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bleufrost · 3 years ago

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There's Just Time (A Loki x reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: We've Met Before

Summary: You were an explosion waiting to happen who found love in the arms of a hurricane. Loki saw you as an angel that calmed his demons. For you, he was a savior that taught you to trust your abilities, yourself, and others. When he died, you were broken. You clung to any hope possible and watched as it all fell away. With nothing left, stories from your youth flooded back of a mysterious force that controlled time and space, and you knew that you would do anything to see him again...even if that something meant teaming up with the Time Variance Authority to capture the man you love.

A series of murders catch Mobius' eye. A familiar face catches yours.

Words: 3,118

Warnings: grief, mentions of self harm, death

Prologue

If you'd searched the whole wide world

Would you dare to let it go?

The pews of this church were far less comfortable than you could have possibly imagined. You let your feet dangle for a moment before pushing them up on to the pew in front of you. A bored yawn echoes in the empty halls and your eyes fall closed as the workers around you continue to struggle to make sense of the scene. When you try to breathe, you notice that the air is far too still.

“It’s great to see you making yourself useful.” The soft sound of shoes stop steadily next to your seat. With an annoyed huff, you push your feet down and sit up, looking at Mobius.

“I could be far more useful if you’d let me use my goddamn powers.” He sighs and stares down at his watch. “You know I can’t do that. Now come on, you’re a smart kid. What does this all look like to you?”

Your eyes don’t leave him for a few seconds. There was a time where you would have tried to run off; take what you needed to jump from place to place and find Loki on your own. Not now though. You know these people are far more powerful than they let on. You know that you need them if you’re ever going to see him again.

With that in mind, you walk over to the candlelit section, Mobius following closely behind. The bodies are spread out on the floor, each with wounds in a pattern far too familiar. Gunshots were never your forte. Stab wounds on the other hand, you were taught well by the best on how to both treat and inflict.

“They were stabbed.” He nods and squats down to inspect the wounds of one body more closely.

“They’re all consistent with the others. Look at the position of the bodies.” Your eyes glance over each of them. Some look defensive, but in a sudden way. Almost as if…”They didn’t know something was coming to them until it was too late. It was a blindside.” Mobius rises and pats your shoulder. It makes you uncomfortable, he’s trying desperately to be your friend and you don’t really know why. You both knew you weren’t here because it was your first option.

“That makes six attacks this week.” Your fingers tingle with the need to feel something. If you could just tap into the energy here, it could make everything so much easier. There is endless knowledge in the atmosphere of a room, especially one where such horrific things occurred. It was infuriating that they you couldn’t use a part of yourself that you had learned to depend on.

“Those are just the ones we know of.” Mobius walks around the side of the room again, just in time for your frustration to bubble over. You stare him down and, even without your abilities, you know he can feel the anger that courses through you.

“I thought you guys were all knowing.” You step toward Mobius and one of the soldiers lifts his gun. Mobius quickly puts a hand up to order him to stand down. He walks closer to you, arms up in attempt to defuse the situation. His patience pisses you off even more.

“This is a variant we’re talking about. You know better than most that those aren’t so well regulated.” He watches you closely as your jaw clenches. He’s right and you know it. It’s just felt like an eternity since any sign of Loki has come up. You were on edge, without your powers, and working with people you didn’t fully trust. Playing it cool was the only way to keep your position as Mobius’ partner though, and you had to remember that.

“Right.” You nod and turn away right as the shuffle of feet sounds from down the hall. A small child runs by and Mobius follows, along with a few of the crew. You’re not so quick to see what’s going on though. Right now, you need to think. The bodies around you were alarming. The stab wounds even more so. There was no way that Mobius didn't recognize the same signs you did, but you weren't about to broadcast it with the small chance that he didn't already know.

You had been working with Mobius for a little while now. You weren’t exactly sure how long because time has a weird tendency to move differently at the TVA. It was long enough to establish that, while you weren’t the most fond of him, he held a certain faith in you that the others lacked. Still, something was off, you just didn’t know what yet.

That’s what made all of this even more concerning. If your suspicions were even close to correct about the recent murders…you knew where your loyalties were held, and it wasn’t with Mobius or the TVA. Loki was somewhere out there. For a brief moment, before you had your powers stripped from you, you could almost feel him. It was the connection to his energy that tethered you to him when you first met, and it was a similar one to what called you to him back at the revisit to New York. There was something that kept hope in you that he was still alive, and the feeling stayed with you until the moment you entered the TVA.

Every once in a while, out here in the field, you think you can still feel little shards of it.

Your mind stops wandering when you see Mobius take something from the child to be examined. It was a little blue package, but the glowing teeth on the child are what really catch your eye. You make it just in time to see the kid point out the stained-glass imagery of the devil. Horns protrude from his head like a crown. It all felt too familiar: the god-like being, horned crown, stab wounds, and tricky nature of a blind attack. The anger, the mistrust. Your eyes can’t seem to tear away for a second, but when they do, you can’t help but stare at this kid. Something was definitely not right. Why was he so calm?

Mobius watches you from his place by the doorway and takes it all in. You can see it when you look back at him; the knowing look he gives you. It’s unsettling to think that your thoughts are so easily deciphered when you don’t have your shield to hide behind. He doesn’t ask any questions though, and for that you’re almost grateful. He says something else to the kid, but you aren’t listening anymore.

“Alright, let’s head out.” Mobius takes your arm and guides you back to the main hall. Part of you thinks these little gestures are to establish trust. Mobius truly has given you no real reason to dislike him. As a person, he appears inherently good. Without your ability to read him though, you never know what to trust. The fact that they seem adamant to keep them from you, while not his decision, makes you weary of the whole organization.

“Any of that seem odd to you?” He looks between your face and the rest of the room quickly. You know he’s trying to make it seem like he’s not watching you that closely, even though he is. Keeping your face as steady as you can, you choose your words carefully. Focus on the gum, not the horns. Not the stab wounds.

“Yeah, the gum was weird as shit. Definitely not the usual candy for this time period.” You brush his arm off of you and move your body around to feign looking over the church in attempt to hide the action. “You never know though, they might be more modern than we think.” He watches you with a straight face that breaks out into a smile instantly. Mobius nods and grins at you.

“I agree. No time variance there.” His voice is sarcastic and playful in that moment, but his face falls serious again. “What about the devil?”

You do everything in your power to not flinch or make any indication of discomfort at the question. “What about the devil? I feel like it could be a clue, but it could also just be some kid who learned from a very early age that any evil is done by a creature with hooves who lives in hell.” He continues to watch you and you continue to be as nonchalant as possible.

Finally, he nods. “Maybe.” Mobius turns and you pause to breathe for a moment before following him back to the TVA.

Upon your arrival, things move incredibly fast. Thoughts of the case are abandoned in favor of a much more urgent matter.

A call came in immediately. Before you even had a moment to settle yourself back into the usually stale atmosphere of TVA headquarters, Mobius was rushing you into a room. You almost miss the fact that the air is not stale in the slightest; in fact, it almost felt as though it was crackling with electricity.

“I need to know that you won’t do anything stupid.” The words left his mouth with urgency. The constant glances over his shoulder to the awaiting hall a clear sign that he knew something you didn’t.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, “What are you talking about?” He turns and paces the floor. Once. Twice. Three times before his movements halt.

“The Loki you know isn’t here. He never will be. You understand that, right?” His device flashes in his hand. You don’t know what the flashes mean, but you do know what he’s implying. Loki’s here. Somewhere in this building. In the same general place that you are. Loki is here.

Mobius continues to wait for a response. His foot taps with impatience. “When I took you in, we promised each other that our partnership wasn’t over when we found him. You can’t go rogue on me or this is all over for everyone, do you understand?”

Your breaths come out in rapid little puffs as your mind tries to wrap itself around the unspoken truth here. Mobius is right in theory. This isn’t the Loki you knew at the time you lost him originally. This Loki is still afraid. He’s angry, hurt, confused, and so far from trusting you. Where Mobius is wrong though, is in thinking you aren’t familiar with him at all. You know Loki in all forms, and if it takes a little extra time to make up for lost memories, that would be more than okay with you.

“Hey, I need an answer.” Mobius’ voice was barely registering with you, but you heard it. He’s on edge and you almost panic at the thought of potentially not seeing Loki as soon as possible if Mobius doesn’t think you can handle it.

“I understand and I’m not going to do anything stupid.” You can’t speak the words fast enough and as Mobius searches your eyes for any sign of deceit, you know all he sees is honest desperation. You would do anything to be with him again. That’s the truth.

With an affirming nod, Mobius leads the way to a section you recognize as the courtroom.

The air here is thick, almost unbreathable. The crackles turn to little sparks as you near the doors. How is it that in a place that banishes magic, Loki can still make the ghost of yours come to life? To say that you aren’t prepared to see him again would be an understatement. You traveled through time itself to be near him again, but the prospect of achieving that goal never actually felt like a fantasy you could fully entertain. How very like him to bring your wildest dreams to fruition in the most obscure of moments. Your thoughts all come to a sudden halt when you hear the faint sound of the most narcissistic angel to ever utter a word.

“…because they traveled through time. No doubt in a last ditch effort to stave off my ascent to god king,” Your mouth falls open in silent shock. Of course the first thing you hear from him in years is an accusation, you assume, to have you arrested instead of him.

Your gaze falls on him and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders as you see him, truly see him, moving, speaking, and having just as big a flair for the dramatics as usual. He’s here. He’s alive. He’s okay.

Mobius nudges you to follow him and you both attempt to silently take your seats in the rows lining the courtroom. Your heart pangs as Loki mentions Tony, but you sit and listen, nonetheless. He continues to argue with the judge, bringing up your old team and reminding you of just how much things have changed irreparably.

“Perhaps you can provide me with a task force and resources, and I can return and eliminate them for you.” His hands are spread confidently, but they immediately fall when you let out a short laugh. The comment caught you off guard and a part of you loved that he still thought he could squash your team so easily. Even after all that happened in New York, he never gave up and you loved that about him; even if his determination was a bit misplaced at the moment. Loki is nothing if not confident in his abilities to charm and disarm.

Your hands fly to your mouth immediately when you realize that the majority of the courtroom is staring at you.

That’s when it happens. His gaze pierces into you like a dagger, sharp and oh so welcome to do whatever damage it pleases. Your hand goes down, stopping at your chest where you can feel your heart pounding. Tears slowly well up in your eyes, but you blink them away as quickly as they came.

Loki tilts his head to the side subtly. You know he recognizes you and you know your lame attempt to hide your pain and love was seen right through. He doesn’t say anything though. Even though he was just offering to hunt your team down for sport and turn you in to gain his freedom, he says nothing to indicate you should be on trial. Instead, his eyebrows scrunch together, and he continues to stare at you. There seems to be a hint of sadness in his eyes, but you know you’re just imagining it.

The judge clears her throat, calling the attention of the room back to her. Loki’s eyes slowly move from yours. You continue to watch him though. It isn’t irrational to fear he might disappear at any moment. Not with him, and definitely not here.

You barely listen as he learns many of the same things you previously did about the Time-Keepers and his inability to use magic here. His attempts to conjure his daggers pulls your focus, but not in the same way a conversation would. No, you swear that you feel the frustration and utter helplessness that courses through him. You know the feeling, but this rushes over you just as fresh as the day you lost your powers. You can't be feeling it from him though, and that is reestablished in your mind as his magic fails to conjure.

What does call your attention is the sentencing that Loki receives and the sheer panic of potentially losing him again. You move to rise, ready to put up a fight because you know that being this close and failing is not something that you want to survive. In that moment, you don’t care if they kill you instantly. You just can’t live in a world without him. Not again. If you could find a way for him to escape, a way to feel him one more time and know that there is a chance that he could be okay, that he could live and learn to love again…well, death wouldn’t be so bad at all.

Before anything could happen though, Mobius pushes you back into place with a firm hand and rises. He runs over to the stand, speaking to the judge in whispers that you can’t decipher. Your lip trembles and you choose to scan the room for an escape route instead of focusing on Mobius, and Loki’s impending doom. When you find Loki again, his eyes are fearful and searching just like yours. You’re too preoccupied to notice when his worried gaze lands back on you. You don’t see when the fear slips from him and turns to calmness for a reason that he can barely understand.

The few seconds that Mobius spends by the stand feel like a lifetime, but his words are worth the wait.

“Alright, Loki you’re coming with us.” You have never felt more grateful for the man in your time here. Mobius takes hold of a collared Loki and guides him to the door. Loki shrugs his hand off and glares at him. “Who is us?” You take that as your cue and rise to fall into step on the opposite side of Loki.

Loki’s eyes find you the moment you’re next to him. The first time you met back in New York, you were young and still in training to fight. They had put you in the field out of desperation. When you came face to face with Loki then, you had felt small and insignificant. His confusion when he wasn’t able to control you had sparked a subtle interest in him, but you were still just an insignificant child in the eyes of a powerful god.

Now, standing next to him, you didn’t feel small in the slightest. You felt just as powerful as he had taught you to be. Even if he didn’t remember the endless time you spent together, the nights you cried over the torment your powers put you through and the days he could barely see himself through the monster he thought he was. Even if he had no memory of picnics in the park, dark nights spent teaching you to dance beneath the stars, movie nights, and laughing as you screamed lyrics at the top of your lungs in an effort to get your family to sing along (Tony, Wanda, and Thor often did); it was okay. All you needed was each other. The rest would fall into place.

“Hi. I think we’ve met before.” You give him a smile and continue walking beside them. Loki’s eyes don’t leave your face and you feel him staring as you all leave the courtroom behind. Finally, he shakes from his thoughts and offers you a soft nod.

“Yes. I believe we have.”

a/n: ahh first chapter done! I really hope you guys like this. please feel free to leave any feedback/suggestions you have to make my writing or story better. I appreciate any interaction so so much xx

Tags: @adefectivedetective @peachlobotomy666 @unfortunatelyymuggle @st6jimmyandtheidiots @cheydanoa @thenerdyniallgirl @jessalynjones1989 @00schasez @lunala-luvgood @floweaus @fangirltrash15 @bandsruinedmylife @mydelusionalworld-7 @uada-animus @randomfangirl7 @effmigentlywithachainsaw @drakesfiance @phantomr0se @payton-1-jones @letscici @strangemaximoff @hassbite @magi-no-aladdin @littlesouthernrebel @jessiejunebug @coppercorn-and-cauldron @orighami @wrappedinlokisarms @dark-night-sky-99 @unicornsandgliiitter @oatballsoffury @themusingsofmany @darkprincessloki92 @lokiedokiee @shegatsby @cherrygeek86 @beckymarvel

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#loki #tom hiddleston #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki odinson x reader #loki imagine #loki imagines #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #loki laufeyson #tva #loki spoilers

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remmushound · 3 years ago

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Beyond the bay chapter 2: Uninvited Visitor

Back at the lair, Leo and Raph couldn’t help but be anxious. It was six. The sun was rising, the city was waking. The shadows that hid them in the night were fading fast, and still there were no signs of Donnie or Mikey. Leo had given them the hour to get their pictures and get back, but it had been almost twice that without word. Raph had suggested calling them but was quickly shut down by Leo; if their brothers happened to be in a position where stealth was mandatory, such an action could easily doom their brothers to being spotted. All they could do was wait.

Simply sitting around and waiting in the living room with his father and brother quickly proved too irksome for Raph to handle. He needed to be moving, doing something to keep his mind occupied and away from the infuriating worry of Donnie and, most importantly, Mikey. Without a word, he dismissed himself from his father and older brother in favor of busying himself with other matters— like getting himself ready for bed.

The red toothbrush was his; the whole color-coding fiasco, as childish as it had grown to be, was useful in keeping his and his brothers’ stuff from getting mixed up. If they hadn’t had been marked with the distinctive bright colors, Raph was sure than one or all of his brothers would have absently selected the wrong toothbrush in their rush to get the nightly routine over with.

Raph started to clean his teeth. Then he gave a curious growl as his arm was ticked with a faint breeze. Wind was very rare this deep in the sewer, and Raph doubted that the old rat or steadfast fearless leader would be rushing enough to be creating a breeze. What then…?

Raph’s attention was drawn beside him, to the closed shower curtain; it seemed it too had caught the breeze, as it was swaying just barely, rings clanking together. Raph put one hand on his sai as he cleared the distance to the tub with a single, long stride. A flash of green had him slamming the curtains open to reveal an empty bathtub.

Raph huffed, his lips curling up to flash canines as he shook his head. There was a slam, and several solid thud-like footsteps that faded away faster than Raph could turn around. The door was closed now, and in the process of bouncing back open.

“Oh hell no!” Raph slammed the door open completely with his shoulder, both hands planted firmly on his sai as he ran back down the hall. “No demon getting my ass today! LEO!”

“What?” Leo’s tone was sharper than he had intended, irritation so strong that it leaked out into the very words he spoke. Then, like it was popped with a needle, the storm clouds of worry poofing away at the sight of Raph, suds overflowing his mouth and toothbrush still hanging out of his lips. “Hey, hey— what’s up?”

“There was a damn demon in the bathroom!”

“What?” Leo narrowed his eyes slowly.

Splinter left Leo’s side in favor of venturing to the second son, raising a hand to stroke the bowed Raph’s cheek with a gentle paw.

The lair was then filled with an alarm of incoming. Leo swore under his breath so his father couldn’t hear as he backed up and prepared for a dash to the weapon room. The voice that came down the tunnel seconds later was one familiar to him.

“Leo!” Donnie came around the corner just as Leo registered his brother's voice. “Leo Leo Leo Leo Leo—“

Donnie shuffled down the tunnel as quickly as he dared risk with the precious cargo in his arms. Six hundred pounds of dead weight was never easy to carry, and several times his footing had started to slip as he descended the sloping entrance. Raph and Leo were there quickly to take the burden off of their brother, Raph taking on the brunt of Mikey’s weight while Leo split his attention between both Mikey and Donnie. The worried father followed quickly, whiskers tickling Mikey’s neck while he weaved to avoid getting under his sons’ feet.

“What happened?” Leo demanded; he was supporting Mikey’s head while the groggy younger turtle tried to swipe him away, muttering some incoherence.

“I don’t know. We were taking pictures and he just shut down. He’s— he’s conscious but— but I don’t know.”

But Donnie did know. At least, he was almost sure he knew. The muscle spasm, the slurred speech, dazed look. The way Mikey was staring and the way he slumped and almost fell off of the roof. Donnie had a theory that clutched him like a cold claw but he knew better than to voice it until it was no longer just a theory, but a proven reality. They made it to the needle room. With Leo’s gentle guidance, he and Raph put Mikey down on the bed while Donnie scrambled to grab all the supplies he needed.

“Mm…” Mikey winced as Donnie held his eyelids open to assess the pupils. Mikey tried to pull away, his arm tensing as he made an attempt to lift it and further resist the exam, but it refused to listen. “Heavy…”

“I know Mike…” Donnie soothed gently, then quickly leaned over to Raph, “Keep him still if you can.”

Raph nodded and put his hands gently on Mikey’s shoulders, leaning in just enough weight to keep Mikey still while Donnie examined the right arm, massaging deft fingers across it. Mikey yelled and tried to sit up, but Raph was there to correct the attempt. He shushed his baby brother gently and leaned his head down to press his forehead to Mikey’s. After a moment, Mikey pressed back and gave a cluck of gratitude. Donne finished up his exam.

“How is he?” Splinter asked, looking up to his purple-clad son. In the black of the rat's eyes reflected worry for his youngest; he took Mikey’s hand in his own and kissed it to let Mikey know he was there. Mikey giggled and squeezed his father's hand in turn.

“He’s awake— that, that’s good right?” Leo asked urgently.

Donnie took a sharp breath through his nose. He opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and let out an exasperated breath.

“Raph— could you get Mikey some water? He’s probably really thirsty.”

“O-oh— yeah.” Despite his agreement, Raph didn't immediately move away. He kept his head pressed against Mikey’s for several seconds longer before a touch on his shoulder made him naturally look up to acknowledge the second presence.

No words were exchanged between Donnie or Raph, the details in their eyes telling the other brother everything they needed to know. Donnie gave a soft chuff, but that was all. Raph left without looking back, because he knew if he did look back, he wouldn’t be able to leave. Get to the kitchen, get lemon water, and get back. That was his task and he repeated it multiple times over in his head before he had even reached the kitchen.

Tap water would be just fine, right? He had already filled up the glass before he shook his head and dumped out the glass. No, his brother deserved better. The water filter was broken yet again as another example of the ‘machines hating Leo’ situation that was a constant in their life. First it was the toaster, and now it was like almost every kitchen appliance fearless touched rejected him. He was still adamant that Donnie must have programmed it to always happen. Raph laughed and shook his head as various examples of the struggle between turtle and machine came to his mind. A bottled water would do just fine. He poured half of it into a dense mug, then added ice because he knew how Mikey loved the crunch. He got the lemons last; this was his kitchen, his space, so he knew exactly where to find the fruit and the knife appropriate to cut with.

Raph added half of the slices; instead of just throwing the other half of the sour fruit away, he simply tossed it into his mouth and ate it whole. Bitter as it was, food was still food, and he refused to waste one bit of it. Another rush of wind tickled Raph’s carapace, but to the turtle it was like being hit with a brick. Especially when he saw the specter appear behind him, hurrying past the kitchen door with a steady clank clank clank of heavy footsteps. Raph swore loudly, rushing to place the water on the counter and free his hands up to grab his sai. Whatever that thing was, no way it could be left wandering the lair with his little brother hurt! Not if he had anything to say about it, and he did.

He pursued the distant steps, his strides long enough to close the distance in enough time to see the curtains that sectioned off Donnie’s lab flutter.

“Got you now you little—” Raph yanked the curtains open, flashing his weapons in a threat against—!

Nothing. There was nothing there. There was no spot in Donnie’s lab that could hide anyone of any significant size, but maybe if the intruder was small…? That was the only explanation because Donnie’s lab was tucked into a corner and there would have been no way for the stranger to escape without Raph seeing him. Raph started to look in every nook and cranny that held the possibility of hiding someone. Under desks, behind machines, behind the monitors. Whatever it was had disappeared into thin air! Or maybe…

Raph found his eyes drifting to a particular artifact on Donnie’s shelf; an M-shaped medallion with a cross through the middle of it, glistening gold and orange. A fiberglass casing protected the special gift from their counterparts that they had yet to use. The past two years had been very eventful, and it was with a heavy sigh Raph realized that, with all the visits their counterparts had made to see them, they had yet to return the favor and visit the other world. Even after going so long without a visit from their other selves, Leo had still denied every request to visit them instead. Raph felt a weight in his throat. He missed his friends, and he hoped they were okay. It had been six months with no word from them…

“Raph?” Leo’s sharp words cut through Raph’s somber thoughts. Raph looked over his shoulder to see Leo come into the lab, nostrils flaring his frustration as he confronted his brother. “What are you doing in here?”

“I… I was just…” Raph didn't know how to explain it, so his words fell short. He half-motioned over to the pendant gift, and then around at the lab.

Leo sighed and shook his head. “You were supposed to be getting water for Mikey. Come on.”

