#funny how they eventually get the God of War as their son. mentally they are still There sometimes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jodiie-leighanne · 2 years ago

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Warnings. Mostly fluff.

Originally posted on June 5th.

Special 42nd birthday shot.

“Happy Birthday Dad” Scorpius called as he stepped into the Manor, arms spread out just as his smile.

Y/N watched as her husband rose from the dinning table to embrace their son. How in the world is this man in his early forties?

He brings growing old to shame, hair still soft with bright untones, hues like the lagoon in Iceland; blue hazed in grey fog floating above. Skin porcelain, delicate lines now scattering subtly. Don’t even get me started on the fact this man’s definition of a middle aged dad bod, is dropping from eight defined abs to only six. God forbid.

They met twenty five years ago, Y/N was a neighbour to the Malfoys for years. Home schooled muggle, luckily for her and her family they went undetected by the pure blood supremacists.

The Y/L/N were a humble family, not disgustingly wealthy but never struggled. Successful in their own rights, living low melding with the shadows that was until Y/N and Draco’s World collided. There’s a stream at the far end of their separate acres which joins them, Draco had just learnt his fate was sealed, Y/N just wanted to escape the pressures of forever proving her abilities to a kind that would never accept her.

Midnight, not really a time to be descaling a building in looks for peace, means of escape yet two young teens were both separately doing the same action unbeknownst to the other.

Y/N headed to the stream under the oak. Book , blanket and a flask of something warm and strong in hand. Being vulnerable to the stars had become a regular activity when the world went silent. Tranquillity.

Draco was blurry eyed, pained and broken. Stumbling in a daze of self destruction mentally cursing himself for finding no resolution in the binds he was unwillingly bound to.

Y/N spread her blanket out pleased the air was still warm, she bundled up her clothing just in case she had been wrong. Bending down to get comfortable, abrupt rustling roused her.

Draco had no plan, he needed peace. To his surprise his usual escape was occupied.

“What are you doing here? This is private property” He hissed, surprising the petite doe eyed girl who just straightened her back to face him defiance twinkling.

“I could ask you the same thing” Folded arms across her chest, she wouldn’t back down.

Draco scoffed edging closer to her “This..” He spread his limbs out to show the area “is Malfoy property”

“Funny because this” She mirrored the gesture “is Y/L/N property”

Back and fourth bickering began, mostly juvenile until they agreed to disagree sharing the secluded space.

The rest is history.

Draco and Y/N met nightly, venting and Giggling. Crying and joking, separately they were alone together not so much.

Two people who should be enemies, found friendship which blossomed to love.

After the war ended, Draco went to her first to hold his home in human form.

“She is a filthy..”

“Don’t you dare fucking finish that sentence father..” Enraged at the words spitting from his fathers tongue. Draco had seen the error of his judgements, seeking redemption. Lucius however was too cemented in his ways.

“You will not sully the Malfoy name with that fifty.. “ The young heirs fist collided with the jaw of his elder defending the woman he was betrothed to.

“Yes, yes I will. That girl you speak of loves me, and I happen to be besotted with her. With or without your damned permission I’m marrying her”

And he did. They married three years after their first meeting.

Back to the present, that flame is still very much ignited. Lustful kisses, discreet touches constantly.

Y/N prepared a full celebration feast, arrangers of meets, various trimmings it was mouth watering.

Her husbands close friends and parents had joined together for the moment.

Narcissa had always been accepting of Y/N from the get go, she wanted her baby boy happy. He was beyond that, Lucius eventually came around he realised his son was set in his decision.

Scorpius was conceived not long after marriage the only child they bore. Fertility had been tough, the couple counted their blessings not wanting to tempt fate, in exchange for heart ache.

Clattering of cutlery, laughter and idle chat filled the room. Picture perfect moment.

Scorpius stood from his seat, wine glass in one hand, fork in the other tapping the crystal gently to not earn scolding from his parents.

“Attention please..” everyone turned to the now strapping young adult “Firstly, I would like to wish my father a happy birthday. Thank you for being well just yourself, you deserve all the spoils you receive today” Draco’s grin was wide as he squeezed his wife’s hand under the table.

“Secondly, another thanks for the strong Malfoy genetics you gave me, meaning I will forever look twenty..” Chuckles filled the air, as Y/N shot her cheeky son a look. “Stop it mum your beauty is timeless”

“He isn’t wrong amour” Draco whispered into her hair causing blush to rise on her cheeks.

Y/N in the eyes of her loves was equally as alluring if not more so she oozed grace and charm. She aged like fine wine, with age she just tasted better to him.

Crude yet true.

“Thirdly..” He adjusted the collar of his shirt, shifting awkwardly as Lana Omarne, Scorps long term partner stood beside him. Placing a tentative hand upon tense shoulders. “Mum, dad you-you are going to be grandparents..”

Silence struck as the sentence sunk in. Y/N jumped to her feet along with Cissy. Squealing for joy over another addition to the family.

Draco however sat mouth agape.

“I'm sorry Excuse me?” He gasped, chugging the wine down.

“Me and Lana .. we are having a baby dad” his eyes flitted to the small bump cradled under the palm of his only child.

“Oh this is wonderful news, congratulations my beautiful boy” Y/N engulfed the couple in a tight hold. Followed by everyone else, good wishes spilling from all.

“Isn't that great love” His wife beamed as kissed all over her boys face, making her way back towards her first love. Arms slung around his shoulders, chest to back. He leant into the touch.

“Yes, wonderful” Following suit to congratulate the new parents.

Evening rolled in as the guest widdled, spirits high the whole time. Y/N had finished cleaning the kitchen, ready to join her man up stairs who had excused himself an hour or so ago.

Climbing the stairs to their bed chambers, she heard streams of water. Indicating Draco was in the shower. Smirking, she decided to give him one more present.

Her dress once unzipped crumbled to the floor, pooling at her feet. Undergarments discarded, she edged to the en suite. Steam rolled out the door, a bare silhouette outlined in the cube freestanding in the room, black decor dousing the tiles. Swinging open the door, wrapped immediately in warmth. There he stood, back to her under the heavy flow. Palms braced on the wall, creeping up behind she wrapped his waist.

“What's wrong love?” She whispered into his spine, feeling muscles relax.

“We-grandparents y/n our baby boy is having a child” He sighed slumping slightly. “Fuck I'm old”

“Old ? You, no darling” Placing pecks down his toned shoulders, he exhaled a gentle breath.

Turning to face her. Worrisome look etched on his pale damp skin, jaw defined and clenched.

Arousal sleek in between her thighs. No matter how many years went by that man could turn her on in an instant.

“I'm 42 with a grandchild on the way. Oh god –“ Draco’s head slumped into the crevices of Y/Ns neck. Making her giggle at him.

Re-entering the bedroom after washing each others bodies, loving kisses shared.

Y/N saw her husband was still a bit on edge. She chose to soothe his treating the only way they did it best.

Sexually.

Draco stood by the king-size drying himself, Y/N smiled at him. Catching his attention when he towel dropped, leaving her once again exposed to him. Brow arched at his gorgeous partner strutting with confidence towards his stiffening length, lust fuelled veins.

“Lay down baby .. let me show you that we aren't old at all” In one swoop he was laid flat on the mattress, she hovered over him, pupils dark with desire.

“What are you?”

“Shh baby lay still” Being the good boy he is, he obeyed. Y/N, worshipped, praised and fucked the shit out of her love. Over and over again.

Filled deep with his seed, marked by his touch and more in love with each thrust.

Seeing her dripping thighs tainted with his cum, breasts bruised from nibbles and face brain dead from his actions made his glow in adoration.

No-one gave it like him. No-one took it like her.

Scents of sex, sounds of heavy breaths filled the darkness.

“Still feeling old as shit?” Y/N huffed out, still recovering.

“Yes - My backs killing me” Laughter echoed, as she lay on her side nestle into him, legs entwined

“I love you so much” She cooed passionately kissing his lips, Draco turned to his side bodies flushed together.

“Yeah? Well I love you so much more Mr. Malfoy” Smashing into one another again sheets tossing. “Happy birthday Baby” Grunting into her mouth he pushed harder Draco, grinding against Y/N bare pussy “Draco are you?” She mumbled on his mouth, eyes wide.

“Always hard for you sweet baby, Clearly one part of me will forever be a teenager”

☆

Nine months later baby Calisto Malfoy was born? Official making Draco and Y/N grandparents. Overwhelmed and overjoyed they spoilt every hair on her petite head. Shocking the world when a month later her uncle Zacarius Malfoy was born.

Draco didn’t feel so old anymore.

#draco malfoy x reader #hot daddy #dad draco #married #scorpius malfoy

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drpierceandmrhyde · 4 years ago

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okay here’s me blathering about “Hawk’s Nightmare” for ~1350 words

I’m going to talk about Frank and Margaret’s conversation in post-op first because it doesn’t fit with the other themes of the episode that I want to talk about, but I still like that scene, so I want to talk about it anyway.

Margaret’s “I happen to be an engaged person” is very Gender, but I also like her “I’m a one-man woman” because … well, she is. Sure, she had a long affair with a married man, but that affair could have been born from mutual loneliness as much as from attraction, and as far as I remember she is never in a relationship with both Frank and Donald. When it’s clear that Frank is never going to divorce his wife, Margaret calls their affair quits. And she commits to her relationships, even if the men with whom she is involved don’t share her commitment. She sticks with Frank through countless empty promises, and Donald leaves her, not the other way around. (Also, I hate to say it, but “I know God exists because you exist” is quite a romantic line.)

Now for the on-topic stuff.

From the opening scene we see the impetus for the themes of Hawkeye’s sleepwalking and dreams. The episode opens with Hawkeye lamenting on the age of his patient. This isn’t the first time this has happened; he and Trapper had the whole “I’d swear this kid is really a kid” scene in “Sometimes You Hear the Bullet.” But Hawkeye seems especially worked up about this patient’s age, even countering Frank’s claim that their patients are proud soldiers by saying that they’re babies. So it makes sense that this fixation on the youth of these soldiers would lead to dreams about people from Hawkeye’s own childhood.

The youth of Hawkeye’s patient is further cemented in a later scene when Hawkeye is visiting with him in post-op. The patient hadn’t even heard of Korea before the war started. And when Hawkeye says that he’s from Crabapple Cove, the patient says that it sounds like a place where Winnie the Pooh hangs out. There’s something unnerving about a soldier talking about something as childish as Winnie the Pooh. It reminds you that he’s just a kid whose government forced him into this war.

The episode is full of little moments that show the care that the 4077th has for Hawkeye. When BJ sees him asleep in bed without a blanket, he puts a blanket over him. When Klinger and Radar catch him sleepwalking for the second night in a row, they very calmly and gently get him back to bed without waking him up. When Hawkeye wakes up Radar in the middle of the night because he’s desperate to check on a friend back home, Radar places the call without hesitation, and Colonel Potter asks Radar to call Sidney but does so discreetly because he doesn’t want Hawkeye to know. Even Frank kind of tries to offer comfort depending on how you look at it. I know Hawkeye doesn’t take comfort from Frank saying that there’s nothing in the dark that isn’t there in the light, but in the right circumstances I could see how that sentiment could be comforting to someone. (And I have a weakness for Potter saying “Anything I can do, son?” while putting his hand on Hawkeye’s back and then encouraging Hawkeye to lie down for a while.)

The episode has some good demonstrations of Hawkeye feeling like he has to be funny, whether the staff has imposed that expectation or whether he’s imposed it on himself. You have “Come on, don’t pull my leg. The shape I’m in, it’ll come off,” and he says “Frankly, I think I’m pregnant” when he’s talking to Margaret and BJ about his first nightmare. It could be humor as a coping mechanism or to keep up with his jokester expectations or perhaps both.

But I also think it’s interesting that when BJ says there’s no need to make such a big deal out of a little sleepwalking and one nightmare, Hawkeye agrees with him and says that he wouldn’t if it were happening to anyone else. But wouldn’t he? At this point Hawkeye has a history of treating traumatized patients with compassion and taking their trauma seriously, even if he doesn’t always understand the trauma. “Mad Dogs and Servicemen” is perhaps a bit of an exception, but that was mostly because he was trying to follow Sidney’s advice when Sidney couldn’t show up to talk to the patient himself, and behind that firmness I think he still cared about the patient, and he thought that the patient probably didn’t like him because of his treatment.

We get a taste of Hawkeye viewing his home and his childhood through rose-tinted glasses. He says that Toby Wilder was his best friend as a kid, but when he calls Toby to check on him after his nightmare, Toby only cares about the money that Hawkeye supposedly owes him. And then a few seasons later, Hawkeye talks about his love for his cousin Billy, who almost drowned him.

I love the way that the writing describes trauma without using medical or psychiatric terminology. When talking about his fear of going to sleep, Hawkeye says “It’s one thing to live in a shooting gallery, but now I’m being attacked from inside. […] How do I defend myself from myself?” And there’s the conversation between Potter and Radar after Potter has called Sidney, when Radar talks about the fight against the war. When Potter says that the jokes aren’t working anymore and Radar says that the other side is winning, it reminds me of Alan Alda saying that Hawkeye doesn’t fundamentally change but rather that his coping mechanisms stop working. And Hawkeye openly says that he’s scared. I always love when characters express their fear outright.

I love that Hawkeye and Sidney’s scene is framed as a conversation rather than a formal psychiatric appointment. Their friendship and mutual respect has been well established by this point, but this is the first extended scene of Hawkeye being a patient and Sidney being his therapist (we got a little of that in “O.R.” but not to this extent). Hawkeye is relieved that Potter called Sidney, and he quickly talks very candidly about his fear of falling asleep, and Sidney invites Hawkeye to share his own insight into his mental state without trying to twist Hawkeye’s words. “So you’ve been walking in your sleep. What do you think it means?” And as a bonus we get a taste of Sidney’s sense of humor with his “losing your marbles” joke.

I haven’t seen “Goodbye, Farewell and Amen” yet and won’t until the 28th, but from what I know about Hawkeye’s arc in that episode, there is some foreshadowing/reversal in this episode. In this episode Hawkeye is worried that he’s going crazy and eventually asks Sidney point blank if he is crazy, but in GFA (from my understanding) Hawkeye doesn’t think he needs help. In this episode Hawkeye tells Sidney that he’s very reassuring and that he has a great warside manner, but in GFA he calls Sidney a son of a bitch. I’ll definitely revisit this episode once I’ve seen GFA.

I also love and appreciate that Hawkeye’s sleepwalking and nightmares come from the trauma of the war without Hawkeye dreaming about the war itself. It’s a refreshing twist on war-related PTSD tropes. He dreams about childhood friends, and in the dreams they’re still children, and the dreams all end with the kids dying violently, and Sidney compares those dreams to the children that Hawkeye has had to operate on. And Sidney saying “But there’s a lot of suffering going on here, Hawkeye, and you can’t avoid it. You can’t even dream it away” is yet another indication of Hawkeye being fully, painfully aware of the war and another indication that Hawkeye is drowning in the war and cannot escape the totality of it.

So overall it’s a great episode that presents it subject matter authentically and in ways that ring true to the characters’ personalities.

#anyways. fucking love this episode #*#M*A*S*H

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anigodd · 4 years ago

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The Deal

Here it is, the crossover I said I would do like 3 weeks ago. Sorry about that. anyway, first and foremost, I’m a Captainsparklez stan, so he is the main character. Also, if you don’t know anything about Mianite, this aint for you, sorry.

Let’s get started! It’s super long, but enjoy!

Summary:

Jordan would not consider himself a cruel man, but when he saw that children, especially Tubbo, were being forced to fight in a war? Well, if he made a seemingly harmless deal with JSchlatt in order to...persuade him to end the war, then that was his own decision to justify. After all, what was a war without a little bit of psychological torture?

Most of the time, people forget that Jordan, better known as Captainsparklez or just The Captain, was old. I don’t mean in his 40s or 50s, I mean thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of years old. He’s fought for balance for as long as his lady had accepted him as her Champion millennia ago. Most don’t know simply because they don’t ask.

Most of the time, people forget that he is not entirely human. He’s immortal—it come with the job description—and has spent so much time in the End that it was bound to affect him eventually. His Lady, ever the one to always worry about him, changed him ever so slightly so that he was not susceptible to most human weaknesses: he didn’t need to sleep as much, better stamina, strength, etc. He complained that she did not have to do that, to save her power for something more important than him, but she stared him straight in his eyes and said with such conviction and with such sadness in her eyes that he was stunned,

“You are the most important thing to me, Jordan. Please, never forget that.”

He never did.

Most of the time, people forget that Jordan was dangerous. You don’t remain the Champion of the Goddess of Balance without having a few perks, nor do you simply kill a god and not absorb some of their power. In his dreams, he could see snippets of the future, not like his Lady, but just enough to influence his actions in wars or in everyday life to help maintain balance. Jordan could feel a deep ache in his soul when balance was disrupted. He can travel to and fro from the end without the need for a portal—he teleported like an enderman (he wouldn’t stop scaring Tom with this new-found power for days). He knew how to use a bit of magic, some was taught to him by the Ianite in Ruxomar. Just simple spells, such as small barriers or being able to communicate with endermen. He really had to hone his magic at some point. What was most interesting was his control over some of the Darkness’ domain. He never figured that he gained a little bit of something from killing World Historian all those years ago, he just thought he was mentally prepared for the next years to come.

Turns out he was wrong again.

The Darkness, before their final battle, had brought this to his attention. The deity would always poke into his head and whisper to him, but Jordan would push him out of his head when it got too much for him. After a few times, the Darkness said that Jordan had more power over his mind than he thought. The deity’s voice sounded intrigued by this development and soon worked harder to get Jordan on his side to no avail. However, what the Darkness said lingered in the back of his mind until one day, after the war, his Lady brought it up.

They were quietly sitting in her temple in the End when she spoke.

“Captain, I don’t want to pry, but I know that you’ve been thinking about what the Darkness told you and, if you wanted, I could help you control it?” She hesitantly offered. Jordan froze.

The Darkness told him a lot of things. He promised him weapons of infinite power, nights of peaceful rest, a break from the voices in his mind—a break from fighting. He promised him a peaceful life if he joined him. The Captain composed himself but stopped.

‘Control what?’ he thought. Now he was confused. It must have shown on his face because a smile blossomed on Ianite’s face.

“I wanted to teach you how to control your mind. The Darkness noticed you were able to block him from your mind. That does not come from years of experience, Captain. It’s more of a gift...or perhaps a curse. This power is why, when I was being influenced, I was unable to communicate with you,” she explained.

“Unable to talk to me? Why? I never intentionally pushed you away,” Jordan questioned. He would never ignore his Lady, even if she wasn’t really herself.

She chuckled. “I know you wouldn’t, Jordan. Thank you for that. What I mean is that you subconsciously blocked out all influences if the Darkness, including me.”

She watched as his eyes widened, but he nodded slowly in understanding. He waited for her to continue before he asked his questions; she could feel his curiosity.

“I could either help you control and develop this power, or you could leave it as a sort of unconscious barrier for your mind. There are many aspects that come with this gift, not just protection for yourself. If you wish, we could start immediately?” Ianite inquired.

She hoped he accepted. The Captain was like a son to her and it would mean the world to Ianite if she could finally teach him something as a mother would teach her son to ride a bike. She wanted to see him grow into his power and watch with pride as he mastered magic. Yes, she hoped he would accept.

Ianite watched as he thought about it. He stared at her. She could see his burning curiosity and the look of hope on her face. The truth was, the Captain craved knowledge more than power. He wanted to know anything and everything that he could, and this was something he wanted to learn. It may come in handy in the future.

He nodded. “When do you want to start, M’lady?” he asked with a smile.

She grinned. “We can start immediately.”

Oh, she couldn’t wait to see what he would become. No matter what, she would be proud.

—————— Nobody knew the extent of Jordan’s power or what he was trained to do. Rumors spread of the great hero who learned how to harness old magic from the teachings of the Goddess herself. Others say he went mad with power and tormented her with visions of destruction. Some say he does not look human anymore. Some say he guards her temple in the End and is still loyal to her thousands of years later. Others say he got to live his life in peace after training.

Some of those rumors are true. After all, all myths come from a seed of truth. Nowadays, though, The Captain does live in relative peace. He gets to participate in tournaments, such as the newest one called Minecraft Championship, where he really just plays for fun. He never got to make friends or have fun for his years under the gods, but the Universe has calmed down and his Lady wanted to see him have fun and socialize.

Most of them recognized him or had heard of him. He was always so uncomfortable with attention or praise but thankfully—THANKFULLY—their starry-eyed looks stopped after a while. Unless, of course, he said something that they recognized as one of his catchphrases all hell broke loose but...well...it was pretty funny to watch them yell and laugh good-naturedly when he said something like that.

Some asked him a million questions about his life or his adventures, especially this...child? His name was Tubbo and, apparently, Jordan was his role-model. He was flattered and a bit flustered. Most people that came up to him were older than 16 and usually asked about his fighting tactics or the wars he fought in. But this kid asked about none of those. Tubbo was the nicest kid he had ever met and tried to give him the best answers that he could, even if the were a little vague at some points—he didn’t want to scar the boy.

Tubbo didn’t seem to care. He always stared at him with the most excited smile and genuinely interested expression that he nearly cries thinking about it. Only a few people look at him so kindly it hurts. Tubbo is always bursting with questions and the Captain is always happy to answer. It became a thing for Tubbo to follow him around, prompting Jordan to call him ‘duckling’ in his mind.

He has started to become a bit worried about Tubbo and his loud friend, Tommy, though. The two are usually so boisterous and loud that it was hard to miss them. Nowadays, when he sees them, the two teens are more subdued and they look....exhausted. He’s seen that look. He knows they are fighting a war they cannot win.

Jordan knows he has to put an end to the fighting. If not for Tubbo, then for his own peace of mind. He finds Jschlatt on his own private server and strikes a sort of a deal with the man.

His smile is ice and his eyes are as dark as the Void when they shake hands. Purple tendrils and sparks emerge from their handshake, giving Jordan access to Jschlatt’s every move. The magic let Schlatt know that there was no backing out of this deal.

