#have the original end goal of getting humanity to worship him and his brother again to make things go back to the good old days before that

[diaryofamadsunwukongfan]

Ozpin Wismen

Race: Human

Nationality: Vale

Ethnicity: Valish

Weapon: The Long Memory

Gender: Man

Sexuality: I'm not telling students

Starting Age: 60

Aura Color: Green

Handedness: Left

Complexion: Light tan

Eye Color: Gold

Semblance: you don't need to know that

Occupation: Beacon Academy headmaster

I've made more mistakes than any man, woman, and child on this planet... But fighting against you was never one of them.

Keep telling yourself that, Light-bringer. But you know far better than I do that your fall from grace has been far from elegent.

[kitkatt0430]

Here's a few non-Arrowverse fic ideas

Agents of SHIELD

Set during the VR arc. Grant follows Ada through the portal into the real world while trying to stop her. And while he saves the day, he finds himself in the real world with a real body and, unfortunately, the consequences of the actions of the real Grant Ward looming over him. He's never been Hydra a day in his life - not for real, anyway. Undercover only. But his Skye was Hydra and both she and his world are gone now thanks to Ada shutting the program down before he could stop her. Even if he could get the VR version of Earth up and running again, there'd be no going back.

It wouldn't be a Grant/Daisy fic, but his relationship with the virtual Skye and her almost with the person she wished Grant Ward had been would heavily color their interactions. Grant's main goal is to save his destroyed virtual world - probably getting Mack on board to help him. And Fitz too, but first he and Grant would have to work through their many issues - Grant resenting the part Fitz played in leading Hydra alongside Ada. Knowing Fitz was mind-raped to become that person doesn't make things easier. And, well, Fitz hates Grant for the things the original Ward did and it takes time - and a big fight where they both say things they later regret - before they tentatively come to accept each other.

It's a bittersweet ending sort of fic. Grant is able to restore the virtual world, eventually, using some power source Ada left behind. And they're even able to restore the virtual version of Skye since Daisy merely took her place in the simulation, unlike how things were done with the others. And while Skye chooses to fight against Hydra in Grant's name, Grant himself chooses not to stay in the virtual world - or let Skye know he's still alive. Tied to a real human body, he'd waste away to nothing and die if he tried to return to that life as there's no known way to permanently upload him back into the simulation. Instead he has to learn to accept the life he has now and make the best of it as an Agent of SHIELD.

Final Fantasy VIII

When Seifer failed Ultimecia as her Knight, she cursed him to be incapable of wielding anything created with the intention to be a weapon. Fast forward to the present day and Seifer's largely adjusted to life as a permanent ward of Garden (Squall's working on it) and putting up with Rinoa and Selphie's well meant but incredibly annoying match making tendencies.

When one of his failed dates tries to kill him, it gives Quistis an excuse to ditch her own boring blind date and puts the two of them on track to do a little fake dating - if only to get Rinoa and Selphie off their backs. But it turns out there's more going on than a few assassination attempts against the former Sorceress Knight. A cult of Sorceress Worshipers seeks to resurrect Ultimecia - never mind she technically hasn't even been born yet and might not for centuries and would just kill them for a thank you anyway - and they think her lingering magic within Seifer is just what they need to pull it off...

It's a fake dating fic, so the intention is for it to become real eventually. And for Quistis to save Seifer, though he does get his curse lifted by the end of the fic. And he gets to train with Hyperion for the first time in several years during the Epilogue.

Tales of Graces

The path to becoming a knight is not what Asbel expected. What with Sophie's death and his parents practically selling off his younger brother as the catalyst for his choice to run away, Asbel's lost his happy-go-lucky attitude and gained a reputation for being the most serious and studious student in the academy. But with his funds running low, he might not be anything at the academy soon enough if he can't find himself a part time job to make ends meet.

When he takes a job at a music shop, however, the proprietor seems a lot more interested in teaching Asbel to play the violin and remember how to enjoy life than in making him man the register.

I see this as being more of a multi-part series, mostly one-shots, jumping back and forth between Asbel's time at the Academy (and his growing love for the violin) and the present time period from the game where Asbel's unexpected talents turn out to be a boon for their group as they struggle to save their world. And also helps bridge the gap between Asbel and Hubert as the two brothers reconnect.

[mattspinksjoyblog]

Church Is Family | Thesis #8

“Because both he who carried out the act of rescue and those whom he rescued and restored to innocence originate from the same source; he proudly introduces them as members of his immediate family.” - Heb. 2:11 MIRROR

“A Church which is family is also able to show the closeness and love of a father... a Church of children who see themselves as brothers and sisters, will never end up considering anyone simply as a burden, a problem, an expense, a concern or a risk. Other persons are essentially a gift, and always remain so, even when they walk different paths. The Church is an open house, far from outward pomp, hospitable in the simplicity of her members. This Church can indeed light up the darkness felt by so many men and women. She can credibly point them towards the goal and walk at their side, precisely because she herself first experienced what it is to be reborn in the merciful heart of the Father.” - Pope Francis

The church is going through an incredible time of transition right now… away from hierarchies and toward mutual other-centered love, as family. I pray this to be true, and I am seeing it happen. One of the 95 theses to the modern western church is a plea for this to be so!

The Trinity, Father Son and Holy Spirit, are our source and revelation of this way of Life! And, somehow the world understands that it was meant to be this way. A circle of listening, valuing friends! Through historic misunderstandings of the monarchy of the Father only, and hierarchical, even patriarchal systems, put in place in centuries past by the church, we have poorly reflected the nature of Love from which we come. And, we are suffering for it.

The number of church scandals and abuses that have stemmed from men being put in massive positions of non-equitable power calls us to wake up. Is there not something better for the church?

Surely there are leaders in any family, the scripture speaks of young men, and fathers, and children in the faith. Every family has people at different stages of growth. But, were these meant to develop into top-down leadership models, with big men of God at the front, and leaders who are only seen in pulpits or on platforms? Surely not.

Jesus spoke to this 2000 years ago!

“Don't let people do that to you, put you on a pedestal like that. You all have a single Teacher, and you are all classmates. (9) Don't set people up as experts over your life, letting them tell you what to do. Save that authority for God; let him tell you what to do. No one else should carry the title of 'Father'; you have only one Father, and he's in heaven. (10) And don't let people maneuver you into taking charge of them. There is only one Life-Leader for you and them--Christ. (11) Do you want to stand out? Then step down. Be a servant. (12) If you puff yourself up, you'll get the wind knocked out of you. But if you're content to simply be yourself, your life will count for plenty. (13) I've had it with you! You're hopeless, you religion scholars, you Pharisees! Frauds! Your lives are roadblocks to God's kingdom. You refuse to enter, and won't let anyone else in either.” - Matt. 23:8-13 MSG

It’s high time for us to get back to what W. Paul Young talks about in ‘The Shack,’ “This was always meant to be a conversation among friends.”

When we begin to restructure our lives around our fellow humans as family, when our worship gatherings move back to circles and shared meals and round tables, we will find our authority to speak once again. But, first we need to learn to listen. Healthy family listens to Christ in every member. Of course, there will be more mature folks, and people with different giftings and leadership callings, but these will arise naturally over time. The days of pushing forth titles, and unnatural leader dynamics are over.

“I pray that they may all be one. Father! May they be in us, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they be one, so that the world will believe that you sent me. (22) I gave them the same glory you gave me, so that they may be one, just as you and I are one: (23) I in them and you in me, so that they may be completely one, in order that the world may know that you sent me and that you love them as you love me.” - John 17:21-23 GNB

“For such is the power of love, it embraces, and unites, and fastens together not only those who are present, and near, and visible but also those who are far distant; and neither length of time, nor separation in space, nor anything else of that kind can break up and sunder in pieces the affection of the soul.” - St. John Chrysostom

Maybe, once we discover something more than attending a Sunday service or a Wednesday night prayer meeting with a few leaders doing all the speaking and dictating, but instead doing life together, in love from the heart… maybe then we will have a reflection, a manifestation of paradise to offer the world!

“Avoid their doctrines, and to take careful heed lest we suffer any injury from them; but to flee to the Church, and be brought up in her bosom, and be nourished with the Lord's Scriptures. For the Church has been planted as a garden (paradise) in this world.” - St. Irenaeus

Our life together as the family of God can’t just be groups of people disgruntled about the problems of the church or the world either. Often when communities do begin to move to circle and table and life together, they can forget the value of reading scripture and partaking of sacraments like the eucharist or baptism, and practices like contemplation, and preaching. But, we need to expand our life to include all of life, there is no sacred-secular divide.

Beyond gatherings, what would it look like if we began to consider one another as actual family? Would you mow your mother’s lawn? Help your child with his finances? Go on vacations and have fun together?

Pope Francis spoke to this when he wrote, “The triune God is a communion of love, and the family is its living reflection.”

And, as we begin to live as family, the number of church scandals will decrease, as power is never given to just a small few, and relational life in the Trinity will bring a satisfaction to the soul where it will be less likely for folks to be seeking that in disfunction.

Cheers to all those brave enough to embark on a new way of doing church life, as family in the Grace of Father, Son and Spirit!

-Matt Spinks

____________

Believe in this kind of message and ministry? Donate at: thefirehouseprojects.com/donate

Also, please watch the video version of this thesis where Matt shares more:

[oneofyatosfollowers]

Yatori Week 2021: Day 1

@yatoriweek2021

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32090953/chapters/79500055

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13905660/1/Yatori-Week-2021

God and Mortal

Whether they know it or not, a god falls in love with the first humans they see. 

For most gods, they appear in their original place of worship, where their belief is the strongest. It's the mortals that stand before them that fills those gods with hope and with purpose, with happiness. But when it came to The Yaboku God, a minor deity in every sense of the word, the human that stood before him when he appeared, was the only one. Still, baby blue eyes blinked even wider at the sight of his believer. His purpose. His future. The man scooped him up and sang his praise to the god all the same, filling the tiny child with such happiness.

It was unfortunate that the happiness this tiny god was filled with, was poisoned. Coming from a toxic man who did not worship the god in the honest way a human was supposed to. In fact, this human wasn’t anything like he was supposed to be. This human had the same build as the rest, if not a bit larger. He had the same intelligence, if not even more so. Yet this human was special. The man commanded the demons that yielded to no man or god. He named dead spirits and created gods. This man had a talent for shattering the glass ceilings set before him by the very universe.

As a product of his wish, Yaboku was similar to the man in many ways. This man who raised him. He was just as on the cusp of a taboo existence, a black hole compared to the shining stars around him, beautiful in a terrifying way yet just as powerful. A God of Calamity. Obeying the man who wanted to defy the world’s laws all on his own, a dark mass filled with poison yet fighting to remain holy. Soon Yaboku would realize that he was just as empty as his creator. That he would work forever to fill empty buckets with happiness while it dripped out the holes of their hearts, neither of them getting what they truly wanted.

Before the god would come to that realization, before the child could even begin to give it thought, he would meet another human. She wasn’t a mortal, not like their father, yet he was told she was once human. The girl, a young child like him who was named and bound to the same man, was even less human than their father. A spirit of the dead mixed with that of a demon. She held no memories, no emotion, no hope. But she was human, understanding of that mortality. Yaboku could tell she was human because he wanted so badly to make her smile, her happiness is what fulfilled his purpose. They got along, at least Yaboku thought they did, laughing as those with tight bonds often did. She was strong like their father, in a way that he wasn’t. Her heart never broke, she never wept over the loss of objects or other humans, she saw the larger goal and held herself to a higher standard. His family was something Yaboku would be proud of.

That was, until Yaboku realized the true meaning of the word mortal and how different they were from them. The next human he met was just like the first two, it that she was nothing like them. This human laughed often, like Yaboku, was happy to do things with him and often asked what his thoughts were. His needs. That was odd, his family didn’t do that, but Yaboku figured that was just how she was. He didn’t think too much of it because she was happy which made him happy, so his existence was full. But she taught them there was a difference, a line. It wasn’t that living humans were prey and he was the hunter, it was that they were mortal while he was an existence. His second spirit, bound to the name he gave, took his hand and broadened his horizons. Life was snuffed out easily, mortality is what moved the world yet it was linear to each person that had it. A god was never ending, reincarnating, a constant feeling and existence until it wasn’t. A mortal, a person, lived on in the hearts of those that knew them long after their soul was severed by Yaboku’s blade.

Like most gods, Yato grew until his appearance suited the purpose he was born for. With the loss of his second shinki filling the holes of his heart with scars, Yato was left with the painful poison of his believers. It had been difficult for Yato to live with the knowledge of that line, understanding that he, himself, was not happiness. He knew that mortals were precious, that their lives were unique and easily wiped away, yet he also understood that they were strong. That they endured heartbreak, loss, famine, disease. If whatever they faced didn’t kill them, they would continue down that linear path with even more strength. He still couldn’t understand why his creator and shinki wanted to wipe out every single existence just to get back at those above like him, but that fact alone made up his never ending existence. And that was more painful than anything a mortal could understand.

Mortals weren’t perfect, if his family was anything to go by. His father was hardly the only one hell-bent on eliminating those of his own kind. Yato found that humans struggled with the mortal law of right and wrong. Even if they had the approval of an existence beyond that, a god, they still struggled to have any sort of validation for their actions. An excuse to relive some of the overwhelming guilt of their sins. Mortals were fickle, their memories, their bodies, their morals. As a black hole, it was Yaboku’s job to take on their sins and guilt as his own and hold it within his hollow husk of a heart. They would mix and mingle with the darkness he was made of and fit right at home, just as he was meant to do. This was happiness.

Yet he always noticed the other side. What he was missing. The other gods with all their glowing light and wholesome believers with their honest wishes. Sometimes Yaboku would come in contact with these people. Even have the pleasure of solving their mediocre problems. It could get aggravating to see them fret over such minor things when his entire existence drowned him in a sloppy toxic blackness. Yet it felt nice to be able to solve a problem and for it to go away for good. He felt the gashes in his heart close up a little bit more when the meaningful mortals showered him with gratitude. It was when he waved those happy mortals goodbye, never to be heard from again, that Yato realized that they too had darkness. But despite that they went about their lives without holes in their hearts. That he, with all the emptiness of his father, was an existence with a dripping, bleeding heart.

Yato had made friends with humans throughout his existence. Both living and dead. They were far and few in between- being an assassin tended to isolate him from others- and that was enough. A couple shinki who needed him to shoulder their sins and wipe away their problems. There was also that old fisherman that told the same stories while Yato worked with him by the southern sea. That princess that Yato was to guard until her marriage, who loved the outfits he made. The man who claimed to be a samurai who could always drink him under the table. Those brothers in arms that fought alongside him in matching uniforms when they were far, far too young. And that forgien girl that spun him around the dance floor, gave him a kiss, and let him marry her for nothing but fun before she found her soulmate in a different foreigner. All of them gave him a handful of happy memories that clinked painfully around his chest like five yen coins in a tattered pocket. He enjoyed them, was proud to carry them, but didn’t put too much stock into them. At least until he met her.

She was a believer. An honest to god believer that prayed to him, understood who he was, and had all the good intentions of a proper wish. Her heart was not only solid but strong and her intelligence held a wisdom that only a proper mortal could. Like all humans, she was different than every other yet she was special. It wasn’t just her life that was precious. She was precious, in both the grand scheme of things as a mortal to god and everyday. Hiyori Iki was a human who filled Yato with happiness, filled his heart until it felt so full he could only describe it as contentment. She was everything he asked for and nothing he could possibly have imagined. Yato found he didn’t want anything more than her smile just like a proper god should.

And as a god- her god as she said- he loved her. It was a love that grew with time and effort rather than that wistful first sight god’s felt for their believers. Yato loved her in every sense of the word. The love of a god to their believers, an eternal existence to a mortal one, a close family member, a friend sharing wonderful things with, a person to call their own and hold. Since meeting Hiyori, Yato could feel a bit of what it was like to be an existence that served humanity properly; as a kind-hearted beacon of light and comfort, filled with nothing but honest love. Of course that was silly. Yato was Yaboku and Yaboku was a god and Hiyori was precious and humans were mortal. The universe didn’t like it when someone stepped over that line when they weren’t supposed to.

Which is why The Yaboku God will have to continue his existence, re-learning how to be content with yearning. Knowing that he will always carry nothing but darkness, a container that will never be full, forever unable to have what those around him were simply blessed with. But you know what? That was alright. Yato was proud to smile with a broken heart if it meant he got to serve all her wishes and be her God of Fortune. If all Yato had to do for Hiyori Iki to be able to live out the full length of her precious life was to bear the weight of all the darkness of the world, then he was more than happy to do so.

[rjhpandapaws]

I Will Always Find You

Prologue: Keeper of Wisdom and Revolution: With You Lies the Power of Change

Translations at the end!