Raph wanted to think of a snarky remark, but nothing came to mind as he followed Leo out of the lab.

#a demon huh?#who could it be one wonders~#I know of course #but you don’t #huehuehuehue #bayverse turtles #bay/rise crossover #bay/rise #rottmnt #bayverse leo #bayverse raph #bayverse donnie #bayverse mikey #rise mikey #rise leo #rise donnie #rise raph

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crystalgirl259 · 3 years ago

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Guilty Pleasures Chapter 1

SUMMARY: A demon Kai and an angel Zane, longtime acquaintances who, having grown accustomed to life on Earth as representatives of Heaven and Hell, seek to prevent the coming of the Armageddon...

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Current theories on the creation of the universe stated that if it were created at all and didn't just start it came into being about fourteen billion years ago. The Earth was generally supposed to be about four and a half billion years old. These dates were incorrect. Some medieval scholars put the date of the creation at 3760 BC while others put creation as far back as 5508 BC. But these were also incorrect. Archbishop James Ussher claimed that Heaven and the Earth were created on Sunday, the twenty-first of October, 4004 BC, at nine in the morning.

This too was incorrect, by almost a quarter of an hour.

It was created at 9:13 in the morning. The whole business with the fossilized dinosaur skeletons was a joke that paleontologists haven't seen yet. This proved that God did not play dice with the universe. He played an ineffable game of his own devising. For everyone else, it was like playing poker in a pitch-dark room, for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiled all the time. To understand the true significance of what that means, we need to begin earlier.

A little more than 6,000 years earlier, to be precise.

Just after the beginning. It started, as it will end, with a garden, in this case, the Garden of Eden, and with an apple. It was a nice day, but all the days had been nice. There had been rather more than seven of them so far, and rain hadn't been invented yet. But the storm clouds gathering east of Eden suggested that the first thunderstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big one...

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Zane fretted as he stood near the lip of the stone ledge, his shining robes shining in the light along with the white, almost glowing, feathers of his large wings. The first two humans off in the distance, Adam and Eve, had barely made their way out into the new world and they were both already in danger. A large male lion made a beeline from nowhere toward them and was now intending on making them extinct. The young angel didn't think this was going to go well.

Thank goodness they weren't unarmed, the angel consoled himself.

Before they left, he gave Eve his shurikens of ice gifted to him by the high angels. He was surprised to see Adam wielding a sword of fire, a weapon not of Heaven, but considering what had happened, he wasn't too concerned about it. Knowing that they had means of protection helped Zane's mind rest, but only a little. The weather was fair, aside from the rapidly building clouds. At least that was a comfort to know. A kind, warm breeze fluttered his clean robe around in a playful way.

It felt wonderful to the angel, but even better how it ran through his unsheathed white wings.

He flexed them out to get a better feel. It felt good to have them free from their confines. He had been practicing getting used to having them put away for his assignment on this new planet. They had warned him upstairs that he couldn't afford to be seen by 'God's Little Projects' down here. Those were their words, not his own. Before Zane embarked, God himself told him they wouldn't be able to handle it due to now learning 'jealousy', whatever that meant.

When he asked him what it was, he said the young angel would find out in time, plus all the other ones.

He still didn't know why God didn't tell him, but God had always worked in mysterious ways. Don't interfere too much. That was the rule all angels lived by. Be ever watchful, a mentor if needed, provide guidance if asked, but that was it. Not too difficult, or so they kept telling him, and already he broke the rule. Now he had more trouble on the mind. There was only so much to do when watching over the birth of a new species. To be so limited to what needs to be done simply wasn't fair.

Not that he condoned rules should be broken.

But this was not going to be easy. His toes curled on the hard surface when he felt that other presence approach closer. It was a sort of tugging sensation that came from deep inside him. He thought it was curious. That never happened before, except when that thing first showed up. He knew it was nearby anyway. At times it felt as though it was hovering just out of sight, watching. But he had hoped it would leave. It felt different than anything he had ever known, and he didn't like it one bit.

Not when everything was so new.

So he promptly chose to ignore it. It was just a lowly serpent demon anyway. Granted, that filthy Hell beast was most likely the reason he had a chance of being fired before he could do his job. Perhaps everyone would understand. They were angels, after all, forgiveness and compassion were at the very root of their cores. Zane rubbed his temple. He had only one job. He hadn't even been here for very long and already he morally mucked it up.

He would be the laughing stock upstairs.

The only other thing he could possibly get wrong now is if Eden caught fire. Then he would officially be out of a job. Zane started wondering if he should have been more aggressive about it and really told that serpent what for. He never was very good at this soldier of Heaven thing or asserting himself in general. Zane truly believed that someone else would be better suited for this than he.

"What do you make of it?" A voice suddenly asked, shattering the silence. Zane jumped, the voice startling him from his own musings. He hadn't noticed he was no longer alone. He was shocked that the creature had yet to attack him, wondering if they were friendly, but that would be outlandish because the very thought is preposterous, blasphemous even. Their kind would never mingle with his. Not without bloodshed, anyway. It simply wasn't done.

The angel turned to his left and couldn't help but do a double-take to the creature next to him.

It was male, dressed in dark red robes, with amber snake-like eyes, beautiful tanned skin, a toned body, and brown hair shaped in a way that reminded Zane of fire. The back of the demon's hands and up his arms were dusted with dark red snake scales. His finger and toenails were incredibly sharp and black. Zane couldn't take his eyes off it, completely transfixed. He almost didn't believe that that was the serpent. He didn't know it had a vessel, let alone a silky pair of feathered, crimson wings with black tips.

When Zane saw the wings he realized that this was not just some ordinary demon.

It was one of the Fallen. That was fascinating to Zane, as he had never met one of them. In fact, if Zane was entirely honest with himself, this dark one was a mixture of striking, exotic, and becharming. Now it was staring at him with those amber serpent eyes. For some reason, they didn't repulse the angel. It was then that Zane remembered that the snake had asked him something and it was probably best to respond. He should also stop thinking of it as an 'it'.

That demon was evidently much more than that and Zane suddenly felt like he was being rude, even if the demon couldn't read minds.

Zane smiled awkwardly, then concluded he had no idea what the creature said.

"Sorry, what?" Zane asked and the brunette pointed out towards the humans.

"That, right there, the whole tiger thing." He clarified and Zane followed the demon's finger.

"That's a lion." Zane corrected.

"Whatever, don't you think it's a bit much? I mean, they just got out, are finding their footing, and the first thing they come across on this big round planet is this aggressive beast?"

"No one said it would be easy," Zane said, even if the other had a point.

"It's trying to eat them!" The demon gawked at him.

"Look, I don't like it any more than you do, uh...?" Zane trailed off when he realized he hadn't gotten the demon's name if it had one. The brunette quickly caught on to why Zane paused and smiled faintly.

"Kai." He answered the unasked question.

"Kai, thank you, but these things are not our decisions to make."

"You're not about to sprout some Holier-Than-Thou jibberish at me are you?" Kai asked as he gave him a peculiar look. Zane wasn't sure how to answer that. That was all anyone ever talked about upstairs. The very idea that someone wouldn't want to, let alone calling it jibberish, preach about it and discuss its many glorious wonders was unheard of. When the angel didn't answer, the dark one rolled his eyes.

"You were, weren't you?"

"There's nothing wrong with that." Zane countered.

"No no, of course not." Kai mocked. "You're within your right to justify a reason as to why God's human race failed at the get-go."

"I'm not trying to do any such thing!" Zane said, growing flustered. "B-Besides, look! The male seems to be fending its adversary off brilliantly on his own! They're obviously capable of taking care of themselves; I only hope that this will be the worst of it, at least for today." He frowned in concern as a roll of thunder broke in, causing them both to look around for the source. Detecting it was from the sky, they exchange looks then went back to watching the battle for survival in front of them.

They stood in oddly comfortable silence before Kai broke it.

"Wait, so that's a lion?" He gasped, almost in awe.

"Yes, It is."

"Never seen one of them before."

"Sorry?" Zane blinked in confusion.

"I said, I've never seen one of those before."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I've never seen a lion before, so I would never have known they looked like that." He shrugged and Zane could only stare. "What?" Kai asked in a rather prickly manner.

"Nothing," The angel squeaked as he turned away, a slight blush framing the tips of his ears. He didn't realize he was ogling again. "Just, find it surprising that one dead animal isn't familiar with an equally dangerous one."

"It's not like I was there when they were created, was a little bit busy with another matter at that time, as you well know." Kai returned as another boom of thunder rumbled closer over their heads. Only this time it had been accompanied by a shocking bright snap of light that streaked across the sky. Both of their sets of wings flinched outward and lightly fluffed at the surprise of it. Zane let out an embarrassed chuckle and willed his feathers to settle down.

He could see out of the corner of his eye the other trying to do the same.

He cleared his throat and thought it best to continue where they left off.

"So, therefore, am I left to understand that, based on what you've said, you've never witnessed a tiger as well?" He asked and Kai immediately clammed up.

"Why do you ask?"

"It's a simple question."

"I don't know about that."

"Really? Do tell, I'd love to hear it."

"Has it gotten a bit stuffy out here?"

"No, I find it quite pleasing in all truthfulness."

"More cloudy things are building up."

"Stop trying to change the subject, please." Zane all but begged and Kai eyed him carefully.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm being ridiculed?"

"I would never," He said with all honesty. Kai looked around as if someone might hear, grimaced, and leaned in.

"Promise you won't tell?"

"Oh, may the Lord himself strike me down if I should ever utter a syllable to another living soul," Zane promised and he clasped his hands as if in prayer. Kai gave him a doubtful look, but eventually relented and grumbled with an obnoxious huff.

"No, are you satisfied now?! I've never seen a tiger, a lion, or fucking whale!" The demon cried as he closed his eyes and flinched again when more thunder rumbled closer. The sky was turning all below it several shades darker, growing ever so closer to swallowing the bright sun. The angel was oblivious to this, however.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've never seen a whale either." Zane smiled. It took a moment, but Zane noticed the smirk flit across that surprisingly pretty face.

"It doesn't," Kai replied as he glanced at him all the same with those gemstone eyes and once again they slipped into a pleasant silence. Zane suddenly had a thought. If Kai didn't seem to know about other animals, did he know about himself?

"Now Uhm, don't take this the wrong way but, you do know what you are, correct?" He asked carefully.

"You mean besides an angel-turned-demon who's damned for all eternity?" Kai said in a sarcastic tone.

"Yes."

"Then, of course, I know."

"Excellent! Care to say it out loud?"

"I already told you; my name's Kai," The demon grinned. He felt his heart miss a beat, and not in a good way. The thump was alarmingly prominent like his vessel-body was trying to alert him to take note of what this creature was saying. There was no possible way this demon could be this naive. Something else was amiss.

"Yes, I know your name, but I'm asking if you know what you are; do you know what you are?" He asked again and Kai's expression gradually changed from enjoyment to being perplexed. His brow furrowed as he stared off, eyes flicking around as if searching for something but simply grew more confused.

"What am I?" Kai finally asked, getting annoyed by the question.

"A serpent, dear," Zane replied for the demon. Evidently, Kai's face fell back to puzzlement once more and Zane's mouth fell open. It was evident that word meant nothing to the demon. "You don't know what a serpent is, do you?" He asked, almost sadly, Kai shrugged it off.

"What of it?"

"That's what you are!"

"So? What's so important with needing to know the ins and outs of a serpent? Why do you care if I know or not?" Kai snapped, experimenting with the new word in his mouth.

"No need to get upset, I was only trying to help," Zane said as he raised his arms in defense to try to quickly diffuse the tension. He watched Kai focus on the humans again, and it was clear something he had said or done bothered the demon immensely. He felt terrible, and then suddenly that scent came back. Only recently Zane had caught this aroma in the air. It comes and goes with the wind, but the longer he had been here the less deniable it had become.

Never had it been invasive or overbearing, but the angel noticed he could pick it out no matter what kind of stronger scents surrounded it.

Right now, this very moment, it was hitting him stronger than it ever had before.

"Looks like the lion's down," Kai added, noting how successful the humans were doing so far. Another rumble of thunder accompanied by that bright flash pushed ever closer. Perhaps Kai had caught a whiff of the scent?

"Do you smell that?" The angel asked, sniffing the air.

"What?" Kai asked and Zane realized he had made a poor judgment.

"Never mind." The angel shrugged off awkwardly, but thankfully the demon didn't push it. They stood there in silence for a short while, before Kai glanced over at Zane, and his snake eyes suddenly narrowed.

"Wait, where are your shurikens anyway? I thought you had a pair that froze anything they touched?" He asked and Zane froze in fear. "Did you have one, or didn't you? Because now I'm confused."

"How do you mean?" The angel asked as he began to feel uneasy.

"Well, your presence here no longer makes sense, so what are you doing here Snowflake?"

"I'm-"

"Are you lost?"

"No, I'm... you're trying to confuse me." Zane accused as his heart started to race,

"I'm trying to confuse you?" Kai almost laughed, and this made Zane even more defensive.

"Yes! That's what your kind do and I will not be swayed into it!" He stated in the strongest voice he could muster at that moment, his chest puffing out slightly as he did. Zane knew he was being cornered. He knew this whole thing was a setup to get him to lose ground or faith or doubt himself in his duties for the choices he'd made and how thanks to him everything was ruined. But that wasn't what upset Zane. He was upset that he fell for it.

He had failed again.

God must have been testing him early and he has failed another one. Or perhaps not? He may have caught it in time, he could still redeem himself if he stayed strong.

"You're the one who's doing the confusing here," Kai lectured. "You're supposed to have some freezing shurikens, which I could've sworn you had, and that would make sense for a Cherub to have in order to guard the Garden of Eden, but let's face it, you're terrible at guarding, and you don't have your shurikens so I ask you again; what are you doing here?" He scowled and a boom of thunder emphasized the demon's point. Zane took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, eyes closed.

All he had to do was be honest, true, and stop being distracted by the alluring visage before him.

"I...I gave them away."

"You gave them away?!"

"Shh! Not so loud!" He panicked, already forgetting the pep-talk he gave himself. "I don't want the head office to hear! Besides, they're not lost or anything; they're right there, see? The humans have it now." The angel explained and pointed to the humans slowly fading in the distance with a pair of remarkably bright-looking objects in the hands of one of them. Kai looked back to the tiny figures, then to the angel. Then back to the figures, and once again to the angel.

Then suddenly, what Zane could only describe as a ridiculously big stupid grin spread over the demon's face, the creature did an unexplainable thing.

He started to laugh, laugh, and laugh some more. It became so severe they turned into fits, gripping his stomach. That damned thing lost its balance and fell to the floor. He rolled around, it wracking his body to near spasm levels, and during it all, he had the utter nerve to speak to the angel at the same time.

"Oh, I would love to be there for your first report! Glad to know I'm not the only one who interfered." He cackled, and his grin grew when he saw the confusion on Zane's face. "What? Where did you think Adam got that flaming sword from?" He laughed and Zane gasped at the realization that Kai had been the one to give Adam the sword, a weapon of Hell. "I hope it doesn't turn out that they aren't too bright yet when it comes to violent weaponry and the use of fire and ice so they somehow kill themselves!"

Zane's paled, even more, when Kai's words sank in.

The angel finally realized that he could get in a great deal of trouble for this. Everything Kai pointed out was more than plausibly true and may happen once the humans were out of sight. This was serious. Even so, he couldn't stop a giggle bubble up to the surface. Watching Kai, he found out, was contagious. It started small but soon grew to a level that was painful to hold in. He tried to stifle it, tried to bite it back with his teeth against his tongue, but it was hopeless.

Zane covered his mouth and did his best to hide it from the cackling demon.

"That's not funny, I beseech you, stop laughing!" He tried to say normally but cracked on the last word. He clenched a fist and nearly begged the other to spare him. Kai rolled to face him and Zane was almost lost again when he saw tears running down his cheeks. He had no choice but to turn away and fisted his hands tightly by his sides. "No! No, I refuse to believe in your trickery! This isn't a joke!" The angel yelled, not caring what he said so long as this lark would end.

Within time, Kai calmed down, breathing heavily.

"They're going to be fine, Snowflake, I'm only teasing you," He said while a chuckle or two still found its way out. "Look how well they have handled themselves against their first threat, and they've only just set foot out there; if I hadn't given them that sword and you hadn't given them the shurikens they would be torn to pieces by now, we saved them." Zane heard from behind him a tired sigh. The loudest thunder roll cracked out, the very appearance of the clouds above threatening their next level to come soon.

The flutter from inside Zane's chest came back.

But, somehow it was stronger this time around. He turned back to face the other being and took notice of how Kai laid there. Wings relaxed, hands resting on the stomach, one leg bent. He was comfortable. Kai, an evil enemy, was content to lay there in his presence. Zane could easily smite him. He would technically be within reason, for what Kai had done concerning the apple. It would be simple, quick, and clean. But that never even crossed his pure mind.

He strode over to the brunette and reached down a hand with a winning smile of his own.

"My name is Zane; it's nice to meet you." He introduced and Kai's eyes widened. He wasn't expecting that. He stared at the hand as if he had never seen its kind before. He appeared unsure of what step to take next. Zane gave him time, not pulling away yet. Soon enough, Kai eventually smiled.

"Hello, Zane, it's nice to meet you, too," He replied and reached up with his own hand, clasped the inviting one, and was hoisted up. Zane nearly dropped the demon, however. Once they touched, the contact was not at all what he was expecting. He cried out, yanking his hand away, and jumped back. His other hand clasped it around the wrist and pulled it close. Zane stared from his hand to Kai in either astonishment or fear. He couldn't decide which it was.

Kai just raised an eyebrow at him, perplexed as to what had happened.

"Oh! Forgive me but, you're so hot! To the touch, I mean!" He stammered as he did his best to explain but not offend.

"Naturally." Kai shrugged. Zane shook his head, confused.

"This is a normal occurrence?"

"Of course," The demon said casually, amused by the reaction from the angel. He crossed his arms, took a deep, over-exaggerated breath. "Being a fallen angel, or more accurate, a demon from the fiery pits of Hell now, so to answer your question; being boiling hot is normal for demons like me," He smiled. The next boom of thunder rumbled on for some time. It was as if the sky was growling its impatience for being ignored.

"Is that all?"

"Yep," Kai replied, but he didn't seem to care. The brunette then opened his mouth and exhaled. The air in front of it appeared to ripple several inches outward. Zane walked up to it, mesmerized, and like a baby who was still testing out the world for the first time, he reached out a hand and ran it through it. It was warm, heated air coming out. It wasn't painful in the slightest. The angel beamed as he wiggled his fingers around it. He kept it up until Kai closed his mouth, grinning at Zane's blush.

Zane was about to agree, then stopped himself and wondered why this was brought up in the first place.

"Anywho, going back to your shuriken conversation with His Almighty, if you can't find humor even in the direst situations, then what's the point of it?" He asked and Zane visibly shook his wings at the way Kai mockingly talked about the Lord. Ignoring that, however, Zaen wasn't sure what he thought of that advice, but he secretly tucked it away in the back of his mind all the same.

"You'll be alright, he loves all of you unquestionably," Kai added and Zane paused. Did he hear that right? Had a fallen angel, a being who willfully rebelled against God just casually admit the Lord adored all of them? Without a second thought about it? What was going on here? Zane turned his head and glanced at the demon. The brunette was rigid stiff. Amber eyes hard, staring intently straight ahead. Jaw clenched. He could see the dark one's fingers turning white from how hard he was gripping his own arms.

So it was a mistake.

He didn't mean to say it. Now at least something about this villain makes sense to him.

"I wonder how far up we are?" Kai suddenly blurted out with a jerk of his head, and then just took off, running over and standing right on the edge of the wall cliff. His red and black wings thrusting out just so as to counter the body weight from tumbling over. Zane gasped and ran after but stayed himself some steps later. For a split moment, he chastised himself for the idea of wanting to save the enemy. But most of the time he was too busy worrying about the brunette disappearing suddenly from his sight.

The wind had picked up some, and was a tad rougher on Kai's clothes and hair, yanking and blowing it around like a dare to take another step.

The demon suddenly moaned, but Zane couldn't tell what he meant. The angel moved fast and was standing next to them once the groan had been uttered.

"Are you alright?" He panicked.

"I don't like heights," The demon mumbled. The eyes were closed and they appeared to be swaying.

"Then get away from the edge, you silly thing!" Zane shouted, grasping the other and guiding him down to safety. When he unclosed his eyes, he got defensive.

"I just wanted to see how far down it was!" He hissed angrily, but Zane just rolled his eyes and neither of them said anything more on the subject. Water from the skies began to fall. When it hit them they shied away from it on the first drops. Zane figured it out quicker than the other one did. Kai seemed a little lost to this experience, unsure of what to do or how to react to it. Kai must have sensed eyes on him, for he turned to catch the angel's icy orbs.

Zane, at this point he stopped trying to reason it, opened an arm, lifted a wing, and beckoned the other in.

To say he was surprised the demon actually moved closer was a hardball to juggle. So many unusual and unexpected things happened in such as short time. He wasn't even sure how he felt. He didn't seem the least bit repulsed when Kai stood so close they nearly touched shoulders, and he could feel the heat of the other's temperature radiating onto him. The demon kept glancing at him, shifting on his bare feet. Eventually, he opened his mouth and asked what seemed to be on his mind.

"No hard feelings between us, yes? After all; I was only doing what I was so ordered to, on pain of repercussion, and all that." He said, looking a little nervous. This made the pale angel go quiet. Unsure of whether to trust what this thing was saying or if he was lying to him and this was planned the whole time. Whichever it was, he hadn't the heart to be cruel.

"No, I daresay, no hard feelings; it's too early for that yet." He replied and another silence surrounded them. Every once in a while, they would both stick their hands out to catch the water droplets on their palms then bring them in under the protection of the angel's wing. Even if they both refused to admit it, Kai and Zane felt at peace at that moment. Where it was just the two of them, huddled together as they experienced the first rainfall with the young planet Earth...

#ninjago #ninjago kai #ninjago zane #Guilty Pleasures #oppositeshipping #ninjago fanfiction

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e350tb · 3 years ago

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The Owl House: A Blight on Gravesfield (Chapter Four)

Four

A trying day comes to an end.

So what happened to Philip Wittelsbane?

The Wittelsbanes have always maintained that Philip and John were set upon by a roving band of ‘Indian Braves’ - their words. That John fought bravely, but Philip’s head was ‘cleaved in twain’ by a tomahawk, and that he had no recourse but to abandon his brother. That was, until recently, the generally accepted story. Except in the 1970s, historians actually bothered to ask the Pequot people what their histories said, and they were adamant that Philip could not have been killed by them.

Assuming the oral history of the Pequot is correct, and given the near total lack of any settler-Pequot contact in Gravesfield at this time in written record, we can safely assume that, what actually happened?

Another theory is that John murdered Philip, or that they fought a duel and that John emerged the victor. That’s currently the most likely theory, although the Wittelsbanes fervently deny it, but it can’t be confirmed. Archeologists have never found any human remains that might have belonged to Philip, and there’s been a few digs over the years, mostly related to the Battle of Gravesfield. Of course, the body could have been moved or dumped in the river - we don’t know.

