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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

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Come What May

Request: hey! can i get a request for an american transfer (i’m not sure if they were even a thing lol but anyways) and she is a hufflepuff? maybe she becomes friends with remus due to him being a prefect and sirius ends up really liking her? if you want to change it up a little bit for your writing that’s perfectly fine! xx

A/N: I loved writing this - it took me some time to start, but I loved writing it. I hope you like it and I hope I’ve done it justice. I’ve no clue whether I’ve made the reader American enough but I still hope its good nonetheless. Moulin Rouge is one of my favourite musicals; the title is the name of the song. Enjoy!! :)

Pairing: Sirius Black x American!Transfer!Reader

Warnings: fluff, mentions of pregnancy, I wanna say swearing but I can't remember, mentions of nausea, mentions of anxiety, mentions of homesickness

Word count: 3.3k

In an attempt to improve relations between the wizarding worlds of the United States of America and the United Kingdom, MACUSA and the Ministry of Magic set up a transfer scheme for sixth years of Ilvermorny and Hogwarts. The entirety of their sixth year would be spent abroad where they would gain the worthwhile experience of receiving an education in a different country.

Some pressure from your mother had you applying to spend a year at Hogwarts. Only ten students from the year group were given the opportunity – when it was offered to you, you took it with both hands. A year abroad would look good on your final transcript when applying to train as a Healer.

Upon arriving at Hogwarts, you were swiftly sorted into Hufflepuff; a kind, gentle house that made you feel welcome. Their proximity to the school kitchens would help with reducing the stress for exam season, you thought.

Your first week was plagued with intense homesickness. The Scottish Highlands were hauntingly beautiful, but they were nothing compared to your surroundings at Ilvermorny. You longed for the familiar sight of the familiar Mount Greylock. You missed your family, but your mother’s letters would still find you at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall had assured you of that.

Your classes were hard to navigate. Hogwarts was bigger than Ilvermorny and you found yourself running from one side of the castle to the other in an attempt to get to lessons on time.

“Hi, are you okay?” A male voice asks. You turn to find lanky teenager with scars littering his face looking at you in concern. A prefect badge on the collar of his robes had you relaxing; here was someone that could help you.

“Hey!” You shout, eagerly, happy to see a friendlier face, “I’m lost. I’m trying to find Divination.”

He smiles at you, “You’re in luck, I’m heading to Divination as well.”

“That’s great, I’ll follow your lead. I’ve been here three weeks; you’d have thought I’d have the layout down by now.”

He chuckles, “I’m Remus, by the way.”

You hold a hand out to him, he shakes it once, “I’m (Y/N). I’m part of the transfer scheme between Ilvermorny and Hogwarts.”

Remus sits beside you in Divination; helping you when you struggled with understanding the teacher’s accent. Divination was taught at Ilvermorny, and along with Herbology and Potions, was one of the subjects you excelled at. Your four times great grandmother on your father’s side was a prophetess who barely escaped the witch trials in Salem; her talents had been passed down to you.

The lesson is over fairly quickly with Remus by your side, helping to translate the Professor’s words. You’re packing your books up, hoping your usually spot in the library isn’t taken when Remus asks: “(Y/N), would you like to join me for lunch? You’ll have to meet my friends, but they’re mainly harmless.”

“Mainly?”

Remus flashed you a grin, “They’ll talk your ear off, but they mean well.”

“In that case, I’d love to join you for lunch. I’d be spending it in alone in the library, so this is a definite upgrade. Lead the way.”

On the walk to the Great Hall, you and Remus bond more and you can feel the start of a genuine friendship beginning to be built.

By the time you arrive at the Great Hall, you have decided that Remus is in fact a sweetheart with a heart of gold who loves his books as much as he loves his friends. From your limited knowledge of Hogwarts houses, you can see exactly how Remus meets the standards to be a Gryffindor.

Remus automatically heads to the table assigned to Gryffindor, spotting his friends in the crowd. You only hesitate for a moment before joining him.

“(Y/N), these are James, Peter and Sirius.” Remus introduces, pointing to each teenage boy with their name. They look at you with fascination as you take a seat next to Remus, who hands you the pitcher of water without a second thought. Yes, your friendship with Remus would be something you truly treasure with all of your heart.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” You greet, not missing how their eyes widen at your accent.

“Are you one of the American exchange students?” Peter asks.

You nod, smiling at him, “I am.”

If it’s possible, his eyes widen further, “You must be really smart then. Like super smart to get into the programme. The one’s we got in Gryffindor are like geniuses.”

“Thank you, that’s a very nice compliment.”

Peter blushes, breaking the eye contact between you two.

You start placing food onto your plate, eating a forkful in between answering questions.

“My turn now – how did you all become friends?”

James grins, “We all met on train and became friends. It seemed fate was on our side when we were all sorted into the same house.”

You look at the ties each worn by the teenagers; stripes of solid red stand out against dark black. “You’re all in Gryffindor!”

James nods, “We are! And our ever-lovely Remus is our prefect.”

You smile when you see Remus out of the corner of your eye, sitting a little straighter at the sound of his school role.

Sirius catches your eye, a smirk turning the one corner of his lips upwards, “What house were you sorted into?”

You point to your tie, not missing the way his eyes rake up and down your body, “Hufflepuff,” you state proudly, feeling very at home with your Hogwarts house.

“What’s your house at Ilvermorny?” He asks, pronouncing each syllable of your school separately, testing out the sound of it on his tongue.

“Pukwudgie.” You declare, prouder than ever of your house back in America. Those sorted into Pukwudgie are defined by their passions and their desires; they commit themselves fully to everything they do whilst being fiercely loyal caregivers and protectors.

Sirius’ lips tremble; he wants to chuckle at the odd sounding name. You don’t miss the expression on his face, rolling your eyes at it.

“We have four houses at Ilvermorny: Pukwudgie, Wampus, Horned Serpent, and Thunderbird. It is said that my house, Pukwudgie, favours healers which makes sense since that is what I’m working towards. I want to work at the hospital for magical folk in New York City. The other houses favour different positions; Wampus – warriors, Horned Serpent – scholars, and Thunderbird – adventurers. Truthfully, we aren’t that different to Hogwarts expect for the fact that we’re in America. The Hogwarts students over there are probably realising the same thing. ”

The four boys look at you in astonishment, and you realise that since you arrived in Scotland, those were the most words you had spoken in succession.

“Well,” You say, grinning, taking a sip of your water, “we aren’t entirely different other than the fact that we’re better

James squawks in indignation, “How? I think you’re mistaken. I’m going to need a point by point explanation of how that is even possible. Hogwarts is the best school out there!”

You laugh at him, “Hogwash. Are you ready for that conversation, James?”

Sirius grins, showing off his perfectly straight, white teeth, “Oh, I like you. I think we’re going to get on like a house on fire.”

With your heart racing, your answering smile is blinding.

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The Marauders adopt you as an honorary member; Peter had dubbed you the emissary to Ilvermorny with a promise to tell your tales of your time at Hogwarts to the student body of the school; to make them famous ‘across the pond’.

The more time you spent with the pranksters, the more you saw them as themselves. James and Sirius were ridiculously smart but played aloof – happier to marked as the class clowns than the smartest in the class (though they were by miles). James was besotted with a red-haired girl named Lily who never seemed to want to give him the time of day, but he persisted.

Peter had the best stories from his childhood, and he was more than happier to tell you them. But there was something simmering under the surface with Peter, as if he was too close to the flame of something he couldn’t quite pull back from. You hoped he would before it was too late.

Remus confessed to you a month into your friendship, of his lycanthropy – he trusted you, he knew you wouldn’t spread his secret and you wouldn’t. You could see his self-hatred always simmering, but Remus was so pure of heart with a predisposition for trouble that made him a natural leader when planning the school-wide famous pranks, that you knew he would not let the wolf inside him control him for longer than was necessary.

The friendship you had created with all four of them was something you would cherish upon returning to Ilvermorny. In such little time, they had taken you in and made you feel at home within their group.

Out of all them, you felt drawn to Sirius and he was more than happy to entertain you. He found you fascinating as well as extremely beautiful. There was something about your eyes that he couldn’t put his finger on, but they had him from the very moment they fell on him in the Great hall. He could sit and listen to you for hours whether it be a story or a rant. He was more than happy to let you talk and for him to listen. You had bewitched him; mind, body and soul. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth.

It was this that made you fall in love with him.

As cliché as it is to describe, your feelings for Sirius took you by surprise. In a matter of few weeks, you had started to fall in love with the shaggy-haired prankster. He had captured your heart in a way you never thought possible; you found it hard to think of anything but him. Your heart raced with every bit of eye contact made across the classroom; as if you were the only one in his line of vision.

Sirius had a way to make you feel as if you were the only one in the world; he would listen to your rants over the differing education systems between the USA and the UK or if someone had gotten on your nerves. He would defend you if ever a cross word was even uttered in your direction; Severus Snape had been on the receiving end of most of Sirius’ hexes. Sirius had you completely enthralled.

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You spend weeks agonising over your feelings for the Gryffindor; badgering Remus at every opportunity until he cracks and tells you that Sirius feels the same but doesn’t know how to approach you.

You decide then and there that you’re going to tell him; that you’re going to confess your feelings for him. As you rush to the library, you steel yourself in case of rejection. It would break your heart, but you would find a way to repair the friendship.

You find Sirius in an isolated corner of the library, pouring over one of the many leather bounded books. The library had taken your breath away when you first arrived; never in your life had you seen so many ancient and dusty tomes dedicated to the practice of witchcraft and wizardry. Now, your eyes are drawn to the teenager hidden among them.

Sirius is sitting in one of the few arm chairs. You don’t sit down; the anxiety and adrenaline preparing your legs for a quick exit if needed.

“Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” You ask.

Sirius looks up from his book, wide-eyed, “What?”

“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? I know it’s a free weekend for the both of us and I’d like to go with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I like you, Sirius and I think you’ve known for a while that I do.”

Sirius can’t help the blush that rushes to his cheeks, “I know of your feelings.”

“I need to know: are they returned or am I overstepping here?”

Sirius places his book on the table, “No, no, you’re not overstepping. I’ve had a crush on your for a while.”

Your grin lights up your face and Sirius find himself making the promise of to always be the cause of your smiles and never your tears.

“So would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me?”

“As long as you let me pay; it would be shame on my name for me to let such a beautiful person pay for their date.”

“You are a gentleman. So you will come?”

“Yes, we’ll go to Hogsmeade on a date this weekend. I adore your confidence.”

“I’m American,” You state, shrugging your shoulders, “We’re born with it.”

Sirius barks a laugh as he pulls you into his lap, his hands on your waist. You press not one, but two kisses to his cheek where the blush still remains, savouring he fact that it was you who affects him so, and no-one else.

Sirius relaxes beneath you; happy to have you in his arms for however long you have left at Hogwarts.

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In the muted light of the moon reflecting into his dorm room, you can be honest with each other. Your time at the school for witchcraft and wizardry was coming to a close with little under a month before you were returning to Ilvermorny to complete your final year of education.

You didn’t try to ignore the lance of pain spearing your heart as you imagine that year without Sirius. A little over four months with him and you knew that you have found the love of your life; that there would be no-one else for you.

“I don’t want to leave you,” You whisper in the dark of the night, curled under his arm, your hand pressed to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat under your palm.

“I don’t want you to go.” He whispers against your hair.

Tears sting the corner of your eyes, “What are we going to do?”

“For now, I’m going to sleep next to the girl I love. Tomorrow, we are going to talk about it, I promise. I just want to hold you now.”

“Tomorrow,” You promise, “Tonight, I just want to be held by you.”

Sirius pulls you tighter to him; as if the two of you aren’t already pressed together. He drops another kiss to your head while you press one to his shoulder. You aren’t sure whether of you get a lot of sleep that night; worries of the future working their way down the familiar path of your mind.

The following morning brings lingering touches and unhurried kisses. The anxiety from last night hangs like a dark cloud over the both of you but there is a determination within you to hurry it away.

The day is spent slowly; slowly walking around the grounds, slowly reading in the common room, slowly kissing. As if the slower your pace, the longer you can spend in his arms where you truly want to be.

The topic needs to be approached; it needs to be addressed or else it’ll sour the remaining time you have left with the boy you’ve fallen in love with.

Laying on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, your head in Sirius’ lap, you ask, “What are your plans for the summer?”

He sighs, pretending to think it through as he brushes a hand from the top of your forehead to the tip of your nose, “I’m not sure, I think I’m going to be visiting this really pretty girl that I’ve fallen in love with.”

You beam, “Yes please. Come stay with me! My family is going to love you.”

Sirius’ cheeks warm, “Really?”

You nod, “Definitely, I’ve already told them all about you in my letters. My mom is going to love you. My dad is going to take some persuading though. I think the whole family won’t be able to leave you alone. I go to Scotland and come back with a boyfriend.”

Sirius laughs, warm and rich, “I’ll have to bring my charming self.”

“You do that, and you won’t get to leave.”

“Maybe that’s the plan. I think we can do it, you know.”

“Can do what?”

“A long-distance relationship. I think we can do it; I think we’re strong enough.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I know we haven’t been together very long but I’m in this for the long-haul. I want no-one else but you; I love no-one else but you. In such a short time, you’ve shown me what a relationship should be like and I want it. I want it all with you. So I think we’re strong enough to get through it. We can send letters and on the longer holidays, we can alternate between America and the UK.”

“You’ve really thought this through.”

Sirius nods, nudging you to sit up. “I have. I thought of it last night, I don’t know how neither of us thought of it earlier.”

You think it through, seeing no disadvantages to his plan other than the fact that you would miss him dearly. “I like it. Let’s do it, let’s do long-distance. I love you too, I want no-one else either. I hope you’re ready for all of my letters, Black.”

He laughs; the sound music to your ears, “More than ready.”

You can’t help the smile as you lean into kiss him.

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7 years later:

The house is quiet; too quiet, you think as you push your feet into your slippers. You make your way downstairs to be greeted to the sight of your husband of five years cooking with your four year old daughter.

“I think we’ve been caught, sweetheart.” Sirius whispers to the toddler sitting on the kitchen counter.

Your daughter turns from her place, “We’re making pancakes!”

“I can see that,” You say, chuckling, making your way to your husband – kissing him before kissing your daughter on the top of her head.

“We wanted to give you a bit longer in bed. I know you were up most of the night feeling sick.” Sirius says, a hand touching the barely-there bump.

“You’re my knight in shining armour, Mr. Black”

“Always at your service, Mrs. Black.”

Your final year at Ilvermorny was filled with letter upon letter from Sirius telling you the stories of his final year at Hogwarts. You were very happy indeed when he reported that James and Lily had finally started to see each other, and that Remus was thinking of going steady with a girl in Ravenclaw who loved books as much as he did.

The long-distance relationship was hard at times; always after a visit from one of you to the other but nevertheless, you both persevered – worries always extinguished over written word. Your family understood that your home was now in England; in the arms of a black-haired prankster that had captivated your heart from the very first smile. Your dream of being a healer was still very much attainable in England.

You and Sirius were not long behind James and Lily for marriage. Sirius had proposed one evening after you returned home from your shift at St Mungo’s; bone tired and in the need of a hug, you were shocked to return home to rose petals leading to the living room where Sirius was down on one knee – the only light in the room being from the candles lit on every surface available. You both cried when you accepted; you both cried at the wedding a year later.

You didn’t think there would be any more room in your heart to love someone else other than Sirius.

Then you found out you were pregnant. And your heart made room for one more. Your heart had stretched to fit three when your test came back positive for the baby currently growing in your womb.

As you sit in your kitchen, watching your husband cutting up pancakes for your daughter, you feel overwhelmingly grateful for your mother pushing you to fill out the transfer paperwork all those years ago.

*******

Harry Potter (General) taglist: @slytherinprincess03 @bforbroadway @obsessedwithrandomthings @the-hufflefluffwriter @masterofthedarkness @kalimagik @summer-writes @lupins-sweater @mischiefsemimanaged @soleil-amaryllis

Sirius Black taglist: @cheapglitter @fific7

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scarletarosa · 4 years ago

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The Passage into the Afterlife

Throughout history, the thought of what happens to someone after death has long fascinated and terrified the human race. One may be surprised to discover that every story holds some truth to it. The following documentation has been long researched by myself through both astral traveling and through communicating with Minos, one of the three Judges of the Underworld. This is not intended to force beliefs, but to prepare those who are open on this subject for what lies ahead.

The Ka and Ba

Before getting into what occurs after death, one must understand the difference between the Ka (spirit) and Ba (higher self/soul). This is a concept that can be read about further in Ancient Egyptian belief. Basically, the Ba is the higher self who is immortal and dwells in the realms of spirit. When the Ba chooses to incarnate onto a planet, they choose an “unborn spirit” to embody. These two entities then come together in the womb, and then the Ba closes their eyes, awaiting the time when their human will mature and seek higher knowledge (if they ever do).

If the Ba is fortunate, their human will begin seeking true knowledge of the spirit realms and of higher selves, causing the Ba to awaken and begin guiding the human they dwell within. So we as we are right now, are all Ka; our Ba (higher selves) dwell within us. Most humans have a higher self who is also human, but some have higher selves who might be angelic, demonic, draconic, elven, fae, etc.

The Moment of Death

When we die, we separate from this body and emerge on the spirit plane of Earth. This is temporary, for Earth is the transitioning place before we move on. During this period, there are several things that can happen: if we chose to be cremated, we immediately disconnect from our bodies, but if buried, we remain stuck next to our body for a period of time, depending on how long it takes for the connection to be lost. In a case where one commits suicide, the afterlife is not pleasant, and the Judges seek to punish the human for abandoning their purpose and will delete them from existence. For the humans who died a horrific death, they typically refuse to move on, causing them to become wraiths (hauntings). This action causes the Ka to be permanently separated from their Ba, eventually causing the Ka to go insane and then become a poltergeist.

Voyage to the Underworld

In most cases, the Ka emerges from their body and spends around three days (at least) wandering places on Earth that are familiar to them, as they will be restricted from going anywhere else. Most of the time, people do not realize that they have died. After these days, a psychopomp will arrive to collect the Ka and bring them to the Underworld. The Underworlds in every religion (not including Hell) are all the same place, but include many different kingdoms across the vast land. Once arriving in the Underworld, the Ka will wait to be seen at the Gaunt Palace, where they will confess their corrupt actions to the three Judges in front of a large council, then the council will discuss what fate they should have. The Judge, Minos, will have the final say. Once this is done, the three Judges will direct the Ka to be sent to a specific kingdom of the Underworld depending on what the persons’ beliefs were while alive. So while some may be approached by Hades, others might instead face Anubis and Osiris, or Hel, or Ereshkigal, etc. People who were Monotheists, however, will just arrive in a place similar to the gloom of the traditional Greek Underworld (Hades).

Once the Ka meets with their specific Underworld god, the deity will then give that spirit trials to undergo within their designated level of the Underworld (there are three main levels, but seven in total). The first layer is for people who were good-natured and healed from most of their traumas. The second is for more unmoral people or just those with negative attachments who underwent only some healing while alive, and the third is for people who have very strong attachments due to suffering and didn’t get the chance to heal. The first layer will seek to teach lessons in lesser tormenting ways in order to get the spirits there to understand the things they did wrong and to not do them again, as well as to sever their remaining attachments. The third layer, however, is full of tortures that will force the people strongly attached to their suffering to realize the illusion of their ways and that they can go free if they fight for it. There trials are meant for Rebirth, not always punishment.

The longer it takes for the Ka to fully understand their wrong-doings and their sufferings, the longer they will have to remain in the Underworld. If the spirit is exceptionally evil, however, the Judges will call upon the goddess Ammit. Ammit will then open her enormous jaws and devour the corrupt spirit, sending them to the realm of Hell, where one of the three High Kings (Lucifer, Satan, Leviathan) will decide what is done with them. Once in Hell, the spirit is usually tormented for eternity. So basically, the Underworld is meant to bring about a Rebirth; Hell is meant to punish.

The Shadow Self

While alive, we all experience traumas and negative circumstances. All of the emotions that arose from these things began to develop into an entity called “The Shadow”, which represents the darker half of us. Each person’s Shadow is different, depending on their negative experiences and how they reacted to them. I will get into the different types of Shadows in an additional post, but for now, it is good to analyze your own behaviours that are toxic, since these arise from the Shadow Self. Giving into negative behaviours empowers the Shadow.

When we die, the death of our brain causes the Shadow Self to become more than just a psychological counterpart, and they are now more free. They take on a terrifying form and seek to tear us apart. We all end up facing our Shadows while in the Underworld, and if we are not prepared, they will attack us repeatedly and cause our stay there to be greatly prolonged. In order to prevent this, we need to do shadow work in this life so we can understand our negative traits through in-depth analyzations . Look at your greatest burdens, how you view yourself and others, your self-destructive habits, your negative feelings- all of these come from the Shadow. We must understand this part of ourselves in order to understand how to mend them and eventually, overpower our Shadow Self. We will have to do this in the Underworld, otherwise, one will need to be able to hold it off long enough until the Judgment is over, which is when the Shadow will be destroyed.

Elysium

After a Ka successfully makes it through the trials of the Underworld, they are brought to Elysium, which is a realm of Paradise where we rest and wait for our Ba to come retrieve us. Most spirits will remain together in Elysium for a year, but if the spirit achieved Awakening (realization of their higher self’s identity) while still alive, they will be able to leave sooner. When the higher self arrives, they will approach the Ka and absorb them into themself, and then will return home. Thus, the Ba and Ka are united and the lifetime is completed.

If the higher self is a human, the Ba will have to reincarnate after a decade of being back in the spirit world, starting the process again with another unborn spirit (Ka) until they achieve Illumination. A human higher self will no longer need to reincarnate once Illumination is achieved by one of their embodiments. Other higher selves, such as those that are Higher beings than humans (demonic, angelic, draconic, etc.), will not have to reincarnate all the time; instead choosing to do so in order to help the world progress through their human.

Conclusion

Overall, it is extremely important to realize that our task in life is to achieve Awakening, which is done through seeking the identity of our higher self (Ba), bonding with our higher self through meditation and communication, and to seek true knowledge on the spirit world. We also must make certain to overcome our Shadows by keeping our actions and thoughts in check; thus allowing us to become the best we can be. If we manage to overcome our attachments, negative thinking, and toxic behaviours, we will have less trials to suffer through. All of these things will allow for a smooth transition through Death and to become one with our Ba.

The Underworld (in-depth description)

#the afterlife #death #spirit realms #ka #ba #higher selves #spirituality #the underworld

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ucflibrary · 3 years ago

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How do we define American history? Who decides what information is important to study and remember? Do we only look at the ‘good’ or lionize notable figures by placing them on pedestals and forgetting they were only human? Or do we do the hard work of studying primary sources and reading about all the facets of historic American figures? Do we learn about past mistakes and hidden horrors so we can prevent them from happening in the future?

As an academic library, UCF Libraries is committed to not only teaching our community how to do their own research and providing scholarly resources but to broadening our own horizons and looking critically at our national past. After all, America is us, the people who live, work, dream, hope and endure on these shores. It is shaped by our ideals and grows as her people do into the future we want for ourselves and future generations. The American dream is not static; it is what we want it to be.

The more informed and engaged we all are as citizens, the better our country becomes. To help with being informed, UCF Libraries has suggested 16 books on American History. Keep reading below to see the full list, descriptions, and catalog links for the featured titles on American History suggested by UCF Library employees.

For members of the Knight community looking for ways to get involved are many options available:

Volunteer in local communities. VolunteerUCF can help you connect with an organization.

Join a student group to make a difference here at UCF. The Office of Student Involvement has a list of almost 800 student organizations that can meet any interest.

Connect with your federal, state, and local representatives. You can let them know your opinions on pending legislation, volunteer, or even thank them if you think they’re doing a good job. Don’t know who your legislators are? Check out this list at USA.gov.

Most importantly, if you haven’t done so already, register to vote. If you have voted in previous elections, confirm you are still registered. Find details for how to register in your home state at Vote.gov.

A Crisis of Peace: George Washington, the Newburgh Conspiracy, and the fate of the American Revolution by David Head On March 15, 1783, General George Washington addressed a group of angry officers in an effort to rescue the American Revolution from mutiny at the highest level; the Newburgh Affair, a mysterious event in which Continental Army officers, disgruntled by a lack of pay and pensions, may have collaborated with nationalist-minded politicians such as Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and Robert Morris to pressure Congress and the states to approve new taxes and strengthen the central government. Fearing what his men might do with their passions inflamed, Washington averted the crisis, but with the nation's problems persisting, the officers ultimately left the army disappointed, their low opinion of their civilian countrymen confirmed. Head provides a fresh look at the end of the American Revolution while speaking to issues that concern us still: the fragility of civil-military relations, how even victorious wars end ambiguously, and what veterans and civilians owe each other. Suggested by Cindy Dancel, Research & Information Services

Craft: an American history by Glenn Adamson Adamson shows that craft has long been implicated in debates around equality, education, and class. Artisanship has often been a site of resistance for oppressed people, such as enslaved African-Americans whose skilled labor might confer hard-won agency under bondage, or the Native American makers who adapted traditional arts into statements of modernity. Theirs are among the array of memorable portraits of Americans both celebrated and unfamiliar in this richly peopled book. As Adamson argues, these artisans' stories speak to our collective striving toward a more perfect union. From the beginning, America had to be-and still remains to be-crafted. Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services

Fever, 1793 by Laurie Halse Anderson In 1793 Philadelphia, sixteen-year-old Matilda Cook, separated from her sick mother, learns about perseverance and self-reliance when she is forced to cope with the horrors of a yellow fever epidemic. Includes discussion questions and related activities. Suggested by Peggy Nuhn, Connect Libraries

Fire in the Lake: the Vietnamese and the Americans in Vietnam by Frances FitzGerald Originally published in 1972, this was the first history of Vietnam written by an American and won the Pulitzer Prize, the Bancroft Prize, and the National Book Award. With a clarity and insight unrivaled by any author before it or since, Frances FitzGerald illustrates how America utterly and tragically misinterpreted the realities of Vietnam. Suggested by Sophia Sahr, Student Learning & Engagement

Hard Times: an oral history of the Great Depression by Studs Terkel In this “invaluable record” of one of the most dramatic periods in modern American history, Studs Terkel recaptures the Great Depression of the 1930s in all its complexity. Featuring a mosaic of memories from politicians, businessmen, artists, striking workers, and Okies, from those who were just kids to those who remember losing a fortune, this work is not only a gold mine of information but a fascinating interplay of memory and fact, revealing how the 1929 stock market crash and its repercussions radically changed the lives of a generation.

