#another is that one verse that goes “come to me all ye who are weary and burdened. i will give you rest”

[wolfythewitch]

Do you have a favorite Bible verse? Might sound weird but I have a few to remind myself that the Bible isn't all verses that can be twisted to excuse bigotry (like James 3:13 is a good one)

I have called you by your name, you are mine.

[allthingsmustfall]

For @rockscanfly ‘s prompt of “charles gets to watch arthur do embarrassing shit all the time. whats one time that arthur saw charles do something embarrassing?” which ate my brain and made me cackle incoherently to myself.

This is the ‘like thieves in the night’ verse, after they get to Serendipity and before John’s in the know:

Arthur’s been loitering near the stables, avoiding Hosea’s endless dickering to make nice with some a new foal and its weary momma, so it’s only seeing Charles’ back go rigid that makes him glance up.

It’s a bright spring morning, just barely out of the grip of winter, and they’d ridden down to the Smit’s ranch to pick up a few head of cattle for the farm, something that Arthur figures should’ve taken ten minutes, but with Hosea there’s always twenty minutes of small talk and an hour of haggling over prices, so he’d settled in for the long haul while Charles inspected the herd.

Arthur leans out of the barn to get a better look at Charles, who’d been leaning against the fence, smiling vaguely as he looked out over the rolling hills. He’s not doing that now - his hackles are up and he jumps back from the fence like he’s touched a live wire, furtively casting around like he’s looking for cover in a firefight.

Doesn’t seem to Arthur that anything’s changed, really, Hosea’s still up on the porch with the owner, and it seems his eldest daughter has stepped out to join them. She’s a nice enough girl, just turned twenty with no ring on her finger, and she’s plush and soft in the way Mary was, like she’d break should Arthur so much as look at her wrong. Matilda, Arthur remembers suddenly, her name’s Matilda.

Glancing back to Charles, he finds the man has jumped the fence, making for the side door of the stable, creeping along like he’s hunting game.

“Charles!” Matilda calls from the porch, her voice bubbling with the kind of excitement that only comes with youth. She dashes down the steps, her skirts in hand. “Daddy didn’t mention you’d be coming down too!”

From where he’s leaning, Arthur can see Charles’ face through the side window as he’s caught, and his eyes go rabbit-wide, and he mutters a curse that Arthur has only ever heard him use when he’s talking about the Army or Dutch.

“Heey there, Matilda,” he says, voice strained as he turns on his heel, still backing away slowly.

Matilda is fussing with her hair, straightening her dress as she comes up on the fence. “I told you,” she teases, “My friends call me Maddie.”

Charles makes a strained noise and backs into one of the struts holding up the stable’s overhang. “I - yes. Sorry, Maddie. I was just - just going to take a closer look at the herd -”

“You know,” Matilda says, like she’s being subtle or shy, “I never did get a chance to thank you proper for seeing me home after Glenda threw a shoe.”

Charles throws up his hands, “No need for thanking,” he says quickly. “Just - being neighborly.”

“Lending me your coat,” Matilda goes on, oblivious, “Letting me squeeze up behind you on the saddle - “

Purposefully, Arthur bites down on his knuckles to stifle a laugh .Somehow, Charles has neglected to relate this particular little story of neighborly good-deeding. Funny, that.

“I just - the weather was real bad,” Charles says, still backing away. Arthur has seen him less wary around rattlers. “Just - best for all that you got home safe -”

“It was just so - heroic,” she says, wistfully. “Daddy says you’re an American? You used to be a cowboy out on the frontier?”

“Oh no I - I just - I - just ranching, mostly,” Charles lies, because if the girl wants heroic stories, then Arthur’s got a few dozen to fill her head up with. “Nothing interesting -”

Matilda sighs gustilly, fanning her chest as she positions herself in a way she must think looks enticing, but mostly seems uncomfortable. “It sounds so romantic.”

“It’s not,” Charles says, almost plaintively. “It’s really -”

“Oh no,” she says, purposefully letting an old handkerchief flutter into the muddy paddock. “I dropped my handkerchief.” She leans over the fence, making as if to grab it, but even from this angle Arthur can tell she’s just shoving her breasts together as she leans over, deepening her cleavage with a lot of creative positioning and hope. “Would you be a dear and grab that for me?”

Charles stills, looking from the girl to the pile of manure it’s landed in and says, deliberately, “I’d just as soon leave it, miss, I think it’s ruined.”

Arthur just about has to shove his fist into his mouth to silent a peel of laughter at that, almost doubling over.

The girl pouts, but goes on unperturbed. “You know, I’m a really good baker,” she says hopefully, perking up. “I’d love to come by Serendipity sometime, just to show my appreciation. Momma says no one makes pie like me, you know. Would you like a slice of my pie, Charles?”

Charles just about yelps, probably because he backed his way onto a loose, rusty nail in the side of the barn, cowering back like he’s never done for lawmen or O’Driscolls or the god damn US Army, but it’s just as well, because that sends Arthur to the ground, wracked with silent laughter, and the shout covers the noise of him sinking to the ground.

“I don’t - like pie,” Charles says shortly, which as far as metaphors goes, ain’t even a little bit wrong. “I. My. I been stepping out with Tilly Jackson for a long while now, and she makes, uh, some real nice biscuits, though -”

“You mentioned her,” Matilda says, her voice going a bit suspicious. “I saw her ‘round the market last weekend and she seems real surprised you told me about the two of you -”

I bet she was, Arthur thinks hysterically, another peel of laughter trying to claw its way out of his throat.

“Oh no,” Charles whispers to himself, quietly. Arthur claws his way back to his feet just to see how wide his eyes have gotten, and he’s not disappointed. There’s small rodents living out in the desert with less fear of hawks than Charles has for Matilda Smit in this moment.

“-and she told me you two called things quits? She said you’re a real gentleman but you broke her heart.”

“Did she,” Charles says darkly, in a tone of voice that promised later retribution.

“I think any woman would be lucky to have you, Charles Smith,” she says, earnest and sweet, blinking big brown eyes at him like a fawn in spring.

“That’s - uh, that’s real kind, but really, it was Miss Tilly who broke, uh, my heart,” he says quickly, “I’m just. A broken man about it.”

Tactical mistake, Arthur thinks. In his misspent youth, Arthur has used that line to the exact opposite effect that Charles is hoping for.

On cue, Matilda makes an anguished noise. “Oh you poor thing,” she says, hitching her skirts up to climb over the fence. “Oh, women can be so, so cruel, you deserve yourself a good wife, and lots of babies running around -”

“No, no, no, miss, please!” Charles says, pure panic in his voice, “You’ll muddy your skirts. You just. Stay over there.”

“You’re such an gentleman,” she says, almost as if it pains her, but she at least stops trying to go over the fence. “I was thinking, maybe you’d like to come around some evening,” she says, and her voice goes sly for a moment, “You know, my daddy is driving the herd down to Montreal the end of the month -”

If he was a good man, Arthur would stop this, but thank god he’s a bastard because the anguished noise that Charles makes at that invitation is one that will bring Arthur joy for years and years to come.

“I wouldn’t want to - to presume, Miss Smit -”

“Maddie!” the girl says sharply.

“Maddie! I wouldn’t - I wouldn’t want to bring you any trouble-”

“I like a bit of trouble-”

“And I just - the farm needs me -”

“You’re so responsible -”

“And I, I, uh, uh -”

“No need to get flustered, Charles,” the girl says, all sweet and understanding, “We both want the same thing-”

“Arthur!” Hosea calls jovially, striding into the barn and drawing up short when he finds Arthur doubled over, barely holding back tears of laughter. “What on earth are you-?”

“...Arthur?” Charles growls from the other side of the wall, suddenly glaring in through the window at the pair of them. “You been there the -”

“Mister Matthews,” Matilda says, sounding put out and sour, “Charles and I were just - “

“I’m real sorry, Miss Smit,” Charles says quickly, “We best be on our way. Gotta drive the cattle home -”

“Think Hosea and I could manage it the two of us,” Arthur says helpfully, palming away tears. “If you wanted to -”

“No!” Charles says, then more calmly, “No, no, I think it’s best we all three of us go, just to be sure. Sides,” he says, glaring at Arthur, “We got things to discuss when we make it home.”

Arthur flashes him a sharp, innocent smile, shrugging. “Don’t wanna get in the way of young lo-”

“I’ll go see to the horses,” Charles snaps, heaving himself over the fence and stalking away to where they’d reined up the horses, but not so fast that Matilda doesn’t have the opportunity to lean over, whisper too loudly, “End of the month!”

“What on earth was that about?” Hosea asks, frowning faintly after him.

“Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll tell you the whole thing,” Arthur says, laughing despite himself. Charles was gonna skin him alive, but there wasn’t a force on earth that could stop him telling everyone back home.

~A few hours later~

Lenny is laughing so hard he can’t breathe, doubled over on the ground, looking near to passing out, and Sean and Karen ain’t much better off, both leaning against each other to stay upright.

“I think it’s entirely fair I said what I said,” Tilly says, unrepentant. “What on earth were you thinking? You know I’m thinking about letting Beau Montreau step out with me, and he’s skittish as a cat -”

“I’m just telling her I’m an invert,” Charles says wearily, headown on the table and, taking pity on him, Arthur quietly refills his glass. “It was a nice life here, but it’s time we moved on.”

“And break her heart?” Lenny manages, weeping with laughter. “You scoundrel.”

“Now I ain’t a jealous man,” Arthur says, enjoying this far, far too much, “But if you’re leaving me for her, best you just come out with it, do it quick like setting a bone.” Arthur makes a show of marshalling himself. “Do it now, quick, while I’m ready.”

Charles’ lashes out, but Arthur ducks the smack deftly, catching his hand and pressing a kiss to his unresisting knuckles, only dropping it when the door creaks open behind them. John struts in looking pleased with himself, fresh back from town with the groceries. “Ya’ll will never guess what I heard down in town - seems Charles’s finally got himself a woman - hey, hey! What’s so goddamned funny!”

[vivisextion]

I first saw Slipknot at age 14.

No one knows how I managed it. I'm not sure I even remember. These days, you have to be 16 or 18 to get into Standing areas. I do know I had to buy tickets on the phone, back in the old days (2005, that is). A singular ticket, too - none of my friends, not even the classmate who had gone with me to see Linkin Park the year before, was that into Slipknot.

But I HAD to see them. This was the Subliminal Verses tour cycle, and Vol. 3 was my first and favourite Slipknot album, even to this day. It's the reliable old warm blanket for my soul whenever I need it. It's on right now, as I write this.

My memory isn't that good, but luckily I unearthed a livejournal (livejournal!) diary entry about the event I made the next day.

August 16, 2005. I went right after school. I went to a very conservative Anglican secondary school, too. I tried not to get caught in the bathroom, as I coloured my nails black with permanent marker (I know, don't laugh) and changed into my standard metalhead baby outfit - Slipknot band shirt, black cargo shorts, and my pride and joy: steel-toe boots I somehow managed to cajole my parents into letting me own.

I caught the bus to the open-air war memorial park where the gig was going to be. I got there at 4pm, 4 hours early. A couple other maggots were already hanging around. I found myself surrounded by tombstones, and I read them all. It was the middle of the Hungry Ghost Festival, too - a very fitting time for Slipknot to pay a visit to this godforsaken hellhole of a small town I lived in. (Especially given the paranormal circumstances surrounding the making of Vol. 3.)

While I wandered around the venue (no security or sound guys were around at all), I spotted two white vans pull up to the stage, in the middle of a clearing. It was them! I spotted Joey and missed him by a hair's breadth. I was quickly ushered behind the stone archway entrance by security then.

(Funnily enough, while walking around, I got mistaken for Joey more than once. I am the same height as him, had the same long black hair, same pale skin, and was wearing almost exactly what he had been. One person claimed from behind, I was a dead ringer, apart from when I turned around, and they realised I was Chinese.)

It was soundcheck time. A sound guy testing the mics would say random things, like "testing one two three two one.... fudge fudge, I like fudge...." The band even did Purity, so us earlybirds were given a rare treat, and we screamed along from the entrance, and drummed our fists on the sides of nearby porta-potties. I hope no one was in there at the time. Whenever we got a glance of any of them, we'd scream and cheer. Finally they left again, but were soon to return.

This was the first time I'd been a part of the metal community. I was barely allowed internet in those days. But here, random strangers were friendly, striking up conversations like they'd been friends for years. Two big guys, called Trevor and Ted, looked out for me the entire gig after, keeping other big dudes from crushing me too much (I'm 5'3, remember). Other people commented on me being so baby, because I was only 14, and said they would take care of me.

When we were finally let in, right after the usher cut the rope, I ran in, screamed "WOOOHOOO!" along with a few friends I'd made. I only briefly stopped to receive this RoadRunner Records compilation CD from a roadie, then resumed running like a madman screaming and dashing into the VIP cage.

I was right up against the barricade - the first time I would ever be at a gig. People from assorted magazines and press took photos of us, and I think I got my photo taken about 10 times at least.

(This is how I got in trouble with my parents the next day. My photo had ended up in a local paper - you can see examples of that here. They had no idea what I'd been to see the night before, and were horrified when they saw what Slipknot looked like.)

We saw Sid filming us from the stage with a camcorder and screamed at him. We saw Jim and screamed at him too, and he flashed the victory sign back at us. I remember Metallica playing at the time, another one of my favourite bands.

The concert was a brutal religious experience I will never forget. People with their arms outstretched, crying and screaming out loud, moving like the devil possessed them.

The new friends around me made sure I was alright after every song! There were huge guys fainting behind us who had to get carried out, but I endured, a tiny 14 year old child. We got a family speech as per tradition, of course. "Are you guys out there all looking out for each other? We're all one big family, and we gotta look out for each other." What Corey said held true - strangers hugged, shook hands, talked, and made friends. I was heartened by how close-knit the maggot community was. It really did feel like a family, and it's felt like that ever since.

Of course, I did my first Jump The Fuck Up. It is possibly the most euphoria I've ever experienced all at one go. (Later, in 2020, I was extremely disappointed that I didn't get to do it again in London.)

They did the death masks for Vermilion, and I remember Chris helping Sid fix his mask and shirt when they'd changed back. Sid hung out near Clown's drums for most of the time too, and hugged him from behind and just latched on at one point. It was pretty adorable.

Fun fact: The version of Eyeless you hear on the 9.0 Live album is from Singapore, as is Eeyore. There are very few photos and videos from the crowd of this gig, because in 2005, very few people had camera phones. The crowd at the Slipknot gig in 2020 was a sea of arms with phones, filming the gig rather than experiencing it. Yes, I'm going to be that cranky old geezer who complains about the good old days.

Joey as usual, was fucking amazing and never failed. However, due to the fact that I was right up front, only his tiny head was visible behind his vast drum set, I couldn't see him the entire gig.

Amazingly, the government told Slipknot they were not allowed to do obscene gestures, curse, vomit (possibly due to the decomposing crow pre-show ritual), simulate humping on objects, throw faeces, or jump off stage (looking at you, Sid). I don't think our totalitarian government knew who they were dealing with, because watch what happens next.

Near the end of the gig, Corey tells the crowd “your government has given us a laundry list of things we aren’t allowed to do, your government has told us we are not allowed to swear”. Crowd goes “BOOOOOOOOO” and Corey goes “BUT WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK!!” And they launch into Surfacing, the last song. Everyone riots. Best night of my life.

You can find the setlist from that gig here. It had everything I wanted and more.

This story later got immortalised when Kerrang asked maggots for gig stories, for an article which came out in 2020. I had forgotten entirely, until people began messaging me to tell me, and one friend sent me a scan of it!

