#but didn’t have the faith in myself to draw all those hands

[hitinmiss]

~Where he waits for them~

KH4 more like Dream Drop Distance 2 I’m manifesting it

[bloogers-boogers]

~Marriage au~ (part two)

So, I was drawing this post when the idea strikes me kabdksdhsls and now it’s a thing.

We all know the whole idea of Adam becoming a sinner, well that’s basically the start of the story. He becomes a sinner, he gets in the hotel, he manages to make a deal with Lucifer in exchange of his soul, BUT, that’s like way after. Why? Because in this au Adam soul was trapped to some random overlord, no, it’s not Alastor, Vox or Valentino. It’s somebody else just as powerful. The whole reason Adam gave his soul to him wasn’t outta free will, it was because this demon in peculiar has this ability to make people do things they don’t want to do (hypnosis?? Idk similar to Vox ig), which Adam was a victim of. He made Adam “willingly” exchange his soul for an offer. This was before he managed to get to the hotel. So now he’s trapped to this guy.

The only ones who can see Adam being chained are demons that are also on a leash that includes Alastor. And this is how Lucifer found out about it because he overheard Alastor taunt Adam about it with very subtle words but Lucifer caught on immediately.

Which is where the plot begins.

Lucifer takes Adam aside and starts making a huge deal about it which Adam refused to admit it was even true.

Somehow in the long run Lucifer managed to get Adam to blurt out the truth after many attempts to gain his trust or at least make Adam accept his help (didn’t take long tbh, kinda like 2 hours after the confrontation).

So they both went to talk to the demon who owned Adam and Lucifer wasn’t planning on leaving there until he managed to have Adam’s soul free. The bad thing was that this overlord was quite power hungry and the fact that the KING of hell seemed desperate for this soul alone was an opportunity he couldn’t let down (he kinda figured being the first man his soul would be priceless in comparison to other sinners which is why he caught him in the first place but he wouldn’t have guessed that King Morningstar would want it after the battle they had it was shown those two didn’t get along.) but anyways.

So he offered Adam’s soul for the exchange of Lucifer giving up on the throne which was laughable. Lucifer denied, obviously, and Adam just kinda accepted defeat. But Lucifer didn’t give up on that, they tried other methods from ancient scrolls to old rituals but nothing worked to set Adam’s soul free. Lucifer didn’t want to resort to this but he had no other choice by the looks of it. A soul contract is a very powerful thing which is why it’s almost unbreakable, but he was the king of hell. He had an immense power that COULD break a soul contract. But thats only if…

Adam spiritually gives himself to Lucifer in marriage in a holy union. Aka upon the eyes of God.

Which of course this is beyond breaking everything Lucifer stands for and his pride.

So this is where their deal commenced.

“Adam I will set you free, I will put my faith in God again to break that contract, my union with Lilith; everything I fought so hard to keep. I will sacrifice it all, myself, just for you to receive freedom again. But the only thing I ask for in exchange is your soul.”

“Seriously?! After literally everything we did to get myself free from that asshole you’re gonna get my soul stuck to you seconds after?! Speak of the fucking devil.”

“Adam for the love of my damn father! I’m literally sacrificing my marriage, connecting with my dad, throwing my pride away. Literally fucking marrying you! For a whole damn year! for your selfish underserving ass! I must get something back for it. Take it or leave it.”

Adam thought for a bit before shrugging. Yeah, it was a bitch, but it was unlikely for Lucifer to do something that bad when Charlie is involved in Adam’s self growth as a person.

“Okay. Deal,” he extends his hand towards Lucifer assuming it was a normal type of deal and the devil sigh.

Unfortunately for them, a holy marriage is supposed to be set in the tradicional terms.

He summoned a box with a golden serpent ring and kneeled down swallowing his pride and accepting Adam as his spouse.

“Adam, would you, the first man accept me; King Lucifer Morningstar as your faithful and loyal husband?”

This startled Adam of course, cause what the fuck was Lucifer doing.

Adam huffed incredulous, “Loyal I doubt it.”

Lucifer tsk sourly already regretting this but held it in. That could wait after their stupid church wedding.

“But sure, whatever…” Adam blushed embarrassed by the whole thing (after all he never experienced something like this before, a marriage proposal; considering he was already born married or given wives), offering his hand while Lucifer looked up a bit before his gaze fell back down to Adam’s fingers and gently slid the ring on his wedding finger.

Suddenly Lucifer and Adam appear in a church house with the grim reaper as their priest and the wedding begins.

“In the name of God, I, Lucifer Morningstar, take you, Adam, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death. This is my solemn vow."

Adam blushed some more, he wasn’t sure why he was being an emotional bitch about it when all of this wasn’t entirely willing but still, he was actually experiencing a wedding in the point of view of a groom.

Adam wasn’t sure what to say but to replicate Lucifer’s vows.

“In the name of God, I, Adam, take you, Lucifer Morninstar, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death. This is my solemn vow."

Lucifer bit his lip, feeling unsure all of a sudden. Was he really gonna do this just for Adam? He looked at his wedding band; the memories, the only thing he had left linked to Lilith. Once he accepts Adam as his, his ring would evaporate and his soul would forever be bounded to Adam.

He winced his eyes shut letting the reaper finish the ceremony.

“So I will repeat this again, in case someone is already rethinking this and wants to flee to the nearest exit which is right at the left end,” the grim reaper side eyes Lucifer, “Do you Lucifer Morningstar accept Adam to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“Do you Adam accept Lucifer Morningstar to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I-“

Adam also had his own doubts, his promises to Eve, the connection he once had for her, the faithful and love for the mother of his children. All of that smacked him in the face with each passing second of the ceremony. He hasn’t even thought of Eve in so long.

“I do.”

The reaper gestures Lucifer to give his ring.

Lucifer winced harder feeling a tear wanting to slip out as he starts.

“Adam, I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow, and with all that I am and all that I have, I honor you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” he slid the ring on Adam. Already sensing the ring that belonged to Lilith turning into dust as he stepped back, falling off his fingers ready to be replaced with Adam’s. Shit.

Adam was given a ring to place it on Lucifer’s wedding finger. He gulped, awkwardly getting ready for his part.

“Lucifer, I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow, and with all that I am and all that I have, I honor you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” he places it on Lucifer’s finger, sealing their bound.

They both watched as the gold of their rings brightened and tightened in their skin.

“I here by declare you; Lucifer Morningstar and Adam Morningstar: king and king consort of hell. You may kiss the groom.”

Adam flinched disgusted, Lucifer cringed while swallowing and mustering the courage to peck Adam quickly.

And that sealed it. In the eyes of the holy spirit they were married. The holy light washed over them as the church bells rang announcing their strong union. Adam’s contract with the overlord broke as the power of their holy union broke it.

After Adam’s little scene of being set free from his contract was done, everything vanished and suddenly they were at a hotel room, lighted by candles and seductive music.

They both looked around, Adam confused, Lucifer just startled by the abruptness.

“Yeah. This is where things get awkward,” Lucifer admitted.

So a week passes and they act like all of that never happened. Everyone at the HOTEL was oblivious of the whole thing but eventually the news spreads around and Charlie finds out from a sinner.

“King Morningstar! Congratulations for your beautiful groom,” he then bows at both Adam and Lucifer.

Lucifer tenses when it happens and notices Charlie’s odd stare.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about, haha, he must be a little cookoo,” he swirls his finger next to his head, nervous. Adam just face palms by how awful Lucifer is at lying.

Of course Charlie doesn’t seem to believe his bullshit so Lucifer quits it.

“Okay, it’s not what you think and it’s absolutely TEMPORARY,” he explains in a quickly fashion, “Adam was trapped, I offered my help, the guy wanted the throne I denied. Only method to get Adam free was something more powerful than a soul contract and that was a holy marriage. And now, we’re married. Temporarily.”

Somehow, and as weird as it was, Charlie and the rest kinda swept it udder a rug. So the whole incident was kinda not a big deal (bc it’s not legit if they don’t actually like each other, still weird tho), both acted like normal and normally they’d just tried laughing off any comments about their marriage. Until it actually becomes a big deal.

When Lucifer starts feeling awkward or annoyed when someone approaches Adam with all intentions on trying to fuck him.

“AHAHA! Wowie! How fun, now get your filthy hands off my husband.”

And everytime Adam would question that, Lucifer would shrug it off as.

“I have to keep the part.”

You can imagine the drama, mix and confusing feelings and new found jealousy. And all of that in this.

So yeah. Thats the au 😭

[myreia]

Bound by Faith

CHAPTER ONE: PHILIA

Chapter Rating: Teen (full story is rated Explicit) Pairing: Aureia Malathar (WoL)/Thancred Waters Major Characters: Aureia Malathar (WoL), Thancred Waters, Urianger Augurelt, Ryne Minor Characters: Y'shtola Rhul, Alisaie Leveilleur, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Cyella Chapter Words: 5,393 Notes: Set post-5.0., spoilers for Shadowbringers base. Summary: With their enemies defeated and the First saved, the Crystarium is alive with celebration. Despite the joy around her, Aureia is uncertain about the next steps to take. So is Thancred, for that matter. The puzzle of their lives has sat incomplete for years, but finally this last, precious piece may be able to slide into place. Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 Read on AO3

By the time evening falls, the celebrations have been well under way for many bells. The Wandering Stairs—scrubbed sparkling clean and bedecked with flower garlands and candles for the occasion—serves as the centre of the festivities under Glynard’s keen eye. A raised stage has been erected below at the foot of the terraced steps, providing ample space for musicians and dancers to perform. The crowd flows as freely as the wine and ale, passing through the tavern with ease. Clusters of friends, families, and strangers gather together to listen to the musicians play and watch the dancers dance.

Aureia watches it all from her spot overlooking the lawn, unable to contain her joy. It’s strange how many familiar faces there are in the crowd, how many people she knows if not by name, then certainly by sight. This unyielding sense of community never fails to take her breath away. Not only is the whole of the Crystarium present, but the Quadrivium is dotted with guests from Lakelands villages and visitors from the Greatwood to Amh Araeng and beyond. Even the pixies are well-represented, soaring through the air on their butterfly wings, their mischievous glee ringing bright and playful above the chorus of merriment.

“There you are!” a familiar voice calls behind her. “I was wondering where you had run off to—”

Aureia glances over her shoulder. The twins push their way through the crowd, Alisaie in the lead, cheeks flushed and blue eyes shining brighter than usual. Alphinaud trails a step behind, huffing with exertion to keep up with her vigorous pace. Like many others attending the festivities, the twins wear flowers in their hair—blue in his, pink in hers. The garlands have Ryne’s mark all over them.

“Well, we were wondering,” Alphinaud corrects as they draw to a stop. “We were concerned that—”

“Oh, hush, Alphinaud,” Alisaie interrupts, elbowing him in the shoulder. “It had occurred to us that you may have found yourself mobbed by a number of your not inconsiderable admirers. We were prepared to mount a rescue if need be, but I see you’ve found a moment of peace.”

Aureia pauses, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Despite the spirit of the young woman’s words, she has a feeling this is not the true reason the twins came to find her. “Thank you,” she says. “If I find myself in need of rescue, you’ll be the first to know.”

Alphinaud laughs and folds his arms, surveying the bustling grounds. “’Tis a remarkable evening,” he ventures. “That so many have come together is… I don’t think there are words to describe it.”

“You already have,” Alisaie says soberly. “Remarkable. What we’ve done here, what we succeeded in doing… We saved a world, Alphinaud. But it wasn’t just us. It was everyone. They all had a hand in it, no matter how small, and that alone…”

He glances at her. “Didn’t think you were one to be weepy, Alisaie—”

“I’m not crying, I’m not! If anyone is prone to cry, it’s you!” She sniffles and presses the back of her hand to her nose, exhaling a long breath. “If only Tesleen had been here to see this. I think she would have been… she would have…” 

Alphinaud touches her shoulder. “Those we have lost are never forgotten. The best we can do now is to take comfort in each other and live. Tonight is truly a testament to that.”

“When did you get so insightful?” she says indignantly and lowers her hand.  

He chuckles. “Perhaps I always have been—or at least after I got over my flights of fancy. Or at least that’s what Mother says.”

Alisaie pauses, chewing her lower lip. The twins haven’t spoken much of their parents, and especially not since their entrapment here on the First. That Alphinaud mentions their mother now is not insignificant. How much do they miss her? How painful is it to be cut off so thoroughly from their family, unable to send even a simple letter, let alone explain the circumstances they have landed themselves in?

Family…

Aureia casts an eye across the Quadrivium and warmth floods her chest. It’s easy to spot Ryne in the crowd as she flits from group to group. Her fathomless joy is infectious, bringing a smile to everyone around her. As for the others, they have scattered around the Wandering Stairs ever since the festivities began in earnest. She hasn’t seen hide nor hair of Y’shtola or G’raha, but Urianger appeared not that long ago in the company of pixies, politely chiding them for performing trickery on unsuspecting guests. And Thancred…

A smile tugs at the corners of her lips. She spots him easily at the back of the tavern, leaning against the wall with his arms folded in his customary manner. It seems some things never change. Even a world away, even in this moment of peace and merriment, he still lingers on the fringes, keeping a watchful eye over those he loves.

“…that certainly sounds like Mother, though I don’t recall a time when she ever said that. Is there something I missed? When did that happen?”

“In a letter! Before I left for Garlemald—”

“Before you left? And it slipped your mind until now to tell me she wrote?”

“Alisaie, please—”

“Are you my brother or not?”

Aureia muffles her laughter, hiding her grin as the twins devolve into one of their familiar arguments. Family has been weighing on her mind of late. For years, the word has only brought her grief and strife. But now it has begun to shift, changing in ways that are both exhilarating and terrifying. She and the Scions—her friends, the dearest people in the world to her—are bound together through something deeper than friendship.

“Alphinaud!”

