imbued in all, however most don’t notice it at all. Anyway                             To call the rain in showers some drained corpse, To give up & pile the soul on ruddy hills of rudiment, a dull Betrayal of the abstract dream, using those sacred tools th. while —Of a personal inwardness, run by the impetus Of possibility, to one day harness guts and mind a single steed;                    All of this to me appears to rhyme With madness. Shall I say it is a shape, this noble with ignoble?          Shall I recourse to nudge on my knee                   Of flowery rhetoric against yours, like a jerk?           It is more than flowery rhetoric. No. To whisper bangs of sunlight on the pearl again, takes bravery;                     That is, despite assumptions it no longer Is, I know, it hasn’t yet drained all the fuel from Her, misbegotten, mixed, expressionistic metaphor, the damned clever girl,              And which in craving for a soul of flowers forms a soul; Does this detesteth not a thing? And petals, leaves, Falling, are they king? I find more in the verbs my doing              Does, than on the page: an act to harp Away somewhere, you kno, into the buzz Afflicted ears despair to feel and hear, I guess, I guess. These girls, each of them crumble, and beauty the veneer                      For havoc. And I have no choice To see but what I see and when I do, In spite of darkness cold that silence Calls to you: a smallness in the violence                      Of each retracted word in mundane conversation; Or each morose conniption in the heart an explanation Must entail, so one’s neighbor might See their situation valid: for I define myself                     With breath and breath and beat and Beat of brain, will hoard all, for am sensitive to All, I value all though; including sublimest terror, Will stand them on my shelf like books. The terror doesn’t Bond a minstrel, troubadour ARNAUT at least came close; Nor any songster huffing on about himself and nothing else. But she                      Who speaks to sing her chances by the floe Where Orpheus responded to the wind, And hears some most unpeptic echo there, risks upon Herself the assuming of a dissipated character, wearing-down her days alone, While the rest go to their doom, thinking they are right.                     That tired nature speaks in raspiness. I would endure the dullest fellow’s bliss To spawn my own, for it would be the same. An animatic masque Is all in the World who praise doing a task            For the sake of peace, for that it not haunt them any longer,                               A mansion in the woods.                 Their daemon is not: but is stuff made up Of ghosts that dog a thought, without knowing what it is,    Themselves not there; they are ghosts. And step by step, These theorizers corrupt slowly and neatly          Their emanating voice until it is shrill whisper,                            Which after all wld come to any who rely On meekness to get by, as if contentiousness Were too much a risk: like, about anything: but it is                    A serious / Pleasure, something            Maybe, touched and felt certain: rarely does that bless us: So then to be not, most of all, uh, not Resigned withal the creaks of footsteps, or standard leaks Thru standard floors, is most important thing. They all of them, I too- -Make a ‘bash’ of the solitude I love alone for none.                   Except in the former’s case is bashed its helpfulness; The latter, a bash, a party in my skull, my truest friends, ideas I have invited. They go away, the others than oneself, I mean to say, not like oneself:           They go to find where people haven’t yet gone, with a— Distaste for the supreme fictions they find resultantly, When really there is nothing other that poetry Can meet so head-on as illusion. It is considerably seen         In figuration, and mocks the human tongue Like it were doggerel, inviting but more limits to the truth,— With this futile other-vision of systemic truth, as makes parade                    Of what is no garbage certainly in its puerile    Purity, I mean, there is, as ther is in      Any language as might try to get beyond itself,—o stiff sophomore,           You, as others, and as I do, tho it’s worse for me, Since I don’t know it, think I am ‘above’ it ‘at this point’—turn and turn      In bed, thinking about what’s in yr head, when it doesn’t, nevr will, exist,—

When these findings in the garbage are no garbage, mostly, but where hides The revelatory Entrance To The World, or some other thing unfathomed. But’s thorough as a view through clean windows seen. Recalleth yr weathered                              Dreams to paradigm And moment, and the still image you get breaks sheds   Of different happenstance and cruel device From the actual thing you’re giving an account of. / When burrowing                        Into the head to find the waiting Mushrooms there, stuffed beneath the dirt—that is— Before they’re found by pigs of someone                        Else who might sniff out yr Myopic Self               And know where not to look—you can easily get sniffed-out By the pigs, (since all people are themselves a good idea) then- -Clamped-down on by their teeth, then tossed behind their shouldrs     At their faceless master holding a sack—you with the rest of their