On the way out, I managed to get a shirt. I remember calling my best friend at the time, and got everyone at the merch booth to go "IF YOU'RE 555 THEN I'M 666" for her. This shirt has since been lost to the landfill, because my Christian mother took it upon herself to dispose of it the first opportunity she got. Needless to say, our relationship is not very good.

After that, I even managed to get that Roadrunner compilation album they were giving out signed. The band was staying at the Carlton. Unfortunately, Joey wasn't there, neither was Clown, and Mick was swarmed by guitar nerds so, 6/9 it is. It is a great regret of mine that I'll never have anything signed by him, nor will I ever get to see him perform ever again.

The next day, I went to school, my head swimming. Yes, I went to see Slipknot ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. I was a giant bruise, from my ribs and my chest, to my hips and knees, from being slammed into the barricade like a screen door in a hurricane. Most of all, my sore, headbanged-out neck could barely hold my head up. Classmates thought I had been in a fight. I was torn between battle-scarred exhaustion and hyperactive ranting about the most amazing gig of my short life (it still is, to this day). When teachers spoke to me, I wanted to reply, "Fuck trigonometry! I've just seen SLIPKNOT. Do you not understand that my world is different? Do you not understand that *I* am now different?"

My country was a small, conservative town that Slipknot had graced with their unholy presence. Corey Taylor once said that where he grew up in Iowa had a way of making a 16 year old boy feel like a 36 year old man (or something to that effect). I felt that in my weary bones as a teenager, being from a place just like that. Years later, Watain would run into worse trouble, and wouldn't even be allowed to perform. The Christian stranglehold is stronger than ever. It was a good thing that back then Slipknot had the element of surprise, striking serpent-fast and choking this society by the neck for a too-brief time, before they departed.

After that, my desire to play the drums only grew like a weed. Joey Jordison had, has, and will always inspire me as a drummer, and seeing the beast live (or what little I could spy behind the massive riser) had only spurred me on. I had always been a noisemaker, be it driving my parents mad with chopsticks on pots and pans, or driving my teachers mad with pencils on my desk. But of course, my parents wouldn't have any of it. I'd have to wait a good 14 more years before I'd be able to afford lessons and later, a kit of my own. Better late than never, right?

There will never be enough words to describe the impact Joey has had on my life. And it isn't just Slipknot, either. I could write another essay on his time with the Murderdolls and its influence on my own gender-non-conforming ways. Suffice to say, my wardrobe doesn't look too dissimilar to his during the early Dead in Hollywood days.

I told my boss I could not come into work today. I was grieving. I said that my music teacher died, as I didn't think she'd understand the magnitude of my loss. In a way, it's true. And I am not the only one Joey has nudged on the path to being a musician, that much is certain. To the rest of us, I wish strength and love for you in this difficult time. The best way to honour Joey, who truly loved music, both the creation and appreciation of it, is to pass that gift on. Teach it to someone. He is the reason I picked up the sticks in the first place, and one day, they'll be handed on, the heavy metal baton for the next generation.

And finally: remember that the ones we have lost are never truly gone.

Vinnie

P.S. See if you can spot me in the crowd photos in this post!

[star-consultant]

Bright are the stars

You need a Beatle song that perfectly encapsulates your sign? Of course you do. (Spotify playlist) 

Aries—“I Saw Her Standing There” 

One two three FOUR! An eager and intense song for an eager and intense sign. Aries falls hard and fast, with a tendency to rash vows that everyone doubts they mean—but Aries doesn’t doubt. Paul (who later styled himself as a "ram” at a key point in his creative development) makes good on the Cardinal Fire vibe with his exuberant vocals, and John of the Aries rising contributed the street-smart innuendo that utterly makes the song: And you know what I mean. Fittingly, this song kicked off the group’s first album, which itself has plenty of Aries “HELLO I AM HERE TO MAKE A MARK ON YOUR WORLD! (like me plz ok? this is my heart and i am Doing My Best??)” energy. 

Taurus—“All I’ve Got to Do"

A song that takes its sweet time but burrows deeper than the average ear-worm into your consciousness. It’s a patient song that is unassuming but knows exactly what the hell it’s doing. The intensity builds bit by bit, so that you’re unaware when the power of the bridge comes crashing down. Describes the Taurean romantic ideal: lazy, loyal, cozy, constant, tender, and ever-so-true. Also, “All I’ve Got to Do” is featured on the second album, With the Beatles, which has plenty of other Bullish touches, noticeable even with a casual glance at the tracklist: “Don’t Bother Me,” “Not a Second Time,” and “Money (That’s What I Want).” 

Gemini—“She Loves You”

Paul is a Gemini Sun, and throughout his catalogue it shows. But perhaps he never topped the Twinniness of this energetic, optimistic, breathless, gossipy classic. It was composed “eye-to-eye” with John, a truly dual-authored song, and one the rare Beatles numbers where the two lead vocalists double up on every single line, in true (Nerk) Twin fashion. Also the first but definitely not the last of their many “third-person narratives,” Paul’s novelistic instead of confessional slant being distinctly a Gemini thing. The speaker in this one couldn’t be more enthusiastic about this relationship if it were already repaired, and he couldn’t be more enthusiastic about it if it were his. Love is great! People reconciling is great! You should be glad, dumbass! But the real corker? What makes this so Gemini that it hurts? Yoko has confirmed that in the early 70s, during her separation with John, she actually had Paul play agony aunt. Then, during that meetup in L.A. where they were last photographed together, Paul urged John to “apologize to her” and get back together... which he did. That’s right. "She Loves You” is not merely a Gemini’s song: it’s a Gemini’s life. 

Cancer—“Octopus’s Garden”

Ringo the Crab’s musically-complex fantasy about an underwater sanctuary where children are “happy and safe,” he and his lover can be together, and there’s “no one there to tell us what to do.” George (a triple Water sign himself, probably not-so-incidentally) always insisted that his best mate’s song Had Depths, and he himself supplied a lot of them: check out his lead guitar lines. They function as emotional counterpoint. When Ringo’s vocal line is especially wistful, the guitar is bright; when Ringo ends on a confident note, the guitar is quirky, ironic, even stiff-upper-lip pessimistic. Result: a shifting kaleidoscope of FEELS. The Moon approves. 

Leo—“Good Day Sunshine” 

Paul perfectly expresses his own Leo moon with a sublime, vibrant ode to laughter, love, and pride on a cloudless summer day. The bit in the lyrics about she knows she’s looking fine and I’m so proud to know that she is mine? That’s not marring the high tone of the song: that is part of the tone. Hear us roar! And by “roar” I mean "laugh and canoodle, coz Leo is about living the good life, bitches.” 

Virgo—“Please Please Me” 

What’s fair is forkin’ fair, mate! A exemplary blend of Virgo’s Mutable passive-aggressive sensitivity with its Elemental directness... half-critical, half-begging... plus the very sign-typical humblebragging. About their sexual prowess. Damn, Virgo. People forget how Earthy you really are sometimes. But here we are. In very Virgo fashion, instead of ditching the girl he’s decided to harangue her. On a more meta note, the Beatles were still studio virgins when they first began crafting this song, and it took several passes and incorporation of George Martin’s feedback before it became the bursting pop hit as we know it now. There’s that Virgo work ethic paying off.

Libra—“Strawberry Fields Forever”

The imagery of the title suggests an eternal harvest. But the star sign resemblance goes deeper than that: Always, no, sometimes think it’s me, but, you know, I know when it’s a dream. I think, er, no, I mean, er, yes, but it’s all wrong... that is, I think I disagree. Did you just hear your Libra roommate rambling after a joint, or did you listen to verse three of “Strawberry Fields”? Same difference. The song is absolutely lovely, as anything associated with the child of Venus should be, and innovative, as befits a Cardinal sign. Most of all, even in all of Libra Sun John’s weighing and weed-wandering, he knows one thing: he’s got to take someone else along with him. A companion, stat! 

Scorpio—“While My Guitar Gently Weeps”

George of the Scorpio moon and Scorpio ascendant had to really lean into this side of his nature to even get this damn track properly recorded. He resorted to the social power play of inviting Eric frickin’ Clapton into the tense post-India studio just to get Lennon, McCartney, and Martin to give his song proper Beatle recording magic. Which it deserved. The dark drama of the hard-won arrangement is the perfect Scorpio accompaniment to the moody, reflective lyrics about “all the love there that’s sleeping” in this weary world. There’s tender, horrified pity here for those who are stifled into inauthenticity: I don’t know how nobody told you how to unfold your love. I don’t know how someone controlled you; they bought and sold you... Bonus points for the Watery ‘just can’t even’-ness of not being able to so much as pick up a damn broom. 

Sagittarius—“Something” 

You’re asking me, will my love grow? I don’t know, I don’t know! A deeply instinctual lover knows that Cupid has done hit a bullseye. He remains emphatically ambivalent about the future, but he knows what he feels in this moment, and in that moment is romance and wonder that is as deep as the earth is from the heavens. Sags are intense, but of all the Fire signs they are most far-seeing and detached (due to their Mutable quality, which makes them see the world a bit more like an Air sign does). “Something” keeps trying to capture that je-ne-sais-quoi, and despite the speaker’s happiness he can’t help but circle back again and again to take another shot at that the mental target. A philosopher even when in love. Ultimately, however, he doesn’t want to leave her now... which for a restless Sag is already saying a ton.

Capricorn—“Revolution”

John let his unfashionable midheaven Capricorn off the leash with this blunt, pointed savaging of radical and violent revolutions. (Given the tanks on Tiananmen Square and the millions dead on the killing fields of Cambodia, I can’t say that his cautionary note about “destruction” and “minds that hate” was unnecessary.) Few things are more Capricorn than ‘Oh, you want my money? Yeah, first show me that you’ve done your fucking homework, mate.’ Bonus Earth points for the fact that he somehow worked sex—a lot of sex—into this political track. 

Aquarius—“Come Together”

John of the Aquarius moon’s decidedly loony attempt to write a political campaign song in order to stop Reagan. (The result was too weird for Timothy Leary, whose reaction was pretty much ‘wtf? I don’t think even I have enough residual acid in my system for this one... ’) John invokes the ideal of collaboration, but his call to solidarity is built around fantastical lyrics that no one can comprehend: He wear no shoeshine, he got/Toejam football, he got/Monkey finger, he shoot/Coca-Cola, he say/I know you, you know me... Oh, right. The lyrics contain exactly one discernible message: One thing I can tell you is you got to be free. How Aqua. Also in true collaborative Water-Bearer fashion, the arrangement really makes the song (special mention to the tight, tight work of the rhythm section). Bizarre genius that attracts a true team effort—it doesn’t get much more Aquarius than that.

Pisces— “I Want to Tell You”

The wall of sound builds up thickly enough that soon the words seem to be traveling through the sea to reach you: I want to tell you my head is filled with things to say... But when you’re here, all those words, they seem to slip away. A gorgeously, emotionally tongue-tied song... about being tongue-tied. Written by George, a Pisces Sun, this absolute mystery of a lyric is all emotion and no logic. If he seems to act unkind, it’s only him, it’s not his mind. Okay, Fishboy. Good thing the track is compellingly lovely and utterly relatable. Which suits the Pisces life exactly: ‘I don’t know what I mean, but it’s exceedingly beautiful and I want you to share it with you very, very much.’ 

[secret-engima]

Here I am. The anon who enables. The enabler anon. Send forth your RWBY verses' rambles *opens arms wide to receive* (only if you want to of course)

ANON WHO ENABLES. ENABLER ANON. BLESS.

Wolfcury:

-Blake isn’t sure what to expect of her new teammates, but Ruby having a GIANT WOLFDOG is not one of them. It takes- a long time for Blake to not flinch and throw herself onto something high whenever Mercury shows up, even though he TRIES to not be a gremlin and bark or prank her.

-Weiss lasts maybe three days before she breaks out the baby talk. Because while Mercury is big he’s still a dog and we’ve seen how Weiss responds to Zwei. Mercury is annoyed by the baby talk and ignores her until Ruby convinces Weiss to “please just talk normally”. Then he will permit the scratching of ears.

-Weiss and Blake are both going to be SO SHOCKED (and upset) that Mercury is actually a person and they were never told.

-Ruby gets super into prosthetics and the building of them because of Mercury. She knows they can get him a prosthetic human leg, but it’s not going to transform into a wolf leg when he does. That technology just- doesn’t exist in that specific way yet. So Ruby decides at age ten or so that she’s gonna make one.

-Ruby: It’s transform when you do and it’ll be great and it’s also gonna be a *gun*.

-Mercury: Ruby I have teeth and claws, I don’t need a gun for a leg.

-Ruby, excitedly drawing prototype blueprints: GUNLEG.

-She does in fact build him a transforming gunnel with Velvet’s help. Mercury is a goodnatured Sigh.

-MercuryxEmerald is the eventual ship planned, and Yang teases him mercilessly for it once she’s sure Emerald is serious about defecting to the good guys. I’m also dabbling in Rosegarden (is that the ship name? OscarxRuby) because the idea of Ruby going from “ew crushes” to having one of her own amuses the heck out of me.

Always I Dreamed (Raven AU):

-Raven has a propensity for adopting things, as evidenced by Ozpin and later Emerald. But it doesn’t stop with them, and her habits are infectious. At various points in Yang’s childhood, she gets a gruff ex-assassin sibling from Mom (Mercury), two adorable cousins from Uncle Qrow (Ren and Nora), one angry older sister bandit (Vernal), a Cool Big Sister Figure with Fire Powers (Amber), and of also another Big Sister with Many Issues of The Anger that Raven carefully helps her work through. This particular big sister is a fav of Ruby’s because she can make cool toys from black glass.

-Yes Raven is fixit adopting Cinder

-No I didn’t see that coming either, neither did Raven. It just kinda- happened.

-Raven absolutely sings RWBY songs sometimes. Usually “Home” as a sibling lullaby for Qrow and later Team STORQ, then later All Our Days for her kids. But sometimes she can be heard humming other themes under her breath.

Azur verse:

-I’ve mentioned that Ozpin is a former Khara and proceeds to adopt Azur the feral Khara child, but I can’t resist touching on how Azur and Qrow meet.

-Azur is feral bby. He woke up in this world in the wilds and his Semblance (or magic, Oz is still not sure which it is) saved him from Grimm, and Azur tended to follow Grimm everywhere because they kept the other predators away. So this child is very feral when Oz finally coaxes him into his house. Azur is also protective and dedicated and knows that the only two people who come here are Ozdad and Housekeeper Lady.

-So when Qrow, very drunk and newly returned from a mission, decides to crash on Oz’s couch, Azur doesn’t have a clue that this is normal and fine. Cue Qrow being attacked and knocked out by a very persistent and angry 7-10 year old.

-Ozpin comes home to a trashed living room, a very proud Azur, and a Qrow who has been tied up using every bit of rope, string, or wire Azur could find and is nursing both a concussion and a hangover.

-Ozpin unties Qrow and explains he’s welcome here once he’s stopped laughing himself sick.

Dragon Yang:

-Yang really likes Ozpin. *Really* likes him. It’s not a crush or anything, but she went from a world soaked in magic to Remnant which has barely any left and it makes her feel off balance and numb. Then she goes to Beacon and the Headmaster HAS MAGIC. She can feel it. So she starts to heavily gravitate toward him when possible because he feels “normal”

-Ozpin, who has been the object of many school hood crushes, takes a bit to realize that Yang is not yet another student with a crush. And then he’s confused on why she keeps falling into his orbit when possible.

-He has no idea that in this magic-starved world, he is basically the living equivalent of dragon slayer catnip.

