#most of all i pray my sacrifices will be enough to save the children

[eimearkuopio]

Maybe the world would be better if, instead of choosing the lesser of two evils, we at least aimed for the greatest of an infinite number of goods. We all contain multitudes. Let's stop listening to the smaller of the two devils, and see what the angels have to say. If the devil made you do it, it was only possible because he was inside you all along; and if you accept that entities which transcend gender should only be referred to by a specific human-based pronoun, maybe don't then use that linguistic definition as the basis for how you think society should work, and apply it to every complex multi-faceted individual you encounter. You'll miss out on a lot of opportunities for good if you do.

If your limitations cause you to sin, cut them off and cast them into the fire. It hurts, but the fire cleanses and purifies and whatever survives will do you and your children a better service. Just remember that these instructions are parables and not meant to be taken literally. It's just the only way to get the message across; and society is finally ready for the Third Edition of the Word.

[luxlightly]

I need all GabV1el fans to be aware of the Symbrock pairing between Eddie Brock and the Venom Symbiote (who has no name and uses it/its pronouns in the comics) whose 100% real, canon origin is that Eddie, an EXTREMELY Catholic man, desperate for his father's approval, does some really stupid reporting that ends up backfiring and he becomes a laughing stock. His father disowns him and he becomes so angry and cold from it that his wife leaves him.

One day, as the pain grew too much to bear, he goes to church after church, praying at each one that God send him a reason to live, or permission to commit the cardinal sin of suicide.

Finally, he comes to the last church, Our Lady of Saints, and prays for God's forgiveness as he is going to kill himself, having lost all hope for any reason to go on.

But then, from the rafters, descends the symbiote, who had been waiting there to die, after the being it loved most tried to kill it for the crime of being alive. Having survived trying to sacrifice itself to save the very person who tried so hard to kill it, too heartbroken to go on, it had resigned itself to die without a host.

But, in Eddie, it senses someone as filled with the same pain, passion, and loneliness as it is, and reaches out to stop him from taking his own life.

They bond and Eddie enthusiastically welcomes it, considering it to be an angel sent directly from God in his hour of need.

He then pretty much immediately has it take the form of a priest outfit and tries to kill the person who tried to kill the symbiote with the very same bell while he shouts biblical allegory and extremely homoerotic threats. Eventually they swap the priest outfit for a fuck ton of teeth and claws and tongue because Eddie is into that, and run around trying to kill Spiderman until they decide they are bored of that and want to go focus on their relationship.

The symbiote feeds off of the brain chemical produced by Eddie's love for it and supplemments it with chocolate when needed.

Eddie calls it "my other", "my love", "my beloved", "my darling". The Symbiote, who was seen as a genetic abnormality and sentenced to death by its own people for its desire to live in harmony with its host instead of destroy it, learns through Eddie what it is to truly love and be loved, as opposed to just trying to be whatever someone else wants it to be.

They canonically have recreational sex and have 7 biological children (spawned agametically. Not from the sex. Can't stress enough that's just for them because they are married)

[sbbreflections]

LEVITICUS

3. Leviticus

The Lord, through Moses, further solidifies His relationship and covenant with the Israelites, and outlines His list of non-negotiable rules - along with blessings for those who obey, and punishments for those who would disobey Him. It is a call to Holy Living through choice and action.

This is the book where proper practices for making Holy Sacrifices and Offerings to God are detailed. A major thing of note that casts a sort of shadow on Leviticus is the “Sin Offering” which at the time needed to be done on occasion of specified sin as well as on a yearly ritualistic basis to cleanse the people. If I understand correctly, this particular offering practice would become obsolete when Jesus was crucified and died for our sins.*

Also defined are:

1. Clean and Unclean Animals (which should and should not be eaten/touched),

2. Particular Purification Rituals,

3. Prohibitions regarding Sexual Practices and the handling of Blood, and

4. Personal Holiness/Conduct (how one sets themselves apart as “holy” and in reverence to The Most High) {Leviticus 19}

Some of the ordinances set in this chapter had not been mentioned previously and that means to me that God was capable of not only creation and destruction, but also of awareness and modification. It’s almost as if he utilized the SWOT analysis after each Human Hiccup. I believe that the Lord set these laws with the Israelites as a continued test of faith and loyalty to Him. “Before we go any further, hear me and hear me well.” I mean, yes He would want to see his children prosper, but He didn’t mind executing with fury, as well. If His people could rebuke the sins of those who they lived with before, and refuse the sins of those who they would come into contact with BECAUSE GOD SAID, they would of course find favor in His eyes.

Think in Morgan Freeman’s epic voice: “I have saved these {people} and given them food, water and protection. Still, they are capable of doing what they want because I have also given them free-will. I give them what they need, and still, they consistently find new ways to defy me - even after I tell them what should not be done and what will happen if they do… when I show them my Glory, they fear me awhile and turn back to their wits soon enough. They are either brave or stupid. But at least if I tell them *everything* they need to know not to do, their punishments (or rewards) would be justified. They will worship me, for I am the Lord their God, or they will perish.”

I’m not mocking The Lord at all, I assure you. I like movies and this is how I imagined he may have felt during the times. I do pray this is not offensive to anyone who matters.

I can fully understand how this chapter (the one that basically calls most of us all Sinners) could be a trigger for most people in the world today - it is where [who we are] and [what we do] that would have undeniably disappointed our Father in Heaven is written plainly and lives forever. It is where our devilish neighbors pull a line from to demonize the next sinner. While some of the information is outdated and/or simply irrelevant for modern day Christians*, other parts do give us a first glance at right and wrong in the eyes of TMH (and those who walk with Him). And so, it is a very important book to familiarize yourself with if you want to be “good” in the general sense of the word. Because of Jesus’ crucification, we experience wrath and reward much differently from what is written here - as in, punishments are not carried out the same as they were anymore, and some of these regulations no longer apply.

Be wise. Use discernment.

Numbers is next.

Originally post dated February 21, 2024.

Written x SP

[fleurraine]

When did we stopped believing in good? Is it when we experienced the bad—or when you became evil itself? / I had my first thirst of blood at the age of five. And it was all because I was never given fresh water to help my drying throat to ease.

“Forsaken Believer” by Fleur, 2024.

Ruined by many hands whom they claimed themselves to be clean, and yet, when they soak their arms below the river, the watter suddenly fell into a pit of crimson red liquid, the most filthiest blood gushing off from their well-praised hands made by saints. / Do you raise your gun in my head and paint my brains on the walls as you claim yourself to be the one who saves them all? / How pitiful it would be to be saved by a god like you. / Can you blame me if I were to choose my own demise than to be saved? I was once a slave—a slave to a system made by hypocrites—and I wished an angel to fly down from the heavens to come and take me to paradise; and only then I realized how gods has their ears closed to those who cannot praise its name enough. / I never had enough arms and limbs to sacrifice, so I cannot praise. I only ever had my voice and my soul, and yet it never really mattered more than gold and treasures. / I wanted an angel to wrap its wings around my fragile figure, telling me that I am safe from the cruel word—but no angel showed up to my window.

I plead, and I plead, and I plead. (DEAR LORD, CAN YOU HEAR ME? I PRAY TO THEE.) I bowed down my head to the floor, and yet I was never comforted by him. Has he gone deaf? My throat can no longer scream. I have exhausted myself upon calling his name. (I AM BENDING MY KNEE, PLEASE LISTEN TO ME.) I am kneeling in front of his feet—and yet I was not seen. Has he gone blind? Why can he not take a glance to my bloody wound? (FATHER, WHO ART IN HEAVEN. PLEASE LET ME FEEL YOUR DIVINE BLESSING.) I felt myself slowly dying as my wound kept on growing within my skin, as if a large insect was having its meal as it swallows my flesh. I’m dying, but His grace cannot seem to find me. (HAVE I GONE INVISIBLE, MY LORD? WHY HAVE YOU NOT HEALED MY SUFFERING?)

A DEMON. A DEMON INSTEAD SHOWS HIMSELF BEFORE ME. He touched my wounds and gave it a kiss, as he mumbled how pathetic I was to kneel. HE CALLED THE GODS PUPPETEER AND I WAS A STUPID PUPPET TO FALL FOR ITS HANDS. He grabbed my hands and held them tightly, as he then told me how there’s better light down the pits of fire than to the clouds above. / He can show me better future and fruitful life, with no more reason to hold back from feeding myself; my GREED, my ANGER, my LUST, my THIRST. / He promised me a throne beside him on his home as he offered me his heart while he asks for my soul. He looked so charming, and that I fell on his sweet arms; and suddenly, I was born into a new being. I AM NO LONGER YOUR SLAVE. I AM NO LONGER YOUR PITIFUL PUPPET. I AM NO LONGER YOUR NEGLECTED CHILD OF GOOD. I am the new epitome of what makes children cry at night. Being known as a pest for their goods. A nightmare that haunts every dreams of an innocent mind.

I AM THE NEW DEFINITION OF DARKNESS; THE EMBODIED EVIL LIVING AMONG GODS.

[yandere-wishes]

Sacrificial Bride Part 1//Twisted Wonderland X Reader//

Alright well, that's enough writing for the next few days if you excuse me I'm going to go sulk in my corner. Huge thanks to @softyswork​ who’s story about reader being sent to Malleus as a bride inspired this series. Also, I REALLY want to make some sort of modern-day Frankenstein it would be an amazing scientific breakthrough! You'll understand what I mean when you get to Idia's part lol.

💚🐉Malleus Draconia🐉💚

It was a common rumor around your village that ever since the death of the sleeping princess your settlement had never been the same. For you, this was nothing more than a fairy tale meant to spark a scrap of hope in the hearts of naive, suffering children who were still too young to fully understand why their fathers never returned from their hunting trips or why there was barely anything to eat for dinner.

Every time you heard this dreaded tail, you couldn't help but scuff. For as long as you've been alive your town had been in utter disarray and chaos. Monsters from the woods -what the town's folk called "fae"- attacked the village daily. Stealing jewels, destroying homes, sometimes even swallowing children or sucking the blood of the dormant. There was also the looming threat of the green flames. Blazing emerald fires who couldn't be subdued by neither water nor dirt. They advanced further into the territory of the village by each full cycle of the moon. Leaving behind in their trail, thick impenetrable thorn bushes that had taken the homes of many and the lives of many more.

Awful, dreaded creatures those fae where...

But alas you did not yet know just how cruel they could be.

On another periodic morning, your younger sister jolted you awake, dragging you to the town center before you got a chance to change out of your nightgown.

In the center of the square was short man..no...not a man you noticed his pointed drawn back ears. "Fae" you gasped under your breath. But unlike the monstrous fairies that ravished your town taking on the appearances of trees and woodland creatures, this one resembled a boy of 15. The young-looking male began to speak, his voice was clear like crystals, and to his tone bats began to flock overhead. "Truly dreadful, these fairy folk are" your sister uttered in terror as she buried her face in your side.

"Heed my words, mortals. The young prince of thorns has decided to take a wife. By the setting of the sun a full day from today, two of his guards will come to collect your offering. If you chose to disregard this Wa-- friendly advice, then what is left of your town will be decimated before the end of summer. Your children eaten, wives imprisoned and husbands killed!" An unsteady hush rippled through the crowd. Some hothead youths began to throw rocks at the stranger only for the bats hovering above to shield him from the stones. Mothers hugged their children close begging for the man to "just leave".

"If" the man's voice rose once more like a cadaver emerging from the grave " my young master is pleased with your sacrifice than we shall reward you! Bring good health and prosperity to your otherwise sick and decaying village." His last words melted into the open air before he vanished in a cloud of squealing bats and ebony smoke.

The town's folk erupted in screeches, cursing at their deities while simultaneously praying to any god that would listen.

"Help us!"

"save us!"

"Don't let them take our daughters!"

The screams escalated to the point where you had to cover your ears with your shaking hands. Your eyes scanning each of the villager's faces, a pathetic lot they were, you thought to yourself. Scared by the words of a young magician. In a flash, your heart sped up, adrenaline pumping through your veins, as you marched to the center square where the boy had been mere moments ago. You stood tall, cupping your hands over your mouth.

"Listen well you disquiet, mindless lot!"

All eyes turned to you. Some holding looks of confusion, whilst others harbored glances of hope.

"This fae is lying! No way will they be satisfied with just one measly girl! No matter who we sacrifice to their so-called master, they'll still come after us! They'll still destroy our village! Let's not be stupid! Let's find a way to barricade the city instead of arguing over who to sacrifice!"

For an endless second all was quite. It was like the world had stopped turning, frozen in its place in the universe trying to decide what to do.

Then it happened,

Chants reverberating through the air

"Sacrifice her!" "Sacrifice her!"

"Sacrifice her!" "Sacrifice her!"

"Sacrifice her!"........................

WHAT!

NO!

DID THOSE MORONS NOT LISTEN TO A SINGLE WORD YOU SAID!

The crowd started advancing. Eyes locked on your figure like those of a leopard on its prey.  Their mouths were all a gap, chanting the words "sacrifice" over and over again. From behind the mob, your eyes locked with your sister's. You could practically feel the despair rolling off her figure as she covered her eyes and fell to her knees, her whole body rattling with a sort of distant rage...

A full day....it's funny how time passes all so quickly no matter what you do. Day in and day out nothing changes, pain is still pain, laughter is still laughter. Time just keeps slipping from between your fingers like sand. Even in the direst of times, Time doesn't show mercy, never once does it cease. It just ticks and ticks away until the inevitable moment arrives.

Your sister and aunt -the only two relatives that you hadn't lost to the fae- were in charge of preparing you for your so-called "wedding". Since your town was poor and isolated from other civilizations there wasn't much they could do to enhance your beauty. Smashing some berries to add color to your lips -and fervently ravishing the remains- using some coal to add shade behind your eyes, as well as around them and patting the dust of rose petals against your cheek. By the end, you hardly recognized the person staring back from the mirror. Sure the adjustments were minor but this was the most stunning you'd ever looked. "Is it almost time" your voice quivered, failing to hide the tears that began to fall. "Please don't cry sweetheart, we don't have any more coal to fix your eyes with." Your aunt's tone was monotone almost bordering on heartless. You couldn't really blame her, she'd gotten so used to having her loved ones plucked from her. One more would be no different. Sniffing as to keep the tears at bay, you nodded slowly. Your glossy eyes locked with your aunt's you could see the same fear and exhaustion in her fading irises as the night her son was slaughtered in front of her.

"Just a few reminders" your sister's voice was cheery like the chirping of early morning birds, but her face mimicked that of a kicked puppies. "Remember when the prince...fae...when he..you know...Oh, Lord please tell me he won't" She was shivering again. Her face twisted in horror. You knew what she was thinking, she was imagining you laying in the bed of that...that thing. She was imagining him entering you, kissing up and down your neck. Leaving patches of red skin over smooth flesh, bruises wherever his clawed hands touched you. She was imagining what was no doubt going to happen to you tonight...

the mere thought made bile rise to your throat.

"Darling, just keep saying how much you like it. It's all any man wants to hear." again your aunt or rather her lackluster form of speech was the rope binding you to your sanity.

"Do fae even have...those parts like humans do?" Your sister asked, only to be met with a glare from your aunt. "Stop wasting time on pointless questions! Hurry up and see if this dress fits your sister."

Sure enough, as you were escorted to where the thorn bushes met the village, two men, one standing tall and proud, whilst the other looked like he may topple over from fatigue at any moment, were awaiting you.

The green-haired man let out a haughty laugh, his blazing eyes scanning you from head to toe. "She's hardly worthy of the young master!" His dreadful voice was like the booming of thunder clouds. "It doesn't matter, Malleus-sama needs to be wedded off quickly so he can produce an heir. None of us are getting any younger by standing here debating the "worthiness" of yet another measly human" the silver-haired male's voice was the exact opposite of his comrades, his voice was soft and breathy like light drizzle after a storm.

The green-haired man looked ready to argue once more, but before he could open his mouth, his violet-eyed counterpart waved something thin in the air casing a pathway to open between the hedges.

It was dark between the brambles. The air was thick, stuffy, every breath was a struggle. Although it seemed neither of your traveling buddies minded the discomfort. Did fae even need air to survive?

After what could have been no less than a couple of hours, your small group made it to a large clearing where only a few rays of the sun leaked through the thick smoky clouds. Miss matched flowers in shades of grey littered the rocky barren ground. Maybe at some point, this place had been beautiful, stunning even...but whenever that time had been it was long gone now.

As you ventured farther into this monochrome land of loss and sorrow, the three of you approached a castle. It towered over everything else, grim in all its glory. "Young master Malleus is awaiting you inside..." The green-haired male's voice trailed off as his speech was interrupted by the deafening creaking of the doors parting open. Without another word the two men dragged you inside, pushing you through spiral staircases and long bleak passageways. Until you arrived at a lavish-looking room, a large throne sitting smugly in the front of the room. It's black, spiked appearance was enough to make you gasp in horror, you didn't desire to meet the monster that perched atop that throne. "Don't be so afraid." the silver-haired man whispers, his head is almost resting on your shoulder. "Malleus-sama is kind and fair. He is sure to love you better than any human ever could." you catch a hint of nostalgic sadness in the last part, like a long lost part of the lavender eyed boy's past caught in his throat like a glass shard.

Trumpets roared through the room blaring as two men, one short and fickle whilst the other tall and brooding walked in. "Malleus~" The short one sang as they both stopped in front of you "Say hello to your lovely new wife." the tall man's emerald eyes landed on you. His lips parted in a threatening smile...or maybe it was a smirk? He didn't seem to be too good at displaying emotions. Slowly he descended onto one knee, slipping your hand into his and kissing the top lightly.

"Hello, my darling little wife."

🧡🦁Leona Kingscholar🦁🧡

The After Glow Savanna was an absolute hell to be born in if your family did not belong to some royal inner court class. The endless days spent scavenging for scraps of food, walking miles for a simple glass of water, had become a sort of broken, habit beaten into the residents of the smaller less fortunate districts.

Eventually, you too would follow in your parent's footsteps, working odd jobs around the neighborhood, getting married to some guy, having kids, and giving them the same dreary life your parents had given you. It was simple -miserable- but simple never the less. In an odd way, you found a sort of comfort in how everything was set in stone. How you'd suffer through a few years then die of starvation or some disease in your husband's arms.

But little did you know that the only comfort you had in your horrible life was also going to be swiped from you.