He was the first of them that The Beginning had made. He was he keeper of Wisdom and Revolution. Bringer of knowledge and war. He could change the course of humanity if he so wished. His brothers had come shortly after; Curiosity, Balance, and Loss. The were tasked with protecting humanity and left with a warning not to get to close. “Do not get attached.” The Beginning had warned, “They live short lives, but many times. They will not soothe your loneliness.” Curiosity had been, well, curious. He had always been fascinated by humanity. He wanted a closer look and into interact with them. His closer presence had brought with it the need to chase the unknown to the farthest horizon. Humans began to band together into tribes and make their way out into the world. The age of wonder had begun. Curiosity was the first of them to fall in love. A sturdy human with vibrant blue eyes that held wonder for the world. He ventured out often, and Curiosity would wait for him anticipating his return and tales of his adventures. One day he ventured off and did not return. Curiosity had been devastated. The first of them to learn the fragility of human life and be introduced to the fickle mistress that was death. The reassurance that he would see his love again didn’t come across as the comfort Wisdom had intended it to be. He left that hornets nest alone for the time being and tried to comfort Curiosity as best he could. He didn’t realize he would be the next of them to fall.

The age of wonder had passed and the age of learning was ushered in. It was Wisdom’s turn to leave his mark on the world. To give humans a way to keep the things they had learned from Curiosity, to foster it. That they may thrive on their own while the keeper of their wonder nursed his wounds. Wisdom was the first of them to be worshipped. He was called Jalib Almaerifa. He was not given a form as he had not shown himself, but he was prayed to and believed in. He preferred to give his knowledge through dreams and signs. He loved seeing what humans made of his gifts. He would learn from Curiosity’s mistake and watch from a distance. He would not fall for a human, it was not worth the pain it would cause. He did keep his distance for a time. Made his mark as a kind but distant deity. Though it seemed he would follow Curiosity into the pit of spikes that was love. There was a human that asked for his guidance almost regularly. He called himself Saymun and had the desire to learn everything there was to know. He wanted to learn to make the lives of those around him easier. Wisdom sympathized with that and took his time putting together dreams and signs for Saymun. He didn’t want to risk their meanings being misinterpreted. He wanted to see this human bring change to the world. He believed Saymun capable of great things.

He shortened his distance some. He would visit Saymun in his dreams even when he wasn’t called on. He gave himself a form close to human so that if Saymun came across him in his dreams he would not be frightened. He began to change the world around him, it was slow going and he likely wouldn’t see the fruits of his labor in his lifetime, but things were changing. He translated the knowledge he had been given and did his best to share it with those around him. A voice lost to the crowd. Wisdom wished to see more done. He wanted to see Saymun achieve his goals. So he placed himself among them in a human form. His eyes were the only give away to his divine origins. One blue marking the serenity of knowledge and the other green to signify the growth brought through revolution. He searched for Saymun, and when he found him, he felt something blossom in his chest. Saymun was beautiful, fair wavy hair and sky colored eyes that held gifted knowledge and the hunger to learn more. When he spoke Wisdom found himself pulled further in by the lull of his voice. He had wound up following Curiosity step for step and falling into the same trap. He fell for a human that had accepted his gifts and used them well. He often spoke in Saymun’s dreams so it shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did when the human’s dream from had approached him one night. Gaining knowledge always lead to the seeking of more. This meeting had been a long time coming. Saymun looked at his almost human form with a mix of awe and recognition. He reached out toward Wisdom tentatively.

“You look familiar.” Saymun eventually said, his ever-present curiosity hanging on his every word, “Have we met?” “In a way.” Wisdom said with a polite nod, “Your people have often called me Jalib Almaerifa. Though my name in your language would be Hikma.” He watched Saymun go through the stages of recognition, first of the name he had been given, then to the one he called himself. “Hikma, like the man from the streets. He has eyes like yours. They are very unique.” Wisdom changed his shape once again, taking his human form and gave Saymun a kind smile, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you Saymun. I was planning to introduce myself during your waking hours, but this works just as well.” “You gave me this knowledge. Why would you listen to me speak it?” He asked and tipped his head to emphasize his question. “I have the knowledge yes, but I am not able to use it, I am only able to give it away.” He explained, “Seeing you use what I have given you to better those around you instead of just yourself intrigues me.” “Don’t get your hopes up.” Saymun said flatly as he looked away from Wisdom, “No one listens to me.” “They do. You just can’t see it yet.” He reassured and reached out to give his human companion’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “It is almost time for you to wake. Do not falter in your endeavors. I will be by your side even if you are unable to see me.”

That earned him a smile from Saymun. Wisdom left him to his dream and once more watched from a distance. He was looking forward to the start of the day, to seeing Saymun again. He knew this was a risk, he was getting attached and that would only hurt in the end. Seeing the way Saymun lit up when he had an audience was more than worth it in his eyes. He and Saymun grew closer after that. Wisdom found himself staying confined to his human form for days at a time. It was easier for Saymun to rest this way and Wisdom could be closer to him like this. They drifted closer together and Wisdom found himself tucked in beside Saymun more nights than not. Until he just didn’t leave. Wisdom spent most of his nights running his fingers through Saymun’s hair and telling him the secrets of the world. Knowledge that he normally wouldn’t trust a human with, but Saymun was different. He could be a force of change, he could be the one to bring humans into their next great age. Moreover it was that Wisdom loved him and wanted to show him in as many ways as possible. He had about five amazing years with Simon before things had begun to change. Saymun began to have intense bouts of pain, both physical and otherwise, followed by waves of extreme exhaustion. It got bad enough that he eventually stopped trying to teach, but instead he wrote down the things he had learned that were safe to share. He hoped to create a library of books and share what he had come to learn that way.

Saymun and Wisdom worked on the library together until Saymun’s memory began to fail him. Wisdom did his best to help him as best he could, but he hadn’t dealt with anything like this before. He didn’t know what to do to make it better, to make it easier. To help Saymun be well again. The most he could do was make him comfortable. It didn’t feel like enough, not for all that Saymun had given him. He still held Saymun at night. Even when Saymun’s memory had stolen Wisdom from him. The pleasant happiness that this nightly ritual had once brought was overshadowed by the growing possibility of him losing Saymun while the human slept. They were little more than strangers now in Saymun’s eyes and that had hurt Wisdom in ways he hadn’t known were possible. He still wouldn’t give the years he had gotten with Saymun up for anything. The last night he spent with Saymun went much like many of the others in recent years. There was no air of finality to it. Wisdom hadn’t known this would be the last night he would get to have with Saymun. If had, he wouldn’t have left so much unsaid. He would have looked into those once wise and lively eyes one last time. He would have made sure Saymun knew how much he had been loved. Had he only known, he would have done so much more. Only, he hadn’t known, and all he could do was plead for more time as the man he loved slipped away in silence.

Wisdom blamed himself. Perhaps if he had not shared the secrets held by the universe with Saymun he would have been granted more time. If he had kept his distance as he had intended maybe Saymun would have had a longer life. Had he used his head as he was made to do rather than his heart. If he had loved from a distance. If he had told Saymun he had loved him one more time. There were so many ifs and they haunted him. Left him feeling both enraged and hollow. He pulled away from humanity, left them on their own for some time. They would not use his gifts the way Saymun had. It was only when they had nearly destroyed themselves that he returned. He kept his distance and gave his gifts much more sparingly. Humans lived short lives and lived them many times. He missed Saymun dearly, there would be no replacing him. All Wisdom could do was wait to find him again in another life and time. Perhaps he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

-

Names and translations. Names and Meanings used for Markus Wisdom. Hikma = Wisdom Jalib Almaerifa = Bringer of Knowledge

Names and Meanings used for Simon Saymun = Simon

[selemina]

(Play with your npcs more! Tell me about your favorite npcS IN first casters and what makes you like them so much and what's most fun to play about them? :D)

... Oh my god you should not enable me so much, friend. XD There’s nothing I love more than to rent about universes and characters, be ready for an absolute WALL of text! XD

So first, let’s tackle Damien!

Damien is a street kid : he’s been growing up in the poor district. His parents are an unfortunate couple : abusing mother with a foul temper, spineless soft dad too afraid to defend himself, and a sister that eventually turned maniac and tried to kill their mom. As a result, for most of his life, Damien has been the only one keeping the house standing : standing up to his mother on the rare occasions that she came home, and trying to responsibilize his father despite the fact that he’s terrified of Damien. Because of his history of abuse victim, his father struggles to get close to him, flinching at the slightest raise in voice, and well... Damien is a passionate kid. He also has no problem beating up people he doesn’t like, like a young vigilante, to the point where people in the poor district know him by name... but more as a violent, rabid dog than as a noble crime-fighter. Damien’s fights are usually messy... His only friend is Alexia, that has befriended him one pastry at a time, until he would literally die for her. And then, after the magic started waking up, one day he just.... turned into a tiefling!

Since tieflings are new in this world (and look like devils), of course he couldn’t show himself, so instead they managed to make him a ring enchanted with an Alter Self spell that he can wear at work.

Why I like playing him : ever dreamed of charging a group of thugs from a dark alley and having them actually panick? :D No but more seriously, Damien is just learning to have more friends, and actually be wanted and included after having been alone most of his life. He’s also being teased without fear, and shown endless kindness, and he’s slowly opening up. Seeing him be begrudgingly positive and agressively supportive is a joy! :D He has yet to go absolutely feral but I’d love to see that! ;) Also it’s always fun to be able to play a character that can go from screaming to reluctant silence with just one donut being handed to him. XD

May I talk to you about Lord Peter of the Blackwoods? :3c

Originally from the other world, Mira, Peter is another unfortunate soul. Drafted for a war he had no stake in, he was left for dead on a battlefield. At the time, those bloodbaths were so prolific that vampires in the area were growing complacent and fat, so creating more was a luxury many afforded. He was turned and introduced to the delicately balanced and measured world of the children of the night along with a few others. But then, the war stopped... No more battlefield to scour for food. So his flight headed further inland, looking for more thralls and more food. Unfortunately, in the wake of the war, a terrible plague had found the nearby cities... and with horror, they discovered that it could jump to vampires. Around this time, he guided his weakening flight to a necromancer who promised to help... But soon enough, they realized said necromancer was actually experimenting on them during the day when they were out cold, looking for the secret to their immortality instead of finding a solution against the plague. Peter struck him down, and once again moved with his remaining brothers and sisters, further inland... After the vampire infestation from the war, hunters had multiplicated, and soon his entire flight was recorded and hunted down, vampires scattering in search of safety. Left alone, he holed up in an abandonned mansion deep in the Blackwoods, wanting for nothing more than to be left undisturbed. Taking the occasional suicidal people that came to find him in the hopes of ending their lives, and those looking for immortality, he gathered a small following of thralls to come visit him occasionaly for food, but that he insisted must have a normal life away from him most of the time. Eventually though, the thrall presence in the area alerted the hunters, and they rallied the nearby towns to go walk on the mansion, setting it ablaze, and killing Peter inside. While he should have gone back to his coffin to reform and recover, Peter... drifted, and woke up on Earth instead. Seeing this as an oportunity to start over and reclaim some of his lost humanity, he has made a very strict point to not harm anyone, not make any thralls or any other vampire. He kept Courtney from bleeding out after a robbery gone wrong, and has been found by the group and protected ever since, keeping a low profile.

Why I enjoy playing Peter : Suave motherfucker! A noble trying to stop his tendency to be extra, because he’s not in any vampiric court anymore. Very proper and crafty, he has repressed his power-play tendencies A LOT.. And recently got to stretch a bit and flexe on Dylan, and that was SO satisfying! XD He could demand attention and worship if he felt like it, and force people into serving him, but... First, he wants to change, truly wants to go back to being an equal to humans, and second... Ivan would backhand him and put him back in his place immediately. XD And he’s not ready for the emotional whiplash of being told to sit down by a man shorter than him. ;) Although I hope I can show soon how truly, deeply dangerous Peter can be...

Oh hey, speaking of people that got flexed on, it’s Special Agent Dylan Ross! :D

Dangerous organisations? Underground cults? Mafia? Organized crime? Those are Dylan’s usual scene. Get in, gather information, relay his finds with a precise plan of action, and let his general take care of taking the initiative and getting all of the glory for it. Dylan is the kind of man to light a cigarette while walking away from a building on fire. However... magic? ...Sure, why the fuck not, there are actual videos of a group of kids forcing a walking tree back into a forest, and others of a gigantic wolf and two pups in astreet, from multiple people. Reports of cult activity, too, that turns out to have been... actual animated scarecrows, that kidnapped people? Alright. Sure. ....And now people are growing horns. What the fuck is happening in this place? Put all of that shit on lockdown! Blame it... blame it on Covid-19, the medias won’t mind! (My players groaned at me when they heard about it being used as a plot point, it was great! XD contemporary world, after all!) And now, to investigate. Seems the local police, after a bit of pressure, admitted hiring... kids? Magic users, for things they couldn’t handle on their own. Following the trail, he went after a few of them, not fast enough as they skipped town... But not everybody went, so eventually he managed to get a hold of Alexia, and later Ivan. Expecting a LOT of bullshit and secrets, he found both to be fairly forthcoming with informations? Even helpful? Huh. that’s new in his line of work... A few tests and unethical trials later, he had to recognize he was unprepared for whatever THIS was... For fuck’s sake, the vampire he met put his entire backup team of highly trained soldiers to sleep before talking to him! And then read his entire health situation just from a drop of blood! And now his mind keeps coming back to him, again and again, it’s distracting. There’s also this Archeon guy, his best hope of finding a scientific way to measure magic, scolding him every time he’s a little abrasive. And now the well-behave Alexia revealed that she is linked to a “patron”, the founder of her school, trapped in the school’s statue? Yeah, sure! ....Until the statue animates and points it’s cane straight at his face! ....dylan might actually need help on this one.

Why I like to play Dylan : MY PLAYERS HATE HIM! XD He is a sassy, venomous, unpleasant man, with just enough humanity to keep people from truly doing anything about him. It’s really fun for me, who is usually a nice person, to be able to be unbashedly rude as a tired, sleep-deprived special agent in over his head! XD He is also a perceptive, crafty bastard : he threatened Alexia with an entire firing squad just to see what her immediate response would be, fight or flight! Everything he does is dangerous, and he can tell when people are bullshitting him from a mile away! And he fully knows that he’s a bastard, he owns up to it : someone has to be the bastard and get shit done. Might as well be an efficient bastard, and get on everybody’s nerves! And yet, he can listen to reason. He’s able to cooperate to get to his goal, listen to advices, and take good decisions. He is very fun to play! :D (Also I can hear the groans from my players when he shows up, voluntary or not, and I live for their visceral reactions. XD)

We’ve talked about Oni quite a bit already, but.. yeah, Oni. XD

Originaly from the north of France, his thunder demon ancestry came to him after the magic had started reappearing, showing that the event is not limited to the area around Paris... With his Ancestor pushing him to carve himself a place in the world, he went on to find “the strongest caster” and duel her one on one. Let me tell you, this whole session was incredible... XD It was the first time I was introducing a villain MEANT to be a villain and not to be reasoned with. Buuut, well... He got beat fair and square. XD Then failed to escape. Then was executed, and his body was melted and burried. ...Then later that night, Ivan came around with a diamound and resurrected him, because nobody wanted to actually be murderers. And that’s how Oni realized he had been messing with the wrong crowd : he was here to hurt, when they were here to KILL. Needless to say, that put him in his place, and gave him time to think. With his life dept to Ivan, he can’t really run away and try to rebuild himself ; his family has thrown him out after his fugue, and now he lives at the Standon household as an unofficial adopted son. XD He tries to be useful around the house, but wishes he had more reasons to fight... Why I love to play Oni : A RESURRECTED VILLAIN IN DND IS JUST SO UNEXPECTED! XD How does one cope with that? Oni is still struggling to find his place, but at least now he’s open to the idea of helping to defend the town instead of just running in head first and crushing everything on his path! I enjoy his ancestor’s code of honor : Essentially, BE BIG. Either make this territory yours and be feared and respected, or recognize those that defeated you and serve them with all your might. Sometimes, being the biggest around doesn’t mean killing : if you keep an army from assaulting a town just because you are sitting at it’s gate, it is also a victory! Be a force to be reckoned with, either for yourself if you’re strongest, or for those above you if you are not. Be invaluable, be reliable, be fearsome. Sucess is when men throw down their arms the moment they see you. Oni is trying to reach this level of strength... but he is also the only man alive to have been resurrected, when nobody else has. People more worthy than him could have been brought back, but no, this miracle fell on him. And he’s uncertain how to feel, having had such an impossible gift offered to him, a humbled nobody, of all people. The weight on his shoulders is heavier than one might know.

