#he had to experience death in order to be considered worthy

[ivandra-winters]

Watching the original version of Disney’s Pinocchio after studying developmental psychology is a bad idea, because the whole film is just…so terrible in terms of how everything is presented to Pinocchio. Like, he’s brought to life late at night, and in the span of 24 hours, he gets kidnapped twice and gets constantly manipulated by literally everyone around him, and then he’s punished for being manipulated.

“Oh, but he should’ve listened to Jiminy and done what he was told!” - Listen here, you son of a bitch, that poor puppet was brought to life and then expected to just go to school without any socialization or time spent with his father. That boy had no business going to school in the first place since he knew literally nothing and should’ve been acclimated to listening to Jiminy in the safety of his own home. Not only that, but Pinocchio continued to be punished for making choices despite the fact that literally nobody warned him about the dangers of trusting people he doesn’t know. He was never taught stranger danger, yet he kept getting punished for trusting people he had never been told not to trust. Also, nobody gave him a good reason to go to school? He was just expected to go because he was told to?

Bottom line is that Pinocchio kept getting let down by the authority figures in his life and was punished for it, and I’ve had enough of that-

[mythalism]

i feel like all of my pondering and analyzing and criticizing veilguard over the past few months has actually truly given me a better understanding of what dragon age meant to me, what about it specifically was so meaningful, and why, as a result, veilguard felt so wrong. it took a while for me to figure it out. about three full months of relentless essay writing, actually. but i think if you had asked me a few years ago what the core of my love for dragon age was, whatever answer i gave would not have truly gotten to the root of it, because i think i had to experience the disappointment of veilguard to fully understand why i love dragon age. and ive realized that core is that i loved how the previous dragon age entries demand so much of the player, and deliberately prompt introspection and critical, often political, thought.

dragon age games have historically forced the player to be self-reflective and introspective about their worldview and beliefs. solas is obviously a fantastic example, as he was deliberately written to be a reflection of the player in order to prompt them to reflect on how they treat people, how our expectations of people influence their behavior, and how people are pushed to extremes and turned into monsters or saved by love and kindness. how do people become monsters? what drives them to blow up buildings or start rebellions or destroy the world as you know it? are they right or wrong? does it even matter? how did you contribute to this? are you innocent? it puts these insane, politically and morally charged situations in your face and forces you to confront them. slavery, a refugee crisis, poverty, class disparities, racism, foreign occupation, the list goes on, and you are not given the option to look away or be a bystander. you have to ACT. you have to choose, you have to make judgements, you have to take responsibility and explore your role in this world as someone with the capacity to act upon it, to make your will a reality, to fail, to make mistakes. i honestly can't think of any other video game that does this to the same extent? nor any media at all because the act of being IN the world as one of it's people through the act of role-playing is essential to how it provokes this experience in the player. its ballsy. they deliberately try to make you uncomfortable. these games are full of liars, deceivers, betrayers. the games themselves lie to you. its character try to deceive you. did you catch it? or were you fooled? what else might you be fooled by? who else might be lying to you? in the game? in real life? and then you get to play it again knowing the end, and what the game prompts changes with your new knowledge. now it asks, do you forgive them? what makes someone worthy of forgiveness? where do you draw the line? what do you think?

i dont think i realized until recently how impactful this was for me considering how i first got into dragon age at 16 years old. i dont think i had experienced anything up to that point that would put a situation like judging a war criminal who ordered the deaths of children or another war criminal who just left me to die and orchestrated a near-coup or a traumatized terrorist who just blew up a church right in my face, and said MAKE A DECISION. and i didnt know it at the time, but looking back i can see how valuable it was for me at that age to have what was effectively an avenue of exploration and self-expression of all of these moral and political issues that i was grappling with as a young adult. i played inquisition for the first time just months before i voted in my first presidential primary. i already had a political consciousness at this point, but it was nonetheless new and vulnerable and still blossoming into something more concrete. inquisition, then, almost provided a sort of political, moral and personal sandbox for me from ages 16-20 to better help me understand myself in relation to the world. the RPG-ness allowed me to put myself into these situations - like the mage-templar war and its metaphor for mass incarceration and police brutality - while i was also simultaneously grappling with and trying to understand these issues in real life. having dragon age to help me further unpack my own beliefs and conception of these issues was undeniably impactful. it provided a space, through a narrative i enjoyed and cared about, to make choices and judgement calls and better understand who i was, and what felt right to me. it asked, "what do you think?"

veilguard lacks this. completely. and lets be clear that the previous games did not always do a perfect job. many of these depictions are messy and harmful and problematic, but they at least, by extension of their own existence in a narrative that forces you to THINK and JUDGE and DECIDE, give me the space and opportunity to judge them as messy, as problematic, as harmful. i can confidently say that i think da2 is too sympathetic to the templars as an organization because the fact that da2 presents me with so many narrative conflicts regarding the templar organization allows me to not just make in-game decisions and play as a staunch advocate for mage freedom and circle abolition, but to form opinions on the game itself by extension. i can confidently say that i believe the qunari's portrayal is islamophobic because the game has prompted me so many times; what do i think about the qunari? what do i think about the oppression of the elves? what do i think about dorian being a seemingly good person but defending the practice of slavery? who should rule orzammar; the progressive asshole or the conservative traditionalist? do i forgive loghain? do i forgive anders? do i forgive solas? this in-world critical thinking about issues in thedas leads to meta critical thinking. further questions naturally follow -> what message did the writers intend to send through anders? how can i notice the echoes of how this story came into fruition in the shadow of 9/11? what do solas's endings tell me about the writers view of retributive punishment? how is bioware's portrayal of the dalish, as inspired by indigenous north americans, reflective of deep-seated anti-indigenous canadian sentiment? why did the writers stop prompting these hard questions at all in veilguard? did they only like it when it was about characters, not when it led to critical thinking about them and the company as a whole? through these processes of in-world interrogation, i am inevitably invited to analyze the effectiveness of their narrative portrayals and the writing itself. perhaps this is why dragon age is so famous for its discourse lol.

ive said before that im not sure that veilguard could ever have been as impactful for me as the previous games, partly because when you are 16 everything is more impactful because your brain is an eager sponge, unless it did something that really resonated with me as an adult. but what it should have been, at the very least, is something that could have been as impactful and formative on a current 16 year old that sees a gif on tumblr and decides to check out the game, as inquisition was to me 10 years ago. and im sure there are teenagers and younger adults out there playing this game and loving it and loving the characters and the world and thinking its great, good fun. thats great. however it fundamentally cannot have the same profound, developmentally catalytic experience it had on me because it simply does not challenge the player. it does not prompt them to question their own beliefs and the power structures within their lives. it does not prompt them to reflect on the political narratives they may have been fed all their lives. it does not confront them with the sorts of topics that get books on banned lists in florida and force them to bear witness, to think deeper, to feel guilt or horror at the outcome of your own poorly-made decision, to make moral judgements, to make mistakes, and to live with the consequences.

i think i now understand why veilguard was so disappointing to me and ultimately would be a failure in my eyes no matter if i enjoyed the combat or the exploration or whatever other shiny coat of paint sits atop it. veilguard does not ask much of you. it does not prompt any sort of introspection or interrogation of your presently held beliefs. it does not demand anything from the player except to dodge at the right moment. this is a fundamental, core departure from what made me fall in love with dragon age in the first place. if you love dragon age because you want "fantasy escapism" and fun characters to smooch, then i am happy for you. but i would remind you that can find fantasy escapism all over the steam library - farming sims, cozy games, a witch looking for her cat in the alps, etc. what you cannot find are games that are willing and brave enough to challenge and provoke the player into a better, more thorough understanding of themselves in relation to our world and it's many, complex and daunting political and moral issues. to have lost such a thing, when media like this has become so few and far between, and during a time when we need it more than ever, is a devastating loss.

[vamphorica]

MellodraMattic and Queerness: An Essay

Before I begin, I need to make it clear that my thoughts on this subject are directly inspired by this post by overkeehl. I not only recommend but insist that you read it before continuing, as I am going to be exploring a small component of the greater idea that they have already established. Essentially, I am taking the idea of Mello's character being queer-coded and developing it in regards to how MellodraMattic becomes a very validating ship in the context of marginalised sexual and gender identities.

I am also going to touch on internalised queerphobia, so consider this as a warning if that's not something you fancy reading about.

Anyway.

Mello is a distinctly queer character. I don't say this from an entirely projective approach because I think there are plenty of examples throughout Death Note where Mello's visual presentation and characterisation signifies it. His androgyny is the most explicit indicator of nonconformity in relation to traditional gender expression. I fondly remember when I first read Death Note, aged ten, and was convinced that Mello was a girl for several pages. Suffice to say, Mello's appearance is rather ambiguous, making him an adaptable character for one to project queerness onto. We will go into more depth on this later on.

It is also worth mentioning that Mello's style is quite camp. I love the way he dresses and only wish I had the confidence to pull off his outfits, but they are also very ridiculous and inconvenient. One of my Top 10 Mello Moments Ever is when he tails Mogi and Misa, wearing this:

Those sunglasses are doing absolutely nothing to keep him out of sight, but I appreciate the fact that he obviously thinks otherwise. He simply must serve cunt to the detriment of the task at hand.

If I have not convinced you that his style alone is a good hint that he is a queer character, even in the most general sense of the term, there's plenty within Mello's character context that isn't exactly subtle in how he is portrayed as evidently nonconformist. I do think you have to be careful not to equate certain traits with queerness when it may not be appropriate to do so (after all, there's many characteristics relating to neurodiversity that can be identified in those who originated from Wammy's House, and while I won't get into the whole discussion about the overlap there because it's not my place to do so, I also think it would be an interesting subject to explore).

However, it is completely understandable why a lot of queer people see themselves in Mello. As a child, around the age that I think many begin to explore their sense of self, Mello's identity is ultimately threatened by L's death. He is confronted by the prospect of working with (accepting) Near in order to catch Kira. Instead, he runs away, and the narrative that follows is of a man tied up in complex feelings relating to his identity as a 'runner-up'. To put it simply, it conveys queer grief very well — Mello struggles with the fact that who he is as an individual does not align with the expectation that Wammy's House instilled in him from a young age. Similarly, some queer people may find that they must contend with accepting an identity they had been discouraged from exploring as children.

I think for many queer people seeing themselves in Mello, this sense of shame that can be identified as internalised homophobia or transphobia is unfortunately a common experience. It can take a long time to recognise, let alone challenge the societal standards that have been deemed 'normal' or 'correct'. Mello encapsulates this disconnect well in the sense that his goal to defeat Near as a means to prove himself as a worthy successor to L is doomed from the beginning. He was never meant to be the one to become L, and yet he runs straight to his demise in his desperation to receive recognition from an institution that he could never succeed within. I am not suggesting that all queer people go through this level of intense self denial when exploring their identities, but I think it ought to be appreciated that through Mello, there are a plenty of parallels that reflect the complexities of discovering your sexuality and gender identity.

Additionally, if you'll excuse me posting two rather grim examples of objectification in the manga, it is worth noting that Mello, in close proximity to two naked women, does not seem remotely interested in their bodies, which might suggest a queer identity on a very shallow level. I do think, given how misogynistic almost all the male (and some of the female) characters in Death Note can be, Mello is notable in the sense that he doesn't actively discriminate against the female characters. He treats both genders like shit. Feminist icon.

Mello is very easy to project an assortment of queer identities onto. For what it's worth, I headcanon him as bisexual and FtM, but I know you are not reading this essay for my personal projections. You can consider Mello as MtF, asexual, gay, nonbinary — all of these identities can easily be validated within the canon context because Mello is so versatile while still being a developed and nuanced character. His story mirrors so much of the struggle that queer people contend with, and while I think it is a massive shame that it isn't resolved, I think that in itself only exemplifies the complicated nature of identity.

So, where does Matt come into all of this?

It is important to remember that Matt as a character was created for Mello. In the main series, it isn't even mentioned that Matt is a Wammy's kid, this information only being revealed in 'Death Note 13: How to Read'. However, this is crucial knowledge because it conveys the very essence of what makes MellodraMattic so great.

I love Mello, I really do, but he is cruel and selfish, in addition to being arguably one of the most dangerous characters in the series. For those who might relate to him for any of the reasons I have given thus far, it is still important to understand that Mello is not a decent person. He is deeply flawed, and as much as I like to joke that his crimes are perfectly fine actually, I can still appreciate that he is not meant to be regarded as an 'good' character, even if he is on the right side as far as Kira is concerned. His behaviour is very much correlated with his sense of inferiority, so in this case, his identity struggles do not excuse his behaviour, but they can explain it.

Yet, despite all of this, Matt remains by his side, regardless. While there's a general consensus that the two were separated for some time after Mello ran away, they eventually reunite and work together. In these brief moments, we can still gain a good insight into their relationship dynamic from the way they speak to one another. For instance, Matt is cheeky in a manner that the reader would not expect Mello to tolerate. Yet the patience in how he responds to Matt's insolence almost appears uncharacteristic. I am of the belief that Mello is not a highly reactionary character, despite how the series tries to portray him as such, and this calm composure he is capable of can best be seen through his interactions with Matt.

There is a real familiarity between the two men that I don't think is comparable to any other relationship in Death Note. For example, in the image below, Matt is complaining about a task Mello has assigned him, one that isn't exactly difficult, and yet he's already distracted. Rather than get frustrated, a response we would expect from Mello, he answers Matt gently.

I appreciate these moments are few and far between (for fuck's sake, there's only two panels that feature the both of them) but I don't think I'm reading into it too much. I think they're genuinely suited for each other, which is, of course, because Matt was written for Mello. Their chemistry is dependent on the latter canonically.

Matt brings out the more approachable side of Mello because Mello does not see Matt as a threat that he must remain guarded around. If we as readers have become acquainted with Mello through his act of cruelty, albeit as a means of survival, we must assume Matt is familiar with this side of Mello, too. However, it doesn't deter Matt, nor does it scare him. Matt is completely loyal to the very end, and while such writing is perhaps a little superficial, I think it does emphasise the point that Mello has someone who will put his life on the line for him and God, I don't know. I think you have to read that as love to at least some extent.

Mello is a complicated character, with plenty of attributes suggesting that he is queer. This only further contributed to his plot line that centres an identity struggle, which speaks to those who fall outside of cishetnormativity. Unable to reconcile his sense of self with the expectations placed upon him, Mello becomes ruthless. Yet, in spite of these flaws, he has Matt. He represents a kind of hope, I think, that those who connect to Mello through his queerness and subsequent struggles can gravitate towards. A hope that there's someone who will accept every aspect of your identity regardless, that there will be someone you can be yourself around.

To me, MellodraMattic is my favourite ship because I love Mello and Matt, and the way in which they interact with one another. It is also that initial identification with Mello, that makes Matt's character and their relationship more meaningful, an example of the fact that there'll always be someone who not only accepts, but loves you, regardless of the mess.

I think that's beautiful. 🍫🎮

[the-monkeies-girl]

Chimp Mosh Pit. ( Noa x Human! Reader. ) Part 10.

*Bad Ape voice* ohhhhh noooooo.