When Ruggie, a dear childhood friend of yours returned from his prestigious school for the winter holidays you were overjoyed! A week with your best friend was the greatest gift you could ask for! But that excitement soon dulled when he announced to the neighborhood what the royal family had planned for the underdeveloped parts of the country.

"They want to demolish the homes and build parks and shopping strips instead"

The people of your tiny community gasped, shock and hopelessness mixing over their dirty, worn out faces. Some older siblings shielded the ears of their younger kin, some mothers hugged their children closer to their chests. "They can't do that to us!" Your voice was like a beacon through the thick fog of confusion. "We can't let them!" You turned to Ruggie who was seated next to you. His blue-grey eyes held a foreign sadness that you had never seen before. He was hiding something...something so grim that he was forced to shove it into the depths of his soul, locking it up and throwing away the key.

"There is a way..."

For such a hopeful phrase, Ruggie's tone harbored no happiness. You could practically see the tears that were clouding his beautiful eyes. "Tell us" someone from the crowd demanded, others soon joined in with their own chants. For a long moment, Ruggie said nothing, the shouts of despair falling on deaf ears.

"If.." his voice trailed off, as his gaze grew distant.

"If someone from the neighborhood were to marry the second prince..." Gasps of fear filled the air. Even the mere mention of the second prince's name was enough to send chills down people's spins.

"Then they could, as the newly appointed  princess, convince the royal family and counsel to scrap this monstrous plan." No one uttered another word. No one was brave enough to face the man who could destroy anything with a simple touch.

But the sake of these people, people who had nothing but their families and a muddy roof over their head was on the line.

Do something, a tiny voice in your head screamed, save them, it begged. You shifted your head so to get a glimpse of Ruggie's face. "I-" you began but were cut off before you could even finish.

"I know you would say that."

His voice broke over every syllable. He knew you would give up your depressing nostalgia for the sake of others. Life in the castle would be hell, being married to that monster would be something worst than the dwellings of the devil.

It was a speedy arrangement, so fast that your head didn't have time to process anything. In the end, it almost seemed like the royal family was desperate to find a spouse for their youngest son.

Just marry him! Was what all the absentee looks told you.

Early that morning, Ruggie had dragged you to the castle, all tears, and grumbles. The palace guards let him in with no restrain, it almost felt like he'd been here before. Your childhood friend led you to a room in the further corner of a grand hall. He told you to stay outside as he went in to chat with the prince. Moments later the newly appointed king and queen came to usher you into a privet room and discuss the marriage. Not an hour later your fate had been sealed, you'd be married off to prince Leona tomorrow at sunrise. For "historical purposes" your neighborhood would be preserved and even taken care of. 'Historical purposes' you thought 'more the like a bribe to get you to marry this beast.

that night you were dragged this way and that by the queen herself. Taken for fitting after fitting. Trying on hundreds of wedding dresses who's prices could feed every mouth in your neighborhood for months! "Leona isn't very classy" the queen sighed in disappear. "He would probably prefer you to be in something laxer, shorter if you will" the tailors ran around trying to find something that would fit her vague description, as you stood facing her royal highness.

"What's he like?" you asked soullessly

"Spoiled, although not as heartless as the rumors make him out to be"  She didn't seem to like giving straight answers

"will he harm me? It was an honest question, although the lack of thinking it took before the queen replied made your heart skipped a beat.

"Quite possibly, he is rather...aggressive at times. Just don't let his degrading comments get to you. He's not used to being around people"

The more she described the second-born prince the more it seemed she was actually speaking of some feral dog that had raised in isolation.

Oh, how doomed you were.

The wedding was even faster than the preparation. Ruggie walked you down an aisle of flowers, walking over the petals, killing them once and for all, ending their pointless existence. You stood by your self at the altar awaiting your husband to be. It took a rather long time before the doors were flung open and the king waltzed in carrying his struggling brother under his arm. "No need to worry, Leona was taking one of his catnaps again and forgot about today's events" the king announced, in what could only be described as a mock lively tone.

How on earth does someone forget their wedding! This prince really wasn't a typical human...heck you where beginning to think that the feral dog would have made a better groom.

snap, snap

A few magazine pictures here, a couple of family photos there...

Everything was so bright and loud...

right before you and the second prince were thrown into the darkness of his room. In the obscurity, you could ONLY make out the glowing of his emerald eyes.

You could feel him shifting closer, all the while you took shaking steps backwards. " I thought wives were supposed to leap into the arms of their husbands? Tell me little herbivore do I frighten you?"

Your voice refused to leave your throat, too afraid to come into contact with the prince.

"What's the matter? Did they not teach you to speak in on the streets you grew up on. Poor thing~"

Leona pounced across the room, tackling you to the ground. His sheer weight pinning you to the carpeted floor. The sound of fabric tearing echoed through the silence.

How careless these royal were was the only intelligible thought that came to your frenzied brain.

Goosebumps littered your skin as Leona's claws cut into your flesh. His lips kissed over each wound as he made his way up to your cherry painted lips.

"You look so cute, you know, like a little mouse about to get devoured by a starving lion."

💙💀Idia Shroud💀💙

The rhythm of his heartbeat was slowing down, it felt like the patter of ants atop one's flesh. He was dying...this was an irreversible fact. The love of your life was dying and there was nothing you could do but sit idly by and watch the life fade from his pale bruised face. Your thumb ran over his knuckles in robotic-like strokes. Hours had passed, you'd shed all the tears that you had. He was gone...that was all there was to it.

For a hopeless second, you flicked your eyes to the open window on the opposite side of the room, There was never any sun on the island of lamination but regardless today seemed brighter than any other day. "How cruel" you muttered in a deadpan voice. Outside something...or better yet...someone was running through the fields, chasing what looked like a butterfly. The young child had blazing blue hair a symbol of the Shroud family...

THE SHROUD FAMILY

Your breath hitch in your lungs, your heart began to pound furiously in your chest. They could help you though hopefully. There family where distant relatives of the god of the underworld and a few years back -to your regulation- the hair of the family had been able to semi revive his younger brother. If he was able to bring back a child from the dead than surly they would have no problem returning your lost lover to you.

Your eyes waltz over his dormant face one last time before you got up and ran for the door.

"This is all for you my love, all of this is for you"

The Shroud family mansion was located at the top of one of the many hills that plagued the island. It was a dark grisly building that resembled the castles from old tales, where monsters laid dormant. Rumors spiraled around the rural civilization, some saying that the family was cursed by the lord of the dead, whilst others claimed that the shroud family were the long lost descendants of the lord of the dead and the maiden of spring. The curse had been placed on the family by the temperamental mother of the maiden of spring, anathematizing the family to be plagued with death and disappear for the rest of eternity.

Regardless of what their misfortune was, they may very well be the last people on earth who could help you. Surely if the family had brought back their youngest than they could bring back your lover!

You knuckles tapped furiously at the old metal doors of the frightful residence. The rhythm was unkept, unsteady, it's mere sound radiated urgency.

"PLEASE HELP ME"

Your throat burned as you screamed out those three lousy words.

After what felt like forever, the doors cracked open, revealing a tall man obscured by the shadows. Any light that touched the interior of the house seemed to die acidity, making peering inside nearly impossible.

"What business do you have?" The man's voice was croaky as if his vocal cords hadn't been used in years. For a split second, you closed your eyes, trying to organize the thoughts in your head. "My...my...h-hus...lover, my lover is d-dead...o-or rather he is dying....probably fully gone by now..." despite the mess of stuttered letters and mixed-up words, the man seemed to understand your situation. With a long sigh, he pulled you into the somber house.

Fingers still wrapped tightly around your wrist he pulled you around, guiding you through the darkness until you reached a large room lit only by the mysterious blue flames of the fireplace. Sitting by the warmth was a...well it was hard to tell, her face -despite it displaying every bone of her visage coupled with dark sunken eyes- resembled that of a woman no older than thirty, whilst her body resembled a decaying skeleton. What was she? Was she the lady of the residence or yet another monster this bizarre family had created.

"My, love" the man began to speak, his voice was somehow cleared like it had been given some sort of jolt. "This young lady needs Idia's help, she wants to bring back her lover from the dead."

The woman said nothing, her eyes staring ahead, burning a hole in the wall right by your head. "What will she give him in return" despite her "deteriorating" appearance her voice was like soft silk on one's skin, melodious and fair.

"Why herself!" This time the man's voice boomed across the house, echoing through the hallways and falling on you like a cave in.

"M-myself! What the hell do you mean!"

"It sounds fair" the women agreed "my darling sweet son saves your lover and instead you agree to marry him! Oh how wonderful, just like in the tales about grandfather Hades!"

She seemed too thrilled about this, her snow-white eyes gleaming with a sort of delusional passion.

"Idia! Idia honey! Come down your father has a surprise for you!"

The hollow sound of footsteps soon filled the quiet air. Followed by another soft blue glow.

Was there no normal fire in this house?

But it wasn't fire, not exactly. When your eyes fell on the heir of the Shroud family, you suddenly felt a nervous wave crash over you. There was something -even more- unsettling about him, he looked nothing like his charming little brother. For one his hair wasn't...well hair! Sure you'd expect a small batch of blazes heading upwards but this was something else entirely! It resembled a large bonfire that floated towards the ground, rouge sparks falling in every which direction, sizzling and then dying abandoned on the floor. And his eyes, Miosis like pupils floating around in a pool of lemon yellow.

But all the physical appearances aside, the most unsettling thing about him was the gloomy aura that leaked off him, suffocating anyone in his presence. Nervously you took a step back only to be yanked forward again by the taller man.

"Idia baby!" His mother ran over to him, cradling his hands in hers "This cute young lady has agreed to marry you if you can save her lover, just like in that old tale about your great grandfather! Oh, my this is all so romantic!"

It seemed like no one here understood that you were in love WITH SOMEONE ELSE! Or maybe they did and chose to disregard it. Instead, using the bits they retained as kindling to feed their raw excitement. You shifted your gaze back to Idia's face. To your utter terror, he was...smiling? Could that...look...even be called a smile? It seemed more like the way a shark would bare its teeth at a defenseless seal! Oh, gods please don't let this...thing...be your future husband!

"It should be easy enough," His golden gaze landed on you "W-when did...did he die?" it took a few moments before you register that he was talking to you or technically asking you something. "A...A  few..." your voice cracked, tears streaming down your eyes.

"So recently...okay that shouldn't be a p-problem." He turned on his heels and walked back into the seclusion of the halls "I'll grab some things and meet you by the front door"

A few things ended up being a pile of wires and bolts. Something that looked like a light blue ball of energy and so many tools whose names seemed to go over your head.

Idia was kneeling by your lover's bed, pulling apart the skin and fusing metal in its place. Your darling's chest was cracked open, his ribs poking out towards the sky as if praying for life from the lord of the sky. Every once in awhile Idia would pull out a long tool with smoke floating from the top. He'd lay it on an organ watching as the tissue fiber sizzled away under the heat. He would then tie wires and small circular batteries inside.

"His heart stopped working, I'm guessing from some sort of shock"

You just hummed in response, too caught up in how the man you loved was beginning to look like a modern-day Frankenstein rather than a human being.

The sun had long since faded when Idia finally got up from his spot. His bones cracked and screeched at the sudden change, his muscles giving out halfway leaving him to rely on the wall for support to stand. Your lover's chest had been sewn back and covered with a silver piece of metal. His neck was wrapped in the same sort of alloy. His left arm had been cut open so Idia could shove the energy ball inside than cover it, leaving a small enough gap for wires that stretched from his chest to weld into the ball.

"He just needs a boost" Idia murmured that shark-like grin overtaking his pale face once more. From the side table, he plucked up to jumper cables and clipped them on either side of his neck. Jolts and crackles filled the room and sparks flew in every direction, the once-dead body shuffled around, arms and legs moving at random. You shrieked and duck behind Idia.

Only then did he pry the clips from his neck.

Nothing

for too long nothing happened... then there was a slight wiggle in one finger, then another. His eyes slowly began to prey open, looking over his surroundings. The moment his confused gaze feel onto you. Idia turned you around to face him, clumsily smashing his blue chapped lips onto yours.

From the corner of his eyes, Idia watched as the other man began to understand what was happening...even if he was just resurrected there was still agony at the sight of his lover kissing another...

Good! That should show him who you belonged to now!

[childofchrist1983]

As devotees of Christ, our aim is to spread the love and Word of God amongst all people. Christians must speak the truth in love, and more importantly, they must act in accordance with the truth that they speak. Jesus Christ "talked the talk" and He most certainly "walked the walk." Are we, as His believers and children, willing to do the same?

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time daily to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful Lord, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in the Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name and the Word that You have taught us. Give me the wisdom to speak truthfully, with words filled with zeal and love for others. Fill my heart with the passion that Jesus Christ had in His mission to save mankind from eternal damnation. We are all sinners, but through Him, we are made whole. I pray this in the name of the Father, the name of the Son and the Holy Spirit.

You and Your Holy Word and Spirit give us hope, peace, salvation, and so much more! Let our relationship with You be the foundation and pleasing in Your eyes, so that we may hear Your praise as we gaze upon Your face and enter Your Kingdom. Lift our spirits and our hearts. Light up our lives, O Lord. May we abide in You for all our days and beyond!

You are Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End! We know Your promises are true and we place our hope in You! May we continue to pray and seek You. Present us with daily opportunities to go to others with Your message of eternal salvation. May we live our lives with a spirit of thankfulness and may we always magnify You, O Lord. Allow our praises to You encourage others to seek Your face. Help us all to be humble and obedient to You. And help us to be courageous enough to seek You daily and to humbly and faithfully do our duty to You, spreading the truth of Your Gospel to all in all nations, as You commanded before You ascended back to Heaven (Mark 16:15-16). May our lives show the world Your light and Truth and that You are a loving God and Heavenly Father who delights in showing love and mercy. May we all be humbly and faithfully honored and excited to worship, glorify and serve You daily and to do Your will. You have been so good to us, far more than we as wretched sinners deserve. You are so good! So wonderful! Forever and always!

Thank you for keeping me and helping me in times where I am tempted to go astray. Praise be to You today and every day of my life and let me never forget all of the blessings that are given me by You. As much as the enemy will try, he will never be able to successfully breed doubt about who You are into the minds of anyone who truly believes and follows You. And I will follow and serve You all the days of my life and beyond! Thank you for the connection with You that we are given through Your Holy Word and Spirit. Thank you, O Lord, for all Your creation and Your miraculous ways. Thank you for being our stronghold and my refuge. Thank you for seeing us as worth the sacrifice. Thank you for sustaining us, loving us and defining us according to Your will and love for us. Thank you for making sure we are taken care of. Thank you for being the best friend we could ever have! Thank you for Your endless mercy and love that has saved us. Thank you for always protecting us and providing for us and for Your Spirit to help us when we are in need. Thank you for abiding within me and may I abide with You, my Lord. Thank you for giving us a chance to be saved from our sin and spend eternity with You. Thank you for adopting us as part of Your family in Heaven and making us one of Your own. Thank you for being our present help in times of trouble (Psalm 46:1). Thank you for always being near and for loving us. Thank you for giving us a reason to love others and so many more reasons to love, praise, serve and follow You. Thank you for Your selfless and sinless sacrifice. Thank you for Your guidance and protection. Thank you for Your Truth and light. Thank you for Your wisdom and strength and grace. Thank you for giving life to the world and to us. You give and take away – And we thank you for it. Thank you for everything! Your will be done! Blessed be Your mighty name! To You and Your Kingdom be the glory forevermore! In Your name we humbly pray, Amen and amen

[capitainelevi]

38, 69, or 75 lol but pls do it post Rumbling if you can of course! i just can’t get enough of what their life would be like 😪

Thank you for your ask!! ❤️❤️

Drabble challenge: Followers send a number to your ask and you write a drabble using that sentence/prompt in your piece. "You leave whenever you feel like it.", “Mind if I join you?”, and “I’ve had enough! I want to be alone!”.

Home Once the war ended, there was no need for Petra to ask: Levi would always choose to spend his remaining days by her side. Petra helps Levi heal while they look forward to brighter days. Canon universe. Word count: 2577

She had always been by his side.

Over time, Levi assumed that it would always be that way. He got comfortable as the years went by, despite the danger surrounding their lives. Petra had been his shadow for years, his right hand, to the point where she became an extension of him. The threats they faced together, the sadness, and the loss they shared, consolidated an unbreakable bond between them. Levi trusted Petra with his life, as did she.

Petra was the only one left. The last one to stay by his side. And he was about to lose her.

Sensing death surrounding her, Petra gave her captain a heavyhearted smile. The last thing she would have wanted was for his last memory of her to be of her shedding tears. There was no chance for them after all, no happiness to be found. Not after all they had done. Petra whispered- "Heichou... goodbye." as her vision went black.

Petra opened her eyes abruptly, terrified of the images still floating in her memory. Had she been a titan? No, it must have been a nightmare. Was it even a nightmare? Petra ran her fingers through the pebbles, trying to grasp herself onto reality. The last memory she could recall was of the heartbreak written all over Levi`s face as he silently bid his farewell.

As the mist surrounding her started to fade, Petra caught a glimpse of her captain, standing against a rock, with tears running down his cheek. A feeling of relief washed over her as she crawled her way to him, her legs too weak for her to stand on. Petra threw herself in his arms, squeezing him in a tight embrace, trying to convince herself that it was all real. That they had made it. Feeling Levi`s arms wrap around her trembling form let her tears run freely down her cheeks, and Levi let her cry against his neck.

"Is this over?"

Levi ran his hand up and down her back in an attempt to soothe her, not being able to grasp what Petra must have felt just mere minutes ago. He was still wary about it all being over. They had known nothing but fighting for survival for all those years, and he could not grasp the idea of peace.

"I don`t know."

Levi could not recall the events leading up to him laying on a hospital bed with Petra asleep in a chair next to him. Embraces, more tears, people yelling, Petra clinging to his neck, the way to the hospital, they all felt like a dream. Was Eren truly gone?

"Heichou, you`re awake."

The first thing Levi observed was the tiredness written on her face, the dark circles surrounding the hopeful look in her eyes, and he wondered just how long he had been asleep. He just nodded at her, his throat too dry for him to form any words. As if reading his thoughts, Petra put the water cup against his dry lips, and he nodded again in thanks.

"Everyone came to visit, but you`ve been out for three days."

Without giving it a second thought, Levi worded the first thing sitting on the tip of his tongue- "Is Eren gone?"

Petra just nodded, feeling grief wash over her at the image of the hopeful boy that looked up to her for guidance all those years ago. The boy that she involuntary helped massacre most of the world population.