Oh hey it’s Master Kavoleg! :D

(seen here with his assistant and Earth-discoverer, Salin! :D) High level mage, high level mage, high lev- XD I LOVE Master Kavoleg! He’s a bit of a hermit, but always ready to help, curious, clever, his has very nice maners, he’s prone to throwing spells in the air when he’s frustrated at a bunch of bickering diplomats... His tower/library, the White Tower, is built right over a place of power, and is a hub for a lot of free wizards, students and experts, coming to do quiet research. Although business has been slow lately, it gives him the opportunity to meet the Earthlings and both learn and teach once more. As an influent person of interest, he is well placed to influence Mira’s approach to Earth in a favorable way, and to give advice on how to handle the surge of magic energy in the other world. People talk about him with reverance, and he is an approachable if imposing figure... as long as you’re not wasting his time.

Why I love to play Kavoleg : *slaps tiefling* “This Wizard can fit so many secrets! :D” I am SO excited to have the team discover a few of them, but... in due time. In due time. XD He is a soft, elegant man, with a certain disregard for people’s misplaced pride. He has a note of mischief to him (giving literal translations of places’ names to the Earthlings, underlining how SIMPLE they sound when not in the different languages, like they’re usually presented) that I love playing, and his relationship to Salin and his new assistant Elias is wonderful to play out! He is a tranquil force, powerful and wise but comfortable. He is very... Well, very comfortable for me to play! XD

And there we have it! :D I hope this was complete enough. There’s so much in there! XD

[mrsq8geek]

Advice for an aspiring author hoping to write lgbt muslim characters?

Hi, thanks for your question!  This is quite the rabbit hole, so I can't cover everything, but I did my best.  Some general guidelines and then my own view:

1. Do not write this story unless it is from personal experience or with the direct express written permission from the person it’s based on, and I hesitate with that second one.  Like many other experiences, this story hasn’t been told all that often, so unless you’re one of the above, you don’t have many points of reference and will probably get it wrong and, I suspect, as ‘exotic’.

That said:

2.  Start by examining yourself. One of my favourite resources is @writingwithcolor​, which has many great references for this.  At this point, we're asking questions such as "Why do you not want to represent us?" and "Why do you need to tell this story right now?" among others.  Do check it out.

3.  Please, please don't write an apologetic acceptably assimilated model minority.  I don't know where you're from, or where you intend to set the story, but we're all influenced by American media, so I feel it's important to mention.  We generally don't have positive feelings towards those characters, let alone relating to them, at least not to the aspects where they're supposed to represent us.

(My personal pet peeve example is Abed Nadir from Community, a Muslim enamoured with Christmas and is an all-around Acceptable Arab... played by an Indian actor.  It's extra irking because the show was touted as being Better Than Big Bang Theory, and it seemed okay addressing many other nuances, but when it came to this? Think of it this way: why didn't they cast an Asian actress to play Britta or Annie and called her white? Or, indeed, an Indian actress to play Shirley and called her black? Because clearly they believe the audience can't tell the difference? Arabs are black or white but not brown, guys.  Not all Arabs are Muslims and vice versa.  Some Muslims are (gasp!) white.)

Anyway, the point is Abed, and others like him, are non-threatening.  They reject their own identity and are desperate to be Just Like Us Default White People.  While this is definitely the case for some people, 1. it's not the case for most people, 2. it's just a really tired trope especially in current times, and 3. the other side of this trope’s coin is that in order to be acceptable for The West, they have to rebel against their character’s original identity, which is just as tired.

But I digress.  You already know by asking this question that it’s controversial.  Why not play it straight instead?  Pun unintended.  Do your research, whatever way you choose to go. 

4.  Speaking of doing your research, do. your. research! Muslims are a diverse group of about 2 billion people*.  There are two major sects and many smaller ones.  In the major ones, homosexuality (etc) is a sin, haram, full stop, end of sentence.  Any level of presenting like the opposite gender is not only haram, it’s cursed.  Yes, there are many people coming up with exceptions and loopholes, or just doing what they want regardless, and if you want to write about them, that's your prerogative, but:

* so Kamala Khan, for example, is completely unrelatable to me. (See: 9)

5.  You know what else is considered haram in majority Islam? Extra-marital sex.  Pork.  Alcohol.  Drugs, yes including cannabis, in fact even nutmeg.  People do all that anyway! Especially in non-Muslim-majority countries where the laws don’t make it harder for them, or in poorer Muslim-majority countries where people don’t get educated in religious matters, or indeed all over everywhere because not all people of any religion actively practice that religion.  It's a non-issue by this point. 

5A. The only reason LGBT Muslims is An Issue, and it’s An Issue Now, is because America’s making it one.  It’s no different than, say, modern white feminism.  They stir the pot, we deal with the mess.

5B. Muslims are people, and people aren't perfect. We know this, and we've addressed it as nauseam… and that’s just it, we’re allowed* to talk about these things because we know ourselves and our experiences.  It’s more acceptable coming from us to us because we have a common ground to start discussing things.

* I wrote allowed, but it really depends on the situation. Sometimes you’re not allowed simply because you don’t want to make it an issue, and that’s okay too.

5C. Since you’re asking, I’m assuming you’re not a Muslim yourself, and that puts a layer on scrutiny on you.  We don’t know where to begin to talk to you, and it’s worse if you represent us in any controversial way or in any way less than perfect.  Less than perfect by whose standards? It depends. Nobody knows! (See: 3)

5D. Examine yourself, research the topic, and know just what you’re trying to say.

6.  That said, here’s my personal take on it that I’d love to see someone do, but haven’t so far.  I don’t know how people arrive at their sexuality, whether it’s by nature or nurture, but they do end up there one way or another.  When it comes to Islam, you’re highly encouraged to (heterosexually, to be clear) marry and reproduce.  You’re discouraged from sex outside that framework.  If you are unable to marry for whatever reason, you’re supposed to find a way to deal with it. Fasting is often recommended.

And the way I see it, finding yourself not being attracted to the opposite gender is just one reason to not marry.  “So I NEVER get to have sex?” Yes, just like your straight brothers and sisters who realize they can never marry for their own reasons. Maybe their health prevents them. Maybe they have family depending on them, especially financially, and they realize can’t add a husband or wife into the mix. Maybe they’re incompatible with the person they wanted.  

The West worships Romantic Love (also money, but that’s another thing), but it really isn’t everything in life*.  Just see any post here on tumblr dot com discussing the different kinds of love the Romans acknowledged and wrote about extensively.  Yes, it’s a powerful drive, but again, it’s not the only thing in life, and coming to that realization is its own journey.

* (Something something Harry Potter)

I am so, so sick and tired of characters who don’t practice their religion (“hi, I’m Muslim/Jewish/Christian/Hindu/Buddhist/whatever, but I will have that pork, that beef cheeseburger, whatever”*), and equally tired of characters who are the personification of their religion (“hi, I’m religious, hear me act out my stereotypes”). Don’t get me started on characters who exist just so the authors can bash that religion.  

* a recent disappointing example was the show Crazy Ex Girlfriend.  When Rebecca is first introduced, I was excited to learn the show was about a Jewish character, finally a religious character portrayed as practicing!  But it was quickly revealed they were focusing on the cultural aspects, and not only is she non-practicing, she doesn’t even believe any god exists.  Snore. In contrast, see: Shepherd Book from the show Firefly.  Not just a practicing Christian, an actually interesting character in his own right.  Not a perfect person by far, but someone who’s doing his utmost to live his life and still maintain his faith. 

I want a Muslim character who finds themselves attracted to whomever, someone from the same gender or whatever you want, or feeling like they want to present as not their birth gender, and then proceeds to do what so many of us real-life Muslims do: find ways to deal with it and come to terms with it.  Acknowledge it and make peace with it.  Make the choice, the conscious decision, to remain faithful to their beliefs and maybe not pursue a romantic relationship with the other person… and instead interact with them like a human being they care about.  Help them reach a goal or achieve a dream, keep them safe from harm, something.  Maybe focus on the traits of the other gender that are accessible, or fight the toxic effects of the patriarchy, something.  Writing like “a happy ending == they end up together”, and any and all other outcomes are Bad and Tragic and Void, is boring and unrealistic.

Just as a black woman being soft and feminine is a rebellion against the mainstream, a religious character sticking to their faith above all else is way more interesting than yet another character breaking the rules.

Addendums:

7. “But Islam is homophobic?” No, Islam has rules against intentionally engaging in specific behaviors.  You’re not faulted for having low alcohol tolerance, you’re faulted for the act of consumption. You’re not faulted for being addicted to drugs, you’re faulted for making the decision to try it the first time, or if you were tricked into it, for not trying to get clean once you’re there.  However!  People, all people, hashtag not just Muslims, often try to enforce rules by creating fear and hatred around them.  It’s a convenient societal shorthand, even if the consequences can be different than intended.  It’s the same mechanism that leads to “abstinence = zero sex ed” in the US.  Abstinence isn’t the issue, people trying to enforce it by making information around sex opaque are the ones causing problems.

So some Muslim people end up homophobic, and some Muslim people go all in the other direction, because the balance is delicate and difficult to find.  

8. “LGBT stories aren’t just about sex, what about asexuals, transsexuals, etc?” True, but most LGBT stories tend to go in that direction, and I’m keeping it as broad as I can here.

9. Even if your character is Muslim but not Arab, it’s probably going to come up, in your research if not in your story.  Although the most populous Muslim nation is Indonesia and the most famous “Muslim” terrorists are Afghani, the most prominent Muslim sites are in Saudi Arabia and Palestine.  The branding is there.  With that in mind, required reading is the film Reel Bad Arabs, and any primers you can find on Orientalism, Colonialism, and Imperialism.

***

Honourable mentions:

Check out the Saudi series Masameer by Myrkott on YouTube, many episodes have subtitles. They recently made a movie and it's on Netflix internationally!  You can't escape American Imperialism any more than you can escape British Colonialism*, but we're all way past being enamoured by them.  The Emirati series Freej is also in Youtube, sans subtitles, though the DVDs have them, and I’ll leave it at that.  Hashtag quarantine let us catch up on shows?  Stay safe, stay home.

* she said, in English.

[four-loose-screws]

FE4 Suzuki Novelization Translation - Chapter 1 Part 1

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations 

———————————–

Chapter 1 – High Priest Bragi

Part 1

In the year 447 of the Gran Calendar, the Gran Republic, located in the center of the Jugdral, was overthrown after a reign that lasted over 200 years. The Loptyrian Empire rose to power in its place.

Archbishop Galle, the founder of the Loptyrian Cult, was crowned its first emperor.

In his youth, Galle had ventured across the seas and traveled the world. When he returned to Jugdral, he possessed a mysterious power.

Three years later, a diamond-shaped red mark appeared on his forehead. Its shape was too perfect and its color too vibrant to be a normal birthmark or wrinkle. And even when he washed his face, it did not come off.

He said it was the symbol that proved his body was the host of the god Loptous. He then went on to found the Loptyrian Cult and give himself the title of archbishop. People soon realized just how powerful Loptous was.

Many of the youth were dissatisfied with the republic's ochlocracy, and were drawn to that power, causing the cult to become very large very quickly.

The radical youths plotted to overthrow the republic, wishing to establish a nation ruled by Loptous' ideology.

To achieve that goal, they created a rebel army. Galle chose its twelve most promising members and granted them the ability to wield dark magic. He named them the Twelve Deadlords. They became the core of the army.

Soon after, the Loptyrian Empire was born, and the radicals' dream was realized. However, Loptous was not a god who had come to save humanity. All of the power shifted into Emperor Galle's hands, and it became clear that Loptous' true nature was that of a dark god.

The majority of the common people did not accept those who converted to the Loptyrian Cult, calling them heretics, the most offensive term one could use to refer to a person. When the republic was in power, heretics had been forced to become slaves and treated even worse than livestock.

The following year, the empire swiftly carried out "The Great Purge," killing over 100,000 people. In the Gran Year 452, a large group of children were burned to death as sacrifices to Loptous. This tragedy became known as "The Sorrow of Miletos." And in the next year, tens of thousands of people were killed in the "Massacre of Edda."

The people came to see Loptous as a calamity that only brought fear, death, and destruction. They hated the empire, they hated the Loptyrian Cult, and they hated the emperor. However, the empire and the cult's oppression was so great that no one tried to rebel. The people didn’t think that they could succeed, and even if anyone did entertain the idea, they would be found and captured before they could try.

The first recorded rebellion did not occur until one hundred years after the empire had been established.

The emperor's younger brother, the Holy Knight Maera, preached a new doctrine, and tried to reform the Loptyrian Cult. He claimed that Loptous was not the only god, rather, that he was but one high ranking god among the many that the people of the Gran Republic had worshipped. Maera aimed to balance the harmony between the gods and end discrimination within the empire.

The emperor at that time, Galle III, did not give any response to Maera's teachings. The priests that opposed discrimination noticed this this, and supported the new doctrine, quickly forming a reformist sect. While they’d always had the same ideas as Maera, they only felt that they could speak out after he began preaching.

The reformists and the conservatives debated the relationship between Loptous and the old gods, but did not reach a conclusion.

In the Gran Year 535, a group of imperial soldiers started a riot at a reformist gathering. Maera and the other reformist leaders were arrested on suspicions of plotting a rebellion, and were found guilty in a private trial. Maera hand his family was executed, while the other leaders were put in jail. The remaining members were exiled, and the reformist sect ceased to exist.

But this did not mean that Maera’s teachings were forgotten.

While there were no records left within the empire or the Loptyrian Cult, the exiled priests formed a sect called the “Hidden Maera Sect,” with factions in every area of Jugdral.

There were even members within the priesthood of the Loptyrian Cult. They saved as many children as they possibly could from becoming sacrifices and sent them to the Hidden Maera Sect’s secret village.

Even High Priest Bragi of the Twelve Crusaders was one of the children they saved.

ー

Every few years, the village of Agustria was required to provide sacrifices for the empire. The village leaders would gather together and choose the sacrifices from a lottery that included all children aged five to seven.

The people were told that the children were not sacrifices, rather, that they would serve the gods at the temple in the imperial capital, Belhalla. However, everyone knew the truth. And the village leaders claimed that the lottery was fair, but it was often the children of poor families that were chosen.

When Bragi was six, the village was asked to provide five sacrifices. Bragi was smart and kind, but his family was poor, so he was one of the five chosen.

Bragi and the other children were ushered into a carriage bound for Belhalla.

They rode with the Loptyrian priests' children so that they had someone to talk to and would not be frightened.

Three days after the carriage left the village, they stopped to have dinner at an inn. Afterwards, Bragi suddenly came down with a fever.

A priest gave him some medicine and had him sleep in a different room from the other children.

When morning came, his fever was much lower, but he felt like he was tied up, and couldn't move. A guard came to tell him it was time for breakfast, but instead panicked and called in a priest.

The priest checked his pulse and said, "He has already gone to be with Loptous."

And covered his face with a blanket.

‘No I haven’t! I'm still alive!’ Bragi tried to scream, but nothing came out of his throat.

"My my, what a shame." The soldier said with a sigh. "But he's probably happier this way."

"Children pass away during the trip to the capital all the time. I'll write an explanation of what happened."

"Please do. It'll prove that he didn't run off."

After some time passed, Bragi heard the priest's voice again. "Innkeeper, this boy has already gone to be with Loptous. We must continue our journey, so please bury him for us."

"Understood. I'll give him a proper burial."

'No, I don't want to die!' He tried to say, however, just like before, he had no voice, and couldn't even lift a single finger.

About an hour later, he felt someone lower the blanket. "Poor thing, you must have been so lonely!" It was the innkeeper. She opened his mouth and poured a strange liquid into it.

Once he had swallowed it, he could move again. He shook his hands and feet and said, "I'm alive, ma'am! I'm alive!"

"I know. You won't die. You've been chosen."

"I've been chosen?"

"That priest thought it would be a shame for you to become a sacrifice. So he spared your life. He's no longer here, but be sure to thank him in your heart."

"He saved me?"

"Yes he did, young man. You musn't forget. Your life was spared, so one day, you must spare someone else's." She said before opening a small coffin. "I’m going to perform your funeral soon, so I want you to get inside of that closet and stay quiet. You are not to come out, no matter what. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." Bragi answered.

The innkeeper put a bag about the same size and weight of a six-year-old child in the coffin and lifted it.

Bragi didn't make even a single peep while inside of the closet. When funeral was over and the innkeeper came back to open the door, he was still in the same position he had been in when had she left.

"Good boy! No wonder you were chosen. It's all over now. You've already died and been buried in the ground once, so you will never die again."

[khr-inheritance-project]

Chapter Excerpt

A/N - So I’ve had most of this chapter written for a long while now, just never got round to finishing it... So here’s a long belated preview (of sorts) of the next chapter of “Prelude to Inheritance”. This one being from Yoshitaka’s POV (and hopefully gives some insight into his character...)

....................................................

Sawada Yoshitaka had no desire to stand out. He did not want to be particularly fantastic at anything, or to suck spectacularly in any way either. To be perfectly average, just another face in the crowd, completely comfortably anonymous, that was his goal.

In summary: normal.

Just. Plain. Normal.