Suggested by Sophia Sahr, Student Learning & Engagement

John Washington's Civil War: a slave narrative edited by Crandall Shifflett In 1872, just seven years after his emancipation, a thirty-four-year-old former slave named John Washington penned the story of his life, calling it "Memorys of the Past." One hundred and twenty years later, historian Crandall Shifflett stumbled upon Washington's forgotten manuscript at the Library of Congress. Shifflett presents this remarkable slave narrative in its entirety, with detailed annotations on the mundane and life-changing events that Washington witnessed and recorded. Suggested by Cindy Dancel, Research & Information Services

Katrina: a history, 1915-2015 by Andy Horowitz The Katrina disaster was not a weather event of summer 2005. It was a disaster a century in the making, a product of lessons learned from previous floods, corporate and government decision making, and the political economy of the United States at large. New Orleans's history is America's history, and Katrina represents America's possible future. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Research & Information Services

Killers of the Flower Moon: the Osage murders and the birth of the FBI by David Grann Presents a true account of the early twentieth-century murders of dozens of wealthy Osage and law-enforcement officials, citing the contributions and missteps of a fledgling FBI that eventually uncovered one of the most chilling conspiracies in American history. Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

Lies Across America: what our historic sites get wrong by James W. Loewen Loewen looks at more than one hundred sites where history is told on the landscape, including historical markers, monuments, outdoor museums, historic houses, forts, and ships. Loewen uses his investigation of these public versions of history, often literally written in stone, to correct historical interpretations that are profoundly wrong, to tell neglected but important stories about the American past, and, most importantly, to raise questions about what we as a nation choose to commemorate and how. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Research & Information Services

Never Caught: the Washingtons’ relentless pursuit of their runaway slave, Ona Judge by Erica Armstrong Dunbar When George and Martha Washington moved from their beloved Mount Vernon in Virginia to Philadelphia, then the seat of the nation's capital, they took nine enslaved people with them. Slavery, in Philadelphia at least, was looked down upon. There was even a law requiring slaveholders to free their slaves after six months. Yet George Washington thought he could outwit and circumvent the law by sending his slaves south every six months, thereby resetting the clock. Among the slaves to figure out this subterfuge was Ona Judge, Martha Washington's chief attendant. And, risking everything she knew, leaving behind everyone she loved and had known her entire life, she fled. Here, then, is the story not only of the powerful lure of freedom but also of George Washington's determination to recapture his property by whatever means necessary. Suggested by Cindy Dancel, Research & Information Services

Team of Rivals: the political genius of Abraham Lincoln by Doris Kearns Goodwin This multiple biography is centered on Lincoln's mastery of men and how it shaped the most significant presidency in the nation's history. Goodwin illuminates Lincoln's political genius, as the one-term congressman rises from obscurity to prevail over three gifted rivals to become president. When Lincoln emerged as the victor at the Republican National Convention, his rivals were dismayed. That Lincoln succeeded, Goodwin demonstrates, was because of his extraordinary ability to put himself in the place of other men, to experience what they were feeling, to understand their motives and desires. It was this that enabled Lincoln to bring his disgruntled opponents together, create the most unusual cabinet in history, and marshal their talents to the task of preserving the Union. Suggested by Peggy Nuhn, Connect Libraries

The 5th Little Girl: soul survivor of the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing (the Sarah Collins Rudolph story) by Tracy Snipe (in conversation with Sarah Collins Rudolph) Once described by the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. as "one of the most tragic and vicious crimes ever perpetrated against humanity," the bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Alabama, instantly killed Addie Mae Collins, Carol Denise McNair, Carole Rosamond Robinson, and Cynthia Dionne Morris Wesley on September 15, 1963. This egregious act of domestic terrorism reverberated worldwide. Orchestrated by white supremacists, the blast left twelve-year-old Sarah Collins temporarily blind. In this intimate first-hand account, Sarah imparts her views on topics such as the 50th year commemoration, restitution, and racial terrorism. In the backdrop of a national reckoning and global protests, underscored by the deadly violence at Mother Emanuel in Charleston, SC, and tragedies in Charlottesville, VA, and Pittsburgh, PA, Sarah's unflinching testimony about the '63 Birmingham church bombing is illuminating. Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services

The Black Church: this is our story, this is our song by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. For the young Henry Louis Gates, Jr., growing up in a small, residentially segregated West Virginia town, the church was a center of gravity--an intimate place where voices rose up in song and neighbors gathered to celebrate life's blessings and offer comfort amid its trials and tribulations. In this tender and expansive reckoning with the meaning of the Black Church in America, Gates takes us on a journey spanning more than five centuries, from the intersection of Christianity and the transatlantic slave trade to today's political landscape. Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services

The Other Slavery: the uncovered story of Indian enslavement in America by Andres Resendez Since the time of Columbus, Indian slavery was illegal in much of the American continent. Yet Reséndez shows it was practiced for centuries as an open secret: there was no abolitionist movement to protect the tens of thousands of natives who were kidnapped and enslaved by the conquistadors, forced to work in the silver mines, or made to serve as domestics for Mormon settlers and rich Anglos. New evidence sheds light too on Indian enslavement of other Indians as Reséndez reveals nothing less than a key missing piece of American history. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Research & Information Services

These Truths: a history of the United States by Jill Lepore In the most ambitious one-volume American history in decades, Lepore offers a magisterial account of the origins and rise of a divided nation, an urgently needed reckoning with the beauty and tragedy of American history. Written in elegiac prose, Lepore's groundbreaking investigation places truth itself--a devotion to facts, proof, and evidence--at the center of the nation's history. The American experiment rests on three ideas--'these truths, ' Jefferson called them--political equality, natural rights, and the sovereignty of the people. And it rests, too, on a fearless dedication to inquiry, Lepore argues, because self-government depends on it. But has the nation, and democracy itself, delivered on that promise? Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

Witnessing America: the Library of Congress book of firsthand accounts of life in America, 1600-1900 edited by Noel Rae Presents a portrait of America's social and cultural history between 1600 and 1900, told through letters, diaries, memoirs, tracts, and other articles and first-hand accounts found in the collections of the Library of Congress. Suggested by Peggy Nuhn, Connect Libraries

#ucf library #featured bookshelf #american history

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skarsgard-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

On the Nature of Daylight

Description: On a cold winter night, you discover Henry’s fear of open spaces.

Notes: This story features a reader who works as a teacher. I started writing this in response to one of the sentence prompts (”Don’t go”) sent in by a kind anon, but it was so long it mandated its own post. The title is from a song by Max Richter. No warnings. Just some angst.

If there was one thing Henry could not get used to at the old farmhouse you had inherited when your uncle passed, it was the sheer size of it all. Your grandfather had built the house by hand with timber logged from the land where it stood. You loved the two-story windows that looked out over the lake, the open floor plan that let the kitchen spill into the living room. You had so many memories of holidays spent in this house, a towering Christmas tree glittering in the window as the entire family filled the space with joyful chatter and the warmth of their affection.

When you moved in, it felt like too much space for just one person. But through a strange turn of fate, you now found yourself sharing the house with another occupant. When you heard that the young man they found in the belly of Shawshank was staying alone in a warehouse, you did what you always did: you stuck your nose where it didn't belong and decided to solve the problem yourself. You brought him home one day in December and set him up in the big guest room at the far end of the hall.

You should have recognized the problem sooner. Henry kept to the corners of a room. He liked to have his back to the wall. You often walked inside and nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw him looming in your periphery, the light from the massive fireplace casting strange shadows in his heterochromatic eyes.

"Henry," you would say, placing a hand over your heart. "You startled me."

You didn't want him to feel bad, so you learned to expect him around corners and gradually became accustomed to his uncanny presence in your home. It seemed like he had no idea what to do with his freedom now that he had it. He was used to spending long stretches with nothing to do but listen to the far off sound of the universe expanding into outer darkness, a low hum that crackled with energy from time to time, like solar flares. He didn't like loud noises, or sitting on furniture, or the way the darkness looked in at him through the big living room windows at night.

A quiet harmony developed between you both. It was winter break, so you usually spent your days in your office, preparing lesson plans for next semester. Sometimes Henry paced in the hall while you worked. You listened as he padded barefoot down the hall, keeping time with a slow, mysterious rhythm. You usually left the door ajar, an unspoken invitation in case he wanted to come inside, but he preferred to keep barriers between him and other people, though you would occasionally catch the glint of his eerie blue eye staring at you through the crack in the door.

You wondered who he had been before he was locked in a cage. If he had any family who might be looking for him, he never tried to seek them out. You thought that maybe the person he was before had long since vacated the space behind his eyes, that what remained behind was like blown glass—beautiful and fragile and empty. It was wrong to think that way, you scolded yourself. But you did.

During the week leading up to Christmas, you tried to think of a way to get out of making the drive south to New Hampshire for dinner with your parents. There was no way you could bring Henry with you. They didn't know you had invited a strange man to share your home, and they would be baffled by your sudden proclamation that you were bringing a guest home for the holidays after your pre-mature descent into spinsterhood. Even if he did come along, Henry would hate their persistent questions and judging gazes. Your father would clap him on the shoulder in a show of dominance that would rattle him for a week, and your grandmother would lean over and loudly ask what was wrong with him. But the family was insistent on your attendance, and you decided you would stay just long enough for turkey and pie and cite concern for the weather when you made an early exit.

Henry sat against the wall in the living room while you explained all of this to him, his long legs stretched out on the hardwood floor and the wide neck of his favorite grey sweatshirt hanging lopsided on his shoulder. He never met your eyes when you talked, but he nodded slowly when you asked him if he heard you. Since his arrival, you had only left the house for a few hours here and there to run errands or pick up groceries, and you were not sure if a prolonged absence would be a welcome respite or a painful separation for him.

"The drive is a few hours each way, but I'll be home later tonight," you explained. "If you need to reach me you can call me, just like I showed you."

It was snowing on the way down and you had to stop on the side of the road and put on your tire chains by yourself. You had half a mind to turn back then, but the sheer volume of guilt that would be volleyed at you for the rest of the year pushed you to keep going. When you finally arrived, you tried calling home, but Henry didn't answer. That wasn't a surprise. He probably assumed it was someone calling for you, and you knew that the thought of picking up a telephone receiver and speaking to a total stranger unnerved him. You found yourself packaging up leftovers to take home before they had even served the pie.

"I'm worried about the roads," you said as you kissed your grandmother on the cheek. They tried to convince you to stay, but everything within you was saying that you never should have left.

There were no lights on in the house when you pulled into the driveway. You felt the dull realization thudding in your chest that you were the one who always flicked them on when the daylight began to wane. You walked inside and flipped the switch, illuminating the cavernous living room with its glittering Christmas tree and moonlit view of the lake. You checked the corner of every room on the main floor, but Henry wasn't there.

"Henry?" you called as you ascended the stairs. A tightness was gathering in your chest—a visceral feeling somewhere between guilt and panic. His bedroom looked the same as the day he arrived, except for the quilt that had been removed from the top layer of bedding and stuffed under the bed. You searched every room, checking under the beds and inside the closets, calling his name over and over, but there was no sign of him.

There was one more place to check. The house had a spacious basement crammed with all your uncle’s things that you couldn’t bring yourself to sort through when you moved in. It also doubled as the laundry room. No matter how many times you insisted it would be okay, you could never get Henry to walk down those stairs so you could show him how the washer and dryer worked. He would simply back away down the hall, keeping one eye on the door until you had returned to the top of the stairs and shut it behind you.

You grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and headed for the basement. It seemed an unlikely place for him to be hiding, but it was possible he had gone down there in search of you and gotten spooked. Maybe he hadn’t been able to find his way back out. The stairs squeaked beneath you as you flipped on the light. The room was riddled with the ephemera of a man’s life packed away in boxes and jammed onto large metal shelving units that jutted out into the space, creating plenty of nooks and crannies where Henry could have lodged himself.

The beam of your flashlight swept across the room. You almost missed him. Tucked away in one of the corners was a dog crate that used to be in the living room. You remembered that your uncle would kennel his Bull Mastiff inside it whenever he went to work in the yard so the dog wouldn’t tear up the back door. Henry had crawled inside and pulled the wire door shut behind him, curling into a ball and falling into a deep sleep. You knelt alongside the crate and laced your fingers through the metal frame, your breath freezing in your chest as you watched him sleep. You wanted to reach in and touch him, to ask him why he would seek out another cage after everything that had happened. Maybe the lofty interior of the house felt too vast, too alien in your absence.

“Henry,” you said softly, afraid of startling him. “Henry, I’m home.”

His hunched frame stirred, and he slowly sat up and peered at you through the wire cage. His gaze seemed sharper now, as though every other time he had looked at you it had been with one eye only, while the other was focused on something unseen by anyone else but him. He reached out and touched your fingertips with his own, looking you in the eyes for the first time.

“Don’t go,” he whispered.

You curled your fingers around his delicately, as though he might shatter into pieces if you were not careful. A pulse of energy thrummed through your hand, something strange and magnetic you couldn’t name.

“I’m right here,” you whispered back.

(part of Sound and Color: a series of The Kid/Henry stories/drabbles)

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #the kid #henry deaver #castle rock #bill skarsgard fanfiction #the kid fanfiction #henry deaver fanfiction #castle rock fanfiction #my stories #asks #sound and color

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ranmanjuu · 4 years ago

Note

hi! can you do a gen z mc who got injured at the protests and have them elaborate on what the protests were about to the oda forces? i got tear gassed at a protest so your writing is actually helping me feel better!

tw : injuries from police br*tality, heavy r*cism

first of all i hope you’re okay!! i’m so sorry for taking so long i hope you’re still here reading this ehhh,,. i personally don’t know much of ‘getting injured in protests’ other than rubber bullets and tear gassing—and for anyone out there protesting (also considering recent things that have happened in my country,,,), please be safe out there!

ᅠᅠ

—nobunaga:

the first encounter you had, he didn’t really notice it. he had a lot of things on his plate, mostly about his assassination attempt, you know, the usual.

it’s only when he invites you to his tenshu to know more about his most interesting chatelaine. after all, the moment his life was out of danger, the immediate groan out of you raised a brow.

in your defense, going back from a protest then just sent back 500 years in the past did put you in a pissy mood. the injustice was enough bullshit, you didn’t want to deal with this right after.

and,,, your response was probably too snarky for a man in power like him. but that’s what compelled him to bring you to the castle. maybe it was spite, or just dangerous curiosity. no one’s spoken to him in such,,, rude manners before.

being all past the whole, chasing-you-down-just-for-you-to-come-to-my-sickass-castle, the dragged-500-years-into-the-warring-states-period, constant-wars-everywhere, and everything in between, you’ve managed to,, calm down decently, at least. you’re just really confused as to why he called you in.

through your slippery tounge, you accidentally let it slip that you’re from the future; great job! mission one from sasuke already failed. but—you’ve dug your grave, now you have to lie in it.

upon listening to the rest of your explanation, naturally, nobunaga starts asking questions.

after a series of them, mostly about general stuff like technology, etc., he hits you with a curveball. “what is that?” he asks, observing the small patch of reddened skin.

you’ve been shot by a rubber bullet prior to the time traveling. you wager that they were aiming for the neck—a highly fatal area to hit, even with a rubber bullet, mind you—but you were lucky enough to only be hit near the collar bone. still—to say it’s inexcusable is an understatement.

“huh—?” you follow his eyes, then trail your fingers on the edge as you show more of your injury, “. . .got injured a while back. asshole cops think they can just. . .fuckin’. . .”

your sentence turns too faint for him to hear clearly, he only knows that you feel anger from your tone. all he does is gaze passively as the steam comes out of your, slowly.

“what happened exactly?”

and with that one question, he’s in for quite the story. you start off in the beginning; what triggered it all. the injustice brought by those who are said to protect the people, the same ones that shed blood because they knew they could get away with it. then, the protests done by the ones who wanted justice, equality, something that should just be the norm at this point.

and then, the horrible attacks the cops’ve done to hose who protested,,, the mere thought gets your blood boiling, really. no one poised any kind of harm, it was a peaceful protest—and yet they still hurted, perhaps even killed. and they get away with it.

“. . .and i sure as hell ain’t gonna die to some bullshit system. i’ll keep on going at it until people can stop dying so. . .needlessly like that.”

he pauses after hearing you. his eyes have a vague sense of scrutinize, but certainly not at you. "and you still continue to go, even if it results in injuries for you?”

you look back at him, determination burning like a passion, “as long as less people will die of discrimination; as long as our cause is heard in the end—i’ll sacrifice anything for it. for equality.”

the silence rings for minutes.

but the hand on your shoulder quickly strays your mind back to him. to your surprise, a daring smile, almost a smirk, pulled his lips, “you are braver than many men that i’ve met. fiery and passionate also. i do believe you’ll be quite the addition here.”

and while you raise an eyebrow to that, your heart settles as he ends it with one final thing, “you’ve earned my utmost respect.”

ᅠᅠ

—hideyoshi:

he would have been highly alerted in your presence—had it not been the fact that your eye was bruised and injured. it was fresh, the patch of skin having not turn purple or black yet, but it was enough to signal that it could be a fatal wound.

medics were sent your way by his command, and given the opportunity, he checked in on you frequently. the culprit of the attempted assassination was yet to be found—so he just assumed that you were a poor civilian caught in the crossfire.

you were rather crude to him, but he brushed it all off. you must’ve been some sort of stressed out after just saving his lord, so he gave you space and went to do other things.

it’s when they reconvene under nobunaga’s order did he find out about the decision for your fate.

“my lord, are you sure we should bring them back to azuchi? perhaps they have a place in a town around here.”

“—not really.” hideyoshi’s eyes filled with surprise and concern as a small response came out of you, with eyes looking away from everyone in the tent with lips bitten anxiously and brows stitched together.

so it ended on you going to azuchi along with them. because really, even if you didn’t want to, what were you to do? you had no place in the sengoku, and you’ve forgotten all about your scouts lessons back in middle school to survive in the forest.

and while you insist on working rather than just be royalty basically, hideyoshi is the one who persuades you to at least rest first. with a sigh, you agree.

from then on, you find him visiting you quite often between his breaks. most of the time, asking how you’ve been, making light conversations over tea, and sometimes fussing over the smallest things. it’s a gradual change you’ll get used to—from the failed assassination to the weird, home-y feeling he brings.

it didn’t take long for his curiosity to push him. one day, with the usual cup of tea, the silence passes for quite the moment until he spoke up, “if i may ask, where exactly,,, did you get that?”

he doesn’t quite point to it, but you know what he’s talking about. half your vision is covered now, from ieyasu’s work on trying to make it better. you stare in the cup, swishing the tea around, “. . .my town had, uhhh, ‘problems’.”

he listened intently as you reworded the current real life events. just change the cops to guard, the bullets to blunt sticks(?), etc. the core of it you kept the same, the discrimination, the unruly deaths and wounds of the innocent.

all the while, hideyoshi looks at you with slightly parted lips and eyes that spell a bit of disbelief. such compassion don’t exist in a lot of people—much less a majority of civillians from a town. he thought he’d’ve heard about it, but you did say it was quite the small one, far away.

as you finish your long explanation, your face was scrunched up in a scowl, remembering the scene at the time. the cops came, a highly dangerous situation; but you weren’t leaving just like that. not until you got hit by a bullet did you go back home—and look where you are now.

“—.” hideyoshi calls out your name, snapping you to reality. you dart your attention to him, his face filled with concern, worry—but also slight anger and a distant sense of fondness.

“. . .when nobunaga unites the country, we’ll be sure to aid you. we’ll stop them from hurting anyone else. so until then, please stay with us.”

the sentiment brought warmth to your heart, but you knew the truth. he wouldn’t be able to, the wormhole was a big separation in that. even so, you shook your head, “i don’t,,, uhh, think i can stay for that long.”

his brows stitch together in confusion, “and why is that?”

“. . .i want to go back as soon as i can. and—i only have one chance to do such a thing, and never again.” upon your answer, his eyes widened a bit. no further questions were asked about that, as your own expression said you didn’t want to talk about it.

“but—you could be in danger if you go back.”

“i don’t care.” the tea is cold as you set it down, “. . .i don’t wanna,,, just escape and turn a blind eye to it, i think. it may be safer for me here, but—i still want to help back there. whether or not i’m injured is,,, a means to an end, for me.”

that’s when every suspicion he could’ve had about you dissolved. the determination and righteousness that burned so brightly in your voice was irreplaceable. along with that, was a very deep respect for you. he serves nobunaga because he believed in equality among everyone, and it seems so do you. even if you’re willing to sacrifice yourself—to see a better world where everyone is happy.

a beat passes. two. with a sigh, hideyoshi’s hardened gaze relents back into the strange warmness, hid hand reaching out to ruffle your hair. “well, i don’t think i agree with you diving into potential danger, but just so you know. if you ever need help, you can always reach to us, alright?”

you breath out a chuckle, “. . .of course.”

ᅠᅠ

—mitsuhide:

your whole entire body was sore even before the wormhole sent you back. not to mention, just after that, you had to carry a full-armored man out of a burning building with someone trying to kill said man.

so to say you were disoriented was quite an understatement.

you didn’t even feel it until days have passed. and at this point, you’ve gone under mitsuhide’s tutoring. being sat down for a long time made it painfully obvious that your body was still healing—but you’ve sang this song a million times before. in which the soreness lingered for a while, and then it’d disappear. you can bear with it.

that is, until he started training you in battle.

the tanegashima practice was fine, if a bit triggering by the gunshots. but you saw it the same as archery. however, sparring on the other hand,,,

yeah. the first break you took, you already felt every single part of you reeling. mitsuhide wasn’t ruthless with you, but you figure he wasn’t being soft either.

in truth, prior to arriving in the sengoku period, your body had taken a hit in a protest. you didn’t get caught in the tear-gassing crossfire, or got shot by a rubber bullet. rather, a police car had arrived at the scene and begun to drive forward into the crowd. it didn’t become a car crash site, no deaths occurred to your knowledge (thankfully).

but you were one of the ones in the front row seats, you fell to the ground and took some damage in a number of places. they were more of inconveniences than anything.

still—forcing your body to fight a trained swordsman was not a good idea.

and the fox has an eye for these things, sensing when his enemies are weak. at least it proves to be a disadvantage if you really are dangerous. his eyes linger on you as you rub your sore spots with the occasional groan.

“the little mouse seems to be wounded.” he says. it’s clear he’s trying to extract some kind of information about the person who just popped out one day, “pray tell, what might be the cause of such?”

“i got, uhhh,” you can’t say car, those don’t exist yet— “knocked down by a horse.” admittedly, a horse is probably more dangerous than a car—but you deal with what you have.

“is that so.” with the smile and narrowed eyes of his, you knew that he didn’t buy it. but to your defense, your state clearly proves it in some way—so he deduced that you weren’t telling the complete truth.

and he welcomes it. it’d be his absolute pleasure to unravel the mystery.

eventually, he does. in promise to keep your secret away from others, you keep his.

“so, little mouse,” the night has yet to pass, but you wish it did. your stuff was spilled in front of you, all evidence of you coming from the future, “was that cover-up story about the horse a lie?”

it’s a rhetorical question; he knew the answer already. still, you roll your eyes, “of course, we rarely use those in the future. a police car hit a crowd, and i was caught in it.”

promptly realizing he doesn’t know anything, a lengthy explanation ensued.

“oh my. and you said this, ‘car’ drove into a crowd? that’s highly dangerous, is it not?”

“it is!” your calm words slowly dissolve, your hands now waving in gestures, “and guess what, it’s the cops that do it! uhh—guards in old terms, i guess. y’know the people who’re said to supposedly protect us? yeah, hit us with a car.”

mitsuhide isn’t the most curious about the future. but he is a bit confused about the context.

and so you continue, explaining everything. from the start, to where you were, along with what your thoughts are on the whole situation

through all that, he stays silent, not commenting until you were thoroughly finished. you can’t read his expression—so you stare at him, waiting for even a word.

suddenly, he smiles, “well, looks like our little mouse is quite the something, aren’t you?” before you could respond with anything, he pats you on the head with a strange sense of softness, “pureness and ideals like you are rare in this world.”

in truth, he agrees. he’s someone who’s faced discrimination head on from being in the lower class—and he fights for a world that his lord would like to see. even if he’ll remain in the dark, for his stained, dark hands would only corrupt the purity. at least, so he thinks.

you look back with pursed lips and a slight frown, “then i’ll help make it more common. if it results in people being treated as people, i’ll do it.”

you don’t hear it, but he draws in a sharp breath. his eyes are muddled—with what, you don’t know—but you drop the thought as he lifts the hand off of your head with a chuckle, “i will say, i didn’t quite expect this.”

they say eyes are the window of the soul. while he had his closed most of the time—you managed to peek in a small bit of warmth and fondness in them.