-Oznip.

-Ruby also thinks Yang has a crush and is thoroughly grossed out because *Yang he’s a TEACHER*. Yang just laughs at her baby sister’s discomfort.

Noctscar:

-Luna wakes up slowly, in fits and starts and dreams of rain and a knife in her side. She wakes up to the cold, to the loneliness, and then wakes up further because no child should have to deal with this.

-Luna wakes up when she is once again eleven years old and stares at herself in the mirror.

-Weiss Schnee, second daughter of Willow and Jaques Schnee, looks back. And looks *tired*.

-Her sister has already joined Altas academy and is on the fast track to the military, and though she loves her sister, it smacks greatly of Ravus from a lifetime ago and Luna cannot bear to look at Winter sometimes because of it.

-She dotes on her little brother, on poor Whitley who is neither stubborn like Winter or an old soul like Luna and yet is stuck in this abusive, neglectful household. She tries to shield him from mother’s blank stares and father’s sharp bursts of temper. She has lived with bruises like this before, better she take it than Whitley.

-When she is young, she hears on the news in school that there was a mining accident, that a great many Faunus died. While the rest of her classmates titter, one girl who Luna always avoided because she hung out with a crowd Luna didn’t trust, bursts into tears and turns bright blue. The other girls recoil. Luna sits down next to the girl and holds her hand, not hiding the tears falling from her own face at the thought of such massive loss of life.

-She never sees the Faunus girl again, but it is a wake up call. A reminder that something is very likely *wrong* with her father’s company. So she investigates.

-She is twelve the first time she sneaks out in a hoodie and a little painted theater mask. She makes it all the way down to Mantle, and there she reaches for blistered hands and weary souls. She is no longer an Oracle, but magic is of the soul and she remembers it well. When she calls, golden magic answers. She heals until she is exhausted, and somehow she manages to make it home without falling over or getting caught by Klein. She does it again, in between recitals and school and taking care of Whitley, she continues to sneak down to Mantle. Never speaking, never showing her face (they would hate her for her blood if they knew, she knows, reject her help if they saw her white hair and blue eyes), but always helping and healing where she can.

-The people of Mantle name her. Ghost, they call her.

-Moon Angel, the Faunus whisper. Helper, healer, lost soul.

-When she is thirteen, Luna signs up to a combat school despite her father’s disapproval. When Whitley clings to her in fear that she too will abandon him as Winter has (Winter visits to rarely, and always her attention rests solely on Weiss when she does and it makes Luna so *angry*), Luna tells him her plan. She will become a Huntress, and when she has her license, nothing will stop her from coming and taking him away from this place. She will be able to make money to provide for them, to free them from this cold palace of finery and recitals and empty wine bottles and bruises under their clothes in the shape of a man’s hands.

-When she is seventeen she applies to Beacon rather than Atlas, in defiance more than desire. She bids Whitley goodbye and promises once again to come back for him, he just needs to hold on a little longer.

-There is faith in his eyes as he waves her off. Luna died keeping her word, her duty, in another life. She will do no less here.

[ugh-againwiththenames]

A Musical Social Experiment...Destiel.

Alright, so I thought to myself, while playing along with @thenightwemetnatural​‘s Destiel song picks, that despite my musical tastes, and them tending typically (although not exclusively) towards the Metal genres, that EVERY song can in some way, be paralleled to Destiel. This is such a ridiculous experiment, and I apologize, but I’m at the cottage, and it’s fucking pouring with rain, so let’s play…

Here are the rules: take your Music library and throw it on Shuffle – every song that comes on for an hour(ish), connect it to Destiel...(below the cut for my results).

You can access the playlist here (if you have any interest in listening along!). I am not going to necessarily describe every possible connection - I think that a lot of them are SUPER obvious...like *eyes rolling out of my head* obvious...

In the End – Black Veil Brides – Well we’re off to a hell of a start, as this song from start to finish screams Destiel and sacrifice. In the end As my soul's laid to rest What is left of my body Or am I just a shell? And I have fought And with flesh and blood I commanded an army Through it all I have given my heart for a moment of glory Who will remember this last goodbye 'Cause it's the end and I'm not afraid I'm not afraid to die A Modern Way - The Exies – only on song 2, and it’s once again, really hard to cut out any of this song, as the repeating “I’m bound by my insecurities” SCREAMS Dean at me.

I’m Bound by my insecurities

Open your eyes and Throw your arms around me I need the right not to fight To breathe

Swallow the lies I'm the one to blame Having no voice left to choose Am i so blind, feeling justified When i'm alone and confused

Brother – NEEDTOBREATHE – I have to laugh…as I added this after watching Jensen sing this at a Con (for J*red), and no lie, I’m in LOVE with it, but it’s somehow now determinably connected to the brothers for me but I can/WILL draw the lines here…EASY.

Everybody needs someone beside em’ shining like a lighthouse from the sea Face down in the desert now there’s a cage locked around my heart I found a way to drop the keys where my failures were Now my hands can’t reach that far I ain’t made for a rivalry I could never take the world alone I know that in my weakness I am strong, but It’s your love that brings me home Summoners Rift – Dangerkids – Um. Well. The first line of this song just made me laugh out loud.

There's no room for martyrs in a dying scene Well I'm not quite dead I'm something in between

And if I had another chance I would tell you

I guess I'm not afraid of what comes after We are the only ones We stand alone in the dark

Question everything you blindly follow Truth's a bitter pill, it's hard to swallow You think you're winning but your time is borrowed We are the only ones We stand alone in the dark

Royal Beggars - Architects - I mean…the repetition of my sentiments is going to get a bit silly…so i will not. read on...

All hope is dead, but we're coping

Somebody save our souls

Like a bird in a cage, trying to fly away Is this the price that we have to pay? Overflowing with rage, yet we still obey 'Cause we're asleep in a hurricane

We sit on a throne, waiting for God to bend the knee But we're nothing more than royal beggars

Edge of your Bed - Thousand Below - “why’d you have to go and keep calling out my name” Calling out my name” pure purgatory “where’s the ANGEL” “I prayed to you Cas, Every night” The rest of the next verse is also poignant, very Dean again “where I can only feel peace when the wave hits”, “and I’ve become what I thought was wrong, I love the feeling when it feels too strong”.  

Why'd you have to go and keep calling out my name? Calling out my name

I found sorrow at the edge of your bed

Is it now a bad habit? Where I can only feel peace when the wave hits And I've become what I thought was wrong I love the feeling when it feels too strong

Animals – Siamese - “It takes a killer that thinks he’s a saint, it takes believing to be this insane” – well. yes. ok. 

Shattered not broken We stand our feet Houses rebuild on These bloody streets I fill my lungs into this beat With closed eyes we're hoping for remedy

It takes a killer That thinks he's a saint It takes believing To be this insane

Spineless Crow - Hands Like Houses

We were young together but I've grown ancient Cracked and weathered and filled with regret Waiting to sink, rushing to sink in my sleep

The realization sinks in through the skin Like a disease, a blight inside of me Missing your touch, your weight on my fingers

My Underworld - Tonight Alive

Now we sail into deep blue storm clouds Overhead now, strangely I feel at peace as I dive into My underworld, world I dive into my underworld, world Down in these depths I'm adding up the numbers Of all I've suffered in past lives, tied down in the darkness Finally I begin to learn what I've returned tonight Time has come to begin again, leave something else behind

Ever After - Marianas Trench - All this talk of being someone’s disaster – Welp! Hello!

Don't you move Can't you stay where you are, just for now I could be your perfect disaster You could be my ever after

Apologies, I'm not myself but I can guarantee That when I get back, you won't believe That you knew me well Don't want to think about it

I'm fuckin' tired of getting sick about it Now stand back up and be a man about it And fight for something, fight for something, fight for something Nobody told ya this is gonna fold ya We go marching in like toy soldiers To have and hold ya over sold ya They’re marching like toy soldiers I'll be your disaster, ever after So fire away Goodbye

Room 138 - Asking Alexandria - While this song is clearly actually about an overdose of some kind, it’s parallels shockingly well to the post confession scene.   So these are the walls that have to hold this moment Somebody hear me, someone open up the door Get me up off of this floor and stop the shaking, the shaking Through the haze I saw a face A second chance, another life to live How did you forgive me? Held my head against your chest Told me everything's alright, don't be afraid Close your eyes and rest

Witness – Daughtry

Does it feel like you're just wasting time Here without a reason or a rhyme The answer you've been looking for Is standing right before your weary eyes And if the weight of the world is on you now But you know you can turn it all around again How Many Walls - Rise Against  - Guys, seriously, I’m not even going there...How many years have we wasted….how many walls can you put up? How many guns til you feel safe? This is a song about war – this is Rise Against, this is purely political and somehow can STILL be pulled together with Destiel.

 How many walls can you put up?

How many guns 'til you feel safe? How many times can we watch this story Over and over and over again? And how many years have we wasted Counting the lies that we've been fed? For something to change we have waited Over and over and over again Pray – Picturesque - Nope. Don’t even need a description here. Once again this is FAR TOO OBVIOUS!

I should pray a little more and think a little less The devils in my head and he won't let me rest Everyday just like the last since you up and left I should pray a little more, I shouldn't pray for death I Knew You Were Trouble – We Came as Romans (Swift Cover) - SwiftNatural is a thing for a reason… 

It's like a kaleidoscope of memories. It just all comes back. But he never does. I knew his world moved too fast and burned too bright. But I just thought, how can the devil be pulling you toward someone who looks so much like an angel

I think that the worst part of it all wasn't losing him. It was losing me. Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago I was in your sights, you got me alone You found me

I knew you were trouble when you walked in (you were right there, you were right there) So shame on me now Flew me to places I'd never been Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground Texas Is Forever - Pierce the Veil – lack of communication anyone? I don’t know, do we know anyone like that? If anything should happen to me I want you to know, I’ve loved you since ever…

Here we are If anything should happen to me I want you to know I've loved you since ever since then Don't dance around me I know what it means No communication, cannot be received But I'm such a sucker for the rain, yeah Oh, here we are Butterfly - Wearing Scars – the Butterfly/Angel parallel alone…go with it.

Seems we're alone We're fixated Just waiting for something As time goes by And when we're way up high We'll look back down with different eyes Let's take our time Awake this life So spread your wings And take my hand Tonight will be the end

With Grace - The Weight of Atlas

This place looks like hell to me I cast myself into the sea Picked up my conscience and left my disease I don't know, I don't know if I can make it through this storm Keep your eyes shut it will be okay. Will we make it out alive? Will we make it out alive. When all you have is hope I will be your anchor I know that I can let you down But I swear I'll pick up the pieces. And be reborn again I Always Wanted to Leave - The Plot In You

I guess it's a shame I'm so damn destructive And you're so reluctant to mean what you say The way you act so abused The things you confuse You know I always wanted to leave "Hello... You can sing, I'm here And I love you more than anyone or anything With all my heart."

Unsteady - X Ambassadors – just a stay parallel. Don’t leave, don’t let go. If you love me. Don’t let go. #I haz the sads.

Hold on to me 'Cause I'm a little unsteady If you love me Don't let go Bury Me Alive - Normandie – pick a line – ANY LINE!!! 

I guess I'm not going to heaven now I got caught in the chase Now I'm falling from grace But I never stood a chance Could've given me a sign I'd be giving you blind obedience Mantra – Bring Me The Horizon Before the truth will set you free, it will piss you off Before you find a place to be, you're gonna lose the plot Too late to tell you now, one ear and right out the other one 'Cause all you ever do is chant the same old mantra Could I have your attention, please? It's time to tap into your tragedy Think you could use a new abuser Close your eyes and listen carefully Imagine you're stood on a beach Water gently lapping at your feet And now you're sinking, what were you thinking? That's all the time we have this week

Oh Lord - In This Moment – cutting any of this out was actually hard. Cas, my love, are you there?

Oh Lord won't you save me Save me from my soul Oh Lord won't you forgive me For I have lost control Oh Lord won't you tell me Am I the righteous or the damned? Oh Lord won't you please hear me Do I obey or do I command? Oh Lord please forgive me For what I'm about to do Oh Lord won't you believe me I'll burn in hell for you Oh Lord won't you teach me Teach me how to see Oh Lord tell me you love me Am I Lillith or am I Eve?

Bleeding is a Luxury - Atreyu

I’ve talked the talk, I've walked the walk, It's taken ten fucking years, For them to see I don't need their approval. I've paid the piper, I've stayed my course, Lived chomping at the bit. With only blood, sweat, and tears to adhere to- Take it for granted, Forsake the costs, Wear a big, shit-eating grin (with only blood, sweat, and tears to adhere to) Now bear the burden to chase your fate Grind your teeth 'til it fucking hurts So they can see I don't need their approval. Seize the day, Take your beatings, Lead the way, Or decay as you fall down... You fall down.

Would you Still be There - Of Mice & Men – wow, this song in full. All of it. I can’t.

If I could find the words, if I could shake the world, If I could turn back time would you still be there? I can't stop thinking about the way I left you sinking with no escape. Now there's no lifeline, no way to save. But maybe next time I won't throw it all away. Dislocated, I lie awake Suffocating in my mistakes. I lost my halo when I fell from grace, But maybe next time I won't throw it all away. I ask myself everyday... If I could find the words, if I could shake the world, If I could turn back time would you still be there? If I could find the words to say, If I could shake the world to break you down, Then would you still be there?

The Broken - 3 Doors Down 

This is the call to the broken, the broken Take it from me. They don't care if you're lonely. As you can see, They don't care if you're scared. Your heart Is the only friend you have in this whole world. Don't start, Think you can do this yourself. I know what you're thinking. You say you're tired of keeping score, keeping score. Trust me, You're not the only one going through this. You see, I've been through this before, this before.

Wow, I Hate This Song - The Used – this one took a little imagination – hardest one so far – because it really is just about hating a song! So we’re HC’ing the Zepp track that reminds Dean most of Cas, post Empty.

Every time I hear the key I see you in the melody It never was a part of me Heart feels like it's being stabbed Kills me emotionally Dirty Little Secret - Bullet For My Valentine – let’s take this back to – take your pick…Leviathan!Cas, Godstiel, Casifer, any of the times that Cas did the wrong thing for the right reasons…and did not tell his boy. 

There once was a time Where everything was just so perfect Now everything has changed And you've become a total stranger I've seen another side to you I never even knew existed Dirty little secrets, dirty little secrets Giving in to your primal instincts There once was a time When anything I do is for you But everything has changed And I've become a lonely prisoner I'd kill, even die for you You never even tried resisting

Kill Plan - Parabelle

I'm sitting stunned just like a lesson I never learned Made of emotions and mistakes And what you say Leaves me lost and in the way And that's the place you stay Remember silence Now we're painted into corners So we can watch the world get sold out Hold me closer don't let the sun in Hold me closer don't let the sun in Cuz the setting sun feels like a cage Don't let me defend the kill plan

Roman Sky – Avenged Sevenfold – This song only has a few lyrics, but we can definitely make them work.

