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lucienlowell · 4 years ago

Text

Done some translatin.

So I did mention I was translating from the Chronicles of Light novel, yes?

Finished the side story with smol!Zenos, and oh god I didn’t need these fucking feels yet here they are--

Ahem. Observe.

Until These Fists Are Dyed With Blood

To be born as the prince of a great nation that intends to rule over the whole world; is that truly a blessing, or is it a curse? To Zenos, the great-grandson of Solus zos Galvus, the first emperor of the Garlemald Empire, it was a curse. Though perhaps more accurately, he had no reason to think of it as a curse, but nor was it a blessing, as he was unable to make that judgment. To begin with, Zenos was a lonely person. Hardly had his mother given birth to him before passing away from illness, and due to the strife in the imperial court and the constant campaigns into foreign lands, he almost never even saw his father's face. Though he was surrounded by servants, to him they were little more than soulless automatons, the very same as any magitek construct, and he did not think of them as "human". Even those attending the same lessons as him, to the gifted and brilliant Zenos, were relentlessly boring, and he much preferred to spend his time in the company of books, finding them far better conversants. Living in such a manner, of course one would know not the innocence of a usual childhood. And so to Zenos, every day until the time he was fourteen years old held nothing more than "boredom".

"Draw your blade." That was the order the man gave him, when first they met. On that day, as part of his studies in becoming the nation's leader someday, Zenos began to undergo military training under the supervision of a teacher brought to the royal palace. However, this man was no well-known soldier, but an unknown figure. Though they resided in a frigid land, his skin held a deep tan baked into him by the sun, and his body was kept in excellent condition. Notably, as well, he did not have the familiar third eye on his forehead. Yes, he was not a Garlean, but from one of the provinces. However, that noted, that was where any possible interest ended. Once he had given the man a distant once-over, any shine of intrigue promptly faded from Zenos' eyes. Silently, he nodded his head. Just like all his other studies, he found training a source of naught but boredom as well. Even so, he diligently allowed himself to be taught the proper way to grasp a sword, and how to place his hands and feet. In the very depths of his heart, he was already intolerably bored, but to refuse would be too troublesome, so Zenos tightened his grip on the blunt training sword he held - and the next moment, the man was on the floor. He didn't understand. One moment he had been standing, and the very next, he could not rise again, his vision a blur. He hadn't even seen the sword move, yet he knew he had taken a crushing blow to the head. "You have perished." Saying only that, Zenos turned his back on the man he had been looking down on. "W, wait...your training is still..." Staggering to his feet, though he was still very off balance, the man spoke to Zenos. However, Zenos did not look back. "Dead men can teach nothing. They can only sleep."

After the shock of that meeting, Zenos' life was forever changed. He was to undergo training three times a week, but instead of waiting for two days to pass, he was summoned the next day instead. "Draw your blade." Given the same bland order as the previous day, Zenos considered it thoroughly. He had no wish to repeat the same unsightly technique as before. Not taking his eyes off of the foreign man, he carefully drew close to the sword leant against a nearby wall, and just as he took hold of the hilt, he was forced to fend off an unexpectedly violent assault. However, it was futile. Before he could even come within striking range, he was felled by a fierce blow to the chest. Now it was he who could not even see the attacking blade. From that day forth, that was the way things would be. This was the first time Zenos could remember that his existence had ever had meaning. Apart from his father, every last one of the adults around him had treated him with the honor and respect befitting a prince. Therefore, in his training and his studies alike, Zenos seized upon every opportunity to try and shock those around him. But from this mysterious foreigner, he received not even the slightest bit of respect, nor could he read even the tiniest of hints in the man's stance. And as he was overpowered again and again by this strange and crushing technique, the torment within Zenos grew. Ten days passed in much the same way. Stretching his sore shoulders, Zenos was returning to his room after finishing a training session when he was summoned by his father, Varis. "Is your training progressing well?" Of course, he didn't need an answer. There had been detailed reports from all the servants, and he could see the wounds that had been left behind. Yet even if not for that, the obvious aftereffects would have told the story all on their own. "Yes, Father. Nothing to worry about..." Zenos answered with a thin, emotionless smile on his face. The situation around this trial, such as it was, that Varis had bestowed upon his son had become more than a little warped, yet Zenos felt no anger or humiliation. This was the first time he'd ever had a situation he had to fight to overcome, and the foreigner now had value to him as a challenge and an enemy. Perhaps he could consider this a gift from his father, and he was certainly the type of person to take in every last bit of something given him. Questions and answers, one by one - after several months of the usual back-and-forth between father and son, their conversations were full of only cold indifference. This was what the Galvus legacy had become.

Three weeks had passed. Zenos had still been unable to land so much as a single counterattack, even though he was now able to track the man's every swordstroke. Therefore, using the opportunity after the foreigner had returned home for a time, he took matters into his own hands. Making frequent visits to the library inside the royal palace, he lost himself within every relevant book he could get his hands on, seeking to discern the origins of the man's strange methods. It was there, within the wartime memoirs of a seasoned soldier, that he came upon the tale of trying to learn a certain technique used in Corvos, the southern region of the continent of Ilsabard - something called the "Unyielding Blade", passed down through generations but never taught in any school. From then on, he ceaselessly sought for any possible way to learn about the Unyielding Blade, but his efforts there came to naught. He could find no books from that foreign land.

Since he could not learn the necessary information from any book, he had no choice but to try his hand at it physically. The next week, he threw himself singlemindedly into watching every one of the man's movements as closely as he could. His footwork, the way he wielded his sword, even the way he grasped its hilt...one by one, Zenos brought every last factor to light and committed them all to memory. Finally, after a month's time had passed, and after being so sorely beaten countless times, Zenos felt he could at last defend himself against the man's swordsmanship.

That day's training began just as usual. Coldly ordered to "Draw your blade", Zenos casually made his way to where the sword left for him to practice with was leant up against the wall. However, today, he had a plan. As soon as he took the sword into his hand, he turned his back and slashed out behind him. The man had not even made it within a distance of ten steps before, eyes wide, he was forced to jump aside. It seemed meaningless for Zenos to have turned away, but beyond the visible portion of his sword, a formless shockwave of a blade had leapt forth. "You bastard, how did you..." It was no wonder the man was so surprised. That was a technique passed down only through word of mouth to a select few. Though Zenos had been unaware of this, the man was a great swordsmaster from the subjugated region of Corvos, and the last in existence to know that technique. He and those like him, the wielders of the Unyielding Blade, had risen up in revolt against the imperial army - yet before the might of Varis' army, they had been rendered powerless, their numbers reduced to nothing. As the greatest of them, he had been taken prisoner, forced to follow Varis' orders to keep his family safe, and hence he had been brought to serve at the royal palace. In truth, he was there to teach Varis' firstborn son the meaning of failure. Apart from him, there was no one else in the world who should be capable of using the technique. And furthermore, if it was to be taught to someone, they would have to be capable of manipulating aether to perform it successfully, as it was an art reliant on magic. As Garleans had little to no innate ability to manipulate and utilize aether, it should have been impossible for Zenos. However, even without being taught, the Garlean boy had managed to pull it off. Somehow, he had done the impossible. "I have figured it out." Seeming bored to tears, Zenos spoke coldly to the shocked man. "Do not make light of the history of Corvos, whelp!" The man's fury was boiling over. To him, to bear this knowledge alone had been his mission; never had he intended for such an impertinent princeling to steal the secret from him. Truth be told, if he had thought himself capable of it, he would have slain Varis and made his escape from the palace long ago. And if not for the lives of his wife and daughter hanging in the balance, taking revenge for his deceased allies would have been the only thing on his mind. At that very instant, however, the man threw all his plans aside, wanting only to slay the boy who stood before him. For the art that had been so carefully passed down from generation to generation to be used so readily by a Garlean - and the son of his enemy, at that - was an insult to his pride that he simply could not bear. He could be patient no longer. "You are not worthy of the Unyielding Blade!" In the hands of one well-trained in the arts of the sword, and of manipulating their own corporeal aether, the technique could easily kill a man. And the swordsmaster from Corvos was prepared to kill. As he looked at the blindly furious man, Zenos began to laugh. He did not make to dodge, only to strike. Raising his sword, he wielded the invisible blade, rendering the man's own attempt nothing but dust. From there, it was decided. Dogs in the vicinity began to howl, as they would when chasing prey. Over and over again, Zenos let fly the Unyielding Blade with calculated ease, and it was not long before the man was backed into a corner. Though he was seeing it firsthand, the man could hardly believe his eyes. Zenos' martial ability was truly unparalleled. "That may be the way of it, but--" The swordsmaster's blade swinging down as if he was praying for it to reach its destination, its final cruel strike wavered, then dissipated. Zenos' training sword was now embedded deeply into the man's chest. "Dead men can teach nothing. They can only sleep...isn't that so?" Though the man heard that quiet murmur, somehow he could not understand it. And the next moment, he collapsed. Zenos held out his bloodied palms to the dead man, who lay wide-eyed on the ground. In them, fragments of crystal were embedded. "Yet while you lived still, you taught me one thing. Being unable to utilize one's own corporeal aether is unexpectedly inconvenient. In order to use the Unyielding Blade technique, I am forced to rely on cheap tricks." Zenos plucked the shards free, brow furrowing at the sharp pain. In order to use his aether to bolster his abilities, he had driven them deeply into his own flesh. Utilizing a crystal containing a very high concentration of aether would theoretically allow one to surpass their own limits, but it was an extremely risky procedure. Therefore, just so he would be able to properly wield that technique, he had done all the dangerous but necessary research on his own self. He continued speaking eloquently to the corpse that lay before him. "After all of that, it seems nothing else will ever live up to the thrill of this battle. I expected this, and yet... Having now experienced it personally, I find myself quite disappointed. That is what you taught me." Using a fingertip to toy with the crystal shards, Zenos flicked them to the ground next to the man's corpse. "This is my thanks for that lesson. Hold onto it for me." And that was how the first "worthy" battle that Zenos yae Galvus ever fought was ended. After leaving the training hall, he washed away the sweat, changed his clothes, and as he ate his dinner, proceeded to completely forget the man's face. Perhaps someday he would find another foe, like the heroes whose names were etched into the annals of history, who would grant him another thrilling battle - it was with that wish that he settled into his bed. And that night, for the first time in a long while, Zenos was able to sleep soundly.

#final fantasy xiv #chronicles of light #zenos yae galvus #translatin #oh #welp #FEELS

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parttimefairy · 6 years ago

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Eternal Vows

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Wordcount: 1,215

Pairing: Kiralfonse / Alfokiran

Summary: On their wedding day, Alfonse and Kiran share their vows and look back on their shared memories.

Excerpt: “ I don’t know how you managed to make me open up to you, but you did. And I’m glad that you did. Somehow you were able to bring joy to me amidst ranging wars. At first, you helped me progress all the things we’ve seen and done. And later I found comfort in your presence to the point that, whenever you weren’t around, I wasn’t myself anymore “

Dress, Crown

Originally written to cheer up @summoner-stones. I hope you feel better soon!

The day had finally come. The day of the royal wedding of the crown prince Alfonse of Askr and his beloved Summoner Kiran had finally arrived. After all this time, they were finally able to spend the rest of their lives together. Even though the preparations were tiring and seemed to be never-ending, the couple stood strong and was full of excitement.

The castle’s chapel was already filled with a variety of different people from all over the continent. Among them were many familiar faces, friends the two made along their way. Alfonse, already standing in front of the altar, letting his eyes wander over the waiting guests. Were they as nervous as he was? Was Kiran as nervous as he was? Meanwhile, the bride, accompanied by the princess of Askr and Alfonse’s sister Sharena, walked down the corridor leading to the chapel’s entrance where both were already greeted by the bright smile of Queen Henriette, Kiran’s soon to be mother-in-law.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, dear”, the older woman proudly said, “just like a real princess.”

Her wedding dress was a gorgeous combination of white silk and shimmering lace which made the Summoner glow in a beautiful aura. Under her long veil, her dark, wavy hair was cascading over her shoulder and back, creating a stunning contrast to the light gown. In addition, a delicate crown, decorated with golden leaves and jewels, was placed on top of her head, finishing her ensemble.

“I’m so nervous. I fell like as if my knees are made of jelly!”, the Summoner exclaimed. Sharena was the first to react to that statement: “Aww, c’mon! I bet my brother is even more nervous. You know how he is – always overthinking things. Right now, he probably thinks that you have run away!” “Sharena, you shouldn’t say that. Now…”, the Queen directed her daughter towards the open door and turned to her future daughter-in-law. Taking her hand, she said: “We shouldn’t let Alfonse wait any longer. Are you ready?” With a deep breath and a nod, Kiran gave her consent.