Ryne’s voice cuts through the din as she clatters up the steps from the lawn. She skids to a stop beside them, out of breath and beaming, and brushes hair out of her face.

“The band will be changing soon,” she says, tugging . “Come dance with me!”

“I—” Alphinaud’s eyes widen, tripping over his words in protest. “Well, see—”

Ryne pulls the ribbon tight. “Come on! I’m more than happy to teach you the steps. And besides, you said you would!”

“Yes, Alphinaud,” Alisaie echoes, an amused smile on her face. “You said you would.”

“I—what—Alisaie, please—”

She flashes him a grin and folds her arms, cocking her head towards the lawn. He follows her gaze, noting the gathered group of musicians and clusters of eagerly waiting dancers. His shoulders sag and he lets out a long sigh. He was never going to win this argument.

Ryne smiles and pats him on the arm. “There,” she says. “I knew you’d come round to it. It will be fun, I promise.”

“I don’t suppose anyone else is joining us?” he asks hopefully. “Urianger or Thancred, perhaps…?”

She laughs. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare ask if I were you,” she says lightly and links her arm through his. “Though I can imagine the look on his face if you did! He would maybe acquiesce if it’s Aureia who asks, but for you…? Now enough stalling, we’ll be late!”

Beaming at Aureia and Alisaie, she tugs on his arm and drags him into the crowd, catapulting them down the stairs and across the lawn. Alisaie catches Aureia’s eye, grinning from ear to ear. Together, they watch them go and settle into comfortable silence.

Aureia relaxes and rests her elbows on the balustrade, feeling oddly contemplative. The changes in Ryne have been remarkable ever since their triumph over Hades. The differences have been there since that day in Amh Araeng, but there’s something so precious about these days that have come after their enemy’s defeat. Ryne has had so little opportunity to be a normal girl. To see her embrace these small, everyday delights—dances, friends, meals shared with loved ones—brings Aureia more joy than she can articulate.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Alisaie says after a moment. “This moment of peace. It doesn’t feel real. It’s something we’ve dreamt of more times than we can count, and now it’s here… I can’t shake this feeling there is something we’ve forgotten. That some imminent crisis is going to raise its ugly head and undo everything we’ve fought so hard to achieve.”

“I know,” Aureia replies. “The thought has occurred to me, too. I don’t doubt we will ever be free of one crisis or another.”

“And that’s the problem, is it not? I dislike feeling this unsettled. It’s hardly fair after everything we’ve been through. I have this unrelenting need to do something, Aureia, as if taking a moment for myself is never enough. I’m not like Alphinaud. I can’t slip so freely into rest and respite. For all his complaints, I know he prefers the quiet. Not that I wish desperate times on anyone, that’s not what I mean, but there is a restlessness in me that needs to do something. And perhaps it’s easier to placate it with thoughts of what could go wrong in the future, rather than accepting that nothing has in the present.”

She lets out a long sigh and shakes her head. “Bah. I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to become so introspective, not on a night like this. You certainly don’t need to be weighed down by my useless thoughts.”

“They’re not useless, Alisaie. If anything, I share them. When you have achieved that singular goal you spent years pursuing, how do you come to terms with that? I don’t know if there is an answer.”

Alisaie catches her eye. “Perhaps the answer is stabbing something with my rapier,” she says with a straight face.

Aureia snorts with laughter. “True. That has worked for me more times than I’d like to admit.”

“Then perhaps let’s say you owe me a sparring match. We have to work out this restlessness somehow—and I have yet to beat you. You know it is within my personal goals to best you someday. There can only be one true red mage amongst the Scions.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

They exchange grins.

Alisaie pauses, the smile fading. “Do try to enjoy yourself tonight, yes?” she says seriously, gripping her hands. “If anyone deserves a time to rest, it’s you. It’s more than earned.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Aureia replies, squeezing tight.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Alisaie smiles. Content with her answer, she bids farewell and disappears into the crowd, searching for her brother. Aureia lets out a little sigh and turns, abandoning her place overlooking the lawn. The conversation has left her oddly contemplative and her mouth is dry. She could use something to drink.

A burst of raucous giggling cuts through the tavern. Not far away, a familiar quartet occupies a large, round table, its surface littered the remains of several meals and more drinks than Aureia can count. Giott perches on the edge, grinning from ear to ear. She loudly guffaws some sordid tale while balancing a half-empty tankard in one hand. Lue-Reeq pushes his chair back and braces his hands against his knees, bowled over as he sobs with laughter. Granson sits with his arms folded, a smile cracking even his serious face. Cerigg chuckles and shakes his head, lounging with his feet up on the table, wine in hand. He glances across the tavern to where Taynor sits with a gaggle of Crystarium youths, keeping a watchful eye over both his companions and his young partner.

The four most unlikely of friends, brought together by their hunt for the Cardinal Virtues, and Aureia herself.

Granson catches her eye and raises a hand in welcome. Cerigg grins and nods, tipping his glass to her. Noticing their movement, Lue-Reeq follows suit and his eyes light up as he spots her, his tail curling upwards with excitement. Giott snorts on her ale and she raises her tankard high, bellowing Aureia’s name at the top of her lungs. Uncertain whether she wants to involve herself in the hunters’—well, more specifically, Giott’s—antics, Aureia waves in return and ducks out of the line of sight, heading for the bar.

Glynard’s staff is kept more than busy. The man himself swims above it all, barking orders and rushing to and fro. Despite his overworked state and the sweat shining on his brow, even he can’t contain the largest of smiles. Not wanting to trouble him, Aureia sidesteps the crowd and slips around to the side.

Behind the bar, Cyella methodically cleans an unending supply of used glasses. The tall, pale-haired elf seems quieter than usual, her grim expression out of place with the high spirits surrounding her.

“Now there’s a surprise,” she says, eyeing Aureia as she approaches. “I didn’t expect to see you of all people alone, Mistress Malathar. Not enjoying your evening?”

Aureia folds her hands on the bar. “No, I am. But between you and me, I’ve never been one to be at the centre of attention.”

“I can understand that.” The barmaid twists her rag round and round, polishing the edges of a glass. “If I may—from the little I’ve witnessed of you and your friends, you have others who are more than capable of doing that for you. The little lordling and his sister come to mind.”

Aureia cocks her head, brows drawn together. “I don’t think Alphinaud has ever described himself as a lordling. An artist, perhaps, but never—”

“Please, Mistress. I’ve been waiting tables longer than you would believe and even the greenest barmaid would see the lad was raised in luxury from the airs he puts on. I do not say this as an insult, merely an observation. He has an infectious charm. It’s easy to see why so many gravitate to him.”

She shoots Aureia a sideways glance, gauging her reaction, and twists the rag between her fingers. “You know that you and yours are the centre of everyday gossip, yes? The company you keep is strange and varied. Perplexing, even, to an outsider’s eye. An unlikely assortment of ragtag men and women who seem to have little to do with each other. But I can see the bonds between you are forged in love and tempered by trust. Whatever flaws you as individuals have are counteracted by each other’s virtues. And you are made all the stronger for it.”

Setting the rag aside, Cyella places a clean glass on the counter and reaches for a decanter. Aureia catches her eye and gestures sharply, shaking her head. The message is clear.

“It may be the same one day for the hunters there,” Cyella continues, nodding at the little band as she puts the decanter away. Giott has fully committed to standing on the table, Lue-Reeq’s head is in his hands, Granson’s unbreakable stoicism has finally cracked, and Cerigg remains exactly as he was. “They answered the call to the hunt for their own reasons, and through it found friendships that may very well last a lifetime. There is unconditional understanding there after the trails they have faced. No one can understand it as well as each other, save perhaps you.”

Aureia presses her lips together, her heart clenched. This isn’t the first time someone has remarked on the way she changes those who cross her path. But giving too much weight to the way she has impacted others’ lives has always made her uncomfortable. She’s not important. She never has been. She is simply trying to do her best in the circumstances she has fallen into.

Cyella notes her expression. With a little hum, she fills the glass with lemon water and pushes it in front of her. “I knew a band much like them once. Or perhaps more like yours. Strangers encountered through circumstance and fate, eventually to become friends bound by faith.”

Aureia takes a sip, the tart taste lingering on her tongue. Though she has no doubt that Glynard has broken into his best vintages for this, she has no desire to fuzz her mind with drink tonight. She’s made too many poor decisions in her life thanks to it. “What became of them?” she asks, though she feels as though she already knows the answer. Even the strongest of friendships may not be enough to endure unfathomable hardship, and the First has seen hardships beyond comprehension.

A faint smile plays across the barmaid’s lips. “It would be a familiar story, in part, to you, but now is not the time. There are happier things to consider the midst of these festivities than tragic tales from eras gone by. You saved the world. That is cause for celebration.”

“I suppose so, though I admit I am at a loss,” Aureia replies, absently rubbing a thumb against the edge of her glass. “How does one go about celebrating the saving of a world?”

The smile fades. “You would know more about that than I. Congratulations, Warrior of Darkness. Be proud. Be happy. You have achieved more in your short time here than many have in a lifetime, and the gravity of that is not an easy weight to bear. Look to your friends and hold them close. For there may be an ending to everything, but that day has not yet come. Not yet.”

With a final, significant look, Cyella tips her head in farewell, smooths down her apron in a business-like manner, and strides away to assist Glynard with the next round of tipsy patrons. Aureia sips at her drink, mulling over her words, and departs the bar. She meanders without purpose, smiling in greeting at those she passes, until she spots two familiar faces at the base of the stairs.

“…and respectfully, I disagree. Even Urianger would say the same.”

“And yet, Urianger is not here. You cannot make an argument on his behalf—”

Y’shtola’s ears prick up as Aureia descends the steps. “As scintillating as I find this discussion, Moren, perhaps it should be saved for another day,” she says, swilling her glass of wine.

He raises an eyebrow. “Of course,” he replies smoothly. “I am happy to give you time to reconsider your stance, Master Matoya.”

“There is nothing to reconsider. I will win this.”

Moren throws back his head and laughs. Giving her a respectful bow, he nods to Aureia and departs across the Quadrivium.

“What was that about?” she asks as she descends the final step.  

“Oh, nothing,” Y’shtola answers, her tail swishing back and forth. “A little friendly conversation, that is all. I swear that man has more of a backbone than he lets on at first glance, he would destroy half the Forum with the way he debates. Admittedly, it wasn’t as quite an entertaining endeavour as when we first started. I am rather irked at being backed into a corner. Mayhap I should consider it a… personal… flaw? Both Thancred and Urianger would say it is good for me to lose an argument once in a while.”

“True,” Aureia replies, straight-faced. “We all have to stay humble.”

Y’shtola stares at her, eyes wide with surprise—and snorts with laughter, pressing the back of her hand to mouth to hide her smile. Aureia grins. Letting the moment pass, the pair fall into comfortable silence, sipping on their drinks as they watch the Quadrivium.   

“And what of you?” the sorceress says after a moment. “I have scarcely seen you tonight.” Her silvery eyes linger on Aureia’s colour-sapped hair, one of the few remaining remnants of the light sickness that nearly consumed her. Though the sickness has passed, the light has left its mark. Only time will tell if the change is permanent. “I must say I’m impressed. One would think the Warrior of Darkness would have been pulled to the centre of attention with little opportunity to leave.”

Aureia takes a drink. A little ways away, G’raha stands in the centre of a small gathering, Lyna hovering protectively at his shoulder. Though he has mostly recovered from his ordeal, his face still bears cuts and bruises from his ordeal. His ears twitch, his expression flitting between unbridled joy and complete and utter shock. For years—decades, truly—his identity had been masked. To be amongst his people now so openly, no longer their benevolent but aloof saviour shrouded in the mystery…

It is a change no one saw coming, least of all the man himself.

“Oh, but don’t you see?” she says lightly. “The Warrior of Darkness is nothing compared to the Crystal Exarch. I think G’raha may need your support more than me. Now his people have seen his face he will never know peace.”

Y’shtola chuckles and raps a finger against her glass, her tail uncurling. “Mayhap he deserves it. Twelve know he has had little opportunity for anything amounting to normalcy—”

G’raha glances through the crowd and catches Aureia’s eye, a silent request for a timely rescue. She grins and raises a hand, declining him with a small wave.

“—as have you, my friend.”

Aureia freezes, caught off guard by the tone. “I’ll be fine,” she says, folding her arms. “Truly.”

Y’shtola purses her lips, silver eyes narrowed. Once again, she is lingering on her hair. “And in my heart, I want nothing more than to believe you,” she says. “You know yourself best of all. I have placed my faith in you time and again, and I trust you to know your own limits. But even so, I cannot deny that my eyes see more clearly than my heart. Your aether may have stabilized, but it is compromised. Distorted into something new, something we have not seen before. And I cannot bring myself to ignore it—and I suspect Ryne would say the same.”  

“Y’shtola—”

“Please, if I may finish? If anyone can overcome this, it is you. There is no doubt in my mind that you can and you will. But I bid you, please, take care. You need rest. There is healing to be done. And I do not speak only of your aether.” 

Aureia’s brows draw together. Though she knows it comes from a heartfelt place, she cannot help feel like she is being scolded. “What is this about, Shtola?” she asks.

“That you, my friend, have the very appalling habit of pushing yourself beyond your limits. Scarcely have you felled one enemy before you set your eyes on the next. But you cannot always move so quickly from one obstacle to another lest you wear yourself thin. I know this all too well; I fear I am very much the same. Even now, in the midst of these celebrations, I cannot stop myself from pondering what the future holds or the next steps we must take. There are problems we have swept under the rug for the time being, but sooner or later, they will demand an answer.”

“…did you really just advise me to rest while admitting you will not do so yourself?”

Y’shtola chuckles hesitantly and swills her wine, watching the deep red liquid swirl around her glass. “What can I say? Do not follow in my footsteps, I am but a poor example.” A grim expression settles across her face, and she takes a long drink. “These festivities are not confined to the Crystarium, but span the whole of Norvrandt. And on a night like this, my mind turns to Slitherbough and the Night’s Blessed. They have been my home for these intervening years, and I know all too well there will come a time when we must return to whence we came.”