There’s a theory that Philip lived a little longer and died of disease; but if so, why does he disappear from the record? And why would Thomas Goodfaith Masterson write that John and Philip went into the woods, and only John came back?

Then there’s the fun theory, which I love, but which is almost certainly false; the theory that the Earth opened up and Beezlebub dragged Philip to hell for his congress with witches. That theory started being popular in the late 1760s, when John’s descendent, Matlock Wittlesbane, donated Philip’s writings to the public library, but it had been suspected by Gravesfield residents as early as the 1660s. Often this story includes a nice little fight between John and Philip, which gets framed as a great battle between good and evil, and ends with a blood-covered John arriving back home, falling into Thomas’ embrace, and proclaiming; “It is done! By the Lord, it is done!”

Demons, fights, blood, this story has everything! And it’s almost certainly false.

So what is the truth? The answer might be in the personal journal of John Wittlesbane, which we know exists, but is in the care of the Wittelsbane estate, and they’ve never let anybody look at it. They say it is a private, family document.

Which doesn’t help dissuade us from the whole ‘murder’ hypothesis.

Now I want to have some time for discussion, so we’ll close the lecture here. I want to raise a question for you; apart from what I’ve mentioned, what other possible explanations are there for Philip’s disappearance?

....

The living arrangements were tight, but not uncomfortable.

Certainly, the pair of air beds were close, but there was enough of a gap between them (and the couch) that there wasn’t a lack of personal space. A pair of pillows and a few old, warm blankets completed the ensemble; Camila had even fished out an old plush bunny from the bottom of the closet.

Camila, who had just finished pumping the pair of beds, sat on the couch, mopping her brow.

“It’s always harder than it looks,” she muttered.

Amity rubbed her arm, looking a little embarrassed.

“You didn’t have to do this, Ms. Noceda,” she muttered.

Camila smiled.

“You’re a guest,” she replied. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Yeah, Amity, this is the Castello Noceda we’re talking about!” exclaimed Luz. “We’ve gotta keep our AirBnB rating up!”

“...Air B and what?”

The door opened; Vee walked in, carrying a fluffy red blanket and an extra pillow under her arm.

“So, uh, since you’ll be wanting your room back and all…” she said.

“Vee, no!” exclaimed Luz. “It’s okay, you can stay up… wait, hold on, don’t I have a bunk bed?”

She glanced at the two air beds in confusion.

“I thought you’d want to keep your friend company,” Camila said, shrugging. “I mean, it is her first night in a strange place.”

Luz smiled.

“Thanks, mami,” she said, giving her mother a hug. “You always think of these things.”

Camila smiled, but then frowned.

“We still need to talk tomorrow,” she said.

Luz sighed and bowed her head.

“I know,” she replied.

“And not just about the Boiling Isles,” added Camila. “Vee’s been going to school in your place. We need to work out how she can keep going now that you’re back.”

Luz tilted her head.

“Does she… want to?”

“Of course!” replied Vee. “I wanna see my friends every day, you know?”

Luz looked at her like she’d grown an extra head.

“...friends?”

She swallowed.

“Yeah, we’ll talk about that tomorrow,” she said. “I just…”

She yawned loudly.

“...today took a lot outta me,” she muttered.

“Cariño, I feel like I’ve aged twenty years in the last few hours,” sighed Camila. “I think we all need to get some sleep.”

She smiled.

“Goodnight Vee, goodnight Amity.” She turned to her daughter. “Goodnight, Luz. I am so glad you’re back.”

“I…”

Luz’ eyes shot down to the floor.

“Me too, mami.”

Camila flicked off the light, and she and Vee departed. Luz sighed, collapsing onto the air bed - then she squealed a little as she bounced.

“Forgot how bouncy these things are,” she muttered.

She turned on her side. Amity lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her expression was hard to read.

“Amity?”

“I miss Ghost,” sighed Amity.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know where she went,” she added. “I guess I was just so focused on helping you that I forgot to look out for her. Look at me; top student and I can’t even look after my Palisman.”

“Hey, I’m sure she’s okay,” Luz replied. “She’s probably just waiting for you in your room. Or maybe using Edric as a scratching post again.”

Amity snorted.

“Honestly, I kind of hope she stays away from there,” she admitted. “I don’t think my parents are going to be in a particularly good mood at the moment.”

Luz frowned. “They wouldn’t hurt Ghost, would they? I mean, they’re strict but they’re not-”

Amity turned, looking her in the eyes, and Luz trailed off.

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” she said.

“I… honestly I’d rather not talk about it,” sighed Amity.

Luz nodded.

They lay in silence for a few minutes. The rain still pattered on the window - it was starting to die down now, and the wind had almost stopped completely.

“Belos has Eda, doesn’t he?” asked Luz. “And King?”

Amity nodded.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t do anything…”

“Amity, I’m not gonna be mad because you couldn’t stop Emperor Belos,” said Luz. “He’s Emperor Belos. You don’t get to be an evil emperor without getting really good at magic and junk.”

She lay on her back, scratching her chin.

“Or maybe you do? I dunno, I didn’t really listen to that history class on Napoleon.”

“Napole-who?”

“Human thing.”

She sighed.

“We’re gonna get through this,” she said. “For Eda, and for King, and for Lilith and Raine and… I dunno, whoever Belos has messed with. And then…”

She ran a hand through her hair.

“...then maybe I can get mom to understand… everything,” she said.

“Well, you’ve got a better chance than with my parents,” said Amity.

“I dunno, it’s still… I shouldn’t be this scared, you know?” Luz shrugged. “She’s my mom. I love her. So why does the thought of actually talking to her make me so anxious?”

Amity shrugged.

“Families are hard.”

Luz snorted, turning back onto her side.

“At least I’ve still got you,” she said.

Amity’s face turned red, and she rubbed the back of her hair.

“I’m not that great,” she replied. “Eda or King would’ve been better.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short!” said Luz. “And besides…”

She blushed, smiling.

“...King doesn’t have pretty eyes like yours.”

Amity laughed, her face becoming redder still.

“Hey, uh, they’re, uh, they’re not as pretty as yours…”

The two snorted and broke into giggles.

Outside, the rain stopped completely, and the world was still. Tomorrow awaited, with all it’s myriad uncertainties, but for now, they had each other.

That was enough.

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #camila noceda #vee #a blight on gravesfield #writing #fanfiction #lumity

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alma-berry · 5 years ago

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Kit’s Secret Fire Message # 15

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Ty glared at his scrambled eggs. It was what he was used to eat in the morning, even at the Scholomance, but today the mere prospect of eating made his stomach squirm. Eat, he ordered himself, and shoved the fork into his mouth. He didn’t manage to to finish his plate, not with Kit sitting at the table, as far as possible from him, annoyingly not looking at him.

There were shadows under his blue eyes, and Ty wondered if he managed to get some sleep at all. He stayed up late, straying to hear the sound of the front door open, to know when Kit came back, but at some point he just collapsed into an uneasy sleep. As soon as he woke up, he called for Livvy and asked if she saw or heard anything, but she simply shook her head.

Kit wore fresh clothes though, not those he wore to the shadow market, and his fair hair was damp and smelled faintly of lavender, Ty noticed when he passed by him. That must mean he came back, or stayed somewhere else during the night. He had a hard time not thinking of the second option, of the werewolf boy in the market, of Kit’s shattered expression as he left the institute last night.

“Ok, so basically, we just need to go and pay that warlock a visit. Ask him if he knows something about the demons, right? That’s the only thing you managed to figure out last night?” Carl barked reproachfully at Kit.

In response, Kit narrowed his eyes and said “Yes,” with such venom Ty’s head popped up from his plate. “Did you manage to bring better results, with your undercover contacts?” He sneered at him.

Carl blushed but thankfully kept his mouth shut.

“It’s a good lead, Kit. We should definitely start there and see where it turns out.” Adam gave Kit a warm, encouraging smile. “If our initial theory is right, we don’t have much time to waste.. so let’s get ready. Kit, will you join us?”

“No,” Ty sprang to his feet and felt his cheeks burn with fierce intensity. Carl and Adam stared at him in confusion, but Kit wasn’t. He was glaring at his clinched fists with anger. Ty hasten to correct himself.

“I mean, we can’t all go. Something Hypatia said made it sound like he won’t appreciate a large party. I’ll go, with Kit.”

That made Kit look up at him with suspicion, but he didn’t turn down Ty’s proposition, not yet, which made him feel a little bit better.

Carl, on the other hand, lashed out immediately.

“You can’t go alone to see a warlock, Blackthorn. Not one you don’t know of it’s-“

“His. Not it’s. And I am more than capable of going alone to wherever I want, Carl, you know that very well. I don’t need your authorization, or your guidance.” Ty was no child. He knew he was younger than most of them, but he was capable just as they were, if not more. Especially in the case of Carl Lindquist.

“And in any case, I won’t be alone. I’ll be with Kit”. Ty felt Kit’s eyes on him like a thousand tiny prickles, but he didn’t dare to look his way.

“But, Ty…” Adam started with a soft, measured voice, “What do you mean by something Hypatia said? You weren’t there, were you?”

Ty felt the blood drain out of his face, and tried to think of a logical explanation for why he would know this information if he supposedly only heard about Kit’s conversation in the market this morning, for the first time. But before he could come up with something reliable, Kit spoke.

“I told him about it last night, he stayed up and waited for me.”

He said it so casually, with a steady voice and an honest expression. Ty snapped his mouth shut and tried hard not to look guilty.

Kit had lied for him. He covered up his stupid mistake, even though he was obviously still angry at him. Ty didn’t understand if it meant that there was a chance that he could be forgiven, but it gave him hope. That’s why he wanted to be alone with Kit, so he could apologise, so he could make it right.

Ty thought this was probably the right time for them to leave, but apparently Carl wasn’t done with his questioning.

“Well why didn’t you tell us that too? What else are you hiding from us, Herondale?” He said the last word like he was talking about about the filth under his fingernails.

Ty heard the drumbeat of his own heart loud in his ears and moved faster than he ever thought himself capable of. His face was inches away from Carl’s. The proximity wasn’t something he would ever have chosen, but in that moment, his rage was stronger than his need of space. What he needed was for Carl to understand what would happen if he would speak another word about Kit, ever again.

“Don’t talk to him like this”, his voice sounded stone cold, even to his ears, but he kept on regardless. “You have no reason to-“

“It’s not even his investigation! He’s not even supposed to know what we’re doing!”

Carl’s face was shining an ugly red that crept down to his neck, sprouting fiery angry blotches all over it.

“You’re right,” Ty said slowly, barely able to restrain himself from reaching for his weapon’s belt. He wasn’t a violent person, and his preferred way of fighting was tactical, with his knowledge and not with his fists, but he was a Shadowhunter, and the angel’s blood in his veins screamed of fierce protectiveness.

“It’s not Kit’s investigation. It’s not his responsibility at all, and yet, he’s the one that solved every piece of this case that we couldn’t. He helped us for days, even though he doesn’t even have to stay here. It’s not his duty and -“

“It’s his duty as a Shadow-“

“It’s not his duty to sit here and listen to your insults,” Ty’s voice rang loud and sharp, “He has done nothing to earn this treatment.”

Carl’s voice as he answered made him sound like a petulant child, “Well he’s an ass!”

Ty opened his mouth to protest but Kit was on him like a panther, lurking in the shadows, just waiting for an opportunity to strike.

“Oh is that right, Carl? Let’s talk about your increased interest in my ass, shall we? Personally I know a grate deal of the subject of bottoms.”

“I’m sure you do” Carl’s grunt was barely audible. Ty knew that Kit would never had teased him on the matter if he didn’t insult Ty like he did when they first met, though Carl’s discomfort was written plainly on his narrow face.

“Oh yes..” Kit went on, mercilessly, “Of many kinds”.

Thankfully, Adam rose to his feet and called in an authoritative voice, “As much as I’m truly fascinated by this conversation, if you plan on visiting the warlock, you must leave soon.”

Ty took a step back and felt Carl’s instant relief. Kit was already by the door, but Ty hesitated for a second before facing Carl once again.

He didn’t look at his face, he had no doubt that Carl would hear every word he had to say. He looked intently at his hands, trembling only slightly, but his voice was low and steady. “Remember what I said. Don’t talk to him like this, ever again.”

They walked in silence for what seemed like half an hour, but was probably only fifteen minutes. Usually, Kit would have felt uncomfortable, forced to fill the empty gaps with an idle chatter, but this was not the case. Not that it was a serine, pleasant walk. He was still angry, more angry than he felt for years.

He was lied to for all of his childhood, brought up to believe in secrets, trickery and in a life of self service. Everything had a price, and nothing should have been freely given.

But he went through quite a lot since those dark days in the basement of their Los Angeles home. Now he was loved by people that asked for nothing in return, and found that he was capable of loving them more fiercely than he ever thought was in him. They gave him the absolute truth, always. And being lied to again, being looked down at, being dismissed and used.. and from all people, by Ty.. made Kit feel like he was spiralling down into a dark place that he thought he had left behind.

But this morning, Ty didn’t act like he was looking down at him. As his stood, tall and swift like a sharpened arrow, he looked like he was ready to burn Carl Lindquist alive.

In those precious few moments, Kit managed to forget how hurt he was. Seeing Ty not only defending him, but actually threatening Carl, made him feel like he wasn’t so inconsequential to him as he thought. It also made him feel like he was punched in the chest with no warning.

He still wasn’t used to this older, sharper version of Ty.. and in that moment, no one had the right to look as beautiful as he did, like he was cut out of pure silver, soft and unyielding at the same time.

Kit eyed him sideways and regretted it immediately. He wanted to stay angry, to keep his mouth shut until they reach the goddamn warlock. But Ty looked so.. sad. Why was he sad? What gave him the right to look so frustrated? And Kit had no doubt this was the case, for Ty’s hands were dancing restlessly since they left the institute, and Kit had to clench his fist hard until his fingernails dug into his flesh. He wasn’t supposed to comfort Ty, though there was nothing in this world he wanted more.

The silence was merciless. It was tangible, pulsating between them until Kit had to break it before it broke him.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He said with what he hoped wasn’t too soft of a voice.

Ty lifted his gaze towards him and fixed it at some unknown point behind him.

“I didn’t have to do what?”

“You didn’t have to say say all these things to Carl. I can manage him by myself..” his lips twitched upwards.

“I’m aware of that..” An echo of a smile hovered on Ty’s mouth, and Kit had to look away. “I didn’t do it because I had to.”

“So why did you do it?” Kit heard the desperation in his voice and cursed himself again, why couldn’t he keep it cool for at least five minutes?

Ty kept silent for a long moment before he answered, very slowly, like it pained him to say the words allowed.

“Because I couldn’t help it.”

Kit felt the trembling of his heart like it was laid in the palm of his hand.

“I don’t mind it when he picks on me. I know why he’s doing it, and it’s his business. But, the way he talks to you.. like you’re- as if he’s even-“

Kit was baffled. He never heard Ty struggle with words like this, though he knew they didn’t came as easily to him as to others. They were an instrument to him, a necessity.

“I just.. don’t like it.”

Kit didn’t know how to answer, and Ty didn’t look like he was waiting for a response.

They turned left on Northampton Rd, their destination was only a few minutes away. The stone pavement was littered with glass shards, shining between the dirty tiles like scattered glitter. The remains of a life, Kit thought.

A blue street sign told them that they weren’t so far from a children’s hospital, and the image of the all the potential captives of the demons flashed before Kit’s eyes. He was so immersed in his feelings, in his own pity, insignificant pain, that he managed to forget the real reason they were here.

Kit signalled Ty to follow his lead, as they turned into a narrow street. Right next to a brightly coloured flower shop, stood an old green wooden door with the address Hypatia gave him. He took out his stele, and quickly traced an open rune. The door creaked open, and they slid inside quietly, hidden behind their glamour.

Kit and Ty climbed two floors before they found the right apartment, a plain looking door with a metal plaque with the letter M hanged in the centre of it. Kit gave Ty a quick glance, debating whether he should say something before he knocked, but thought better of it. He lifted his hand towards the door when Ty asked in a low voice, “Aren’t you going to tell me that I should let you do the talking?”

He gave Kit a hesitant, shy smile, and all the anger and anxiety he felt flew out of him in an instant.

“Do I have to?” He replied with a grin, and knocked on the door.

Apparently, Hypatia wasn’t exaggerating when she called the warlock Marvin “unpleasant”.

The second he opened the door and saw Kit and Ty, he tried to slam it right in their faces. Kit was quick, though, and shoved his foot in the small space between the door and it’s frame.

“Ouch! That’s how you great everybody, Marvin?”

“It’s reserved to you Shadowhunters. What do you want?” Marvin was a rather short, tired looking man. He wore a blood red fluffy robe and had a slight greenish tint to skin that matched his moss coloured eyes, and a deep hoarse voice. Overall, he didn’t look like any warlock Kit had ever seen, he looked like an ordinary man that had a couple of drinks too much last night.

“My name is Christopher Herondale and this is Tiberius Blackthorn. We came to ask you a few questions about a.. very delicate matter.” Kit lifted his eyebrows to emphasise the need of a private conversation.

The warlock gave him a long, measuring look. “Herondale, you say? Are you familiar with Magnus Bane?”

“Yeah!” Kit’s mood lifted. If this warlock was a friend of Magnus, maybe he’ll be more inclined to help them. “He’s family friend. Good friend. Of both of us.” He gestured at Ty.

After another moment of hesitation, the warlock opened the door and moved aside to let them in.

Kit looked around him in amazement. The apartment was enormous, much bigger than what he would have thought just by looking at the building. The light inside was warm and dimmed, as if the sun was long gone from the sky and only the excessive amount of candles lit the room. But that wasn’t what was extraordinary about the place. Every single wall across the entire apartment was covered with books. Kit had never seen such a thing in his entire life, and he lived with Tessa Grey. He suppressed the urge to take a picture, and turned to Ty.

“Are you seeing this, Ty?”

Ty’s face mirrored his own amazement, but he didn’t seem to see the space around him. Kit followed his gaze, to know what he was looking at, and felt his mouth open in surprise.

In front of them stood Marvin, with his fluffy robe and solemn expression, but where his hands should have been, were long, slimy green tentacles. They were covered with pink suckers down to their tips, that curled inward and nearly reached his knees.

Kit closed his mouth and gave Ty a worried look, the last thing they needed was to make the warlock feel uncomfortable or angry. Sure, Kit was surprised by the addition, but he was used to warlocks. He remembered once meeting a warlock who’s entire body was covered with sparkly purple gills, but Ty wasn’t as used to downworlders as he was.

He better start talking, before things got too awkward. “So, umm-“

“Your tentacles..” Ty whispered before he could finish his words. Oh no, Kit thought, and gave Ty a meaningful look that he didn’t seem to notice.

“Yes?” Marvin’s voice was icy cold and his tentacles opened menacingly, like a strand of hair, escaping its roller.

“They’re incredible!” Ty called. “How long do they reach? Their texture indicates that they’re regularly moistened, but is it so or are they naturally slick? I wrote a paper once about the variety of oceanic marks in warlocks, but this is by far the most interesting I’ve ever encountered.”

Kit and Marvin both stared at Ty with unabashed amazement for a few seconds before Marvin stuttered a response.

“Thank you, I.. think. I just use moisturiser. I have a fella in the market that makes me a jasmine scented cream. I can give you his number, if.. you want.”

Kit couldn’t believe what was happening. He was terrified that Ty would be repulsed by the warlock’s.. unusual appearance, and now they were exchanging body care notes and discussing the advantages of tentacles in a fight. He supposed he shouldn’t have been so surprised, and reminded himself of the days he spent in the shadow market with Ty. Everybody loved him, even before the cold peace was eradicated.

An overwhelming urge to put his arms around Ty punched his way into Kit’s heart, to hold him close, to feel the steady beat of his heart against his. To lose himself in his smell of ink, rain and clean cotton. But he couldn’t do that, even if he wasn’t in danger of bursting like a lightning storm. Ty didn’t want him that way. No matter how hopeful Kit felt by his warm behaviour in the last few days, Ty had proved him yesterday that there was little left between them. It wasn’t friendship, and definitely nothing more than that.

Eventually, Kit cleared his throat and reminded the two that they came here for an important reason, not a courtesy call.

As they spoke of the demon appearances and their suspicions about the missing children, Marvin’s eyes darkened and his lips compressed themselves into a thin line.

“I admit that this is worst than what I imagined. I’ve heard things.. not many downworld residents will speak of it, but I have my way of learning things. I heard that the moloch demons are searching to strengthen their master, so he will be able to take hold of this world. If what you’re saying is correct, the ritual of sacrifice might be exactly the way they’re planning to do it.”

“So when we found them in that warehouse..” Ty started in a shaken voice.

“They were looking for a place to preform the ritual, and hide the kids.” Kit completed, his fingers pressing hard over the knuckles, threatening to pop the bones out of their place.

“In the map we made, where we traced the demons appearances with the locations of kidnap, the warehouse was near one of the places where three kids were taken. That means they’re staying close to where they were seen last.”

Ty spoke slowly, as if he was seeing and interpreting the map right before his eyes. “Now all we have to do is look in that area for a potential place of hiding for them.”

“Yes,” Kit whispered. “A place that has an underground entrance.”

Ty sat on the floor to the foot of his bed, his hands planted deep in the soft maze of Irene’s fur. She was sprawled on his lap, her eyes following Livvy as she floated around the room.

“So you found the place? You know where they are?”

Her voice quivered with excitement and worry. Ty knew that she, like him, couldn’t help but remember the day their brother Tavvy was taken by Malcolm Fade. He tried to cast away the memories, Tavvy’s small body slack on the stone table, Malcolm’s army of the dead.

He shook his head and turned to his sister.

“We have a couple of potential locations that fits the profile we’re looking for. We can’t go during the night, because the demons can follow us outside. It’s safer to do this during the day.”

She nodded, her expression clouded, as if her mere existence was hiding away a secret.

“Is.. Kit coming with you?” She asked with that voice of hers she used whenever she was about to touch a subject Ty was less than inclined to discuss.

“I don’t know.. I hope he will. I think he’s still angry with me. I planned to apologise but I was so angry when we left the institute, because of Carl and because I couldn’t stop him before he said more hurtful things to Kit.. I just couldn’t find the right words. And when we left Marvin’s apartment we got so caught up in the investigation.”

“But when you came back? He’s still here, right?”

Ty pressed his cheek to Irene’s back and listened to her peculiar heartbeat. It grounded his mind to a single thought, to a single purpose.

“He’s here. As soon as Carl entered the room he left, but I heard him in the training room earlier.”

Livvy floated closer to him, something she didn’t usually do when Irene was so close, because it made her jumpy.

“Ty, you should go talk to him. You should apologise. Tomorrow you’re going to face the angel knows how many demons. You should do this.. before.”

Ty considered her words. In the next day they were headed towards danger, something that never frightened Ty. He was a Shadowhunter - danger was their closest companion, even in the Scholomance. But if Kit will come with them still thinking Ty didn’t trust him, it could seriously compromise them as a team, and therefore put Kit in danger.