Title: Chimp Mosh Pit. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Violence, weapons used, Ape Aggression, mentions of blood, intense moments of being on deaths door step. Good luck. ) Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Words: 7.1K+ Summary: Remember when you said Death brought new beginnings? READ THE SERIES HERE.

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There was one thing that was clearer than the river Noa and you enjoyed time and time again as a peaceful offering between Echo and Ape. Something that ran through the land like splitting opinions, slicing its torrent edges against an already weak sediment, taking advantage of the submission of dirt and claiming it as their own with a flush of moisture; a fighter in its own way that was never known to either of you as you thought it to be tame, soothing and gentle like the Clan itself. The Eagle Clan were not combative. Surely, there was the juxtaposition that they inherently were from being Apes, more powerful in countless other aspects than just strength to their Echo counterparts. 

But Noa knew --- at least he tried to convince his racing mind, the tenderizing of his flesh from another fist ghosting over his rib cage for a moment as if the male Ape were lost in the time that floated between then and now, scattering memories of your gazes, your hands near his own, the red seeping from his nose, the snarling of teeth flushed with his gargling saliva and iron-tasting blood…  Noa needed to remember how it felt to be pulverized in order to learn, in order to garner attention from you, sending a spiral of fear to radiate down his entire spine, down to his legs where he told himself he needed to keep standing and to not run away. 

What… If he never did? What if he never got you to look at him with those eyes that said more than anything that was ever said before? 

Your scent was still powerful, rising and falling into his nose like you were basking in front of him on a hot day, your chest wildly adorned with sweat as he watched a few droplets fall beneath the bridge of your breast, obscured by fabric as you flashed him a smile that was undetectable, your eyes knowing that he had been watching the delectation of moisture build up against your skin, feeling so envious that it got to caress you in the ways that he wanted to, how Noa yearned to leave a trail of his own spit morbidly against any crevice you would let him sink into.

The Clan seemed such a tack-note to him, shame rising at the idea that he’d let them burn it down now if it meant he could run towards you, to find where Soona had taken you, just to bargain against your unconscious, emotionless face… Wake up for me, please… I let you go once, I will never do it again… 

All you need to do…

Was.

Wake.

Up.

For me.

From his travels with Raka and the other Echo he had experienced, having to defending himself against the likes of a Bonobo who had many more years of experience, having to stand up for his Clan who considered him not worthy of the title Master of the Birds, it was clear in the way they looked at him compared to his Father, Noa needed to remember. How often he wondered if he’d ever set a standard like that with his own hands, with his own mind but it seemed impenetrable until he came out victorious once and he was suddenly engorged with power he didn't know how to yield, and having fought a Tyrant King only to burden a crown twice as heavy.

But, he thought back to it and looked at Anaya next to him, sharing an all knowing glance of self-preservation, knowing they were both on the same wavelength, a sure fire way to know that they were born within a blazing sunset, they shared their feelings without having to verbalize, they emoted their consciousness by sharing a stare, nothing more, green digging into more green that in itself, held the answer to everything, held the fire that was needed to come out victorious. In unison, they both looked back towards the threat. 

This was a fight intended for two Apes and a group of six Echo, their weapons unknown but surely tucked away, disguised and waiting, bloodthirsty for the moment where they got to taste flesh and bone. Anything - Noa’s eyes flickered against the horse, anything there, tied to the rear of the animal in the bags it carried heavily against it side sadistically, the dangling of a dagger against the female Echo in the forefront for his vision, it was placed on her chest, wrapped around her neck like a piece of ceremonious jewelry, flashing Noa to think of the necklaces his Father wore, so mild in their design, but so powerful and spoke words that did not need to be spoke. His stomach turned.

Anything could be used against them, Noa knew but was his mind able to comprehend such details in the midst of a fight? Would his instincts finally rest themselves against his diaphragm so he could fight to defend what was his?

Noa felt a subversive and uncomfortable notion resting inside of him, something that consecutively played against his greatest weakness and years of self-deprecating comparisons to his Father - He felt confident. Something that made the bile rise in the back of his throat, and no amount of swallowing was going to get it to go away so he opted to growl towards the male in a display of power, in a way that told him that he was going to adversely rip the very emotions off his face and hold them in his hand as a victory, blood spearing against Noa and marking him a capable Leader of the finest order, a monster in all regards, tongue sweeping over sharpened canines as he’d beam at the crunch the Echo body would make upon impact on the ground. 

Such gruesome thoughts flashing before him that he couldn’t get out of the forefront of his vision--- Your eyes swollen shut, mouth ajar with bloodied saliva falling from it, the fragile bob of your head, Noa wanting nothing more than to take it into his hands, flashing him back in time to the moments when you complained about your neck being sore after sleeping weird --

Such thoughts tangling with the aggression in his beating skull were all he needed. He knew Anaya could do this, there was no lack of confidence in his friend being more agile and a bit of a showoff at times and he was aware that it was a brilliant tactic to use in a fight against already intelligent Echo’s who probably had their own aberrant plan of what they were going do. 

Noa was an intellectual fighter, using things available to him instead of brute strength, something that rested uneasily in the taut muscles of his body, not fully used to the potential he wanted but that was more due to strength never needing to be used extensively in hand-to-hand combat.

He had--- His leafy gaze caught eyes with the female and he felt his mouth drop at the pure malice that dripped from her darkened irises as she stared right back at him, like a black queen on her throne she pierced down at him from the saddle of her horse. Noa had played his nature as an Ape once before, something that should make him a good fighter along the tree of life, and it cost his Fathers life and half the village, the countless that were lost then and then more that were lost in the aquatics when Mae blew up the dam holding back water.

Chimps… Could not swim, his hands grazing against bodies in the water as he tried to fight for the rest of them, knowing he had caused deaths in himself and in others. He’d lost Raka to the same force of nature, he had lost many of his Clan, and he was bargaining now inside of his mind how many could be lost by another element as he caught wind of the smoke blowing from the torches the Echo’s held, getting a mouth full of a disgusting tweed from the hut that had already been set on fire. 

Once again, he thought to himself and drew a hard breath in through his nose, the Eagle Clan were peaceful Apes - They never had a reason to fight other Apes, let alone an Echo pack. He was smart - that was the only confidence that was seeping from his pores, the rest of the notions were all superficial and ungrazed, unused and made Noa want to hunch in on himself near his Fathers grave and apologize once more for not being able to stop the infliction of destruction.

Dilated green eyes, eclipsed like the moon that beckoned in on a scheduled basis in the sky, sank into the male and tracing any lines of intellect that he was able to detect. There was nothing for him to analyze there, his mind racing at the prospect that were were some Echo’s whose eyes were unreadable - Unlike.. Noa’s hand balled into a fist before relaxing again at his side, waiting to sign to Anaya that it was time. 

Unlike your eyes. 

Noa’s hackles rose upon his shoulders at the scope of them captivating his own in a wild dance that he didn't know the steps to, breathing more rapid fire than before as he prepared his body, the muscles rippling from the aspect that he was more than likely going to get hit, leaving an undertone of uncomfort to lift in his mind along with the fur of his body. Noa’s fingers flexed at his side. 

‘Go.’

Anaya was the first to lunge forward, all four appendages ripping at the ground below and tearing Earth a few inches into the air before it collapsed back down, sad against its comrades as it had been destroyed. Tearing through the resistance of the air without a reserve, teeth bared and a large growl. Noa - Stagnant for a moment watched, entranced, envious that Anaya was… Not scared. 

So many times he was even scared at a ladybug that once crawled onto his forehead and fluttered its tiny wings against his leathery skin. Absolutely carnage, he managed to take down the female Echo’s horse with such ease kicking the legs out from under its weight with a skid against the dirt, Anaya’s fur delicately traced with sediment now on one side from the audacity of the action itself. The animal itself pained and Noa felt a shred of empathy for them as they hit the ground, straggling along with the Echo that went down with it. Without reserve, the provisions on the back of her horse, strapped so tightly, were scattered, a testament to just how hard his friend had hit. 

The animalistic abomination Anaya had in her hair has his long fingers tangled in, giving way into leverage as he began dragging her through the dirt, her hands reaching up to struggle against it as her feet splayed outwards in some desperate way to get him to stop, skirting the heels of her worn boots into the dirt that was imprinting her scraped body, bloody screams taking hold into the air as Noa sensed Soona’s return as she began the proper evacuations of the Eagle Clan with assistance from his Mother as the flames of the one hut tore itself against the flush field around the Colony and had its set gaze on the large embankment of huts that surrounded the Eagle Enclosure and the towering nests of the families.

Noa tired to focus on the situation at hand, knowing that the two female Apes would do what they could to get everyone out in time with the help of the Elders. He couldn’t find it in himself to worry about that in the middle of a fight. Noa turned his focus to Anaya once more and felt salivation hit his tongue at the primal intent that the Ape was displaying. It was like there was utmost satisfaction paid towards Anaya’s curiosity to the extreme of what it felt like to hold such power. Hard to bring down other Apes, easy to take down Echo’s and all their fragility. 

Noa snapped out of his self-doubt at that moment when he touched base on… That’s how it must have been for you, struggling to fight against a beast whose strength was going to tear you apart, the twigs that ended up in your hair, smearing blood and dirt into the finer details of your face and hair, your screams… Wondering when it was going to end, when the blunted weapon that knocked you unconscious would take your last breath.

Noa… Hated himself that you ended up like that, gargling on your own blood, your eyes unable to see what was happening to you as you scraped your hands in front of you in a last ditch effort to save yourself from being killed. 

He’d kill them just for looking at you, that thought radiating and taking hold of all of his senses, the tips of his fingers tickling himself in excitement, his breathing hard and fast through his nose as Noa yearned to do nothing more than to bare his teeth. The Ape would wait for that - Until this man was under his foot, pressing him down into the depths of the Earth itself, to burn under Noa’s weight as he crushed his rib cage first, hoping the bones would fall inwards and puncture his lungs. Only then… Would he smile at them. Give them the satisfaction of knowing that they had played a game against an Ape who wanted an eye for life. Not an eye for an eye, otherwise Noa would just beat them to a bloody pulp and let them leave.

 He was going to kill the Echo just to seek some revenge, knowing that the guilt of letting you leave in the first place was more of the reason he was fighting. For every cry you gave, he imagined some towards Noa himself, some towards the heavens as you begged for it to end, to be over so you could fall asleep and never recollect the terror you had been through. No one, Noa growled, his chest broadening in strict possession and acute aggravation. No one would lay a hand on you again, no one would make you cry out of anything other than exhalation or pleasure, those only reserved for Noa. He twisted his neck, the muscles primed for him and he peered at the prospect in front of him.

The large Chimp, primed to look bigger than usual by the swagger of his shoulders in conjecture with the muscles of his biceps, took a step forward, toes digging hard into the ground as he began to drive himself forward with intense and scrutinizing leverage, staring straight at the male in front of him, knowing now that he was not going to take the same route as Anaya by taking down the fragile horse first. Noa was going to go straight for the source of the problem itself.

Yes, this female Echo, thrown against the side of another hut out of the corner of Noa’s vision as Anaya brought his fist down directly onto her sternum, had to have been what happened, he was sure of it, falling onto all fours, the Echo male touching the holster on the right side of his body in anticipation. He may think he was fast, but was he faster than Noa? The question tickled the back of his mind and he wanted nothing more than to get that answer to soothe that intent of knowledge. 

The lunge he took forward was disgusting in all descriptions of the word, Noa felt like his teeth were going to shatter themselves into tiny shards inside of his mouth and he’d be forced to swallow them all in a nice grit. The shout - It was something that Noa himself found terrifying, not recognizable to his own ears as it tore through the entire Clan, captivating a few other Apes in their escape, including Anaya who looked over at him for just a split second, blood now falling from his mouth as he had torn into the female Echo he was working on, directly into her throat and tore it clean out of her body, the muscles being spit out and discarded wildly to now be coated with dirt as it rolled onto the ground.

Licking at it, he looked down at her with vicious intent, praised at himself and sought his next target, the other female, who having seen what happened to her fellow Echo, only peered in fear as Anaya drew closer, the color leaving her body as she went to grab a blunted iron staff from the hold it had against her back.

Noa’s body slammed against the male Echo without reserve, taking him down to the ground below and kissed the palm of his hand in a smear as Noa’s hand forced him down eat dirt, trying to control the struggle the horse found as they were knocked off balance, legs flailing and Noa wanted to break them all in a way to get the unabashed movement to stop under him. He relented that control, feeling the sick twist of Echo skin under his calloused touch as the male he had his fingernails dug into grunted, but did not fight back.

Noa shouted at them, right into their ear in a bid to get them to do something against him. Where was the satisfaction in killing an Echo when they did not fight back? Flurried eye contact was made with the other male a few meters away, Noa crushing the skull of one and peering right in front of him at the other, canines showing themselves only once now in a warning to him. He’d kill him if he came any closer.

He’d rip that beating jugular right out in the name of the Eagle Clan itself. No one hurt him, no one hurt his Echo, no one hurt his Clan, his people and sanctuary. Coming down harder, his entire weight pressed down on the male he had under him and Noa skirted him enough away from the horse, the male's feet mimicking the actions of the horse almost down to the tee to completely render the flailing useless as they managed to get onto their feet and run off. 

Thunder hit the male Apes ears, Anaya frenzied from his tussle with the female looking up at the sound he had only heard once before in his life. Noa’s eyes glancing up at the completely clear sky, save from the dancing twinkles of the stars as they joined the moon on their nightly ventures. No clouds… Noa grunted, collapsing first onto his knees as he tried to salvage his balance but found himself unable as if gravity itself were failing the very concepts that held items to Mother Earth. He fell forward, hard as a bellow of dirt encapsulated him, drifting downwards onto his fur. With his face pressing into the ground, Noa ripped a growl straight from the depths of his throat, mimicking that same noise he had heard only moments ago in a display of fevered intensity, swallowed whole by agony pilling itself in the forefront of his mind. 

His eyes almost admired the way that his blood, slick in nature by the saliva that was coating the redness itself, dribbled off his chin and onto the ground below, creating a mixture of concrete from the only hit that Echo managed to get onto his face on the way down from the toppling horse, not even noticeable in the moment to the Ape as adrenaline tore away at his pain receptors. Where Noa landed was hard and cold as the night that encased the trees of the landscape and instinctually, he was quick to get himself up before but faltered and collapsed again. Dirt ran into his mouth and stuck grossly to his tongue, trying to swallow it down was pained in itself. 

There was something lodged in his shoulder blade, near the tendon itself that felt like it was ricocheting to the left and right at a quickened pace, breathing with the air that he was taking into his lungs and Noa convinced himself to slow that down before the very muscles of his shoulder came into the open air as it felt that they were going to snap themselves apart and counteract upwards. Specifically the right shoulder as inflicted, rendering it mildly useless in the scape of things. What was an Ape without their most valuable weapons, fists? 

Noa hadn’t seen what hit him, and when he looked towards the spot on his shoulder inflicted with panic setting into his chest, causing his breathing to pick up as he shouted out, there was nothing there other than the seeping of his blood, mixing into the already darkened nature of his fur, trickling down through the finer parts closer to his skin, down his bicep and soon to encase his outer forearm. His arm shattered as he attempted to put in weight on it, yelping in defenselessness as he crashed onto the ground once again.