Is that really so much to ask? How is it that so many other people manage it, but not him? He tries so hard and yet always seems to either undershoot or overshoot, never hitting the mark. It’s not fair.

Taka is sick of standing out.

That’s why he’s so grateful for Tou-chan’s sudden decision to move them to Japan. This is the perfect opportunity to start fresh. No one would know him here. Better yet, no one would know his family here. He can be anyone he wants to be, and Taka wants to be a complete nobody.

It was almost perfect. Almost, if not for one thing...

He looked over to where his brother was trying to convince their aunt to let him take his creepy cat to school. (Not that he was putting up much of an argument.)

This was a disaster waiting to happen.

It’s not like he hates his brother or anything! It’s just that he’s so, so... weird. No matter where they were or who they were with, Giulio always stood apart from the crowd. He never fit in anywhere, and always drew attention to himself (and to Taka by association) in the worst ways.

If the world was a puzzle, Giulio was that odd left over piece that belonged to a different puzzle but had somehow got mixed up by mistake. Problem was you couldn’t find the original puzzle his piece belonged to, so it just gets left behind or thrown away. And Taka was always the one left to pick the pieces in the end...

It really wasn’t all that fair considering he was technically the younger twin here. Not that being younger or older by a few minutes added up to much in the grant scheme of things, but still!

Taka couldn’t stop the sigh of relief as they left finally the house, and the cat, behind.

He doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. He knows there is something wrong with that animal! It’s in the way it looks at you, like it can see into your very soul, and is deciding whether to devour it now or save it for later. The fact its eyes don’t match makes the whole effect worse. For all they know, it’s probably an alien in disguise or something!

Where did Tou-chan even find that thing, and how could he possibly have thought it'd make a good pet!?

He smoothed down the front of his uniform and tried not to think about the miniature monster waiting for them when they get home.

Taka likes uniforms. Liked that it meant everyone matched. Liked that even the definition of “uniform” was: to remain the same at all times. You cannot be judged based on what you wear if you are all wearing the same thing.

Unless you’re the kind of person who somehow manages to fall flat on your face every five minutes, effectively ruining your brand new clothes... Taka was not that kind of person. Three guesses who was...

He tried to swallow back that flicker of dread as he caught the sight of Giulio colliding with an electric pole in the corner of his vision. He kept expecting to hear that sickening crunch of bones breaking, but it never came. No matter how much he told himself it was silly, he couldn’t stop himself from envisioning the worst.

Not since that time he witnessed his brother fall out of a tree and practically shattered everything on his left side.

It had always been like that. Giulio would be doing something perfectly ordinary, like running down the hall, next thing you knew he was on the ground with a broken arm or leg or whatever. He even broke his wrist just by throwing a ball too hard once.

Tou-chan tried to explain it to him once; his brother had a condition that meant his bones were super fragile compared to other kids. Or something like that... It’s why he stayed home with private tutors, where it was easier to keep an eye on him, instead of going to school with Taka.

He had broken a bone once. His femur. Afterwards, Uncle Gokudera told him that breaking the femur was one of the worst pains a human being could endure. Taka believes him; at the time, he genuinely thought he was going to die. The next few months after were not fun either.

Giulio had broken pretty much every bone in his body, some more than once, in several different places too! It took a lot of force to break his femur. With Giulio, it hardly took anything.

Taka will never forget the sound it made as the bone snapped under pressure, the way it felt, that moment of quiet before his brain registered the pain. And that was just one bone. Really, it’s no wonder Giulio was such a weirdo. After breaking so many bones, the pain must have fried his brain...

But one thing he had learned from the experience was that broken bones will heal back twice as strong. By now Giulio probably had a skeleton as strong as iron. Just like Wolverine.

The X-men were either worshiped as heroes, or treated like freaks. Always standing out, no matter what...

His brother nearly stacked it again, and Taka’s heart leapt to his throat, but this time he managed to stay on his feet. Honestly, it was much better before when they lived in a house so huge that he didn’t see his brother for days on end. Now they lived together in tighter space and he was forced to watch every fall, every near miss.

One day, Giulio is going to fall down and break his neck, or split his skull open.

Taka prays to every deity above that he is not there to witness it. He doesn’t think he could handle that kind of mental trauma...

[killthebxy]

          this verse is based on the idea that Jon was brought back from the dead by the Night King, rather than Melisandre, and it was inspired by this fanart: CLICK. it is a mix of book and show canon, with some points of divergence from both. as it is my only verse where i explicitly write Jon as a villain/antagonist, a disclaimer is in order before anything else:

while not present in this background, the threads and plots within this verse may contain references or explicit mentions of topics such as violence and cruelty, murder and genocide, humiliation and degradation, manipulation and abuse --- among others of similar nature;

i am not my muse, which is unfortunate because i would love to be Jon Snow; out of jokes, though, mun =/= muse and i am the first one clearly stating that i do not condone and will try my best to never romanticize any of the topics mentioned above. this verse exists for creative writing purposes only, as it allows me to explore ideas and scenarios that i could never do in any of my other verses --- considering that Jon is inherently a good and kind character.

          with this taken care of, let us get started. in this verse, the mutiny still happened but it took place beyond the Wall rather than at Castle Black --- more precisely, at the weirwood grove where the brothers who keep the old gods say their vows. as all attention was captured by the mutiny unfolding, they failed to notice the approaching of wights and the Others, which non-surprisingly did not end well for them. only one of the mutineers managed to escaped among the chaos that ensued, climbing on a horse to return to the Watch with the news. while everyone else was immediately turned into wights, Jon’s corpse was brought back to the Night King --- who, recognizing him from the events at Hardhome (this point will always follow show canon, even in book-based threads, as it is relevant for this verse’s background that the NK is aware that Jon has the power to destroy Others with his sword), decided he would be of more use if he retained his awareness, rather than becoming a mindless wandering corpse. therefore, the NK himself turned Jon into an Other named Snow --- symbolism of the cold and eternal winter, but as well of the stigma of being bastard-born, which is Snow’s ultimate drive for action and the grudge he constantly upholds (as will be explored in the next paragraphs).

          appearance wise, Snow looks like Jon but with the typical Other traits: deathly pale skin, hair mostly changed to grey and white, piercing blue eyes, cold black hands. while not visible, he retains the scars resulting from the stab wounds during the mutiny. his usual attire consists of armor also similar to what the Others carry, but his is entirely black --- and he continues wearing his lord commander cloak, as symbol of the role that brought him to his current state of existence. personality wise, and as a quick sum-up, Snow is everything that Jon was not: he’s cunning and deceitful where Jon was honest and honorable, heartless where Jon was merciful, ambitious where Jon was humble, selfish and egotistical where Jon was selfless. whereas he is aware of his origins and retains all of his memories as a human, Snow refers to Jon as “the boy” and as though they are two entirely separate entities; and, whereas he often refers to Jon as stupid and naive and gullible, he’s fiercely protective of Jon’s memory and his main goal is, exactly, to bring revenge upon every single person who once wronged Jon and caused him to suffer one way or the other. the main object of his hatred is, non-surprisingly, the Night’s Watch.

          Ghost was also caught up in the mutiny and, after being reborn, Snow himself brought him back as an undead direwolf whom he named Life --- a word play on his previous name and his current nature, but also symbolism for the very thing Snow wishes to eradicate from this world. Life looks similar to Ghost in everything, except he’s got blue eyes, and he’s as loyal to Snow as Ghost was to Jon. further along this verse, and after that one mutineer brought the news to Castle Black, they sent ravens both to the Iron Throne and to Daenerys --- seeing as how a lord commander turned to the armies of the dead isn’t as simple to ignore anymore, given his knowledge about the Night’s Watch and the Wall and, thus, the capacity to strike in all the right spots to bring them over to the realm. realizing this, an expedition was organized like in the show’s s07 (but far better organized lbr), and Danerys herself brought her dragons beyond the Wall to either somehow retrieve “Jon” or be rid of him for good. in this verse, it was Snow who tossed the ice lance that resulted in Viserion’s death and, as reward for his actions, the NK also allowed him to be the one to bring the dragon back to life. Snow named him Noiresiv --- it’s Viserion spelled backwards, as symbolism for his turning from fire to ice. based on the events that i’ll describe next, Snow eventually becomes the undead dragon’s rider and the one to have him bring down the Wall. all of the facts concerning Viserion/Noiresiv are also part of @qeldliie‘s own verse and headcanons.

          as i mentioned above, Snow is extremely ambitious and power-hungry and, from the moment of his revival, he was not satisfied with simply acting under the NK’s orders --- he actually wanted that role for himself, and to become the supreme ruler of every living and undead being in Westeros (and eventually beyond). therefore, while overtly acting dutiful and obedient, Snow conspired at every step to overthrow the NK and eventually succeeded --- this event may be susceptible to changes according to threads and plots, but the default will follow ideas i have discussed with @cerbinwen. with this goal accomplished and the Wall destroyed, all that’s left is to bring the Long Night to the realms of men. based on what what i just mentioned, plus everything else above, it’s easy to see that Snow is thoroughly narcissistic and demands unconditional and unfailing worship --- to the point of referring to himself as God. he considers humans as infinitely inferior beings and has no love nor mercy to offer to them, though he may be open to keeping a few of them around --- either for recognizing some usefulness to them, or simply for his own amusement and sadism.

          Snow is as skilled with a sword in hand as Jon was, but he’s ruthless in combat and, therefore, very difficult to overcome. on the other hand, he’s considerably less agile than Jon, considering the weight of his armor and also his weapon of choice. because, obviously, an Other cannot wield Valyrian steel without risking to accidentally destroy himself at each move, Snow has discarded Longclaw and instead kept an ancient weapon he unearthed at Hardhome. i headcanon that it is similar to Pyramid Head’s Great Knife (CLICK) --- a huge, heavy, rusty sword that grates and shreds rather than actually slicing. its size makes it sluggish and relatively easy to dodge for somebody who’s fast --- though, if the blow is not stopped right at the start, then it becomes impossible to parry or block against. because the thing is huge and Snow isn’t exactly tall (as Jon wasn’t), he’s got the habit of simply dragging it after himself; which he does very casually and like it’s the most natural thing, often provoking that characteristic, nerve-wrecking noise as the blade grates over the ground. Snow is impervious to wounds made by any sort of common weapon, no matter how sharp or powerful, which also explains his choice of sword and how reckless he is in combat. as with all the Others, his only weaknesses are fire, Valyrian steel/dragonsteel, and dragonglass/obsidian. Snow is effectively a dead being, having no blood circulation and no beating heart. whereas it is unnecessary to him, he usually continues breathing out of habit. and, due to the death of his human nature, he’s incapable of feeling positive emotions for the most part --- he completely ignores the meaning of empathy or mercy, and the joy he feels is solely derived of twisted motives and actions. as a final curiosity, he’s actually thoroughly confused and/or entranced by anything that is innocent and chaste, such as a child’s toy for example --- as he has lost the capacity to understand anything of that nature, or its use and usefulness.

          ONE IMPORTANT FINAL NOTE: please be aware that Snow is a terrible, wretched creature in every aspect and he’s not to be approached lightly and much less disrespectfully. unless your muse is of similar power (e.g., a deity, a supernatural being), if you get to him with a cocky attitude, you will get stabbed right through the throat and that thread will be over as soon as it starts. as well, don’t expect to be able to “change him back” or make him “good” again --- it’s not going to happen. the only person who is able to make Snow feel a semblance of human emotions is Arya, considering she’s the only one who was ever unconditionally on Jon’s side. Snow actually is afraid of/very uncomfortable around Arya, and avoids her presence as much as he can --- because she’s the living memory that he once had a heart. towards persons like Ned or Robb, Snow is indifferent for the most part but also a bit ambiguous --- because, while they were dear to Jon, they didn’t actively go out of their way to stand up for him like Arya did. towards anyone who ever wronged Jon in any way (like Sansa or Catelyn), Snow will be downright hostile at the very least. Snow is inherently cruel, manipulative, vengeful, heartless --- and i will not tame him nor tone him down. so, if you ever want to plot/write anything in this verse, please always keep his nature in mind.

[fear-god-shun-evil]

I Live Even Happier Than the Rich

Editor’s note: By saying that the poor can be happier than the wealthy, I do not mean that I am resentful to the rich, and it’s just my understanding from the following experiences of Chen Yan, the author of this article. Everyone has reasons to struggle for their living throughout their life. To put it another way, these reasons are, as we often have talked about, life goals or lofty ambitions. Among them, the most common ideal is to become rich. So, how much time and energy do we need to invest in achieving this goal? Is a person who becomes rich really happy? Next, Chen Yan will use her personal experiences to tell you.

Selling socks was a method for me to become rich.

I was proud and arrogant and from an early age and I was determined to strive hard to make money to live a better life than others. As the saying goes: “If one wishes to succeed, one has to take great risks.” After getting married, in order to earn money, I borrowed over 100,000 yuan from my relatives to buy machines to produce socks. From then on, I started a business selling socks. I devoted all of my mind and body to my career being full of great aspiration. Every day, I got up early and went to bed late, working overtime whenever I could. Even though I was so tired that I had a sore back, I was unwilling to take a rest. Seven months later, unexpectedly, my husband and I made more than 100,000 yuan, which made me very jubilant. Therefore, I decided to expand the factory to make more money, and eventually I increased the amount of machines from 10 to 40. Subsequently, the stress kept mounting. For example, in order to sell socks, I had to invite clients out for meals; otherwise, my business would quickly be stolen, or I would have to lower the price. So, I worried about how to sell socks every day.

Once, one of my customers needed 500,000 pairs of socks. After I signed a contract with him, in order to ensure the quality and quantity of products, I supervised the work in the workshop day and night. Who would have thought that after I delivered the goods, the customer actually said the socks had quality problems. As a result, three months of human and financial resources were wasted, which caused me to lose over 100,000 yuan. This loss hit me hard; I wanted to cry but no tears came. No matter where I went, I always sighed and groaned, feeling deeply pained in my heart. Seeing that I lived such a tiring life, my younger brother led brothers and sisters to preach God’s work in the last days to me. I knew it was good to believe in God and I had several meetings, but because there was much more work for me to do in the factory, I didn’t take faith in God to heart.

Afterward, the government reorganized factories on a large scale and my factory was forced to close down. After that, through the introduction of a big client who came from Northeast China, my husband and I went there to do business. After arriving there, we were total strangers, and on top of that, the temperature was forty degrees below zero, so it was so hard for us to endure this. But, in order to make money, I clenched my teeth and persevered no matter how painful or exhausting it was. After the factory opened, I watched after two machines by myself and put in sixteen hours’ work a day to save money. Being heavily overloaded with work, five months later, I became only skin and bones. However, when seeing the money I had earned, I felt that all of my efforts were worthwhile. But a good situation didn’t last forever. Originally, this client promised us that he would settle the account each month, but later, he unexpectedly welshed on us and refused to give us the money. My husband and I did the math and discovered that only electricity bill was over 20,000 yuan a month. Therefore, my husband removed a portion of the goods from the factory. After finding out, the client actually said that he set up the factory and hired us to manage it. Not only did he refuse to give us the months of processing fees, but also he seized our machines. Afterward, although through investigation it was confirmed that those machines belonged to us, the money that we had invested was thrown away. Finally, we were compelled to come back to our hometown.

The dream of earning money made me get further and further from God.

After returning home, I, dazzled by money, still refused to give up. I always thought: “Could it be that my hard work all these years has been in vain? The huge debts need to be paid off. If I try again, maybe I’ll have money.” As a result, I started to raise money and busy myself setting up a factory again. After the brothers and sisters in my hometown heard I had come back, they came to see me and communicate God’s will with me. They invited me to attend meetings and read God’s words, but I always looked for excuses to refuse them. After a number of setbacks, my factory finally opened. Who would have known that the socks which I spent several months producing couldn’t be sold. In the end, I lost almost 300,000 yuan.

This failure was a heavy blow for my husband and me. My husband suffered from depression, while I, due to the excessive work for a long time, was unable to straighten my waist, and could only drag myself to trudge forward; besides, I got uterine fibroid. On top of that, my relatives and neighbors all came to my house collecting their debts. All this made me feel my life was meaningless and want to die to end this painful torment.

Failures made me examine anew the path of life.