Their souls were intertwined until the deal was done. —————— Nobody knew that Jordan was a deal maker. Not that he did it much in the first place—there wasn’t anything that he wanted from others and he hated exercising his power over others.

This time, however, was an exception.

He knew what Schlatt had done to Tubbo and the others on Dream’s SMP. He knew that they were hurting. He hated seeing families torn apart and children being forced to grow up and fight. They should’ve had a childhood. They shouldn’t have to be forced into a war, and for what? Power? Glory? Honor? No honorable soldier would endorse using children to fight. No honorable leader or nation would do so either.

He noticed the shadows on the walls growing and harmful magic beginning to swarm around him.

Jordan heaved a sigh. He had to calm down before he did anything he would regret. He looked back at Schlatt from where he was hidden in the shadows. The hybrid was sat at his desk in the White House, languidly drinking from a glass as if there was no war going on; as if he isn’t responsible for the suffering going on in his lands.

He gave Schlatt two weeks to fulfill his end of the deal before Jordan fulfilled his end, but it doesn’t seem like Schlatt was even slightly worried about their agreement.

The Captain watched as he filled out paperwork and discarded peace treaties or ideas for that may improve Manburg. The lack of care for his nation made Jordan’s blood boil.

How careless.

How cruel.

How sickening. —————

Most know that Jordan, at his core, is kind-hearted and humble. He would never attack without a reason, but even before then, he would try to negotiate. It’s why he has been the Champion of Balance for so long: it’s in his nature.

That being said, Jordan is not a cruel or sadistic man. But to him, this deal was important to him. It would bring peace and protection to those in Dream’s land. They have been fighting for too long and are beginning to lose themselves. It had to be stopped.

As another few days went by, and soon, with 5 days left for Schlatt to fulfill his end of the deal, Jordan knew he had to give a bit of an....incentive to Schlatt.

He smiled. While he hated using his powers over the mind, now looked like a good time for some practice. The Captain waited until Schlatt was asleep to enter his mind. Since their souls were intertwined because of the deal, his plan was much simpler. His eyes glowed a deep purple.

After all, what was a little bit of psychological torture on one person if it benefitted the masses?

The Captain left the man to sleep. He had a feeling he’s be hearing from Schlatt in the next few days. And maybe, if Schlatt heard clocks ticking a bit louder than normal and seemed to echo in his mind, well, that was for Jordan to know, wasn’t it? ————————

Schlatt woke up with a killer headache and an unsettling feeling. The hairs on the back if his neck stood up and his shoulders tensed. Was he being watched? He looked around his room with a steady gaze. The room was quiet save for the birds outside and his clock. Had it always been that loud?

No matter. He couldn’t see anyone but that didn’t mean he was safe. Maybe he should have Tubbo stay by his side for the day until his paranoia passed?

Something caught his eye. He could have sworn he saw the shadows grow in his room after that thought. He shrugged to himself. He definitely needed more sleep if he was starting to see shadow demons.

Ha.

He took a deep breath and began to get ready for the day. He had paperwork to do and meetings to plan. If Manburg were to be under his rule, there had to be a few new....rules put into place.

‘Yes,’ he smiled. ‘New regulations wouldn’t hurt anybody.’

He walked down the hallways of the White House quicker than he usually does. Why does he feel like someone was watching him? Was Pogtopia planning an attack? The thought made him snort.

‘Right, like they could plan a decent attack,’ he thought.

When he looked outside to where the seats in front of the podium were located, he didn’t see a nice grassy field with a peaceful waterfall. Instead, he saw ashes falling from the sky like snow, a red haze filling the air, and fires burning with. The birds chirping distorted into echoed screams of agony. The podium was blown to bits and Tubbo...oh god....—

He blinked and the scenery reverted to normal.

“Sir?” a small voice asked from behind him.

Schlatt jumped and tried to control his breathing. When did he begin to hyperventilate? Why was he shaking?

He stared into the concerned and slightly wary eyes of Tubbo. Jesus, the kid was quiet.

He let out a breath and put his hand on his chest.

“Christ, Tubbo, you’re gonna give this old man a heart attack one day,” he tried to joke.

Tubbo cracked a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you alright, Schlatt? You were staring out at the lawn like someone died.” Tubbo said.

Schlatt froze. He did see someone dead. But it wasn’t a memory, what was it?

He looked at Tubbo and put his hand on the kid’s shoulder. Geez, he was just a kid, wasn’t he.

“Whatever happens, Tubbo, just know that it’s not your fault,” is all he said before walking into his office and closing the door. Tubbo was so confused, but Schlatt has done weirder and so he let it go. He wanted to see Tommy.

The clock in Schlatt’s office echoed in his mind as he worked. ——————

The one thing that Jordan hated was being mistaken for a kind-hearted fool.

He watched as Schlatt worked for another 3 days while enduring the visions of what may become of Manburg.

He watched as Schlatt ignored the shadows on the walls and the ticking of his clock.

He watched as Schlatt jumped in his seat when the whispers of the End began to echo in his ears.

He watched as Schlatt could not sleep for the rest of the 5 days.

He watched as the man slowly broke down. The visions kept him awake, the clocks were too loud, the whispers were in a language he couldn’t understand and the feeling of being watched drove him to the brink of insanity.

The others began to notice his quickly deteriorating health.

Schlatt had dark bags under his eyes that nearly looked like bruises. He was constantly looking over his shoulder and nearly broke all of the clocks in the White House. While talking to someone, his eyes always darted to the corners of the rooms. Most worryingly, he would just stare at something that looked normal, say an open field, and nearly put himself into a panic attack. The residents may not like him but they hated seeing anyone reduced to shambles. They tried to help him but all they get is incoherent mumbles or snippets of what may be Schlatt’s imagination.

Whatever it was, it had to stop.

The first time Wilbur heard of Schlatt’s health, he laughed. He laughed so hard he cried and couldn’t breath for at least 5 minutes. Tommy and Tubbo joined in, though their laughter was much weaker. The times after hearing about it, though, something changed in Wilbur. He could see how it was scaring Tubbo and at the rare times Niki visited, she expressed her genuine concerns over Schlatt.

“We may not like him too much, Wilbur, but you haven’t seen him. The poor man looks like he’s gonna run himself to his grave. We’re all worried about him,” is what she said to him when he asked why they were so concerned about him.

Wilbur wanted to see how Schlatt was fairing. Techno didn’t seem to care too much but he seemed interested in what happened to Schlatt.

“I’ll go along only because I wanna see what he looks like when he walks,” was Techno’s justification to visiting the White House. Okay then, Techno.

Tommy was coming along as well. He was practically dying from curiosity, but he also wanted to see Tubbo. Wilbur didn’t question his logic either.

However, they didn’t have to sneak into Manburg like they had planned to. They received an invitation to an SMP meeting in the community center in 3 hours. Everyone on the server had to attend, including Dream. This surprised Wilbur as he held the letter in his hands. Why would Dream have to attend if Schlatt was calling this meeting?

“Kinda sus of him, not gonna lie,” Techno said from behind him.

Wilbur hummed and turned around.

“Do you think we should go?”

Techno looked at him, practically expressionless. Wilbur stared back--- he was used to waiting for an answer.

“Tommy will complain for days if we don’t go, so yeah, we’re going,” is what Techno said eventually.

Wilbur sighed and crumpled the letter. He looked back at Techno, who was starting to head to the entrance of their ravine.

“Can you wait for Tommy and I before you go off and commit war crimes?” He joked.

Techno stopped.

“BruuUhhhH.”

Wilbur just laughed and went to fetch the blond gremlin from his room.

He just hoped this meeting didn’t go to shit. ———————— Schlatt felt like shit. He didn’t know what was happening to him or why but he just wanted it to stop.

Every corner he turned there was some depiction of an explosion or a massacre in that area. Quiet rooms were too loud with the whispers and the clocks. He kept the lights on at all times.

What was breaking him down the most was the constant feeling of being watched. Even with multiple people in the room, it was like a predator was watching its prey from afar. Waiting to pounce. He was at his wits end, but finally, hours before he called the SMP meeting, he got answers.

He was trying to do paperwork but was really just staring at the same paragraph for an hour. His mind was muddled and he couldn’t form a coherent thought.

He was so tired but every time he closed his eyes, it was another scene of death and destruction. He hands shook so badly that he had to put his pen down and place his head in his hands.

“You seem to be struggling, Schlatt,” a voice said from behind him. That feeling of being watched increased tenfold, causing Schlatt to tense and look behind him.

The Captain was standing in the corner of the room. The shadows obscured most of his figure but he could see his eyes—what happened to his eyes?—and his unnerving smile.

Schlatt tired to summon some of his dignity.

“Captain! Long time, no see. How’ve you been?”

Jordan’s expression didn’t change, but the room darkened a bit. Schlatt noticed.

“Have you been doing that? It’s been driving me nuts!” he angrily exclaimed.

Jordan cocked his head to the side.

“Have you forgotten about our deal, Schlatt?” Is all he asked. Why was his voice suddenly deeper? It rumbled in his ears and was vaguely threatening. His heart rate picked up and he had a feeling that Jordan was not just some guy he made a deal with.

He steeled his nerves. There is no way that Jordan is anything but human. He looked towards the Captain who was impossibly still with his creepy smile.

“No, I didn’t forget about it. I just....had better things to do,” was his defense. That apparently was the wrong answer.

Jordan was suddenly right in front of him, smile gone and eyes staring straight into him. Schlatt’s instincts immediately screamed ‘danger!’ and ‘run!’ but something was keeping him in place. He felt his heart pounding in his chest but he still couldn't move away. Purple eyes bored into his own.

Jordan placed a deceptively gentle hand on his cheek.

“I don’t like being mistaken for a fool, Schlatt. We made this deal to benefit both of us, yet you exploit my charity,” he patronized. The power radiating from those words nearly had Schlatt tumbling to his knees but he stood firm.

“I’ll give you 24 hours, but,” his hand suddenly gripped his face tightly and forced Schlatt to look at him. What he saw terrified him.

“If you continue to fail to uphold your end of the deal, then, well,” he released his hold on Schlatt, “I hope you’ll be able to get used to the way your currently living,” he threatened. The Captain straightened and gave him yet another unnerving smile.

Out of nowhere, he summoned an intricate clock and began to wind it. It was a beautiful black with purple and gold accents. The outer design of the clock resembled...scales? At the center, there was an ender eye. The numbers weren’t exactly numbers but looked like writing one would find in an enchantment table. How in the hell did Jordan get a clock like this?

He finished winding the clock and Schlatt thought he was going to place it down on his desk. He was wrong once again. A deep purple aura surrounded the clock and it disappeared with a burst of particles. Unfortunately, he could still hear it ticking next to his ear.

“This should remind you of the limited time that you have,” he began to back away before he stopped and turned around with a thoughtful look on his face.

“I’m not a cruel man, JSchlatt. But I do believe in an eye for an eye. I hope you make the right decision,” he said, and he was gone in a flash of purple.

Schlatt shakily sat down—when had he stood up?—and began to draft a peace treaty for Manburg. The writing was shaky and nearly illegible, but it would have to do. Then, he called a meeting for all of SMP to attend.

He sat for 3 hours listening to the incessant ticking. It was becoming more and more distorted in his mind as the hours ticked by. ——————— Once everyone was seated at a round table in the community house, they all looked towards Schlatt for an explanation.

The atmosphere was tense, mainly from Wilbur and Tommy, while the rest tried to sit as comfortably as they could. Dream was practically lounging in his chair.

“So, Schlatt,” Wilbur practically spat his name, “what did you call this oh so important meeting for?” he asked and crossed his arms.

It was his first time seeing Schlatt since his exile and he felt...just a little bit of pity for him. His clothes were rumpled as if he had slept in them, his eyes were red—he looked about ready to fall asleep but always jerked awake at the last second. His eyes were darting to the corners of the room. Wilbur looked around but found nothing out of the ordinary. He could see the others glancing around the room as well, unnerved by Schlatt’s paranoia.

Schlatt, even though he was incredibly shaky and oh so tired, stood up. He was still the President, damn it. All eyes were on him as he cleared his throat.

“I have called this meeting to.....to....” he was having second thoughts. Did he really want to give up his power over Pogtopia and Manburg? He enjoyed the chaos and having control over everything. He wasn’t ready to give this up yet.

He saw the shadows move and the Captain manifested from the shadows. The ticking was nearly deafening. Jordan’s eyes were deadly, his smile nowhere to be found. He looked non-human without his glasses on.

Schlatt was so focused on his appearance that he missed when the Captain drew his sword—a near black blade that looked wickedly sharp. The handle was intricately carved with ancient spells and magic seals. Schlatt noticed too late that Jordan had heard his thoughts.

The Captain rushed at him with his sword raised and cold eyes boring into his soul. HIs smile was nearly feral as he charged. Schlatt shrieked and stumbled backwards into the wall and raised his hands to defend himself from the blows-

But nothing came.

He shakily looked around and noticed that the room was giving him nervous looks. Quakity and Niki were nearly out of their seats while Dream was sitting straight in his chair. Schlatt shakily let out a breath and began to stand.

“Schlatt...” Tubbo began but Schlatt waved him off.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just my imagination,” he easily lied.

Those in attendance saw right through this lie, but decided that once he begins talking, they may get an explanation.

Schlatt took a breath and tried to calm his racing heart. He was so tired. His whole body shook with adrenaline and exhaustion and, god, he just wanted to sleep but he couldn’t. Not with the state he was in now. The Captain’s words echoed in his mind: ‘I hope you can get used to this.’

Schlatt decided that he couldn’t live like this and made his decision. He sat down and took out the drafts of the peace treaty and set them on the table.

“The fuck’s all this?” Tommy quietly mutters while picking up a paper and scrutinizing it. But of course, Tommy’s version of quiet is still decently loud.

“It’s a peace treaty. If you read through this and sign, Manburg and Pogtopia will cease their fighting and hold another election. This time, however, two partied cannot combine their votes,” Schlatt explained. He saw the room looking at him with mixed reactions.

Some looked relieved that the fighting would be over, others were skeptical, and some looked elated at the chance to live peacefully again. Wilbur, however, was not convinced. He was looking at Schlatt skeptically while reading the treaty silently.

‘He’s looking for a loophole,’ was whispered in his ear. It took all of Schlatt’s willpower not to look to his left in fear of what he may see. He could hear the smile on the Captain’s face.

Finally, Wilbur spoke.

“And why should we believe that you would peacefully give up your power? We know that you love the fighting, the wars, the power,” his voice rose as he continued, “why should we trust anything you say?” he finished with a shout.

Wilbur was breathing heavily and glaring at Schlatt. The atmosphere became almost unbearably tense until Jordan finally decided to step in.

He had been silently watching from the shadows, making sure Schlatt stayed in check but also to make sure that the deal was completed. There was mistrust in the air, and to be honest, he was getting impatient. Jordan really wanted to get the treaty over with and go home, take a nap, and preferably not get up for three days.

“Schlatt’s telling the truth,” he says before he steps out of the shadows. He nearly chuckles at the bewildered looks he gets as he steps into view.

A very eager Tubbo is soon clinging to his waist and looking up at him with such relief that he does not regret even the smallest bit of what he’s done to Schlatt. He noticed the boy looked close to tears and was starting to bury his face into his coat.

Jordan placed a gentle hand on Tubbo’s head and he flinched. Oh, he was about to murder whoever hurt his boy. His Lady’s influence reminded him that no, no matter how much it would have been justified, he could not kill someone in this land. He took a deep breath and looked up.

“Does anyone have any questions or will you sign the contract?” he said more as a statement than a question. Tubbo’s arms tightened around his waist. Jordan should really ask him what’s been going on; he wanted to help him and Tommy in any way he could.

Dream, however, had a question.

“How did you get into my server? You’re not whitelisted and I know for a fact that Tubbo doesn’t have the admin power to invite you” Dream said, though he sounded a tad accusatory.

Did he not see what was going on in his server? Did he not care that people were being traumatized? Did he not care that they were losing hope?

The Captain chuckled. The sound caused everyone to shiver and for Schlatt to shrink in his seat. He noticed the clock had stopped ticking and his heart sunk. Fuck, was he too late?

“Dream,” the Captain took off his glasses and his whole visage changed.

His warm brown eyes were now a deep purple that held a small glow to them. His hair was impossibly dark—it looked like of you were put put your hand on it, it would sink right in like a shadow. The outside around his eyes were veins of crying obsidian, a stark contrast to his skin. His clothes floated almost as if he were in water and the pure power of magic that radiated from him was nearly stifling.

“I don’t need your permission to enter your lands when I feel that ethical and moral laws are being broken. I knew something was wrong when Tubbo stopped talking passionately about anything and everything. I knew something was wrong when those from here flinched and loud noises. And I knew something was wrong when you didn’t seem to care,” he spat.

He gently pulled Tubbo from around his waist and walked next to Schlatt. The air around him rippled like water and the shadows grew.

“Now,” he purred. “Schlatt and I made a bit of a deal. A peace treaty that stopped the fighting on these lands that also prohibited future wars in exchange for books on basic magic,” he explained.

The room listened intently.

“But,” he dramatically sighed and Schlatt tried to make himself as small as possible.

“Schlatt here didn’t feel like adhering to our deal very much, so I gave him a bit of incentive,” he stopped there and looked at the room as if that explained everything.

“What does that have to do with my lands?” Dream asked.

Jordan paused. How could he say this as delicately as possible? He sighed and cleaned his glasses in his coat.

“You have to understand that I’m not a cruel man, but I hate being mistaken for a fool. I told Schlatt this when he had five days remaining to complete his end of the deal. If you remember, he may have started acting a bit...differently?” he began.

Niki gasped.

“You were doing that to him? Making him go nearly insane?!” she exclaimed. While she may not like Schlatt, that was cruel of him.

“Yeah, we were really worried for him. What did you do to him, man?” Quakity asked. He was really not liking this side of the Captain.

“I think it was perfectly reasonable, especially when the lives of children were on the line. Honestly, you all should be ashamed of yourselves. Making children fight—who does that?!” he angrily exclaimed.

“They wanted to fight!” Wilbur defended.

Jordan’s dark eyes rounded on him and while he would never admit it, Wilbur was terrified. There was such resentment and disgust in his expression that he almost regretted the war. Almost.

“Have you ever once asked then what they wanted? You’re living in a hole for my goddesses’ sake! Tommy looks like he hasn’t eaten in days and Tubbo is on the brink of tears! Are you so blinded by greed that you can’t see you’re hurting them?” his voice rose as he pointed out the obvious states of the teens.

Tommy was so conflicted. He wanted to defend himself and Wilbur, but he was intimidated by the Captain. He usually never cared for being weaker than other people, but he felt if he used his usual snark he’d be vaporized or something. He looked to Tubbo. His best friend was struggling to keep his emotions in check ever since the Captain arrived, but he knew Tubbo adored the man to high heaven. If Tubbo trusted the Captain’s judgement, then so would he.

Wilbur hadn’t spoken yet, so he did.

“Wil,” he began quietly.

Wilbur turned towards the blond. He hoped he wouldn’t say anything that would confirm what Jordan said.

“Yes, Tommy?” wilbur sounded near accusatory.

The teen but his lip and looked towards Techno, who sat next to him. The pink haired man gave him a subtle nod to continue.

Tommy let put a deep breath. Techno was always right, wasn’t he.

“I.....I want to go home,” he admitted.

Wilbur was shocked. Go home? Why? They were fighting for their country back and Tommy wanted to go home?

“Why would you want to go home, Tommy? I’m so close to getting L’manburg back! If we could just-“

“I don’t want to fight anymore!” he cried. The room went silent.

“I don’t want to fight, Wil....” he said again in a small voice.

Wilbur didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell if he was angry or heartbroken at Tommy’s admission. He didn’t want to fight?

“We can go home if you want, Tommy. Just let me call Phil and we can head over once the meeting is done,” Techno said softly.

Tommy nearly cried in relief. He would get to see Phil again and sleep in a proper bed in a comfy house. He hugged Techno tightly, not caring if it ruined his alpha male reputation.

“Thanks, Techno,” he shakily said.

Tommy looked towards Tubbo.

“Do you want to come along, Big T?” he asked with a small smile.

Tubbo hesitated. He wanted to go with Tommy, he really did, but he just felt...safer with the Captain. Jordan must have sensed his conflict because he immediately changed the conversation.

“So,” he drawled and garnered everyone’s attention, “will you sign or subject Schlatt to some more mind games for the rest of his life?” he asked. It wasn’t a threat, but they knew a promise when they saw one.

“How do we know that you’ll continue to pester Schlatt and not just leave him be?” Quakity asked.

“Please, no, just sign the treaty! He’s legit, he’ll keep going!” Schlatt begged.

He was right, Jordan would have to keep this up if the deal wasn’t finished.

“He’s right. The deal wasn’t just a simple handshake. Our souls are temporarily connected until the deal is completed. Until then, I have power over him,” he revealed.

Quakity’s mouth formed an ‘O’ and immediately signed the treaty. Schlatt nearly sobbed in relief. He knew there was a reason Quakity was in his cabinet.

He passed the treaty to his left and it soon traveled all around the table until it got to Wilbur. He glared at the treaty, then at Schlatt.

“If this is a joke, I’ll kill you myself,” he warned.

Schlatt gave a shaky smile.

“Believe me, I’m really not joking about this.”

Wilbur stared at him a bit longer before signing and passing the paper on. It finally reached Schlatt.

He was about to sign when a pen was in front of his face. He looked at the Captain in confusion.

“This pen will help end the deal. It’s all magicy and stuff, pretty swick,” he explained with a less menacing smile.

Schlatt instantly took the pen and signed his name. The ink glowed red and blue before fading. Schlatt slumped in his seat, unconscious. Some panicked and went to check on him but Jordan stopped them.

“He’s fine, just overtired. He’ll wake up in a day or two with a completely restored mindset,” he soothed.