"Did he come to you, Heichou?"

That was no surprise to Petra. Eren must have known there was nothing he could have said to the both of them that would convince them that his actions were the right ones. Nothing that would make the two of them feel like their squad`s sacrifice to protect him had not all been in vain.

"I think there is no need for formalities anymore, Petra. I`m retiring.”

Petra felt a wave of nostalgia hit her at his words, but she supposed she should have expected that. She tried not to let anxiety overcome her as the thoughts of his imminent departure took hold of her. Petra gathered all her courage to ask him about his future. Their future, she hoped.

"I suppose you`re right, Levi. What will you do now?"

Levi took his time to answer, but at the end of it, he was sure of his decision. There was no turning back for him. No regrets.

"Paradise`s not home for me anymore."

Petra was aware of the lump forming in her throat at hearing his words, troubled by the idea that the home they sacrificed so much to protect could not be called home anymore by the person she admired the most. But at a careful reflection, Petra was unsure if she had that same devotion towards Paradise as the first day she pledged her life to protect it. She tried to keep the tears at bay, at the thought of a life without Levi in it.

"Petra, you don`t need to ask. You already know this."

She had trouble containing the smile forming on her lips as a sense of relief washed over her. Her captain knew her so well. Not my superior anymore, she had to remind herself. Now that their mission was over, Petra hoped that something beautiful could blossom between the two of them, but she was content just by being by his side until the end of their time. Her love for Levi had always been strong, and while she knew feelings were not his forte, Petra saw that at the very least, Levi cared deeply for her.

"Where will we go?"

Levi just shrugged, the idea of a future still strange for him. He never expected to make it out of the war alive, and now, he had something to look forward to and someone to accompany him along the road. He was pleased Petra was going to be by his side, even if for a little while. But at the same time, his heart was conflicted. She deserved better than anything he ever had to offer her. But he would not take the choice away from her.

"Marley`s not a shithole, at least. It can be a start."

Petra listened to Levi debate what choices they had by himself while her thoughts were occupied with the words she needed to put together in her letter to her father. Her father had always been supportive of her choice of joining the military, and Petra prayed she would also be supportive of her following her heart this time.

Their conversation was cut short as the doctor entered the room, and when Petra tried to leave to give them privacy, Levi stopped her. He felt like she needed to know what his future struggles would be. Petra was relieved when the doctor emphasized how lucky Levi had been not to have a spinal injury, but the damage to his leg was still severe. She made a silent promise to him that she would be there by his side through his rehabilitation, no matter how much that took.

Petra let him rest as she went to get everything ready for their departure, leaving an agitated Levi behind her. "You can`t do all this shit by yourself."- he had argued with her, but she declined his offer to help her. As soon as the door closed behind her, Petra grinned, overjoyed at the idea of a future with him, even if that meant putting up with his foul mouth for many years to come.

As soon as Levi was well enough to leave the hospital, they both presented their resignation to their queen, anxious to put that life behind them. It made Levi`s stomach churn at being called a hero, but for Petra`s sake, he just kept quiet while the military praised their actions. Levi squeezed his fists so hard he could feel his skin bleeding thinking of all the countless lives that were lost in vain. That he indirectly played a part in. One look at Petra, and he knew she felt the same as him.

They both preferred the quietness of countryside life and using their savings, along with the money they accepted from Historia after many arguments they were able to afford a small house, comfortable enough for the two of them. But the surprise came when they started working on redecorating the house, and Levi popped a question which made her drop the paintbrush from her hand.

"How do you feel about kids?"

Petra`s mouth fell open, unsure of what to make of his question and the indifference plastered on his face as he asked her something she dared not think about. She had always loved children, but the military life she chose and motherhood were two dreams that she felt she could not achieve together. Petra tried not to get ahead of herself and picture holding a baby with her amber eyes and his raven hair in her arms before she knew what he meant.

"I haven`t given much thought about it, but I`ve always loved children."

Levi shook his head, frustrated at his lousy wording. He had hoped Petra would have picked up on his request. "Not kids. Teenagers."

"Teenagers?"

As Levi talked about Gabi and Falco losing their families and how, while they were still brats, they were still good enough kids who could come live with them, Petra could not help but smile. She had made a good choice. Levi Ackerman was a good man through and through. They welcomed the children into their new home as soon as the house was ready for them. Having the kids there, it gave them purpose.

But the next weeks had been hard on all of them, as Levi`s rehabilitation process was going to be long and hard on him. The wounds he suffered took a toll on him, as he went from being Humanity`s Strongest Soldier to someone with not enough strength to use a crutch yet, all in a matter of days. But Petra was determined to help him through it as best as she could.

Their days were filled with frustration, yelling, and cusses, and their nights were silent, with only the ghost of their former comrades and friends keeping them company. When the children asked if Levi was alright, Petra tried her best to put on a smile and explain to them that it was hard for him, but they would overcome it together. She had to believe that.

It was a particularly rough day when Levi finally snapped at her. His leg hurt like a bitch, his arms were sore, and he was tired of Petra`s optimism. He wished he could take the crutch and put all his frustrations and anger in it and use it to smash everything in the room to bits.

"I’ve had enough! I want to be alone!"

He regretted the words coming out of his mouth instantly as he saw Petra`s face twist in hurt. She left the room without taking a second glimpse at him, and when he tried to yell for her to come back, he had no words for her. Sometimes, Levi thought he must have been doing it on purpose, pushing her away in the hope she could chase the life that she deserves. Petra was the best woman he had ever met, and he had nothing to offer her. Nothing but anger and frustrations. He pictured her alongside a handsome, tall husband and a child in her arms, and he regretted keeping her by his side even more.

But Petra had never complained to him. No matter how many words he threw at her, how angry he was at life and himself, she never answered back, and she never blamed him for his roughness. He truly felt like he never deserved her.

Gathering all the courage he had left, Levi went to look for her and attempt to apologize to her, but he knew there were high chances he would mess that up as well. Levi once again wondered how Petra put up with him. He found her working on her candles, a hobby Petra had gotten into since they moved into the cabin. The villagers were ecstatic when Petra opened up a stand for Sunday market, and Levi had to admit he enjoyed the fresh smell her candles brought to the house.

"Mind if I join you?"

Petra just nodded, but she chose to work in silence while he watched her. Her eyes widened in surprise when he asked if he could help her, and while she was unsure of his crafting skills, they needed to put their fight behind them. She understood how hard it was on him, but she was at a loss in how to handle him. But she was confident in her decision to stay by his side, no matter what.

As expected, Levi had managed to make a mess of their kitchen in an instant, and Petra burst into laughter when his eye twitched at the sight. She knew an unexperimented Levi and candle making in his kitchen would be a recipe for disaster, but it was well worth it. Even with the chaos they now had to clean up. Hearing her laughter for the first time in months made him realize how much he had missed it.

"I`m sorry, Levi, I don`t think my clients would appreciate the products."- Petra giggled as she examined the attempted candle.

"Then they have shit taste."

They cleaned in silence until Levi cleared his throat to get her attention. Petra waited for Levi to gather his thoughts, and when no words came out of his mouth, she took hold of the conversation. She never wanted him to feel bad about what had happened.

"We don`t need to talk about this, Levi. It`s okay"

But his next words took Petra by surprise- "You leave whenever you feel like it."

Petra didn`t raise her sight from the floor as she barely whispered- "What would you have me do?"

Levi felt his blood boil with anger at seeing the woman he cared for more than he would ever admit put up with him. He both wished for Petra to leave him and stay by his side until he drew his last breath.- "Anything, Petra. I deserve it. Fucking yell at me, get angry, fuck, even leave me. Go be happy."

Petra tried to contain her sorrow, but she could feel the tears running down her cheeks. She wished Levi would see she would never find happiness without him by her side.

"But I am happy, Levi. I just want to stay with you."

"Stupid girl."

But it was her choice, and he was not going to push her away. Seeing Levi smile at her for the first time in months only made her cry harder, and she threw herself in his arms when he called for her. Levi let her cry for as long as she needed, the mess in the kitchen soon forgotten.

They spent the rest of the evening in front of the fireplace, with a cup of tea in hand. Levi thought it was about time he asked the question, and he put his cup down and straightened his back.

"Maybe we should open up a teashop."

Petra was adding more wood to the fire, but Levi could feel her smile as she answered- "I think I`d like that."

ao3

[loverandservantoftheahlulbayt]

🍂🥀🍂🥀 The Youngest 🥀🍂🥀🍂

🍂 Martyr of Karbala 🍂

🍂🥀🍂Hazrat Ali Asghar (as)🍂🥀🍂

🥀 Surah al-Fatiha 🥀

🍂 Bismillahir Rahmanir Raheem 🍂

🥀 Tonight is the 10th night of Muharram. Tonight is the eve of ‘Ashura’. A very tragic night. A very sad night. The last night for the 72 martyrs of Karbala’. 🥀

The last night for brothers to be with their sisters. The last night for sisters to be with their brothers. The last night for fathers to be with their children. The last night for mothers to be with their children. The last night for little Sakina to be with her beloved uncle ‘Abbas and dearest father Husayn.

Indeed, a night never to be forgotten.

A night to shed more tears. A night to do more matam.

🥀 The Night of ‘Ashura’ on the Land of Karbala’ 🥀

Mothers are sitting with their children. Umm Laila is with ‘Ali Akbar, Umm Farwah is with Qasim, Bibi Zainab is with ‘Aun- Muhammad.

What are these mothers of Karbala’ telling their beloved children?

They are preparing them for Jihad. They are preparing them to sacrifice their lives. Preparing them to die!

Why? Because they know Husayn is on the right path. The right path to save Islam!

Let us send our salaams to those mothers of Karbala’ for sacrificing their most precious for Islam.

‘Abbas the Alamdar! Like every night, ‘Abbas was guarding the camp.

Where was Husayn?

Husayn had gathered all his friends and companions in his tent.

“My friends, my companions, tonight is the last night. Tomorrow is the day of ‘Ashura’. Tomorrow is the day of Shahadat - martyrdom! None of us will be spared by Yazid's soldiers.”

Imam Husayn continued:

“My friends, my companions, you have suffered enough. There is still time to save your lives. Escape in the darkness of the night. I will have no objections. I will forgive you. Go, my friends! Go, my companions!”

Imam Husayn blew the candles off. There was total darkness.

Anyone could have escaped without being seen or embarrassed.

After a while, Husayn lit the candles.

How many ran away? One? Two? Five? Ten?

No one! Why did they not run away to save their lives?

Because, my fellow Husayni, they had recognised the truth.

Because they knew Husayn was right.

Because they knew Husayn was on the true path.

Because they knew their sacrifice would save Islam.

Husayn was lucky to be blessed with true friends and best companions, - faithful, truthful and pious!

Our greetings to those 72 martyrs of Karbala’ for their great sacrifice for Islam.

Imam Husayn made the biggest sacrifice.

In one day, he sacrificed his brothers, nephews and children on the land of Karbala’.

He remained patient after seeing so many dead in one day.

Did Husayn complain?

No, never!

On the contrary, after sacrificing his 18 year old son ‘Ali Akbar he looked up at the sky and said:

“Ya Allah, give me more patience. Ya Allah, is there anything else I can give for Your sake?”

Allah's will was Husayn's command. Husayn was prepared and willing to sacrifice his family. He never prayed to Allah to save his family.

Instead he prayed for Patience! Patience! And more Patience!

Allah! What a big Heart Husayn had in Karbala’!

‘Aun - Muhammad had been killed. Qasim was trodden to pieces. ‘Abbas was lying on the bank of River Furaat. ‘Ali Akbar's chest was torn open with a spear.

Is there anymore to sacrifice?

Tonight is the night of ‘Ali Asghar. The little Mujaheed - the little soldier and the youngest Shaheed.

‘Ashura’ came to the land of Karbala’.

One-by-one, Husayn's friends and companions were martyred.

‘Aun - Muhammad, Qasim, ‘Abbas and ‘Ali Akbar went to the battlefield and were martyred.

By Asr time Husayn was left alone.

The time had come for Husayn to go to the battlefield. Husayn said Fi aman Allah to everyone.

Husayn, with his sword Zulfikar on his waist, mounted Zuljiana, his horse.

Husayn rode his horse to a small mount, he then called out loudly:

“Is there anyone to help me? Is there anyone to help the grandson of the Holy Prophet?”

With this call, the grandson of the Holy Prophet, was giving one last chance to Yazid's men, the men who called themselves Muslims - the followers of the Holy Prophet.

Hypocrites! That's what Yazid's men were.

No one answered Husayn's last call. But Husayn heard the sound of crying coming from his camp.

Husayn turned around and returned to his tents.

“Zainab, your brother is still alive. Why are you crying?”

“My brother Husayn, when you called out, “Is there anyone to help me?”, ‘Ali Asghar fell from his cradle.”

Husayn knew what ‘Ali Asghar was trying to say.

Husayn went to Umm Rubab. ‘Ali Asghar was on her lap.

He was crying and Umm Rubab was trying to comfort him.

Husayn picked up baby ‘Ali Asghar and whispered in his ear. ‘Ali Asghar stopped crying. He looked up at his father and smiled.

“Umm Rubab, I am taking ‘Ali Asghar to the battlefield with me so that I can get some water for him.”

What did Husayn whisper in ‘Ali Asghar's ear? What made ‘Ali Asghar stop crying, and to smile? Husayn had whispered:

“My son, ‘Ali Asghar, do you want to come to the battlefield with me? Asghar, do you want to show your strength on the battlefield? Come, let us go, my little Mujaheed, my little soldier, Asghar.”

Umm Rubab changed ‘Ali Asghar's clothes.

Imam Husayn carried ‘Ali Asghar to the battlefield. It was very hot. ‘Ali Asghar was thirsty. Husayn covered baby ‘Ali Asghar with his abaa, to protect him from the scorching sun.

Yazid's men saw Husayn approaching with something in his hand.

“Look, Husayn is coming with the Quran. He has no one left to help him. With the help of the Quran he is hoping to win.”

Husayn walked to Yazid's soldiers. By moving his abaa he uncovered ‘Ali Asghar.

He held ‘Ali Asghar high with both his hands and said:

“O soldiers of Yazid, you feel I have offended you, but what has this little child done to you? His mother's milk has dried up. He has not had a drop of water for three days. He is dying of thirst. I beg you to give water to this innocent little child.”

Not one of Yazid's soldiers brought any water for ‘Ali Asghar.

Once more Imam Husayn begged:

Maybe you think that when you bring water for this child, I will drink it too. I will put this little child on the ground. You can come and give him water yourself.”

Husayn placed ‘Ali Asghar on the burning sand of Karbala’.

‘Ali Asghar lay quietly on the hot sand of Karbala’. His turned his head and stared at Yazid's men.

No water came for ‘Ali Asghar.

Husayn picked up ‘Ali Asghar and said:

“My son ‘Ali Asghar, my darling, you are too young to fight with a sword or a spear. My little Mujaheed, my little soldier, you are a grandson of ‘Ali. ‘Ali Asghar, fight your Jihad with your tongue.”

Little Asghar stuck his dry tongue out and moved it over his dry lips looking towards Yazid's men. He fought Jihad with his tongue.

The little soldier shot a strange arrow - his dry tongue.

It hit the hearts of Yazid's soldiers who had children of their own. They became restless. Some started crying.

They spoke amongst themselves:

“Husayn is saying the truth. What has this child done to us? Why is he punished like this? Let us give him some water.”

Umar Saad got worried that his soldiers will turn against him.

The little soldier's fight was very effective. Little ‘Ali Asghar was fighting Jihad his way.

Umar Saad ordered his best archer:

“Hurmullah! What are you waiting for? Silence the little child! Don't you know he is a grandson of ‘Ali? Hurry, shoot your arrow, before it is too late.”

Hurmullah aimed an arrow at ‘Ali Asghar. A small arrow for a little child? No! An arrow not with one head, not with two heads, but with three sharp heads.

Why? Why an arrow with three heads for such a small child?

My fellow Husayni! You will not be able to stop crying when you hear what happened next.

An arrow with three sharp heads flew across the desert of Karbala’. It was heading for ‘Ali Asghar. Husayn saw the arrow coming. He covered ‘Ali Asghar with his arms.

The arrow reached Husayn.

The arrow went through Husayn's arm and lodged in the tiny neck of ‘Ali Asghar.

‘Ali Asghar died instantly.

Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!

Poor Husayn, the poor father, who came to get water for his little child.

Instead of water, ‘Ali Asghar got an arrow in his neck.

What shall Husayn do now? What shall Husayn do now?

Husayn gently pulled the arrow from ‘Ali Asghar's tiny neck.

My fellow Husayni, put your hand on your heart and imagine the scene - a father removing an arrow from his child's neck. What a tragic scene!

Blood gushed out from ‘Ali Asghar's neck.

A voice came from the ground:

“No, Husayn, do not let ‘Ali Asghar's blood fall to the ground, otherwise no crops will ever grow from this earth.” Husayn looked up at the sky.

A voice came from the sky:

“No Husayn, do not let the blood gush towards the sky, otherwise, no drop of rain will ever fall from this sky.”

What shall Husayn do now? What shall Husayn do now?

The sky is refusing, the earth is not happy to accept Asghar's blood.

Poor Husayn wiped ‘Ali Asghar's blood on his face.

Husayn started walking towards his tents.

He saw ‘Ali Asghar's mother - Umm Rubab - standing by his tent. A mother anxiously waiting for her baby.

Husayn thought:

“How can I face Umm Rubab? What shall I tell her? How can I tell her that her baby has been martyred without water? How? How?”

Seven times, Husayn went forward and then turned back,

Saying:

Inna Lillahi Wa Inna Ilaih Raja’oon!

We are from Allah and to Him we will return!

He finally reached the tent where Umm Rubab was standing. “Rubab, come and take your ‘Ali Asghar. Rubab, your little soldier has died for the sake of Allah.”

Umm Rubab took her little child, ‘Ali Asghar. She hugged him and cried her heart out.

“Come with me Rubab. Enough, Rubab, enough. Let us bury our baby Asghar”

Husayn and Umm Rubab walked to the back of the tents.

Husayn dug a small grave with his sword, the Zulfikar.

Umm Rubab placed ‘Ali Asghar in the small grave.

My fellow Husayni why should we not cry tonight? Why should we not do matam tonight?

Have we ever heard of any other father and mother digging a grave and burying their own child?