The Echo… in front of him. Noa bared his teeth against the ground. He had a weapon. Something Echo. Something… His green eyes forced themselves to drag upwards, only catching the gleam of something metallic and black in the Echo’s hand before it was put back into the side pouch against his skinny hip. 

There was no way that he’d miss an arrow or even a spear. Too big, the momentum would have been torn to shreds by the vision that was granted to him in the sake of defense. Noa cried out, yelling at himself to get up as more of his blood seeped onto the ground below his usually broad body, torn into itself in this moment as a thrust of agony ran through his entire right side, all the way down to the elongated nature of his spaced out toes.

The disgusting smell of his own blood hit his senses, cascading around the back of his mind in a relentless call to pick himself up and to continue fighting. He--- Noa cried, pressing his forehead into the dirt and giving himself a ceremonious kiss to the Earth in a bid for her to help him stand. He couldn’t…

Teeth gritted together, the sound dulling out the screams of the Eagle Clan as another flame tore through their trenches. He closed his eyes for only a moment before reopening them to find Anaya. Anaya… Noa wanted to whimper and get himself up enough to crawl over to his friend, unconscious having taken a blunt hit to the side of his head from the female as she was now rising to her feet, wiping her mouth of blood and looked at Noa directly, admiring the wound on his shoulder that glimmered wetness.

Noa wanted to grasp him, to pull him closer and to tell him that he was sorry, that this was all of his fault… The demise of their clan, years of generations, years of culture and traditions, were now soaring free in the sky as their Eagles took off from the Enclosure in search of sanctuary elsewhere. Some followed their owners, others cried in desperation as their owners were unable to be detected in the absolute frenzy. Green irises finally rested against fire as it brought its flames upon the perch of the Eagle Enclosure. The wood, sap and rudimentary but sophisticated building was engulfed without remorse, a strangled cry raked his entire body. No… No… Noa tried to move forward, slumping his body in an unnatural contort as his feet pushed his upper half against the dirt, now mixing with the soot and ash of devastation. Not again. NOT AGAIN! His forehead pressed against the ground as he began shaking, his muscles falling in on themselves and without warning, Noa’s back was crushed downwards, stopping all his movements by the male he had begun this fight with. 

All breath left Noa’s chest as he felt the back of his ribcage explode with misery as it was pressed beyond its abilities. There was a sharp snap as he took another breath in, the entire weight of the Echo being placed, a boot imprint leaving itself on the back of his fur as the male finally relented and sought to crouch down next to Noa. 

“Can’t even fight like a damn Ape,” He spat, reaching around Noa’s forearm, upwards to his bicep and tore the band that laid there right off, hopeful that maybe there’d be some fur that was with it as a trophy. Another one destroyed, another step in the right direction. Noa wheezed, unable to breath but managed himself to look towards the man who began playfully sipping Noa’s arm band on his pointer finger while the other raised up and wiped under his nose, taking in the adornment of red against his flesh.

“You got a few good hits, gotta give it to you.” Rations of liquid seeped into Noa’s lung the moment he was kicked onto his side, the pressure of the movement rounding his entire being into a state of pure shock. “Watch your little town, Ape. Watch it burn to the ground and know that we’re gonna take back this godforsaken planet by any means necessary. And your little pet? She’s still alive somewhere in the woods. I think I’ll find ‘er.” Noa’s eyes widened as tears began physically falling from his eyes. Rare for a Chimp, but not impossible. You--- No…

He grunted to say something but nothing but a gurgle took hold in his throat as he spat out a bit of blood. 

“Make sure she knows I destroyed everything she fought to hide from me, her poor little cries. Wouldn’t tell me where you were, she’s quite a fighter.” A smirk. 

Eyes twitched in a desperate plea to fight more but Noa was unable to tangle himself into any sort of stance other than the sweeping of his gaze against the village, Soona looking at him from across the field, before tearing her sight on Anaya who was still unconscious. She was panicked, it was evident and she didn't know which to go after. Anaya, or Noa.

Growling, she handed a baby Bonobo to Dar as they were still evacuating into the woods and chose Anaya. Drag him away, get him to safety and return to help Noa. Her feet were fastened, she needed to be quicker than the breeze that ran through the desolate Eagles in the sky before Noa was killed. Noa understood - He’d have done the same thing, he thought pensively and let his eyes shut. 

“I really tortured her to get her to just tell us where your lil’ monkey clan was, should have heard her scream.” Swiping his teeth with his tongue, he held his hand out as the other male came forward and handed him that same metallic and black weapon. Noa’s eyes widened in recognition. He had no name for it now, he couldn’t recall in the moment if Mae ever told him what it was, if he was ever told what it was by anyone in the village. The stocky and short shaft of the item pressed against Noa’s head, cold.

He’d seen what it did to one of Proximus’ followers. Whatever projectile this flung out was stuck in his shoulder. Whatever was inside was going to throw Noa into the darkness where he was going to remain.

“Such a waste of screams, honestly. If she had just told us where you were, she’d probably be more alive than she is now, my friends here really did a number on her when she tried to get onto her horse to warn you.”

Squeezing his eyes shut now, Noa heard Eagle Sun's distinctive cry coming from above. He was ready. You were out there, teetering on the line and would succumb, Echo’s were a lot more fragile and the hits he knew, without proper care immediately, were going to cause extensive damage and you’d give up despite being stubborn beyond belief. With his actions, the whole of the Eagle Clan would be lost. With his last breath, just a whisper to the Eagles above and to the Apes in the surrounding forest. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you. 

Noa reached out a hand and let his eyelids flutter open for a moment and he felt your grazing fingertips against his palm. He reacted as such, bringing his fingers in slowly to hold onto you. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you. 

Thunder. Multiple splits like the sky were opening up for his departure from the Earth.

Noa drew a deep breath in and expected to open them to nothing but a wilderness of white as he was torn away from his conscious body into oblivion. Something, something… Slowly, eyes opened to peek at what was beyond death. Was he going to see his Father? Koro? 

He sobbed lightly at that, flooding his vision with tears. He wanted to… He wanted to apologize to him for all of this, for being so weak and for… Not being the Son that the Master of Birds deserved. Noa wanted the embrace of his Father’s hands against his face as they were brought together to kiss foreheads and he wanted him to know that he fought with all he had, how was he meant to be predestined to win against the ardent use of unfair warfare used by Echo’s who saw them as nothing but threats?

Noa sobbed again, this time harder when there was weight suddenly thrusted on top of him, harder than he needed and crushed his ribs even further into his body. 

Noa swore to the heavens now that… He’d heard your voice. Soothing and calling for him. You were there! In the deep midnight and you were telling him to come join. That you’d forgive him if he just opened his eyes and looked at you. The weight was taken off of him, the last adornment before the sweet kiss of death, an Eagle perched atop him, came in with intent to take him under their wing. Yes… He wanted nothing more than your hands against him, his back falling flat onto the ground as he peered into the night sky, the stars drawing him in through the rush of moisture in his eyes that obscured the finer details. Take me. My Echo… My… Beautiful screaming Echo.

“Noa, you ne-need to look at me.” Ah, your voice again and he found himself tilting his head into the caress that your hands suddenly had on his head, blood drawing his line of vision for a moment as you smeared it against his cheeks, a bid to get him to keep his head straight instead of lulling to the side in defeat. 

 “NOA!” Digging your knees into the ground, you tried to ignore the sensation of absolute ripping coming from your calves that you had managed to tie into a tourniquet to get the bleeding to subside with the dull leather of the belt you had. Grime was dug deeply into your fingernails, a silent prayer to the landscape that you just transferred your body against, at least fifty meters of terrain, hard and unforgiving under your weight. A want to defend what was yours to the bitter end. If you fell on the way there as death knocked on you, then fine, so be it, as long as you made an effort to try.

You had woken up alone after hearing the vaguest of ‘sorry’ from Soona as your head was delicately placed against the ground. Not that you could blame her once realization and horror dawned on you at the sight of a dim fire consuming the woods near you, you’d have done the same thing. Gone to protect your own people instead of a lifeless Echo who meant nothing. 

Your hands had torn the male you had shot away from Noa, watching as the bodies of the other Humans lay bare in rapid succession as you impressed yourself with your remarkable aim with swollen eyes, only able to get yourself planted on the ground long enough to actually pull the trigger of the gun that was thrown against the ground as soon as the bullets were spent.

Had they been paying attention, you beamed at yourself for just a moment as you collapsed back down and made your way towards Noa, using your forearms to scoot yourself as your legs were ultimately rendered useless now after trying to stand on such a sustained injury, you had taken one of their primal weapons and tucked it into the waistband of your pants when they had attacked you before.

Stupid Echo, you joked and let a chortled cry radiate through you as you tried to garner Noa’s eyes into your own, your hands caressing the sides of his face, sweeping over the indentation of the bullet into his shoulder.  It was like he was in your own head saying it now as you cried, your tears falling onto his face into a mixture of salt and iron. 

Stupid Echo always leave most vulnerable spots open. 

How you hated that he was right… Fingertips trailed against the fine wrinkles around his nose that were less prominent than they usually were as he was not holding himself conscious. “Noa, you need to wake up, I can-can’t carry you on my own, I don-don’t know where Soona went or where Anaya is, I can---” You tapered as a cry hit your throat at the idea that you were too late and that he was going to be unable to come to, unable to help you. 

Glancing down at your mangled calves, you came to terms that you were going to need to use the torn apart muscles there to get him dragged away from the fires that were rapidly consuming around you. Please, please… You told your legs, please just give me enough to do this and you can take me to death's door step after… Please… 

“I need to save him…” You verbalized, words thrown in on themselves with agnostic punches of air as you were unable to find it in yourself to calm the rapid rise and fall of your shoulders. 

Noa reached up, grasping your forearm for only a second before it dropped onto his chest. You scrambled, gasping as he finally coughed under you, his eyes trying to bring themselves into focus, you dug your hands into the fur lining his face and brought your forehead in towards his own, kissing only for a second in a flurry. He was alive, you brought your eyes to squeeze shut and force the tears away as they were now mixing disgustingly with the mud on your face. “Noa, you need to get up.” That was said against his lips, your face so near in proximity that you appeared cross-eyed. “Echo.” “I know, they---” You brought your face down and pressed it into his chest above where his arm now rested, only pulling back once he winced at the sensation of you being so close to him. I-- Couldn… Couldn’t… Stop them… They…”

Noa’s eyes finally fluttered fully open as he coughed aggressively, blood slipping out of the corner of his mouth that you wiped away without hesitation to cup the side of his face once you pulled yourself from his chest, tucking an arm under his neck to keep him leveraged so he wouldn’t drown on himself. “This… all my fault, the Clan… Yo.. You’re so hurt… I tried they…” 

“(Name).” The sound of your name from him rocketed your senses back to reality instead of pitiful groveling like you had been. His eyes were no longer open.

“Yes, it’s me…” You whispered, your fingers drawing themselves against the wrinkles of his face once again as you braced him against you, slickness smearing itself onto your clothing without reserve and in some sick twisted way, with his blood now seeping into your skin, this was the closest you had ever been to him. You always wanted to touch them, touch his face, but not like this.

Early morning after he took you for the first time would have been the preference, your hands lightly tracing what you had wanted to seek for so long… Something in you hoped that your touch alone was going to revive him but you knew that to be wishful thinking but it persisted when you dragged your fingers down towards his mouth and traced the lines of his lips. Say my name for me, say anything for me…

You tried to hold his head just a bit more, “Noa you need to get up, we need to get out of here before the fire comes. I--- I won’t leave you here again, but you need to help me.” A promise was made in that moment as he willed himself to try, his shoulders moving rather loosely as you tangled yourself into him, prepared to take the full force of his weight against your shins. 

“Soona---” “I th-think she’s-helping the Clan---” Noa let out a thunderous roar this time, regretting it immediately once it left his body as he slumped back once again and you were forced to catch him before he racketed onto the ground again. “SOONA!”

It felt like moments later, she was there; Soona’s eyes frantic as she looked at you, amazement clearly there that you were not dead where she had left you. Only a moment of an apologetic glance as you whispered to her, “I-I can’t lift him on my own, he’s--- I need to get him away from here to get the bullet out of his shoulder otherwise he’s going to die.” 

You were remarked on your ability to speak so clearly, chalking it up to the fact that you were face to face with death anyway and the adrenaline was causing the muscles of your jugular to pound crazily, your heart running itself away from the idea that he could die from the wounds inflicted on him. “Please.” You needn’t bother with formalities, Soona wanted to tell you as she dropped herself next to you, fixating on your legs and their physical state. “I know you can’t carry both of us. Get him out of here, don’t worry about me anymore. I-I’ll get myself out of here, I’m quite a crawler.”  It was a joke meant to lighten the mood as you felt the heat of flames against your back, “Crawled all the way over here by myself.” To say goodbye.

Letting your hand rest on Noa’s head, you petted the fur backwards and admired the scar that Eagle Sun had left him. The Ape accepted the affection unabashedly and tilted into it, your eyes staring down at him for only a moment thinking of what could have been if the circumstances were different. Both could have been happy… The pleasure of knowing what Noa felt like against you, not in a moment of death, but in a moment of ecstasy, your mouth drifting over his own as you told him how much you… You loved him.

Stumbling over yourself, you choked on your own self-pity thinking about the first time you had admitted that you loved him, the first time the idea sprung in the back of your head. Just another day where something lit inside of you, Noa giving you only one glance that lasted longer than any of the others, lips piling themselves into a small smile just for you…

“Will send someone to come get you.” Soona’s voice was rushed with reassurance as she moved to get Noa, taking him from your grasp and leaving you only with the imprint of his body left against your shirt, pants and hands. “Promised To Noa… keep His Echo… safe.” There was a twinge in your heart at that as your fingers left him as she rose to stand. Your hands dangled in the air for a moment before you dropped them slowly. “Thank you….” Voice barely a touch above a whisper, you smiled slightly at her which she returned with a softened gaze before it hardened in focus to hike Noa up with her. 

You hoped Soona was right that someone would come get you, your legs were numb and you were tired from pulling yourself to see him. So tired… Your eyelids felt so heavy, the blurring of the fire behind you deeply entrancing just to roll into. So… tired… The same feeling rushed into your chest like when you were first found by Noa, Soona and Anaya. Acceptance… No more bargaining, as you were ready to see your friends again, ready to meet Koro and tell him how amazing his Son truly was.  

You smiled to yourself with a huff, feeling the cut on your lip split open with one more lingering thought. He was going to be a great Leader, and he was going to rebuild and prosper, with or without you. Who needed a pesky little Echo?

Falling onto your knees as best you could, you tried to scramble yourself to stand but to no avail and drooled onto the ground as you came to rest on your stomach, face down in the dirt as Noa had been when you arrived.  It was a choice you were making, knowing that Soona was only able to carry one of you safely without risking the other to more injuries or even death and Noa was falling into a state of unconsciousness.