findings,           If you give up, / A pretty shitty experience, besides relief                            I guess, somewhere in yr heart, in finding out where you are, Since nobody who pursues a thing, anything, can know that,     Where they are, it’s chase or else quit  The chase, rub your eyes and realize your color-consuming geography              Like a realist painter, but of yr own pastels of experience; No longer be a space cadet, but be without the once-widespread you had. Tho if you don’t like that reality but go for it                    Anyway, then turn back, if even for one moment, you Will suffer the gaze for just that one moment of the clarity,                              Ere the complete destruction                Of all the deliciously unrequitable higher purpose            In you you had. Then you should probly just work for The Post Office. This packet of information, let it be forgotten.      Left to blight…                        In shiversome implicative doubt-paths. This is my sternly-worded war with Voice: I can hear its vocal cannon-fire Struggle to usurp whatever hocks out the quaked shallow hollow of my throat       And a crippling volley of gunfire somewhere piercing me In the exact place where peace is most necessary.            Elsewhere I am violent in the realms of quell of soul,       Struggling to fight life itself to life. And for peace, they are, though, two diff. things; are           Somewhere picked in froggy-smelling      Legions of bombast and bad attitude. One can Whiff the stink of existential pang and long-parched effort, But done up to be a song, it still succeeds And honors—godly paradoxi; I pull the meaning up By straps of liquified boots by the gnash of crud And sharp shale-particle.    Maybe that’s the smell.         My thought-factory     Raises its ranks up the totem / Of production, meets my salutary                  Pride of finally doing this for me at the top, Like it usually does: I think this is a pome: But it is not final, as no pome shld be. I guess it is A seizing up despite nought there to      Seize, despite that my muscles are soup: the act a making of the thing, Divided by art, equals opus, a ripe conclusion staved           Off so long: a relatively swell                               Commitment to the job of making and                     A hurtle towards the carrion and guile, A victor running rampant  on the buzz of his own smile. This is— Evaded wisdom, now, for the sake Of running after something, ha, ha. Now to bother sorrow,              Again, to make my comfy stead, as usual: there’s ended                            Days, sure: I quite before my mind begin,       A lot. Yet I force no falter, merely fail, Tho exert. Elsewhere were made a few thoughtful stains Like this one, trying to unify. That now                    Relic, flew alone once, before                          A state of eyes no glare could rob a layer From knew what familiar objects liked to be to me, and sniffed me out.        Damn pigs. Damn pigeons! This fear like darting from the light Is a concealing of my practices, fearfully shy for them, for what they were                 To me was too embarrassingly close to my heart         As my very guts of trial, of joy, and —Of experience. Yet if at my own behest I might Make less tearful miles of lines           Each year, I might ask the other in me Why she wants no poetry any longer: you know, poetry about Th causes made to shed themselves spontaneously, Once pointed out on a map: would that be deceptive: A focus but of the original expression I had                     On what is far away from it, and that into still more dissimilar                                     Parts but so far away as even to come back     To what I had meant to start with simply by going Around the back of my head, like a Christopher                                     Colombus of the psyche, except I don’t destroy civilizations of people: wow, That comparison really gets me between with— Myriad confusions: foolproof,   Each one is a name for the one contained within, so                          The Christopher Columbus metaphor might      As well equally mean twelve diff. other things. Could I suffer the claims of others That I was meaningless? But all I think of is                         A nakedness of elsewhere. No mind            Could stitch that together stiff. And do I want to be stiff? In that case. Well. It is all more nebulous than one possibility. That I know. Made of self-scorn                  And acuteness   Of the mask, tht possibility could wire blackly                 Over a cynicism well as much a poison To the secret-snatchers who thought they Got it: oh, those foolish others: news for you, I knew not what I         Saw either, yet took the rest                                As what I did, but plainly, as an object,           Any, dissolved it all in rightful substances                   As anxious as the tears blurred once the sight.                                      O what by salty   Stain upon one fraction of the book           My eyes made many, took a few revelations Within their tombs, hied from my glare forever. Mere chaos, maybe; to                             Become a unity                    The message, old and dire,                                           Curbed too much . . . .