Just when I could not see a shred of hope for my life, my brothers and sisters read a passage of God’s words to me: “‘Money makes the world go round’ is the philosophy of Satan and it prevails among the whole of mankind, among every human society. You could say that it is a trend because it has been imparted to everyone and is now affixed in their heart. People went from not accepting this saying to growing used to it so that when they came into contact with real life, they gradually gave tacit approval to it, acknowledged its existence and finally, they gave it their own seal of approval. Isn’t this process that of Satan corrupting man? Perhaps people do not understand this saying to the same degree, but everyone has different degrees of interpretation and acknowledgment of this saying based on things that have happened around them and their own personal experiences, right? Regardless of how much experience someone has with this saying, what’s the negative effect that it can have on someone’s heart? (People would esteem money.) Something is revealed through the human disposition of the people in this world, including each and every one of you. How is this interpreted? It’s the worship of money. Is it hard to get this out of someone’s heart? It is very hard! It seems that Satan’s corruption of man is thorough indeed!” God’s words laid bare the source of my pain. I lived by Satan’s poisons, such as “Money makes the mare go,” “Money isn’t everything, but without it, you can do nothing,” and “Whoever gives me money is my father; and whoever feeds me is my mother.” Because of this, I wanted to make more money in order to lead an aristocratic lifestyle. Recalling these years, in order to earn money, I worked hard, and even though I was so exhausted that I had a sore back, I would still be completely willing. No matter when my factory went out of business or when I was deceived by my client and lost money in Northeast China, I did not awaken from my failures, but stubbornly wished to use my own effort to earn more money and live a life where people would look highly upon and admire me. In the first few years, I indeed made some money, but who could know my heartbreak and suffering behind it? Now, from God’s words I saw clearly it turned out that the reason why I was in so much pain was because I accepted those erroneous views Satan had instilled in me and thus deeply got sucked into the vortex of making money with no way of extricating myself. As a consequence, I not only was exhausted physically and mentally and disease-ridden, but I wasn’t inclined to worship God, and thus grew further and further apart from Him and was completely carried off by Satan eventually. When I returned home and wanted to make a comeback, God still used my brothers and sister to try to persuade me with sincerity many times and communicate His will to help me. However, I was too stubborn to listen to what they said and persisted in opening a factory to make money. In the end, I fell ruined and suffered extreme pain physically and mentally. This was the outcome of my holding wrong views on pursuit and taking the wrong path.

I also read in the word of God: “The sadness of man is not that man seeks happy life, not that he pursues fame and fortune or struggles against his own fate through the fog, but that after he has seen the Creator’s existence, after he has learned the fact that the Creator has sovereignty over human fate, he still cannot mend his ways, cannot pull his feet out of the mire, but hardens his heart and persists in his errors. He would rather keep thrashing in the mud, vying obstinately against the Creator’s sovereignty, resisting it until the bitter end, without the slightest shred of contrition, and only when he lies broken and bleeding does he at last decide to give up and turn back. This is true human sorrow.” “After you recognize this, your task is to lay aside your old view of life, stay far from various traps, let God take charge of your life and make arrangements for you, try only to submit to God’s orchestrations and guidance, to have no choice, and to become a person who worships God.” The revelation in God’s words made me feel remorse. Weren’t these words exactly a true portrayal of me? Before I believed in God, I desperately wanted to earn money to change my fate. After believing in God, although I had known the fact that God rules the fate of us humans, I still did my utmost to fight against my destiny according to Satan’s poisons in order to make money and live a better life than others. As a result, I didn’t have meetings regularly and became far away from God. Finally, I brought myself endless heartbreak and suffering and was tormented to the point of exhaustion. Now, I truly experienced that man’s future and destinies really are controlled and predestined by God and that I couldn’t change my fate at all by relying on myself. So, I was unwilling to struggle by myself, unwilling to hurt God’s heart, rebel against or shun Him; on the contrary, I was willing to read more of His words, attend meetings, fellowship about His words with brothers and sisters, living in the light of Him. Besides, I was also willing to leave my life, work and future under the control of God, submit to God’s orchestration and arrangement, and become a person who truly worships God. When I thought like this, I felt particularly at ease and my mood improved a lot.

I made such a choice when facing the temptation of money.

One day, my aunt, who was in another part of the country where she did business, came back and said to me with a drawl: “It is a money-centered society now. You are still young and have the opportunity to make a comeback. Selling socks is easier this year than last year. You have many years of experience in business, so you should go back to your old work. After one year, your debts will be repaid soon. Relying on working for others, you won’t be able to turn your life around forever. Listen to me, go back to your old work.” What she said struck me right where it hurt and I was tempted. I thought: “Yes, if I can open a factory again and make a comeback, won’t I be able to live a good life? Not only will I clear my debts, but I will also be able to hold my head high. It won’t be like now—no matter who I meet, I feel I’m inferior.”

At that time, seeing that it was as if I had absorbed my aunt’s words, my mother hemmed. I suddenly realized that if I did what my aunt had said, wouldn’t I simply return to the painful life I had led in the past? Then, I immediately called out to God in my heart and asked Him to keep my heart, so that I could make a choice in accordance with His will. After praying, I thought of God’s words: “Don’t many people see getting money as being worth any cost? Don’t many people sacrifice their dignity and integrity in the pursuit of more money? Don’t many more people lose the opportunity to perform their duty and follow God for the sake of money? Isn’t this a loss for people? … Isn’t this the philosophy and corrupt disposition of Satan taking root in your heart? If you do this, hasn’t Satan achieved its goal? … Satan corrupts man at all times and at all places. Satan makes it impossible for man to defend against this corruption and makes man helpless to it. Satan makes you accept its thoughts, its viewpoints and the evil things that come from it in situations where you are unwitting and when you have no recognition of what’s happening to you. People fully accept these things and take no exception to them. They cherish and hold these things like a treasure, they let these things manipulate them and toy with them, and this is how Satan’s corruption of man becomes deeper and deeper.” Through enlightenment from God’s words, I understood God’s intentions and saw through Satan’s tricks. I waved after hearing my aunt’s words today—this was because I didn’t truly discern and despise Satan’s rules for survival. I was deeply poisoned by its life philosophies that were as follows: “Money makes the mare go” and “Money isn’t everything, but without it, you can do nothing.” They had already become a part of my life, making me a slave to money. Satan used this to make me abandon the true way, betray God and thus completely lose the opportunity to be saved by God. I thought of the past when I lived by these thoughts. They brought me nothing but heartbreak and suffering, and made me grow further and further away from God. I gave thanks for God’s protection that allowed me to see through Satan’s tricks. Then I told myself inwardly: “I can’t take my old path. This time, I will stand on the side of God. My future life can’t be planned by me; no matter whether I will be poor or rich in the future, it is in God’s hands. I am willing to obey God’s control and arrangements.” Therefore, I said to my aunt: “Fate is determined by Heaven. During our lifetime, whether we humans are poor or rich can’t be controlled by us. Let nature take its course in all things.” When she heard me say this, she looked at me, shook her head, and said nothing more.

A correct decision brought me a blessed life.

Afterward, my husband went out to work and paid off a part of our debts. Following that, there wasn’t a lot of pressure in my life. As I looked after my child at home, I attended meetings, sang hymns and praised God with my brothers and sisters, and moreover, I performed my duties in the church. I felt very grounded and happy. Also, thanks to God’s blessing, my health improved dramatically: I gained my weight back and the uterine fibroid was miraculously treated.

After experiencing this, I am more confident in God’s work of saving mankind and have a much better understanding of His love. In retrospect, when I failed and lived in pain in the process of pursuing money according to Satan’s philosophies, God used His words to enlighten me to make me walk out of misery and live a carefree and happy life. I am deeply aware that all of this was God’s grace and blessing for me. Now, although I’m not rich or live a life admired by others, I fortunately have believed in God in the last days and gained His salvation, living, at ease and meaningfully. I’m even happier than the rich. I am thankful to God for saving me. All the glory be to God!

[imagine-loki]

Unofferable

TITLE: Unofferable

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 8, Duty and Worth AUTHOR: unofferable-fic ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Frigga bringing you to Asgard as a child after finding you abandoned and injured on Midgard. Uncertain as to what happened to you, Odin allows the healers save your life, and the Allmother makes it her duty to ensure your safety. 

RATING: M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Violence, language, fluff. Playlist: “Santa Monica Dream” — Angus & Julia Stone, “Pools” — Glass Animals

The princes’ visit to Alfheim ended up lasting for far longer than they had both hoped for. By the time Odin saw them fit to return, almost a year had passed by. They had missed many an occasion in Asgard as well as Ellie’s tenth nameday — something that Loki knew she wouldn’t be impressed about. Odin had lengthened their stay when Thor had created a ruckus in a local village by getting exceptionally inebriated and accepting a challenge from a surprisingly aggressive group of travellers. 

“Thor, there is really no need for you to accept,” Loki had explained, trying to convince him to just let it go as the crowd from the tavern began to gather around them. They cheered loudly, slamming tankards down on tables in delight. Though more reserved than the Aesir, it seemed that the Light Elves were feeding off the buzz created by the lumbering travellers who had initiated the fight in the first place.

‘Come out’, Thor said! Loki thought to himself. ‘We can go and find ourselves some voluptuous maidens for tonight’! All I wanted was a decent fuck and now Thor has to prove just how powerful he is to some other imbecile out to do the same thing.

“Nah ah, Loki,” he drawled, pulling up the sleeves of his undershirt and pausing to hiccup. “This man wants a fight and a fight he shall have!”

“Thor—”

“Get a load of this, fellas!” Thor’s challenger, a burly brute who also hailed from Asgard, declared to his friends. “I am about to beat the God of Thunder at hand-to-hand!”

Thor bellowed in amusement at the comment. “You’re quite cocky for someone who has not felt the force of a strike in the jaw from said god!”

While Loki was also on the verge of being drunk, he was very close to sending the men away with some particularly chosen words that both stroked their ego and subdued his brother in his drunken mess, but it was a sudden lunging punch at Thor from one of the challenger’s friends that caused all the violence to erupt.

“Oh, bugger,” Loki sighed and watched as Thor tossed a body off of his and across the tavern. Chairs flew along with people, drinks splashed everywhere, people yelled and roared as fists met stomachs and boots met teeth. Loki managed to dodge most of the blows thrown his way, bar one that left him with a black eye he covered up with glamour.

“Thor!” he screamed as he reached his older brother. “We need to get out of here!”

“But the fun has only started!” was the delighted reply as Thor threw a man out of one of the windows. The glass smashed everywhere and before Loki could even reach his sibling, he had another man grasped in his huge hands. Even in his intoxicated state, he was still tossing punches left, right, and centre, and effectually subduing his attackers.

“We have to get back to the castle!” Loki insisted and grabbed Thor’s shoulder while the fight waged around them, bodies slamming together like a churning, sweaty sea. “Now!”

“They started it!” Thor scoffed and swung a table into a man charging him. “Who’s up next?”

Loki had had enough and shoved with all his might and with the assistance of seiðr. “Out! Now!”

Once outside in the formerly peaceful night, the battle refrained from spilling out with them. They were lucky that the drunken brawlers were in fact too drunk to notice the reason for their aggression had left. The cool and fresh night air was a welcome change to the sticky and hot feeling of inside the tavern. That and it was always nice not having to dodge numerous punches towards you.

“When Father hears about this,” Loki grumbled as they mounted their horses and began their escape. “He is going to wring our necks.”

“You worry too much, Loki,” Thor slurred with a dismissive wave of the hand while he struggled into his saddle. “We will be fine, you’ll see.”

Loki rolled his eyes and pushed some soaking hair from his face. “I should have gotten a bloody goat to distract them.”

“Oh, yes, brother!” Thor agreed and began to laugh uncontrollably. “The revellers do love it when you tug with the goat!”

Despite the rough night they had, the brothers looked at each other before sharing a laugh on the road back to the castle.

Thor’s confidence ended up being for nothing. While the berating Odin gave them was mild upon hearing about their antics, they were forbidden from returning to Asgard for another five months. Frigga sent a letter from home every now and then, asking for how they faired and telling them of whatever happenings occurred in their absence. Because of their galavanting about in what was formally a peaceful tavern, Frey ordered them to remain within the castle walls for the remainder of their stay, mostly due to Odin’s insistence, so the siblings were forced to obey. The five extra months they had to suffer through ended up being surprisingly quiet. It was hard to create a ruckus when they were confined to the palace. That and the endless mentoring and political meetings they had to attend left them drained.

If Odin’s goal as to leave them regretting their ‘unseemly’ behaviour, he had succeeded.

Loki usually relished in time away from Asgard to explore other realms, but he was genuinely happy to be home when their time was up. The embrace that his mother gave him was a comfort that he had surely missed.

Ellie was more than merry upon their return. She even let Thor pick her up and embrace her when she first saw him again. But Loki was not left out when they reunited — a firm hug around his waist was a surprise, but he didn’t push her away.

“You missed my tenth birthday,” she said dryly as they separated. 

Loki rolled his eyes.“Namedays have less meaning to those who have roughly five thousand of them in their lifetime.”

Her eyes went wide. “You guys are so old!”

“I am only just passed my thousandth year, little one, so I am not that ancient yet.”

“But you’re a lot older than me. That makes you old.”

“It would seem that your logic is quite flawed.”

Ellie crossed her arms over her chest and gave him her best pout. “You’re just annoyed because I’m not scared of you!”

He shrugged dismissively. “I never claimed that I wanted you to be frightened of me. That you should recognise me as your God and that you are beneath me, maybe, but frightening you was not part of my intention.”

She let out a little laugh and grinned up at him since he first arrived. “You’re funny, Loki! I missed your jokes.”

“I did not make any jokes!” 

No one had said that he was amusing before. It was not a common word people used to describe him, but if saying saucy remarks resulted in her laughter, he wouldn’t mind saying them more often. It was far better to see her laughing than cowering from him.

* * *

A few days later, Loki was strolling idly through the gardens of Asgard with Frigga. They had been in the yard together going through their combat training as usual. While she had taught him how to effectively wield daggers and to win a battle through tactical assault many years ago, she still insisted on refreshing his skills once a week. Two handmaidens followed them at a distance, bringing them cups of water or some fruit when asked.

“What is your opinion on Midgardians, Mother?” he asked her after a brief silence.

“Why do you ask?” was her curious reply.

“I have been thinking on what Father said about them during the banquet when he informed Thor and I that we would be sent to Alfheim. He said that they were of no importance, that their lives end so quickly they are a waste of our time as gods. Do you agree?”

As Frigga contemplated her answer, their footfalls began to sync up, their feet landing in step on the stone path below. “Not entirely, no.”

“No?”

“I do not agree that their mortality makes them unworthy of our time. Yes, we are gods and they are mortals with much shorter lives who, in some cases, worship us as being above them, but I would say that their mortality has an entirely different meaning.”

Loki furrowed his brow and turned his gaze on her pensive expression. “And what would you say it means?”

“Your father believes that a human’s mortality makes them unworthy, whereas I feel that their mortality makes their life precious.”

“Precious?” he scoffed. “Mother, I would agree that Father was harsh in what he said, but you cannot honestly tell me that you believe them to be cherished? Surely they are there to worship us and go about their human lives, while we prolong their existence by keeping peace within Yggdrasil?”

Frigga gently rubbed the arm that he had linked around her own. “My son, look at it this way for a moment. Their lives are short — far shorter than our own. That means that they have a lot to do is such a short amount of time. It also means that we will outlive them. Take little Ellie for example. She has now spent half of her own life here on Asgard with us. She looks up to you, likes playing with you and Thor, likes to read her stories and listen to her Midgardian musicians, but you will see her pass from this world before you do. It is an exceptionally harsh reality when you have bonded with a human, but their mortality will inevitably cause you pain. Yes, your position as royalty means that you are above her in status, but her human life does not make her unworthy of your time. If anything, it makes your time with her more precious. Do you understand?”

He paused and mulled it over. It made logical sense — the less time you had with someone, the more it should be cherished, but he knew his father was firm in his stance. As far as Odin was concerned, mortals were beneath the gods and that was that.

“I can understand your logic,” he eventually said, slowing as they walked around a well-decorated fountain. “After all, she is exceedingly less annoying that I thought she would be.”

“And she also seems to have taken after you in some regard,” Frigga laughed gently, giving his arm a little tug. “I have never seen Thor’s hair so well decorated with flowers before.”

“She may be mortal,” Loki murmured with an air of approval. “But I must admit she has a knack for little tricks.”

“It does not surprise me after all the time she has spent in your company.”

“The less she spends in Thor’s, the better.”

That earned him a mild scold, even if Frigga did recognised his playful tone. 

* * *

Loki was in the library late one night when he had unexpected company. The large doors opened with a slight creak, and he looked up from his book to see Ellie potter in.

“It’s a little late for you to be wandering these halls, don’t you think?” he said loudly, causing the little one to jump.

“Loki!” she exclaimed before letting out a sigh and visibly relaxing. “I didn’t know it was you. I thought I was caught for a sec.”

Upon questioning her further, she revealed that she had forgotten to get one of her new Harry Potter books from the library earlier and managed to sneak from her shared quarters to come and get it. He remained in his chair, brushing over some seiðr notes his mother had given him as the girl went to fetch said book. Three years after his return from Alfheim, Ellie had reached the age of thirteen. Her interest in Midgard — which had just reached its two thousandth year — only grew stronger the more history and facts she learned. After his discussion with Frigga, Loki saw the importance in her words and refused to let Odin’s insistence prevent him from making Ellie’s life in a foreign realm a little easier. She had remained settled thankfully and continued to slowly adjust. The mental scarring from whatever befell her on Midgard remained, but physically she had looked less weedy of late. As a result, he and Thor settled into their old habit of seeing her when they could and the Allfather said nothing about it. As to whether that had anything to do with the Allmother, Loki did not know, but he still assumed as much. He was so transfixed by the sheets of paper, he barely noticed her return.

