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before-we-get-started · 3 years

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Safe Landing

One shot that is my entry to @what-is-your-plan-today’s #CATFA 10th Anniversary Challenge

Story: You’re facing the most difficult time of your life and you’re doing it without the person that means the most to you. Will your seatmates on an important flight help you make it through?

Pairing: Steve Rogers & Ransom Drysdale x Reader (plus a surprise special appearance!)

Warnings: Bad language, light smut, angst

10,000+ words

There’s not going to be a safe landing.

It was the unknown that was the hardest. The what if. What if you’d taken the time to slow down? What if you’d given more than you took? What if you’d appreciated it, not taken it for granted, not just assumed that it would always be there?

You were alone now. You didn’t have anyone. It was probably what you deserved. You’d persevere, you always had, but knowing you wouldn’t have to if you’d been better caused your heart to clench.

The longest flight of your life was coming to an end, and you considered the travelers making this journey with you by chance. You’d all shared a row on the plane that was taking you to meet your fate. One - cynical, crass, growing up longing to be loved, incapable of committing, but under it all, possessing a fierce loyalty for those he deemed worthy. The other – a gentle, loving soul, committed to service with honor and willing to give all, not just for those he loved, but for the greater good. They were complete strangers who had seeped into your soul, spirits that would forever fill you, thoughts of them making you smile.

For better or worse, they’d helped you navigate the mine field that was your future. Now you’d endure the unbearable wait, the long walk, watching others unite with loved ones, hoping that maybe, despite all odds, there would be a reunion for you too. You hoped the soul-soothing moments you’d shared with these two travelers over the last three hours would ease you into whatever awaited you at the airport gate.

Despite everything, you wished he’d be there.

Three hours earlier

“Thank you for flying National Airlines.” You forced a smile at the flight attendant as you boarded the plane. It was going to be a full flight and you were stuck in a middle seat. Appropriate, given the mood you were in. You waited impatiently as everyone made their way down the aisle, hoisting bags that were too large to fit in the overhead, straps smacking you as they did. You pitied your seat mates. You were in no mood for idle conversation. Your temper was wearing thin.

Finally reaching row 12, you were thrilled that no one else had arrived. You plopped into your seat, pulled out your compact and opened it, and grimaced as you took a quick look. There were circles under your eyes, telling everyone you’d not slept well for days. You’d definitely lost your sparkle. You swiped some powder over your nose and ran gloss over your lips, something to make you look less stressed. You opened your backpack and got a whiff of your grandmother’s scent. You ran your hand over her letter, lingering. With a sigh, you took the cell phone, headphones and book out of your bag, tucked the letter into the book and stowed the bag under the seat in front of you. You found your seat belt and clicked it, giving it a tug. Whoever was sitting by the window would have to step around you, you weren’t getting up again. Music on, book open, you pushed all the sad and empty thoughts aside and got lost in another world.

Within a couple of minutes, you heard shouting and pulled off your headphones.

You looked up to see a tall man in a blue cashmere sweater and gray silk trousers with his finger in the face of an attendant.

“Let me tell you something. You don’t know who you’re fucking with. Drysdales don’t fly fucking coach – ever. I’ll sue you and I’ll own this stupid airline.”

“Mr. Drysdale, I’m sorry. This was the seat that was chosen when the ticket was purchased,” said the flight attendant in a surprisingly calm manner. “This is a full flight and there is no room for you to upgrade to first class. And despite what you may think, I had absolutely nothing to do with how the ticket was booked, nor do I have any ability to change the fact that you are in seat 12D. Now, can I help you stow your bag? I’ll have a cocktail cart here for you soon.”

You thought he might continue the fight, but he didn’t. Instead he slammed his jacket down on the seat next to you and made a show of slinging his bag into the overhead, muttering a string of expletives the entire time. Then he looked down at you.

“Just fucking awesome,” he said angrily, picking his jacket up and wedging into the seat. He was tall and he worked to figure out how to fit his long legs in the legroom designated for the impoverished that were banished to coach. He sighed in disgust, his knees against the seat tray.

You studied him for just a second, not wanting to stare. He had a strong profile, chiseled jawline, dark blonde hair perfectly styled. His skin was gorgeous, with a slight hook in his nose. You looked down and caught how his biceps were stretching the sweater a bit and his big hands with long slender fingers settled in his lap. He smelled of expensive cologne – musky and woody, and he probably had a cigarette before he came into the airport. He laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. You took the hint and put your headphones back in, finding the folded page corner in your book.

Within a minute or so, you were aware of a buzz among the other passengers. You paused the music and pulled out a headphone, looking around and listening.

“I’m certain that’s him,” whispered the woman behind you.

“No way. There’s no way Captain America is sitting in coach,” said her husband.

“Do you think he’d take a selfie with me?” said their daughter.

You couldn’t see anything down the aisle and certainly didn’t want to stretch into your neighbor’s seat space given his attitude about having to fly with the peasants. No need to stress about it though, because the overhead light was suddenly blocked out by an incredibly wide set of shoulders. The tall blonde man looming over top of you in the aisle took your breath away. Ice blue eyes, those shoulders as broad as a building, a t-shirt that was screaming to break free from the massive pecs, abs and biceps it struggled to cover, and jeans that hugged his tree trunk thighs. You weren’t sure how this guy made it through the door of the plane, let alone how he was going to fit into a seat.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Mr. Attitude next to you. “I’m the window.”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” said Mr. Drysdale.

The blonde adonis just smiled and apologized again. “Sorry, I should’ve already been seated, I got held up in security.”

The crab apple next to you rose and stepped out into the aisle. They were both the same height, and you took a long look, your breath catching in your throat. There was a lot of handsome man standing in the aisle, and they were getting ready to make a hottie sandwich out of you. You quickly unsnapped your seatbelt and stood so the blonde god could get past.

“Hi,” he said, a smile that revealed his pearly whites taking your breath away again. “I’m so sorry, promise you won’t have to get up again.”

“No worries,” you barely squeaked out as that incredible ass in those tight jeans brushed past and slipped into the window seat. You sat down, your arms at your sides, absolutely no room on the armrests for you with all of this man surrounding you. Holy shit.

You looked to your left and the blonde extended a hand. “Steve Rogers,” he said, that million watt smile on again.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, feeling the warmth and strength of his hand. How in the hell had you ended up on a flight next to Captain America? You didn’t think anything could change your mood, but maybe you were wrong.

He extended his hand across you to the aisle seat occupant. “Steve Rogers,” he said in his sexy baritone. Mr. Drysdale raised an eyebrow in annoyance and hesitated, then quickly shook his hand. “Ransom Drysdale. And I shouldn’t be sitting in this seat,” he said sourly.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you and grinned, unsure what to think about your seatmate. You shrugged and smiled.

“We’ve been cleared for takeoff. Be sure your seatbelts are fastened, all items are stowed and tray tables are up. We’ll be taxiing out to the runway in a few minutes.” The flight attendant walked up the aisle, making sure all the overhead compartments were secure.

You were glad you had pulled what you needed from your bag when you sat, because it would take a can opener to pry you out of your seat at this point. You opened the book again and tried to concentrate on the words. Captain Rogers was settling into his seat, turning off his cell phone and trying to pull the seatbelt around his waist. With some effort, you finally heard it click.

“These seats are incredibly tight. I’ve never flown coach before. It’s crazy how little room there is.”

“Tell me about it,” said Ransom, rolling his eyes. “When I get home, I’m firing my assistant over this reservation and making sure no one else will ever hire her,” he snarled.

You tried looking back and forth during the conversation, enjoying the view, but even that movement was difficult.

“So I thought Avengers traveled by quinjet,” you said to the captain.

He smiled at you. “We normally do, but I had to get out of town quickly and there wasn’t one available. My wife is having early labor pains and I need to get to her as soon as I can.” There was worry in his blue eyes.

“Oh, I love your wife,” you said. “She’s amazing. She has raised so much money with her foundation, done so much for so many. She’s an inspiration, and a badass,” you added.

He chuckled. “Well, her badass days are behind her. Being a mom kind of makes that difficult.”

You smiled at him and shook your head. You were conversing with Captain America about his family. Had this day taken a turn or what?

“I can’t believe they couldn’t find you a private plane or something,” said Ransom. “I would’ve bitched to the airline if I were you.”

“It’s hard to find air transportation right now with all the events happening here and the weather cancelling flights. I’m just grateful that I got what I got. The doctors gave her something to slow her labor so I should get there in plenty of time,” said Steve.

“It’s your second, right?” you said.

“Yes, we have a son.”

“Do you know what you’re having?” you asked.

He smiled broadly, all the way to his eyes. “It’s a girl,” he said, and you thought about what a lucky little girl she was to have a daddy so thrilled to be having her. It wasn’t that way for everyone.

The plane jerked a bit as it began backing away from the gate. You laid your head back against the seat, fighting the anxiety that was suddenly overtaking you. You’d only flown a once before and you’d found taking off and landing nearly more than you could take. On that flight, he was with you, his hand over yours, whispering in your ear that it would be ok and “I’ve got you, baby girl.” You closed your eyes and smiled at the memory, imaging him next to you. Then just as suddenly, the memory of him pressing you against the wall, kissing you with abandon flooded your brain and your eyes flew wide open, your body jerking a bit.

“You ok?” Steve asked.

You could feel the heat rise in your neck. “Yes,” you said shyly. “Just not a fan of takeoffs.”

“Flying is the safest form of transportation,” said Ransom matter-of-factly. “You’ll be fine.”

You looked over at him, that chiseled profile staring straight ahead, a scowl on his face. He’d better watch out or he’d freeze that way. You grinned at the memory of your grandmother telling you that every time you rolled your eyes.

Steve reached over the armrest and took your hand, covering it with his. “Flying isn’t my favorite thing either,” he said with a smile and you wrapped your fingers around his thumb.

The flight attendant announced that the cabin was secure and takeoff could commence and the plane slowed, stopping to let another plane pass. The engine whirred and the plane jerked forward, gaining speed, the noise louder and louder. You squeezed Steve’s thumb a little harder and he returned the squeeze, holding your hand tightly in his big warm one. The plane began to lift, knocking you back slightly and you went with gravity, straightening your back and laying against the seat, eyes closed, working on breathing normally. It was unnerving feeling your body lifting from the seat a little. The loss of control made your heart race, but gently, as the plane rose and then leveled off, your body was once again calm.

You looked over at Steve and he gave you a reassuring smile. “Thanks,” you said softly. You let go of his thumb.

“No problem,” he said softly, pulling his hand away.

“My boyfriend normally does that for me,” you said. And, you were sad again.

“Is that where you’re traveling, to see him?” Steve asked.

You chewed on your bottom lip, looking down at your lap. “No, my grandmother passed away and I’m going to sort out her home and belongings,” you sighed. “He won’t be there. He’s done with me.”

“What does that mean?” asked Ransom.

You sighed. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“Well, we’ve got three hours to kill,” Steve said with a smile.

“Jesus Christ,” muttered Ransom, pulling out the airline magazine in an attempt to disappear.

Steve nudged your elbow and smiled. “Tell me about him.”

You smiled. “I’ve known him since second grade,” you smiled. “We started dating in seventh grade. He’s the only guy I’ve ever been with.”

Ransom let out a disgusted laugh next to you. You looked over at him. “Not a romantic, Ransom?”

“Uh, no,” he sputtered. “Hell no. Seriously, how old are you?”

You told him your age.

“Jesus, and you’ve only ever been with one guy? That’s ridiculous.”

You felt Steve’s hand pat your arm. You looked at him and he rolled his eyes, looking at Ransom. “I think it’s great you’re with your school sweetheart,” he said. “You must have some pretty strong feelings for him if you’ve been that loyal to him.”

“I do,” you sighed sadly. “I thought he was my forever.”

“How can you possibly know that?” said Ransom. “He’s the only guy you’ve ever been with.”

“I just know,” you said. “We have a history.’

��Tell me more,” said Steve.

“Well…”

“Where is she?”

“She’s up front, sitting on the pew.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“I heard she’ll go with her grandmother.”

The chatter continued at the back of the church just after the funeral had ended. Sitting all alone in the front was an 8-year-old girl in tights, a black velvet dress, black patent shoes and a bow in her hair. A large spray of pink tulips flowed over the edge of the oak casket in front of her.

While the adults gossiped, an 8-year-old boy in a suit and tie emerged from the back and walked up the aisle. He stood at the edge of the first pew, then sat at the end and slid down until he was next to the girl. He took her hand in his and when she looked at him, he gave a gap-toothed smile. “It’s ok Y/N. I’ll take care of you.” The little girl smiled back.

“My grandmother passed away last month,” you told Steve.

His blue eyes showed concern. “I’m so sorry.” He patted your arm.

Ransom let out a sarcastic chuckle. For someone who didn’t want to talk, he was finding his way into your conversation. You turned your face to him, unsure what type of asshole laughs at someone’s death.

He looked at you and immediately his face was serious. “I’m sorry too,” he said. “I was laughing because my grandmother was the only person on the planet that ever gave a shit about me. She was the most amazing person I ever knew.”

You couldn’t help but feel for him, despite his incredibly rough edges.

“Well, my grandmother was really amazing too,” you said. “She got stuck with me when I was little and she did a great job raising me.”

You’d moved in with her at an incredibly difficult time. Your grandfather had passed less than a year before, and then your mother, her only child. Taking you in was never in doubt, she would do so gladly, but it was a challenge that she struggled with many times.

Enter him. He was only a child, but he had, as they say, “an old soul.” He became your constant companion and a fixture in your grandmother’s home. You could feel her tension ease when he arrived. For a little while, she didn’t have to worry if she was making the right decisions for you, bridging the generation gap. When the two of you were together, you were in sync and well behaved.

You told them how, from the time you moved in with your grandmother, he became your protector. He walked you to and from school every day, carrying your lunchbox so you could pick flowers along the way. At recess, he ran to the teeter totter to save it until you got there, and when you climbed on a swing, he pushed you so high you felt like you were flying.

You played baseball with boys until sixth grade and he was always on your team. When you made the cheerleading squad, he helped you learn all the cheers and during the game, you’d see him on the sidelines with the team, miming your cheers from memory.

His family was difficult. His father drove a truck all over the country and was gone for long periods of time. His mother liked to drink, a little too much, and wasn’t always kind to her children. Despite her treatment, her neglect of her children, he had grown up well-mannered and respectful. You liked to think your grandmother had a lot to do with that.

“I lost my Ma when I was in my teens,” said Steve. You knew his story, and that he would have lost her decades ago, but losing your mother was still hard.

Ransom scoffed. “I should be so lucky,” he said under his breath.

You looked at him. “Did you just wish your mother dead?” you said sternly.

He looked at you. “Trust me, the world would be a much better place,” he muttered.

You glared at him for a minute, then turned your attention back to Steve.

“My mom was wonderful,” you said, the memory of her flooding your mind. “She was that mom – the one that did all the fun stuff. She was creative and an incredible cook and her house was open to everyone. She was just, she was the best,” you said, tears creeping into your voice. You felt Steve’s arm push into yours just a bit, the contact easing your sadness.

“My mother is a spoiled rotten bully. All she cares about is spending money and making people think she’s better than everyone,” Ransom spat out. “I honestly don’t know why she even had me – actually, I do. She wouldn’t be nearly as happy if she didn’t have the opportunity to tell me what a disappointment I am every occasion she gets.”

“She sounds like a character out of a movie,” you said.

He looked at you. “Absolutely fucking no one would watch that movie,” he said deadpan.

Steve cleared his throat. “So, when did you and your boyfriend get serious?”

“I think we just always knew we’d be together,” you said. “We were inseparable and we loved each other from that moment in the church. No one ever invited just one of us to something, it was always both of us.”

“That’s special,” said Steve. “Some people never find their soulmate. I was so lucky to find mine when I did. She helped me discover the world when I came out of the ice. She’s truly the better half of me.”

You couldn’t help but poke the bear a little. “Ransom, you’ve never been in love? Ever?”

He looked at you and rolled his eyes. “Nope,” he said, popping the P. “Love is for fools. Life is too short to be with one person. There’s a buffet of beauty out there and I’m happy to be the first in line.”

You looked at Steve, who was suppressing a little smile. “You just haven’t found the right person,” he said, also poking the bear a bit.

“There is no ‘right person’ for me, of that I am sure,” he spat. “I’m fine taking care of me. Don’t need to worry about anyone else expecting something from me I can’t give them.” He was back to looking at his magazine, acting disinterested. “Besides, anyone that claims to ‘love’ me is lying – they’re really only in love with my money.”

“Aw, Ransom,” you said with a grin, “are you saying you’re not lovable?”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out,” he said in a deep, flirty voice, and for the first time, he smiled.

You could hear Steve chuckling softly next to you.

“Y/N, he’s here!” You could hear your grandmother’s voice from the bottom of the stairs. You looked in the full length floor mirror one more time. She’d spent hours making your prom dress, just like you’d asked. It was a beautiful coral color, strapless with a beaded bodice and lace around the top and bottom. It flared as it reached the floor, and you poked your pink-painted toes in strappy gold heels out from under it. Around your neck were the pearls your mother had gotten from your great-grandparents for her high school graduation. Your hair was half up with braids on either side joined in the back with a ribbon clip, the rest down in waves on your shoulders.

Waiting for you was the guy you wanted to spend your life with. Every moment with him was special. Your love for him had blossomed and thinking of a future with him filled your heart. Tonight, you were sure the two of you would come together in a way you never had. You were ready, past ready, and you knew he was too. What you felt for him was so deep, you wanted to give him all of you, and you knew he’d take you, just as you are, and cherish you.

As you descended the stairs, he looked up at you and you thought, this must be how the bride feels when her groom sees her for the first time. He consumed you with his eyes, taking you in from head to toe. With three steps to go, he stepped forward and reached for your hand. He was so warm and he pulled you to him, a hug and sweet kiss to your glossed lips. His smile was contagious.

“You’re my dream,” he said, placing a corsage around your wrist, a pink tulip (your very favorite) in the center. “Let’s go so I can show you off.”

When you walked into the gymnasium, you saw the looks you got. Girls were wearing expensive dresses from the best designers, hair and makeup done professionally. You knew your dress wasn’t as nice and that you stood out in comparison. But he made you feel as if you were more. He danced with you all night, making sure to stand in the center of the dance floor so everyone could see you. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in your ear. “You’re exquisite.” As you both worked the room, talking to friends, he would start the conversation with “how did I get so lucky?” or “look at my beautiful girl.” You were so happy to be on his arm, by his side.

The evening flew by, the last song played by the DJ, and kids started filing out of the gym. You were sad to leave but your entire body was tingling with anticipation. He opened the door to his dad’s car for you and as you drove away, you wondered if he was as excited as you. You weren’t nervous, just anxious.

He drove you down the long road to the lake you’d been visiting since you were kids. He parked the car in a grove of trees, shielded by overgrown bushes. When he looked at you, it felt like he looked deep inside you.

He pressed a kiss to your lips, his fingers under your chin, lifting your mouth to his. You let out a little noise, deepening the kiss. He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closed, savoring your touch.

“Are you ready for this?” he whispered. It sent chills all over you.

“Yes,” you breathed, kissing him again.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he said reassuringly, but you were already pulling off the tie to his tux, unbuttoning the buttons at his throat and down his chest, your fingers brushing his pecs as you went. He gently pulled the dress down your arms, exposing your bare breasts. You’d seen him so many times but tonight, you wanted to devour his toned, muscled body, his tanned skin, the prize for hard work at his uncle’s farm. You wanted to worship him the way he’d always worshiped you. You kissed his soft lips, pressing your breasts to his chest.

He took a shuddering breath, moving down to kiss and nip along your collarbone to your neck as you pulled the shirt from his body. You laid your head back, exposing your throat, allowing him to kiss along the shaft to your chest, down your sternum. You looked in his eyes as he gently touched your breast with his hand, then dipped his head down to gently take a pebbled nipple into his mouth. He was so warm and gentle, you thought you might explode right then. You lifted yourself to pull the dress off, leaving you in your lace panties and your gold high heels. He leaned back to take a look at you, then dove in again to your breasts, giving each of them attention.

Slowly his hands made their way down your belly to the edge of your panties. He gently laid you back on the seat and you lifted your legs, reaching to undo his belt and pants. He toed off his shoes and socks, then managed to pull his pants and boxers off under the steering wheel. He pulled the condom from his wallet and stretched it over his hard, weeping cock. With a look that made you shiver, he crawled over you, his arms caging you on either side of your head. It was a tight squeeze but it worked. As he began kissing you, you lifted your hips, touching him. He was ready for you and you for him. He lined himself up with you and very slowly entered you. You winced and his hands went to your hair, kissing your forehead, your nose.

“You ok?” he asked softly.

“Mm hmm,” you hummed, pulling at his hips, feeling him go deeper inside you. His lips found yours as he found a gentle rhythm. He took you in, his eyes roaming your face, that smile that melted your heart. You laid your head back and he assaulted your neck with kisses as his rhythm picked up.

No matter what you had imagined, nothing would feel like this. He fit you perfectly. Your heart swelled and you let out a little sob of happiness as his rhythm grew faster.

“I love you Y/N,” he said in your ear. “Always.”

“I love you too,” you managed, followed by a moan from deep in your throat that made him growl in approval.

He quickened his pace and you lifted to him even more, feeling the coil in your lower belly tightening.

“I’m – oh, I’m so…”

“It’s ok baby, I’ve got you.”

His voice was so soft and husky in your ear, you let go, a sound you couldn’t describe escaping as you reached your climax. You ran your fingernails down his muscular back, then settled in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

“God Y/N, fuck, you feel so good, you’re so good for me.” His movements began to stutter as he found his release and you held him tightly to you as he finished, his head falling to your shoulder. You both lay there in the dark, panting, your bodies on fire.

“You’re amazing,” you said in a soft voice, your fingers running down his back.

He lifted slowly, propping his head in his hand. He trailed his fingers down your chest to your breasts.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he grinned.

“It was so good!” you said. You nuzzled his neck, kissing him softly there. “I want more,” you breathed into his ear.

He laughed and kissed you. You both cleaned up a bit and you started all over again, this time straddling him on the seat. He let you lead this time and you explored his hard, fit body, covering his face and chest in kisses. When you lowered yourself onto him, your palms were flat against his chest as you mewled your release, and you held him through his. It was incredible. When he walked you to your door early that morning, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him as if it would be the last time you’d have the chance. You could tell you took his breath away as he came up for air.

“I love you,” you said, looking into his eyes and never meaning anything more in your life.

He smiled and pulled you to him. “I love you too,” he whispered in your ear.

As he drove away, your mind was filled with your future, the two of you living a life full of nights like tonight. As you drifted off to sleep, you could still feel his skin on yours.

You shared, but not quite all of it, with your seatmates.

“So if he’s so amazing, why won’t he be there when you arrive?” Ransom asked.

You knew hurt crossed your face, it was impossible to hide. “Our lives, they just went different directions. I never thought they would, but they did. And then –“ You let out a shaky sigh. “Then he didn’t need me anymore.” Your voice trailed off.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” said Steve, sounding like a father. “It’s ok.”

“Maybe you should,” said Ransom, “get it all out so that if you’re disappointed when we land, it’s not so bad.”