They nodded but still picked him up and took him to a room with a bed so he could at least rest comfortably.

Jordan clapped his hands together and smile happily.

“Welp, I think that settles everything for today! Unless you have any questions, you guys are good to leave,” he cheerily said.

Some immediately left while others took their time leaving. Niki hugged Tubbo and Tommy before leaving while Techno left to wait outside for Tommy. Wilbur, Tubbo, Tommy, and Jordan were the only ones left in the room.

It seemed like nobody would talk first, so Jordan took a seat next to Tubbo.

“You can go with Tommy, if you want Tubbo. I won’t be offended,” he softly offered.

Tubbo glanced unsurely between Tommy and Jordan.

“Could I...speak with Tommy in private? Please?” he asked.

Jordan nodded and motioned for Wilbur to follow him outside. The brunet hesitated, but with a stern glance he was leaving the room.

Tommy and Tubbo sat in tense silence before they spoke.

“Tommy-“

“Tubbo-“

The tension broke as they laughed with each other. Tommy began before Tubbo could say anything.

“Do you not want to come with me and Phil?” he hesitantly asked. There was an undertone of hurt but Tommy was trying to understand. This was Tubbo, and he trusted Tubbo.

Said best friend looked away as he fidgeted with his fingers and sighed. Tommy felt his chest tighten.

“Come on, just say what you want. I’m a man!” he joked, but it fell a little flat.

Tubbo looked at him.

“It’s nothing against you, Tommy, or-or even Techno or Phil, but, I just....I dunno, I feel....safer? I guess? With the Captain cuz he’s just great and he listens really well and you know how I get sometimes but-“

“Big T you don’t have to defend him,” Tommy cuts him off. It’s not often that Tommy is serious, but he was now.

“I want you to be happy, Tubbo. If you feel safer with the Captain than with us, I guess that’s ok. Just don’t forget about me, yeah? I’ll fucking kill ya, bitch,” he admitted.

Tubbo felt incredibly guilty for leaving his best friend, but he wasn’t staying with the Captain for weeks! Maybe just a few days. He said none of those though and settled for a hug. He buried his face into his friend’s neck and felt Tommy clutch at his shirt.

“Thank you, Tommy, for understanding,” he quietly said.

“No problem, Big T.”

They stayed like that until there was knocking at the door. Jordan popped in with an apologetic look.

“Just wanted to check in. Techno is getting antsy and Wilbur looks ready to demonetize something,” he said to the teens.

Tommy and Tubbo got up from their seats and headed to the door when Jordan stopped them. They looked at the man questioningly but he held no malice on his face. Instead, he was looking at them with some form of understanding.

“Tubbo, whenever you want to visit Tommy, just tell me and I’ll make a portal to Phil’s place. I know you’ll miss him,” he said softly.

Tubbo’s eyes widened and he looked towards Tommy with the biggest smile that the blond couldn’t help but smile back. Tubbo tackled Jordan in a hug.

“Thank you, Captain! Thank you so much!” he exclaimed.

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck and stood a bit awkwardly, “Yeah, thanks.”

Jordan smiled. “Of course.”

There was shouting from outside.

“I think Phil is finally here,” Jordan said.

They peeked outside the room and saw Phil hitting Wilbur with his sandal and the desperate attempts to deflect by Wilbur. Techno was cackling while taking screenshots.

Jordan turned to Tommy.

“I think they’re ready to take you home. Take care, kid,” he said as he nudged Tommy towards the group.

Tommy looked towards Tubbo and they shook hands.

“See you in a few, Big T.”

“As always, Tommy.”

They watched as he ran towards Techno and began to take screenshots as well with a growing smile on his face. His signature loud laugh seemed to brighten the area. Tubbo watched fondly for a bit before Jordan’s hand was on his shoulder. He looked up at Jordan who stared at him with a soft smile.

“Let’s go home, Tubbo. M’lady is eager to meet you,” he said.

Tubbo immediately lit up.

“Does she like bees?! Could you teach me how to do cool magic stuff too?!” he excitedly asked.

Jordan laughed as he made a portal and stepped through with Tubbo.

-----------

There are many rumors surrounding the legendary Captain, but there are a few things for certain.

Even the most kind-hearted people can be cruel, and they can enjoy their own cruelty.

#mianite #jordan maron #captainsparklez #mianitian isles #dream smp #jschlatt #bamf jordan #i made him go a little feral i just love mind games he kinda drives Schlatt to insanity

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eliotandquentinsittinginatree · 5 years ago

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Canon divergent where Quentin is Fen

Soooo, imagine this: Let’s say that Julia takes Quentin’s place in the story so far, ergo her going to Brakebills, getting to know and more or less befriend, the rest of the gang.

They do come into contact with the Beast, realize they have to be the one to stop him, learn about Fillory being real, etc...

Enter the deal with the blacksmith. One of them has to take on the mantle of high king, and that one has to marry the blacksmith’s son, Quentin.

Seeing the cute, young man, (on the short side, semi long hair that has his fingers itching to stroke through, bright eyes, leanly muscled, nice smile, but seems shy, etc), Eliot is a lot more receptive to the whole thing than he was with Fen. (- I like Fen, I think she is a great character, but, well, you know.)

Having a spouse he is actually attracted to and can imagine himself falling in love with eventually, has Eliot put a lot more effort into building a relationship with Quentin.

(Oh, they kill the Beast too, by the way. :-) )

As the son of a blacksmith, having been around weapons his whole life, Quentin knows how to use them. Quentin would still have mental issues, but having grown up in Fillory, where people don’t really know about mental health and depression and treatments and such, Quentin had to seek out alternatives methods to deal with his ‘spells’. (Think about that scene with Quentin and Benedict, when Benedict confessed to Quentin about how his parents had told him to just keep those dark feelings to himself and never talk about them) - So, yeah, Fillory isn’t very progressive when it comes to self-care.

So, whenever Quentin was getting depressed, or as his father would call it, get one of his ‘spells’, his father would make him handle the weapons, or train to fight with them. “A smith can only make a good weapon, when he knows how to fight with a weapon” or something like this.

Needless to say, Quentin got really, freaking good with a sword. (even though he is totally clumsy with almost everything else. Which Eliot just finds adorable)

When King Idri of Loria threatens war if the Fillorians don’t surrender their magic resources, the wellspring (how did this go again?, damn, so much has happened in the seasons), Quentin convinces Eliot to let him fight Idri in Eliot’s stead. (As the high king’s husband, Quentin can take Eliot’s place for certain things.)

Eliot doesn’t like it, because who would enjoy watching the person they are in the process of falling in love with fight another warrior to the death to prevent a war, but with the wellspring just in the beginning stages of getting fixed again, and magic still being wildly unstable, he has to relent to Margo and Quentin’s arguments that Eliot likely wouldn’t stand a chance.

Watching the fight between Quentin and Idri is a kind of sweet torture for Eliot.

Because his boy is god damn hot fighting with a sword, an almost unnatural seeming grace leading Quentin’s usually clumsy movements, as he blocks and parades and attacks.

But it’s also fucking terrifying, because Quentin is fighting TO THE DEATH, and Idri is clearly not a novice with the sword.

Quentin get’s some bruises and cuts (severity of those to be negotiated ;-) ) , but ultimately wins. When it is time to deliver the killing blow, the king’s son, Es, calls a halt to the fight. (He doesn’t want his dad to die, it’s understandable.)

Eliot isn’t interested in peace negotiations just then, and leaves Margo and Tick to hash things out with Prince Es. He is far more concerned with getting his injured husband back to the castle and take care of his wounds. And then apply a whole other set of tender loving care upon Q. ;-)

Eliot at some point in time becomes aware of Quentin’s mental health issues, and does his best to help him with those. With actual communication and reassurance and all those good things.

Maybe there is a kind of loophole to the whole ‘having to stay in Fillory for the rest of your life’ deal, and Eliot can take like, ‘vacations’ on earth. And Eliot would just LOVE the fuck out of showing Quentin all the things he enjoys on earth, and all the things he thinks Quentin would enjoy on earth. And watching Quentin experience all those things that Eliot doesn’t even think are all that remarkable, makes him fall for his husband all over again.

And then we could just have lots of funny, cute, lovely little scenes about the two of them having adventures on earth, and in Fillory, and growing into their roles as leaders of a kingdom, and deepening the bonds of friendship with the rest of the gang, and falling more and more in love with each other every day.

Needless to say, it doesn’t have to follow canon at all after the beast is defeated.

Any takers?

#The Magicians #eliot waugh #quentin coldwater #queliot #queliot headcanons #alternative canon #canon divergence au #quentin as fen #sword fighter quentin #what other tags to put?

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preservationandruin · 4 years ago

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Rhythm of War Liveblog, Part One Part Three (Chapters 9-11)

Alright, sorry for the long wait--I have notes through Part Two, but I’m going to transcribe them without too much commentary on events that happened later, even though now--putting it on a computer--I’m further in the book. Anyway, let’s get this going! Kaladin continues to have a bad day, Navani gets a pen pal, Shallan and Adolin read someone else’s diary, Kaladin is forced to take a vacation, and we check in with Venli and the Long Con.

The epigraphs confirm that pewter continues the pattern of fabrial cages working like allomancy, so that’s just A Thing. Meanwhile, Kaladin is not taking things particularly well. Syl and Teft both try checking in on him, but he rebuffs them; Syl notes that this feels worse than his usual depressive episodes and that it seems like he lives for stormlight, which led me to theorize that Odium was doing some influencing of him and that Stormlight--and Urithiru, when he’s there--disrupts it. Syl also asks how Moash knew about Honor Chasm, which is a good point--Kal says he probably mentioned it around the fire, but that doesn’t seem likely to me. Of course, I could be forgetting things, but Kaladin was always very tight-lipped about that moment in particular. Kaladin also notes that his memories of the good times with Bridge Four seem muted and less distinct, and again it’s hard to tell if that’s mundane depression or the influence of something More. Meanwhile, Navani is in her Floating Research Orb, which is the best thing ever. it’s just an orb with points on the ends that she can use as a study while flying and I want one immediately but with windows. She’s speculating on how Soulcasters work, because they break a lot of the conventional rules of Fabrials--they don’t have a trapped spren visible in the normal world, although in Shadesmar they appear to have inert sentient spren attached to them. Which...uh....is troubling, to say the least. Just a theory here, but could those trapped spren be inkspren? It would explain some of why Ivory’s people are so against bonding Radiants, if at some point humans captured a lot of them to make Soulcasters. Also, they’re one of two spren linked to orders who can Soulcast, and I feel like if they were Cryptics someone would recognize them. Anyway, Navani notes that the depowering fabrial uses the same four-garnet design as the pillar in Urithiru, and we get some of how she’s trying to figure out how to make the pillar work again. (also, it must be noted, Dalinar is being flown by one of the Windrunners and has to wear a mask to stop his face from freezing off, and that’s just a very funny mental image. Navani also apparently tried to convince the windrunners that flying feet-first would be more aerodynamic). Anyway this is about when she notices the gem for a spanreed stuck on the bottom of her desk and flashing, and when she hooks it up, she gets...an interesting message, in cramped handwriting:

You are the monster Navani Kholin. You have caused more pain than any living person. [...] You capture spren. You imprison them. Hundreds of them. You must stop. Stop, or there will be consequences.

GUYS, WE MIGHT BE GETTING INTO FABRIAL ETHICS AND I’M SO EXCITED. Navani points out that the sentient spren don’t see the captured spren in fabrials as being hurt, instead more as animals of burden a la chulls, and even the honorspren agree--to which the mysterious pen pal replies that the honorspren can’t be trusted.

So, that’s ominous, and really interesting. When getting into the ethics of fabrials we get some really interesting places--what rules do spren have for sentience? Do they have a standard? Do humans of Roshar have a standard? After all, the parshmen were considered almost nonsentient, and that wasn’t true at all. I’m very excited to see where this goes. Meanwhile, Shallan and Adolin are cuddling in a carriage and discussing what happened. Adolin, understandably, has trouble differentiating between the various underground organizations on Roshar--Ghostbloods, Sons of Honor, Skybreakers, etc. That’s very fair, there are a lot of shady bastards running around. He also knows that Shallan is still hiding things, but trusts her to tell him eventually.

Guys, I just really love Adolin and the way he’s just. A caring and good person. Adolin Kholin appreciation hours are all hours, always, on this blog. Anyway Shallan goes on to explain some of the deal with the Ghostbloods--that they have inscrutable goals, that they sunk the ship back in Words of Radiance, and that they killed Ialai, meaning they have someone in Shallan and Adolin’s people. While she’s saying this, though, we get that there’s something else going on inside Shallan--she’s terrified that if she tells someone her entire background, they’ll leave, and around those fears is the potential for another alter--Formless--who scares all of them, even Veil. Also Shallan shows Adolin Ialai’s notebook, which he cannot read because he remains illiterate and that remains hilarious to me. The only illiterate Kholins right now are Adolin and the five year old and Gavinor has the excuse of being a five year old. Anyway, we get this interesting bit of notation:

“Like this page--a list of terms or names [Ialai’s] spies had heard. She was trying to define what they were.” Shallan moved her finger down the page. “Nalathis, Scadarial, Tal Dain. Do you recognize any of those?”

This is hilarious because while Adolin doesn’t recognize them, that quote is a direct nod to the fans, who will recognize those names--even transliterated to better match Alethi name structure, they’re the other planets of the Cosmere. Adolin and Shallan try to connect Nalathis to Nalan, which makes some sense but mostly just has me very amused. Can you imagine Nale on Nalthis? He would hate it. He would HATE it.

In any case, it’s only after the entire conversation that Shallan realizes that while she meant to tell Adolin she was a Ghostblood, she hadn’t done that at all, which is...interesting, again. I’m keeping note of these times that Shallan does something she can’t explain.

We go over to Kaladin for the next chapter, where we open with Kaladin informing one of the honorspren--the only one they have who isn’t bonded--to try to work with Rlain, who none of the spren have worked with so far because...spren racism. I mean, I get the hesitance, but come on. Come on.

And then we get the real meat of the chapter, because Dalinar takes Kaladin off of active duty, and Kaladin takes that about as well as could be expected.

Dalinar cites Kaladin’s “battle fatigue”--I’m fairly sure we would call it PTSD--as the reason to pull him off the line, and he’s completely right in terms of his logic. Kaladin very clearly has the initial reaction that is also inspired by trauma, because this is yet again a ilghteyed person of power taking Kaladin’s decisions and agency away from him, but--and he even recognizes this the more the conversation goes on--Dalinar, unlike the ones before him, is doing this out of genuine concern for Kaladin and also because, as a commanding officer, he has to take Kaladin off of the field.

There’s no real good call in this situation, and I think Dalinar made the best one. Taking away what Kaladin sees as his only purpose while he’s relapsing is bad--but leaving him on the field when it clearly isn’t good either for him or for the force he’s working with, and could lead not only to Kaladin’s death but the deaths of other people around him.

We also get more Kaladin introspection, and the fact--stated explicitly now, although it’s been inferrable for a while--that Kaladin thinks there’s something broken about him because he couldn’t swear the Fourth Ideal.

I swear to god, the Fourth Ideal is going to be something about accepting that you can’t save everyone. It’s the only thing that thematically makes sense--it would be a very difficult ideal to swear, particularly given that Windrunners are so dedicated to saving everyone; the Fourth Ideal seems to most likely be the one that gives you Plate, and accepting that you can’t save everyone is the mental step needed to defend yourself from the exact burden Kaladin is breaking under right now--if you feel like you have to save everyone you are going to break, sooner rather than later, and you have to accept that that will sometimes be impossible.

We’re going to see him swear this this book, I am confident we are going to see that this book.

And then we have our first Venli POV! We get a brief description of the hierarchy of the Singers--Singers are lowest, and then Regals like Venli who have Forms of Power, and then Fused, who kill their hosts as they take it over, then thunderclasts and Unmade.

Because everyone is at two degrees of separation at most, Venli is working as the Voice for Leshwi--working in these unsteady, tall watchtowers that have been constructed around Alethkar for the Fused to live in, although only the strongest get rooms at the top of the towers. Leshwi is one of those strongest, not only because of her power but also because she’s kept her sanity mostly intact, unlike many of the Fused.

Venli’s in envoyform, still, which is interesting because it lets her not only speak many languages, but also to understand full intent from the briefest notes of what Leshwi is saying, which is cool. We also get what her goals are, for the moment--she wants to build a dissident group of Singers, a group who could rebuild the Listeners and become a separatist group who follow neither the Fused nor the humans.

Which is interesting. I don’t think it’s going to work--this war is all-consuming, and it’s going to be very hard to fit yourself into a neutral position, especially because Odium and his side are looking for total control. They’re not going to allow people to just walk away.

But I respect Venli for trying. We get some more insight into her powers--she can use stormlight and voidlight, although if she does too much she draws the secretspren who discover Knights Radiant, and she can peer into Shadesmar without drawing their attention.

And then Leshwi barges in to say that something has happened, drawing the war to a new and dangerous point.

#row liveblog #row spoilers #navani kholin deserves better #venli and the long con #protect kaladin stormblessed 2k20 #adolin kholin is a ray of sunlight

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yeats-infection · 5 years ago

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@sqvalors tagged me in a lil writing meme... if you’d like to participate please do and tag me!

ao3 name: fluorescentgrey but i also post some things as drglass (dr. glass is the second song on the fluorescent grey EP by deerhunter, so if i make another pseud it will be likenew, then washoff, etc.)

fandoms: about two thirds of my fics are harry potter or star wars but there are a lot of random little goodies. currently i have shifted into the terror (2018) mode.

number of fics: 59 right now... i will throw a party when i get to 69...

fic i spent the most time on: this is funny because some of these technically took me like six months or more of working on them extremely intermittently... namely, bone machine. the series in the garden has taken me the most time generally... and in that, minuet did take me several months of working really hard while i had a schedule / commute that was not conducive to having a creative practice...

fic i spent the least amount of time on: hilariously, literally my most popular fic by ninety miles, the witcher PWP that i wrote out of spite in two or three hours.

longest fic: the source codes series... particularly heelstone which is 102k. i wrote these two stories in a single summer like a crazy person and i hate talking about them because i find them WAY too gooey. honestly, that’s why they are so long. it’s all the gooeyness!!!!!!

shortest fic: yes, the answer is the witcher porn again (this silly thing is going to be the answer for many other questions in this little meme but i’m just going to stop talking about it while i’m ahead). the west end is just about 50 words longer and is much better and is a much better and more interesting story.

most hits: we’re just going to pretend it’s sex and dying in high society, which has the second most hits. this is certainly due to the fact that @wolfstarwarehouse hypes this story a lot for which i am endlessly grateful!

most kudos: recovery position has the second most kudos so let’s go with that one! i have been very touched by the response to this story, though i do personally like the sequel beachcoma a little more... i understand why not everyone wants to read it because it is a little more bittersweet. but it also comes from my soul.

most comment threads: the two stories in the source codes series are leading here, because i only posted two chapters at a time so that i would get maximal validation, lol.

most bookmarks: in order to talk about a story i haven’t talked about yet, the rosary has the fourth-most. i think this fic is truly my r/s swan song... i said everything i wanted to say and did everything i wanted to do. it’s a really good mystery/noir story that i didn’t think i could pull off until i did! and i love the OCs in it who have sort of manifested these secret headcanons for me that i may expostulate upon someday. thank you to @piovascosimo for the inspiration to write it.

total word count: 1,000,478. lol!

favorite fic i wrote: cannot possibly choose but probably the top five in order of date posted are: desperado, a handful of dust, doom town, beachcoma, jump into the fire

fic i’d rewrite / expand on: i already said all of source codes because it’s way too gooey, i also could make hard time killing floor blues a lot tighter, and a memoir of the flesh deserves a way better ending because i was rushing to make the yuletide deadline...

share a bit of a WIP: i was trying for a while to write a band of brothers AU where they are vietnam vets who start growing cannabis... based on the steve earle song “copperhead road.” this could have been SO good but the plot was too huge and unwieldy so i gave up. my roommate is obsessed with this idea and keeps asking me how it’s going so i may yet finish. but there’s a bit below the cut.

The knock at the door in the night was a sharp shock, bright as lightning, that sent them both back to Khe Sanh and before. Nix ducked. Dick went behind the doorframe. They kept low into the kitchen, where Nix took his old officer’s pistol out from where he kept it hidden behind the fridge. Then they went to the door, keeping to the edges of the hallways.

On the porch was Liebgott. He could have made his own way in likely right onto the couch without either of them noticing, so it was something that he had knocked on the goddamn door. It was particularly something given that none of the boys from Easy should have known about the grow operation, or even about Dick’s farm, being as Dick’s address on file at the V.A. was a post office box in town and Nix’s was still in Jersey. These considerations were nil to somebody who had spent the better part of five years in the bush of Vietnam. He took a last draw from his cigarette and put it out against the rubber sole of his boot, then he put the butt in his pocket. As far as Nix knew, he hadn’t said a word since January 1970.

“Joe,” said Dick diplomatically. He put his hand out and Liebgott took it. Then he took Nix’s. He had handsome dark eyes, but they were full of a wall. You could tell he saw you, but it was like nothing followed the necessary channels to the brain to spur emotional response. It had been like this even while he was still talking, and after a while you got used to it.

“You comin' in,” said Nix, knowing he probably would even if he wasn’t invited.

Inside, they all three sat at the kitchen table in silence nobody was about to break. Finally Dick got up and went to the drawer where they kept the rollies and their share of the product. He passed a sheaf of papers and a film canister full of bud to Liebgott across the table. Nix understood as well as Dick apparently did that there would be no getting anything over on this kid, who had eyes in the back and sides of his head. He’d probably had a nice tour of the property before coming inside. “You hungry, son,” Dick said.

Liebgott shook his head. He extracted one of the buds from the canister and inspected it. They did look mighty good if Nix said so himself. They looked artful in Liebgott’s hand. There were black scabs across his knuckles and a dark rime of filth under those fingernails which still existed. He seemed satisfied enough with what he saw to take a paper out of the sheaf and start shredding the flower into it.