“Are you studying seiðr, Prince Loki?” she asked with the book tucked under her arm.

“Yes, little Ellie,” he replied, looking up briefly.

“Can’t sleep?”

“I have not yet attempted it.”

Ellie looked between the prince and the book in her hands. “I wish I could do magic.”

“Like your book?” he asked absentmindedly.

“Maybe… But more like your magic — seiðr.”

He scoffed. “It is not exactly a Midgardian practice. There are even few Asgardians who are very familiar with it. The Vanir would be considered the masters of it, even if they are ridiculously arrogant about the fact.”

“Hogun doesn’t seem that arrogant.”

“That is not exactly the word I would use to describe his personality…”

Perhaps the term pompous ass would better suit him?

“I know it’s not a very Midgardian thing,” Ellie continued on, seemingly unfazed by Loki’s words. “But I wish I was as good at it as you are.”

He looked up from his studies at her statement, lips pouted curiously. “You wish to learn seiðr?”

She shrugged. “If I could.”

Loki remained in his seat, tapping his fingers and watching the young mortal as she read the back of The Goblet of Fire. In his mind, he considered his options (mostly Odin’s disgruntled reaction to said options) before opening his mouth.

“You know,” he began casually. “There are certain Midgardians that are capable of learning the art of seiðr.”

His statement seemed to grab her immediate interest. “Really?”

“Indeed, little one. Certain individuals who trained hard enough and for a long enough time. They dedicated themselves to the art and became shamans with a connection to both good and evil spirits in the world.”

“Would they not practice for a super long time?”

“Well, you could put it that way, yes. It took a lot of practice, a lot of time, and a lot of patience. Much as it was when my mother taught me.”

“Have you ever taught anyone seiðr?”

He shook his head. “Not as of yet. Although I had yet to find someone I thought worthy of learning.”

“So,” she drawled out, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Does that mean you would teach someone? If you thought they were worth it? You would then?”

“Perhaps.” He shrugged slightly and gestured to the stack of tomes on the table. “If my student is willing to study as hard as I.”

“I’m willin’!” Ellie blurted out before he could explain any further.

He assessed her expression — a surprisingly earnest one — before he opened his mouth to answer. “Are you now, little Ellie?”

“Yeah, I am. I would love to learn how to do magic, my Lord, and you’re the best one to learn from, instead of maybe the Queen herself!”

“Oh my, you do flatter me.” 

Standing abruptly from his chair, Loki strolled over to the section of the library dedicated to the practice of magic. Being so familiar with this section, he easily found one of the first books he read in relation to beginners seiðr and made his way back over to where Ellie was waiting. Upon his return, she straightened her posture and waited to be spoken to, a habit instilled in her by her handmaiden training.

“Relax yourself. There’s no need for formalities at this ungodly hour,” Loki grumbled and held out the book to her. “If you want me to teach you, then go and familiarise yourself with what you will be learning. Once you have completed your duties and lessons each day, read the history of seiðr, what it consists of, and how you can develop your skill over time. Read chapters one through ten and then come back to me when you have done so. After you have done that much, I can start the basics with you if you wish to continue.”

“My Prince—”

“Loki,” he corrected calmly.

“Prince Loki—”

He groaned loudly. “Just Loki is acceptable at this time of night. It’s a bit late for grand titles, wouldn’t you agree?”

“If you insist,” she said with a nod, and took the book he had offered. She gently traced the intricate design on the cover with a finger, wonderment clear in her expression. “Would you really do that? Would you teach me how to wild seiðr like you?”

He snorted slightly. “You have to understand, you will most certainly not be as skilled as I; I do have a thousand year advantage over you.”

  She frowned at the book, brows furrowed at his comments. “If I can’t practice for as long as you can, then why bother teachin’ me? I’ll probably suck at it.” 

At first he thought her words were in jest, but it became increasingly clear to Loki as he studied her disheartened expression that she was being perfectly serious. If she could not study seiðr for thousands of years to master it, if she could never amount to the level of skill that he or other sorcerers possessed, then why bother at all?

… human life does not make her unworthy of your time. If anything, it makes your time with her more precious.

Without another thought, Loki placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Whether you can survive one hundred years or one thousand means little to me in terms of learning. After eight years in another realm, you have managed to continue your learnings of Midgardian English and Norse ruins, and have excelled in your responsibilities as a handmaiden. If you want to learn, then I will teach you as much as I can in the time we have. Do not think so little of yourself. You won’t get far with an attitude like that.”

“Sorry,” she replied sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

He waved his hand at her and took his seat once more. “Worry not. Now, get yourself to bed before the Einherjar find you sneaking about. I trust you to get back in one piece.”

“I won’t let you down,” she insisted, gesturing to the books in hand as she made her way to the massive library doors. She opened it, careful not to let it creak, hesitated, and then turned to face him again with a small smile. “Thanks for that. And for the books too.”

He gave her a nod and answered. “You’re welcome, little one.”

With that, Ellie turned on her heels and slipped out the door, leaving Loki alone once more, reading his notes in candle light.

[avenger-hawk]

Itasasu > SasIt ! I applaud you. Never understood how Itachi would ever not be the lead. Dude as a kid already wanted to lead. Even in his last moments, being open about the truth he never let go of the reigns.

Say it louder for people in the back~

I could just post your ask without adding anything because that’s Itachi’s personality in a nutshell, or I could just add this image because their expressions are pretty telling, but I’ll add more.

(under the cut antiSas*ita, anti submissiveItachi &dominantSasuke, some vague anti-ending too)

First of all when I, this anon and those with a brain refer to this it’s never just about top/bottom in sex. Someone recently made a fuss (again) about how wrong it is to express a preference on, as they “elegantly” put it, who takes it up the a**, obviously followed by their insignificant minions trying to get attention by playing woke and knowledgeable on realistic stuff. Needless to say, I pay more attention to a pigeon strutting around that to a first world kid playing woke when they can’t even get out of their room without whining, let alone having any experience with (any orientation of)sex. These dumbass**es have no knowledge or experience in sex as well as interacting and living as functioning humans, otherwise they would know the difference between fiction and reality and they wouldn’t shield themselves behind mental illnesses and other issues that magically are only relevant when someone attacks them in return.

Unfortunately for those who attacks who dares have a preference and an opinion, calling them fetishists, actually come off as way thirstier and only interested in smutty acts, since to me (and not just me) sex is not just a physical act, but an extension, and an expression, of someone’s personality, like a lot of other things. In relationships there is almost always a dominant person who takes the lead and a more passive one who follows it, who lets the other lead. Usually someone who leads in a lot of aspects also is dominant in bed. There are exceptions, sure, from switching to being unexpectedly submissive, but it’s more likely that someone who wants to be in control always wants that, both in real life and in fiction.

People misunderstand characters all the time, especially Itachi and Sasuke and their dynamic. They aren’t able to consider the whole picture and the underlying motivations, they just see a few details and they come to simplistic and wrong conclusions. So they see Itachi as not just the martyr but the submissive, meek selfless cinnamon roll who was treated as a tool by his father and the village so he can only obey and he would obey to Sasuke, Shisui and whomever they want. They don’t realize that no matter how smart and how visionary his thought is, he’s a shinobi, a tool by definition, like many others. Obeying to his father is a matter of education and affection, since it’s his father. But he also shows a non-submissive attitude towards him, like when he refused to go on a mission if his father didn’t go to Sasuke’s academy ceremony. So obeying and being submissive are different things. Same for Konoha. Obeying to Danzo and Hiruzen is a matter of loyalty, not to them but to the idea of village, since Itachi knew its flaws. And obeying to them isn’t submitting either, or supporting their cause. He was manipulated because he was young and alone, and he was afraid that Danzo would kill Sasuke, and still he knew it, or he wouldn’t have threatened Danzo to spill Konoha’s secrets if he harmed Sasuke. How is this a submissive personality? Itachi is an independent and visionary genius, his thought process is so complex and twisted and extreme that no one else gets it, readers epecially. 

You said it, Itachi always wanted to be in control, from knowing things to acting to change them. He even decided how and when to die, and when he returned as Edo Tensei he only opened up when he decided, making Sasuke wait because he had stuff to do first (no matter how important). He led Sasuke’s life completely, from their childhood to the massacre (choosing to kill the clan and spare his beloved brother), to his life after the massacre, that he controlled indirectly, making him stay in Konoha, pushing him towards getting stronger and fueling himself with hate for him only, making sure he wouldn’t know the truth after his death. He wasn’t even that subtle about his controlling attitude over Sasuke, like making him believe that he was making his own decisions (kinda like Orochimaru and other manipulators did to Sasuke instead), he clearly directed them since his infamous speech the night of the massacre, and he pointed out when Sasuke didn’t do as he had said, like not killing N*ruto.

I’m not saying that bottom Itachi can’t happen, but I don’t think his dynamic with Sasuke would lean towards Sas*ita.

Sasuke is mistaken as a dominant character because of his rude, bratty, arrogant attitude, not realizing that he only shows it at certain times, while most of the time he’s detached, lost in his thoughts, never imposing or asserting himself unless he’s fighting. He never tried to control anyone, as you can see from the way he formed Team Hebi/Taka, freeing them first, helping them out (like Juugo, promising to be his cage) then asking for their help in return but making it clear that he won’t force them if they’ll refuse. He’s blunt and direct, goal oriented and effective, and he’s another original thinker with an out-of-the-box mentality but he’s not controlling or assertive, no matter how goal oriented he is. Because of his original thinking, that leads to original goals that no one shares and everyone condemns as criminal, he acts on his own, he does what he has to do for his goal, since no one will help him. He doesn’t care about being a leader, he doesn’t care about power. He wants to be acknowledged by the few he holds in high esteem, the few strong ones, and that’s all. He dreamed of being in the Uchiha Police beside his father and brother, he is reminded of that in Shinden too. He wanted to become Hokage to change a flawed system, because no one else would do that, but when N*ruto promises to do it himself he steps aside, and he’s ok living as “the Hokage’s shadow” whatever that means (I don’t believe he’s another Hokage-like figure since he doesn’t have the same political power. He’s a subordinate to N*ruto). His path was set by Itachi at first, even though he modified it it was still a reaction, no matter how independent. Then he reacted to whatever life threw at him, and he reacted quickly and effectively, fighting back, getting up as his world crumbled over and over, and that’s a sign of his strength, but it’s not a sign of assertiveness, since he’s a passive person. Kishi himself wrote him as yin and this stays whether he’s compared to N*ruto or Itachi or anyone else. Even the way he thinks about looking at their backs identifies him as passive compared to them. Taking matters in his own hands because no one else does is different as initiating everything and setting things in motion like Itachi did instead.

All this to say, once again, that even though I had a Sas*ita phase at some point, I understood that while it’s ok to have one’s own preference, it doesn’t match their personalities at all, so it’s not IC. Their dynamic is clear, Itachi takes the lead, Sasuke follows, naturally, since he’s the youngest and he’s wired to obey to his older brother, who would have been the clan leader if the massacre hadn’t happened. Itachi is caring and protective of him but also controlling because it’s his way of protecting him, as extreme as his mindset. He’s a genius who knows better than anyone, so he thinks, and he’s Sasuke’s older brother, he loves Sasuke more than anyone else and this gives him the right, in his mind, to act for his own good, no matter what Sasuke thinks and wants.

And Sasuke is honest, direct and selfless. He loves and respects his brother so much that he doesn’t impose his presence or his ideas on him. Never. Not even when he was trying to know the truth and Edo Tensei Itachi was about to leave him forever, and he would have wanted him to stay and take care of him, even fix him, even scold him for having disobeyed him, or stop him from destroying Konoha. Thus I can’t see him taking the lead in their relationship. He’s not sneaky or manipulative either, so he’s not “topping from the bottom” or whatever. 

Most of the times Itachi and Sasuke interact Sasuke is looking up at him, literally and figuratively, and you can see it in the manga panels or screenshots. He literally worships Itachi like a god, and he respects him incredibly, while Itachi worships Sasuke in a different way, not putting him on a pedestal but putting him under glass and controlling his every move. This, too, shows their dynamic.

Itasasu >Sas*ita indeed.

Also this applies to other pairings as well, especially Sas*naru. I don’t care about your eventual “they switch”. Not on this blog. 

[nightblink]

Blink Reads Oathbringer - Chapters 22-30

Chapter Twenty-Two – The Darkness Within

MRAIZE IT'S FUCKING MRAIZE SHIT SHIT ABORT MISSION AB O R T

She's definitely referring to Adolin as the whitespine here, hinting entirely unsubtly that she believes he (or at least a Kholin or one of their army) killed her husband. But does she have information we don't know about? Also, mark 2 for Adolin being associated with whitespines.

Go Adolin, that is exactly what needed to be said. And! Ialai's actually listening! She's treating Shallan like little more than a servant, though, and that is a very deliberate slight to her honor/authority.

!!! So. Ialai has no idea of Mraize's Ghostblood affiliations? Okay, okay, I'm now less on edge regarding this interview.

Oh shit, Shallan, he knows. Did you honestly think he wouldn't have that tidbit of information?

“You killed Jasnah.” Shallan. You just said yourself last chapter that you (a Radiant) could survive a sword through the chest. I'm amazed that you haven't put two and two together yet.

Ooooo. The “wrongness”? Was there some Ancient Evil in a Can that was unleashed when the Alethi came through the Oathgate? Well, no matter that or something else, “securing Urithiru” is a goal you can both get behind.

The little snub with the tea is perfect petty revenge (coupled with a bit of power maneuvering).

AMARAM. Goddamn it, I thought you were discredited! Only among the Kholins, it seems, Damn it. And Shallan still thinks you were the one that Killed Helaran. This is going to be a shitshow.

And Adolin's first thought is 'Kaladin isn't going to like this.' Ahhhhh, bless.

Adolin, you did well, even if you did almost punch her. You may not be good at politics, but you manage.

STORMS ARE BACK.

Chapter Twenty-Three – Storming Strange

Deceiving an honest person, Kaladin? [gasps] But hey, you and the Parshmen will be safe. With any luck, staying out of the storms will also mean they won't be exposed to Odiumspren of any kind.

Everstorm Count: 2 passes

Heh, he's a stubborn old man, Kal – you might not be able to slip this one past him. ...or not, that works too

The spren “have a destination in mind”. That does not bode well. Odium will need an army, not just a Champion, and turning them all in one place might be his plan rather than leaving them in smaller numbers with a better chance of getting overwhelmed by Rosharan forces.

Speaking of things the Parshmen stole from you, have you been checking back with the spanreed to- Ahhh, no, they took that too.

The spren! Stone/earth associations at the moment; perhaps flame, but that's colour alone. Still not entirely sure what kind of spren she is.

...I think she suspects, Kal.

Chapter Twenty-Four – Men of Blood and Sorrow

“Dalinar remembered.” That alone is enough to make me screech and bounce around the room, he remembers, he remembers-!

“not true golden, like the hair of the Iriali” okay Sanderson I will give you this but I'm still set on very subtle metallics, which is quite reasonable given the shared heritage between the Iriali and Rirans

Okay, so not a whole lot of memories returned, but still. INFO ON EVI. AAAAAHHHHHH-

“He didn't remember love” I have the feeling that that's going to change. You don't do something as drastic as going to the Nightwatcher to forget her loss if wasn't a pain that pierced deep.

What was your bargain with the Nightwatcher, We still don'y actually know. Sanderson, this better get explained later. Currently I'm of the opinion that the Nahel bond is interfering with it somehow.

Oh no oh noooooo, it's Taravangian. What are you planning…

“this man had been a friend to Gavilar” - and Gavilar was likely part of the Diagram as well, in that case and considering the political and military power he wielded

Or. Or not. Five years ago must have been when it started, and Gavilar was two years cold by then.

NEW RADIANT NEW RADIANT. Malata. No indication of what Order she is, but to work the Oathgate she has to have a living Shardblade, so there's no question there that she is one.

And here I thought assassinations weren't very Alethi, Dalinar.

What a way to drop the chapter title, ooof. That's something for Dalinar to think on.

Navani with the power dress, awwww yeah.

[winces] And they're underestimating Taravangian immensely, as he probably planned.

DUSTBRINGER. DUSTBRINGER DUSTBRINGER DUSTBRINGER TELL ME WHAT THE OATHS ARE, TELL ME-

I… had not considered that she might have one of the other Honorblades rather than being a Radiant.

“Lore about people dealing with their curses, and seeking any cure for them, is practically its own genre.” And now I want a peek at in-world novels covering this.

Oop, and the Stormfather confirms that it's not the Nahel bond causing the memory resurgence. There goes my theory.