You rested back against your seat and played it in your mind again. You told them a little about after high school and where you both ended up.

“It was my fault. I gave up on us. I pushed him away. He wasn’t my priority. For all I know, it didn’t even hurt him. I’m sure it was much easier with me out of the way.”

“That’s a lot of conjecture,” said Ransom. “Sounds like you had your reasons.”

“I guess he couldn’t really help being away from you,” said Steve sympathetically. “I can tell you from experience there’s nothing worse than being separated from the one you love most.”

Ransom rolled his eyes. “We all make choices,” he said sarcastically.

Steve sighed. “I don’t regret any I’ve made,” he said sternly.

“Then be prepared to deal with the consequences.” He looked at you. “If your boyfriend really loved you, he wouldn’t have taken a job shrouded in so much mystery. He would’ve been available to you. Maybe him taking the job was just the coward’s way of saying he wanted to explore other options.”

“Or maybe he felt it was what he needed to do to take the best care of her,” said Steve. You heard what you bet was probably his captain’s voice.

Ransom looked him dead in the eye. “Look Captain Self Righteous, if love is that important to you, there’s nothing that says you’ve had to take the chances you’ve taken. You didn’t have to become a super soldier either. Choices. If Y/N’s boyfriend had made her a priority, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Steve gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head.

“I honestly don’t blame him for moving on, I just wish he’d tried harder to tell me we were through. That’s all.” Tired of talking, you opened your book, put on your headphones and tried to get lost in the story.

“Y/N, can you hear me?”

“Yes, barely,” you answered. The connection was bad. Who knew where he was calling from, or what kind of signal he had.

“Don’t hang up,” he said hopefully.

“I won’t.”

It was the next natural step for you to go to college, but he needed something else. He was adventurous, energetic, crazy almost, and he needed something else. So he’d joined the Army as you went away to school. You were scared to be separated but he’d assured you the bond you had couldn’t be broken. He got to explore the world, facing difficult situations and enjoying the adrenaline rush. You couldn’t help but worry but he told you not to, he was in his element. And despite the distance, you’d made up for the time with letters, texts, phone calls, photos and even intimacy via cell phone. Your senior year of college began the same time as the last year of his enlistment. About halfway through the year, you sensed something had changed. He was disillusioned with his superiors and had fallen in with a group of soldiers that were fed up.

Each time he’d visit somewhere new, he’d send you a memento. “Wish you were here with me. This would be so much better with you. Someday, I’m taking you all over the world. I can’t wait until we’re together.” You dreamed of it too, if you could just find the path to come back together.

Soon, many of those calls, texts and letters seemed to be from someone you didn’t know. And as he was moving forward and finding his path, you were finding yours. You’d taken a job in Chicago, hundreds of miles from him and your grandmother. It was your dream job, and you’d always imagined life in the city. Some of your friends were headed that way and you talked of sharing an apartment and all the fun you’d have. For the first time, you questioned whether he’d be a part of it.

Once graduation was over, you’d said goodbye to your grandmother and the small town where you’d grown up and headed off for your next adventure. And he had begun his. He left the service and took a job with the chance to make a lot of money so that the two of you could pick where you wanted to be and settle down, build your dream house and fill it with kids, just like you’d always hoped. He just needed you to be patient with him.

The job was tough. He traveled for weeks without communicating and you found yourself living as if he wasn’t there anymore. When you did speak, for the first time in your lives, it would end in a fight.

“I’m doing my best here,” he’d say. You could hear the stress in his voice. “This isn’t forever. I’m going to get to a place where we can be together and our lives will be just like we imagined.”

“How can you be so sure?” you asked, the words stinging as you said them. “How can you be sure we should even still be together? We’re both so different.”

“We’re not, Y/N. You’re still what I want. We just have to hold on for a little while longer.”

“Sounds like his job was pretty intense,” said Steve, his face looking serious.

“It was. And very secret. He couldn’t tell me much. I’m sure you know about that.”

“I do,” he said. “It’s not easy to not be able to share everything with the one person you trust the most. But sometimes it’s for your own protection.”

“I know,” you said. “And I’m proud of him. He didn’t always have it so easy,” she said, glancing at Ransom, “but he worked hard, and he was doing it for me.”

Ransom raised an eyebrow at you. “I see. I was handed everything and you think I’ve never done an honest day’s work in my life.”

You looked at his velvety smooth, sexy hands. “Have you?”

He blinked. “Probably not the way you think, but I’m not totally useless. And you don’t have to risk your life every time you go to work to be successful,” he said, shooting Steve a look.

Steve grinned. “Trust me, it’s not exactly what I would’ve chosen for myself. It’s a situation that found me and I’ve worked hard to accept it.”

“Yes, must be brutal to be built like that. Do you carry a club to beat the women away? Or do you just ask them nicely to stop climbing you,” Ransom said with a sardonic smile.

You cleared your throat. “Anyway, I could just feel things changing between us and I felt really lost, but also kind of empowered. I’d moved away from home, stepped away from him and I was a success. And if I’m honest,” she said, eyeing Ransom, “I wondered what it might be like to date someone else.”

He let out a sarcastic laugh.

“And then everything changed…”

A few weeks later, you’d received a text in the middle of the night. “Meet me at the wheel at Navy Pier on the 25th at midnight. There’s something I need to tell you.”

You’d scoffed at the invitation. “If you’re coming to Chicago, come stay with me. Why are we meeting at midnight?”

“It’s just the way we need to do it, for now. Promise me you’ll be there.”

As the day approached, you found yourself immersed in work and trying to finish a project with an approaching deadline. You didn’t understand why, after not seeing each other for so long, he wouldn’t just come to your place, let you make him dinner, spend the night with you. Why must it be so clandestine?

You texted him – “You need to come to me. I have a lot of work and I’m on a deadline. If you love me, you’ll come stay with me so we can catch up properly.”

You didn’t hear back from him and on the evening he’d asked to meet you, you’d fallen asleep at your desk at home while working to finish your assignment.

“Y/N, are you coming?” “Where are you?” “Please, I need to see you.” He kept texting but the late hours you’d been keeping had you in a deep sleep.

When your alarm went off for work, you shuffled into the shower, the hot water serving as a wake-up call. Suddenly your eyes flew open – you’d slept through midnight! You jumped from the shower, shampoo still in your hair, and grabbed for your phone. It was dead. You plugged it in, finished bathing and scampered back to your nightstand for the phone.

You read his texts and tears flooded your eyes. He’d come all the way to Chicago and you missed him. You called, then sent a flurry of texts but there was no response.

He’d wanted to tell you something urgently and you’d totally blown him off. How did you get here? This was the love of your life. You should’ve been there with open arms. How long had it been since you’d held him, kissed him? You suddenly felt as if you’d been punched in the gut. You tried to catch your breath, frantically calling him again and again but no answer.

You began a series of texts explaining that you’d gotten caught up in work, and even though it wasn’t more important than he was, you’d fallen asleep and lost track of time. Could you please meet him somewhere else? You’d come to him, wherever he was. You wouldn’t tell anyone where you were going, you just needed to see him. Despite pouring your heart out to him, there was no response.

Until one night, when you’d phoned him for the millionth time, and someone answered. “Hello?” said a sultry female voice. Thinking you had the wrong number, you were about to speak when you heard his voice in the background. She said his name and you heard his husky baritone, a laugh in his voice. You quickly ended the call.

This was what he wanted to tell you – he’d found someone else. No wonder he never called back, never returned your texts. It was over and you’d made it easy for him.

Despite the cramped quarters, both of your seatmates managed to doze off during the flight. Steve had crammed his jacket between his head and the wall of the plane and was softly snoring. Ransom, with no respect for body space, had allowed his head to dip over onto your shoulder. You didn’t mind, you were glad he could rest. You couldn’t help but feel for him. It would be awful to have so much money, but be completely without anyone to love you, even your family. He smelled good and you settled down into your seat, staying as still as you could.

The time was counting down until you arrived at your destination and you hadn’t read the letter. You just didn’t think you could take it. Hearing your grandmother’s final thoughts when she knew her life was ending (but no one else did) was almost too much. Her last wishes were important, it was your responsibility to see them through. With each of your seatmates comfortably resting, you slowly opened the envelope. Your grandmother’s scent hit you immediately, and you felt tears burn at your eyes.

You unfolded the delicate stationery. It was powder blue with a scalloped edge. You’d bought if for her for Mother’s Day a few years back. She loved writing letters and leaving you notes, and the delicate femininity of the paper fit her perfectly.

“My Sweet Y/N,

As you read this, please know that I’m so sorry that I’ve left you. Raising you was my greatest accomplishment. I made mistakes with your mother, so I worked hard to be patient with you, and really listen. I cherish what we had and want you to know how proud I am of you, the wonderful young woman you’ve become.”

You wiped the tear that had begun to roll down your cheek and sniffed softly. It was harder than you’d even imagined.

“I’m sorry I didn’t share my diagnosis with you until the end, but I wanted you to continue to move forward. I knew that if I told you, you’d insist on being with me. I didn’t want you sitting by my bed while I slept when you could be enjoying your life. You gave me your very best, I owed it to you to let you go and find your future.”

You thought of all the times you’d meant to pick up the phone and call her, but something else had come up and you’d simply pushed her to the back of your mind. The thought of it made you wince. How hard would it have been to just call and say hello? Had she not earned that from you?

“I’m not leaving much behind. The house is yours to do with as you please. I know it’s old and not what you might want, but I can’t help but think, knowing how good you are with decorating, that you could make it a home you’d love and enjoy. However, if you choose to sell it, please know I’m fine with that decision as well. Don’t feel guilty. Your future is where you make it.”

The house was certainly old and dated, not what you had in mind. Not to mention you never planned to return to your old hometown. You didn’t know what you’d do there if you did. And now, there was even less reason to return.

“My biggest regret is not seeing your face when he proposed to you. I can only imagine how it felt when he put your mother’s ring on your finger and asked you to be his wife. That giant Ferris wheel at Navy Point was a perfect backdrop.

When he came to pick it up, he said he’d always dreamed of settling in this little house, but he knew Chicago was your home now, so he wanted to ask you in the place that was important to you. I will rest peacefully knowing that you have someone so special to take care of you.”

You froze, then let out a strangled cry. Steve jerked awake, his hand flying to your shoulder.

“Y/N, what is it? Are you ok?”

Finally, you let go. There was no holding back. You put your face in your hands, sobs shaking your shoulders.

“Jesus, what did you do?” Ransom asked Steve as he touched your other shoulder, bending down to look at you.

“Nothing! I woke up and she was crying.”

How could you have not seen this? Why did you doubt him? It suddenly washed over you how he must’ve felt, standing there in the dark, alone, waiting for you, to ask you the biggest question of your lives.

Your sobs increased, though you were trying to stifle the noise, considering you were on a full airplane with two beefcakes on either side of you worried.

“Y/N,” Ransom said, his lips close to your ear. He put his hand on your back and rubbed gentle circles. “Talk to us. What happened?”

You slowly sat up, Steve taking your hand in his.

“Oh my God, you guys, I blew it. I totally blew it. I broke his heart. I can’t believe I did this to him.”

The two men looked at each other, question on their faces.

“Did what?” Ransom said softly.

You held up the letter. “This is from my grandmother. I’ve put off reading it because I was so sad to know it was the last communication I’d have with her. He was coming to propose to me. At Navy Pier. He picked up my mother’s ring from my grandmother,” you said softly. Saying it out loud made it even worse. You couldn’t stop the flow of tears that fell from your eyes.

“Oh man,” Ransom said quietly, rubbing your back even more.

“Y/N, are you sure?” said Steve.

“Yes,” you sobbed, handing him the letter. Ransom put his hand on your side and pulled you toward him, cradling you against his chest.

“It’s going to be ok,” he soothed. “You didn’t know. He should’ve told you he wanted to ASK you something instead of TELL you something.”

You blinked and sat up, looking at him. “I mean, I don’t know if it would have mattered.”

“Of course it would’ve,” he said. “This isn’t on you, it’s on him. He should’ve been adamant that he wanted to ask you something.”

Steve handed you the letter back. You could see the sadness on his face. “I’m sure he was upset,” he said softly. “He’d probably been waiting until the right moment.”

You scrunched up your face, fresh tears flowing.

“Jesus,” Ransom whispered to Steve, “you could at least be supportive.”

You wiped your finger under your eye to catch a tear before it dropped on the letter. Your heart was racing and you couldn’t catch your breath. You felt as if your stomach had dropped to your feet. It was a desperate feeling, knowing what you knew and not being able to reach out to him and tell him how badly you’d screwed up.

“You ok?” Steve asked softly.

“Yeah,” you said. “And here I thought when I sat down in this seat I couldn’t feel worse.”

Steve laid his hand on your arm, squeezing a little. “If everything you said about the two of you is true, this is something you can overcome. It was a misunderstanding. If those feelings are there, you’ll be able to fix it.”

You sniffed and wiped at your nose. “Well, that’s the burning question, isn’t it? How could he still have feelings for me after what I did.”

It was Ransom’s turn to bolster your confidence a bit. “Look, misunderstandings happen all the time. And honestly, you hadn’t seen him in so long – did he not think you’d have misgivings about what he had to say when he wouldn’t come and stay with you? He could’ve come to your place and then taken you somewhere special to propose. This isn’t on you, Y/N. This is on him.”

You gave him a half-hearted smile. “It doesn’t really matter though, does it. In the end, he’s gone and I’m alone.” You laid your head back on the seat, closing your eyes to ward off more tears.

Your mind whirled with memories – the two of you hiking near your home with your beloved dog joining you; going to the annual fair and riding all the rides that made you squeal and him laugh at you; laying side-by-side in your grandmother’s hammock on the front porch. He never just held your hand – he always intertwined your fingers. He said if you looked from above, you couldn’t tell where he began and you ended.

Had you really been part of such an amazing love story? You could hear his voice saying your name as he wrapped a hand under your ear to kiss you goodnight, and you could hear it when he called you from oh-so-far-away where he was lonely and probably afraid but never let on so you wouldn’t worry.

You let out a giant sigh and pulled your phone from the storage pocket in front of you. You’d texted him before you got on the plane because it seemed like the right thing to do as you traveled back to your past. He was too big a part of it not to.

“Did you get a text from him?” asked Steve, looking down at your phone.

“No,” you said, “I sent him one before I got on the plane. I always imagined he’d be there with me through everything. I just needed to reach out to him.”

“Mind if I look?” he asked.

“Sure, why not,” she half laughed.

She scrolled to the top of the message and handed the phone to him. Steve read silently, his eyebrows scrunching in concern.

I know we haven’t talked in a long time but today is going to be hard and I need you to know how much having you in my life has meant to me. Even though we didn’t make it to the end, like we’d hoped, my life is so much better because of you. If I were to die tomorrow, I’d do it knowing that in my life, I was truly loved by someone special. For so long, I didn’t know how to be me without you.

I’m so proud of you, serving our country and then taking on a dangerous job to protect others. I never told you enough how brave you are. When I was worried or afraid, you’d be there like a safety net, making sure my heart was protected. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for loving me.

This is going to be a hard day. There’s not going to be a safe landing. Everything I had, everything that made me secure, it’s all gone. I’m sorry that I gave up. I’m in uncharted waters. I should’ve fought with everything I had for you. I hope you’re happy with someone who will appreciate you and all you have to give. Whoever she is, she’s a very lucky girl.

Steve cleared his throat, trying to remove the giant lump that had formed there. “Wow,” he said. “Those are beautiful words.”

“They’re from the heart. I felt foolish as soon as I sent them and now I feel even more stupid. I can’t imagine how much he hates me.”

“Mind if I look?” said Ransom.

“Yeah, and then if you want, pass it across the aisle,” you said sarcastically.

Ransom rolled his eyes and his mouth turned up in a grin. He scanned over the text.

“Damn,” he whispered. He looked at you. “Look, I know I don’t know you at all and this has been a little slice of our lives, an unpleasant moment we’ll forget quickly, but if this guy got this text and doesn’t respond to you, he isn’t who you say he is. Ok, you fucked up. You should’ve met him that night. But this right here would be enough for me to make a U-turn. You had something really good.”

You grinned at him. “Ransom, are you telling me it’s possible that a girl could win your heart?”

His face flooded with color. “No,” he said a little too boisterously. “Trust me, anyone that can take a little of me has their hands full.”

Steve chuckled.

“What?” said Ransom defensively.

“Something tells me you’re all talk.”

Ransom narrowed his eyes at Steve. “What does that mean?”

Steve smiled a true American hero smile. “It means, watching you with Y/N, I think you’re really a pussycat. Go ahead and act like a tough guy, but we all know the truth. You’re a softie just looking for the right girl.” He couldn’t help the smug look that replaced his smile.

“Alright Captain Jackass, you go ahead with your self-righteous psychoanalysis. I’m capable of being nice to a woman without being a softie. Seriously, the 1940’s called and they want their word back.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the two of them. You never thought when you sat down between these two incredible hunks that you’d share your life story with them and they’d comfort you as you discovered a secret that would haunt you the rest of your life.

Ding

“You’ll notice the fasten seat belts sign has been activated as we make our descent. Please secure your belongings and return your tray tables to their original position. We should be arriving at our destination in a few minutes.”

“Seriously,” grumbled Ransom, “how many people have died from errantly deployed tray tables. Is that really our biggest concern?”

You giggled a little at his words and he looked at you, the first real smile he’d smiled all day gracing his handsome face. He had the most piercing blue eyes. You wished he would find someone who’d give him a chance. Underneath that gruff exterior, you just knew there was a loving, caring guy.

“Need a hand?” asked Steve, taking yours in his. You smiled and squeezed gently.

It suddenly occurred to you what awaited when he arrived. “You must be so excited!”

“I am,” he beamed. “I’m going to meet my baby girl soon.”

“She’s a lucky little girl,” you smiled.

“Poor thing, just trying to imagine the first guy that comes to pick her up for a date,” Ransom grinned.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “She’ll never know, I’m locking her in her room when she turns 15,” he smiled.

Slowly the plane began to descend. Your heart suddenly leaped into your throat as you thought about what lie ahead for you. You thought of walking through your grandmother’s home and a feeling of loneliness washed over you, causing an ache in your chest.

“Doing ok?” Steve asked.

You turned to him and smiled. “Yes, thank you.” You looked to Ransom and back to Steve. “This has been a great flight. Thank you both for indulging me and listening, and for your support.” You looked at Ransom. “I know you said this is just an unpleasant moment we’ll soon forget, but I can tell you both I’ll never forget either of you.” You fought the tears stinging your eyes.

“Yeah, well, it’ll probably be awhile before I forget you as well,” said Ransom.

Steve pulled a pen from the bag in front of him and wrote his cell number on your palm. “Put it in your phone. Call or text me anytime you need to talk. I mean it.”

That ache in your heart suddenly subsided. “Thanks. And I mean it too.”

Within a few minutes, the plane touched down roughly on the runway, then slowed and taxied to a stop at the gate. You pulled your bag from under the seat in front of you. You felt lightheaded so you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You could do this.

Ransom took your hand and helped you up, and you made your way behind him into the aisle, Steve behind you, his hand on your lower back. You walked out into the boarding bridge, walking slowly behind the crowd of passengers. In a few minutes, you’d leave these guys who you’d never see again. You took your time shuffling along, prolonging the moment.

The crowd in front of you slowed and then stopped, as passengers found those that were meeting them. That ache clenched your chest again. You’d make your way to the rental car desk and get a ride to take you to what would surely be a sad, nostalgic evening.

“Hmm,” said Ransom. “Interesting.”

“What?” you asked as he blocked your view.

“Probably just a coincidence.”

“I don’t know,” Steve said skeptically. “Seems like too much of a coincidence.”

Now you were behind both of them and you couldn’t see anything but the backs of their gorgeous heads and their pants hugging their fine asses. It was definitely the best view of the trip and probably the best you’d have for a long time. You snickered thinking about it.

“Well, guess we’re going to find out,” said Steve as he took a couple of steps to his right and stopped.

You were able to see ahead now as they parted, and the first thing that caught your eye was the pink tulips – a huge bouquet of them. You looked above the flowers at the pink Petunias t-shirt, the blonde Van Dyke on his chin, his round wire framed glasses and spikey blonde hair. Your breath caught in your throat and you stopped, unable to move. You felt a hand at your elbow – Steve. You looked up at him.

“You ok?” he asked. It was a fatherly tone and you smiled a million watt smile at him, grabbing his hand and Ransom’s arm, pulling them forward.

You walked up to him, taking him in. He was beautiful, even better than you remembered. His body was toned and solid, tattoos peeking out from under the t-shirt. Blue jeans graced his long sexy legs, high top Chucks rounding out the look. You were overwhelmed by how much you needed him. How had you lived without him for so long?

“Hey beautiful,” he said in that sexy baritone voice. He extended the flowers to you and you took them, inhaling deeply.

“I can’t believe it.” Your voice was so quiet you were sure he didn’t hear you.

“I’m here Y/N. I’m here for you.” He pulled you to him and you lifted the flowers, wrapping your arms around his neck. He touched his nose to yours. “Did you think I’d leave you to do this alone?”

You looked into his beautiful blue eyes and tried so hard to believe this was really happening. “I didn’t expect you to be here. Not after what I did to you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Not until I read Gramma’s letter on this plane did I know. I can’t imagine how badly I hurt you.” You swallowed, pushing the hurt down deep. “I understand why you moved on, I do. And it’s ok.”

You saw the pain in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “There’s no one else,” he said, “never has been. I screwed it all up. I just did it all wrong. I should have come to you. I wanted to see you so bad. I just didn’t want to put you in danger.” He looked down and swallowed, then looked back into your eyes. “Did you mean it? All those things you said in that text this morning?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice strong. “Every word. I love you so much.”

He pressed his lips, so soft, to yours and gave you the sweetest kiss. “I love you too. Always, Y/N.” He kissed you again, this one deeper, his arms wrapped around you so securely. You could die right now and it would be ok.

Suddenly, you were aware of your surroundings. You pulled away from him, an arm around his neck, and you looked at your seatmates.

“Ransom, Steve, this is the love of my life, Jake Jensen. Jake, these are the superstars of Row 12 that got me through this flight.”

Jake extended his hand to each of them. “Thank you guys. Flying is not her favorite. Appreciate you both being so good to her.”

Ransom eyed him carefully. “You’ve got a really great girl here,” he said to Jake. “Don’t fuck it up.”

Steve smirked at Ransom. “He’s right,” said Steve. “Take good care of her.” He looked Jake up and down with his best Captain look.

“Shit,” Jake muttered and you laughed, kissing him reassuringly.

“Thanks guys. You’re the best.” You stepped forward and kissed each of them softly on the cheek.

Steve nodded and smiled, then walked towards his handler, who’d escort him to a car and whisk him away to the hospital to be by his wife’s side.

“Good luck!” you called to him and he smiled.

Ransom secured the strap of his bag on his shoulder as he approached a leggy blonde in a tight designer dress with a figure to die for.

“Hey baby,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and laid a kiss on him that would make a stripper blush.

“Easy babe, save some for the hotel,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and walking away. He turned and gave you a last look, flashing you a gorgeous smile.

“Damn,” said Jake, “if I was another guy, I might be kind of jealous and insecure about that, but I’m not some other guy, I’m your guy,” he said, rubbing his nose to yours.