Where can Husayn get water to sprinkle on ‘Ali Asghar's grave? There is no water to sprinkle on ‘Ali Asghar's grave.

Husayn sat by the grave crying.

Tears poured on the grave. ‘Ali Asghar's grave was sprinkled with Husayn's tears.

Inna Lillahi Wa Inna Ilaih Raja’oon!

We are from Allah and to Him we will return!

🍂🥀🍂 al-Islam.com 🍂🥀🍂

.

[sou-ver-2-0]

Why calling it "logic versus emotion" makes sense

At the end of chapter 2 in Your Turn To Die, the player is forced to choose between killing Sou or Kanna. Kanna frames this as a choice between "logic" and "emotion," where saving Sou is the "logical" choice and saving Kanna is the "emotional" choice. 

Personally, I love the writing in this part. I think it's the strongest writing in the whole game. However, since joining the YTTD fandom, I've read various posts from fans who don't like calling this a simple choice between "logic" and "emotion." For them, it felt like an emotional choice to save Sou, while it was a logical choice to save Kanna. After seeing this argument so many times, I decided to unpack my feelings on it. I also wanted to write my own defense of why calling this a choice between "logic" and "emotion" makes sense, at least to me. For me, it all comes down to how it’s written as a choice between two opposing worldviews, and I don’t focus on the little technicalities. I’ll also argue that the game is using descriptive language, rather than prescriptive language.

But first, we have to deal with a strange irony about this choice:

For the genre-savvy player, yes, it IS "logical" to save Kanna and "emotional" to save Sou.

Before writing anything about this choice, I need to acknowledge that Sara and the Player are two different people. They're obviously connected, and they inform each other's feelings and choices, but they still exist in different worlds. Sara is actually trapped in a Death Game. The Player is vicariously experiencing what it would be like to be trapped in a Death Game through a fictional story.

I'm not going to argue that Sara necessarily likes Kanna more than she likes Sou, and thus it is more "emotional" for her to save Kanna. It's possible to play Sara as someone who isn't that affectionate of Kanna, and she can act generously towards Sou. That's not the main issue here.

The issue is that the Player expects the fictional story to go in certain directions based on the morality of their choices, while Sara has no such meta expectations. The Player can reasonably expect to be rewarded with a happy ending at the end of YTTD if they make the "correct" moral choices. Saving Kanna feels like the "morally correct" choice on a gut level because she's a child, while Sou is an adult. So the Player may choose to save Kanna purely for logical reasons. They're not trying to be selfless or wise; they just want a reward from a videogame. And...they're not wrong! Immediately after saving Kanna, the player is rewarded with a cathartic scene with Joe, cluing us in to the idea that choosing Kanna is the "good path." 

Meanwhile, if the Player saves Sou, they're saving him in spite of knowing that this could logically lead to a "dark path." You might save Sou because he's a fascinating character, or because you're curious what will happen, or simply because you think he's cute. These are all emotional reasons. Maybe you don't expect any "happy" rewards if you save Sou, but you still expect the story to be exciting with him around.  

Speaking for myself, I want to see both the Kanna and Sou routes for reasons that are both emotional and logical. I sympathize with both characters, and I want to analyze them as they continue their arcs. I just think they're great characters connected to fascinating themes about humanity.

In other words, the Player is going to have all sorts of feelings about this choice based on the safety of their separation from the Death Game. It's only a videogame to us. We're not actually killing a child or a young man. We still feel sad about the story, but it's a safe sadness, one we can control. You can make your choice based on which type of tragedy is more interesting to you in the moment.

So that's how the Player experiences the choice, but what about Sara? Does it still make sense to call it a decision between "logic" and "emotion" for her? I would argue, "yes." First of all...

"Logic" and "emotion" are descriptive terms for the argument styles of Kanna and Sou, respectively. 

Using "descriptive" terminology means that we attempt to classify language as it is actually being used. Using "prescriptive" terminology means that we dictate how we should be using language.

When Kanna calls this a choice between logic and emotion, you might have thought she was being prescriptive. You might have thought something like, "You can't tell me how I should feel about this." But I think Kanna was simply being descriptive of the language she and Sou were using. It's a fair assessment of their opposing argument styles.

Kanna argues that you should vote for her by appealing to your sense of logic. She eloquently makes the case that Sou has proven himself invaluable to the team with his computer hacking skills. He came extremely close to finding an escape route just before the second Main Game began. With more time, he could find another one. If he dies, there is no one else in their party with his valuable skill set. She also effectively weaponizes her own helplessness by arguing that she is a "useless" child. She states that dying for the greater good "is the only thing she can do." What I love about Kanna's argument is how she twists Sou's own words against him, since Sou has been using coldhearted logical arguments since the beginning. She shows how much she's learned from him, and she's even able to outsmart him.

Sou argues that you should vote for him by appealing to your emotions. He furiously makes the case that he is the most hated member of the team and that you should give into your hatred of him. He says that the choice ought to be obvious based on your feelings. He calls Kanna stupid. He keeps shouting "Stop!" and "No!" He waves his arms in despair. He resorts to threats and exclaims that he will never forgive anyone who votes for Kanna. Sou's argument is compelling because we have never seen him so vulnerable before. Even with his strong will to live, he has an even more desperate will to save the little girl he's grown to care for. It's devastating to watch such a man break down. After losing his previous eloquence, he is forced to bare his soul and pray that that is enough.

However, even with all that in mind, you could still argue on a technicality that some of Kanna's statements are emotional while some of Sou's statements are logical. For example, when Kanna says that she is useless, this reflects her emotional state since she has low self-esteem. And when Sou starts threatening people, it's logical to take his threats seriously. 

But there's something deeper at work here than technicalities. There's still something at the core of their arguments that makes the choice to save Sou "logical" and Kanna "emotional."

At its core, this debate is about how to measure a human life's worth. Do you measure a human life based on how "useful" they are? Or do you recognize a person's worth based on their humanity alone? 

This is a choice between two worldviews, which the story calls "logical" and "emotional." 

In the logical worldview, you prioritize a person's usefulness over their humanity for the greater good. Also, you must be willing to use people like tools for the greater good.

In the emotional worldview, you refuse to reject anyone's humanity, even if it threatens the greater good. Also, you must accept that some moral causes are more important than survival. 

If you vote to save Sou, then Sara prioritizes the greater good; theoretically, the group can use Sou to escape. But being willing to use Sou this way rejects Sou's humanity, because we would be using his talents against his will. For Sou, escape is not worth the cost of Kanna's life. Sara also rejects her own humanity by treating both Sou and Kanna as objects instead of people. Kanna is discarded as a useless object, while Sou is kept as a potentially useful one. This is why Sara guiltily calls this "the worst possible choice" when she makes it. And it's why Sou seems to care more about revenge than survival in this route; there is no meaning in a world where we must sacrifice children.

If you vote to save Kanna, Sara does so knowing it may be harder for the group to escape without Sou's skills. But she embraces Sou's humanity by allowing him to follow his heart. She also strengthens her own humanity by refusing to cross a moral line. This is why Sou actually keeps his will to live in this route and mounts a desperate escape before his death. Because there's still meaning in a world where Kanna is allowed to live. He still dies, but with peace and purpose, and having repaid Sara for freeing his true heart.

In any case, you may still disagree with the semantics of "logic" and "emotion" to describe these worldviews, though they work for me personally. I have one more point to address.

Is it really logical to save someone who threatens you?

At this point, I'd like to talk about the most logical member of the group, the character who immediately votes to kill Kanna: Keiji Shinogi.

You, the Player, may believe that Sou will get his revenge if he lives, because it would make a compelling story. And Sara, a high-school student, may be reasonably afraid of Sou's threats, because Sou has tried to hurt her before. Even though the text doesn't portray Sara as being afraid of Sou in this moment, I understand why the Player would fear for Sara's life. In other words, a logical reason to kill Sou is because you don't believe you can control him. How do you force an adult man to behave?

Enter Keiji Shinogi, who doesn't hesitate. Keiji is stronger than Sou, and he's wicked smart. He's confident in his own abilities. And he understands vengeance better than anyone. He doesn't underestimate Sou, who has outwitted him before, but he decides to accept the risk. Like Sou, Keiji has a ruthless will. I believe that one reason Keiji voted first was because he wanted to assure everyone that "your friendly policeman" would keep Sou in line. So even though Sara doesn't act afraid of Sou in this moment, Keiji is there to calm any hypothetical fears the Player has. 

And Keiji commits to this role! In the beginning of Chapter 3, in the route where Kanna dies, the first thing Sou does is disturb the group peace. He puts on his "tough" mask and pretends that he never really cared about Kanna. In response, as everyone else is fidgeting nervously, Keiji laughs and calls out Sou on his bullshit. He eviscerates Sou emotionally, effectively putting Sou in his place and forcing him to be submissive, for now. It's Keiji's way of reminding Sou that they already know how weak he is, and Sou isn't going to get away with any tricks under Keiji's watch. Even if Sou's only "trick" in this case is to pretend he has any pride left.

From a storytelling perspective, I'm sure that these two will keep playing their power games, and Sou is likely to regain the upper-hand eventually. But from an in-universe perspective, Keiji looks like he knows exactly what he's doing in this scene, and Sou looks like a fool who better do what he's told. That is, if he doesn't want Keiji to skewer his heart in front of everyone again.

So where am I going with this?

My most generous interpretation of Keiji's vote is that he decided that Sou's life had value inasmuch as he could use Sou. After all, it's not like Keiji spared Sou out of compassion. Keiji just said that he hated Sou more than anyone he's ever known--and Keiji already killed someone else he hated. The harsher interpretation of Keiji's vote is that he fully expects Sou to die later due to his zero percent survival rate, which would make Kanna's presence technically more of a "threat" to Keiji's own survival. However, I prefer to think that Keiji was swayed by Kanna's brilliant defense of Sou's usefulness. That's because Keiji isn't a simple monster; he's a complex man who still wants to "serve and protect" the group...in his own way.

To follow in Keiji's footsteps and vote with "logic" means that Sara decides to trust Keiji's judgment. We know that Keiji is one of the smartest and strongest characters, in addition to being Sara's reliable ally. This is why I think it's still "logical" for Sara to save Sou in spite of his threats. Because Keiji is still there. 

Conclusion

That's why framing the choice as one between "logic" and "emotion" works for me. I see it as a choice between two worldviews, one in which people are valued for their usefulness, and the other in which people are valued for their humanity. 

I understand that the Player is going to have their own thoughts and feelings about this choice. Believe me, I was heartbroken too! I really wanted Sou to redeem himself and live. And I think Sara even feels the same way, since she pleads "Don't kill our ally!" when Safalin threatens Sou. It's still possible that Sou could redeem himself in the route where he lives, but I imagine it will be more important that the Player faces consequences for killing Kanna. But no matter what happens in Chapter 3, it doesn't change the fact that it looked possible in Chapter 2 for Sou's skillset to save everyone, and everyone was operating under that mindset.

I think that the writing in this game is stellar so I wanted to defend the story's framing. It surprised me to see folks who had reacted to it differently, but that's all part of the fun. It got me thinking about how interesting it is that the Player and Sara view things differently. It also got me thinking that what seems like a logical choice in the moment could feel like the wrong decision in hindsight.

Thanks for reading!

[lillotte17]

Tomorrow

Got hooked watching Word of Honor and Zhou Zishu's Sad Face Journeys in episodes 33-34 came for my life, so I wrote a little scene set after the whole Heroes Conference Thing. ...And then Wen KeXing showed up and just...*gestures vaguely* I don't know what happened here. XD

~

Zhou Zishu sits quietly beside the bed, watching Wen KeXing's sleeping face with an ache in his chest that has nothing to do with his failing body, and everything to do with the fact that he is about to die.

When his shidi had made a miraculous reappearance at the Heroes Conference, his first reaction was gut-wrenching surprise. It felt as though the ground had suddenly dissolved beneath his feet. His heart leaping so high in his throat that he forgot how to breathe. Dizzy with the overwhelming rush of joy and confusion. Uncertain whether to laugh or cry.

But once the shock had subsided, the anger had been hot on its heels. And he wanted to be mad about it. Wanted to take Wen KeXing by the shoulders and shake him so hard that his teeth rattled around in his skull. Wanted to scream and sob and rail against the now inevitably fast-burning candle of his fate. At the unfairness of losing his life just as he had found something worth living for again. Someoneworth living for. For a few moments, the fury had burned so brightly in him he thought it might be enough to kill him then and there. That the fire between his lungs would simply burst his chest open and engulf everything around them in a sea of red.

But when they had caught each other’s gaze, he had seen the apology roiling in Wen KeXing’s dark eyes, raw and miserable, even without a word being said. The apology, and the fear. That same fear Zishu had seen flicker across his face every time he had tried to coax him into confessing that he was from Ghost Valley. The same fear he had seen in him the night Wen KeXing had snuck out of the Four Seasons Manor to intercept Ye BaiYi and tried to prevent him from reveling his identity. And yet again, when Han Ying had died, and he had nearly killed himself in a blind panic trying to fix it somehow. The fear whispered that death was preferable to his hatred. That his blade would be kinder than his revulsion. That Wen KeXing would sacrifice anything to avoid being abandoned once again.

Zhou Zishu was helpless in the face of it; as he always seems to be. The look that passed between them had been fast and fleeting, there and gone again with barely a blink, but it was enough to douse the flames of his anger with a tide of chilling and fathomless grief. The rest of the Heroes Conference passed before him in a daze. Vengeance, and justice, and pride. Wen KeXing blazing in the brightest and truest version of himself for all to see. Dazzling and mesmerizing and impossible to look away from. He does not know if he has ever loved him more, even as he felt his heart slowly sinking down into the pit of his stomach. The numbness of acceptance settling into his bones.

There will be no escape from death, this time.

He had been quiet on the way back to Jing BeiYuan’s Manor. Quiet enough to worry both Wen KeXing and ChengLing, who always seems to see more than he understands. He had listened to their reasons and excuses, and he had done his best to reassure them afterwards, but his own words sound hollow in his ears. The best he could do was to get Lao Wen hopelessly drunk, and pray that it made him less intuitive. The suffusion of elation and hope in the air had nearly been enough to choke him, though. He did not want to rob them of it, but he found he could take part in it either, no matter how much he wanted to. He could not bring himself to celebrate a future he can no longer share with them.

Zhou Zishu understands Wen KeXing. He understands that he is just as abysmal at properly conveying affection as he is himself, if not more so. The man only knows how to protect people he cares for by either sending them away from him or drowning them both in blood. It is how he had managed to survive all those years surrounded by madness and chaos and death. Zishu had done much the same, while he was working in the capital. Hiding all of their softer places far away from where the light could reach them. Playful banter has always passed easily between them, but tenderness is heavier, and vulnerabilities almost impossible to speak aloud. They are both trying to do better, struggling to pull their own humanity back into their hands where it can be shared freely, but Wen KeXing’s hurts are older and deeper. His path back to the world of the living inevitably more winding and complex. He still has not mastered the art of articulating his fears and concerns.

Zhou Zishu’s health was tenuous even before he had been kidnapped and tortured. As much as he hated to admit it, he had been in no fit state to fight an angry mob. Wen KeXing hid the truth from him because he knew that he would chafe at being told to stay out of harm’s way; that they would have argued about it until he was either allowed to participate in the scheme or he was spitting blood and passing out on the floor. Zishu cannot even say that this assessment of his character was a bad one, but it still stung to be kept in the dark, and the hurt was lingering. And yet, however deep the barb of this secret may have landed, however misplaced the caution may or may not have been, he knows without a shred of doubt that Wen KeXing’s deception was born of love, and he can hardly hold that against him.

Especially not now.

Wen KeXing turns his head slightly, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like an extremely slurred version of his name. His expression is smooth and peaceful, his hair a dark fan across the bed behind him. The rosy glow of happiness and alcohol still pinking the apples of his cheeks.

Zishu smiles despite himself. It is much easier to find traces of the little boy his master had planned to take for his second disciple when he looks like this; safe and sleeping and completely at ease for the first time in who knows how long. He wishes he could recall those few precious days they had spent together as children with more clarity, but the memory of it is like a silk brocade left to sit too long in the sunshine, its delicate patterns fading as the colors wash away in a flood of light. Zhou Zishu had been too young to fully comprehend the weight of death when his master had returned from his trip to collect the Wen family without his shidi or his parents in tow. That his master had been sad about it was enough to impact him, but in the grand scheme of things, the wounds to his own heart had been minimal.

What would have happened if they had kept looking for Zhen Yan, he wonders. If he and Wen KeXing had grown up together as best friends and martial brothers and soulmates? Would their master have found a way to soothe Zhen Yan’s rage before it consumed him? Would Zhou Zishu have made the same mistakes with the Window of Heaven if Wen KeXing had been at his side? Perhaps they could have saved each other before things had reached the place they were now. Or perhaps Wen KeXing would have died under Zhou Zishu’s leadership with the rest of their sect, and his failures would have tasted that much more bitter.

He sighs quietly. There is no sense dwelling on things he cannot change. He had been a child, and just as powerless to save Wen KeXing from his fate as the boy himself had been. Feeling guilty about it was meaningless at this point. It was enough to have him here and now. Enough that they had had any time together at all. Enough that Wen KeXing had fallen off of that cliff and somehow still managed to walk back to him.

It has to be enough, because it is all they have. All they can have. Even if he wants more.

“Ah Xu?”

The voice is thick with sleep, but marginally less inebriated than before.

“Mn,” Zhou Zishu hums in acknowledgement, his gaze shifting slightly to watch Wen KeXing blink himself back into wakefulness.

“You didn’t go to bed?” he asks, bleary and swaying slightly as he attempts to sit up.

“There is someone in my bed.” Zishu points out archly.

Wen KeXing looks murderous for a few seconds until he realizes that the person in question is, in fact, himself. When the clouds break, his expression immediately shifts to one of insufferable satisfaction. He leans precariously off the side of the bed, robes and hair both hopelessly askew.

“I am always willing to share everything I have with Ah Xu,” he declares with feigned sweetness.

“How kind of Philanthropist Wen to make a present of what he stole from me,” Zhou Zishu snorts, “Your generosity knows no bounds.”

“Ah Xu!” Wen KeXing objects. “How is it stealing when you gave it to me freely? You think I would come to your bedroom with the intention of sleeping?”

“I’m sure I don’t know anything about your intentions.” The reply is given with a smirk, but his eyes dart away from him. “You asked me to drink with you, but the jar you brought was empty. Besides, I am thinking about giving it up. I have been told that it is bad for my health.”