ᅠᅠ

—masamune:

you came to the sengoku period with a sprained ankle. which, in a time where war was rampant, probably wasn’t a good thing to have. especially when you’re being dragged into battle just for the fun of it.

although you admit you made yourself seem tougher than you were (with you being used to injuries like this before, so you’ve grown used to gritting your teeth), you still curse masamune to hell and back. no, you do not care if you’re on a horse or just in camp, your foot hurt like shit either way.

naturally, you wouldn’t take that for long.

thus the next time he planned to take you along (you could already see the glint in his eye), you snapped at him. well—much less ‘snap’ and more of ‘telling him off rather harshly ft. a sprinkle of swearing’.

“listen, assfart, my ankle’s been killing me, and if i’m going by that analogy, you’re practically desecrating it’s corpse and grave. so for the love of god, stop dragging me into battles!”

an expression of surprise went on his face for a moment, before it morphed to his usual grin, “is that so? seems like out kitten likes to run around and ended up hurting themselves.”

“not my fault they shot me in the fuckin’ ankle. . .” you mutter without a second thought under your breath, which he, unfortunately, heard.

“they shot you, lass?”

seeing his ever so slightly widened eye, you pursed your lips, “yeah. nothing too serious.”

even so, you see the way his eyes narrow with a glint—more so of excitement than anything else, “still though lassie, with you being under nobunaga, i doubt they’ll get away with hurtin’ ya.”

“what does that mean?”

fingers comb through your hair in a wild pat, accompanied with a fanged grin, “they won’t be alive for hurtin’ the lord’s precious lucky charm.”

your lips pursed as a frown pulls upon your brows, “i don’t want them to get away solely for me being nobunaga’s ‘lucky charm’.”

“and why is that, kitten?”

his eyes slightly lit up at your hardened and serious aura as you closed your eyes with a sigh. “the same people who hurt me are the same ones who’ve hurt many others, on the basis that they believe they’re above them; over a stupid thing like race. and i won’t be just letting it slide, even if i can’t fight or anything.”

the flame in your eyes are ones that masamune has grown to recognize; the anger and bitterness as you look back on a memory, only to fill up your heart with passion.

“i’ll die if it means that they’ll be punished and everyone is treated the same.”

silence rings past, the wind slowly becomes a solid aura in the air. stunned, he leaves a small chuckle and pats your head,

“the lord made a wonderful decision to bring ya here, lass.”

—ieyasu:

going by his usual self, he didn’t care much when you arrived, other than you were someone nobunaga picked up from his failed assassination. however, him being an expert in things health related, some things didn’t go by with him.

first of all, your eyes were a slight fade of red. at first he figured it was a leftover from honno-ji’s smokes, but as the days tick by, its persistence is now rather worrying. they should’ve faded away by now, so he thought.

and it became more and more painfully obvious, at least to him. the way you rubbed your eyes sometimes, them tearing up at random intervals—and even you squinting at rare occasions that, unless you had an eye problem like mitsunari, shouldn’t be there.

a seed of worry was planted, although he never expressed it. after all, you were being dragged into battle, where dust and more smoke can easily go into your already bugged eyes.

therefore one day, wordlessly, he took you to his workplace. at first, you were confused; ieyasu hasn’t exactly talked to you a lot.

he picks up a small bottle, along with a cup-like lid, “use this, and wash your eyes with it. and by that i mean just tilt it up and blink when it goes into your eyes.”

you just blinked a few times, stunned more than anything. “,,,, why?”

“you think i don’t notice?” he scoffs, “you’ve been rubbing your eyes like crazy, and it’s past the point where your eyes should even be red since the honno-ji incident. either your eyes have been having problems way before, or you’re just dumber and clumsier than i thought.”

“hey! it’s not my fault, for any of the incidents!”

“so there are multiple instances?”

the judgemental look sent your way was something that your stubborn mind won’t back out from, even if it mean having to somewhat explain your situation.

“w, well, there have been several uhm.... arson crimes in my town, i can’t help but be in the vicinity.”

if arson crimes translated to tear gassings, yes, there were many.

“arson crimes? your town is,,, jeez.”

“it’s not the citizens’ fault, look to the fuckin’ guards of our village for that.” the tone had immediately shifted from a kind of flustered banter, to immediate bitter undertones.

immediately, the silence rang on. ieyasu sat there, looking into you as much as he could, with his bare bones knowledge of you. the pieces were there, and it wasn’t hard to put them together. for a moment, he wondered if you were more than the unfortunate one to be pulled into this mess. but if your town was as much a mess as that. . . perhaps it was for the better.

“. . .then you’re planning to stay here, right?” he had his own opinions and thoughts of someone taking advantage of a high-powered lord taking them in, but eh, he thinks, people will do what they have to do to survive—

“not really. assuming nobunaga would even let me go in the first place.”

ieyasu stood there, stunned, “. . .you’re planning to go back to your own town? even from all the danger there?”

“yeah.” you look at him with a slight imbalanced expression, “i don’t have anywhere else to go, other than there, so. . .”

“but why not stay here? it’s safer, you do know that right?”

“of course,” you sigh, “but it’s still my home, all things considered. yeah, there’s a whole lot of corrupt things going on but, they’re still humans, the people i live with. i don’t wanna run away from it, i’d just. . .i’d like to try and help them also.:

ieyasu stays silent as you lean back to the wall, looking out the door with a fond and melancholic gaze, “the,,, guards in my town are doing this just cause of their stupid beliefs and whatever. superiority complex and whatnot. and people are dying because of it, only for things that they can’t control and. . . it’s just so bullshit.”

you turn back to him, with a strong light blaring in your eyes; filled with hope and determination, “wouldn’t you want to go back and help them? even if i get injured, as long as people will be treated the same and won’t face death for something miniscule, i consider it worth it.”

you’ve never seen him surprised at you; at least not in this sense. usually it’d be surprise at some mistake you did, making an offhand crude comment to it but here. . .here it’s partnered with the smallest bit of sparkle. like a hidden respect for you behind his uncaring persona.

you only look as he slowly stands up, his shadow befalling on you. with the same, yet subtle, amount of shine in his eyes as in yours, he sighs softly and takes your hand,

“at least if you’re gonna go into that kind of battlefield, let me teach your ditzy self how to take care of injuries first.”

—mitsunari:

your sudden arrival already aroused questions, as you’d appeared before nobunaga sporting a bloodied cut on your cheek. at the time, they took the assumption that the assassin did it to you.

and although it was fussed for a bit, it was quickly covered up with some cloth fitting for the period. and then, everything went as normal.

taking up job as mitsunari’s personal caretaker wasn’t one you’d reject, because really, how bad could it be? but the man himself kept insisting that you don’t, added that not only were you a special charm of nobunaga’s, you were also injured from the night of honno-ji. he couldn’t do that to you; not after such a stressful night.

and yet you were stubborn as well. with the final decision being up to nobunaga, which you accepted wholeheartedly, of course, you now had the role to take care of mitsunari.

although his. . .clumsy nature was one that you should be worried for, you find it that he often checks up on you, apologizing each time he could’ve potentially hurt you. and each time, you waved it off and assured him that yes, you were fine.

but you can see it in his eyes, the tint of guilt and worry that lingers on before he succumbs to his reading trance. truth is, the injury is just a mild inconvinience of pain, so there really wasn’t much to fuss over.

in his eyes, your degree has gotten much higher than before. whether your wound would’ve affected your job didn’t matter to him; it was the fact that you were hurt in the first place. you shouldn’t have to take care of him when you needed to take care of yourself! or so is what he thinks to himself.

and so he tries to make it up to you. you need reading lessons? he’ll try to squeeze it in his schedule! or maybe it’s time for a break, he’ll tour you around in the bustling city of azuchi. it feels like whenever you need something, he’s always there next to you, and you can’t help but feel charmed by it.

mitsunari isn’t one to notice details about a person if it isn’t in a situation like in battle. but he’s gotten very sharp at seeing the slight reactions and how you’re doing; and here’s what he’s picked up on:

other than the wound on your cheek, your stomach area seems to be bruised or something close to that. you might’ve not told anyone about it, cause he hasn’t heard a peep of that anywhere, not even when he kept asking politely (or bugging, in the man’s eyes) for ieyasu’s information.

so fuck it, he just decides to ask you one day.

“why do you have an injury on your stomach area?”

it was a lesson hour, you didn’t expect him to throw,,,that curveball. maybe more of, what does this character mean? or how do you write this word? but. . .

“uhm—an incident that happened before the whole honno-ji thing.”

“and you never told anyone, even lord ieyasu?”

“n, no, kinda.”

he’s serious than before, and yet there’s something in his eyes that’s very inviting, inviting you to tell your feelings and story, inviting you to a hug of warmth and safety.

and you succumb.

“. . . things have been happening in my town before i came here.” then what was once a lesson sessioin, turned into you explaining what you and the world was going through before coming to the sengoku, with many phrasings replaced of course.

“is that so. . .” he mutters, “i haven’t heard a case like this, although i don’t doubt there aren’t any. . .i should do some reasearches.. .”

“i-it’s fine, really. . .!”

you managed to convince him that it’s fiiine, he shouldn’t read up on it and just focus on his works (since it would render your story false pretty quickly,,).

“but you still haven’t explained how you got the injury.”

“oh yeah. i got kicked down by one of the guards and then i got this as a result.” you pointed at the covered up wound, now probably just a scar, on your cheek. mitsunari goes silent, then a slow and silent hum resonates in him.

you’ve never quite seen the look in his eyes as you did. they were sharper, even if you weren’t situated in a battlefield, and you could see the gears turn in his brain. for what, you’re not quite sure.

“mitsu,,,?”

and with just your voice, his clouded eyes clear up, and he sends his angelic smile your way, “it’s fine now, lady—” his voice rings gently like bells, “you’re now safer. .even if you want to go back there. but i’ll be here by your side to protect you always, so please remember.”

“. . .heh, alright. of course i will.”

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simtrospective · 4 years ago

Photo

SCRAPPED STORY CHALLENGE by @bugsims

01. Post a few screenshots from a scrapped scene / edit / story! 02. Share why you scrapped this specific thing. 03. Tag five friends, and watch the fun play out!

Thank you to @gilded-ghosts for the tag.

Because I wrote so much that you might prefer to skip, let me do 03. outside the cut. I tag...

@ladykendalsims - @jet-plane-sims - @boogey-studios - @pinkmonsimblr - @dynastiasimss

The above pictures (plus the related tray files) are all I have left of an idea that was half-formed to begin with and which never got off the ground at all.

01.

Depending on if you’re a follower of mine + how long you’ve been following me, you may have seen a few of these shots before but I’ll explain them anyway:

Set 1: The characters Charlie, Hick, and Craig, in their original states on the left and their enhanced, final states on the right;

Set 2: A few WIP pictures of the performance space/club/thing I built;

Set 3: A bunch of test shots I took to see how the characters looked interacting, what they did naturally, and how they looked when I ~directed them. I used these pics to try and find my editing style for the story. I didn’t find the style I wanted. Clearly.

02.

I scrapped this idea because it never came together; I didn’t connect with the characters; I didn’t care about the storyline; I’m not done with my new save so I couldn’t ~comfortably start telling this story when the rest of the world was/is disordered; and on and on. The point is, I wasn’t feeling any of this. Oh! And I hate the whole vibe and time period and aesthetic irl; what on earth was I thinking writing about it?!

So. What was this going to be?

[[Under the cut because this is... so, so long. So long.]]

Charlie, Hick, and Craig were

going

to live in Del Sol Valley in my new save, in the Pinnacles neighborhood, which I was

going

to turn into a Laurel Canyon-style neighborhood. An entire community of would-be songwriters/musicians were

going

to live in the two smaller lots and commune with one another and be the New Guard colliding with the Old Guard; the huge mansion lot was

going

to house an aging former film-current soap actor confronting his mortality and also hating the living shit out of these hippies whose existence he took as a personal affront--I digress. Back to the “story.”

Charlie, Hick, and Craig met after each arrived in DSV separately and they vibed and they moved in together, all in a matter of, like, a week’s time. Charlie and Hick vibed especially. So much in common! Such poor little rich [kids]! Both came from pampered environments in which their family money and respective fathers’ connections allowed them to skate through life and to play at being musicians because--despite crying oppression at the hands of upper class WASP-dom--they'll always have safety nets to ensure they’ll always be okay. Charlotte Grant graduated from her all-girls prep school and put on a floppy hat and became Charlie Grant; Richard Hickey (lololol) ripped up his acceptance letter to Britechester and grew his hair out and hitchhiked and told people to call him “Hick.” They’ve lived parallel lives and “recognize” one another as soon as they meet. They have an electric connection, but neither will verbalize that. Above all, they... really want to sleep together.

Craig grew up working class and has no safety net; he just wants a little adventure before he gets a real job/grows up/gets married (his gf back home is off to college; they’re long-distance; it’s... not going to work). He’s a good guitar player and he’s a good songwriter and that’s it but maybe it’ll be more? What do they say about the lottery? Can’t win if you don’t play? Charlie and Hick want to be famous ~rule the world. Hick plays guitar well and tries to write songs but they’re shitty. Charlie is passively learning the keyboard and writes songs that are not... bad...? Some are... good?

Charlie and Hick--can you tell they eclipse Craig, yet?--have weird sexual chemistry and tension: they tease, they flirt, they taunt, they enjoy one another’s attention but they never so much as hug. They both have cruel streaks as only disconnected, spoiled, emotionally stunted bluebloods can: the torture of their relationship/non-relationship gets them off more than anything else could and that thrill drives much of their behaviors: bringing wanton strangers home for one night stands, each hoping the other is watching/overhearing, fighting about little things, acting like inappropriately close siblings, acting like strangers. Craig suffers their whims; Charlie and Hick aren’t just united in their toxicity and their dreams of fame, but in how they make Craig into a third wheel or a--well, punching bag is too strong a term. Charlie and Hick think they’re teasing their bff but you know how it is to be teased allllll the tiiiiiiime and how it can make your head spin when people who can’t get along with one another join forces--without even having to discuss it--to turn on you. Their relationship gets patched up, you’re hurting, they insist it’s not a big deal and even that you even liked it. We’re all friends. We’re all best friends omg.

But sometimes they have fun together. They have a lot of fun together. Sometimes it all is everything each dreamed it would be. DSV is a wonderland and their careers are happening and life is happening and they’re best friends. They’re soulmates for life.

The three work on music, perform at clubs. Craig is starting to come into his own as a man. I hate the term coming-of-age but in the background of the Charlie & Hick Show, Craig is maturing. He has to, because C&H are fuck-ups. They jeopardize scheduled performances. They don’t know how to talk to club owners. They’re not interested in paying their dues. They are unable (or unwilling) to promote themselves without being obnoxious attention whores. They don’t practice or help write songs. They don’t take care of the house. Hick is late with his rent. Charlie thinks she can flirt her way out of everything. Craig is also the only one of them who works; he has a day job at a print shop, gives guitar lessons on the side, and makes sure the three get gigs and don’t get evicted. The only thing C&H put consistent effort toward is making the social scene or finding a party or scoring drugs or getting laid. As the group’s local star(s) rise, their fates start to change course which increases the interpersonal tension. Hick’s fun-loving nature is starting to turn into a legit substance abuse problem and he’s picking fights with the wrong people and socially devolving, his arrogance and issues and general laziness rendering him unable to relate to others; Charlie is getting a lot of attention from older men In the Business, who have the money and connections to make her a solo star, which she is shrewdly considering; and Craig’s resentment toward his “friends” and disillusionment with the superficiality of DSV is making him rethink his motivation for coming west in the first place.

Oh, and Charlie and Hick--again, as their paths change and as their weird tension remains unresolved--continue to take their bullshit out on Craig and now it’s not funny anymore, it’s not cute, it’s not exciting, and neither is it when Hick ruins a show by being too stoned to perform and neither is it when Charlie brings unsavory characters home who trash the three’s equipment and neither is it when C&H steal Craig’s songs and perform without him at a gig they didn’t tell him about.

What I intended was that the story would at first seem to be The Charlie and Hick Show, all about them, as if we’re supposed to root for them, but ideally, through my ~deft hand 🙄 the reader 🙄🙄 was supposed to be like, Um... hold on-- until it eventually was quite obvious that these two--though human; though in situations we could understand and empathize with--were captured at a point in their lives when they were Super Toxic Assholes, and what you were watching all along was Craig as Hero.

So I had ideas, but I didn’t know how to fit them together and I didn’t want a really long story and I couldn’t--I just couldn’t figure it out. I do know that the end was going to be Craig screwing them like they’d been screwing him, a final middle finger with consequences. I know that he and Hick were going to have words and Hick was going to try and fight him (such a loser) and Charlie was going to throw a Hail Mary of like... trying to seduce (lol) Craig into staying omg I always had a thing for you/we’d be such a great team/I always thought we could ~be something ~together uwu bullshit like that. Was this true? Was this true in her own mind? I think I was going to set the story up so that if you reread, yeah, it could be true, but she’s so flirty and manipulative and socially savvy and used to getting what she wants that who knows what her real feelings ever are? Ultimately that would’ve been irrelevant bc Craig never looked at her that way and hates her and Hick now; good going guys. It’s worth noting, I guess, that when I put the group on a test lot, Charlie was super into Craig immediately, went right to him, stood close to him, was eager to make romantic overtures; she went 0 to 60 in an instant and as so far as is possible in this game they had chemistry, but Craig was not feeling the romance. And no one was feeling Hick.

Anyway, Craig was going to move on with his life and Charlie and Hick were going to learn nothing and blame him, ~the end.

And then, as I continued to play my save and maybe tell more stories, there would be Easter eggs, references to Charlie, Hick, and Craig older/in the future and where they went in life in the background of other, unrelated stories: Hick’s substance abuse problems and rehab stints and going by Richard again and his eventual moderate fame and eventual sobriety and attempted comeback and his bad relationships with his exes and children; Charlie’s legit fame + marriage to a producer + eventual fade away + moderate comeback + solid second or third marriage and bff relationship with her children 🙄🙄🙄 and her palatial house on the coast and now she exclusively wears white and ivory and pampers her dogs and eats raw (but drinks wine) because it “cured” her undiagnosed, unnamed “autoimmune disorder,” which she wrote a book about resulting in a semi-comeback but as a Famous Person and not a musician. Craig going to college and becoming a high school English teacher who plays in a local band on the weekends and who has a good marriage (not to the long distance gf) and nice kids, one of whom would eventually have her own story where she pursued musicianship with her dad, which got him back into his first passion but it was a qt father-daughter project and not An Attempt to Be Famous.

So. Idk. That’s what this all would’ve been. But it wasn’t, and it won’t be!

#sims 4 #ts4 #scrapped story challenge

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seriouslyhooked · 5 years ago

Text

Feels Like This (Part 2)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1 Here. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Oh my god, guys, I am not going to lie, I am having so much fun writing this fic! I have missed having new stories to explore so much, and I am so eternally grateful for all of you who kept pushing me to do another Royal AU. I didn’t realize how much I was going to love doing this again until I started, and now I have so much I want to explore, and so much fluff and cuteness in my head I can’t wait to share with you all. I hope you will enjoy this chapter. Keep in mind, I know it’s been a slower burn so far, but I promise the pay off will be perfect. In the meantime, you’ll see where Killian is in this fic, and the people in his life who will become important characters to the rest of the story. Some are based on the show, some are added additions as you’ll see. For example, I always name Killian’s mom ‘Meera’ in my fics, I know it kind of sounds like Milah, but they’re not the same and I chose that name originally because of its meaning and because of a poem I read long ago – the sounds was coincidence. Anyway, that being said, I hope you will enjoy, and thank you so much for reading!

“Well, mates, we’ve finally done it. Our twelve-month stint is complete and all our sorry asses are heading home. Never thought I’d see the day.”

The words from Will Scarlet hung between Killian and his friends where they sat in the cargo hold of a military aircraft flying over the last piece of the sea that separated them all from home. They had just finished their active deployment in a classified location, and it had been immersive and seemingly unending. With limited contact to the outside world, and a constant goal of getting their mission done, these officers and their subordinates had worked hard to serve their country and its citizens. It had been trying times, and the task at hand was hard, but this was what they trained for. The Montenarro elite naval force was as selective as it was distinguished, and every man and woman serving in it was considered a national hero. But Killian hated that term, and he hated it more than anything when it was used in conjunction with his other loathed title – prince.

“You nearly didn’t make it, Scar-boy. If you hadn’t had Hook watching your back, you’d be dead ten times over.”

Killian smirked at the bit of teasing from Robin. That nickname for Scarlet was classic and well earned, given how many near misses he’d had with a tragic, awful death. But the boy part was bestowed thanks to Scarlet’s enduring childishness. His old friend always brought a laugh, and he could sober up when things got serious, but he couldn’t apply that sense of military discipline or responsibility to the rest of his life. He was a man child: unruly and a bit manic, but now that they were coming home, Killian hoped Will might figure things out. Meanwhile, Killian’s nickname, Hook, had at one time been a huge resentment for him. He’d earned the moniker in a notorious fight off base years ago just upon entering the royal command. The man he laid out with a single punch was a right jack ass, who’d made a show of harassing women and spewing all kinds of ignorant crap the whole bloody night, but the headline of the moment was that the ‘rebel prince’ had struck again. His superiors were furious, and he was punished accordingly, but it was his brother, the King, who had dealt the harshest blow.

“You set one more foot out of line and I will bring you back home. If you’re going to make a spectacle of yourself, you’ll damn well do it somewhere our mother doesn’t have to worry about your safety.”

That was enough to set Killian to rights, because despite the seemingly charmed nature of his life, home was synonymous with hardship and discomfort. Being royalty was a constant burden of saving face and proper manners. He loved his brother, his mother, and his Gran, but they fit into that world with ease and a natural charm he didn’t possess. They loved shaking hands and kissing babies, took great pride in parades and national addresses, and knew how to ‘operate society.’ Killian, on the other hand, couldn’t stand it. He never blended well, never trusted easy. He’d met one too many snakes in Montenarro’s royal court and he didn’t need any more lessons on the hidden intentions people carried. It would sound mad to the average person, but there was a similar sense of dread he shared on deployment and at home, and on the good days, when he and his men were all safe with a job well done, he was vastly happier in his profession than in his personal life at home. At least he felt like he was serving something, and participating in a duty that was bigger than hollow gestures and picture perfect moments.

“The most important thing is no one’s dead,” Tink murmured from her spot on the other side of the hold. She was damn right about that. “We made it through another tour and I, for one, am out of here.”

“Olive will be glad to have you home, love,” Graham stated, patting their friend on the arm a few times in a signal to her extra sacrifice made these long months.

The mention of Tink’s daughter made her smile and in any other person tears no doubt would have shown in their eyes at the mention of such a reunion, but not Tink. This woman might be the smallest of their platoon but she was the fiercest and honestly the smartest. She was also brave as could be and composed at every moment. He’d asked her once how she could manage that, given everything that they saw and went through. Every one of them had moments of grave impact, where the stress or straight out fear crept in and took root, but not Tink. Her response was simply stated though it seemed impossible to comprehend:

‘When you have a reason to get home, a part of you that needs you, you don’t have the luxury of breaking down. Everything I have needs to go towards one thing – surviving. I have to get back for her and she matters more than everything else. No matter what I see here, she’s my beacon home.”

“The day I left, I promised her that this was my last tour,” Tink said, surprising everyone except for Killian with the revelation. She’d confided in him about her plan to leave their unit a few months back, and when the paperwork needed to get to higher ups to unenlist from front-line duty he helped her, knowing she was owed that after years of faithful service to the crown. “I didn’t want to mention it because I knew exactly what you’d all say.”

“You’re leaving us?” Will asked and the tone in his voice was like someone had kicked him in the gut. For someone so full of bluster, he caved in quick, and while Graham and Robin didn’t sound quite so stricken, they too were surprised.

“I took a land command. You’re looking at the royal navy’s newest pencil pusher,” she said with a huge grin. “Six years ago I’d have laughed in your face if you told me how happy that would make me.”

“But that was before,” Killian said, understanding her instinct to be with her daughter and the change she needed to make her family whole again.

“You always get it, Cap. But what about you – you think you’ve got another tour left in you?”

Ah shit. Here was the moment of truth. He couldn’t lie when faced with Tink’s question, but he had been denying the inevitable even to himself for so long. Every tour his brother told him this would be the last one, but every time he waivered when Killian returned and asked to leave once more. Killian had been serving for more than fifteen years now, a decorated Captain who had earned his own way and proven his merit. He knew he was well respected and highly capable, but that would stop meaning anything to Liam soon. No matter how good a Captain Killian was, his duty, as Liam saw it, was to be the prince and the second in line. He had obligations at home, and as loathed as that life was, Killian considered himself lucky. His family had given him the freedom of finding something more like normal all these years. Here, with his crew, he was normal. He wasn’t a monarch, but a man, part of a team even if he was a leader, and there was no bull shit muss or fuss. Now that would likely end, but despite wishing he could come back, Killian was grateful for what he’d been able to do and the friends he’d been able to meet.

“I serve at the pleasure of the King,” Killian hedged. “But I think it likely my assignments will be changing this go around.”

“What he means to say is he’ll be dodging the ladies at court and fending off those investment cats always vying for access to the royal purse,” Graham joked. Killian only shrugged, not able to contradict the man, as he was probably dead on.

“I’d take the desert twice over before I took that shit,” Will said, and for once, Killian had to agree with him, but it didn’t matter either way.