“And don’t you forget it,” you said, kissing him deeply before pulling him by the hand away from the gate.

“We’re going to have to go through all of the pictures you know,” you said with a devilish grin.

“Oh God, do we have to? I don’t need to be reminded of what a dork I was back then.”

“You’re still a dork, but a very sexy one,” you said as you walked hand in hand towards your future.

Tags:

@what-is-your-plan-today @captainsteveamericarogers

#chrisevans steverogers captainamerica ransomdrysdale cafta mcu

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chrispevanss · 4 years

Text

Sinful Intensions

A/N: A smutty, smutty, filthy, Priest!Bucky AU. I’m not a catholic, and I had to google a lot of this, so if I messed up, don’t come for me.

Warnings: Smut, Oral, Unprotected Sex (remember: no glove, no love), Blasphemy

I don’t own or claim to own the pictures used below

Your fingers slid across the crucifix that hung from your neck as you slowly approached the old church. You hadn’t been there in years, but at your mother’s insistence you decided your niece’s christening was the exception.

The instant you walked into the church your nerves fired up, little pin pricks that made your skin crawl. You weren’t sure if it was God smiting you from above or the old school nuns looking condescendingly at your slightly too short, and definitely too low cut dress that clung to your figure.

The old pew creaked as you sat down, the cool wood pressed against your thighs and you shivered slightly. The church smelled musty, old, but familiar. Your mother’s eyes caught the hem of your dress and she twisted her mouth in disdain.

“You didn’t have anything else?” She whispered “This isn’t the club, you know. This is God’s house! You aren’t supposed to be parading around on display like that,” she spat. You smoothed the material down your thighs, willing it to somehow grow longer.

Before you could brace yourself from the same barrage of words you were sure were going to come from your father as well, mass had started. A man stood up at the front, your brother and his wife cradled their newborn baby girl in front, her godparents sat to the side. You knew you should be focusing on your niece, it was her day after all, but when you looked up and caught the eye of the celebrant, it all went out the window.

He had dark hair, closely cropped, steely blue eyes, and even though he was cloaked in an oversized vestment, you could see that he treated his body like the temple he preached it was. Thick fingers wrapped around the Bible in his hand, a kind smile lit up his face as he spoke of the blessings of parenthood. The joys of raising a child in the church, to walk in and live in Christ. Verbiage you had heard hundreds if not thousands of times growing up.

You unconsciously shifted in your seat, pressing your thighs together to stave off the warmth that began in your toes and traveled north.

“May almighty God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, bless you.” His voice washed over you, pulling you from your less than holy thoughts.

“Amen,” You muttered with the congregation. You stood up, eager to shake the uncomfortable feeling this church gave you. You silently waited as others passed you, searching hopefully for a break in the crowd, when you were stopped.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before, I’m Father Barnes.” Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up and met the very eyes you had spent the entire mass getting lost in. He held out his hand and you shook it with a kind smile.

“Y/N. My niece was the one you baptized today,” You slipped your hand from his grasp. He pressed up against the edge of the pew as your great aunt, Agnes shuffled by.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you at church before. Your parents are William and Cindy, correct?” You nodded and stepped out of the pew, following the young priest as he began to walk up the aisle.

“I, uh, church is complicated.” You breathed out, wringing your hands. You half expected him to tell you he was different and to give the church a chance.

“I understand. We all have a relationship with God, some choose to have that relationship in a church, some choose not to.” Father Barnes unlocked a large wooden door and pushed it open, gesturing you into his small office.

You took a seat in an overstuffed, puke green, crushed velvet chair. Gasping as you leaned back a lot farther than you gauged, your knees practically up to your chin. Father Barnes chuckled softly and pulled open a small closet door.

“Why aren’t you judging me for not coming to church and not being on 7 different committees, and basically being the polar opposite of my super fu-super religious parents, Father?” You chewed on your bottom lip at your almost swear, wishing you could sink back even further into the chair.

The young clergyman didn’t answer you as he slipped his white vestment over his head and hung it neatly in the open closet. You stole a glance at the way his black dress shirt clung to his body just so. The way his slacks molded to his ass and thighs. Father Barnes was, in a word, delicious. He moved to stand in front of you, leaning against the old desk, hands planted firmly on top.

“Because I was like you once. Fresh outta high school, I joined the Army with my best friend. Before that though I hadn’t been to church in years, didn’t even know if I believed in God. And then I spent 6 months in Kuwait. After seeing all that death, seeing friends die, I found comfort in God. And when I was discharged a few years later, I joined the seminary.” He looked down and unbuttoned the cuffs on his shirt, pushing the sleeves up to his elbows. Heat spread outward as his tattoos peeled out from underneath the shirt he wore, something about the move and his look feeling much more sexual than it should have in front of a priest.

You gasped softly as your eyes trailed up and down his forearms, admiring the work of art his body was. Literally.

“See something you like?” Father Barnes smirked and grabbed your chin in between his fingers, forcing you to stare into those steely blue eyes of his.

“I, uh, um…” You started and he chuckled softly.

“Cause I sure do.” He winked and released his hold on your chin as your mother rounded the corner.

“There you are!” She huffed, walking into the small office, standing next to you, her eyes bore holes into your skull as you sat there.

“We’re all heading over to the house for lunch, if you’d like to join.” She practically sneered. You gulped, and pushed yourself out of the chair.

“Yes. I’ll meet you at the car. I was just talking to Father Barnes about rejoining the congregation on Sundays. You met Father Barnes’ steel blue eyes, his gaze sent a rush of heat through your body once again.

“Alright,” Your mother conceded, turning on her heel and walking back up the hallway, exiting through the large door at the end.

“So, see you Sunday?” Father Barnes raised a brow in your direction and you couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across your face.

“Front and Center, Father.” You purred, stepping closer. You could hear a groan bubble deep in his chest as you let the scent of Pine and Musk overwhelm your senses.

Before Father Barnes could form thoughts that were appropriate for a priest, you had gathered your purse and coat and were standing at the door.

“See you Sunday,” You blew a kiss and winked at the stunned priest before making your way down the hall. You could feel his gaze follow you, and you wiggled your ass just a little, teasing him.

——

Sunday came all too quickly, and at the same time, not quick enough. You swiped on a layer of lip gloss, and adjusted the top of your romper. You wanted to give Father Barnes a tasteful glance at your cleavage, not have your tits on display for the congregation. It was still a church after all.

Your gold crucifix laid delicately against your cleavage as you slid in the pew next to your parents. Father Barnes had already started service, and you smiled softly as he grabbed your gaze. His eyes grew wide at your choice of outfit and you smirked as he stumbled over the Bible verse he was reciting.

You bowed your head, your eyes closed as you attempted to look focused on the Homily. But as interesting and attractive as Father Barnes was, sermons were just as uninteresting. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying to keep yourself from slipping over the precipice of sleep.

As the Homily came to a close, you found yourself shuffling along the worn carpet to the front of the chapel for communion. You followed your parents, almost obediently, keeping your gaze cast down to the floor until you approached the front of the line. You looked up at Father Barnes, feigned innocence clouded your eyes. You opened your mouth and accepted the small wafer, winking as he swallowed thickly. You whispered a meek, “Thank you Father,” as you retreated back to your pew.

As the service came to a close, you found yourself hanging back, almost hopefully, as the chapel emptied. Father Barnes approached you, you couldn’t quite put your finger on the look in his eyes, but it excited you nonetheless.

“Y/N, So good to see you!” He beamed, clutching his old, well-read bible to his chest.

“The service was great today, Father,” You smiled back, following him up the aisle to the doors. “Do you have a moment that I could talk to you, privately?” You whispered.

He nodded, opening the doors into the hallway, gesturing for you to follow him to that same cramped office as before.

“For you? Always.” He unlocked the door, setting his bible and service notes on the massive desk. He moved to the closet, slipping off the white vestment to reveal that same, all-black outfit that made you weak. He carefully hung it on a wood hanger and turned to face you. You shook your head, trying to clear it, and swallowed thickly.

“Everything alright?” Father Barnes leaned against his desk. You hadn’t moved from the doorway. Your eyes met his and you nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah. Just distracted by some personal stuff I guess,” You laughed softly and sat in the same overstuffed chair as last time. Father Barnes unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and began rolling them up his arms, revealing the beautiful, intricate line work of his forearms.

“Alright. What did you want to talk about?” Father Barnes shuffled through his notes from the service. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair, pushing the dark tendrils back. You chewed thoughtfully on your bottom lip as you stood up.

Father Barnes’ gaze met yours as you approached, standing close enough he could smell the sweet coconut of your shampoo. A scent that sent a shot of arousal straight through his body. You swallowed thickly as you played with the edge of his collar.

“Wh-What’s goin on?” Father Barnes chuckled uncomfortably, taking a step back. You followed him and cupped his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his. His lips stilled for a moment as yours moved insistently against his. You slid your hands to his hair, knotting the chestnut locks in your fingers and tugging softly. Father Barnes groaned softly and wrapped an arm around you. You gently licked at his lower lip, prodding him to open, he complied and you moaned as his tongue met yours. It was electrifying, the thought of doing something so taboo with Father Barnes. It made you feel alive.

Your hands slid down the front of his black dress shirt, and tugged it from his slacks. You were desperate to feel every inch of him. But he stilled. You pulled back, panting slightly, a smirk danced across your face.

“What is it, Father?” You whispered, a hand reached up and twirled some hair at the base of his neck.

Father Barnes stepped away and scrubbed a hand down his face.

“We-I can’t.” He sighed. Your face dropped, your eyes cast down at the worn burgundy carpet. The clock ticked as the two of you stood in uncomfortable silence.

“You should go.” He finally broke the silence. “We shouldn’t meet like this anymore, either. We can’t. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

You swallowed back the hot tears of embarrassment that pricked at your eyes. You quickly gathered your purse and started for the door.

“See you Sunday,” Father Barnes called from his desk. You nodded softly and walked towards the large doors at the end of the hall.

————

It was three weeks before you dared go near the church again. Confessional was held on Saturday night, you tentatively approached the church, stepping inside, your stomach churned.

The familiar smell of old wood, and must filled you with comfort as you stepped towards the confessional booth. You let out a breath, before speaking.

“Bless Me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was..” You paused thoughtfully, almost laughing when you couldn’t remember. “Many years ago..”

“I see,” The priest mumbled from his side. And you drew in a shaky breath.

“See, I’ve been having these thoughts about a man I considered a friend and a confidant. They have been incredibly impure thoughts, and I acted on them a number of weeks ago. He didn’t return my affections, and I haven’t been able to face him since. He was the first one in a long time who understood why I fell away from the church, and he helped me. A lot. Both personally and spiritually. I saw how good of a person he was and it made me want to be a better person.” Tears rolled down your cheeks and you sniffed softly, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

“Is there anything else you wish to confess?” His voice filtered through and a fresh wave of tears streamed down your face as you shook your head.

“N-No Father. That’s all.”

Father Barnes swallowed thickly before he broke the silence.

“I see you are remorseful. But you did commit a sin in the eyes of our Father and must do penance to receive his forgiveness.”

“Yes, Father,” You whispered meekly, wringing your hands.

“I require of you 3 Our Fathers and 5 Hail Marys. As well as regular church attendance.”

Before you could open your mouth, he had already exited the booth, the door slamming behind him. You tentatively pushed the door open, hoping to spot him. But your stomach sank as you realized you were alone. You spent the drive home in silence. You didn’t sleep that night and were nearly late to mass the following morning.

You slid into the pew next to your parents as Mass began, breathing out a sigh of relief. Father Barnes looked haggard this morning. Dark circles under his eyes, and when he spoke, he didn’t have as much enthusiasm or that usual sparkle in his eye.

Communion came and you shuffled up to the front. Your eyes didn’t meet, Father Barnes’ and you held out your hand for the small wafer. The feel of his fingers touching your skin as he placed it gingerly in your palm was electric. You heard him stiffen as you placed it on your tongue and walked back to your seat. You spent the rest of the service with your eyes cast down, your hands in your lap.

“May almighty God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, bless you.” Father Barnes’ bible closed with an audible thud and you glanced up.

“Amen.” You muttered with the rest of the congregation. You stood up as soon as the hymn ended, eager to leave the building.

“Can we talk?” A shiver crawled up your spine, and embarrassment reddened your cheeks as you turned to face the man behind you.

“Good Morning, Father.” You plastered a fake smile on your face as you greeted the clergyman.

“Can we talk? In private.” Father Barnes restated his question before you could put a thought together though, you had already agreed. You followed him out of the chapel to that same office. That same offending office you had been in three weeks ago.

You sat timidly on the edge of the puke green chair and watched as Father Barnes shut the door and began moving around. He removed his vestment, hanging it in the closet, and set his well-read bible and notes on the shelf behind his desk.

“Father, I-if this is about confession last night, I apologize. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. I just wanted to say I was sorry for what happened a few weeks ago but I couldn’t bring myself to face you and tell you.” Your head snapped up when he chuckled softly. You scowled at him, how dare he laugh when you’re here pouring your heart out!

Father Barnes didn’t answer, he simply followed his routine of rolling up his sleeves and leaning against the old desk in front of you. He smiled gently and tucked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“First, call me Bucky, when we’re here, I’m a friend, not a priest. Second, well..” He leaned forward and took your lips in a gentle, passionate kiss. You whined softly as his tongue traced your lower lip. He licked into your mouth as he pulled you out of the chair to straddle him. Your knees dug into the edge of the desk, the uncomfortable pain was the last thing on your mind as his hands ran down your back and grabbed 2 handfuls of your ass.

“Fuck,” You whispered as Bucky broke the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your neck, licking and sucking at the soft skin. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the chestnut tendrils as a wanton moan escaped your lips. You ground your still clothed core over the bulge that was beginning to form in his slacks. Bucky stilled for a moment holding your hips in place.

“Fuck, doll, if you keep doing that I might not last long and believe you me, I wanna feel that pretty little pussy wrapped around my cock.” He nipped your earlobe, your hands trailed down his front, unbuttoning the black dress shirt, pushing it down his arms. He let go of you for a moment, only to toss the offending material behind his desk. But then his lips were back on your neck, hungrily kissing and sucking at the already tender skin.

Bucky stood up and carried you over to the couch next to the door. His hair was mussed, his lips, kiss swollen as he laid you down and slotted himself between your legs.

You started unbuttoning your sundress, when he stopped you.

“Let me,” His voice was gruff but his actions were gentle as he pushed each button through the hole, slowly revealing your body to him. When you were clad in a simple white bra and plain cotton panties, Bucky sat back on his haunches to admire you.

“God, you’re like a fuckin work of art, babe.” He grunted, leaning down to kiss you, dropping your dress on the floor. Your hands reached down, desperately seeking his belt buckle. You groaned softly when you felt the leather slip from the metal buckle. Bucky’s hands met yours and he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants letting them fall to the floor with your dress.

“Someone’s a work of art,” You muttered as you trailed your hand down his chest and stomach, marveling at how toned his whole body was. You traced a nail across the linework of a tattoo that sat right on his left pec before dragging your hands back down and toying with the edge of his boxer briefs.

“You just gonna tease me all day, doll? Or are we gonna do this?” Bucky canted his hips forward, nudging your still clothed clit. You whimpered, biting your lip as a fresh wave of arousal shot through your body.

“Buck. Please.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, and you moaned against his neck as he repeated the action.

“Been thinkin’ about this pretty little pussy since I first met you,” Bucky drawled in your ear, he dragged his fingertips down your body, stopping when he reached the band of your panties.

“You gonna do something about it?” You mocked his earlier argument. His fingers curled around the waistband of your panties, bunching the thin cotton between his fingers. Before you could protest, he ripped the material, discarding it on the floor.

“Come here,” Bucky growled, wrapping his arms around your thighs, pulling you to him and kissing the sensitive skin. Breathy moans escaped your lips as he continued his ministrations.

“Oh fu-mmmm” You grabbed Bucky’s hair in between your fingers as he gently kissed your clit.

“Fuck, Princess, you’re so wet.” Bucky slid a finger inside your waiting heat as he wrapped his lips around your swollen clit. You nearly screamed at the sensations overwhelming your body.

He added another finger, scissoring you open, his mouth never leaving your clit. You thought you had died and gone to heaven when the coil in your belly snapped and you came all over his fingers.

“That’s a good girl,” Bucky smirked, licking his fingers with an exaggerated pop as he crawled back up to kiss you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as he licked into your mouth, usually, you’d find the thought of tasting yourself a complete turn-off, even gross. But something about tasting yourself as Bucky’s tongue explored your mouth turned you on even more.

You hooked your feet into the elastic waistband of Bucky’s underwear and pushed it down, freeing his strained erection. You gasped softly, he was bigger than you had imagined, thick, the tip dripped with precum as you slid your hand up and down his shaft. Bucky’s cock was, in a word, beautiful.

His large hand covered you and he kissed your cheek chastely before moving to whisper in your ear.

“I’d rather cum inside you, than on you.” A shiver ran up your spine, a soft whimper escaped your mouth.

“Do it, then,” You challenged him.

Bucky sat back on his haunches again, spreading your legs as far apart as they would go. He tenderly dragged the head of his cock through your wet folds, both of you moaned at the sensation. And finally, ever so slowly, he sank into you, filling you up, making you feel like you were about to burst.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned as Bucky bottomed out, stilling his hips for a moment, his lips met yours tenderly. He rolled your pebbled nipples between his fingers as he began thrusting. Your toes curled and you gasped against his mouth.

You whimpered a meek, “Faster. Harder.”

Bucky grabbed your calf and lifted a leg over his shoulder. The angle made him feel so much bigger, so much deeper. You were almost positive you wouldn’t walk out of this normally. Bucky’s hands dug into your hips as he thrust into you, almost animalistically. You cried out, fingers tugging on your nipples.

Your head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.

“You’re so fuckin tight, Princess. God, squeezing my cock real nice,” Bucky panted above you. A thin sheen of sweat covered both of your bodies when he pulled out suddenly. You protested at the loss of sensation until he flipped you over, one leg propped up on the arm of the couch as he slid back inside.

“B-Bucky!” You cried out, tears of pleasure streamed down your cheeks as you neared your second release.

Bucky’s hand traveled around your hips, the roughened tip of his pointer finger began rubbing your clit in time to his thrusts. And that’s when everything exploded. You swore you saw stars as your walls clenched down around him. Your fingers dug into the back of the couch and you couldn’t contain the shout that escaped your throat in a fit of passion.

“Ah fuck, baby, just like that,” Bucky cooed in your ear, his arms wrapped around your front and held you up as he found his own release. You moaned at the warmth that filled your belly, Bucky kissed your shoulder softly and helped you lie down on the couch. He lay behind you, cock still firmly tucked into your pulsing cunt.

“Holy shit,” You laughed, reaching down to Bucky’s hands on your stomach and lacing your fingers with his.

“Yeah..” Bucky chewed thoughtfully on his lip. You didn’t want to intrude, but the words left your mouth before you could think.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, you rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word.

“I don’t think I can be a priest anymore, and after meeting you, I don’t know if I even want to.” Bucky squeezed your hand in his, taking your lips in a tender kiss.

“Wanna go on a date?” Bucky chuckled softly. You laughed, rolling over on the couch to face your partner.

“Only if you shower first, you smell like sex,” You chided playfully. Bucky’s arms tightened around you and you giggled through his assault of neck kisses.

“And then after, we can run away together, and live on the beach, and be naked 24/7, and fuck like bunnies,” Bucky muttered against your neck. You sighed in contentment, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I like that. A disgraced priest, and his sinner girlfriend living on the beach, naked and fucking,” You laughed as Bucky placed another kiss on your lips, pulling you closer to him.

#Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #marvel #the winter soldier #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan fanfiction #marvel fanfic #Bucky barnes AU

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fortune-fool02 · 4 years

Text

Painting in His Mind

Robert E.O Speedwagon x female reader

Requested by: anonymous

A creepy Lovecraftian story of a character of your choice featuring a slow transformation into a non human or half human being and the reader trying to help them cope.

Lovecraftian AU

I love this idea! Throwing out all cuteness and fluff, we are losing sanity like adults! This is a bit long. Please enjoy!

There was only so much that the human mind could comprehend. Only some beliefs that could allow them to live happy, simple lives; oblivious to truths beyond their capability of understanding. Things impossible outside of stories and myths. Things that melted reality and belief together into one absurd painting of mass dark greens.

The painting was something that was so strange and abstract that it captivated Speedwagon from the moment he laid eyes on it. He had found it during a robbery of some abandoned mansion that had been left to rot after the owners had died in an accident. Carriage rode right off the cliff and down into the rocks below from what he heard. No one survived and they barely found enough to bury. A collection of things had already been taken by anyone who could get their hands on it and yet the paintings were left untouched.

Speedwagon had gone in one night, searching for something to take when he stumbled upon the cloth covered canvases, tucked away in the studio that was once a supply room or storage room. Curious, he had removed a sheet and saw the painting.

Dark shadows merging with the blackness behind it, distorting and shifting into the light to be seen. Gaping maws inside gaping maws, lines of white stained red, both fresh and dried. Something stirring deep within him, a primal sense of fear that had never been felt before, not when he was held at gunpoint nor when he was in inches of his life. Hollow orbs blacker than the ocean’s darkness with twisting shapes and empty sockets staring out into his coffee brown eyes, piercing pass them and worming their way into his mind like a parasitic worm feasting of a fresh, ripe host. Something silently cried in his mind, as if the painting itself was speaking through a veil of water, muffled and distorted but there. Whispers, whining and whimpering, aching to be heard by ears not for them.

He did not know why but he had to take that painting back home with him. He wanted it. He had to have it. The need and hunger for money was all but forgotten to Speedwagon when he returned to his home and practically stripped down an entire wall in his room for that painting. It didn’t deserve a simple spot, no, it deserved the entire wall. Shelves ripped from their place and cast aside, forgotten, replaced. All in favour of that painting.

Every day, Speedwagon sat and admired the painting. Tracing his fingers over every brush streak, every melt of the colours, over the maw and teeth. Something deep within him was drawn to this painting, a tugging in his core like a string, no, not a string, stronger. A thread, a rope, a chain. A chain to a boulder dropped in the ocean, pulling him down with it. Sometimes, he could hear the whispering, soft singing below water; deep in his mind, faint but there, wanting to be heard, to be louder. He wanted to hear it.

His friends came by to check on him and he reassured them he was fine. His friends swallowed his answers after some convincing and left him be but [Name] was kinder than that, more concerned, and thus remained with him. Wanting to make sure he really was alright. She was always so kind in his eyes, always so sweet and generous, thinking of those before herself. That was why he showed her the painting. He had expected her to be awestruck by it but, instead, she was unsettled by it, she even took some steps away from it.

Then again, they did have different tastes in preferences and art so that could just be it. But her face, she looked so concerned for him. She even questioned him as to why he had such a thing. He told her how he felt about the painting, how he found it oddly captivating.

“Robert, you have never once been interested in something like this style before. It’s not right at all, it’s....unsettling.” the [Hair colour] woman told him, her eyes glowing with honesty and concern for him. Speedwagon sighed at those eyes, such beautiful eyes. Sighing, he told her everything. The odd dreams that plagued his nights since he got the painting, the images of something reaching out of the inky blackness to him, dragging him down deeper into the darkness. His lungs filled with water whenever he tried to scream or call out in these dreams. Her expression painted into many different layers of concern for him and tried to think of some way to help him.