Your bit about getting the bullet out earlier was only telling Soona what she needed to do once he was safe, nothing more. Your fingers would no longer touch him. She wanted to speak on it, but you had accepted that this was the way things were meant to be as flames hit your cheeks from a few meters away. She needed to help Noa, their leader, and not what Noa’s interests were.

Death, you thought, always brought new beginnings and you hoped that to be true with all your might as you watched Soona carry Noa once your head tilted in that direction, the last action you felt you were able to bring yourself to do. Need… To look at him, see him one more time… You told the reaper above you, just give me that, please… His feet staggering against the ground, hard and rough as Soona herself struggled to keep him situated against her own body. You’d have always died for him, you felt like it was destined.

One way or another, somewhere in the multitude of the universe, you being nothing more than a speck to anyone else, were an entire world for an Ape. A Chimpanzee. Your heart, you wished you'd protected it a bit more but still... At the end of the day that was more than okay to perish in flame for.

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[maisbookstore]

Tobirama's birthdays - part 1

Tobirama Senju x fem! reader

Genre: angst, eventual comfort

Warning: blood, ooc Tobirama, grammar mistakes

Keywords: childhood trauma, workaholic Tobirama, arranged marriage, Warring States era, slow burn

A short description: Tobirama Senju never celebrated his birthday, he had no time for it. Also, he never fell in love, yet he agreed to follow his father's wishes upon marrying Y/n from C/n, and suddenly his world turns upside down.

A quote from the fanfiction:

"On a cold February night a white headed baby found his way to be born into hell; with his loud battlecry the small newborn made sure, that others sense his presence. Scarlet eyes had scanned his surroundings, as if the baby was making sure that he was born in the right place and time; then he latched into his mother’s nutritious milk and so that Tobirama Senju’s life has begun.

The young Senju was not the oldest among his ever-growing family; his older brother-Hashirama- was a kind, yet insanely talented boy, who he could look up to- though their personalities differed greatly. Hashirama took life less seriously, he was able to joke around, show his emotions-much to their father’s distaste. Meanwhile Tobirama has grown up to be more rational and less gentle- perhaps to impress his father, or maybe he was just born this way."

Being born in the Warring States Period was good news: it meant more swords on the battlefield, more power –especially if one was part of such a famous clan as the Senju, and more allies- due to arranged, political marriages. Life and death meant nothing during that blood stained era- shinobi have been falling like mere flies, if one was able to live above their twenties, it was considered a sign of immense power- or luck.

On a cold February night a white headed baby found his way to be born into hell; with his loud battlecry the small newborn made sure, that others sense his presence. Scarlet eyes had scanned his surroundings, as if the baby was making sure that he was born in the right place and time; then he latched into his mother’s nutritious milk and so that Tobirama Senju’s life has begun.

The young Senju was not the oldest among his ever-growing family; his older brother-Hashirama- was a kind, yet insanely talented boy, who he could look up to- though their personalities differed greatly. Hashirama took life less seriously, he was able to joke around, show his emotions-much to their father’s distaste. Meanwhile Tobirama has grown up to be more rational and less gentle- perhaps to impress his father, or maybe he was just born this way.

On his tenth birthday, the white haired boy celebrated on the battlefield; his sword was clashing with other swords and his newly learned techniques have killed many enemies. Tobirama was a capable shinobi and a good fighter, specialized in water style jutsus. The battle’s duration was a few hours-as always. No one said “Happy Birthday” to him...

Sometimes he wished Hashirama and he would be more similar, so that he could convey his feelings- the ones he repressed for so long- but Hashirama was Hashirama, and he was him; nothing could change it, Tobirama’s supposed role was to be the brain in the Senju family. Always learning, experimenting, and emptying his twisted thoughts while creating new jutsus- in order to kill more in the name of peace.

 Naturally, the young Senju was aware that one clan cannot bring the desired result, so he turned to politics at the ripe age of 17, talking to other clans, making worthy connections, finding allies- but for his dismay the mighty Uchiha did the same. The war was rushing in full speed to an inevitable zenith. Everything seemed desperately hopeless as more souls left their earthy bodies behind, leaving blood streaks and broken hearts during their leave. The Senju clan was not spared of these tragic events- two boys have been buried in the blood soaked ground. Luckily- Tobirama thought- his older brother was a strong one, maybe he could live up to even thirty with his power.

On his 18th birthday the white haired young man was facing an unavoidable problem: he was an adult now- and though many decided to marry in their teens, Tobirama was not like that- meaning, he could no longer prolong the task: he needed a bride.

Butsuma had found a suitable girl long ago, who was of an ally clan, but since she was the only girl in her family, the parents didn’t want to marry her off so soon. Tobirama initially thought that this was a ridiculous argument; who wouldn’t want to place the “burden” on another, more powerful clan? The Senju could protect that poor girl better than anyone, so why would these people hesitate so much?

“Let’s get this over with” –he thought with a sigh as the Senju and the C/n have decided to sit through another few hours, debating about Y/n’s fate.

As always, her parents were adamant...

-...She’s just 15, for God’s sake, I can not hand you a 15 year-old girl, she’s not even an adult. How can you expect her to give birth to children, when she’s barely a child? –Her mother cried out with rage, as her father nodded vehemently.

-Just give her some time, yeah? 3 years. Then she can marry your son.

Butsuma sent a sharp glare to the already scared girl, who- despite her anxiety- stood his glare.

-My wife was 14 when we married, and within 2 years she gifted me a powerful son, and then another one and then 2 others. We are at war; we can not be controlled by unnecessary feelings.

-Those unnecessary feelings you’re talking about, resulted in us having children. Maybe we are not as strong as you, but we know we love each other, and we would do anything to our family. –Argued Y/n’s mother.

Tobirama was getting tired of the constant arguments, irritation brew inside when all of a sudden, realization hit him: Y/n’s parents were actually worried about their daughter. They know the nature of this fucked up world, where babies were born to fight in battles and die. The girl experienced so much love from her parents, who had no intention to exploit their little treasure to the outside world, where her future Senju babies could be taken away at any moment to kill or to be killed.

-I have no intention to consume the marriage with Y/n yet, we can wait 3 years. –His booming voice broke the two families’ heated debate.

-Are you an idiot? We need more...- Butsuma started but Tobirama didn’t let him finish.

-No. We need more experienced shinobi, not little kids, who die.

For once in his life, Butsuma remained silent.

For once Y/n looked into his scarlet orbs and mouthed a “Thank you”.

7 years have passed since the agreement and Y/n has just turned 22 and has become a beautiful young woman, blessed with gentle, yet fierce nature. Though she wasn’t a shinobi, her chakra nature was powerful, and her clan was capable- that’s why Butsuma wanted Tobirama to marry her. He already arranged his eldest son’s marriage with an Uzumaki.

Meanwhile Hashirama, Madara Uchiha and he have been working on his older brother’s dream: creating a place where children didn’t have to die. A peaceful place. Something to call home. C/n was one of the first clans that settled in the  newly founded village of Konoha.

On his 25th birthday the younger Senju was a married man.

The wedding was nothing particularly outstanding, though the war was over, the tension was still looming in between the enemy clans, especially after the death of a notable Uchiha: Izuna, who was the brother of the clan’s strongest member. Tobirama killed him in the war. Yet, he worked with Madara- Izuna’s brother. The two stubborn men were not fond of each other, but for the sake of peace, they drowned their feelings into work.

Tobirama did not believe in love.

He got married one evening and by sunrise he was out, working on a new jutsu, leaving Y/n alone in their house.

Much to his surprise, when he returned to his office at noon, a carefully made bento welcomed him on his desk. The little box contained salmon, rice and different vegetables. At first the man thought it was a trap and someone tried to poison him, however he sensed no ill intentions: the food was freshly made, and there was no poison in it, hence he decided to dig in.

The rest of his day has been spent in a haze coloured with political discussions, taking care of clans’ problems, settlement issues and by evening he was worn, but decided to stay in the office and look through some reports.

Just before midnight a knock was heard, alerting the tired Senju. No one ever worked this late besides him and Madara, but the Uchiha preferred working from his own home, and Hashirama preferred not to work over sunset. Tobirama sensed Y/n’s chakra and quickly opened the door.

-What are you doing here?- His question came out as a scolding, while his deep scarlet eyes stared straight into her e/c orbs.

-I came here in order to take you home. As your wife- your wellbeing is my responsibility now. – Her voice was quiet, but full of determination.

-I can’t just stand up and leave, my job is not finished and...

-Yes you can, and you will.- Despite her small voice, Y/n’s words carried such undeniable force that made Tobirama speechless. –I know we won’t be like my parents, I’m aware of our situation, but I can’t let you go sleepless and starving. I ran a bath for you, and there’s freshly cooked food. Come home with me, sleep, and you can start all over again in the morning.

So, despite his initial distaste, Tobirama Senju stood up, and left his office to be greeted with delicious food, warm bath and someone, who actually cared.

[rustedleopard]

"What if Chujin's Boss Monster Serum worked when Ceroba used Clover's 'pure' SOUL to make it?"

First of all, I very seriously doubt the serum would have worked. SOUL science isn't as straightforward as it seems. Alphys injected Fallen Down monsters with Determination in the hopes that it would make their SOULs persist after death because Determination is what allows human SOULs to linger after the body dies. The logic was sound. But instead the monsters woke up then fused together into Amalgamates. The devs said that Chujin's logic for a "pure" SOUL being needed was because the "impurities" of the Integrity SOUL he used wouldn't mix with a monster SOUL, which is made of love, hope, and compassion--like oil and water. A human SOUL "uncorrupted by violence," meanwhile, shouldn't have the Level Of ViolencE and hate and emotional distance in it that would cause the monster SOUL to reject it. But, again, SOUL science isn't as straightforward as it seems, so there's a good chance that that wasn't all that was needed/if the serum is even possible in the first place. Maybe Ceroba screwed up extracting the impurities from the leftover Integrity SOUL extract she had (pretty likely considering she doesn't have a scientific background). But if she didn't mess up and the serum used "purified" SOUL extract, then it still made Kanako Fall Down from one dose alone. If that's the case, then that would prove that there's more to using human SOULs to make this serum than just "purity."

BUT! Let's throw all of that out the window for a second! Let's say that Chujin had it all figured out and all that was needed was a "pure" human SOUL. Who's going to accept it? The premise of a super serum that can turn ordinary monsters into powerful Boss Monsters sounds like something straight out of a sci-fi story. Most monsters would rightfully have reservations about injecting stuff into their SOULs (which, for monsters, are the center of their being since they're composed of magic and dust)* to make them stronger. "What if something goes wrong and I end up dead or changed forever in some terrible way?" Y'know. Normal things to be worried about when someone tries to offer you something that seems too good to be true.

Besides having reservations about the outcome though, who's going to be happy with what had to be done in order to achieve it? Ceroba had already committed herself to fulfilling Chujin's legacy so she wouldn't (and didn't try to) stop just because she doesn't like the idea of taking Clover's SOUL and using it in a science experiment. But what about all the friends Clover made along the way? All the common enemy monsters that they befriended wouldn't like the idea of their SOUL being experimented on and used for these means because Clover was nice to them, why do they deserve their fate? Dalv would be saddened to hear that the person who was so kind and got him to come out of his shell was killed explicitly because they were so kind. Starlo would be heartbroken to know that his deputy was killed by his best friend to be used for her husband's twisted science project. Axis would be upset to hear that the Hatted Human was terminated (though considering his speech when he meets Clover in the No Mercy Route, perhaps not surprised). And Martlet would be both deeply saddened at the idea of losing her friend and outraged to know that it was their innocence that had painted a target on their back, that choosing to be a good person despite all the pain they were put through made them worthy of death.

But there are more monsters in the Underground than just the ones that Clover met. Surely one of them would see the sense in Chujin's serum? Well, for starters, Asgore and Toriel would flat out reject it and would also be disgusted by it. Toriel loves and tries her hardest to protect the human children that fall into the Underground, entirely innocent or not. Asgore may have killed the fallen humans, but that's because he's too much of a coward to go back on his war declaration. In canon Undertale, he hates the position that he backed himself into. Despite having a staggering 80 ATK and 80 DEF, Frisk can easily take hits from him (even at LV 1) and dish out attacks that can do over 100 points of damage because the strength of a monster is heavily tied to their state of mind. He doesn't want to hurt humans, he just does because he feels like he has to for monsterkind. For god's sake they both raised a human child! Do you think either of them would be happy to know that someone made a serum by targeting, killing, and experimenting on an innocent human child?!!

What about Alphys? Well, I doubt she'd want much to do with SOUL experiments after what happened with her Amalgamates and, again, the serum requires experimenting on an explicitly innocent human to make it. Even Undyne, Número Uno human hater (that Frisk meets in the Underground), would have reservations because 1.) She wouldn't feel like she needs some damn serum to make her stronger when she's plenty capable of kicking a human's ass on her own and 2.) She doesn't hurt the innocent. Monster Kid outright states this. The only reason why Frisk is able to date and befriend Undyne is because they gained no EXP or LOVE up until that point. She has a soft spot for the innocent. Just look at the end of her date with Frisk when she challenges them to hit her and when she realizes that they don't want to hurt her, she comes around to liking them. No matter how much she might tout about how humans suck, the premise of a serum made by harvesting the SOUL of an explicitly innocent, non-hostile, "pure" human would make her skin crawl. Maybe a few monsters here and there would be willing to get behind the serum, but most wouldn't.

The problem with the Boss Monster Serum** is that it's antithetical to what monsterkind stands for. Monsters are supposed to be made of love, hope, and compassion. Targeting and killing innocent humans because they're innocent and extracting power from their SOULs and using it to engineer super soldiers crosses the moral event horizon. If it were used, it would turn monsterkind into actual monsters. And because of that, it never would've caught on.

*Minor Tangent: I'm not certain if this is an appropriate comparison, but if monster SOULs are the scaffolding that the rest of the monster's physical being is built on, wouldn't that make Chujin injecting himself with the Integrity SOUL extract several times the equivalent of performing multiple surgeries on his own vital organs? I'm already aware that Chujin was stupid for doing that to himself, but thinking of it that way makes it sound straight up moronic! Chujin Ketsukane, you're not Leonid Rogozov, why the hell did you do that to yourself?!

**(besides if it's even possible/if monsters would want to risk their SOUL on it)

[randomingoftherandomness]

So, about gongcest. It's unreal how gongcestuous it was, c-drama that could be easily mistaken for something from hbo. Wild wolf and arrogant wolf puppy-yandere, 27 and 17, sword and poison pls i'm getting dizzy! Shangjue recognized his little brother by the smell of his blood! Narrative insisits that they're the same person, the same force of nature, two-headed monster - whatever their personal squabbles might be, their hearts remain united as one. They remind me of same-sex incest's "adam and eve" - Dean and Sam Winchesters with their all-consuming love, us against the world mentality, and the fact that Shangjue raised Yuanzhi, being his father, brother, best and only friend, husband, commander, etc.