As the embers rose through the Roman Sky Tell me, were you calm when they took your life? Just before you go, tell us how the heavens flow Weightless evermore, as you walk beyond that door Shine forever true To Those Left Behind – blessthefall – these boys might be my favourite band ever, but these are ANGRY lyrics – these are about betrayal.  This is a relationship gone wrong. I feel these best work with the divorce arc, the Angry Dean that we see, or Dean’s mood after any of the “Cas fucked up again” moments. You found me at my worst When I was far too weak to grow In spite of all my fears And how I may have lost my way Only now I know the truth

Awake and coming clean

If you can't sleep It's your conscience That's eating away At the mess you made So let's end this Sew this last stitch Lift this weight off my chest I'll put you to rest The past should stay dead

How did we find ourselves here? Haunted by our own design With everything that's come to pass Makes it harder to confine

[greenbergwrites]

Oh lord but alternate/future lumberjack!bucky storyline, Steve IS the spoiled omega runt of the pack, no one CAN refuse him anything, Bucky is just all indulgent heart eyes. Thank you for this gift of a thought omg

I gotta be honest with you, friend, as soon as I wrote that bit, my brain was plagued by the idea of an AU where Steve grew up as the spoiled Omega runt

Maybe his pack is a mountain-dwelling one or maybe they have a ceremonial building where the hold gatherings, but either way, I imagine this rustic sort of banquet hall.

There’s a dais at one end, where Steve lounges on a chaise-like piece of furniture while he’s doted on by selected pack members. Dressed in a light, flowy tunic that borderlines indecent, tbh. I’m gonna be honest, a lot of this imagery is very Ancient Greek and/or Roman-inspired, I’m a slut for it and I’ll come up with whatever excuses I have to in order to get what I want.

ANYWAYS.

Steve’s lounging on one side of the dais, and on the other side, his parents (the head of the pack) sit in their throne-like seats. Steve is of mating age now, and this party is with that in mind.

Suitors from all over come for the chance to be the one to win his hand. 

As a runt, he’s special, coveted. I imagine Omega runts to be very much like nymphs, creatures of hedonistic pleasure. Absolutely fucking spoiled.

Having one mate into a pack says a lot about the pack itself. Not only are they calm and stable, but it speaks of their pack bonds, their generosity, and loving nature. A runt has to be cared for by their pack; given the choice, one would never choose a pack where they were neglected.

Among the crowd, there’s Bucky. I imagine him much like Wakanda!Bucky, bearded and solemn. This world-weary older wolf, the kind of air about him that says he’s seen too much, that says there’s blood on his hands that weighs heavily on him.

He’s probably called James in this ‘verse, Bucky is not a very dignified name for the dignified wolf I imagine.

I don’t think he’s there as a suitor himself. Maybe he came as part of another Alpha’s entourage, or whatever.

At some point, Steve probably gets tired of being pandered to and goes outside for some fresh air. Only one of the Alphas follows him to harass him, and when Steve rebuffs him, it probably gets physical.

Before the guy can do much more than yank on Steve’s arm, James is there, this silent, deadly force. He doesn’t mean to knock the guy out, but that’s what happens, and then it’s just the two of them standing there.

Steve trembles with left over adrenaline. He hugs himself around the middle, this picture of vulnerability, but he tries to sound braver than he feels when he addresses the Alpha who helped him.

“I suppose now you’ll regale me with tales of how you’ll protect me if I chose you?” He asks haughtily, but even he can hear the tremor in his voice. There’ll be no fooling the Alpha. “Or demand my promise of mating in exchange for your help? Go on, then. Tell me how you’re the only appropriate mate for me.”

It’s been happening all night, one Alpha after the other doing little more than ridiculing the other guests, vying for even a moment of his attention so they can tell him how he deserves a mate like them.

This man does none of those things. Silently, he removes his cloak and drapes it around Steve’s shoulders, pulling it closed to shield him from the rising wind.

“Any man who would offer help, but only at a price, is not a man worthy of a mate,” he says quietly. “But most certainly, he would not be a man worthy of an Omega.”

Steve blinks in surprise, staring up into bright, hazel eyes. A flush creeps along his skin, warmth flaring in his belly despite the cool night air.

“Is that so?” He asks, the haughtiness gone from his tone. 

The man nods, those intense eyes still on him, and Steve finds himself looking away. His heart beats faster, and now, he trembles for an entirely different reason.

“It’s certainly an interesting tactic you have,” he says, glancing out at the surrounding forest. “Appearing to be the more noble of my suitors.”

He expects the man to ask if his ploy is working. Steve has to say that yes, yes it is. Here is a man calm and settled, a real Alpha rather than a pup playing at one and throwing tantrums when his games are ignored.

But once again, the man doesn’t do what he expects.

“If I am noble at all, it is not as a suitor,” he murmurs. “I haven’t come to claim you, little one.”

Steve stills, staring up at the man in shock.

“No?” He asks softly. “Then why have you come?”

Plush lips tick up in the corner, an almost imperceptible smile.

“I heard tell of an Omega coming of age,” he answers. “A runt whose beauty went unrivaled. Your parents would only permit one suitor per pack. I’ve been told of the many fights that broke out between packmates, all trying to win the chance to be your mate. I saw a few, even. I had to set eyes on the one who would cause such a ruckus and see if the stories were true.”

Steve licked his lips. “And your thoughts now?”

The Alpha reaches out to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind Steve’s ear, his calloused fingers brushing lightly along Steve’s jaw.

“I think,” he murmurs quietly, “that even a single night spent between your thighs would be an undeserved heaven. But a lifetime? Being accepted as your mate, earning your affection? Having you proudly wear a claiming mark?”

His fingers drop to the place on Steve’s neck where such a mark would go, before they leave him completely, his hand falling back to his side. Steve immediately misses his touch.

“‘Unworthy’ is not a strong enough word,” the Alpha says. “You are a treasure, little one. Beautiful and sweet, but that sweetness must be earned. You’re right to make us earn it. An Omega’s submission is a gift. Anyone who doesn’t work to gain it doesn’t deserve it. Remember that.”

Silently, Steve nods. He has nothing to say, not a single thing. He only knows the flush to his skin and the warmth in his belly, hardening his cock and wetting his hole. Part of him wants to bare his throat right then, wants this Alpha to take him to the ground and mate him right there in the cool night air.

But a bigger part of him thrills at the idea of being courted by this Alpha. Of making him earn it, just as he said.

“Come, little one,” the Alpha murmurs, one of those big hands cupping his elbow. Steve allows himself to be guided out of the wind, toward the doors. “It’s cold out, let’s get you where it’s warm.”

It’s only when Steve stumbles over a booted foot that he even remembers the man who’d accosted him. He glances from the unconscious body to his savior.

“What about him?” He asks, and the haughtiness is such a distant memory that Steve can’t believe it was ever there. Now, his voice is soft and hesitant. He trusts the Alpha to take care of him, to guide him.

Something flashes in the Alpha’s eyes. 

“Don’t worry about him,” he says. “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of. Inside now. Your suitors await you.”

Steve wants to laugh. There will be no choosing among the pups inside.

As he steps over the threshold, he turns back to face his Alpha.

“What’s your name?” He asks.

The Alpha blinks, as if he surprised. He reaches for Steve’s hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

“Forgive me,” he says, “I should have introduced myself before. My name is James.”

Steve’s hand still tingles long after the Alpha has left him go, the memory of his lips a brand on his skin. He doesn’t bother with the pretenders any longer, ignoring their attempts at his attention.

He’s already made his choice. His future mate’s name is James.

[sp00kymulderr]

Regenerate

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x ofc

Warnings: Mentions of sex and nudity

Word Count: 1,648

Summary: Geralt visits an old flame with an unusual power

A/N: Don’t mind me just reposting this old fic to refer back to in the future! I am not planning on writing Geralt again but I have been thinking a lot about the oc of this story, Verra, and maybe moving her over to a story I’m writing in the Prospect-verse so I thought I’d post the first little thing I wrote about her.

Two sharp knocks and the door swings open. He isn’t sure how he got here, barely remembers the journey but he can already feel some thrum of warmth pulsing through him as he silently passes through the door into the dimly lit room inside.

“Witcher. I wondered if I might see you again” comes a woman's voice, soft and unsurprised. If anything she sounds pleased to see him, and that is something the man is not used to these days.

“Verra” Geralt’s deep voice mutters her name as she rises from the chair to his left and meets him in the middle of the room, helping him remove the black coat and unbuckle the strap on his shoulder so he can place down the heavy sword on his back. He turns away and quickly falls in to the plush armchair she had just risen from.

“It feels good to sit on something other than a saddle” he groans out as his head falls back. Squeezing his eyes shut, he lets out a long breath.

“Welcome back, Geralt. Gods, you’re exhausted. Let me tend to you” Verra entreats softly, and when he nods slowly she moves back towards him and leans over him to place two fingertips to his temples. His features soften somewhat when she does this, and he turns his head slightly to press his lips to her wrist before moving back to look up at her.

“Good to see you” he murmurs, sincere, unable to say much more for now. The woman simply shushes him and smiles down at him before turning back to the task at hand.

Geralt is exhausted. He’s been riding for almost two days straight, bloodied and aching from completing his latest contract. He may heal quickly, but even witchers get tired and the alderman who had paid him had been thankful but unwilling to allow a witcher to lodge in his township any longer than it took to slay the beast. They were afraid of him, people always were. It wearied Geralt but it didn’t surprise him. He was, to many, the lesser of two evils...but still an evil.

But he didn’t want to think of that right now, instead focusing on the woman in front of him.

Finding Verra was a challenge in itself; the simple wooden cabin lay in a clearing deep in the forest, but some sorcery in the clearing caused the mind to struggle, something akin to a light fog forming in the brain to cause confusion. You had to really need to see Verra to get past it. Geralt needed her.

He regards her now, as her fingers brush from his temples up through his white hair. Her eyes are closed as she focuses on him, familiarising herself with his mind once more, but beneath the lids lie bewitching emerald green eyes that can’t be forgotten in a hurry – her most striking feature, by all accounts the rest of her is quite plain but he never sees her that way. Her tawny beige skin has an almost golden glow to it, reminding him of first light on an autumn morning, and her dusky pink lips are slightly parted as she concentrates.

Verra isn’t a sorceress, she can’t create a glamour to appear a certain way – although he believes she wouldn’t even if she could – Verra doesn’t need the illusion of beauty, because the constant hum of life about her is what makes her so intriguing and intoxicating, causes travellers to make pilgrimage to her. Her true beauty lies in her power and her kind nature. Geralt had thought she was some sort of siren at first, because he was drawn to her without ever meaning to be. He was wary of her, the first time he found himself at her door with barely any clue how he got there. And then he saw her and felt her and understood, she was an ordinary human with an extraordinary and unprecedented power.

“Come, Geralt. And tell me of your travels, how goes the monster hunting?” Verra interrupts his recollections of their first meeting, sliding a hand down his shoulder and then his arm before taking his hand in hers. Pulling him up with little resistance, she means to lead him to the tub – to let him wash away his woes before her work can truly begin but he stops her and pulls her back towards him, pressing his lips down on hers and cupping her face in his large, pale hands, rough against her skin. The kiss, though short, breathes some fresh life in to him and makes her gasp.

She pushes him away lightly, a playful smile on her lips although her eyes betray her excitement at his touch. “I’d rather you bathed first” she jests, wrinkling her nose and walking away from him with a laugh.

“Fine” Geralt groans, removing his clothes with no cares about modesty, revealing the ghostly white skin marked with scars. He moves unusually gracefully towards her where she sits, on the side of the full and steaming tub. His dark eyes meet her green ones for a moment where neither speaks, before he climbs in and settles in the warm water, letting out an unintended blissful moan at the feeling of soaking his aching muscles. Verra is sure she could just watch him all day, she’s been fascinated by the witcher since they first met several years ago. He always has an interesting story for her, and for everything she gives to him he gives just as good to her.

The pair talk, catching up like old friends, while he bathes. When she pours them each a drink of cider they toast to each others health with laughter, knowing that one will feel twice the person they currently do by the end of the evening, the other half.

“Clean enough for you now?” Geralt asks, rising from the water as she enthusiastically nods her approval. He looks better for it, even if there’s still no colour to his skin.

“Perfect. Now come lie down” she tells him, with a kind smile, as he dries himself down quickly.

His eyes remain on her as she unlaces and slips out of the simple dress leaving only the thin linen, off-white chemise. While she sits patiently on the end of the bed, waiting for him, Geralt considers if he wants to be with her because of her power or in spite of it. What Verra can do, it’s unique. It’s fascinating, but also intimidating. And she could use it for her own advantage, to get in to certain circles, even in to the palace, but she has only ever used it to help.

Silently, and still naked, Geralt makes his way to her and gets on to the bed. He lies down on his back as she moves to sit besides him and he brings a hand to hers, trailing fingers gently up her arm. He can be incredibly tender-hearted when he wants to be.

“Close your eyes” Verra whispers to him when he lets go of her. “Trust me, Geralt”

“You know I do. I...” he trails off, mind wandering in to some peaceful state when her hands come down to touch his skin. The pulses of vitality flowing from her through to him. He presses his head back in to the pillow, finding pleasure amongst the unusual sensations as her fingers dance in graceful patterns across his body and he feels life, energy, return to him because of her. Warmth, true warmth, spreading across his body with each passing second. He could never get used to this feeling, but he also wishes he could experience it daily. Being able to feel so alive…revived.

Verra herself wouldn’t be able to find any peace whilst the magic wound it’s course from her body and through his veins. With some people it was easy, and others it was so painful she could only administer her gift in small doses. With Geralt there is pain and loneliness, but she also experiences his courage and his determination. The rousing song of goodness that lives in his heart. She sees his memories, even feels in some smalls ways his fears and desires, as her hands continue their work on him. It comes all at once, confusing and overwhelming, and she starts to shake the longer they continue.

Verra pushes through though, as she always does with him. She can tell he’s received all he needs when his memories and thoughts start to fade from her subconscious, left with one passing memory that’s deeply familiar to her; skin-on-skin in another, even more intimate way. She brushes her fingers lightly above his heart before drawing away, breathing heavy with the exertion of the strange sorcery as she lightly coaxes him back to a waking state.

“It’s done, Geralt. Rise. Be” she breathes in to his ear, voice low as she brushes fingers gently through his hair again.

His eyes open slowly, readjusting quickly, and already feeling more rejuvenated than he has in months. He could ride for miles again now but instead of getting up to dress he puts an arm around her and pulls the woman down to lie at his side. Pushing away the loose hairs that have fallen from her untidy braid, he observes her closely for some time with a half smile on his lips. Both silent. She doesn’t say it but he knows she’s drained now, and needs time to recover.

“Rest now, elaine, and let me stay with you until daybreak? It’s your turn to regenerate”

“Yes” is all she answers with, curling in to him and closing her eyes now, pleased to have him here again even for only a few more hours. They lie there together in silence again, two oddities misunderstood by many, sharing memories and so much more.

[allycryz]

Duende - Uri & Haurche :3

PG because Haurchefant makes innuendo, set during early Stormblood.

The first draft of this was super easy to get out. The edits were a little harder because Urianger’s voice is very different from mine, but a good challenge all the same!!

‘Tis expected of a Scion to battle as expertly as one might pen a treatise. Urianger schedules two ventures per day to hone his physical talents: a bracing run before dawn and a lengthy solo training session at dusk. For the latter, he takes to the rocky shore along the coast line. The precarious climb to his preferred spot (providing both privacy and space) is part of his regimen.

Urianger picks the times when visibility is low and most residents occupied. Small talk is not his wont, nor is he at ease with those not in his immediate circle. There is something about his unmasked, unhooded face that gives strangers tacit permission to approach.

His position and decorum dictate that he engage somewhat in chatter during his errands. The residents do not press overmuch, for which he is grateful. Still, the task fits him worse than the too-small aldgoat leather gloves Lyse gifted him on his last Nameday. (Except, those he could not put on as easily as he might a polite demeanor. They refused to go past the breadth of his palm.)

There are days when the convenience of sunrise and sunset for sundry reasons, prove incompatible with other needs such as visibility and safety.

The unexpected rain pours down as he wends his weary way up the cliffs. It sluices through his hair, running rivulets over his brow. For the dozenth time, he swipes at his face and squints against the onslaught.