“Captain Nixon calls it Easy Diesel,” said Dick, like he was trying to pretend it wasn’t the funniest thing in the world.

Liebgott looked up and a smile flashed across his face like the savage golden light of a flare falling over the far hills. His smile was sort of brutal, like the edge of a knife in a barfight, or like a seething animal. Luckily it went away as quickly as it had come. He rolled the joint with a quick grace and lit the business end with his old silver Zippo Nixon hadn’t seen since the war. There was a skull engraved on one side and on the other it read IF YOU ARE RECOVERING MY BODY, FUCK YOU.

“I don’t know how you found us, Joe,” Dick said thoughtfully. “You don’t have to… tell us. But we ain’t exactly keen to have just anybody here.” He paused and looked quickly to Nix, who tried to make it abundantly clear by means of eyebrows that he wasn’t sure they ought to go down this road, wherever it was leading. Dick ignored him. Liebgott was watching them, fully understanding their attempted clandestine exchange. “We ain’t exactly keen to have the DEA here,” Dick said at last.

The cherry at the end of the joint atomized with a crackling hiss. Liebgott looked between Dick and Nix with extreme seriousness sullied only by his exhaling a dignified white cloud out his nose. Then he nodded, once, curtly, demonstrating he understood his orders as they had been relayed.

Nix flashed Dick what he thought was a what have you done type look. But Dick looked totally unbothered. He should have gone into this business years ago for how violently unflappable he was. He said to Liebgott, “I’ll get some blankets and you can make up the couch.”

Liebgott shook his head to say no need. He got up, careful not to scrape the chair against the floor, shook each of their hands again, and in less than a minute’s time he was back out the door with nothing more than what he’d come in with except the joint.

Nix and Dick, on the porch, listening to the crickets, watched him disappear into the darkness.

“Are we hallucinating,” said Nix eventually.

“I sure as hell hope not,” Dick replied. “We’ve got to ship all that product or we’ll starve.”

In the morning Nix was in the field, inspecting the plants. Liebgott was standing there at his quarter for god knew how long before he cleared his throat and Nix jumped about six feet in the air. There was a smirk shifting across Liebgott’s face that he would have been better about hiding when Nix had been his commanding officer. He looked like he hadn't slept. Back over there he had looked like that a lot, but it had been different, because of all the uppers they were taking. He cocked his head back over toward the long driveway and then he was off across the dew-wet grass which had already soaked through the hems of his canvas pants and his destroyed shoes.

Nix followed, like a duckling behind a hen. Liebgott still walked as though there were eyes in all sides of his head quickly processing information as he moved. Nix doubted you ever lost that kind of skill, even if in the real world it made you look like a mental patient. He caught up so they could walk side by side through the dew-wet grass. “What did you think,” he asked Liebgott.

Liebgott passed Nix the universal sign of furrowed brow that meant please clarify.

Nix gestured with pinched fingers to his own mouth as though Liebgott were also deaf. “The grass.”

He shaped his hand into an a-ok sign.

“You get any sleep?”

He nodded an infinitesimal nod, like the answer was a secret just for Nix to know.

“Well if you think it could be better just tell me how.”

Nix had had a high school friend whose sister was deaf from scarlet fever and whom he had watched on occasion communicate with her by means of sign language. Early on, back over there, he had sent off to command for a book, but by the time it came he understood it wasn’t that Liebgott couldn’t speak, he just didn’t want to. It was something like how people’s hair supposedly turned white if they witnessed some evil thing, or how people became ascetics in the name of god. If you were really fucked up on drugs or fear or otherwise, or if the natural magical thinking from childhood hadn’t been fully beaten out of you, you might have seen it as the sacrifice he had given to the forest for letting him out without a scratch so many goddamn times. It had been a bit of a trial to explain this to Spiers, who was practical almost to a fault, sometimes.

Liebgott showed another a-ok sign. Then he did a thumbs up which Nix knew meant it was good.

All in all it was smart. If he was still talking, Nix might have asked him, what have you been up to? You been sleeping on the street? You been to the V.A.? What did they tell you? And the answer would’ve been nothing good. Instead they just walked in the cool grass together in the sunshine and the morning was beautiful, and the air was sweet. It was all lovely until Liebgott had to physically stop him, laughing, somehow silently but also hysterically, from stepping right onto the razor-thin tripwire stretched invisibly across the dark gravel.

In the kitchen, Dick was doing the numbers. He took his glasses off when Nix came in and put the coffee on. “He learned a thing or two from Charlie,” Nix said, leaning against the counters.

“Who, Joe?”

“Our driveway is thoroughly ratfucked.”

“Hmm,” said Dick. He put the glasses back on and turned back to the accounting book. He was going to do this whole thing as above board as was humanly possible. The vivid daylight came through the window and struck the lens of his unstylish Ray-Bans and threw a kind of prism of color upon the white paper and the chicken-scratch sums. Nix felt like maybe this was something you would paint if you had the necessary implements and artistic ability. “Maybe we should see if we can get any more help.”

He was mildly ashamed to say it, but the doc had always kind of creeped Nix out. He imagined a hypothetical conversation with Dick, who he knew loved the kid, almost like a son: Listen, don’t get me wrong, he’s a good kid, I owe him my life, yadda yadda. But either he’s dropped the brown acid one too many times or the voodoo exorcism went FUBAR.

The doc had arrived on the farm on the heels of Sunshine and Rainbows, aka Mr. Bright Eyed and Bushy Tailed, aka one Edward “Babe” Heffron. Nix had written Babe in South Philly, being as he was a connoisseur of bud and once upon a time had been famed among their company for smoking anything anyone put in his hand, often to his own detriment. The operation was getting big enough that Nix needed another pair of hands, other than Liebgott, of course, who was still fortifying the long driveway whilst giving away his cover by playing Led Zeppelin IV as loudly as was possible. It was a tough calculation, because Babe was a genius of pot, but he couldn’t keep a damn secret, and lo and behold he had dragged along with him a dark shadow in the human form of Eugene Roe. They came up the driveway in a big old Ford pickup that rattled its rust off in the potholes. Liebgott had dismantled the traps specially for their arrival when they had called from Williamsport to say they were an hour out.

“I figured we could use a medical professional to lend some credibility to the operation,” said Babe thoughtfully, sparking a joint on the porch over sweating jam jars of iced tea.

Roe snorted or something but it wasn’t really a normal person’s self-effacing laugh. Winters clapped his back. Nixon knew Roe had dropped out of medical school after two years but there was no need to say anything. Everyone knew that. Now he was working construction and Babe claimed to be working as a mechanic in a garage, but this seemed suspect given the state of the car they had driven up in.

“Well we sure as hell are glad you boys are here,” said Dick magnanimously.

Babe exhaled an opaque cloud that rivaled Nix’s own father’s ability with a stogie. “Can we see the bush?”

They went out all together to the field and ducked between the rows of corn. Babe knelt in the soil. It was damp with dew and quiet in here. It would have been almost like over there except it smelled good. “What’s the cross,” Babe said, inspecting the plants.

“It’s an indica blend…”

“Well, I can tell that,” he said.

“So you’re an expert on the plant now too?”

“I’ve just smoked an awful lot of joints in my life, Captain Nixon.”

Roe snorted again. When they all looked to him he said, “You said in the letter there was some kind of altruistic reason for all this.”

“It’s medicine, Gene,” Babe said gently, but also like they had had this conversation thirty thousand times. Nix filed away for later the intimation that Roe had read the letter he’d sent Babe at home in South Philadelphia.

“I guess you don’t remember the psychic break you had at the Do Lung Bridge.”

Babe waved this remark off, even though Nix remembered it too. It threw a chill down his back, like a water balloon had hit him at the base of his neck. “That was laced,” Babe said.

“With what!”

“I don’t know! Something bad!” Babe turned to Dick and Nix. “Gene’s teetotal,” he said, like this was a big old point of contention.

So that counted out the bad acid. Maybe he was just like this. Maybe he had had those big sad bug eyes as a child or an infant or a fetus in the womb. “Good on you, Doc,” Nix said.

“I ain’t trying it,” Roe said, folding his arms over his narrow chest, “no matter what it does.”

The doc was a tough cookie. Babe had claimed, over there, about as high as the Byrds song, that the doc came from a long line of the kind of folks described in Dr. John’s “Gris-Gris Gumbo Ya Ya” and that, as such, he could heal wounds with his mind. When it didn’t work, as on the night when Jackson died, or the night when Hoobler died, or in the forest when Muck and Penkala died, or the night when Liebgott stopped speaking, he went to sit for a while on the edge of camp until Dick went over and made him eat something. Nix watched them in a state of confused envy, and then he went to write the letters to the families, so that Dick wouldn’t have to.

At dusk, after they ate a light dinner of corn on the cob and rice and beans, he took the boys up into the hayloft with an armful of blankets. “Sorry this is the best we got,” he said. He had said that about a hundred god damn times since they got here.

Roe looked like he wanted to say, you’ve got to stop apologizing for everything. Instead he said, “Where does Lieb sleep.”

Babe perked up. “Joe’s here?”

“You didn’t see him in the driveway?”

Nix sighed. “He’s gonna want to know what he did wrong that you saw him,” he said.

“Does he still — ”

Nix shook his head. “Not a peep.”

In a couple days time, he couldn’t take it anymore, and he was hot and tired and stoned, up to his elbows in earth in the field, showing Babe how to replant the hatchlings he’d grown from seed. “You guys room together or what?”

“Me and Gene?” Babe’s eyes were red in the corners from smoking and from the sun. “What about you and Dick?”

Dick, who had the radio on inside turned up as loud as it would go, so that they would hear it in the field, playing Crosby Stills and Nash doing “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.” “What about me and Dick?” said Nix.

Babe was a smart kid. He realized this was going nowhere. With muddy hands he popped one of the seedlings out of its little pot and cradled it into the ground. “Well, I think he thinks he’s looking after me, but in actuality, I am looking after him.”

#my fic #asks

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daydreaming-nerd · 5 years ago

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Death Bed (Sebastian Stan x Reader)

This was inspired by the song Death Bed by Powfu! I’ve had this in my head for so long and it’s probably my favorite thing I’ve worked on. I really hope y’all enjoy it! Please leave a comment with some feedback they make my day!!!

Warnings: Cancer, talk of character death, angst, sad ending.

Summary: The reader has been diagnosed with stage 4 terminal cancer. After hearing the news she stops treatment with plans of living out the rest of her days with Sebastian.

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Sebastian wasn’t happy when I decided to stop treatment. It took both me and the doctor to explain to him that it wasn’t going to do any good. But for a man who decided to put a ring on his girls finger just two weeks before that initial doctors trip, I can understand how that could be hard to hear.

So that’s how we ended up here, still in bed, at noon. Sheets disheveled and me laying directly on top of Seb.

I don’t wanna fall asleep, I don’t wanna pass away. I’ve been thinking of our future cause I’ll never see those days...

“I feel like we need to get up and eat eventually,” I said breaking the silence.

“But that would require moving,” He said.

“I know you’re hungry, I can feel your stomach rumbling,” I smiled.

He contemplated his next words, almost deciding if he should let me be right or hold his ground.

“I’m hungry,” he blatantly stated.

“Hi hungry I’m dad,” I said craning my neck up at him to see his reaction.

“I hate you,” He laughed.

“No, you love me,” I said setting my head on his chest again. Another long silence of contentment ensued.

I don’t know why this has has happened, but I probably deserve it.

“How could this happen?” He stated “Why? Why you?”

“I’ve always had the worst luck in life. I probably deserve it.”

He grabbed my chin so I would look at him. With glassed over eyes he said.

“No, not you. Never you,”

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I laid in bed as Seb made blueberry pancakes, our breakfast had turned into more of a brunch. It was almost always brunch these days. On my good days when I had the energy I would try and help but there were times he would make me sit down and watch. I think it made him feel better to take care of me and I wasn’t going to take that from him.

I been praying for forgiveness, you’ve been praying for my health. When I leave this earth hoping you’ll find someone else. ‘Cause yeah we’re still young there’s so much we haven’t done, getting married, start a family, watch your wife with her son.

“So you have any other women lined up for yourself when I finally kick the bucket?” I asked yelled out jokingly.

He walked in with a tray full of our food.

“You really think I’m thinking about that shit? I just put a ring on that finger a couple months ago!” He said sliding into bed next to me.

“You should be thinking about it! Who is going to take care of you when I’m gone huh? Mackie?”

“I’m sure I can figure it out!” he laughed.

I leaned up against his chest and he sighed, running a hand thorough my hair.

“I’m never going to be able to move on from you y/n,” he said in a more serious tone.

“You have to Seb. All we’ve talked about these last three years is settling down, getting married and having kids. I still want that for you,”

“I talked about those things with you though y/n. I wanted it all with you.” he said

I wish it could be me but I won’t make it out this bed, I hope I go to heaven so I see you once again

“I wanted to be your wife so bad,” I said feeling my heart brake.

“Who says you can’t be?” He perked up causing me to sit up and look at him. “Let’s round everyone up right now, anyone who can make it. Who says we need a caterer and a DJ? Let’s get married today!”

“Sebastian Stan I love you,” I smiled planting a kiss on his lips.

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It was the perfect wedding. Chris was in town and Anthony booked a last minute flight in order to get there. Paul Hauser, Seb’s I Tonya co-star made it as well as some of my old co-stars and Sebastians mother. We bought a cake from the supermarket down the street and signed the marriage certificate at NYC City Hall and called every preacher in town before we had to convince Paul to get his five minute minister license online. Sebastian even bought me a dress.

We ended up having the perfect wedding in our apartment. We partied all night with friends and family and ate shitty supermarket cake. Mackie sang Baby Got Back for us and Chris cried giving a toast.

“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” Sebastian started, “I’d like to make a toast and this one might be a tear jerker so someone hand Evans a tissue box,”

Everyone laughed and I moved over to give him a side hug.

“It’s no secret as to why we’re here today and I’d like to say thank you to everyone who came. I know it was last minute, but I’ve wanted to marry this woman for a few years now and there was no way I was letting it slip away from me.” he said looking at me “When I look back at this day I’ll always remember how beautiful you looked and how good it felt to hear you say I do. You’re so strong, brave and beautiful baby and I love you so much. I don’t know how much longer we have left, but I know it’s never going to be enough. So this ones for you Mrs. Stan. You made me the happiest man alive.” He said raising his glass.

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“Hey Mrs. Sebastian Stan can you turn off the light?” said Seb as I walked out of the bathroom towards the bed. I stepped over the discarded white dress and black tux to flip the switch and then I slid into bed next to my husband. We laid on our sides facing each other just noses apart.

“Are you gonna call me that all night?” I asked.

“Of course I am! You’re finally my wife,” He smiled.

“I have been wanting that last name for a while,” I smirked sliding into bed next to him.

“Mrs. Sebastian Stan did you enjoy our wedding?” He asked ever so sweetly

“I don’t think a wedding planner could’ve done any better. I never wanted it to end,”

“I didn’t either,”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re on the same page my dear husband because the wedding night is just beginning!” I smiled pulling him into a kiss.

My life was kinda short, but I got so many blessings. Happy you were mine, it sucks that it’s all ending

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“Can you pass me that pillow?” I asked holding a corner of my favorite blanket up on one of the dining room chairs.

Sebastian passed it over finishing his side and I smooshed the pillow on the blanket holding it in place.

“I’m gonna grab the snacks,” I said standing up and running to the pantry. When I got back Sebastian was already inside our little blanket fort.

I lifted up a blanket and slipped inside where he was sitting on our mattress.

“Did you get my peanut butter?” He asked.

“How could I ever forget,” I said holding it up. “I even grabbed my special touch.” I said holding up the bag of chocolate chip cookies we made earlier.

“God I love you,” He said grabbing the peanut butter while I snuggled into his side.

“I love you too baby,”

“So what are we watching?”

“Funny Girl?” I asked shyly. I had made him see it a thousand times.

“Again?”

“Seb I’m dying, like literally dying,” I whined knowing it always worked on him.

“You can’t keep using the ‘I have terminal cancer’ card! It’s not fair!” He laughed pulling up Funny Girl on the laptop. “This is the last time!”

“Okay last time I promise,” I said curling up with him opening the peanut butter.

That was a promise I intended to keep. I knew my time was coming soon. I could feel myself getting more and more tired everyday. As I laid there watching my favorite movie on Seb I felt my eyes water, simply because I wondered if this would be the last time I saw it. At least I finally got to be Sadie Sadie married lady just like Fanny.

I’m happy that you’re here with me I’m sorry if I tear up...

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I was laying in bed nose to nose with Seb after our movie. Bellies full from finishing a whole jar of peanut butter and cookies.

“What am I gonna do when I don’t have you here to make me watch Funny Girl or Meet Me in St. Louis” he stated.

“I’ll torment you from beyond the grave and make sure all the song’s get stuck in your head so you have no choice but to watch them,” I giggled.

“You are evil!” he said tickling my sides starting a war as I tried to break free from his hold.

When the tickle fights stopped we ended right where we started nose to nose in silence. We both ended up just staring at each other. Perhaps taking one another in. His eyes started to go glassy.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” He said breaking down into tears and pulling me towards him so he was crying into my chest.

It was times like this when my chin sat on his head and I could feel him crying that I wanted to cry with him. But I couldn’t I had to be strong for him. This time he was making it really hard. So I wrapped my arms around his head and ran my fingers through his hair.

“Shhhhh it’s okay I’m here baby. I’m still here, I’m not going anywhere for a while,” I cooed.

I couldn’t tell if I was talking to him or me. Conceivably both of us. As I tried to tell him that I wasn’t going anywhere I was trying to convince myself of the same thing. The thing is these days I’m just not sure anymore.

The phrase “You don’t have as much time as you think you do” was becoming very real right now and I wasn’t sure I would have enough time to bring Sebastian peace before I go.

...Mondays watched a movie. Soon you’ll be alone, sorry that you have to lose me.

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I woke up around 11 the next morning and rolled over to see Sebastian still sleeping. I tried to take a mental picture of how he looked. Snuggling the pillow with one arm, the other draped around me. Pretty eyelashes, deep breaths and hair going two different directions.

“Good morning,” he mumbled opening his eyes.

“Morning baby,” I said running my hand through his hair.

He pulled me towards him so I was laying on his chest.

“We should go walk around the city,” He started “I heard it was going to be a beautiful day. We could go grab some dinner and eat it in the park and maybe go to a show and eat at that ice cream shop you like with the frozen hot chocolate,”

My heart broke because I could tell this was a day he planned when he woke up at some random time last night. His midnight ideas were always his best and they were always the ones he was most excited about. Unfortunately I was super tired and weak today.

“I’m sorry baby. That sounds like the best day ever but I’m not feeling my best today. Maybe if I feel better though we can go out later tonight!” I said trying to give him a little something to hold on to.

“No I can tell you’re not feeling well. Let’s stay here so you can get some rest.” he said adjusting himself so he was more comfortable.

Within a few minutes I was asleep again.

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I woke up to an empty spot where Sebastian used to be.

“yeah man I’m sorry I know I’ve been slacking,”

I could hear him in the living room talking on the phone. It was Don calling him again to see if he was ever going to come back to the gym. I had tried to tell him I didn’t mind if he wanted to go, but he never listened. Ever since I stopped chemo he stopped going to workout with Don. He says its so he can spend more time with me but I wish he would still go. When I’m gone I want him to have something constant in his life that isn’t about me.

“I just can’t leave her man, she’s getting worse and worse every day. I feel like I only have a few more weeks left- Yeah I know call you if I need anything- thanks a lot man, bye,” he said hanging up the phone. I heard him walk towards the bedroom so I pretended to just have woken up.

“Hey baby,” I said with a fake stretch.

“Hey hun you slept good! It’s four o’clock!” he said sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Damn I was tired,” I said rubbing my eyes

“How about I make some dinner?” he asked moving a stray hair out of my face.

“That sounds good!”

“Alright doll I’ll go get started,” he said kissing my temple before he left.

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After our delicious spaghetti dinner we watched a movie of Sebs choice which ended up being When Harry Met Sally and then went to bed.

I woke up with the most energy I’ve had in a while. I immediately remembered Sebastian’s plan for yesterday and was hoping he would still be game today.

“Seba” I said softly running my finger down the bridge of his nose. “Seba wake up,”

He scrunched his nose as he always did when I woke him up this way and eventually opened his eyes.

“Babe lets go do all the things you planned yesterday! It’s only 9 o’clock we can still get breakfast!” I said excitedly.

“I don’t know y/n yesterday you couldn’t even get out of bed and now you have this burst of energy. Maybe we should stay in the apartment again.” He said stretching.

“Sebby please! Its so beautiful out and it’s supposed to rain the rest of week! I need out of this apartment!” I said dawning my best pair of puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, but you have to tell me if you’re not feeling good,” he surrendered.

I immediately jumped out of bed to start getting ready.

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We were walking in the park trying to find that perfect spot by the central park boat house. When we were almost there we saw a street performer who was doing a magic show and I just had to stop and watch. What I didn’t notice was Sebastian going back to the flower stand we passed on our way here. I turned around I saw him exchanging money for flowers. The man handed him a big bouquet of my favorite flowers, pink peonies and roses. I know he wanted to be smooth about giving them to me but I could help but get excited right away.

“Baby!” I exclaimed walking towards him. “What’s all this for?” I asked.

“What I can’t buy my wife flowers?” He smiled handing them to me.

“This is why I fell in love with you, the little things.” I said reaching up to give him a little kiss on the cheek.

We continued our walk towards our favorite spot. It’s the best picnic place in the park. A little area cut out of bushes and shrubs with a big oak tree you can lean against and watch the boats come in and out of the boathouse.

This is where we always had our picnics. He sat down and opened up the brown paper sac that we packed with bread, cheese, strawberries and of course wine. As we ate I leaned against him and watched life pass around me.

“You know, ever since the doctor told me I was dying I started noticing the timeline of everything around me.” I stated.