So on rewatch i have these headcanons, prompts, or visions, whatever you wish to call it. They're probably of a dead dove kind however i consider them canon-adjacent. First is - Yuanzhi kills pregnant Shangguag Qian and Shangjue forgives him. Basically canon setting - she and SJ had one night stand which resulted in baby whose existence gets in the way of 1) SJ killing her and 2) gong2gong3's marital bliss. SJ plans to find her later and take the kid from her to raise him in Gong household. But YZ finds her first. His motives are obviously jealousy and revenge and "she's not worthy to bring SJ's baby into the world". The abomination she's about to push out gonna be a stain on Gong clan's bloodline, not to mention it displeases YZ personally. "the fetus inside you gets you protection from everyone, even fom SJ himself... but not from me" delivered with a smirk. So YZ deals with her (something painful) and makes sure she's not open casket material. SJ can be furious or not so much, but he forgives didi, they reconcile and are stronger and more twisted than ever. Next concubine for his gege YZ will choose himself - some meek plain non-entity who will birth a son and disappear without a trace.

Second is - when SJ dies (like in canon. that was epic heroic warrior's death fitting for Gong Shangjue. he lived by sword and was destined to die by sword, his brotherwife is there to avenge and mourn him too. it's perfect. why did they revive him?) YZ decides to follow him and become the willing funerary sacrifice to him. You know like when archaeologists excavate ancient burial mound, and prince or hero who was buried there would be accompanied by slain horses, slaves and concubines? like that. Yuanzhi would calmly plan their splendid funeral, choose grave goods and design the tomb. He'd get on Shangjue's funeral pyre, swallow poison pill, lie down next to his brother, hold his hand, and give order to people to light up their pyre. And just like he wanted, he would die with his eyes open, looking at Shangjue, before the flames reach them.

Also i have vague thoughts of them drinking each other's blood in some ritual, but that's another can of worms in itself

Okay I really should be working right now and honestly, I should be more responsible about life, but hells fuck if I'm not eggs over easy for these two brothers :D Congrats Nonnie, you have reawakened my gongcest plotting

You've really hit the nail on the head about the Sam and Dean vibes. Except that this is one "Sam" who isn't about to up and leave his "Dean" unless death's cold and sweet embrace comes to bodily drag him away -- and even THEN. Yuanzhi would probably burn heaven and hell both just to lay eyes on his Shangjue one more time.

Please. Drinking their blood would totally be foreplay for these two freaks. Lord only knows that Yuanzhi would have had some experience in bleeding his Shangjue just to experiment with making antidotes/cure-alls/immunity pills that will only work for his beloved gege and no one else. Nah. I think Yuanzhi would probably take Gege's blood and use it as ink for a tramp stamp on his body. You know those mangas where they have womb tattoos on their lower abdomens for fertility or some such? I can see Yuanzhi getting one while Shangjue is off somewhere and surprising him with homecoming rumpy-pumpy that would or would not devolve into a breeding session because Gege will want to try and sow some seeds on fertile lands.

But I could also see Yuanzhi getting real pissed off when Shangjue doesn't turn down the matchmaking efforts of the family. Gege does love teasing his didi and loves it even more when his little efforts gets him deep scratches down his back and bite marks on his shoulders that he'll be feeling for days. But Yuanzhi burns with real fire. So much so that the next ambitious twit that tries to climb into gege's bed gets strung up by the neck on the front door. A clear warning.

Yuanzhi having the a meek and biddable concubine between his thighs Handmaiden Tale style while Shangjue's parking his swimmers would be so on brand with this. And when the baby is born and the concubine is paid and sent out of the valley, Yuanzhi goes full on mommy mode and everyone forgets the time where he wasn't 'furen' of the Jue manor.

Though, honestly? I think Shangjue wouldn't let the murder of Shangguan Qian slide without some measure of punishment. Brats need a bit of taming sometimes and the Zhiren won't interfere with his methods with a twenty foot poll. Oh, the servants were hearing Yuanzhi crying in the Jue Manor? Must be the wind. Ah, the butlers report that an extra order of lube needs to be delivered? Maybe Shangjue has dry hands. I see that Shangjue is asking for his next trip out the valley to be delayed, that's fair, yes, Yuanzhi is looking a little tired lately and as his gege he needs to take care of his didi so leave granted.

I had the thought of Yuanzhi and Shangjue on the funeral pyre with the soundtrack of Lady Gaga and Bruno Mars' Die With a Smile playing. Because, yeah, didi would rock up in a full on wedding gown just to lie down next to gege and die with a smile.

Keep this coming Nonnie! I love picking my brian to come up with these haha... Thank you for giving me this because now I have to go back to adulting

[serpentface]

Question: given the former’s lack of experience, and the later’s lack of skill; why were Palo and Tigran specifically chosen to accompany the White Calf, especially since the calf’s other escorts seem to be important (or at least, well connected) people?

A lot of it was purely circumstantial. The pilgrimage was held out of the city of Wardin and the vast majority of participants were those located there. Wardin has a relatively small Galenii population to begin with (most of the order is based out of the western half of the region, in Ephennos), and the chosen emissaries are mostly young people in their early-mid 20s (chosen in hopes of being physically robust to deal with the strains of travel).

Also a lot of Galenii were sacrificed during the drought, which contributed to narrowing down the pool. Under normal circumstances, one state-sanctioned human sacrifice occurs in Imperial Wardin per year, which is a Galenii who offers themself up at the peak of the dry season to encourage the return of annual rains and confer God’s blessings of fertility on the land and people. A Galenii is already considered to have given their body to Mitlamache become a conduit for fertility blessings and the divine sacrifice-rebirth cycle, and are thus the most powerful offerings for such rites. The drought was reckoned as a result of the disruption of the sacrifice-rebirth cycle, making offerings to Mitlamache more vital than to Anaemache (the superficially more relevant river/rain Face). Many Galenii volunteered to give their lives (both as a sense of duty, and due to beliefs that deaths of this nature are the most esteemed and confer the best of possible afterlives), some were coerced, and some were murdered in un-sanctioned DIY sacrifices.

And also this is a truly devastating famine and a huge proportion of the population were straight up just dying of starvation, dehydration, and disease, which affected the Galenii order as well.

These combined factors limited the potential pool enough that Tigran and Palo would be seen as worthy potentials for the task.

Tigran was originally the sole pupil of a monk who would go on to become one of the high priests of the order, and this association led him to being a likelier candidate. He’s actually not inept at his basic, normal-basis duties and is considered by most of his peers to be a good Galenii in rite and practice (if a deeply unserious and annoying person). This just doesn’t translate that well to transporting a sacred cow cross-country.

Palo had much less going for him, given he was a very new initiate, and he was mostly chosen as an emissary for the fact that he was considered Tigran’s pupil at the time. Galenii perform most of their duties in pairs, and he would be a natural choice to accompany Tigran.

The final reason was a complete right place at right time situation that got them circumstantially connected to the calf, as well as Faiza and Couya. They were present when the white calf was escorted into the city after its initial capture, with Faiza and Couya being among the escorts. Palo was still in the begging phase of initiation, and had showed up in hopes of receiving charity from the accumulated crowd. This gathering devolved into a food riot at the approach of the escort train, and Palo and Tigran were both injured and indirectly saved by soldiers forcibly breaking up the riot as the calf passed by.

The calf laid down in the street when it just so happened to be near where Tigran and Palo were watching, and refused to get up (it was very tired and had a hard day). Tigran, who is in equal measures a suckup and a true believer, hailed it as little Mitlamache and blessed it. Palo was like 'fuck well ok then' and followed his lead.

Faiza was a key decision maker in the process of choosing the escorts for each sacred animal, and this encounter heavily contributed to their choosing when she later saw them again in the pool of candidates. Couya was very interested in this incident, seeing it as a true and auspicious sign- the calf had chosen them, perhaps even saved them. Faiza, noting Couya's reaction, decided it made for a very good narrative and gave it the go-ahead.

[cultkinkcoven]

Ritual Report: September 26-7th 2023

“Tried to invoke Azrael, met… Jesus?

Disclaimer: I am not Christian or a Jesus freak. This is VERY weird for me. Yeah I know this sounds crazy, I know I’m probably insane and schizophrenic and whatever yes yes skepticism skepticism upgs whatever whatever. I’m not trying to convince you of anything. As a follower of Lucifer, I am not the type to try and pull this card. Let’s fast forward.

These last few months I have had the extreme inclination to work with and invoke Archangel Azrael. I work very closely with a few other angels and spirits who have been continually encouraging me to seek out the Angel of Death.

Yesterday I tried invoking him for the first time. At first I felt nothing for a long time and I felt like I wasn’t really getting anywhere. It wasn’t until I felt a very… heavy feeling blanket me that I felt any kind of presence. I remember I was laying back in my couch, staring into his candle flame and repeatedly thinking about his name, his sigil, and his correspondences. In another astral journey a couple weeks prior I’d identified the entity as one I have been in close proximity to for years. He asked me then to summon him with a red candle and mugwort which I did during this ritual.

Azrael never spoke, but rather he simply produced understanding. I understood very suddenly that Azrael could not necessarily be invoked, he was something that had to be “becomed” and it was clear to me then that in order to understand him, I had to understand what death was and what death meant.

There then a deal of sorts was made. I remember calling out to the candle that if I could truly experience death without fleeing or cowering, that I would be worthy to witness the angel.

I then began to feel very nauseous and cold. I started to tremble in a feverish way and I remember laying back in my chair and considering the consequences of my hubris. I then experienced the removal of all things, perhaps this is ego death. I lost my body, I was transformed into something else. And as I lay there I remember forgetting what I was. I had no name, I was no longer a human. I was just. And I was also everything before everything knew what it was.

Then I began to understand “nothing”. Not nothing but “nothing”. Nothing to be or to remember or understand. I thought then that this must be Azrael, the lack of. Just ___. And I lay there forever and I was

However, it was then that I saw him and I couldn’t fully understand what it was that I was seeing. I remember it being a horrible, massive and overwhelming thing of many blinking eyes that consumed me entirely. I had nothing to retreat to, I was no longer able to be anything else. I then understood that Azrael is not “nothing” but rather he is very much a thing. He is the thing that is the force of transformation. I found him extremely beautiful.

Then finally, after what felt like millennia, I was me again, and I was at the centre of the universe. There sat a robed creature who would not let me see its face, sitting upon a blazing ball of white light. We were the largest and oldest star in the universe, speeding through the cosmos with the rest of the galaxy chasing behind us in an endless game of tag, trapped in our gravity. In front of us was pure nothingness, as we were moving too quickly for time and light to catch up to us. We were headed into nothing.

And i remember remarking that it felt like we were moving so fast, and Azrael “said” that perhaps we were not moving at all.

What we spoke about I cannot fully remember but I know that I asked him about my book. I am in the process of writing a book that is essentially about the relationship between death and god. I told him that one day I wanted to read it to him, and that I would like his assistance with it. I told him that it was only fair that he help me with my book, as I will eventually become apart of his. He found something about that humorous.

When I awoke fully in my body and self, I felt extremely lonely.

This morning, having not cleaned up the ritual, I tried to make contact again. Now I am deeply confused.

I made an astral leap very very easily, with more ease than I ever had with hardly a warm up or an exercise. I was on a beach, at a campfire created with the trunks of white trees.

There was a man sitting there with a banjo or some kind of small guitar. He had thick black hair- it didn’t go past his ears- and and brown skin. He had on a red and cream coloured robe and white linens. He had very welcoming brown eyes. His smile for whatever reason made me want to cry. He was very cheerful. Very kind.

He was singing towards the ocean. I could tell that he was human, and he greeted me like we were friends. I didn’t say anything, I was very confused. This has never happened.

He then offered me a bowl of rice, told me to remove my sandals (which I suddenly had) and asked me to sit with him. So I did, though I didn’t eat the rice. He gave me a wooden cup which I assume contained wine as there was a red liquid inside. I drank it, it was very sour.

He continued singing towards the water - in a language I could not understand- and towards the horizon I could see many “things” maybe angels, watching us from a distance. He concluded his song and a group of men, maybe 5 or 6 came from down the hills and greeted him. The hooped and hollered (like frat boys) and laughed and hugged him, kissed him, very excited to see him. He looked at me and asked if I knew how to play (the instrument) I said no. The men then disappeared all together, though I could hear their cheers fade out long after they were gone.

The man asked me if I was an angel, and I very confusedly said no, I am a human, are you an angel? He didn’t really answer, just took my hands and looked towards the sky.

I knew altogether who he was, or I guess, who I thought he was and I asked him if he was Jesus. He didn’t really respond then either, just smiled warmly.

I told him that I was a witch and a pagan, that I revered his father but that I will not be Christian. I asked if he hated the fact that I work often with Father Lucifer. He smiled at me, and put his head against mine. We were eye to eye. He told me that I am very complicated- and that all his friends are very very complicated.

He then told me that I spoke to death, I said yes, he asked why. I said I wish to know it as I would know an old friend.

It was only then that I had a “realization” looking at this man. Is this actually Jesus Christ of Nazareth? Really? Oh my? All the things I could ask, what an opportunity! Not being Christian myself I could be so objective, I could get the real truth. But then I started asking questions that you wouldn’t think to ask Jesus. I don’t really know why I asked these questions now that I look back on it. I could have asked him anything.

I asked him how it felt the first time he breathed air, what did he think of water the first time he touched it? What did the smell of smoke or the feelings of digestion feel like to a God made man?? What were his first feelings of life like?

He broke out into a laughter and started putting sand in my hands. It was terribly vivid. I could feel every grain of sand running across my skin. He said he was so overjoyed to be able to experience creation first hand. I said that’s what I do with magick even though it is blasphemous, to understand the gods and the natural ways of the world was like experiencing the beauty of living for the first time.

He said he understood that very well, that “even Lucifer is brilliant to behold when beheld. That’s undeniable, don’t you agree?” and I did. He then told me that Azrael is his good friend and is a friend to all those who love life. He asked me if I am wicked, and I said that I could not stand near him if I was. Noting this, he asked if I believed he was the son of God, and I said that I believed he was a good man, I know nothing beyond that.

I asked him if I should “read his book”, he said he doubts I’d find him there.

He was always cheerful and continued to sing. I just sat with him there as he sung over the ocean waves and the loneliness that Azrael had afflicted me with had lifted altogether. His voice wasn’t perfect but it was beautiful. He wasn’t perfect either, he had some crooked teeth and some blemishes on his skin. He was handsome but not in the way that angels are. His feet were ashy from the sand he spilled a little bit of rice on himself when he ate. I cannot get his smile out of my head.

I’m… conflicted. I don’t worship God and yet this man seemed less concerned with that. He admired my pursuit of Azrael even though I had done it in such an overtly pagan way. I did not pray to Yahweh to see this man that I believe was Jesus, and yet he appeared when I invoked the angel of death. He did not preach to me about the glory of God, he just sang, shared a drink with me and held my hand. He had no problem with me working with Lucifer, he had no problem with me being a witch. He loved- adored creation. He was unlike any angel, he was extremely human and we were friends.

I don’t know what to do with this.

[attackfish]

Do you have any thoughts on what, if anything, would have changed if ursa had come from a noble family with a lot of political power instead of having no connections at court? Obviously ozai would still be awful and ozai, but would he still have been able to make ursa disappear? Would he have faced meaningfully more political backlash for that and for banishing zuko? I’m particularly curious about a scenario where ursa’s parents are alive for at least a significant chunk of zuko and azula’s lives (into zuko’s banishment maybe?), and have a decent amount of political clout. Ty in advance, I always love reading your thoughts (and you have the best ursa takes)!