Soon enough the plane that was flying them back to base was prepared to land. Their descent was easy, but the feelings that Killian grappled with were not. There was relief of course when the doors opened and they were back on land. They’d been serving in dangerous places, running on borrowed time with too many close calls. Even the plain façade of their base near the capital couldn’t hide the beauty of Montenarro. Many people called this country too small to notice, but what it lacked for in size, it made up for in location. Nestled on the Mediterranean, with a range of coastlines and mountain range, this nation lived in a world that was warm and where the sun shone brightly and often. Today, the coast was clear and glorious, but the mountains weren’t far and the foot hills were lush this time of year. The greenery around them was a luxury compared to the barren wastelands they’d been encamped in, but beyond the walls of this military compound lay his real life. When he left this place, he stopped being Hook, or Cap, or even Killian. He had to be someone else, and the weight of that shifted the peace within him to something frenzied and on guard.

With a swift but genuine regard he bid all his brothers and sister in arms goodbye, and handed in his papers and his weapons with the higher-ups. By the time he made it outside, headed to his personal barracks where he needed to collect some personal items, a royal enclave was ready for him and their head of security, Jefferson, was already waiting.

“Your things have been gathered, Your Highness. We’re ready to ship out.”

“So help me Jefferson if you start that Highness crap already -,”

“Sorry, sir.”

Killian sighed at the lingering formality but it was a small improvement and it wasn’t actually Jefferson’s fault. If the man waivered from formal titles surely Liam would hear of it, and his elder brother was no fan of abandoning tradition. Why he’d even let Killian serve all these years was beyond him, but Killian expected Liam knew that without an outlet and a feeling of normalcy, Killian would have lost himself long ago.

The ride through the city’s center was long, but Killian barely took it in despite looking out his window. He’d seen this route a million times, and it might be lovely, but it was a signal of returning to a state he didn’t like. The only part of the drive he found favor in was seeing the people around them, and from all looks and appearance, the citizens of their small nation were happy and well. People were out and about, children were playing, families were gathered and enjoying the spring day. Everyone was partaking in this first sweet taste of summer and their worlds seemed calm and bright. As a ruler that was the only thing a King could wish for, and Killian felt that call too even as Prince. Their roles meant nothing if the people were not served – but under Liam’s watchful and ever attentive eye, it made sense that they would be happy. They were surely headed towards another prosperous year, and, as Killian had always known, the nation had never been in better, more capable hands.

By the time they reached the city’s far edge and the golden gates of his family’s castle rose before them, Killian was at war with himself. On the one hand he was edgy from what was yet to come, but he was also glad to be back, to see his mother and grandmother, and even his brother. At the end of the day he loved his family, he knew that they worried for him every day he’d been away, and he’d be glad that coming home could bring them comfort. He mindfully made the choice to choose their happiness over his own for the time being, and as he exited the limousine, he schooled his features in a smile which widened at the sight of who was waiting at the door.

“Oh, my little Killy. You’re home at last.”

To the rest of the world, his grandmother was the dowager Queen and a force to be reckoned with. She was a high society lady, the former ruler of this nation, and a fierce advocate for the throne, but to Killian she was just his Gran, a charming, insightful, sometimes crafty older woman with too much love in her heart to ever perish. She was pushing 90 years old but here she was, the first to greet him and moving about like she was thirty years younger. She came straight to Killian, ignoring his polite bow and instead pulling him in for a warm embrace. How a woman so tiny could still possess such strength, he’d never know, but he had a fleeting though that she and Tink would get along before his grandmother pulled back with a mist of tears in her eyes.

“Did you miss me that much, Gran?” he teased, fending off his own wayward emotion at being reunited with one of his favorite people. “I thought I was just a load of trouble wrapped up in a charming giftwrap.”

“Oh hush. I said that to you one time – one time! And you never let me forget it. I mean truly, my dear, what was I supposed to say? You got into your cousin Sienna’s wedding cake and ate damn near half on your own before the reception could even start. Chef nearly perished at the sight of it.”

“I was a kid, Gran.”

“You were old enough to know better. But you could see what a menace that foolish Count was, no doubt. Can’t say I blame you for your actions now, given everything.”

Everything in this case was a huge scandal strewn across the tabloids. Sienna, who was actually quite a distant cousin, but still of royal lineage, was a rather stand-offish woman who had married more for status than for love. Unfortunately that status was tarnished less than ten years later when her now ex-husband was revealed as a philanderer and not a cautious one. It was a mess of paparazzi fodder, but to Killian it wasn’t all that bad, not after what they’d gone through with his father.

“Honestly I just wanted cake,” Killian admitted, shaking off thoughts of the man who’d wronged them long ago and his Gran grinned, none the wiser.

“Well there will be plenty of it now that you’re home. Your mother has planned a whole host of events, and before you get all stodgy and upset, you remember what every day has been like since you were last home. Poor Meera’s been fussing with that rosary damn near twenty times a day.”

Killian felt a pang of guilt hearing that, but his grandmother ignored his stricken look, pulling him inside. Immediately in the entryway he found his mother and Liam and the rest of the household staff set to greet them. He saw the joy in his mother’s eyes, and a clear sense of relief in Liam’s and he knew, even without words or actions, that he was truly missed and very much loved. Still he glanced back at his Gran, quirking up a brow to silently ask her why she wasn’t part of the precession.

“When you get to be my age, my dear, the formalities start to seem rather pointless. I wasn’t waiting an extra second to see my grandson, and your brother has the good sense to let me be.”

“Anyone who lacked that sense risks a fate worse than death, I’m sure,” Liam said dryly, but he spared a smile for their Gran all the same and allowed the old woman to swat at his arm like he was a pesky fly instead of the reigning monarch. “It’s good to see you home, brother.”

“It’s good to be with you all again,” Killian said, choosing his words carefully. He was not interested in lying to his family. They had enough to grapple with from the world around them, the least they owed each other was transparency. His mother certainly seemed to agree, and the tears she’d no doubt held in for months streamed down her still lovely face as she pulled him in close and hugged him far tighter than a royal mother should. Here was his mother in truth, not the part she played in public spaces, and despite their appearance in front of the staff, she doted on him like any good Mum should.

“You’re okay, darling? No bad scrapes this time?” Her tone grew warbly and Killian again felt the tug of guilt for what he put his family through in doing what he loved. He couldn’t regret his choice to serve and stake his own path, but he knew what a toll it took on his mother, and that was regrettable. On one of his first deployments he’d been injured pretty badly and he bore the scars along his back and side to prove it, but nothing vital had been hit, thank god, and as soon as he was healed he’d been ready to go out again. It almost broke his mother, but she was a strong woman, stronger than any he had ever known.

“A few nicks, Mum. Nothing serious.”

“Oh thank God. And now you’re home for good at last.”

Killian looked to Liam for confirmation and his brother shook his head. “Let’s not go there yet.” Liam pulled him in for a hug of his own, one of a special design they’d shared since he was but a boy and again Killian felt the true affection of his brother. They may be men of very different stripes, but Liam was a part of him and who he was. He was his elder brother and the closest thing Killian had to a father figure. His love meant the world to him, and so too did his approval.

“So, Gran mentioned some festivities. Have I time before the circus, or will it descend immediately?”

“Circus?” His mother asked, clearly confused before looking at her mother-in-law with amusement. “I think your grandmother is up to her old tricks. We don’t have anything planned. It’s just us and your favorite dinner. Just how you like it.”

Thank God for that, Killian thought to himself before turning to his grandmother who looked like a spoiled tyke at Christmas. She was so pleased with her little fake-out, she actually clasped her hands together.

“The Americans call it ‘punking’ someone. Such a garish word, but it does have its merits.”

“Still no hobbies to be found, Gran?” Killian asked, knowing that his grandmother was a busy body, and she needed a lot of occupation or she risked being… well, like this.

“Who needs the bloody things?” Gran said, swearing so brashly it made Killian choke on his drink and his mother gasp. “I do what is needed. You needed a good joke upon arriving home so I did what I could to provide one.”

“Gran’s taken to jokes of late,” Liam explained and Killian suddenly wanted very much to know what the old bird had been up to. From his brother’s expression, she’d gotten him good, and Killian would pay to see that.

“I tried to get it on tape, but that blasted Jefferson took my phone spouting all sorts of nonsense about royal protocol,” his Gran said, reading his mind. “But regardless, your dear brother knows perfectly well that I have plenty of occupation with the foundation. So much work that needs doing there. It must be constantly tended to, just like your mother’s roses.”

“I don’t remember it being so much,” Killian remarked, not even really remembering that the family had a foundation at all. It was more an endowment, a way to give the vastness of their wealth to worthy causes. But writing checks surely couldn’t take such effort.

“Well I’ve had to change it, haven’t I? If I was going to build something worthy of your attention, it had to do real good. It’s much more hands on now, you see. I might be in my twilight years, but I can still get my hands dirty.”

And there it was. He was wondering what the plan would be. He assumed he’d be added to Liam’s counsels and propped up as a family focal piece, the returning hero back home at last. But even without fully understanding the intention, Killian could see an earnest excitement in his grandmother’s eyes. Whatever the foundation had become, she was trying to build something for him, and if he could have a purpose beyond the face of a royal family, he’d be eternally grateful.

“So I really am home for good then?” Killian asked, broaching the uncomfortable topic once more as Liam considered him from the other end of the table. After a beat of quiet, Liam replied.

“I’ve spoken with our heads of command. The conflicts we’re involved in are winding down and while the Americans continue their crusade in the Middle East, our time of service there is drawing to a close. We’re shifting back to more diplomatic measures, and what’s left to fight can be handled by your fellow soldiers I think.”

“The country is in good hands,” Killian agreed and though it hurt to think that he was truly finished with his service, he was prepared for such an outcome. Liam would not demand that Killian leave. He was never so authoritarian, but this suggestion spoke volumes and Killian, much as he might be tempted, would not go against his brothers wishes.

“If they’ve been trained by you then it certainly is,” his mother agreed fiercely and Killian laughed. Her statement was not at all based in first-hand knowledge. She had never seen him in the field, rarely even seen him in his military context at all, but she still staunchly believed in him. It was appreciated, but comical all the same.

“And the foundation? What exactly is it doing these days?”

“Well by god, what aren’t we doing? There’s so much to do you see. We’ve been funding all sorts of new energies so we can be ‘green and clean,’” His Gran chirped happily. “We’ve expanded our species protection efforts with the ministry of parks and wildlife. I went on a whale watch with the Duchess of Mandrey. It was just marvelous. We wore, oh what, do they call them…? Oh right, ponchos! We’re working with the ministry of health to create community gardens not just to teach the children but to feed the people. You should see what we’ve done in the cities, Killy. We’ve built these centers with the soil and the supplies. The little ones love it -,”

“Clearly there’s quite a few balls in the air as it were,” Killian’s mother said, gently interrupting his grandmother’s exuberant storytelling. “But we were thinking, I mean if it works for you, that whenever you’re settled back in you might look at one particular part of the organization. Get a more hands on feel for something and truly learn the workings of the charity.”

“Did you have an idea of which one?”

“The Montenarro Children’s Sanctuary,” his Gran replied with total assuredness, and to his amazement, she produced a pamphlet (would wonders ever cease?) from somewhere under the table to hand to him. “Got that from the front desk last week. It’s all in there, dear, and the children are just precious. You’ve always loved the little ones, so it’s a perfect fit.”

“Have I?” Killian asked, not sure if he’d ever shown that predisposition. He always liked interacting with the children in the extended family when they came for holidays and events, but that was hardly a background in working with kids.

“Of course you have. You have such a way with them, and these children, well my dear, they just need someone like you so much. It’s a wonderful opportunity to make a difference.”

Killian knew she must be right, and he felt, despite his hesitations and the urge to reject someone else planning out his life, that this may indeed be a good fit for him for now. He never would have chosen such a charity first, thinking himself a bit understudied in the ways of children, but it certainly couldn’t hurt to give it a try, and his family was right, he needed something to do, something that actually felt like it mattered. After living for years with a purpose he couldn’t waste his time doing things he felt were frivolous. If he did he might go mad.

“I’ll go on one condition,” Killian said and they all considered him, clearly surprised he would accept at all and that he was handling his military retirement so well. “No one at that organization is calling me Prince Killian, Your Highness or any of that. I’ll go by Killian. That’s it.”

“But dear that’s -,”

“Before you say it’s not possible, Mum, just think for a minute about the work they do there and the kids in that scenario. This is a home for orphans and children who can’t be cared for in traditional means. They don’t have present families, they don’t have anything to call their own. They might know I am prince, but I don’t want them to feel the difference between us. You want me to help somehow? I don’t know how to truly help people when we’re separate or unequal. I never mastered that. It’s not how I work.”

“It’s just a title, Killy,” his Gran said sadly but he was holding firm. He wanted this for the kids and for himself. He’d dedicate himself to helping in this way, but he wanted at least a feeling of something normal, something that was his and not the crown’s. He looked to Liam, awaiting his brother’s verdict, and after a brief consideration his brother nodded.

“It seems reasonable enough. But only at the foundation. To the rest of the world you are, and always will be, Prince.”

“Fair enough,” Killian agreed. “Now, any chance we’ve got some cake?”

At the joke, everyone laughed, but low and behold there was cake to be had. And though his life was shifting radically, and he might not be on the most solid of ground right now, Killian felt hopeful that things might just work out in the end. Soon enough he’d be a part of something again, and he hoped quite sincerely to make a difference and make a change for the people he served, and in truth, for himself as well.

…………………..

Hours after their meal, and long after her son had headed up to his wing of the palace, Queen Meera looked out her large antique window to the full moon out tonight. She thanked the heavens that her son was back home safe. After so many years of fighting, and being in the thick of too many international skirmishes, he was finally back and all in one piece. Every night she’d prayed for his safety and for his health. She prayed he would be protected and smart out there doing God knows what. But she also prayed that he would feel peace, when she knew peace was a luxury for her youngest boy he wasn’t usually graced with. Recently she’d added a few more prayers as well, ones that would keep him open to the changes coming in all of their lives. She was grateful at dinner that he was receptive to the prospect put before him of working for the family foundation. So far the plan was working, and she sent up another prayer that the rest would fall into place too.

Perhaps it would be strange to some that she was doing this, trying to craft a future for her beloved son when he was a fully-grown man, but she knew down in her soul that Killian needed the guidance. He was a good man, a strong man, a man bound by honor and compassion, but her son was always closed off, especially when it came to matters of the heart. There were many reasons for that, a few near-misses in love, and all the attention that their family brought forward, but the real reason underneath it all stemmed from the sins of his father, a man Meera once felt love for, who blessed her with two children and promptly threw the life they built together all away.

Prince Brennan had always been notorious. A party boy, a man of mischief. He never met trouble he didn’t like the look of, but his people and his family still believed him to be fundamentally good if a bit lacking in maturity. He was set to inherit the throne as the only child of the King and Queen, and through a twist of fate Meera and him had met and fallen in love. Meera was a common girl, with no connections, and no wealth to speak of, but it hadn’t mattered to Brennan. In fact, in hindsight, he probably wanted her even more because of it. They stole away as many moments as they could, and then one day he told her they were getting married. He never asked, he just informed her, and she went along with it, knowing she loved him even if she was scared of trying to be part of his world. She thought he’d bring her home to meet his family, thought he’d seek their approval, but Brennan had a mind of his own, and that night they eloped.

Only when they were legally man and wife did he bring her home and the fall out had been immense. His father, King Rupert, was furious, but the ire never was directed at her. It was Brennan who the King and Queen were mad at, and Meera couldn’t understand why. If King Rupert and Queen Eleanor truly liked her, why be so angry? Why chastise him as they did? Only a year later, after the birth of her eldest son, Liam, did she realize why; Brennan was flighty and irresponsible. He couldn’t commit to things, he never devoted himself to anything forever. He was bad at making decisions, at paying attention, and he had a total disregard for his impending role as ruler of Montenarro. If someone even hinted at his impending responsibility to the people of this country he went running as fast and as far as he could. Still Meera believed he loved her and that even if he couldn’t give all of himself to his duty, he could be there for her and their children. After trying for seven more years to give Liam some siblings, they were blessed to have Killian, and only after her second son’s birth did the truth fully come into focus. Marriage hadn’t actually meant to Brennan what it meant to her. In her eyes, they were meant to be partners, meant to love each other, and honor each other, but he couldn’t do it. He grew resentful and unruly, and ultimately, unfaithful.

It was an awful time, to be sure, and for Killian, it ended up being all he knew of his father. She kept everything she could from both of her sons, but somehow things always got out. The media had a field day at each and every instance, and then, when it got so bad and so brutal, Meera decided she must go. She and her sons could stay here no longer. Not with Brennan here. Shockingly, when she told Eleanor and Rupert of her plans they told her it was not her place to leave. It was Brennan who must make a choice – shape up and make amends to his wife and to his family, or leave, forsaking his thrown, his power, and all inheritance as he did. Brennan knew in an instant what he wanted, and so he left, but not before Killian and Liam heard him yelling and carrying on. At only six years of age Killian watched his father leave them all, with nothing like regret, and then, a few days later they found that Brennan had died in an accident, the product of reckless choices finally catching up with him.

Explaining to her sons how their father’s actions had no influence on who they were was so hard. Liam seemed to know this, but he channeled his pain into being the perfect heir. He put so much pressure on himself to be a wonderful king and a wonderful son. She worried about that and she was trying every day to help manage that as best she could. But Killian was far more sensitive. He was sweet and thoughtful and bold all at once. He had the biggest heart and he wanted so badly to wear it on his sleeve. But he didn’t. He closed himself off, and then he’d gone into the royal navy and Meera was devastated. She was always worried sick for her son, but what could she say? She saw in him a burst of that vitality and that light in his eyes when he was away. Even in the midst of chaos, Killian was at peace. Why? Because he could be himself. He’d found a place he felt safe, in some of the most unsafe places around the world. Now, though, he was coming back and this was not a place he felt that freedom. With them of course he had trust, but with everyone else she knew his walls would come right back up, steadfast as ever and impenetrable to most.

That was why she was doing this. She wanted a chance to open Killian up to more, to prompt her son towards something he deserved but had always run from: love. She knew he’d be hesitant, and only the perfect kind of woman could bring him to a place where he could be himself, so she’d been looking. It was practically her job to meet people all the time, to come into contact with royals and commoners alike, but she never had much hope. No one felt right, no one seemed perfect until a few weeks ago. Eleanor had returned from one of her outings with the foundation, from the children’s sanctuary, and slapped down a folder with a simple statement.

“I found the girl. Killian’s sweetheart. I know she’s the one.”

Meera was so excited, and she opened the folder without second thought. Sure enough the woman in the file was beautiful, and surprising. She was an American and pretty as could be, clearly smart as she was here on a fellowship grant from the local University. And she had a son. There were all sorts of details about how the school had made arrangements for them because she was such a promising fellow. She was gifted with children and had her own experience with being an orphan as well. Meera planned to go the next day with Eleanor to see for herself, but Eleanor said she wasn’t there. When Meera realized Eleanor never even seen the girl she was horrified. It was one thing to be looking for potential suitors for her son, but people they’d never even met? That seemed like a bridge too far.

“She’ll be here in two weeks. The Sanctuary director couldn’t stop talking about how excited they were for this year’s candidate and one thing lead to another… but that’s the way these things go sometimes.”

It was not the way things usually went, and Meera knew that, but she had never regretted following Eleanor’s instincts before. If her mother-in-law believed in this, then she felt that she should too. And besides, their goal here was a good one – all they wanted was two worthy people to fall in love, after all. What was really the harm in that? Meera just didn’t know, and that was the problem which had been keeping her up for more than a few nights now.

“You are worrying too much, Meera. It will all turn out exactly as it’s meant to,” Eleanor said, having walked into the room with such silence Meera never once detected her.

“You really think it’ll happen?” Meera asked, not even bothering to hide her anxiety.

“Think it’ll happen? My love, he’s as handsome as can be, a Captain of the navy, a hero of war, and has a heart of gold. Any woman worth her salt is going to take one look at him and fall straight in love. Meanwhile he’s going to take one look at this Swan girl and you know what he’s going to do? He’s going to see forever in an instant. His heart will beat for her, and love will stake a claim from the very first moment. Cupid will have quite a simple task of it, you mark my words.”

“You make it all sound so…”

“Romantic? Blissful?”

“I was going to say theatrical.”

“Love at first sight has long been slandered, but still it exists. People find it every day, and many times when they know, they just know.”

“I just want him to be happy,” Meera admitted looking down at her hands. That was all she ever wanted as a mother, for her sons to be well and whole and good.

“And he will be,” Eleanor said, grasping Meera’s hand in a sign of comfort. “He will be happy. He will find exactly what he’s missing. You just have to trust and believe, my dear. It’s all any of us can do.”

Meera nodded, deciding to believe that this would work, and to accept the older woman’s sage counsel, despite its fairytale influence. She wished that with this tiny little push in the right direction, her son would find his happiness with a woman of substance, and good will, and heart. From what they’d discovered, Meera truly believed such a love could be found with this one special woman, Emma Swan, and she only hoped that Killian and Emma were ready and willing to take a chance. But alas, nothing but time would tell, and now all they could do was wait and see…

Post-Note: So there we have it. It was a lot of background I know, about Killian and his family and his past. But I hope you’ll see a bit more of the world I’m building and that it will eventually add to the meeting CS will have coming in the next chapter. As for Killian’s meddling Mom and Gran… what can I say? I missed having some meddlers in my AUs. I have lots still left in store for this story, and as always I can’t wait to see what you guys think. Thanks again so much for reading, and I hope you all have a lovely rest of your day!

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cannedpoo · 4 years ago

Photo

Anaïs Nin was an essayist and memoirist born to Cuban parents in France, where she was also raised. She spent some time in Spain and Cuba but lived most of her life in the United States where she became an established author. Wikipedia

Born: February 21, 1903, Neuilly-sur-Seine, France

Died: January 14, 1977, Los Angeles, CA

Dreams pass into the reality of action.

From the actions stems the dream again;

and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.

- Anais Nin

There are very few human beings who receive the truth,

complete and staggering, by instant illumination.

Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment,

on a small scale, by successive developments,

cellularly, like a laborious mosaic.

- Anais Nin

No more walls.

- Anais Nin

Age does not protect you from love.

But love, to some extent, protects you from age.

- Anais Nin

Life is truly known only to those who suffer,

lose, endure adversity and stumble from defeat to defeat.

- Anais Nin

Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious,

and they must be brought into connection with action.

They must be woven together.

- Anais Nin

When we blindly adopt a religion,

a political system, a literary dogma,

we become automatons. We cease to grow.

- Anais Nin

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.

- Anais Nin

Anything I can not transform

into something marvelous, I let go.

- Anais Nin

Good things happen to those who hustle.

- Anais Nin

I say all that happens is wonderful.

- Anais Nin

When ordinary life shackles me,

I escape, one way or another. No more walls.

- Anais Nin

The only abnormality is the incapacity to love.

- Anais Nin

When you make a world tolerable for yourself,

you make a world tolerable for others.

- Anais Nin

We travel, some of us forever, to seek

other states, other lives, other souls.

- Anais Nin

Dreams are necessary to life.

- Anais Nin

What I cannot love, I overlook.

Is that real friendship?

- Anais Nin

Do not seek the because -

in love there is no because,

no reason, no explanation, no solutions.

- Anais Nin

I know why families were created with all their imperfections.

They humanize you.

They are made to make you forget yourself occasionally,

so that the beautiful balance of life is not destroyed.

- Anais Nin

Throw your dreams into space like a kite,

and you do not know what it will bring back,

a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.

- Anais Nin

Each friend represents a world in us,

a world possibly not born until they arrive,

and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

- Anais Nin

Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious,

one should preserve it.

- Anais Nin

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because

we don't know how to replenish its source.

It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals.

It dies of illness and wounds;

it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.

- Anais Nin

Anxiety is love's greatest killer.

It makes one feel as you might

when a drowning man holds unto you.

You want to save him, but you know

he will strangle you with his panic.

- Anais Nin

I, with a deeper instinct,

choose a man who compels my strength,

who makes enormous demands on me,

who does not doubt my courage or my toughness,

who does not believe me naive or innocent,

who has the courage to treat me like a woman.

- Anais Nin

Love men and women not for their strength

but their softness,

not for their fullness but their hunger,

not for their plenty but their need.

- Anais Nin

(paraphrase)

I have the right to love many people at once

and to change my prince often.

- Anais Nin

Reality doesn't impress me.

- Anais Nin

Music melts all the separate parts of our bodies together.

- Anais Nin

Reality doesn't impress me.

I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy,

and when ordinary life shackles me,

I escape, one way or another.

No more walls.

- Anais Nin

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all,

there is only the meaning we each give to our life,

an individual meaning, an individual plot,

like an individual novel, a book for each person.

- Anais Nin

People living deeply have no fear of death.

- Anais Nin

The personal life deeply lived

always expands into truths beyond itself.

- Anais Nin

If what Proust says is true,

that happiness is the absence of fever,

then I will never know happiness.

For I am possessed by a fever

for knowledge, experience, and creation.

- Anais Nin

The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say,

but what we are unable to say.

- Anais Nin

There are many ways to be free. One of them is to transcend

reality by imagination, as I try to do.

- Anais Nin

I postpone death by living, by suffering,

by error, by risking, by giving, by loving.

- Anais Nin

Living never wore one out

so much as the effort not to live.

- Anais Nin

The poet is one who is able to keep

the fresh vision of the child alive.

- Anais Nin

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud

was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

- Anais Nin

Ordinary life does not interest me.

I seek only the high moments.

I am in accord with the surrealists,

searching for the marvelous.

- Anais Nin

I am so thirsty for the marvelous

that only the marvelous has power over me.

- Anais Nin

The dream was always running ahead of me.

To catch up, to live for a moment

in unison with it, that was the miracle.

- Anais Nin

We don't have a language for the senses.

Feelings are images,

sensations are like musical sounds.

- Anais Nin

I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness.

- Anais Nin

It's all right for a woman to be, above all, human.

I am a woman first of all.

- Anais Nin

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically.

We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another, unevenly.