“Aiya, first Ah Xu accuses me of being a thief, and now he tells me such scandalous falsehoods!” Wen KeXing shakes his head, attempting to seem wounded despite the grin on his face. “I already accepted your punishment earlier, there is no reason to be cruel.”

“Who is a liar here?” Zhou Zishu inquires laughingly, gesturing back and forth between them. “Which one of us is the most scandalous?”

“It’s me, it’s me,” Wen KeXing acknowledges, his head bobbing up and down in agreement, “But Ah Xu, you cannot expect me to ever believe that you would willingly give up drinking good wine with me? And as for not understanding my intentions, well…I believe that even less.”

“Was your intention to make sure I could not get any sleep?”

Wen KeXing only smiles at him widely.

“…I regret asking such a question,” Zhou Zishu chuckles, reaching out to lightly slap the side of Wen KeXing’s face in both fondness and chastisement. “Ask a shameless man a question and you are sure to get a shameless reply.”

Wen KeXing grabs hold of his hand before he can pull it away, leaning into it with a sigh.

“What is so shameless about it at this point?” he wonders, something soft and shining igniting within his gaze. “Living together. Dying together. Watching as our hair turns gray with old age. We’ve already promised to share these things, haven’t we? Why give me your bed when we could share that, too?”

Zhou Zishu takes a long look at him. At the dark hair spilling across his shoulder in disarray. The front of his robes just rumpled enough to expose the elegant line of his throat as well as part of his collar bones. The flush of his cheeks and the promise burning in his eyes.

He cannot deny that he wants it. Even knowing it might make things more painful later on. He wants to be selfish. He wants to be greedy while he still can. While he can still hear Lao Wen calling for him and feel his skin beneath his hands. His sense of taste and smell have gone already, but can still see him, and that could be enough. More than enough.

But will it be enough for Wen KeXing?

This is the last thing they have to give each other. The last pieces of themselves they have been holding back. Mostly because there simply had not been time for it amidst the chaos swirling around them. It always seemed as though either their lives were in danger or one of them was injured. Up until now, even Zishu had been optimistic enough to assume they would have time for it later, though. Time to use physical intimacy as an almost second meeting. To learn how they need each other in the quiet and the dark. To learn the ways they can be gentle, and the ways they can be fierce. To burn each other up in desperation and desire.

It seems too heartless to have it be a farewell instead.

Zhou Zishu lets out a long breath.

“…Not when you are drunk,” he says quietly.

Wen KeXing blinks at him in astonishment, eyes blown wide and round as saucers, clearly expecting a flat-out rejection.

A moment later, the blankets have been hastily flung aside, and he is staggering off of the bed has fast as he can. Which, as it turns out, is not very fast at all. Zhou Zishu easily catches him with one arm, lightly pushing him back into a seated position.

“Lao Wen, where do you think you are going?” he laughs.

“I need to sober up,” Wen KeXing explains, looking so serious about it that Zhou Zishu cannot help but reach out and pinch his cheek. Lao Wen slaps his hand away, his expression mulish.

“Don’t pout,” Zishu scolds, still chuckling, “It is too late to be staggering around someone else’s house. With my luck, you would drown yourself in the fish pond, and then BeiYuan and Wu Xi would be terribly put out.”

“But Ah Xu, if you won’t let me leave, and you won’t share the bed, just what do you want me to do?” Lao Wen complains. “Even if you don’t want to have sex, you should at least lay down and rest properly. I want you to get well as soon as possible.”

Zhou Zishu’s mouth stiffens slightly.

“I know.”

Wen KeXing’s brow furrows in concern. He reaches out a hand, long fingers hovering just above his heart, when Zhou Zishu catches them tightly in his own. He is not certain if Lao Wen could glean the truth about his condition from his pulse while still tipsy, but he is not about to run that risk tonight.

“Are the nails bothering you again?” Wen KeXing asks, doleful this time.

“No.”

It is not a lie.

“Then come to bed,” Lao Wen cajoles, using their joined hands to tug him closer, “I promise not to molest you unless you ask me to.”

Zhou Zishu makes a sound of grumbling disbelief, but still allows himself to be pulled down next to Wen KeXing. The bed is big enough for two, but only just. Lao Wen retrieves the formerly discarded blankets from whatever corner he had toss them and bundles them up together like two caterpillars in a single cocoon. His face is close beside him on the pillow, warm breath fanning the side of his neck. An arm drapes loosely about Zishu’s waist, and he turns his head slightly, intending to shoot a warning glare in the other man’s direction.

This is a mistake.

Wen KeXing’s eyes are dark and intense in the moonlight, half closed with either sleep or desire, it is hard to say. His lips part slightly as Zhou Zishu turns to him, and the hand draped around his waist clutches faintly at his robes as if on instinct. Both of them seem to have forgotten how to breathe.

“…Ah Xu, you can kiss me, if you like,” Lao Wen whispers finally, so soft it almost seems like a dream.

“What makes you think I want to kiss you?” he means it to sound teasing, but it comes out in almost a sigh.

“Because I want to kiss you,” Lao Wen replies matter-of-factly.

“I never thought of you as a pillar of self-restraint,” Zhou Zishu huffs.

“I promised to be a gentleman.”

Zishu closes his eyes and lets out a deep, soul-rattling sigh. He is almost glad he cannot smell the oils Wen KeXing uses in his hair or the trace of alcohol on his lips. The proximity is staggering enough all on its own.

“…It would not stop with a kiss,” he admits aloud to both of them.

He does not open his eyes again, but he can feel Wen KeXing’s body tremble slightly as he laughs, and that is almost as bad.

“Ah Xu, I would hardly complain,” he replies, testing his luck by shifting close enough so that their foreheads are lightly touching. “But you want to rest, and I want you rested, so it is no great loss, either way. You will still be here with me tomorrow, after all. There is no need to rush these things. Sometimes, a slow spring is sweeter.”

“Yes,” Zhou Zishu manages to reply around the lump lodged in his throat, “I will still be here tomorrow.”

[heavenaintaniceplace]

so i found my mother’s copy of the jw (new world translation) bible and i decided to yoink that shit for disposal but not before i realized there is a lot of lines highlighted in the book from when she was being manipulated by the jw lady that convinced her to do “bible study” for years. and what do you know if the lines the lady had my mother highlight weren’t the same lines that jws use to justify their cult beliefs! all the lines are cherry picked, no actual study, just the lady manipulating and priming her to accept their beliefs by presenting so called “biblical proof.” so here is some of the things that stand out before i finally rip this thing to shreds and through it away.

literally the whole book replaces every instance of the tetagrammaton with “jehovah” because they want people to believe its been “removed from the bible thousands of times because they don’t want you to know the true name of god”. the whole thing is translated with an agenda to make them look right and everyone else wrong and to make people believe they have some secret hidden knowledge (they don’t they’re liars). putting this under a read more because its very long.

heavy TW for everything related ro religious trauma, the jehovah’s witnesses, bible passages and christianity. incredibly long post. i plan on burning the jehovah’s witness copy of the bible, no joke.

the imago dei part of genesis to try and convince her that humans were super special to god

genesis chapter 3, the serpent convincing eve to eat the fruit of knowledge so that she would accept their version of the original sin doctrine and that women are cursed

chapter where cain kills abel to convince her that this was the first murder in human history (obviously incorrect)

highlighted the part where god kills everything on earth with a flood to groom her into expecting god to do it again later and seen as fair and just and part where god “gives” noah every living creature (because fuck other organisms apparently)

part of leviticus where (in their version) theyre like “no soul must eat blood” (what the fuck) to justify not allowing life saving blood transfusions

deuteronomy part about “jehovah being one” to justify being non trinitarian (they don’t believe jesus is god or that the holy spirit is god, this is meant to lure people who are already christians away from their denoms and into theirs)

“thou shall not kill” is highlighted for some reason and i don’t know why

highlighted job 1:12 to emphasize that they believe satan is in control of the world because god allows it and job 26:7 that has a note saying “the earth hangs there” when talking about sheol to convince her of where earth is relative to “heaven” and using a bunch of “face of the waters” creationist language to make it vague as possible. job 27:5 to make her believe that “no one is righteous” and that saying so is sinful

part in psalms that assures that “wicked people will be no more if you just wait a little while longer” (this is the apocalypse imminent narrative they use to groom people with fear of dying or leaving but also to get them warmed up to the idea of mass death). “the righteous will inherit the earth and live forever” narrative so they believe that jws will live on earth forever after being resurrected while everyone else (whos not a jw) is killed by god

psalms 91 to drive home the fact that these people think theyre invincible in every meaning of the word, to natural disasters and disease etc

proverbs 6 part about “false witnesses”. jws believe that three jehovah’s witnesses have to be present to verify that a crime (like domestic or sexual abuse) actually happened or the governing body and elders don’t care. literally. the “false witness” narrative is used against survivors and people they want to silence in their organization and emphasizes how much jehovah hates “false witnesses” aka people brave enough to talk and victims

proverbs 12:18 about “wise and unwise tongues”, basically anyone that speaks out against the jws are “unwise” and harmful

proverbs 22 about raising children (”train up a child”, if you don’t know it already this is a child abuser dog whistle) that implies that indoctrination will last until adulthood if done right. this is especially bad because this copy is from the early 2000s when i was in kindergarten. this woman had been lurking on us since i was an infant.

proverbs 27 about how neighbors near is better than brothers far away. the implication here is that fundamentally family who aren’t jws don’t matter

ecclesiates 5. i genuinely think its warning people to not ask too much of god or risk his anger, thats the vibe im getting here because the wording is confusing as fuck

isiah 40:22 trying to hammer in the notion that god is greater than anything especially “worldly” governments (except the governing body ofc /s). isiah 43:10 the “you are my witnesses” to justify the name “jehovah’s witnesses” and shoehorn the idea in

daniel 2:40, the idea of an indescribable kingdom, the whole kingdoms in the “last days” conspiracy they use to convince people the “last days” are coming

matthew 4:8 where jesus is persuaded by satan by offering every kingdom on earth. the point in text is “don’t worship anyone except god” but the point of the jws is that nothing on earth actually matters

matthew 6:9 (nice), the our father, meant to make the reader to ask god to hasten the kingdom of god or as we ex-jws know hasten the apocalypse and the death of people they dont like

matthew 16:24, meant to convince people to leave everything behind and join the jws, “disown yourself” aka “die to yourself” toxic bullshit repackaged

matthew 19:9, to convince people that divorce even in instances of domestic abuse is wrong because the governing body won’t allow it and loves to control women

matthew 24:4-14, “anyone who doesnt speak for the jws is a false prophet” and warms people up to the notion that war is necessary; also that evidence of war is a sign of the “last days” and that this is supposed to be good news. ongoing war and the hope for global genocide is “good news” to them.

matthew 24:21. this one is meant to make people feel the apocalypse could happen at any time and to be afraid of it, a great war is coming and only the “chosen ones” (jehovah’s witnesses) will survive when everyone else dies. there’s a paper bookmark on this page. makes me wonder.

mark 8:34. the “die to yourself” bullshit, the idea that the cross was a “torture stake” because jws believe that wearing crosses is idolatry and they want other people to believe their quirky beliefs so they accept heavier things

matthew 10:28, “anyone who follows jehovah and jesus will literally live forever!” but also that “no one is prepared to leave their family for jesus and thats shameful because you should want to sacrifice your entire family!”

mark 11:24 “anything you pray for earnestly you get”. this is spiritual bypassing btw. and :25 “ask for forgiveness and be automatically forgiven no matter what you did” is also fucked

matthew 15-23: jesus (almost) gets wasted while being crucified etc, not sure why this one is highlighted unless im missing some jw bullshit here

luke 20:27. don’t understand this one but they’re threatening “heavier judgement” on people

john 5:28, promising resurrection through jesus after people die but only for the Good tm people (the jws)

john 6:15. how jesus is about to be arrested but goes to a mountain. dunno why this on is underlined

john 11:24. bringing home the same “jesus will save you from dying if youre a jw” bullshit. john 14:6 “jesus is the ONLY way ever! there can’t be anything else except jesus” indoctrination tailored to make you co-dependent. john 17:3, hook line and sinker of promising resurrection and “eternal life” again

john 17:15. here is the “we aren’t of the World tm” shit meant to make you feel outcast from everyone else who isnt a jw, setting up “the world” (everyone else) as other

acts 15:25. “follow the jw rules because the holy spirit you to”

romans 10:10, spread jw beliefs and witness as much as possible. romans 12:9 “hate everything jehovah hates so you’re not a hypocrite” basically means hate other people the jws don’t approve of

corinthians 6:9 (nice but not so nice this time) “anyone we don’t like won’t inherit the earth” translation: anyone we don’t like won’t survive the apocalypse thats definitely happening soon so always be afraid. “homosexuals” are changed to “men kept for unnatural purposes for this one.” still homophobic.

corinthians 7:6, the idea that everyone has a gift that needs to be exploited and used by the jws

corinthians 15:33. “don’t participate in any activities with any outsiders because it will lead you away from jehovah!! fun is ‘drunkenness’, you’ll loose your resurrection if you do!! non jw people are bad influences!!”

2 corinthians 7:1. your body and flesh is defiled, you need to be cleansed in order to be good

galatians 5:20. “having human emotions is sinful! struggling is sinful! being angry is sinful! having a bad day is sinful!” basically that being human is inherently wrong or something

ephesians  3:14. tries to make people believe everything is owed to god only and that obedience is good so they fall for cult power structures later. 4:28 here is just the top of the page being labeled “new personality” and thats all we need to know about indoctrination and cult personality vs actual personality. also “let not the sun set with you in a provoked state” being used against people still angry about being wronged and hurt by others and its been used against me a lot of times

ephesians 6:4. make sure the jw fathers provide the most discipline to children, literally uses the phrase “mental regulating of jehovah”. it couldn’t be more cult like at this point.

timothy 5:8 makes people believe that men alone are expected to provide and if they don’t they’re worse than “those without faith”. no pressure though!

timothy 6:19. wants people to neglect everything actually happening in favor of the “real life” (”eternal life”) instead and to constantly prepare for that instead of actually living life. dedicate your whole life to jw activities

titus 2. women need to be subjects to their husbands but also homemakers, live to glorify their husband, chaste and definitely not mentally ill or showing any symptoms. what the fuck is titus i never heard of this shit until today.

hebrews 1:7-14, trying to convince people that angels live to serve god but also has some superseccsionist/replacement theology (antisemitism) vibes going on

james 2:23, wants people to believe that god “putting people to the test” is actually a way to become “jehovah’s friend” and that being put to the test (read: suffering) is actually a good thing because it primes them to accept suffering as their fault later on. james 4:7 “everything evil will vanish if you rebuke it long enough!!”

peter 3:9 the “god’s timing is always right” gospel bs and encourages people not to do things themselves but to wait and also that jehovah will be on time when its time to start another global genocide. how encouraging! peter 3:13, the same “end of world near” scare tactic, “new heavens new earth” promise to eradicate everyone the jws dont like as that is jehvoah’s “promise” to the witnesses

1 john 3:8, their version of the original sin doctrine, the devil is the source of all evil scare tactic etc

short detour: every instance of “servant” is replaced with “slave�� in this version. it makes me feel ill.

revelations 7:16, wants people to believe that god will take away all their pain and that they won’t need food or water to survive anymore (bullshit). also the jehovah’s witness 144,000 chosen people bullshit is here too but not highlighted

revelations 12:7-13, a depiction fo michael drop kicking satan and the implication that satan has always been in charge and not god because they want people to believe that. also that the devil will fall to earth and try to eat jws

revalations 14-4: virgins get dibs on heaven and god i guess. i dont know what the fuck is going on. 14:6 an angel yelling fear god from above, probably where the jws get most of their apocalyptic imagery from that they use to scare children into believing they could die at any minute

so now that we finally got to the end of that mess, their version of revalations ends with jesus saying “yes, i am coming quickly” and “may the undeserved kindness of jesus christ be with the holy ones.”

joking aside, everything highlighted in this copy of this book has been used against me and my mother for years and is a huge part of the reason i have religious trauma now. everything she was told or encouraged to highlight aided jehovah’s witness indoctrination and propaganda, her own indoctrination and eventually mine which apparently started even earlier than i thought.

[ahgaseda]

pray | one

you are more than my existence, please listen to my prayer, hold me, tell me about myself, call my name so I can know who I am...

summary : everyone knows of the unspeakable evil that lives on the mountain, but you willingly sacrifice yourself to the demon named Jaebeom, as long as he takes you far away from the monster waiting for you at home.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, instances of blood and violence, graphic sexual content, black magic themes, potentially triggering elements that involve mentions of past child abuse, mental health, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

A demon lived in the shadow of the mountain. That was the legend you were always told. Each time as a restless child you wandered toward the woods, your mother - aware that scolding held little effect on you - would try to instill some sense of terror instead.

“The demon will catch you and drag you away,” she would say, voice a high shrill.

I wish he would, you often told yourself.

There were days you sat for hours on end, gazing into the darkness of the forest. You imagined wraiths and monsters and any other deadly creature that could devour you without consequence.

You wanted to be devoured. It was the closest to salvation from your father you would ever find.

It went without saying you had no friends. You were the strange little girl that would rather chase butterflies and climb trees, always lingering dangerously close to the forest’s border.

“She wants to dance with the demon,” other children would tease in a jeering song.

You paid them no mind. The woods enraptured you, beckoned you within her boughs. You would cup a hand to your mouth and send out a call, wordless notes that your soft voice would carry into the shadows. The woods would sigh, caressing you with wisps of wind that let you know your calls were heard.

Stamping your little bare feet, you would gather courage to enter. It was forbidden to enter the accursed forest, where black magic was known to breed. Though you considered yourself brave, you feared the punishments that would follow if you were caught. And for that reason alone, you returned home every time.

Not until you woke on a rainy day to find your mother gone were you finally driven to enter. Without her, there was no one to protect you. She had left you alone and defenseless with a man that drank away his sorrows. In your young mind, you didn’t blame her for saving herself, but you would resent her for it for the rest of your life.

Bare feet plodded across the fields. The kids threw rocks cruelly at you when you passed by, but you were much too fast. You heard their words, full of hatred and scorn, and kept running.

You reached the border, a small child staring into the gaping maw of the black forest. Survival pulsed through your veins. In that moment, you decided whatever lived inside the forest was far less dangerous than the man outside it.