I have, actually. The process of making metas and AUs for me necessitates the constant picking apart of the causal relationship of various parts of the Avatar universe, and creating countless counterfactuals. And since I have a couple of universes in which for one reason or another Ozai gets to marry the worthy daughter of a noble house, I've had to consider this very scenario, or at least one similar to it.

However, there are important differences between the scenarios I have written so far, and an AU in which Ursa herself is from a powerful noble family. In each of the AUs I have written so far in which Ozai marries a noble, he is already Firelord, he chooses his own bride, he has already been married to Ursa, so a pattern has been set, and Ursa's children exist and are the children of his first marriage.

So what would a scenario where Ozai's first marriage, as a prince, and at his father's direction, is to the noble Ursa, and his children are born of such a union, look like? How would it be different from his marrage, say, to Firelady Yuki?

I have argued in the past, and I continue to argue, that Ozai clearly is not capable of being in a non-abusive relationship with anyone he has power over, however, the depth of resentment he clearly feels towards Ursa has a lot to do with the circumstances of their marriage. Ozai is the substantially less favored son of the Firelord, and his father tells him in a thousand little ways that he will never be as good as Iroh, and in cannon, marrying Ozai to effectively a peasant woman, in order to engage in a breeding experiment, is part of this pattern, and must have been a real slap in the face. Canon Ursa would not have been a suitable wife for the Firelord, and Iroh would never have been given such a bride.

But Ursa the daugher of a powerful noble house, whose family was able to weather Sozin's reign, Roku's death, and any fall in prestige, would not be such an insult. She might also be a suitable bride for a Firelord, certainly for a Firelord's son or brother. The kind of bride, in other words that Ozai might expect to be given, and that he would see himself as entitled to. If Ozai doesn't actually respect her, or view her through the lens of her own humanity, he at least doesn't hate her quite so much at the start of their marriage.

Likewise, if Ursa has a powerful family behind her, it would be far harder for her to be kept in the shadows, away from the court and politics, and there would be every expectation that she would be a political player in her own right. Ursa would come to the marriage with expectations as to how her life as the wife of a prince would play out. He would know how to run a prince's household, she would expect to do it. And she would not be entirely dependent on the royal family for any status and power she would have, since she would have her own family's prestige.

Part of this change might well be in how her relationship with Ikem would play out. If he were still a commoner, she probably would have known almost all her life that they would never be able to marry, and they would never be together. And Ozai would be less likely to know about him, or to view him as a threat, and so less likely to use him against Ursa. If he were instead noble, and of similar status to Ursa, it would probably be far too risky to attempt to assassinate him.

And a change in Ursa's status would have a profound change on a status of her children, since they would have powerful family on their mother's side, who gain more power, more prestige, through their existence as blood royals. The non-royal families of royal children have, in most monarchies, firmly and influencially championed the causes of their royal relatives. This would make it harder for Ozai to so dramatically favor one of his children over the other, at least as the second prince.

After he makes himself Firelord, however, all bets are off. If Ozai doesn't come to his marriage hating his wife, he is not actually capable of respecting her, and he would absolutely still view her as disposable, so he might still banish her to conceal any role she might have in Azulon's death, or of course, as a suitable noble wife for a Firelord, she might become Firelady. And depending just how strong the Firelord is compared to his nobles, and the show seems indicate very strong, Firelord Ozai might simply feel empowered to be the abusive sack of shit he always has been, and with the brakes off, he is free to favor his daughter over his son as much as he wishes to, and there is nothing Ursa or her family can really do about it. In other words, conversely, becoming Firelady might be a real drop in Ursa's power and prestige.

[scoobydoodean]

5x13 is a very interesting episode for all of the characters…

like you’ve got cas refusing to consider killing sam bc he wants to idk prove himself to dean

you’ve got mary and john being mad about raising kids to hunt and sam defending john

you’ve got sam’s rewriting of john: like he tells young john that his dad died trying to protect him, but dudeee john told dean he might have to kill you on his death bed

you’ve got dean trying to protect mary from the truth but ultimately realizing she deserves it (i love this one bc dean is consistently about people being honest with him)

you’ve got sam being honestly kinda cruel when telling mary to leave john so she doesn’t curse her kids, which there’s some truth to that but that is NOT the right way to say it sam (i genuinely don’t know how people think sam is good at like “therapy”)

you’ve got michael being creepy with dean and saying he doesn’t want to fight lucifer but still disagreeing about following a father’s orders and destiny and the advent of team free will

you’ve got sam starting to believe that maybe this is their destiny and dean strongly denying it (hot take but sometimes i really think sam and michael are the stronger parallel)

omgosh anyway sorry for the long recap but i guess i’m just wondering if there’s anything you would have done differently with this episode? specifically regarding how these themes were shown

Regarding Cas:

I don't think Cas wants to prove himself to Dean. I don't think he needs to, and I don't think he thinks he needs to right now. (In fact in 5.02 he suggested that Dean owes him). Everything Cas is doing is born of mutual solidarity with Dean in rebellion against heaven. If they don't succeed, they're all going to die—and so will everyone else. Cas has the entire host of heaven after him. Even fellow rebels like Anna and Gabriel dislike him. Gabriel resents Cas for his hopeless quest to find their father, and Anna hates him because he betrayed her in 4.21 and made no efforts to help her.

The only person Cas has in the world right now—the only person he can lean on or count on in any way—is Dean (see: 5.03). By extension, because of their shared love for Dean, Cas also has the people with whom Dean associates (Bobby, Sam, Ellen, Jo). There is protection and shelter through loyalty—through the found family. Cas calls Sam his friend in 5.13, but they haven't really had any bonding experiences on screen the way Dean and Cas have. I think for Cas, it's as simple as Dean is Cas's friend -> Anyone Dean cares about is also Cas's friend and worthy of his protection.

I also don't doubt that Cas is aware that Dean's well-being is tied to the family's well-being and the family's well-being is tied to Dean's well-being. I also don't think he's unaware of the fact that Dean can't weather more harm to their cobbled-together family. Sam and Dean's relationship is deeply scarred and trying to recover (but we see in 5.05 and 5.12 that Dean is struggling with it, and Cas specifically knows this from 5.03 when Dean opened up to him about it). Bobby is dealing with being recently paralyzed and is suicidal (and Dean's outright told Bobby that he can't handle losing him). Ellen and Jo just died a few episodes before. We're about to be reminded again how badly Dean is cracking open in 5.14.

Cas's actions with Anna are cold and calculated—ruthless—because he can't risk any further harm to the family unit—especially not any that might risk rupturing their heart (Dean). In that regard, Cas's actions toward Anna in 5.13, while ruthless, are in character (Also see: wanting to kill Jesse, torturing Donatello, plotting to kill Kelly, working with Sam to use The Book of the Damned).

Regarding Sam rewriting John:

I think the truth is that Sam doesn't care that John told Dean to save him or kill him. I mean—a part of him definitely was traumatized by it—but in 2.11, Sam says John was "right to say it" and he continues to push that narrative through season 2. I think the thing that really makes Sam angry is that it was kept from him. But the stuff related to Stanford and being raised a hunter—Sam forgives John for all of that, and we've known that for a while. We saw Sam start to soften and empathize with John's desire for revenge by 1.02. Then there was 1.08, 1.20, 2.02, 4.19.

Sam's lack of sugar-coating:

We can make note of this one also in 4.19 with Adam, in 4.20 with Jimmy, and in 5.06 with Jesse (though Sam does try harder with Jesse). I don't think he intends to be cruel to Mary, but by this point, Sam has kind of made a name for himself telling people their futures are fucked. This also feeds into your last note about Sam believing in destiny. Of course, Dean also jumps to say that Sam is right and Mary should just not have kids.

I don't know if there's anything I would have necessarily done differently, besides motivate Anna a little better. Her actions are rational, but they don't feel true to her character from season 4. By this I specifically mean her plotting to trick Sam and Dean into a trap, when they (especially Dean) had risked their lives for her in 4.09 and 4.10. She actually uses Dean's loyalty to try and trick him into meeting her, and the only reason it doesn't work is that Cas doesn't trust her and refuses to let Sam and Dean go to meet her. Given that the lack of loyalty and love among the angels was a primary motivation for Anna's fall, I would have appreciated further explanation behind her betraying Dean in this way—through his loyalty to her. I am likely meant to infer that her stay in prison included brainwashing that created this effect, but I don't know... it just feels off.

[usagirln12003]

Sasuke Uchiha: Hogwarts AU

Sasuke Uchiha is a Pureblood wizard that was born on the 23rd of July 1979 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1990, being sorted into Slytherin house.

He has a Blackthorn wand with a Dragon Heartstring Core.

His Patronus is a Black Mamba.

His favorite subject is Defense Against the Dark Arts and his least favorite is Divination.

Sasuke was a happy child, eager to please and be worthy of his family name. One of Sasuke's most significant bonds is the one he has with his older brother, Itachi, who by merely being mentioned can elicit strong reactions from Sasuke's otherwise calm demeanour. Sasuke adored Itachi when he was a boy, enjoying his company above all others'; as an infant, he would cry whenever he was held by someone besides Itachi and would immediately be happy once held by his big brother again. When Itachi murdered the rest of the Uchiha family, Sasuke was crushed not only by the loss of his family but also by what Itachi told him: that he had never loved Sasuke. Sasuke devotes years of his life to avenging their family by killing Itachi, which Itachi encourages whenever they meet. At the same time however, he became determined to do so through his own means, including rejecting Itachi's instructions of practicing dark magic for power, simply to not give Itachi the satisfaction. With his new outlook, he became cold toward others, unmoved by and uninterested in what they do or think of him, choosing instead to keep to himself. He stopped using honourifics, something considered rude in the Japanese language. His only goal in life became to take revenge for his family's deaths by any means, even if it meant acquiring the Unforgivable Curses.

In his pursuit for the power to take his revenge, whenever he meets new people, he makes an evaluation of their abilities: those he perceives to be weaker than himself he arrogantly disregards, giving them little attention so that they won't hold him back; those he perceives as stronger he fixates over and tries to surpass. During his Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons, he is repeatedly exposed to Kakashi Hatake's philosophy that there is strength in teamwork. For a time, Sasuke accepts this, experiencing it first-hand on several of his adventures with his best friends Naruto and Sakura. He even become attached to them and started to forget the vengeance he craved, achieving after so many years a measure of happiness. However, between both the manipulations of Orochimaru and meeting Itachi again in his fourth, where he was and is utterly defeated, Sasuke decides to sever all ties to Hogwarts in a single-minded pursuit of power, leaving the school to focus solely on himself. Kakashi tried to help Sasuke realise the contradiction in his viewpoint: he is driven to gain power because he lost his family, yet sacrifices the family he still has (Naruto and Sakura) in order to gain that power, which did have a profound impact on Sasuke and would have turned him away from the path of darkness had he not been influenced by the Sound Four.

So focused on vengeance, he willingly accepted Orochimaru's offer of power, seeking out the dark wizard to train Sasuke in all he knew, even allowing Orochimaru to experiment on him despite knowing the man was using him for his own gain. Ultimately however, Sasuke decided that letting himself be used by Orochimaru would be a disgrace to his family name, turning on Orochimaru and acquires new team-mates with abilities that could further his goals. Following his training under Orochimaru, Sasuke developed a very composed and detached demeanour, similar to Itachi, never letting himself get worked up during duels. Likewise, Sasuke initially retained his morals by setting a firm no-kill policy for himself and his team against those unrelated to his revenge and openly expressing disgust at Orochimaru for his horrific experiments. In addition, despite becoming cold towards his old team, Sasuke did become attached to his new teammates, still subconsciously holding a notion of teamwork, comparing them to the bond he had with his best friends and pushing himself to extremes to save them.

After Itachi dies in battle with Sasuke and he learned that the hateful older brother that Itachi seemed to be was all an act and that, in truth, Sasuke was the most precious person to Itachi; his murder of the Uchihas was done on the instructions of the Ministry of Magic, in order to protect Sasuke. Sasuke becomes overwhelmed by this discovery and starts conspiring against the Ministry and the wizarding population of Britain for ruining his and Itachi's lives, knowing full well it isn't what Itachi would want him to do. As time passed after this and his hatred increased, Sasuke's fall to darkness steadily eroded much of the goodness he once had: he would without hesitation challenge and even slaughter any and all who stood in his way, left Jūgo and Suigetsu without caring for their fates, essentially sacrificed Karin to strike down Danzō Shimura, and even tried to kill his former best friends when they impede or attempt to dissuade him from his objectives. He also allies with Tobi and Akatsuki when their goals align, but left them without comment when he no longer needs them. His abandonment of all his former loyalties and his criminal acts convince his former classmates that Sasuke is beyond salvation. Tobi determined that Sasuke was carrying the entirety of the Uchiha's hatred on his shoulders, and this caused Sasuke to gain an unwavering and twisted pride of his family, deeming anyone who possessed his family's blood without being one of them or even someone who just isn't an Uchiha as inferior wizard trash and impostors, and became increasingly irate and unstable when witnessing it. Ultimately, Sasuke came to believe that the Ministry's destruction will free the Uchiha from being associated with the rotten wizarding world and the resulting purity will restore the family. He also became very reckless, as he stopped taking care of himself completely, which caused his eyesight to deteriorate drastically within a matter of years.

After his final encounter with Itachi thanks to the Resurrection Stone, between learning of Itachi's struggles in life and knowing that Itachi made the choice willingly to become the villain for the sake of peace, Sasuke is left uncertain about what course to take. From long contemplation, Sasuke came to a warped view of helping the world to ensure no further conflict between them: if a single individual, what Sasuke calls the "True Minister", is solely responsible for making the difficult decisions, killing and the like for the greater good, then everybody will be unified in their hatred of that individual. He volunteers himself for that responsibility and planned to eliminate what few friendships he still has to ensure no turning back. But Naruto, by refusing to give up on saving Sasuke from darkness, demonstrates that their friendship is too fundamental to who Sasuke is and that it cannot nor should not be broken. On coming to terms with this, Sasuke stops fighting the many bonds he's made and chooses to die so the Curse of Hatred would die along with him. However, after further convincing from Naruto, Sasuke chose to live to find redemption instead. Afterwards, Naruto returned Sasuke's first wand, which Sasuke keeps on him during his long travels as a symbol of their friendship. Even though he no longer uses it, he carries it with him regularly, truly valuing it and only letting people he truly trusts hold on to it.