“I know.” Aureia’s fingers tighten on her glass. A strange lump forms in her throat. “It’s not something I’m keen to think about.”

Y’shtola raises an eyebrow.

Her stomach twists and she flushes. “You said Slitherbough has been your home these past few years,” she says quickly, desperate to explain herself. “When I think of home, there’s not one place on the Source that calls to me that way. I’ve been displaced since I left Garlemald. I once thought to call Ul’dah my home and you know how that ended. The Rising Stones is our base of operations, but I wouldn’t think to call that a home. I have an apartment in Shirogane, but I haven’t been back since we left Othard—”

“You have an apartment? This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

“Ah… It was supposed to be a secret. Tataru knows, but I needed her help with a landlord who was a little too eager to upsell to a foreigner.”

“I can imagine how that went.”

“He dropped the price after a single meeting.”

“A wise decision. Mayhap there is a modicum of intelligence left in landlords after all.”

Aureia snorts. She casts a sideways glance at her friend, catching a glimmer of deadpan amusement in her eye. “I can’t imagine what kind of disaster it must be now,” she continues. “It was little more than a bare room to begin with and I filled it with potted plants to satisfy a measly attempt at gardening. Either they’ve taken it over entirely or they’re all dead.”

“If Tataru knows of its existence, I am quite certain she has sent someone to handle the upkeep in your absence whether you like it or not.”

“Perhaps, but that’s besides the point! I brought this up to say that when I think of home, the Crystarium is the place that comes to mind. I love this city and its people, Shtola. And Ryne is here. I don’t know if I will ever be prepared to say goodbye, though I know we must someday soon. And so I haven’t given it much thought—at first because there was no time, and then later because I didn’t want to.”

Y’shtola regards her carefully. “And I have given it too much. Of the six of us, you are unique in your circumstances. You are here physically, united in body, mind, and soul. You alone can traverse the rift between Source and shard, visit either world whenever you so please. Not so for the rest of us.”

Aureia’s mouth tightens. “I haven’t forgotten the circumstances that brought you here, believe me,” she says grimly, raising her glass to her lips. She swallows a mouthful, the tart lemon water going bitter on her tongue.

“We are of twin worlds now, with duties and responsibilities to each. However, in the end we can only choose one. I cannot speak for the others, but I fear that if we ignore the reality of our existence here, the laws of nature will decide for us. Every day I am reminded that my presence here is by virtue of my soul made manifest. A fact that is undoubtedly unsustainable in the long term.”

“You mean to say that your souls cannot last forever if they remain separate from your bodies.”

“Indeed. The discovery of a method to reunite them is now of paramount importance. And my heart aches at the thought—not only for myself, but for us all and especially for Thancred. It is not that I think any of us do not wish to return to the Source, but rather once we are gone, it will be nigh impossible to return. We all have dear ones to whom it will be devastating to permanently say goodbye.”

Aureia lowers her glass, watching her friend closely. There is a strange look in Y’shtola’s face, one she has only seen once—in the Greatwood, after her reckless use of Flow. “Is this about Runar?” she asks.

A hint of a smile touches Y’shtola’s lips. She stares ahead, absently sipping on her wine, draining it to its last dregs. Her eyes burn with the kind of intensity that only arises when struck with the desire to take on a new challenge. “You and Thancred will not always be on the First,” she says, adeptly sidestepping the question. “Have you considered what will become of Ryne when that time comes?”

The question hang in the air and Aureia flushes at the directness. Uncertain how to answer, she scans the Quadrivium again. The music has ended for the time being and the dancers have gone their separate ways. She spots the twins easily—Alphinaud sits on the steps with G’raha, engrossed in conversation, while Alisaie has attracted the attention of a pixie. They circle her head, their colourful wings flashing in the warm lights, giggling at her appalled expression. A little ways away, Ryne sits on the lawn with Moren, enthusiastically telling him one tale or another. When she catches sight of Aureia, her face lights up. She raises a hand and waves, grinning with delight.

Aureia smiles, a joyful ache tugging at heart. Ryne has come so far in the past few moons, accepting her powers and legacy on her own terms and carving out an identity for herself that is no longer controlled by the demands of others. She couldn’t be more proud of her. And though she has not known her for long in the grand scheme of things, there is something powerful that binds them together, something that Aureia has never been able to fully express. She is not merely a mentor or a friend or a guardian, but something that surpasses all three.

“Aureia?” Y’shtola presses.

Aureia pauses. “I… No. Not yet. To be honest, I don’t know if that is something I am ready to contend with.”

“You love her dearly.”

“Yes.”

“Not unlike mother to daughter, if it’s not too bold to say.”

Aureia turns to her, eyes wide, the weight of the realization washing over her. “Nothing escapes your notice, does it,” she says quietly, still taken aback. Distracted, she raises her glass to her lips and drains the remaining water.

Y’shtola lets out a little sigh. “I should apologize. I did not mean to be so forward. And with regards to the points laid bare before, I did not mean to cloud your mind with a matter like this on an eve of celebration.”

“There’s no need to apologize. No matter how much reason we have to celebrate tonight, it does not mean that you can’t be concerned about the future. As you said, I am not in the same circumstances as you, but I think I know something about being terrified of the unknown when your very existence is on the line—”

“I am not terrified. I know we will resolve this conundrum. If G’raha can unlock the secrets of time and space, we can find a method to return our souls to our bodies. No, Aureia, the thought I cannot excise from my mind is the rift between worlds. There must be a way to traverse it without the encumbrances we have faced. There must.” She trails off and shakes her head. “I am sorry, I did not mean to become so contemplative this evening. Thank you, my friend, for indulging these nonsensical thoughts of mine.”

“They’re not nonsensical. I’ll make you a promise right now, Shtola. Someday we will find a way to breach the gap. No matter how long it takes.”

She laughs. “If there is one thing I can count on, it is for you to be as reckless and stubborn as I. Mark me—I will hold you to this promise.”

“I would want nothing less.”

Y’shtola smiles, warmth and affection brightening her face. With a little nod of her head and a swish of her tail, she excuses herself and sets off across the Quadrivium. Aureia raises a hand in farewell and heads up the stairs, returning into the tavern proper.

Not unlike mother to daughter, if it’s not too bold to say.

The words circle her mind with every step she takes. The revelation feels strange, new… and yet it fits. Once again, Y’shtola has shown an uncanny ability to see directly into the heart of the matter and bring it to light. And now she is grappling with it, there is only one person with whom she can discuss it.

Striding purposefully across the tavern, Aureia returns her finished glass to the bar and takes off in search of Thancred.

[captain-lessship]

Dark and Cold Pt. 2

You woke up to a noise, you looked at the small ray of light coming out from under your tent: it was bright. It made you wonder about the time.

You quickly got out of bed, pulled on your thick bed robe, tied it closed and walked to your door, opening and seeing a group of soldiers walking by.

“Excuse me, sorry to disrupt but what time is it?”

The told you it was a quarter past noon, you thanked them as you internally groaned: you over slept through the planned breakfast. You walked back in to the tent and drug your most beautiful dress to get ready in. It was slightly difficult to get dressed in the many layers without help but you’d done it during all your trips as to not bring your personal servant, Meja, along. 

You also needed to do your hair and make up. Ice blue eye shadow, shining skin and sharp eyeliner was your staple look. You released your hair from the sleep band it was tied in. You combed through it slightly. Looking in the mirror, you looked perfect for the occasion. 

You stood and walked you to go find him so you could apologize for missing breakfast with him. 

Earlier in the morning, Aleksander had come to your tent and saw how deep you were in sleep that he hadn’t the heart to wake you. He had watched small snowflakes float around you, moving like a circus carousel as you gently snored. He gently pushed hair from your face and turned to leave as to prepare for the send off. 

He was now in his tent, triple checking the map when he heard your footsteps. He turned quickly to look at you. To anyone else, the temperature would have seemed to drop but the heat of happiness filled him. He walked to you and extended a hand.

“Love, did you sleep well?” 

“I did,” you laughed lightly, “way past the time I was supposed to. I’m sorry I missed our breakfast, Aleksander.” 

He smiled, he let only you address him by his name, “It’s alright. Traveling does that to people Are you hungry? I am sure we could get you a small something for our now brunch.”

“Did you not eat?” Concern in your voice.

“I didn’t. I got caught up in planning and I’m kind of glad you didn’t wake up cause then you might’ve had to eat alone.”

You sighed, “You shouldn’t have waited for me.” Your eyes drifted to the map, “Is this the planned route? Are those the markers?” You pointed to small flag shaped drawings.

“Yes, I have charted it myself, this seems to be the most successful path for previous trips.”

“Have any made it back on other routes?”

“Not many, that’s why we chose this one. Of course if something goes wrong, the fold seems to change so we have to get this right or we’ll need to replan the next trips.” 

You watched his face grow slightly annoyed. You gently raised a hand to his shoulder, “I am sure it will work.”

He placed his opposite hand on top of yours. “I hope so. Stakes are high this go around.” A smile coming to his face.

“I have faith in this. Even so I have started preparing.” You were talking about the handmade scarf. 

“Really? Then I hope even more that it works out.” He looked at your other hand where he could see the marks of spinning the thread, weaving the base scarf and the pin pricks from embroidering. “I would hate it to be all for nothing.”

“It isn’t all for nothing. I will throw a sort of fit if I have to.” You joked. 

He laughed, “I know you would but wouldn’t it be embarrassing to marry a man who failed?”

“Failed?” You laughed, “You are the furthest thing from a failure to me.” 

He sighed, “I know, I just worry.”

“Don’t.” You moved to hug him, “There’s nothing to worry about. It’ll work. I might as well go ahead and ask them to move the ceremony to this camp.” 

“That would be something. I don’t think your mother would approve.” 

“My mother barely approves of the fact I can dress myself.” You rolled your eyes. “Now my father would think it would be funny.”

Aleksander smiled as he thought of the juxtaposition that was your parents. You  father was short, cheery and was an entertainer at heart. Your mother was a willowy, stern and confident woman. 

Only when they were together did your mother let loose and your father took more responsibility. You were their  perfect combination.

Aleksander looked at you. He saw so much; he saw your intelligence, your strength, your loving heart and caring hands. In the three years of your relationship, he had seen all of this and loved all of it. 

The moment was interrupted by someone entering the tent. You both turned to look at the Grisha soldier.

“General Kirigan, we need you. We are about to send off.” He then saw you and kneeled slightly, “Lady Eismantel, good morning.”

“Good morning.” You said, letting Aleksander slip from your hold. You followed them out of the tent and walked to the docking station to watch. 

[kazscrows]

Crooked Kingdom Reread

Chapter 2: Wylan

The first Wylan chapter!

Wylan’s very first thought:

What am I doing here?

That thought had run through Wylan’s head at least six times a day since he’d met Kaz Brekker. But on a night like this, a night when they were “working,” it rose and fell in his head like a nervous tenor practicing his scales: WhatamIdoingherewhatamIdoingherewhatamIdoinghere.

#relatable

Wylan watched Kaz deal another hand to Smeet, Jesper, and the other players at the round table. He wore the same sky-blue staff jacket as Wylan and his hands were bare. Wylan had to fight not to stare at them.

Imagining Kaz wearing that jacket is funny

I mean.. they have little clouds on them!

I should draw him in it

Kaz’s hands moved as if they’d been made for no other purpose than to manipulate cards…

Trickster hands…

…long white fingers flexing in easy rhythm, the shuffle precise, each turn economical. Kaz had claimed he could control any deck.

Wylan is fascinated by Kaz’s hands and you know what? That’s fair.

Me too

Wylan knew Nina could handle just about any man and any situation, but he didn’t think she should have to sit half-dressed in a drafty gambling parlor, perched on some leering lawyer’s lap. At the very least, she was probably going to catch cold.

Wylan is worried she’ll catch a cold that’s so cute 🥺

Matthias probably isn’t in the room because he’d just have steam shooting from his ears the whole four hours

And he might kill Smeet over how he’s eyeing Nina

Smeet grinned, clearly pleased. “This is nothing compared to managing a business.”

“I can’t imagine how you do that either.”

“Sometimes I don’t know myself,” Smeet said on a sigh. “It’s been a hard week. One of my clerks never came back from his holiday, and that meant I was stuck shorthanded.”

Hate to break it to you, but that clerk is definitely not coming back

Jesper rose and reached for his guns. Wylan clutched the bottle of champagne in his hands as the other players pushed back from the table, ready to grab their own weapons or dive for cover. But all Jesper did was unsling his gun belt. Gently, he laid the revolvers on the table, fingers brushing over their high-gloss ridges with care.

Poor Jesper

He’s offering up his children

…what was Jesper thinking? He loved those guns. He might as well cut off his own hand and throw it into the pot.

See? Wylan gets it

But it’s alright it’s all part of Kaz’s plan (sort of)

He tossed Wylan a cape and mask, the trappings of the Gray Imp, one of the characters of the Komedie Brute. “Let’s go.”

“Me?”

“No, the idiot behind you.”

HA

Poor Wylan constantly getting teased and mocked

Kaz rarely used his cane when they were roaming parts of the city where he might be recognized. But despite his lopsided gait, Wylan had to jog to keep up with him.

Kaz’s disability never made him weak

He’s probably also pushing through the pain because everything they’re doing is for Inej

“How is—”

“Nina is fine. Jesper is fine. Everyone is fine except for me because I’m stuck with a gang of hand-wringing nursemaids. Keep a watch.”

BAHAHAHA

Here’s Matthias

I love how Kaz knew he was going to ask after Nina

And I love how he is just so done with everyone being worrywarts

“hand-wringing nursemaids”

They’re like: Now Kaz, dear.. are you sure this will work? Is this even… safe?

He’s over it and very stressed

I love Kaz

They should have some faith in him though!