We grow partially. We are relative.

We are mature in one realm, childish in another.

- Anais Nin

To write is to descend, to excavate, to go underground.

- Anais Nin

Jazz is the music of the body.

- Anais Nin

I made no resolutions for the New Year.

The habit of making plans, of criticizing, sanctioning

and molding my life, is too much of a daily event for me.

- Anais Nin

The final lesson a writer learns is that

everything can nourish the writer.

The dictionary, a new word, a voyage, an encounter,

a talk on the street, a book, a phrase learned.

- Anais Nin

I am an excitable person who only

understands life lyrically, musically,

in whom feelings are much stronger as reason.

- Anais Nin

If all of us acted in unison as I act individually

there would be no wars and no poverty.

I have made myself personally responsible

for the fate of every human being who has come my way.

- Anais Nin

I will not be just a tourist in the world of images,

just watching images passing by which I cannot live in,

make love to, possess as permanent sources of joy and ecstasy.

- Anais Nin

My diary is a mirror telling the story of a dreamer who,

a long long time ago went through life the way one reads a book.

- Anais Nin

We write to taste life twice,

in the moment, and in retrospection.

- Anais Nin

I am in a beautiful prison from which

I can only escape by writing.

- Anais Nin

A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning,

as if supported by the rays of the sun,

a bird settled on the fire escape,

joy in the task of coffee,

joy accompanied me as I walked.

- Anais Nin

The body is an instrument which

only gives off music when it is used as a body.

Always an orchestra, and just as music traverses walls,

so sensuality traverses the body and reaches up to ecstasy.

- Anais Nin

If you do not breathe through writing,

if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing,

then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.

- Anais Nin

I write emotional algebra.

- Anais Nin

Truth is something which can't be told in a few words.

Those who simplify the universe

only reduce the expansion of its meaning.

- Anais Nin

It is the function of art to renew our perception.

What we are familiar with we cease to see.

The writer shakes up the familiar scene,

and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it.

- Anais Nin

My ideas usually come not at my desk writing

but in the midst of living.

- Anais Nin

How wrong is it for women to expect

the man to build the world she wants,

rather than set out to create it herself.

- Anais Nin

The child in me could not die as it should have died,

because according too legends it must find its father again.

The old legends knew, perhaps, that in absence

the father becomes glorified, deified, eroticized,

and this outrage against God the Father has to be atoned for.

The human father has to be confronted and recognized as human,

as man who created a child and then, by his absence,

left the child fatherless and then Godless.

- Anais Nin

2 notes · View notes

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Text

NEW LIBRARY MATERIAL September 2020 - February 2021

Bibliography

Sorted by Call Number / Author.

011.7 F

Fadiman, Clifton, 1904-1999. The new lifetime reading plan / : the classical guide to world literature, Revised and expanded. 4th ed. New York : HarperCollins Publishers, 1999, c1997.

155.2 G

Gladwell, Malcolm, 1963-. David and Goliath : underdogs, misfits, and the art of battling giants. First edition. Goliath : "Am I a dog that you should come to me with sticks?" -- The Advantages of Disadvantages (and the Disadvantages of Advantages). Vivek Ranadiv©♭: "It was really random. I mean, my father had never played basketball before." ; Teresa DeBrito: "My largest class was twenty-nine kids. Oh, it was fun." ; Caroline Sacks: "If I'd gone to the University of Maryland, I'd still be in science. -- The Theory of Desirable Difficulty. David Boies: You wouldn't wish dyslexia on your child. Or would you? ; Emil "Jay" Freireich: "How Jay did it, I don't know." ; Wyatt Walker: "De rabbit is de slickest o' all de animals de Lawd ever made." -- The Limits of Power. Rosemary Lawlor: "I wasn't born that way. This was forced upon me." ; Wilma Derksen: "We have all done something dreadful in our lives, or have felt the urge to." ; Andr©♭ Trocm©♭: "We feel obliged to tell you that there are among us a certain number of Jews.". This book uncovers the hidden rules that shape the balance between the weak and the mighty and the powerful and the dispossessed. In it the author challenges how we think about obstacles and disadvantages, offering a new interpretation of what it means to be discriminated against, or cope with a disability, or lose a parent, or attend a mediocre school, or suffer from any number of other apparent setbacks. He begins with the real story of what happened between the giant and the shepherd boy (David and Goliath) those many years ago. From there, the book examines Northern Ireland's Troubles, the minds of cancer researchers and civil rights leaders, murder and the high costs of revenge, and the dynamics of successful and unsuccessful classrooms, all to demonstrate how much of what is beautiful and important in the world arises from what looks like suffering and adversity. -- From book jacket.

170 H

Haidt, Jonathan, author. The happiness hypothesis : finding modern truth in ancient wisdom. Paperback edition. "The Happiness Hypothesis is a book about ten Great Ideas. Each chapter is an attempt to savor one idea that has been discovered by several of the world's civilizations--to question it in light of what we now know from scientific research, and to extract from it the lessons that still apply to our modern lives and illuminate the causes of human flourishing. Award-winning psychologist Jonathan Haidt shows how a deeper understanding of the world's philosophical wisdom and its enduring maxims--like "do unto others as you would have others do unto you," or "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger"--can enrich and even transform our lives."--Back cover.

171 K

Kohn, Alfie. The brighter side of human nature : altruism and empathy in everyday life. New York : Basic Books, c1990.

305.5 W

Wilkerson, Isabel, author. Caste : the origins of our discontents. First edition. The man in the crowd -- Toxins in the permafrost and heat rising all around -- The arbitrary construction of human divisions -- The eight pillars of caste -- The tentacles of caste -- The consequences of caste -- Backlash -- Awakening -- Epilogue: A world without caste. "In this brilliant book, Isabel Wilkerson gives us a masterful portrait of an unseen phenomenon in America as she explores, through an immersive, deeply researched narrative and stories about real people, how America today and throughout its history has been shaped by a hidden caste system, a rigid hierarchy of human rankings. Beyond race, class, or other factors, there is a powerful caste system that influences people's lives and behavior and the nation's fate. Linking the caste systems of America, India, and Nazi Germany, Wilkerson explores eight pillars that underlie caste systems across civilizations, including divine will, bloodlines, stigma, and more. Using riveting stories about people--including Martin Luther King, Jr., baseball's Satchel Paige, a single father and his toddler son, Wilkerson herself, and many others--she shows the ways that the insidious undertow of caste is experienced every day. She documents how the Nazis studied the racial systems in America to plan their out-cast of the Jews; she discusses why the cruel logic of caste requires that there be a bottom rung for those in the middle to measure themselves against; she writes about the surprising health costs of caste, in depression and life expectancy, and the effects of this hierarchy on our culture and politics. Finally, she points forward to ways America can move beyond the artificial and destructive separations of human divisions, toward hope in our common humanity. Beautifully written, original, and revealing, Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents is an eye-opening story of people and history, and a reexamination of what lies under the surface of ordinary lives and of America life today."--.

305.8 W

Williamson, Joel. A rage for order : Black/White relations in the American South since emancipation. New York, NY : Oxford University Press, 1968. Full ed.: published as The crucible of race. 1984. Traces the history of race relations, examines changing public attitudes, and tells the stories of those involved in Civil Rights movement.

305.9 P

Pipher, Mary Bray. The middle of everywhere : the world's refugees come to our town. First edition. Cultural collisions on the Great Plains -- The beautiful laughing sisters-an arrival story -- Into the heart of the heartland -- All that glitters ... -- Children of hope, children of tears -- Teenagers--Mohammed meets Madonna -- Young adults--"Is there a marriage broker in Lincoln?"-- Family--"A bundle of sticks cannot be broken" -- African stories -- Healing in all times and places -- Home-a global positioning system for identity -- Building a village of kindness. Offers the tales of refugees who have escaped countries riddled by conflict and ripped apart by war to realize their dream of starting a new life in America, detailing their triumph over adversity.

306.4 P

Pollan, Michael. The botany of desire : a plant's-eye view of the world. Random House trade pbk. ed. New York : Random House, 2002. Desire : sweetness, plant : the apple (Malus domestica) -- Desire : beauty, plant : the tulip (Tulipa) -- Desire : intoxication, plant : marijuana (Cannabis sativa x indica) -- Desire : control, plant : the potato (Solanum tuberosum). Focusing on the human relationship with plants, the author of Second nature uses botany to explore four basic human desires, sweetness, beauty, intoxication, and control, through portraits of four plants that embody them, the apple, tulip, marijuana, and potato. Every school child learns about the mutually beneficial dance of honeybees and flowers; the bee collects nectar and pollen to make honey and, in the process, spreads the flowers' genes far and wide. In The botany of desire, Michael Pollan ingeniously demonstrates how people and domesticated plants have formed a similarly reciprocal relationship. In telling the stories of four familiar species that are deeply woven into the fabric of our lives, Pollan illustrates how the plants have evolved to satisfy humankind's most basic yearnings. And just as we've benefited from these plants, the plants have done well by us. So who is really domesticating whom?.

307.1 I

Immerwahr, Daniel, 1980-. Thinking small : the United States and the lure of community development. First Harvard University Press paperback edition 2018. Cambridge, MA : Harvard University Press, 2015. Preface: Modernization, development, and community -- Introduction: Actually existing localism -- When small was big -- Development without modernization -- Peasantville -- Grassroots empire -- Urban villages -- Epilogue: What is dead and what is undead in community development?.

323.60973 I

In the hands of the people : Thomas Jefferson on equality, faith, freedom, compromise, and the art of citizenship. First edition. New York, NY : Random House, 2020. "Thomas Jefferson believed in the covenant between a government and its citizens, in both the government's responsibilities to its people and also the people's responsibility to the republic. In this illuminating collection, a project of the Thomas Jefferson Foundation, #1 New York Times bestselling author Jon Meacham has gathered Jefferson's most powerful and provocative reflections on the subject, drawn from public speeches and documents as well as his private correspondence. Still relevant centuries later, Jefferson's words provide a manual for U.S. citizenship in the twenty-first century. His thoughts will re-shape and revitalize the way readers relate to concepts including Freedom: "Divided we stand, united we fall." The importance of a free press:"Were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers, or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter." Public education: "Enlighten the public generally, and tyranny and oppressions of body & mind will vanish like evil spirits at the dawn of day." Participation in government: A citizen should be "a participator in the government of affairs not merely at an election, one day in the year, but every day.""-- Provided by publisher.

324.6 P

Terborg-Penn, Rosalyn. African American women in the struggle for the vote, 1850-1920. Bloomington : Indiana University Press, c1998. Revisiting the question of race in the woman suffrage movement -- African American women in the first generation of woman suffragists : 1850-1869 -- African American woman suffragists finding their own voices : 1870s and 1880s -- Suffrage strategies and ideas : African American women leaders respond during "the nadir" -- Mobilizing to win the vote : African American women's organizations -- Anti-black woman suffrage tactics and African American women's responses -- African American women as voters and candidates -- The nineteenth amendment and its meaning for African American women. This study of African American women's roles in the suffrage movement breaks new ground. Rosalyn Terborg-Penn draws from many original documents to take a comprehensive look at the African American women who sought the right to vote. She discovers numerous Black suffragists previously unknown. Analyzing the women's own stories, she examines why they joined the woman suffrage movement in the United States and how they participated in it - with white women, Black men, as members of African American women's organizations, or simultaneously in all three. Terborg-Penn further discusses their various levels of interaction and types of feminist philosophy. Noting that not all African American woman suffragists were from elite circles, Terborg-Penn finds representation from working-class and professional women as well.They came from all parts of the nation. Some employed radical, others conservative means to gain the right to vote. Black women, however, were unified in working to use the ballot to improve not only their own status, but the lives of Black people in their communities. Drawing from innumerable sources, Terborg-Penn argues that sexism and racism prevented African American women from voting and from full participation in the national suffrage movement. Following the ratification of the Nineteenth Amendment, state governments in the South, enacted policies which disfranchised African American women, with many white suffragists closing their eyes to the discriminatory acts. Despite efforts to keep Black women politically powerless, Terborg-Penn contends that the Black suffrage was a source of empowerment. Every political and racial effort to keep African American women disfranchised met with their active resistance until Black women achieved full citizenship.

326.80922 B

Brands, H. W., author. The zealot and the emancipator : John Brown, Abraham Lincoln and the struggle for American freedom. First Edition. Pottawatomie -- Springfield -- Harpers Ferry -- The telegraph office. "What do moral people do when democracy countenances evil? The question, implicit in the idea that people can govern themselves, came to a head in America at the middle of the nineteenth century, in the struggle over slavery. John Brown's answer was violence--violence of a sort some in later generations would call terrorism. Brown was a deeply religious man who heard the God of the Old Testament speaking to him, telling him to do whatever was necessary to destroy slavery. When Congress opened Kansas territory to slavery, the eerily charismatic Brown raised a band of followers to wage war against the evil institution. One dark night his men tore several proslavery settlers from their homes and hacked them to death with broadswords, as a bloody warning to others. Three years later Brown and his men assaulted the federal arsenal at Harpers Ferry, Virginia, with the goal of furnishing slaves with weapons to murder their masters in a race war that would cleanse the nation of slavery once and for all. Abraham Lincoln's answer was politics. Lincoln was an ambitious lawyer and former office-holder who read the Bible not for moral guidance but as a writer's primer. He disliked slavery yet didn't consider it worth shedding blood over. He distanced himself from John Brown and joined the moderate wing of the new, antislavery Republican party. He spoke cautiously and dreamed big, plotting his path to Washington and perhaps the White House. Yet Lincoln's caution couldn't preserve him from the vortex of violence Brown set in motion. Arrested and sentenced to death, Brown comported himself with such conviction and dignity on the way to the gallows that he was canonized in the North as a martyr to liberty. Southerners responded in anger and horror that a terrorist was made into a saint. Lincoln shrewdly threaded the needle of the fracturing country and won election as president, still preaching moderation. But the time for moderation had passed. Slaveholders lumped Lincoln with Brown as an enemy of the Southern way of life; seven Southern states left the Union. Lincoln resisted secession, and the Civil War followed. At first a war for the Union, it became the war against slavery Brown had attempted to start. Before it was over, slavery had been destroyed, but so had Lincoln's faith that democracy can resolve its moral crises peacefully"--.

328.73 M

Meacham, Jon, author. His truth is marching on : John Lewis and the power of hope. First edition. Overture: the last march -- A hard life, a serious life -- The spirit of history -- Soul force -- In the image of God and democracy -- We are going to make you wish you was dead -- I'm going to die here -- This country don't run on love -- Epilogue: against the rulers of the darkness. "John Lewis, who at age twenty-five marched in Selma and was beaten on the Edmund Pettus Bridge, is a visionary and a man of faith. Using intimate interviews with Lewis and his family and deep research into the history of the civil rights movement, Meacham writes of how the activist and leader was inspired by the Bible, his mother's unbreakable spirit, his sharecropper father's tireless ambition, and his teachers in nonviolence, Reverend James Lawson and Martin Luther King, Jr. A believer in hope above all else, Lewis learned from a young age that nonviolence was not only a tactic but a philosophy, a biblical imperative, and a transforming reality. At the age of four, Lewis, ambitious to become a preacher, practiced by preaching to the chickens he took care of. When his mother cooked one of the chickens, the boy refused to eat it--his first act of non-violent protest. Integral to Lewis's commitment to bettering the nation was his faith in humanity and in God, and an unshakable belief in the power of hope. Meacham calls Lewis "as important to the founding of a modern and multiethnic twentieth- and twenty-first century America as Thomas Jefferson and James Madison and Samuel Adams were to the initial creation of the nation-state in the eighteenth century. He did what he did--risking limb and life to bear witness for the powerless in the face of the powerful--not in spite of America, but because of America, and not in spite of religion, but because of religion"--.

333.95 W

Wilson, Edward O. A window on eternity : a biologist's walk through Gorongosa National Park. First Simon & Schuster hardcover edition. Prologue: The Search for Eternity -- The Sacred Mountain of Mozambique -- Once There Were Giants -- War and Redemption -- Dung and Blood -- The Twenty-Foot Crocodile -- The Elephant Whisperer -- The House of Spiders -- The Clash of Insect Civilizations -- The Log of an Entomological Expedition -- The Struggle for Existence -- The Conservation of Eternity. "E.O. Wilson, one of the most celebrated scientists in the United States, shows why biodiversity is vital to the future of Earth and to our own species through the story of an African national park that may be the most diverse place on earth, in a gorgeously illustrated book"--. "The remarkable story of how one of the most biologically diverse habitats in the world was destroyed, restored, and continues to evolve--with stunning, full-color photographs by two of the world's best wildlife photographers. In 1976, Gorongosa National Park was the premier park in Mozambique, boasting one of the densest wildlife populations in all of Africa. Across 1,500 square miles of lush green floodplains, thick palm forests, swampy lakes, and vast plains roamed creatures great and small, from herds of wildebeest and elephant to countless bird species and insects yet to be classified. Then came the civil war of 1978-1992, when much of the ecosystem was destroyed, reducing some large animal populations by 90 percent or more. Due to a remarkable conservation effort sponsored by an American entrepreneur, the park was restored in the 1990s and is now evolving back to its former state. This is the story of that incredible transformation and why such biological diversity is so important. In A Window on Eternity, world-renowned biologist and two-time Pulitzer Prize-winner Edward O. Wilson shows why biodiversity is vital to the future of the Earth, including our human population. It is in places like Gorongosa in Africa, explains Wilson, that our own species evolved. Wilson takes readers to the forested groves of the park's watershed on sacred Mount Gorongosa, then far away to deep gorges along the edge of the Rift Valley, places previously unexplored by biologists, with the aim of discovering new species and assessing their ancient origins. He treats readers to a war between termites and raider ants, describes 'conversations' with elephant herds, and explains the importance of a one-day 'bioblitz.' Praised as 'one of the finest scientists writing today' (Los Angeles Times), Wilson uses the story of Gorongosa to show the significance of biodiversity to humankind"--.

340.092 S

Sligh, Clarissa T., artist. Transforming hate : an artist's book. First edition. "This book evolved from a project for which I folded origami cranes from pages of white supremacist books for the exhibition, Speaking Volumes: Transforming Hate ... I was trying to look at what it was like for me to turn hateful words into a beautiful art object. What actually evolved from that exploration helped me understand more fully the many levels of oppression and violence at the intersections of race, gender, class and sexual orientation." --inside front cover.

343.730 I

Internet law. Amenia, New York : Grey House Publishing, 2020.

345.73 C

Carter, Dan T. Scottsboro : a tragedy of the American South. Rev. ed. Fourth printing. Baton Rouge : Louisiana State University Press, 2007.

349.41 H

Honor©♭, Tony, 1921-2019. About law : an introduction. Reprint: 2013. Law -- History -- Government -- Property -- Contracts and treaties -- Crimes -- Torts -- Forms and procedures -- Interpretation -- Justice -- Does law matter? -- Glossary.

363.73 P

Pollution. New York, NY : Grey House Publishing, 2020.

371.102 A

Agarwal, Pooja K., author. Powerful teaching : unleash the science of learning. First edition. Introduction -- Discover the power behind power tools -- Build a foundation with retrieval practice -- Empower teaching with retrieval practice strategies -- Energize learning with spacing and interleaving -- Engage students with feedback-driven metacognition -- Combine power tools and harness your toolbox -- Keeping it real: use power tools to tackle challenges, not add to them -- Foster a supportive environment: use power tools to reduce anxiety and strengthen community -- Spark conversations with students about the science of learning -- Spark conversations with parents about the science of learning -- Powerful professional development for teachers and leaders -- Do-it-yourself retrieval guide -- Conclusion: unleash the science of learning.

512 G

Algebra. 2004. New York : Springer Science+Business Media, 2004.

575.1 A

Arney, Kat, author. How to code a human. Meet your genome -- Our genetic journey -- How do genes work? -- Under attack! -- Who do you think your are? -- People are not peas -- Genetic superheroes -- Turn me on -- Sticky notes -- The RNA world -- Building a baby -- Wiring the brain -- Compatibility genes -- X and Y -- The viruses that made us human -- When things go wrong -- Human 2.0. "How to Code a Human takes you on a mind-bending journey through the world of the double helix, revealing how our DNA encodes our genes and makes us unique. Covering all aspects of modern genetics from the evolution of our species to inherited diseases, "junk" DNA, genetic engineering and the intricacies of the molecular processes inside our cells, this is an astonishing and insightful guide to the code of life"--Back cover.

598 S

Sibley, David, 1961- author, illustrator. What it's like to be a bird : from flying to nesting, eating to singing -- what birds are doing, and why. How to use this book -- Introduction -- Portfolio of birds -- Birds in this book -- What to do if... -- Becoming a birder. Explore more than two hundred species, and more than 330 new illustrations by the author, in this special, large-format volume, where many of the primary illustrations are reproduced life-sized. While its focus is on familiar backyard birds -- blue jays, nuthatches, chickadees -- What It's Like to Be a Bird also examines certain species that can be fairly easily observed, such as the seashore-dwelling Atlantic Puffin. David Sibley's exacting artwork and wide-ranging expertise bring observed behaviors vividly to life. And while the text is aimed at adults -- including fascinating new scientific research on the myriad ways birds have adapted to environmental changes -- it is nontechnical, making it the perfect occasion for parents and grandparents to share their love of birds with young children, who will delight in the big, full-color illustrations of birds in action. -- back cover.

613.6 C

Bushcraft Illustrated: a visual guide. New York, NY : Simon & Schuster, Inc. (Adams Media: imprint of Simon & Schuster), 2019.

638.1 B

Michael Bush. The Practical beekeeper. Nehawka, Nebraska : X-Star Publishing Company, 2004-2011. V. 1 - The Practical Beekeeing Naturally; V.2 - Intermediate Beekeeping Naturally.

660.6 D

Druker, Steven M., author. Altered genes, twisted truth : how the venture to genetically engineer our food has subverted science, corrupted government, and systematically deceived the public.

709.2 A

Atalay, B©ơlent. Math and the Mona Lisa: : the art and science of Leonardo da Vinci. New York, NY : Smithsonian Books in association with HarperCollins Publishers, 2006. Leonardo was one of history's true geniuses, equally brilliant as an artist, scientist, and mathematician. Following Leonardo's own model, Atalay searches for the internal dynamics of art and science. He provides an overview of the development of science from the dawn of civilization to today's quantum mechanics. From this base, Atalay offers a view into Leonardo's restless intellect and modus operandi, allowing us to see the source of his ideas and to appreciate his art from a new perspective.

741.5 G

Greenberg, Isabel. The encyclopedia of early earth : a graphic novel. First American edition. Love in a very cold climate -- Part 1. The land of Nord. The three sisters of Summer Island ; Beyond the frozen sea ; The gods ; The odyssey begins -- Part 2. Britanitarka. Summer and winter ; Creation ; Medicine man ; The storytellers ; Creation ; Dag and Hal ; The old lady and the giant ; The time of the giants ; The children of the mountain ; The long night ; Dead towns & ghost men -- Part. 3. Migdal Bavel. Migdal Bavel ; The mapmaker of Migdal Bavel ; The bible of Birdman: Genesis ; Bible of Birdman, book of Kiddo: The great flood ; The tower of Migdal Bavel ; The palace of whispers ; The gods #2 -- Part 4. The South Pole. The gods #3 -- Appendices. A brief history of time ; The Nords ; Hunting and fishing ; The 1001 varieties of snow ; The invisible hunter ; Britanitarka ; Birds & beast from early Earth ; The moonstone ; The plucked firebird of Hoo. "Chronicles the explorations of a young man as he paddles from his home in the North Pole to the South Pole. There, he meets his true love, but their romance is ill-fated. Early Earth's unusual and finicky polarity means the lovers can never touch"--Publisher's website.

808.1 G

How poetry can change your heart. San Francisco, CA : Chronicle Books, 2019.

808.5 E

Franklin, Sharon. Essentials of speech communication. Evanston, Ill. : McDougal Littell, 2001.

808.53 H

Hanson, Jim. NTC's dictionary of debate. Lincolnwood, Ill., USA : National Textbook Co., c1990.

808.53 W

Strategic debate. Textbook. Columbus, OH : Glencoe/McGraw-Hill, 2006.

810.8 B

Lepucki, Edan, author. The best American nonrequired reading 2019. This anthology presents a selection of short works from mainstream and alternative American periodicals published in 2019, including nonfiction, screenplays, television writing, fiction, and alternative comics.

815 R

Representative American speeches, 2019-2020. Amenia, New York : Grey House, Publishing, 2020. "Selected from a diverse field of speakers and venues, this volume offers some of the most engaging American speeches of the year. Distinguished by its diversity, covering areas in politics, education, popular culture, as well as trending topics in the news, these speeches provide an interesting format to explore some of the year's most important stories."-Publisher.

909.09 D

Davis, Jack E., 1956- author. The Gulf : the making of an American sea. First edition. Prologue : history, nature, and a forgotten sea -- Introduction : birth -- Part one. Estuaries, and the lie of the land and sea : aborigines and colonizing Europeans. Mounds -- El golfo de M©♭xico -- Unnecessary death -- A most important river, and a "magnificent" bay -- Part two. Sea and sky : American debuts in the nineteenth century. Manifest destiny -- A fishy sea -- The wild fish that tamed the coast -- Birds of a feather, shot together -- Part three. Preludes to the future. From bayside to beachside -- Oil and the Texas toe dip -- Oil and the Louisiana plunge -- Islands, shifting sands of time -- Wind and water -- Part four. Saturation and loss : post-1945. The growth coast -- Florida worry, Texas slurry -- Rivers of stuff -- Runoff, and runaway -- Sand in the hourglass -- Losing the edge -- Epilogue : a success story amid so much else. Significant beyond tragic oil spills and hurricanes, the Gulf has historically been one of the world's most bounteous marine environments, supporting human life for millennia. Based on the premise that nature lies at the center of human existence, Davis takes readers on a compelling and, at times, wrenching journey from the Florida Keys to the Texas Rio Grande, along marshy shorelines and majestic estuarine bays, both beautiful and life-giving, though fated to exploitation by esurient oil men and real-estate developers. Davis shares previously untold stories, parading a vast array of historical characters past our view: sports-fishermen, presidents, Hollywood executives, New England fishers, the Tabasco king, a Texas shrimper, and a New York architect who caught the "big one". Sensitive to the imminent effects of climate change, and to the difficult task of rectifying the assaults of recent centuries, this book suggests how a penetrating examination of a single region's history can inform the country's path ahead. --.