Well. That Tukari “god-king” seems… unhinged. He's not going to roll over anytime soon, and I worry that Dalinar might end up fighting a war on two or more fronts here. Negotiation isn't going to do anything.

No one believes that you won't attack. No one believes that you, in particular, have changed, and what reason would they have to do so? No more than they do to believe that the warring Alethi will do anything else either.

How much of a tyrant will you be, Dalinar Kholin?

Chapter 25 – The Girl Who Looked Up

The sketch-picture page preceding this chapter is really unsettling. Seriously, Shallan, you need a therapist.

The note before the chapter isn't particularly reassuring either.

Perhaps there is information here, and you just haven't delved deep enough to find it.

A theatre! Oh man, yeah, Pattern would love the theatre. THE BEST KIND OF LIES.

Acting out the play with stormlight figures! Excellent practice for moving illusions that are separate from the Radiant.

Bit of an Attack on Titan vibe going on from that wall and the lack of wondering about its origins.

Eyeless crowd? Creepy, Shallan. You'd better save some of that spherelight for your walk back too.

“All but one” WAIT. WHAT. A shadowy figure? Spren or human? Considering Shallan, could be either.

Aaaaaand she's slipping into Radiant's personality again. Again the name changes.

Why the different light-versions of yourself? To confuse the shadow? To light the room? What…? I'm confused.

Oh, shit- Yeah, spren. With extra body horror.

She's changing personalities even easier than before. It seems she's still consciously doing it, but she doesn't have to spend any time getting into the mindset of another personality anymore. It simply flows.

Rock? It attacked Rock? Like Shallan stabbed the Horneater called Ur at the bar. And after Sadeas, that mirror-murder was a soldier. The spren – it has to be this shadow-spren - it's looking for at least some physical commonalities in its choice of victim. It's not just murder it's reenacting either – just. Violence. Maybe there needs to be blood involved? Or an emotion like fear?

“I don't want to be blind anymore.” Oooo, another seeking secrets. This definitely won't be the last we see of you, Ishnah.

Chapter Twenty-Six – Blackthorn Unleashed

MORE EVI MORE EVI-

So the Heralds are still 'worshipped' in Iri, even if the names are changed, and they have a similar practice of burning prayers. The largest difference is the 'god' at the top of the chain – possibly split between Honor and Cultivation, or perhaps the origin of the Iriali's 'One' stretches all the way back to Adonalsium.

Oh, you'll know in a few decades what it takes to earn the ardent's displeasure, and by then you'll care more about it as well.

I love Evi already.

Dalinar “what are hugs” Kholin

AYYYY SEBARIAL~~~ not showing up. [snickers] Trying to play both sides to the end while not fighting himself.

Oh interesting. The Plate belongs to Evi and not her brother? Considering the accusation that they 'stole' it, it's not a question of which one has a more legitimate claim to the Plate, so it was decided that the Plate would go to Evi. Huh.

Ryshadium! And you tell that by that fact that they're followed by musicspren. That's… unexpected. Some connection to the Listeners and their Rhythms, or perhaps the Dawnsingers?

Oooo, Dalinar is not feeling charitable right about now – probably still mulling the possibility of fratricide over in his brain. “Stay out of my way” indeed.

[winces] He revels in the death and destruction and men fall by the dozens with burned-out eyes, so different from the Dalinar we know. This is deadly momentum – something had to change even before the night of Gavilar's death, a decision of some kind, or Dalinar would probably have looked to Herdaz or Jah Keved next and steamrolled onwards until he dropped dead.

…..that redness does not seem normal , even for the Thrill. I'm sensing something else going on.

Kadash? I though you said in the future that you left after the battle at the Rift? ...huh. There must be a second time they fight there, because you're still here.

“He felt sad to have to engage a Shardbearer, instead of continuing his fight against the ordinary men.” That's…. You're not addicted to the fight. You're addicted to the kill.

Slate-grey plate even way back then. Even before the Codes, you were never one for ornamentation.

Oh! That's Elhokar's Shardblade, Sunraiser!

'Bloodstance – a stance for someone who didn't care if he got hit.' No details on what that stance looks like? Come ooooon. Still, if it was an unarmed man against a Shardbearer, that's be one thing. Shards against Shards? This could get ugly.

This fight would be so brutally good animated.

Loving the change in setting when they get to the peak, and then the change in style that the terrain necessitates. The surge of bloodthirst in the Thrill, however...

[winces] That thirst for killing isn't abating, this is not good… and there's Gavilar. Within running distance, in possession of a heart that beats and things that Dalinar wants. This is it, this is when he considers, but it he actually going to go for it, shit shit shit, he is, shit-

And stops at the last second. Stormfather.

You do deserve shamespren.

There's it, that's the decision. 'I must never be king.'

Picture at the end of the chapter: Did we really need to see the oozing horror of that spren? Did we really? [shudders]

Chapter Twenty-Seven – Playing Pretend

Shallan curled up all comfortably is a good sign. The fact that the strange shadow-figure is definitely some kind of Odium-spren, not at all. Also not encouraging is that Shallan refers to “Radiant” as if she were separate.

Something is cutting off their lines of communication. Deliberately. Fuuuuuuuuuck.

I support Aladar in the use of some judicious ass-kicking.

YES GIVE US MORE ON THE NEW MAYBE-RADIANT. 'Spark' is a good name for a spren,  but that bit about destroying things… We need to know what kind of spren the Dustbringers bond to. Now.

Oooo, so she's not on board with uniting the Radiants despite the fact that she is one? That's new – we haven't seen Lift or Szeth since Edgedancer, but this is the first new 'Radiant' to appear that's come and announced her dissatisfaction, even if it's to Shallan and not Dalinar the Bondsmith.

Ialai and Amaram. How are you two going to throw a wrench into proceedings this time…?

Oh shit. Oh shit.

“Everything I've done is for the greater good, Dalinar. Everything.” [Obi-Wan voice echoing in the distance] 'From a certain point of view…' Ugh, Amaram, you slime. Somehow you keep rising in power and authority and you do it all in “““acceptable””” ways. Can we punt your sorry ass to Braize to burn yet.

“Highprince.” “Highprince.” “Bastard.” THANK YOU ADOLIN

It's a good thing Dalinar “suggested” he leave and take a moment or he'd probably punch Amaram right there in front of everyone, then at least once more since Kaladin's not there.

Oh shit, you're telling him you suspect Amaram killed Helaran? Whoa. On one hand, I love that you're opening up and trusting someone, on the other, this could complicate things when it comes up that Kaladin is the actual one who won-

Adolin knows. And he's telling her in return. Ffffffffftttttttt-

And there she goes trying to repress the knowledge. Doesn't seem to be working this time.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck she doesn't remember drawing those pictures. Slipping one personality into the dominant state of mind is one thing, but this is even more worrying.

Ooo, going to bring your men sort-of into the plan? Whatever the plan is? ….please don't intentionally get any of them killed.

Chapter Twenty-Eight – Another Option

Wait, wait, wait. No. Bad idea. Don't destroy (or try to destroy) your Oathgate. That is a terrible idea and have you run this past Gawx and Lift yet? Have you done the right paperwork for this?

At least he has Shallan's report on the murderspren now. It's not comforting that it has peepholes everywhere. Watching. Waiting.

Surge practice! You need it Dal, you're the most unfamiliar of the lot with your abilities.

Adding 'mink' to the list of Rosharan critters. But do we assume for now that it's furry like an Earth mink, or some sort of carapaced version?

“garnet-lit tongue” - probably an equivalent of what we know as silver-tongued

Yeah, everyone still thinks that you're going to use your new Fast Travel to conquer them. Considering your history as well as your country's, I can't blame them for the reluctance.

Bridge Four needs him, but not for a murder- oh. They found the sword. Oh. Stormfather is not happy about you even touching that, much less carrying it around

Oh shit is he taking it back to Ialai?! Yes, yes he is. Makes sense, but handing another Shardblade over to Amaram gives me bad shivers.

Speaking of which, FUCK OFF, AMARAM

[winces] He's not wrong on the point about hypocrisy, I have to give him that much (even if it pains me) and Dalinar needed to hear it. However, it's tying back to Dalinar's realization after his vision of Nohadon, when he found out that he must have written the in-book The Way of Kings once he'd already solidified power. I wonder if he'll realize that…?

Oh goddamn it, not Taravangian

They're talking… religion? And The Way of Kings. Taravangian is going to interpret some of those stories or morals in a vastly different way than Dalinar, I suspect. Either that or he'll confirm Dalinar's, and we the readers will be left screaming in frustration

Dalinar, Dalinar, he's advocating that the ends justify the means, do not follow down this path…

“But sometimes a hypocrite is nothing more than a person who is in the process of changing.” And you have changed so much from the man you once were, Dalinar. You don't deny that.

Wait, what.

The Stormfather confused is hilarious.

I am cackling over the thought of Dalinar storm-projecting to the other monarchs. Not accepting my invitations? Fine, I'll just barge into your head during a Highstorm! CAN'T KEEP ME OUT NOW~

Chapter Twenty-Nine – No Backing Down

Back to Veil again, and worrying about Shallan's mental state.

Her description of the thing she saw, that she knows is watching – the sound of a tunnel extending into darkness, the feel of breath on the back of your neck in a dark room – I'm definitely creeped out. Consider me creeped.

Do your soldiers know you as Veil, or do they only know Shallan? Ahh, just Shallan. So it remains that only the Ghostbloods know about your dual (at least) nature.

A fingering joke, are you kidding me. Well, at least he's taking her rejection with nothing more than an ah well.

Her personalities are delineating themselves, becoming more distinct and real unto themselves. But was it any of these main three – Shallan, Veil, and Radiant – that drew the disturbing pictures? She remembers what she does as those three, so what if there's another personality lurking, submerged, that she doesn't know about….? I am concern.

Yeah, I thought it might be the hanging rather than the bashing. Given the choice, it'll probably go for the more violent of two acts.

Well if that isn't a mouth to the void… [shudders] Shallan, I don't like the thought of you staying here alone, especially since this Hellmouth is somehow in your sketchbook and you don't know how it got there.

I am very concern about your personality shifts, Shallan.

Well, Pattern may have worded it in such a way that he overstated the danger, but still, good to see that Adolin is taking all the precautions he can, even if that means two men in Plate, a second Radiant for backup, and the entirety of Bridge Four.

Renarin is definitely sensing something too – this wrongness that permeates the city. But! B4 accepting him! Needling fun at him and treating him like any other part of Bridge Four! Ahhhh, Renarin, I'm so glad to see people other than your family appreciating you.

I'm with Drehy on this one. Fuckin' nope.

Down into the abyss, which… has colour down below? Mosaics of Honor and Cultivation? Was this once the true center of Urithiru?

Renarin's carrying a Shardblade which must be (is most likely???) Glys, but we get no visual description? Come on, Sanderson!

Truthwatchers and Lightweavers share the Illumination Surge. Perhaps their ability to sense the wrongness - “illuminating” the hiding shadow, if you will – is tied to that.

[winces] Jasnah is not going to be happy at finding the library she sought ruined.

…..oh no.

oh fuck

“One of the Unmade. Re-Shephir… the Midnight Mother.”

Okay, one: ten rubies says that this thing is the origin of the Midnight Essence that Dalinar saw in his vision of the past, back in the first book. Two: Renarin how the fuck do you know what it's called? Are the Unmade part of general Voidbringer lore in Vorinism? Three: time to beat a hasty retreat

Of course Adolin's going to dash right in to cover the retreat, Shallan, what did you expect?

And now we finally get a bit of description of the Glysblade(?) - “long and thin, with a waving pattern to the metal” - still no indication if curved or straight, but my current guesstimate is katana-like

BATTLE CLERIC RENARIN, FUCKYEAH

Shallan. Shallan what are you doing.

Fighting shadow with light. Yessssssss.

Well then. To fight or back down? You noted only moments ago that she could have swept you away with little effort. With light in the hands of a Lightweaver, will that be enough to do… whatever it is you're planning?

(Side note, what else am I a sucker for? Oh yeah, battle couples. Goddamn it.)

“The pain of an Ideal sworn, but not yet overcome.” I'm going to sound like a broken record with the way I keep repeating therapist. You need to face this and talk it out, Shallan, and with another, not-Pattern person.

“She was those women, those girls, every one of them. And none of them were her. They were things she used, manipulated. Illusions.” And Veil is among them as well. I'm. Not sure what to think of this, if she's thinking it in a literal manner or on a deeper level. It could be a sign of self-realization, or it might not.

Whatever it is, everyone is screwed if you don't manage to at least make it retreat.

[yells loudly about safehands as a sign of intimacy and trust and that's the method through which she's letting the thing in – and pressing back in return]

Chapter Thirty – Mother of Lies

That title alone is unsettling.

“not completely aware, not completely cognizant.” So, like pretty much all the other non-bonded spren in the Physical Realm, except this is definitely a Thing Of Odium. And it immediately tries to tear the Nahel bond apart.

!!! She's a true Splinter then?

It's gone all dark and Pattern's physically there in his larger form – I'd lay spheres that they're somehow halfway into (or at least dipping a toe into) the Cognitive Realm.

They bound her. One of the Unmade, and a Lightweaver of the past actially managed to bind her. But with all these shadows coming up into Urithiru… I doubt that's the case right now. She was freed, or broke free. And now she remains close, though deeper in the bowels of the mountain.

….you could hold a lot of stormlight in those gems.

[millenialmoviereviews-blog]

mother! (2017)

SPOILERS!