Kaz blew again, lips pursing in time with the pattern of a new command. The dogs quieted and flopped to the floor with a disgruntled whine. one even rolled over on its back.

“Now why can’t people be this easily trained?” Kaz murmured as he crouched to oblige the dog with a belly rub, black-gloved fingers smoothing the short fur.

I’m cackling

And of course the classic Kaz stops heist to pet dog scene™️

Wylan could still hear the clerk screaming as Kaz dangled him by the ankles from the top of the Hanraat Point Lighthouse. I’m a good man, he’d shouted. I’m a good man. They were the last words he’d spoken. If he’d talked less, he might have lived.

Oh I forgot Wylan witnessed this!

I started to think this was a memory Kaz had, but it was actually Wylan recounting it

And I told you that clerk was never coming back from holiday

He’s super dead

Jan Van Eck has a printing press under Wylan’s name…

This man feels me with rage

“I’m slowing you down,” he said.

Kaz flipped open another sheaf of documents. “I knew exactly how long this would take. What was your mother’s family name?

I love how Kaz just immediately proves his thought wrong

Kaz planned on needing more time to peruse the files by himself

He knew Wylan would be helpful in finding out the names things were under. He brought him along for that, not as an extra pair of eyes to read

Our thoughts can lie to us

Wait.. wait.. Wylan just said that his mom “died” when he was eight-

Wylan is.. he’s sixteen now!

You’re telling me Jan Van Eck just hid Wylan’s mom from him for eight years—

Oh my gosh—

He couldn’t go to her funeral because there was no body- She’s still alive-

“…Why do you guys say that, anyway? No mourners, no funerals? Why not just say good luck or be safe?”

“We like to keep our expectations low.”

I’ve always thought this was kind of funny

I got excited when Wylan asked this question in the show, but then Inej answered him instead of Kaz and I remember being like:

“Yay he said the thing!! And Inej.. said the other… thing ..?”

I was confused at first and then later a little disappointed because… I don’t really think it’s something Inej would say?

It just hit different than having Kaz say it

Like honestly it was kind of depressing instead of mildly humorous

It’s a little depressing when Kaz says it too but…

For a second I thought they had actually changed the answer, but really I had just forgotten Kaz was supposed to say it

Like “Huh.. that seemed wrong I guess they altered it a little”

But the quote wasn’t wrong the person was—

And this is now a very long rant for two short lines of dialogue—

Has more bullet points than my entire Joost chapter review. RIP Joost—

But it bugged me in the show okay??

Kaz never yelled the way Wylan’s father did, but Wylan had learned to listen for that low note, that bit of black harmony that crept into Kaz’s tone when things were about to get dangerous.

I’ve always loved imagining Kaz’s voice and I love how Wylan explains how it gets more dangerous sounding here

Kaz isn’t really a yeller. He doesn’t need to be loud to scare people

“…he’s been making donations to the Church of Saint Hilde for the last eight years. If you want to pay your respects to your mother, that’s probably the place to start.”

Wylan stared at Kaz dumbly in the shadowy room. He’d never heard of the Church of Saint Hilde. And he’d never known Dirtyhands to share any bit of information that wouldn’t serve him.

He’s in such disbelief that Kaz would just tell him something out of.. can this be called kindness?.. Yeah, I think so.. maybe

Does Kaz have ulterior motives for this? I honestly can’t remember…

Regardless, Kaz really does care for his own. His Crows

Oh Wylan was so sure Kaz would just kill Smeet’s daughter…

I mean he’s thinking about the lighthouse incident again

Kaz had held him by his ankles and the clerk had wet himself, screaming and begging for mercy before he’d finally given up Smeet’s whistle commands. Kaz had been about to reel him back up when the clerk had started offering things: money, bank account numbers for Smeet’s clients, and then—I’ve got information on one of the girls at the Menagerie, the Zemeni.

Kaz had paused. What do you have on her?

Wylan had heard it then, that low, dangerous note of warning. But the clerk didn’t know Kaz, didn’t recognize the change in the rough scrape of his voice. He thought he’d found a wedge, something Kaz wanted.

…

Slowly, Kaz began to let the man’s legs slide through his grasp. It’s terrible, isn’t it? Knowing someone holds your life in his hands. The clerk’s voice rose another octave as he realized his mistake. She’s just a working girl, he screamed. She knows the score! I’m a good man. I’m a good man!

There are no good men in Ketterdam, Kaz said. The climate doesn’t agree with them. And then he’d simply let go.

Kaz was actually so insane for this

Insanely hot—

But in all seriousness. Kaz doesn’t just kill people. Especially children

He was about to let this man go free right up until he realized just how rotten and disgusting of a person he was

We’ve all seen the memes that are like “Kaz is okay with murderers , but he draws the line at disrespecting women”

And we stan

Well.. I don’t actually condone murder that actually is super bad-

Don’t kill people— but…

This is just a book—

Don’t include almost the entire chapter challenge go—

Annnd I failed immediately

Kaz squat down so he could look the little girl in the eye. “What’s this big fellow’s name?” Kaz said, laying a hand on the dog’s wrinkled neck.

“This is Maestro Spots.”

“Is that so?”

“He has a very fine howl. Da lets me name all the puppies.”

“Is Maestro Spots your favorite?” asked Kaz.

She appeared to think, then shook her head.

“I like Duke Addam Von Silverhaunch best, then Fuzzmuzzle, then Maestro Spots.”

“That’s good to know, Hanna.”

Her mouth opened into a little O. “How do you know my name?”

“I know all children’s names.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yes. Albert who lives next door and Gertrude on Ammberstraat. I live under their beds and in the backs of the closets.”

“I knew it,” the girl breathed, fear and triumph in her voice. “Mama said there was nothing there, but I knew it.” She cocked her head to one side. “You don’t look like a monster.”

“I’ll tell you a secret, Hanna. The really bad monsters never look like monsters.”

Now the little girl’s lip trembled. “Did you come to eat me? Da says monsters eat children who don’t go to bed when they’re told.”

“They do. But I won’t. Not tonight. If you do two things for me.” His voice was calm, almost hypnotic. It had the coarse rasp of an over-rosined bow. “First, you must crawl into bed. And second, you must never tell anyone you’ve seen us, especially your da.” He leaned forward and gave Hanna’s braid a playful tug. “Because if you do, I’ll slit your mother’s throat and then your father’s, and then I’ll cut out the hearts of all these sweet slobbering hounds. I shall save Duke Silverhaunch for last so that you will know it’s all your fault.” The little girl’s face was as white as the lace on the neck of her nightgown, her eyes wide and bright as new moons. “Do you understand?” She nodded frantically, chin wobbling. “Now, now, no tears. Monsters see tears and it only whets their appetites. Off to bed with you, and take that useless Maestro Spots along too.”

Kaz is the boogeyman confirmed

“When she was gone, Wylan slipped out from behind the door and followed Kaz down the steps. “How could you say something like that to her? She’s just a child.”

“We were all just children once.”

“But—”

“It was that or snap her neck and make it look like she fell down the stairs, Wylan. I think I showed remarkable restraint. Move.”

I probably didn’t need to include this entire scene, but it’s always been a favorite of mine

Kaz is so scary here

And yet- he’s almost playful too

If he hadn’t threatened to kill her parents at the end it’s a mostly silly conversation

Matthias gave a high birdcall from the other end of the street. Kaz glanced at his watch and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it wildly. “Right on time.”

They rounded the corner and slammed directly into Cornelis Smeet.

Previous | Next

[writernopal]

Find-It Tag

Tagged by @liv-is, see her post here!

Tagging (gently): @mysticstarlightduck @talesofsorrowandofruin @mariahwritesstuff @outpost51

My words to find are: heart, dusk, touch, bite, strike

Your words will be: falter, leap, faith, leaf, sky

heart (AASOAF 2, Axtapor's POV)

I couldn’t hear myself breathe or even feel the beating of my own heart in my chest. The only thing that existed now were those tender and familiar callouses, laid against my scales, coupled with the undeniable fact that these were the only hands in all of Oepus that I knew better than my own. I held them, dreamt of them, hallucinated them, and thought of them more times than I could count, so there could be no mistaking who they belonged to!

dusk (AASOAF 1, Axtapor's POV)

I went outside and noticed it was dusk now. I guessed I really had been in there for a long time.

touch (AASOAF 2, Mariel's POV)

He laughed. “My mother said I cried right oft. Nay quieted ‘less Egra be near.”  “Your sister?” I asked, recognizing the name. “Aye. We be shell twins: pair of babes born from the same egg. It be seen as a boon of luck for somethin’ as so to happen, if’n the babes be born right.” He said with a thoughtful look on his face as he stared at the statue, “Egra nay been born with spots as I, so it been an omen of ill tidin’s ‘stead. Would have been put down if it was no for my grandmother. She would no let ‘em touch me.” I grabbed onto his arm and squeezed it tightly. “I’m glad she didn’t.” “Aye. So be I.” He replied quietly as we stood there just a moment longer, “There be more to see.”

bite (AASOAF 1, Mariel's POV)

I watched him, and even though I was screaming at my legs to take me toward him, they wouldn’t move. They were so stubborn now it was maddening.  “Come near. Will no bite.” He said, beckoning me to him.  I hesitated just a little longer when finally, my legs started to move. One foot in front of the other. Simple, right? Yes, I had walked many times; this was no different.

strike (AASOAF 1, Mariel)

I heard him settle down on the couch as he always did, followed by the strike of a match and the subsequent draw and exhale of him smoking a pipe. It was such a familiar set of sounds to me after being in his company for some time. Something about realizing that such a familiarity existed comforted me.

[southerngraceful]

When You Feel Like There's Nothing Left

There are times when I feel like I have nothing left to give. Those hard seasons when you pour out everything for everyone else and feel like you're left standing in the aftermath, empty. When your cup is bone dry, and you don’t know how to fill it back up. In those moments, I feel lost. Confused. Hurt. So alone.

Disappointment settles in. It creeps up in ways I didn’t expect—disappointment in others, yes, but mostly disappointment in myself. It’s like training for a race with all you’ve got, running hard, pushing through every obstacle, only to fall short at the finish line. Worse, there’s no one there waiting to comfort you, to tell you it’s okay.

I’ll admit, there’s a deep pain when you feel like you’ve let yourself down. And carrying that weight alone? That makes it even heavier.

Sure, I know how to pull myself up by the bootstraps. I’ve done it plenty of times before. I’ve put on my big girl pants and faced the storm alone, figuring things out as I go. But even as strong as I can be, there’s a part of me that longs for help. For someone to share the burden, to whisper, “I’ve got you. You’re not alone.”

And yet, in those moments of loneliness, when it feels like I’m fighting every battle on my own, it’s so easy to lose sight of God. To wonder, where is He in all of this? Why hasn’t He stepped in? But if I’ve learned anything through the valleys, it’s this: those desolate, empty moments are not without purpose.

There is purpose in the loneliness. There is meaning in the disappointment. As much as it hurts, I’ve come to understand that these seasons—where I can barely see my own hand in front of my face—are the very moments God uses to draw me closer. When everything else is stripped away, and I have no one left to lean on but Him, that’s when He reveals Himself in ways I couldn’t see before.

Because when life is full, when I’m surrounded by distractions or the noise of other people, it’s easy to miss what God is doing. It’s easy to think that others are the reason I’m getting by, or that I’m making it through on my own strength. But when it’s just me, alone with my disappointment and doubt, that’s when I’m reminded that I’ve never truly been alone.

God is there, even in the silence. Even in the emptiness, He’s there. He shows up in the darkest places, bringing light where there is none. He uses those moments of loneliness to teach me something so profound—that my worth doesn’t come from my accomplishments or my ability to get everything right. It comes from Him.

He didn’t create me to leave me here, in the middle of my pain and disappointment. He made me with purpose, with intention. I am wonderfully and purposefully made. And though the loneliness feels endless sometimes, it’s in those moments that God reminds me who I truly am. He whispers, You are mine. He shows me my value when I’ve lost sight of it.

God hasn’t forgotten me. He hears my cries, He knows my pain. He’s with me—even here, even now, in the middle of my mess, in the deepest valley. And if He’s here with me in the darkness, I know He’ll walk with me into the light.

So even when I feel empty, when I’m tired and disappointed, I hold onto the truth: God is faithful. He hasn’t left. He’s still working, still shaping, still guiding. I’m not alone. I never have been. And neither are you.

[jdgo51]

September 20, 2024

God’s Got This!

Heidi Efta (Florida, USA)

"Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."" - Hebrews 11:1 (NRSVUE)

"Five years ago, my husband of 26 years unexpectedly passed away. He was also the father of our three daughters and the primary wage-earner. Now when I think back on those dark days, I can see how I have been in God’s hands all along.

I prayed for my broken heart, and God gave me comfort. I prayed for guidance, and God led me to a job that would sustain me and give me purpose. I prayed for my girls, and God has led them along their own journeys. I prayed for help with having two mortgages on our family home, and God showed me how to eventually sell that house and move somewhere much more manageable. I continued to pray for direction, and God introduced me to the man who would later become my fiancé.

I do not need to doubt or fear any new hurdle. I’ve seen time and time again that God is in control. It’s easy to go back to worry when the path is unclear. But I know the Lord is with me every step I take. When I start to fret, I remind myself of what I’ve been through and take a deep breath. God’s got this!" Never have fear and never feel totally alone, God has this, whatever the upcoming situation may be. Trust His judgement and His unending care for you.

Today's Prayer

"Dear Heavenly Father, even if we don’t see the answers we are looking for, help us remember your promise never to leave or forsake us." Amen.