Accompanied by the music of the piano and some violins, the young woman walked down the aisle, guided by Henriette.

To say that Alfonse was speechless because of Kiran’s appearance would be an understatement. He was dazed by her looks. He himself wasn’t looking half bad, dressed in a uniform like suit. Yet, Kiran, so he thought, was as beautiful as the sun. Upon her arrival at the altar, the prince has found his voice again, whispering as he took the hand of his beloved: “You are so beautiful.”

The ceremony was beautifully arranged and very emotional for all the guests and foremost for the bride and groom.

“Dear Prince Alfonse, dear Lady Kiran, we shall now progress with a tradition from the lands of the bride’s world. You may get up to say your vows”, the master of ceremony explained, placing Kiran’s hand in Alfonse’s. The blue haired prince was the first to promise his eternal love:

“It is funny how time changes us. When I first met you all this time ago, I tried my best to not come close to you for I was afraid of getting hurt again. I tried to see you only as an ally, as the legendary hero that the legends have promised. And at first, I was able to do so. Then I’ve got to know you better. I’ve got to see that you feared this new world, you feared your unexpected summoning that ripped you out of all the things you knew. And I felt guilty. But we had to adapt to the new situation and the war. Gods, you were so strong.

I don’t know how you managed to make me open up to you, but you did. And I’m glad that you did. Somehow you were able to bring joy to me amidst ranging wars. At first, you helped me progress all the things we’ve seen and done. And later I found comfort in your presence to the point that, whenever you weren’t around, I wasn’t myself anymore. I might have been pretty dense to not realize the meaning of this new feeling. And it made me scared, oh so scared. The thing that I feared the most had come back, and I did not know how to deal with properly. I wished that this feeling of longing for your warmth would just disappear. How wrong I was. Thank you for not letting me go when I was trying to avoid you, when I treated you badly. Thank you for showing me the most beautiful kind of love a man could hope for. Kiran, you are my partner, my tactician, my Summoner, my best friend and my love. I love you, and this I swear, for the rest of my life and after.”

With a faint blush on his cheeks, Alfonse took the ring and gently pushed it on Kiran’s finger:

“With this ring I promise you to look after you, to be there for you even if my royal duties are keeping me away from you and to love you in good and bad times until death do us part.”

Kiran, visibly moved by Alfonse’s words, took a moment to contain her overjoyed emotions. After a short pause, the young woman was able to give her own vow to her beloved prince:

“If I told you that I fell for you the moment I saw you, would you believe that? It is true, though. There was something that drew me to you. At first, I just wanted to know about you and the way this world works. But after some time that just wasn’t enough anymore. I wanted more. I wanted to spend more time with you, be near you. And you were there for me when I was thrown into a world of cruelty and violence. You helped me cope with all this traumatic experience. We would just sit somewhere and talk. You might not know this but from every conversation to the next I was looking forward even more to be able to talk to you again. And there was this feeling that crept into my heart without me noticing it. Originally, I never intended to stay longer than I was needed. In the beginning, I always thought to myself that whenever the war would be over, I would be able to return home. But I learned something during the times I spend with the Order and especially with you. Home is not a place, or a house where your belongings are. Home is that one person that is always waiting for your safe return, who is always there when you need a shoulder to lean on, who always gives you the feeling of being important and loved. For me this person is you. You are my home and my everything. I am glad I came here to be your Summoner. I am glad that we were able to get closer, to fall in love and to share a life. I love you, I always have and always will. I am so proud to say that I were to marry my best friend and other half. I love you so much and promise you to do so for the rest of my days.” With shaking hands the Summoner placed the other ring on the hand of her husband and continued: “Let's build a future together, my love. With this ring, I swear to stand by your side when times are hard. I swear to hold your back and foremost I swear to be the home for you to return to when times are hard. And I promise to love you for forever and a day.”

After a brief shared look of the couple, the master of ceremony continued to announce them as officially husband and wife:

“By the holy dragons blessing, I pronounce you husband and wife. May your love shine brightly for the whole kingdom and its future.”

He took a quick glance at Kiran and continued: “Now, if we follow the tradition of the foreign world one thing is left for you to do, Prince Alfonse. You may kiss your wife.”

Instantly, Alfonse blushed a deep shade of red, yet he gently placed his hand on his wife’s cheek and leaned in closer. Their lips met in a gentle kiss filled with love and joyful anticipation for their shared future.

#alfokiran #alfonse #kiran #summoner #kiralfonse #kifonse #feh #fire emblem heroes #i write sometimes

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max-is-tired · 6 years ago

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Look Into My Eyes (It’s Where My Demons Hide)

Pairing: Analogical, background Royality

Characters: Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Caelius (OC), Amelia (OC), Emile Picani (mentioned)

Words: 5.686

Warnings: Blood, stab wound (mentioned, not graphic but it’s there), kidnapping, mind control, referenced past abuse, referenced past kidnapping, vampires, witches, I should have tagged everything but please let me know if I missed something!!

Notes: It will be very short, I said. 1k words max, I said. Nothing big, I said. If this is what past me said, then why THE FUCK DID THIS BECOME A 5K+ MONSTER WHAT THE HECK-

Just to make you guys understand real quick why I say this fic got out of control. I've got an entire AU out of this. I need help.

Finally, after days of endless crying and typing and editing, here is my piece for @darknightvirgil's Halloween exchange, for none other than the amazing @virgilmydarkstrangeson !!! I really really hope you like your gift Nate, and I'm incredibly sorry for being so late!

Hit me up if you want to be added to the taglist and let me know if you liked this, reblogs, comments and asks are always very welcome and much appreciated!

Read it on AO3!!

Once, when he was a kid, Logan had asked his mother what love was.

“That’s a very difficult question to answer.” She had said, carefully mulling the question over and over in her head. “Let’s see. Love is… caring for someone in such a powerful way that just being near them is enough to make you smile. It’s being happy when they’re happy. It’s finding yourself doing everything possible to cheer them up when they’re sad. Love is also a risk though, because to fall in love means giving someone the power to break your heart in a million pieces with a snap of their fingers. Love can also mean pain, so heartbreaking and painful that you can barely breathe.”

“But if it can hurt so much, why do people fall in love?”

“Because for the right person, it will be worth it.”

He didn’t understand back then, what she meant. The concept of ‘love’ –something so powerful and mighty, able to make people move mountains and defeat entire armies- felt so foreign to him, like some sort of intangible, unattainable goal. He figured he would get it, one day. And yet, time passed, and he kept living his life without understanding.

Maybe he wasn’t meant for love, he thought.

Then, he met Virgil.

Virgil had barged into Logan’s life without a warning, completely turning his whole world upside down. He had been the first person that seemed to actually enjoy Logan’s company, listening to his ramblings and often helping him with his researches. The worked well together, like a well-oiled machine, and with time Logan had found himself enjoying the anxious man’s company more and more.

Suddenly, his mother’s words started to make sense.

Now three years have passed, and Logan feels like a schoolgirl on her first crush.

“Honestly Lo, why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Patton asks, his cheerful voice filling the apartment. “I know you like to pretend you don’t have feelings, but-”

“I do not pretend, Patton.” Logan snaps, face turning into a scowl as he keeps searching for the book he’s looking for. “While it is true that I quite enjoy Virgil’s companionship, we should not forget the fact that he’s just a human. Harboring such feelings for him would be a really foolish action on my part.”

“Oh, shut up Specs!” Roman interjects, “You’re head over heels for that guy, and the sooner you stop denying it the better!”

“Excuse me?!” Logan bristles, pivoting on his heels to glare at the other. “I am not, thank you very much.”

Roman simply raises an eyebrow, clearly not affected by Logan’s heated glare. “Logan, I listened to you ranting about him for over three hours the other day.”

“I am not in love with Virgil, and that is final.”

Roman opens his mouth, probably more than ready to keep pushing his foolish argument, but gets interrupted by Patton, who has moved to stand between the two.

“Stop it right now, both of you!” he chides, bringing out his dad voice, “Roman, you know how touchy this subject is for Logan, so stop pushing him and try to be a little more tactful next time.”

Roman rolls his eyes, huffing in annoyance as he looks away and his expression morphs into what can only be described as a pout. Logan can’t help but feel a little smug as he watches Patton scold the other. What he doesn’t expect, however, is for the witch to suddenly turn towards him, disappointed expression still in place.

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, mister!” Patton continues, finger pointed at Logan’s chest, “I know that you don’t like feelings Lo, but this is honestly getting quite ridiculous.”

Logan glares at the shorter man, a flash of gold glinting in his eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you’re talking about, Patton.”

“I think you do, Logan,” Patton counters, expression shifting from scolding to something warmer, more understanding, “and I believe it’s time for you to stop running from yourself.”

Logan stares back, stubbornly trying to hold the other’s gaze –honestly, he doesn’t get why Patton keeps insisting on this particular manner. Logan is fine, always has been, and just because he has suddenly formed a bond with some human it doesn’t mean he would be so foolish to-

“You haven’t told him yet, have you?” Patton’s voice reaches Logan’s ears with sharp clarity, causing his thoughts to screech to a halt. “About your true nature, I mean.”

Logan opens his mouth, more than ready to snap at Patton to stop talking about all this nonsense and just leave him be, but once he finally registers Patton’s expression he finds himself stopping on his tracks. Because Patton is looking at him with so much warmth, gaze soft and comforting –like he understands, like he knows exactly what he’s going through. Then Logan sees Patton’s eyes shift subtly towards Roman, who has been silently listening the whole time, and abruptly realizes that yes, of course Patton understands. How could he not?

Logan’s shoulders slump as he feels all of his rage and indignation rush out of him.

“No, I haven’t,” he admits, looking to the side.

“Is there a reason for it?”

“Patton, he’s a human. A mortal who lives his life under the sun, blessed with ignorance of the more twisted and supernatural aspects of our world. If I were to tell him the truth -that I am a vampire, a blood-thirsty, immortal creature of the night- not only would I destroy that innocence forever, but he surely would-” Logan clamps his mouth shut, trying to stop the words from pouring out of his mouth. He doesn’t need to, though.

“You’re scared he’ll leave.” The other finishes for him, a sad smile making its way to his face. Beside them, Roman moves to stand once again beside Patton, a comforting hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “You’re scared that, once you tell him who you really are, he’ll run away and never come back, terrified by something that you cannot alter or change. And you don’t know if you’ll be able to move on from it.”

Silently, Logan watches as Roman imperceptibly stiffens at Patton words. The witch simply smiles and covers Roman’s hand with his, turning just slightly to look at him.

It’s okay. We’re okay. Patton’s eyes say, and god, if their little show of affection doesn’t make Logan’s heart twist in something akin to longing.

“How did you do it?” he asks, barely a whisper. “How did you tell him who you really were even though you knew it could have driven him away forever?”

“I trusted him.” Patton smiles, letting his body lean on Roman’s side. “I know how scary it sounds, but you’ve known Virgil for over three years now. Do you really think he would leave you forever if he knew?”

“I may not know him as much as you do,” Roman interjects, attracting Logan’s attention, “but for what it’s worth, I really don’t think he will. It’s obvious he cares about you Teach, and I don’t think you being a vampire will change that.”

Logan looks at the two men standing in front of him –a human and a witch, magic and mundane mixing together in such a seamless, unpredictable way- and sighs, his mouth twitching upwards in a hint of a smile.

“Maybe you’re right.” He admits.

The couple grins, sharing a look before turning back to him. “So, this means you’ll tell him?”

“I’ll think about it.”

One week later, and Logan’s still thinking about it.

Not that he doesn’t trust Virgil. Logically, he knows the chances of him just straight up walking out of his life as soon as he learns the truth are quite slim. And yet, he hesitates, letting their frequent hangouts end without him saying anything.

If only Patton could see him now, he would probably be sporting one of his trademarked Disappointed Dad looks.

“So, you snapped at him?” Virgil asks, smirking as he takes a sip from his coffee, “that’s so out of character of you, Logan.”

Logan feels his face flush, gaze shifting to the side as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “He was foolishly denying to acknowledge the rightful connotation of Pluto as a planet. It was my duty as a teacher to correct his flawed statement.”

Virgil raises an eyebrow, visibly amused. “By yelling at the kid, and I quote, Viva la Pluto fuck you?”

“I get really defensive when it comes to astronomy.” Logan concedes.

“That’s quite the understatement if I’ve never heard one!” Virgil snickers, trying –and mostly failing- to keep himself from out-right cackling.

Logan feels his lips twitch upwards, eyes fond as he watches the human laugh –he quite enjoys the times he can get Virgil to act so carefree around him, his smile lighting up his face in a way that leaves Logan breathless every time without fail.

Logan sighs, shaking his head lightly. Virgil is going to be the death of him, he’s sure of it.