He picked up his phone and checked for the time. It was late, and Kit was probably already asleep.. but it wouldn’t be the first time Ty had woke him up.

He gently lifted Irene off him, and placed her on the makeshift bed he had made for her when she arrived a few days ago.

With a witchlight in his hand, Ty walked the narrow corridor that led to Kit’s room.

Ty hesitated a second before he opened the door, but the thought of seeing Kit again filled his body with an excitement that wiped away the fear of his reaction. He pulled the handle down, and thanked for the soundless rune he put on the soles of his boots.

In the far corner of the dark room, lay Kit. Half covered with a heavy white blanket, his bare back facing Ty.

Ty felt the breath abandon his body completely. He never saw Kit like this, not now and not when they were younger.

He remembered the day he got injured, the day they met again, and Jem’s steady hands searching his body for hidden injuries. He remembered how completely shell shocked from desire he was by the mere sight of Kit’s feverish, exposed skin.

He fell to his knees in front of Kit’s bed without having any control over his body. The need to touch him was overwhelming, to trace the hard muscles of his back with the tips of his fingers, to study the curves and hollows of his bones all over the desert of his skin, to name each birthmark with his lips.

Ty shuddered violently and told himself, commanded himself not to do anything to scare Kit away.

“Kit,” his voice was an inaudible whisper. “Kit, wake up”.

Kit didn’t stir, not even a slight movement.

Ty lifted a trembling hand and shook Kit’s shoulder, “Kit, wake u-“

And with a flash of silvery light he barely had time to see, Ty was lifted off his knees and slammed hard onto the bed.

Kit’s fist held the front of Ty’s shirt, pinning him to the bed, and his other hand held a dagger to his neck. The Herondale dagger.

He was on top of Ty, his entire body pressing down on him, and Ty felt him, each part of him, with a frantic voice screaming in his head that he must remember this, every second of this moment, every part of the way Kit’s skin felt against his.

His eyes, midnight blue and darker than Ty had ever seen them, focused with a visible effort on his. He didn’t say a word, and Ty barely managed to notice how hard he was breathing, like he woke up from a nightmare but wasn’t sure if he was still asleep.

Ty couldn’t speak. Kit’s face was a blaze of golden white in the pale moonlight, he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The sweet scent of his breath on his made him feel dizzy, and for a second, he wasn’t sure he was actually there, or still on the foot of his own bed.

“Christoper,” He whispered, his voice hoarse and thick. “I-“

And his lips were on his, hard and hot like a burst of flames erupting from stone.

He kissed him with a violent desperation, like he was on the verge of death and could find air only in-between their lips, like every drop of water that ever existed was to be found when their tongues met, melting his body into the stormy sea of a lost world.

Every place Kit’s lips touched made Ty burn, and they touched him everywhere. His jaw, his neck, the deep hollow above his sternum. He was burning like he never touched before. Every kiss he ever had, every place his body was touched until now was nothing but shadows, outlines of a desire he never knew existed.

His fingers grazed Kit’s naked back, touching all the places he yearned to touch before, tasting the velvety skin in the nape of his neck and the soft curls of his hair felt like feathers in his hands.

Kit’s lips found his again, and Ty could feel the need in him, the hunger. He bit his lower lip and Ty let out a low, breathless moan.

And with another flash of light, Kit was gone.

Ty felt like something was ripped away from him, an essential part of his body. He nearly screamed in pain when he saw Kit hunched in the corner of the bed. His back was trembling like he was stranded naked in the coldest of nights.

His thoughts sharpened slightly by the absence of Kit’s touch, Ty sat slowly, not touching him.

“What- what’s wrong?”

He heard his own voice like it was a stranger’s. There was nothing familiar about it, nothing reassuring, nothing to hold on to.

Kit didn’t answer, and Ty feared that he was crying. But why? Why would he be crying?

Ty’s blood sang in his veins, the strength of his emotions nearly knocking him back on his back.

He wanted to wrap his arms around Kit, to kiss the softness under his eyes, to press his hands against his heart and tell him, he wanted to tell him that-

“Leave.”

Kit’s pleading voice was barely a whisper, and Ty wished he only had imagined it.

“Please, Ty.. please. Leave.”

180 notes · View notes

thefactsofthematter · 6 years ago

Note

Sprace and uhhhh theres a house Thats Clearly Haunted and they Have To Find Out

ok i really popped tf off with this prompt and i apologize in advance for how it ends???

1.7k; sprace; modern au; warning for a pretty detailed character death yikes

Something weird is going on.

Something really weird. So weird that Spot hopes to God he’s hallucinating, because there’s no way this can be real.

It has to be a trick of the lighting. There’s no way Race’s eyes are actually glowing red. And his skin feeling so damn hot— that has to be because of the cozy jacket he’s wearing.

“I think we should take turns investigating the last room alone,” says Race, interrupting Spot’s train of thought. The echo around his voice must be due to the odd layout of this creepy old house.

They’re ghost hunting, you see. Or rather, they’re trying to prove to Albert and Elmer that’s there’s definitely no demons in this house— Race had been pretty adamant that they could do it. They’ve been wandering around all evening with no sign of anything notable, though Race’s strange behavior might as well be paranormal.

��You first,” replies Spot, trying not to show how unsettled he’s feeling. It’s probably all just his mind playing tricks on him. “Let’s do five minutes each and see if we can find anything. I bet you won’t last the whole time.”

Race grins, clearly up for the challenge. There’s something in his smile that rubs Spot the wrong way, though he can’t put his finger on just what it is.

“You’re on,” says Race, before clapping Spot on the shoulder and taking off down the hall. “I can totally do it, but I bet you can’t!”

With Race locked in the spooky old bedroom for a few minutes, Spot now has more time to think the situation over.

He has absolutely no justifiable reason to believe Race is possessed by a demon. The notion of it is completely insane.

But red eyes, burning skin, and that evil-looking smile… they’re not evidence, per say, but they’re signs that Spot would be a fool to ignore. He just has to test the theory— if it’s wrong, he was just goofing around and it’s a funny joke. If he’s right… well, he’s not sure what he’ll do if he’s right.

Carefully, he pulls a tiny dish of salt from his fanny pack, where Elmer had packed him a demon-fighting toolkit. He’ll simply line the doorway with salt, and see if Race can escape. Simple as that. It’s probably stupid and pointless, but it also sort of feels like it might be worth a shot.

“Time’s up, Racer! Come out!”

Spot feels incredibly on edge as he waits for Race to come out. He can hear the footsteps coming towards the door and each step is making him even more anxious than before.

Finally, the door creaks open and Race stops short in front of the line of salt.

He looks down at it, and then looks back up at Spot and just stares. Spot swears his heart might pound right out of his chest.

“Race…” says Spot, after a moment, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Come here. Your time’s up.”

Race looks down to the line of salt again. When his eyes flick back up to Spot, the red tint from before is back, and there’s a creepy kind of darkness to his expression.

“I can’t.”

Spot’s heart drops to his stomach and a chill goes straight down his spine. Holy shit, he was right. He swallows thickly and tries to keep his composure.

“Why not?” he asks, watching Race’s expression carefully. “Just walk over here and stand with me. What’s stopping you?”

Race keeps his eyes on Spot, their red glow getting brighter by the second.

“I think you know,” he finally says. He gestures down to the salt with a look of disgust. “You did this on purpose. Do you think this is funny?”

Spot takes a step backwards and his back hits the wall behind him.

“You’re scaring me, Race,” he says, trying incredibly hard to keep his composure. “What the hell is going on?”

It’s silent for a long moment. Spot can hear his own pulse pounding in his ears— his blood pressure must be through the roof right now. His fight-flight-or-freeze reaction is fully activated, and his body has apparently chosen to freeze.

Race eventually sighs, shutting his eyes for a moment and clearly trying to calm down.

“Look, I didn’t want you to find out like this, okay? This… this isn’t fair to you. I never wanted you to see this part of me. We never should’ve come here.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks in a little circle, while taking a few deep breaths. He suddenly stops and whips back around to face Spot, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “How did you figure it out?”

Nothing makes sense right now and Spot is freaking out. Is Race implying that he’s not possessed, but is actually a demon himself? This is so fucked up on so many levels, what the fuck.

“The eyes,” says Spot, finding it increasingly more difficult to talk, the longer he stands here panicking. “They’re red, Racer. Glowing bright red. What does it mean? What are you?”

Race groans and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. He moves like he wants to kick the salt out of the way, but seems to think better of it and continues to pace instead.

“What do you think, Spot!?” he snaps, finally losing his composure. His voice has gone disturbingly deep and it echoes around the room. “I’m exactly what the fuck you think I am! A fucking demon, alright? I’ve always fucking been like this and I didn’t want you to find out because it ruins everything! This stupid place, there’s so many spirits and shit, and it’s making everything worse!” He runs towards the doorway a punches the side of it with full force, which certainly would’ve broken his knuckles… if he were human. He stays there a long time, gasping for breath. When he continues, his voice is much quieter. “I don’t wanna hurt you, okay? I really, really don’t wanna hurt you. I love you.”

Spot doesn’t know what comes over him, but he finds himself nodding slowly and stepping a little closer to Race. There’s something about seeing him so upset that breaks Spot’s fucking heart, even when he should be terrified.

“It’s okay, baby,” he finally says, and the words feel foreign as they leave his mouth. He should be scared. Why isn’t he scared? “Calm down, alright? I believe you. I know you don’t wanna hurt me. I’ll… I’ll move the salt. I trust you, Race.”

Race’s eyes go wide at that, still glowing hauntingly, and he takes a little step back.

“You shouldn’t,” he replies. “You shouldn’t trust me, Spot, after what you just found out. You should leave. I love you so much, but you need to get out of here.”

Spot frowns and takes another step closer.

“I’m not leaving you here,” he says. “You just promised not to hurt me, and I trust you. If you’ve always been like this, it means you’re the same boy I know and love, right? I’m gonna move the salt out of the way, but I want you to calm down first, okay? It’s gonna be fine. Just breathe, Racer.”

Race can hardly hear Spot’s voice over the chorus of others echoing in his ears.

Kill him. Kill him. You know you want to. It’s the only way. If you really love him, you’ll take his soul right now. Remember when he said he wanted to be yours forever? You can make that happen for him. You have to kill him. You have to. He’ll never hurt again— mortals are so fragile, you can take that away from him. He’ll live forever with you. He’ll never hurt again.

Why the hell did they come here? There’s so many goddamn spirits around and they all seem to want to have a bit of fun with Race tonight. Why on earth did he agree to go ghost hunting? He thought he’d be stronger than this, but it’s becoming clear that he’s not.

If Spot moves the barrier from between them, Race won’t be able to control himself. He knows that for certain. As soon as that salt is moved, his instincts will take over and he’ll do something terrible. The voices in his head are screaming now, and there’s nothing he can do to stop himself as Spot steps forward and kicks the salt out of the way.

Spot screams as Race charges towards him and shoves him up against the wall with force that seems inhuman, the moment the salt line is broken.

Race’s hold on his throat is tight and Spot tries to struggle, but try as he might, he just can’t move. There’s a wicked grin on Race’s face, like Spot has never seen before.

“You said… you wouldn’t… hurt me,” Spot gasps, his breath growing shallower by the second. “Race… I love you.”

Race laughs wickedly and narrows the space between their faces to merely a few inches.

“I said I didn’t want to,” he corrects. “But I have to, Spotty. It’s the only way. You gotta understand— humans are so fragile, darling. So easily hurt. And I love you so much, I don’t want you to hurt anymore. I’m helping you, baby.”

His grip on Spot’s neck tightens, and Spot is seeing stars around Race’s head.

You’re killing me, he thinks, but he doesn’t have the air to say it.

“Hurts, Racer…”

Race sighs softly and uses his free hand to run his thumb over Spot’s lips, shushing him.

“Only for a moment, baby. Then you’ll be free. You’ll be mine forever, just like you promised.”

Insane. Race is totally insane. And all Spot can do is stare up at him with numb, wide-eyed horror until the world goes black around him.

Tag list (message to be added):@landlessbud @eponinemylove @i-got-personality @alovelymoonbeam @penzyroamin @graceful-popcorn @bencookisagod @auspicioustarantula @neverplannedonsomeonelikeyou @orollyitsracetrackhiggins @backgroundnewsies @magimerlyn @myheartissetinmotion @papesdontsellthemselves @supremebesson @justasadcryptid @marvels-ninja @aw-jus-let-em-try @big-potato-asshole @stop-the-presses @starrysence @wilde-guess @never-fear-brooklyns-here @r-a-c-e-t-r-a-c-k @fandom-fangirl07 @theresagoodchanceicouldfly @dying-poet @asphodelnerd

#hhhhhh im so sorry #also this took so damn long bc i got busy but im kinda happy with the result so??? here yall go #now to try and tag this shit #tw death #tw murder #tw demons #idk what else to tag #my writing #sprace #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #newsies fanfic

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tinsley-goldsworth · 5 years ago

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with great power comes great responsibility (chapter 1)

summary: in a world where normal humans coexist with people with supernatural powers, ryan meets a girl who knows something about the dark future that lies ahead. after all, with great power comes great responsibility

read on ao3!

For somebody who believed in the supernatural, Ryan Bergara had a hard time believing in reality. As crazy as it sounded, it was true that people had gotten superpowers and that society was able to function normally. While this might sound surprising, there really was not much to adapting to this change as most of the superpowers weren’t powerful enough to make people superheroes who could save the world. Sure, healers were considered an important asset on the battlefield but other than that, superpowers didn’t have much of an impact.

Superpowers had been around since the late 20th century and to be completely honest, nobody knew where they came from, even if scientists claim to have figured it out. Only 15% of the human population had some sort of superpower and each person’s ability varied in terms of power. Some people were more powerful than others and sometimes that would get to their head so the government worked with people with powerful superpowers to create new rules and regulations to control these power-hungry people. The government invested a lot of money into enforcing rules and there was a dramatic decline in dramatic super villains who didn’t do much other than scare a couple of people.

Ryan was seven years old when he placed a name on his power. Ever since he was young, he had seen a faint light around everybody’s bodies but didn’t question it, assuming that everybody else could see these ring-like lights. But then, he learned about superpowers in class and he learned that the ring-like circles were called emotional auras that could only be seen by people with special powers and that those people were called empaths. Ryan did some research and found out that different colors corroborated with different emotions, and he excitedly told his parents about his superpower.

His parents were generally nice people and when they found out, they couldn’t help but feel a little worried. They didn’t know if this would put Ryan at a disadvantage and even if it did, they couldn’t take it away from his as it was innate. They did some research and eventually were able to accept Ryan and they took Ryan to a superpower specialist who helped Ryan enhance and control his powers.

By the time he was ten years old, Ryan could read the emotions of people easily and the colors of auras were more distinctive than before. When he was younger, auras were sort of hazy, grey-colored rings of light but as his superpower developed, he could identify the color from a mile away. His power was useful when trying to identify how a friend felt, and he usually helped out people who had rather blue auras feel better.

Ryan’s parents’ worries about discrimination became relevant when Ryan began applying for jobs as he grew older. Companies didn’t really want people with superpowers as there was still a lot of stigma around hiring people with supernatural abilities but he was able to become an intern at Buzzfeed. The best part of being at Buzzfeed was obviously the ability to create videos but another benefit was that it paid its employees with superpowers the same wage as their regular human employees.

Now that people knew supernatural powers existed, they began to accept conspiracy theories easily and Ryan also got caught up in the conspiracy storm. He had always been fascinated with unsolved crime cases as well as the unexplored supernatural world and decided to start a show at Buzzfeed called Buzzfeed Unsolved. He discussed unsolved cold cases and also visited haunted locations in hopes of finding evidence of the paranormal. His companion in these adventures was Shane Madej, a normal human who had a strong belief that “just because superpowers exist, it doesn’t mean that ghosts and demons do too”.

Ryan was determined to prove that ghosts were just as real as telepaths and the result was a five season-long series on the supernatural. It was wildly successful and as not many people with superpowers were famous for their work, many younger kids with superpowers looked up to Ryan. It was nice to know that he had an impact on people’s lives and Ryan decided to keep creating content for his enjoyment and for others’.

Today, Ryan walked into the office and read people’s auras per usual. Many interns had their usual heather purple auras, signaling that they were extremely stressed. Some people at the office had graphite grey auras that showed they were definitely not getting enough sleep and did not have enough energy to function. There were a select few people who were harder to read, like Jen Ruggirello, whose aura always seemed oddly hazy, but for the most part, people had parmesan yellow auras, meaning they were relatively content.

When Ryan and Shane had been participating in Kelsey’s Sims series, Kelsey brought up the analogy of auras being similar to the color of the Sims’ moods. There were some differences in correlation between color and emotions but for the most part, the colors in the Sims that matched with certain emotions matched with the colors of auras for those emotions. But even as accurate as the colors generally were, they didn’t express the full scale of human emotion. For instance, when somebody was feeling in love, the aura’s shade of pink would vary, unlike the standard fuchsia pink in the Sims. Sometimes the pink would be more magenta, which was more of a cautious feeling of love and coral pink was a very fleeting, lustful love that, if turned to a ballet slipper pink, could turn into more emotionally-connective love.

As Ryan took a seat down at his desk, he noted that Sara and Shane were standing across from each other as they talked, their auras radiating an intense ballet slipper pink and he caught Shane’s eye, making a mock face of disgust. Shane rolled his eyes and continued talking to Sara, who was showing him her latest drawings. Sara had the unique ability to communicate with animals and her interactions with various types of critters fueled her creativity. She drew elegant mythical creatures that seemed to pop right off the page with vibrant colors. Being an animal communicator was almost as rare as being an empath and it was even rarer for any people with superpowers to possess the amount of talent Sara had.

Ryan turned back towards his computer and right before he put his headphones on, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He swiveled around in his chair to face Steven, who had his usual, happy mustard yellow aura, and Steven grinned as he read Ryan’s thoughts. Steven was probably one of the nosiest and noisiest telepaths Ryan has ever encountered because even though Steven talked a lot, he was also chatty inside Ryan’s head. Every child had learned how to block their thoughts from a telepath from a young age but Ryan put a thin filter on his thoughts and allowed Steven to see the majority of them because he trusted Steven. But while Steven could be a sweet guy, he could also be an annoyance.

“Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. You know better than to be envious of people in love. I know you’re single but the sooner you put yourself out there, the less sad you’ll be around couples,” Steven reproached in a playful manner and Ryan shot him an annoyed glance. So what if he was a little bitter that everybody around him seemed to be in love while he was as single as he could be? Ryan knew that he should probably at least make an attempt to start going on dates but because work had been so draining lately, he couldn’t find the effort to.

“Shut up, Steven. Shouldn’t you be searching for a restaurant with golden truffles or something?” Ryan teased half-heartedly as he turned back towards his computer, clicking on a file to open it up. As ready as Ryan was for Steven to drop the topic, Steven wasn’t ready to let the conversation end.

“Seriously Ryan, you need to stop moping around and find somebody. I’m sure lots of people would want to date an empath,” Steven scooted over to next to Ryan, still sitting in his office chair. Ryan was tempted to push Steven off his chair to wipe the smug smile off his face but resisted the urge to do so. All he wanted was for Adam to teleport here and take Steven away to another location.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind,” Ryan replied dryly and Steven took this as a victory, pumping his fists triumphantly before scooting back to his desk. Steven wasn’t a hundred percent correct about people wanting to date an empath; there was a good chunk of people who still found people with superpowers strange and refused to date them. This was yet another obstacle people with superpowers had to face and Ryan pushed any deep thoughts about the topic back into the recesses of his mind.

Ryan put his headphones on and began the tedious task of listening to all the audio files from the haunted location he and Shane had visited. He found some clips that sounded pretty compelling and saved them to show to Shane later. Later that day, Ryan filmed a post-mortem with Shane and Shane’s aura was a mustard yellow, which helped raise Ryan’s energy levels a little more. Ryan found that in addition to being able to read the emotions of others, he could also be influenced by others’.

After filming the post-mortem, Ryan called it a day and decided to walk to Starbucks to get a quick drink with caffeine so he could manage to stay up a little late to finish up some final touches on an episode. He wasn’t paying much attention to where he was walking as he was too busy scrolling through Twitter to look where he was walking and he bumped into somebody. Instantly, he lowered his phone and turned to the person, apologizing. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was walking.”

The girl he bumped into turned towards him and Ryan almost lost his grip on his phone. She had the brightest aura Ryan had ever seen and it was probably brighter than the light of the sun and stars combined. It was a strange silver color that Ryan had never seen but at least it wasn’t an angry scarlet red. Her eyes were golden, meaning that she was a seer and could tell the future. Seers were rare and Ryan had never met a seer with such an intense aura. Her golden eyes flashed with recognition as she replied, “No worries. Have I seen you before?”

“Maybe? My name is Ryan Bergara and I’m the host of a show called Buzzfeed Unsolved. Maybe you saw me on the internet somewhere,” Ryan reasoned, still fascinated by her silver aura. He wanted to reach his fingers out and try to touch it as it seemed so metallic that looked physically smooth but suppressed the urge. The girl shook her head and her tangled curls bounced delicately.

“Doesn’t sound familiar. I’m Marielle by the way,” Marielle looked like she was about to say something more but her phone rang with a notification of a new text. She glanced down at the screen of her phone and quickly began typing a message. Before she left, Marielle met Ryan’s eyes one last and said, “I have to go. I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon?” Ryan’s question was left hanging as Marielle disappeared into the endless stream of people walking down the street. If Marielle was telling the truth, then there really was no need to answer Ryan’s question right now.

While society seemed like a utopia because of its ability to function normally with people with superpowers, it still had its faults. Many people were anti-superpower and firmly believed that people with superpowers had no right to be wandering around in the world and should be locked up. Los Angeles was a more progressive area and generally, people accepted those with superpowers, which is why Ryan was surprised when people showed up at the front doors of Buzzfeed, protesting.

Ryan had been minding his own business at work as he finished up working on an episode and admittedly, he had been letting his mind wander as he mindlessly checked for errors in editing. He couldn’t forget about Marielle, whose mysterious remark had been on repeat in his brain, and wanted to know more about Marielle. Ryan felt naturally attracted to Marielle because of her metallic aura but he also thought she was one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen. He hoped that she would be true to her word and they would somehow manage to meet again but for now, he had no way of contacting her so he could only wait.

Just as Ryan took off his headphones and prepared the file for sending, he heard a distant commotion outside and stood up, walking over towards the source of the sound. As he got closer, he could hear the chants of angry people and see a distant dark glow of red. Near the glass doors at the front of the office, there was a crowd of anti-superpower protestors yelling and holding picket signs walking down the street. A bunch of Buzzfeed employees were standing in the lobby, watching the protestors march down the street and Ryan walked next to Steven, Shane, Sara, and Andrew, who were watching with concern flashing in their eyes.