“Please,” you whispered, hands clasped before you in prayer. “Grant me safe passage.”

Then, you stepped inside.

The first thing you noticed was the softness of the ground beneath your feet. The fields had been rough and coarse against your soles, but even now, something cooled your broken skin. You looked around in curious awe, the smallest rays of light piercing through the canopy overhead. When the mist hit the rays of light just right, little rainbows appeared in their wake.

You reached out, touching one of the trees. Dainty pink flowers grew from its bark, winding between your fingers. You giggled, marveling the buds and their tiny leaves. Birds alighted on every branch to chirp curiously at your presence.

Further in, you continued, turning in a circle as you walked, just to make sure you didn’t miss a single sight. It was like nothing you had ever seen or even dreamt of in your wild imagination.

Suddenly, the air cooled. The wind rushed. You rubbed your arms as your breath appeared like smoke. The birds disappeared into the heights of the trees.

You came to a stop, listening to the loud beating of wings. It sounded like a bird, a thousand fold.

The boy alighted before you, wings rustling at his shoulders.

You could hardly believe your eyes, mouth opening in shock. Surely before you stood a boy, no much older than yourself, but the similarities were few. Enormous black wings arched above his shoulders, still shifting as the boy levelled his gaze at you harshly.

“Why are you here?” he asked with impatience.

Your attention had landed on the dark curved horns sprouting from the top of his skull, then drifted to his skin. He wore no shirt, only trousers. You could imagine what a hassle pulling a shirt on over wings would be, but you moved your interest to the black ink in his flesh. He was covered in script from neck to fingers and everything in between, etched with a language you would never hope to understand.

“What are you?” you asked with a child’s naivety.

The boy tilted his head. “What do I look like?” he replied, almost menacingly.

The little fear you had promptly evaporated. Your lips parted in a wide grin and you giggled, exclaiming, “You’re a fairy!”

The boy’s brows stitched and the most incredulous frown took over his face. “A… fairy?” he exclaimed in disgust.

You raced forward, colliding into him and wrapping your arms around his bare waist. “I prayed to the woods for safe passage and she sent you to protect me!”

The boy grasped your arms and attempted to pry you off, adamant. “I’m not protecting you.”

“Of course, you are,” you said with glee, pulling your head back from his chest to peer up at his face. “The woods said so.”

Surly, he wrinkled his nose and barked, “I don’t listen to trees.”

You let your hands fall from his body, taking a step back. “Everyone knows there’s magic in this forest.”

Of all the creatures you expected to find, he was the last possibility. A child much like you, despite wings and horns and a host of tattoos in his skin. You marveled the script on his chest, but you knew it would be quite rude to ask for a translation at the moment.

“Dark magic,” he corrected sternly, striding forward and waving his hand. “Come with me.”

You watched him walk past you and didn’t hesitate to do as told. You followed the short-tempered boy back to the border, eyes on his long wings as you trodded behind him.

He pointed at the forest’s edge and cocked his head, clearly motioning for you to take your leave. “Now, go,” he snapped.

You turned sulky. “Can’t I stay a little longer?”

“No,” the boy replied without missing a beat.

You puffed up your cheeks and began to pout.

The winged boy furrowed his brow and asked, “What are you doing?”

You stomped your feet and grasped his wrist between your hands, tugging on his arm. “Let me stay!”

“You humans are strange,” he murmured under his breath.

You released his hand and broke into a sprint, breezing past him and toward the deep shadows of the forest. The boy rolled his eyes at your attempt of escaping him.

You didn’t get far and you gasped aloud when the boy appeared from overhead and landed squarely in front of you. It was hard to stop considering how fast you were going and you smacked against his hard chest, falling backwards onto the ground with a thud.

“Clumsy things,” he sighed, pretending to brush dirt from his shoulder.

You got to your feet, dusting off your legs, and looked up at him with amusement. “What is your name?”

“Jaebeom,” he replied, surprised at himself for being so forthcoming.

You gave him your name, though he did not ask for it.

“Mm,” was all Jaebeom said. Then, he turned and proceeded to walk away.

You trailed behind him and surveyed his wings again, finding them astounding in every aspect of the word. “How far can you fly?”

“Far.”

“How high?” you pressed.

“High.”

You scowled at him, finally getting irritated at his curt replies, and asked, “You don’t have many friends, do you?”

Jaebeom blinked, turning to you confusedly. As if your question had completely thrown him off balance.

“You seem like you don’t know how to have a conversation,” you explained, softening at his expression.

“There’s never been a need,” he replied sadly.

Your heart ached at that. It was a feeling you knew all too well. “I can be your friend, if you like,” you offered sweetly. “Your first friend!” At that, you extended your arm.

Jaebeom glanced down at your outstretched hand, clearly unimpressed.

You smiled with delight when he finally shook your hand. Even among his kind, the gesture was recognized.

Jaebeom shrugged, hiding his interest. “What do friends do?”

“Well,” you began, moving to his side as he continued to walk between the trees. “We talk and play and tell each other stories. We ask about each other’s day and…”

By the time night fell, you managed to draw the faintest of smiles from Jaebeom. And there was no way in hell you weren’t going to bring loud attention to it.

Pointing at his face, you exclaimed, “You smiled!”

He gawked and quickly deadpanned, “I did not.”

“I made you smile!”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes and deflected, “I’m only smiling because it’s nighttime now and that means it’s finally time for you to leave.”

You chuckled at his dryness, knowing by the aforementioned smile he had grown to enjoy your company. “Next time I’ll make you laugh,” you told him with a mischievous grin. “Just you wait and see.”

Jaebeom, who had been looking down at his feet pensively, reared his head up in surprise. “Next time?”

“Bye, Jaebeom-ie,” you called with a wave, stepping through the opening in the forest’s edge. “Thank you for making me forget how sad I was.”

Jaebeom’s face softened and his eyes burned with the threat of tears. “You were sad?”

But you had already run far enough not to hear him. Your heart was swelling, feeling joy for the first time in such a long time. This day, a day you swore would be the worst in your life, had become the best because of a winged boy named Jaebeom.

Jaebeom felt an ache in his chest. For the hours you spent with him inside the woods, you had been sad and yet you spent all of your energy simply trying to get a smile out of him. Jaebeom wanted to find whatever - or whoever - had made you sad and remove them from the face of the earth forever.

“Until next time, cheonsa,” he spoke softly before turning back to the dark loneliness of the forest and vanishing inside.

You could barely sleep. You thought endlessly of your new friend - your only friend. You told no one about him. Not that you had anyone you would want to tell.

Slipping into the woods became your happiness. You spent any possible hour hidden away among the trees. Jaebeom always sensed your return, as if the forest eagerly told him, and would join you within seconds of your entering. After a few months, you began to assume he waited near the border for you.

Together, you and Jaebeom grew from clumsy children to blossoming teenagers. Jaebeom was the first to notice the change. Suddenly, he was nervous to rough and tumble with you as he usually did. You were quite disappointed at not wrestling in the mud with him anymore, but to him, it seemed overnight you began smelling too good.

Though Jaebeom always playfully teased you, soon he was too awkward to do so. And you noticed how you began to win most of the rounds of verbal sparring. As you grew, your body changed shape. Feminine curves reminded Jaebeom you were becoming a woman and he was becoming a man.

Teasing turned to flirtation, which was dangerous. Jaebeom could tell you were receptive to his little touches and his occasional hungry remarks. He rebuked himself for not being more careful, for letting friendship drift too close to romance. Sadly, Jaebeom knew he could no longer prolong the inevitable.

On the morn of your seventeenth birthday, you escaped into the forest like any other day.

As you stepped inside her borders, you rubbed at tears with a rough hand. It had been torture at home. You were facing a fate worse than death in your eyes. Careful to never let Jaebeom see you cry, you dabbed at your wet cheeks with the sleeves of your dress.

Little did you know, Jaebeom perched in the tree above. His blood boiled. Someone had hurt you and on your birthday no less. He was angry, but stifled the rage for your sake.

Jaebeom descended before you as he always did. After years in his company, you never gasped in surprise when he landed just shy of you.

Flashing a smile, you greeted, “Good morning.”

“Is it?” he questioned, never giving an inch.

You shifted nervously and watched him move closer. “I’m a woman now,” you finally spoke, fighting back tears. “They have discussed selling me to a princeling or a lord. Some nonsense about me being beautiful.”

“Total nonsense,” Jaebeom retorted, trying to make you smile. Though the news made all the blood drain from his face.

“It’s strange,” you mulled softly. “Being sold like a broodmare. I’ve never felt more like an animal than I do today.”

Jaebeom grit his teeth. Fire licked across his skin.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, your voice trembled, “My aunt told me today that the first few times will be unpleasant. More than likely, the man who buys my hand in marriage will not care about my comfort.”

Jaebeom wanted to snap any man in half that hurt you and he snarled, “Why are we talking about this?”

“Oh,” you said, flushing with embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry. I was… thinking out loud, I suppose.”

Jaebeom regretted the harshness of his words. Clearly you were scared and he could do nothing to comfort you.

You spent the day with your only friend in somber, peaceful quiet. Jaebeom took you to all of your favorite places. The river to feed the koi, with their glistening scales of every shade of every color amongst the lily pads. The winding trees to see the newly hatched crop of vibrant parrots followed.

Even the rare red stag came to greet you, allowing your hand to touch his snout. You were hard pressed to find a creature as beautiful. You always gaped at him in awe.

Jaebeom’s eyes were on you, never wavering. He knew you would assume the visits to your favorite reaches of the forest would be in celebration of your birthday. Not in a final farewell.

He was letting you say goodbye.

When the sun began to set, Jaebeom led you to the border. You almost made him drag you.

“I… have a present for you,” Jaebeom finally said, rifling in his back pocket.

“Jaebeom,” you sighed. “I told you that wasn’t necessary.”

“Well, you told me that after I started making it so…,” he countered in feigned scolding. “I didn’t want it to go to waste. That’s all.”

You snickered. He was always deflecting and you expected nothing less.

Jaebeom wasn’t the only one who had noticed the changes in your bodies. You were well aware of the broad expanse of his chest, the bulging muscles of his arms, and the chiseled lines of his stomach. There were many times you had to resist the urge to slip into his arms. You wanted to feel the heat of his body against yours. It was maddening; the warmth that emanated from him.

Jaebeom finally handed you the tiny box, snapping you from your reverie.

Your heart fluttered. Tears pricked at your eyes before you had even opened it. Lowering your head bashfully, you whispered, “I can’t remember the last time someone gave me a gift.”

That wounded him deeply, though his expression stayed neutral. “Happy birthday, cheonsa,” was all Jaebeom said.

You could hardly believe your eyes as they blurred with tears. Inside the box was a ring. The dark stone was held by gleaming silver, small strands twisting like the roots of trees to hold the gem securely in its center.

“Jae…,” you breathed, lost for words. “It’s…”

“It’s a black diamond,” he explained anxiously. “They are supposedly very rare. Like you.”

You pulled the ring from the box, slipping it on your finger slowly. Were you even worthy to wear something of such value?

“You don’t like it,” Jaebeom groaned at your silence. “I should have known it was too dark. I can try to find something else.”

“Stop,” you replied, peering up at him as the tears escaped and rolled down your cheeks. “It’s beautiful.”

He was thrown by your emotion. “You’re sure?”

You wiggled your fingers, staring at the gift with affection, and whispered, “Never in my life have I seen something so beautiful.”

“I have,” Jaebeom blurted, immediately biting his tongue.

The admission was lost on you. “Thank you.”

He smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“I will cherish it forever.”

Jaebeom held up a finger. “One last present.”

“Jaebeom,” you started.

Before you could argue, Jaebeom swooped you in his arms and beat his great wings. You cried out in surprise, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you were carried higher and higher into the air.

The trees hummed, branches moving from his path as Jaebeom ascended even further. He had never flown with you before. Jaebeom knew he would have to be full grown before he could carry another person with his wings. Now, he was at the cusp of adulthood and to him, this would be his only chance to let you feel flight.

The two of you appeared in the canopy. You clinged to Jaebeom desperately, panting hard on his neck.

“Open your eyes, silly girl,” he teased, coming to sit at the summit of a tree and holding you securely in his lap.

You listened to the familiar sound of his wings relaxing, folding to his back dutifully. The air wisped past your ears and tasted crisp on your tongue. You had never been this high in your life, no matter how many trees you climbed in your youth.

Opening your eyes, fresh tears streamed down your cheeks.

The forest continued for miles and miles, stretching past what your vision could see. The horizon was endless. But at the center of your gaze was the ever-looming mountain. Its heights were hidden in the clouds.

“I never knew,” you stammered. “It’s such a big world.”

Jaebeom chuckled, his eyes on your face filled with such wonder. The sun’s rays reflected in your glistening eyes. Jaebeom knew in that moment he was hopelessly enamored.

You would never know the pain he endured for your sake. He could not survive in the sun. Even as he held you while the sunset splashed the sky with her colors, the sun punished him. The ink scrawled across his skin burned.

But he swore it was worth it to see the sky painted in your eyes.

You heard your name on his tongue and turned to meet his gaze, surprised above everything else when his lips touched yours.

Jaebeom had kissed you before, but nothing like this. Yes, his lips had graced your cheek or the corner of your mouth, and many times you pressed your lips to his brow or nose in playful flirting.

Nothing like this.

The surprise faded and you let your eyes flutter closed. Less afraid, you released your vice grip on his shoulders and slid your fingers into his dark hair, deepening the kiss.

Jaebeom lit a fire inside your soul, coaxing it to the surface with his heated kisses. You moaned softly at the push and pull of his hands kneading your back. The sound brought Jaebeom back to reality and without warning, he fell backwards, tumbling back through the canopy with you in his arms.

You yelled at first, terrified at the sensation of free-falling, but quieting when you remembered the man who held you could fly. His wings unraveled and punished the air with powerful beats, allowing Jaebeom to alight on a branch.

Jaebeom kept his hands on your waist, letting you regain your balance, and grunted when you melded your lips back on his. You tugged on his hair, hungry for the fire he made race through your veins. Jaebeom smirked darkly against your mouth, flicking his tongue between your lips.

Then, he remembered what he had to do.

When Jaebeom broke away, you swayed where you stood, steadied only by his rough hands around your waist, coaxing up and down your lower back. Had you known kissing was such a rush, you would have kissed him a long time ago.

Your eyes met and you giggled, bashful. Jaebeom lowered his head, hiding a smug grin, hair falling in his face.

“Please,” you sighed breathlessly. “Keep kissing me.”

Without another word, Jaebeom stepped from the branch with you in his clutches, using a single beat from his wings to land gracefully on the ground. His eyes burned into yours and the forest suddenly felt undeniably warmer.

Jaebeom lay you on a soft bed of grass, propping himself over you and kissing you tenderly. You were aware of his body on yours, how he had made himself comfortable between your thighs.

And you were content to kiss him for an eternity.

The playful teasing was long gone. The air was thicker. This was a mood you had never felt. This was intimacy, raw and unbridled. You were in the arms of the boy you loved and the only person you trusted.

With your fingers tangled in his long hair, you kept him trapped to you, humming softly at his lips melding with yours. You slipped your hands down his chest, tracing your nails over the endless ink scribbled expertly in his skin, and moved to grip his shoulders. Your touch wandered closer to his wings, feeling where the joints connected to his back.

The moment you touched their bases, the wings came alive at your touch, fanning and stretching overhead and rustling with excitement. You suddenly felt that no one had ever touched Jaebeom’s wings and the act itself was considered an intimate one. Jaebeom kissed you even harder, darting out his tongue to rub along your lip.

Jaebeom palmed your breast and your breath hitched. He broke the kiss to look into your eyes, assuring himself you were alright with his touch. You didn’t hesitate to grab his hand, steering it lower to the hem of your blouse and guiding him underneath to your bare skin.

You moaned softly when his hand settled on your naked breast. Jaebeom kneaded and caressed, rubbing his thumb over your nipple. His lips broke from yours and brushed over your jaw. When you felt his mouth on your neck, you arched into his touch and locked your ankles behind his back.

Something was happening between your legs - a tugging ache you had never felt before.

“Jaebeom,” you sighed, squirming beneath him. His kisses on your neck were making you crazy, filled with a need completely new to you.

You succumbed to the way he made your pulse race, undulating beneath him and roaming your hands restlessly across his body. His skin felt hot, scalding against your fingertips, like he was burning alive and you were to blame.

“I, um,” you hesitated, clearing your throat. “What if we…”

Jaebeom sucked beneath your ear and hummed, “Hm?”

You blinked, heart thundering against your ribs. “Can I give myself to you?”

Jaebeom’s eyes flickered at the thought, but his voice was firm against your neck. “No.”

Your heart sank, surprise sharply fading into disappointment. “But if I do, then they can’t sell it.”

Jaebeom met your gaze, nuzzling your nose with his own, and spoke sadly, “I can’t.”

You peered up at him through the haze, through the warmth the two of you had begun to make together. Questions and pleas raced through your mind, but all you could bring yourself to ask was, “Why?”

“It’s different for my kind,” Jaebeom explained, pupils dilated wide. “It means more to us.”

That stung and you did nothing to hide it. Lips trembling, you cried, “And it means nothing to me?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jaebeom said hurriedly, shaking his head and causing more hair to stray into his face.

You looked away, resisting the overwhelming urge to cry. You weren’t worthy of him. He didn’t say it, but that was how you felt.

Jaebeom felt you unhook your ankles and let your legs slip from his hips, and he knew he had made a mistake. He never was good at wording things properly.

He gazed down at you with longing, realizing the position he was in; you on your back beneath him, him laying between your thighs. Heaven knew he wanted you more than anything. He had never desired another person before in his life. Only you, for as long as he could remember.

But he couldn’t make love to you. If he did, he would belong to you forever.

Jaebeom sat up, lifting you with him. You pulled away from him once on steady footing and Jaebeom rubbed his thumb across your bottom lip. You lowered your head, nervous.

“I’m sorry, cheonsa,” he whispered. Jaebeom wanted to fall to his knees and beg your forgiveness. Here he was, desiring nothing more than to destroy any man who hurt you and yet he had cut you deep.

“Don’t be sorry,” you quickly told him, putting on a brave face. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Jaebeom knew that was a lie, but he didn’t challenge you. He cocked his head toward the border and you gave him a nod, dragging your feet as you followed.

Heading toward the forest edge, you turned back to him and asked, “See you tomorrow?”

Jaebeom grit his teeth, pushing down the surge of emotions threatening to crush him. “No.”