No matter what advice he took, Speedwagon could not shake this painting. Couldn’t shake the pull he felt towards it. His dreams would spill past his eyes and into his vision, seeing the twisted things crawl towards him in his own home, no longer bound to his dreams alone anymore. His growing need to be with some kind of water. First starting off as drinking more, and more, until it was no longer enough and the blonde man would lay in the bath for hours. Even after the water had gone cold. [Name] recalled coming to see him one time and finding him trying to strangle himself while trying to call out for help then saying that something had wrapped around his throat, refusing to believe it was his own hand.

That was when [Name] decided enough was enough.

The sun had long set when she arrived at Speedwagon’s house unannounced. She knew that this would be foolish but she was doing this for Robert. Her pick-locks soon allowed her entrance to his house and was greeted by a breeze of coldness. It had been a few days since she last saw Speedwagon and, by the looks of his house, whatever has happened has only gotten worse with the thrown about furniture and broken objects. Especially with the lit candles all over the place and drawings.

Slowly making her way upstairs, [Name] peeked into Speedwagon’s room to see the bedroom in almost perfect condition. Clean, well-kept, well-lit, the only room in such way. In the centre of the room, Speedwagon laid, bowing to the painting and praising it as one would the Holy Spirit or Christ. Robert Speedwagon was not a religious man so this was something unsettling for her to witness. The door creaking caught his attention, making him smile.

“[Name]. My wonderful darling, please, come in, come in.” His tone sounded so...at peace. Like he was welcoming an old friend in who he hasn’t seen in many years. The second she got a better look at him, she knew something was off. His coffee brown eyes were hazy, glossed over with a bleakness to them, like his mind wasn’t there.

“Robert? What....What’s going on?” He only smiled more at her words.

“Nothin’. I’m just enjoyin’ the beauty of it. Can you see it, [Name]?” He asked, motioning to the painting again. Uncertainty flooded her, mixing with the concern for his odd behaviours. The man’s skin looked paler, drained of colour almost, like he was sick and only sparked more concern.

“Robert, are you feeling well? You look dreadful.” [Name] spoke, taking a step closer to him only to have him smile more.

“I’m fine. I have never been better.” Refusing to accept his answers anymore, [Name] shook her head,

“No, you’re not. You’re sick and I’m taking you to a hospital. Now.” She said, reaching to him to lift him up. As cruel as this seemed, she was doing this for his benefit. Robert refused to leave, squirming out of her hold and remaining in place.

“No! I’m stayin’ here! I need to watch this paintin’! Protect it!” He spat out at her, something he had never done since they knew one another. [Name], infuriated, grabbed a knife from her pocket and went over to the painting, ready to drive the blade through the canvas and destroy the damn thing. That did not sit well with Speedwagon as the man screamed in a rage, tackling her down and striking her across the face. His expression and eyes wild with rage.

“Don’t you dare touch it! You’re not worthy to touch it! How dare you try to destroy it!” He screamed at her, grabbing her [Hair colour] hair and smacking her head against the floor with force. Her cries of pain and pleas fell on deaf ears as he continued to do this before tightly yanking her head up again and glaring into her [Eye colour] eyes.

“Robert, please! Please, I-I’m sorry!” She cried out, trying to move her hands to protect her head and curl up more, though his iron grip prevented that.

“Not good enough! Not good enough....” He kept his grip, his hand reaching to the side for something and pulling it back into view. The candle-light glimmered against the blade in his hand. Cold panic flooded through her at the sight of it, squirming more under his grip,

“No! No, Robert! Please!” Again, her pleas were ignored as he straddled her, holding her in place as he brought the blade higher up.

“Lä. Lä. Cthulhu fhtagn...” he spoke softly, the words foreign and unknown to her as the blade remained still for a moment. Then brought down.

“Speedwagon pleas-!”

#speedwagon #robert e o speedwagon #jojo bizarre adventure #speedwagon x reader #robert e o speedwagon x reader #jojo bizzare adventure x reader #jojo #jojo x reader #jojo part 1 #jojo phantom blood #phantom blood x reader #phantom blood #robert edward o speedwagon #reo speedwagon #lovecrafian au

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mrsdobrik · 4 years

Text

Not Clickbait - Chapter 29

This is my favorite chapter! I can’t believe it’s finally out! It’s about David and Y/n going on a trip together and sleeping together for the first time. You can totally read it as a one shot too but it’s better if you are up to speed with the series! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did 💕💕💕

Y/n and David had just landed in Miami and gotten their rental car. David (Natalie) had made reservations at the Ocean's Edge Resort in Key West. They got to their room just as the sun was starting to rise which made the view even more spectacular than it already was.

“Dave, this… this is so perfect. Thank you for this, thank you for being such an amazing boyfriend” she said wrapping one of her arms around his waist as they walked over to the balcony. “We should go swimming, right now before there are a bunch of people at the pool!” Y/n beamed.

“Sure, whatever you want to do.” David agreed leaning down to kiss her.

“I’ll go change.” she whispered and walked over to her travel bag to get her swimsuit out.

She went into the bathroom and David just stood there on the balcony looking at the amazing view. A few minutes later Y/n came out of the bathroom in a flesh colored two piece. She had her hair down and her cheeks were slightly flushed. The golden light of the rising sun hitting her skin, still dewy from rubbing sunscreen all over. David thought she had never looked better, more relaxed, happier.

“Can you rub this on my back?” She muttered handing him the tube of sunscreen. She turned around as David put some lotion on his hand, she shivered a little when the cold product first hit her skin but then she started enjoying the feeling of David’s hands running through her back. David started spreading the cream and as he came across the strap of her bra he started running his hand under it. “You can untie that” she said holding the fabric by the front and he did, leaving her back completely bare for him to explore.

“Done” he whispered after a couple of minutes. Y/n turned around and leaned in for a kiss, it started off light but it soon deepened, her bra falling to the ground as she forgot she was holding it. They started moving towards the bed, his shirt falling on the ground on the way. David took a step back to look at her.

“You are so beautiful.” He muttered in her ear as he started kissing down her neck and clavicle. “I love you” he whispered on her lips. She broke the kiss to look at him for a second.

“I love you too.” she smiled against his lips.

“Are you sure you want to do this babe? We can stop, it’s okay if you want to wait.” David said breaking the kiss once again.

“I’m sure, I love you” she nodded. More pieces of clothing fell to the ground, as their hands got to know each other's bodies. It was sweet and gentle, filled with kissing and caressing, soft laughter and smiles.

…

A while later Y/n and David were still in bed, wrapped in nothing but each other's arms and white sheets.

“Was… did… “ Y/n started, not completing her thoughts.

“Babe, just ask, you’ve been trying to get it out for like an hour” He smiled, putting his head on the crook of her neck.

“Did you like it? I mean you have more experience than I do so… Was it good for you?” She said feeling her cheeks get hot.

“Yes, it was great.” He smiled sweetly at her “Was it good for you? Did it hurt?”

“It was perfect. And no, it didn’t hurt.” Y/n said remembering how kind and gentle he was during the whole thing.

“You are so perfect, so amazing. I love you. This last couple months have been so wonderful.”

“I love you too, Dave. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect boyfriend.” She smiled running her fingers through his hair.

…

As tempting as spending the whole weekend in that hotel room sounded, after some room service breakfast it was adventure time. They rode all the way to Key West, visited the Hemingway Home and Museum, went canoeing and window-shopped through the luxurious boutiques before sitting down to have lunch.

“Most of these things have seafood!” David complained.

“Well, yeah babe, that’s kind of the point…” Y/n said giggling.

“Do you want to go parasailing after lunch?” His eyes gleamed.

“Nooo, pleeeease! I don’t like dangerous activities!! We are both too young to die…”

“We are not going to die, it’s going to be fine! You’ll love it, it’s fun!”

“If we die I am going to haunt your spirit for eternity…” she said giving up. She knew there was no point in arguing, when something got in his head…

“Good, that way not even death will do us apart”

“Funny…” She gave him a light push.

…

“Tell me again why we are doing this…” Y/n said squeezing David’s hand so tight it would probably leave a bruise.

“Because it’s fun and we only live once and because your face is funny when you are scared.” He replied giving the girl a quick peck.

Y/n actually really enjoyed herself, the views were amazing, it was really fun and it turned out to be the perfect thing to get her head off of what was coming. The wind blew her hair and blushed her already suntanned skin.

…

Night time came way too soon and David was at the bar waiting for Y/n, who was still in their room getting ready. He smiled down at his phone as he read Natalie’s text.

Assistant #1: How is the trip going, Romeo? Reformed Bieber: It’s great, the hotel is perfect! Thank u! Assistant #1: I am the best assistant, I know. U should give me a raise! Reformed Bieber: Haha v funny! U r a great friend! Assistant #1: OMG! Is that a compliment or just a way to get out of the raise? Reformed Bieber: Exactly. Assistant #1: U lil bitch, wait till u come home! Changing the locks tonight Reformed Bieber: I told her I loved her… Assistant #1: WHAT?? OMG!! I am so happy for u Dave!! Did she say it back? Reformed Bieber: Yes :)

As he sent that message he looked up to see Y/n approaching him. His jaw literally dropped, as did the ones from most of the attendants. She was wearing a silk emerald green tight dress, it was calf long and left little to the imagination as the fabric hugged her figure like a second skin. The color complemented her skin beautifully and had a sheen to it as the light reflected off the dress. Her skin had taken a golden tint, which was emphasized by the shimmer in her body oil. Her hair fell in careless curls and a proper amount of gloss made her lips look extra juicy. She was a gorgeous young woman, and David was used to her sweet pastel colored dresses but in that outfit she looked like a completely different person.

“WOW! Let's get out of here before my girlfriend shows up!” He whispered in her ear as she reached his seat in the bar.

“Sorry sweetie, I don’t do committed guys.” She muttered with a seductive little smile.

“Bummer.” He said before leaning in for a kiss, it was passionate and short lived.

“I take it you like my new dress.” She smiled teasingly.

“You should never take that off” He said, looking her up and down.

“If that is what you want! And here I was thinking you would enjoy what is underneath more than the dress.” David knew there was no way she could have anything under that dress because it would show through the fabric. So the thought of the only thing that could be under her dress appeared in his head.

“There is no way we are getting through dinner if you keep this up. I might need to throw you over my shoulder and take you back to our room.”

“Didn’t your mom teach you that you can’t have dessert before dinner?” She scolded, running her hand through the collar of his shirt.

“I’m a slow learner.”

…

The next day was spent at the beach enjoying the clear skies and warm water. Y/n put her book back inside her bag under the gazebo and looked over to her boyfriend.

“Are you coming to the water with me?” She asked as David played with his phone.

“No babe, go ahead. I’m too tired, I want to rest a bit.” He replied before kissing her goodbye.

It hadn’t been half an hour when David looked up from his phone to see two buff guys talking to Y/n by the shore. He could feel the familiar green monster making an appearance. She looked too pretty in her mint green bathing suit and wet hair. He didn’t like the way those guys seemed to be eating her with their eyes. She seemed totally oblivious to that last part though. He stood up and made his way to his girlfriend.

“Hey babe! Was the water nice?” He said, grabbing her by the waist.

“It was perfect! You should go swim a bit before it starts getting cold! Oh, by the way… these are Chad and Trent! We went to high school together… isn’t it a small world?”

“Hey! Nice to meet you!” Dave smiled holding out his hand.

“Holy fuck! You didn’t tell us that the guy you were dating is David Dobrik!” One of the guys said

“Yeah, well it's kind of a secret or at least it was until he called me babe.” She explained, giving him a look. She had caught what he was trying to do and couldn’t wait till they were alone so she could tease the fuck out of him. He blushed a bit.

“Hey, don’t worry! We are not going to say anything! We still owe her big time for all the times she helped us with homework and exams! She was always the smartest little nerd in the class” The other guy said.

“Well except for gym class, those were not her brightest moments”

“Ohh god please don’t ever mention that again!! David destroyed me in tennis a few weeks ago!!” She laughed.

“Hey, so I know you two are on vacation but would you mind taking a picture with us?” Guy n°1 said

“Sure!” David said and after a few more minutes of chat both pairs went their separate ways.

“Look at you being all jealous! You are like a little puppy marking your territory! That is hi-la-ri-o-us!! OMG!! I can’t wait to go back and tell Natalie about this she is going to laugh so fucking hard!!”

“Whatever. The fact that they know you doesn’t mean they were not flirting with you!! They were eyeing you up!! You are just too naïve to notice.” He shrugged, grabbing at her waist.

“No, I am not! I did notice which is why ten minutes before you joined us I told them I came here with my boyfriend” She said giggling.

“That didn’t stop them staring then.”

“Maybe it didn’t, but I don't care. I only have eyes for one guy, and he is amazingly handsome and talented.”

“Let me guess, it’s me.” He said leaning down to kiss her.

“No, it's Ryan Gosling. But you are a close second place.” She giggled pulling him in.

#david dobrik #david dobrik x you #david dobrik x y/n #david dobrik x reader #david dobrik imagine

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godsporncollection · 4 years

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Saturday GC Sessions Summary

Topics, quotes, and summaries of the talks given in the Saturday sessions of the fall 2020 General Conference (with occasional commentary in parenthesis)

*This is (mostly) written from a TBM pov, so I’ve glossed over many... unsavory things. That said, if you’re gonna quote this, definitely proofread it first because I occasionally switch to exmo pov.

Sunday Sessions (long version)

Sunday Sessions (shorter version)

Russel M Nelson

Hopeful, holy bullshit/look at all the spiritually awesome stuff we're doing/gonna do. (idk, there didn't really seem to be much of a talk there)

David A Bednar

Tests in school are as important as the tests of us living on earth.

"Prove, examine, and try."

"If ye are prepared, ye shall not fear."

Susan and I looked over our food storage and learned that we did well in most areas, but found some expired things we were afraid would unleash another global pandemic.

Remember, when loved ones die, and you don't know why, god does. It's a lesson in faith.

Scott D Whiting

How to be more like christ.

Wife and I were in Japan, hiking up a mountain; it was hard because altitude.

One step at a time is how we become more like christ.

Honesty is important, honesty with ourselves.

You can ask others how they view you, but god is a better person to ask, with his perfect view of us.

REPENT! to be the best version of ourselves. Change your heart and mind to be like christ.

Choose one attribute to focus on at a time. Constantly ask god for help, but don't be selfish.

"Be the tide that raises all boats in the harbor."

Recognize that desired attribute in others. Put in a lot of effort.

Caution- don't feel guilty, unworthy, or unloved; that is not what life is about.

You are good enough and loved, but that doesn't mean you're a perfect version of yourself.

Michelle D Craig

Story of Elijah for allegory of struggling to see how god is in your life.

Wait and trust in god. Pray for the lord to open your eyes. Understand how god sees you.

Ask yourself: what am I doing that I should stop and what should I be doing?

Stop looking at your phone. I think it's a good time to multitask, but the spirit told me to stop and the next day, while in line at the grocery store, I looked at the people around me instead. I saw old man and struck up a conversation with him based on what was in his cart (cat food). He said it was his birthday so I wished him a happy birthday. This guy needed me to see him.

A story of a friend who separated from her husband and hoped nobody would talk to her at church. A young woman kept looking back at her and came up to her after sacrament meeting. The young woman told her she loved her and they became friends and it helped her because she felt noticed and cared about.

Ask god to help you see others and act to affirm their lives. This is how we identify our own purpose.

Quentin L Cook

Righteousness. Female followers of brigham young found career opportunites in Utah and friends in the native americans. (Gave a whole bullshit Utah thanksgiving story, complete with rewriting history so white people can feel better about themselves for feeding the natives). There is unity in respect. Historically, we have not been perfect, but that is the goal. We don't need to have all the blessings of god to be righteous. Love god and fellow man to live in eternal peace and happiness with god. "Historical record" in 1 nephi shows there were no happier people because of righteousness. But then that society was destroyed so much that mormon asked how they would avoid punishment. We live in that latter time, not unity. Our challenge is to lift and bless society as a whole. Demonstrated by ethnic harmony and an all inclusive doctrine. Unity and diversity are not opposites. All races and colors are children of god. Laws written in god's chosen land (US) were written by imperfect men, but inspired by god for equal treatment of all men. Remember that we were onced very opressed because we wanted to share jesus' love. If you are not united, you are not god's children. Gosple culture is greater than regional cultures. We honor pioneers because of their struggles.

Ronald A Rasband

Supplying the world with temples is a holy duty.

Sacred ordinaces lead to exaltation.

"Temples rise above the ways of the world. Every temple... stand as testaments to our faith and eternal life and the joy of spending it with our families and heavenly father. They increase understanding of the godhead and the everlasting gospel and commitment to live and teach truth and our willingness to follow the example of jesus."

I learned an important lesson while visiting my father in law as he was dying; that temple recommends are important, even while dying.

The worthiness interview "is not about do's and dont's. It is about finding your worthiness and to testify of your devotion to the gospel teachings."

(I stopped paying attention for a while.)

Hunter said his biggest desire was to have every member hold a temple recommend.

Come get yo rec's! "Whether you have access to a temple or not, it is still important to remain and prove your worthiness."

(I'm really struggling to pay attention to this guy and holy shit he stressed "be patient" while I was typing that.)

Dallin H Oaks

"The lord's teachings are for eternity and for all of god's children."

My examples will be US-centric, but I'm sure that the issues the US face are universal, right?

Destrucitve behavior in political statements are not good.

Remember that JC said to love your enemies. Contention is of the devil, not JC. It isn't easy. Seek and ye shall find the strength to love.

Follow the laws of man.

Nobody can make us angry, it is our choice to be angry.

(Reference to The King and I-) learn about other people's culture.

Don't participate in rioting.

Wait, he's supporting the first ammendement- oh, the stress here is on the word "peaceful". We must do better to end racism. But remember to be peaceful! No violence. Anarchy is evil. Lincoln said "there is no greivance that is a fit object of redress by mob law". It undermines individual rights, not protects.

The US was started by diverse people! We're inherintly diverse! Here's a diverse (british) example!

AFTERNOON SESSION

D Todd Christofferson

There's a 2030 sustainable development agreement thingy. It's got 17 goals including- no poverty, no hunger, quality education, gender equality, clean water and sanitation, and decent work. It is interesting and important.

More important is a sustainable society.

Two biblical examples: 1. The city of enoch. They were of one heart and one mind. 2. The 1st generations of nephites an lamanites. No envies nor strifes. No murders or lying. No happier people than them. Love thy neighbor. Every man seeking the interests of his neighbor. Virtues uphold these societies.

Then they became exceedingly wicked and millions died in wars amongst themselves.

"When people turn from a sense of accountability to god and begin to trust instead in the arm of flesh (?)", disaster lurks.

A good life is more important than a long life.

I'm so fucking blessed, so this really isn't a good topic for me, but here we are.

The light of christ is what uneducated people call a consience.

"When one has no higher god than himself, and seeks no greater good than satisfying his own appetites and preferences, the effects will be manifest in due course. A society, for example, in which individual consent is the only constraint on sexual activity is a society in decay. Adultery, promiscuity, elective abortion and out of wedlock births are but some of the bitter fruit that grow out of the immorality sanctioned by the sexual revolution." This leads to poverty and fatherless families, sometimes in multiple generations, and deficient education and mental destruction.

"Our joyous message is that there is a better way through god... (the core truths of this message are) god lives, he is the heavenly father of our spirits, that as a manifestation of his love, he's given us commandments that lead to a fullnes of joy with him, that JC is the son of god and our redeemer, that he suffered and died to atone for sins on condition of our repentance, that he rose from the dead, bringing to pass the resurrection of human kind, and that we will all stand before him to be judged."

Steven J Lund

My son had cancer. It was hard. He was in lots of pain, but still wanted to go to church even when his mom suggested he stay home. He knew he inspired others when they saw him there, representing the savior by willingly suffering to serve.

All youth programs are there to help them be more like JC.

They are surrounded by things that keep helping them do that, but they're still making mistakes, so parents and leaders need to step up (potterheads grab your wands).

Gerrit W Gong

Family of 10 is hated by neighbors, nobody likes them until their house burns down. Then they were showed kindness, hope, and understanding by their neighbors helping them.

"Our 2020 bicentenniel proclamation begins with the profoundly inclusive promise that god loves his children in every nation of the world. Each of us in every nation... god promises covenants, and invites us to come partake of his abundant joy and goodness. God's love for all people is affirmed throughout scripture that love encompasses the abrahamic covenent, gathering his scattered children, and his plan of happiness. In the house of faith, there are to be no strangers, no foreigners, no rich and poor, no outside others. As fellow citizens with the saints, we're invited to help the world for the better, from inside out; one person, one family, one neighborhood at a time. This happens when we share the gospel."

Church materials are available in many regions and languages. We're gonna focus on that for a while. (And I stopped paying attention again. This dude is boring af. And I have a high threshold for boring right now)

Talking about how members do charity work.

W Christopher Waddell

Some kid said it was the greatest day of his life to meet this guy who talks to the profit a couple of times a week. The story is given with the obvious topic of "we thank thee oh god for a prophet".

Prophets tell us to prepare for crisis.

We understand your struggles and want to express that there are better days ahead. Church leaders can help you.

The lord loves effort.

Have stores of food and money, but don't go to extremes in your efforts to establish those things.

We have a brochure on finances with quotes from people about how god will provide.

Remember Joseph in Egypt.

"All things are spiritual to the lord and not at any time has he given us a law which is temporal."

Manage your finances and have food storage.

Matthew S Holland

The feeling of Alma remembering his sins are as painful as passing a kidney stone (?!).

Repentance will bring us relief.

We have no idea how bad our suffering will be if we don't repent.

"Medical science, professional counseling or legal rectification can help alleviate such suffering but note, all good gifts including these, come from the savior. Regardless [of] the causes of our worst hurt or heartaches, the ultimate source of relief is the same: JC. He alone holds the full power and healing balm to correct every mistake, right every wrong, adjust every imperfection, mend every wound, and deliver every delayed blessing."

When you feel like nobody could understand your suffering, remember that jesus can.

"Suffering in righteousness helps qualify your for, rather than distinguishes you from, god's elect."

William K Jackson

An Indian dude didn't want to turn his back on his culture in order to convert with the rest of his family. But JC was able to open his eyes to a different viewpoint.

Our original culture is the culture of Adam and Enoch. It is the greatest of all cultures. There is no "us v them" mentality in the greatest of all cultures.

"We believe that we are responsible and accountable for ourselves, each other, the church, and our world. Faith in JC is the first principle of our culture, and obedience to his teachings and commandments is the outcome.”

“It is a culture of covenants and ordinances, high moral standards, sacrifice, forgiveness, repentance, and caring for the temple of our bodies. It is a culture of the preisthood, the authority to act in god's name, the power of god to bless his children. It edifies and enables individuals to be better people, leaders, mothers, fathers, and companions- and it sanctifies the home. In the culture of christ, women are elevated to their proper and eternal status. They are not subservient to men, as in many cultures in today's world, but full and equal partners here and in the world to come.”