“Care to elaborate?” asked Seb.

“Well for example that butterfly over there will probably only live for a few more months, but that boat that couple is rowing in might be used for years and years to come.”

“What about me? How long do I have?”

I paused and sat up so I could face him.

“You’re going to do so many amazing things baby. You’re gonna get the Oscar I always wanted,” I said sincerely.

“How do you know?”

“I just do,”

The rest of our day was spent wondering around the park until we went to see The Phantom Of The Opera on broadway, my favorite and yet another surprise from Sebastian. We ended up going to Serendipity for frozen hot chocolate after.

“I don’t know why but I still cry every time I see that show,” I said taking another sip of my drink.

“It’s because you always sympathize with the phantom,” he said.

“I just feel bad for him,”

I looked outside and saw that it was pouring rain and I suddenly remembered something I’ve always wanted to do.

“Babe come on!” I said grabbing Sebastian’s hand and running outside.

“What are you doing? It’s pouring out here, you’re going to get sick! We gotta go back inside!” he said already trying to go back inside.

“No wait!” I yelled over the rain “I’ve always wanted to kiss someone in the rain, ya know like in the movies?”

“Well you should’ve started with that baby!” He said excitedly blue eyes lighting up.

He used his hand to push the wet hair out of my face and connected our lips. It was everything I wanted it to be. The lights of the city shown around us as we clung to each other and our wet clothes molded together. It was the picture perfect movie moment I had always wanted to live out.

Looking back that was probably the best last day I could’ve ever asked for.

The next morning was the definition of “you don’t have as much time as you think you do.”

I woke up way before Sebastian did, about 7 to be exact. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach that this was it. I took the time to memorize Sebastian's face one more time. Around 8 my thoughts were interrupted by Sebastian’s phone ringing. As he began to stir I looked over to see who it was. It was Don. Before he could ignore the call I leaned over his half asleep form and grabbed his phone so I could answer.

“Hi Don this is y/n!” I said trying to sound as chipper as possible. To which Don proceeded to ask if Sebastian would be coming into the gym today to start training for his next role as Bucky. Sebastian violently shook his head no.

“Yeah he’s coming! He’s making breakfast right now. I’m sure he’ll be over there in a little bit- Talk to you later Don, bye!” I said with a smile.

“Babe I really don’t wanna go to the gym today,” he groaned.

“I know baby but you’ve been skipping out for too long now. Will you please go? For me? I know you’ll feel so much better if you do,” I chimed.

“Okay, but only for you.” he said rolling out of bed to put on his gym clothes.

“I love you!” I said knowing it might be my last chance to say so.

“I love you too!” He said as he started walking to the kitchen.

It didn’t take long for him to grab a protein bar and tie his shoes.

“Hey Sebby?” I yelled from bed.

“Yes baby?” He said popping his head into the bedroom.

“Can you bring me a coffee on your way home?” I asked.

“Of course,” he smiled.

“Can I have a kiss?”

He walked over and gave me a short and sweet kiss. A kiss that was far too short.

“I love you so much Sebby! Don’t ever forget it!” I said

“I love you too darling,” He said with a smile.

That was the last time I ever saw him.

Once again I didn’t have as much time as I thought I did to soak all of him in and say goodbye. But this was the right thing to do.

As soon as the door closed I grabbed a pen and paper off his desk and began to write.

Sebby,

I’ve written this letter over and over again in my head but never had the courage to put it down on paper. I’ve never been able to get the words right and lord knows I won’t be able to now, but I’m gonna try. When I was a little girl I watched princess movies day and night. Every day I wondered if I’d ever find a prince of my own. I never really believed I would. Not till I met you. You gave me a love I thought only existed in fairytales or movies. You loved me so much and made every day I had left on this earth so amazing. I wish I could give that same gift back to you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me and I hope one day you can be that for someone else again. You deserve to get all the love you gave me back. Just a few things before I go. Always check your pockets for your headphones before you put them in the wash because I won’t be around anymore to buy you new ones. Make copies of your scripts because you always find a way to spill coffee all over them. The bandaids aren’t in the bathroom they’re in the first aid kit in the closet next to the iron. And above all, I love you so much Sebastian Stan and I always will no matter where I go. You will always be the love of my life. I’ve been all over the world, met so many people and done so many things and I would give them all away for one more moment with you because you, yes you Sebby, were my greatest adventure.

-I love you so much,

Y/N (Mrs. Sebastian Stan)

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I’ve never cried while writing a fic before but I definitely cried during this one. Please leave me a comment below on your thoughts they really help motivate me.

Would any one be interested in a short pt.2/ follow from Sebastian's perspective?

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #Bucky angst #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan angst

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novemberwasgrey · 6 years ago

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Solangelo headcanon #12 (dam it's been so looong)

Okay we know that Will isn't that good at archery so maybe he just doesn't fight in general, he can defend himself ofc (like hello he survived two wars) but he prefers healing others

And every time he sees Nico sparring with his Stygian sword he's shook because ohmigods his boyfriend is just so graceful and when he sweats and it's warm outside and the little shit always wears black he goes shirtless and- ANYWAY you got it. There's a lot of drool and Will is always admirative and proud of Nico

BUT even with his lack of fight abilities, he's still very athletic; he can surf and loves basketball

TO GET TO THE POINT, one day, during spring break, they're dating for over two years now and Will returned home in Austin for school but Nico stayed at camp. They really miss each other and Iris message every day and Will almost yields when Nico proposed to shadow-travel in Texas but he didn't because hello his boyfriend's health is the most important thing. "no underworld-ly powers di Angelo"

However thank the gods for Kayla Knowles, the perfect sister: she planned to visit Will and asks Nico to come with her as a surprise for Will and he accepts right away. Chiron gives them authorization to leave because they asked Percy to do the puppy eyes for them.

(A two hours flight with Nico is the funniest thing Kayla has ever experienced: he can't stop squeaking every area of turbulence they go through, and she laughs so loud that passengers glare at them but Nico glares back and scares them to death)

They go unpack at Will's when they arrive, his mom is on the plan too 'cause she knew how much her son misses his boyfriend. She tells them Will is at the park near their house playing basketball with some friends

Mentally, Nico's like "what? Basketball?" then they go to said park and oh

Like ohhh

Will shoots the ball right when they get here and scores a point and he's all sweaty but cute in his sport clothes

Nico literally forgets how to breath and punches Kayla in the arm when she chuckles at him

Will doesn't notice them at first and keeps playing but his friends stop when they see Nico approaching ("who's that weird emo?" said one of them "he's kinda hot" said another) then Will sees him and the prettiest smile ever paints itself on his face while he replies proudly " watch your mouth guys, that's my boyfriend"

Then he just lets go of the ball and runs in Nico's arms ("I missed you so so so much Death Boy" "I missed you too Sunshine" then he whispers in Will's ear "you're so hot when you play basketball") Will blushes while his friends whistle

Eventually, and after a veeeery long make out session, he says hi to his sister and they all go back to his house

Ever since that day, Nico would always watch Will play with hearts in his eyes. Will is actually on his school's team and always lends his letterman jacket to Nico even though it's too big for him. Nico proudly wears it because it has SOLACE at the back (also, he finds it funny that Will's number is 7 like his cabin)

"So... Am I to believe you like wearing my name?" Nico never replies but can't stop blushing at the idea of being called Nico Solace

#heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #rick riordan #trials of apollo #solangelo #solangelo pride #will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo headcanon #kayla knowles

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sirtravisjacksonoftexas · 4 years ago

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Was Jesus a Mythical Figure Based on the Mesoamerican God Quetzalcoatl? Um, NO, and here is why:

Quetzalcoatl is a Mesoamerican god who at times was depicted as a feathered serpent or dragon. This dragon god was considered benevolent, though he did sacrifice some of his divine brethren. He was at times the mortal enemy of the Sun god Tezcatlipoca, while at other times they worked together. Indeed, each of their fights resulted in the destruction of a world, only for them to work together to make a new one. Their feud also resulted in the extinction or near extinction of the Toltecs, Quetzalcoatl’s people. After Tezcatlipoca massacred them and stripped Quetzalcoatl of most of his powers, the dragon god fled over the sea to the west, though he promised that he would return. The Aztecs (supposedly) thought that Cortez, who arrived in 1519, was himself Quetzalcoatl.

They thought wrong.

What followed was a war of two empires; Aztec and Spanish. Cortez’s conquistadors, along with their Native American allies (all of whom wanted to be free of their yoke) crushed the Aztec army.

Along with this, a new God-Jesus-replaced the gods of the Aztecs.

Jesus Mythicists, however, beg to differ on the latter point.

You see, some of them believe that Quetzalcoatl, the plumed dragon god of Mesoamerica…was the basis for Jesus. Indeed, they believe that, contrary to the historical consensus (and tons of ancient evidence) that Jesus never existed, being purely a mythical figure based on Quetzalcoatl.

Are they right?

Um, do blue whale’s live in the Sahara?

Both questions are answered with a big fat NO.

Let’s see why the idea is flawed, shall we?

1. Incarnate god?

Yes, Quetzalcoatl was born as a human named Ce Acatl Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl. He was also born as the hero Kukulkan (he was identified with the god Kukulkan, another name for Quetzalcoatl). However, it is believed that both heroes are one and the same. He was considered a manifestation of Quetzalcoatl, just as Kukulkan was considered a manifestation of Quetzalcoatl.

Interesting parallel, right?

Um, keep reading…

2. Virgin Birth?

In one myth, he was born by Ometeotl, a god who was actually two gods in one (the god Ometecuhtli and the goddess Omecihuatl). This androgynous entity didn’t seemingly have sex with another god or goddess in order to conceive Quetzalcoatl, but considering that it was reality two gods in one, a male and a female in one…well, let your imagination run with that.

As mentioned earlier Quetzalcoatl was thought to have been born among mortals as well. In one version of the myth, a woman named Chimalman was magically impregnated by her husband Ce Tecpatl Mixcoatl (a leader of the Toltec-Chichimec tribe) by means of an arrow. The resulting child was Ce Acatl Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl.

Sounds like a virgin birth, right?

Wrong.

For one, the myth about Ce Acatl Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl was heavily altered by the Aztecs. His mother and father eventually were thought to be gods instead of mere humans, he was later thought to have been raised by the goddess Quilaztli, and…he was later thought to have been conceived by a magic arrow. Originally, none of this was the case.

Plus, we have to remember that his mother and father were married, and thus might have had sex before the arrow event. Also, who is to say that his mother didn’t have sex before the marriage (what if she was married before? Its not impossible that she was a widow or perhaps a little loose).

Thus, no proof of a virgin birth. Sexless for sure (in a later version of the myth), but not virgin.

3. Star proclaimed his birth?

No.

4. Visited by wise men?

No. BTW: the Wise Men are never stated to be kings in the Bible (Matthew 2:1-16). They were astrologers, not kings. Think about this before you bring up the “Ce Acatl Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl’s father visited him after he was born, and he was a ruler, just like the three kings who visited Christ” faulty comparison up.

5. Someone sought his death after he was born?

Before he was born, Ce Acatl Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl’s mortal father, Ce Tecpatl Mixcoatl was murdered by rivals. Ce Acatl Topiltzin grew up in exile, only to later come back and lay the smackdown on his father’s killers.

There is nothing that states that these murderers sought his life after he was born.

6. Taught in a temple as a boy?

No.

7. Son of a god?

In his divine form he was the son of Ometeotl, the androgynous creator god. In his human form, he was considered the son of mortal parents, despite the magic nature of his conception (how the heck does that work?).

8. Trinity?

Prepare to be confused.

Mesoamerican gods are…complicated. You can already see this with Ometeotl, who is actually two gods in one (which is strikingly similar to the concept of the Trinity). Likewise, some gods and heroes were thought to be manifestations of other gods. Ehecatl, a version of Quetzalcoatl worshipped by the Huastec tribe, was thought by some to not merely be Quetzalcoatl, but a manifestation of Quetzalcoatl. Ce Acatl Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl was another. Kukulkan, another hero, was also thought to be his manifestation (though as previously mentioned, he’s thought to be one and the same as Ce Acatl Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl). Xolotl, a god of Venus, was also thought to be a manifestation of Quetzalcoatl. So was Xolotl’s twin brother (and fellow god of Venus) Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli (in some versions of the myth, Xolotl was a manifestation of Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, thus a manifestation of a manifestation of Quetzalcoatl. In others, Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli was a manifestation of both Quetzalcoatl and Xolotl. In others, Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli and Xolotl are simply twins).

Just wait; it gets more complicated.

Remember mean old Mr. Tezcatlipoca? Well, funny thing; when Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli got into a fight with the sun god Tonatiuh, and received a dart to his head for his troubles, he morphed into the god Itztlacoliuhqui, who was himself a manifestation of… Tezcatlipoca! Indeed, Quetzalcoatl, the enemy of Tezcatlipoca, is himself a manifestation of Tezcatlipoca! According to some scholars, all the Aztec creator gods and goddesses were manifestations of Tezcatlipoca! The Aztecs believed that he had more manifestations than any other god (and as seen with Quetzalcoatl, some of these manifestations had manifestations of their own).

This gives “mental gymnastics” a whole new meaning.

Some try to remedy this confusion by stating that Quetzalcoatl’s true enemy was the Black Tezcatlipoca, another manifestation of Tezcatlipoca proper, but other sources do not make this distinction, and even then, it still a manifestation of Tezcatlipoca fighting another manifestation of Tezcatlipoca.

Tezcatlipoca is fighting…himself!

Needless to say, Tezcatlipoca had issues.

When you put the pieces together, Mesoamerican religion turns out to have many similarities with Hinduism, were some gods are manifestations of others (and all of them manifestations of Brahman). Suffice to say, Mesoamericans had the idea of some deities being manifestations of others, as well as being two or more gods in one (like Ometeotl). However, when it comes to Quetzalcoatl, it doesn’t really translate into a trinity. He had four manifestations to go with his original form. Along with this, he himself was a manifestation of Tezcatlipoca. One could try to make the argument that these are multiple “persons” in a Mesoamerican version of a godhead (hold that thought), but definitely not three in one. Plus, we also have to remember that neither Jesus Christ nor the Holy Spirit are manifestations of God the Father; they are three distinct persons within the godhead. They are never referred to as being individual gods on their own, or as simple manifestations of other gods. Though Jesus is God the Son incarnate, he is not referred to as a “manifestation” of God the Son, complete with his own unique personality differing from that of God the Son: He’s simply God the Son incarnate. These are the big differences between the Hindu “Trinity” or Trimurti and the Biblical Trinity. The same differences apply when Hinduism is replaced with Mesoamerican myth.

Sorry, no Trinity.

9. Called “Morning Star”

As mentioned above, two of Quetzalcoatl’s manifestations, Xolotl and Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, were gods of Venus. Specifically, Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli was the god of Venus when it is the Morning star (as opposed to Xolotl, who was god of Venus as evening star).

Mesoamerica was not unique in this regard; other cultures, including those in the old world, referred to Venus as the “Morning Star”, and thought it was a god.

True, Jesus does call himself the “bright morning star” in Revelation 22:16, but, though Venus is referred to here, Jesus is not teaching that he is literally Venus, any more than he taught his followers that they were literally salt (Matthew 5:13). Indeed, Jesus is actually referring to a Messianic prophecy In Numbers 24:17, which reads;

“I see him, but not now;

I behold him, but not near:

a star shall come out of Jacob,

and a scepter shall rise out of Israel;

it shall crush the forehead of Moab

and break down all the sons of Sheth.”

Along with this, some rulers were referred to as the “Morning Star”. A king of Babylon was called “Morning Star” in Isaiah 14:12. This is one of the rare instances in the ancient near east where a king was referred to as a star (though in later ancient times this was more commonplace). Thus, this is showing Jesus to be the King, to be Messiah, not literally Venus.

See what happens when you interpret the Bible based on its Jewish context? See what happens when you interpret it by its historical and cultural context, instead of interpreting it by Mesoamerican civilization, which was across the Atlantic Ocean?

10. Baptized?

No.

11. Tempted by the Devil?

Tezcatlipoca got the god Quetzalcoatl drunk on wine, which resulted in the latter having sex…with his own sister.

Cue disgusted faces.

In another myth, Tezcatlipoca got Quetzalcoatl to look into his magic obsidian mirror. Quetzalcoatl saw himself as a pale, bearded old man.

Considering that Tezcatlipoca was, among other things, the god of darkness and trickery, one could conceive of these tales as bearing some similarity to the temptation of Christ. However, one has to remember that the differences are legion, including the fact that, unlike Quetzalcoatl…Jesus didn’t give into temptation. Let’s also forget that Satan isn’t a creator god, a sorcerer or omnipotent like Tezcatlipoca. Likewise, Quetzalcoatl isn’t all powerful (pretty obvious) like Christ, or part of a true trinity like Christ.

12. King?

As Ce Acatl Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl, Quetzalcoatl was the ruler of the Toltecs and founded the city of Tula (Later called Tollan). As the hero Kukulkan, he founded the city of Chichen Itza. He subsequently ruled both. Since the Aztecs had emperors/kings of their own, they would have no doubt thought of Ce Acatl Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl as a king. Jesus likewise is a king, but his kingdom is not of this world (John 18:36-37). Though not honored as king by most while he was alive on Earth, Jesus was both king of the Jews (Isaiah 9:6-7, Matthew 2:2, Luke 23:3, John 1:49-50, 18:36-37) and the Divine King (Revelation 19:16).

Big parallel, right?

Wrong.

Keep reading...

13. Carpenter?

No.

14. Preacher?

No.

15. Prophet?

No. Quetzalcoatl had to look through Tezcatlipoca’s magic mirror in order to see the future. There were prophecies made about him, but that doesn’t = him being a prophet. He did promise to return one day, but that’s not a prophecy; it’s a promise. If I promise to bring a dog to your front yard tomorrow and have it take a dump in your flowerbed, does that make me a prophet?

No, it just makes me a guy whose acting like a jerk. One may try to argue that Quetzalcoatl’s statement is a “prophecy” of sorts, but Quetzalcoatl wasn’t stating that one day another god would arrive, that the Aztec lands would one day flood or that demons would create the IRS and tax the Maya to death; he’s simply saying that he’s going to come back. If you tell your parents that you’re coming home for Christmas, does that make you a prophet? No, it just means that you’re going to come home for Christmas.

16. Miracle worker?

All gods were, big deal.

17. Multiplied bread and fish?

No. He brought corn and seeds from Mount Tonacatepetl to his fellow gods. They chewed them all up and then fed them to the first humans.

Not in the same ballpark, folks.

Not by a long shot.

18. Walked on water?

No.

19. Raised the dead?

There are two myths to examine in order to answer this question.

According to Mesoamerican myth, there was four previous worlds before the current one. During the age of the fifth sun (and thus the fifth world), Quetzalcoatl (as Ehecatl) was ordered by the gods to get the bones of humans who perished in the deluge that ended the fourth world. In order to do this, he had to go to Mictlan, an Underworld where the souls of those who died of natural causes went to.

He obeyed, eventually meeting up with Mictlantecuhtli and Mictecacihuatl, the god and goddess of the Underworld, respectively. After a short conversation, Mictlantecuhtli plotted to make sure that the bones would never leave his domain.

First he refused to be parted with the bones unless Quetzalcoatl ran four times around Mictlan while constantly blowing on a conch shell. Mictlantecuhtli didn’t tell him that there were no holes in it, and thus impossible to blow as a trumpet, but Quetzalcoatl summoned worms to bore holes through it and bees to buzz inside it. Though handing the bones over, Mictlantecuhtli later had a pit dug, which he hoped that Quetzalcoatl would fall into, and sure enough he did. Despite this, Quetzalcoatl succeeded in bringing the bones to the other gods. The earth goddess Cihuacoatl ground the bones up and put them in a clay pot. Then, all the gods cut themselves, pouring their blood on the meal. They used this unusual concoction to make the first humans.

That’s one version of the myth.

In another...Quetzalcoatl’s penis somehow bled, and it was this blood that poured onto the bone paste.

Either way, this is not a resurrection; its simply using bones and blood to create a new human race.

In another myth, Quetzalcoatl (as Ehecatl again) had a fling with the virgin goddess Mayahuel. They made love while in the form of a tree with two branches that were entwined. This didn’t sit with Tzitzimitl, a vicious, no-holds-barred grandmother goddess (Imagine Tyler Perry’s Medea with magical powers and rabies, and you get a good idea what Tzitzimitl was like).

Enraged and living long before anger management classes existed, Tzitzimitl cut off the branch that represented Mayahuel and fed it to the Tzitzimime, star demons who were prophesied to one day bring about Armageddon. Afterwards, Ehecatl gathered Mayahuel’s bones and planted them. From these sprang the first agave plants (Mayahuel was the goddess of the Agave plant (aka the Maguey plant). The agave plant was her new form to be sure, so it is a resurrection of sorts, but she didn’t resurrect into her regular form. Her bones were still bones, not acquiring new flesh. She just came back to life…as a plant. Indeed, one might argue that this is a re-creation instead of a resurrection. Considering that the bones serve as seeds for the plant, one might consider it both.

However, it’s a far cry from Jesus, who resurrected people in their human form (Matthew 9:18-26, Mark 5:21-43, Luke 8:40-56, John 11:1-44). One could (slightly) better compare this to the rapture, when all Christians who have died will be both resurrected and transformed by Christ, becoming immortal and ageless (1 Corinthians 15:50-56, Philippians 3:20-21, compare with 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18), but even then…there is a big difference between a resurrected immortal body…and the agave plant.

20. Heal the sick?

No.

21. Cast out demons?

No.

22. Had disciples?

No. As both Ce Acatl Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl and Quetzalcoatl proper, he had the Toltec tribe. As the human Kukulkan, he had the Maya or Maya-Toltecs.

23. Debated religious leaders of his day?

No.

24. Betrayed?

A rival faction among his own people removed Ce Acatl Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl from power. He left with loyal Toltecs to the Gulf of Mexico. Jesus of course was betrayed for 30 pieces of silver.

Smoking gun?