910.92 I

Inskeep, Steve, author. Imperfect union : how Jessie and John Fr©♭mont mapped the West, invented celebrity, and helped cause the Civil War. Aid me with your influence -- The equal merits of differing peoples -- The current of important events -- Miseries that attend a separation -- I determined to make there a home -- The manifest purpose of providence -- A taste for danger and bold daring adventure -- The Spaniards were somewhat rude and inhospitable -- I am not going to let you write anything but your name -- Do not suppose I lightly interfere in a matter belonging to men -- We pressed onward with fatal resolution -- Jessie Benton Fr©♭mont was the better man of the two -- We thought money might come in handy -- All the stupid laurels that ever grew -- Decidedly, this ought to be struck out -- He throws away his heart. "Steve Inskeep tells the riveting story of John and Jessie Fr©♭mont, the husband and wife team who in the 1800s were instrumental in the westward expansion of the United States, and thus became America's first great political couple John Fr©♭mont grew up amid family tragedy and shame. Born out of wedlock in 1813, he went to work at age thirteen to help support his family in Charleston, South Carolina. He was a nobody. Yet, by the 1840s, he rose to become one of the most acclaimed people of the age -- known as a wilderness explorer, bestselling writer, gallant army officer, and latter-day conquistador, who in 1846 began the United States' takeover of California from Mexico. He was a celebrity who personified the country's westward expansion. Mountains, towns, ships, and streets were named after him. How did he climb so far? A vital factor was his wife, Jessie Benton Fr©♭mont, the daughter of a powerful United States senator. Jessie wanted to play roles in politics and exploration, which were then reserved for men. Frustrated, she threw her skill and passion into promoting her husband. Ordered by the US Army to map the Oregon Trail, John traveled thousands of miles on horseback, indifferent to his safety and that of the other members of his expeditions. When he returned home, Jessie helped him to shape dramatic reports of his adventures, which were reprinted in newspapers and bound as popular books. Jessie became his political adviser, and a power player in her own right. In 1856, the famous couple strategized as John became the first-ever presidential nominee of the newly established Republican Party. The party had been founded in opposition to slavery, and though both Fr©♭monts were Southerners they became symbols of the cause. With rare detail and in consummate style, Steve Inskeep tells the story of a couple whose joint ambitions and talents intertwined with those of the nascent United States itself. Americans linked the Fr©♭monts with not one but three great social movements of the time -- westward settlement, women's rights, and opposition to slavery. Theirs is a surprisingly modern story of ambition and fame; they lived in a time of globalization, technological disruption, and divisive politics that foreshadowed our own. The Fr©♭monts' adventures amount to nothing less than a tour of the early American soul"--.

940.54 S

Sledge, E. B. (Eugene Bondurant), 1923-. China marine. Oxford University Paperback, 2003. Tuscaloosa : University of Alabama Press, c2002. China Marine 1 -- Epilogue: I Am Not the Man I Would Have Been 149.

940.54 T

Terkel, Studs, 1912-2008. "The good war" : an oral history of World War Two. New York : New Press, [1997.

943.36 H

Hunt, Irmgard A. (Irmgard Albine), 1934-. On Hitler's mountain : overcoming the legacy of a Nazi childhood. First Harper Perennial edition. 2006. On writing a childhood memoir -- pt. 1. 1906-1934 : the P©œhlmanns. Roots of discontent ; In search of a future -- pt. 2. 1934-1939 : Hitler's willing followers. The rituals of life ; "Heil Hitler" ; Ominous undercurrents ; Meeting Hitler ; Gathering clouds -- pt. 3. 1939-1945 : war and surrender. Early sacrifice ; Learning to hate school ; Lessons from a wartime friendship ; A weary interlude in Selb ; Hardship and disintegration ; War comes to Berchtesgaden ; The end at last -- pt. 4. 1945-1948 : Bitter justice, or, Will justice be done? Survival under the Star-spangled Banner ; The curse of the past ; Escape from darkness. The author provides an account of her life growing up in Berchtesgaden, a Bavarian village at the foot of Hitler's mountain retreat, discussing a childhood encounter with the Nazi leader, and shedding light on why ordinary Germans, including her parents, tolerated and even supported the Nazis.

951.04 M

Mitter, Rana, 1969- author. Forgotten ally : China's World War II, 1937-1945. First U.S. Edition. The path to war: As close as lips and teeth : China's fall, Japan's rise ; A new revolution ; The path to confrontation -- Disaster: Thirty-seven days in summer : the outbreak of war ; The battle for Shanghai ; Refugees and resistance ; Massacre at Nanjing ; The battle of Taierzhuang ; The deadly river -- Resisting alone: "A sort of wartime normal" ; Flight into the unknown ; The road to Pearl Harbor -- The poisoned alliance ; Destination Burma ; Hunger in Henan ; States of terror ; Conference at Cairo ; One war, two fronts ; Showdown with Stilwell ; Unexpected victory ; Epilogue: The enduring war. "For decades, a major piece of World War II history has gone virtually unwritten. China was the fourth great ally, partner to the United States, the Soviet Union, and Great Britain, yet its drama of invasion, resistance, slaughter, and political intrigue remains little known in the West. In this emotionally gripping book, made possible through access to newly unsealed Chinese archives, Rana Mitter unfurls the story of China's World War II as never before and rewrites the larger history of the war in the process. He focuses his narrative on three towering leaders -- Chiang Kai-shek, Mao Zedong, and the lesser-known collaborator Wang Jingwei -- and extends the timeline of the war back to 1937, when Japanese and Chinese troops began to clash, fully two years before Hitler invaded Poland. Unparalleled in its research and scope, Forgotten Ally is a sweeping, character-driven history that will be essential reading not only for anyone with an interest in World War II, but also for those seeking to understand today's China, where, as Mitter reveals, the echoes of the war still reverberate"--.

952 J

Takada, Noriko. The Japanese way : aspects of behavior, attitudes, and customs of the Japanese. 2nd ed. Chicago : McGraw-Hill, c2011 . Abbreviations and contractions -- Addresses and street names -- Arts and crafts -- Asking directions -- Bathing and bathhouses -- Body language and gestures -- Borrowed words and acronyms -- Bowing -- Brand names and brand-name goods (burando-hin) -- Business cards (meish) -- Calendar -- Cherry blossoms and flower viewing -- Compliments -- Conversation -- Crime and safety -- Dating and marriage -- Death, funerals, and mourning -- Dialects -- Dining out -- Dinner invitations -- Directness -- Discussion and consensus -- Dress -- Drinking -- Driving -- Earthquakes -- Education -- English-language study -- Family -- The Jag and the national anthem -- Flowers and plants -- Food and eating -- Footwear -- Foreigners -- Gender roles -- Geography -- Gifts -- Government -- Hellos and good-byes -- Holidays and festivals -- Honorific speech (keigo) -- Hotels and inns -- Housing and furnishings -- Humor -- The Imperial family -- Individuals and couples -- Introductions and networking -- Karaoke -- Leisure (rgli) -- Letters, greeting cards, and postal services -- Love and affection -- Lucky and unlucky numbers -- Male/female speech -- Money -- Mt. Fuji -- Music and dance -- Myths, legends, and folklore -- Names, titles, and forms of address -- Numbers and counting -- Oriental medicine -- Pinball (pachinko) -- Politeness and rudeness -- Population -- Privacy -- Reading material -- Religion -- The seasons -- Shopping -- Shrines and temples -- Signatures and seals -- Social structure -- Sports -- Table etiquette -- Telephones -- Television/radio/movies -- Thank-yous and regrets -- Theater -- Time and punctuality -- Tipping and service charges -- Toilets -- Travel within Japan -- Vending machines -- Visiting private homes -- Weights, measures, and sizes -- Working hours -- The written language -- "Yes" and "no" -- "You first" -- Zoological calendar.

972.81 P

Proskouriakoff, Tatiana, 1909-1985. Maya history. First edition. Foreword / Gordon R. Wills -- Tatiana Proskouriakoff, 1909-1985 / Ian Graham -- Introduction / Rosemary A. Joyce -- 1. The Earliest Records: (A.D. 288-337) -- 2. The Arrival of Strangers: (A.D. 337-386) -- 3. The Maya Regain Tikal: (A.D. 386-435) -- 4. Some Ragged Pages: (A.D. 435-485) -- 5. Expansion of the Maya Tradition: (A.D. 485-534) -- 6. A Time of Troubles: (A.D. 534-583) -- 7. Recovery on the Frontiers: (A.D. 583-633) -- 8. Growth and Expansion: (A.D. 633-682) -- 9. Toward a Peak of Prosperity: (A.D. 682-736) -- 10. On the Crest of the Wave: (A.D. 731-780) -- 11. Prelude to Disaster: (A.D. 780-830) -- 12. The Final Years: (A.D. 831-909) -- 13. The Last Survivals: (A.D. 909-938). The ruins of Maya city-states occur throughout the Yucatan peninsula, Guatemala, Belize, and in parts of Honduras and El Salvador. But the people who built these sites remain imperfectly known. Though they covered standing monuments (stelae) and public buildings with hieroglyphic records of their deeds, no Rosetta Stone has yet turned up in Central America to help experts determine the exact meaning of these glyphs. Tatiana Proskouriakoff, a preeminent student of the Maya, made many breakthroughs in deciphering Maya writing, particularly in demonstrating that the glyphs record the deeds of actual human beings. This discovery opened the way for a history of the Maya, a monumental task that Proskouriakoff was engaged in before her death in 1985. Her work, Maya History, has been made ready for press by the able editorship of Rosemary Joyce. Maya History reconstructs the Classic Maya period (roughly A.D. 250-900) from the glyphic record on stelae at numerous sites, including Altar de Sacrificios, Copan, Dos Pilas, Naranjo, Piedras Negras, Quirigua, Tikal, and Yaxchilan. Proskouriakoff traces the spread of governmental institutions from the central Peten, especially from Tikal, to other city-states by conquest and intermarriage. And she also shows how the gradual introduction of foreign elements into Maya art mirrors the entry of outsiders who helped provoke the eventual collapse of the Classic Maya. Fourteen line drawings of monuments and over three hundred original drawings of glyphs amplify the text. Maya History has been long awaited by scholars in the field. It is sure to provoke lively debate and greater understanding of this important area in Mesoamerican studies.

973.04 A

Asian Americans : the movement and the moment. A wide-ranging collection of essays and material which documents the rich, little-known history of Asian American social activism during the years 1965-2001. This book examines the period not only through personal accounts and historical analysis, but through the visual record--utilizing historical prictorial materials developed at UCLA's Asian American Studies Center on Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Filipino, and Vietnamese Americans. Included are many reproductions of photos of the period, movement comics, demonstration flyers, newsletters, posters and much more.

973.0496 D

W.E.B. DuBois. The Souls of Black Folk. BIGFONTBOOKS.COM.

973.7 B

Barney, William L. Battleground for the Union : the era of the Civil War and Reconstruction, 1848-1877. Englewood Cliffs, N.J. : Prentice Hall, c1990.

973.9 I

Imani, Blair, author. Making our way home : the Great Migration and the Black American dream. First edition. Separate but equal: Reconstruction-1919 -- Beautiful -- and ugly, too: 1920-1929 -- I, too, am America: 1930-1939 -- Liberty and justice for all: 1940-1949 -- Trouble ahead: 1950-1959 -- The time is in the street, you know: 1960-1969 -- All poer to all the people: 1970-1979. "A powerful illustrated history of the Great Migration and its sweeping impact on Black and American culture, from Reconstruction to the rise of hip hop. Over the course of six decades, an unprecedented wave of Black Americans left the South and spread across the nation in search of a better life--a migration that sparked stunning demographic and cultural changes in twentieth-century America. Through gripping and accessible historical narrative paired with illustrations, author and activist Blair Imani examines the largely overlooked impact of The Great Migration and how it affected--and continues to affect--Black identity and America as a whole. Making Our Way Home explores issues like voting rights, domestic terrorism, discrimination, and segregation alongside the flourishing of arts and culture, activism, and civil rights. Imani shows how these influences shaped America's workforce and wealth distribution by featuring the stories of notable people and events, relevant data, and family histories. The experiences of prominent figures such as James Baldwin, Fannie Lou Hamer, El Hajj Malik El Shabazz (Malcolm X), Ella Baker, and others are woven into the larger historical and cultural narratives of the Great Migration to create a truly singular record of this powerful journey"--.

973.9 L

Longley, Kyle, author. LBJ's 1968 : power, politics, and the presidency in America's year of upheaval. A nation on the brink: the State of the Union Address, January 1968 -- Those dirty bastards, are they trying to embarrass us? The Pueblo Incident, January-December 1968 -- Tet: a very near thing, January-March 1968 -- As a result, I will not seek re-election: the March 31, 1968 speech -- The days the earth stood still: the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., April 1968 -- He hated him, but loved him: the assassination of Robert Kennedy, June 1968 -- The big stumble: the Fortas Affair, June-October 1968 -- The tanks are rolling: Czechoslovakia crushed, August 1968 -- The perfect disaster: the Democratic National Convention, August 1968 -- Is this treason?: the October surprise that wasn't, October-December 1968 -- The last dance, January 1969 -- Conclusion.

974.7 F

Feldman, Deborah, 1986-. Unorthodox : the scandalous rejection of my Hasidic roots. 1st Simon & Schuster trade pbk. ed. 2020. New York : Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2012. Traces the author's upbringing in a Hasidic community in Brooklyn, describing the strict rules that governed her life, arranged marriage at the age of seventeen, and the birth of her son, which led to her plan to leave and forge her own path in life.

975.7 B

Ball, Edward, 1959-. Slaves in the family. Paperback edition. Journalist Ball confronts the legacy of his family's slave-owning past, uncovering the story of the people, both black and white, who lived and worked on the Balls' South Carolina plantations. It is an unprecedented family record that reveals how the painful legacy of slavery continues to endure in America's collective memory and experience. Ball, a descendant of one of the largest slave-owning families in the South, discovered that his ancestors owned 25 plantations, worked by nearly 4,000 slaves. Through meticulous research and by interviewing scattered relatives, Ball contacted some 100,000 African-Americans who are all descendants of Ball slaves. In intimate conversations with them, he garnered information, hard words, and devastating family stories of precisely what it means to be enslaved. He found that the family plantation owners were far from benevolent patriarchs; instead there is a dark history of exploitation, interbreeding, and extreme violence.--From publisher description.

975.7 B

Ball, Edward, 1959-. The sweet hell inside : a family history. First edition. Preface -- Part 1-The Master and His Orphans-Part 2-High Yellow-Porch 3 -Eyes Sadder Then the Grave-Part 4-Nigger Rich-Part 5-The Orphans Dancers-Part 6-A Trunk in the Grass-Notes-Permission and Photography Credits-Acknowledgments-Index. If. Recounts the lives of the Harleston family of South Carolina, the progeny of a Southern gentleman and his slave who cast off their blemished roots and achieved affluence in part through a surprisingly successful funeral parlor business. Their wealth afforded the Harlestons the comfort of chauffeurs, tailored clothes, and servants whose skin was darker than theirs. It also launched the family into a generation of glory as painters, performers, and photographers in the "high yellow" society of America's colored upper class. The Harlestons' remarkable 100-year journey spans the waning days of Reconstruction, the precious art world of the early 1900s, the back alleys of the Jazz Age, and the dawn of the civil rights movement.--From publisher description.

DVD Gre

The Great debaters. 2-disc collector's edition; Widescreen [ed.]. [New York] : Weinstein Company, c2008. Denzel Washington, Nate Parker, Jurnee Smollett, Denzel Whitaker, Jermaine Williams, Forest Whitaker, Gina Ravera, John Heard, Kimberly Elise, Devyn Tyler, Trenton McClain Boyd. Melvin B. Tolson is a professor at Wiley College in Texas. Wiley is a small African-American college. In 1935, Tolson inspired students to form the school's first debate team. Tolson turns a group of underdog students into a historically elite debate team which goes on to challenge Harvard in the national championship. Inspired by a true story.

F Alb

Albertalli, Becky, author. What if it's us. Told in two voices, when Arthur, a summer intern from Georgia, and Ben, a native New Yorker, meet it seems like fate, but after three attempts at dating fail they wonder if the universe is pushing them together or apart.

F Arc

Astral Traveler's Daughter. First Simon & Schuster Trade Paperback edition, April 2019. New York, NY : Simon & Schuster, Inc, 2019. "Last year, Teddy Cannon discovered she was psychic. This year, her skills will be put to the test as she investigates a secretive case that will take her far from home--and deep into the past in the thrilling follow-up to School for Psychics"-- Provided by publisher.

F Chi

Chiaverini, Jennifer, author. Enchantress of numbers : a novel of Ada Lovelace. "The only legitimate child of Lord Byron, the most brilliant, revered, and scandalous of the Romantic poets, Ada was destined for fame long before her birth. Estranged from Ada's father, who was infamously "mad, bad, and dangerous to know," Ada's mathematician mother is determined to save her only child from her perilous Byron heritage. Banishing fairy tales and make-believe from the nursery, Ada's mother provides her daughter with a rigorous education grounded in mathematics and science. Any troubling spark of imagination--or worse yet, passion or poetry--is promptly extinguished. Or so her mother believes. When Ada is introduced into London society as a highly eligible young heiress, she at last discovers the intellectual and social circles she has craved all her life. Little does she realize that her delightful new friendship with inventor Charles Babbage--brilliant, charming, and occasionally curmudgeonly--will shape her destiny ..."--Jacket.

F Chr

Christie, Michael, 1976- author. Greenwood : a novel. First U.S. edition. "It's 2038 and Jake Greenwood is a storyteller and a liar, an overqualified tour guide babysitting ultra-rich vacationers in one of the world's last remaining forests. It's 2008 and Liam Greenwood is a carpenter, fallen from a ladder and sprawled on his broken back, calling out from the concrete floor of an empty mansion. It's 1974 and Willow Greenwood is out of jail, free after being locked up for one of her endless series of environmental protests: attempts at atonement for the sins of her father's once vast and violent timber empire. It's 1934 and Everett Greenwood is alone, as usual, in his maple syrup camp squat when he hears the cries of an abandoned infant and gets tangled up in the web of a crime that will cling to his family for decades. And throughout, there are trees: thrumming a steady, silent pulse beneath Christie's effortless sentences and working as a guiding metaphor for withering, weathering, and survival. A shining, intricate clockwork of a novel, Greenwood is a rain-soaked and sun-dappled story of the bonds and breaking points of money and love, wood and blood--and the hopeful, impossible task of growing toward the light"--.

F Cle

Memoirs of Fanny Hill. Published by arrangement with Edito-Service S. A., Geneva, Switzerland. New York, NY : Peebles Press International Inc, 1973.

F Col

Andre's Reboot. Birmingham, AL : Stephen B. Coleman, Publisher, 2019.

F Def

Moll Flanders. Reprint. 2020. Columbia, SC, : August 12, 2020.

F Def

Defoe, Daniel, 1661?-1731. The fortunes and misfortunes of the famous Moll Flanders ... A new edition.

F Fit

Fitzgerald, F. Scott (Francis Scott), 1896-1940, author. The great Gatsby. Foreword to the seventy-fifth anniversary edition: F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, and the House of Scribner ; Preface / by Matthew J. Bruccoli -- THE GREAT GATSBY -- The text of The Great Gatsby / by Matthew J. Bruccoli -- Publisher's afterword / Charles Scribner III -- FSF : life and career / James L.W. West III. Overview: The mysterious Jay Gatsby embodies the American notion that it is possible to redefine oneself and persuade the world to accept that definition. Gatsby's youthful neighbor, Nick Carraway, fascinated with the display of enormous wealth in which Gatsby revels, finds himself swept up in the lavish lifestyle of Long Island society during the Jazz Age. Considered Fitzgerald's best work, The Great Gatsby is a mystical, timeless story of integrity and cruelty, vision and despair. The timeless story of Jay Gatsby and his love for Daisy Buchanan is widely acknowledged to be the closest thing to the Great American Novel ever written.

F Jam

The Turn of the Screw, the Aspern Papers, and Two Stories. Barnes & Noble Classics, 2003; Intro. and notes by David L. Sweet. New York, NY : Barnes & Noble, 2003.

F Ora

Orange, Tommy, 1982- author. There there. First Vintage books edition. Here is a story of several people, each of whom has private reasons for travelling to the Big Oakland Powwow. Jacquie Red Feather is newly sober and trying to make it back to the family she left behind in shame. Dene Oxendene is pulling his life together after his uncle's death and has come to work at the powwow to honour his uncle's memory. Opal Viola Victoria Bear Shield has come to watch her nephew Orvil Red Feather, who has taught himself traditional Indian dance through YouTube videos and has come to the powwow to dance in public for the very first time. There will be glorious communion, and a spectacle of sacred tradition and pageantry. And there will be sacrifice, and heroism, and unspeakable loss.

F Pat

Patchett, Ann, author. The Dutch house : a novel. First edition. "Ann Patchett, the New York Times bestselling author of Commonwealth and State of Wonder, returns with her most powerful novel to date: a richly moving story that explores the indelible bond between two siblings, the house of their childhood, and a past that will not let them go"--.

F Rob

Roberts, Nora, author. The awakening. First edition. "#1 New York Times bestselling author of the epic Chronicles of The One trilogy returns with the first in a brand new series where parallel worlds clash over the struggle between good and evil"--.

F Row

Rowling, J. K. Harrius Potter et philosophi lapis. Cover illustration first pub. 2015. London : Bloomsbury, 2003, ℗♭1997. Latin translation, Peter Needham, 2003. Rescued from the outrageous neglect of his aunt and uncle, a young boy with a great destiny proves his worth while attending Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

F Rus

Russell, Karen, 1981-. Swamplandia! 1st ed (Borzoi Book). New York : Alfred A. Knopf, 2011. Twelve year old Ava must travel into the Underworld part of the swamp in order to save her family's dynasty of Bigtree alligator wresting. This novel takes us to the swamps of the Florida Everglades, and introduces us to Ava Bigtree, an unforgettable young heroine. The Bigtree alligator wrestling dynasty is in decline, and Swamplandia!, their island home and gator wrestling theme park, formerly no. 1 in the region, is swiftly being encroached upon by a fearsome and sophisticated competitor called the World of Darkness. Ava's mother, the park's indomitable headliner, has just died; her sister, Ossie, has fallen in love with a spooky character known as the Dredgeman, who may or may not be an actual ghost; and her brilliant big brother, Kiwi, who dreams of becoming a scholar, has just defected to the World of Darkness in a last ditch effort to keep their family business from going under. Ava's father, affectionately known as Chief Bigtree, is AWOL; and that leaves Ava, a resourceful but terrified thirteen, to manage ninety eight gators as well as her own grief. Against a backdrop of hauntingly fecund plant life animated by ancient lizards and lawless hungers, the author has written a novel about a family's struggle to stay afloat in a world that is inexorably sinking.

F Sha

Shaw, Irwin, 1913-1984. The young lions. Chicago : University of Chicago Press, 2000.

F Tol

The Hobbit. 75th Anniversary. The text of this edition is based on edition published by HarperCollins Publishers in 1995. Bilbo Baggins, a respectable, well-to-do hobbit, lives comfortably in his hobbit-hole until the day the wandering wizard Gandalf chooses him to take part in an adventure from which he may never return.

F Tow

Towles, Amor. Rules of civility. A chance encounter with a handsome banker in a jazz bar on New Year's Eve 1938 catapults Wall Street secretary Katey Kontent into the upper echelons of New York society, where she befriends a shy multi-millionaire, an Upper East Side ne'er-do-well, and a single-minded widow.

F Wat

Watson, Ren©♭e, author. Piecing me together. Tired of being singled out at her mostly-white private school as someone who needs support, high school junior Jade would rather participate in the school's amazing Study Abroad program than join Women to Women, a mentorship program for at-risk girls. "Acclaimed author Renee Watson offers a powerful story about a girl striving for success in a world that too often seems like it's trying to break her. Jade believes she must get out of her poor neighborhood if she's ever going to succeed. Her mother tells her to take advantage of every opportunity that comes her way. And Jade has: every day she rides the bus away from her friends and to the private school where she feels like an outsider, but where she has plenty of opportunities. But some opportunities she doesn't really welcome, like an invitation to join Women to Women, a mentorship program for "at-risk" girls. Just because her mentor is black and graduated from the same high school doesn't mean she understands where Jade is coming from. She's tired of being singled out as someone who needs help, someone people want to fix. Jade wants to speak, to create, to express her joys and sorrows, her pain and her hope. Maybe there are some things she could show other women about understanding the world and finding ways to be real, to make a difference.".

F Wil

Williams, Katie, 1978- author. Tell the machine goodnight. Pearl's job is to make people happy. Every day, she provides customers with personalized recommendations for greater contentment. She's good at her job, her office manager tells her, successful. But how does one measure an emotion? Meanwhile, there's Pearl's teenage son, Rhett. A sensitive kid who has forged an unconventional path through adolescence, Rhett seems to find greater satisfaction in being unhappy. The very rejection of joy is his own kind of "pursuit of happiness." As his mother, Pearl wants nothing more than to help Rhett--but is it for his sake or for hers? Certainly it would make Pearl happier. Regardless, her son is one person whose emotional life does not fall under the parameters of her job--not as happiness technician, and not as mother, either.-Amazon.