Somehow, that thought terrifies him far less than it should.

“Shit!” Virgil suddenly curses, snapping Logan out of his reverie.

“Are you, uh… good, Virgil? Did I use that right?” he asks, bending his head to the side in confusion.

Virgil snorts, stopping his frenzied movements to shake his head in amusement. “Close enough.” He comments, quickly flinging his backpack on his shoulder.

“Sorry to cut this short, but I have a class in less than an hour and if I’m late again the professor is probably going to murder me,” he explains, smiling apologetically.

“Do not worry about it, I understand.” Logan nods, standing up as well. “Our plans for tonight are still in place, I believe?”

Virgil grins, shooting him a thumbs up as he exits the coffee shop. “You betcha, nerd! See you at eight!”

The more their chosen time of meeting approaches, the more Logan starts feeling uneasy.

He doesn’t know the reason, if he has to be honest. Sure, he may or may not be planning to finally talk to Virgil about his…more-than-human nature, let’s say –Roman threatened to trap them both in a really small room if Logan didn’t- but the thought of that causes him to feel nervousness, or even apprehension.

But this, this is a different kind of unease. If Logan had to describe it, he would say it feels like dark heaviness on his shoulders, like vines constricting his very core tighter and tighter as the seconds tick away. It brings back echoes of a past he thought he left behind, of screams and blood and a sick, wide smile Logan’s sure will haunt his nightmares until he draws his last breath.

He hastily shakes his head, snapping out of his thoughts –he won’t let himself get lost in those memories, not now that he has finally managed to move on. More or less, at least.

Logan takes in a shaky breath, fingers moving to fix his tie almost as a second thought –a nervous habit he’s never quite been able to correct. There’s nothing he has to worry about. Virgil will arrive around eight, they’ll settle down on Logan’s couch and they’ll enjoy together the Doctor Who’s new season premiere.

Nothing will happen, he knows that. And yet, the unease doesn’t disappear. It doesn’t disappear while he moves to get his living room set up, or when he goes to his bedroom in order to change into comfier clothes.

When the clock strikes eight fifteen and Virgil –ever-punctual, anxious Virgil, who despise being late like nothing else and never fails to notify him if he does end up getting held back- still hasn’t shown up or sent him a text, Logan knows something is indeed wrong.

He has a bad feeling about this.

Fuck, he’s late.

Virgil sprints down the street, muttering curses through gritted teeth. His photography professor –who had wanted to talk to him for ages about a side project Virgil didn’t want to have anything to do with- had managed to corner him while he was walking out of the library, keeping him from exiting the building until the librarian had basically kicked them out, distracting the man long enough for the anxious student to get away.

And now Virgil is late, his phone dead because he forgot to recharge it. Great. This is fine.

He barely avoids barrelling into another passer-by for the third time in two minutes and fuck it, this is not fine at all.

Virgil briefly pauses and leans with his back on the brick wall of a building, gulping down deep breaths as he tries to fight the anxiety he can feel bubbling in his stomach.

It’s alright, he firmly tells himself, it’s only ten minutes. Logan will understand.

Breathing deeply, Virgil quickly tries to figure out an estimate of the distance between where he is and Logan’s apartment.

“Ten minutes,” he grumbles, hands gripping his backpack’s straps, “I can do this.”

However, just before he can go back to sprinting down the sidewalk while trying to avoid colliding into innocent pedestrians, somebody near him speaks.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” the stranger asks, “but it appears I lost something.”

Virgil looks to his side, annoyed and slightly irritated expression meeting a pair of green eyes framed by perfect red curls. The woman in front of him looks like one of those models posing for the cover of beauty magazines –which, if Virgil wasn’t very much gay and very much in a hurry, would have made him want to at least try to help, but he’s already late and doesn’t want to make Logan wait for him more than strictly necessary.

“I’ sorry,” he starts, already turning around again, “but I’m really late for something and I just can’t help you.”

But before he can even move, a hand shoots out and grabs his arm. “Oh sweetheart, I believe you can.”

All Virgil sees is a pair of golden irises staring back at him, and then everything goes black.

Logan tries to stay put and wait for Virgil, he really does. No need to overreact, after all.

He manages to stop himself for five long, excruciating minutes. Then, all of his resolve gets thrown out of the window. Mind racing, Logan hurries to grab his coat and bolts out of his door, only to find himself face to face with a pair of startled green eyes.

“Roman?” Logan blinks, momentarily confused. From what he knows, the human and Patton had left three days ago to go attend a witches’ gathering that was being organized two towns over, and weren’t set to return for at least five more days. Then why-

“Logan!” Patton cries, approaching them. “Thank god we found you!”

Logan shakes his head. He has no time for this now. “Patton, I am sorry but whatever it is that you have to tell me will have to wait until I can get ahold of Virgil.”

“Wait, the Emo Nightmare is missing?” Roman interjects, eyes widening, “That’s not good.”

“We had arranged to meet up at my house to watch together the new Doctor Who premiere. He’s currently fifteen minutes late, which is very concerning because he’s never late and he never fails to notify me those few times he is.” The vampire explains, before actually registering Roman’s words. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Patton and Roman look at each other, worry and hesitance clear in their eyes. They’re hiding something, he’s sure of it.

“What is going on?” Logan demands, barely stopping himself from openly growling at his two friends. “It is quite obvious that, whatever information you are withholding, both of you believe it might be connected to Virgil’s absence. So tell me. Now.”

“You’re not gonna like it.” Roman warns, expression unusually serious, “Like, at all.”

“Just say it.”

“Caelius is back.” Patton finally reveals. “Emile said he has been spotted almost in all of the towns around here. We came back as soon as he told us.”

Logan freezes, thoughts screeching to a halt as he tries to process Patton’s words. Even after all these years, after all he has done to disappear completely from the radar and finally be able to live a normal life, Caelius has found him –and god if the mere thought of it doesn’t make his blood turn ice cold in his veins, fear knotting his stomach and invading his mind until all he can think of is blood and screams and that sickening grin, that feeling of utter powerlessness he didn’t want to feel ever again-

“You are mine Logan, and always will be. Never forget that.”

Fuck.

“We need to find Virgil. Now.”

When Virgil comes to, the first thing he registers is how fucking cold he is. The second is a head-splitting headache he seems to be suffering from, pounding behind his eyelids with enough force to make him let out a loud, pained groan.

The third thing he registers is the sound of light footsteps approaching, stopping right in front of his face as an all too familiar voice reaches his ears.

“Aw, looks like the boy is finally waking up!”

Virgil’s eyes snap open, immediately meeting a pair of bright green ones staring back at him. He lets out a strangled yelp, memories flooding his brain as he quickly scuttles away from the visibly amused woman –oh fuck he has been kidnapped, what do they want why did they take him he’s gonna die ohygodsomebodyhelp-

“Amelia, stop terrorizing our dear guest.” Another voice interjects, startling Virgil out of his panicking thoughts.

Behind the woman, another person enters the room. He looks rather young, with pale, perfect skin and deep blue eyes surrounded by blonde curls –an angel, something whispers in the back of Virgil’s mind, and he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away as the man approaches them.

“But I didn’t do anything!” the woman –Amelia- exclaims, still grinning as the man stops beside her.

Virgil looks at them, his mind still reeling in fear and confusion, and visibly jumps when the man’s blue eyes suddenly turn to him.

“I don’t understand,” he mutters, studying him in an obvious search for something –what, Virgil has no clue. “Why would Logan be so interested in this human? He looks so... weak.”

That’s when Virgil’s mind completely draws a blank, the sentence replaying over and over in his head as he tries and fails to make sense to the whole situation.

“W-what? How- How do you know Logan?” he stutters, but the two don’t seem to hear him as they keep looking at him –their contemplative, calculating stares unnerve Virgil to no end, the voice in the back of his mind screaming incessantly danger danger danger must get away before-

Suddenly Amelia is standing right in front of him, body bent forward until her face is a few centimeters from Virgil’s. “Maybe it’s his blood?” she wonders, eyes gleaming yellow –why are her eyes yellow I don’t understand somebody help please- “I wouldn’t mind a little sip. Just to check my hypothesis.”

“Just a taste,” Caelius concedes, waving his hand, “he’s no use to me dead.”

The woman grins, sharp canines gleaming in the dimly lit room. Ice cold fear floods Virgil’s veins, every instinct in his head screaming for him to run, get away before something bad happens -but he can’t move, back pressed against the wall and his two captors standing between him and the door –are they even humans? They have fangs and golden eyes and skin so pale they almost seem dead and Virgil doesn’t understand, why did they take him what do they want no no stay away he doesn’t want to die-

Before Virgil can even open his mouth to scream, Amelia is suddenly flying to the other side of the room, colliding with the wall with so much force cracks expand from the point of impact and sagging to the ground with a wordless thump. The other man simply raises an eyebrow, grin widening as he watches the scene unfold.

“Took you long enough, Logan.”

It doesn’t take them long to work out where Virgil is. Patton’s a witch –and quite a strong one at that, with over a century of experience on his shoulders and a member of the Council as his mentor- and a locating spell isn’t difficult to cast. They use a t-shirt Virgil accidentally left behind at Logan’s place during one of their previous hangouts, and once they’ve retrieved a map of the region from the vampire’s study it only takes a few seconds for the spell to work.

Somehow, Logan is not surprised with the location, barely reacting as the pendant points to a point of the map in the middle of nowhere –he knows those coordinates, knows them as he knows his name, and of course Caelius would be there, always a lover for the dramatics.

Because what better place to bring Logan’s beloved –the one obstacle between him and Caelius- than the building where everything started?

Logan glares at Caelius, standing protectively in front of Virgil.

“Caelius.” He calls, blue eyes flashing a furious golden. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

The man laughs, expression full of mirth. “Why, isn’t it obvious? I’m just taking back what is mine.”

“I was never yours in the first place, you self-centered bastard,” Logan growls, forcing himself to ignore Virgil’s whimpering coming from behind him. “Virgil has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, I believe he has everything to do with this.” Caelius purrs, cerulean eyes turning golden as his gaze behind him towards –no, stop it, must keep Virgil safe stop looking at him you filthy monster- “Aren’t I right, Virgil?”

Logan feels it almost immediately, blood turning ice cold in his veins as the sheer strength of Caelius’ power slams into him. It’s a suffocating pressure, like a weight compressing his mind until his grip on reality almost slips away from between his fingers. But this isn’t the first time Logan has been subjected to Caelius’ overwhelming power, and even if it has been decades since he has had to deal with it his instincts don’t fail to kick in, allowing the younger vampire to hold onto his consciousness for dear life.

However, Virgil is a whole different story.

Logan can only watch helplessly as the human stands up, eyes suddenly dull and unfocused, and starts slowly shuffling towards Caelius.

“Exactly as I thought.” The vampire grins, beckoning the boy closer.

“Virgil,” Logan calls, fighting with all of his might Caelius’ influence, “Virgil, you have to fight it!”

He keeps calling and pleading, unable to move and grab the other to stop his advancing steps. But Virgil keeps walking, closer and closer to Caelius’ awaiting hand.

There’s only one thing Logan has yet to try, and even if logically he knows he has next to no chance of success he knows he can’t let Caelius get his hands on the human –HIS human, a voice in Logan’s head roars viciously, something hot and heavy settling in his stomach.

So Logan closes his eyes, taking in a steady breath, and opens.

Them.

Wide.

“Virgil.” He calls, his own magic reaching the other in gentle waves. It’s different from Caelius, whose power is simply overwhelming and paralyzing –Logan’s is more quiet, calculated, hitting the target with accuracy and precision. “Virgil, stop.”

He watches as Virgil’s steps falter, face turning just slightly towards him to show a confused frown –he knows Virgil is there, somewhere, he just has to help him find a way out of Caelius’ control, give him an opening to slip away from the vampire’s vicious grip on his consciousness.

“Virgil, come here,” Logan calls, golden eyes shining with determination as his focus zeroes on the other man –he ignores Caelius’ magic trying to forcefully push his away, grits his teeth and holds his ground with a vengeance.

Seconds pass, tense silence filling the air. Virgil’s body starts shaking, a pained groan escaping his lips as the two vampire’s powers clash and fight all around him. Then, suddenly, he’s staggering backward into Logan’s arms, breath coming out in short, quick gasps –everyone can feel the exact moment Caelius loses his hold over the human, like a rope snapping under too much pressure, loud and clear in their mind.

Logan immediately holds Virgil as close as he can, hand caressing up and down his back as he takes a moment to reassure himself, breathing deeply as he takes in the other’s scent.

“L-Logan-” Virgil whispers, whimpering.

“It’s okay.” Logan murmurs, voice low and reassuring, “You’re okay. I got you.”