“The family is the basic unit of eternity. The perfection of the family is worth any sacrifice" because, as has been taught, "no other success can compensate for failure in the home."

This culture is concerned with things of lasting worth.

It is inclusive, not exclusive.

"Because this culture results from the application of our savior's teachings, it helps provide a healing balm of which our world (cue crying) is in such desperate need. What a blessing it is to be a part of this grand and (voice wavering) *noble* way of life. The church is hardly a western society or an american cultural phenomenon. it is an international church, as it was always meant to be. New members from around the world bring richness, diversity, and excitement into our ever-growing family!" (hallelujah!)

Indian dude joined the church, of course.

"What a marvelous heritage (quiet sob) we all share!"

Dieter F Uchtdorf

Because of a threat from the US military, the SLC temple was buried during constrution. When the threat had passed, they excavated it and found that many stones in the foundation had cracked and were replaced. "Finally, the saints could sing How Firm a Foundation and know their holy temple was built on a foundation that would last for generations.”

“This story can teach us how god uses adversity to bring about his purposes." Which is an appropriate topic these days.

We mourn with those who have lost loved ones to covid.

"My message today is that even though this pandemic is not what we wanted or expected, god has prepared his children and his church for this time."

We will do more than survive, we will move forward and we will be better as a result.

We are like seeds that must be buried before they can sprout. "The love of god and blessing of the restored gospel of JC will bring something unimaginable to spring forth."

Hardships strengthen our character.

"What we learn from biblical examples? 1. The righteous are not given a free pass that allows them to avoid the valleys of shadow... 2. Our heavenly father knows that we suffer, and because we are his children, he will not abandon us..."

"Our best days are ahead of us, not behind us. This is why god gives us modern revelation."

(I stopped paying attention during an aviation allegory.)

Stories of new/potential converts going to appointments early because of excitement. "Our missionaries are busier than ever."

WOMEN'S SESSION

Sharon Eubank

Story of a kid rewarded with his favorite pie for doing chores. He was selfish when his sister asked if she and her friend could have some because they didn't earn it, but changed his mind later. This showed that he was willing to change and show kindness to those who didn't deserve it.

"By union of feeling, we obtain power with god."

I don't like this world. It sucks and I want to make it better and sometimes I feel powerless, but I have done lots of soul searching and have three suggestions.

1. Have mercy. Jacob 2:17, but replace the word "substance" with the word "mercy". We need more mercy in our ministering. "If you would have god have mercy on you, have mercy on each other."

2. Make your boat swing. Rowing definition: "swing" is when all are rowing in such perfect unison that not a single action is out of sync. Somehow, individuality is crucial to this; clones couldn't do it. "Differences can be turned to advantage instead of disadvantage." This makes you go fast and they won because of that.

3. Clear away the bad as fast as the good can grow. Jacob 5: good tree is planted in good ground but was corrupted. A servant asks that the tree be given another chance and then the tree grows good fruit. JC is like the owner of the vinyard, and gives us mercy, if we can give it to each other.

"I believe the change we seek in ourselves and in the groups we belong to will come less by activism and more by actively trying every day to understand one another" because we're building zion.

As women, we have broad influence to remove prejudice and build unity. "I offer this invitation: be part of a collective force that changes the world for good." We're supposed to help others. "The women of this church have the potential to change society."

Rebecca M Craven

(I... I can't focus on this woman long enough to piece together what the fuck she's saying. Sorry.)

I think the overall topic is changing yourself to atone/repent.

Cristina B Franco

This year has given us many surprises that have left us broken.

Personal story about getting a piano. One of the delivery guys slipped and broke it. The delivery guys went back to arrange the delivery of a new piano, but her husband asked if it could just be repaired instead. The manager said "the wood is broken, and once the wood is broken, it can never sound the same."

We are like the broken piano, feeling broken and that we'll never be the same again. "However, as we come unto JC by exercising faith in him, repenting, and making and keeping covenants, our brokenness, whatever it's cause, can be healed [by the savior's healing power to make us better than we were.]." Faith in god heals us.

Story of Alma where god promised to ease their burdens.

(Really long quote from Alma that she doesn't source).

The savior is a refuge from the storm.

(Is there a rule that women can't have more than 20% original content in their talks? What is with all the quotes from other people, with barely anything to make them relate to each other?)

THAT'S MY HIGH SCHOOL CHOIR TEACHER DIRECTING THE SEPT 2014 CHOIR!!!

Bonnie H Cordon

JC is the light and the life of the world; the light that shines in the darkness.

Shit's been hard these last few months, but we see you praying and working hard to seek out JC.

Video

Gloomy shit and then "inspiring/soothing" pics of JC, then those same gloomy people are shown being happy while doing normal, everyday stuff. Lots of black people to show diversity and even a deaf woman signing in a video chat on her phone. (It's driving me crazy that i can't remember the song that's playing.) Then back to a pic of JC.

Henry B Eyring

"Every day we are approaching closer to the glorious moment when the savior JC will come to earth again."

"As the beloved daughters of heavenly father, and as the daughters of the lord JC in his kingdom, you will play a crucial part in the grand times ahead."

Prepare to live as the people in the city of enoch did.

Another unsourced quote of "what will happen in this last dispensation of the fulness of times": (was that wording really necessary?) dark skies, earthquakes, etc, but chosen people will be fine. They'll all be gathered into one place (that we could... maybee.... do something to? jk. unless...?).

Women will be at the heart of creating that society.

Quotes about the importance of women and the relief society.

Quotes about how pure and faithful the city of Enoch was.

"My experience has taught me that heavenly father's daughters have a gift to allay contention and to promote righteousness with their love of god and with the love of god they engender in those they serve." (fuck you)

Seeing a household without a preisthood member gave me glimpse of zion because the women were supportive and loving.

Why is it Oaks again?

"In the world, ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer, i have overcome the world."

Today, "we are also troubled on every side, and we also need that same message not to despair, but to be of good cheer."

JC knows your wants and fears.

"Be of good cheer."

Opposition is essential (anyone know of that musical 'my turn on earth' or am i just old? I've got 'opposition' stuck in my head).

Shit sucks right now. Covid and election shit, the election shit is bad "the most severe many of the oldest of us can ever remember." People are dealing with "the many adversities of mortality: poverty, racism, sickness, job loss, wayward children, bad/no marriages, and the effects of sin" but "be of good cheer." (broken record much?)

Poor JS had lots of adversities! But he still managed to "maintain his native cheery temperament and the love and loyalty of his people." The pioneers had it hard, too, but they still "were of hope and good cheer."

(If I heard this right) The orignal missionaries were sent out for up to 7 years.

The presidency loves you and cares about you and we pray for you (y'all should look up 'ill pray for you' by Jaron Lowenstein, btw. i promise it's hilarious).

"There is boundless power in the doctrine of the restored gospel of JC. Our unshakeable faith in that doctrine guides our steps and gives us joy. It enlightens our minds and gives strength and confidence to our actions. This guidance and enlightenment and power are promised gifts we have recieved from our heavenly father. By understanding and conforming our lives to that doctrine, including the divine gift of repentance, we can be of good cheer as we keep ourselves on the path of eternal destiny, reunion, and exaltation with our loving heavenly parents." (sidenote- I typed that quote really fast with very few mistakes and I'm very proud of myself. I'm sure I've never typed that fast and correctly in my life.)

Russel M Nelson

Shit's been hard and different than normal.

We greive with the women who have experienced loss.

Social media is evil for young women, but "many of you have found ways to encourage others and share our savior's light."

The future gonna be lit, yo.

"If ye are prepared, ye shall not fear."

"Moroni prepared his people in three essential ways:”

“1. He helped them create areas where they would be safe; places of security, he called them.” "Create a home that is a place of security."

“2. He prepared the minds of the people to be faithful unto the lord.” "Each time we have the faith to be obedient to god's laws, even when popular opinions belittle us, or each time we resist entertainment or ideaologies that celebrate covenant breaking, we are exercising our faith, which in turn increases our faith." "Life without god is a life filled with fear. Life with god is a life filled with peace."

“3. He never stopped preparing his people; physically or spiritually." "The adversary never stops attacking, so we can never stop preparing. The more self-reliant we are, temporally, emotionally, and spiritually, the more prepared we are to thwart satan's relentless assualts."

"We have so much to look forward to. The lord placed you here, now, because he knew you had the capacity to negotiate the complexities of the latter part of these latter days. He knew you would grasp the grandeur of his work and be eager to help bring it to pass. I am not saying that the days ahead will be easy, but I promise you that the future will be glorious for those who are prepared, and those who continue to prepare to be instruments in the lord's hands."

"Embrace the future with faith."

#exmo #ex-mormon #apostake #exmormon #mine #ex mormon #exchristian #ex christian #excult #cult stuff #exlds #ex lds #former mormon #ex religious #agnostic #gc october 2020 #gc summary

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stahlop · 5 years

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Once Upon a Time 2x11 “The Outsider” Review

Reviews 1x01 1x02 1x03 1x04 1x05 1x06 1x07 1x08 1x09 1x10 1x11 1x12 1x13 1x14 1x15 1x16 1x17 1x18 1x19 1x20 1x21 1x22 2x01 2x02 2x03 2x04 2x05 2x06 2x07 2x08 2x09 2x10

Holy crap! I’d forgotten that this episode happened so fast into the second half of season 2. Honestly, this seems like it would be more of a winter or end of season cliffhanger. Belle’s been shot and doesn’t remember who she is! Archie is rescued! Gold knows Hook is in town! We get the backstory of how Mulan and Phillip met (okay, that one I really didn’t need to know right this second), and how adventurous Belle decided to be in the few days of freedom she had between being Rumplestiltkskin’s maid and being captured by the Evil Queen. And someone from the outside has crashed into Storybrooke! Also, from this point forward, anytime Gold is with Belle, he will be referred to as Rumple since that is what she calls him.

Summary: Hook goes after Belle, who discovers his ship and Archie. In the EF, Belle meets Mulan and they go after the mythical Yaoguai.

Opening: Yaoguai

Character Observations:

Past Belle/Belle: So, I had this really long drawn out analysis of both Past and Present Belle written out that spanned almost three pages, when I realized that I could boil Belle down to bare bones. Past Belle is brave. She uses her book smarts not only to trick the Yaoguai hunters into believing that the Yaoguai lives near water (seriously, the thing is on fire, why would it live near water), but to also successfully find it’s actual habitat. She knows it’s nocturnal so she knows she can kill it while it sleeps. Unfortunately, for all her book smarts, looking down to see if a twig is there before stepping on it is not. This wakes the Yaoguai and she almost gets killed, but is luckily rescued by Mulan, who’s pissed at her for scaring away the beast she’s been tracking for weeks. Past Belle gets a little haughty that she found it in a day. In the village, Past Belle is almost killed by the hunting party, because they’re pissed she sent them to the lake (Past Belle is just pissing everyone off in this adventure), but Mulan comes and saves her. She’s impressed that Past Belle found the Yaoguai in a day and wants her help to find it again. Somehow they track it to a village that is on fire, but Mulan injured herself saving Past Belle, so she sends Past Belle to go kill the beast. Past Belle rightly tells Mulan that tracking/research is different than actually killing something, but Mulan gives some warrior spirit speech that inspires Past Belle. It looks like Past Belle might be setting herself up for failure when she gets the Yaoguai’s attention and makes it chase her, but she’s realized (or hoped) that water and the Yaoguai don’t mix, so she cuts down one of the water pipes and douses it’s fire mane. She then realizes that the poor thing is in pain and also writing Chinese characters that say Save Me, so she smartly throws the fairy dust Dreamy gave her on it, and low and behold, the Yaoguai is actually Prince Phillip. After hearing Phillip’s story about Maleficent cursing him so he’d be separated from his true love, Past Belle decides she needs to go fight for Rumple, even though he kicked her out and made her feel like an awful person. Unfortunately, the Evil Queen is waiting for her and takes her captive. Past Belle screams that she won’t stop fighting for Rumple.

Which brings us to the present, in which Belle will not stop fighting for Rumple despite the fact that there is nothing worth saving. Belle is so happy that he has finally figured out how to cross the border without losing his memories (Gold does not tell her how he figured this out). She goes to the library where Hook is waiting for her. And this is where the stupidity of this episode begins. Belle unlocked the door, yet she sees a stranger, with a hook, and wearing all leather in the library reading a book and all she can say is they’re not open yet? Then she finally realizes that it’s the guy that tried to kill her when she was the Evil Queen’s captive. She runs (smart) but he traps her around a book cart, so she throws it on him (smart again). Then she decides to trap herself in the elevator instead of running out the door. The elevator that can only move with someone controlling it from the outside. Not a smart move Belle. She attempts to call Rumple but he can’t hear her that well. Rumple finally gets to the library and Hook is gone by this point. He wants to go after Hook, but Belle tells him this is a problem for the sheriff. She asks about their feud and Rumple tells her it’s none of her concern. Thankfully, Belle gets a backbone and says it is her concern since Hook attacked her. Rumple reluctantly tells her that Hook stole his wife and Milah died and glosses over any significant details. They walk into the shop and it’s been torn apart. Rumple realizes that’s why Hook came after her. Hook has managed to steal the shawl that will let Rumple leave town. Rumple wants to go after Hook but Belle tries to stop him and figure some other way to get it. She wants to help, but Rumple berates her. He tells her to go back to the library until this all goes away. Belle finally wises up to how awful Rumple is and asks if he’ll put a spell on her to comply. But then he shows his concern for her and how he doesn’t want to lose her and she melts. Rumple gives her a gun for protection and she goes off to clean the library. Belle makes assumptions when finding a knot when cleaning up the books in the library. She deduces it’s a nautical knot, but if she’d looked any further than that, she’d see it could be used as a weapon or ornamentation, so that doesn’t necessarily mean Hook came on a ship. But whatever, she’s right, and she discovers the cloaked ship at the docks and stupidly decides to go on it without any backup (but at least she remembered to bring the gun). She discovers Archie and rescues him, but then, even though she hears someone on the deck, decides to a) put down her gun, and b) try to open a locked chest because she thinks the shawl is in there. Hook catches her and grabs her gun. Belle becomes an even bigger idiot by telling Hook she’s not afraid of him while he’s pointing a gun at her head. Now is not the time to be brave Belle! Hook gives her the lowdown about what really happened with Milah (the not stealing her), and Belle actually asks why Milah would leave him (have you not met Rumple?). Hook explains about Rumple being a coward and that Milah loved him and that he didn’t burn the shawl right away because Milah made it. Belle takes this moment of sadness to appeal to Hook that she’s sorry that she died but vengeance isn’t the way to go. Hook makes it very clear that Milah didn’t just die, that Rumple tore out her heart and crushed it in front of him, and Belle still doesn’t believe that Rumple is capable of that. Open your eyes, Belle! Hook wants to know how she can be with a man like that (don’t we all). She believes there is good in him (where?), she believes he’s changed, and she believes his heart is true (what the fuck?), and Hook’s is rotten, so she hits him with an overhanging oar which sends him flying, grabs the shawl, and heads toward the deck. Belle is surprised when Hook beats her to the deck of his ship (because it is his ship), but Rumple comes to the rescue. He starts beating the ever-loving shit out of Hook and Belle starts talking to Rumple like a small child who is doing something wrong. Belle is trying to convince Rumple that there is still good in him and that Hook is goading him into being who he used to be. Rumple finally relents when Belle asks him to prove she’s not wrong about him (oh, but you are Belle, so wrong), and practically drags him off the ship. She and Rumple drive out to the border and say their goodbyes, but right as Rumple’s about to leave, Hook comes out of nowhere and shoots Belle, who promptly falls over the border and loses her memory. Well, maybe she’ll finally see who Rumple really is through fresh eyes.

Gold: He’s just a complete asshole. Like, be evil, that’s fine, but his treatment of Belle is not warranted. Hook is completely right when he tells Belle he has to show his power and prove he’s not a coward anymore. There are only two scenes where I actually have feelings toward Gold: when Belle wonders if he’ll cast a spell to make her comply and he seems hurt because he doesn’t want to lose her, and when he’s trying to decide whether to be the man Belle wants him to be or kill Hook. Gold does a lot of despicable things in this episode. He pushed Smee over the town line to test his potion in retaliation for trying to send Belle over the line in The Crocodile, then he later turns him into a rat because he knows he’s working with Hook. Gold seems like such a classic abuser. He is constantly treating Belle like an object. He does not appreciate her mind (not that she’s using it very well), and he constantly berates her when it comes to how he is going to deal with things. He also chooses his words carefully when telling Belle things (like about Milah leaving him and how she died). They bicker more than they have good conversations. She’s already left him twice (We Are Both and The Crocodile), and he hasn’t learned to change either time, because he knows she’ll come back. He has discovered that with a certain potion poured over your most treasured object, you can cross the border without your memories converting back to your Storybrooke persona. Gold almost makes it to go find his son, but Hook shoots Belle, forcing her over the border so she’ll forget Rumple.

Hook: He’s just full of fun surprises this episode. It’s amazing how much depth his character pulls off. First he’s terrorizing Archie and trying to find out Gold’s weakness since Archie has no info about the dagger. Then, Archie must have told him about Belle and the library, because he shows up there to terrorize Belle. Once she locks herself in the elevator he apparently goes to ransack Gold’s shop to find the shawl that will help him retain his memories when he crosses the border. Later, when he finds Belle on his ship, he reveals that Milah left Rumple because he was a coward and Milah loved him. He should have burned the shawl immediately, but Milah made it and you can see how much having that shawl means to him. It’s something of Milah’s that he can physically hold onto. When Belle tells him vengeance against Rumple isn’t the answer just because Milah died, we get ultra sexy Hook with a gun. Seriously, the way he slides the gun towards Belle’s chest and then up to her forehead. Phew. Is it hot in here? The most seductive non-sexual scene ever. Unfortunately, Belle gets the drop on him (literally, she drops an overhanging oar on him), but he manages to beat her up to the deck, because it’s his ship and he knows his way around it. Gold shows up at this point and starts beating Hook with his cane. Hook seems to be enjoying the beating way too much, or maybe he just revels in the fact that Belle will see the monster Gold is and be done with him. No such luck. Hook asks Gold to rip out his heart and crush it so he can finally be with Milah, and Gold almost does it, but Belle convinces him not to. Gold tells Hook to leave and sail his ship until he falls off the edge of the world. Hook does not heed this advice. He follows Belle and Gold to the border and shoots Belle with the gun Rumple gave her for protection, causing her to fall over the border. Hook tells Gold that Belle may not be dead, but now she doesn’t know who he is. Karma comes in the form of a speeding car that crosses into Storybrooke and hits Hook, who goes over the windshield.

Mulan: We see that Past Belle had a little adventure with Mulan before getting captured by the Evil Queen. We don’t see much of a personality change between the Mulan we’ve met and past Mulan. Although she does talk about having to prove herself and something about a Warrior Spirit which doesn’t really apply to the situation at hand of Belle going to kill the Yaoguai. We do get to see how she and Phillip met though.

Henry/Emma/Mary Margaret/David: Henry is upset about Archie’s death and keeps calling Archie’s voicemail just to listen to his voice. Aww. At the reception for Archie’s funeral, the dwarfs want to know when they’ll be heading back to the EF. Emma reminds him that she and Mary Margaret just fought hard to get back to Storybrooke. Leroy doesn’t think it’s safe, plus, what if strangers get into the town and see magic? They’re also homesick. Emma decides that to get Henry out of his funk he’ll care for Pongo, in the tiny loft that houses the Charming family. Surprisingly, Mary Margaret and David are all for adding a dog to their family, but that prompts Mary Margaret to suggest that she and David move into their own place. Emma and David are surprised by this. Emma especially, because she thought after finally being reunited they’d all want to live together. I mean, I get where she’s coming from, but the loft has absolutely no privacy because there are no rooms. I’m with Mary Margaret on this. Also, with Emma’s background, I’m surprised she’d want to live with her parents considering she’s been on her own for 28 years. Mary Margaret says she did want to live together, but she imagined a bigger place, with turrets (love that line). Mary Margaret and David are looking at house listings, but David is shooting down every house she shows him. Mary Margaret realizes this isn’t about the houses. David confirms this by saying he doesn’t want to die in Storybrooke, he wants to go back to the Enchanted Forest. Mary Margaret tells him that there isn’t anything to go back to, but David wants to go back and fight for their kingdom. Mary Margaret is tired of fighting. David wants them to fight for what they really want, but Mary Margaret is beginning to realize they don’t want the same thing. Henry is taking them possibly moving out much easier. He’s making blueprints of what to do with the loft (including an armory). He wants the weapons to protect them from Regina, but Emma swears that Regina would never hurt him., she won’t let it. Henry is scared because she killed Archie, but Emma promises she won’t let Regina take him back. There’s a knock on the door and Pongo starts going crazy, and it’s Archie! He tells them it was Cora who kidnapped him (and he doesn’t seem that Cora is now in town after they thought she was stranded in the EF), and Emma is slowly realizing that Regina was framed, just like she thought. Henry wants to go tell Regina right away and Emma is afraid they’ll be paying the price regardless.

Questions:

It’s only been a day or two since Archie died and not only are they holding his funeral, but there’s a carved gravestone already?

How does Dreamy know Belle has only seen dark magic? She’s never mentioned the Dark One to him.

Why is Belle not more freaked out about someone in the library when she had to unlock the door to get it (the key is in her hand when she opens the door)?

Why couldn’t Hook get into the elevator? Even if he couldn’t figure out the whole pressing a button to open the door, couldn’t he have used his hook to pry the doors apart?

Belle and Gold have flip phones.

When did Belle have time to go shopping for new clothes and how did she pay for it? It’s not like Rumplestiltskin was paying her.

Where exactly is Belle supposed to be? The Yaoguai is a Chinese mythological beast, and Mulan says it attacked her village. Is the Enchanted Forest near their equivalent of China?

How does Hook know about the shawl and its significance? Is this one of those pieces of information that Smee just happens to collect?

Is Hook’s ship cloaked or invisible? Because if it’s invisible, there should still be an indentation in the water. But if it’s cloaked I don’t think the seagulls would be able to land on it.

Why is there a random box with sand on the docks? I don’t know enough about docks to know this and Google didn’t help at all.

Why is Archie calling out hello? Does he honestly expect someone other than Hook or Cora to be on the ship?

Is there another way off Hook’s ship besides the deck? If Hook was up there, shouldn’t he have seen Archie free and escaping?

Could the costume department not have used a magnetic earring for Hook instead of the clip on he’s so obviously wearing? The scene with him, Belle, and the gun was so amazing but all I could see was the stupid clip on.

What happened to the bow and arrow Mulan had on her originally? It’s never seen after she shoots at the Yaoguai.

So, I get why David wants to go back to the EF. It’s familiar and all he knows is being a shepherd and a prince. But why would he want to leave Emma and Henry? Does he think they would come with them to the EF? Why would he think they would go to the EF with them?

How did Archie know Pongo was at the loft? Did he go see Marco first and he told him where Pongo was? If so, why didn’t Marco warn Emma about Archie being alive?

Why is Gold planning to cross the town line at night? And he is planning on walking or taking his car with him? And if he is taking the car, how is Belle getting back to town?