Their usual comforting auras now were a plum shade of worry as the protestors’ chants of “Freaks are making our economy stink!” rose louder and louder. The front doors of the office were locked as everybody at the office knew that protestors wouldn’t hesitate to try to attack Buzzfeed since the company paid people with superpowers equally. A couple of protestors left the horde to bang on the doors and picket signs were thrown at the glass doors. Ryan winced at the clunking noises as the signs hit the doors and Steven’s usual grin was now a painful grimace.

The protestors eventually stopped bothering the front doors and joined the rest of the mob as they continued down the street, causing a ruckus and worsening traffic. Shane had an arm wrapped comforting around Sara’s shoulders as Sara leaned into him, biting her bottom lip as her plum aura deepened to a sangria purple. She was scrolling through her phone and announced, “These protests are happening everywhere today. It’s like they all came together to protest on this one day to get their message across.”

“I still don’t understand why anti-superpower people don’t accept people with superpowers. I mean, people with superpowers lose their powers,” Shane frowned as he spoke and he left the last part of the statement unsaid. Nobody had figured out how to remove powers without killing the person and if anti-power protestors wanted to get rid of all people with superpowers, they might as well come together to commit mass genocide right under the government’s nose. It’s not like the government would act quickly enough to stop them.

“Some people think that having equality will result in them losing power but in reality, equality just means equal rights for everybody and they don’t have to lose power in order to have equality,” Jen walked up next to Ryan and Steven nodded in agreement. Many people didn’t like talking about politics but because politics now controlled their lives and rights, it was kind of necessary for them to discuss it.

Steven looked like he wanted to share more but one of the office managers walked into the lobby, telling everybody to get back to work and ignore the commotion. The small crowd of employees dispersed as everybody scrambled to get back to their respective workspaces. Ryan wasn’t a seer but he had a feeling that these protests were going to lead to something bigger in the future; he just didn’t know what this all could mean.

The protests only worsened and while the first few protests were organized throughout the nation, the hate spread and protests became a worldwide trend. Hundreds of people throughout the entire world came together to scream angrily about how people with superpowers shouldn’t be considered human. The protestors in Los Angeles constantly crowded around the Buzzfeed office to the point where Ryan had to enter the building through the back doors since the glass doors leading to the lobby were bolted and covered with planks of wood after a few protestors threw picket signs that smashed through the doors.

After a week of dealing with the protests, Ryan really needed a break from all the stress and as he walked back into his apartment, the last person he expected to see was Marielle. His first instinct was to dumbly think, “Wow her aura is still so bright”. His second instinct was to ask how she found her way in and how she knew where he lived but Marielle quickly closed the door behind him. Before he could ask the questions, Marielle stammered rapidly, “Your, um, roommates let me in. I told them I was here to help you with a video thing. I, uh, found your address by asking my friend. She knows you.”

“Oh, okay, yeah,” Ryan replied as if she had definitively answered all his questions. He wanted to ask more questions but Marielle seemed like she really was rushing to tell him whatever she needed to say so he kept his mouth shut as she continued to talk.

“Listen, I don’t have much time to say this but I came to tell you that you shouldn’t go to work tomorrow. Tell all your friends not to go too. I can’t tell you more and I don’t have that much time. It’s just… dangerous,” Marielle nervously curled one of her curls around her index finger as she spoke, clearly anxious about something, or maybe someone. She seemed like she was in a rush and needed to get out of Ryan’s apartment as soon as possible.

“Wait, why? Wait, sorry, right, you can’t tell me. Um, why this is going to sound weird but why should I trust you?” Ryan had trouble sounding coherent as he wasn’t used to sort-of strangers showing up at his place and telling him not to go to work the next day. He didn’t know Marielle that well but his instincts were telling him to believe what she was saying.

“I can tell the future. What else is there to make me more credible?” Marielle grinned as she scribbled something down on a random slip of paper lying on the kitchen counter with a pen from her pocket. She handed Ryan the slip of paper and he saw that she had written her number along with her name and a small smiley face. “Here’s my number. You’re gonna need it in the future. You’ll know when you need to. I have to go.”

Before Ryan could ask any more questions, Marielle brushed past him and left, closing the door behind her with a dull thud. Ryan was still in shock as he glanced down at the slip of paper in his hands, wondering what on Earth had just happened. He remembered that Marielle said they were going to meet again but he hadn’t imagined it to be like this. Ryan remembered the honesty in her golden eyes as she warned him of the dangers of going to work and glanced down at her handwriting on the slip of paper. Since she had predicted them meeting again a second time, Ryan should probably trust her words. So, he saved her contact in his phone and waited patiently for the time that he would need to talk to her again.

chapter 2 is here!

#fics #bfu #buzzfeed unsolved #ryan bergara #shane madej #superpower au #Marielle scott #maryan #sara rubin #shara #empath #jen ruggirello #bfwi #buzzfeed worth it #steven lim #adam bianchi #fanfiction

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pamphletstoinspire · 6 years ago

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WHY DID JESUS WRITE WITH HIS FINGER IN THE DUST?

Gospel of April 7, 2019 - John 8: 1 - 11

Today’s beautiful gospel of the woman taken in adultery contains that curious detail of Jesus stooping to write in the dust with his finger.

At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. 3 The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group 4 and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery.5 In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women.Now what do you say?”6 They were using this question as a trap,in order to have a basis for accusing him.

But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. 7 When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8 Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

9 At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. 10 Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

11 “No one, sir,” she said.

“Then neither do I condemn you,”Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

Apart from the fact that this detail shows Jesus could read and write what does it really mean?

Why did Jesus write in the dust of the earth?

There are three traditional interpretations. First, maybe Jesus was just doodling. He was stalling for time. He was giving the Pharisees the brush off. But Jesus doesn’t waste time and doesn’t ignore people so that’s out.

A second interpretation was favored by St Jerome and by lots of commentator since. This version says Jesus was writing the names and sins of the accusers in the dust. That would fit the story sort of, but why writing in the dust. Yes, well maybe but why write in the dust? Why not tell a parable about the accusers’ sins or speak out their names and give, let’s say, the number of the commandment they had broken? It’s a plausible theory, but it still seems like we’re stretching for a solution.

I once came up with a third option I’d never heard from anyone else, that Jesus is performing a significant, prophetic action. Elsewhere he refers to himself as “the finger of God.” (Luke 11:19-20) so maybe this is a prophetic action. He is, with his finger, designing in the dust of the earth the way God created Adam from the dust of the earth. Therefore he is revealing himself as the creator. Creative maybe, but far fetched, and it doesn’t really fit the context.

No, the fourth answer is correct, and this is one which dates back to St Augustine.

But it’s a riddle, and to understand we have to go back to the context. In chapter seven of John’s gospel, (which is immediately before the passage of the woman taken in adultery) Jesus’ conflict with the Scribes and Pharisees has reached a climax point. They are plotting to kill him and he knows it and actually calls them on it.

Here’s the passage:

Not until halfway through the festival did Jesus go up to the temple courts and begin to teach. 15 The Jews there were amazed and asked, “How did this man get such learning without having been taught?”

16 Jesus answered, “My teaching is not my own. It comes from the one who sent me. 17 Anyone who chooses to do the will of God will find out whether my teaching comes from God or whether I speak on my own. 18 Whoever speaks on their own does so to gain personal glory, but he who seeks the glory of the one who sent him is a man of truth; there is nothing false about him. 19 Has not Moses given you the law? Yet not one of you keeps the law. Why are you trying to kill me?”

20 “You are demon-possessed,” the crowd answered. “Who is trying to kill you?”

21 Jesus said to them, “I did one miracle, and you are all amazed. 22 Yet, because Moses gave you circumcision (though actually it did not come from Moses, but from the patriarchs), you circumcise a boy on the Sabbath. 23 Now if a boy can be circumcised on the Sabbath so that the law of Moses may not be broken, why are you angry with me for healing a man’s whole body on the Sabbath? 24 Stop judging by mere appearances, but instead judge correctly.”

The argument goes back and forth, and the people are wondering who he really is:

At this they tried to seize him, but no one laid a hand on him, because his hour had not yet come. 31 Still, many in the crowd believed in him. They said, “When the Messiah comes, will he perform more signs than this man?”

Now we’re getting somewhere. Jesus does “signs”. John is big on this. The “signs” Jesus does are always secret significant acts that point to his true identity. So at the beginning of his gospel ohn says the miracle of the wedding at Cana in Galilee was the “first of the signs that he did.” In that “sign” Jesus performed the duties and took on the role of the bridegroom thus showing that he was the prophesied bridegroom of God’s people Israel.

So what is the next sign Jesus is going to perform?

In chapter seven he says,

“Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. 38 Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.”[c] 39 By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. Up to that time the Spirit had not been given, since Jesus had not yet been glorified.

40 On hearing his words, some of the people said, “Surely this man is the Prophet.”

41 Others said, “He is the Messiah.”

We need to ask, therefore, who is the “Spring of Living Water”?

The answer is in the prophet Jeremiah.

In chapter seventeen Jeremiah is inveighing against the corrupt and unbelieving religious leaders of Israel. Go here to read the whole chapter. He is calling them out for following false gods and turning away from the Lord. The cornerstone quote is verse 13:

Lord, you are the hope of Israel; all who forsake you will be put to shame. Those who turn away from you will be written in the dust because they have forsaken the Lord, the spring of living water.

Ha! There’s the answer to the riddle! Jesus calls himself the Spring of Living water. “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink!” he says in the verses just before chapter eight. (and remember, the chapter and verse divisions in the Bible are a much later addition to aid easy reference. They’re not in the original)

What happens to those who forsake the Lord? According to the prophet Jeremiah–and remember the Jews at this time knew their Old Testament forward and backward–those who forsake the Lord who is the Spring of Living Water–will have their names written in the dust.

Dust you are and to dust your will return.

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

By this prophetic sign Jesus is showing who he really is: The Lord who is the Spring of Living Water…he is also showing his accusers–who have planned to kill him–exactly who they are. They are the corrupt, immoral liars and murderers who the prophet Jeremiah condemned.

I believe Jesus just wrote their names in the dust and they, knowing the prophecy, understood that he was holding up a mirror to their apostasy and corruption. On the second occasion he may also have recorded the details of their own liaisons with the woman. Notice that the adulterous man was not brought for judgement. Why? Because it was one of them? Probably.

In this way Jesus recapitulates not only the prophet Jeremiah, but also the prophet Daniel in his encounter with the elders in the story of Susannah.

So the writing in the dust is one of Jesus’ signs to show who he really is. He is the Lord, the Spring of Living Water. If you reject him your name will be written in the dust of destiny.

Written by: Fr. Dwight Longenecker

#why did jesus write in the dust

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pricechecktranslations · 6 years ago

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ぜんまい仕掛けの子守唄　－Album－

Clockwork Lullaby album booklet content

Intro

From: TALOS

Date sent: Year 1001, August 10th,03:00

To: Kiril Clockworker

Subject: A final email

Hey, we haven't written in a while, huh?

Are you doing well?

The Third Period is all finished.

The world has been saved.

Though perhaps it wasn't in the form of the salvation you had hoped for.

You didn't complete all twelve music boxes in time, it seems…

But ah well, you needn't fret over that.

You've completed your goal for the time being, after all.

The spirits have already begun to migrate to the new world.

Though I hear there are still some remaining in the Third Period as they are yet.

If you have anyone you want to go see, I recommend you take care of that in good season.

The gate is open.

You should decide for yourself what you want to do after this.

You can stay in Angolmois as is, or you can deepen your friendship with your old cronies in the Third Period's ruins.

Or…I won't stop you from traveling to the Fourth Period.

I no longer have the right to.

You are free.

Though it's possible we will never meet again…Well, as there's no more need for you to keep making music boxes, you may do whatever you wish after this.

Be merry with your wife, hm?

Well then, farewell.

I wish you two the best wherever you go.

Songs

Clockwork Lullaby 01/Clockwork Lullaby -Key Of Word-

Origin

The first music box has commenced operation without a hitch.

After turning the windup key it plays a somewhat stiff tune

And at the same time fulfills the purpose of turning a gear of karma

To me the tune it plays is something I don't quite understand,

However I am sure that this is to be the start.

Alice's prophecy.

I must ascertain the truth of that.

For that is the mission for my atonement that was assigned to me.

Clockwork Lullaby 02/Girl of the Miniature Garden

Little sister

I don't have much information.

I needed to start from what was within the scope of my reach.

The song of a doll in the distant future.

Making the music box for that was simple.

My reasons are clear.

It was because to me,

She was none other than the being closest to me.

Irina…

Like me,

You too ended up becoming a castaway of time.

The blue spoon…

From this song I was able to faintly sense Adam.

That could perhaps become one of the clues I have to go on.

Clockwork Lullaby 03/Re_birthday

Black box

What has become essential to completion of the music box

Was contact with a god.

And I ended up succeeding in that much sooner than I expected.

TALOS…It seems that he had regarded me as dangerous because of the Leviantan Catastrophe.

But I was able to prepare several counter-measures to outwit that bat.

Because thanks to that catastrophe--

I was able to recover the memories of the "original".

In the end, TALOS gave up on trying to control me,

And instead offered his assistance.

With that I was able to incorporate a black box system into the music box.

And then…as for this song's contents.

I shall keep it a secret yet from TALOS.

Because, at any rate,

This boy hasn't even been born yet.

Clockwork Lullaby 04/ Heartbeat Clocktower

Gear

What sort of person is Adam?

I decided to investigate into the man who was said to be the son of Alice.

At the end of it, I knew that Adam was by Irina's side,

But at the same time that brought up a new question.

As far as I know, the two of them barely even knew each other.

So then why

Is Adam trying to help Irina?

…Right now,

I don't even have the parts to formulate a hypothesis yet.

I shall aim for the land of Angolmois.

Though it is a place where even knowing of its existence

Is beyond the paygrade of a normal person…

But if you're me, on the other hand.

Clockwork Lullaby 05 Chrono Story

Dragon

For now, I decided to continue on in my work

From a different angle.

And then,

I finally discovered the appearance of the person I love most.

A witch conversing with the god of the forest.

That face, her hair, her arms and legs…

It was none other than Elluka.

That was unmistakable.

--I quietly shed tears alone.

She had undoubtedly died.

And she would never be resurrected.

…It was something else.

I desperately repressed

An overflowing wrath.

Because if I was taken over by it,

I would never finish the twelve music boxes.

Clockwork Lullaby 06/Capriccio Farce

Unusual Event

How many years have passed

Since that catastrophe?

I'd stopped keeping track of time

Long, long ago.

Upon arriving in the land of Angolmois,

I was able to proceed with the compactification of

The BB system, which was a long-pending problem, at once.

At the same time I was able to supply myself components to make a new music box.

…However, this one was error-prone.

Due to the insertion of the Alice BB,

The sixth music box has started to play a different tone

Than I had initially expected.

--At present there are no particular flaws that stand out in it.

But there's no guarantee anywhere

That this song is the truth.

Clockwork Lullaby 07/Seven Crimes and Punishments

Deadly Sin

I have finally become able to follow history in its sequential order.

The beings called demons

And the disorders of the world that the people they contracted with caused.

The answer to Alice's prophecy is surely at the end of all that--

I've had it verified that my theory is correct.

It's become clear that it will destroy the world

As I thought.

In other words…

That means the main cause of all this

Is me.

Because after all

I am the one who caused it

To descend to the Third Period

Clockwork Lullaby 08/The Song I Heard Somewhere

Red cat

I have found the one who will destroy everything.

Next I must find the one who will save it.

There are several candidates…

But the most prominent would of course be Irina.

I know well the power that she hides.

Maybe I could be able to communicate somehow

With the "original" who saved Irina from the brink of death.

…Someone is knocking on the door of my house.

But, there shouldn't be anyone outside of me who can reach Angolmois.

--Who the hell is that?

While holding my gun in hand,

I slowly opened the door--

Clockwork Lullaby 09/Swear an Oath on that Bridge

Salvation

…Ah, god.

This may be the first time that I have been grateful to TALOS from the heart.

Now I have become able to listen to the ninth song with a tranquil heart.

And--

While this may be a crazy thought--

I have come to think this way.

That while "it" is undoubtedly the destroyer…

If she were able to regain her heart as a "person"

Might she at the same time

Have been able to be a savior?

When I asked the opinion of she standing by my side, she gave me a small smile,

And nodded.

Clockwork Lullaby 10/Banica Concerto!!

Gluttony

Finally I succeeded in getting one of the large gears to rotate.

But…frankly…

I'm a little stunned.

To think, that evil food eater would become a savior.

What sort of face will TALOS make when he learns that?

I'd like to see.

Naturally this is also thanks to the BB that my wife had been looking after from the "original"--

But it seems the BB's usage invites an unexpected state of affairs after all.

The rotation of the large gear

Ended up going opposite to what I'd assumed it would.

With this, it can't be called true salvation.

The new world will just end up becoming

A different take on the Third Period.

Clockwork Lullaby 11/The Karma of Evil Will Not End

Samsara

Adam had a realization.

On the truth that Irina was his mother.

Thanks to the "Re_Birthday" time wound back.

And so Irina will once more become Adam's…

And Eve's mother.

I can only hope.

That Irina will sever the karma of evil,

And bring about true salvation.

--Ah…

This isn't sufficient.

The gear's power is not enough.

With this the karma of evil will not end.

It'll just repeat the same things again.

And now, in that world…

There are no gods.

Everything will probably be reduced

To a farce.

Clockwork Lullaby 12/Song of the Third Period

Graduation

The singing voices of the Third Period have even reached the land of Angolmois.

This unfinished twelfth music box has begun to move and turn the large gear on its own.

Right now I'm reclining in a chair in an exhausted state.

…There had never been any need to make such things as this.

Even without the music boxes people are able to play the songs.

That is what this means.

These people singing…"VOCALOID", huh?

Ah well.

As a musical accompaniment,

It may serve as some aid to them.

For that purpose,

I shall set about making the final music box.

Final…

Is that truly so?

I took out my pocket watch

And looked upon its surface.

…!

I see…So that's it!!

Outro

From: Kiril Clockworker

Date sent: Year 1001 August 10th 15:00

To: TALOS

Subject: RE: A final email

TALOS.

You are a liar.

Certainly, on the face of a clock there are only 12 numbers written.

But in time…

The total number of songs is not 12.

Is that not so?

I've decided to head out from Angolmois.

With my wife, of course.

As for where I'm heading…I'll leave it to your imagination.

Perhaps I'll see you again once more there.

I don't have an exact goal in mind.

But…as long as songs exist there--

I will continue to make music boxes.

Well then, until we meet again.

#()booklets #()mothy #()evillious chronicles

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miraculousstuffwotifound · 6 years ago

Text

Redemption of a sea monster, a ChloNath mer!AU : chapter 1

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15218639/chapters/35297069

There, flapping and writhing on the deck was a mermaid.

Its long fish tail twitched in the net as it struggled, strong arms pressed up between the constraining rope and a very muscular bare chest. A flat bare chest.

Not a mermaid, Chole corrected herself, a merman.

Well well, what a catch. Males were even rarer than their female counterparts, which in themselves were as unlikely to be caught as flying bears, and twice as likely to rip your face off. Which she supposed was to be expected considering they literally consumed humans. Despite being viscous beasts, they were worth their weight in gold if caught. At least Chloe hoped so.

She drew her sword.

“Secure it.” she ordered, turning to her first mate, Kim.

The merman gave another ineffective flop, only succeeding in looping yet another portion of the net onto the blunt hooked spines running along the side of his deep blue tail. The sea monster paused its struggles to glare up at her, blue eyes narrowed with hate.

“Let me go!” the merman’s voice was deep and smooth, but the last note jarred something within Chloe’s soul. Around her, her crewmates seemed to slow, dopey smiles forming on faces.

“Let me GO!” the merman repeated.

A glamour, Chloe realised. His voice was somehow controlling her crew. She had only heard of their magic in legends, but it seemed now to be very real. No one seemed to react as the merman clumsily wriggled towards the edge of the ship. Strangely, her own mind was unclouded.

Chloe sprang forward, pressing her blade to his throat.

“Speak or move again and I will kill you.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and Chloe could see that he was doing a poor job of concealing his fear. He glared at her with large cerulean eyes framed with strands of deep red hair. She glared right back, and he quickly broke eye contact.

Around her, there were murmurs of surprise tinged with fear as her crewmates snapped out of their stupor. Kim sprang to her side, sword already drawn.

“Sabrina,” Chloe stated calmly, her eyes never leaving the merman, “go find something to gag him.” Her quartermaster rushed off to fulfil her captain’s order. “Max, Alix, and Ivan, see if you can find a tub to contain our new guest. We will be at port in Bordeaux next week,” she watched coldly as the merman gulped, “I am sure a live merman will catch a good price.”

***

They had eventually managed to wrangle the merman into her cabin, which, unfortunately, was the only room large enough in the ship where he was kept away from people who could be affected by his glamour.

He had put up less of a fight than she had expected, accepting the gag with minimal painful prompts, and a few jabs with her rapier had kept him from struggling as they had lifted him. He had bucked only once as they carried him below deck, craning his neck to catch one last glimpse of the ocean.

Chloe had been taken aback by the humanness of the action. It was little wonder so many hapless sailors fell victim to the mer’s imitation of human charm. Chloe would not make the same mistake.

Currently, the merman had had submerged himself in the bottom of the tub with gills extended, still trussed in the net and gagged, and leaving a sizable length of deep blue tail dangling over the edge of the cramped space. Around the tub were Kim and Sabrina, her first mate and quartermaster, and Max, the ship’s doctor and general know-it-all.

Together they were to decide the mer’s fate.

“I say it’s too dangerous. We don’t know enough about mer to pull this off. He has already got us all with a glamour already, and for all we know he could do other stuff as well.” Kim folded his arms, “There is a reason why the mer are known as the ‘angel face sea-demons’. It may look harmless, but if we kill it we know for sure it is harmless.” Kim reached up nervously to his neck to hold onto a blue-and-green lucky charm popular with superstitious sailors, and Chloe rolled her eyes. “And the sooner we do so, the better.”

Max gingerly felt the fish-like membrane of a tail fin, each lobe of which were as large as a man’s torso.

“Incredible.” he muttered, running his hand along the ridged edges. The mer flicked the fin out of his hands. Even underwater he looked faintly embarrassed.

“Max, what do you think?” Chloe asked, rousing the man from his visual assessment of the creature before him.

“Oh… ah… I don’t know as much about the mer as I would like, but I believe that their scales and skin can be sold for good prices in the Mediterranean medicine market.” He grasped the edge of the tub. “However their saliva reportedly has healing properties, and their venom can be distilled to create a very desirable and expensive recreational drug. They are therefore, worth far more alive than dead.” He pushed his glasses further up his nose, “We must assess the threats as we proceed, but at the moment, it certainly seems best to keep him alive.”

“I don’t really see how it could escape anyway, considering its tail is basically four and a half foot of uselessness on land.” Sabrina piped up, “And if the numbers add up, I am with Max on this one.”

“You’re all mad” Kim gestured wild, “The money is nice, but not if it kills someone, especially if it is sharing a room with the captain.”