“How dare you,” Caelius growls, snapping them out of the moment. “How dare you try and defy me?!”

He’s standing in front of them before they can even process his words. Logan’s instincts immediately kick in, and he turns around so that his back is between Virgil and the incoming blow –whatever Caelius throws at them, he can take. But he won’t let him lift even a finger on Virgil. No more.

However, the hit never comes.

What comes is, actually, Roman’s voice suddenly booming in the room, a yell of “Don’t you dare, you fiend!” followed by the clang of metal and Caelius shout of rage.

When he turns around, Logan finds himself staring at Roman’s back, sword in his hands –the same sword Patton gifted him years ago, the same sword Logan himself taught him how to use- and a very pissed off Caelius growling at them, side dripping with blood.

“You worthless, stupid human, you’re going to pay for this!” the vampire roars, lunging at them with a snarl.

It’s strange, though. Logan remembers Caelius to be a fierce, strong fighter, all quick and fluid movements born from millennia of walking on this Earth. But now his movements seem slower, almost sluggish. Roman has absolutely no problem deflecting the attack, before round-kicking the vampire in the stomach and sending him rolling to the side.

Caelius grunts, landing quite a few feet away from them. He doesn’t get up again.

“Emile enchanted my sword, just before we got back to warn you,” Roman explains, lowering his sword. “He said the spell was made to work specifically on ancient magical creatures like him. Looks like he was right.”

Then he turns around, a weary smile on his face.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

Apparently, going home for them means getting scolded by Patton for a good half an hour, sitting in Logan’s bedroom while the witch heals their few wounds and checks them for any possible injuries.

“Honestly Logan, I get that you wanted to get to Virgil,” Patton says, hand glowing softly as he heals a scrape on the vampire’s temple, “but sprinting into the building by yourself certainly was not the way to go! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? Who knows what Caelius would have done to you two if Roman hadn’t found you when he did!”

“You are right Patton,” Logan complies, “but I still do not regret my decision. Had I waited even just a second more, I would have been too late.”

Patton sighs, shaking his head. “Stubborn as ever, I see.” He chuckles, “well, my job here is done. I feel like you two need to have a little talk, so if you need me I’ll be downstairs with Roman.”

He shoots them one last, encouraging smile, before walking out of the room and closing the door with a soft click.

Silence falls. Logan turns his head just slightly, eyes falling on the figure sitting next to him. Virgil stares back, expression unreadable as he raises one eyebrow in question.

“So.”

Logan sighs, adjusting himself to be sitting face to face with the other man. “I suppose I owe you an explanation,” he begins, “but first, I need to apologize. It is my fault Caelius targeted you in the first place, therefore putting your life in danger, and I am deeply sorry for that.”

“It’s okay. I mean-” Virgil tells him, before backpedalling in a rush-“it’s not okay, because getting kidnapped is no fun at all and I’ve never felt more scared in my life, but-” he stops for a moment, taking in a slow, steady breath before looking up at Logan with a tentative smile-“I know you, Lo. I know you would never intentionally put me in danger, and I don’t blame you for what happened.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that, hadn’t it been for me, you would have never been put in danger.”

“I’m okay now, though. You made sure of that.” Virgil points out, before frowning in thought. “What was that dude’s deal with you anyway? He seemed to have some sort of personal vendetta against you or something.”

Logan winces at his words, looking away. “It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

“Alright then. I guess there is no avoiding it.” Logan sighs, “As you probably have already guessed, I am not… human, like you. I am a vampire.”

When Logan risks a quick peek at Virgil’s reaction, he doesn’t look surprised in the slightest. Instead, the man simply raises an eyebrow, muttering “No shit Sherlock” under his breath.

Something in Logan’s chest relaxes a little at that.

“Caelius is the one who turned me, all those years ago.” He resumes, pushing down the memories trying to resurface. Not now. “He tried to make a meal out of me, I fought back, and he decided he wanted to keep me. So, he took me away with him.”

“He turned me and kept me in this big mansion down south –the same one you were brought to, by the way. Years passed, and I finally managed to escape. I wandered around for a while, not really knowing where to go. Then, I met Patton, and here we are.”

Silence falls. Then, Virgil lets out a slow whistle.

“Holy shit Lo.” He breaths out, eyes wide as he processes the load of information, “and to think people assume I’m the one with the tragic backstory.”

Logan lets out a tiny chuckle, shaking his head. “That is one way to put it, I suppose.” Then he looks up at the other, looking genuinely confused. “How are you taking all of this so well? I expected you to freak out –no offense, but this is just not something you hear every day. It is simply not logical for you to be so calm.”

Virgil shrugs. “As I already said, I know you.” He says, a crooked smile on his lips. “You’re still Logan, vampire or not.”

“I… thank you, Virgil. This really means a lot to me.” Logan tells him, expression soft.

Virgil blushes –the vampire has no business looking at him like that, goddamnit, his poor gay heart is gonna explode if he keeps this up- and waves him off, huffing in embarrassment. “Shut up nerd.”

The sit in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company now that the truth is out in the open for both to see. If he has to be honest, Logan feels… free, in a way. Lighter, as if an enormous weight has been lifted from his chest. He mulls it over, before deciding with a smile that he quite likes this new feeling.

Then, a thought strikes him.

“You know what I don’t really understand?” he asks, catching the other’s attention. “How did you manage to actually break out of Caelius influence, back there? Logically, it shouldn’t have been possible.”

Virgil snorts, bumping their shoulders. “Wow Lo, such a vote of confidence for my inner strength.”

Logan rolls his eyes, huffing in amusement. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah yeah, I get it.” Virgil huffs, chuckling. “You were using your power too, though. I felt it. Maybe you were stronger?”

Logan shakes his head, expression growing more puzzled the more he thinks about it. “Caelius is much older and powerful than me. Moreover, since he’s the one that turned me, he’s technically my master.” He explains, “I may have taken him by surprise, but there’s no way my thrall overpowered his.”

Virgil hums in acknowledgment, mulling something in his head as he watches Logan try to find a solution.

“Could it be…” he suddenly speaks up, cheeks strangely pink, “could it be because, while he was forcing me to follow his orders, I actually wanted to come to you?”

“Wait, really?” Logan asks, obviously taken aback. “You had just found out I was not human at all, and therefore had been lying to you for all the three years you have known me. Why would you have trusted me?”

“I trust you with my life Lo, vampire or not,” Virgil says, expression earnest, and no matter how much he searches Logan can’t find a hint of a lie in the other’s eyes.

Distantly, Logan feels his heart skip a beat, blood rushing to his cheeks as he stares at the other.

“Oh.” He murmurs, unable to form anything more coherent.

Virgil chuckles, smiling. “Logan, I would follow you to the ends of this earth if you just asked.” and that’s the moment Logan’s brain screeches to a halt, his last functioning brain cells leaving him with a metaphorical laugh as he tries to process what exactly Virgil might be implying.

“You’re-” he finally says, clearing his throat while trying to will his blush away- “you’re aware that you sound just like Roman, right?”

Virgil bursts out laughing, eyes twinkling in amusement and something else entirely that makes Logan’s heart beat wildly in his chest.

“Shut up, I know.” The human grins, mockingly punching him on the shoulder. “Still, the sentiment stands. Now the question is… would you want me to, Logan?”

That is a question Logan is pretty sure he knows the answer of.

“I think I do.” He murmurs, before leaning down to kiss Virgil’s smile.

Taglist: @noodlesforlife13 @keithkhoegane @introverted-happiness @virgilmydarkstrangeson@sidesroleplayblog @im-patton @creativity-killed-thekitten @heck-im-lost @adultmorelikeadolt@gayfandomsaremything @thesealwhodraws @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @logicallycrofters

Plus @teacupfulofstarshine bc I know starmom is analogical trash.

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manicpixiedreamjew · 6 years ago

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ok i rewrote and revised my letter! let me know what you think

2/9/19

Rabbi Randy,

As our Into class comes to an end, a lot has been on my mind. My spirituality, my values; how my perception of the world has changed as I solidify my Jewish identity, especially as a young woman. I spent a few hours poring over journal entries dating back all the way to 2016 this Shabbat, and a consistent theme stood out in all of them: an overwhelming, genuine urge to live an authentic Jewish life. I read, thrown back into the innocent curiosity, the puppy love, the childlike fascination with Jews and Judaism that began with a book. The Chosen, the very first Jewish book I read, and I’m sure I’ve told you this story before; I’ll spare the details.

Anyway, those first inklings of interest, say, early 2016, were academic. I was a vehement atheist born to a family of atheists. Then again, who has a nuanced understanding of religion and people-hood at sixteen? My atheism was an obstinate, cynical world view triggered by traumatic experiences with Christianity. When I picked up The Chosen, though...I was slapped right across the face. Judaism was the first thing that challenged my philosophies; it forced me into an entirely foreign universe I never thought I’d know, need or understand. It taught me empathy foremost, in those early days...studying Judaism exhorted me to bear the burden of others, to feed the hungry (a MAZON seminar comes to mind), comfort the weary. Looking at my journal, an entry dated 3/3/17 elaborates on the effects of antisemitism in America, and next to that a newspaper cut out of a Magen David. It wasn’t quite personal then, but it was something I wouldn’t have looked twice at a few years earlier. It disturbed me deeply.

Then, mid-late 2017. The journal entries shifted, as you’d expect; I’d been exhaustively involved in reading and researching by then. I see a lovingly inscribed entry detailing, religiously, my first Kabbalat Shabbat at CRC. 7/1/17. The smells, the melodies, my friends, the birthday celebration of two elderly men who loved baseball. “A deep, riveting admiration for something ancient and pulsing with life.” That puppy-love stage was in full effect, my love of Judaism and its personal implications blossomed over the springtime, although its fragrance wasn’t entirely sweet: I was forced to confront my identity and ask myself that looming question. Do I want to become a Jew?

That question threw me for a loop. It was an emotionally intense time. I confided to my closest friend that, although it may sound absurd, converting to Judaism was something I was interested in. I remember crying myself to sleep some nights because the decision was so massive, so heavy, so entirely suffocating for someone with no background in religion, no sense of community or family. Eventually, though, my fate did not seem so dire, and I came to my senses: I loved Judaism. I loved it, I love it. One of the first things that stood out to me and comforted me was the Jewish emphasis on family, something I never experienced. I clung to it: how someone’s always there for you; how you’re adopted into world-wide support network called the Tribe. How no matter where you travel, anywhere in the world, someone will enthusiastically invite you over for Shabbat lunch. How, because you are Jewish, you will never suffer alone.

That, then, began my serious resolve to be Jewish, do Jewish and live Jewish.

Ever since I met with you on 11/21/17 (I have an entry for that, too!), my life has been a foray into Jewishness. You told me to start observing Shabbat and Yom Tov, and I did so with vigor: I bought a chanukiah, acquired the shiniest candlesticks I could, and read every book the local library had regarding proper observances. I look back on my first few holidays and laugh now, playfully admonishing myself for my mistakes and mishaps. But that’s the fun, right? If I learned anything from this week’s Parsha (Terumah), it’s that the means are more much important than the end, the intention more meaningful than the actualization. Late 2017 to early 2018 was all that: learning, doing, experiencing, interacting, existing with a fat dose of humility. Organizing a basic Jewish vocabulary, and through Shabbat services and working with the community, pinning down what it means to live a Jewish life.

Enter 2018! This was, perhaps, the most frustrated and chaotic year on my Journey to Jewish. To start, it was my last semester of high-school. Everything, and I mean Everything, was dependent on my graduation—most saliently my own happiness and sanity. My synagogue attendance was dwindling, my ambition and motivation was all but absent. I’ve always suffered from depression and severe anxiety, but its clutch tightened horribly those first few months. I managed to attend a Kol Nidre service in early September—and, it remains one of my most beautiful and cherished memories to date. December, I know, was the hardest. Between my Catholic father making crusade jokes and my Jesus-obsessed mother spewing casual antisemitism, between unending loads of coursework and no free time, I felt my spirit literally withering. This never weakened my resolve to live Jewishly, but some days I just couldn’t bring myself to enact the values I knew I held in my heart. Some days Judaism felt like a beloved friend, and others Judaism felt like a stranger. Nevertheless I continued to live as Jewish a life I could, but even kindling the Chanukah candles felt joyless. I was like Tevye standing in the middle of the woods, anguished, as his horse refused to budge. Through all of it, though—the sadness, numbness, friction—I was never, ever, once deterred. That’s how life is sometimes. But to be a Jew, as our own Reb Tevye zealously insisted, you must have hope.