Um, not quite.

Keep reading…

25. Betrayers die soon after?

No.

26. Crucified?

No, the Americas didn’t have crucifixion. It was an invention of the old world. There is a depiction of Quetzalcoatl on a X shaped device, with the god Nanahuatzin coming out of his body, but this seems to be a transformation, not execution. One scholar claimed that Quetzalcoatl was shown to die and resurrect on the Codex Zouche-Nuttall (aka Codex Nuttal) a pre-Columbian text. However, he didn’t describe Quetzalcoatl’s death as supposedly depicted in the Codex Nuttal, let alone a crucifixion (once again, remember that crucifixion is an old-world invention). There is an image of a man tied to a ladder with an arrow in his side in the Codex Nuttal, but the figure in question is not identified as Quetzalcoatl. Plus, being tied to a ladder is far different from being crucified.

27. Resurrected?

As stated above, its been claimed that the Codex Nuttal features the resurrection of Quetzalcoatl. However, once again, its not described, so we don’t know if it matches that of Christ…or if its far, far different. We don’t even know if he is depicted as resurrecting himself (like Christ did) or if someone resurrected him. Indeed, we don’t even know if the term “resurrection” is being used loosely.

In order to find a supposed resurrection, we need to look at myths outside of the Codex Nuttal.

After Quetzalcoatl got drunk and then slept with his own sister, he jumped onto a burning pyre. His ashes became a flock of beautiful birds, while his heart rose skywards, becoming the morning star or Venus.

Is this a resurrection?

Let’s look at those birds first.

If someone turned the hairs of a dead man into clones of William Shatner, would you call that a resurrection?

No, it would simply be making a bunch of stunt doubles for William Shatner. Unless its stated that the dead man’s soul went into that flock of Shatners, its not a bonafide resurrection.

Now let’s look at that heart.

The fact that his heart became Venus does at first seem to indicate some kind of resurrection, due to the fact that the two gods (and personifications) of Venus, Xolotl and Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, were both manifestations of Quetzalcoatl. However, these are just manifestations, not Quetzalcoatl in his usual divine form, and not all versions of Quetzalcoatl’s myth have his heart rising upwards or even has him dying, and yet both Xolotl and Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli are gods of Venus or the morning star in all versions.

Its in a way a resurrection…but in a way not.

Indeed, in another myth, Venus (as Quetzalcoatl) rose from the mouth of a monster (though in this one Quetzalcoatl himself is a personification of Venus). No death is involved. This is not the only myth where Quetzalcoatl doesn’t die. In another, he flees his homeland after Tezcatlipoca decimates the Toltecs. Making a raft of snakes, he sets sail, heading east.

28. Ascended into Heaven?

His heart did rise up into the heavens, becoming the morning star.

A good parallel?

Are Jesus Mythicists right?

Well…only his heart rose into the heavens, not his whole body. Plus, he doesn’t ascend in all of his myths. Its an ascension in a sense…but not on par with Christ’s.

29. Second coming?

Quetzalcoatl claimed that he would return. According to Spanish records, this was thought to have been fulfilled when Cortez arrived in 1519 (Quetzalcoatl was described at times as being white skinned and having a bear. The Spaniards fit that bill). Indeed, he arrived in the same year that it was prophesied that Quetzalcoatl would return, yet another reason why he was mistaken for Quetzalcoatl.

However, most historians now discard the idea that Cortez’ arrival matched that of the “second coming” of Quetzalcoatl. Indeed, it seems to be a later invention.

Um…more on that later.

30. Fights an end time battle?

Quetzalcoatl would return in victory, meaning that he and Tezcatlipoca would again butt heads. Curiously, Cortez, who (according to old Spanish records) was thought at first to have been Quetzalcoatl, led his conquistadors and their native allies to victory against the Aztecs, bringing the worship of Tezcatlipoca to an end (course, he brought an end to the worship of all the other Aztec gods, including Quetzalcoatl).

31. Reigns in a future age?

Quetzalcoatl was to reign in a future age, ruling the world and bringing about global peace (like Christ).

Wow, we have some “parallels”, don’t we? Incarnate god, son of a god, tempted by the devil, a king, “raised” the dead, betrayed, (kinda) resurrected, ascended, second coming, end times battle and a future reign? Wow, surely Quetzalcoatl was the basis for Jesus…right?

Wrong.

You need to set down.

You see…The New Testament was written in the first century AD. Jesus died in about 30 AD.

When did people from the old world first learn of Quetzalcoatl?

Drum roll…

1519 AD.

The year that Cortez reached the land of the Aztecs.

Question; how could first century Jews base a supposedly fictional Jesus on the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl…when the old world wouldn’t know anything about Quetzalcoatl until around 1500 years later?

Definitely blows the Jesus Mythicist argument away, doesn’t it?

Along with this, we have to remember that the vast, vast majority of pre-Columbian texts were destroyed by the Spanish (only 16 survived). All of the texts we have that speak of Quetzalcoatl (save for maybe the Codex Nuttal) date after the conquest, and were written by both Europeans and native allies of the Spanish. There is evidence that shows that the myths were altered, with Christian elements added to them. Thus, if we find any similarities between Quetzalcoatl and Jesus, its because the Christians who preserved the former’s stories added elements of Jesus to him.

Now, some Jesus Mythicists (particularly those who ignore the fact that Spaniards Christianized Aztec and Maya myths) will try to cry foul, saying that Quetzalcoatl is one of the so-called “Dying and Rising gods” of world myth, which Jesus (according to them) belongs to. Thus, Jesus is in a category of Mythical figures, and thus was a mythical figure, and thus never existed.

Well, one, they need to not ignore the fact that Christians did alter the myths.

Two, just because Jesus is (supposedly) in the Dying and Rising God category doesn’t mean that he doesn’t exist. Not only is he accepted as historical by a consensus among historians, there are people and even animals that fit mythical or folkloric categories and yet still exist. Magellan fits the Explorer archetype, Harriet Tubman the Mother archetype, Ivan the Terrible fits the Satan Archetype, and gorillas, Himalayan brown bears, Orantugans and Dengiso tree kangaroos fit the “wild man of the woods” motif in folklore.

Three, they need to realize that the Dying and Rising God mythical category is no longer considered valid. Much of the evidence use to support it turned out to be flawed. Indeed, the consensus among scholars is that there were no so-called Dying and Rising gods before Christianity emerged in the first century. Indeed, the earliest evidence we have for a “dying and rising God” dates a century after Jesus. True, a lot of the gods labeled as “Dying and Rising” gods are older than Christ, but the evidence that shows that they are Dying and Rising gods category postdates the New Testament.

Repeat: Postdates the New Testament.

A lot of these gods are older than Christ, but didn’t become so-called dying and rising gods until after Christ (and remember, the category is no longer considered valid). Though still a topic studied in Biblical scholarship, it has no bearing on how religions, including Christianity, arose.

Folks, Quetzalcoatl is NOT the basis for Jesus.

Jesus is real. He is the King of Kings, Lord of Lords, and I AM THAT I AM.

Jesus…is God.

Sources:

“Mythology of the American Nations” by David M. Jones and Brian L. Molyneaux, 138-39 (see also 94, 100, 102-03, 110-111, 113, 117, 122, 124-26, 129, 130-31, 133, 136, 148, 151-52, 156-57, 159, 163

“Dragons: A Natural History” by Dr. Karl Shuker, 82-85

http://www.tektonics.org/copycat/quetz.php

“Encyclopedia of Gods: Over 2,500 Deities of the World” by Michael Jordan, 214-15

https://www.pbs.org/conquistadors/cortes/cortes_d03.html#:~:text=An%20unnerving%20series%20of%20coincidences,knowledge%2C%20arts%2C%20and%20religion.

https://www.ancient.eu/article/916/cortes--the-fall-of-the-aztec-empire/

https://www.ancient.eu/Montezuma/

https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Tequila_Dictionary/GWl1DwAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=Mayahuel+agave&pg=PT191&printsec=frontcover

https://www.google.com/books/edition/Tequila_Made_Me_Do_It/Tr-mDwAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=Mayahuel+agave&pg=PT8&printsec=frontcover

“¡Tequila! Distilling the Spirit of Mexico” By Marie Sarita Gaytán, 109

https://www.google.com/books/edition/Tequila/3eOmBAAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=Mayahuel+agave&pg=PA109&printsec=frontcover

https://www.britannica.com/topic/crucifixion-capital-punishment

https://www.chapala.com/chapala/magnifecentmexico/codexnuttall/codexnuttall.html

https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/art-americas/early-cultures/mixtec/a/mixtec-codex-zouche-nuttall

https://www.ancient.eu/Jesus_Christ/

“The Portable Seminary: A Master’s Level Overview In One Volume” by David Horton (General Editor), 281

“AMG’s Encyclopedia of World Religions, Cults and the Occult”, by Mark Water, 192

“The Ultimate Encyclopedia of Mythology” By Arthur Cotterell and Rachel Storm, 356

“The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament” by Craig S. Keener, 820-21

“NIV Cultural Backgrounds Study Bible”, 273, 2226, 2271

“The Jesus Legend: A Case for the Historical Reliability of the Synoptic Jesus Tradition” By Paul Rhodes Eddy and Gregory A. Boyd, 143, 145

https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Jesus_Legend/U26_85NmwPUC?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=Dying%2Brising%2Bgods%2BBiblical%2BScholarship&pg=PA143&printsec=frontcover

https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Jesus_Legend/WgROZMp4zDMC?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=Dying%2BRising%2BGods%2Bflawed&pg=PA145&printsec=frontcover

https://www.encyclopedia.com/environment/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/dying-and-rising-gods

“Getting at Jesus” By Peter S. Williams, 84

https://www.google.com/books/edition/Getting_at_Jesus/onyGDwAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=Dying%2BRising%2BGods%2BMisnomer&pg=PT96&printsec=frontcover

“Evidence That Demands a Verdict: Life Changing Truth for a Skeptical World” by Josh McDowell and Sean McDowell, PhD, 311-312.

“The Case for the Resurrection of Jesus” by Gary R. Habermas and Michael R. Licona, 86-92, 296-98

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0-EgjUhRqA

https://sites.psu.edu/leadership/2014/09/13/jungian-archetypes-and-historical-leaders/

https://sirtravisjacksonoftexas.tumblr.com/post/628111397046370304/is-jesus-one-of-the-dying-and-rising-gods-and

“Historical Atlas: A Comprehensive History of the World”

Chief Consultant Dr Geoffery Wawro (40 something historians wrote the book), pages 84-85

“The Middle East: The Cradle of Civilization Revealed” by Dr. Stephen Bourke (13 other historians worked on it), 294-95

“The Encyclopedia of the Ancient Roman Empire”

General Editor: Carlos Gomez (3 others worked on it), 200-201

“The West: Encounters and Transformations (Concise Edition)”, by Brian Levack, Edward Muir, Michael Maas and Meredith Veldman, 111-114

“The Illustrated Atlas of Jewish History: 4000 Years of History” by Martin Gilbert and Josephine Bacon, 41-42

“The Biblical World: an Illustrated Atlas” by Jean-Pierre Isbouts (National Geographic), 267-70

“In the Footsteps of Jesus” by Jean-Pierre Isbouts (National Geographic), 226

“Norris McWhirter’s Book of Historical Records”, by Norris McWhirter, 42

Did Jesus Exist?: The Historical Argument for Jesus of Nazareth by Bart D. Ehrman

Jesus: Evidence and Argument or Mythicist Myths? (Criminal Practice Series)by Maurice Casey

“The Foundations of Western Civilization: Course Guidebook” by Professor Thomas F.X. Noble, 89-96

“The Other Side of History: Daily Life in the Ancient World: Course Guidebook” by Professor Robert Garland, 227-29.

https://www.ancient.eu/Jesus_Christ/

https://historyforatheists.com/jesus-mythicism/

https://brill.com/view/title/17737

https://www.history.com/news/was-jesus-real-historical-evidence

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fanficparker · 6 years ago

Text

Chocolates, flowers and balloons! H.O.

Enemies to Lovers! (University AU!) Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Word count: 3400 words

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff. It’s a crack fic.

A/N: This was my first ever fic, so it’s trash. Read at your own risk.

Summary: Y/n’s first meeting with Harrison was a disaster. They ended up hating each other. But things take new turns and eventually it’s Valentine’s Day. Are chocolates, flowers and balloons enough to please you to go for a date with Harrison?

Walking by your college corridor you see him, the person you hate since the first day of joining the university. You weren’t the first person to witness this feeling of hate, it was him, Harrison John Osterfield. Yeah, yeah you agree, it was your mistake, but it wasn’t that big of an issue than the way he reacted.

It was your first day of college, you were hell nervous, the seniors had arranged a freshmen party and you were invited. The best thing was that you had a companion, your friend from school with you, preventing you from feeling any lonely, but then her gaze landed on someone.

“Oh god he’s so hot!” She blurted out, putting down her drink.

“Who?”

“Him. See there,” she said pointing her finger to your back. You twisted your head seeing a blue-eyed young man with dirty blonde locks chattering with another boy.

“He looks really nice,” you turned back to your friend.

“I was thinking—” She spoke up but you interjected her as you were well aware of your friend’s intentions.

“No no, absolutely not!” You disagreed.

“Pleaaaseee!” She pleaded.

“I won’t talk to him because of you.” You told.

“Please Y/n, pleaaaseee! Just talk to him. Tell him something about me, pleaaasee!” She pursed her face in a childish fashion.

“Stop this melodrama!” You rolled your eyes.

“So you will talk to him for me.” She gave you a full mouth smile.

“Okay fine!” You groaned.

“Thank you!” She did a small victory dance with her hands, making you roll your eyes again.

“Now just go! ” She grinned, as you gulped your drink walking towards him.

You took the adjacent stool to him, ordering a drink, you could see your friend giving you thumbs up in your side vision. It was the first time you rolled your eyes 3 times in just a couple of minutes.

“Soooo…, ” you stood up, trying to gain his attention, but he was too busy chattering about Batman, completely ignoring you.

“Heyyyyyy! I don’t know why I extended that ’y’ so much, but my friend…” You continued but he was still too lost in the conversation plus the blasting music was making it worse. You rolled your eyes for the fourth time, finally deciding to tap his shoulder, and ’accidentally’ you tapped him with the hand holding that red wine glass, and the whole of the glass contents were ’accidentally’ poured on his off-white shiny shirt!

You backed off, as he stood up and turned.

“Shit! I’m sorry, it was an accident. I didn’t—” you blurted out apologies, but he cut you off with his angry look and deep British accent.

“Sorry? Are you kidding me? You just practically sneaked behind me and poured the whole wine on my shirt? How is it an accident?” he spat.

“It’s just I—”

“Look missy, if you would have bumped into me or something like that, then that kind of ‘it was just an accident’ excuses would work, but this situation is too specific!” he tried to copy your voice with his tightened facial expressions. His humiliating mimicry of your voice and some douchebags recording this scene made you a hell mad.

“First of all, I don’t sound like that. Second I just said sorry. Third, you are a big arrogant person!” You squeezed your eyebrows, keeping your hands on your waist.

“Did you just call me an arrogant person! How dare you—”

“Oh, I called you arrogant person. I’m really sorry. The word I was thinking was a. Big. Arrogant. ’Asshole’! ”

And that was the day you met your enemy, named Harrison Osterfield, dragging you into this bloody battle against him. And unfortunately, he was in more than half of the classes with you. Plus your dear friend that dragged you in this war left the college just in the first month as she didn’t like this course. And now you were here to deal with your now 3-month long enemy Harrison Fucking Osterfield. And the cherry on top, you and him are history class partners. Teachers are really wonderful at assigning partner. They are real telepaths, they know who could piss you the most.

The usual boring history lecture began. You were sitting on the bench with Harrison, none of you looking at each other, ignoring each other like the three other months, the only words you both ever shared were related to the class and in a perfect nonchalant voice. The history lecture was boring like always, and Harrison seemed bored too. The side of his blank notebook was touching ’your side’ of the desk. Sounds childish but yep, you both have divided your desk using an invisible line getting each one, half of the desk, and it was forbidden to even touch the other part of the desk. You pushed his notebook to his side of the desk in annoyance and he noticed your annoyance as he smirked to himself, pushing the notebook back to your side. You groaned as the 'battle’ began again, leading you to push it back and he again pushed it to you. After 5 frustrating attempts, you grinned when he pushed his notebook to your place. You gave him a signature smile, grabbing the notebook, keeping it to your side.

“This notebook is now mine! Get a new one!” You twisted your lips as he frowned his eyebrows.

“Hey, that’s mine!” He growled a little loud, both of you got too engrossed in your battle, forgetting that you were in a class with that hot-headed history professor.

“Nah!” You yelled and he tried to snatch that notebook from you as your hands travelled farther and his voice louder.

“Get out!” A third person voice interrupted you and finally, you both noticed that you and he weren’t alone. You both stood straight looking at the professor in disbelief.

“Can’t you both hear, I said get out.” He pointed his finger out and giving each other another death glare, you both walked out.

“What an idiot teacher, going out is far better than that fucking lecture!” You mumbled as you passed the corridor walking towards the park. You sat under a tree, opening your notebook scribbling your name and random shapes until your notebook got snatched. You looked up to see Harrison again squinting his eyes at you. You aggressively stood up, adjusting your skirt.

“What the hell! Give it back! ” you gurged, trying to snatch it from him. But he dropped it behind him and before you could actually pick it up, he pushed you, till your back touched the tree trunk. You wanted to ask him why he was such an asshole and so you spoke up.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did! ” he twisted his lips, acting like he was in a 'thug life’ meme, but you knew how to snap back.

“Guess what?…” You spoke again. He looked at you waiting for you to speak further, but you didn’t.

“What? ” He finally asked. You licked your lips as an amusing smile formed in your face.

“You were supposed to guess!” you smirked, pushing his shoulders and started walking lifting your notebook from the ground but a sound stopped you. A sound of a laugh. His laugh. You turned back to him literally laughing.

“So you have got a sense of humour?” You asked tilting your head. He looked at you, taking a pause from giggling.

“You were funny,” he said simply and a new battle began between you both, the battle of getting the other laugh. And now you just didn’t sit together in your history class but also in the canteen, trying to crack stupid jokes, judging who had a better sense of humour.

“You know I watched this incredible movie. There’s this man whose wife was brutally murdered by a cold-blooded murderer and then his son was kidnapped. The story is about his long and heart throbbing struggle to find his son with the help of a mentally ill-female partner!” He looked into your eyes, appearing thrilled.

“Umm… Sounds interesting. What movie?” You asked generally, thinking he was telling something other than his weird jokes.

“Finding Nemo!”

And things went by like this, laughing, giggling and still you both were calling each other enemies?! It was like February, more than seven months you both were literally hanging out with each other in this 'battle’. And he actually invited you for a movie evening, and now things are just funny between you both. Like seriously you guys still name this relationship envy? (Aren’t you both some kind of jokers?) So you went to his house, expecting a good movie and guess which movie he planned you to watch the 2006 'The Date Movie’, yes that super disgusting, insane, more disgusting than disgusting itself, a movie that could make you throw your tin can on the TV screen. Sounds like his plan wasn’t to watch a movie, it was to annoy you, funny isn’t it?!

“What the bloody hell! This movie? Seriously. Like like why? I mean look at its rating at least. I mean scoring a legendary 7 per cent out of hundred on Rotten Tomatoes isn’t a normal thing!” Listening to you complaining only made the boy laugh.

“What the hell, are you a joker or something… 'hahaha look I got a sense of humour hahaha’… ” You intimated his voice in the most ridiculous way possible.

“That wasn’t funny!” He gave you a childish pout.

“Aww… I feel the same way for your 'movie date’ thing!” You grunted.

“But I guess this will be really funny!” He smirked moving closer to you.

“Wha—” and he started tickling you. And fuck, you are an extremely ticklish person.

“Hey Hey Hey… ” You couldn’t stop laughing. He was on top of you as you layed on your back. He was grabbed your hands throwing them over your head as he quickly began tickling your armpits, your sleeveless blouse made that so easy for him and you were trembling as you couldn’t stop laughing. The corner of your eyes glistened with little tears. None of you didn’t even notice how close your bodies were or in what position you both were until you yelled, “Stop making me laugh!” and he slowed, and stopped tickling you. That was the time you noticed his hot breath on your face. And eventually, he noticed himself so close to you, on top of you! Is that a thing enemies do? There was silence, the sound of laughter had already died. His eyes weren’t leaving yours and you could feel a weird tightening in your chest, something you never felt with him ever. Every memory with him replayed within your mind, you realized how much time you spent with him, and how much you enjoyed that. Your eyes flickered to set on his lips, they just seemed so… kissable. You gulped as your eyes again landed on his eyes and to your surprise, his gaze was on your lips. Your heart felt like exploding. Never in these 10 months, you felt like this and now every past memory in those 10 months felt like you were an idiot for not feeling this before. You wanted to kiss him, so badly, but can enemies kiss? Were you actually enemies?

*Ding Dong*

The doorbell made you both jolt, he instantly pushed himself, leaving you lying on the couch, he didn’t see you in the eyes. It was the first time you saw him so… nervous. And you were sure that, you were the reason for his flustered state. You slowly lifted yourself, sitting straight on the couch. You squeeze your legs tight, you were even feeling so weird, probably… wet, just thinking about that position. He brought the pizza, as the intruder was the pizza delivery boy. You saw him standing right in front of you, his lips felt like moving, but you couldn’t hear anything. He waved his hand over your face, as you flinched finally you could hear.

“I ordered pizza,” he said, his voice was so soft. He sat down beside you. As his knee touched yours so felt the room was getting hotter. Are knees even erogenous? And you could see his hands lightly shaking as he lifted the lid of the pizza box. That was the time you realized you weren’t hungry for pizza, you were hungry for him! Everything felt so weird, you were afraid that he could hear the loud pounding sound of your heart, so you decided to excuse yourself. You left, and he didn’t even say a word, just nodded. And after that you and him were no longer funny, every time your eyes landed on his or his on yours, either of you looked down. It was pretty sure that this was a mutual feeling, he was exactly reacting the way you were reacting. You didn’t actually share any words for like five days.