“mother!” is a psychological horror-drama written and directed by Darren Aronofsky. It stars Jennifer Lawrence (as Mother), Javier Bardem (as Him), Ed Harris (as Man), and Michelle Pfeiffer (as Woman). I have never in my life, and probably never again will see a movie like this. After it concluded, I sat in the theater in awe at what I had just witnessed. But in all honestly initially, I didn’t fully understand it. Its a rollercoaster of insanity, keeping you wondering about everything that is put before you on screen. Several hours after I had left the theater, it all hit me. I believe that I have found the true meaning of this film. The story revolves around Jennifer Lawrences character Mother, and her “tranquil existence” she has set up for herself and her husband (Javier Bardem’s character Him), who is a famous poet. This tranquility is interrupted however, by the arrival of Ed Harris’ character Man, and his wife, Michelle Pfeiffer’s character Woman. IF THERE IS EVEN REMOTELY A CHANCE THAT YOU WILL SEE THIS FILM, STOP READING NOW. This movie can lose its effect and shock factor when you know what the end goal is. You have been warned. My final take on this film is that Mother is Mother Nature, our earth. The movie opens with a scorched house, being almost brought back to life. We see Mother wake from her sleep, looking for her husband. Early on, it is obvious that mother is “one” with the house she lives in. She will often put her head against a wall and see the homes heart beating full, and plump. This in essence is her heart. Javier Bardem’s character, Him, is essentially God. He is in a relationship with mother, but not an fully intimate one. However its evident that they both want children. When they are alone in their home, everything is tranquil. This shows the peaceful existence of earth and God before the arrival of gods second most coveted creation, man. Ed Harris plays the original Man, in biblical terms this would be Adam. He arrives at the house one night and Him welcomes Man with open arms. But Mother is not so accepting. Man is very kind, but its obvious that his presence is an intrusion. He smokes, which makes mother uncomfortable. She asks man to not smoke in the house, but she soon finds that he disobeyed her and has been secretly smoking all along. This is a subtle plot point and if you’re not paying attention, it is something that you can overlook. But this is how man, humanity, has begun to treat earth with disrespect. Him invites Man into his study, where he gets all of his writing done. In the study, is a magnificent crystal that is obviously very, very, special to Him. Man tries to touch it, only for Him to quickly pull away and inform Man that the crystal is to be admired but not touched. The study is a reference to the Garden of Eden, or even the Tree of Knowledge, and the crystal is the Apple. Adam is obedient and keeps from touching the apple. This scene is followed with mother being awoken at night to find that Him is not in bed. She hears hurling coming from the guest bathroom, and walks in on Him comforting Man as he pukes into a toilet. She sees that Man has a severe cut along his rib. Him quickly covers it and asks mother to leave. My first initial thought was confusion. But in retrospect, this was the movie telling us that God (Him) has just created Woman from Mans rib. And soon after, Woman appears at the front door. Michelle Pfeiffer plays Woman, and her portrayal of Eve is astounding. Him once again invites her in with open arms because she is Mans wife. Mother once again in uncomfortable with Woman’s intrusion. Woman is rude, and she is brash. She gives off this vibe as though she knows everything. On the same day as Woman’s arrival, Him takes Man on a walk (which is a direct reference to the walks that God would take Adam on in the Bible), and mother is left alone with Woman. Woman is very curious about the room where all the magic happens (the study where Him writes). She says over and over that she just wants a peek into the room, but mother makes it very clear that Him doesn’t like anyone being in his study without him being there. This is Eves curiosity getting the best of her. Him returns with Man, and Mother has a short conversation with Him. Their conversation is interrupted by a crash, the sound of something breaking on a hardwood floor. Him and Mother run upstairs and see that Man and Woman are in His study and Woman, overcome with curiosity, has touched the crystal and broken it. This is a clear reference to Eve, biting the apple to gain knowledge (Woman says to Him that she just wanted to know what it felt like to think as He did) and it backfiring. Him is enraged and yells at Man and Woman. Woman says she is sorry, but it is obvious that she really isn’t. He banishes them from his study and boards it up, so that no man can every set foot in there without his permission. This is Adam and Eves banishment from the Garden of Eden. Him allows them to stay in the house (because the house is Earth), but mother wants them to leave. When mother goes to kick them out the next morning, the confrontation is interrupted by the arrival of Younger Brother. He is there to warn Man and Woman that Oldest Son, his brother, is enraged after reading the will that Man wrote (Man is dying). Oldest Son soon arrives and an altercation ensues. There is a struggle and Oldest Son ends up killing Younger Brother. This is a reference to Cain and Abel. In the Bible, they are the sons of Adam and Eve, and Cain kills Abel for fear that Abel was Gods “favorite”. Soon after, Him allows for a reception to be held at the home for Man and Woman and their friends and family following the death of Abel. Mother does not want all of these people in her home, but Him allows them to be there, disregarding the discomfort that mother feels. Woman is rude to Mother and Man mourns. Suddenly people fill her house, and Mother is overwhelmed. Many of the “guests” ask why Mother is there and she responds, “this is my home”. Every time she mentions that the home is hers, she is met with a sarcastic response, many of the guests saying that that He (Him) says that the home is everyones. This is humanity saying that God has given the Earth to them. It belongs to everyone, and they come and go when they want and do as they please. They don’t care about Mother Nature, because God has allowed humanity to trample over her, use and abuse her. The guests trash her home, and mother kicks them out despite what Him says. She is left to clean up the mess (she must pick up the pieces of humanities disregard for Earth; nature; her) and an argument between Mother and Him ensues. The intense argument turns into intense passion and Mother becomes pregnant. Him is inspired and his writers block is lifted. He writes and he writes until he finishes his “perfect” completed work. This is, in essence, is the Bible. Mother is upset to find out that Him has let his publicist (who is credited as Herald and played by Kristen Wiig) read his completed work before mother. Once again, God is putting humanity before Mother Nature. Mother can feel her heart deteriorating. Mother and Him decided to celebrate the critical success of his work but having a quiet dinner, alone as one. This dinner is interrupted by the arrival of spectators, people who seem worship His work. Mother wants Him to get rid of them, but Him wants them there. This is God, wanting to be worshiped. His creation loves him after the Bible is given to them and he can’t get enough of it. Mother Nature continually wonders why she is not good enough for Him. We are then introduced to Herald, who is played by Kristen Wiig. Herald is Hims publisher in the film. I believe this is a take on the pastors of the world, people that preach the gospel. Soon, mothers home is once again filled with people. It is evident that they worship Him, who is overjoyed with the attention he is being shown. But the strangers start entering the house unannounced, entering the house through back doors, then, waiting in long lines to enter the home, then resulting to just breaking in. They fight to get a look at HIm. They make shrines for Him, hang his picture all over the home, they dance in his name, they worship Him as a deity. Mother screams at the people to leave, for she is pregnant with His child and cannot take the chaos that is ensuing. But the strangers steal, they curse at her, they make advances even though she is married, they are rude, and belligerent. To worship their god (Him) they completely and utterly disrespect mother nature. Soon the home is turned into a literal war-zone. There are police, rebels, explosions, gunshots, the whole nine. This scene is CHAOS. This is take on the infighting between humans over religion and its effect on earth. People are held as slaves, and one of the masters is the Herald, who was supposed to be preaching the gospel. I believe that this is supposed to be a look at the corrupt pastors and clergymen, that preach one thing, and live life as another. Mother is very close to having her child, and soon finds her way back to Him, through all of the fighting. Him reopens his study (The Garden of Eden) in order for his son, THE Son to be born. When he is born, the strangers outside the locked study become silent. They wait to see the child of God. Mother refuses to let Him touch their son however. For a split second she falls a sleep, and Him snatches the child from her and allows his creation, humanity, to take the baby (he says that they just want to touch him). Mother is distraught and pushes through the crown to find her baby, and when she does she sees for a second that the baby breaks his neck being amongst the strangers. This is a parallel to the killing of Jesus. God gave humanity his only son to act as their savior and in return, humans killed him. When mother reaches the alter, she sees that the strangers have completely dismembered her only son, and are eating him. This is an obvious parallel to the body of Christ being blood and wine consumed by his devotees. She screams and starts to attack the strangers. The strangers then jump her, kicking and beating her into a pulp. Him comes to her aid, stressing that he only wanted to help his creation, and that he didn’t believe that they would kill their son. Mother runs down to the basement of the house where her organs are located (remember that she is one with the house) and blows it up. Mother Nature has killed off humanity, Gods second most revered creation, in order to keep them from harming Earth anymore than they already have. Him and Mother survive the explosion. Him is unscathed but Mother is burned, scorched beyond repair. She allows Him to take her heart so that he can start anew. Him reaches into her chest and pulls out her heart, which contains a crystal, a crystal just like the one that he cherished so much in the begging of the movie. He puts the crystal on a mantel and we are brought back to the opening scene, the restoration of a ruined house. we see a woman rise from the bed in the same way Jennifer Lawrence did in the opening scene. But the woman is different. Him, has started anew. Mother Nature, killed off humanity in order for God to start over. It is a cycle of trial and error, and it never ends, God will always create from the ground up in an attempt to perfect his second most revered creation behind nature, humanity. This movie is exhilarating. Every person on this planet has a differing opinion, but this movie is near PERFECT in my eyes. I have never seen a movie that was so tantalizing, claustrophobic, and breathtaking. Aronofsky offers his heart out to us, telling us the ultimate tale, the tale of creation and destruction. The tale of life, and the tale of death. I give this movie a 9.8/10. It blew me away. The only regret I have is that in seeing this, I feel a movie can never make me feel the way this did again. Now I’m not religious, but in terms of Aronofsky’s “mother!”, seeing is definitely believing.

[dfroza]

A good morning scene in True nature from my Saturn Vue 99 months ago on march 24 of ‘11 along with a cup of coffee that day in Old Town Lompoc, California

shared here & now on day 24 of june in ‘19, simultaneously the 4th day of Summer

also being 244 days in dept. #36 at Pridgeon & Clay since my first day on the press floor back on October 23 with the number 36 a part of the Oklahoma license plate of my Vue

[036 AKO]

and the number 244 is also seen mirrored in my personal History from a small black leather-bound Bible that was left in my shipwrecked Saturn Vue in Los Angeles in ‘12 which had inscribed in gold lettering the number/letter 244S on its side binding, of which reflects upon Today’s date of june 24 being day 4 of Summer [244S]

and to accompany this thought Today’s paired chapters of the Testaments in my personal reading of the Scriptures are Galatians 1 and Isaiah 33 which Together form [133] as a mirroring of the alphabetic number of the words “Chevy Lumina” and each of these chapters happen to contain 24 verses of Scripture

and we see in the first chapter of Galatians a picture of grace revealed in the True illumination of the pure Son of God and my own personal [blueprint] design of my heart being written into a book that points to this, namely, the treasure held in the inner room (the instrumental womb) where the Spirit exists who has given me a seed of a promised rebirth, both for the heart and the body (at some point when mortality becomes immortal just as God is)

and this is a promise given to all of His children of Light who have been first chosen to be in Love, and who simultaneously personally choose to “believe...” with the heart and to confess it as well in (A full circle of silence & sound)

with a look into the inner room from Today’s reading in the Psalms for day 175 of the year that coincides with Psalm 25:

“There’s a private place reserved for the lovers of God, where they sit near him and receive the revelation-secrets of his promises.”

The ‭‭Book of Psalms, Poem‬ ‭25:14‬ ‭(The Passion Translation)

and we hear the silent call of the Spirit in the place of the heart, as well as from people who speak under the inspiration of the truth in Love that is held and guarded within themselves (and Love is Light, and Light is God)

with a point of inspiration for answering such a question mark (?) seen in the book of Proverbs from Today’s chapter for june 24:

“An honest answer is like a warm hug.”

The ‭‭Book of Proverbs‬, Chapter 24:26‬ (The ‭Message)

from the words of an ancient Letter by Paul with the first chapter of Galatians:

I, Paul, and my companions in faith here, send greetings to the Galatian churches. My authority for writing to you does not come from any popular vote of the people, nor does it come through the appointment of some human higher-up. It comes directly from Jesus the Messiah and God the Father, who raised him from the dead. I’m God-commissioned. So I greet you with the great words, grace and peace! We know the meaning of those words because Jesus Christ rescued us from this evil world we’re in by offering himself as a sacrifice for our sins. God’s plan is that we all experience that rescue. Glory to God forever! Oh, yes!

[The Message]

I can’t believe your fickleness—how easily you have turned traitor to him who called you by the grace of Christ by embracing a variant message! It is not a minor variation, you know; it is completely other, an alien message, a no-message, a lie about God. Those who are provoking this agitation among you are turning the Message of Christ on its head. Let me be blunt: If one of us—even if an angel from heaven!—were to preach something other than what we preached originally, let him be cursed. I said it once; I’ll say it again: If anyone, regardless of reputation or credentials, preaches something other than what you received originally, let him be cursed.

Do you think I speak this strongly in order to manipulate crowds? Or curry favor with God? Or get popular applause? If my goal was popularity, I wouldn’t bother being Christ’s slave. Know this—I am most emphatic here, friends—this great Message I delivered to you is not mere human optimism. I didn’t receive it through the traditions, and I wasn’t taught it in some school. I got it straight from God, received the Message directly from Jesus Christ.

I’m sure that you’ve heard the story of my earlier life when I lived in the Jewish way. In those days I went all out in persecuting God’s church. I was systematically destroying it. I was so enthusiastic about the traditions of my ancestors that I advanced head and shoulders above my peers in my career. Even then God had designs on me. Why, when I was still in my mother’s womb he chose and called me out of sheer generosity! Now he has intervened and revealed his Son to me so that I might joyfully tell non-Jews about him.

Immediately after my calling—without consulting anyone around me and without going up to Jerusalem to confer with those who were apostles long before I was—I got away to Arabia. Later I returned to Damascus, but it was three years before I went up to Jerusalem to compare stories with Peter. I was there only fifteen days—but what days they were! Except for our Master’s brother James, I saw no other apostles. (I’m telling you the absolute truth in this.)

Then I began my ministry in the regions of Syria and Cilicia. After all that time and activity I was still unknown by face among the Christian churches in Judea. There was only this report: “That man who once persecuted us is now preaching the very message he used to try to destroy.” Their response was to recognize and worship God because of me!

The Letter of Galatians, Chapter 1 (The Message)

to be accompanied by chapter 33 of the writing of Isaiah which has been divided into a book of 66 chapters, just as the Bible contains 66 books in the combined Testaments:

[The Ground Under Our Feet Mourns]

Doom to you, Destroyer,

not yet destroyed;

And doom to you, Betrayer,

not yet betrayed.

When you finish destroying,

your turn will come—destroyed!

When you quit betraying,

your turn will come—betrayed!

God, treat us kindly. You’re our only hope.

First thing in the morning, be there for us!

When things go bad, help us out!

You spoke in thunder and everyone ran.

You showed up and nations scattered.

Your people, for a change, got in on the loot,

picking the field clean of the enemy spoils.

God is supremely esteemed. His center holds.

Zion brims over with all that is just and right.

God keeps your days stable and secure—

salvation, wisdom, and knowledge in surplus,

and best of all, Zion’s treasure, Fear-of-God.

But look! Listen!

Tough men weep openly.

Peacemaking diplomats are in bitter tears.

The roads are empty—

not a soul out on the streets.

The peace treaty is broken,

its conditions violated,

its signers reviled.

The very ground under our feet mourns,

the Lebanon mountains hang their heads,

Flowering Sharon is a weed-choked gully,

and the forests of Bashan and Carmel? Bare branches.

“Now I’m stepping in,” God says.

“From now on, I’m taking over.

The gloves come off. Now see how mighty I am.

There’s nothing to you.

Pregnant with chaff, you produce straw babies;

full of hot air, you self-destruct.

You’re good for nothing but fertilizer and fuel.

Earth to earth—and the sooner the better.

“If you’re far away,

get the reports on what I’ve done,

And if you’re in the neighborhood,

pay attention to my record.

The sinners in Zion are rightly terrified;

the godless are at their wit’s end:

‘Who among us can survive this firestorm?

Who of us can get out of this purge with our lives?’”

The answer’s simple:

Live right,

speak the truth,

despise exploitation,

refuse bribes,

reject violence,

avoid evil amusements.

This is how you raise your standard of living!

A safe and stable way to live.

A nourishing, satisfying way to live.

[God Makes All the Decisions Here]

Oh, you’ll see the king—a beautiful sight!

And you’ll take in the wide vistas of land.

In your mind you’ll go over the old terrors:

“What happened to that Assyrian inspector who condemned and confiscated?

And the one who gouged us of taxes?

And that cheating moneychanger?”

Gone! Out of sight forever! Their insolence

nothing now but a fading stain on the carpet!

No more putting up with a language you can’t understand,

no more sounds of gibberish in your ears.

Just take a look at Zion, will you?

Centering our worship in festival feasts!

Feast your eyes on Jerusalem,

a quiet and permanent place to live.

No more pulling up stakes and moving on,

no more patched-together lean-tos.

Instead, God! God majestic, God himself the place

in a country of broad rivers and streams,

But rivers blocked to invading ships,

off-limits to predatory pirates.

For God makes all the decisions here. God is our king.

God runs this place and he’ll keep us safe.

Ha! Your sails are in shreds,

your mast wobbling,

your hold leaking.

The plunder is free for the taking, free for all—

for weak and strong, insiders and outsiders.

No one in Zion will say, “I’m sick.”

Best of all, they’ll all live guilt-free.

The Scroll of Isaiah, Chapter 33 (The Message)

and this accompanied by Psalm 24 and 4:

[Psalm 24]

The Glorious King

David’s poetic praise to God

God claims the world as his.

Everything and everyone belongs to him!

He’s the one who pushed back oceans

to let the dry ground appear,

planting firm foundations for the earth.

Who, then, ascends into the presence of the Lord?

And who has the privilege of entering into God’s Holy Place?

Those who are clean—whose works and ways are pure,

whose hearts are true and sealed by the truth,

those who never deceive, whose words are sure.

They will receive the Lord’s blessing

and righteousness given by the Savior-God.

They will stand before God,

for they seek the pleasure of God’s face, the God of Jacob.

Pause in his presence

So wake up, you living gateways!

Lift up your heads, you ageless doors of destiny!

Welcome the King of Glory,

for he is about to come through you.

You ask, “Who is this Glory-King?”

The Lord, armed and ready for battle,

the Mighty One, invincible in every way!

So wake up, you living gateways, and rejoice!

Fling wide, you ageless doors of destiny!

Here he comes; the King of Glory is ready to come in.

You ask, “Who is this King of Glory?”

He is the Lord of Victory, armed and ready for battle,

the Mighty One, the invincible commander of heaven’s hosts!

Yes, he is the King of Glory!

Pause in his presence

The Book of Psalms, Poem 24 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 4]

An Evening Prayer for Help

For the Pure and Shining One

For the end, a melody by King David

God, you are my righteousness, my champion defender.

Answer me when I cry for help!

Whenever I was in distress, you enlarged me.

I’m being squeezed again—I need your kindness right away!

Grant me your grace, hear my prayer, and set me free!

Listen to me, you elite among men:

How long will you defame my honor

and drag it down into shame?

Will you ever stop insulting me?

How long will you set your heart on shadows,

chasing your lies and delusions?

Pause in his presence

May we never forget that the Lord works wonders

for every one of his devoted lovers.

And this is how I know that he will answer my every prayer.

Tremble in awe before the Lord, and do not sin against him.

Be still upon your bed and search your heart before him.

Pause in his presence

Bring to Yahweh the sacrifice of righteousness and put your trust in him.

Lord, prove them wrong when they say, “God can’t help you!”

Let the light of your radiant face

break through and shine upon us!

The intense pleasure you give me

surpasses the gladness of harvest time,

even more than when the harvesters

gaze upon their ripened grain

and when their new wine overflows.

Now, because of you, Lord, I will lie down in peace and sleep comes at once,

for no matter what happens, I will live unafraid!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 4 (The Passion Translation)

my reading from the Bible for june 24, day 4 of Summer and day 175 of the year on a day where 152 shifts were completed on 3rd at Pridgeon & Clay making steel automotive parts of which mirrors the alphabetic number 152 of the trinity of words “two five six” and is seen as well in tomorrow’s date of the 25th of june [25.6]