SC D

The Daniel Defoe Collection : The Life and strange surprising adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York, Mariner; The farther adventures of Robinson Crusoe; A journal of the plague year; Moll Flanders. South Carolina, USA, : August 2020.

SC L

Link, Kelly, author. Get in trouble : stories. Random House trade paperback edition. The summer people -- I can see right through you -- Secret identity -- Valley of the girls -- Origin story -- The lesson -- The new boyfriend -- Two houses -- Light. A collection of short stories features tales of a young girl who plays caretaker to mysterious guests at the cottage behind her house and a former teen idol who becomes involved in a bizarre reality show.

SC P

Packer, ZZ. Drinking coffee elsewhere. 1st Riverhead trade pbk. ed. New York : Riverhead Books, 2004, ℗♭2003. Brownies -- Every tongue shall confess -- Our Lady of Peace -- The ant of the self -- Drinking coffee elsewhere -- Speaking in tongues -- Geese -- Doris is coming. Discovered by The New Yorker, Packer "forms a constellation of young black experience"* whether she's writing from the perspective of a church-going black woman who has a crisis in faith, a young college student at Yale, or a young black man unwillingly accompanying his father to the Million Man March. This universally appealing collection of short fiction has already established ZZ Packer as "a writer to watch.".

SC S

Sedaris, David, author. Calypso. First edition. When he buys a beach house on the Carolina coast, David Sedaris envisions long, relaxing vacations spent playing board games and lounging in the sun with those he loves most. And life at the Sea Section, as he names the vacation home, is exactly as idyllic as he imagined, except for one tiny, vexing realization: it's impossible to take a vacation from yourself. Sedaris sets his powers of observation toward middle age and mortality, that vertiginous moment when your own body betrays you and you realize that the story of your life is made up of more past than future.

SC S

Sedaris, David, author. Let's explore diabetes with owls. First Back Bay paperback edition, June 2014. From the perils of French dentistry to the eating habits of the Australian kookaburra, from the squat-style toilets of Beijing to the particular wilderness of a North Carolina Costco, we learn about the absurdity and delight of a curious traveler's experiences. Whether railing against the habits of litterers in the English countryside or marveling over a disembodied human arm in a taxidermist's shop, Sedaris takes us on side-splitting adventures that are not to be forgotten.

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miasmapuddle · 5 years ago

Text

Libra full moon ushers in lessons from the zeta star race

The sun ☉ at 18 aries ♈︎ is conjoined with zeta reticulum epsilon, a star in, you guessed it, the zeta reticulum constellation.

The zeta star race is said to be an alternate timeline future version of humanity and their story is very resonant for our times. Almost too much so.

The zetas began to advance in technology at a high rate, and made the decision to leave the emotional and spiritual aspect of the world on the wayside, opting instead for a rational and materialist perspective. Well, down the evolutionary road they had chosen, due to embracing transhumanism, fusing their own flesh with hard tech, they lost all emotional capability, and their connection to source and their intuitive selves were totally severed. Around the same time, they were plunged into a massive civil war that led to nuclear warfare and the destruction of their viable planets. So the zeta people, who looked a lot like we do at this point in the story, retreated deep underground.

While underground, their skin became extremely pale, and their pupils expanded over their entire eye in order for them to be able to distinguish shapes in the relentless darkness of their planet's interior. Due to their dependence on intellect and restricted movement their heads ballooned and their bodies grew small and slim.

This created the classic ET physique most commonly recognized in what we call Greys, but are better known as Zetas.

The zetas soon realized they had made a mistake. by relying so heavily on technology, their connection to the natural world grew strained to the point that they lost the ability to reproduce. Desperate to continue their race, they began to use some of their technology to try and shift to an alternate timeline in which they had not made their fateful choice.

Long story short, they could not, and instead began looking for a race whose DNA they could harvest. This is how they found earth, back in the 1970s, around the start of abductions.

Zetas began abducting humans in order to obtain our DNA, which holds within it a vast range of emotion and potential for deep feeling and intuition, the exact qualities the Zetas once had. Their experiments were successful, and they began to create hybrid children who had the zeta intellectual capacity paired with the emotional depth of earth humanity. But the DNA they had harvested came from humans who were terrified, and this traumatic distortion was mirrored in the emotional state of the hybrid children. They were not happy, and were full of fear. The zeta realized that because of the interconnectedness of our reality, in order to heal their children, they had to heal their now broken relationship with humanity.

So the zeta began to work on a more spiritual path, and while they were not able to regain their lost capabilities right away, after generations of hybridization with other races, namely humans, a new kind of Zeta being emerged, one whose intellect renders them non judgemental and capable of clear seeing.

With zeta conjunct the sun, opposing the full moon in libra, we are receiving evidence of these lessons now in the form of deep divisive polarity, urging us to choose a side and stand with it absolutely. This is not the answer, and will only lead to further polarity. Tapping into the zeta energy can help us to see things objectively and to feel a deep compassion for our fellow human, understanding that pain and fear only breed more pain and fear, and likewise, healing only breeds more healing.

As an effort to aid humanity, the Zeta race has seeded many souls on earth, also hoping that the subtle encryption of their dark history will unconsciously aid us in making different decisions while we still can.

Zeta starseeds are very otherworldly, often appearing aloof or hypersensitive, and have a strongly eccentric space cadet vibe, a bit removed from everything around them. Zeta starseeds are equipped with brilliant minds, especially when it comes to rational thought and sciences, and they bring this mathematical flair to their spiritual ventures as well, looking at things from a uniquely dualistic yet united perspective.

At this time, the zetas are one of the most prominent races working with earth, especially the zeta-human hybrid, known as the essassani. ( for example, prominent channeled entity bashar is an essassani being)

Unfortunately many still see the zetas, commonly called the greys, as a negative race. And yes, negative factions still exist, many of which live on the orion empire controlled system of planets known as the unholy six, or in the orion star system itself. But this race as a whole has largely taken a miraculous turn for the best.

The zeta, using the holofractal nature of our universe to heal and transmute across the timelines.

Zeta message -

" in upcoming months, humanity will stand at a crossroads. You will be in a position much like one where we once were. you will be under the impression that you do not have a choice in which road you will walk. You will feel that the pull of the many is too vast and that you, the singular, are best off letting yourself be swept along in the flow rather than resisting the tides and risking a storm. This is your choice, but we urge you to take your unique personal perspective and autonomy as a gift at this time. We zeta, would like to add since this was not mentioned in the article, that we are a hive mind, and that when we moved into this state, we lived in division, in a deluded type of unity, until we collectively chose to move into what you call the light. Humans are walking the path of collective awakening at this time and will presently move into a type of consciousness more alike our own. But this connection of the hive, the collective mind, will first be a struggle. Your feelings, your thoughts, your experiences, will all be heightened. Know that this potent period is not permanent, it is a destabilizing influence, but one that is a natural consequence of deep change within your dimension. Allowing this new influx of awareness to breed anxiety and the desire to control, to force, to separate from, will only lead you to a darker horizon. The definitions of your world, mundane and metaphysical, are about to be flipped, shifted into a new paradigm. Allow it to occur and do not attempt to grasp to any one truth or absolute understanding in this time, no matter how wrong or right something seems to your new mind. Focus on cultivating your ability to move with and within this collective awareness, instead of resisting it. We are all in a dynamic timeline, and are all hoping for the best, and though we may appear to be some type of authority, we are, in many ways, as powerless to the ebb and flow of Great Nature as you. To call upon us, simply state a simple invocation, saying that you would like to connect to us, the Zetas. While you may not receive immediate impressions of our presence, you will have initiated a channel of interplay through which we can begin to connect. Thank you.

I'd like to note that the crossroads the Zetas are talking about is almost certainly the fusion of humanity and technology. 5g is just the first step in a forced transhumanism that will descend over society. This is the wave that will be so hard to push back against. They will say it is the wave of the future, astrologers may claim that it is the dawn of the age of aquarius after all, a sign associated with humanity itself, as well as technology. But this approaching singularity is not something to take lightly. Infusing our natural beings with such a high degree of electromagnetic influence will create changes in the quantum field and will reduce the number of probabilistic futures that we hold in our palm as natural humans. Once technology comes into the picture, our consciousness will become more fixed.

Writing this has been bringing up an extreme path of synchronous happenings, and I hope reading this will do the same for all of you.

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cssns · 5 years ago

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It’s that time again, y’all!!! Time for the December roundup!!!

I hope you had a wonderful holiday season and that the hope and promise of the new year stays with you all year long!

Even amid the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, we had some fantastic updates last month, including 2 updates for fics from CSSNS 2018 and one of last summer’s fics moving to the COMPLETED column!! Be sure to give our authors and artists all the love for all their hard work!!! And now, without further ado, here we GO!!!

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

@courtorderedcake opened us up in December with an update to her fic, Hallow.

"The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King's will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time."

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Ch12 can be found here. Rated E.

@kymbersmith-90 updated her fic from CSSNS 2018, Slayer, with artwork by @hollyethecurious.

Into every generation a slayer is born: one girl in all the world, a chosen one. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their number. She is the Slayer.

Ch19 can be found here. Rated E.

@seriouslyhooked updated her fic from CSSNS 2018, Lost Souls and Reveries, with artwork by @shipsxahoy.

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to the future he was destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set both of them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest).

Ch22 is here. Rated M.

@teamhook updated and COMPLETED her fic Rionnag Dorcha Gorm (Dark Blue Star), with artwork by @hollyethecurious.

It is said that evil is not born but made. This is how an act of kindness is twisted into a story about revenge. Emma and Killian are childhood friends until a tragedy separates them will another reunite them.

Ch4 is here. Not rated.

And finally @jarienn972 updated A Simple Spell, with artwork by @cocohook38.

This story is my entry into the 2019 Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event and is my first venture into AU territory. Storybrooke remains our setting but I've switched up some of the characters and familial relations to better suit this tale of prodigal witch Emma who returns to her birthplace to learn lots of secrets about herself and cast a spell that could change everything.

Ch12 is here. Rated T.

Wow!!!!! What a fantastic lineup of updates we had last month!!! Be sure to express your appreciation to our authors and artists with flails and reblogs!!! I’ll be back in February with January’s roundup!!

In the meantime, be on the lookout for announcements on the blog for CSSNS20!!! The other mods and I are already hard at work getting all our ducks in a row for this years event!!! It is very likely that 2020 will be our last year, so be thinking about what you’d like to do to participate!! We need authors, artists, betas, and cheerleaders! Make sure that you are following the blog and enable notifications so you won’t miss anything!!! Until next time, y’all!!!

#CSSNS #monthly roundup #december roundup

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the-house-of-the-nine · 5 years ago

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In Mind of Misery: Manipulation, Part 11

[ And so the journey begins. Three Separate stories to tell here all happening Simultaneously. Attacking from three fronts, is this the beginning of the end for The Nine? Please Like, Share, and Follow us! We are hoping to get new people coming our way, and could use the love! Thank you everyone!!!!! ]

Cast:

[ L.K ] - Lazarius Kashebahl, Marseille, Raelyndia Duskhollow

[ P.K ] - Kretus Dark

[ V.D ] - Verzatea Duskflame, Pame Myl’Brin

[ J ] - Jursol, Jimba, Mawa

[ T ] - Talisin aka The Boy

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[ J ] Jursol was luckily focused on Lazarius after seeing him alive. Hearing his words she knew exactly what he planned to do, and moved to action fast. Making sure the golem was in the right place at the right time. Her eyes grew wide with a mix of excitement and fear for him as the golem launched him with force.

Her eyes followed him closely as she herself rushed towards him. Kicking blood up as she dashed. With a leap into air, her large clawed hand reaching to grab him. She pulled him close as she tucked him under her arm, as they landed a thud likely was heard. Jursol did whatever she could to protect him as they landed.

[ V . D ] Amid the chaos, having provided what aid she could to the others, Verzatea had put the majority of her focus on the young boy whom was surely dazed and terrified of the horrific setting he'd been forced into. Tea had made an effort to comfort him by hugging her free arm about the child, whispering kindly and reassuring words as she kept his head low to prevent him from getting hit, shield his smaller body with her own.

Though she watched. Observed as the epic moments of their lives played out before them. She'd quietly marvel the strength of their numbers, the protectiveness and desire to survive they each held... Awe inspiring, especially the blade brandished in a display of pure awesomeness.

Pame remained protecting the body of their wounded shaldorei, often swinging and slashing swords to ward off bodies that stumbled too close in the excitement of the golem's destructive path. She'd grit her teeth at the unmistakable sound of glass cracking under pressure and splintering.

Whilst copying Verzatea, both women tuck the faces of their charges into their shoulders before burying their faces into the person's shoulder, both bracing and protecting their faces from the wash of blood spilling from the tank. The sudden crash and thud of bodies landing would cause both women to snap to attention after a second of wading the spilling roar of rushing blood, and while

Pame visibly flinched as her sensitive ears endured the screeching roars of disdain overhead... Verzatea did not even blink. Instead she focused on the bodies of the elf and troll, her concern skyrocketing as she calls to them,

"Are you two alright?"

“The moment has come.”

[ L. K ] Raelyndias voice spread across the cavernous interior as she felt the blood leaving the vat. Her own motives now becoming realized to them as Lazarius sat up in Jursols arms. The troll had saved him again.

“Released from this capsule, you have done my bidding once more Serpent.”

The nickname caught the ears of the inquisitor as he snarled and rolled to his feet. His black pools seething as he glared toward the tank.

“You have no body! No vessel! You cannot inhabit one of our own; I have seen to that! Our talismans prevent possession after the fall of De’Mour!”

He was not lying, a secondary fail safe to prohibit such things like a Nathrezim attempting to inhabit one of them was now a countermeasure in the talisman.

“The magi; ah. . .yes, . . . you have condemned their offspring to an eternity of hell; as you have secured the fate of all who inhabit this place and my home....”

As the essence began to pour from the containment unit Lazarius pulled the eye he’d been saving and focused it toward the tank.

“And this?”

He screamed at the nothingness.

“Answer me! What was this? I have bested you again Raelyndia!”

Lazarius waited as the screeching was over and the blood contaminate poured into the already messy floor.

“That was the bait...my child.”

Those words suddenly caused Lazarius’ spine to stiffen. His eyelids widened as he peered around the room. His grip on the eye tightening while he grew more impatient.

“Bait for what!?”

He howled into the dark red light.

“To lure you here and reclaim what is rightfully mine...”.

Raelyndia spoke confidently as she cackled behind her words.

“The Bastille is defenseless. You....are defenseless.”

Lazarius had raced back to the tank and was screaming at the leeching fluid as it poured onto his boots.

“And you think I came here without my own intentions!”

The dark eyed mad man suddenly slammed the eye into the hole he had created in the tank.

His wild gaze would cause his eyes to ignite in the venomous fluid like state when he began to lose himself.

“How much energy did it take for you to manifest here Raelyndia? Planning is everything. You taught me that! So I planned! And I extracted and I tore through the depths of space and time. You may have the ability to resurrect this form but I have the sense to know exactly what it takes to stop you!”

He slammed his fist into the eye and it would suddenly widen inside the tank into a doorway that buzzed and tore through the room with a violent crackle of electricity and buzzing.

The view from their vantage would be that of a complete mind bending twisting nonsensical dream. Inside the gateway produced from the eye and the tank, they could see a massive NRaqi being destroyed, and the figure dismembering it was a blur of violent purple and mist.

Beside the killed old god minion was a man, a man they all knew very well. Lazarius was laying covered in his own blood on the ground, he was peering up at them.

And beside the portal was their Lazarius.

“Time to go...Pame get Marseille on his feet, Verzatea...the boy....Jursol, I want that golem breaking that door down by the time I get back...”

And with that the image faded and Lazarius stepped through the gateway, it turned into a pure black mist. He was gone and the sounds of Raelyndias cackles went deeper and deeper into the room as if she was growing in power.

[ J ] Jursol stood silent and confused as she watch what was going down. The loud sounds hitting her ears like nails on a chalkboard cause her, and the raptors, to snarl and growl. Only thing that snapped her back was the voice o Lazarius orders to take down the door. Jursol gave a bow of her head as she readied herself to destroy the door.

“Loa protect....”

She said to herself as she focused her energy into the golem. Ya massive body moved towards the target door as it began to slam into it. Over and over again. It was relentless in its assault.

“Mawa!!!”

Jursol yelled as she looked back at the raptor that was still near the boy.

“PROTECT DA BOY!!!”

Mawa growled and screeched as it followed orders. The other raptors moved to protect Jursol, one moved to Mars and Pame to help.

“THISTH IS DOCTOR WHISTHLETORQUE! Listen to me! I hope thisth isth working...Verzatea! Anyone who can hear thisth! Do not return to the Basthtille. Raelyndia isth here! She isn’t trying to rebirth her body she isth trying to take control of t———”

[ L. K ] The gnomes voice cut out as their talismans all began to glow with a horrible red energy. The force of power that was growing within it was resonating a massive field of dark energy. And in a few moments more; every talisman that was associated with The Nine burst into a cinder of ash. They were gone, destroyed by the power within.

[ V . D ] Gently Verzatea gathered the child's arms into her soft hands, helping him up rather than violently pulling him to his feet.

"Fret not dear,"

Tea assured the boy,

"We're nearing the end- Violent or peaceful, it will come-- Consider this your first lesson,"

She remarks, trying to rouse him back to reality by forcing their eyes to meet as she imparts a bit of wisdom,

"Never dawdle. Always keep moving when in a hostile situation. Fate can be changed with confidence."

Beside the sindorei woman and younger boy, the kaldorei was currently heaving the wounded shaldorei up and onto his feet. His good arm had been slung over her shoulder thus to carry the majority of his weight. Her second arm, besides the one clutching the shaldoreis hand to keep his arm pinned around her shoulders, hugged his waist and ensured he'd not topple over in case he couldn't keep his balance.

Even if she had to drag him out of there, she'd do so. But if he could stay on his feet she'd make certain he did to keep him active and awake. In this state he could have slipped into a coma with how damaged and worn his body had been by the assaults. Thus she carried most of the weight, as not to strain him to the point of total exhaustion that he'd faint and fall unconscious.

With the reassuring snarls and cries of her raptors, and the calming notion that they would have protection in these vulnerable states-- Until the frantic squeaks of the doctor entered the air... Verzatea's face paled with the creeping sense of fear for all who remained at the Bastille.

Pame would instantly start to rouse the Confessor from what dark thoughts crept into Teas mind, assuring that Siida remained and would protect everyone. Because that's the kinda woman Siida is. That’s who the Kashe'bahls were.

"Trust,"

Pame pressed, her confidence in their people stronger than her fear for the moment,

"We'll see victory soon enough."

Because even if they all died here and now, Pame trusted it wouldn't be in vain. But until then they'd fight as if death wasn't a possibility.

With deep and calming practiced breathes would Tea begin to focus on the situation at hand. Of course the well being of those left in the Bastille at the start of their journey was a great concern to Verza, and she vehemently scolded herself for not ensuring the Bastille was fully prepared and protected to withstand an assault from Rae.

But she couldn't focus too hard on the what ifs with everything at hand. She couldn't distract herself with the worry-- She'd indulge her concerned once they escaped this tomb.

[ J ] Jursol heard a voice over the chaos as she tried to listen in. She glanced to the others to see how they were doing as the golem kept at the door.

Her focus was still on getting the door down, and to see Lazarius return alive. No matter what was going on they had to get out. Her raptors did all they could as well to help at this time of need.

“The death of The Nine is now. This is the beginning. You shall witness our true purpose, blessed be... NZoth....”

[ L . K ] Just as the words rang through the chamber, the surge of energy that burst from Northrend had struck Verzatea directly in her heart. She knew just as Lazarius did; the Bastille hadnt crumbled, but was no longer itself.

As Confessor she felt the shift and dominant power of that last drop of blood coming from the tank, she felt Raelyndia leave this place. And she felt the change. Their home was gone.

The sounds from the outside world soon caused them to shift their attentions again. Worms and agents of the old god had been alerted to their position. They would be coming for them if they did not move as quick as possible.

Seconds later Lazarius had emerged from the dark portal as it closed behind him. He was unharmed and completely normal save for one very interesting fact. In his arms he was holding a beautiful crimson haired woman; she was covered in black blood and stained in the battle from earlier.

She was only clothed in her bra and underwear appearing to have been wrapped by Lazarius in a cloth of some sort to conceal her. She was not conscious and he glanced around just as Jursol had managed to get the door cracked open.

“We’ve got to move now...I suggest before everything in the nether knows we are here...”.

At that moment he felt the lose of the Bastille against his chest, he nearly dropped Ray. His eyes darting to Verza to understand what had happened. He was wrong...

[ V . D ] The emergence of Lazarius and the woman went unnoticed by Verzatea. She had felt the tightness in her chest which toom her breath away, levaing her in a state of paralyzing agony as what wards and sigils of protection she had set up slowly unraveled.

She could feel as an abyss filled the connection with the Bastille, what hold she had on its inner systems and fenses fading into nothing. The cackles in the distance only fueled the agony she felt, such a strange and empty feeling... It caused genuine tears of mourn to tumble down her pale cheeks, the hold she had on the boy loosening some as she sobbed quietly.

She did meet Lazarius's gaze after a pause, her fears swarming into her eyes before she could help it.

"Now,"

She whispers shakily in agreement, her eyes peering from the woman in Lazarius's arms to Marseille, then down to the boy before she'd smile through her tears. For now they certainly had plenty to live for in this tomb, and it was enough to keep Tea from plunging into the darkness of doubt and loathing.

"We leave now,"

Pame agrees firmly, her eyes moving to inspect Jursols well being whilst adjusting her hold on Mars. After all this she'd begin wading through the blood to tighten the ranks. Verzatea clutched the boy closer, whether he wanted her to touch him or not. But by the heavens, she refused to lose anyone else if she could help it. She was ready. Pame was ready. The time was nigh.

[ L. K ] He had one final push up to help drive him through this nightmare. He would wait for Jursol to break down the large door at the end of the hall as the group of them moved closer to her. Lazarius held tightly to the injured ginger hair girl, Verza clinging to the young boy and Pame aiding her fellow Shade.

[ J ] Jursol had been overly focused on downing the door, her energy grew low but she was not giving up. A nudge of her raptor gave her the will to press on. Her eyes ran back and forth from where Lazarius had gone, to the door they had to get down.

“Loa, I not be givin up!”

Her voice full of determination as she yelled like a crazed Amazon. Suddenly she heard Lazarius voice as she turned swiftly to see him holding a strange woman. Her concerns would have to wait. The sound of more enemies coming for them grew louder. Knowing now there was not likely a place to return, she wondered for a moment what they would do. However asking could wait till they were free.

BOOM!

She managed to get the door down with the golem just as they poured in. The group managed to get out just in time. With the massive head gone from where it was before, they had a perfect chance to run. Jursol and her raptors remained near the others as they all followed each other.

@siidaraykashebahl

@frompage112

@pyravari-kashebahl

@thebladeitself

@whatadarkbitch

@zandalaridruidofgonk

@miss-irascible

To be continued in “In Mind of Misery, Manipulation, Part 12.″

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vugheadisendgame · 5 years ago

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What Is A Twin Flame?

We all are walking around this planet with relationships that nurture us, challenge us, and cheerlead us on our path for growth and evolution. Each one of us come here with a soul group, a bunch of souls who have agreed to help us as we help them learn our planned earthly lessons, make our mistakes, release our karmic debt and journey through this life. Soul mates can be our sister, brother, mother in-law, spouse, co-worker, best friend, ex-boss or someone as unassuming as a homeless person on the street. We have so many soul mates or soul friends that come and go in our lives and even when one might come in & break our heart into tiny bitty pieces they are still serving us and helping us on our path towards growth and evolution. Then there is a Twin Flame. This relationship is something far different, far deeper, extremely powerful, and something only a few of us might experience in our lifetime. Because we as a species are evolving (waking up) at a faster pace and in record numbers, we are collectively changing the purpose of relationships. Instead of getting together and staying together for the purpose of procreation, safety & survival, we are moving towards more spiritually based relationships that can foster rapid soul growth. More and more twins are finding each other. And NOT because they are looking. Twin Flames or sometimes referred to as Twin Souls, are thought to be two parts of a soul that split and would incarnate into Earth or other realms to learn, grow, and experience duality. They would rarely incarnate at the same time as one would typically stay behind to help the other. The diverse experiences they gather when they are away from each other help to create their separate identities as souls. When these reunite, they form an ultimate relationship- and the most fulfilling one. All other relationships before serve as practice for this ultimate one. All twin soul relationship are between a male and female energy of the same soul. This does not mean it has to be between a male and female. The Twin relationship does not have a gender, race, or age barrier- it can be either heterosexual or homosexual. The purpose of this Divine relationship is to help you face yourself.