“So, what are your plans for tomorrow?” Your classmate from your art class asked.

“Tomorrow? Why?” You asked, clueless.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Chika. Where are you living?” You just nodded, not producing any words. You went into the washroom, starring yourself into the mirror. That was the day, you realized how bad you wanted him to ask you out, to make you his. You were in love with Harrison Osterfield! He behaves the same way as you do, so probably feels the same way. But will he make any move? You couldn’t sleep that night, constantly thinking of the next day. You weren’t a person who believed in Valentine’s Day or so, but you wanted to get this relationship with Harrison a name, cause being enemies was long forgotten.

The next day you woke up, realizing you actually slept for like an hour the previous night, probably early morning. Something in you wanted to dress up really well. You couldn’t stop yourself from picking up the knee-length red dress from your wardrobe. You wanted his eyes to trace your body, you wanted his attention so badly. You ended up dressing a little too sexy for college, but you were pretty sure a lot of girls would be dressing really nice for the occasion. You were nervous and nervously you walked into your college campus seeing people sharing compassionate moments.

Nervously you settled down at your seat in your art class. You lifted your desk to keep the spare notebook only to get your breath hitched, instantly covering it again. After a minute you lifted your desk again, seeing so many roses there. The class started, but your mind was lost thinking of the roses hidden inside your desk. After the class was over, leaving you alone, you checked the desk again, picking up the flowers smelling them. You wished you didn’t have a weird person crushing over you, you only wanted Harrison, and you don’t know if these cheesy things were his style or not. Yeah, these were cheesy and cliché but you were liking it. You walked to the canteen trying to spot Harrison but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Some minutes later you saw a college employee walking towards you with a box, a chocolate box. The old woman stood in front of you, giving you a smile, as your face was all confused. She kept it on the table you were sitting. You saw the chocolate box, with a note on top.

'Hope you weren’t allergic to flowers. And also I hope you liked those roses. And here’s my second gift for you.’

The message was a printout, so no chance of reading handwriting. Your mind debated whether or not you should keep the chocolates, but as you previously accepted the flowers you kept the chocolate box inside your bag too. You questioned what if you accidentally received these gifts, but getting gifts two times wasn’t a coincidence. Not seeing Harrison throughout the beginning of the day was already driving you crazy. You were just going to step into another class when another college employee stopped you. You had that confused expressions once again, as he handed you an envelope. You took it. And opened to see a letter, again printed, but it had your name on it. You read it.

'You know it’s time to make a move. Looking forward to see you in your own apartment. Just skip college and come home. Now!’

Your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest, like if it will rip off your skin and bones. The secret person was calling you to your own place. You knew your roommate was bisexual, but she already had a boyfriend and there was no chance it was her. You were in a dilemma to accept or reject this invitation, but it was at your place. You finally gave up, realizing you had to go back home after college, so why not now? And who’s actually interested in some boring lecture and seeing people make-out at the back benches. You went back to your apartment. As the elevator door opened with a ding sound, you felt your palms getting sweaty. You knocked at your own door, but it was already unlocked. You pushed open the door getting in the hall, which was literally dark. You turned towards the switchboard but before you could actually walk to reach it, the lights flickered on, leaving you still as you saw so many heart balloons and confetti was hanging by threads from the ceiling. You heard footsteps from your behind, you turned back.

“Ha– Harrison” You saw him standing right there smiling wearing a gorgeous red suit, matching with your red dress.

“You did all this?” You asked, your voice was almost as a whisper.

“Just borrowed your place from your roommate,” he said rubbing his hands.

“Wasn’t all this a little cheesy and cliché?” You asked as the naughtiness in your tone returned, making him look up.

“You-you didn’t like it?” He hesitated. You took a step towards him, looking into his eyes.

“When did I say that?” You smirked as he nervously chuckled.

“Is that a yes?” He asked again.

“You actually didn’t ask any question, yet?” You pressed your lips in a grin.

“Oh yeah, you’re right!” He said holding your hands as he smiled.

“So… You already have dealt with me as an enemy. Would you like to try dealing with me as my girlfriend?” His unique and hell cute way of proposing made you chuckle. And you nodded in a yes.

“I will, of course, be your girlfriend, my ex-arch nemesis,” you giggled.

“You literally said yes or it’s a dream?” He asked smirking, as his naughty glare too returned.

“Do you really wanna make me pinch you to confirm, Osterfield?” You asked biting your lower lip.

“Nah!… I think a kiss would be great for confirmation,” he grinned as his eyes once again landed on your lips, remembering the previous desire. You smiled as you threw your hands to rest on the back of his neck, his hands travelling to rest on your waist shortly after, pulling you closer, till no space was left. You slowly closed your eyes, both of you leaning in for a long-awaited moment. And there were two ex-arch nemesis moving their lips in sync, tongues gliding into new unexplored territories, your heart melting into the passionate moment and so his…

“Did I wish you Happy Valentine’s Day yet?” He asked panting, breaking the kiss.

“Well… I hope you got better things planned to do with me than just gifting me with chocolates, flowers and balloons!”

_____________

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zeroconnectionn · 5 years ago

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Some ppl might not like this and thats perfectly fair and u can totally ignore this but um,, Wintershieldshock in a The Handmaid's Tale au, anyone? Also no powers/superhumans in this AU.

Darcy is June, Bucky is Nick, and Steve is Luke. Not sure who from the MCU could be the Waterfords tho

more plot and who-would-be-who under the cut (edited bc the tags were limited)

I see Jane as Emily/Ofglen and Nat as Moira. And like Moira, Nat escapes and lives with Steve in Canada, hopefully cooking up plans to get Darcy back and destroy Gilead with the information she has. I also see Wanda as Erin?

I can explain why Bucky would be part of Gilead/Sons of Jacob. I wanna say that maybe Bucky and Steve were in the army together and were discharged from service pre-Gilead. War hardened them both, Bucky lost an arm, Steve can’t forgive himself for it, and things just weren’t the same after they got back. While Steve tried to get better, Bucky was getting worse, mentally and financially. This leads to him getting recruited by SoJ (which is, if you think about it, HYDRA), a terrorist organization that has no qualms targeting angry and vulnerable war vets like Bucky who lost their sense of purpose. They offer him benefits he can’t refuse, namely a new arm that works just as good as his old one, if not better (It’s God’s gift to him, they said) and a new direction in life. He starts working for Commander Pierce as a spy.

Steve goes for therapy to cope with his trauma. One day, he meets Darcy, they fall in love, get married, and later have a daughter named Sarah. Steve tells Darcy about Bucky and everything they’ve been through. Every year, they invite him for holiday celebrations with the Rogers but he seldom attends them. Since his first visit, Darcy decides she doesn’t really like Bucky but she can see how much Steve and Bucky care about each other, and Bucky is Sarah’s favourite uncle who spoils her rotten, so she plays nice when he’s around. Steve thinks the ice between them is funny, his best pal and his best girl at odds with each other despite being eerily similar.

The two men eventually reconnect and catch up on the years spent apart, sharing their personal and very different struggles coping with life after the war. Everything was going well until Bucky confides in Steve about his association with SoJ. Steve begs him to leave but Bucky’s stubborn, firmly believing that SoJ could make the world better. It’s the final nail in the coffin of their childhood friendship. But even then, it’s Bucky’s name that Steve still cries out in his nightmares at night. As she holds him, Darcy finds herself hating Bucky, hating him for hurting Steve like this, hating him for ever leaving them, his family.

Then shit goes down in the US. Bucky warns Steve about Gilead going military, about the coup in the white house, he tells Steve to get his ass to Canada with Darcy and Sarah ASAP. But Steve doesn’t listen, not at first, still blinded by his disgust that Bucky is working for the SoJ but also because he stubbornly believes America can win this fight, that things will get better. They don’t. After that, it’s a race to get past the border. Unbeknownst to the Rogers, Bucky tries to help,and while he’s not there to do it himself, he calls in for a few favours. The plan goes sideways when they’re intercepted by a group of Guardians. Steve gets separated from his wife and kid (who are taken elsewhere) during the chase, gets heavily injured, but manages to cross the border with the help of a few friendlies. Meanwhile, Darcy gets sent to the Red Centre for handmaid training, thinking Steve died and that Sarah is gone forever. (So basically what happened to Luke, June, and Hannah in the flashbacks.)

During the training, she reunites with Jane and Nat. When she gets assigned to the Waterfords, she’s surprised to see Bucky as their Guardian and driver. Their reunion is not sweet, Darcy can barely look at him and has to restrain herself from lashing out at him in the presence of the resident Martha and the Waterfords. Bucky’s equally stunned, all this time he thought Steve and his family made it to Canada. He feels heavy with guilt but puts that aside, understanding now what he’s meant to do, what he was supposed to do. He vows to protect Darcy, to find Sarah, and to get them both to safety, even if she hates him along the way.

(And it’s true. She can’t stand him. How detached he is from this fucking nightmare. How obedient he is to Mr. and Mrs. Waterford. How he guards himself and his secrets, she doesn’t even recognize anymore. But mostly, how tender and gentle he is around her when they’re alone, how apologetic he is, how he smiles at her and cracks jokes to cheer her up like Gilead never happened, like he never had a fucking hand in what transpired, the fact that Steve was right, they were very alike and it was still so easy to banter with him despite all these years, despite everything, but the thing she can’t stand the most is how much he really, really reminds her of Steve.)

But things aren’t as simple in Gilead, even when you’re an Eye. It gets more complicated with Mr. Waterford being sterile. Mrs. Waterford eventually takes things into her own hands and asks Bucky to impregnate Darcy. Unfortunately, he can’t say no. When it’s done, he stays away from the Commander’s home and avoids her, unable to talk to her, look at her. Steve’s girl. Sarah’s ma. What has he done? What did he get them into?

A few nights later, Bucky wakes up to Darcy knocking on his door. It’s the first they’ve seen each other since that night, like properly seen each other and it’s her 2nd time in his room. She doesn’t say anything as she steps in, just closes the door and starts undressing. He’s calculating the risks in his head, the punishment for a handmaid caught with a guardian, but he’s too distracted by what’s happening to stop this. He can’t stop looking at her. He can’t stop wanting her. And Bucky would admit, he’s always been captivated by her beauty and strength, always wondered how Steve could get a dame like her. Fuck, he really shouldn’t be thinking of Steve right now.

When she moves forward to press her lips against his, he stops thinking and allows him to only feel. In the dark of the night, they’re given a choice, one they both offer to each other, and they take it.

A few weeks later, Bucky escorts the Waterfords on their diplomatic trip to Canada. He meets Steve and they have a very, very long conversation.

Cue angsty romantic triangle, depictions of trauma and survival, coping with grief and loss, and finding happiness in a fucked up world! And an OT3 I normally wouldn’t ship

#Wintershieldshock #shieldshock #wintershock #darcy lewis #wanna clarify that i have no intentions on writing this bc i cant write lol #i just can't stop thinking about it and wanted to share #been a way for me to cope w my own trauma lol #can u imagine the fluffy pre-gilead shieldshock flashbacks #just an excuse to make steve and darcy domestic only to rip it away from them in the worst way possible #because i am a glutton for angst #also darcy would have really funny one liners as a handmaid #snarking aunt lydia constantly #im tryna figure out who would be janine #OK BUT MARIA HILL AS A MARTHA AMIRITE #SHE'D TOTALLY LEAD THE MARTHA RESISTANCE

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dailyaudiobible · 6 years ago

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03/20/2019 DAB Transcript

Numbers 30:1-31:54, Luke 4:1-30, Psalms 63:1-11, Proverbs 11:20-21

Today is March 20th. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian. It is a joy, an honor, it is a pleasure to come around the global campfire, come in out of the cold, come in out of the dark and just see the fire glow all around the campfire where we've come to take the next step forward together in community. So, we’re reading from the God's word Translation this week and we will go back out into the wilderness, into the book of Numbers, chapter 30 and 31 today and we will listen to more of the law.

Commentary:

Okay. So, from what we read in the book of Numbers today, we can piece kinda two pieces of a story together that will bring some context for the territory that we’re in and then we'll talk about the gospel of Luke because what we read there today gives us some pretty significant advice for how to conduct ourselves in a specific situation. So, first the book of numbers. God told Moses to attack the Midianites for what they had done to the Israelites and that kinda comes right out of some laws. So, we have to go back a few days. Remember Balak and Moab. Remember Balaam, son of Beor, this Oracle that God spoke to who was supposed to go back to King Balak but only say what God said to say. Remember the angel with the drawn sword, that whole story. He shows back up in Midian today and he is killed in this battle and tying the two pieces of the story together with maybe a little bit of conjecture, what it seems happened is that Balaam could not curse Israel on behalf of Moab. He could not curse Israel on behalf of anyone, but at some point some advice was given on a way maybe that could undermine the Israelites without a curse and that would be to seduce the men with the women. And already we've seen that the intermingling with surrounding nations has already been going on and it has only led the people into idolatry. This is the reason for the battle today and perhaps why the women were named as enemies in the battle today because they had waged a war of their own on Israel through sex. Perhaps a totally different kind of weapon, but no less mortal or harmful in this case. So, that’s what we have going on here. The children of Israel are still trying to get regrouped and get themselves together so that they can actually cross the Jordan River into the promised land. Like, we've been chasing the promised land since January and we're still not there. Like for us, we’re following a story that's leading us toward the promised land but it's taking a while because it took a long time for this promise to come to fruition. So, while the children of Israel are out in the wilderness a million strong, so a formidable society. Yeah, all the surrounding nations are freaked out by them and trying to figure out how to destroy them. And yeah, there are times that they gotta fight back. So, that’s what we see going on in the book of numbers.

Now in the book of Luke, Jesus is baptized, He goes into the wilderness, the Judean wilderness, He is tempted by the devil and then He continues His journey out of the wilderness, north into the Galilee region where He begins his ministry. He eventually makes his way to His hometown. He begins to do the same things He was doing in every other village but He’s not able to because of their lack of faith, because they watched Him grow up, they don't have any respect for what God might be doing. He announces what His mission is from the prophet Isaiah, from the scroll of Isaiah. And then He announces that He in their hearing is fulfilling that prophecy. So, this is happening in His hometown. They are all enraged, like, “no, we saw You grow up, we saw You when You were peeing Your pants, like You're not a prophet. And then they decide…it's so funny…the herd mentality you can kinda see in the Bible and you scratch your head, but the same stuff still happens today. They decide that, even though they watched Him grow up and even though He's announcing that the Spirit of the Lord is upon Him and He has been doing some pretty miraculous things in the region, they're just gonna throw Him off a cliff and be done with it. And, so, they attempted to do that and Jesus walks right through them and goes on His. So listen, in your Christian life there are going to be times when you feel like you're being tempted, tempted of the devil. You may feel like you're in the wilderness when this is happening. It may be confusing to you and you will have to resist the devil because you will have to fight for your life and you may be successful, you may defeat the enemies taunts and temptations and you may move out of the wilderness and into your hometown and you may be called by God to step out and do something only to find out that nobody believes in you at all and are only taunting you. And you may continue to press forward in your calling doing everything that you know to do and staying humble before the Lord as he leads and directs your steps. And the result might be that the people who are closest to you decide to throw you off a cliff. Now that's a metaphor in this situation. I doubt any of your family or friends again actually try to throw you off a cliff, but proverbially you may be written off, you may be abandoned, you may be walked away from, you may feel like you’ve been thrown aside. Here's what you need to do, walk right through the crowd and go on your way. That's what Jesus did. He went somewhere else and healed the sick, healed the brokenhearted, set the captives free, restored site to the blind, brought hearing back to those who were deaf, healed the lame, raised the dead and spoke the good news to anyone with ears to hear or eyes to see. If God has instructed you and invited you into a dance that you and He are to do together and start dancing and stop paying attention to who's watching. Lose yourself in his eyes. Walk through the crowd and go on your way.

Prayer:

Holy Spirit, we invite you into that. It can mean many things to many people in many context and yet its central truth rings true for each of us. We get lost and distracted so often and in so many ways that we our often focusing on why something you may have invited us into can't be a reality, can't be You, can't happen. We get distracted by the taunts and it feels like we’re rejected, abandoned, and thrown off a cliff when what we need to do is walk right through it and move on our way. Show us what that looks like in our stories Holy Spirit as we continue to move through this season of Lent, this season where we continue to contemplate what it cost to give us our freedom for free and how our lives should be oriented as an act of worship because of this in everything we do and say. And one of the things we must learn to do is listen to you above all other voices. So, come Holy Spirit, lead us into all truth, lead us forward on the way that we should go. We pray this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

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You can also go to the Community section and find all the different social media channels that we are on. That's a great place to go as well. Make sure you're following Daily Audio Bible on Twitter and Facebook and Instagram. We’re not, you know, we’re not spammers, but we do try to bring some type of reminder of the point of any days reading home and that try to make any kind of announcements of things that have going on, especially if we have like a technical difficulty or if any anything like that's happening we’re able to communicate through social media that way it's good idea to follow. But there are also groups that you can get involved with and just communicate, communicate with each, like DAB friends. So, check that out. And if you are a woman and you're not in the Daily Audio Bible women's orbit on social media you need to be. My wife Jill heads that up and what a thriving community of women who are being really honest with each other. It’s a beautiful thing. So, check that out. All those links are in the Community section dailyaudiobible.com.

And speaking of women, the women's gathering, the More Gathering for women, which will take place April 11th through 14th. It’s coming up, it's right out in front of us and registrations about to close. So, if it has been on your mind, you have been kinda giving it some thought, then don't procrastinate. Check it out, moregathering.com or you go to dailyaudiobible.com and click the Initiatives section and that will take you to the same place.

In the Initiatives section you’ll also see Israel 2020 and registration is open for next year's pilgrimage to the land of the Bible. That'll take place in February and you can get all the details about that in the Initiatives section.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, if we have a mission together and that common mission to bring God's spoken word to anyone who will listen to it anywhere on this planet, anytime of day or night and to build community around that rhythm so that we know were not alone. If that has been life-giving to you, then thank you for your partnership. Thank you for being life-giving back. There is a link on the homepage. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial.

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:

Hey guys this is Bridget from New York and I’m calling for two reasons. One is, I’m not sure you guys remember me I called last year after my son in law was murdered in front of my daughter and he left behind a three-year-old. Recently, I’ve been praying for her and trying to cover, you know, covering my family, my daughter, my son. Praise my son and my daughter, my three-year-old, God has moved them two houses away from where I lived in an apartment. Long story short, God is good. And then my granddaughter, I’ve been praying for her she’s been struggling with anxiety and fear and headaches and the reason I know is because when I lay hands on her pray over her I literally feel everything that she’s feeling. So, I ask you guys to please lift her up if you don’t mind. Also, please just keep my family, my husband in prayer, his name is Andy, and My daughter Felicity and my son my daughter Abel and Bridget, you know, they’re twins. So, they just moved up here and I’m just hoping that they begin to attend church up here and that it would be consistent and that they would formulate a relationship with the Lord and not just, you know, church but just an intimacy with God. I can say that Brian, this ministry has helped me become more intimate with the Lord. And thank you guys I love you and I love this ministry. Thanks. Bye.

Hi Daily Audio Bible. I can’t believe I’m calling in, but just real quickly, my wife Lily recommended me to start listening to Daily Audio Bible and I started listening this year and it has been simply amazing. I worked at the bank in Charlotte North Carolina and I go in and out and do schooling at night and Daily Audio Bible has been absolutely amazing. It’s been filling my commutes, my times alone with a very and a deep and profound way that I can, you know, connect with God. So, I’m super thankful for Lily, my wife, who told me about this and also for the community, for Brian. And I actually tell so many people around me about it just because it blessed me so much. So, I just want to tell it to somebody people. I want to also acknowledge my beautiful wife. We’re almost celebrating five years. I just want to acknowledge her in front of people, in front of the world, just because she’s so amazing. She has been working so hard lately at ICU, she’s been studying so hard, she’s been taking care of me, taking care of the dog, she’s been just grinding day in and day out and not complaining, and I just want to give her a shout out for that. I love her so much and I want to encourage all other couples out there to continue working on their relationship, to pray for their spouses, to bless their spouses. And I’m super excited. My wife doesn’t even know this, but I bought her the More Gathering ticket and I can’t wait to tell her that she’s going because she needs a break. Blessings to everybody. This is Z from Charlotte North Carolina. Love you all and thank you for listening.

Hi, good morning, afternoon, and evening Daily Audio Bible, this is Gabriel again from the UK. I called a few weeks ago in relation to my daughter, my middle daughter, who went through a surgery. I just wanted to say praise report, the surgery was successful. It was to remove her adenoids and tonsils, which a lot of people seem to retain but we were slightly worried about it. There was slightly scary moment when she stopped breathing and the recovery took 40 minutes even though they said it would take 10 minutes. I forgot to mention in my first message that my daughter, my middle daughter, is actually three years old. So, I guess that would’ve given a bit more context, but anyway the other reason for my call is I…myself and my wife run small group for our house for the church and there’s a member of our small group who’s going through some really bad, I guess, kind of chronic fatigue I guess is the way to describe it, which means that she’s not able to work and she’s such a lovely woman. She basically…her physical affliction and weakness has got to the point that she’s not even able to kind of brush her teeth properly or just do normal things and she’s living with her father who increases the stress which then makes her health worse which means she can’t…gets even more fatigued and the cycle continues. So, just wanted to say, for the purpose of confidentiality, we’ll name her A, the letter A, but if you could pray for her that would be absolutely amazing. But thanks very much everybody and I’ll update with you another time. Just let you know we’re praying for you all around the world. And thanks for this platform Brian and Jill and family. Take care. By now.