After the Fourth Wizarding War, Sasuke began adopting some of Itachi's views: he decides to fight for Hogwarts' future so that Itachi's actions aren't made meaningless and bases his understanding of the "Minister" around the decisions Itachi made. He also starts poking the foreheads of those dearest to him as a sign of affection, something Itachi used to always do with him. While still not very open with his emotions, Sasuke became more committed to make connections with people. This included his former best friend Sakura Haruno. While originally their relationship was mindless infatuation from Sakura for his good looks and indifference if not blunt irritation from him, over time the two came to better understand one another and true respect was formed between them. Though while he cared for her as a friend, he did not reciprocate her feelings. After he admitted to being defeated by Naruto and let go of his hatred, Sasuke sincerely apologises to Sakura for how much he hurt her - to which, she tearfully forgives him, allowing them to reconcile. They later maintain a long-distance relationship while he pursues a journey of redemption. The two of them later marry and have a daughter, Sarada. While not very affectionate with his family, he is indeed happy about having them and cherishes it, voicing it to others, and feels a strong connection to them when they are apart. Likewise, he enjoys teasing his wife by declining affection, but is strongly against letting other men flirt with her. Sasuke's emotional distance seems to from being so committed to his long-stretching missions. At the same time, he regrets not having been a more attentive man to his family, especially for his daughter, having missed out on much of her childhood and by extension not knowing much about her, showing a noticeably unsure side when trying to be close with Sarada. Still, Sasuke loves his daughter dearly and will go to great lengths to protect Sarada and puts her feelings ahead of his own, as despite having his own memories tampered with without his knowledge, witnessing Sarada summoning her Patronus was enough to make Sasuke change his mind and help Boruto after she pleaded him to despite Boruto being seemingly a dark wizard.

During his time as a wanderer, Sasuke was a recluse, keeping contact with people to an absolute minimum and maintained his strong sense of pride; he is willing to help other witches and wizards if their problems are beyond their expertise but ignores their requests if facing insignificant issues. Stemming from his inspiration of Itachi protecting Hogwarts from the shadows, he also sometimes acts independently on his own and helps the Ministry, but does not even bother to interact with anyone during such instances if not needed. At the same time, he is willing to acknowledging significant events as he sent a note congratulating Naruto for his wedding. Acknowledging his mistakes and once free from hate and vengeance, Sasuke reverts back to the type of person he was prior to the massacre; being kind to others and displaying a sense of humour but maintaining his aloof exterior. Although publicly regarded as a hero for his role in the war, Sasuke feels that his crimes and imperfections outweigh anything heroic he has ever done. Ashamed of his past actions, Sasuke referred to the person he used to be as an entirely different person when he told Boruto about his past actions, albeit without directly telling Boruto he was referring to himself.

As an adult, Sasuke becomes wiser and mature, as well as genuinely warmer and caring, though his tendency to appear deadpan remains. He does retain his habit of insulting others, although it is usually more comical than cold, and mostly aimed towards Naruto. He has also shown a degree of humility, openly admitting to his failings, particularly as a family man. Although he fulfills Itachi's wish for him to protect the wizarding community in Britain, doing this from the shadows and investigating the mysteries of Kaguya leave him unable to spend time with his family, to the point of even failing to recognise his daughter, Sarada. Regardless, he is protective of Sarada and is very supportive of her goal to become Minister one day and not end up like him. Even more, Sasuke loves his family dearly as he tries to spend time with them when he is able to come home, and expresses pride in his daughter's growth and achievements.

As Boruto's godfather, Sasuke is devoted to his godson's well-being and progress. Despite seeing Boruto's usage of a cheating device to pass his finals, Sasuke agreed to take him as a student, as he saw it as similar to his own past of willingness to do anything to attain power. He later reprimanded Boruto for using the device, but still saw his true power and lent him his old wand as a sign of trust and faith. Taking his role as a mentor seriously, Sasuke is willing to let Boruto participate in dangerous duels against the Ōtsutsuki as he saw the boy is living up to his potential that may turn the tide of the fights, even when Naruto decided otherwise. Because of this, Sasuke made it clear he is prepared to kill Boruto should Momoshiki put him under the Imperius Curse, per his duty as Boruto's teacher.

Despite atoning for much of his mistakes, he still feels much guilt for them, openly feeling that for all his fame as a wizard, he is not someone to admire or be emulated. At the same time, Sasuke retains some of the ruthlessness he had during his criminal days; Sasuke was initially hellbent on eliminating the clones of Shin Uchiha despite their visible fear and hesitation towards the end of their duel, and was only convinced of sparing them by Naruto, and when the notorious criminal Shojoji remained arrogant and fearless when interrogated by Sai Yamanaka and Ibiki Morino, Sasuke's sudden arrival and presence were enough to intimidate Shojoji into revealing details about Kara, with Sasuke mentioning that despite changing his ways, he'd still retained his reputation of being unmerciful and brutal towards criminals.

Even so, Sasuke is also very balanced and adaptable. When Sasuke took a mission as a disguised prisoner in order to locate the potion ingredients needed to heal Naruto of his illness that would eventually strip the latter of his ability to use magic, Sasuke kept a low profile by pretending to be weak. He even allowed the abusive prison guards to beat him as his top priority was finding the cure Naruto needed.

[ongolecharles]

DAILY SCRIPTURE READINGS (DSR) 📚 Group, Mon Sept 16th, 2024 ... Monday of the Twenty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time, Year B/Memorial of Saints Cornelius, Pope, and Cyprian, Bishop, Martyrs

Reading 1

-------------

1 Cor 11:17-26, 33

Brothers and sisters:

In giving this instruction, I do not praise the fact

that your meetings are doing more harm than good.

First of all, I hear that when you meet as a Church

there are divisions among you,

and to a degree I believe it;

there have to be factions among you

in order that also those who are approved among you

may become known.

When you meet in one place, then,

it is not to eat the Lord's supper,

for in eating, each one goes ahead with his own supper,

and one goes hungry while another gets drunk.

Do you not have houses in which you can eat and drink?

Or do you show contempt for the Church of God

and make those who have nothing feel ashamed?

What can I say to you? Shall I praise you?

In this matter I do not praise you.

For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you,

that the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over,

took bread and, after he had given thanks,

broke it and said, "This is my Body that is for you.

Do this in remembrance of me."

In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying,

"This cup is the new covenant in my Blood.

Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me."

For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup,

you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes.

Therefore, my brothers and sisters,

when you come together to eat, wait for one another.

Responsorial Psalm

---------------

Ps 40:7-8a, 8b-9, 10, 17

R. (1 Cor 11:26b) Proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes again.

Sacrifice or oblation you wished not,

but ears open to obedience you gave me.

Burnt offerings or sin offerings you sought not;

then said I, "Behold I come."

R. Proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes again.

"In the written scroll it is prescribed for me,

To do your will, O my God, is my delight,

and your law is within my heart!"

R. Proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes again.

I announced your justice in the vast assembly;

I did not restrain my lips, as you, O LORD, know.

R. Proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes again.

May all who seek you

exult and be glad in you

And may those who love your salvation

say ever, "The LORD be glorified."

R. Proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes again.

Alleluia

--------

Jn 3:16

R. Alleluia, alleluia.

God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son,

so that everyone who believes in him might have eternal life.

R. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

------‐--

Lk 7:1-10

When Jesus had finished all his words to the people,

he entered Capernaum.

A centurion there had a slave who was ill and about to die,

and he was valuable to him.

When he heard about Jesus, he sent elders of the Jews to him,

asking him to come and save the life of his slave.

They approached Jesus and strongly urged him to come, saying,

"He deserves to have you do this for him,

for he loves our nation and he built the synagogue for us."

And Jesus went with them,

but when he was only a short distance from the house,

the centurion sent friends to tell him,

"Lord, do not trouble yourself,

for I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof.

Therefore, I did not consider myself worthy to come to you;

but say the word and let my servant be healed.

For I too am a person subject to authority,

with soldiers subject to me.

And I say to one, Go, and he goes;

and to another, Come here, and he comes;

and to my slave, Do this, and he does it."

When Jesus heard this he was amazed at him

and, turning, said to the crowd following him,

"I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith."

When the messengers returned to the house,

they found the slave in good health.

***

FOCUS AND LITURGY OF THE WORD

Today's readings invite us to think about meaningful spiritual experiences. Whether we are attending a meeting, sharing a meal with others, asking someone to pray for us, or interceding on behalf of someone else, it is possible to find Jesus in the experience and be in spiritual communion. In our daily spiritual experiences, we encounter and recognize Jesus. In those experiences, we are reminded to love friend and foe and not judge their desire or need for healing by who they are or what they do. The centurion in the gospel sought healing for someone who worked for him, someone he valued so much that he humbled himself to ask Jesus for help. In my opinion, that is where faith begins. Faith begins at the point of humility.

Faith is not just about believing in God or going to church. Faith is when you have nothing, but you know God will provide it, and you refuse to have a doubt in your mind. Faith is when you lose the function of your legs, but you can still imagine yourself dancing and even hear the music in your mind. Faith is when you wait for someone to say, “I forgive you” or “I love you.” Faith is when seemingly simple things like sitting outside or looking out the window fills you with joy and gratitude instead of worry. Faith is when you go to sleep at night knowing that God will gently wake you up in the morning. Faith is when everyone tells you "No," but somehow, you believe that your "yes" is on the way. Faith is when we can still eat together, pray together, attend a church service together, wait for each other, and pray for each other, even when we feel a slight contempt for the church or the human condition. Faith is when, even though you have not been to church in a while, somehow, when your loved one is sick or dying, you run to Jesus.

Let's pray ...

Loving God, we humbly approach you with our needs. Please help us heal. Amen.

***

SAINT OF THE DAY

Saint Cornelius

(d. 253)

Saint Cornelius’ Story

There was no pope for 14 months after the martyrdom of Saint Fabian because of the intensity of the persecution of the Church. During the interval, the Church was governed by a college of priests. Saint Cyprian, a friend of Cornelius, writes that Cornelius was elected pope “by the judgment of God and of Christ, by the testimony of most of the clergy, by the vote of the people, with the consent of aged priests and of good men.”

The greatest problem of Cornelius’s two-year term as pope had to do with the Sacrament of Penance and centered on the readmission of Christians who had denied their faith during the time of persecution. Two extremes were finally both condemned. Cyprian, primate of North Africa, appealed to the pope to confirm his stand that the relapsed could be reconciled only by the decision of the bishop.

In Rome, however, Cornelius met with the opposite view. After his election, a priest named Novatian (one of those who had governed the Church) had himself consecrated a rival bishop of Rome—one of the first antipopes. He denied that the Church had any power to reconcile not only the apostates, but also those guilty of murder, adultery, fornication, or second marriage! Cornelius had the support of most of the Church (especially of Cyprian of Africa) in condemning Novatianism, though the sect persisted for several centuries. Cornelius held a synod at Rome in 251 and ordered the “relapsed” to be restored to the Church with the usual “medicines of repentance.”

The friendship of Cornelius and Cyprian was strained for a time when one of Cyprian’s rivals made accusations about him. But the problem was cleared up.

A document from Cornelius shows the extent of organization in the Church of Rome in the mid-third century: 46 priests, seven deacons, seven subdeacons. It is estimated that the number of Christians totaled about 50,000. He died as a result of the hardships of his exile in what is now Civitavecchia.

Reflection

-----------

It seems fairly true to say that almost every possible false doctrine has been proposed at some time or other in the history of the Church. The third century saw the resolution of a problem we scarcely consider—the penance to be done before reconciliation with the Church after mortal sin. Men like Cornelius and Cyprian were God’s instruments in helping the Church find a prudent path between extremes of rigorism and laxity. They are part of the Church’s ever-living stream of tradition, ensuring the continuance of what was begun by Christ, and evaluating new experiences through the wisdom and experience of those who have gone before.

***

【Build your Faith in Christ Jesus on #dailyscripturereadingsgroup 📚: +256 751 540 524 .. Whatsapp】

[teenageread]

Review: Along a Breton Shore

Synopsis:

A soldier and a young woman, on opposite sides of the revolution, must run for their lives across a war-torn France in this gripping novel of friendship, love, and survival.

France, 1794

Maxence Étienne, a soldier for the République, believes fiercely in the revolution that is bringing liberty to France. But even though the monarchy has fallen and Maxence is part of a great cause, he is still searching for a place to belong.

Armelle Bernard is a young woman from Breton whose father was sentenced to death for hiding counterrevolutionaries. She decides to confront the priest who betrayed her father, and as the conflict escalates, she herself is ordered to be executed—an order to be carried out by Maxence.

Maxence has seen his share of violence and bloodshed, but he also carries a tragic secret and can’t bring himself to carry out his assignment. In allowing Armelle to escape, he is forced to combat a fellow soldier, who dies in the struggle.

Though Armelle and Maxence are strangers and on opposite sides of the revolution, they find themselves united as fugitives of the new republic. Now they must find a way to trust each other as they search for a path to peace, and to freedom.

Plot:

Armelle Bernard had not felt peace since the war started. With France divided, Armelle’s family is on the wrong side, and when her father was caught trying to help, he was sentenced to death. Determined to do something, foolish as it might be, Armelle heads to the church that hosts the priest who betrayed their family, and with a scrub and bucket, decides to “wash” the filth from her town. A childish, petty attack on those who caused her harm, Armelle was shocked when this little act of rebellion resulted in a death sentence. Tasked with the job of “disposing” of her, Maxence Entieen is a young soldier who believes in their cause, but not all their methods of going so. After being betrayed by his brother, and losing a friend in battle, Maxence is trying to find his place within the new order. The task of killing Armelle did not feel worthy of the cause, his commander saw it as an act of betrayal and ordered Maxence to death. Reckless as she is, Armelle is thankful that Maxence spared her life, and felt obligated to save him from his death. Busing Maxence out of prison, the two of them set off on their journey to France’s countryside and coast where Armelle is to go to her grandparents, and Maxence to find his father’s ship. Where once strangers, Armelle considers herself Maxence’s friend, as the two grow closer on their travels pretending to be everything from siblings, and nobles, to newlyweds, all while learning how to trust each other and form a bond that is stronger than friendship.

Thoughts:

Arlem Hawks strikes again with another beautiful romance story set during the french revolution. Set in the year 1794, the story is told from an alternating perspective of Armelle and Maxence, who find themselves dependent on each other despite being on opposite sides of the war. Armelle is fantastic, as our headstrong girl leads with her feelings and does what she believes is right, no matter what gets her in trouble. Her willingness to see the best and positive attitude made her a delight throughout the story, and a character to really root for and want to see with a happy ending. On the other side of the story, Maxence is also a fantastic character with strong morals and a duty to do what he believes is right. As a soldier, Maxence firmly believes in the cause, seeing its beauty despite losing a brother and a friend to it. Yet when tasked with killing Armelle, someone who defies the cause, Maxence saw no purpose in taking her life. With his strong morals, you get to experience Maxence throughout this novel making the right choices, despite what his predecessors tell him to do. As a pair, Hawks could have used a bit more work in the chemistry department. Friends? Yes, as Hawks made them have several enjoyable conversations and a good banter throughout the story, but as lovers? I just felt like it could have used a bit more work. Still, Hawks has the structure down for a proper romance, and having the novel set during the French Revolution gave it enough of a spin to keep things interesting, and allow this medium pace novel to be enjoyable. With some characters from their previous French Revolution Romance Novel (Beyond the Lavender Field) talked about during this novel, Hawk is setting up their own little world that makes it worth coming back to. Overall this is a romance novel with a historical edge, providing us with two headstrong characters who despite opposite beliefs find love in the middle ground and make peace with past mistakes.