You blinked in surprise.

“Don’t come back here again unless you plan to stay.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Your heart vanished somewhere in your stomach. “What? Why?” you exclaimed. This had to have been nothing more than a cruel joke.

“When I reach full maturity, I have to take a bride,” said Jaebeom, avoiding your eyes.

“Jaebeom, you will never reach maturity,” you teased, trying to alleviate the sudden tension with humor.

Jaebeom tightened his hands into fists and forced the words out, “I’m serious. And if you’re the one that comes, then I will have no choice but to take you.”

You stepped away from the path, rounding on him squarely. Only a moment ago, you had willingly offered yourself to him. You had never felt so bemused and out of place. “Why is that a bad thing?”

“Because you deserve more,” he murmured, pained. “You deserve a life in the light. Not trapped in my darkness or my curse.”

Your face tensed with oncoming tears when you realized what all of this meant. You were being cast out from the woods and Jaebeom had not taken you, because he was saving himself for someone else. “I would rather be trapped in your curse than mine,” you countered, resistant.

Jaebeom shook his head and huffed, “He’s not a curse. You can escape him. Make a life for yourself. The simple life you’ve always wanted.”

Your lips trembled and you felt yourself breaking when you said, “With a man that hurts me?”

Your voice almost made him come undone. Jaebeom had sworn never to disappoint you. For years he wondered if you would be the one he chose to take when the time came, but after seeing you beneath the sun, he knew he couldn’t condemn you to an eternity in the shadows.

“Don’t try to change my mind,” he snapped.

You bristled with anger and shot back, “Why not? You want me to make a life for myself. Well, the life I want is with you.”

Jaebeom threw up his hands and angled away, resolve crumbling. “You don’t even understand what that means,” he shouted bitterly.

You had never confessed your feelings to him. Jaebeom was a vault, but you could feel him slipping away from you forever. “I understand that I love…,” you began shakily.

Jaebeom was on you then, covering your mouth with his hand. His eyes were scalding, filled with tears. “Don’t say it. You have no idea what I am and what I will become. You have always seen me as something good and kind, but I’m not. I’m far from it.”

You pulled his hand away, showing him no fear with how he had backed you against a tree, and said, “You’re a demon.”

Jaebeom blinked.

“I’ve known all along,” you told him. “My people tell tales of your kind. Demons live in the shadow of this mountain. It is why the forest is forbidden. Dark magic breeds here. The elders sing songs of the winged men that steal away the most beautiful of mortal women.”

Jaebeom backed away, surprised. “You knew?”

“Yes.”

Jaebeom’s face tensed with confusion. “And still you kept coming back here?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” you whispered, carding your fingers into his black hair. “I’m afraid of them.”

Jaebeom gathered you back in his arms and leaned his head against yours, eyes filled with tears. He was in physical agony. He couldn’t imagine being parted from your warmth for even a moment. All this time you knew what he was and yet you never feared him, never rebuked him for the monster that he was and would always be.

Then, he said, “Go.”

When his arms slipped from your body, you clutched him to you tighter and whimpered, “Jaebeom, you’re the only happiness in my life.”

“I mean it,” he hissed, spitting your name like venom. “Get out.”

You could do nothing when he pried you from him, pushing you backwards just enough to put distance between the two of you. The air turned cold. Winter had come in the fraction of a second. The forest seemed to shroud, cloaking itself in darkness.

“No, Jaebeom,” you shouted, planting your feet. “I know you love me.”

Jaebeom lowered his head, hiding his face and displaying his horns in aggression. Wings outstretched above him and the woods howled a piercing cry that made your blood run cold. He slightly lifted his hands, bold with ebony symbols and script, and thorns began to grow.

Rebellion filled you, but you were powerless. You wanted to defy him, but you staggered back, the darkness and thorns threatening to devour you. With one last look at the demon you loved, you turned and ran.

The shadow never stopped. It spilled over everything like ink. The thorns billowed and spread. You ran until you gasped for air, until your muscles ached. By the time you reached the edge of the forest, you landed on the grass with a thud, panting desperately for breath. The thorns swarmed between the trees, twisting and tangling with vines. You watched in horror as they finally stilled.

Rising to your feet, you approached the woods, placing your hand on the prickly stalks. There was no place for you to fit through. It was sealed away. Up and down you scurried along the border, looking for a weak spot. Even just a tiny place you could crawl inside.

There was none.

Tears fell down your face. You raked your hands through your hair, pulling the disheveled mess from your eyes, and screamed at the top of your lungs, “I hate you!”

The forest groaned.

You charged forward and pushed at branches, tore at the leaves. You clawed at whatever you could reach, trying to forge a path inside, and all the while you chanted bitterly, “I hate you! I hate you!”

Somewhere in the forest’s midst, Jaebeom crouched on the rough expanse of a branch, seated limply with his head hung low in shame. His wings lay at his side, lifeless and unmoving. The woods had never felt so cold then, so devoid of magic.

Your voice echoed. Those three words were a constant song in his ears, vowing to haunt him till the end of his days.

Not until the moon came to its full height overhead did you accept defeat. Dragging your feet home, you gazed at your bloodied, tattered hands. Wishing to avoid questions, you hurried to the nearest stream to wash yourself.

As you submerged your aching hands into the gentle waters, you heard the faintest of whispers in your ear. Unnerved, you stood sharply, looking around for who had spoken. Then, you cast your eyes down and gasped. Your hands had healed. Only small, faded scars were left in your flesh.

Smiling ever so softly, you turned to the looming forest in the distance. No matter what Jaebeom had said or done, the woods still loved you.

But still you cried yourself to sleep. You cried till you could shed no more tears. Slipping the ring from your finger, the only gift you had ever been given, you clutched it tightly in your fist and cradled your hands to your chest protectively.

For a moment, you had tasted magic and known what it was like to be safe and loved.

And as quickly as it came, it was taken away.

next chapter →

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[prolestariwrites]

The Wish [8]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now Posted: Chapter 8, in which Dante has to face the most intimidating creature of all... his wife.

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Chapter 8: Dante Sparda, Legendary Demon Hunter

Dante pulls up outside of Vergil’s house and turns off the car. They sit in silence for a long moment before he says, “Thanks again for what you did back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

His brother’s voice shakes a bit, but it seems like he’s holding onto control, even if it’s barely. Which is something at least. “It’s funny,” Dante jokes, “you’ve used Summoned Swords on me half a dozen times at least, and this might be the first time you used it to save me.”

“Summoned Swords,” Vergil murmurs. “Is that what that’s called?”

“It’s what you called it in my world. Although it’s a bit different there.”

Vergil nods, and silence settles again. Dante scratches his chin as he searches for what to say. “You know, Nero can do it too. Surprised the hell out of me the first time I saw it.”

“Nero.” Vergil turns his face to the window. “I should get inside.”

“Yeah. But, Verge…” Dante sighs as Vergil looks back at him. It is obvious his brother needs him now: he needs comfort, reassurance, something to help him process everything and come to terms with the truth. He needs wisdom. He needs tact and compassion.

Damn it all. “I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Dante says. “Then we’ll look for dad.”

“Yeah.”

Vergil reaches for the car door and Dante blurts out, “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll find him. And if any demons show up, you can use Yamato. You’re a better fighter than I am, so you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not a swordsman, Dante,” he grumbles. “I haven’t fought with anyone since we were children.”

“But you can. And Mary can too. She’s a way more successful demon hunter than I am.” Vergil frowns at him, but Dante continues, encouraged, “She kicked both our asses. She’s always got some demon on the run, knows how to use dozens of weapons and make her own even. And Nero? He’s got all kinds of crazy power. He was demon hunting before he even knew how.”

“Nero’s just a child.”

“Yeah, here he is, but in my time, he’s older, and I’ve seen him in action. Took down a whole evil god robot once.” Vergil huffs and shakes his head as Dante leans his elbow on the steering wheel. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to worry. You didn’t think you could fight but then you skewered that guy. So trust that they can handle themselves. And your V, Vitale? He’s not… I don’t know him, he’s not from where I’m from, but if he’s anything like you, then he’s got this too.”

Vergil glances at him briefly before nodding. Then he opens the car door and climbs out, and Dante watches as he hurries up the driveway to his front door, still clutching the sword.

Dante heaves a long sigh before starting the car again. On the drive to home, he wonders what he’s going to do about Lir. He’s still not entirely sure she’s not a demon too, so if he comes clean with her, there’s no telling she won’t attack him just like the bar waitress.

His questions are answered when he walks in the front door. “Dante? Dante!” Lir practically runs to greet him from the kitchen. “There you are! What happened? Are you okay?”

Before he can answer she pulls him into a hug, forcing him to bend over so she can press her cheek to his. “Dante,” she murmurs, and he feels a pang of guilt as he returns the hug. “I was so worried.”

“I’m okay.” He eases up and pushes her hair back from her face. “Why were you worried?”

“Your mom called all frantic. She said your father ran off and broke a window and in his study… there was…” Lir’s voice trails away as she examines his front, and Dante glances down. There are splatters of blood on his jacket and shirt, and he steps back as she gapes. “She said there was blood on the floor. What happened?”

Her eyes are wide with alarm as they rise to meet his. “Let me get cleaned up and I’ll explain.”

Dante eases past her and heads to the kitchen. Lir follows, hanging back in the doorway as he moves to the sink. He uses the minute to think as he runs his hands under the hot water, taking a few pumps of dish soap to clean the blood away. He shuts off the faucet and grabs a dish towel, drying them as he turns to face her.

He leans against the kitchen counter and swallows thickly. “Mom was upset, huh?”

“Very.” Lir takes a step closer before hesitating. “What happened?”

“We… fought. It’s fine,” he says hurriedly, holding up a palm as she opens her mouth. “My dad’s been keeping secrets and I confronted him. It didn’t go well.”

“Secrets?” she asks. “What kind of secrets?”

Dante folds his arms with a sigh. “He’s not who he says he is. He’s… something else.”

“Something else? What does that mean?”

“It means he’s not human.”

He waits for a long moment to let the news absorb. Lir stares at him with wide eyes, and he notices how her fingers tremble as she reaches out to brace against one of the chairs at the little breakfast table. “He’s not human,” she murmurs.

Dante nods and she tilts her head towards him. “And the blood?”

He glances down at his soiled shirt. “That was my mistake. Dad was lying and I wanted him to tell Vergil the truth. So I stabbed him with a sword.”

“You stabbed him?”

“Yeah. He was fine though. Got right up.” Dante chuckles. “Shoulda seen the look on his face. Serves the old man right. He kept refusing to come clean, and I—”

“Dante.” His mouth snaps shut as she sinks into the chair, looking pale. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“If it makes you feel any better, this isn’t all his blood.” Lir looks up sharply as he spreads his arms. “Vergil and I got a drink afterwards and got attacked by a couple of demons in the bar. Had to kill a waitress and all I had was a chair leg, if you can believe it. Luckily Vergil came through. Wasn’t that bad, he killed the bartender.”

“You killed a waitress?”

Dante winces. “Okay, it sounds really bad when you say it like that. But they were demons, I swear.” He starts to walk towards her, and Lir scrambles up, pressing back against the wall. The fear on her face makes him freeze, and he watches as her eyes start to tear up. “Hey, relax. Really. It’s gonna be fine.”

He takes another step and Lir launches herself across the kitchen, diving for the knife block. She pulls a long bread knife from its slot and spins, holding it out like a magic wand as if to ward him off. “Don’t come any closer!” she shrieks.

“Okay. Obviously I’m telling this story wrong.” Dante holds up his palms. “I’m not gonna hurt you. See?”

“You’re crazy!” she cries. “Demons? Killing?” He rolls his eyes and she shakes her head furiously. “Stay away from me!”

She steps to the side, keeping pressed against the counter, as she fishes her cell phone from her pocket. Dante frowns as she swipes it on. “What are you doing?”

“I’m calling the police.”

Her voice has an edge now, and Dante can see she’s a dangerous mixture of frightened and furious. “I’ll just go,” he suggests.

Lir shoots him a look to kill as she raises the phone to her ear. “Hello? Yes? Yes, I need the police, my husband—”

As she speaks, something catches Dante’s attention, like a pinprick on his neck. His head turns just as the ceiling explodes in a shower of drywall, the window shattering as something breaks through. Lir screams and he sees her drop the phone in the corner of his eye, and Dante steps between her and the two demons that now stand towering in their kitchen.

He looks up at the hole in the ceiling and grits his teeth when he sees the sky. “We have a fucking door you know,” he growls.

“Dante!”

Lir’s voice is wild with panic, and he holds out a hand. He curses silently, knowing her being here is going to just make this harder. It’s bad enough to fight a demon when a human is around, but now his instinct to protect her is screaming loud enough in his head to drown out any reason. He’s got to get her safe, and then he can deal with them.

“Lir, I want you to run.”

“What?”

“Get to the front door and run. Now!”

He doesn’t know if she obeys because at that moment they advance. Once again he tries to summon Rebellion, and again he realizes he’s left it in the damn car. Two sets of teeth and four sets of claws come for him with a screech, and then Dante is dodging, throwing one punch after another as he tries to make a plan. One of the demons picks up the toaster and throws it at him, making him duck. It sails over his head and implants into the wall behind him. “What the hell!”

One of the demons grabs his leg, pulling him to the ground. Dante lurches to the counter as he falls and grabs a drawer, yanking it free with one pull. He prays it has something he can use, but inside are dish towels. “Damn it,” he mutters, but he swings the drawer, which breaks with a spray of splinters as it hits one demon full on the face. It falls back and lets his leg go, and Dante scrambles to his feet, pulling open another cabinet.

This one has plates at least, so he grabs the stack and throws them one by one at the other demon. They explode in its face, the porcelain shattering loudly as it falls in pieces to the floor, but they disorient it enough that Dante can deliver a kick that sends it sailing across the kitchen. Before the two demons can recover, he lunges at the knife block, and with a steak knife in each hand, he quickly dispatches them both, slitting their heads open, both collapsing in a pool of dark blood.

Dante catches his breath and drops the two knives in the sink. When he turns, he finds Lir on the ground, her knees drawn up as she gapes at him.

“Lir…” he murmurs with a wince. They stare at each other for a long moment, and he takes in the pieces of drywall stuck in her hair, the way her shoulders shake, the bright flush on her face. But she’s alive, that’s all that matters. The rest of this shit he can explain, and fix, and make up to her.

Just then, there is the sound of someone talking, and they both look down at the phone on the ground. It looks like it takes a half minute for her to remember what it is, but then she jerks it up to her ear. “Hello? Hello, yes I’m here. No, no, everything’s fine.” Her eyes are wide as they take in the mess now that it’s settled, but her voice is steady. “I thought my husband was hurt, but he’s fine. A cabinet fell over in the kitchen, that was all the commotion. I’m so sorry.” She listens for a moment and then says, “Really, it’s not necessary. We’re fine.”

Dante takes a deep breath as she finishes the call, looking out the hole in the wall where the window used to be. He scans the darkness for any more demons, but his senses don’t pick anything else up. Lir says goodbye, and he glances over as she presses a finger to the screen before slowly setting the phone on the ground.

Their gazes connect, and he feels a twist in his chest as he sees tears swimming in her eyes. But then Lir scrambles towards him, and he catches her in a tight hug, her face pressed to his neck. Dante gives a small smile as he holds her closely, rubbing a soothing hand on her back as her breath shakes against his skin.

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“So that’s everything.” Dante looks over at the passenger side, where Lir stares straight ahead. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

Her eyes fall to where her hands sit in her lap. “So you’re not Dante? My husband?”

“I guess not,” he replies. “I mean, I’m Dante, but I don’t know if I’m him or if he’s me or if…” He rubs his face and glances at the clock on the dashboard which shows it’s nearly midnight. The gas station they had pulled into is deserted, and the light from the shelters over the pumps gives enough light that he can see the pained expression on her face. “Sorry. I keep saying the wrong thing. And uh, I guess I should apologize… for the other night—”

“No, it’s…” She glances over, almost shyly, and Dante’s heart skips a beat. “You’re still him, just not him him. I think.”

“Right.” He chuckles humorlessly with a half smile. “You hungry?”

Lir shakes her head. “Not really. I’m exhausted.”

“Let’s get some rest then.” He starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot, heading down the nearly empty street. After a few turns he finds a little motel, and Lir luckily doesn’t argue when he parks. She stops to grab the bag she had packed in haste before they fled the house as he heads into the office, emerging a minute later with a room key. “Funny, the guy didn’t blink twice even though I’m a mess,” he jokes.

Dante grabs Rebellion from the trunk, remembering this time, before he leads her to room six.  But he hesitates when he slides the key into the lock. “I guess I should have gotten two rooms?” he murmurs.

“No. I don’t want to be alone.” She presses her hand on his back lightly. “It’s fine.”

He nods as they enter, flicking on the lights as Lir follows inside. There is a Queen-sized bed in the middle, a television, a chair and table, and Lir shrugs off her jacket before opening the bag. She pulls out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, holding them out to him. “Do you want to get cleaned up?”

“Yeah.” Lir doesn’t look up at him as he takes the clothes, and not knowing what else to say, he heads into the bathroom.

His reflection is a mess, his hair sticky strands covered in blood and dirt. His face and neck aren’t much better, and as he strips off his clothes, he thinks about what he must have looked like arriving home like that. “This is why I never got married,” he mutters to himself as he turns on the faucet. “Too much trouble.”

His dialogue continues as he starts the shower and unwraps the little bar of free soap, listing the reasons why a relationship and marriage don’t mix with demon hunting: too much blood. Too much laundry. Too many questions. Weapons. Blood. Death.

He leans his forearm on the tile, watching as red swirls around the drain until the water goes clear. Stupid fucking wish, he thinks. This life he had always wanted? It’s not possible, and he needs to accept that and move on. He had no idea what he was asking for, Dante realizes.

It makes sense, really, he tells himself as he towels off. After all, Lady didn’t have anybody. Neither did Trish. Whoever Nero’s mother was, it couldn’t have lasted long before Vergil was gone, if his brother even knew he had a kid in the first place. Too much liability when you have someone in your life. He remembers Lir’s scream as the demons crashed into their home, the way the fear hit in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. But Nero has managed it, hasn’t he? He has Kyrie, and goes home to her every night, blood and guts and all. Dante frowns, wondering if it’s not meant to last. It would kill the kid to lose her.

Sparda, Vergil, him, now Nero… their whole family, one after another, losing someone close before disappearing too. Like some big cosmic joke.