His feet remember where to place, his hands where to grip for balance. These are his cliffs and his winding, narrow path. No one knows it better. Should that memory etched into his muscle fail, a fall here would not be deadly.

‘Twould be painful though, and impact his duties for the next few days. For that latter reason–above all–he takes longer than usual along the rain-slicked terrain. 

There, he thinks as he nears the safety of the plateau. Urianger blows out a soft breath of relief, relaxing muscles he has kept tense during the arduous journey. For this stretch he has always found it best to walk sideways, arms spread for balance. It has never been a treacherous spot, simply steep enough to warrant caution.

Today, treachery comes at last. He takes a step up the incline, shifts to lift the other foot. The slippery grass beneath his boots gives way and both feet shoot out from under him. He has enough presence of mind to throw his gravity forward rather than backwards.

The impact is unpleasant but survivable; naught but his palms and dignity scraped. Dirt and mud bespatter the front of his shorter training robe. The cotton garment ends below his knees, the boots just above. Thus the joints are spared injury besides a dull ache. He chooses an ignominious crawl up to the plateau rather than risk another fall by rising on the sodden incline.

The rain is not so courteous as to clean his garments. It does offer some reprieve as he turns his stinging palms up to the sky and rubs the rainwater against the creases of grime and grass.

Ah, well. Rain is uncommon enough that he should be glad when it comes. Should his comrades ever summon him to battle in such precipitation, he shall be well-prepared. Lord Haurchefant oft speaks of how training in winter climes these five years have better forged him for difficult conflict. (Urianger suspects it is not only snow and ice that stood in the knight’s way.)

He finds himself smiling, thinking of his new colleague. Though their base is near underground, ‘tis not wholly cut off from the outside world. Vents let in sunlight, rain can be heard pouring upon the streets. Like as not, Haurchefant put a kettle on soon as he perceived the change in weather. 

The Waking Sands are enchanted to remain a cool temperature. If the sun does return in full force, they shall not overheat drinking cocoa.

Befouled, bedraggled, and besodden; he returns to the outskirts of Vesper Bay. The twilight and the rain have not put off the residents. A knot of people gathers near the market stalls, the hum of their voices rising just above the thrum of rain upon roof and stone and sea. The citizens hold cloaks and hands over their head as shields, one has a parasol meant for sun and aesthetics. 

‘Tis a lovely pink one with expensive-seeming trim. A shame it is likely ruined.

The reason for their cluster becomes apparent. Lord Haurchefant is the focus upon which they circle, tallest among them save two other residents. His silvered head is bent to them as they harken to his low voice. This eve, he has garbed himself in a long scarlet coat over his usual apparel. ‘Tis the first time he has donned sleeves since his arrival.

 (For all the good it did me to be tempered by winter, his lordship had said. It does make me rather pitiful in a desert. I shall do my best to acclimate to Thanalan.) 

They all gaze upon him with utter rapture. It has ever been so, since his lordship’s residence began in the Waking Sands while Urianger’s comrades and Haurchefant’s love continued on to Gyr Abania. Their adoration is not due solely to his fair countenance or noble title, though both must aid the cause.

There is an...openness in him that beguiles all he meets. Urianger has witnessed the surliest residents and most peevish of vendors open like blossoms to the sun when Haurchefant turns the glory of his attention upon them. Such an unusual power he has seldom witnessed and never from so kind a soul as this knight.

There is no avoiding this throng, even would it not be unconscionably rude to avoid his guest. At least there is a smaller chance of strangers engaging him in conversation. Not with a beacon such as Haurchefant seizing their attention, both intentionally and involuntarily.

“-suppose he will be alright, he knows the land better than I.” He hears Haurchefant saying as he approaches. His noble brow is drawn down, his battle-sculpted arms folded. “But do let me know if you see him. No one expected this rainfall.”

Doth he….speak of me? Urianger wonders. As if attuned to his thoughts, his lordship turns his way. Surprise, then relief, and then rapture all pass across his handsome features.

“Urianger!” He exclaims. “Thank the Fury. I was worried–I know you favor treacherous paths,and with the dark and the rain…”

“I am well,” says Urianger. “Thy concern is much appreciated and noted. ‘Twould have been a perilous journey had I not been close acquainted with yon cliffs.”

Haurchefant steps towards him, gaze sweeping up and down. Lingering on his bare face, throat, and collar. “It seems it was perilous for your clothes. Let’s get you inside and taken care of, yes?”

One of the crowd smiles at Urianger. Mara, he recalls, the tall Hyur woman who hawks fruit.  “Well, we’re glad you’re alright, ser. I was just telling June that I worry when I see you go off in the dark.”

“Ah,” he says, trying to recall which is June. The baker. Yonder woman with the braids who oft gives thee extra tea biscuits. “Tis not my intent to cause worry. I am well versed in the land and how best to scale it.”

“Even knowing that, do be careful.” Mara gives an imperious nod. Others nod as well, their eyes on him and not the handsome knight.

He can only nod again, bearing and smile stiff. He does not recall all their names. It makes him feel the most ill-mannered of scoundrels. He sweeps into a bow towards them, hoping it goes to some measure in repaying their concerns. “I shall endeavor to have a care, my lady. Your solicitous care bringeth warmth into mine heart, ‘tis only right I do well by all gathered.”

She smiles and pats his arm. This seems a signal for all to disperse, more residents bestowing upon him pats and nods. It is a wholly alien experience, and he considers he may be lying at the bottom of the cliff in the midst of a delusion. Surely he is not dear to all these people with whom he barely speaks.

“Come friend,” Haurchefant says. “You need to get out of those wet clothes and have something warm in your belly.”

“Thou art just as sodden,” says Urianger. “Pray also attend to yourself. Thou shouldst not catch sick for mine sake.”

“Ah but I would have done so gladly if I had to save you today.” The knight’s smile is wide again, fair dazzling in its potency. Again, Urianger is astonished any resident would look at him with Haurchefant there. Do they not sense the charm radiating from his very core? “I do thank you, for arriving when you did. There are much better games we might play in the dark than hide and seek.”

Urianger near trips on the steps up to the door. Of course, Haurchefant is there to catch him, strong hands righting his balance and smoothing over his back. 

“I beg thine pardon,” says Urianger. Regretful that he has no mask or hood to hide the heat upon his cheeks. As Lord Haurchefant is cheeky himself to everyone, he is likely used to it. ‘Tis not the first time Urianger has witnessed or received innuendo delivered so warmly from this man. “Mayhap I used more energy than I surmised, during my exertions today.”

“Yes,” Haurchefant nods, opening the door. “All the more reason for you to come relax with me once you have cleaned up. I shall not have you burying yourself in work when you have earned respite.”

“For a little while,” says Urianger. He glances back at the streets, at the residents seeking shelter in houses and under awnings. At the way some of them look at them–at him. Relief and concern and warmth in their gazes. He frowns and cannot lose the change to his mien, even in the warmth and dry of the building.

Haurchefant pauses at the top of the stares, giving his shoulders a roll before beginning his descent. ‘Tis late and his friend is often tense in his upper body by the time supper comes. He will need help working the knots loose again. Perhaps Urianger might put off his tasks even further to repay Haurchefant’s worry and concern.

As to everyone else in Vesper Bay, he is at a loss on how to make recompense.

His friend reaches the door to their sanctum and turns back, looking up at Urianger still upon the landing. “Dear Urianger, what is the matter? That’s a rather pensive expression.”

“...I didst not realise the depth of their regard for mine person. Yon residents and I art not particularly close.” He shakes his head.

“Oh,” says Haurchefant, that entrancing smile returning to his mouth. “Do ask me an easier one next time.”

Facetiousness is not Haurchefant’s way. The ironic reply seems out of character. “Yes, I am aware the reasoning seems difficult to determine-”

“‘Tis not.” Haurchefant’s eyes crinkle with laughter. It does not sting–there is no malice in it. He doubts such a quality resides in the knight. “You are quite charming, even when cloaked. It inspires others to take interest in you.”

For the second time, Urianger says “I beg thine pardon? I am not given to using mine wiles-”

“No, no. We should all be in trouble should you do it apurpose. But you have a natural draw that leads people to want to know you. As you signal that is not what you want, they have kept their distance.”

It is an absurd supposition that Haurchefant says with all the conviction of his noble heart. So much does he seem to believe it; that Urianger wants to also trust it, if only for his friend’s sake. “I am...uncertain of the validity of thy premise. However, thy kindness and belief warms my heart. Wouldst that every man hath such a friend as you, my lord.”

At this, Haurchefant lets out a clear, ringing laugh. Again, there is no mockery in it. The sound is joyful and pleased, as seductive a sound as every part of the man. ‘Tis a wonder such a man as he thinks his draw is mirrored in Urianger.

“So I must endeavor to convince you of it, till you are no longer agreeing to humor me.” Haurchefant opens the door, shivering at the blast of magically cooled air upon his wet person. “Well, I look forward to the process. One could do far worse than spending an evening convincing a beautiful man of his charms.”

To that, Urianger has no answer. Nor does Haurchefant expect one. He winks and enters the Waking Sands, door closing behind him.

It occurs to him and the rapid beating of his heart, there is a reason he perceives Haurchefant as charming and beguiling and the one who everyone should desire. Projection has not been a key failing of his, but he has fallen prey to it before. And presently, it seems.

And Haurchefant is correct in one thing: there are far worse ways they might spend the evening. Perhaps Urianger shall put his work on hold tonight, to see the knight’s endeavor in full.

[kaydeefalls]

9, 12, 25, 34, and any other you want to answer??

Sweet! Thank you!

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

In TOG, Andy, which is strange for me because she's, you know, the protagonist and stuff. This is not a diss on Andy, who I think is a FANTASTIC character, just one that I can't personally wrap my brain around to write well. The biggest roadblock to me adding more desperately needed Andy/Quynh or Andy/Nile to this fandom is the fact that I cannot get Andy's voice in my head at ALL. No idea why. She's amazing and I love her and I never ever want to write from her POV. (I don't particularly like writing Booker, but not because I find him difficult. He's easy enough to write. I just don't enjoy being in his head.)

For X-Men, Shaw. Fuck that dude. Worst villain ever. Incredibly boring and difficult to write.

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

...oh shit, I have no active WIPs right now and I don't know what to say! I mean, I will damn well finish the Poe/Finn soulmark AU, that IS going to happen even if it kills me. But I feel like the past few months have just been me powering through all the looming deadlines and refusing to indulge in any other fic ideas, and now I'm just about over that hump and my brain is an absolute wasteland. I have a few vague ideas knocking around that I'm hoping will come to fruition, but they're still at the fragile don't-look-at-me stage. So! I am super excited to finish my Festivid this weekend so that I can start thinking about WIPs again!

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them! LOL, all the time! For example, I ABSOLUTELY know what the next plot for The Conspirator's Gift (Charles/Erik medieval mystery AU) verse would be, but I will never write it because no one cares except me, and also the entire thing would unfortunately hinge around the reader not knowing Rogue's mutant power so obviously that wouldn't work so much as a mystery anyway, alas. There are also "scenes I never got around to writing" from various fics that play on loop in my brain, because they just didn't fit in and I knew that before I bothered starting them. So, like, I know exactly how Charles/Erik originally hooked up in Boden's Mate well beyond the fragment actually shown in the flashback (along with BUCKETS of CIA backstory with Inception characters). 

For TOG, there are a number of sections in lessons exquisitely crafted that were not from Nicolò's POV, and therefore his perspective was never explained, but 1. that time they died of thirst like 20 mins from an oasis, only Yusuf actually died, Nicolò just pretended to have as well so that he could save face; 2. Nicolò absolutely had sex with Yusuf's ex-twink on the road to Mecca, and probably had a few other one-night stands over the years but was VERY good at hiding them from Quynh and Andy because he's capable of fucking discretion, thank you very much. I also never found a way to include the conversations Yusuf/Nicolò definitely would have had about all their near misses and weird shared connections over the years apart, but like, they definitely talked all that shit through, and Nicolò told him everything about the meeting with Maryam and her son, and Yusuf cringed his way through the conversation about their mutual twink friend Robert-the-physician.

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of. UGH I'm terrible at picking these things, but this is a kind of silly and overlooked exchange from Travellers from an Antique Land:

"Well, you look damn good for forty," Nile tells her. "Or, you know, three thousand and forty, whatever." Quỳnh laughs at that, the sound bright and sparkling, and it warms something in Nile's chest to have made the boss laugh. "Man, it's weird to think about, though, you know? I'm twenty-six. My body is gonna be twenty-six, forever. I mean, most people would kill to look this good for the rest of their lives, right? But the thought of being a crotchety old lady someday, still stuck in the body of a twenty-something…" Quỳnh regards her thoughtfully. "It's not quite like that. Yes, we grow ancient in our own ways, with the sheer weight of those years of experience. But…" She shrugs. "In another sense, we don't age. Not just in appearance; I mean that our bodies are constantly healing, rejuvenating themselves. It's not that you will always appear to be twenty-six; in a very real way, your body and your mind remain twenty-six. Our brains do not decay with senility. We still learn and adapt with the ease we had at our first deaths. You don't realize," she goes on, somewhat conspiratorially, "how lucky we are that the boys died at the ages they did, and not as younger men. Can you imagine being stuck with twenty-year-old male hormones for the rest of eternity?" This is something Nile genuinely had not considered, and it is absolutely horrifying. "Oh, my God. They would just be fucking all the time." "All the time," Quỳnh agrees, world-weary. "You don't even know. Lykon used to--"

This is kind of a primary thesis I have about how age works for the immortals, though. Like, I find all the takes on how they're grumpy old people in young bodies entertaining, sure, but I genuinely think fundamentally they're not. They are as young as they were when they first died, just with a fuckton more lived experience than your average thirty- or forty-something. Lykon was twenty years old forever with all the godawful hormones that entailed and he would just fuck all the time. This is crucially important information.

[brickstudies]

To Make the World a Home, a Feuilly & Les Amis fanmix for @feuillyweek​ 2020 (Deezer / Spotify)

Tracklist kinda crack-y??? judge for yourself:

1. Five for Fighting – World 2. Silvio Rodríguez – La Era Está Pariendo un Corazón (tr. The era is giving birth to a heart) 3. Big Thief – Forgotten Eyes 4. Nadin Amizah – Kanyaah (tr. Dearest) 5. Tracy Chapman - Talkin’ Bout a Revolution 6. AJJ – People 7. Emmylou Harris – Sweet Old World 8. Sleeping at Last – From the Ground Up 9. Bon Iver – PDLIF 10. White Hinterland – Napoleon at Waterloo 11. Bastille – 4AM 12. John Murphy – Cosette’s Piano (from BBC LM) 13. Banda Neira – Yang Patah Tumbuh Yang Hilang Berganti (tr. What’s broken will regrow, what’s lost will be reborn)

Feuilly was a workingman, a fan-maker, orphaned both of father and mother, who earned with difficulty three francs a day, and had but one thought, to deliver the world.

What kind of world do you want?/Think anything/.../Should there be people or peoples/.../Let every man own his own hand (1)

Feuilly had a generous heart. The range of his embrace was immense. This orphan had adopted the peoples.

The era is giving birth to a heart/And we must run to its side/.../And if necessary, we must burn down the sky/For the sake of any man in the world, for the sake of any home (2)

In the absence of his mother, his thoughts had dwelt on the motherland. He did not want any man on earth to be without a motherland.

The wound has no direction/Everybody needs a home and deserves protection (3)

This poor workingman had constituted himself the tutor of Justice, and she recompensed him by rendering him great.