“It does seem like a bit of a coward to be honest,” Chloe pronounced, a calculating edge to her voice. “And there is literally no way it can get far out of that tub with that tail, and if it did we would just kill it. We managed to get it here after all.” She casually picked some imaginary lint from the cuff of her honey-yellow Admiral’s long coat.

“They literally drink human blood. If it has lived this long, then it must have killed humans before,” Kim raised his eyebrows. “For that matter, we have a weeks voyage until Bordeaux, what are you going to feed it?”

“We will work something out.”

It would be difficult, but by god would it be worth the prize of the glory. Chole Bougious would surely be regarded as the greatest pirate in the Bay of Biscay, her name spoken in awe. Her face twisted into a self-satisfied grin.

She looked down at the merman, submerged and anxious in the bottom of the tub.

“Congratulations fishboy. Looks like you get to live another day.” His expression did not change, “But remember, there is a distinct difference between alive and unhurt, so try any shit, or just annoy me too much, and I will cut you.” She gave a jaunty smile, but let the coldness remain in her eyes, “Got it?”

***

Max fussed around the tub excitedly, and both Chloe and the merman regarded him with suppressed amusement, with the addition of flashes of nervousness and what appeared to be embarrassment from the merman. She had dismissed the rest of the advisors, but the doctor had stayed to take the necessary measurements for atomically accurate drawings.

The merman’s cerulean eyes never left the man as he poked and prodded, but he did not writhe and struggle as Chloe had expected. She was glad she wouldn’t have to get her rapier wet.

“We should probably keep an eye on his injuries.” the doctor muttered, pressing his fingers to the skin around a large graze of bubbling blue blood the merman had gained in his ill-fated writhe to freedom. The merman bucked, and Max removed his hand smartly.

“Sorry.” Max apologised, and the merman settled again swiftly.

“Don’t apologise to it,” Chloe scolded the doctor, “It’s a sea monster.” The merman rolled his eyes. “How long are you going to take anyway?”

“Nearly done.” Max stuck his hand in the water, searching for a wrist in the tangles of net. “His skin is warm! Fascinating! I always wondered whether mer were cold blooded like fish, or warm blooded like us.” Max found what he was looking for, “And he has a pulse! That disproves the theory that the mer are undead!”

A large bubble issued from the mer’s mouth, and a distorted sound like a huff of laughter.

“See, even the sea monster is laughing at your nerdiness Max.”

The merman’s tail fidgeted as Max took his pulse.

“Done,” Max flicked the water from his hand. “Though the pulse was higher than expected. Maybe I will try again if he ever calms down.” The doctor stepped away from the tub. The merman scowled. “You should undo his bonds though. And I do have some questions if I may.”

“Fine.” Chloe stomped over to the tub.

“You know the drill, mess up and try to glamour Max and you get stabbed.” She addressed the mer. He glowered at her, and she rolled her eyes dramatically before reaching down, dagger in hand to cut the net constraining him. He was indeed warm, and his smooth muscle twitched beneath her hand as she worked on the rope. He did not dare move until the final rope had been cut and Chloe stepped away from the tub.

With a flurry of movement he freed his arms from the remains of the net and tore off the gag, wedging himself upright in the corner of the tub. His pale-blue eyes glared at them. Chloe gave her best bitch-for-captain smile, and Max suppressed a shudder.

“You should let me go.” The merman’s voice was low “What your jacked-up muscle said was right; I do have extra powers. Everyone knows mer can call up storms if they so wish, so if you don’t let me go I… I will sink the ship!” There was a tremor in his voice. Chloe raised a perfect eyebrow.

“If that is true, why would you tell me? Wouldn’t you just do it and swim out of the wreckage?” The man sank lower in the water. “That’s what I thought,” she chided, “Now shut up before I hurt you.”

“You aren’t a very nice person.” he said softly.

“Well you eat people, so forgive me if I don’t take your opinion on what is ‘nice’ very seriously.” Chloe tapped her rapier against her boot in a distracted rhythm. The mer’s eyes followed the swaying tip. “Max, you said you have questions.”

“May I have some venom?” Max asked, “It is meant to have the most unusual properties.”

“Sure. Come over here and I will give you some venom.” the merman glowered.

Max was not deterred.

“Can I examine your gills?”

“Put your hand anywhere near my face…” the merman growled out.

“Now now,” Chloe chided, “You will be staying here a couple of days, so I expect you to stay civil.” She casually swiped her sword in little circles around her ankles. The mer’s gaze returned nervously to the flashing silver.

“Why can’t you glamour Chloe?”

“I don’t know.” the mer’s eyes slid away and he would not look at them. Max hummed sceptically. The merman jerked his tail, splashing water at the ship’s doctor.

“Max, stop pissing off the 7ft sea monster before he ruins my clothes.”

“Sorry captain.” Max took an extra step away from the tub. “One last question then; what do you eat?”

“Human blood.” the merman raised his eyebrows. “It is pretty consistent in the legends.”

“Can’t you drink the blood of any mammal?” Max asked.

“No. I need a human soul for it to be of any real sustenance value.”

“Souls,” Chloe huffed “that’s ripe coming from you ginge.”

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Lend me your pretty quartermaster and I will prove that superstition wrong,” his voice was low with an edge of hate, “I think I would get food-poisoning from the blackness of your soul.”

“Right then.” Chloe sheathed her rapier and took a hold of Max’s arm. “I hope you can make it until port and…” she gave a malicious smile, “…that your new owners will feed you.” And with that she strode from the room.

As she closed the door she could hear his frustrated growl over the sound of vigorous sloshing.

#nathaniel kurtzberg #chloe bourgeois #mer!Nathaniel #angst

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informalmajesty · 7 years ago

Text

The Prince, The Scavenger, and The Shame Model: Speculation on Abandonment, Humiliation, Violence, and Love in The Last Jedi

Clarifications I feel the need to make because I know this site:

-The Last Jedi is not a Vice News documentary. I will be suggesting allusions to real-life events that are controversial, to put it mildly. But again these are allusions, not political statements. George Lucas doesn’t get called a Nazi sympathizer because he redeemed Darth Vader, nor should he ever be referred to as such. Same goes for Rian Johnson if anything I am about to say here is in any way true.

-This is speculation through a very specific lens. There are many ways of looking at how TLJ may pan out. This is one of them and I am not saying it is the end all be all.

Alright. Now that that is out of the way….

“A lot of Star Wars was in response to Vietnam and a lot of what I remember talking about with JJ and Rian was this idea of terrorism and two sides being morally justified to behave however they wanted to to get what they thought was absolutely correct.” -Adam Driver, Larry King, 2017

“We talked about terrorism a lot. You have young and deeply committed people with one-sided education who think in absolutes. That is more dangerous than being evil. Kylo thinks what he is doing is entirely right, and that, in my mind, is the scariest part.”-Adam Driver, British GQ, 2017

The point that I want you to pay attention to is that The Last Jedi sends a message that things are not so clearly black and white. The boundary between good and evil becomes increasingly vague and the relationship between Rey and Kylo is symbolic of that. In fact, Kylo believes that his actions are correct. -Daisy Ridley, Yahoo Japan, 2017

Adam’s initial discussion of Kylo Ren on Larry King around terrorism and its influence on Kylo’s characterization got me thinking about similar themes that I had read about in Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov and The Demons. These themes stem from a theory in political science referred to as “The Shame Model,” which tackles the roots of terrorist motivations at the hands of western domination and humiliation of eastern nations.

“The Shame Model” —most notably theorized on by policy analyst Anatol Lievan in his essay “The Cold War is Finally Over: The True Significance of the Attacks”—is when extreme, violent reactions (terrorism) occur “wherever proud people with strong but in part irrational traditions, feel defeated or radically unsettled by aspects of Western-Dominated modernity.” Of course, this reflects on today’s modern-day debacles between the east and the west and the different forms of terror that each bring upon the other. Lievan writes that “humiliation of the Arab and Muslim world by Israel is so infuriating to them in part because it is only the last in a long history of defeats starting in the seventeenth century and extending far into the twentieth—overwhelmingly at the hands of the Christian Western world.” The consistent humiliation and defeat at the hands of more economically, politically, and militaristically powerful nations has driven the Mid-East into displaying abhorrent actions of violence in order to remedy what they see as equally abhorrent actions of violence from the west. The model attempts to look at these actions and strategize ways in which western governments and western individuals can work to reduce feelings of shame placed on eastern countries and cultures.

Given that people involved with The Last Jedi have hinted at themes of terrorism and the blurring of the lines between who is right and who is wrong, I am convinced that Rian will tackle not only the thought-provoking and often divisive feelings of shame and its accompanying violence, but more importantly what remedies these feelings. Dostoevsky has handled these themes in the past, however, they were presented through a nihilistic lens wherein a character’s shame was resolved by violently eliminating the source of the shame. This was the case for Smerdyakov in The Brothers Karamazov who had—like Kylo--committed patricide to right the negative feelings he held towards his father’s neglect. According to J.P. Moran, author of “The Roots of Terrorist Motivation: Shame, Rage, and Violence in The Brothers Karamazov”, “Smerdyakov was lashing out violently at the very source of his humiliation [by murdering his father]…after doing so successfully, his mission is complete.”

However, we know this was not the case for Kylo Ren. When Kylo committed patricide, this marked the beginning of his journey and not the end of it. As Adam Driver has pointed out, “patricide is not all it’s cracked up to be.”

While we will get a further understanding into why Kylo Ren acts the way he does, we also have reason to believe this will not be a static narrative bent on making the “villain” look one sided or irredeemable.

“Kylo, who killed Han Solo, despite the fact that he was his real father; will the hopeful small amount of light that still remains in his heart be able to undo the darkness!?” -Star Wars Japan (Thanks to @sleemo and @sakurau121 for translations!)

”[Kylo and Rey] are almost two halves of our protagonist.” --Rian Johnson, New York Times, 2017

What this tells me is unlike other narratives that have explored shame and violence, the ending of the shamed character’s arc will not conclude with violence and tragedy, but instead they will be able to gain what they thought lost: love, understanding, and belonging.

And there are roots for this in TFA, as well as all through-out what little we know of Ben’s life, particularly in a young Ben Solo’s interactions with the highly manipulative, authoritarian force user, Snoke.

Examples of Kylo Ren and Shame in Star Wars Canon

Moran explains that Dostoevsky thought shame “[could] be defined as the withdrawal of love. Shame experienced as a child can be particularly devastating. Ultimately, this can end in violence” (e.g. patricide).

Obviously—while shrouded in mystery—we have enough of an understanding of Kylo Ren’s childhood to know that he felt shamed by his parents, his uncle, and, most importantly, in my opinion, Snoke.

We know that Kylo Ren has experienced some form of neglect from his parents as a child. Most notably Kylo—during the interrogation scene with Rey—mentions that Han would have “disappointed” her, referencing some event in the past wherein Ben likely felt neglected by his father. However, to what extent we are not quite sure. How much neglect Ben did receive as a child becomes even more clouded by his relationship to Snoke.

We know from Aftermath (and comments by JJ) that Ben was “targeted” by Snoke before he was born and that Snoke was “grooming” Ben. Leia says to Han in The Force Awakens novelization that Snoke was “always” with Ben. Leia comments: “From the shadows, in the beginning, he was manipulating everything, pulling our son towards the dark side.”

While there is still a lot to uncover here, I think it’s possible that Ben’s initial withdrawal of love and shame were not necessarily due to his parents but instead due to Snoke causing Ben to believe that Han and Leia were neglecting Ben more than they actually were (if they really were at all).

I make this conclusion based on conversations between Kylo and Snoke in TFA and how Snoke speaks to Kylo in ways that shame Kylo for feeling any sense of attachment or emotion towards any other person.

In The Force Awakens novelization, Snoke tells Kylo about the Empire and its fall. He explains: “The historians have it all wrong. It was neither poor strategy nor arrogance that brought down the Empire. You know too well what did.”

Ren nodded once “Sentiment.”

Here, Snoke is shaming the Empire, and specifically Anakin, for failing to turn Luke Skywalker and instead, in Vader’s effort to save Skywalker, sent the Empire toppling down.

By equating love with humiliation (something that is rather tragically ironic since Ben’s shame is really—at the core—the loss of love), Snoke makes it easier (in theory) for Kylo to kill his father. Affirming to his master that he will not be humiliated, Kylo tells Snoke: “[Han] means nothing to me. My allegiance is with you. No one will stand in our way.”

In a highly manipulative move, Snoke doubts Kylo’s ability to stay free of his shame (shame here being giving into love) and responds: “We shall see. We shall see.”

This theme comes up later in the novelization, as well, when Kylo is unable to get the map from Rey’s mind.

Snoke begins by shaming Kylo by telling him “This Scavenger—this girl—resisted you?” He further humiliates Kylo, telling him that he has failed him by getting involved with the most humiliating of emotions: sentiment.

“You have compassion for her,” Snoke accuses Ben. He follows: “I perceive the problem…it is not her strength that is making you fail, it’s your weakness.”

Getting back to Ben’s childhood…The shame that was instilled inside Kylo either naturally via the actions of his own parents or artificially via Snoke’s manipulation was only heightened when Leia and Han sent Ben away to Luke. Leia says it herself that “that’s when [Han and Leia] lost him.” It’s possible that Snoke—attempting to make Han and Leia believe that they cared little for Ben—used Ben being sent away to Luke as a way to gain Ben’s trust.

The true beginnings of shame and the withdrawal of love begin in this moment when Ben becomes Luke’s responsibility. What transpires between these two we won’t exactly know until The Last Jedi, however, it’s obvious that the big event that solidifies Kylo’s shame and what ultimately leads him to perform acts of violence is the burning of the Jedi Temple.

There are several theories I have seen about the Jedi Temple burning. The most recent of which is that the Jedi Temple burning could have been an accident as a result of Kylo’s incredible power that he could not control. If this were the case, it’s possible that Luke, terrified by what he had witnessed, was not able to understand the situation, and thusly turned his back on Ben. This would instill a great deal of shame in Ben since yet another member of his family is turning his back on him. Humiliated by his own power, sent off by his family, and possibly manipulated to think nobody ever cared about him in the first place, Ben finally succumbs to Snoke and The First Order.

There could also have been a disagreement between Luke and Ben before the burning of the Jedi temple that could have instilled the same feelings in Ben and led him to succumb to Snoke first. This means that the burning the Jedi Temple would have been his first act of violence fueled by feelings of abandonment, shame, humiliation, and loss of love.

Regardless, Ben becomes Kylo Ren and enters The First Order where he is shamed even further. I have already explained moments in which Snoke uses love, light, and sentiment to make Kylo feel shame. However, this is not the only occurrence. Hux also loves to humiliate Kylo. For example, when Kylo cannot get the map from Rey, Hux takes the opportunity to shame him in front of his boss, exclaiming “Ren believed the droid was no longer of value to us…He believed that the girl was all we needed.”

What is interesting here is Hux has arguably been shamed himself. He has been neglected and abused as a child and thrown into the First Order. He too commits the (PHASMA SPOILERS HERE!!) act of patricide, destroying the source of his shame. However, I see no indication that Hux will break the cycle of shame and violence. Instead he will be the foil to Kylo (as Hux fans have pointed out for years) who remains static within the cycle.

The last moment of shame we see from Kylo is of course his defeat at the hands of Rey. The marketing has used the words “humiliation” to describe the event and no doubt Snoke and Hux are about to do what they do best and humiliate him further.

However, I do not think this moment of humiliation will cause the cycle to repeat. Theoretically, Kylo would want to find the source of his humiliation and destroy Rey. Obviously, this isn’t going to happen. As I mentioned above, Daisy has stated that the relationship between Rey and Kylo is vague. The Japanese marketing for the film has also mentioned that these characters “resonate,” which does not spell out “mortal enemies” to me. Additionally, the trailer gives it away that Kylo isn’t looking to kill Rey but is still looking for her to join him. What I think this all means…I’ll come back to that later.

Kylo Ren and Dostoevsky: Similarities between Shame and Violence in The Brothers Karamazov and The Force Awakens

Kylo is undoubtedly prone to the cycle that forms the foundations of The Shame Model. Feeling humiliated and disgraced, Kylo feels validated in his violent actions, seeing them only as a solution to terrible things that had already been inflicted upon him.

In Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, brothers Dmitri, Ivan, and Smerdyakov (Alyosha has been omitted as he serves as a foil to the three brothers listed and I’m not going to be speaking about him) all feel some degree of shame after they have felt abandoned by their father. Each brother deals with this shame in their own way—one attempting to find love and belonging, one completely uprooting themselves to run away from the shame altogether, and one committing the act of patricide to right the wrong he believes has been committed against him. I believe that—while obviously not matching up with these brothers exactly—Kylo can serve as a composite of all three of these characters and how they react in the cycle of shame and violence.

Let’s start with Dmitri.

Dmitri is his father, Fyodor’s, first son and he rejects his father and his father’s abandonment of him (Dmitri was essentially raised by servants as his mother was already dead). Moran explains that “because of this abandonment and the complete lack of a mother figure, the reader is left to conclude that Dmitri has serious deficit of familial love.”

Of course this sounds like Kylo, at least in what he has been led to believe by Snoke, as he feels like he too has been abandoned by his family. Even more so, the book explains that Dmitri had almost two personas—one of his tortured soul and the other of who society wanted him to be. Dostoevsky writes:

“Others, who saw something pensive and sullen in [Dmitri’s] eyes were startled by his sudden laugh, which revealed light-hearted thoughts while his eyes seemed so gloomy.”

This is also like Kylo. The laugh and light-heartedness represent outwardly what society wants him to be. This is Dmitri’s “mask.” Kylo’s interpretation is more literal as he literally wears a mask, which represents what The First Order/Snoke wants him to be. Snoke in many ways represents the “society” that Kylo is forced to live by (which could open up another conversation on the authoritarian rule that exists in places where terrorism and shame are often rampant but that is a different analysis…). Kylo doesn’t seem to want to be in The First Order, however, for reasons explained above, he felt like The First Order was likely the last place that may be able to accept him.

Getting back to Dmitri, in order to release himself from the shame he feels about being abandoned, he does two things: (1) He attempts to find love with a woman named Grushenka and (2) he commits further acts of shame and violence including stealing from his fiancé Katarina and attacking Captain Snegiryov, an impoverished man who engages in a fight with Dmitri in a bar.

To the first point, it is alluded to through-out The Force Awakens that Kylo does have moments where, despite inevitably being shamed by Snoke for doing so, Kylo treats Rey in ways we have never seen him treat other characters in the story (e.g. see the comparison between Poe’s interrogation scene and Rey’s, as well as the comparison between Finn’s fight with Kylo and Rey’s fight with Kylo). JJ says in the commentary that the audience is supposed to consider that Kylo’s character isn’t quite right in his scenes with Rey and that something else is going on here. There has been a lot of meta written on this topic and if you’re not familiar with it, start here.

Per the second point, Moran writes that “This self loathing shame of being a thief leads to the uncontrollable rage that compels [Dmitri] to senselessly attack Captain Snegiryov.”

A similar thing happens in TFA. When confronted with Lor San Tekka, Kylo is reminded of his family. Lor reminds him how he has left them and also how Kylo believes they have left him. This likely leads to a moment of conflict and anger within Kylo, spurred on by his hatred for both himself and his parents. In the end, Kylo kills Lor San Tekka, a seemingly helpless man representative of his past, just as Dmitri attacks the impoverished Captain Snegiryov who serves as a foil for his past (Snegiryov is the foil to Fyodor. Snegiryov is a loving father to his child, while Fyodor was not).

Dmitir’s brother Ivan copes with shame in a different manner. Ivan seeks familial love through intellectualism and fame. Eventually, his ideology makes him incapable of love and he rejects what he believed in and where he came from.

Ivan admits “perhaps I was guilty; perhaps I really had a secret desire for my father’s death.” However, he never acts on it. Instead, Ivan goes through great lengths to change himself in order to reject the roots of what he was and who he was. In Moran’s words, “[he rejects] the morality and customs of Russia.”

This is of course similar to Ben Solo’s transition into Kylo wherein he “kills” the roots of who he is. “You son is gone” he tells his father on the bridge on Starkiller. “He was weak and foolish like his father, so I destroyed him.” He rejects his ability to love again or understand that Han is there to offer peace between them by at least attempting to reject the existence of Ben Solo altogether.

Finally, Smerdyakov has similarities with Kylo too, mostly because they both end up committing patricide out of extreme shame. Moran explains that “Smerdyakov is an extreme victim of humiliation and shame. He is also the most important character of the novel in displaying the effects of such extreme shame. This shame destroyed his self-esteem, ultimately resulting in rage.”

Smerdyakov’s shame stems not only from lack of familial love but also from public humiliation.

Smerdyakov is often dehumanized in the novel.

Gregory, a servant, says to Smerdyakov that “you are not a human being. You emerged from the mildew in the bathouse. That’s what you are.” Gregory also later refers to him as a “monster” who cares for “no one.”

Kylo is also dehumanized in TFA. He dehumanizes himself, of course, by putting himself behind a mask but more importantly he is dehumanized by Rey twice when she calls him a “creature” and a “monster.”

Smerdyakov also states that, “They used to call me a stinking bastard in Moscow…Gregory blames me for rebelling against my birth, but I would have welcomed their killing me before I was born so that I might not have come into the world at all…I am ready to burst with rage. I hate all of Russia.”

Now I can only speculate on the similarities between Kylo and Smerdyakov here but it is possible that Kylo’s shame may stem from the reveal in Bloodline that he is Darth Vader’s grandson and when people found out about it, this could have shamed Ben Solo. This may play into the destruction of the Jedi Temple, as well.

Where Smerdyakov and Ben really deviate is in their endings. As I stated before, Smerdyakov feels like his story is complete after he kills his father. Kylo Ren’s story, on the other hand, seems like it will use his father’s death to really kick-start his character development in the sequel trilogy. It also has become evident that Kylo’s arc will come into contact with another character who has also felt shame due to the withdrawal of love: Rey

Rey and Feelings of Shame in The Last Jedi

Rey is hard to analyze because we really haven’t seen her deal with the shame she feels for being abandoned. We caught glimpses in her force back, as well as shame and guilt for being away from Jakku. However, by accepting to take the lightsaber to Luke Skywalker, it shows she has taken Maz’s words to heart. Her belonging is not behind her, it is ahead.

That being said, it would be a disservice to Rey’s character to show her bounce back from living in a loveless state for over a decade. Rey moving on to Ahch-To does not erase the fact that she was abandoned and left alone, quite possibly just to die. I’m assuming that Rey is not Luke’s daughter and that she is going to have to deal with the fact that her parents did indeed leave her behind.

This throws Rey into the cycle of shame and violence, unless she can find a way to heal the withdrawal of love she has felt all her life. We do have some evidence, however, that Rey will at least slip in the direction of violence.