And I did. This is when Judaism became real to me, when I realized it was a part of my life and etched into my very being. If I could live Jewishly, study, be a part of my community and find solace while also dealing with these hardships, this was clearly meant to be. I’ve been using “us” and “we” pronouns for a few months now, referring to myself as Jewish even though I’ve yet to immerse in a mikveh. When our class visited the Holocaust museum, the loss and heartache I felt was profoundly intimate...a personal loss, the loss of family I never had the opportunity to know and love. I had never experienced anything like that before, and it continues to haunt me. I’ve been the target of hateful and ignorant remarks. People have glowered at my Magen David; they’ve called me names and insulted me. “Christ killer, money hoarder, dirty Jew.”

But, and I’m a bit weepy remembering this, living Jewishly (and loudly at that) is a blessing. Maybe two summers ago I catered to an older family for their son’s graduation party. An uncle approached me, blinked at my Magen David and muttered “bless you.” I was visibly shaken; I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Later in the evening the grandmother touched my shoulder and asked, “are you Jewish?” I told her I was a conversion student. She embraced me, dug out dreidels from her kitchen drawer, and told me that she was separated from her Judaism during childhood. That it was too dangerous for her to practice, that she wanted to go back to synagogue now that she was safe. I encouraged her daughter to finally have her bar mitzvah. My heart was full. Another memory I’m fond of: wishing a stranger chag Pesach sameach and Shabbat Shalom on the street. He was wearing a kippah. The smile on that man’s face was unforgettable.

Those moments, to me, were godly. Actions are a conduit of holiness; I’ve learned that over the years. To act with intent and sanctify the mundane is second nature to us. A bracha, a kind word, charity, song...everything is a vessel for godliness.

Fast forward a bit: 2019. As I grew into my adult identity, so did I into my Jewish identity. I had my 18th birthday, graduated, passed my driving test. I began to wrap my hair on Shabbat, meditate on the Sh’ma swathed in a tallit, give tzedakah. Often times I sat in the little CRC classroom and pondered on the application of my learning: how it translated into my everyday life, how it reconciled with my values as a progressive woman in today’s society...but mostly, I think, I thought about how at home I felt. I walk into CRC and immediately feel at peace; a part of a family, the member of a loving household. I walk into the sanctuary and about a dozen people are ready to greet me with big, heartfelt smiles. It melts me every single time.

Alright, I’ll quit boring you with all this schmaltz.

I’m not sure that there was one definite moment when I knew, for sure, that being Jewish was the right choice for me. In fact, to assume all that soul searching could fit into one tiny, fleeting, ephemeral moment is ridiculous...as you know from the absurd length of this letter, which is only a minute fraction of my story. Seriously, I could go on, and on, and on; but I digress. Sitting at our Sukkot celebration and dancing with all the other people, looking up through the sukkah and marveling at the hanging plants and leaves. Baking challah on Friday morning and realizing that somewhere, other Jewish women are doing the exact same thing. Feeling warm summer wind on my face, seeing fireflies flicker through the bushes and knowing that HaShem is there. Touching my siddur to the Torah for the first time and bristling, feeling as though something breathed new life into me. Group Aliyah, a guiding hand on my shoulder as we chant the brachot in clumsy unison…

Each moment (and many more, and yet more to come) reaffirmed the fact that Judaism is my home. Ruth said it more succinctly and eloquently than I ever could: Your people shall be my people, and your God shall be my God.

Randy, I never thought I’d be doing this. Ever. Looking back at the learning and growing I’ve done, reading those journals and reminiscing on my journey, I can firmly say, if you agree, I’m ready to enter this Covenant officially.

Thank you for everything, as always,

Zoë

#oops its 5 pages #save

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pinksweatergettingbetter · 7 years ago

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warning, the following has mainly snarky (and possibly furious) opinions on Spirit of Justice. Reader discretion is advised.

ok guys. its the final ending for REALS this time.

Amara’s been shot after lying for approximately half a decade, boobs AND secrets were exposed, Dhurke was momentarily a good father and everything is exhausting.

now, for the actual final chapter of this ball-gripping tale.

“If she did shoot Amara, she’s not gonna get away with it!! Not on my watch!!” ok apollo do remember that youre still an unarmed foreign man with an occupation that makes you an outcast and also you’re 5′5″ up against a literally queen with followers proven to kill for her

a 50/50 chance of survival

so an Engarde/Vera/Hostages situation then

“...That Ga’ran! Justice will be served.”

ok APollo’s dialogue writers have officially opened the Stock Phrases barrel.

ok so Rayfa... maybe knows she’s Amara’s daughter? if so i love her like 10 times more. she actually put 2 and 2 together.

“...How are YOU, Horn Head?”

BLESS HER

Datz: :( Dhurke is dead guess the revolution is over

yeah i guess there’s nobody to defend you from pulling bullshit like throwing firecrackers at kids anymore, is there, Vore Machine? Cause I doubt Behleeb would stand for that shit.

yeesh. talk about weak ass resolve.

when Mia died Phoenix didn’t wallow in depression, he got his ass up and went to defend her sister.

Datz: Hey Apollo! Because I’m a lazy fuckwad, if you don’t prove Ga’ran guilty, the revolution is over and our country is doomed! Good luck!

god even when he’s actually taking things seriously he’s a shithead. like really? if the trial goes south, that’s it? no more revolution? despite how much the trial has /already/ done to rile up your supporters?? what kind of a revolutionary are you?!

Ready or not, here comes Justice!

god yes lets end this

hey where’s Sadmad

maybe he went with his mom to make sure they didn’t just kill her at the hospital.

ohhh. i see. they haven't announced it yet but thats actually pretty clever of her– Sadmad’s the final blockade to fall. Accuse him of the murder, carry off Amara to be ‘healed’, and then uh... do nothing about the rebels because apparently they’re not even interested in a revolution anymore.

yeeeeeep it’s sadm–

SEXY PAN UP SHOT FOR NAHYUTA

hey Perceive you should be kicking it about now.

well that IS leading the witness, apollo.

y’know, considering Ga’ran is a monarch, she could pardon Nahyuta for his crime. I mean, he’s still useful to her.

“The law, Nahyuta? Or the queen?”

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“problematic testimony”

s top... using that word... pls

“The holy mother does not condone killing in her name” but her sister’s name??? fuck yes murder that shit up

just say Lady Kee’ra told you to do it and you’re off the hook sadmad

ok... so Dhurke rescued Amara when Nahyuta was ten, (15 years ago) and he met her at that point. Apollo got shipped off to America when he was nine... And since Nahyuta is a year older than Apollo, that would make that the very same year. Ah– and confirmed by Apollo himself. Guess he just missed her.

“Sorry Apollo– I’m getting my wife back and we need your bed... See you in 15 years!”

“Mr. Justice. Know that Dhurke sent you away so that you would not be caught up in the life we led.” oK??? but why didn’t he send Nahyuta away too? it’s literally been stated that Nahyuta was totally outcasted, and even worse, now we find out he had to live constantly on the run. A ten year old.

Why not send Nahyuta off to America with his brother, and bring them back when everything was safe?

Apollo: But Dhurke said that pic was from 23 years ago!!

tbh i have no idea why theyre still trying to cover up Rayfa’s true parentage. cause i dont think the shame of her being related to a rebel really matters at this point.

my brain is pea soup

“If Rayfa comes out as the daughter of Dhurke, everyone will hate her like they hated me!”

...except we just got done basically freeing him of all wrongdoing and that was the end goal of the revolution, thus making this utterly meaningless.

...wait. this isn’t the only thing Garan was threatening to do to Rayfa, was it???

holy fuck. thats it. no threats of murder or assault; just “ill tell everyone that her dad’s Dhurke”

despite the fact that even IF she got kicked out of the royal family, she would still be the next queen since the queen Must be a spirit medium, and Rayfa is the only other medium in the country??

but whatever, i ... fuck it, whatever.

this is just a straight up rehash of Simon and Athena anyway, preceded by a rehash of Trials and Tribulations.

“You are an innocent party in this”

damn right she is

“I just gave up overthrowing the queen because she said she’d tell everyone your dad was a bad man”

good fucking lord, no wonder the revolution didnt get anywhere. NOBODY believed in it, even from the fucking start.

god the longer this goes on, the less afraid I am of Ga’ran. hell, considering the police’s skill level, i could probably just deck her in the face and then sprint out the door and id get away with it.

Apollo: The Edgeworht I knew–– fuck, the Simon I knew–– shit, fuck, damnit–– The NAHYUTA I knew would NEVER let himself be turned into this!!

“This hope in your heart is what binds me, Dhurke and you as a family”

yeah whatever

boy everyone really WAS depending on Dhurke. No Dhurke, can’t do shit.

thats just... depressing.

“I have to protect her from being outed as the child of Dhurke!!” he yells in the middle of court surrounded by witnesses who can probably figure this shit out for themselves

“..............Really? Nothing at all? Could an exceptional lawyer like Dhurke try that long and really uncover nothing at all? He had over two decades, Apollo.”

IM WHEEZING

I KNOW THIS ISN’T WHAT HE’S SAYING BUT IT FUCKING SOUNDS LIKE HE’S SAYIGN “uhhh i fuckin did it in SEVEN years"

oh my god!! oh shit!!

thank god real-life physics dont apply to fire-smoke in the AA universe or else lil baby apollo would be dead in like 2 seconds

OH MY GOD OH NO

APOLLO JUST STRAIGHT UP FLIPPED OUT OF HIS ARMS

I HOPE HIS SWADDLING IS REALLY PADDED

JESUS CHRIST

noooo god. now I'm genuinely distressed

why'd Rayfa bring up the lighter evidence?? thats not something to do with Jove’s last thoughts

“Someone attempted to assassinate Queen Amara by settling her residence ablaze”

me: who's the motherfucker in the shiny thing

hrhrhhghg looking at baby apollo is hurting the horrible gremlin mother inside me pls let me just find the contradiction soon

ᶫᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ʰᶦˢ ᶜᵘᵗᵉ ᶫᶦᵗᵗᶫᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʰᶦˢ ᵗᶦᶰʸ ᶠᵘᶜᵏᶦᶰ ᶫᶦᵗᵗᶫᵉ ʰᵃᶦʳ

OH ITS A HAND

OHHHHHHHH

>ENHANCE<

“Peasants”

whoa go back to old timey tumblr your malevolence

“It shall still be I who shall decide Rayfa’s fate.”

uh pretty sure you won’t cause your guilt just got proven in front of tonnes of witnesses and the rebels can legitimately just whisk Rayfa to safety right now, right? like. you’re not queen anymore. you lost. Rayfa is already queen at this second if Amara doesn’t make it.

“The child lives only by my good graces”

ok at least we know murder was on the table. but also Ga’ran you’re literally dead on the spot you can’t do this anymore

does she uh. maybe know anything about Russian history, perhaps..? if i was her id be sneaking out the back way real fuckin quick

well Sadmad its a little less impressive that youve finally decided to defy her when there’s literally nothing left to defy but... meh.

“I believed protecting your secrets was in the best interest of his kingdom...”

WHY

WHAT

WHY??

“In all this time, not once did I reflect on my own conduct -- for I had believed all was fate”

did he just admit he happily acted like a fuckhead under the excuse “oh well, fate’s fate! better be an enormous shithead!!”

yeah, Sadmad?? doesn’t fucking fly.

the DD’s salute looks like they’re catching a kiss

( Now, if we could just prove Ga’ran’s guilt... )

YOU JUST DID. YOU HAD A FUCKING WITNESS

“For the cuffs could have been stolen and used without my knowledge”

you have actual octopus hair

you’ve visibly threatened the life of your own daughter

everything about you is evil and your shit system convicts people on a dime

id say witnessing those cuffs is enough evidence.

oh i just realized Sadmad and Amara do the same head-down hand-symbol pose. cute

“we gotta find the clothes– if we can, then–”

oh god. oh god. i dont like where this is going

siblings unite to piss off auntie

oh god

OH GOD

CORPSE CLOTHES

SHE STRIPPED AND REDRESSED A CORPSE

I DIDN’T WANT THIS

“Because even Monarchs aren’t above the law.”

hell yeah

"Haha. If you convict me, Nahyuta will die for using fake testimony to protect me!”

a) it was under duress, i’d say thats exempt from the law

b) when you go, you’re no longer the queen. you have no power to enforce a law YOU wrote. Amara/Rayfa will abolish the law and pardon Nahyuta

you really are grasping at moron straws aren't you??