O, red flower/you call to the weary/you revive them/Like an embrace that permits me/to be more vast and less troubled/Like an embrace that allows me/to be less vast and be troubled (4)

“Listen to me, Feuilly, valiant worker, man of the people, man of the peoples. I revere you. Yes, you clearly behold the future, yes, you are right. You had neither father nor mother, Feuilly; you adopted humanity for your mother and right for your father. You are about to die, that is to say to triumph, here. [...]”

[More under the cut]

...

‘Cause finally the tables are starting to turn/Talkin' bout a revolution (5)

“[...] Citizens, whatever happens today, by our defeat just as much as by our victory, what we are going to achieve is a revolution. As fires light up a whole city, so revolutions give light to the whole human race.”

People are my religion because I believe in them/People are my enemies and people are my friends/I have faith in my fellow men/and I only hope that he has faith in me (6)

Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Jean Prouvaire, Feuilly, Bossuet, Joly, Bahorel, and some others, sought each other out and united as in the most peaceful days of their conversations in their student life, and, in one corner of this wine-shop [...] with their carbines loaded and primed resting against the backs of their chairs, these fine young fellows, so close to a supreme hour, began to recite love verses.

See what you lost when you left this world/This sweet old world/Millions of us in love/Promises made good/ Looking for some truth/.../Dancing with no shoes/The beat, the rhythm, and the blues/The pounding of your heart strong/Together with another one/Didn't you think anyone loved you? (7)

The time, the place, these recollections of youth, a few stars beginning to twinkle in the sky, the deathly quiet of those deserted streets, the imminence of the inexorable drama that was about to unfold lent a pathetic charm to these verses softly murmured in the twilight by Jean Prouvaire, who, as we have said, was a gentle poet.

One by one the knots we’ve tied will come undone/Like picking locks, we’ll sow our seeds beneath the sun/Our accomplice is the rain, with patience, that of saints (8)

Enjolras had advised two hours of sleep. Advice from Enjolras was a command. Still, only three or four took advantage of it.

Feuilly employed these two hours in engraving this inscription on the wall which faced the tavern:

—LONG LIVE THE PEOPLES!

These four words, hollowed out in the rough stone with a nail, could be still read on the wall in 1848.

Please don’t live in fear/We can’t see from here right now/.../I will say there will be a better day/There will be a better day (9)

"Can any one understand," exclaimed Feuilly bitterly, "those men,—[and he cited names, well-known names, even celebrated names, some belonging to the old army]—who had promised to join us, and taken an oath to aid us, and who had pledged their honor to it, and who are our generals, and who abandon us!"

And Combeferre restricted himself to replying with a grave smile.

"There are people who observe the rules of honor as one observes the stars, from a great distance."

As one by one we fall/.../They put their trust in his hands/And a medal on his chest/And the ladies who swoon say/That's the place where his purple heart is/There goes now another man down/There goes now another man down... (10)

*Here, here, my friends and me/You are my familia/.../Four in the morning/we find ourselves here/Best of us passed out/I don’t know who’s where/I got all my old friends and new friends I’ve met once before/In a blanket of smoke as we sink through the floor (11)

[Cosette’s Piano] (12)

(And yet)/what’s broken will regrow, what’s lost will be reborn/ruins will heal/what’s futile bears fruit/these repetitions will someday ceased/and the fallen will take their stands again/What’s broken will regrow, what’s lost will be reborn (13)

[Brick passages are from Donougher and Hapgood; *I’m so sorry]

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ @sasuhinabigflash2020​​ || Day Four: On A Hill ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, blood, death, gun ] [ Verse: Stockades and Stagecoaches ] [ AO3 Link ]

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“YAH!”

Kicking spurs into his mount’s side, Sasuke leans up over the horse’s neck, releasing his reins to better keep hold of his rifle. Hooves thunder against the ground, dry and dusty in the dog days of Summer. Ahead of him, his target is just as desperate to build speed, glancing back over his shoulder to his pursuer.

Just a little closer…

Then with a bang and a whiz, a bullet flies by, followed quickly by more as the fiend draws a pistol, firing nearly blind behind himself in a last ditch effort to ward off his foe.

But Sasuke’s been in far too many fire fights to flinch. Instead, he finally launches a bullet of his own with a cracking report.

It flies true, burying into the man’s back with a cry of agony. For a moment he sits stiff in his saddle before falling to the earth. His own horse keeps running, and Sasuke makes no attempt to stop it. Instead, he brings his to a stop with a hold of the reins and a soft, “whoa”.

Blood pooling in the dirt, the rogue beneath him draws a few more rattling breaths before going still.

Seems he won’t be getting a confession, but in truth he doesn’t need one. All he knows is that this one’s face was on a wanted poster...and when Sasuke decides to take down a bounty, nothing stands in his way.

Dead or alive.

Dismounting, he goes through the man’s pockets, taking anything of note that the dead no longer need. A few dollars, a pocket watch, and a half-empty package of cigarettes. He doesn’t smoke, but he might be able to trade them to someone who does.

Making sure the target’s deceased, Sasuke then hauls him up behind his saddle, tying him down to take in to the sheriff’s office. For good measure, he folds the copy of the poster he took and stuffs it in the man’s pocket to make the last step all the easier.

He then climbs up into his seat, surprised to find the other horse come to a stop not too far off. With a flick of his lasso, he manages to catch it, leading it back toward town. Given his owner no longer has need of it...might as well sell it. He trusts his own mount too much to consider trading, and he doesn’t carry enough to need a pack animal.

The less he can get by on, the easier it is to keep moving.

The ride to town takes him until sunset, curious citizens gawking at the scene. Bounty hunters aren’t exactly rare, but a successful haul - let alone a dead one - still draws gazes.

Clearly about ready to call it a day, the sheriff lounges in a rocking chair along the front of the jail, sitting up as Sasuke approaches. “And what have we here?”

Rather than answer, the Uchiha grabs the body and tosses it on the veranda, whipping out the parchment and presenting it without a word.

“Hm…” With a boot, the sheriff turns the body face-up, comparing the face to the sketch. “Seems right to me. Give me a moment and I’ll fetch your reward, mister…?”

“Uchiha. Sasuke Uchiha.”

“Mister Uchiha.” Giving a nod and stepping over the corpse, the other man disappears for a few minutes before returning with a small wad of bills. “Two hundred and fifty dollars, as advertised. And our little town thanks you for your service. One less varmint runnin’ amok.”

Hand at its brim, Sasuke tips his hat respectfully before remounting. With that money, he can easily afford a room, a bath, and to restock on supplies before heading to the next town to see what work they’d have. But first...a little rest and relaxation for a job well done.

His horse plods easily through town, watching as it begins to button up for the evening. Wives scold late-returning husbands, children are ushered in before it gets dark...and patrons flock to the tavern for its late night lights and spirits.

Tempting, but he’ll want a clear head to travel come morning.

His plan, however, soon runs into a snag. Seems the inn is full.

“There’s a boarding house at the west end a’town,” the innkeep offers. “A bit more spendy, but it should do well for ya. Run by a real nice gal. Sits up on a hill, y’can’t miss it.”

Glancing in the offered direction, Sasuke spies what looks to be the building’s silhouette as the sun sets behind it. Giving his thanks, Sasuke follows the scant directions, finding himself at the base of a three story building. Curious eyes rove over it before lowering to the door. Horse tethered in what is clearly the property’s stable, he walks up and knocks.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually the door opens. And standing within it is a woman of shorter stature and fuller features. But what catches his eyes first are her own: a pale color, almost like subdued lilac.

She in turn looks surprised to see him. And given that he sees no evidence of other guests, Sasuke can guess why. “...evening, sir!” she then greets, flashing a demure smile. “Can I help you…?”

“I was told lodging was offered here?” he asks, glancing up behind her.

“Yes, this’s a boarding house. Are you in need of a room?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Thinking to remove his hat, Sasuke then offers, “Wouldn’t turn down a bath and a meal, either.”

That gets her to softly laugh. “Of course. No offense, but...you look like you brought half the road with you.”

“Oh, er…” Stepping back, he dusts at his garments. “Had a long ride.”

“Most who come through do. If you’d like, I can launder those for you.”

He pauses. “...I’d appreciate that, ma’am.”

“Oh, please - miss Hyūga suits me just fine.” She then opens the door wider, and Sasuke steps in, spurs clinking quietly. “I’ll get that bath started for you. Just leave your things outside the door and I’ll tend to them.”

“Sure it’s not a bother?”

“Not at all. I’m...sure you’ve noticed you’re the only patron at the moment,” she notes with a weary sigh. “So I’ve all the time in the world. If anything, a bit more to do would be nice.”

Still feeling a bit awkward at all the offered hospitality, Sasuke just nods, letting her show him to a room and then the bathroom. She heats the water on the stove, filling the tub and leaving soaps for his use.

Taking in his saddlebags, Sasuke unpacks one of few spare outfits he has, stripping down and leaving what’s soiled outside the door before slipping into the water.

Admittedly...he can’t remember the last time he had a proper bath. Mostly just rinsing off in obliging rivers or rain barrels. So this? This is a treat. And he’s going to be damn sure to enjoy it while he can.

Only once clean and the water cold does he emerge, toweling off and dressing. Upon cracking open the door, he does indeed find what he left behind gone.

Feeling a bit standoffish, he eventually makes his way back downstairs, following the scent of food. And there he finds Hinata setting the dining room table before glancing up to him.

“My, looks like you’ve shed ten pounds from lost dirt alone,” she notes, smiling again as he flashes pink across the tops of his ears and the bridge of his nose. “Forgive me, it’s...been a while since I’ve had a guest. Seems my manners need some dusting off, too.”

“No harm, ma-...er, miss Hyūga.”

“Well, best have your supper before it gets cold.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes, before you arrived. No need to fuss over me, sir. Though that reminds me...I’ve yet to ask your name.”

“Sasuke Uchiha,” he replies upon taking a seat.

“Well, will you be with us long, mister Uchiha?”

“Just until morning.”

For a moment, disappointment flickers over her face, but is soon replaced by another smile. “Well, I’d best make the most of it, then! If you need anything else, just holler. I’ll be finishing up some chores. If you turn in early, I’ll offer a goodnight now.”

Sasuke just nods, watching her leave before taking a bite.

He’ll admit, it’s damn good.

Once his plate is cleared, he peeks into the kitchen, finding it empty and leaving his cutlery by the sink. Part of him wants to inquire after his clothes, but...well, she’s already doing him a favor. No need to appear pushy. Instead, he follows the lamplight up to his room and tucks into bed for the night.

To his honest surprise, rest comes quickly, and he sleeps well past sunup. He must’ve been more tired than he’d thought. Sitting up, he pauses at the sight of folded clothes atop the chest of drawers nearby.

Seems they’re all taken care of.

Redressing, he makes to pack them only to pause. She even mended a tear in his sleeve from a knife fight he won a few nights back.

Fingering the stitches, he mulls that over before putting everything back in its proper place and hauling the saddlebags down to the main floor.

“Miss Hyūga?” he calls, tone a bit muted in the otherwise-empty building. Sounds come from the kitchen, but he doesn’t want to intrude.

“Breakfast is almost ready!” she replies, offering no further explanation. So, in the meantime, he takes out his bags and greets his mount. Seems they’re just as well-rested, bright-eyed and nickering softly.

“Not much longer and we’ll be back on the road,” he assures them softly.

Back inside, he steps in just as his hostess goes bustling past. “One last meal before you head on your way,” she explains with a smile.

“What’ll I owe you?”

“A dollar typically gets you a day.”

“But you’ve -?”

His counter is waved aside, taking her own seat to dine with him. “As I said, the busywork is a blessing itself. It’s been quiet. The mine that saw so many men come through is all but dried up, so...most of my business is past. A little longer, then I’ll likely move back to the city. It was a fun little venture, but all good things come to an end, I’m afraid.”

Having no retort, Sasuke stands for a moment before joining her. They pass with small talk, the Hyūga woman telling of the town, and Sasuke of his choice in work.

“What an adventure it must be,” she offers wistfully, cradling her mug of tea as the meal comes to a close.

“It’s rarely boring,” he agrees dryly. “But not very steady, or comfortable.”

“I can imagine. But comfortable is often just that: boring,” she replies with a soft smile.

“A happy medium isn’t easy to find.”

“Well...maybe you will someday. At least you’ll have some freedom and excitement. I’ll be heading back to my father’s. Comfortable, but...well, it’s not exactly glamorous under his thumb.”

“Oh…?”

“He’s made his fortune in the oil fields,” she replies with a sigh. “So in reality, there’s little need for me to be here, but...I wanted to try and make my own way. But, as usual...I’ll end up right back where I started.”

Sasuke hesitates. “...I see.”

“But it’s nothing to cry over. I’ll make due. But I’ll miss it here. Meeting so many new people, hearing other stories…”

“Are you...running dry on funds?”

“Yes and no. I could keep pouring money into it, but...there’s just no point, now. Not with no one to pander to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be. It was fun while it lasted. I’ll survive. I’m just thankful I got the opportunity.”

With that, the conversation mostly dries up, and Sasuke finds he has no real reason to linger. The sooner he leaves, the sooner he’ll reach the next town, and his next bounty.

...but part of him is sad to go.

Hinata tidies up after them, walking out to the porch as he mounts up.

“Thank you very much for your hospitality, miss Hyūga,” he offers genuinely.

“Thank you for the business. But more so the company,” she replies, smiling.

“So...where’s home, if not here?”

“My father has a home in the capital. I’ll return there in a few weeks, likely to just get married off. But...I suppose that’s not a bad thing.”

For some reason, his chest tightens...but he offers no retort.

“If you ever find yourself in the big city, maybe we’ll cross paths again,” she then adds, regaining his gaze.

“...maybe. Probably plenty of crime in the city.”

“Where men go, evil follows.”

HIs lips twitch before giving a polite dip of his head. “Miss Hyūga.”

“Safe travels,” she replies, waving as he makes for the town center. Time to stock up, and hit the trail.

...who knows. Maybe sooner or later it’ll lead to the big city.

     Oookay it’s late so I’ma be brief xD      Wild west AU cuz...reasons. While not really a fan of the genre overall, I do live really rural, so...it’s kinda ingrained into me lol. I’ve written one other piece in it but that was for another ship in another event I hosted last year. I’m no expert by any means xD      I doubt I’ll do more but I guess it depends on where the prompt list takes me, and I guess what you guys think? Buuut for now I’m gonna go sleep - thanks for reading!

[standonscripture]

TRINITY DEBUNKED!

God Is Not A Trinity

- - - - God will prove those a liar for adding to his words. Proverbs 30:6 -  Add thou not unto his words, lest he reprove thee, and thou be found a liar. ------- God The Father is His Spirit and His Word is in him. - 4

John 4:23-24 - 23But a time is coming and has now come when the TRUE worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth, for the Father is seeking such as these to worship Him. 24God is Spirit, and His worshipers must worship Him in spirit and in truth.”… (clearly God is his spirit for both God who is Spirit is worshiped the same way as the Father who seeks such as these to Worship HIM.)

1 Corinthians 2:11 - 11For who among men knows the thoughts of man except his own spirit within him? So too, no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God.

John 14:10 - 10 Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in Me? The words I say to you, I do not speak on My own. Instead, it is the Father dwelling in Me, performing His works. (The Father is in Yeshua because it is The Father's Spirit which is in Yeshua and Yeshua is the Word which is in the Father hence The Father and I are one, the Father is in me and I in the father.)