Hebrews 11:1-16

"1 Faith is the reality of what we hope for, the proof of what we don’t see. 2 The elders in the past were approved because they showed faith. 3 By faith we understand that the universe has been created by a word from God so that the visible came into existence from the invisible. 4 By faith Abel offered a better sacrifice to God than Cain, which showed that he was righteous, since God gave approval to him for his gift. Though he died, he’s still speaking through faith. 5 By faith Enoch was taken up so that he didn’t see death, and he wasn’t found because God took him up. He was given approval for having pleased God before he was taken up. 6 It’s impossible to please God without faith because the one who draws near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards people who try to find him. 7 By faith Noah responded with godly fear when he was warned about events he hadn’t seen yet. He built an ark to deliver his household. With his faith, he criticized the world and became an heir of the righteousness that comes from faith. 8 By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was going to receive as an inheritance. He went out without knowing where he was going. 9 By faith he lived in the land he had been promised as a stranger. He lived in tents along with Isaac and Jacob, who were coheirs of the same promise. 10 He was looking forward to a city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God. 11 By faith even Sarah received the ability to have a child, though she herself was barren and past the age for having children, because she believed that the one who promised was faithful. 12 So descendants were born from one man (and he was as good as dead). They were as many as the number of the stars in the sky and as countless as the grains of sand on the seashore. 13 All of these people died in faith without receiving the promises, but they saw the promises from a distance and welcomed them. They confessed that they were strangers and immigrants on earth. 14 People who say this kind of thing make it clear that they are looking for a homeland. 15 If they had been thinking about the country that they had left, they would have had the opportunity to return to it. 16 But at this point in time, they are longing for a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore, God isn’t ashamed to be called their God—he has prepared a city for them." All things regarding God, require faith. Unwavering faith that carries you into and through all situations. God gives you strength, power and resolve to make things happen correctly. Bless you everyone! Joe

[dfroza]

“He will draw our buried motives, thoughts, and deeds (even things we don’t know or admit to ourselves) out of the dark shadows of our hearts into His light.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 4th chapter of the letter of First Corinthians:

Rather than power brokers, think of us as servants of the Anointed One, the Liberating King, caretakers of the mysteries of God. Because we are in this particular role, it is especially important that we are people of fidelity and integrity. It makes little difference to me how you or any human court passes judgment on me. I even resist the temptation to compare myself to the ever-changing human standard. Although I am not aware of any flaw that might exclude me from this divine service, that’s not the reason I stand acquitted—the only supreme judge, our Lord, will examine me in the proper time. So resist the temptation to act as judges before all the evidence is in. When the Lord comes, He will draw our buried motives, thoughts, and deeds (even things we don’t know or admit to ourselves) out of the dark shadows of our hearts into His light. When this happens, the voice of God will speak to each of us the only praise that will ever matter.

Right now, brothers and sisters, the best thing I can do for you is to apply these principles to the situation with Apollos and me. Maybe we can show you the meaning of the saying, “not beyond the things written.” If you learn that, perhaps none of you will swell with pride because you fall into the seductive trap of pitting one against the other. Is there any reason to consider yourselves better than others? What do you have that you didn’t receive? If you received it as a gift, why do you boast like it is something you achieved on your own?

Now let’s see if I have it straight. You suppose that you already have all you need. You already are rich and prosperous. And without us you’ve already begun to reign like kings. To be honest, I wish you did reign so that we could reign with you because it seems to me that God has put His emissaries at the end of the line, like convicts in their final walk to certain death. We have become a spectacle to the rest of the world—to all people and heaven’s messengers. We are nothing but fools for the cause of the Anointed One while you are wise in Him. Am I right? We are feeble and tired while you are mighty and full of life. You are well respected by others while we’re treated as contemptuous creatures by pretty much everyone everywhere. Up to this very minute, we are famished, we are thirsty, and our clothes are shabby, practically rotted to pieces. We are homeless, hapless wanderers. But still we labor, working with our hands to meet our needs because, despite all of this, when a fist is raised against us, we respond with a blessing; when we face violence and persecution, we stay on mission; and when others choose taunts and slander against us, we speak words of encouragement and reconciliation. We’re treated as the scum of the earth—and I am not talking in the past tense; I mean today! We’re the scraps of society, nothing more than the foulest human rubbish.

I am not telling you all this so that you’ll feel guilty or be ashamed of how you have acted. I am only trying to warn you, just as a father would warn his children. You may have 10,000 instructors in the faith of the Anointed One, but you have only one father. In Jesus the Anointed I have become your father through my efforts in spreading the good news. So as your father in the faith, I want to encourage you to live as I have lived. Imitate my life. This is one of the reasons I sent Timothy to be with you. He is my dearly loved and faithful child in the Lord. His mission is to remind you of the way I experience life in the Anointed. In all the churches everywhere I go, I teach the same lessons the same way, and I live out those lessons. But the reality is, some of you have put yourselves on pedestals and live like you are high above the rest—it’s as if you assumed I would not return to confront your misguided pride. But I am coming. Lord willing, I will be with you soon. Then I will know what power is backing those arrogant folks and their words. The kingdom of God is not a realm of grandiose talk; it is a realm of power. So tell me what you want. Should I visit you, rod in hand ready to discipline a crew of self-important people; or should I embrace you, love you, and gently teach you as we celebrate the blessings of God together?

The Letter of First Corinthians, Chapter 4 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Paul explains and exemplifies the goals of a mature believer in a way that may be easily contrasted with the desires of an immature believer. He is seeking love and truth more than popularity, embracing suffering rather than comfort. In fact, he disregards popularity and comfort completely so that he isn’t distracted from the love and truth of Jesus. This could be a powerful force in the world if believers embraced this kind of maturity.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 31st chapter of the book of Exodus:

The Eternal One instructed Moses.

Eternal One: Look, I have a special calling upon one of the sons of Judah. His name is Bezalel (the son of Uri, son of Hur). I have filled him with God’s Spirit, gifted him with wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and skills with a variety of crafts. He is an expert designer and works well with gold, silver, and bronze. He is able to cut and set gems, work with wood, and skillfully perform any craft needed to help construct the congregation tent and its furnishings. I have appointed Oholiab son of Ahisamach of the tribe of Dan to assist Bezalel. I have gifted all of Israel’s artisans with the skills needed to build everything I have instructed you: the congregation tent, the covenant chest, the seat of mercy that covers it, all the furnishings for the tent, the table and its accessories, the pure gold lampstand with all its tools, the altar of incense, the altar for burnt offering with all its utensils, the washing basin and its stand, the woven garments, Aaron’s sacred priestly garments, the clothes worn by Aaron’s sons when they serve as My priests, the anointing oil, and the fragrant incense to be used in the holy place. The craftsmen are to design and build all of these exactly as I have instructed you.

The Eternal One instructed Moses regarding the Sabbath.

Eternal One: Speak to the Israelites and tell them, “You must be careful to observe My Sabbaths. For the Sabbath Day serves as a sign between Me and you for all generations, so that you will know I am the Eternal One who has set you apart from all the other nations. Keep the Sabbath because it is a sacred day for you, different from all other days. Anyone who violates the Sabbath or defiles it must be executed; anyone who works on the Sabbath will be cut off from the community. You have six days out of every week to do whatever work is needed, but the seventh day is the Sabbath, a day set aside for rest and only rest. It is sacred to Me. Anyone who works on the Sabbath must be executed. Therefore, the Israelites are to keep the Sabbath and celebrate it throughout all their generations as an everlasting covenant. The Sabbath exists as a sign forever of the covenant between Me and the people of Israel for I made heaven and earth in six days, but then on the seventh day I stopped My work and was refreshed.”

When God had finished giving these instructions to Moses on Mount Sinai, He gave Moses the two stone tablets as a witness to their agreement inscribed by the very finger of God.

The Book of Exodus, Chapter 31 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Wednesday, may 22 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about the affirmation of eternal life:

Right now, as you are seeing this, take a moment to reaffirm that the Lord Yeshua is your deliverer and that you trust in Him for eternal life. He promises the trusting heart: “I tell you the solemn truth, the one who hears my message and believes in the One who sent me has (i.e., present active indicative) eternal life and will not be condemned, but has passed over (literally, “crossed over”) from death to life” (John 5:24).

Note that the verb translated “has passed over” is “perfect active” that expresses completed action: “this one has already crossed over from death to life.” In other words, the gift of eternal life is an accomplished reality (though it is only experienced as we truly surrender to the love and grace of God from a heart of faith). The “basis” of life is now radically new and of a different order. As the apostle Paul later summarized: “For it is by grace you have been saved (i.e., a perfect passive participle that denotes completed action done on your behalf with effects that continue to the present) through faith, and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Eph. 2:9-10). I’m so glad it’s not the strength of my grip that keeps me holding on to God, but the strength of His...

So “be strong and of good courage” – chazak ve’ematz! The Lord our God promises “never to leave you nor forsake you” and to be with you wherever you go (see Josh. 1:5,9; Heb. 13:5, Psalm 139; Matt. 28:20). In the Greek New Testament, the wording of Hebrews 13:5 is highly emphatic: Οὐ μή σε ἀνῶ, οὐδ᾽ οὐ μή σε ἐγκαταλείπω: “Not ever will I give up on you; no, not ever will I leave you behind.” Alevai! May you hear the voice of the Good Shepherd calling you, and may He forever keep you under His watchful care. Amen.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Jeremiah 31:3b reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/jer31-3b-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/jer31-3b-lesson.pdf

5.21.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365

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

[equestrianempire]

Thursday News & Notes

We’re celebrating this leap year day with one of the most impressive and terrifying leaps in eventing – the leap of faith that is the Leaf Pit at Burghley. It’s one of those cross country fences that looks hella fun when I’m safely settled on my sofa enjoying the spectacle, but in real life – I’d want to be totally encased in around 24 layers of bubble wrap if I ever found myself looking down from the top of a horse up there, and for there to be a giant and generously-filled kids’ ball pit at the bottom, (also, ideally my mount would be more hobby horse than 5* fit eventer).

However you spend your bonus day, go eventing!

U.S. Weekend Preview

2024 $100,000 Conceal Grand-Prix Eventing Showcase at Bruce’s Field (Aiken, SC) [Website] [Entries] [Ride Times] [Ride For Charity Teams] [Ride For Charity Online Vote] [Volunteer] [Live Stream] [EN’s Coverage] Schedule – [03/01 8am-2pm EST Dressage] [03/01 3pm-5pm EST Show Jumping] [03/02 12:30pm-3pm EST Cross Country]

Full Gallop Farm March Wednesday H.T. (Aiken, SC) [Website] [Entries] [Ride Times] [Volunteer] [Scoring]

Rocking Horse Winter III H.T. (Altoona, FL) [Website] [Entries] [Ride Times] [Volunteer] [Scoring]

Sporting Days Farm March H.T. II (Aiken, SC) [Website] [Entries] [Ride Times] [Volunteer] [Scoring]

Twin Rivers Winter H.T. (Paso Robles, CA) [Website] [Entries] [Ride Times] [Volunteer] [Scoring]

International Events

Portuguese Spring Tour (Mata do Duque) [Timetable] [Entries] [Scoring] [Portuguese Eventing Association Facebook Page] [More Info]

Thursday News and Reading

For one day only – free registration for Equine Guelph’s online Introduction to Body Condition Scoring course. Learn how to assess your horse’s weight using the Henneke body condition scoring system and gain the tools you need to create an action plan based on the score. The course content is self-paced, around 15-20 hours and you get access for a full year. To benefit from the free registration offer, you need to sign up tomorrow (Friday March 1st).

As February draws to a close and we feel a sniff of spring in the air, Badminton approaches. Fences and camera crews and sponsors and tradestands and entries… it’s all going on at Badminton – read all about it in this month’s Director’s Blog.

Mistakes happen, of course they do – it’s what you do with them that counts. Rather than being embarrassed when we mess up, and going all defensive and blaming whoever and whatever is at hand, if we see our mistakes as opportunities, we’re more likely to grow from what went down rather than being weighed down by our whoopsie. Here’s some handy techniques for reaping the benefits that making mistakes can bring us.

Our choice of tack, and how we fit it, can be mighty controversial – there are so many opinions in the equestrian world. So it’s a good thing when actual scientific research is undertaken into the effect of tack on horse welfare, like this paper on nosebands and the increased stress levels horses display when they are fitted tightly, so much so that the report concludes: “On ethical grounds, the use of relentless pressure to eliminate oral behaviors in pursuit of a competitive advantage may be difficult to justify”.

Becoming unconsciously uncoupled from your horse is something we riders have to take on the chin from time to time – but when you’re analyzing it with your trainer or explaining your lame limp in the office, how do you phrase the fact that your horse basically dumped you? For all you horse/word geeks out there, here’s an interesting list of ways to describe hitting the deck. As an aside, I am in fact one of those ‘once in a blue moon’ riders who’ve come straight off the back of the horse – I call it the ‘didn’t-duck-under-the-tree-branch-quick-enough’ kind of fall.

And finally, as a champion of horses, books and awesome women, I couldn’t resist sharing this image of the Pack Horse Librarians in Kentucky. Traversing creek beds called Hell-for-Sartin, Troublesome, and Cut Shin, these tough gals took to horseback to deliver books and magazines to people who otherwise wouldn’t have access to reading materials. Let’s hear it for these inspirational horsewomen.

Video Break

A couple weeks ago I shared the story of Shariah Harris, who was trailblazing on the polo pitch as the first Black woman to play in the US Open Women’s Polo Championship. From a single-income household in inner-city Philadelphia, Shariah’s introduction to the sport began with a literal wrong turn – which led her directly to her destiny. When her mom accidentally took the wrong road, they came upon the Work to Ride site, a program which involves urban youth in equestrian sports, and the rest, as they say, is history. Which is what Shariah made as she took to the pitch recently in the US Open Women’s Polo Championship. About her role as trailblazer, she says, “The more exposure I attract the more others will see and follow, then I won’t be the only one anymore”. Check out Shariah’s story in today’s Video Break.