“I hate it too but its the law of the land. And as you said, nobody is above the law.”

you people have the brains of protozoa

“She wants us to let her off scot-free? And yet, I don’t see any other choice...”

phoenix, ho-humming about how he had basically the same dilemma in JFA and he convicted engarde anyway

babe,,, you cant make laws anymore,,, you lost. just give up jesus christ. er, holy mother.

oh this is where the SEX! SEX! SEX! gif is from heheh

garan if you kill them you’ll have a courtroom full of witnesses and even the most brainwashed of your subjects won’t stand for a straight up massacre

and if you dont want witnesses you’ll have to kill them all

covering that up’ll be pretty hard. along with the fact that this will only piss off the resistance more

you’re really spiralling here your malevolence

oh my god we didnt need that to be voice acted

HSHDGDJ

Phoenix: shut UP apollo!!! w-we’re gonna die!!!

“I cannot lose you to the twilight realm too!”

aren’t you heading there together? ...that is kinda sweet tho.

alright, enough griping– lets just treat this like a nice big finish.

this music is weird though i gotta say

Apollo: time to face death and laugh!

Phoenix: heheh, yeah, heheh– [signalling to the gallery] TAKE CARE OF TRUCY FOR ME

“Two auspicious creatures dwell within you– a fierce dragon and a virtuous Phoenix.”

im gonna assume the japanese version of the line was “boy ya got double the dragon power up in you”

your playbook huh phoenix

heheh

oh shit

logic

i forgot about that

wow. i love that “the queen literally committed several murders, fraud and basically ruined out country” doesn’t mean anything, but “our queen doesn’t have magic powers” is enough to kick her out on the fucking spot

as much as this ending is kinda stupid, i do appreciate the sheer amusement value of backing Garan into an impossible corner

sjkhdhjshj

and in front of her creepy guards

ur diarrhoea garan indeed!!

“I want a lawyer!”

[bart voice] the ironing is delicious

o man... I'm laugh

the collective emotion here is ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

hes goNNA THROW DOWN

oh no she’s gone try

“HRRRRGGH”

it usually doesn't involve shitting yourself but youre trying

garan: [does the Macarena]

ohhhh yikes

“It seems... she now believes that she herself is the Holy Mother.”

oh boy.

“Whyd she try to kill her sister??”

bro,,,,, it

never mind. also, Inga was actually going to stage a coup??

wow this is just misty and morgan on a gargantuan scale isn't it

OH! THEY MIGHT EXPLAIN THIS

“why did amara even listen to garan in the first place?”

“My mother is a gentle soul who loves her sister. So when Ga’ran told her to hide because Dhurke was out to kill her, she believed it.”

...

“What’s more, she did not wish to tarnish the name of her beloved sister...”

.......

“That is why she acquiesced so obediently to Ga’rans request to keep channeling for her.”

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

“Until she fled with Dhurke and was told the truth, that is.”

wh––

“But since Rayfa was being held captive... I imagine Amara had no choice but to help cover up the truth behind Inga’s murder.”

THAT DOESN’T ACCOUNT FOR THE TIME BEFORE AND DURING HER PREGNANCY. WHAT THE FUCK WAS SHE DOING THEN!?

AMARA.

“Well, that was a trial for the ages.” You said it, K-judge.

“Dhurke... I hope you’re watching...” well you retconned people being conscious in the spirit world so no, he isn’t.

“Nah, it was all you.”

baw, nick.

here we go. here’s the phoenix/apollo interaction we’ve always wanted. its just a shame it has to be in this game...

maya: :D PRAISE ME TOO

phoenix: trucy!? how'd you get here?

trucy: its maaaagic :D

edgeworth: i was nearly arrested at the airport for suspected human trafficking.

D: RAYFA NO SAD

tbh rayfa is the best character here.

I'm literally actually smiling with genuine joy as she steps up to the queenly plate. may the Holy Mom bless and keep her.

“Big B...B...”

BABY

“Buh..?”

“B-B-B... Br...”

SHES TRYING SO HARD

YOU CAN DO IT BABE

(cries)

“straight through without doing any serious damage”

wow lucky shot

i wonder if this was the same guy who “sniped” the phantom

you know... on one hand, I'm glad Apollo’s come into his own. But I also hate that he’s leaving the series this way.

It’s not the fact that Apollo is getting his own office, even in a different country– that’s not half bad. But the way they’ve left everything unfinished, and the way they’ve tossed his character around like a hacky-sack... I just can’t accept this as a “happy” ending for the character.

wait why is the revolution still being spoken about– isn’t it over, technically..? i mean, they won... the rebuilding part isn’t really a revolution, is it?

well anyway. I’m happy for Apollo, but not for Apollo Justice. you know what I mean?

“I... I’m sorry guys... Capcom just can’t be bothered with me anymore. I’ll remember you fondly...”

Klavier, from the Capcom storehouse: he WHAT

“But someday... I’ll return to the US!”

[squints]

heh... goodbye, Man Cub. you’re off to the human village. and as for us, it’s back to the jungle.

“We must never stagnate, but continue to grow and change.”

phoenix: uh huh!!

god the voice acting... its so bad...

Dhurke: hello son... I'm a butterfly now!

oh no you dont– dont you dare play us out on a jazzy version of apollos theme >:T

HEY I JUST REMEMBERED

NOBODY CHANNELED GOD.

I WANTED TO SEE GOD DAMN IT

baby Faith.

Datz: Faith! Grow up to be a horrible guy like me!

Faith: [tiny baby middle finger extends]

good child. he takes after his mum

haha eat shit dickquill

..also who are you calling “old chum”

aww pearly you can wear as many city girl outfits as you want ;w;

.......just no slim white dresses

Sadmad: I know I’m a total fuckwad in court but does she have to call me a silly name :’(

sadmad... youre getting off so, so easy

oh hey. this game didn’t end with an OBJECTION!

“Don’t you think it’s about time we told them the truth?”

ohhh you mother fuckers. you absolute asswipes.

huh... an after scene??

“Case backlog” jesus

...ohhh here’s the huh huh huh OBJECTION

“From legal advice to investigating extramarital affaires– even yak milking!”

uhh

DJF ITS FREE

HAHA

heh. i like it when you can use the mic for that.

well, it looks like that’s the end. i made it through SOJ. I gotta say, I don’t feel anywhere near as soul crushingly miserable as i thought I would. I’ve got a lot to think about for my final thoughts... guess i’ll get to that tomorrow morning.

anyway– it’s been a pleasure writing all this shit and going through this whole thing with you guys– err, whoever reads these, haha.

I may come off like a dick, but honestly it comes from a place of deep, deep love for a series that's helped me in so many ways. Here’s hoping AA7 will bring us a new, crazy adventure.

so, i’ll seeya next time. possibly with a much more lighthearted play by play of PL VS AA :)

[deep inhale]

#soj spoilers #sulking over SOJ #iiiiits long #but not as mean as you might think #finally finished guys]#seeya in the next one!]

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larrymullenband-blog · 7 years ago

Text

U2 in Toronto 06/23/17

aka Elena finally tells you how the concert went!!

You're not surprised, but it was mind-blowing. Transcendent. All that regular U2 stuff. VERY LONG REPORT BELOW.

(All pics by me or my brother. Used with permission. For reference he has the lesser phone camera but I think he did pretty damn well with it considering!)

SO. WHERE TO BEGIN.

The GA line started at four freakin’ thirty, two days before the concert. Thankfully my ticket squad were all down to check in that evening. I was number 87 (like 1987, heyooooo). Our line leaders gave us the option of checking in either the next morning or evening, which was a godsend. We showed up bright and early the day of and got wristbands, then I met Kelseigh @adirondykes which was #blessed. Came back for two, got let in to the stadium for three, sat in a dark rampway til just after four thirty, and then the run of my life.

Months ago my friend and I had chosen our dream spot - between Larry’s “branch” of the Tree Stage and the main, shall we say, frontal lobe of it, where Bono, Edge and Adam are most of the time during the first set. I had been anxious (as I’m sure some of you saw in my posts) for months leading up to the day of about not getting a good spot, and I had tried to lower my hopes. But as luck would have it, our charge led us right into the corner between Tree Stage Laurence and Tree Stage Central. The dream spot. I owe it to my friend who led the charge, bless him. It was super duper unreal. Forever grateful.

The Lumineers were actually awesome. Best opening act for U2 I’ve seen. I had wanted to see OneRepublic or Mumford and Sons instead, both of whom I love, but these guys won me over. They came on to The Chain by Fleetwood Mac (Kelseigh and I went hard) and then played a very strong set. They even froze into tableau in one song which was...really weird? But cool. The whole time I remember thinking “If I’m so moved by this...how goddamn moved am I going to be with my favourite band right in front of my face?!”

There were some very annoying veteran fans behind us who kept talking about how they dislike when U2 play the hits because they’ve seen so many U2 shows (the king of first world problems), and about how the band is winding down. They trashed the shit out of The Lumineers during their set...and also made some muffled comments about how they deserved my friends and I’s spots. Which...no?? I’m sorry people, but having “done your waiting” by being older than my friends and I doesn’t make you entitled to anything. We genuinely love the band. We did our lining up early, and you did not. Suck my diiiiiiiiiiiiiick...

A note on Toronto’s venue: The Skydome (now called the Rogers Centre, but I resist) has a retractable roof. Other artists who play there always have the dome closed, and the dome is usually closed on rainy days, as concert day had been. But every time I’ve seen U2 there the roof has been open, rumoured to be by the band’s special request. The dome was closed when we got in but miraculously, after The Lumineers’ set, it opened to reveal the sunset. Everyone around me had a good cheer and laugh - Bono gets what he wants, dammit! As we watched the GA floor and Red Zone toss a beach ball around, and Dallas, Stuart and Sam get our boys’ instruments ready, my friend smiled and said that every detail of the night so far was perfect.

AND THEN LARRY CAME ON AND HE WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME AND EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL IN PERSON!!

He smiled when he came out onto Tree Stage, and waved to someone. Larry? Visibly happy? Wow! That really set the tone for the night. Happy U2 were very happy. It was infectious.

Sidenote, I loved seeing Larry take a lil moment before starting. Holding his sticks in his lap, taking a breath. About to set off a rocket of a show, to send an entire stadium into hysterics, but giving himself this one second to prepare, just for himself.

Back on the topic of Happy U2 Were Very Happy: there was a small mess up in Sunday Bloody Sunday that B+E remedied with a smile and a retry. Seeing such prolific pros mess up a bit and have a laugh about it meant the world to me. Their band dynamic is the strongest and most beautiful thing.

Adam is the cutest and was so damn happy to come over to our side and hear all of us scream for him. He did so very early on in SBS. His smile is the brightest and I love him.

During Bad Bono talked about our lost countryman Leonard Cohen and sang a long, beautiful snippet of one of his songs. Immediately the stadium went up in lights and Bono said “Oh that’s beautiful, thank you.” Pretty sure I saw Edge give Bono a smile and thumbs up for his snippet once the song ended.

Also fun fact: Larry and his drum tech have a secret mic channel through which they talk to each other! Sam stands by the side of the stage and speaks to Lurr into a mic as he drums. And the king of drooms speaks back! T’was cool to watch.

Edge did the solo to Pride right in front of my brother. Pride is my brother’s favourite U2 song and I was so freakin’ happy. When we launched into the “oh oh oh oh” singalong, Edge saw me pumping my fist like hell and gave me a smile. I thought this was a hallucination or something because MY FAVE NOTICED ME but Kelseigh confirms this and I cry. My existence has been validated. This also happened in 2011 so Edge and I have a special connection apparently and I LOVE HIM SO MUCH GAAAAAAAAAH. His smile is the best. I will never be over it.

Their squad poses at the beginning of Streets were the death of me. Seeing them present a proudly united front, I’m just...THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH OKAY!!!!!!!! aaaaaaaaahhhhh

Side 1 of Joshua Tree was a blur. A beautiful blur, and hard to process. Streets was epic, went by like a flash of lightning. Our massive Still Haven’t Found crowd singalong seemed to make happy Bono even happier. I rocked out so hard to Bullet. Bono did them moves on the mic stand and I lost it. The woman on my right and I started singing lyrics to each other, smiling big and getting really into it. We hadn’t talked at all before the show and I only found out her name after! A wonderful unspoken camaraderie. I adored the new version of Red Hill Mining Town. With all of them together in one corner of the stage, Edge and Adam sitting down, it felt very cute and intimate while the song was strong and sweeping. I think it was after that song that Bono turned to Adam and raved, “Great bass! Very lyrical. It takes a real man to be that feminine.” #U2LoveEachOtherSoMuchTour

Before In God’s Country, Bono talked about only getting to know this album now - how friends, countries, and songs can all surprise you even after knowing them for so long. That struck a chord with me somehow, I don’t know quite why. Bono’s anecdotes, even when they’re not the freshest or most poetic, are powerful. He’s such a compelling storyteller by nature, and he just makes you want to listen to him forever. Basically someone you would invite over to read you the phone book.