Psalm 144:10-11 - 10 Teach me to do thy will; for thou art my God: thy spirit is good; lead me into the land of uprightness. 11 Quicken me, O Lord, for thy name's sake: for thy righteousness' sake bring my soul out of trouble. (You are my God YOUR SPIRIT not a separate person who is a Spirit Your Spirit is Good.)

------- SINGULAR GOD ALONE / NON OTHER --- 12 VERSES

Deuteronomy 32:12 - So the Lord alone did lead him, and there was no strange god with him. (in other translations in Israel Bible it says: Yehovah alone did guide him "alone means by himself no other" NO alien god at his side.  So Yehovah is clearly the Father alone and it is he who guides us not 3 in 1.)

Deuteronomy 32:39 - 39 See now that I, even I, am he, and there is no god with me: I kill, and I make alive; I wound, and I heal: neither is there any that can deliver out of my hand. (clearly God is singular he said I AM HE there is no GOD WITH ME now if Yeshua is God and the Father is God but the Father said there is no God with me that means no other persons are God but him and even Yeshua called the Father God and never claimed as a human to be God but Son of God)

Isaiah 40:28 - 28 Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is no searching of his understanding. (God the Lord is CREATOR singular not creators which would show God is one person not 2 or 3 in one.)

Isaiah 42:8 - 8 I am the Lord: that is my name: and my glory will I not give to another, neither my praise to graven images. (I singular, that is my singular name, and my singular glory will I singular not give to another so no other person will have his glory, neither my singular praise to graven images Idols but Christians bow before the cross.)

Isaiah 48:11 - 11 For mine own sake, even for mine own sake, will I do it: for how should my name be polluted? and I will not give my glory unto another. (Notice again for Mine own sake singular mine, I will do it not we, for how should MY singular name be poluted, I singular will not give my Glory unto ANOTHER which means to make a plural God another meaning other than himself.)

Isaiah 54:5 - 5 For thy Maker is thine husband; the Lord of hosts is his name; and thy Redeemer the Holy One of Israel; The God of the whole earth shall he be called. (I mean singular Maker, Singular Husband, Yehovah "the lord of hosts" is HIS name Singular.  Your Redeemer the HOLY ONE singular, God singular of whole earth.)

Isaiah 66:18 - 18 For I know their works and their thoughts: it shall come, that I will gather all nations and tongues; and they shall come, and see my glory. (Clearly this shows singular for I know their works, goes on I will gather singular My Glory singular.)

Jeremiah 3:14 - 14 Turn, O backsliding children, saith the Lord; for I am married unto you: and I will take you one of a city, and two of a family, and I will bring you to Zion: (for I singular am married to you, and I singular take you one of a city... and I will bring you to zion all singular)

Psalm 86:10 - 10 For thou art great, and doest wondrous things: thou art God alone. (You are God alone, self explanitory that God is alone singular God.)

Psalm 97:6-7 - 6 The heavens declare his righteousness, and all the people see his glory. 7 Confounded be all they that serve graven images, that boast themselves of idols: worship him, all ye gods. (So we see that many singular god(s) make gods plural but here we see God is spoke of as His glory, and it says these people are confounded by all their graven images, and all these gods worship HIM singular.)

Psalm 148:13 - Let them praise the name of the Lord: for his name alone is excellent; his glory is above the earth and heaven. (His name alone notice God his name Yehovah the Father he alone his name alone.)

Nehimiah 9:6 - 6 Thou, even thou, art Lord alone; thou hast made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host, the earth, and all things that are therein, the seas, and all that is therein, and thou preservest them all; and the host of heaven worshippeth thee. (You ALONE are GOD or even you Are LORD alone... Singular... You singular made all these things... These whole things all the Host worship YOU a singular not they worship them or you all or these three but simply you.) ----------------------- THE ANGEL / AN ANGEL of the Lord. - In The Israel Bible in Genesis 16:7 of The Israel Bible it says (An ANGEL then that AN Angel becomes THE ANGEL in verse 9 because The Angel is an Angel picked by God to carry the message from him to man.)  - Further more at verse 12 in NIV which is verse 11 in Hebrew Israel Bible it says "FOR YEHOVAH or THE LORD" has paid heed, if the Angel of the Lord is the Lord which makes no sense then he would say For I have paid heed to your suffering or For I am Yehovah I have heard your suffering but clearly it is not God but a messenger of Yehovah. - Again in Genesis 22:11 - it says in the Hebrew Israel Bible An angel of The Lord then in verse 15 it becomes the Angel because it is like I am saying An Elderly man spoke to me and THE Elderly man said... its usage of the vocabulary.  The Angel or Messenger Malak of Yehovah can not be Yehovah its a messenger of him bringing his message to us.  the He that is HIS message is God the Malak is simply an angel or a messenger that becomes the Angel/Messenger by specificially being picked for a job. (the definition of Malak is = A MESSENGER) NASB Translation = Ambassadors, Angel, Angels, Envoys, Messenger, Messengers, (According to the lexicon on Biblehub the Malach "A Messenger" of Yehovah called out so this is A Messenger and it is The Messenger when talking about being sent for a specific person A becomes the in linguistics.)

------------------------- FEASTS STILL STAND / MEATS - 2 verse

Zechariah 14:16 - And it shall come to pass, that every one that is left of all the nations which came against Jerusalem shall even go up from year to year to worship the King, the Lord of hosts, and to keep the feast of tabernacles. (This is a future prophecy that in God's Kingdom we will still be keeping the Feast of Sukkot/Tabernacles.  So why would God have the feasts in the Tenakh but then after Jesus died say Gentiles aparantly don't have to keep the Feasts but in this Prophecy talking of the Kingdom every nation will keep it, it seems in all kindness teh Christian God is skitsophrenic changing his mind.)

Colossians 2:16-22 - 16 Therefore do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration or a Sabbath day. 17 These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ. 18 Do not let anyone who delights in false humility and the worship of angels disqualify you. Such a person also goes into great detail about what they have seen; they are puffed up with idle notions by their unspiritual mind. 19 They have lost connection with the head, from whom the whole body, supported and held together by its ligaments and sinews, grows as God causes it to grow.  20 Since you died with Christ to the elemental spiritual forces of this world, why, as though you still belonged to the world, do you submit to its rules: 21 “Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!”? 22 These rules, which have to do with things that are all destined to perish with use, are based on merely human commands and teachings. (It is clear to me that this is not talking about believers judging you of feasts or feasts being done away or meats but it is clearly talking about the pagans who worshiped angels and other false gods who are not Of God Yehovah taking them from the true God so these "gentiles" in God did Gods feasts just like Paul who said be like me.) --- Galatians 4:11-12 - 11I fear for you, that my efforts for you may have been in vain. 12I beg you, brothers, become like me, for I became like you. You have done me no wrong.

[dailyaudiobible]

04/14/2021 DAB Transcript

Joshua 9:3-10:43, Luke 16:19-17:10, Psalms 83:1-18, Proverbs 13:4

Today is the 14th day of April welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is wonderful to be here with you today as we continue our journey forward into the beautiful springtime. Of course, I know we are all over the world. So, those of you in the southern…southern hemisphere are experiencing autumn coming on. How weird is that? But whether it is a springtime fire or a autumn…an autumn fire it's a Global Campfire that we are around and we can come around it no matter where we are. And, so, let's dive in and take the next step forward. We’re in the book of Joshua in the Old Testament. There have been two cities in the promised land that have been conquered. The rest of the land is not conquered. The people of Israel are in the land and everyone that is there is freaking out. And we left the story yesterday with the kings of the region trying to form an alliance and band together all of their armies to come against Israel and…yeah…push them back out of the land. So, we’re reading from the New English Translation this week. Joshua chapter 9 verse 3 through 10 verse 43.

Commentary:

Okay. So, as we pass through the middle of our work week, we could talk about our work habits. Straight out of the Proverbs today, “the appetite of the sluggard craves but gets nothing.” So, a sluggard is…is…is laziness, the kind of unmotivated, right? Kind of like I just can’t get myself going, I’m just gonna sit here and watch some more TV or whatever, can't really get it going. So, that person still craves accomplishment or achievement or whatever. A person that has a craving to see something achieved or that they would like to do. Like you can be a sluggard and still be a dreamer, but the dream won't be achieved. You can crave by the appetite of the sluggard craves but gets nothing. “The desire”, this is how the proverb ends, “the desire of the diligent will be abundantly satisfied.” In other words, the one who this craving, this desire to achieve or to accomplish or to do something, if they will be diligent step-by-step day by day, they will be abundantly satisfied. I could say what we’re doing here moving through the Scriptures is a is a good example of that. If we show up every day, day by day step-by-step and we are diligent we will achieve what we set out to do, which was move through a year of life together in the Scriptures as a community. If we’re diligent we will be abundantly satisfied in achieving that goal. Or we can be like many who have a craving, a desire to read the Bible, to see what actually is in the Bible, what it actually says, but don't really get past a couple of days in this area. Then the appetite of the sluggard craves but gets nothing. So, what can we say then? We can say that you can desire or crave all you like. If you're not willing to motivate yourself and be diligent it will never be anything but a craving or a desire. But if you are willing to be diligent you will be abundantly satisfied.

Prayer:

Father we take that to heart. It goes to our motives. It goes to our motivation and sometimes we have to take control over that. Sometimes we have to tell ourselves using self-discipline that You are getting up off the couch right now and You are going to be diligent in taking the next step forward toward what it is You desire. Help our desires to line up with Your will for our lives and help us Holy Spirit to be motivated, that we not be weary in well doing, but that we not be a sluggard when we need to be doing. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com, that's home base, that’s the websites, that’s where you find out what's going on around here and how to get connected and stay connected.

And resources that are available for the journey we are on. So, the resources can be found in the Daily Audio Bible Shop.

And getting connected and staying connected can be found in the Community section of the website where the Prayer Wall lives. So, certainly, check that out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, if…if the mission that is the Global Campfire, the mission to bring the spoken word of God read fresh every day and released out into the world for anyone who will listen to it anywhere on this planet any time of day or night and to build community around that rhythm, the day by day step-by-step journey that we are on together so that we know we’re not alone, not…not…not on our journey through the Bible and not in life. We’re not alone. You have brothers and sisters all over the world going through all the same kinds of things that we go through. And that makes a big difference, to know that there are people out there that care and that are facing it just like we are. So, if that brings life and light and hope and good news into…into your world than thank you for your partnership. There’s a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you’re using the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner, or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, the little red button up at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi Brian, hi DAB family this is Emily in Seattle I haven't touched back in a while, but I have a prayer request. And I'm usually pretty shy about needing those but I've got one now. My dad is 94 God love him and he's not doing too good. So, if you could pray for him, I'd appreciate it. Then pray for my brother Mike, I've mentioned him before. He's pretty sad because he's not close to Jesus like we are. And he's pretty sad because he thinks when someone dies that they end up __. I think everyone in my family’s saved but it's just me and my husband who are close to Jesus. And, so, that's kind of a bummer but pray for everlasting life for my family, salvation for those who don't have salvation yet and that this will be a blessing and not a curse. And I guess that's it. I'm losing it here. So, __ my mom Roberta, my dad Charlie, my brother Mike, and me of course too. Praise God. Bye.

Hi __ this is __Selena I’ve been recently been all over the Prayer Wall and I'm going to continue to be all over the Prayer Wall. I'm praying for you guys and just lifting you all up to the Lord. In my case my boyfriend left me for another woman, and I've just been going through it. But in all of that the Lord has completely freed me of sin. It's just a really hard time. But I am sleeping at night. There's one positive and I’m learning about laying it down for the Lord, laying my sorrows down. So, if I could just please have prayer just for joy, for quick healing. I just want to be back to normal but in God's time. I thank you all and I love you all very much. I'm always praying every day. I put down my social media I put down my Xbox I put down…I’m throwing away the wolves and just taking God and you and I want to hear all of your prayers, requests. In…in your sorrow please know I am behind the scenes fighting for you in the name of God. I love you guys. Bye.

Yes…I know a boy…I don't really know him. His name is Titus, and he is dying and he’s 7 and I would like to pray for him. Dear Jesus, __ I pray that you will make it not so scary to Titus that he's dying and make his family not so sad. And in Your name. Amen.

James the Teacher in LA I was so glad to hear your voice after such a long time but I'm really sad that your wife is asking for a divorce. James, I'll be praying for you. I pray that the Lord turn her heart around and even as you’re going through this difficulty remember how years ago you prayed, you trusted God for a child and God provided that child. And you've even prayed for your students and you saw how God worked in the life of your students. James, I want you to just take a moment and think back of God's goodness to you in those past years. And as you go through this struggle be encouraged that He's able to do above all that you could ask and could desire. If you need to get counseling with your wife, I would suggest you get some counseling with her and the two of you together with God worked this out. I'm praying for you and I'm trusting God on your behalf. Just continue…continue to trust Him and see Him work mightily in this situation. Just praise God for you in Jesus’ name. Randolph from Toronto.

Hi DAB family my name is Ashley and I'm from California and I want to share a little of encouragement. So, first I just want to read you Psalm 13 verses 5 through 6. But I trust in Your unfailing love. I will rejoice because You have rescued me. I will sing to the Lord because He is good to me. I want to share that this is a special time in my life, this time of year, because I remember God's goodness. He changed my life in a matter of a week, and He led me down the path of a new career and revealed that I was pregnant with my son and He took away people that I thought were supposed to be in my life. But He saved me. He rescued me and I constantly thank Him for that, and I just want to encourage anybody out there who may be going through a hard time and it may be confusing. I even have to preach this to myself, but I just want you to know that in the midst of chaos, in the midst of suffering God is doing a work no matter how you're feeling…how you're feeling He is working. He is working. He loves us. He has a plan, and His ways are better than our ways. And He will always provide and always take care of you. So, if you're having a hard time right now, I just want to let you know. I love you DAB family and Brian and China and Jill and…and the whole family I’m so grateful for you. So, I have a blessed rest of your day. Today is April 9th 2021. Take care everybody.

[sasha-whos-askin-racket]

WEST END FALSETTOS WAS SO GOOD.

Don’t ask me which kid it was playing Jason. I think his name was Albert (Yeah it’s Albert Atack). He was amazing. Anyway here’s like cool details and things I liked and stuff.

- The floor pattern was a chessboard.

- The decision to not have Jason come on stage until the line “we got our miracle” was interesting.

- The decision to keep Whizzer on stage constantly after Days Like These and have him die onstage in the opening instrumental of Falsettoland Reprise was infinitely more heartbreaking.

- I want to marry the blocking from What More Can I Say. Soft sleepy Whizzer in his little armchair with his reading glasses and his book and Marvin also being soft over him is my life.

- OLIVER IS SUCH A GOOD WHIZZER.

- The fact that he collapsed backwards during More Racquetball? Andrew Rannels could never.

- Whoever made the decision to have Oliver be shirtless for the start of This Had Better Come To A Stop? A god.

- The fact that it wasn’t Marvin as a “homosexual father with children” but rather Whizzer as a “homosexual” and Marvin as a “father with children.”

- Jason’s “so do I” in Making A Home was because the dog had chewed through the corner of his chessboard.

- Marvin Hits Trina was intense because Jason starts crying and throws himself at Trina and Mendel drags Marvin away and Whizzer turns his head like he can’t bear to watch it.

- Before today, I had never cried at You Gotta Die Sometime, so THANKS OLIVER.

- Mendels cartwheel in Everyone Hates His Parents was flawless.

- They changed “wiry psychiatrist” to “weary psychiatrist”.

- There was different verse to I’m Breaking Down that I didn’t recognise.

- They took the “tell him things happen for no damn good reason, and his lack of control” verse out of Cancelling The Bar Mitzvah.