Read more reviews: Goodreads

Buy the book: Amazon

[venalos-archived]

"Ah... ahahah..."

An awkward, embarrassed laugh was all the evidence Frosting would need to know that his counter-teasing was plenty successful. Safine had even visibly winced when he called her the 'self-proclaimed overlord of sweets', dredging up all manner of cringe-worthy childhood memories as a consequence. Safine tried to regain her composure and swiftly failed, especially as the felyne chefs completed their dango show and Azuki placed Safine's order in front of her with a knowing chuckle, having overheard everything.

"These dango were meow-de with love. Don't choke them down without enjoying them, 'overlord'~"

Azuki's assistant chefs were chuckling, too.

Safine immediately felt her face heat up and turn red. Ah, yes, the infamous Stick Incident. Safine was sixteen-years-old and Frosting only nine when it happened; she was more than surprised that he still remembered it to this day. A day where she was still decidedly naive and admittedly stupid, as children often are, deciding to stuff as much dango into her mouth as possible and show off to the other children present. An ill-considered attempt as showboating, to display just how big and bad Big Sister Saf was.

She ended up almost choking to an early demise. Really, it was actually quite the harrowing near-death experience despite Frosting looking back at it fondly (and teasingly) and Safine perceiving it as nothing more than an embarrassing lapse in judgement.

"F- Frosty! You promised me we'd never talk about the St- Stick Incident every again!!"

Safine was more ashamed of herself than genuinely upset and hurt, and one could almost imagine the puffs of steam rising from her head. She was also taken aback by how quickly Frosting was to clap back; truly, they grow up so fast. And thus, soundly and thoroughly trounced, there was little else she could do except pick up one of the three dango servings and start nibbling at the purple Magnacrisp.

Frosting skips on the dango for now

---- Mostly since he already had a nice meal quite recently. He does however pull out a half eaten packet of konpeito to munch on while he was there. Finishing the rest of his drink, he asks for a refill before the cats do their fun little song and dance as per the usual. It was always a joy to watch play out, though he admits he does miss the singing back in Kamura a little after all this time. The Dango Song was probably the first song most of his acquaintances would hear him humming too.

The hunter watches his sister order her food, tapping a finger in rhythm to the song idly as it was prepared. He rolls his eyes at the tease, but follows with a smug smile.

"Oh! How the self proclaimed overlord of sweets has fallen!" he gestures dramatically, though of course most of it is in gest.

"No longer does she make it an entertaining act to fit a few sticks worth of dango into her mouth, how the years have changed..."

He may have mellowed out over the years, but he did gain some level of potential sass and smugness to him as he grew older. It was always a little concerning (yet impressive) Safine was able to do any of that, maybe it was better she didn't do it anymore. It was also good that they didn't have to keep worrying about the potential cavities and such from all that sugar. One would've probably even expected the boy named after a sugar liquid to be the sweet tooth. . .

Well... he was partially one- and still is one, if the konpeito was anything to go off of. Though nowhere near to the extent Safine used to be.

Frosting giggles to himself after his dramatic speech, bracing for any potential follow up reaction. He deserved a bit of a playful smack for sure. That one he could fully admit to

[innerunderrain]

Paladin [Yan! Knight.Childe x Princess! Fem.Reader]

Paladin: a determined advocate or defender of a noble cause

Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, infantilizing behavior, mentions of slight gore and minor characters deaths, war and battles, implied physical and mental abuse, implied neglectful family, beliefs on God, non-consensual touching, apathy, implied non-con towards the end, forced marriage, mass genocide, slightly longer story than usual.

Word count: 2k+

Minors DNI

Part 2 [NSFW]

-

Childe was far from a hero.

How could he be hailed as a hero when he was a key contributor in destroying the prosperity of an insignificant nation that had never disrespected the Tsaritsa nor any of their pledges to Snezhnaya? It wasn't his place to dispute commands given by greater authority; he simply did what he was ordered, seeing no issue with the notion considering that it would help him further enhance his combat experience and learn of new worthy opponents. In fact, he was rather overjoyed to have been given the opportunity to serve as a sword in the Tsaritsa's army!

Although, the battle ended quickly, with Tsaritsa troops massacring the majority of the village's residents and vassals, with not a single domicile remaining due to the smoldering inferno that devoured the town, producing large fumes to swirl into the sunken sky. The scenery reminded Childe of the illustration of the underworld the Church would often display to the young children, in an attempt at manipulating them into a devoted believer.

Childe proceeded towards the palace's grand hall, whistling a nursery tune that Teucer had regularly loved to recite, wiping the metallic liquid off his face with the cuff of his black coat, wondering if the blood could somehow be washed off. It was crucial to ensure that every member of the royal family were to be executed, considering Capitano had earlier commanded him to apprehend and slaughter any individual who was still present within the palace. Childe nearly felt bad because, from his recollection, none of the royal family were particularly competent fighters, they couldn't even regulate their elemental abilities. Perhaps the Tsaritsa had a point when she had decided to eliminate this good-for-nothing nation. While it was depressing, what else could he do about it?

He threw open the entrance to the council chamber anticipating to see a considerable number of Royals huddling together at the rear of the room with a fearful expression upon their pitiful faces, ready to hear their pleas of wanting to live.

But the room was empty.

Childe held his breath while the eerie silence persisted, listening for any ruckus in the hopes of overhearing someone gasping for air, quietly mumbling a way to escape.

Nothing.

It's just fantastic. Capitano will not be delighted with him when he discovers that all these pesky nobles seemed to have fled, betraying their people and leaving them to die within the scorching flames. Childe turned away in a huff, preparing to leave the room, disheartened but also expecting a brilliant lecture from his idol once he receives the chance to file a report. The sound of soft yet frantic footsteps awakened his excitement, whilst did a flash of white from the edges of his vision and a loud whoosh. Which prompted him to take a quick step back, avoiding being injured by a small knife that was held by a pair of gloved hands, rather small hands in fact.

Childe charged forward, shoving the perpetrator to the ground, a high pitched howl escaping their lips as his knee prodded into their back.

"Oh? A soldier?"

He whistled before noticing the white gown that complemented your figure, the hair accessories that scrunched up the majority of your hair, and the white satin gloves that encased your flimsy fingers.

"No - a Princess?"

You didn't say anything but looked at him as you squirmed all over the ground beneath his knee, trying in vain to get the man to loosen his grip on you. Childe merely stood still, savoring your facial landmarks and appraising how charming you appeared whilst under his grip, seemingly pleased at the way that ungodly fear began to form within the pit of your eyes. How cute, if rabbits were capable of personifying themselves, he was sure that you would be the perfect epitome of those little things.

Childe briefly releases his firm grip on you before lowering himself to your level to grab your face harshly to examine your expression. Really pretty, indeed. You were quite fitting for your title of _'Princess,' _Childe mused.

"Where are you taking me?"

You questioned, your voice apprehensive, as Childe encouraged you to stand, his hand nudging your left arm forward, dragging you along as he leapt out into the hall. A warm liquid seeped into your worn-out shoes, and you grimaced as you realised it was indeed blood. A substantial amount of blood coated the floor, and you nearly threw up when you noticed the gory carcasses of troops strewn throughout the walls, their eyes rolled into the back of their head, not a single life seemingly spared within the blood massacre.

Childe merely gave you a fleeting glance before responding, his tone sounding strikingly chipper despite the horrifying spectacle that was unfolding out right in front of you two, prompting your suspicion to be more evident towards the old man.

"I believe you'll be accompanying me, Princess."

The Tsaritsa promised that she would grant Childe any request, having allowed him to partake in the combat with the other harbingers. Childe honestly didn't know what to wish for before commencing the fight as, apart from that motivation to fight, which again is simply his own little private ambition, he pretty much had everything he sought. Although, The Tsaritsa remarked that after partaking in the mission, his attitude seems to have changed.

His request was a clear one—he requested for the revered Princess of the exiled nation to be brought in hand for marriage. The Tsaritsa seemed rather reluctant at first, before agreeing with a sigh and stating that he must not further tarnish the reputation of Snezhnaya since she's already allowing him to marry a Princess from a traitor's land.

You were kept alive as the other members of your family were rapidly arrested by Capitano and his men and then executed in front of the whole Snezhnaya's community. While you were pardoned, the Fatuis only tossed you into a chilly, gloomy dungeon that mirrored the country you were once compelled to live in. You scoffed at the irony, huddling in the corner of the dark cell as you attempted to run your hands together to produce just any sort of heat that seemed rather useless.

But one day, you found yourself suddenly free.

No one told you anything; rather simply escorted you to a lavish chamber that was considerably exquisite than your previous bedroom at the palace. You are coerced into taking a bath by the Snezhnaya's maid, who oil your locks with a rose-scented shampoo and powdered your face to the finest quality. Every time you would questioned them what was going on, they would just look at you for a brief moment before continuing to dress you in a gown that unnervingly copied the wedding gown that your older sister wore to her ceremony. The gown was simply breathtaking, embraced your midriff, draped past your calves, and was embroidered with precious diamonds that probably coated more than your entire closet at your old residence.

But it was not until later, when you were being taken by an elderly man who had a noise that resembled something of a beak, down a corridor lined with lavender flowers and various decorations, that made you think that you were being wedded off. The corridor was lined with beautiful lavenders, and each side of the walkway showcasing a herd of people who stood with bright smiles while clapping their hands.

The man who had earlier accompanied you with departing the palace and entering Snezhnaya was standing beneath the ceremonial arch, dressed in a white suit, and beaming tenderly towards you. His face displayed an almost bashful expression, contrary to the cold expression he previously showed you while the both of you had to march over the pile of corpses within the old palace.

You were obviously livid.

The elderly man averted your eyes as you shifted to look at him, pleading with him to loosen the solid grip he had around your fingers. He appeared to be fully conscious of the absurdity of the situation, yet, he chose to do nothing about it. You were given into the care of the red haired man, who carefully took your hand and positioned you directly in front of him with a Priest waiting next to the two of you.

"Will you have [First Name] [Last Name] to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort and keep her, and forsaking all others remain true to her, as long as you both shall live?"

Childe's clamp on your hand tightened as he cracked a smile before responding to the Priest.

"I will."

Despite your obvious distress, the Priest did not spare you even a single glance as he seemed satisfied with his utterances and seemed oblivious of the forced marriage he was about to sanction.

"Do you_ [First Name]_ ensure to keep the same promises? Will you be more than willing to have Ajax be your husband?"

As you struggled to find the right tone of protest, your lips parted, and tears threatening to tumble from your eyes. This man, or Ajax, appeared to have taken a notice on the way your brows scrunched up, as if you were attempting to control your oncoming sobs, and the way your eyes appeared glossy underneath the cathedral lights. He squeezed your hand even tighter, and you nearly jumped in surprise, peering up at the man only to see him merely smiled before mouthing, 'I will,' trying to encourage you to respond to the Priest's words.

Shit, what choice did you even have?

You only stammer an 'I will' with a quivering lip, enabling the crowd to erupt in a loud, joyful cheer as Ajax draws you in close and presses his lips against yours. In front of what you assumed to be his family, his kiss was sloppy and stifling, as if he was attempting to devour you alive. You couldn't help but long to drop dead as he pulled away while smiling broadly.

In spite of the obvious laughter within the background, the redhead man leans in and whispers into your ear.

"I can't wait for tonight."

You were horrified as you stared at him, your blood running cold, feeling helpless despite being surrounded by so many people.

The wedding had no reception or after-party, and the crowd dissipated as quickly as it formed, resulting in you being shortly separated from Ajax. A young maid escorted you to your room, chanting something akin to encouragement, as if she was overjoyed by your mishaps despite you knowing that she probably didn't know the overall story behind your life, you still felt rather angry. You wanted to scream and pull at her face as she gushed about how fortunate you were to have a Fatui Harbinger for a husband, helping you in slipping into a significantly shorter gown than your wedding dress, which almost resembled a lingerie.

You were now sitting on a king-size bed, tweaking the edge of your red dress as you tried to make sense of all that had happened today. If God even existed at this time, he seemed to enjoy compounding your suffering. The torture from your family came first, and now you had to get married to a man you don't even know. You question whether God is even the kind and forgiving deity that people have claimed him to be; after all, if he were, why would he forsake you in this situation? Yes, you've daydreamed of marrying a righteous hero a lot ever since you were a child. Your wedding would have been surrounded by pigeons and beautiful white roses, with your younger sister having to walk along the aisle while attempting to throw flower petals at your family. But now it all seems like a hopeless dream that you will never be able to comprehend. Not when you've lost your family, kingdom, people, and now even your dignity.

What more does God want from you?

Your train of thought was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door opening and Ajax entering clothed in plain black pants and a loose collared shirt that displayed half of his shoulders, his hair seemingly still wet from taking a bath earlier.

"Look at you, you're already fully dressed for me."

He chuckled, stalking steadily towards your figure as you limped away from him, only for him grasp your ankle and drag you towards him. You shrieked, your arms failing you in a pitiful attempt at protecting yourself, merely clawing his arms. Your efforts appeared to amuse Childe even more, as he came out laughing, his voice echoing through out room.

Childe didn't mind, he liked the thrill of the battle. You can cry and scratch at him while you flail around like a determined kitten all you want; it just adds to his pleasure, and because he will be victorious in the end no matter what.

"[First Name]."

Although he made an effort to cool you down, your resentment never seemed to be soothed as you placed your hand on Childe's chest in an attempt to push him away.

"Don't speak to me!"

You yelled, slapping his arm and turning to look at the other side of the mattress.

"Oh come on, don't be like that."

He groaned as he tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you into his chest, and pressing himself against your back. You felt his fingertips gradually ride up the dress to your hip, slipping to stroke your thigh, exposing your delicate skin of your legs to the cold, a shudder ran up and down your spine.

"You!"

His other arm was still tightly coiled around your body, and he simply grinned at your pathetic reaction while placing one hand on your naked waist. He inhaled your fragrance profoundly while snuggling his face against the crook of your neck and feeling you become stiff.

"What's the matter, [First Name]? I'm simply carrying out my responsibilities as a husband. No need to be shy."

"Don't you dare use the excuse of being my husband as a reason to violate me."

You sneered, doing your best to restrain yourself from twisting in his grip and lambasting him with derogatory words.

"Although we may be wed by some unfortunate contract, my feelings for you will never be the same."

Upon hearing your words, he merely grinned.

"Considering that you have never known lasting love, my Princess, how can you already be so harsh to me? Your family did not treat you kindly, as far as I'm aware."

Childe rolls you onto your back, locking both of your wrists with one hand while sporting a sarcastic smirk on his lips, without exhibiting the slightest sign of effort. He positioned one knee between your legs and methodically rubbed on your clothed cunt, causing you to exhale uncontrollably.

"I may not be a hero that you've dreamt of, but I'm definitely determined strong-willed enough to seek out for what is mine."

He replied as he watched you pray to him to stop, uncovering your collar and lowering the straps of your dress down your shoulder. Leaning down, he placed an open mouth kiss on top of your collar, soaking the way you flinched under his lips.

"I'm certain that tonight I'll demonstrate to you both my devotion to you and what it's like to serve as a Snezhnayan Knight."