Bono, as usual at Toronto concerts, kept mentioning how much he loves Canada. He thanked us for taking in the Irish after the potato famine (which was before all of us were born I think, but hey, it’s the thought that counts!). He referenced Canada’s cultural mosaic, which sets us apart from countries with melting pot models of integrating newcomers. As we’re turning 150 in a week (damn) he announced something I’d heard rumoured that day - that he and Edge are going to Ottawa to be part of the celebrations! WOOOOO! He called our country a baby, but an old soul compared to our “adolescent” neighbour to the south. He praised our leaders’ approach to AIDS fighting among other things. The Ultraviolet tribute featured our new foreign minister.

Trip Through Your Wires was so fun live and is now a Gay™ song and no one can tell me otherwise. When Edge went into the solo, dramatically crouched and feeling the music, Bono walked right over into his personal bubble and just stared down at him. Awed. Studying. (...same, man. Same.) Reminded me of that quote about their first practice that I saw on here recently, in which Bono saw Edge magicking the melodies out of his head and basically knew that Edge was his destiny. Of course when Bono turned back to the crowd he gave us the usual “Isn’t this a sexy man?” and everyone went NUTS (yay). And then “Is that the kind of sexy man you want blowing out your birthday candles?” (I swear I heard the slightest pause on “blowing”...but maybe that’s just my dirty mind).

Also. Edge’s voice. It was on point as ever. So. Pretty. FUCK.

One Tree Hill was the first song to bring me to tears. The “stars fall from the sky” line, plus Bono’s opening banter about losing good people arbitrarily and unjustly...the music sounded beautiful, like every album track did, but there was something more to the song that kept me ugly-sobbing.

Bono stole the show with Exit. Seeing him in character for the first time live was so cool. I really envy everyone who was around for Zoo TV. Cause DAMN. Eve comes by it honestly, this man is an actor. I almost didn’t laugh at him repeatedly shoving a camera into his crotch cause it nearly looked more poignant than funny! He paused at the top of the tree stage, bit his thumb and ran a hand through his hair...wow. The bravado, irony and elegance all rolled into one...

(And then he slowly took his coat off and Kelseigh yelled “Take it off! Says the lesbian” and I lost it)

Omaima’s film for Miss Sarajevo/Syria was the second teary moment for me. That shot of her standing, closed eyed and introspective, in the midst of chaos and fear and disorder...some ladies close to me passed me down a tissue and I had that feeling of fan camaraderie once again. I love how U2 choses to speak about things so outright and so beautifully that other artists avoid speaking about. Although I’ll be honest - no idea where to go from here. Issues like these are so massive and it’s hard to know how to start being part of the solution when they’re so complex.

Beautiful Day had me once again jumping so hard I kept banging my elbow on the rail and it hurts to this day. The song soared. The morphing U2 faces on screen were fun to watch and I’m always down for reminders that Edge is an alien being anyway. My only beef was that some of the messages B sent at the end of the song (”When people define their own identity/when women unite and rewrite history as herstory, that’s a beautiful day,”) though I agree with them all, were a little tired. He is so eloquent that it kinda irks me to see him say very simple things about equality and justice that sound rather generic.

Elevation and Vertigo completely kicked my ass. I was still barely recovered from jumping to SBS, Pride, and Streets, but these ones set the whole place on fire. My friend commented later that these were the songs that made him a U2 fan and that he was so glad to have heard them. These are definitely songs that I tend to think would be favoured by us younger fans, and I feared that some curmudgeons who were there mostly for JT would begrudge us our fun, but no one could resist. Yelling “Unos, dos, tres, catorce!” with a whole stadium in the middle of a jumping floor was the best feeling. There was some wonderful power couple Bedgeness at the top of the catwalk during the bridge. And Bono came over to my brother’s rail to tug away his vest and show us the Jesus around his neck and we all swooned. (Also I’m a total sucker for the It’s Only Rock n’ Roll snippet, sue me!)

One sounded perfect. That woman next to me and I emphatically sang “Here us coming, Lord!” together. A true pair of fangirls. It made perfect emotional sense to me as a show closer, and I started to come to terms with my boys leaving us. But Bono had been whispering to Adam and Edge earlier. I had figured that that had been what had spurred the slight rearrangement of the setlist, but as it turned out, Bono grinned big at the end of One and promised us “One more!” We were ECSTATIC. Dallas gave Edge the Gibson Explorer and we launched into I Will Follow, Bono once more hanging off of his mic stand like a lil monkey. We all had more jumping left in us after all! Not as much bouncy Edge as I would have liked, but other than that it was a fantastic end. The band were still completely glowing, seeming to be having as great a time as they had been at the beginning. Not to mention the Bedge cuddle at the end!!! (In this video - in which you can also hear me yelling from like thirty spots away! What a dork.)

Sometime around the last two songs was when something really cool happened. My friend nudged me and called out that my younger brother had received Larry’s setlist!! I freaked out, and told my brother to thank the stagehand who had given it to him. Some fans behind us told us that said stagehand was in fact AJ Rankin, Bono’s cousin!! I was completely stunned and my friends laughed very hard at my The Scream-esque reaction. This was my brother’s second U2 concert compared to my fourth, and I had been so excited to bring him back into the world of U2 concerts after having shared our first one together. Not only that, but he had been feeling low self-confident and kinda sad only hours before, and not only did he adore the concert, but he got his own special keepsake. What a total blessing.

So essentially, that was the highlight of my year. Nothing can top that. Super sad that it’s over but so incredibly grateful for it. As usual after U2 shows, I’m feeling kind of in limbo right now. How can I live normally after that?! What do I do with myself without the night of my life to look forward to? How do I keep the memories alive? Still looking for the answers, but I feel a renewed commitment to life now, which is weird but welcome. I want to do things that would make my boys happy. Getting to share in their happiness was the best feeling I’ve had in a very long time.

Big shoutout to @adirondykes and her friend for meeting me and sharing this experience with me and generally being awesome; to all of the friends I met in GA, from the girl with the same shirt as me to the biggest Larry fan of them all to my wonderful singalong partner; and to you Tumble people! To @u2canhappentoanyone and @bonos-grindcore-sideproject for the GA advice and to @dismantlinganatomicbomb and @secret-blog-of-secrets for your lovely comments on my posts the day of, and everyone else on here for making me so happy to be in love this band every day. Big hugs to all of you, and long live the greatest band in the world.

(also if you’re reading this congrats for reading an entire book lol you’re great)

#u2 #u2thejoshuatree2017 #u2 toronto #tjt toronto #my concert #bono #the edge #adam clayton #larry mullen jr #mine

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catholiccom-blog · 8 years ago

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Catherine of Siena--A Marvel of Wisdom

Some fifteen years ago, a gathering of the who’s who of Catholic feminism issued the Madeleva Manifesto: A Message of Hope and Courage to Women in the Church. The signatories to the Manifesto included Charlie Curran’s defender Monika Hellwig and women’s ordination advocate, Joan Chittister. Not by accident, they issued their declaration on April 29, the feast of Catherine of Siena.

It’s not so difficult to understand why feminists wish to claim the patronage of Saint Catherine. After all, a version of her life might go something like this: At seven years of age a girl determines never to marry. At age 12, she is pressured by her parents to submit to an arranged marriage, she defiantly cuts off her hair and neglects her appearance. Later, the young woman develops quite a following in her town. Men and women alike seek her counsel. Soon she is bringing influence to bear in political circles unknown to women. She arbitrates family feuds. She brokers peace within and between the city-states of Tuscany. Bankers, generals, princes, dukes, kings, and queens, as well as scholars and abbots seek her counsel. Her admonitions inspire the pope to restore the papacy to Rome. She writes one of the greatest works of medieval literature. She accomplishes all of this in 33 years. When, six centuries later, she is at last declared a Doctor of the Roman Catholic Church she is only the second woman at the time to receive the honor. A real glass-ceiling breaker, Catherine made it big in a man’s world.

Missing in this account are the young Tuscan maid’s motives, considerably different from those that inform feminism. Here’s a sample of Joan Chittister’s thought:

I celebrate myself, the poet Walt Whitman wrote. The thought is so delicious it is almost obscene. Imagine the joy that would come with celebrating the self—our achievements, our experiences, our existence. Imagine what it would be like to look into the mirror and say, as God taught us, “That’s good.”

In marked contrast, Saint Catherine never understood herself as a pioneer for women’s rights, much less a model for narcissistic self-fulfillment. On the contrary, she put into practice the truth her Holy Bridegroom revealed to her early in her mystical life: “I am that which is; you are that which is not.”

“I must decrease, that He may increase,” declared John the Baptist, and we can say that John the Baptist’s modus operandi was also Saint Catherine’s: empty the soul of self to make room for the grace of the Savior. Insofar as we can do this, Our Lord can work remarkable, magnificent, and indeed miraculous things through us, just as he did through the diminutive dyers’ daughter six and a half centuries ago.

Catherine was born on the Feast of the Annunciation in 1347. Catherine and her twin, Giovanna, who died at birth, were numbers 23 and 24 to Giacomo and Lapa Benincasa, father and mother of an established Sienese family. Within 13 months of her birth the Black Plague laid waste to Tuscany. The population of Florence fell from some 120,000 to 30,000. Contemporary accounts describe men and women feeling in one moment the swelling of infection and in the next moment dropping dead, only to be thrown, without ceremony into one of the many shallow mass graves that surrounded the city.

Catherine was spared, but only to come of age in a world beset by other afflictions: plagues political and spiritual. Holy Mother Church had lost much of the moral authority she had gained in the ages of Pope Saint Gregory VII and the popes of the crusading era. Insofar as he ruled at all, the Successor of Peter ruled not from the Eternal City, but from the opulence and luxury of distant Avignon, where the papacy suffered its—as the Italians would have it—Babylonian Captivity.

The effect of the Avignon papacy on the city where Peter and Paul gave their lives for Jesus Christ was devastating. Brigandage was the rule rather than the exception, prompting Bridget of Sweden to lament, “Oh Rome your walls are broken down, your gates are left unguarded. Your vessels are sold and your altars are desolate. The living sacrifice and morning incense are consumed in the outer courts and therefore the sweetest odor of sanctity no longer rises from the Holy of Holies.”

The whole of Christendom suffered with the papacy so weakened. The King of Hungary waged war with both Venice and the Holy Roman Emperor. England began her series of unjust depredations on France that came to be known as the Hundred Years War. Indeed, the battle of Crecy, where English infantry bested the flower of French Cavalry, took place one year after Catherine’s birth. During the intermittent truces of that terrible conflict, unemployed bands of English mercenaries rode south to Italy and found employment offering their brutality for hire to the highest bidder among the warring Tuscan republics. Bernabo Visconti, Duke of Milan, squared off against the Pope, whose French legates ruled their Italian provinces like occupying foreigners rather than princes of the Church. Florence, Lucca, Pisa, and Siena fought each other, even as they shifted alliances on the world stage. And within the Tuscan republics themselves, internal strife setting commoner against noble and papal loyalists against rebels, made city life hazardous according to ever-changing political winds. Florence’s battle between Guelphs and Gibbellines is the most famous of these internecine wars, but Catherine’s Siena suffered internal strife every bit as severe as plot, conspiracy, and revenge killing meant that government changed hands with such frequency that those in power one day would find themselves in the shambles the next. “The laws that the Sienese make in October are not valid in November,” wrote Dante.

Things had hardly improved a generation later.

And yet, in the midst of this chaos and without separating itself from the world, the Benincasa household was an oasis of joyful family life, industry for the glory and honor of God, and sanctity. It was in this domestic Church that Catherine came of age.

Believers in the miracles that attach to the childhood of Catarina Benicasa would be ridiculed as credulous by our own age, but there is enough testimony of a miraculous adult life to suggest a childhood marked by wonders. Visions of our Lord and his saints reinforced the girl’s piety made manifest in the severest of self-imposed privations: fasting, flagellation, and denial of sleep. At an early age she vowed to give herself entirely to our Lord. When at last she declared her intentions to her family her brothers threatened her and her mother wailed aloud. It was not merely a matter of obedience. The most reliable force against the political unrest of Siena was the relationships among extended families joined by marriages. Giacomo, however intervened declaring that Catherine had chosen a better Spouse than they could ever hope to find.

Catherine’s mystical marriage to Our Lord, attended by our Lady and St. John the Evangelist and sealed by a ring of pearls visible only to her, came on the night her fellow Sienese were in the throes of pre-Lenten revelry. Her mission clear, the little dyer’s daughter devoted her life to works of mercy. In time she received the mantel of the Dominican tertiaries and took up service of the wretched in the Siena’s hospital, Santa Maria della Scala. Catherine’s patients were those no other would take: aged courtesans and “superannuated prostitutes,” as Sigrid Undset describes them, who took perverse delight in scolding their saintly nurse and spreading vicious rumors about her. Catherine served them all the more, cleaning their fetid sores and bringing them back to God through her example of humility.