“Rey, who, even though in the previous film ‘The Force Awakens’ awakened the Force, carries a sense of being lost and unsure; will she be taken away by the darkness….”--Star Wars Japan, 2017

“And what about Rey? Does she make the right decision? Through the multifaceted nature of those characters, you can see it.”--Daisy Ridley, Yahoo Japan, 2017

From here, I think the narrative of TLJ can go one of two ways:

Option 1: The narrative can take a nihilistic viewpoint similar to Dostoevsky’s novels. This means that Rey will likely fall to the dark side as she succumbs to her shame. She will perform terrible acts of violence as she seeks to lash out against her humiliation, abandonment, self-loathing, and lack of love that she has experienced since she was a child. Kylo will also follow suit, seeking out the true source of his shame (whether this is Snoke, Rey, or Luke or all three) and destroying it This narrative continues the circular act of violence and how one wrong leads to more wrongs around and around until nobody exactly knows what they are fighting for or where they started.

OR Option 2...

Moran points out the other option in his analysis of Dostoevsky’s work. Moran states:

“If Dostoevsky is correct that shame and humiliation lie at the motivational root of [terrorism], is he also correct that these feelings among terrorists…can be mollified through humble love?”

In other words, how can these characters break this cycle? Where else can they go? How can love and understanding play a part?

My final speculation leading into The Last Jedi (because this speculation crap has officially worn me out) is that Rian will not the nihilistic view and will instead open up a discussion about how to remedy poor decisions made by those who feel as if they have been deeply wronged. As Dostoevsky explains through his stories, he believes the route to this is love and understanding; filing the voids left by other people and controlling and reversing the cycle of shame by empathizing and, more importantly, showing compassion and love for people instead of shaming and humiliating them.

Arguably, for Rey, Finn can fill this position. When Finn comes back for her on Starkiller, Rey is obviously impacted. Nobody has ever returned for her before. However, Finn and Rey are going to be separated in TLJ, making it difficult for me to conclude that Finn could be the person to help Rey through the emotional struggles she is about to go through (additionally, Finn has his own shame and neglect to deal with and it sounds like Rose is going to be the person to help him with that…).

The other option for Rey would be Luke. However, Luke seems as if he will further Rey’s humiliation and shame by rejecting her for her “raw power.” He will be unable to show Rey the belonging, understanding, or love that she needs.

So who does that leave us with?

Well, frankly I think it’s pretty obvious and I think we’ve been given the answer:

““The things that happen to these two people [Rey and Kylo] are emotional, and it’s really important for the viewer to empathize,” [says Rian Johnson] who apparently coaxed performances that would get at the inner feelings of these two characters more than the previous film.” -Rian Johnson, Excite Japan News, 2017 (thanks again @sleemo for posting!)

At the start of The Last Jedi we have two characters who have experienced extreme shame due to the withdrawal of love.

Both Rey and Kylo have also been thrown into unusual, unforeseen circumstances; Rey into the desert wasteland of Jakku and Ben into a world where the galaxy’s most well-known terrorist turns out to be his grandfather.

Both Rey and Kylo have held on to lives they thought they could belong in;. Rey believed she could have a life where her parents were present and caring. Kylo is a bit more complicated depending on which interpretation suits your perspective of his character at the moment. He arguably could still be dealing with letting go of his life as Ben Solo, or, living with his decision to belong in the First Order where he believed that Snoke was doing what was best for him.

Both Rey and Kylo have realized they have both made terrible decisions. Rey must realize that she has been holding out hope for a false reality and Kylo must come to grips with committing patricide. He must also face all of the violent acts he thought would bring him further and further away from his own self-loathing, humiliation, and whatever else we’re going to find out that went down between him and Luke.

Additionally, Rey and Kylo are both connected to the current sources of the other’s shame. Rey sees Kylo as the murderer of one of the only hopes for belonging she could have held onto outside of her own family and Rey is the most recent culprit of Kylo’s humiliation at the hands of Snoke and Hux.

They are “two halves of our protagonist” “two halves of the dark and the light” and “two halves of something.”

All of this pushes me to believe that Rey and Kylo will break the cycle of shame and violence together by finding love, understanding, and belonging in each other.

As much as I am fascinated by nihilism, Johnson is not a nihilist. The biggest proof of that is in his film Looper wherein a cycle of loss and violence is also broken by the protagonist.

And even Dostovesky and his “nihilistic abyss” were not void of optimism. He too left clues in his own work that such deeply rooted emotions and consequences can be broken by the fearless acts of both sides—each feeling like they are right in their own ways. Finishing out his essay, Moran writes:

“Although Dostoevsky burrowed to the root of terrorism, he also seems to have felt that there was some cause for hope. Spring will come, the path will clear, and the demons will cast themselves into the sea.”

And that, really, is what Star Wars has always been about.

#kylo ren #rey #tlj speculation #tlj spoilers #fyodor dostoevsky #the brothers karamazov #star wars #Star Wars theory #the last jedi #reylo #honestly I don't know if this is a meta or speculation but I'm calling it a speculation #ben solo #ben solo redemption #kylo ren redemption

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buzzfeedwheeze · 7 years ago

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The New Teacher - Shyan fanfic

This is not complete, and I just wrote it, so there might be mistakes and ugh I hope it’s not that bad.

Shane parked the car in front of the school and to his horror there were already a bunch of teens leaving the building. Fuck. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. He was late. Of all days to be late it had to be on the first day after he won the shared custody. He had fought so hard during two years of trials to keep his boy and now he felt like at any time Sara would appear out of thin air and take Andrew away again. His mind began to swirl with flashbacks of Sara telling him he wouldn’t be able to take care of their son since he didn’t even know how to take care of himself. Shane started to feel the familiar sensation of a hand clutching his heart as it began to race and the numbness beginning to spread. Before his sense of reality was affected, Shane jumped out of the car and slammed the door as if trying to keep the negative thoughts locked inside the car as he searched for his boy. It wasn’t the time for an anxiety attack.

Navigating through the sea of loud teenagers wasn’t a problem with his long legs, but looking for his son in the midst of them was next to impossible so he tried instead to look for Andrew’s friend, a tall boy named Steven. His heart kept a rapid pace and there was a slight tremor on his hands but when he spotted Steven’s unmistaken silver hair he sighed in relief.

As Shane was approaching them he noticed that Steven, who was apparently having an enthusiastic conversation with a boy he vaguely remembered was called Andy or Adam, had his arms wrapped around his son’s waist. Shane smirked, he was totally going to rub it on Sara’s face. Who’s the good parent now? He always felt like maybe they were more than just good friends. Andrew was always a quiet kid, but when Steven was around, it was like his son was a completely different person. Watching his boy resting his head on the chest of the tall boy and chuckling at whatever non sense they were discussing, warmed his heart.

Steven was the first one to see him.

“Hi, Mr. Madej!” he shouted and waved his hand like a maniac. Andrew on the other hand was frozen, he looked from Shane to Steven’s arms wrapped around his waist. He began to move but Shane just smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Andrew clearly relaxed at that and mouthed a thank you to his father before melting again in Steven’s arms.

“Hey, Steven, kiddo” Andrew rolled his eyes at the stupid nickname but he jumped into the open arms of his father. Shane hugged him tight, afraid that he would disappear. “I missed you a lot son.” his voice was strained and he tried to control the urge to cry.

“Me too, dad.” Andrew let go of him slowly. He then looked at the ground, pink coloring his cheeks, and asked “Do you think it would be okay to invite Steven to have dinner with us tomorrow?”

“Well, I don’t see why that would be a problem.” Andrew gave him one of those rare million-watt smile. “But we’ll have to talk about you two. I don’t want to pressure you but as a father I need to know certain things.”he whispered so that no one would hear them. Well, this is awkward.

“Why are you two blushing?” Steven asked, an eyebrow raised as he searched their faces for answers.

“Oh, for fuck sake! Not now, Steven!” Andrew barked at the other boy.

“Whatever you say honey.” he just shrugged and turned to Adam. “So as I was saying, Mr. Bergara is so cool! He’s the new physics teacher, but he’s really young and he did an alien’s facts pop quiz on our class. Can you believe that?”

Shane was about to ask if Andrew was ready to go when he heard the words ‘alien’, ‘teacher’ and ‘class’ on the same sentence. He shook his head, there was no way he heard it right. “Steven, my boy, care to repeat what you just said?”

Steven Lim, a genuine sweetheart, smiling like his words carried no real danger said “You see, Mr. Madej, our new teacher is super cool. Today, he was wearing a shirt of an old tv series about aliens and all that stuff, and a this girl, Jen, asked him if he believed in extraterrestrial beings… Things escalated quickly and the whole class was about aliens and theories.”

“We even had a great debate between skeptics and believers, dad.” Andrew’s voice dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t worry, I know it’s all bullshit.”

“That’s my kid” he laughed. “Bergara, right? Wait here, I’m going to have a talk with this new teacher.” As he turned his back to the boys he could practically hear Andrew’s eyes rolling and Steven’s barely contained laugh.

Shane couldn’t believe that a teacher decided that it was proper to start babbling about lizard people and crazy people abduction’s stories at a fucking school. This guy was shaping the bright minds of the future and instead of showing the kids how amazing science can be, he was teaching them how to become professional ghosthunters for fuck sake. Not that he hated people who believed in aliens and ghosts or that he considered them to be stupid or crazy, but the school was not the place to discuss that horseshit.

He was wandering through the empty corridors of the school mumbling how he was going to show that new professor what’s real science when he heard a voice calling from behind. Shane turned quickly and almost fell when he noticed the cute asian guy standing by the lockers and staring at him like he grew a second head.

“Hm… Hi.” the man’s voice was unsure. “Can I help you in any way, sir?” Shane’s mind was blank. Hell yeah, you can go on a date with me Mr. Big Arms. Shane shook his head trying to make the inappropriate thoughts go away. “So, I can’t help you?”

Fuck

“No” Shane began to approach him and he had to hold his breath because that man was fucking beautiful. And also pretty small. “Sorry, I’m Shane Madej.”

The man chuckled and extended his hand which Shane quickly accepted. “I’m Ryan Bergara. I think your kid is my student.”

Kill Bill’s sirens began to sound on Shane’s head and he quickly retracted his hand causing the other man to arch en eyebrow. “You are the alien believer!”

Ryan was now more defensive as he pointed to his X-files tee. “Well, yeah. They are real!” he wheeze, and if that wasn’t adorable then Shane didn’t know what adorable meant.

“No fucking way! You’re not teaching my kid all this alien crap. There might be aliens, but they’re just like a bacteria or something like that. Aren’t you supposed to be teaching formulas and stuff?”

“That’s such a boring view about extraterrestrial creatures ” Ryan snorted. “Next, you’re going to tell me you don’t believe in ghost, Mr. Madej.”

“Oh no! I thought I was just exaggerating things in my head, but you are insane!” he laughed. “You’re teaching the kids about ghouls on the next class? Will you make a seminar on bigfoot?”

“If I decide to do a seminar on the sasquatch I might as well invite you, since you are fine specimen of bigfoot.” he said between little giggles. “As much as I’d like to keep this discussion I have to go now. I have to correct the answers of the alien quiz I did today.” with that he turned around and strode off.

Shane would be lying if he said wasn’t mesmerized by the swing of the other man’s hips. And those tight jeans were the definition of sin on his dictionary. Shane sighed. “I’m fucked.”

He quickly left the school building and found Andrew alone waiting by the car while texting someone on his phone. Andrew looked up with curiosity as he noticed how perturbed his father was. Without saying a word they entered in the car. Only after a couple of minutes in an awkward silence, Andrew decided to speak.

“How was your talk with Mr. Bergara? Did you give him hell?”

“His a tiny prick. That’s what he is. A tiny and very cute prick who has no clue about the impact of his actions. Heads up kiddo, next class will be about ghouls and demons.” he rolled his eyes. “I need you to give him a taste of what hell is like. Show him no mercy, ask questions, bring videos of his ‘proof’ being debunked. I trust you to follow your Madej instincts.”

“So, you already got a crush on my new teacher?”

“What? No.” Shane’s mind was singing ‘don’t be suspicious’ on a loop. “Where did you get this idea?” his hands were all sweaty but his grip on the steering wheel was like iron.

“You confessed that you think he’s cute.” Andrew was smirking. “I’m just exposing the facts, I’m a Madej.”

“I taught you so well, you little shit.” Shane was laughing “But I’m not talking about that with you.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s nothing to talk about in the first place. Your new teacher is cute” and a tease, and sexy and full of shit. “That’s all. However, if you are so keen on talking about relationships, how about you tell me about you and Steven?”

“Ugh, dad!” Andrew put on his headphones and Shane just laughed. It was good to have his kid back.

#fanfic #shyan fanfic #mine #buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed worth it #shane madej #ryan bergara #andrew ilnyckyj #or madej?#steven lim

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xranker · 5 years ago

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Questions About Hell I Never Thought to Ask When I Was Christian

0 Comments Questions About Hell I Never Thought to Ask When I Was Christian June 4, Hi and welcome back! As y’all know, I grew up as a very fervent Christian before deconverting around 1994 I deconverted because I found out the religion’s main claims simply aren’t true That said, for years afterward I kept finding more and more Christian claims that turned out to be equally untrue! Deconversion opened up a whole new capacity to make observations and ask questions that I’d never imagined while I was Christian And a lot of those observations and questions came up around the topic of Hell Join me today for a romp through the stuff about Hell I never even thought about till after leaving Christianity! ( James Lee ) The photographer isn’t kidding! — See here for a list of cities named for some variant of Hell This one’s in the Cayman Islands (I decided we’ll need a second part to this post about similar questions about Heaven Stay tuned for that one on Saturday. Also, it is very important to me to note that most of the following questions have hand-waving answers I guarantee any Christians reading this post that I’ve heard these false answers since deconverting. I consider them unsatisfactory Yes, even that one And that one) The Most Sickening, Cruel, and Evil Doctrine in a Religion Full of Contenders for the Title A lot of the really disgusting, grotesque, evil, cruel, stomach-churning gruesomeness in Christianity gets glossed over with centuries of iconography, re-framing, and very fine art and architecture Nonetheless, Christianity remains a very ugly ideology containing largely very ugly foundations Some Christians these days seek to de-fang and redeem this dreadful religion I don’t think it’s possible, but it’s their one lifetime to spend however they wish ( an it harm none ) And usually, they zero in quickly on Christianity’s most repulsive, sickening, and evil doctrine of all: the idea that a good and loving god who cherishes justice and compassion could ever send anybody to the afterlife commonly known by Christians as “Hell” Out of every evil doctrine contained in Christianity, Hell stands supreme as the worst of all of them The moment I know that a particular Christian believes in Hell as a destination for noncompliant humans, I know quite a bit about that person that they really shouldn’t ever want anyone to know Belief in Hell drives humans to do and accept evildoing that chills good people to the bone–and not only to excuse it in their own god, but to revel in the idea of him doing this to their enemies It also cows good people and terrorizes them into bending knee to this evil ideology and those who promote it No wonder early Christian evangelists pushed the idea of Hell so hard No wonder at all It allowed them to work all the dark deeds they craved, to brutally control those who might otherwise oppose them, and to gain power they did not otherwise deserve to wield Oh yes Hell, as a concept, has been most useful to Christian leaders–most useful indeed That’s why they push it hard even today– like John Piper recently did to parents , hoping they’ll impress their young children with the horrors he imagines exist in Hell (Check out his herpy-derp Jesus smile in the pic at that link Sick!) And Yet Hell-belief isn’t universal among Christians–even among the most extremist of them You’d think that evangelicals, having fused completely with fundamentalists by now, would be nearly-unanimous there However, according to the 2015 Pew Religious Landscape Study , only about 82% of them hold that belief The demographics involved are interesting, to say the least In 2016, LifeWay put out their own ( poor-quality ) survey about general Americans’ Hell-belief In it, they discovered that only 40% of survey respondents agreed with their official party line about Hell I don’t take this survey nearly as seriously as I do Pew’s, but it’s useful to gain an idea of general trends Chances are good that America is heading in the same direction as Western Europe in terms of beliefs It all makes me wonder if maybe people are starting to ask some serious questions about a belief that back in my day seemed as universally accepted as, say, belief in Germ Theory Back then, I didn’t even think about some of this stuff I didn’t even know how to formulate these concerns, much less ask serious questions about them First Off, Which Hell? First and foremost, I had no idea how many visions of Hell there are in religions from humanity’s past and present I thought only Christianity had a real Hell As it turns out, however, plenty of religions divide their afterlife into pleasant and unpleasant sections, sending the deserving to the pleasant one after death–and everyone else to the other Wikipedia presents us with a list of some of these Hells: Kur: the Sumerian afterlife Dark, dreary, and unpleasant A lavish burial and libations from family members could alleviate the unpleasantness A lake of fire: Egyptians believed that people who misbehaved in life were thrown there Ammit, a demon goddess called “the devourer of the dead,” ruled it Tartarus: the Greek religion’s place of torment for immoral people Anaon: a sort of Hellish place in old Breton folk religion , where the damned do penance Peklo: an old pagan Slavic Hell where souls atoned for their crimes Rotaimo: the realm of the dead of Sámi shamanism , ruled over by the god Ruohtta Anyone who didn’t live according to the religion’s principles ended up there forever Naraka: in Hinduism, where souls go for expiation of sins Hetgwauge: in the First Nations’ Haida mythology , bad people go to this dismal, unpleasant place to be tortured Among other punishments, souls there get to watch the lord of that realm eating their dead body. I could go on and on and on With so many hells to choose from, why would someone fear Christians’ Hell but none of the others? What makes Christianity’s Hell correct, and all these other Hells incorrect? And I should have wondered this I read mythology voraciously as a child–my family had books around like Bullfinch’s Mythology and the like Somehow, though, it never occurred to me to wonder why the Hell that my society overwhelmingly believed was real just happened to be the one worth fearing over all others How Does Eternal Torture Work Out to Justice? Most Christians who buy into the idea of Hell consider it to be an eternal destination full of absolutely nothing but torture . These same exact Christians also tend to think that when children die young or get born with catastrophic congenital conditions that are completely incompatible with life, all that horrific stuff happens for a reason–even if they don’t know what that reason might be Some of them punt to mystery Others default to sin nature (the idea that the supposed wrongdoing of Adam and Eve passed down to their children for all time; we’ll cover this bizarre, crazymaking notion in more detail soon) What Christians don’t tend to do is insist that these children deserved to suffer and have brief, horrific lives of pain. Such an idea is monstrous, even to them They also don’t tend to believe that these infants and children who die so young end up in Hell There’s a reason why so many Hell-believing Christians issue children a get-out-of-eternal-torture-free card Hell, as it stands, represents the most obscene injustice imaginable It lasts forever Those stuck there can never expect pardons Its pain is purely punitive, not rehabilitative, so it exists purely as a form of vengeance for what largely exist in Christian mythology as thought crimes (such as disbelief in the mythology itself ); going there hinges surprisingly little on how good and decent a person is during life Christians want the people who go to such a cruel fate to deserve it somehow –otherwise their god is unjust And even the TRUEST of TRUE CHRISTIANS™ know that infants did nothing to deserve such a fate Even to suggest such a thing around a dead child’s grieving family would likely provoke a reaction that’d end up on the evening news Why did I never wonder how an eternity of punishment for a finite lifetime’s offenses works out to divine, ultimate justice? Tasting Without a Tongue Of course, I’m getting ahead of myself bigtime. Nobody has ever found any objective support for the idea of any afterlife, much less the Christian conceptualization of it Near-Death Experiences (NDEs) remain subjective and highly-dependent upon their experiencers’ cultural beliefs about the afterlife The fact that finally broke me of the notions of Heaven and Hell is simply this: everything we think, feel, sense with our five senses (or six, as some scientists reckon it, adding in proprioception ) comes from the physical nature of our bodies These bodies, specifically The pleasure we feel from sex, eating, dancing, sleeping in, partying, cuddling our pets, running ultra-marathons, you name it: it derives from pleasant sensations striking our nerve endings, taste buds, visual cortex, and whatnot By stimulating our brains or feeding them chemicals of various sorts, we can be made to feel very strong and pleasant emotions We can do the same to alleviate many unpleasant emotional states. But our bodies die–and what makes us us no longer occupies them afterward In many old religions– like that of the ancient Egyptians –eternal life depended absolutely on the preservation of the body, because the soul reunited with it after death Christians generally believe that they’ll get all-new bodies upon reaching Heaven (though they can’t explain what age, gender, or appearance that body will have without making wild guesses) The problem with that idea is that a lot of what makes us us comes from quirks of DNA and conditioning of the bodies we possess right now And a lot of what many people like in this life, like sex, is stuff that the Bible tells us won’t happen in the afterlife The facts remain: we know of no way for people to sense things without a body We remain unable to demonstrate any human sensory perceptions that exist independently of our bodies Why did I not wonder how I’d feel anything without a body to provide the sensations to me? And why did I not wonder how losing this body I occupy now would radically change who I am as a person? Why Were the Christians Around Me So Sure About Who Was Going to Hell? Speaking of a dead child’s grieving family … When powerhouse Christian evangelist Billy Graham died , all kinds of other Christians knew exactly where his soul went afterward Most felt positive that he’d ascended to Heaven A few others, seeking notoriety, loudly insisted that he’d landed in Hell Ask Christians if a truly evil person is in Heaven or Hell, and usually they insist that this person went to Hell They do this even if that person experienced a miraculous conversion before death, like Jeffrey Dahmer did They don’t like imagining themselves sharing Heaven with serial killers, any more than they like imagining a Hell filled with the souls of those who died all too young Christians all appear to have very strong opinions about who is and isn’t in Hell When it’s the fate of someone they love, they’ll generally abstain from judgment or hope for the best Otherwise, they seem quite certain Indeed, I saw many of my peers gloating about the idea of people going to Hell They still do gloat about it , just like they have for many centuries Why didn’t I notice just how self-serving Christians’ opinions were when it came to who was heading for Hell? Why didn’t I notice how often their opinions meshed with their own desires and worldview? Not Without My Mother Now we arrive at possibly my biggest sticking point with Hell-belief This is the one I truly wish had driven me from Christianity, the one I wish had been my dealbreaker I wish it’d been my line crossed–my stentorian roar, my barked-out this far and no further It wasn’t But I wish I’d had the integrity, strength, and compassion back then for it to have been so Why did I not value my loved ones more than I did? Why was I willing to allow Christians to use my fear to separate me from those I loved most? These questions represent a regret that drives me to tears sometimes Every so often, it makes me bite my knuckles, moan fitfully to myself in near-sleep, shake my head as if doing any of this could ever deny those thoughts access to my mind Sometimes, it even works I was just a kid , FFS , so I try to be as gentle as I can with myself Immediately and always and at the end, Mom forgave me The least I can do is try to forgive myself Still, it gets to me sometimes I know damned well what she would have said if someone had tried telling her to abandon her daughters to Hell and enter Heaven without us She’d’a told ’em to stick it! But I folded immediately Why didn’t I notice anything weird about the way so many Christians utilize terror to sell a god of love? Seriously, THIS Is the Best This God Could Do? Part of what I’m talking about today is the Problem of Hell Christians named it that because they can’t satisfactorily answer it So they capitalized it and largely declared the whole shebang too mysterious to answer. Basically, it runs like this: Given that Hell is monstrous, evil, unjust, and in every way antithetical to the values of love, mercy, justice, and compassion, how in the world can any god who values that stuff allow anyone to go to such a realm? I can really see why some Christians opt out of the whole mess by renouncing the entire concept But Jesus clearly believed that Hell was a real place He also taught that it was somewhere people could end up going –even if they were positive they were going to Heaven But the idea of Hell gets even worse than that when we start wondering how an omnimax god could even have designed a cosmology involving Hell I’m not even a god and I could do a lot better than what Christianity has evolved over the centuries It’s beyond painfully obvious to me now that Hell exists in Christianity because its hucksters couldn’t sell the religion without it They still can’t. Hell: The Cage of Feral Rats, Lowered Over Christians’ Heads It hurts to think that anything could have terrorized me so much that I would ever forget what is most important I forgot every single value important to me: objective truth, compassion, kindness, community, integrity, all of it No more Not ever again Christians can keep their evil god and their disgustingly perverse doctrine of eternal torture for noncompliance They can use it to sever ties of their own–to rend mother from child, brother from sister, and lovers from each other But I know the tactic for what it is now Woe betide the next charlatans seeking to induce terror in me, hoping that fear will ensure an easier sale of whatever snake oil they’re selling See, thanks to Christianity, I now know exactly what questions to ask about whatever pitch they try NEXT UP: A quirky little 80s cartoon becomes relevant again–somehow What in the world?!? Join me next time and find out! Then we ask the big questions wondered about when I was Christian Read the full article

#Adam #America #basicchristianmaturityseminartopics #christiantopics #christiantopicsfordiscussion #christiantopicsforelocution #christiantopicsforyouth #JamesLee #youthdiscussiontopicschristian

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kaoruyogi · 8 years ago

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How to Win Wars and Influence Nobles (Ch. 10)

Rating: E for Explicit/NSFW Content! (Eventually)

Check it out on AO3!