Hi this is Victoria soldier just calling tonight to pray for some of the DABbers. I wanted to pray for Scott who is dealing with emotional anxiety and mental health. I want to pray for you, I want to pray for Joy from Nashville who’s going through, and I also want to pray for Bridget having to do with their son, the son, the little 11-month-old that passed away. I want to pray for Sheila and I want to pray for Burning Bush and I want to pray for those who are going through emotional strongholds and those who are going through the strongholds of drugs and the stronghold that won’t let ho and won’t let them have their way in Christ. Gracious Father we just praise You today, we magnify You Lord. I thank You for the DABbers. I thank You for those who call because when they say that they call upon the Lord He shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run and not faint. Oh Lord we just ask You to touch those are who are going through mental health. Lord, You’re a God that can do anything but fail, You’re God that can just touch, You’re a God that can speak to the wind. You can sure speak to mental illness, You can sure deliver Lord, You can deliver from the uttermost __ . Lord there dealing with __ the family that lost that beautiful precious little of 11-month-old. Thank You, Lord for giving them that precious time with him, that he was so precious, that You loved him so much, that You gave them that time. We don’t understand what is happening, but we know that he’s in heaven and that he’s waiting for their parents to come one day and be with them. Lord You encourage them lord. You encourage them and You open doors for them Lord in the name of Jesus. You open doors for healing, You open doors for a greater You in them Lord. Oh Lord we ask You to touch Brian and his family. I ask You to touch…

I walk in circles around the yard and I do it every day sometimes I simply walk and think and sometimes I walk and pray and when I walk am not alone I’m walking with the Lord his Holy Spirit fills me up and his peace is my reward He said He’d keep in perfect peace the mind that’s stayed on Him and perfect peace is what I need when things start looking grim there’s evil present all around I feel like I’m boxed in I know I have to walk away to not get caught in sin help me Lord to boldly walk and know I’m not alone the peace Your Holy Spirit gives surpasses all I’ve known fill me Lord anoint me Lord I long to hear Your voice gently speak into my heart for making You first choice I’m not ashamed to lift You up my life’s an open book when asked if I believe the word You only have to look I try to practice what I preach to hold my lamp up hi so someone else can see God’s love with me just passing by but darkness doesn’t like the light or the clarity that light brings for those of us who love the light will walk like we have wings because truth is light and light is love and love will set You free Jesus is the light of God and all the world to me He said we sometimes have to flee we all have private hells do not stay and tempt Yourself by trying to test Yourselves I’ve been there done that always lost the power of sins to strong I know I’ve when I rely on Him I win and don’t go wrong and so I walk in circles and do it every day as I walk Lord please walk with me and help me not to stray

[email protected]. Like to give a shout out to Sherlock Washington and Kim. Thank you. I love you very much, you’re in my prayers every day. Also like to give a shout out to Walda the Burning Bush that will not be Consumed. Be nice to hear your voice…

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thelyonsempire · 6 years ago

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Once a Single Mom with a Dream, Taraji P. Henson is Now a Hollywood Headliner

Want to know what it feels like for a woman to be a commanding presence in a man’s world? Just ask Taraji P. Henson, who might be the greatest motivational speaker we ladies have at the moment.

“I feel like a boss bitch,” she says, flashing her megawatt grin. “I’m grabbing my nuts, like, ‘Yeah!’ ”

Could we consider this an apt metaphor for the current push-pull of power dynamics? Perhaps. As Henson knows, there’s no time to mince words anymore. From the #MeToo movement to the midterm elections, we’ve seen what happens when women stake their claim. Henson, a single mother from Washington, D.C., who has worked in the industry for over 20 years, is among those finally getting their due — and she’s not afraid to say it.

Her latest film, What Men Want, explicitly explores these themes. Out in February, it flips the script from the Nancy Meyers-directed What Women Want (2000), which starred Mel Gibson and Helen Hunt. Henson plays Ali Davis, a cocky (for lack of a better term) sports agent. After getting passed over for a big promotion, she visits a psychic (the singer Erykah Badu) who provides her with a special tea that allows her to hear men’s thoughts.

Henson stars and also serves as an executive producer. It’s the first time the 48-year-old actress — who has nailed every dramatic role that has come her way — is getting a chance to flex her musical-theater-trained muscles as the lead in a full-fledged comedy. And Henson is clearly in her element, engaging in the kind of “I’ll do anything for laughs” physical antics emblematic of her heroes Carol Burnett and Lucille Ball.

“I’ve always been the funny girl,” Henson says emphatically. “Not that I was pigeonholed. They were all great dramatic roles, but I’ve been dying. I just felt so honored and grateful to get a comedy where I could let it all hang out. My best friend was like, ‘Lord, they don’t know what they have unleashed.’ ”

“Taraji is old-school funny,” says someone who would know, her What Men Want co-star Tracy Morgan. “She is willing to take a pie to the face or stuff a bunch of candy in her mouth to get a laugh. She cuts the monster but doesn’t cut too deep because she knows we need the monster comedy.”

This past November Henson also voiced the animated character Yesss (which Henson pronounces as “Yesssssss” in her sweet drawl) in Ralph Breaks the Internet, Disney’s big-budget sequel to Wreck-It Ralph, which grossed over $400 million worldwide. It was another chance for her to show off her comedic chops, but this time for the kids. And after years of struggling to make it in Hollywood, she’s acutely aware of how doing a family film can help her bank account.

“You know, that’s [audiences buying] four tickets instead of two,” Henson says. “That’s generally going to be the largest-grossing film in anyone’s repertoire.”

To attend InStyle’s shoot, she took a 24-hour break from the Chicago set of Empire and her most significant character to date, the cutting and campy Cookie Lyon. Henson admits that the silver-tongued ex-con and matriarch of the Lyon family was the one who really put her on the Hollywood map. Despite all her successes — in the Oscar-nominated films Hidden Figures and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button — Henson has never had a movie studio bring her overseas to do press. But Cookie has.

“Hollywood executives would tell me that I don’t have fans all the way over there,” Henson says, shaking her head. “I said, ‘You’re lying because they can reach me any time. I’m a finger tap away, and they let me know every day.’ ” And while the international box office plays a big role in getting lead parts in feature films, it was Cookie who let Henson know she was appreciated. “Then we go to Paris [to promote Empire], and it’s standing room only in a room with 1,500 seats. I cried. If you believe what people tell you … you can’t let people tell you shit.”

Henson’s strong sense of self comes from her parents. She was an only child until she was 17 (her half sister, April, now works as her “a-sister-ant”). Her father, Boris, was a Vietnam War vet who battled PTSD and alcoholism throughout her childhood. Despite his mood swings, Henson says, he instilled in her a no-fear attitude that has stuck with her to this day. From her mother, Bernice, she inherited her endless drive and passion.

“I was like the Punky Brewster of the hood,” Henson says with a laugh. “I was a well-rounded kid, but I could also scrap if necessary. But I wasn’t that hard. I still had Strawberry Shortcake wallpaper in my room, and my friend Tracie and I were doing Shakespeare in the Park … and we were in the f—ing hood.”

Though it was clear from an early age that Henson was a natural-born performer, she spent her nascent college years attempting to follow in her father’s footsteps by studying engineering at North Carolina A&T State University. With her colorful outfits and spirited attitude, she earned the on-campus nickname Hollywood, yet it still took failing math classes for her to realize the sciences were not where she belonged. When she called Boris to tell him, he was not surprised.

“Good,” he said. “Get your ass back up to D.C. and enroll in Howard’s drama department. Do what you’re supposed to be doing.”

While attending Howard University, Henson became pregnant with her son, Marcell. After graduation the single mom and her baby boy moved to Los Angeles with $700 borrowed from family and friends so she could pursue her dreams. Between casting calls, there were stints as a substitute teacher for kids with special needs. Eventually she landed an agent, and guest spots on network television shows soon followed. But it was her roles in films such as Baby Boy and Hustle & Flow that really made Hollywood take notice.

Now that she’s got the mic, Henson is putting it to good use, choosing impactful projects like this spring’s The Best of Enemies, about civil-rights activist Ann Atwater and her unlikely friendship with C.P. Ellis (portrayed by Sam Rockwell), a former member of the Ku Klux Klan. She is also starring in and producing a movie about Emmett Till, the teenager who was lynched for allegedly whistling at a white woman in Mississippi in 1955.

“I don’t care if you’re young or old or what color you are, art is so powerful,” she says on the topic of representation. “You can show things to people you’ve never met and you broaden horizons. I don’t take for granted what I have, and I try to use it in any way I can, positively.”

The fact that Hollywood continues to preach about the importance of diversity but then casts predominately white males in lead roles is not lost on the actress. “Here’s the deal: When you talk about money, don’t you want to make money? I want every walk of life [in my films]. If I could put an alien in, I would. I want their money too. Come on, it’s what the world looks like. That’s what people want to see, representation. That’s all. You can make money doing it. It’s a no-brainer.”

She also recently established the Boris Lawrence Henson Foundation (named after her beloved father), which encourages African-Americans with mental-health issues to seek the help they need. “It was born out of necessity,” she says. “You know, traumatic stuff happened to me and my son. [Her ex-boyfriend, Marcell’s father, was murdered in 2003.] You can’t just pray it away. I don’t care how strong you are. It gets to you, and if you don’t deal with it, it manifests itself in ways you don’t even know.

“My white friends have standing appointments with their therapists,” Henson continues. “I was like, ‘Why aren’t we doing that?’ In our culture, it’s taboo.” The first people to sign on? Her male friends from the industry, all of whom wrote checks on the spot. “The black men stepped up. Snoop Dogg, Xzibit, Tracy Morgan, Chance the Rapper all stepped up. I called, they answered. Snoop told me, ‘Baby girl, that’s important. What you’re doing is important.’ Tyrese said, ‘You’re making it cool to seek help.’ ”

Another supportive figure is her fiancé, former NFL cornerback (and Super Bowl XLI winner) Kelvin Hayden. The two were quietly dating for three years before Hayden proposed last Mother’s Day. They are planning to wed this summer in a private, low-key affair, and though her designer friends are offering to make her a dress, Henson is opting for the most efficient route.

“I’m not going to go through 10,000 dresses,” she says. “How does it fit? How do I feel? Does it complement me well? Let’s just go with this one. I know what looks good on me. I’m not going to spend 10 hours on a fitting. I hate that.”

The wedding itself will probably take place in July, once Henson figures out if Empire is going to be picked up for a sixth season. Fortunately, it is filmed in Chicago, where she and Hayden reside with Marcell — now 24 and an aspiring rapper and music producer — and their miniature French bulldog, K-Ball, which was Hayden’s nickname when he played in the NFL.

Their life is a healthy one. Hayden runs his own gym, and she’s always cooking new vegan treats for her tribe. She made the jump to veganism after suffering massive stomach pains while filming The Best of Enemies this past summer. “It took a doctor in Macon, Ga., to say, ‘If you don’t change what you’re doing, you’re going to get stomach cancer.’ I said, ‘Say no more.’ So I switched everything up out of necessity. I want to live. Thank God, because I feel so much better.”

Now that she’s in love, at the top of her game, and clearly adored by the world at large, Henson is ready to expand her repertoire even further. “The older I get, I want to work smarter, not harder,” she says. She’ll answer that superhero hotline if it rings — “DC, Marvel, you all can call me!” — but for now she’s content being the funny girl.

“I want to show you this,” she says, grabbing her phone to play a video that was sent to her by What Men Want director Adam Shankman. It’s footage from an early screening, and the audience is roaring with laughter.

Henson admits to having goose bumps as she cradles the device like a proud mama: “Listen to them cackling!”

#taraji p. henson #InStyle magazine #interview

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hekate1308 · 6 years ago

Text

Pomegranate

Drowley Hades and Persephone AU. Enjoy!

Dean was busy blessing the crops of the land. The people had prayed to him and sacrificed fruits in his temples; and even if they had been lax in their duties, he wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to punish them. He had never been a vindictive god.

It all happened so fast. One second, he was watching the plants fighting through the still-hard earth, smiling upon the first signs of life that made themselves known in the fields; and then everything turned black.

When he woke up, he felt like he was suffocating, or rather, like he imagined suffocating would feel like to a mortal.

He sat up and took in his surroundings.

Although he had never been here before, he knew exactly where he was.

The Underworld.

Small wonder he felt ready to crawl out of his skin; his domain was life, growing, thriving, flourishing life; this was a world of death and destruction.

“Ah, the God who calls himself Dean” a smooth voice made itself known and he turned around to see the Lord of the Underworld.

He had met him before, once or twice, when it had been necessary for all gods to convene. “Crowley. What –“

“Oh, just a little squabble with your father. I thought I could use some leverage.”

“Whatever he gets up to, I have nothing to do with it” Dean pointed out. After all, what did the God of agriculture have to worry about the God of war, unless another one of his battles ruined the fields again? And gods were not like mortals; there were no close-knit families.

“I am aware of that, and yet... You are not just his son, are you? let’s see how he feels when people start dying because the crops won’t grow.”

Dean’s blood ran cold. “This isn’t the people’s fault! They prayed to me! They worship me so I may –“

“Yeah, yeah, you hop around like a squirrel that borrows its nuts and then forgets about them so trees may grow. In that case, you better hope your daddy dearest reacts to my demands soon.”

As it turned out, he didn’t. Dean hadn’t expected it; his father could be stubborn at the best of times; and yet –

And yet.

He could feel earth slowly dying, and every day, it seemed like his own strength was ebbing away as he did so.

He had to do something.

And so Dean, God of Agriculture, of everything that lived and grew, everything that wasn’t death, began exploring the Underworld. He didn’t see much of Crowley at first; he seemed confident that he couldn’t escape; and yet that was exactly what Dean was trying to do.

He was surprised when, a few days into his exploration, he met someone else; obviously a half-God and looking rather annoyed. “You must be Dean. Father told me he had captured you.”

He had never known Crowley had a son. Maybe he had kept it a secret so no one would do what Crowley himself had done when he had taken Dean? “And you are?”

“Gavin.”

Oh. He had heard of him, but had believed it was one of those gods the mortals simply made up. “God of bargaining?”

He nodded. “Father gave me the job. Many try to bargain in their last hour, you see.”

Dean could easily believe that. “Any chance you know how to get out of here?”

Gavin looked at him with pity in his eyes. “Yes, but Father would have my hide if I told you, sorry.”

Dean shuddered for the first time in his life, and Gavin stared at him. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is so... dead here. I cannot stand it.”

He stormed off, unable to stand still any longer. He was sorry to leave Gavin just like that; but he could hardly be blamed for it, since he was imprisoned in a world that was sure to kill him eventually.

Dean was surprised when, after he had been walking around and watching the souls of the dead for a while, Crowley appeared next to him. “You look pale. Let’s have dinner.”

“Let me guess, you don’t want to lose your hostage?” he asked tiredly.

“Something like that. You are certainly not mentally deficient.”

Somehow, Dean got the bizarre impression that coming from Crowley, this was supposed to be a compliment of the highest order.

At their dinner table, Dean looked down at his plate and began to laugh. He couldn’t help himself; this was too much; and he laughed and laughed and laughed like he hadn’t done since he had woken up here.

When he stopped he looked up to find Crowley staring at him – and not just him; the shadows of the dead had formed a circle around them, being drawn to the mirth they had left behind when they had gone down to the underworld.

And for a moment, the darkness didn’t seem so hopeless.

“I...” Crowley was obviously lost for words. He cleared his throat and sat back, scowling at the spirits who quickly scampered. “I would like to know what –“

“I’m the God of agriculture, jackass. Plants are kind of my thing. And those? Those are pomegranate seeds. Nice try to bind me to this place forever.”

Crowley didn’t answer.

But as Dean started to carefully pick the seeds out of his meal, he could have sworn he heard him mumble, “No. Not mentally deficient indeed.”

After that, he saw more of Crowley, which rather surprised him. Certainly he should be discussing the terms of his release with his father? But instead, he seemed content to rule the Underworld from his throne and annoy Dean.

And after a while, he had to admit he didn’t even seem that annoying anymore.

It was the weirdest thing, but somehow –

It was –

He was –

The point was that Crowley could be quite charming and funny if he wanted.

“You know, I probably would have eventually kidnapped you anyway” he commented one day, strolling up to him. “It was time we had something worth looking at around here.”

“So you don’t think the souls are a charming view?” Dean asked. “I personally do love some wistful expressions in the morning.”

“Oh, I can always do wistful” Crowley told him with such a sincere expression on his face that he had to laugh.

What an enigmatic creature the Lord of the Underworld was.

“Squirrel, how are we on this fine morning?”

“Still being oppressed by death and destruction all around me, thanks” he said tiredly. He didn’t think he could truly die, but nonetheless he felt his essence diminish more and more. And he needed his strength – once he returned to earth, he would have to save the fields and the crops.

“And here I thought you were supposed to be cheerful.” Crowley snapped his fingers, and Dean felt some of his lost strength returning.

He stared at him, opened his mouth to thank him.

Crowley looked at him, an indecipherable expression on his face, then walked away.

The fights Crowley had with his son made the ground tremble and the ghosts hide in the most secluded corners of his kingdom. Dean usually stepped in and managed to calm them both down.

“Why do you care?” Crowley hissed one day after he had dragged him away from Gavin yet again.

“Because you do” Dean said simply.

“What –“

“Mom and Dad left me and Sammy to our own devices as soon as we got our bearings” he shrugged, “But you keep him close. You have to care about him.”

Crowley didn’t answer.

Dean had taken to now and then indulging in naps in order to refresh his energy, and one day he woke up feeling much better than in the days and weeks before.

He learned why when he took his usual stroll around the Underworld.

Plants. There were plants everywhere. Not those he knew best, of course; nothing bright and colourful and lively; mostly solanaceae ; but still, living, breathing plants, and he quickly made sure they had all the nourishment they needed.

“I thought you would like them” Crowley remarked casually and Dean turned to find him standing very close to him. “Like you said, I cannot risk my hostage fading away.”

“They’re beautiful” he said, getting up from his knees. “Thank you.”

Crowley was clearly taken aback by his gratitude. “Ahm, yes – of course.”

And then he faded into the shadows, as he was wont to do.

After that, they daily had dinner together, sometimes joined by Gavin; and Dean didn’t even have to pick pomegranate seeds off his plate anymore.

He and Gavin were sailing on the river Lethe, since they had nothing else to do; it seemed like very few people had time to bargain when they were trying not to starve, and of course Dean couldn’t do anything while he was trapped in the Underworld.

“Do you like Father?” Gavin asked suddenly.

Dean, who had been busy watching the souls who had chosen to reincarnate drink from the river, reeled around. “What?”

Gavin shrugged. “I know he likes you.”

“He kidnapped me” Dean reminded him.

“Still. He made plants grow. Here. Of course he likes you.”

Dean didn’t answer. Mostly because he was starting to worry that he did indeed like Crowley, as little sense as it made.

That evening, Gavin left them alone for dinner. Crowley’s hellhound with her three heads, Juliet, did not; but Dean had long since grown used to her.

They mostly stayed silent.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised when Crowley, after they had finished eating and had gotten up from the table, shook his head and walked up to him with a few quick, decisive steps.

He reached out and touched his neck. “Tell me you want me too.”

Dean knew this was a bad idea. Crowley was still his gaoler, so to speak; and who knew what it would do to him and his already mixed emotions if –

He felt himself nod regardless.

The kiss they shared, he was rather sure, was the first of its kind in the Underworld.

After that, Dean’s captivity became decidedly more pleasant – and also harder to leave behind, when the time came.

And then a miracle happened. Apparently his father was tired of people dropping like flies instead of falling in the battle field, and he and Crowley’s fight was cleared up.

Dean almost believed Crowley looked somewhat sad as he told him. Almost. Or maybe that was just because he felt his own heart sink in his breast.

He cleared his throat. “SO I am free to go?”

Crowley wasn’t meeting his eyes. “Yes, you are. If you want, Gavin can show you the way –“

“Do you want me to go?” Dean asked.

“I got what I wanted.”

“Crowley, do you want me to go?”

“Even if I didn’t, you belong up there. Nothing could make you –“

“Yes. Yes, something could” Dean said slowly as he, now being free of all magical bounds and burdens that must have kept him here originally, he realized, pressed a hand to the floor and a pomegranate tree grew.

“Squirrel, what –“

“Do you want me to leave?” he demanded once more, looking him straight in the eyes.

Crowley swallowed. They both knew this was it, the moment of decision. If he let jis pride get the best of him now, if he would rather be alone than to admit –

“No.” It was quietly said, but it was firmly said.

Dean reached out and took a pomegranate into his hands, gently opening it. Then, never taking his eyes off Crowley’s, he swallowed a few seeds.

“You did what?!”

Dean sighed and looked at the God of Sacrifice. “I told you a million times already, Sammy.”

“But – but – that means part of you belongs to the Underworld now! You’ll have to go back there again and again!”

“yep.”

“Yep!?”

After a pause, Sam continued, forcing himself to sound calmer, “Is this about Crowley?”

“Yes.”

“You love him.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah” he admitted, “And the feeling’s mutual.”

“If you think so –“

“I know it is” he interrupted him, remembering the look in Crowley’s eyes as he had admitted he didn’t want Dean to leave.

Sam sighed. “Alright. But what are you going to do about the crops when you have to go to the Underworld –“

“I already thought of that. Talked it over with Crowley. We decided it might be a good idea to give the plants some rest, so there will be a new season.”

“A new season?”

“Yes. We’re going to call it winter.”

“Honey, I’m home!” Dean called out at the beginning of the new, cold season as he strolled into the Underworld.

Juliet ran up to him, her three tongues hanging out of their perspective mouth, clearly ecstatic taht he was back.

“Where’s your Papa, hm?” he asked, scratching her under her middle chin.

Arms wrapped themselves around him. Of course. His God of Death and Destitution, always lurking in the shadows. Dean smiled.

“Miss me?” Crowley asked into his ear.

He turned around to kiss him. “Of course. You know me – too much happy life can get awfully monotonous after a while.”

And then, for the first time in the history of the Underworld, Crowley joined his bonded in his laughter.

#my writings #drowley #dean winchester #crowley #persephone!dean #hades!crowley #this was way too much fun to write

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