[rackartyg]

zanarai's playlist! below the cut, all the songs with the most relevant parts of the lyrics highlighted.

creature by half-alive

I am creation, both haunted and holy Made in glory

The World Ender by Lord Huron

I'm the World Ender, baby, and I'm coming for them They put me in the ground, but I'm back from the dead

I Deserve to Bleed by Sushi Soucy

I wanna take a knife and draw a line across my chest I wanna feel much better than I do when I am at my best I wanna fly away from my own skin and find a better place I wanna slash across what used to be my face

To Noise Making (Sing) by Hozier

Who could ask you be unbroken or be brave again? Or, honey, hope even on this side of the grave again? And who could ask you to be sound or to feel saved again? Just stick around until you hear that music play again

Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode

Reach out and touch faith

Body by Mother Mother

Take my eyes, take them aside Take my face, and desecrate My arms and legs, they get in the way And take my hands, they'll understand Take my heart, pull it apart And take my brain, or what remains And throw it all away

Theseus by The Oh Hellos

It's gonna hurt like hell to become well But if we set the bone straight It'll mend It'll fix And we'll be well

Wrecking Ball by Mother Mother

It takes a dedicated hand To put it through the wall You gotta wanna break the heart Of all those pretty porcelain dolls You gotta wanna be the drummer in the band You gotta wanna be a battering ram You gotta see the artistry In tearing the place apart with me, baby

Idolize by Dorian Electra

I don't play nice, I scratch, I bite And I just might have to idolize your life

Beautiful Times by Owl City

A bad feeling burned through the ceiling Leaving my healing heart with a new scar A dead fire rose and rose higher Like a vampire, up from the graveyard

I Fucked Yr Mom by Sorry Mom

And then, after that I took your mom home And I bent her over my desk And I fucked the shit out of your mom And god she fucking loved it I fucked your mom

EVIL by Melanie Martinez

If you bite my hand again I will never feed you, you can call me evil

Daisy by Ashnikko

Fuck a princess, I'm a king Bow down and kiss on my ring Being a bitch is my kink What the fuck else did you think?

Opiate by TOOL

My God's will becomes me When he speaks, he speaks through me He has needs like I do

The Cult of Dionysus by The Orion Experience

Yesterday I heard you say Your lust for life has gone away It got me thinking, I think I feel a similar way And that's sad, that's sad, that's sad So let's make a decision, start a new religion Yeah, we're gonna build a temple to our love

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths

Loathe the way they light candles in Rome But love the sweet air of the votives Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone Engage with the pain as a motive

Someone New by Hozier

And so I fall in love just a little, oh a little bit every day with someone new

Light of Love by Florence + The Machine

Well, the feeling was always too much for me It always came too strong I wanted to get it right so badly that I always got it wrong

Cannibal by Kesha

Whenever you tell me I'm pretty That's when the hunger really hits me Your little heart goes pitter-patter I want your liver on a platter

Hunger by Florence + The Machine

At seventeen I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn’t have to call it loneliness

[god-whispers]

jul 31

where is the promise of His coming?

"but you, daniel, shut up the words, and seal the book until the time of the end; many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall increase.” dan 12:4

i think we need to address the elephant in the room.  as many of you know, i have been on "extra" rapture watch during the last few days.  yes, i am always rapture oriented and i still believe it will be to fulfill something specific in scripture, perhaps yet revealed.  now it seems the widow anticipated is closing.  i will not apologize for getting excited about meeting my Lord, but i also think a bit of exclamation is needed and deserved by readers of mine.

we believe those "many" mentioned in the verse at the opening are the watchmen and the knowledge to be received will be the unsealing at the end, happening as they run "to and fro" through scripture.  it shall happen rapidly and many mistaken understandings shall occur.  but we have the Spirit of God as our guide and believe: "God has revealed them to us through His Spirit.  for the Spirit searches all things, yes, the deep things of God." 1 cor 2:10

did God know mistakes would be made beforehand?  "in that hour Jesus rejoiced in the Spirit and said, “I thank You, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that You have hidden these things from the wise and prudent and revealed them to babes.  even so, Father, for so it seemed good in Your sight." luke 10:21  so it seems we're babes and human babes and God always knew that.

if we just all keep going blithely along, saying "someday," where can anyone find urgency in that?  oh sure, perhaps the dedicated and committed, but the lazy and the laggards, probably not.  i've heard the watchmen called puppy bloodhounds learning to sniff among the dandelions.  and yes, some have been distracted with a wrong scent, but in reality it is the fragrance of Christ drawing us all.  they have spent hours searching the scriptures as admonished to do, and like Christ was, we esteemed them stricken, smitten by God.  i would say they are in good company as even our brethren are even now numbered among the scoffers and mockers?

what happens if the watchers don't warn?  "but if the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet, and the people are not warned, and the sword comes and takes any person from among them, he is taken away in his iniquity; but his blood I will require at the watchman’s hand." eze 33:6  could the sword not just as easily be described as the tribulation?  you see, the "watch" is not just to alert the saved what is quickly coming, but the lost as well.

i know there is not a watchman anywhere who would wish their forecasting wound anyone's faith.  but i would also wonder whether their faith has such shallow roots that it could be so easily uprooted.  i remember the parable about seed sowing and how it was received or rejected and i would ask: "can the watchman be held any more accountable for whether the seed grows or doesn't grow than the sower was?"  just as there are fair-weather friends there are fair-weather believers.  "you are saved, if you hold fast that word which i preached to you — unless you believed in vain." 1 cor 15:2  "now the Spirit expressly says that in latter times some will depart from the faith." 1 tim 4:1

"I go to prepare a place for you.  and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also." john 14:2-3  that promise from the Lord is still in effect.  i know many of us joined in the excitement of a possible rapture date.  i know i did and am i sorry it didn't happen?  exceedingly.  does that mean i will not "expect" another day?  definitely not.

do i believe He is still coming?  most definitely.  do i think it will somehow fulfill the typology and shadow laid out in the scripture?  yes.  "declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times things that are not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will do all My pleasure." isa 46:10  do i still believe it will be this year?  with all that is in me.  we still see "the day" approaching.  the times and signs abound, even the earth itself is groaning for deliverance.

i just got through watching "hacksaw ridge" again, for the second or third time.  it's about a conscientious objector who would serve as a medic only, carrying no gun.  i know war is usually categorized as between the good guys and the bad guys.  there may be a struggle between right and wrong, but that is often defined in one's own mind.  you see, scripture tells us, "no one is good but One, that is, God." mark 10:18

even after much abuse and ridicule from his own comrades, he managed to rescue 75 wounded from certain death.  he is quoted as repeatedly praying, "just let me save one more God."  he kept saying that while there was strength in his body and his own wounds kept him from continuing.

that's what we are should be praying, "just let me save one more God."  that's the goal we should all be living with as long as there is a breath in our bodies.  not just for the sake of each soul but for the glory of our God; because it is His desire that none should perish.

yes, even i was momentarily distracted (or attracted) during rapture high watch.  although i do daily updates on the website i maintain, once a month i update several pages as needed.  things usually done gradually throughout the month had taken a back burner.  as soon as the watch was over, i got busy.  you see, we occupy.  we do the assignment our Lord gave us.

many moons ago there used to be a show called, "this is your life," where all the people and deeds of your life were paraded before the cameras.  the life of private doss from hacksaw ridge was so paraded; showcasing deeds done and lives he had saved.  i wonder if that is what it will be like in the judgment and if our life will stand up as well as his did.  you see, he was a seventh day adventist.  his doctrine might not have matched many.  yes, there are several immutable truths we must hold to but all the rest are just man's differing opinion.  it is our relationship with our Lord that matters.

"test all things; hold fast what is good." 1 thes 5:21  be like the bereans in acts 17:11.  we don't throw the baby out with the bath water and we don't throw our faith out disappointments.  there will be disappointments in life and trials to refine us.  "but He knows the way that i take; when He has tested me, i shall come forth as gold." job 23:10  so if and when there is another "high watch," i will be watching again; watching for my Lord and yours.  one thing assured, we are one day closer!

[boythirteen]

I loved that you posted things all day. I found you everywhere. I love you. It was mostly a rainy day here and I read all your posts and finished writing my sermon and made a drawing, too. In the sermon I had to make the present tense be like it was past because of when I’ll be reading it to them. It doesn’t have a title yet.

SERMON Hello everyone. Thank you, Rev. Pat, for inviting me to preach today. I started writing this sermon from a motel room in Myrtle Beach, which is where Frances and I ended up on our bike trip. I remember preaching at almost this same time last year and telling everyone about our bike trip in Florida. But this year we didn’t go to Florida, mainly because the government in Florida hates lgbtq+ people, especially trans people, more overtly than most other states, and we didn’t want to be there. So, instead, we rode our bikes from here to Myrtle Beach, which was another kind of adventure that did include ugly things like confederate flags and Trump flags and Lets go Brandon signs. But supportive things, too, like Love is Love banners and gay flags and conscientious drivers who passed us with such care. This was a new feeling I had about cars passing around us on the narrow 2-lane roads, how some cars were gentle and others menacing like the wide trucks with revved up engines seeming to want to blow us off the edge. I don’t mean to stereotype but it simply was true that the revved up trucks were the aggressive ones. And something else I felt, an unsettling thing, was the implied threat in American flags and worse, in signs praising Jesus. Which were threats I’d been feeling already but in a starker way now, and with a more pronounced personal vulnerability. I felt more literally exposed. A few times along the way I had disturbing flashes of scenes from the movie Easy Rider, even. And when I took off my t-shirt to swim, when I bared my manly trans chest as I’ve always so loved to do, I felt an acute self-consciousness that alarmed me. I had a fearful sense that, because of anti-trans sentiment, people would be far more aware of what trans-masculine top surgery scars looked like and so would spot mine and be hostile to me. Which didn’t happen, though. And the trucks didn’t really blow us off the road. And no one was mean to us except once a teenager screamed faggot at me and a girl in a convertible VW bug with peace signs and flower decals all over it flipped us the bird as she passed by. Overall the bike trip was full of fun and sun and wholesome encounters and challenges and feelings of awe at creation. I’m telling you about the insecurities, too, because I think that all of this has something to do with the gospel verse about faith, or with my own relationship to faith that I can explore. Faith in God and in myself and in humanity.

This is the verse from Matthew:

Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone, and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it. Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear. But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”    

So, a lot of things have happened in this chapter before the verses we’re reading today. John the Baptist has been be-headed and Jesus has been told about it. Jesus tries to have a solitary time to process this but crowds of people follow him, becoming the multitude that Jesus feeds with the scant loaves and fishes. Then Jesus sends the disciples ahead in the boat and takes time alone on a mountainside. Then he walks on the water.

Something else about our bike trip was that we rode on ferries, 5 of them I think, and 2 of them that were really long rides. Which was kind of like riding bikes across the water, or like getting across the water in a miraculous way. And still another thing was the wind, how strong it was, and whether it was a head wind or a tail wind, and how it made so much difference which one. Riding the bike could either feel like flying or like pushing against a solid wall, or something in between. Mostly, for us, it felt like flying. Having the wind at one’s back is a wonderful thing to wish for people, I’ve learned. May the wind be ever at your back. But the wind in the gospel verse was a head wind.

The reading from I Kings also talks about wind. When Elijah is standing on the mountain waiting for God to pass by, a great and powerful wind {tears} the mountains apart and {shatters} the rocks before God, but God {is} not in the wind. God isn’t in the earthquake or the fire, either. God is a gentle whisper Elijah hears. Which seems, to me, to mean that God isn’t using dramatically elemental, external things to impress or overwhelm or intimidate Elijah, but is instead a gentle voice that Elijah can hear inside of himself. God is internal. And what stands out to me in the reading about Jesus walking on the water is that the faith—and lack of faith—being exemplified by Peter isn’t faith in Jesus’s power to do a miraculous thing, but Peter’s faith in himself to do it. Jesus doesn’t need Peter to believe in what Jesus is doing. Jesus is walking on the water whether Peter believes it or not. He’s not being a show-off about it, either, but is just calmly doing it almost absent-mindedly.  And Peter doesn’t fully believe anyway. He needs the proof of Jesus calling out to him to come. So Jesus says “come” and Peter walks on the water toward Jesus. But when Peter becomes afraid he starts to sink and cries out to Jesus to save him. And Jesus reaches out to him to save him and says: You of little faith. But Peter seems to have enough faith in Jesus’s ability to save him. He just doesn’t have enough to believe that he, Peter, can walk on the water, even after Jesus tells him to come and proves to him that yes, he actually can. Peter’s lack of faith is in himself, not in Jesus.

I keep running this around in my thoughts and kind of arguing with myself about it, though. I’m thinking to myself: But still Peter’s faith needed to be in Jesus initially, in a belief that Jesus’s power would enable Peter to walk on the water. It wasn’t a belief in some personal power Peter could find in himself to do it. Peter’s short-lived demonstration of faith required that Jesus be there to speak it, to say come.

But what if Peter’s belief in divine power and also in his own power are the same thing, the same belief, the same presence and/or absence of faith? Peter can do all things through Christ who strengthens him. We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. I think this is what’s revelatory. We have divinity inside of us and can believe in it and do all things. We can believe in ourselves because of believing in the divinity inside of us. This is our individual faith.

And we can have a collective faith in humanity, too, in our collective ability to do all things. I’m thinking of us as a whole perhaps being of greater faith collectively than we are individually, with all of us having differing measures of individual faith, sometimes with spurts of great individual faith like Peter’s first steps and other times with faith-shattering fear like Peter’s. It was fear that negated Peter’s faith and caused him to sink, so an aspect of faith must be that we face our fear. But when Peter’s fear overcomes him, Jesus steps in. And maybe we can step in for each other in instances when fear overcomes one of us.