The definition of a Twin Flame in LightWorker speak; is a soul connection between two people that come together to unite in the full embodiment of the divine masculine and divine feminine. On the bright side of meeting a Twin Flame; there is an instant intense bond that is off the f*cking charts the moment you connect through the eyes, and this person will play a significant role in your life. The dark side of Twin Flames; they will abruptly leave your life without warning after saying, “I love you.” or they will ghost; poof-be-gone, run, and keep you on-the-vine-of their our timeline. When meeting a Twin counterpart there is an inner knowing that feels fated upon meeting them. This is the spiritual bond connecting energetically through quantum entanglement and once formed; the connection is unbreakable. (you’ll wish it was at times) You’ll not meet your Twin by chance either; this fated pre-destined soul contract was put in place to serve a higher purpose for spiritual advancement, creativity, learning, and personal growth. Dating a soul-mate is easier than trying to date a Twin Flame, because meeting your Twin…is never without pain, and the cycle can continue for years if you allow it. Not everyone is destined to meet their Twin Flame in this lifetime, though every person on the planet has a Twin counterpart in the present time, or passed-on to the other side. Upon meeting your Twin, it feels like nothing you’ve experienced before in any other relationship. (this is how you get hooked-in) There is a familiarity upon meeting your Twin that can seem rather odd. Before, during, and after meeting your Twin counterpart, synchronicities start manifesting into your physical reality, and this is where the fun begins. The signs as I call them, will connect back to the Twin in some odd way. Perhaps things like number sequences, seeing the number 1111 on everything from clocks to receipts. Songs on the radio that connect to your twin counterpart, or seeing their name in places that are out of the ordinary like menus and billboards. I’ve experienced a power grid go down upon defending my Twin. Twin’s share commonalities that are highly unusual in so called “normal or organic” relationships. (example: birthdays that match house numbers, friends, and parents birthdays) But one thing is certain, all of these synchronic events will be out of the ordinary. Twin Flames are not to be confused with fated love or soul-mate type relationships. Soul-mates have more to do more with choice, love, and lust. Twin Flames have-to-do with fate, and the spiritual awakening simultaneously, and not orchestrated by choice or freewill. It’s designed as a learning/teaching relationship. The hard part about meeting a Twin is that one or both people are usually involved in other relationships, and one of the Twin’s are typically not emotionally available in some form or another. (married, girlfriend/boyfriend) Some Twin’s can get into relationships right away, however; most do not, because it’s not designed to be that way unfortunately, and this is where many people get super depressed to the fated part of the journey. This does not mean you can’t have a relationship with your Twin; it’s just harder to get one going due to the template design.

The Chaser Twin ( the one who understands the relationship template) waits for the return of the runner, having the patience of a saint while working on self as each day goes by. This is not pinning away, it’s different. Only a Twin Flame can understand this process. The chaser is hoping that the runner wakes up to his/her spiritual call to enlightenment, while dealing with their own healing of past relationship wounds during this period. Twin’s may share only a brief moment in time, but one Twin keeps the faith that one day that their counterpart will reach out again. Months and months go by…and then… they call. It can feel like your being used as narcissistic ego supply when they come back into your life, and in some cases that’s what it is. This experience is called the Twin Flame runner/chaser dynamic. The runner and chaser dynamic is common in a Twin Flame relationship. The runner and chaser dynamic can change roles during the relationship. It happens when one partner may or may not be spiritually aware of what is happening in their own lives, and becomes very confused after meeting their counterpart, which can lead to the the runner escaping the confusion, by leaving abruptly. If you were to ask the runner “why they run?” They wouldn’t know, they’ll just feel that something is “off.” The running Twin does not understand what’s happening to them on a spiritual level, and feel like they’re losing control over their own emotions. They don’t know what to do, so their natural reaction is to run away, and chasing after them, only makes them run even more. Completing your own inner healing is crucial for this type of journey with a Twin counterpart to even have a chance to work out, and it requires patience, and doing all of the necessary work on self that must be completed. Not doing any inner work on self creates a continuous cycle of running/chasing with the Twin counterpart.

There is a certain fated element to this type of connection. The template of a Twin Flame seems very fated in many ways. It’s one of the most complicated; or most beautiful connections that we can experience in a lifetime; depending on how you want to view that. Some will question the validity of this type of connection, or think that it’s BS, however, the concept is present in many cultures and has been for thousands of years. Perhaps the story of Adam and Eve is the original Twin Flame connection. Other examples of Twin’s are; John Lennon and Yoko Ono, Linda and Paul McCartney, Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward, Ron and Nancy Reagan and fictional characters Harold and Maude that depict Twin Flames with major age differences. In Chinese culture the name for Twin Flames is the red string of fate, it’s an invisible red cord, tied to those destined to be together. Time can stretch or tangle the red cord, but the thread can never be severed. We all have a other half. The term “finding our other half” comes from that concept. The term Twin Flame is derived from Greek mythology. It was said that humans were originally created with four arms and four legs, but Zeus, fearing their power, split them in half, sentencing them to spend the rest of their lives searching for their other half. Whether we believe in the concept of finding our other half or not, the theory of being split in half is a belief that reinforces the Twin Fame concept. The Twin Flame experience will be nothing like anything you will have been through before. You’ll learn the meaning of unconditional love for another human being and more compassionate love for yourself. How you choose to navigate the lessons you learn, messages you receive on your Twin Fame journey, is entirely up to you. How each person will process “signs” is also up to each person who experiences them. Each Twin has a different trajectory they’ll be on, and no two Twin couples will likely walk the same path in life; how could they due to the dynamic of meeting a Twin in the first place. However, one thing is certain, once awakened by such a connection, your life will never be the same.

Some have questioned the validity of the Twin Flame concept, calling it evil, the work of the Devil etc…I get it; unless you’ve experienced an abnormal amount of synchronicity surrounding another person, it’s hard to digest the concept of a fated meeting of your carbon copy with synchronic signs unless you’ve experienced this for yourself. Not everyone in life will need to go through this type of relationship design. I do believe in the Twin Flame model, because I‘ve experienced it and speak about my experiences. Like so many who’ve experienced this relationship model; it came with a spiritual awakening, finding one’s life purpose, and a heart full of pain because of the running Twin who was not emotionally available for you or anyone. This is the hardest part of the Twin Flame journey; it ain’t easy. A Twin Flame is one of the most challenging relationships to navigate. There is an inner knowing that comes with meeting that they are your Twin, but be-not-fooled; not all Twin’s wind-up together in “romantic” situations just because of the fated-ness that persist with synchronic signs after meeting them. Fate does-not-a-relationship-make. A relationship must have 2 people in agreement to said-relationship to make it so, the law of freewill has much to do with that. There is no Universal law that states; “a fated meeting is forever.” Life is not a Helzberg Diamond commercial. But one thing is for sure; anyone who experiences a Twin Flame relationship will be changed forever and ultimately rewarded by spiritual evolution. Working on self first and detachment from the ego mind of the fated-ness part of meeting a Twin Flame is what moves you forward on your spiritual path. Detachment means: TO HAVE ZERO EXPECTATIONS OF BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR TWIN. I can’t emphasis this enough. You and your twin will no doubt be working on issues through each other to evolve as people. The meeting of the Twin is always for a much higher purpose. Divine timing will determine if you will be in a “union” or relationship. The law of freewill; choice in choosing a partner, prevails over fate and destiny.

Twin Flame Signs

You will experience a strange “feeling” and “knowing” of something happening behind the scenes before your first encounter with them.You will get this feeling that something is brewing but you have no idea what it is, or why you feel this way.

The moment you encounter them, you will feel a strange and unusual spark within your being. “There they are!” is a simple yet accurate way to describe this feeling. It is an instant recognition on a soul level, your logical mind will not recognize them, but YOU will.

Synchronicities will become very apparent. The number sequence 11:11will be the inital sequence that you encounter. Once you acknowledge it, more will come. They will be in your face, all of the time. This will range from repeating numbers (222, 333, 444, etc.) to your thoughts synching perfectly with your reality; you will be thinking of a word or phrase, and you will then hear this exact word or phrase in the physical. You will see personalized messages on billboards and on the TV, telling you exactly what you need in order to keep moving forward. The biggest mistake you could make is to ignore what these numbers and signs are telling you. They are signs and directions laid out for you by your Higher Self. They are your path to Union.

Your outlook on life will change. You will prefer complete solitude for awhile in order to collect your thoughts. You will question everything you have ever known and you will rid your life of what no longer serves you. Some of this will even happen on a subconscious level; For example, you won’t be able to afford cable TV any longer, as this is your Higher Self directing you AWAY from the false beliefs that no longer resonate. Things can seem as if they are falling apart, but they are being cleared for a higher purpose, you are making room for the new to enter.

You will give up habits that no longer serve you. Drinking, smoking, even unsatisfying jobs. You will suddenly drop these things as they no longer serve a purpose for your Union.

You will be absolutely swarmed with thoughts of your Twin Flame. By swarmed I quite literally mean 24-7. There are days were you will just want to lay in bed and think about your Twin, and tune into your heart connection. You can not and will not escape this, the more you attempt to push these thoughts and feelings away, the more they will overwhelm you. This is set in place for a reason. You are not MEANT to push these away, you are meant to embrace them, as your Twin will be a part of your life for the duration of your time here on Earth, and thereafter.

Your lives will synch up. Everything about you will synch and match, yet you will ALSO be complimentary opposites. This is put in place as a recognition mechanism. Your lives before you met will match, so much that you may discover that you received the same items for Christmas years ago. You will have worked the same types of jobs, and your family history will match. You will show up in person together and be dressed alike. If one Twin gets a nosebleed, the other will follow suit shortly thereafter.

As for the complimentary opposite aspect; what one Twin lacks, the other will make up for. If one of you is bald, the other will have a beautiful head of hair. If one of you excels at math, the other will be a magnificent writer. If one is older, the other maybe decades younger. Your aspects will be a perfect puzzle, all will be matched, synched, and what one is “lacking” the other will fill in. It is human perfection.

The Love you feel for this person goes beyond anything you ever thought was possible. You will absolutely LOVE this person with such a fiery passion that nothing and no one would ever be able to change this feeling. It is a complete imprint on the others soul, you have permanently merged yourselves. And the only reason for loving them is simply for who they are. No matter what your “type” is, your Twin will become the most amazingly beautiful and fantastic human being that you have ever encountered. You will have a longing and lust for them that does not fade. You want to merge with them on ALL levels of their being.

If you are married at the time of meeting your Twin, your marriage will slowly become more and more unappealing. You will feel as if you are cheating on your Twin whilst being with your spouse. You will only have eyes for your Twin, and being intimate with your partner will become increasingly more difficult. Your soul wants nothing to do with this lower vibrational act of love, regardless of how much you care for your spouse as a person. They will never, ever hold a candle to your Twin Flame. Your mind will try and convince you of the human made laws of marriage, but your soul and heart will put up the rigorous fight to this core value which no longer serves you.

You will dream of this person, and many times this will be a lucid dream. You will be able to manipulate the dream into whatever you wish, and these dreams are the prerequisite of what is required of you in order to come into Union. Just like a dream, your waking reality requires and allows you to manipulate your circumstances into whatever you wish. (I will get into this in another article). The more harmonious your dreams are that involve your Twin, the closer you are to Union.

Your physical appearances will merge. This is a huge sign, and especially apparent if you are a Twin couple with an age gap. At the time of the younger Twins birth, the older Twin will begin to evolve and change physically. The older Twin will begin to shed their “old looks” in order to match his or her Twin. They will be able to look back at pictures of themselves and be unrecognizable. At the time of meeting, you and your Twin will be “identical”, regardless of age or race. You will be able to take a split screen picture of each face and put them side by side, and they will match perfectly.

You will find synchronicity in; your names (one of your names will be found with in the other’s), your birthday’s, the day you met, and even in your phone numbers. This requires a little bit of detective work, but if you are curious, you will be aligned to see it. Everything is pre-planned for you to be able to recognize this person as your Twin, this is all set up by your Higher Selves pre-birth.

Your Twin will test your faith, patience, and emotional stability. They do this completely unknowingly, and you agreed to this before you incarnated here. Everything that you need to work on, your Twin will put on display. This will be extremely exaggerated through them, and it is there once again to catch your attention. Whatever you need to work on within yourself will be magnified exponentially so you can get the picture and fix it. Your Twin is your greatest mirror, everything that you accuse them of being, you are accusing yourself of. You yourself are the only one who is with-holding your Union. Your Twin is ready for you as soon as you Align yourself.

You, or they, will have a strong urge to run for the hills. Notice here I said strong urge. If you do become physically separated, it is never for long, and it is always guided. This connection can be very overwhelming, especially in the beginning, and one or both of you will want to retreat back to “your old life”. However, you are here for a higher purpose and the Universe and your Higher Selves were prepared for this. This statement may upset some who feel they have met their Twins and have lost them, however this is important, and I want to make this very clear. Should you and your Twin separate, this is not permanent. If you have met your Twin Flame in this lifetime, the two of you WILL be together, permanently. There is no “maybe in the next lifetime, we met too soon.” If you have encountered your TRUE Twin Flame, you will reunite as a couple in the physical here and now. Should you have lost your Twin for an extended amount of time, this person was a soul catalyst, and NOT your Twin Flame. You and your Twin will never stay apart long, it is impossible and it goes against the whole reason you incarnated here together and met in the physical. Do you truly believe all of these signs and preparations for the two of you were all for nothing? You will both fulfill your purpose here TOGETHER, United in love.

How To Recognize A Twin Flame

There are many signs and characteristics that the twin relationship has that can help you decide if you’ve met your twin. Chances are though, if you’re awake, aware, and have been doing your inner work, you already know. Twin relationships aren’t necessarily harmonious; in fact twin flames when uniting can go through a lot of cleansing, purging and energy releasing within the chakra system. The biggest sign is the amount of energy that is created when they come together. Do not be confused by emotional or physical attraction, this energy that is created is something completely different. When and if you experience this amount of energy you will know. It is thought that only graduate souls are finding their Twins souls/Flames on Earth as their purpose is to do healing and spiritual work on the planet at this time.

The place of meeting. It was as if they fell out of the sky and into your lap. Neither one of you were looking for each other, it was Divine timing and circumstance that brought you together. Sometimes it is quite symbolic.

They are your mirror. They will mirror back to you everything in your life that you need to address. Everything that has not been healed. They are there to show you YOU. Sometimes your entire life can change upon meeting them.

The amount of energy created when you are together is magnetic. People around you will notice and feel the power between you. When you are together you can be an unstoppable force!

You psychic and intuitive senses will be heightened upon meeting.

There is usually something significant about their birthdate. They do not have to be born on the same day, month, or year, but there is just something peculiar about their date.

The deep respect and love for each other means you will never want to hurt each other, and if there is a fight or disagreement between the two of you, it can feel devastating.

You feel an almost immediate bond or connection with them usually right after meeting them. Like you’ve known them before or their energy feels very familiar.

You will both complement each other. Your skillsets or abilities will work perfectly together because you’ve developed what the other one lacks or needs in your separation. And together you can work Magic!

You can feel each other even when you are apart. You have a hard time getting them out of your mind. It could feel like an obsession but it is not. It is that you are so closely connected that you literally FEEL each other. Sometimes the time apart feels unbearable.

You feel as if you are Home, that time stands still when you are with them; in other words, you have the ability to collapse time. And sometimes they might feel like a dream or unreal to you. But although you remain separate beings with your own individual life path you feel a sense of completeness with them.

Even something as small as a hug can carry an intense surge of energy.

They have similar beliefs and a life path to yours.

You will want to give to them without ever wanting in return. Giving is the nature of this relationship.

One of the most important signs that you have met your twin is that you have a feeling that this is something very different than any other relationship you have encountered before. The feelings you have for them sometimes cannot even be put into words. Total unconditional and complete love and acceptance. There is a special sacredness about your relationship that transcends anything you have ever experienced before. In essence, you already know, you will feel it with your whole being. No other relationship will be as life changing.

You are aware that the purpose of your relationship is to bring something extraordinary to the world for the betterment of the planet.

And lastly, one of my personal favorites is noticing the numbers 11:11. This number can appear anywhere. You may see it on clocks, receipts, computers etc. and in my own personal journey seeing 11:11 has always been a confirmation that I was on the right path, or a “Yes” to a thought I was having right before I noticed the time. It appears a lot when we are going through a growth stage. There are other meanings for 11:11. But that’s another whole topic on its own.

These are some of the biggest signs of a twin relationship. Sometimes, however, one twin may not be ready for the other one, either because of their unwillingness or fear of dealing with their own issues and emotional baggage and maybe a “Flame Runner”. They may want to run away from the amount of energy or intensity of the relationship. Or if when they look into your eyes the reflection back of themselves is too much to deal with. If that is the case, have patience and trust in knowing that you will be together again when both are ready for the cleansing and clearing necessary. This intense repelling and magnetic attraction is a common theme among twins and the reunion will take place when both are ready to be fully healed. If you have been lucky enough to find this once in many lifetimes relationship, cherish it and know that it is here to bring you to your utmost spiritual growth. The twin flame relationship changes your life. It challenges each soul to grow and expand into their highest potential to fulfill their mission and purpose on the planet and in each other’s lives. If you are still searching, stop the search outward and go inward and focus on you. You won’t find them by searching, they will find you, through Love. That’s all. Through time and space, they will find you through Love.

8 Major Twin Flame Stages

Twin flames are said to be beings that aid our souls in finding completion. Ancient Greek philosopher Plato first created the idea of souls “split in two” that eternally yearn to find their “other halves.” These days we still carry around this idea of “find our other half,” but unfortunately we believe that it is absolutely imperative for us to find another person to be complete. Please keep in mind that while twin flames do help us to experience unconditional love and grow immensely as people, not all of us find our twin flames, and not all of us need twin flames to feel complete. Please read “7 Common Myths Embellishing Twin Flame Relationships” to read more about this. Also, it helps to remember that the degree to which you can experience harmony in your twin flame relationship is dependent on your level of soulful maturity. For example, two old souls will have a much easier time at “holding it all together” than two young souls. You can read more about soul ages. So keeping this in mind, what are the eight major twin flame stages that you’ll likely experience in your relationship?

Stage One – Yearning for “The One”: In this preliminary stage, you have spent your entire life pining for “The One” that doesn’t yet exist in your life. You have this strange sensation that someone who is perfectly molded to you is “out there” but you don’t quite know where or when they will appear in your life. Although you ache for your twin flame, you have a feeling they will appear to you at some point. This stage is also sometimes spent “preparing” for the arrival of the twin flame on an unconscious level. In my instance, I had to learn how to love myself before I met mine. For others, this stage of preparation involves the development of self-awareness, discovery, and understanding.

Stage Two – Glimpsing “The One”: At some point, you will have a brief glimpse of your twin flame. Whether this is through a dream signal, or through a real-life meeting, suddenly the Beloved can be sensed. The result is profound. Wonder, joy, anxiety, and intoxication quickly ensue. For those cautious among us, a lingering sense of intense curiosity and desire to get to know the person better is the result. You don’t know what it is exactly, but this person is extremely special. Like me, you may even sense that this person will play an immensely important role in your life – even before you know them properly.

Stage Three – Falling in Love: When you fall for this person, you will fall very, very hard. You will fall harder than you have ever fallen for anyone – and the impact will knock the breath right out of you. In fact, as you get to know your twin flame better, you will fall more and more deeply in love with them. As a result, you’ll find it hard to stand with two feet on the ground. You might feel disorientated, lovesick and “unlike yourself.” You may even try to resist the attraction, but eventually, you’ll accept the reality that you’re deeply and madly in love.

Stage Four – The Fairy-Tale Relationship: As both of you eventually make your feelings known and enter into a relationship, life will feel like a fairy-tale. Your relationship with them will be perfect in every possible way. It will seem as though your twin flame fulfills every single need you have and everything you ever possibly wanted. This taste of “paradise” is what the matured twin flame relationship looks like after the next few stages of turmoil.

Stage Five – Outer Turmoil and Inner Purging: In this stage, there is trouble in paradise. As the ecstasy from the initial meeting period wears off, egos start to flare up. Suddenly differences in opinion, taste, and personality arise, and old core wounds emerge out of the gloom. While our twin flames share and mirror our deepest needs, desires, and dreams, they also tend to mirror our shadow selves. For example, if you are an emotionally repressed person, your twin flame will likely be emotionally explosive. If you tend to be arrogant, your twin flame will most likely be uncertain and quiet. In this way our twin flames challenge us, riling up our insecurities. This can be infuriating, devastating and very painful. While all the arguing and fighting in this stage may seem disastrous, the truth is that it is necessary for our growth. Without being provoked, without seeing ourselves for who we “really” are, we live in illusion and fail to grow soulfully. But this is certainly hard to realize while you’re going through such turbulence in your relationship!

Stage Six – The Runner and Chaser: As tensions mount it is common for one partner (or sometimes both) to emotionally or physically withdraw and “run” away, and another to pursue in a game of cat and mouse. Sometimes this involves emotional shutdown and silent treatments. Other times this involves physical separation and in extreme cases, the permanent termination of the relationship. In this stage, twin flames experience a trial by fire. While some relationships last and are strengthened, others crumble to pieces. As I mentioned at the start, this is all dependent on each partner’s soulful maturity. Sometimes one partner leaves for many years and then returns, only to repeat the cycle once again. The chaser, on the other hand, tends to be the more mentally and emotionally mature partner of the two, trying to sort everything out and make amends.

Stage Seven – Surrender and Dissolution: Once the shadow of your relationship has been revealed, you may experience a period of surrender. After so much anguish, distress and provocation, you both begin to open up about your wounds and insecurities. In this stage, it is common to experience a lot of ego dissolution and soulful expansion. As the ego relaxes, powerful lessons are learned about the nature of oneself and the nature of the “other.” As you begin learning how to work through your differences, the maturity of your relationship deepens and thus strengthens.It is common to go through stages six and seven many times throughout your relationship.

Stage Eight – Oneness: As the problems in your relationship become increasingly easy to deal with, you will enter a period of soul reunion. In stage eight it is common for you to both find a shared meaning, passion or cause that brings you a mutual sense of fulfillment. As the ego continues to relax, virtues such as forgiveness, understanding, empathy, and patience are learned. The more you both work through each issue that comes your way vigilantly, the more you experience the sensation of “Oneness,” or ego death.

Common Twin Flame Difficulties

Now for the famous Twin Flame Obstacles. Quite a few of you will see these as “blocks” to your Union, but they are not, they are in place for a reason. As soon as you see them as “blocks”, or “obstacles”, that is exactly what they become. These characteristics are here for you to transcend them, because Love doesn’t see anything other than itself. The soul does not care about the human standards of “right and wrong”, as there is no right or wrong. There is only Love. You are meant to bridge the gap between percieved, man-made separations and belief systems that serve nothing but egoic standards. You can choose to either notice them as obstacles, or you may transcend them, which will catapult you into Union. When twin souls first meet even in their final incarnation, some of them will have differences in physical, emotional and intellectual content of the two personalities. Firstly, one soul has to adjust his difficulties within himself. Then he has to match whatever he has to the other. That means he has to clear all his own foibles, needs, cravings and ill will before he meets his twin as a fully satisfied individual. He should be ready to serve the other by putting the requirements of the other twin before his own. And vice versa. The struggle between themselves and together will definitely go to enhance the twinship. This is so because they have different psychological background and different personalities with emotional divergence. There will be normal conflicts when the two have such a close relationship, but the conflicts will be rapidly resolved. This is because their goal is the same. The emotional conflict is almost unbearable because they are twins. So in order not to see the other suffer, they tend to solve the problem as soon as possible.As they have been travelling by themselves, they have earned good and bad karma of their own. Once they meet and work together, they must now try and clear both karmic debts jointly. Similarly, good karma earned by both independently will be enjoyed by both. In fact, as karma is created at the soul level, both have been influenced by the other’s karma imperceptibly. There will definitely be stress in some couples, and in these they may even break up temporarily. Some couples will have to suffer together because of joined karma. There are so many possibilities in so many combinations and permutations. In some, the different backgrounds and karma would have brought together two very different individuals. This fact does not bother them at all. In this instance, “opposites do attract”. All the differences go to complement their lives. So differences in physical, emotional and psychological make up do not tear them apart irrevocably, because their souls are joined together like Siamese twins. The compatibility here is at the spiritual level. That alone counts. The obstacles within the individual should mostly be solved by the time of the meeting. However, there may be few external obstacles that present themselves. One or both twins could have already been married when they meet. The eternal triangle is usually dealt by the almost enlightened individuals with accommodation to the existing families. If one were to hear that someone has walked out on the family to be with his or her twin soul, one can rest assured that it is not a twin soul union in their final incarnation. The already committed twin is too responsible and would continue to honour the pre-existing marriage. The twins will know that there must be a very good reason for this inconvenience. It could be a test or because of unresolved karmic obligations. The twins would then remain as loving friends or colleagues without marriage disruptions. This is due to fact that they are no more powered by passionate physical sex, as their love is above that. They may meet at night in spirit for the purpose of uplifting a common cause. They may meet in either the astral or mental world. They know that their separation is temporary and nothing in the world can stop their final union. Of course very occasionally their meeting could precipitate a marriage breakup, but this is with a marriage that is already collapsing. The breakup may induce some benefit to the aggrieved members, who can start anew with their own new partners. With this in mind, the twins who are uniting in this last incarnation, would have cultivated fidelity, joy, love and trust, and their union would be as solid as a rock. However, there may still be a few cases, where one soul has not reached the same level as the other. One partner may outgrow the other, and the demands of the less developed may be irksome to most other partners. However to the developed twin this mild set back must be met with tolerance and patience, otherwise the growth may be stunted. At this juncture it is a shame to let the stunting be a deterrent for further growth. For instance, if one soul were to suffer from some neurotic illness, this fact may be detrimental for both. So the care-giving partner has to sacrifice his smooth progression to confront the neurotic partner with the truth of the difficulty. This may rock the marriage, but it has to be done.You do not spare the rod because you are afraid to hurt the naughty child. The soft stance will hurt the child more at a later date. This self-sacrifice must be persistent and long standing otherwise it will not work, for most neurotic diseases are brought over from past lives. One example of a twin flame is the relationship between Jughead Jones and Veronica Lodge also known as Jeronica, although these two people haven't realized yet they are twin flames and are destined for each other.

#jeronica #riverdale #twin flame

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