Why does Claude tell the Evil Queen about Belle? Was she looking for Belle and Claude happened to be there? Did he seek out the Evil Queen specifically because of Belle? Was he working for the Evil Queen the entire time and knew she was looking for Belle?

What will Belle’s Storybrooke persona be? She didn’t have one before. She was just locked up in the psych ward for 28 years. I don’t think she even had a name.

Observations:

Hey, look! Belle is actually wearing something with sleeves, except it should be summer time.

We first see Belle the day after she met Dreamy in Dreamy, the Yaoguai is supposedly in a far off kingdom, so this whole adventure probably takes about a week.

The reward for the capture of the Yaoguai is 1000 gold pieces.

The library is finally opening to the public.

The phone in the elevator is an early phone, like the type when you put one piece to your ear and talked into the receiver attached to the wall.

Belle can read Chinese.

Hey! It’s Claude! Last seen on the pointy end of Hook’s hook in Queen of Hearts.

How convenient that the picture of the Yaoguai habitat in Belle’s book looks exactly like the one she finds.

Mulan needs a helmet that does not come off while she’s fighting.

The book Belle looks up the knot in is called: From the Keel Up: A Nautical Guide

The Monkey’s fist is a knot used as a weight making it easier to throw, or it’s decorative and used as an ornamental knot.

The fire in the village the Yaoguai has burned is in the shape of Chinese characters.

How nice that when these characters transform from some kind of beast they’re always fully dressed when back in human form.

The house listing that Mary Margaret and David are looking at is for a two storey (that’s how it’s spelled) house.

Emma seems neither concerned nor surprised that Cora is in town.

The license plate of the speeding car is from Pennsylvania and reads 2KFL-138. This is not how PA license plates read (I live in PA). PA license plates are ABC-1234.

Timeline:

So, this adventure with Past Belle happened a few days or weeks from when she left Rumplestiltskin’s castle. I’m not sure if she met the hunting party near Rumplestiltskin’s place and they traveled awhile before getting close to the Chinese village, or if the tavern she met Dreamy in happened to already be near the village. Either way, by the time the Evil Queen catches her, it has to have been at least a week. This is also when Phillip and Mulan meet and go search for Aurora. Now, considering the amount of tally marks in Belle’s cell from Queen of Hearts and going off those to assume that Belle was imprisoned at least 2 ½ years before the curse was cast, why did it take Phillip and Mulan that long to find Aurora when she was sleeping in her own damn castle? Aurora thinks she’s only been asleep for a year. Or has she not been cursed yet and Phillip and Mulan faced other challenges set forth by Maleficent?

This was another great episode, despite seeing the abusive relationship of Rumple and Belle. The episode was called The Outsider, and while I know that’s supposed to be the random person who drove over the border at the end, it also applies to Belle in the past. She doesn’t know where she fits in. She doesn’t want to go back to her father’s castle and be auctioned off for marriage, but she also isn’t ready to go back to Rumplestiltskin’s quite yet. Meeting Mulan, who is another outsider, gives her the push she needs to figure out where she belongs. Looking forward to the next episode to see who the outsider is and if Hook is alright. For a guy who could count the number of times he’s been bested on one hand, he’s been bested by Emma twice, Gold once, and now a car within a matter of weeks.

Please leave comments and reblog! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future reviews.

@searchingwardrobes @thisonesatellite @justbecauseyoubelievesomething @laschatzi @profdanglaisstuff @mariakov81

#once upon a time #once upon a time review #once upon a time rewatch #once upon a time 2x11 #once upon a time the outsider

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zeciex · 6 years

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Obsidian & Angelite Ch. 13

Oya has spend centuries bound to one single plot of land when one day a stranger with a voice of velvet and presence that can only be described as dark and outmost interesting. He comes with an offer she can’t refuse and suddenly her entire world changes, both for better and worse.

But what does Langdon need of her? And how can she use him to get what she want? Maybe they’re bound by something bigger than fate.

Warning: Dark themes, death

A/N: Since tumblr kills everything with links, I’ll reblog this post with the links to previous chapters and archive link I’ll need some extra love for these next chapters since its getting increasingly harder to find inspiration to write. We’re so close you guys!

Voodoo of New Orleans

The Louisiana air was hot and damp, it made you sweat and wish for a cool breeze. Oya had always hated when the air was damp, hated the way it made clothes stick to skin, the way it curled up her back and collected as sweat at the nape of her neck. She walked through the french quarter, black long pants ending just as her black heels began, a white airy shirt to top off the look. In hand were her old scratched up leather bag, containing what was left of her supply of candles, herbs and stones. People glanced after her as she walked through the crowd of tourists much like it did in venice.

It wasn’t before she reached a little shop called ‘sticks & stones’, its outside a faded green peeling off the wood, with big trimmed windows displaying all sorts of ‘magical’ things, most of which didn’t have any magical properties at all. Upon entering the air smelled of a mixture of dust and jasmine. The bell rang, alerting a newcomer had entered.

Oya dropped her bag at the register to wander further into the store with empty hands. She turned her nose at ‘magical potions’ and ‘holy candle lights’. The energy flowed through the room in an easy rhythm brought on by the few magical items that were.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Do you have snake oil?” She asked still turned to the table filled with stones and crystals. Her hands hovered over them to see which one emitted the most energy and stopped when it came to a sapphire, she picked it up and continuing until she held moonstones, hematite, carnelian and orange calcite, all of which would help her perform the ritual she had in mind.

“We do, is there anything else I can help you with?” the woman behind the front desk answered, turning to the many vials behind her. Her hair was beautifully braided, collected on top of her head and held together with golden pins. Around her body were various items for protection, love and stability, all in the fashion of bracelets worn all the way up her forearms, clicking together as she moved, and various necklaces around her neck. From her ears hung big golden hoops, as well a small one from her nose. They stood out against her darkened skin. If Oya didn’t know any better she’d have though her as a goddess blessed by the sun. But there was no magic in her blood, no more than all other humans.

“Your warding is off,” Oya commented rummaging through bagged herbs to find the ones she needed. The owner went silent, she could feel her eyes on her as she turned with some of the essentials she held, dropping them off at the register. “You should strengthen it, it won’t keep out evil spirits as it is.”

“What do you know about it?” Aisha, or so the necklace told, asked. The woman’s defences went up, her eyes studying Oya with interest and mild annoyance. Oya paid no mind to it and turned around to go through the aiels.

Most of the things sold were more souvenirs than anything else. Various masks with empty eyes glared at her, the crystal and stone skulls reminding of the inevitability of death, for some. A box was filled with voodoo dolls, best sellers from the look of it, from the ceiling hung dried herbs, blessings and curses with no magic bound to most of them, rosemary's and crosses. The store was a mix of cultures and mythologies but the most prominent was the voodoo aspect, as it should be for New Orleans. It is after all were witches sprung from once upon a time.

“I know a thing or two of warding. Do you have Balm of Gilead? Dragon’s blood? or maybe some pinto beans?” Oya asked, eyes running over the pendulums with various cut stones at the end. She already had one, it was old and not nearly as pretty but it was good and stayed true to what she needed it to do. Instead she picked up a bunch of candle lights, filling her arms with them before returning to the counter and the woman behind it. She gave her a soft smile.

“Is it okay the Dragon’s blood is a oil? The rest we have in solid form,” Aisha said, scuffing over the creaking floor to get what she asked.

“What do you know of the New Orleans coven?” Oya asked, dropping off the candles and continued to venture through the small store.

“Coven? You mean Miss Robichaux’s Academy?” A deep frown settled upon her face as she returned with the herbs, neatly packed in a fine paper and a bag. The wariness electrified the air, tension settling in her shoulders. Although she was young, something told Oya she was an old soul, one that had seen loss. “It closed down a year ago when the girls inside got massacred. The house remains closed off after that…”

“Do they know what happened?”

“...No, they never caught the ones who did it but the guess is, is that it’s a hate crime,” Aisha answered almost hesitantly. “What ritual are you planning to do with this?”

Oya shrugged and began putting the things on the counter in her bag with all her other things. The candles were by far the heaviest item but the bowls took up more space, still the bag was big enough to fit in a lot more. “It’s for scrying. I want to see what happened so that I can find the survivors.”

“You shouldn’t go there, they say the place is cursed,” she warned, pushing forth the bag with herbs, letting Oya take them with a soft smile. “They say the place is haunted by the witches who died there.”

“I’m sure that if they were ghost they’d have returned from the grave already,” Oya said, rummaging through the bag. “Witches tend to do that.”

“Who are you? Things like that you should leave alone, the darkness there you should leave alone. Spirits and necromancy you should leave alone.”

Oya looked straight at the woman in front of her. It was obvious that Aisha believed in energy, in herbal properties, in what her shop carried weather it was magical or not, but the notion of scrying into the past seemed too far fetched. Or just maybe she was worried that a client of hers would encounter whatever she believed to be at the academy. “You wouldn’t know me, my name has long been lost.”

“I’m warning you, don’t go there, don’t be white people stupid, there are spirits there, bad juju that should be left alone. My sister went there and she said the place was filled with bad energy, not even Marie Laveau would set foot in there, god rest her soul.” Aisha seemed desperate to keep Oya away, it was cute in a way, how humans can worry about another person they have just met. A smile widened on her lips trying to invoke a sort of trust with that woman, she was after all just worried on her behalf.

“Thank you for your concern,” Oya began, pushing a gold coin over the table, one of the ancient coins she acquired for her work years ago when they were used. It was the only money she had, this new from of currency in the form of a plastic card remained untouched by her, mostly because she never needed one. “but I’m far more capable than you think. I won’t be, what did you call it, ‘white people stupid’?”

“I tried to warn you,” Aisha muttered under her breath. “Don’t go blaming me when you end up dead.”

Oya took the bag and turned to walk out the door but stopped when Aisha called after her in an angry tone, her brows know knitted together in fury rather than worry. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You gotta pay for that!”

Confused Oya nodded towards the coin on the desk. “I did. It’s worth more than these items are worth.”

“I can’t take this,” Aish yelled, picking up the coin and waving it through the air. “What the hell, lady! I don’t even know what this is!”

“It’s a gold coin from early mesopotamia,” Oya answered with a huff, dropping the bag to the ground and walking back to the register. Maybe it’d be best to remove the memory of this in case the coven doubles back and senses her energy there, they might find a way here and she did prefer to remain in the shadows. Letting out a breath, Oya unfolded her energy, letting it wrap around the woman who stilled in trance. She reached over the counter, softly placing her fingertips at the temple, her suntouched skin standing out against the smooth dark skin of Aisha’s. Small electric tethers sprung from the touch, searching through her mind to wrap around the memory. Ever so slowly Oya pulled her fingers from the temple to hold them in front of her. Small silver pedals bloomed against the skin of her fingers, only visible to the eye of those who possess excessive magical properties.

“What are you holding?” Aisha asked quietly, eyes glossed over in trance.

“I’m holding your memory of this, for your protection and mine. It’s a small thing, the memory. When pulled from the brain it’s a fully blossomed flower, silver pedals so fine you can see through them. They don't wither, instead they fold in on themselves as if it’s blooming in reverse until it’s a small fine pearl. There are many ways to do this but this by far is the most beautiful,” Oya answered with fascination of the pearl now formed between her fingertips. “You can keep the coin, it’ll bring you great fortune and though it will not save you from the future it will make your present more fun.” She turned, letting the pearl be hidden by softly cut moonstones the size of the coin she had just parted with, pushing it to the bottom. She had no use for that memory, keeping it with her would be a waste. Some things are better hidden in plain sight. Oya withdrew her energies on her way out of the store.

Finding Miss Robichaux’s Academy would prove easier that she thought, the place famous for coming out as witches, the only school for witchcraft in the world, or rather, the only school known for it. It was famous for that and infamous for the tragedy that happened within its walls.

The house stood tall and proud with its columns and white walls standing out against the green bushes surrounding the premise and the dark spiked fence that caged it all in. From the outside it looked like the rest of the houses on the street, expensive and upper class, with the common Louisiana air surrounding it. Behind her the taxi speed away, leaving her alone on the pavement overlooking it with an wary eye.

Sweat beaded on her neck, it made the white shirt stick to her back uncomfortably. Hair stuck to her skin, the ponytail proving to not help against the humid air. Her eyes landed on the gate in front of her, on the chains and padlock wrapped around the bars to keep people from entering. With a fick on her wrist the padlock sprung open and fell to the ground with the sound of scuffing metal following it the way down and continuing after it had stopped by the chains following in its path. The gate opened with a loud groan, the mental complaining.

With one single step over the barrier the air changed as if all the oxygen had been pulled out and replaced with a void. It seemed stale, with no mention of life, no vibrance at the presence of magic. It crept along her spine and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand in spite of being stuck to her skin.

Oya passed over the fine stone path, the grass withered and overgrown, reaching towards the sky in the hope of a drop of water. She neared the porch, the floorboards creaking beneath her feet, groaning at her weight.

In front of her were the reminands of a voodoo ritual for breaching a barrier of protection, a bowl with the contents rotting away, traces of ash and blood on the dark wood. It was a spark of magic, nothing more, a faint rippel overshadowed by the empty void that lingered in the air.

With a sigh she hitched the bag up to get a better grip of it, her palms sweaty and unable to keep a proper hold of the heavy thing. The door opened screaming to the sky for oil on it’s hinges and it screamed again as it closed behind her. Inside the house the void became more apparent and for a moment it took her breath away. The air inside was a complete contrast of the outside, it was cold and dry, small specks of dust gleaming through the rays of light that slipped in between the skotters. It smelled dusty and illventilated, and of course it would, there had been no one here since the investigation wrapped up. Everything was covered in a fine layer of white dust. With each step she took she made footprints over the hardwood floor.

She followed her instinct that lead her to what would have been the dining hall, with a long table placed in the middle of the room, a white ghosty cover thrown on top of it in an attempt to keep the dust from settling on its surface. Though by the look of it, the surface would already have been ruined. Around the floor chairs was scattered, some tipped over while others were forced to the corners furthest from the table.

Traces of blood lingered on the wood speaking of the tragedy that happened within its blood splattered walls, with white chalk lines were drawn around where the body would have been.

She took a step into the room and felt something beneath her shoe. It was an old nail, it’s tip bloodied. Not far from it were the remains of aquamarine and shell casings. There should have been energy knitting in the air, magic reminands remaining in a place like this, there should have been something. But the void hollowed it out, carved into the seams of energy and killing them before they formed. Where there had been life there should be embers left of it, fragments of it, especially with so many witches.

Oya dumped the bag on top of the table, opening it up and placing the content in the open. Everything was placed neatly and in order, the black candles standing out against the white, the dark ceramic bowl a circle and the herbs and stones placed neatly and ready for usage.

Instead of beginning the ritual something drew her attention. She followed it up the stairs, past the blood stain on the floor and through the ghostly halls. A mixture of her own herbs burned as sage in her hand, the white smoke dancing in ever changing patterns in front of her. She passed through a door and into one of many bedrooms. It was faint, the fragment of magic, but it was there.

Upon entering further into the room she noticed the burns in the floor. It wasn’t the fragment she was looking for but it did speak of powerful magic. Her incense filled the room with a varied smell of burning herbs, it continued to fill the room with smoke when she put it down on the bedside table, she caught onto remnant.

“Papa Legba,” she mused in thought.

A shadow passed over the walls, followed by a dark laugh. Magic filled the air, electrified it and tickled over her skin. One moment she had been alone the next she was joined by a powerful presence.

“It is not every a goddess speaks my name,” a dark voice with heavy accent spoke, each word formed a particular way she could not place. Oya turned and watched the dark shadow’s owner, a black man who wore white warpaint that framed in his red eyes. Dreads draped over the shoulders of his tux jacket, underneath a white shirt ruffled up. Power emminated off of him in surges. She raised a brow at him, eyes watching with caution as he took a seat, placing both hands on top of his cane.

“Papa Legba?” She asked, taking a seat on the bed. Whatever he came here for it was not to harm her. Though his power was dominant and mighty, her own reached just as wide as his, if not more.

“That is my name,” he smile an alligator smile. A demigod like him didn’t fit into the frame of the Robichaux witches, none of the practiced voodoo or any variation of that. It was more likely that any voodoo practitioner in the french quarter would call for him than these witches and still, somehow, they knew of him, had called him.

“Why are you here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, mon cheri,” he answered. Something about him made her heart speed up, not that she’d let it show. “I was down in hell when I heard your voice speak my name and I just had to see if the rumors were true.”

“Rumors?”

“The goddess of the underworld is back,” he answered and offered another smile, red eyes gleaming. “What is you doing here, child?”

“I wanted to see if I could find the witches,” she said, folding her hands in her lap. Papa Legba laughed, the sound carrying itself up the walls, booming through the room with a dark base. “You’ve had dealings with them, why else would your reminands be here?”

Papa remained silent, watching her with eyes of a predator. He reminded her of an alligator, its eyes shining through the dark of night, revealing the presence of strong jaws and endless teeth. But he also felt strangely familiar, not in the way that they knew each other but in the way they stood equal, a goddess of a forgotten religion that gave birth to the one that would overshadow it and the other a demigod of a religion just as forgotten, with myth being the only thing to carry the tales of him.

“Do you know where the witches are?”

“An answer like that demands a steep price,” he spoke.

“Tell me the price and I’ll pay,” she exclaimed quickly, cutting Papa Legba off from continuing. He grinned at her, not minding her sudden outburst but rather finding it entertaining.

“An answer like that demands a steep price,” he repeated, “If only I knew the answer. I do not know where the witches has gone, they have hidden themselves and are beyond my reach.”

She wrinkled her nose, letting out a sigh at the setback. She should have known, in a way she did, the expectations to find something not even the devil himself could were highly unlikely. Michael had told her they were gone, finding them were unlikely but when he had told her he were to attend a meeting, she took the opportunity to travel to Louisiana to see for herself.

And maybe it was just not for seeking the witches, but to see what she was up against.

“It can’t only be out of curiosity you come here,” Oya said with suspicion laced in her voice.

“Why not?” He questioned, tilting his head a little. The necklaces he wore sounded off, bones clicking into each other. If he were an alligator she was a serpent.

“You said there were rumors of me,” she continued, dismissing his question for one of her own. “What rumors?”

“The queen of the underworld walks upon the earth once more, no longer bound,” he answered her. His accent turned most ‘t’s into ‘d’s, shaped off the words into something softer and yet clear. “You kingdom awaits you. It may be smaller than what the previous queen had but it is still there.”

“My kingdom can wait, I still have much to do here.”

“Mmm, with the antichrist,” Papa hummed at her, leaning back in the chair that groaned beneath his weight. “Your kingdom will not grow if he is the one to end this world.”

A frown formed on her face, brows knitted together in question. “What do you mean?”

“You do not know?” Now it was his turn to be surprised, or rather act like it. Something about him told her that he knew things she’d never know, a keeper of secrets, one who saw the strings and knew where they lead. She supposed he should, being who he was. “Every life you take, child, brings their soul to your kingdom.”

It took a moment of confusion until it dawned on her. “If the world is whipped out by the bombs the souls would either go to heaven or hell and my kingdom, the underworld, will never grow.”

“For it was not you who took their life,” Papa finished. Oya mused over it, biting her lip in thought.

“What of you? Do you have a kingdom?”

“I am but a demigod. I stand between this world and hell. No, I do not have a kingdom…” he answered her. He did not have a kingdom but he had many souls beneath him, many helpers, soldiers, whatever he needed. Satan gave him orders, he was the boss of hell, but that didn’t mean Papa didn’t have any power down there. Not at all.

She suppose that’s what would happen if she didn’t claim her throne, if her kingdom dwindled in to nothing, that she’d take up as a part of hell, be a glorified crossroad demon. As other religions fell, so did their worlds. If Oya hadn’t been born with the blood of Ereshkigal, if she hadn’t been reborn with her soul, her underworld would have succumb to hell.

Maybe that was why her powers lashed out, to make a mark, however little it was, that it should still remain. She killed thousands and now their souls were hers.

She killed her mother.

“My kingdom may not grow in the underworld, Papa, but it will grow in this world,” She voiced with confidence. Papa smirked at her, no more and no less.

“The antichrist would give you a crown?” He questioned and lifted his cane only to immediately drop it to the floor with a click. “Would call you his queen?” Click. “Will see you as equal?” Click.

“Yes,” Oya said and stood. “If he give less than I deserve he will pay.”

“I am sure he will,” Papa said, watching her movements. Oya passed through the room, towards the door. There was nothing left to be said, Papa had planted his words and seen them cropped when they set root. Oya was confident in her stance with Michael, confident in his words.

“Goodbye, Papa Legba,” She said, turning to look over her shoulder as she had reached the door. Legba remained seated, sending her an alligator smile, eyes red and gleaming.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Cheri,” His voice were soft. Papa drew in a breath as she stood, his shadow passing over the walls in an unnatural way, a faint sound of hissing seemingly coming out of nowhere. “I hope to see you again soon and with crown this time.”

Papa disappeared in front of her eyes, taking his shadow and the hissing with him. It was in the moment of farewell Oya realised everything had been spoken in korean, in her native tongue, it left a strange knot where her heart was.

In the air lingered his presence, the touch of his magic, ancient and otherworldly. Oya closed the door after her, passing through the halls as silently she could with her heels clicking against the floor.

As she came into the dining hall all the candles lit up, casting a warm glow through the empty house, lights and shadows dancing on the white walls. In the chermetic bowl she placed the herbs she had purchased, pouting snake oil over the dried up content. In the bowl she crushed bone of a goat, then added an oil she herself had made, one to open up the mind. Oya ran two finger through the sticky content, lifting them to her eyes and drawing circles around her eyes.The mixture was then crushed together into a liquid, one that’d make a person's stomach turn by the smell of it, even more so when she put it to flame.

Blue flames licked the air, slowly dissipating into heavy smoke than poured over the sides of the bowl, fell thickly onto the table to its edge and then to the floor. Soon the entire room was covered in white smog so thick the dark hardwood floor was gone. Oya spoke in tongues, words long forgotten forming on her lips to be send out into the room. She held her hands over the bowl, swaying back and forth to tempt the past to come forth. Her magic filled the room, every cavity that had been left. A sudden jitter went through her and when she opened her eyes once more, they had gone completely white.

The room became fully lit, no longer were the light withheld by shutters, the white covers gone so that she could fully see the antique table. Nails and stones were scattered over the wood, scratching up its surface in an unholy way. At the end of the table opposite her were a woman, hair grey and pinned up, her skin wrinkles and covered in wounds. A girl cried to her side, clawing her way over the floor only to be stopped by a bullet coming from a black cladded woman, a woman whose face she didn't recognize nor did she care to look properly. Instead her eyes turned to Michael, passing through the room with his hands folded behind his back, hair a shorter halo that what she was used to. He stepped over the bodies of the witches as if they were nothing more than mere obstacles. Michael turned towards her, his tongue behind his lip as he inspected the death around him.

She watched as a girl ran through the opened doors and up the stairs, a bullet painting her white shirt red, then another to bring her down. Oya’s heart raced, death clung to the air, filled it with a cold touch, skellet fingers trailing up her spine. Death was something, it was of substance while the void she had felt were nothing. Death clawed at the wooden floors, painting the world in red, life snuffed from a full fire ablaze to embers. Embers were still something.