Something on our trip that so moved me about people stepping in for each other was the bicycle policy of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. This is a bridge and tunnel construction that traverses 17 miles of the Chesapeake Bay but doesn’t allow bicycles to cross. Instead, the official policy is that bicyclists are to call ahead to say they’re coming, and a person in a van will meet them and load up the bikes and drive them across. The service is free. Our bike route took us to this point along the east coast where we were cared for by strangers in this way of being whisked  across the Chesapeake Bay almost like teleportation. But the even more amazing thing I learned was that there was also a special free service for anyone who felt afraid of driving across the long bridge. The driving service involved having someone from the bridge and tunnel agency step in and ride with the frightened person as the driver of their vehicle in their stead. Because maybe sometimes, instead of cheering on a person and having extra faith in them to do a thing that frightens them, the caring thing is to help them do the frightening thing, to let them have faith in you to help. Where your faith is hindered by fear, I will be confident for you, and you will offer me your faith in me to do what frightens you.

An even more touching instance of someone stepping in to help a frightened person was something I read online about a person on the autism spectrum posting on social media that they’d never been to a Subway restaurant before and were scared to go. They wished that someone could explain to them the process of ordering a Subway sandwich and what they would be asked to do by the server. So a caring person responded to their post in a matter-of-fact way of writing out a detailed, step by step instruction of what the server would ask and the different ways the scared person could respond, such as choosing 6 inches or 12 inches and what kind of bread and what kind of fillings and condiments and do you want a drink or not. And the scared person later reported back that they’d carefully followed the instructions and had successfully ordered a sandwich from Subway. They now believed that they could visit a Subway in the future and would follow the instructions and be ok. They were grateful for the kind help and also empowered by it, by their faith in it, and by their new faith in themselves to do it. And this is a story that was a welcome boost to my faith in humanity all around, and also gave me ideas about ways I could ask for such instructive help and could have faith in another’s willingness to step in for me and help me. And ways I could be called upon to give help to someone else, to let someone else have faith in me to help. I would want to be as plainly helpful as this example without any motive of changing the nervous person into a more daring one but simply filling in what they needed for their nervous self to move forward. A mingling and enlarging of our individual measures of faith. A balancing of faith.

I’m not sure if this what the gospel verse is talking about, but I feel led here by the verse. Whatever is happening in the verse from Matthew, it does involve differing measures and kinds of faith interacting with each other. Also, I think I’ve been influenced by the Barbie movie to not need everyone to be exceptionally confident. Is faith the same as confidence? I think so, or it’s something very much like it. But we went to see the Barbie movie on our bike trip at an especially magical place called Emerald Isle after having ridden through a desolate marshy area that felt so far away from safety to me, and with little towns scattered in between the marshes with occasional Confederate flags waving from the porches and no gay flags at all. I felt heavy with existential anxieties like Barbie was feeling. And then I felt lightened and healed to a great degree by sharing my feelings with Barbie. I’m not kidding. I remember after the movie was over and we were standing up from our seats and I said to Frances that I truly felt helped by the movie. And just then I caught the eye of a man sitting behind us with a group of older people and knew that he’d heard what I said. And I think I saw him smiling inside himself about me being helped as if he’d been helped by Barbie, too.    

But l want to think more about what it means to have abundant confidence, or faith. Is faith a belief in someone’s power to do particular things? If I have faith in you to do something, it means that I confidently believe that you can certainly do it. And we can also have faith in our own power to do things. Faith in ourselves. Yes I can, yes I can, yes I can. To have faith in God means to believe in God. Great faith is a combination of confidence and belief. But do you believe in faith in a literal way? I mean do you believe that a person can literally move mountains with faith the size of a mustard seed? That they can walk on the water or fly through the air if they just can believe in themselves enough? Is faith a potential for exhibiting an exceptional ability like a supernatural power? I know that throughout my life I’ve read or been told or otherwise led to believe that human beings are only using a fraction of their brain power, that somehow studies show that we have unused parts or under-used parts of our brains, that we can’t even imagine what we might achieve with a wholly confident application of our total brain potential. Maybe it’s an evolutionary thing that will happen to us if we get to evolve more on the earth, if we haven’t already gone too far with abusing the natural world because of how greedy we are. Do you think we’ve already gone too far? But that’s a different topic. But maybe our development of greater faith will be what allows us to change course and heal the earth.

Someone I follow on Instagram, a drag queen performer, is often highlighting instances of bigotry and ignorance on their page and calling for the hateful, stubborn people to evolve already! Maybe when we can evolve enough to love each other we will also be able to walk on the water like Jesus.

Do you ever think of Jesus as being a kind of prototype of an evolved human being? That all of Jesus’s compassion and healing power and other miracle-working and insight and connection to loving creation, to God, are ways that all of us are meant to be? That Jesus is the example to follow but also the model of who we’re designed to ultimately be.

Sometimes I think of Jesus as being an Alien Being sent by God the Creator to steer us from our selfish ways and set us on this evolutionary path. I don’t believe it’s disrespectful of Jesus or God or humanity to imagine Jesus as an Alien Being akin to us but far more fully evolved. Is it? I’m trying to exercise confidence in my own thought processes but am prone to doubt them, too. I wonder how everyone else envisions God. Do you see God as a solid being or more as a misty kind of force or invisible force that permeates everything? Do you have a certain image of God or is God an overall sense of something that doesn’t have a form? Something too vast and mind-boggling for our thoughts to contain, like infinity. Does the awesomeness of something like infinite space inspire you to confidently believe in God?

Do you believe that we’ve encountered aliens on the earth and that the government is hiding it from us? Why aren’t we talking more about this? Would knowing about it change anything? Has the world gotten so weird now that aliens aren’t even that interesting to us? I feel worried about how we might have been treating them, if we actually have had close encounters. That we aren’t being open enough to be awed and excited and welcoming. That we’ve been treating them like undesirable others, like Greg Abbott is treating immigrant people. Evolve already, Greg Abbott!

Something I came across recently was a report about time and how new research has determined that time has fits and starts and isn’t a smooth thing. I can’t find the source of this now and am not sure if I’m mis-remembering it or getting it wrong altogether, but something I do remember is someone commenting that they didn’t understand the physics of this new research at all, but did feel inspired by it to just be awed by the miraculous mechanics of creation. When I was in Myrtle Beach the first day, I walked on the beach access walkway to the end where I could look out onto the ocean. A group  of women were gathered there who seemed to me to be lesbians, which was a plus, and one of them was looking out on the ocean, too, and turned to me and said God’s creation. And we shared a moment of awe at this, a moment of faith. Maybe being faithful is also being amazed. It’s when something almost like fear, like a gasp, turns into amazement. Maybe fear, instead of always being an antithesis to faith, is something that can also inspire faith. In the reading from Matthew, the disciples in the boat are first terrified and then amazed by what transpires—by Jesus walking on the water, by Peter’s moment of walking on the water, by Jesus’s reaching out to save Peter, by the wind subsiding when Jesus enters the boat. This amazement is what forms the basis of their belief in Jesus as the Child of God. It isn’t confidence that forms their faith. It’s awe, or more specifically, fear transformed into awe. Maybe something we can do, as well as working on our confidence and sharing our measures of faith with each other and evolving together, is just let our fears turn into awe and be amazed more. That’s my prayer for everyone right now. That we feel awe-struck more than afraid.

Amen

[freydis-freydat]

On any other day, it probably would have made her laugh for more than one reason. Dully, she appreciated the irony in his statement. Normally she might have pointed out that even someone so distanced from the Vanguard as herself could recognize he hardly gave the impression of a faithful acolyte. He hadn’t even bothered to wear his robes. Instead, her eyes merely drifted from the ground to look upward toward his face as she pressed him back, seriously and unseriously all at once, “You’ll have to let me know what my penance is.” She was quiet for a few more moments, her mind lingering on how he never struck her as someone who would hold much interest in the Vanguard, and it drew her to a deeper question. “Why did you reveal yourself to me on the way to Nornwatch?” she asked, looking at him more directly. There was likely little risk in it for him, to take a gamble and display his ability to someone he outsized and could easily overpower toward the very back of the line. She doubted he knew who she was at the time, not that her station alone could have saved her. If he had wanted her dead, she would have been, she had no misconceptions about that. “You could have shown anyone. Or no one.” 

A moment later, her upright posture was abandoned again and she shrunk visibly as she stared at the patch of grass before her as if it held any of the answers she sought. She considered what he suggested to her, and realistically she knew it made sense as some thread in a grand design–but the version of herself who resided across the veil seemed so much more than Freydis could ever begin to conceive. “I suspect it’s both. And I don’t know that I'm afraid that my soul is wasted,” she responded quietly, her voice faltering a moment later as she put words to a fear she had been harboring for days, “but I’m afraid that I was brought back this time without some of the most important pieces.” 

Freydis turned her face away from him sharply. His question brought back too many of the images of how the Arches had challenged her, and she did not want him to see or read into the expressions they caused as she sifted through them to consider how to answer him. “All of those things,” she answered after some time. “Least with what I saw. Only slightly more with Nintra,” she continued. “Myself, the one from the veil, disclosed that to defeat Nintra and break the pact with her, I need to draw her to the mortal realm and slay her.” She wrung her hands together anxiously, still not looking at him. “I’m worried the ways I’ve changed are anchored to Nintra, too, though. If they are…” She trailed off, finally looking at him, her resolve to dispatch the archfey suddenly a thing of the wayside. Perhaps she had not changed so much after all, maybe she was still desperate to cling to what power she could bring to herself with every fiber of her being, even when it would open the door to her own ruin. 

“Much of it was a warning for our world,” she continued. “She recognized something within me–or, well, more of a symbol branded onto me, and seemed to understand something when she saw it, but she didn’t say what.” She sorely regretted not asking. “When I made it through, I asked what I was meant to do.” She had been told to live, but that was such a loaded directive. “She said she thought I was destined to return to the arches in Iskaldrik, but that the Dark One needed to be dealt with first. She said it is raising an army greater than those we’ve heard about in folklore and history, and that he isn’t alone. That he has agents, informants, everywhere.” She looked nervous, frightened. “And I saw… Us… those of us who were taken by the brood, who wear the same brand as I do. And a man–but I don’t–” She shook her head, eyes searching his in desperation for any answers he might have from elvhen lore or mythos of the Vanguard. 

“She renamed me, told me I was of the arches. That I was clean of my worldly bonds and clean in heart and soul.”  She barked out a cynical laugh at that–she felt as human and needing as ever. “And then she told me to fight and live.” She glanced off for a moment, not looking at him as she murmured, “I sound insane, don’t I?”

Her hands lifted to her face when he told her that what had been done would not be for nothing. Freydis couldn’t bear to let him see the way someone else putting words to her fears that what she had sacrificed when given the choice of which life she wished to live or the son she left behind in the Arches may have been for nothing could break her in two at the mere suggestion, even if he did frame it in the positive. After some time, she dropped her hands, though it had been a thin and insufficient disguise for her tears. “I hope not,” she whispered, staring ahead numbly. “But I’m no druid,” she assured him, eyes floating to meet his again. “I don’t understand what I am…”

"If you feel like you need to atone, then who better to take your confession?" It was a good joke, a great joke, really – a Vanguard of the Light in front of the woman who felt like her legacy needed to be atoned for. Perhaps that was putting it simply, but he figured there was a lot that came with the title of Jarl. It held on to old customs, but the Elvhen were so stuck in their ways as well, it was a usual thing. Either way, Eivor wasn't exactly as dedicated to the One God as others in the Vanguard were – he believed in the old Elvhen gods. Purging magic users from Taravell; they could be a brutal bunch, but Eivor liked to think it was the perfect way for him to uphold some sort of justice towards witches. But Jarl – it was built on the back of hate of the other, and he could see in the way Freydis' attitude had changed over time that this was something she had been guilty of through association and inaction. The world had made her decision for her, however, with Aetheron imploding the society itself.

Eivor had a funny attitude towards memories, the gaping holes in his own, the fact that he'd had a different name long ago, that the ring on his finger that held autumn leaves and a blue stone being the last thing that held a tether to Avalon, a place he'd never get to see. For now, though, as she spoke, Eivor's mind wandered along with what she said. "Souls are not wasted, Freydis. What you saw was...had to be perhaps a life long lived before, do you think? Or one that was shown to you for a purpose?" She explained the arches once more, and the druids were – secretive, to say the least. None spoke of their time within and without. He could see that it had taken a heavy toll, and he couldn't blame her for how weighty these memories seemed. Eivor's were filled with static, with pain – centuries of torture to tear apart and put back together; his empathy was new to him, and it curled in his stomach. He hated it. "Did these missives have to do with what you saw? Or what you need to do with Nintra?" Maybe he was misunderstanding, or her missives were to deal with what she saw and experienced in the arches. "Or what you needed to accomplish within? Whatever it is, the druids come out with a connection to their abilities. If it's ignored, their own memories are ignored, their power fades. Whatever it's done to you – it won't be for nothing."

[monocaelia]

inazuma bound headcanons

their last goodbyes before you depart to the land of eternity.

feat. childe, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, xiao

warnings : inazuma spoilers, slight angst but mainly fluff

❀ childe

despite inazuma being a place not many have ventured to and from, childe isn't the slightest worried for your safety. he knows the dangers of the storming seas surrounding inazuma and of the situation the people of inazuma are in due to the vision hunt decree.

but he prides in the fact that you're strong enough to handle what inazuma has to offer to you. abyss, you've defeated him in battle, there's no way you can't handle a little thunderstorm.

the cheerful chirp of your name alerts your attention to the ginger haired harbinger as he approaches you on the streets of liyue harbor. you raise an eyebrow at him, knowing full well that he shouldn't be here and should be stationed at dragonspine.

before you can scold him about his responsibilities, he scoops you into his arms and spins you around. his laughter rings in your ears and you can't help but smile. any and all thoughts of being mad at him are washed away as soon as his eyes meet yours.

the rest of your day is spent with him, as he won't be able to see you off before your trip to inazuma. he buys you trinkets, food, slings an arm around your shoulders all so you could be reminded of him and how fun it is to spend time with him.