- They gave Whizzers line of “psychiatrist returning” to Mendel, which is fairs I guess.

- Marvin only moving across the stage one square at a time during The Chess Game while Whizzer just sort of stood whereever he wanted. Sometimes with each foot on a seperate square, sometimes both feet on the join between one.

- Whizzer watching Marvin move around the stage in pawn formation and then looking at the floor and going “Oh, it’s a chessboard, that’s very funny”

- Whizzer grabbing Marvin by the shoulders and pushing him back onto a square like a chess piece when he started to relax and stand more like how Whizzer was.

- March of the Falsettos was played out like Trina’s dream sequence. It was actually really amazing.

- The fact the kid playing Jason went from being furious in the line “hell, lets have a party. Just like nothing happened” to full on sobbing in the line “why don’t you make this dumb decision yourselves.”

- The height difference between Whizzer and Marvin was like a full head and then some. Fucking perfect.

- Marvin is played by a gay man - not sure about the guy playing Whizzer.

- The comedic timing of “Would he kill you?” “...Yes.” was spot on.

- “Sometimes smarmy?” The light shines on Whizzer who is stood on a raised platform in a photoframe. He leans forward and goes “um, excuse me?” and then carries on with the song.

- Marvin looking up at Whizzer during “He loves another.” “I agree.”

- Whizzer putting on a baseball cap and miming pitching in the line “the pitchers handsome.”

- They put up like projections of old Greek-ish paintings and statues and stuff during the line “explore museums” and Marvin basically is supposed to miss his line because he’s too busy staring at them all.

- During Whizzer and Jason’s conversation about Jason going to see a psychiatrist, it’s Trina that kicks Whizzer to get him to agree.

- “Don’t start to cry.” “I’m not.” *Mendel bursts into tears.*

- Mendel, frantically pointing at Marvin “forget that giant man!”

- “Whizzer has unlimited knowledge of-“ *marvin crosses to the wardrobe and tugs on the sleeve of Whizzers shirts that are hanging up* “-dreck.”

- Okay Marvin yanking Whizzers shirts off the hangers and shoving them into the bag before just throwing the bag at him was heartbreaking.

- The lesbians got SUCH a big cheer! It was great.

- In More Racquetball, Whizzer didn’t even make an effort to play, he just kind of lunged forwards on the spot and then stopped.

- His line was “Marvin, I’m ready to go” and it sounded so much like a plea.

- After he collapsed he curled into Marvin and was crying into his shoulder and trying to apologise and like holy fuck dude.

- The first time I heard people crying in the audience was during Another Miracle of Judaism.

- By the time it got to What Would I Do, you actually couldn’t hear the actors singing in places because there was so many people in the audience sobbing. Like not just crying, actual sobbing.

[iamanartichoke]

This started out cute and turned angsty - in other words, classic Charlotte. I’ve left a lot of the logistics vague on purpose so the setting and ship potential is entirely up to you. The only thing I can say is that it’s not in the Sanctuary ‘verse. Also, sorry this took me like six months to fill but, if you’re still around, anon, thank you for the compliment and I hope you like this!

Word Count: 2406

“Should we wake him?” Valkyrie whispers.

Thor shakes his head. He’s already reaching into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. “He doesn’t sleep enough,” he replies as he checks to make sure the sound on his phone is off. The last thing he wants is for the camera shutter to audibly click. “He needs the rest.”

“Apparently. You think he just collapsed, or was this a deliberate choice?” Valkyrie wonders aloud.

“Probably a combination of both.” Thor angles the phone just so, the camera focusing on Loki’s adorably relaxed features. He presses the button to take several shots in a row and then he grins at Valkyrie. “Blackmail,” he adds, tucking the phone away.

“You’re such a big brother,” Valkyrie says with an eyeroll. She smacks his bicep.

“Yeah,” Thor agrees. Then he puts his fingers to his lips, which earns him another eyeroll. “Come on, before he wakes up.”

Valkyrie casts one more look at Loki, who is curled up underneath his desk, head resting against the drawers on the right side, arms folded tightly. “Give me your jacket,” she says, tugging on Thor’s elbow.

“What?”

“He looks cold,” she explains. “Don’t you think?”

“Loki’s never cold,” Thor responds but he shrugs out of his denim jacket anyway. He hands it to Valkyrie, who kneels down just enough to place the jacket over Loki’s body, carefully tucking it around his shoulders. Loki doesn’t even stir.

“That’s worth another picture, I think,” Thor says.

* * *

Two weeks pass and Thor nearly trips over Loki as he leaves his study. “Son of a -” Thor grouses, but he cuts himself off when he realizes that Loki has fallen asleep sitting up. He’s leaning against the wall in the hallway just outside of Thor’s study, legs outstretched, arms folded. His head has lolled enough to the left that his dark curls are partially curtaining his face.

Thor shakes his head. He considers pulling out his camera, but decides not to. He considers waking Loki, but Loki really doesn’t sleep enough. Besides, he looks so peaceful. What Thor can see of his face is relaxed, lips slightly parted, his breathing even and deep. Sleep takes a hundred years from his features, Thor thinks; it erases the worry lines around Loki’s eyes and mouth. Poor Loki.

They were supposed to meet for dinner, Thor remembers. It is unlike Loki to wait outside in the hall rather than barge into Thor’s study precisely at their agreed-upon time. Thor wonders if he should be worried about that.

Instead of dwelling on it, Thor lowers himself down to the floor next to Loki. He sits down close, angling himself so that he can catch Loki’s lolling head on his own shoulder. “Let’s sit awhile,” he says softly, stretching his legs out alongside Loki’s while he listens to Loki breathing.

* * *

“I think Loki is ill,” Thor says to Valkyrie, a week later. They are sitting together at the dining room table, finishing up lunch.

“What makes you think that?” she asks, lowering her whiskey bottle.

“Look at him.” Thor nods in the direction of the den, where Loki is stretched out on the couch, fast asleep.

“Looks normal to me,” Valkyrie says, after craning her head around to peek at Loki. She takes a large swallow of her drink. “Seems like he prefers sleeping in the daytime, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s the point. I hear him at night,” Thor admits. “Pacing around in his room, in the hallways. Talking to himself.” He’s heard Loki wake himself up with screams, too, though he keeps that to himself. “He’s not sleeping normally.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s ill, though,” Valkyrie points out. “Have you asked him about it?”

Thor snorts and shakes his head. “I know what he’d say: leave me alone, Thor, I’m fine.” Thor’s voice dips effortlessly into an imitation of the  just-this-side-of-irritated tone Loki often takes with Thor. “He acts like it’s a crime to care about him.”

“Mm. Well.” Valkyrie sets her bottle down and leans back in her chair. “We can keep an eye on him, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Thor blows out his breath and casts another look in Loki’s direction. “Let’s do that.”

* * *

A month goes by before Thor finds Loki asleep again. This time, he goes looking for Loki because Loki was supposed to have met with Tony, only he hadn’t shown up. It was just as probable that Loki had simply ignored the meeting, but Thor worried that it was more than that.

Sure enough, he scours the house until he comes upon Loki in the bathtub. Not taking a bath - the bathtub is empty and Loki is completely clothed. He has the shower curtain drawn and the lights off; the only reason Thor finds him is because there is the very soft sound of snoring that catches Thor’s ear.

“Loki, what the hell,” he says when he finds his brother. He is torn between exasperation, worry, and a flicker of amusement. The bathtub, really?  “Loki!”

Loki stirs a little and lifts a hand, waving it tiredly at Thor. “Go away,” he says, without opening his eyes.

“Did you forget about Tony?” Thor asks. “Why are you in the bathtub?”

Loki barely lifts his shoulders. “It’s comfortable.”

Thor rolls his eyes. “You’re so weird.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, because this is even better than Loki sleeping under his desk, and Loki still hasn’t opened his eyes. Thor snaps a couple of photos and then says, “Come on, I’ll make you some coffee.”

“I hate coffee.”

“No one hates coffee.”

“I do. I love tea. It’s like you’ve never even met me before.” Loki drapes an arm over his eyes. “Go away.”

“You don’t love tea,” Thor corrects. He pushes a hand through his hair and then sighs, perching on the edge of the bathtub. “You like it better than coffee, but you don’t love it. You love hot chocolate, but there’s no caffeine in that and the sugar’ll just make you sleepier.”

“Okay, so you have met me,” Loki concedes. “I do love hot chocolate.”

“With marshmallows.”

“Mm, yes. Can I have some?” Loki lowers his arm and finally opens his eyes. He blinks up at Thor slowly, tiredly. “Please?”

“I’m not serving it to you in the bathtub,” Thor replies.

“Spoilsport.” Loki sighs and rubs his eyes, and then yawns widely. He looks like a tired kitten, Thor thinks, with hazy eyes and sharp teeth. Thor would try to snap another picture if he thought he could still get away with it. “Okay, fine. I’m getting up.”

Thor stands and reaches out a hand to Loki. It speaks to Loki’s exhaustion that he takes it immediately, allowing Thor to pull him up. “We’re going to have to reschedule Tony,” is all he says.

“Yeah, yeah. I think the world will keep on spinning,” Loki returns with a grin.

* * *

Thor, Loki, and Valkyrie are in the den, the lights dimmed as a movie plays on the television. It’s some kind of action film that Tony had recommended, but Thor has lost track of the plot. He isn’t even sure a plot ever existed. Just a lot of explosions.

He’s been fixated on the sight of Loki and Valkyrie on the couch. Rather, he’s fixated on how relaxed and pliant Loki is. His head is resting on Valkyrie’s thigh and she’s absently running her fingers through Loki’s dark curls. In his armchair, Thor feels a strange combination of loneliness and jealousy. He didn’t even think Valkyrie and Loki liked each other very much.

Valkyrie catches Thor’s eye and she lifts an eyebrow as if to say, what?

Thor nods in the direction of Loki’s head in reply.

Valkyrie rolls her eyes. “He’s sleeping,” she whispers and, when Thor double-checks, he notices that Loki’s eyes, indeed, have drifted closed.

“Since when are you so touchy-feely with my brother?” Thor whispers back.

“He has nice hair,” is Valkyrie’s reply.

Thor makes a face at her. He doesn’t like this development, and he doesn’t know why. Loki does look peaceful, though, and it’s late enough in the evening that perhaps Loki will sleep through the entire night. Thor decides to let it go. He turns his attention back to the movie, but every so often, his gaze drifts back over to the tableau on the couch and he feels the faintest twist in his gut.

* * *

Thor is not sleeping so well these days. Twice in the last two weeks, he’s been woken up by Loki screaming. Both times, Thor got out of bed and went to Loki’s door, but he lost his nerve when it came time to knock. He doesn’t know why.

Most nights, though, it isn’t the screaming that wakes Thor. It’s the sound of Loki’s footsteps through the walls, in the hallway, Loki’s soft voice as he mutters to himself pulling Thor into consciousness. Thor worries more than he sleeps. In the mornings, Loki looks disheveled and bone-weary.

“You don’t look so great, either,” Valkyrie points out, when Thor mentions this to her.

“That isn’t the point,” Thor says.

“Thor, just talk to him.” Valkyrie’s patience seems to have worn thin. “Figure out what’s wrong. Clearly, it’s something.”

“He won’t tell me,” Thor insists.

“You haven’t even tried,” Valkyrie snaps.

Thor has to admit that she’s right. What is he afraid of? Being rebuffed, certainly, but Thor’s spent his entire life being mindful of (and reacting to) Loki’s mood swings. Getting snapped at is not the end of the world. It’s more than that, Thor thinks. It has to be.

The opportunity comes when he finds Loki curled up in an impossibly small ball underneath Thor’s bed. It is again Loki’s snoring that gives him away - soft, even, hardly a bother yet noticeable in the silence - or else he might have slept there forever and Thor never would have noticed.

When he peeks underneath the bed and he realizes what he’s seeing, he starts to laugh and wants to cry at the same time. “Loki,” he whispers as he stretches out on the floor beside the bed. He reaches one arm under the bed and pokes at Loki’s ribs. “Loki.”

Loki flinches awake, jerks upright, and promptly slams his head into the underside of Thor’s bed. “Ow,” he yelps. “Goddamn it, Thor.”

“Goddamn it, Thor?” Thor repeats incredulously. “Goddamn it, Loki! What are you even doing under there?”

Loki averts his gaze. He stretches out as much as his limbs will allow, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. “It’s comfortable.”

“That’s what you said about the bathtub.” Thor hesitates and then reaches into his pocket for his cell phone. He opens his camera and flips to the pictures he’s been taking of Loki’s various napping spots, and then shows Loki the screen. “This is starting to get weird, even for you.”

Loki scowls ferociously when he sees the images of himself. “You took pictures of me?” He swipes for the phone, but Thor pulls it away. “Delete them this instant.”

“No. I like them.” Thor neglects to mention that his original intent had been blackmail. It seems silly now. He hides the phone away again. “But this random napping is weird, Loki. What’s going on?”

“Naps aren’t weird,” Loki protests.

“Yeah, but underneath my bed?” Thor lifts his eyebrows and then, since he’s come this far, takes a deep breath and presses on. “I know it’s more than naps. I hear you at night, wandering around, pacing. I know you have nightmares.”

“Shut up,” Loki growls. He presses his cheek to the hardwood floor. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know you’re scared,” Thor continues. “I just don’t know what you’re scared of.”

Several tense beats pass. Thor stares at Loki, watching the way the shadows throw Loki’s features into sharp relief. It occurs to Thor that when he looks at the pictures of Loki asleep, he likes them because he never gets to see that soft tranquility grace Loki’s face. When he is sleeping, there’s an innocence about him that Thor thought lost long ago.

In Loki’s waking moments, that innocence is nowhere to be found. Awake, Loki is perpetually on the defensive; time and pain and loss and grief have chiseled his features to stone. He doesn’t relax even for a second. He is cracked glass - sleek and cold, impenetrable on the surface yet always waiting for the one wrong tap that would shatter him to pieces.

Thor feels an enormous sadness wash over him. Maybe this realization - confronting how wrecked Loki truly is - is what has scared Thor away from pushing too hard. He doesn’t want to shatter the glass - yet, silence is its own weight pressing on the crack. Given enough time, the glass might implode anyway.  

“Please, Loki,” Thor murmurs. “Tell me.”

Loki’s green eyes glint sharply, and then suddenly it is as if all of the fight drains from him at once. He closes his eyes and exhales a breath. “At night, when I sleep in my own bed …” he begins, “I feel … exposed. Defenseless. Each night, I tell myself this is the night I’ll feel safe. It never is. And I’m tired, Thor. Really goddamn tired.”

“You feel safe in small spaces,” Thor guesses.

Loki nods, meeting Thor’s gaze head on. “Yeah. In small spaces. Or near you ... or Val.”

Val? Thor thinks, but lets the comment pass. “You can’t keep this up forever, you know,” he says. “Sooner or later, you’re going to have to deal with it. Really deal with it, you know?”

“Yeah.” Loki sighs.

“I’ll help,” Thor offers. “If you want.”

“How?”

Thor doesn’t know. He still doesn’t know what happened to Loki to make him so frightened; he can’t fight the demons he can’t identify. He can try, though; maybe if he tries hard, Loki will trust him enough to tell him the truth, and they can fight the demons together.

For now, he simply offers a tiny smile and reaches under the bed, feeling for Loki’s hand in the dark. “I can start by getting you out of there,” he says.

Loki looks wary. He looks exhausted. But mostly, he looks at Thor with something resembling the old hero worship. It’s faint - just a glimmer behind the eyes, like something long buried starting to stir and come back to life.

“All right,” Loki says finally as he accepts Thor’s hand.