One moment the room was full of light, of red, of death and then the next it was dark, the moon casting a ghostly light into the room. Oya watched as a blond woman, cheeks stained with sorrow, lips quivering with pain, walk through the room. Her hands shook. When she saw one of the witches on the floor she fell to her knees with a cry that cut through the air.

Oya neared her, feeling how death had left the room, replaced with the vast void of nothing. All embers of life were gone, snuffed out. It was as if Michael had poured water over life's fire until even the embers, the smallest traces of life, were gone completely. There were nothing in these bodies, no tether for the soul to find its way back to, no fragments of life or traces of the soul. There were nothing.

It clung to her, strained Oya’s breath as fear flared up in her chest. She gripped one of the chairs to hold herself up, but found her hand went through it. Oya fell to her knees beside the only life within the house. The woman leaned down trying to breathe life back into the younger witch, to no avail. Her breath were mere air, no magic could bring back what no longer existed. She tried desperately, choking out cries when nothing happened.

Whatever Michael had done it was permanent. He had taken their life and extinguished their souls. There were nothing left of them, nothing for heaven and nothing for hell. Just nothing. It reminded her of the Inbetween, the vast empty but there was a difference, the Inbetween was something.

Oya found herself kneeling on the floor, hands gripping at the wood but hidden by the white smog. Slowly it began to lift, what was hidden beneath revealed. White floors stained by blood. It took a while to compose herself enough to stand and when she did, she gripped the table and used it as clutch while her mind spun.

The vision had told her nothing of where the witches were but it did reveal a fearsome truth. Michael had the ability to erase someone completely. What she feared wasn’t Michael nor really his intent with the ability but rather the erasement itself. The trust she held him didn’t waver.

But she did feel a twig of sympathy for the mourning witch. To see her loved ones gone, erased from every world. It was nothing but a mere afterthought, the witches had caused far greater pain, to her they were no allie nor anything resembling a friend. Witches were the ones that bound her, they were the one who conspired so much pain and agony, they saw themselves as inherently good, just like they thought their magic were. But magic were neither good or bad, it was not light or dark, magic was neutral in every way, it was the intent behind them that painted them one way or another.

With a sigh she pushed away the bowl and found another one, placing the same herbs and ingredients as the one she had done at home. If the witches were to come back she’d know.

It was the last thing she did before leaving, now with a lighter bag.

#michael langdon #michael langdon fic #michael langdon imagine #ahs apocalypse #ahs fic #obsidian & angelite

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dailyaudiobible · 6 years

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11/12/2018 DAB Transcript

Ezekiel 24:1-26:21, Hebrews 11:1-16, Psalms 110:1-7, Proverbs 27:14

Today is the 12th day of November. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I’m Brian. It is a pleasure and an honor and a joy to be here in your presence and all of us together in the presence of God to take the next step forward as we hear from His word. This week we’re reading from the Voice Translation. And we’ll go back into the book of Ezekiel, which is what we’re working our way through right now. Ezekiel chapter 24 verse 1 through 26 verse 21 today.

Commentary:

Okay. So, as we continue our journey through the book of Hebrews we came to a very famous passage of Scripture today but also very, very important territory because we began to discuss what is necessary to enter into and continue to be engaged in a personal relationship with God. And that component is faith. So, like, not to be anti-climatic because we’ve been talking about…like this is not the first time that we've encountered this concept in the New Testament or in the Bible, right? We’ve examined it from all kinds of directions as we move through the writings of the apostle Paul. But Hebrews gave us this really succinct and, like I said, famous definition of exactly what we’re talking about when we’re talking about faith in the Bible. Faith is the assurance of things you have hoped for, the absolute conviction that there are realities you have never seen. So, in other words, faith is what allows us to see a reality and begin to live into that reality even though it is not reached its fullness or completion. It gives substance to what is still incomplete or unseen. And if this is faith, which it is, then we have to admit that, as human beings, we’re equipped for this. We all have faith in things we cannot see. Like love. We can't see love but who among us would deny that it exists? Or tomorrow. Like suns gonna come up tomorrow. Like, we can't see that yet. We wouldn’t be able to say for a fact that's gonna happen, but we don't question whether that daylight will come to the earth in the morning. So, we’re a people of faith. Like, we’re constantly practicing faith every single day one way or another. So, but the point the writer of Hebrews was trying to make wasn’t whether or not faith existed. Then or now, few people would argue that there is a thing called faith. The point was that faith had always been part of the Hebrew story. It had always been the essential piece. It was something that preceded any law, rule, or ritual, or behavior. And, so, because of that, it must be a foundational thing to our existence with God. And that was a very important point for the writer of Hebrews. So, we began to be led down a corridor and we’ll continue down that corridor for a bit, like going into tomorrow and beyond. We just started walking down it today and it's been lovingly named the hall of faith, right? So, it was by faith that Able brought a more acceptable offering to God. It was by faith that Enoch was taken to heaven without dying. It was by faith that Noah built a large boat to save his family from the flood. It was my faith that Abraham obeyed when God called him to leave home and go somewhere that was promised but somewhere that he’d never been before. It was by faith that even Sarah, who was too old to have children, had a child who was Isaac, the son of promise. So, the hall of faith is gonna continue, and that’s what we’ll be reading tomorrow when we get to the New Testament, but we can already see that the writer of Hebrews was starting at the beginning of Genesis, like was starting at the beginning of the story and started working forward through the stories that are found in Hebrew scriptures. And the point was to reveal that faith had always been the activator. Like it was always the essential piece. And, so, why is this point being brought up? Because it will take faith…it would take faith to enter into a new covenantal relationship with God through Jesus. And it would take faith to hold onto that relationship because people were suffering a lot of marginalization and persecution. And, so, it was gonna take faith. And the point was, this isn't something new. It had always…faith was always required. So, the hall of faith that we’re walking down, this isn’t like the superhero list, right? We’re not just renaming people that did amazing things that we've already encountered in the Bible. These are not people who were exceptions. They’re people who are examples for all of us. Faith was the activator in their stories and we're not going to get anywhere without faith in our story. Or to quote the writer of Hebrews, “without faith no one can please God, because the one coming to God has to believe that He exists and that He rewards those who come seeking.” So, you know, this is like foundational stuff to the Christian faith to the point that we just kind of gloss over or very easily take for granted something that seems bedrock, has always been a part of what we've understood our faith to be. But let's take some time today to think about what exactly we have put our faith in because, like we said at the beginning of just talking today, we are a people of faith. We put our faith in all kinds of stuff, but slowing down enough to really ask ourselves functionally, what am I really putting my faith in? I mean, maybe you feel like your faith is just, you know, like paper thin, like you can see right through. Usually that's because we put our faith in an outcome, like we’re expecting. Like, we have faith in God but we’re expecting Him to do something on our behalf and it's something specific. And that's not wrong. Like, we’re all forever going to be in need of God's involvement in our lives. But when our faith is in an expectation, right? When it's in a specific outcome, then it's not in God, it’s in the outcome and what we expect God to do. And like, real, true, deep, abiding, honest, authentic faith, it will always take the long view that extends beyond what we may ever see in this lifetime. Like it hopes beyond our time that we get to reside on earth, beyond our mortality and it reaches for God alone. So, let’s invite the Holy Spirit as we consider the purpose of our faith, but also what it is we’ve put our faith in, where it is that our hope actually lies.

Prayer:

Father, we invite You into that. It seems trivial even, maybe simple at the outset. We’re here every day. We’re hearing from Your word. You’re speaking to us. So, it's sort of like, our faith is in You and You alone. And we declare this in our prayers all the time. However, giving us the invitation to really consider all of the different components and compartments of our lives, all of the different places that we’ve put our faith in a person, in an outcome, in a thing, in an eventuality, we need to be able to see and name those things because we want to please You. And without faith in You we will not be able to. And if that is disconnected, then all of the other things that we put our faith in, they are going to vanish and disappear from us. It is only our faith in You and You alone that will give us hope forever. So, come Holy Spirit we pray. Lead us into all truth. We ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

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

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi, this is Terry from Southern California. Hi Daily Audio Bible family. I just wanted to lift up Heidi from Washington. And I just heard you pray for your son Ezra and how you’re…you know…you want us to stand in the gap for him and, you know, that he’s been going through a lot, but you also told us that, you know, he has 32 days of sobriety from his addiction. And, so, we just want to claim the promises over his life just like you did when you named him Ezra based upon Ezra chapter 7:10, that he will teach the statutes to those who want to come to know the Lord. And I believe in the valley right now, God will give a mountaintop experience with your son Ezra. So, we just want to stand in the gap with you, Heidi, and let you know that we are praying for you and I will continually lift up Ezra in my prayers. And family, I just want to thank you for your continual prayers for my son Josh. He’s 14, who has his own struggles with school but, you know, Josh did go to school four days straight this week and that’s a blessing and that’s a victory because that hasn’t happened in a while. So, I look forward to just sharing a praise report, you know, for Joshua’s success in school for his own __ and his anxiety. And I just thank you guys. __ California, today’s…I think it’s like November the 9th and it’s a beautiful day. So, I hope wherever you guys are at it’s a beautiful day as well. It always is because we bask in the love of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. So, have a blessed day family. Bye.

Hello, good morning Daily Audio Bible. This is Brave from New Jersey. I’ve been a longtime listener, first-time caller, I’m nervous. I’m calling to ask my brothers and sisters to pray for me as I’m trying to make some funds to pay for my daughter’s college fees coming up soon. I’m building a little house, so I can rent it and make some money to pay for her school but I’m living in a town that is completely hostile to the progress. They’re riddling me with fees and fines __. I’m spending all my living on my retirement on this place, so I can have it done but it is not happening. I need you to pray for me please brothers and sisters, that I can finish the place in time for my daughter to go to school in one year, to college, and so I shouldn’t have to borrow and to be living with debt. Please Lord help us I pray. Thank you, brothers and sisters. Thank you, Daily Audio Bible family. Thank you, Brian for helping and for what you do. Thank you, Jill. Thank you, family. Amen.

God, we pray for victims of sexual abuse. We pray for healing. We pray for deep comfort. We pray that You will restore what has been stolen and broken. While You do not alter history, You reveal Your love in the presence and the future where things hopelessly shattered in You can be redeemed. For the many millions who have been defiled in sexual abuse, show Yourself to be loving and able as You are willing to give back life and life abundant. Yes, there is great pain in the world, there is injustice, there is evil. We turn to You and cry out for help and healing. We cannot help but wonder why such horrible abuse happens, but we turn from why and ask instead, how. How now, will Your perfect goodness and love find expression in the shadow of such wickedness. God, You are good and loving and also all-powerful, yet You have risked giving humans the right to choose how we will live. Some choose evil. For those who are victims of others vile deeds we ask for Your grace and healing. For those who have suffered, come to them tenderly with overwhelming and powerful love. We join Jesus and borrow his words, be freed from Your suffering. God heal the victims of sexual abuse in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Hi family it’s Shannon from Texas and I wanted to call and give a praise report about Madison that I called in about. The Lord blessed immediately, as He always does, even if we don’t see it, He always does. My little Cherie…His little Cherie…you’re my little Cherie too…but you’re His little Cherie. I heard you and the Lord heard you and anyone else who prayed also, she immediately stopped talking to the boy that she was talking to and she’s gotten involved in…she’s been involved in…but she is now more involved…she’s going on a trip this weekend with young life, they call it wildlife for her age group. And she’s going on a trip with them. I’ve been giving her rides and things like that. And she went last night with me. A friend of mine passed away tragically. She went with me to the funeral home. And she’s just so sweet and hugged the family. And she just fits in everywhere she goes. And she’s just amazing and she’s doing better just much better and I think is amazing that she’s going to this church group. And just, kind of, keep praying because the main thing is just her slowing down when it comes to boys and just having some real connections and her mom getting some stability. And that’s hard where we live. There’s not a lot of places for women to work. And my dream is to provide that. I worked in social work for a while they hated my faith. They hated my faith. So, right now I don’t know where I’m going, what I’m doing, and I don’t have anything going and I know the Lord’s had a plan. So, pray for that me as well. And I love you all and I’m praying for all of you with the faith that it is finished, it is done, His will is perfect. Love you, love you.

Hello, everyone it’s Jay from Nashville Tennessee. It’s been quite some time since I called in, but I have been listening and I have been praying. I’m praying for the first-time caller, I think he said his name is Jim. He was calling to seek prayer and intercession for his dad who served his country and his family and is recovering from some surgery. So, I’d like to lift him up. Heavenly Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, lord God we love you so much and we praise you and we honor you and we bless your holy name today. God, we lift up this man’s father, we lift up his condition, we lift up surgery. We lift up the recovery to you God. You are in control of all things. You are the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. So, you are in this. You know about this. So, now we call upon you and your power and your grace and we intercede for this man. In the name of Jesus, Christ we pray. Amen. Sorry guys, I haven’t been calling in. I really don’t have an excuse. I literally have just been lazy. So, I’ll be calling in every day for the next 30 days. Alright…

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palestinianliberator · 6 years

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Story of our family’s blood curse

OKAY SO I didn’t realize how detailed this was until I actually sat down to try and write about it...but I’ll try to keep things juicy and concise.

It’s important to preface this by saying that in my village, there are three major families, or “clans”. There’s Manasrah, which my family hails from, Saramah, and Awowda. These clans supersede the immediate family units, and are incredibly unified and caring of one another.

The story starts with my grandma Mohdia and her three brothers, Musa [also known as Moses], Yousef, and Tawfik.

My grandmother spent her whole life in Palestine, very rarely leaving, while her brothers moved around the world to find work - Tawfik and Yousef moving separately to the US, and Musa moving to El Salvador where he started a family and became known as “Moses al-Arabiy” [Moses the Arab].

Yousef had 5 sons and and 4 daughters, one of his sons were Waleed and one of his grandkids was Khaled. Waleed was a good kid, working with his father and helping to support both his family, while Khaled was a gambling alcoholic who would beg friends and family for money. Yousef’s wife [who hails from the Saramah clan] had a daughter from a previous marriage who herself had a son, Mohammad. This daughter and son were not a part of their new family [my family basically], as they were loyal to her biological father of the opposing clan and remained with them. I KNOW THIS IS PROBABLY CONFUSING BUT BEAR WITH ME!

One day in the mid to late 1960s, Khaled went up to Mohammad, who was a wealthy man, and asked for money. Mohammad denied him and apparently chastised his behavior and inability to support himself. Khaled, drunk and furious at the slight, gunned Mohammad down and ran off, going into hiding.

Now my village is INCREDIBLY strict when it comes to dishing out justice, and they take family honor and alliances very seriously - when it came out that Khaled was responsible for the murder of Mohammad, our family offered up his life to make things even, knowing that he was guilty of murder and should face punishment for what he’d done. Not everyone agreed with this, but it was seen as the best way to keep things from escalating. Khaled was then executed, and after a period of mourning for both victims, things went back to normal.

Except that the mother and uncle of the family friend that was murdered weren’t satisfied. Keep in mind, my grandma’s brother/my “uncle” and my family are of the Manasrah clan, while the murdered man and his bereaved family were from the Saramah clan.

The mother, distraught at the loss of her successful and beloved son, went out into the village declaring that God had not allowed true justice to prevail, and that she would cast a blood curse on Yousef [her mother’s new husband], his family, and his entire lineage, and that she would seal it with blood so that nobody will ever forget the crime committed against her, her family, and her clan. Think of how serious and committed someone must be to go out and publicly speak of blood magic in a relatively conservative village like this - she wasn’t joking around. Not long after this, she disappeared completely.

Things remained somewhat tense, but overall okay.

Several years later, however, one of Yousef’s kids was killed under “unknown circumstances”, his body dumped in the street. The general consensus was that the family of Mohammad, the man killed previously, was responsible, but otherwise nothing solid and things eventually moved on.

In retrospect, that was the “blood” that sealed her curse.

Now switching gears and going back to Moses al-Araby, my grandma’s other brother living in Bolivia. He was involved in leftist revolutionary movements and opposed the US backed government that took over following the coup in 1964. I don’t know too many details about his life, but I hope to learn more as I reach out to family still in Bolivia in the future. Anyways, after the collapse of the organization Moses was involved in, he went into hiding.

Several years later, sometime in the mid to late 60s, Tawfiq [the last of my grandma’s brothers] travelled with his son to Bolivia to meet with Moses, not knowing ANYTHING of his involvement with leftist revolutionary groups, and not being involved in any sort of political movements himself. Tawfiq was falsely identified as Moses, and was assassinated along with his son by a hit squad. Moses used this as an opportunity to flee the country, going into hiding in the Middle East for a period, before he himself was eventually killed by Israeli forces in the late 80s.

Now back to Yousef, who in the late 70s was living in Idaho with his wife and some Waleed, where they owned a jeans and fashion store. One day, both Yousef and his 25 year old son Waleed were assassinated in a case that, to this day, remains an “unsolved murder”. The funny thing is, we know who did it, and we know where this individual currently lives.

Anyways, it was made well known that the assassination of both Yousef and Waleed was still part of the mother’s payback, and she followed through with her threat to murder her biological mother’s new husband. This entire time, however, she remained missing. She was never seen again after her initial threats of a blood curse. The building where Yousef and his son was assassinated is know known as a “haunted location”, a building in which future tenants have claimed to here voices and shouting, and where a man eventually hung himself. You can read about some of that bit here. So it’s great to know that if I ever want to visit my distant uncle, I can find his spirit in that building.

The body count at this point is 7, including the original murder and murderer.

Given this brazen attack on our family, and given that we knew the two men responsible for the murder, our clan decided to strike back. One of the two murderers was killed and his body hidden in a dessert in Las Vegas. you can read about that in the link above^. I don’t know who was responsible exactly, but it’s common knowledge that it was all in connection to the assassination of Yousef and his son.

Man there is so much more that I’m glossing over, but I’m trying to keep this from turning into a novel x_x.

There’s an ENTIRE other story about how this back and forth killing led to a feud so big that the IDF had to storm Deir Dibwan to resolve things, all sparked by two more killings tied to clan relations with this blood curse/feud.

By the end of the initial killing spree, each of my grandmother’s brothers had been murdered, with people at this point blaming the blood curse, and hoping it was the end.

Well...it wasn’t.

In the years since - two of Yousef’s sons died in car accidents, and a third was gunned down in a random attack. One of his daughters died with her family in a house fire.

One of Moses’ kids was gunned down in Bolivia under unknown circumstances.

Two of Tawfiq’s kids lost ALL of their money in different ways, leaving their families in shambles. One of his daughters committed suicide.

One of Tawfiq’s grandkids, the ~rapper~ Mally Mall [who is my cousin lol] had his house burn down, killing his pet wildcat.

Another of Tawfiq’s kids just went missing one day, and was never found.

One of Tawfiq’s grandkids also went missing, but he was eventually found in his car, which had been set on fire with him inside.

My grandma’s sister, who had been through enough shit with al-Nakba and some stuff that had happened to her due to Israeli forces, ended up losing her eye.

Then you have my immediate family & immediate aunts and uncles - I don’t want to divulge THEIR personal details here, but suffice to say......things are pretty messy. My grandma lost two of her children, and three of my aunts and uncles lost 4 children between them. My aunt had her San Francisco store burned down in an arson attack and lost a child to drowning. I came into this post fully intended to discuss some of the personal details with my family/uncles that more recently reflected manifestations of ~the curse~, but I realize now that I don’t want to share that info publicly...sorry x_x.

To this day, the curse and this entire ordeal is pretty well-known throughout the village, and two clans have since made amends. There have also been multiple “attempts” to tackle the blood curse, but.....you know, HOW do you know when one has been lifted? Especially one cast out of such malice. And sure, you can just go and blame any negative occurrence on ~a curse~, but given that the body count is well over 20, given the extreme unlikelihood that so many houses in my family have been burned down, given that my uncle’s goddamn spirit is said to still haunt the building where he was assassinated.......you know??

At this point, any negative major event that happens, we joke about as being the result of the curse~ [and those that know me..............well.. (: ]. At this point I’m going to stop typing, because holy hell this is long.....and I should probably proofread it first, but I just want to post it before I lose everything.

#Blood Curse #Personal

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pamphletstoinspire · 6 years

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Understanding The Bible - A Practical Guide To Each Book In The Bible - Part 8

Written by: PETER KREEFT

EIGHT

________

National Happiness from Personal Holiness: First and Second Samuel

The historical books of the Bible were not designed, either by men or by God, merely to satisfy our natural curiosity about past events, but to guide our present lives and choices to ensure our future supernatural blessedness. To look for “lessons” in these books, therefore, is not an arbitrary imposition of an external, alien point of view. For God, unlike man, writes lessons not only in words but also in events. He is the primary Author of the book of history as well as of these historical books.

There are many memorable “lessons” in First and Second Samuel (How naive, unfashionable, and “moralistic” the very word “lesson” sounds to our modern ears! In that psychological fact itself there lies a lesson.) Among them, one of the most prominent and relevant to our own time is the dependence of a nation’s happiness on its leaders’ personal holiness.

First and Second Samuel contrast the personalities of good but weak Eli with good and strong Samuel, strong but selfish Saul with idealistic David, David as obedient with David as disobedient; and they show how these contrasts, these choices, will determine all of Israel’s subsequent history. The difference between a two-degree angle and a three-degree angle is perhaps only a fraction of an inch in the beginning, close to its origin. But when the lines are extended through space, as history is extended through time, the difference becomes a matter of many miles.

First Samuel traces Israel’s history from the birth of Samuel, last of the judges, to the death of Saul, Israel’s first king. Second Samuel traces the rule of David, Israel’s greatest king.

First Samuel: The Age of Kingship Emerges

Samuel, the last judge, anoints Saul, the first king. A new age emerges through this transition. “Anointing” was a quasi-sacramental, symbolic pouring of oil onto the head of the man God chose. It publicly signified and certified God’s choice. The title Christ or Messiah means “the anointed one” or “the chosen one”. The Jewish kings as God’s chosen ones and the Jews as God’s “chosen people” foreshadow and prepare for Christ, God’s Chosen Person.

Before the transition from Samuel to Saul, we see a transition from Eli, the old priest, to Samuel, the young prophet. At a time when “the word of the LorD was rare in those days; there was no frequent vision” (3:1), God called Samuel, dramatically but quietly, in the night. And Samuel gave the perfect, classic response to God’s call, just as Mary was to do a thousand years later with her fiat. Samuel said simply, “Speak, Lord, for thy servant hears” (3:9). Only because Samuel first listened to God, did Israel listen to Samuel: “When Samuel spoke, all Israel listened” (3:21, TEV). This is the key to all effective preaching, pastoring, and priestly work.

The people asked Samuel for a king, “like all the nations” (8:5). Like us modern Americans, they didn’t want to be different. This disappointed God (God is not an American), but God let them have their foolish way (8:6-9) to teach them—the hard way.

They chose Saul as their king, not for his wisdom or holiness but for his “image”, as we would put it today: “There was not a man among the people of Israel more handsome than he . . . he was taller than any of the people” (9:2).