Catherine’s evident sanctity attracted countless souls seeking counsel. She turned philanderers away from their sins and converted hardened criminals on the way to the scaffold. She attracted the attention of theologians seeking to expose a hoax. A weeklong examination before Florence’s Dominicans found a devout young girl given abundant graces by God and with a remarkable command of both Catholic doctrine and Tuscan politics. There she met her biographer and spiritual director, Blessed Raymond of Capua, and was also assigned several priests who served as confessors to her growing flock, the Caterinati. And there, in Florence, she found herself drawn into the political disputes of 14th Century Christendom.

The political details of this age are bewildering. What Christians must take from the story is the consistent theme of Catherine’s political correspondence. We have today nearly 400 of Catherine’s letters, an archive of priceless value to medieval historians. The uneducated girl could not write, yet early in her public life she acquired a band of secretaries. All of them would testify that the saint could dictate three letters at once on different topics and not lose the thread of any of the letters. On one occasion all three of her secretaries, having themselves lost the thread of their respective letters, copied the same sentence. They all paused to look at Catherine. For whom was the sentence intended? “For all of you,” she answered, “and you will see when we complete the letters how our Lord has ordered the words of each toward his perfect plan.”

To all of the nobility and politicians to whom Catherine wrote, she stressed: a good ruler must first be a good person. “Politics are never anything but the product of a person’s religious life,” she wrote. “Break the chains of sin; cleanse yourself by confession. Only then will you be real rulers. For who can really be master if he is not master of himself, if reason does not rule his passions?”

Catherine’s greatest political success was also a spiritual triumph—convincing Pope Gregory XI to return the papacy to Rome. Because she commanded the actions of the pope, it is doubtless this action which most excites the feminists. Alas, they entirely miss the point. At no time ever in her correspondence with Gregory, which is indeed direct, does she question his authority. On the contrary she tells him “Esto vir!” You are the man. Use your authority.

Catherine’s great spiritual contribution, beyond that of her daily example, is her Dialogue, dictated during a series of ecstasies over the summer of 1378 before her departure for Rome. Catherine called her Dialogue “the book in which I found some recreation.” When Pope Paul VI declared Catherine a doctor of the Church in 1970, he described her theology as reflective of “the Angelic Doctor in a surprising degree.” The theme of the Dialogue is the soul’s journey to salvation through ever deeper union with the sufferings of Christ, from which flows all of his mercy. “She exalted” Paul VI says, “the redeeming power of the adorable blood of the Son of God, shed on the wood of the cross in expanding love, for the salvation of all generations of mankind.”

After dictating her Dialogue, Catherine left for Rome. The year was 1378. Her Caterinati followed her to the eternal city and lived life much as they had in Siena before she had begun her political adventures. They cared for the poor and destitute, begged for their own needs, copied the saint’s letters, and listened to her counsel.

So severe had been her fasts, by 1380, Catherine could take no food or water at all. Each morning she struggled to walk to Mass at St. Peter’s and remained there all day in prayer at the tomb of the first pope for whose successors she had fought so hard. In her final eight days she was struck with a paralysis from the waist down. When Catherine, at the age of 33, was at last united with her Bridegroom, thousands and thousands of mourners came, and miracle after miracle was attributed to her intercession.

Canonized within a century by her fellow Sienese, Pope Pius II, St. Catherine’s body lies, appropriately, under the main altar in the Dominican church of Santa Maria Sopra Minerva in Rome. We can say with confidence that it is nothing short of providential that the site of an ancient temple to the goddess of wisdom is now transformed in Christ as the resting place of one of his wisest saints.

Christopher Check is President of Catholic Answers. Sigrid Undset’s life of Catherine of Siena, available from Ignatius Press, is his favorite work of hagiography. Join him on the upcoming Catholic Answers Cruise where he will talk about the long-forgotten battle of 1759 that decided the religious fate of the United States.

#Catholic Answers #Christopher Check #CAMO #Catherine of Siena #Catholic History

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jojuarez26 · 8 years ago

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I hate you I love you Part 64

Mature content and strong language Divergent fanfiction: Eric/OC @pathybo @tigpooh67 @ljvosscmt @scorpio2009 @beautifulramblingbrains @clublulu333 @frecklefaceb @crystalbaby12 @angolodiparadiso @deepfrz @emmalouwho1999 @randomness-ensues @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @glamlover87 Sorry it's taken me so long to finally get here. Hope you all enjoy!! I sat starring at myself in the mirror waiting for them to come drag me down the aisle. Oh hell who am I kidding? I'm ready to run down the damn thing. It had taken both Eric and I alot of pain and life lesson's to get here. We are ready, well as ready as we'll ever be. Our little girl must be excited too, she's doing back flips in there. "Jess?Did you hear me?" Tech was looking at me with a big dopey grin on his face. "Uh, sorry just, lost in thought." "He's lucky you know, to have you. I think you and my niece are the game changer. I know he hasn't known I'm his brother until recently, but I've known for four years. I've watched him. He's never seemed quiceremony. omplete unless he's with you, " he looked so pleased to know Eric had found happiness. "It goes both ways you know. He saved me too." I started to tear up. Damn hormones. "Yes indeed he saved my sister too. I thought I'd never get her back, " Jeremiah looked amazingly happy. Eric had been the light at the end of the tunnel for twins who thought the universe had forgot about them. "Oh, before I forget, Eric had my father run some test after your last set of labs. He wanted to discuss it with you both after the ceremony." Tech had a strange look on his face. A small tinge of panic ran up my spine. I really hope and pray Jeanine hasn't managed to still reak havoc on our lives from beyond the grave "Is everything alright? Is something wrong with our baby?" the worry apparent in my voice. "Oh no! Sorry Jess shit I am an idiot. I think everything is fine. Let's go. Your groom awaits," both of our brothers grabbed an arm and walked me to the doors of the Dauntless ceremonies room. My wedding party all had smiles and tears of joy as we got ready to do this. I watched as everyone headed around the corner. My breathing got heavy. Shit I'm doing this. "Jess breath. It's just Eric. Our you ready?" thank God for the best brother a girl could ask for. I just nodded my head yes. I wasn't sure I could speak. Jeremiah kissed me on the cheek and intertwined his arm with mine. The doors opened and all my fears just vanished. There he stood, looking like a dream come true. I was in awe of the smile that broke out on his face and the way you could visibly see his breath hitch when his eyes met mine. I scanned the room with my eyes. The fews friends and family that meant the most to us where all here. I saw nothing but love and joy in their faces. The two cruelest, angriest just down right assholes of Dauntless. Both sporting smiles to rival a sunrise for the first time not trying to hide the emotions that consumed us. We walked closer to my future and I saw the glistening in his eyes. Oh momma I hope you are smiling down to see Jeremiah and I made it. We are happy Blessed and loved. Jer took my hand and placed it in Eric's. He kissed my on the cheek and gave Eric a strong pat on his shoulder before he went to stand next to Crystal. I looked at Max who was to officiate us and he looked like a proud poppa bear. We are like children to him and he couldn't be happier. He turned to both of us with a sparkle in his eyes. "I don't think I have ever been happier to over see a wedding than I am in this moment. Let's begin Eric's POV I looked up and I felt my lungs and chest tighten. She was a vision. Her pregnancy glow had never been brighter. I couldn't contain the smile that took over my face. I never thought this day would come. I never thought I would be happy and find love. I had been told my whole life I was unlovable. Not capable or deserving of love and happiness. Yet here I was, watching this beautiful creature carrying my child walking towards me with the most loving look I have ever seen in someone's eyes, walking towards me. Towards our future. I felt a foreign sting behind my eyes. I will NOT CRY!! I am Eric fucking Coulter, most ruthless leader in Dauntless history. Who the fuck am I kidding? Right now, I am just Eric who is a fool head over heels in love with the girl of my dreams who just joined her hand with mine. This is the best day of my miserable existence. Because I will never be miserable again. In the beginning of my life in Dauntless I had one goal, one purpose. To become the most feared and successful tyrant in Dauntless history. None of that matters anymore. I want to be the man that makes her happy and protects her for the rest of her life. I want to be the father mine never was. I want my daughter to know she is loved and the proudest accomplishment of my life. Four's POV I never ever thought I would see the day that I was proud of Eric Coulter and hope that his life was finally complete and full of happiness. Sure he was still going to be an overbearing fuck, but that's just part of who he is. When I first met him I loathed his existence. I never felt so much hatred for another human being in my life. Well maybe one other person exceeded him. He was cold, callous and had one goal. To make everyone around him cower in fear and bend to his will. I thought he would be the downfall of Dauntless that would bring this broken faction to its knees. Then he met them. Jeremiah and Jess Baker. Two kids who had a tough break in life. Suddly Eric started to change. He became human. When Jeanine took Jess hostage it brought the beast to his knees. I would never have risked my life for that miserable, selfish bastard. But for her I would, and I did. Saving her showed the man behind the mask. One I came to respect and miraculously call my friend. I could only hope this was their new beginning and a new legacy to leave behind. Jess"s POV "So we all know unless it is a predrafted speech that I must tell all you thick skulled idiots I am not the one. So is there anything you both like to say to each other before I make this legal and binding?," leave it to Max. We both just shook our heads yes. "Eric you go first." He cleared his throat and struggled to reign in his emotions. We didn't do feelings and loving, touching moments. Especially in front of an audience. Today however, would be the once in a lifetime exception. "Jessica Elizabeth Baker. You have changed my life. There will never be enough words to express how you have brought light to a life riddled with darkness." he stopped and tried to regain his composure. "Thank for seeing the best in me and believing in me even when the rest of the world turned it's back on me. I love you." A single tear rolled down his cheek. He never once took his eyes off me. If he would've never have been able to finish. I took a deep breath and tried to find my voice. I didn't know if I could speak without becoming an emotional hot mess. "Eric E. Coulter. The man I loved to hate and hated to love. When I lost my mom I lost my soul. My light had burnt out. Then you came into my life. You refused to let me give up and go quietly into the night." the tears started to roll and my voice quivered. "I am not alone anymore. You have made sure of that. Somewhere along the way I realized I felt something for the first time in a long time. Love. Hope and the desire to actually live again, not just exist. I love you," I had so much more to say, I couldn't do it. My emotions had got the best of me. I was done and hoped it was enough for him to know how much he meant to me. He took the pad of his thumb and gently wiped my tears away. "By the power invested in me by the governing faction of Dauntless I know present to you Mr. and Mrs.Eric Coulter. Son kiss that beautiful bride," Max had watery eyes too. Damn it. Eric and I just broke Dauntless. My husband cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine. This was a kiss like none other we had shared. It was soft and passionate. It was slow, no hungry urgency. It was a way to express all the things we couldn't find the words to say. "Get a damn room and save that shit for later. Let's eat some damn cake! " Lissette, my wonderful crazy bitch. Unfortunately that's when the joy ended. Suddenly the alarms started to go off and the compound started to go into lock down. "What the fuck," Eric growled out drawing his gun. Everyone who was cleared to carry a weapon drew them. All the screens in the compound crackled to life as Evelyn's evil smirk filled the screen. The ice that suddenly filled my veins dropped to my stomach. "Hello Dauntless. How precious was that. I must say I am a little offended that I didn't get an invite. No worries, I came to collect what I am owed. Tobias, Jessica, it's time for you to come home." she had a maniacal look to her. You could hear the gun fire and chaos erupt. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion. It took a moment to realize that Eric was barking instructions at me. "Sweetheart I need you to snap out of it and fucking listen to me. Are you with me?" I could hear the edge of panic creeping into his voice. "Yeah, yeah. What is the plan of action?" this was like my fearscape come to life. "I need you to take Em, Crystal and Laurence. Go to the apartment. Initiate leadership over ride lock down. Don't open it back up for fucking nothing. I will open it up when it's safe. I love you," he crashed his lips to mine in a quick strong kiss. "Jess go. Be careful. I'll see you soon." I had a sinking feeling he wouldn't. "I love you too," I didn't like the way it sounded like I was saying good bye. Eric gave me a stern look. "I'll see you soon. Go. NOW." his authoritative leader mode was kicking in. "Alright let's go. Stay close, stay behind me and stay alert." I slipped into leader mode as well. I drew my weapon and headed threw the corridors towards my home An eerie mist started to flood the hallway. I looked back to see my three companions dropping to the floor. I started to feel myself slowing down and my eyes slipping shut. I took the last of the strength I had to lower myself to the ground and protect my stomach. The last I saw was a masked man hovering over me. Eric's POV The best day of my life was quickly turning into my worst nightmare. I watched my wife go out the door with her weapon drawn. A chill slid down my spine.

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