"you know, it's a shame i wasn't stationed in inazuma next. i would have loved to explore it with you and fight at your side for a while longer," childe muses to you as the streets of liyue begin to light up for the evening. his hand is in yours and you squeeze it in reassurance.

"i'll miss you, a lot." your heart swells at his words, pulling him into a comforting embrace. your lips curve into a smile when his arms tighten themselves around you and you can't help but think that you'll miss him too.

"don't forget to send me letters about your visit to inazuma! or else i'll go over there and hunt you down myself, [name]!"

❀ diluc

diluc is not too thrilled to hear that you're departing to inazuma. not that he has anything against the nation, but he knows how hard it is to enter and leave and he knows of the situation the people under the shogunate are in.

but he isn't going to harp you on making sure you can protect yourself. he has faith in you that you'll have a safe voyage over and stay alive while on your journey in the land of eternity. he's seen you singlehandedly defeat and restore dvalin; there's no need to worry about your wellbeing.

his hand brushes against your cheek, moving the hair that curtained your slumbering face. you look so peaceful, so at ease resting against his lap as if you aren't about to set off overseas with no guarantee of your safe return.

you stir from your short slumber, leaning into his touch and diluc cannot help the small smile forming on his lips. "did you sleep well?" he asks, watching you as you slowly get up from his lap. you hum in response and stretch your limbs.

"have you finished packing for your trip?" diluc's question earns a slight frown from you and he raises an eyebrow. "you didn't finish preparing for inazuma, even though you're leaving soon?" diluc's assumption is proven correct when you begin twiddling your fingers and struggling to find a good excuse.

a sigh leaves his lips, getting up and offering you a hand. you bashfully take it. diluc hoists you up and you let out a little laugh when he sends an unamused frown your way. "i'm sorry! i was supposed to finish my preparations today, but i wanted to see you before i had to go."

it's a good thing that diluc has a soft spot for you, otherwise he would have given you the scolding of a lifetime. instead, he gently grasps your hand and flicks your forehead with his free hand before leading you inside the dawn winery so you could properly prepare for your journey overseas.

"i can't accompany you to inazuma, unfortunately, but i'll wish you a safe journey. take care, [name], i'll see you when you return."

❀ kaeya

kaeya is intrigued when you tell him that you'd be leaving for inazuma anytime soon. it's not often that people willingly want to enter storming seas and a land that isn't fond of people traveling to and from.

if anything, kaeya wants to tag along and fight by your side in inazuma. there's not much to do in mondstadt anyways. with jean and diluc keeping everyone in check kaeya didn't really have anything to do besides stir up some drama between the people of mondstadt or provoke enemies of mondstadt.

but he knows that shirking from his duties as captain of the calvary just to accompany you to inazuma wouldn't fare well with jean.

"i'm sad to see that our journey together ends here," kaeya tells you during your final visit to angel's share, for a while anyways. you roll your eyes and gently shove him with your shoulder. you know he's trying to pull at your strings from the way his sapphire eye glimmers in mischief.

"it's not going to be forever, you know. i'll be back before you know it," you reply, taking a sip of your drink. "you're acting like i'm going to inazuma and dying there." you bite back a smile when kaeya sighs dramatically and leans his entire bodyweight on you. a groan leaves your lips from the pressure.

"it's like i can still hear their voice." you snort and shove kaeya off of you, earning a snicker from the taller male. "say, [name], why don't we leave the bar and have a night of our own? just the two of us before you leave."

you pretend to ponder at his question for a moment, but say yes. you don't miss the way his lips curl into a feline smile, or the way his hand encases your own as he leads you out of the tavern and into the chilly evening of mondstadt.

but the chill doesn't bother you. not with kaeya's warm hand intertwined with yours as the two of you laugh and chatter in the warm glow of the street lamps lining the streets.

"are you sure you don't want me to tag along? wouldn't want you to miss me, haha. come back soon. don't keep me waiting."

❀ kazuha

knowing you're about to take off to the nation he escaped from puts him on edge, if he's being honest here. he knows of how brutal raiden shogun can be, stealing the visions of the innocent so she can remain eternal.

yet, seeing the reassuring smile adorning your face calms his nerves. he knows of your strength, of the rumors and tales of you fighting a dragon and a fatui harbinger, but he can't help but worry nonetheless.

his hand gently grasps your own, his fingers drawing shapes along the curves of your knuckles and brushing over the callouses that have formed on your fingertips. your head rests atop his shoulders as the two of you sit on the deck of the crux underneath the stars.

"is something on your mind?" you ask when he pauses in his ministrations. kazuha sighs, pausing briefly before replying to you.

"will you be okay? alone in inazuma, i mean. my homeland is a beautiful and wonderful place, but there is a corrupt and unjust leader ruling over it. i fear you'll be harmed and-"

"and you won't see me again?" you smile and pull away to meet your companion's gaze. there is a storm of worry in kazuha's ruby eyes and you hold his jaw in your hand, thumb rubbing calming circles on his cheek when he leans into your touch and holds your wrist.

"i'm stronger than you think, you've seen that firsthand. i'll be okay, kazuha." your reassuring words seemingly relax the inazuman traveller, but you can still sense the uncertainty surrounding him.

kazuha presses a gentle kiss against your inner palm before sliding his hand up to interlock your hands together.

"should anything happen to you, the wind will guide us together and i shall protect you. stay safe, dear [name]."

❀ xiao

xiao is a bit... unsettled when you give him the news that you're leaving for inazuma in a few days. it isn't often that you get to see him due to his job as one of liyue's yakshas and your travels across teyvat's lands.

he knows you'll be okay in inazuma, but he has no jurisdiction nor power in inazuma. his responsibility lies in liyue and he cannot leave until his duty to protect the nation of contracts has been fulfilled. yet, he wants to accompany you so he can assure your safety and survival against the stormy seas of inazuma.

"oh, there you are," your voice calms the worrying adeptus, even more so when your presence is beside him. he doesn't respond to you verbally, but he spares you a glance before fixing his gaze back to guili plains.

there's a comfortable silence between the two of you, neither of you feeling the need to speak up. but xiao's gentle voice breaks it with a statement you've been anticipating. "it's not too late to stay in liyue so i can dispose of those who harm you."

you turn to face him, not surprised at all to see his piercing eyes already staring at you. "i have to, i need to find my sibling and meeting the shogunate is the only way forward." his lips form a thin line at your answer.

your fingers inch forward to touch xiao's hand; he flinches when your fingers graze his out of instinct. but he grasps your hand before it can retreat, squeezing it as if it would make you stay beside him.

but he knows you have to go, have to find answers on the whereabouts of your sibling even if it meant risking your life.

"if i can't protect you, promise me you'll protect yourself. if you were to get hurt... forget it. just make sure you stay alive."

[lillianastras]

“Hit Me With Your Best Shot” -- The Darkling x Reader

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader (no surprise here)

Warnings: none, I think

Summary: The Darkling and his second spar in the morning, after he starts to doubt her abilities have worsened over time.

A/N: I feel so great that I actually used my own experience in martial arts for writing this. Also, I’m so empowered by all the great feedback I’m getting from you guys. If anyone has requests, please send those my way!

“Rule number one,” he says, “Only take a break after saying you need a break. Otherwise I won’t know and will wipe the ground with you.” Her eyebrows shoot up and he has to fight a smile, glad he caused the reaction. “Rule number two,” he continues, hands behind his back, his wrists wrapped in cloths, to numb the harshness of his blows. “No Small Science. Whatever you do to me, you do it with your own two hands.” “That was just plain filthy.”

This time Aleksander grits his teeth, not appreciating the interruption. She is standing in the middle of the training grounds, arms crossed in front of her chest, the same irritated expression on her face since she had woken up. He could tell she was looking around, looking for an opportunity, an excuse to leave. Yet, there is little chance that anyone else is up this early, except by the pair of guards by the gate.

“The Drüsskele attacks are getting more aggressive than ever,” he hisses , trying his best not to raise his voice at her. “You need to know how to defend yourself when they hold your hands apart.”  It’s not happening again, he thinks. The years have passed, but even time didn’t manage to blur the memory of Luda bleeding out on the ground. “I know how to defend myself!” She hisses back, and the Darkling gives her a cold stare.

“Ivan said he managed to tackle you to the ground several times yesterday.”

Her lips curl in disdain, but not for Ivan, he knows. She likes the Heartrender probably as much as he does, which came as a surprise at the start. He is rude and harsh, but even he manages to crack the occasional smile to two in her presence. That’s just how she is.

No, he thinks, the grimace just proves the truth in his words. Her skills had deteriorated, and she needs to get herself together. For her own good.

“Ivan is bigger than me,” she mumbles, but her eyes are staring at the ground. Even she realises this is a poor excuse, if any excuse at all. 

“They are always going to be bigger than you. And I might not be there to have your back at all times.” It might not matter, he thinks bitterly, and his hands ball into fists, even if I am.

“Alright.” The easy agreement comes as a surprise, although easy might be an understatement. She gave her best efforts to keep him in bed this morning with gentle caresses, suggestive whispers and kisses down his neck. But still, he had dragged her outside as quickly as he could and she was sour ever since.  “Let’s see if you get to wipe the ground with me.” She adds and he knows he managed to annoy her.

She takes her battle stance, her guard up and the Darkling sighs, eyes turning to look around. The sun is starting to rise higher in the sky and he realises he has little time left, just because no, Aleksander, you cannot ruin my reputation by throwing me around in front of everyone. Soon, people would start waking up, ready to start the day and they would have to leave training for tomorrow, when he would have to bring himself to say no to her advances again and… No. They have to start today.

She raises her eyebrow at him, challenge barely veiled, and he takes a deep breath, letting the thrill of the upcoming fight wash over him.

His first punch is not that fast, he knows, and she manages to dodge it with ease. Her elbow slams in his chest in return and was most probably going do force the air from his lungs if he hadn’t tensed. He is forced a step back. When he looks at her, there’s a small cold smirk growing on her face. She isn’t that out of practise after all. The Darkling squints his eyes and starts to pay more attention.

This time she doesn’t wait for him to charge, and when she aims her foot for between his legs, he knows he had touched a nerve. He blocks the kick with his forearm, but he doesn’t bother stop the grin that is slowly stretching on his face. Quick as a cat, he closes the distance between them, taking a tight hold of her wrists, their faces so close she could head-butt him in the nose if she wanted to.

“Is that why you’re so irritable all morning,” he asks, letting out a quiet grunt when she stomps on his foot, but he doesn’t let go. “Because I wouldn’t sleep with you?” This time he manages to move his foot in time and she groans as she misses. “For real?”

“No,” she answers quickly, too quickly, and he grins even wider, because her reaction is so petty, that he can’t really help himself. “You’re putting way too much faith in your ability to —” 

He doesn’t let her finish and puts his foot behind hers, giving her a harsh push. She looses her balance and falls ass first on the muddy ground, shock written on her beautiful face.

He grins down at her, reaching out a hand to help her up. She finally comes back to her senses and looks around, her pants and shirt far from clean, mud covering her hands. She grits her teeth and whispers something under her breath, and Aleksander recognises Ivan’s name, followed by a string of curses. She then glares up at him and stands up on her own, ignoring his open hand. 

“Again,” she demands, squinting her eyes against the reddish strays of the morning sun. The Darkling attacks again, this time not holding back as much as the first time. 

He doesn’t realise how much time passes, punches delivered and blocked from both of them, until they are both panting messes, sweat dripping from their foreheads and sticking strands of hair to their skin. Aleksander allowed himself a moment of distraction, glancing around the training grounds. The palace was slowly coming back to life, voices heard from inside and the occasional kefta-clad figure running around the place.

“Scared someone will see that you’re getting your ass kicked?” Her guard is up and he can’t see the shit-eating grin that is plastered on her face, but he can practically hear it. It’s amazing what an hour of good sparring can do for one’s mood.

“You wish,” he calls back. “Final round?”

“I thought you’ll never ask.”

A smile creeps its way on the Darkling’s face. He takes slow, careful steps to the side, circling her, and her eyes follow him, not even blinking. Yet she is too focused on his movements that she doesn’t notice him close the distance at all. Just like he intends. 

She is so surprised by the sudden attack, that she barely fights back when he grabs her wrist and gives her a harsh tug. He bends it behind her back in a swift motion, enough to trap it between his body and hers. 

His free hand goes straight for her throat, fully pressing her back against him.

She tries to wriggle out of his grasp, but he presses her forearm slightly upwards and she hisses in pain, giving the hand that is wrapped around her throat a few quick taps, to let him know she surrenders. He stops the pressure on her arm, but doesn’t let go just yet. He leans in, his breath tickling her ear. “Not too bad,” he whispers, and he has to remind himself that they are out in public, “but you still have much to learn.”

She finally releases her, and grins when she turns around and her eyes are a little hazy. She takes a deep breath and when her gaze finds his, she shakes her head at his smirk, her hand rubbing her wrist to dissolve any pain.

“Careful General,” she lowers her voice to a whisper and theatrically looks around, as if to make sure no one is listening. “Someone might actually see you smile.” She sighs. “Can we call this a draw?”

He outright laughs at her audacity. “A draw? You didn’t win even one round!”

“I disagree.” She shakes her head and gives him a cocky raise of her eyebrow and a wave of her hand.“Plus that last one was hardly fair.”

His gaze hardens. Even though the last round really was more playful than aggressive, he had managed to disarm her and have the upper hand after all. If it wasn’t his hand around her throat, she’d be dead. She needed the practice.

As though she reads his mind, she rolls her eyes. “I won’t admit that you were right.”

He snorts a humourless laugh. He doesn’t really expect her to.  “But we continue tomorrow.” It’s neither a request, nor a question. It’s an order from a General to his warrior.

She sighs and he knows she’s about to murmur some complaint. Shockingly, gives in with a shake of her head and after a long observation of her clothes, ruined from the mud, she mutters a quiet. “You’re the boss.”

He grins. “I’m the boss.”