The time of Saul, like most times, was full of corruption. Eli’s wicked sons, ruling at Shiloh, were so bad that God sent terrible judgment on the nation. Israel was defeated in battle by the Philistines (chap. 4). Eli’s sons were killed. And Eli died in grief and horror at hearing that the ark of the covenant, God’s visible throne in Israel and the holiest object in the world, was captured. It was almost as if a Satanist were to steal the Eucharist for a Black Mass. Eli’s daughter-in-law died in childbirth upon hearing the news, and named her son Ichabod, which means “the glory has departed”.

But Saul was not the answer to the departed glory. Though for a time he gave Israel military glory and victory, he proved to be an evil king (13:8-14; 15:10-23; 28:3-17). He was envious of David and sought to murder him, even though David was God’s anointed.

David was protected from Saul by his friend Jonathan, Saul’s son and heir. The friendship between David and Jonathan is a classic, model friendship. Jonathan gave up to David his legitimate claim to be king (20:30-31) because of his loyalty to David and because of his loyalty to God, for he knew God had chosen David to be king (chap. 18).

The crisis and culmination of Saul’s dissolution and self-destruction came when he played with the occult—something God had forbidden with frightening strictness (Ex 22:18; Deut 18:9-12). Once Saul conjured up the spirit of the dead prophet Samuel through the mediumship of the Witch of En-Dor (chap. 28), it was too late: Saul lost his kingdom, his life, and probably his soul. Samuel told him, “The LorD has turned from you and become your enemy” (28:16; compare Mt 7:23). Saul’s story is a story of crime and punishment, a moral tragedy.

Second Samuel: Israel’s Brief Golden Age

But David’s story is one of glory. David is Israel’s model king, the standard by which all subsequent kings are judged. David is one of the primary Old Testament types or symbols for Christ:

1. He is a king.

2. He is born in Bethlehem.

3. He is anointed (“Christ”).

4. He is “a man after God’s own heart” (1 Sam 13:14).

5. He experiences rejection and danger, and out of it composes some of the great messianic psalms, such as the one (Ps 22) Jesus quoted on the Cross.

6. He is the literal ancestor of Christ, who is frequently called “the son of David” and “descended from David according to the flesh” (Rom 1:3).

7. Like Christ, David forgives and spares his enemies. On two occasions, he spared Saul’s life when Saul was seeking his (chaps. 24-26).

King David is a type of Christ the King. It is difficult for us Americans to love kings, for our nation was born in a rebellion against a bad king. Yet Christ is a king as well as prophet and priest. The Church has not designed for us “the Feast of Christ the President”, but the Feast of Christ the King. Christ did not preach “the administration of God”, but “the Kingdom of God”.

God promised David through Nathan the prophet that the Messiah would be descended from him. This hope for an even greater king than David was kept alive in Israel during the dark times of decline, corruption, civil war, exile, and captivity that were to follow for many long generations after David. The New Testament refers to Nathan’s prophecy and Christ’s fulfillment of it three times (Acts 2:30; 2 Cor 6:18; and Heb 1:5). David is the connecting hinge between Abraham, who first received the promise, and Christ, who finally fulfilled it; he is halfway between Abraham (about 2000 B.C.) and Christ.

David wanted to build God’s house, the temple, but God decreed that it should be built instead by David’s son Solomon, a man of peace. David wanted to build a house for God, but instead God built a house for David. The “house of David” is a dynasty divinely guaranteed to produce not just a great temporal kingdom but an eternal one (see Lk 1:32-33). The prophecy was fulfilled: David’s dynastic line was preserved right down to the time of the Messiah, who was David’s great-great-great-etc.-grandson. In the northern kingdom of Israel, there were nine different family dynasties, but in Judah only one. Judah and Benjamin were the only tribes that remained until the time of Christ; the other ten were scattered and lost.

The characters of Eli, Samuel, Saul, Nathan, and David are vivid and memorable because they are realistic. Though David is Israel’s greatest king and a type of Christ, Second Samuel does not idealize him or gloss over his sins.

Second Samuel tells David’s story as both history and biography. For the fate of the nation and of David are intertwined. The spiritual law of cause and effect is not only individual but also social. David’s spiritual success brought about God’s blessing not only in his private life, but also in the life of the nation; and David’s spiritual failures necessarily brought down God’s judgment not only on him and his family, but also on his nation.

David’s remarkable political “rags to riches” story (from shepherd boy to king) and his remarkable military success in quenching civil war and enforcing peace stemmed from his personal friendship with God and obedience to God’s will. Then came the turning point in his life: his adultery with Bathsheba and his arranging the murder of her husband Uriah. The book then chronicles the tragic consequences of these sins for his family and for the nation.

These consequences start to unravel when Bathsheba’s new baby by David dies shortly after birth. Later one of David’s sons, Amnon, commits incest with his half-sister Tamar. Then David’s beloved son Absalom, the full blood-brother of Tamar, murders his half-brother Amnon to avenge his sister, leads a military revolt against his father David, and is killed by David’s general Joab. One of the most poignantly agonizing passages in the Bible is David’s grief over Absalom: “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!” (18:33).

Nathan’s prophecy is fulfilled: God sends a sword into David’s house. Not only family disaster but also national disaster come: famine, war with Philistia, and, later, the renewed civil war under Solomon’s sons that would split Israel forever.

The brief “Golden Age” Israel enjoyed lasted only one or two generations: part of David’s rule and part of Solomon’s. The rest is troubled times. Saul began in glory but ended in ruin. So did Solomon. Only David remained God’s man, through repentance. David did not attain the best thing, personal purity and perfection, but he attained the next best thing, repentance. This was crucial for the nation. David’s repentance held Israel together and staved off God’s judgment for another generation.

One of the most arresting passages in Scripture is the scene of this repentance. Nathan the prophet confronts David with his crimes by his parable of the rich man who stole the poor man’s single sheep. David is impaled by its stunning punch line: “You are the man.” After reading 2 Samuel 12:1-15, read Psalm 51, the great prayer of repentance that David wrote after this sudden self-knowledge. It is a favorite of many of the saints, for all saints know themselves to be sinners, and this is the great sinner’s Psalm.

Here are four short and simple lessons for our time and our nation from First and Second Samuel.

1. Most times are times of trouble. Prosperity and peace are the exception, not the rule.

2. Personal sins produce national tragedies. Just as the sins of the fathers have consequences in the lives of their children (Ex 20:5-6), the sins of the rulers have consequences in the life of the nation. This law does not change when kings change to presidents.

3. There exists an unavoidable law of spiritual cause and effect, as universal and as objective as the law of gravity: the only road to blessing is obedience, and the road to judgment is disobedience to God’s laws.

4. But it’s never too late. David’s repentance restored him to God’s favor, and although the sword remained in his house as a purgatorial punishment, David remained God’s man. He weakened his relationship with God by sin, but did not destroy it, and restored it by repentance. If even a murderer and adulterer could be a great king and a great man of God, what can you be?

#understanding the bible

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carlerinle · 4 years

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The Sheep Or Pig Parable

Thursday 24th September 2020

Rom. 7:15 – “For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I.”

We can learn lessons about our spirituality from virtually anything in existence. Today, we want to look at the lessons we can learn from the sheep and the pig, particularly in relation to how they react to dirt. Imagine a sheep and a pig walking down the road. Unknown to them both, there’s a huge pothole right ahead of them, and without much announcement, they both fall right into the middle of it. They are immediately covered from head to toe with dirty, smelly, mucky water. There are two very distinct reactions we will observe from the sheep and the pig. The sheep will almost immediately jump out of the dirty pothole because it hates to be stained, and will do as much as it can to get the stench and dirt out of its fur. The pig, however, has the total opposite reaction. It digs down in the dirt and tries to get the dirt all over its body. The pig sees nothing wrong with the dirt and even loves being dirty. Remove that pig from the dirt, clean it up and it will jump right back in the first chance it gets. Now, both the sheep and the pig are animals, but they have different natures in them that makes them have different responses to the dirty pond.

As believers on earth, we remain imperfect in body and soul, and sin is the natural order of the world that we live in. Both believers and unbelievers will inevitably encounter sin, but like the sheep and the pig, the believer will have a different reaction to sin than the unbeliever. The believer is the sheep who fell into the pond of dirty water, typifying when believers fall into sin. The believer is never comfortable in that environment, no matter how the sin came about. The nature of Christ in you will always want to be out of that situation and restored to cleanness in Christ. No true believer will ever find sin to be so comfortable as to enjoy it and keep living in it. It’s simply not in our nature, and it is a sure way to know whether you are saved or not if you are comfortable with sin, particularly habitual, unrepented sin. One way to check this is to answer the hypothetical – if you were told that pushing a button would instantly and forever take away your desire for that sin that you keep falling into, would you push that button?

In our focal text, Paul tells us that he struggled with his desires and actions, that the things he desired he found difficult to do, but the things he hated were very easy for him to do. We can’t gloss over one very important point here. Paul hated, absolutely hated the sin that he found himself committing. Any true believer will hate sin, genuinely hating the garment of righteousness spotted by the flesh (Jude:23). An unbeliever would never see the need to push that button because for him, sin is a nature and to not sin would run counter to his sinful nature. But you who have been saved have a different nature, one that actually prefers not to sin, but because of the flesh, find yourself falling into sin. This should both give you comfort that you have the nature of God, and concern that your flesh is ruling your spirit. You can make it a priority to ride on God’s grace to not let (that) sin have dominion over you.

There’s something in you that hates the fleshly desire to sin, and when you feed it by paying attention to your spirituality, you build up your strength to live out the true nature of God in you. This is how you begin to produce works of righteousness. It is okay for you to harbour hate in your heart towards sin, that’s the kind of hate that is good for your spiritual health (Pro. 8:13). Your love for God, combined with your hatred for sin will give you the edge over sin, and your life will be ruled by that holy life in you. Your hatred for sin is an indication that you are a sheep, and the God life is alive and strong in you.

Have a blessed day.

#Devotional DiligentBibleStudy GrowingInFaith TheDailyWord

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leonbloder · 4 years

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Listening for The Spirit

In the Gospel of John Jesus told his followers before he was crucified, buried and raised from the dead that even though he would be gone from them that:

When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father--the Spirit of truth who goes out from the Father--he will testify about me. - John 15:26

This Sunday at my church we'll be celebrating that moment on the Day of Pentecost when, as outlined in the New Testament book of Acts, the promised Holy Spirit descended upon the followers of Jesus and the Church was essentially born.

From time to time I will get asked a very important question about the Day of Pentecost that is not that easy to answer:

"So, if the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost, does that mean that the Spirit was not present before then?"

In other words, was the "Third Person" of the Trinity just dormant, hanging out, waiting, etc. until that moment to appear on the scene for the first time? Or are we missing something?

I've heard lots of different explanations to this, and not many of them are that helpful. You see, when you try to harmonize confusing aspects of Scripture with one another in hopes of keeping things coherent, nice and neat... you are going to have some holes.

I guess the way that I would answer that question would be "Yes, and no." Based on what we see throughout the entirety of the Bible, the Spirit has always been present.

I think the best way that we can imagine the Spirit of God is as the energy that exists between all things---a conduit, if you will, that creates connections between the Divine and Creation. Within that capacity, the Spirit, as the New Testament writers believed, serves as Connector, Helper, and Paraclete, a Greek word which means "Counselor."

To think that the work of the Spirit in that regard was not present in the world before Acts 2 is just not good theology. But the way the Spirit was revealed in began to work within people on that Day of Pentecost... now that was different.

Henri Nouwen describes what happened to the early followers of Jesus like this:

When the Spirit did come, everything changed because they saw and they understood. They realized that they had been a part of something special. Suddenly they could start living an interior life, a life in Christ. They might have traveled with Christ, but before the Spirit came they could not travel in Christ.

Suddenly they began to see and experience the Spirit at work not just in the world around them (which I believe they began to do more clearly than ever), but also within them and through them.

And this is such good news for you and me because that same Spirit continues to do that good work within and through us as well.

If we are willing to open our eyes... if we are willing to surrender to the work of the Spirit within us... we will constantly find new ways to see and experience the risen Christ in the world.

What happens when we become more aware of the Spirit all around us, in us and through us is that we can't shut it off. Once we see it, we can't unsee it. And then we find those connections everywhere in Creation.

The poet Rumi captures this for me in this snippet of one his poems from long ago:

What was said to the rose that made it open

was said to me here in my chest.

So what is the Spirit saying to you in your chest today?

Perhaps it's a still small voice urging you to wake up and to finally see all of the miracles you have witnessed that you may have glossed over, or disregarded. Or maybe it's the realization that everything around you is humming with reverence, reverberating with glory and wonder.

Whatever it is that the Spirit is saying... listen to it, and be changed by it. Know that you are filled with that same Spirit, and let this knowledge give you more joy than you have ever felt.

And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you now and always. Amen.

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nickireadstfc · 7 years

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The Raven King, Chapter 13 – The Birth of Responsible Neil Josten

In which our favourite angsty runaway finally starts being useful, Andreil engage in some hot ab-touching, Wymack Knows™ things and I sense yet more Hufflepuffs dawning on the horizon.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Raven King.

The enw chapter starts and already we have to witness shit that I am decidedly not liking:

Nicky being super fucking miserable.

“We shouldn’t have come here,” Nicky said, sounding as wretched as he looked. (…) “What have I done?”

NOOOOOOOOO MY SUNSHINE SON

On the long, long list of why I fucking hate Drake’s guts, “He made Nicky sad” is one point I am especially angry about having to add.

You know, apart from all the obvious fuckery.

Thankfully, I can trust my man Josten to stop Nicky from sinking down further into the Guilt Depression Pit:

“You didn’t do anything,” Neil said. (…) “You didn’t know this was going to happen. None of us did. If we’d known, we wouldn’t have come.”

That’s what I was bloody saying. Thank you, Sir Runaway Angst Lord, for finally agreeing with me on something.

Also where’s this sudden rush of being the voice of reason coming from?

“It doesn’t make sense that Drake would come here. Higgins was here a month ago. Why wait so long, and why risk it? The police can track a cross-country plane ticket easily.”

That’s……. actually a very good point I had not considered before.

Why was Drake there? To “””make amends””” with his “””little brother””” (my toenails are rolling just typing that word), sure – but why now?

There’s more to this. WHAT IS IT.

No time to deal with this now – for now, we are dealing with Andrew getting sent on a nice lil vacation to Fun Anti-Mania Rehab.

Kevin fixed Betsy with a stunned look. “It’s too early. What do you think you’re doing?”

“The right thing,” Betsy said.

HELL YEAH SHE IS.

Bless Betsy Dobson for turning cliché action movie lines into lines that make me actually emotional.

“Who will take care of Kevin if I’m gone? I can’t trust him wandering around here by himself, and Coach can’t be with him all the time. Kevin’s kind of a full-time job.” (…)

“I’ll watch him,” Neil said.

BITCH WHAT.

“What do you think you are saying? What are you trying to do?”

“Take responsibility,” Neil said in German.

BITCH WHAT.

“VERANTWORTUNG ÜBERNEHMEN”, DIGGAH WAS.

I did not know you vocabulary even included that word.

Our boy??? Is finally starting to be responsible, adult and useful??? WHAT IS THIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT I AM WITNESSING.

“If I was going to leave I would have done so at the banquet when Riko called me by my name,” Neil said. “I won’t lie and say I didn’t think about it, but I decided to stay. I trusted you more than I was scared of him. So trust me now if you can. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll take care of Kevin until you return.”

Cause of death: This.

Responsible Neil, where did you suddenly come from?? And most importantly, how can we make sure you don’t transform back into Angsty and Dramatic Neil??

“You lie, and lie, and lie, and you think I’ll trust you with his life?”

“Then don’t tust ‘Neil’”, Neil said. “Trust me.”

“Oh, but who are you? Do you have a name?”

“If you need one, call me Abram.”

Oh my goooood.

Neil giving out his birth name (or parts of it) to Andrew just adds a whole ‘nother level of intimacy, rawness and seriousness to this exchange.

It also adds another level of I can’t fucking deal with this.

With so many people watching them Neil couldn’t life his shirt. He did the next best thing and dragged one of Andrew’s hands under the hem. He pressed Andrew’s palm to the ugly scarring across his abdomen.

Touching!!!!!!!!! On his scars!!!!! Which no one has ever even seen!!!!! And Andrew gets to motherfucking touch them!!!! TOUCHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Andreil heart is having a fucking rave, you guys.

“Do you understand?” Neil asked. “Nothing Riko does will make me leave him. We will both be here when you get back.”

IM FUCKNG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Remember when I had huge Kevandreil feels way back in the beginning/middle of the first book? Remember that?? REMEMBER????

I’m still not set on whether I ship it romantically, sexually or just hardcore-platonically (although I’m leaning to the latter), but just – THE DYNAMICS, YOU GUYS.

You can always sign me the fuck up for a good triumvirate.

And of course, not even Andrew can say no to an offer when it comes in the form of some good ab-touching, and just like that, he leaves for rehab.

Godspeed, my manic murder kitten – please come back happier, healthier, yet hopefully just as full of sass. <3

There’s a little thing at the end of this exchange, though, that is quickly glossed over but that caught my attention, and that is Wymack being a perceptive bastard:

“Hopefully hearing about all of this (…) will get [Aaron] moving, but who knows when it comes to those two? Speaking of unpredictable assholes, when did that happen?”

“When did what?” Neil asked.

Wymack eyes him. “Forget it.”

Is he……….. already hinting at Neil and Andrew having A Thing………….. Wymack Knows™.

Did I mention I love that guy recently? #dicksoutforperceptivebastards

“What about the season?” Kevin asked. “What about Riko?”

“What about Andrew? Attempt to think about someone and something else for just a moment there.”

DID I MENTION I LOVE THAT GUY RECENTLY. #dicksoutforcaringaboutandrew

“Look,” Wymack said. “I know I’ve always told you all to take your personal problems up with Betsy or Abby. I’ve said it’s not my place to get into anything outside the court. I hope you’ve figured out by now that I’m just blowing hot air.”

Grumpy Fox Dad ily <33

Guess who’s back now – Aaron, fresh outta custody.

Guess who’s really emo and angry about the Andrew Situation – Aaron, back to being bitter and broody as per usual.

Guess who’s finally done taking his shit and starts dishing out some reason and sensibility in this mess – RESPONSIBLE NEIL FUCKING JOSTEN.

“Are you at all sorry?” Neil asked. “You took his family away from him. (…) Do you think Cass will ever forgive Andrew?”

Fair point – I’m all for Drake being Not A Thing anymore, of course (although imo prison would have done the job better than, you know, murder), but there is no denying that Aaron made sure the only woman that ever came close to a mum for Andrew now hates him till forever, probably.

“I don’t care about Cass or Drake or anyone. What Drake did – no. If I could bring him back from the dead and kill him again I would.”

“Good,” Neil said quietly. “So now you understand why Andrew killed your mother.”

HOLY SHIT.

Holy shit he’s fucking RIGHT oh my god. I did not see this coming at all (and neither did Aaron) and I am SHITTING MYSELF.

“You don’t know anything,” Aaron said.

“I know you’ve got a couple weeks to think about it,” Neil said. “When Andrew comes back sober you’ll have to talk about this. You won’t get anywhere if you start with Drake, so you might as well start with your mother.”

Neil, I am just honestly so, so impressed with you right now.

Just – this. This exchange right there so, so fucking important. I can already see that this will help the twins greatly in finally becoming real siblings, and Neil was the one who made that happen.

It’s been said time and time again how Neil will be the one bringing the Foxes together, and every time I see it actually happening now I leap out of my skin in happiness.

And the key to all of that happening is the birth of Responsible Neil we are witnessing right now.

I want you guys to really, really get how amazing I find this new development. One thing that, in hindsight, really annoyed me about Neil in the first book was how fucking Dramatic, Angsty and Extra™ he was – and I know this made for some good jokes, but it honestly also annoyed me a lot. He was just so whiny. And I know it’s for good reason, but still – I just kept hoping he would one day pull his head out of his ass.

Breaking news: Our boy Neil’s head has now left his ass.

This scene, all these scenes are so amazing because: TFC-Neil wouldn’t have done this. TFC-Neil would have stood there uncomfortably, saying nothing and staring, dramatically contemplating his own angst and his own trauma and why he should run away now and how oh so fucking tragic his own life is.

TRK-Neil does not. TRK-Neil deals with problems other than his own, starts taking responsibility and gets out of his own fucking head for once.

TLDR: FUCK. YEAH.

The monsters (minus one) and the Fox Parents get back to Palmetto, where they’re all reunited with the rest of the team – which is not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be, since apparently the story is all over the news and no dramatic retellings are in order.

Also, apparently Matt’s mom bailed Aaron out of jail, as a ‘thank you’ for him helping Matt get clean. Neat!

“We’re all Foxes. We are a team. What happens to one of us happens to all of us, and we’re going to get each other through this.” (…)

If it wasn’t so terrible, it’d be brilliant. This was what Dan and Matt had been waiting for all semester: a catalyst to finally unite the team.

Have I mentioned how much I’m feels-nutting every time the Foxy Team Spirit gains some bonus points? Have I?? HAVE I????????

However, it’s not all fun and games (not that it ever was fun and games), as there is Serious Exy Trouble resulting from Andrew being gone:

“If the ERC decides Andrew isn’t part of our line-up anymore, we’re beneath size regulations. They’ll strike us from the roster and our year is over. (…) Kevin is afraid.”

Dun dun dun duuuuuuuun. That’s a pretty shit situation you got there, mate.

Neil fixed Kevin with a stony look. “Maybe if you’d stuck around a moment longer you’d understand why I don’t care anymore. When you came upstairs, did you hear mim laughing, Kevin? (…) So yes, even I would give up on this season. And after everything he’s done and every risk he’s taken for you, you’d better feel the same.”

MIKE FUCKING DROP.

With Neil gone, Kevin currently takes the top spot on the List of People Who Need To get Their Heads Out Of Their Own Angsty Ass.

“Rhemann has taken our side. He offered to speak on our behalf if need be, and he’s helped reach out to the others.”

James Rhemann, apparently, is the coach for the USC Trojans – a team that is so fair and kind they never, ever got a single red card in their entire existence.

I am DELIGHTED. When do we meet those USC cinnamon puffs, give them to me NOW.

“As of this morning, the vote across the Class I teams is almost unanimous,” Wymack said. “They want us to finish the season.”

HELL FUCKIN YEAH.

“I want one lap for every time you’ve ever said the NCAA’s never had your back.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Nicky said. “We’ll be running all day.”

BAHAHAHAHA. I actually had to laugh so hard at that. Possibly because it’s the first time there is a reason for laughter in, like, three chapters.

But also possibly because it’s just unexpectedly really funny.

In summary: The Foxes get to play on, Andrew finally gets the help he needs and deserves, and Neil’s head gets a serious applause from me for being finally free of his ass.

If you like what I do here and you want to help me continue writing, please consider buying me a coffee! Thank you so much <3

One last note: New update will be out on Monday instead of Sunday because I’m gone all weekend – I’ll be at a cheerleading event with my friends! I can already hear myself going “That’s Katelyn” at every single cheerleader wearing orange. Wheee!

#nicki reads tfc #trk #tfc #aftg #the raven king #the foxhole court #all for the game #nora sakavic #dicksoutforwymack #dicksoutforperceptivebastards #dicksoutforcaringaboutandrew #honestly the last one is all that matters to me

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