You’d think a video game lawyer could just drop into a pseudo-medieval universe filled with magic and demons and be totally okay with it, right?

Nah.

In the wake of her brother, Spencer’s, disappearance, Belle dropped into Thedas with luggage, but without a clue. After a brief but memorable panic attack, she resolved to be the best goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. Even if she was the only goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. And even if that obstinate asshole, Cullen, wouldn’t stop giving her the side-eye every time she walked into a room…Or every time he walked into a room with her in it…Or every time they walked into a room together…Or–Fuck it. You get it.

Chapter 10: Run to Her

Cullen,

It seems your informants were correct. There is evidence of red lyrium smuggling in the Emerald Graves that points to a source in Emprise Du Lion. We will be heading there on our way back to Skyhold. One of the letters also mentioned Samson, and though I think it unlikely we will locate him in a quarry in the snow, I will be sure to keep you informed as to what we find.

Max

PS: How is Josephine?

Inquisit Max,

Thank you for your report. I must admit I am pleased to learn that Leliana is not the only one in Skyhold capable of uncovering important information. I agree that it is unlikely you will find Samson in Emprise Du Lion. He was never one for the cold. However, I am concerned as to what you will find there. Reports from the area have been muddled, at best.

Commander Cullen Rutherford

PS: Josephine is well. She left angrily for Val Royeaux just after you did, but she came back in good spirits. Of course, she also has Belle to keep her company and aid her in her work. They have taken to speaking to each other in Antivan, and I confess that I now find it rather unsettling when they laugh.

Cullen,

The Red Templar presence in Emprise Du Lion is almost overwhelming. They are posted along every route from the town of Sahrnia to the quarry, according to the scouts here. It probably also has something to do with the fact that there is red lyrium sprouting up from the ground just about EVERYWHERE. It’s been enough to make us all a little nauseous and lightheaded, which has made fighting and closing the rifts (it feels like there are a hundred) that much more difficult. We’re destroying as many veins as we can, but the stuff just seems to be multiplying.

It does not help me to remember that we must soon return to Adamant in the Western Approach to deal with the Grey Wardens and their blood magic rituals. All of Thedas seems to have lost its collective mind.

Max

PS: Don’t worry about Belle and Josie. I’m sure all they’re talking about is how devilishly handsome and surprisingly good with a sword I am.

Iqu Max,

It is troubling to hear of the volume of red lyrium in Emprise Du Lion. Dagna’s theory is that it grows in places where the veil is thin and thins it further, which would explain the number of rifts. Please make sure to take all necessary precautions, and rest when rest is needed.

Everyone here is working to prepare for our march on Adamant, and Leliana has already dispatched several waves of scouts. I have taken the liberty of sending a number of troops ahead to Griffon Wing Keep to meet with Knight-Captain Rylen and train for the potential battle to come. Josephine and Belle have been reaching out to any nobility with access to troops or siege weapons, and have been successful in gaining numerous pledges for support. I hope to have made you more comfortable in continuing your work in the Emprise without concerning yourself with the tasks ahead.

Commander Cullen

PS: The Antivan-speaking ladies giggled like teenagers when I walked into Josephine’s office yesterday. My worry only continues to mount.

Cullen,

Thank you for all your efforts, including trying to stop referring to me as “Inquisitor” all the time. It is much appreciated.

As you suspected, Samson has been ordering nearly all of the red lyrium from the Sahrnia quarry. Unfortunately, they were also testing it on a number of captives they managed to purchase from Mistress Poulin. We took her into the custody of the Inquisition and set as many people free as we could, but some succumbed to the poisoning shortly thereafter. In any case, Samson has been ordering the red lyrium shipments for delivery to a place called the Shrine of Dumat. Since I don’t know where that is, and since we’re fairly close to home, I shall be returning to Skyhold before we embark in an attempt to capture or kill Samson. I’ll see you in a few days.

Max

PS: I’m sure Belle and Josie aren’t up to anything nefarious, but make sure to lock your office doors when you’re out.

Cullen read over Max’s final letter. A headache was forming behind his eyes. Headaches formed behind his eyes every time he heard or read or thought about red lyrium. It made him sweat and remember lyrium’s sweet song and wonder what red lyrium sounded like inside one’s body. He had heard that it sounded louder and more inviting, that it was warm and burned the blood. That was a sensation he did not need.

His withdrawal symptoms had ebbed, but they had by no means ceased. The nightmares continued their little torments. They plagued him with dreams of horrors that turned into memories of horrors that did not fade or vanish for weeks. He still woke in pools of his own sweat, though the sometimes nightly evidence of his withdrawal had all but stopped overflowing into his days.

Everything but the headaches. They ground dull pain into his forehead and his temples and the backs of his eyes for hours at a time. They were worse when he had to train with the Inquisition’s Templars, who had lyrium flowing and singing strong and proud and tempting in their veins. He tried to limit his time to the Knight-Captains, allowing them to train the knights and recruits, as much as it pained him to give up his leadership to them.

Max’s letters worried Cullen. The amount of red lyrium sprouting from the earth and from the Red Templars in Emprise Du Lion and the effect it had on those who would be unsusceptible to the effects of ordinary lyrium spoke to its power. Cullen would be exposed to it again soon enough. There was no way he would be left at Skyhold while Samson was being captured or killed. He had to be there. He also had to survive it.

Cullen took little solaces where he could. He and Belle were friends, a thought that brought him insurmountable happiness in the moments he felt most low. They rarely argued, and when they did, she never stormed off. She stayed and discussed their disagreement with a level head until they were both satisfied. It was hard for her sometimes, as it was for him. He had seen her clench her fists a time or two.

He also got to be close to her. He got to touch her, in fact. It was always as her mock-attacker, and she always quivered and trembled against him, but he would take any contact he could get. That she still seemed scared enough to shake like that was puzzling, though she denied being afraid every time.

He would miss seeing and touching and hearing her while he was away. Max would be back that night, and they would likely undertake their journey to the Shrine of Dumat within the following days. Scouts had already gone and sent word back as to the Shrine’s precise location, and Max did not like to get comfortable at home when he knew he would have to leave again. He did not require the same commitment from his inner circle. He would be sure to leave Blackwall, Cole, and Varric behind when he and Cullen left for the Shrine, and had already sent word for Sera, Dorian, and Iron Bull to prepare for the journey. Max’s guard, including Spencer, would stay with him.

It pained Cullen to know that Belle would be without her brother and some of her closest friends while he was gone. She would still have Josephine and Leliana and that healer, Eudora, with whom she’d become so friendly. He supposed she would have them with her when everyone left for Adamant, too. The thought gave him little comfort.

She came to see him in his office that afternoon. Orlesian and Fereldan nobility were in residence at Skyhold, so she wore clothes designed by the same Rivaini tailor that had created her now bloodied and ruined ballgown. Cullen did not pretend to understand a single thing about fashion, let alone Rivaini fashion, but he could not fathom why every Rivaini woman he’d ever met had been so exposed. When Belle walked into his office that afternoon, it became clear. It was the doing of the lecherous tailors.

Belle wore a long, loose tunic of rich blue that made her look like a wildfire at midnight. The neckline sank down deep between her breasts, and would have been deeper if not for a flimsy cord woven from side to side into more flesh exposing gaps. Her golden and silvery charms hung there, pointing their misshapen hands down to the obvious cleavage between the pale swell of her bosom. She was an instant and welcome distraction with a smile on her face.

“How are you today, Commander?” she asked, rounding his desk and perching her backside on a little spot he’d begun to leave empty just for that purpose.

“I’m alright. I have a bit of a headache, but I am otherwise well.” Cullen did his best to look past her breasts and at her face. He failed for about two seconds.

“How could you not have a headache, sitting here in the fucking dark and reading people’s gross handwriting all goddamn day?” Her fingertips shuffled a small stack of paper in idle little circles. “You need to knock out one of these walls and let some light in. Get a big, pretty window.” A wistful sigh emanated from her nose. He wanted to slide his hand up her thigh and under her tunic and make her sigh again.

“Perhaps,” he said, “though I would feel less secure in leaving requisitions and reports out while I was away.”

Belle laughed her easy laugh, throwing her head back and exposing the curve of her throat and those pointed canines. “Because some asshole is just going to dangle themselves six thousand feet above the ground to see that we need more iron?” Her nose crinkled and her eyes closed, and she laughed again.

She made Cullen laugh in answer. “People have tried more daring things for less important information than that, Belle.”

“Well, what you call daring, I call fucking stupid.” She patted him on his plated shoulder as she stood. A silent panic fell over him when he realized she was leaving. His heart began to pound. His stomach went cold. His thighs ached with the adrenaline rush that demanded action. She paused beside him, stopping the heart she made beat for her. “Hey, how—Um—How did you…”

“How did I what?” He struggled not to sound too eager or too afraid or too disinterested.

“Nevermind. It’s nothing. I just came by to check in on you,” she said, walking back to the other side of his desk. “You should take care of that headache. Take a nap or something. I’ll see you tonight for the homecoming.” She waved over her shoulder as she walked away, the sway of her hips leaving him enthralled and crestfallen in equal measure. What had she wanted to ask him?

He did see her that night at the homecoming, as she’d become so fond of calling it. Belle stood between him and Josephine, who stood beside Leliana on the landing of the main stairway. He could have sworn he smelled the fruit and lily scent of Belle’s hair, a scent to which he had become addicted since they began training together. He had inhaled it over and over under the guise of exertion. His new intoxicant.

Belle hugged her brother tight. Then, as was her way, she moved on to hug Max. She said her soft words to the two of them before greeting everyone else, as she always did. Cullen longed to know what she said to them. He pulled Spencer aside for a moment.

“What is it, Commander?”

“What does Belle say to you and the Inquisitor when you return to Skyhold?” Cullen knew the question was reckless. It was made more reckless by asking it to Belle’s one confidant.

But Spencer smiled—such a different smile than his sister’s. “She always says, ‘Thank God my boys are home with me in one piece.’”

“Thank you Dolan,” said Cullen. “I appreciate your candor.”

“Anytime, Commander.” With that, Spencer walked off toward the barracks to bathe and eat, but not before patting Cullen on the back as he passed. It was a confounding gesture that bordered on impropriety and insubordination. It also provided a strange sort of comfort.

“Thank God my boys are home with me in one piece.” It was such a small thing, yet it was immense and warm and lovely. Belle loved her brother with her whole heart, and she had extended that love to Max. To her, the Inquisitor was family. She was unhesitant and unrepentant with her love such that she spread it about her with open arms and wide smiles.

To Cullen’s surprise, Belle hugged him before he left with the others two days later. She squeezed her brother and said something in his ear. Then she squeezed Max and said something in his ear. When she came to Cullen, he was certain she would pat him on the arm or keep a respectful distance between them while she said her polite farewells. But she stood up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. He cursed his armor for keeping the feeling of her chin off his shoulder. He cursed his mantle for keeping the feeling of her breath off his neck. He cursed his gloves for keeping the feeling of the ends of her hair off his fingertips as he held her to him, full of trepidation and awe.

She was substantial in his arms. No wisp or waif of a woman, she felt full and whole and warm and real. There was a kind of softness to her that made him want to squeeze her closer, to wrap her up in his body. The hourglass that time and nature had made of her figure would have made it easy.

“Be safe,” said Belle into his ear.

“I will try,” said Cullen into her hair.

She dropped onto her heels once more, though she held his head in her hands. It was a gesture of intimacy and familiarity he had known only twice before. She smiled that crooked smile of hers, the left side rising more than the right. She said, “Do or do not, there is no try,” and puffed out a short laugh, her ocean and bronze eyes still locked on his gaze.

He tried to smile back, and he thought perhaps he did. He was terrified. She terrified him in a way that was foreign and incomprehensible to him. He had never been so afraid not to return home from battle. He was pledged to the Templars at thirteen, and had been instructed to be brave and courageous in the face of fear and death. He had cowered before, and felt fear and mistrust before, and he had acted in self-defense and with reckless disregard for the lives and souls of those he perceived as threats before. He had never, in all his life, been afraid of not coming home.

But he had never had anything to which he must return. Or anyone. Perhaps she was not his to return to, but his mind screamed that he must. He must come home to her.

He would come home to her.

*****

The Shrine of Dumat was a far and horrible place surrounded by sand and the stench of old death. Cullen heard and felt the red lyrium from miles away, and it filled him with dread. There had to be a mountain of it to hear it from such a distance. He was dizzy and sweating and nauseated before they reached the front gate. Max ordered his personal guard to stay out of the Shrine and keep watch, and seemed to take silent note of Cullen’s condition before opening the large gate.

Once inside, they saw the mountain of red lyrium he’d feared would be there. It sprang up from the stone and the earth in jutting crags that glowed and boiled the air within the walls. It also sprang up from the flesh and armor of the Red Templars lying in wait for the Inquisitor’s arrival. Cullen fought against them among some of the most skilled warriors he’d ever had the privilege to know. Sera was raucous and boisterous, and her arrows hummed and whistled through the air before striking their death-dealing blows. Dorian and Max used fire and lighting to disintegrate the Red Templars, leaving small piles of smoldering ash with each graceful swing of their staves. Iron Bull bowled through enemies, shattering bone and red lyrium with his body and his war hammer.

The blood of one of the Red Templars splashed on Cullen’s neck during the fight. It seared his flesh and stopped his breath and made him vomit on the stone ground. He maintained only enough wherewithal to wipe the tainted blood off with a discarded rag before it burned into his windpipe. His skin blistered but did not break. This did not happen to anyone else when the blood touched them.

Inside the Shrine proper, not one breath of air was safe from the fire that had been set or from the sound and scent and sting of the blighted lyrium. It was no more a song than a cacophony of screams was a song, and it shrieked and clawed at him to succumb. He could barely hear the sound of Maddox’s dying voice telling him that Samson had fled, that the Red Templars had stayed behind and died so their corrupted leader could escape. The din of the lyrium in Cullen’s addled mind only served to enhance his confusion at the loyalty of Samson’s men. They followed him and died for him so he could help to destroy the world.

Cullen recalled the last time he had followed someone with such blind faith and obedience. He vomited again.

Bull slung Maddox’s lifeless corpse—that was all he was now, a corpse—over his shoulder and hauled him out of the burning building. Cullen’s guilt, the burn on his neck, and the screeching song of the red lyrium made it difficult for him to see or think or breathe as they left. They fled the collapsing Shrine with naught but the corpse that was once a tranquil that was once a man in love and a handful of tools. No Samson. Only death and destruction. Nothing new for Cullen.

He vomited three more times over the next few days as they traveled back to Skyhold. He could still hear that twisted song ringing, ringing, ringing in his ears and parching his throat. He could scarcely eat for the tune in his head. Dorian, Sera, Bull, Max, and even Spencer took turns asking after him and bringing him snacks. He did what he always did and told them he was fine and turned them away.

He was not fine. He was spun up and tired and he ached. He ached in every way a man can ache. His mind and body and heart and soul were sore and wanting. He could not wait any longer to return to Skyhold—to return to Belle.

*****

Belle took Cullen up in an embrace again when their group returned several evenings later. She hugged her brother. She hugged Max. She hugged Cullen. “Thank God my boys are home with me in one piece,” she said to the three of them. She had included Cullen in her deific and divine gratitude, and his heart swelled up in his chest. It was almost enough to alleviate the nausea and the still-searing pain in his neck.

She tilted his head to the side before she went on to embrace Dorian, Sera, and Bull. She examined the mark on his neck with a critical gaze. “Is this a chemical burn?” she asked. “How did this happen?”

“Blood from one of the Red Templars,” said Cullen. “I did not know it could happen, and I was careless.”

She clicked her tongue in three little tsks and smirked at him. “You can’t be careless when you have no fucking clue how to be careful.” She shook her head and dropped her gaze a bit, smiling to herself. Maker, but she was beautiful. “Promise me you’ll have Eudora look at that after you change your clothes.”

“After I change?”

Her teeth peeked out from between her dusky lips. “You’re still covered in blood, and you stink. Change your clothes, have a bath—but be careful of that—” She pointed to his neck. “—and then go see Eudora. I’ll let her know to expect you.”

Cullen felt a smirk creep up his lips. “I did not know I’d relinquished my power to give orders here.”

“You didn’t. I just borrowed it for a sec. You can have it back after you go see Eudora. I’m keeping it until then.”

“Alright.”

“Well? Go on, then! Chop, chop! Scoot!” Belle shooed him away by flailing her arms in the direction of his quarters.

She was right. His mantle and breeches reeked of blood and filth, and he reeked as a result of wearing them for days. He divested himself of this rancid clothes and donned a new pair of breeches and a soft tunic. He did his best to hurry down to the laundry to give them his soiled garments before he had a chance to impart his stench on the clothes he was wearing, then rushed to the baths.

She was also right about the bath. The warm water helped to soothe his aching muscles and wash away the grit, visible and invisible. It was a catharsis of a kind to cleanse himself, body and soul. He lingered in the water, which was unlike him, but he needed the time to think. He needed to think about the Inquisition, about Maddox and Samson, about Knight-Commander Meredith, and about the man he had become. He thought about the man he hoped to be and the man he must be. He thought about the man his family believed him to be and the man he wanted them to know. He thought about the man Belle saw when she looked at him. He wondered whether she saw a friend or a foe, a brother or a brother in arms, family or a lover.

It did him no good to think on such things. For the moment, he was the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces. It was all the man he was meant to be until Corypheus was dead. He told himself this over and over as he dried and dressed, and continued to recite it as he walked down to the healers’ rooms to see Eudora.

She howled a bit when she saw the wound on his neck. “Whoo-oo, Commander! That is a nasty looking burn!” With her index and middle fingers, she tilted his head in a way that was just gentle enough to bely her no-nonsense demeanor. He liked her for that. She had a crassness about her that was comfortable and homey. “How’d you come by this, then?”

“It happened when I was struck by blood with red lyrium in it. Belle called it a ‘chemical burn.’”

Eudora scoffed and rolled her eyes. “That girl. Thinks she knows everything, that one. But she’s daft where it counts. I’ve a salve that should fix this right as rain in two or three days, since I know you hate when I use magic on you. And drink this down for the lyrium nausea.” She passed him a little vial of purple liquid.

Cullen shot the healer a suspicious look as he drank down the vial’s foul contents and as she turned to take a jar that was filled with a rather disgusting green ooze off the shelf. “What you mean ‘she’s daft where it counts?’”

She snorted, handing him the grotesque jar. “Fool girl can’t even see you’re arse over eyeballs blind in love with her.”

He froze where he stood. Caught. His jaw set itself in a hard line, and he glared at her. “What?”

Eudora’s expression shifted from just amused to amused and sly. “Don’t tell me you’re daft too, Commander. It doesn’t become your fine face and those bright eyes of yours.”

“I—She—I—” He could feel the heat suffuse over his cheeks and ears, drowning out any semblance of reason or human speech.

Eudora laughed her husky laugh, long and uninhibited. “You’re both up your own arses! Look, Commander, I have been around too long and seen too much to watch this foolishness of yours continue. We are in the middle of a war. Any and all of us could be blown to the Void at any moment. If you waste any more of the time either of you have, mark me, you’ll regret it for the rest of your days.”

Cullen was struck as dumb as the healer seemed to think him. “What is it that you suggest I do, then?”

“Andraste’s tits, man! Go to her and tell her! It’s well after suppertime, and I’m sure someone as in love with her as you so obviously are would know exactly where she’d be about now. So go there. Run to her, and tell her everything.”

He was still stunned and still frozen. His body warred with his heart and his mind, and his legs refused to move as a result. “I—”

“Go!” Eudora flung her arms out at him. When he did not move, she did it again. “Get out of here and go!”

Cullen wanted to say something before he turned and left, but a “thank you” seemed both insufficient and unwarranted. “Alright” would have been pointless. “Yes, ser” was wildly inappropriate. So he just left without another word.

He sprinted up the nearest staircase to the battlements, charging through the doors of every unoccupied room on the way back to his tower. Belle would be in her quarters at this time of night. She never stayed out long past the first hour after supper. Maker’s breath, Eudora had been right. He did know where Belle would be. As he barged through one door of his tower and set down his jar of green ooze, he hoped the healer had also been right about this course of action.

He would run to her. He would run to her and give her his heart and let her do what she pleased with it. Anything was preferable to ignorance. He passed through the door opposite the one he’d entered, keeping Belle’s tower in his unblinking sight. If she scorned him, he could banish her from his thoughts. If she embraced him, he would bask in the warmth of her affections. His heartbeat outpaced his footsteps two-fold. This was terrifying. This was utterly terrifying. He had faced down blood mages and apostates and Red Templars and Archdemons for Andraste’s sake, and this was more terrifying than all of them combined.

Cullen stopped in front of the thick wooden door that stood between him and the woman with whom he was arse over eyeballs blind in love, as their friend had so uniquely phrased it. His momentum rocked him back and forth from his toes to his heels, and he paused there. A final wave of terror washed over him, making his every breath shallow and weak and setting his hands to trembling at his sides. He commanded the largest standing army in Thedas, and he was crumbling outside the door of just one astonishing woman. When his nerves had released him enough, he did something he never did.

He knocked.

*****

#cullen #cullen rutherford #commander cullen #cullen x belle #belle dolan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #fanfic #mgit #modern girl in thedas #self indulgence au #htwwain

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