Lir is curled up on the pillows, the lights off and the television on. She pulls back the covers when he climbs up to join her, and Dante smiles a bit when she repositions herself with her head on his chest and her arms tightly wrapped around him. “This okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Dante snorts. “Nah. It’s a crazy story, I know.”

“I pulled a knife on you.”

“Not the first time someone’s done that.”

Lir stiffens a bit before lifting her head. She looks at him sadly, but he grins. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You didn’t tell me who I am,” she says.

Dante glances away with a shrug. “I don’t know you in my time. We never met.”

“Oh.” She lays her head back down against his shoulder, and Dante settles his hand on her hip. “I’m glad we got to meet here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Dante listens as Lir’s breathing goes steady, her body sinking against him as she falls asleep. He stays awake, watching the light behind the curtain grow darker before slowly turning gray. By the time the sun comes up, his decision is made.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Creatures in the dark Part 2

Pairing: witch!Steve x Reader

Warning: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, allusion to non-con.

Words: 2454.

Summary: A monster dressed in human flesh was waiting for you in the woods.

Part 1

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That night neither your grandfather nor you returned to your beds. Despite being afraid of revealing your secret, you told him everything: about the Plague and your encounter with the dead and the boy with a lantern who you thought came to save you. Your grandfather, and old, but tough man, had cried upon hearing your story, and you cried too. You didn't remember him dropping a single tear when his wife or grandson had died, but now his face was all wet.

Once the first ray of sun reached your house through the crack in a wooden shutter, the old man rushed to the witch living in a hut at the end of the village while you stayed home, putting more ash to the door. You didn't know whether the monster lurking in the woods could walk in the daylight, but you didn't want to risk it. Maybe he wasn't as powerful as the Plague if her mark prevented him from casting a spell on you, yet he was obviously strong enough to tear a human being apart.

You had no idea how much time you spent there all alone, praying in the corner, but your grandfather returned with both the witch and one of the elders, all of them with grim expression on their dirty faces.

"Not good, not good." The old woman whose grey hair were covered with a bleak blue scarf told you, spinning around you and shaking her head. "Not good at all."

"What's not good, granny Iva?" You asked, calling her the same way you did when you were a little girl. "What do you see?"

"The blessing of the Rotten One does no harm to you, dearest child, but she gave it to you for a reason. The boy you saw was no boy at all. His scent is all over you." Her quiet raspy voice sounded like a thunder to you.

"We'll wash it off!" Your grandfather exclaimed in despair. "I'll bring water and wood to the bathhouse-"

"Silly man, no water can help you wash it off her." The elder said in return, stepping closer and looking at your forehead suspiciously. "What's already done can't be reversed now. Besides, if the Plague herself had told you it's your fate to meet the monster in the woods, we mortals can do little about it."

"But he'll take me away. He will drag me out of the house and eat me alive!"

"No, my dear. That horned monster doesn't eat human flesh. He came to claim you." The old witch whispered, taking the red like blood beads out of her pocket. "To wed you, whether you come willingly or not."

Horrified with the revelation, you felt hot tears falling down your cheeks, and your grandfather quickly embraced you, dropping a kiss to your forehead. Looking at the two angrily, he shouted, "I'll better die than give her to that creature."

"Whether you want it or not, there's not much we can help her with." The witch bit her dry, chapped lips. "My magic has never been as strong as his even when I was young and powerful. But I keep wondering why Plague had given you a blessing, yet asked you not to run from the monster. Why? What is the meaning behind her words? What strength did she grant you with her mark?"

"H-he said I wouldn't rot now." You muttered, leaning closer to the old man. "Nothing else. What other strength could it give me?"

The woman motioned to the elder, and he returned to the door, opening it a little. Before your grandfather had snapped at him furiously, the witch pointed at something on the floor. As you looked there, you saw nothing suspicious and furrowed your brows. What was there so special? As you turned your head to the woman to ask her, your grandfather suddenly gasped.

"Look! Your shadow!"

Carefully observing it again, you realized yours was much longer than shadows of others, though you were all standing close, and it couldn't possibly be the play of light. You gulped down and bit your tongue painfully. What was that all about? What was this power, if there was any at all?

You slowly moved your arm, and the shadow moved its own, following your command as it always did. Except for its length, there was nothing particularly strange.

"Ask it to move by itself."

"What do you mean? How do I ask for it?"

"Just make a wish, it's simple."

Your grandfather was pretty much terrified with witch's words, and for a moment you thought you had never seen him like that in your entire life. The elder, however, didn't look suprised even the slightest bit, and the old woman was almost eager to see what would happened next.

Chewing your lips to bits, you closed your eyes, scared and confused. The next moment you heard one more gasp, knowing that your shadow did exactly what you demanded it to - detach itself from you and move to the wall behind the witch. Dear God, she was right. The blessing gave you something you shouldn't have.

"I don't understand anything at all!" You exclaimed loudly, tearing yourself away from your grandfather and moving back, covering your face with your palms. "Why didn't she tell me about it? And why give me power if I can't escape the monster, anyway?"

"If you can't run... it doesn't mean you can't fight." The wise woman muttered under her breath, but all of you heard her, and you chocked on air. Fight? Fight this deadly creature wandering in the woods?

You asked the shadow to move to the other wall, and it did it again. Dear God, maybe the witch was right.

"Teach her!" You heard your grandfather's desperate voice and saw him gripping the witch's wrinkly arm. "Take whatever I have, but-"

The elder rolled his eyes at this outburst, shaking his head with irritation. "Are you out of your mind, old fool? We will do anything we can. I have not become the elder to watch young girls being snatched away by monsters."

"And now shut up, you two. We don't have much time before the boy comes back. Bring me the bread, the blackberry, and a few candles, now."

____________

It had been two long days before the witch sensed your monster was coming back. You barely slept, spending all your time listening and doing what granny Iva had told you, watching the miracles you could now do all by yourself. She was right, the Plague did grant you power, and though you barely knew what to do with it, even the possibility to fight the creature brought you so much joy.

The woman called him the witch boy. You found it odd: was he the son of some other witch living in the forest? Laughing at you, the elder pointed out the clear difference: granny Iva was a woman who learnt witchcraft, but the boy was the one who was born with magic coursing through his veins, able to see the ghosts and cast spells most humans couldn't. He was only half mortal, and he was probably born to an evil spirit and a human woman. Judging by the huge antlers growing from his head, he was most likely the son of Yeev, the evil deer living in the Northern forests. People used to make human sacrifices to him, bringing him women he apparently mated with. Granny Iva had never heard of him having any children, but maybe one of those poor sacrificial brides was able to bear Yeev a son.

You wouldn't be able to defeate the boy right away, you realized. Although the Plague had granted you power, it would take time to learn how to use it, and the monster would hardly wait for it. You would have to go with him and figure out how to defeat him all by yourself. However, your magic would be enough to keep him from harming you, and it was already something.

That night granny Iva had given your grandfather a sleeping potion secretly. He didn't know that you would still have to leave with the monster, and you couldn't bare watching the old man struggle against it. It was better to put him to sleep.

When the monster opened the door, you had already been prepared to leave and turned to face him, suddely seeing not the skinny boy, but a huge bearded man who barely fit into the door frame. The ash near the door burnt out the very same moment he stepped inside, blue sparks flying the air.

"Were you waiting for me?" He smiled, walking into the house, his body muscular and strong as if he were a blacksmith.

You gawked at him, unsure whether he was the monster you were waiting for. Where was that little boy with a lantern, unhealthy pale and terribly thin?

"Don't look so surprised, little one. I took this form because I thought you'd like it better." Crossing the room, he barely looked at the elderly man, snoring lightly in the corner, and moved closer to you as you backed away from him involuntarily. "Don't be so cold, love. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You pressed your lips into a thin line, looking displeased and clenching your fists. That monster dared to play with you.

"This isn't funny, boy. Why would I care what form you take?" You said, figthing the urge to grab a handful of blackberries your pockets were full with and force them down the creature's throat. "Just get it over with."

Looking at your grim face, he offered you to take his hand, watching you intently with those dark blue eyes of his, and you reached out to him, biting your lips. You had definitely built up some courage from the night you met him, you thought, as he drew you closer, touching your hair. Running his fingers through it, the boy - the man - smiled at you again and drew a little symbol on your forehead, watching you becoming more nervous. Tensed, you furrowed your brows.

"Let's go." You urged him, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the door. "I don't want my grandfather to wake up and see you taking me away."

The man hummed with content and went after you, closing the door once both of you were outside. Feeling the chill in the air, you rubbed your shoulder and looked back at the man with irritation. He was still smiling at you, and you didn't like it.

Turning away from him, you had placed a few blackberries into your mouth, trying not to smash it with your teeth, and then immediately closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your hands around his shoulders and pressing your mouth to his. The man had opened his lips as if he welcomed you. You felt uneasy when he took all the berries willingly. Apparently, he knew of granny Iva's witchcraft.

"You can give me more." He whispered, his short beard brushing against your gentle skin. "It will be more fun this way."

You growled in frustration at his insolence, grasping a handful of blackberries and showing them into his mouth. Taking them all obediently, the man forced your hand to his lips as he licked the dark juicy drops from your skin, slipping his tongue between your fingers. Your face was growing hot with every passing second, but his grip was too strong to push the monster away.

All of a sudden, the antlers on his head appeared again, surrounded by a halo of cold blue light. The magic was starting to show his true colors.

His mouth was dirty with a few berries that got smashed when you pressed your palm against his lips, and you felt an odd urge to lick the little dark spots in the corners of his mouth clean. Damn, he was using his own magic, too.

"Let's go." You grumbled and started to walk in the direction of the woods, not wanting to awake the villagers. The man laughed behind your back and took your hand, speading up.

The silence between you as you moved was unbearable, but you didn't utter a single word until you finally reached the forest, the mist spreading slowly in between the trees. Glancing at the man, you saw he was still in that new form and chew your own tongue. When he was small, it was so much easier to imagine how you would outpower him.

"Could you please turn into the boy again?" You demanded as he came closer - you tried to hide your fear beneath the irritation.

The man chuckled, "Are you saying you'll be more obedient if I stay like this?"

Reaching out to the pocket of your dress, you smashed a few berries in your palm, colouring your skin with the sweet juice, and drew a sign on your arm before the monster reacted. You felt the wind growing stronger as you smiled at him wickedly. If the Plague herself had given you her blessing, you wouldn't become a mere prey of the creature wandering in the woods. You were not a sacrificial lamb.

The man jumped at you the next moment, and you two rolled on the ground, fighting for dominance. Cursing and growling, you bited and kicked and pushed, feeling the creature's cold hands caressing your body through the clothes. No, you wouldn't let him take you like that. Not now, not ever. Gathering all your strength and covering your palm in smashed berry pulp, you grabbed one of the antlers, and the man moaned under you, his huge form slowly changing until you saw a skinny boy lying beneath you. Amazed, he stared at you and stroked your hips lovingly with his arms growing warmer, licking his lips.

"You are so pretty." The boy muttered, looking at you through his trembling lashes. "Kiss me. Please."

Although you wanted to get up, instead you leaned closer, dropping a kiss to his soft discoloured lips and brushing your nose against his. Inhaling his earthy smell, you moved away quickly, glaring at him. Damn it, his magic was still bending you to his will.

"Don't you understand I won't stop?" You grunted, squeezing his antler stronger and making the boy wince and moan again, sitting on top of him. "I will learn, and I will fight you. I'm not gonna be your obedient little girl, listening to your every whim."

"Fight me." The boy whispered, and you felt something hard rising beneath you, brushing against your thigh. "Charm me; curse me. Do whatever you want to me, love. Just stay close."

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @lovelydarkdaydream

[childofchrist1983]

When we reach a point of contentment, we are not moved by what another person does or does not have. Contentment prevents us from defining ourselves according to the world's values. We become content through God, in whom we know we have everything we need. Our eternal life and salvation being the most important of all.

May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Word daily, May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful Lord, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in the Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

Dear Father God Almighty, Lord Jesus, I thank you that I can be totally content in You. You have filled all the gaps and voids in my life. I know that I will never find contentment in this world; only in You and You alone. I pray that more and more of Your children and the people of this world will come to realize this too, O Lord.

You are Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End! We know Your promises are true and we place our hope in You! May we live our lives with a spirit of thankfulness and may we always magnify You, O Lord. Allow our praises to You encourage others to seek Your face. I forever thank you, O Lord, for sending Yourself to our world so that we who believe may be set free from the law of sin and death. So that we may become sons and daughters of the living God and enter Your eternal Kingdom of Heaven. Praise be Your holy and almighty name!

Lord Jesus, my Savior and King, thank you for what You did for me and for everyone else on this Earth. Thank you for this beautiful life I now have in You. Help us all work together. Forgive us and cleanse us of sin, so that we may join You one day in Your Heavenly Kingdom, our true home. Help us all to be humble and obedient to You. And help us to be courageous enough to seek You daily and to humbly and faithfully do our duty to You, spreading the truth of Your Gospel to all in all nations, as You commanded before You ascended back to Heaven (Mark 16:15-16). May our lives show the world Your light and Truth and that You are a loving God and Heavenly Father who delights in showing love and mercy. May we all be humbly and faithfully honored and excited to worship, glorify and serve You daily and to do Your will. You have been so good to us, far more than we as wretched sinners deserve. You are so good! So wonderful! Forever and always!

Thank you, Lord, for keeping me and helping me in times where I am tempted to go astray. Praise be to You today and every day of my life and let me never forget all of the blessings that are given me by You. As much as the enemy will try, he will never be able to successful breed doubt about who You are, in the minds of anyone who truly believes and follows You. And I will follow and serve You all the days of my life and beyond! Thank you for the connection with You that we are given through Your Holy Word and Spirit. Thank you, O Lord, for all Your creation and Your miraculous ways. Thank you for being our stronghold and my refuge. Thank you for seeing us as worth the sacrifice. Thank you for sustaining us, loving us and defining us according to Your will and love for us. Thank you for making sure we are taken care of. Thank you for being the best friend we could ever have! Thank you for Your endless mercy and love that has saved us. Thank you for always protecting us and providing for us and for Your Spirit to help us when we are in need. Thank you for abiding within me and may I abide with You, my Lord. Thank you for giving us a chance to be saved from our sin and spend eternity with You. Thank you for adopting us as part of Your family in Heaven and making us one of Your own. Thank you for being our present help in times of trouble (Psalm 46:1). Thank you for always being near and for loving us. Thank you for giving us a reason to love others and so many more reasons to love, praise, serve and follow You. Thank you for Your selfless and sinless sacrifice. Thank you for Your guidance and protection. Thank you for Your Truth and light. Thank you for Your wisdom and strength and grace. Thank you for giving life to the world and to us. You give and take away – And we thank you for it. Thank you for everything! Your will be done! Blessed be Your mighty name! To You and Your Kingdom be the glory forevermore! In Your name I humbly pray, Amen and amen

[phantoms-lair]

Ok, but Zuko's crew figuring it out after just a week or so and having had enough time to propperly convince him before finding Aang (because he might have seen reason but he's still stubborn and what else are they gonna do? Open a tea shop?) Zuko: *didn't think he'd get this far* 'THIS IS SO AWKWARD; WHAT DO I DO?!?!' Lt. Jee, who knows kids need other kids their age around them, seeing the Gaang: 'They're friend shaped!'

“Here we are, the Southern Air Temple.” “It looks amazing Aang,” Katara couldn’t help but be breathless at the sight. Even so she couldn’t help the feeling of trepidation. Aang was from a time of peace long past. No matter how much they told him otherwise, he wouldn’t truly understand what the Fire Nation was capable of till he saw t with his own eyes. And this was the place she feared it would happen.

Aang led them up a long and winding path, chattering excitedly about everything he knew about the place. “And that’s the field where we played Air Ball, and that’s where the air bison slept and-” he broke off, sadness filling his voice. “This place used to be so different. It was full of monks and life. Now there’s nothing here. I can’t believe how much things have changed.” “Maybe not.” Sokka was looking around with sharp eyes. “If this place was really abandoned, there should be all sorts of weeds and overgrowth.  But everything’s neatly kept. Someone’s been here, and a lot more recently than a hundred years ago,”

His voice was filled with dark suspicion, but it went right over Aang’s head. The last airbender perked up. “You’re right! Come on let’s find them!”  “Aang wait!” But it was too late. Aang had taken off on his air scooter, following the path as quickly as he could. He came to an abrupt stop, air dissipating, and stared at the two figures wearing blotchy grey clothes standing in front of him. One of them, a woman, dropped the bundle of sticks and weeds she was holding. The other, a man with sideburns whispered “An airbender...” under his breath. “Get Iroh, he’s meditating in the Avatar Chamber.” He then bowed deeply as the woman ran off. “Honored Monk, would you and your companions please join us for some tea. I know our leader would be honored to speak with you.”

Aang nodded, but he seemed a lot more subdued than before. They were led into a large room. Sokka kept one hand on his boomerang, just waiting to see if trouble would start. On the way they saw several more grey-clothed people staring at them in wonder.

“Iroh should be here shortly.” the man explained. “My name is Jee.” “Iroh’s the one in charge?” Katara asked. “Everyone but he himself would tell you so.” Jee had a half smile. “Iroh sees our little group as a collection of equals, but in times of crisis or question, we tend to turn to him or Zuko.”

“Who’s-” But before Sokka could finish asking who Zuko was (and for that matter who this group was) he was interrupted by heavy footsteps running towards the door and throwing it open. “Jee is it true?” An elderly man was panting, clearly not used to running like he was. “An airbender has returned?”

Jee nodded. “This good Monk and his friends just arrived at the temple.”

“Spirits be praised.” The mans face twisted as tears began to flow from his eyes. “That the balance might not be destroyed, it’s more than I dared hope.” Then he seemed to catch himself and dried his eyes. “Where are my manners. My name is Iroh, let me make you some tea.” “Thank you. I’m Aang, these are my friends Katara and Sokka.” Aang introduced. “But may I ask, please, how did people from the Fire Nation get here. I thought this temple could only be reached by flying bison.” “Fire Nation!” Sokka rose from his seat, grabbing his boomerang. Likewise Katara reached for the water Iroh was pouring into the teapot.

“Peace.” Iroh sad calmly. “No one here wishes any of you harm.”  “How can you say that?” Katara spat. “You’re Fire Nation!”

Iroh looked directly to Aang. “Will you hear our story, honored Monk?”

“I will.” Aang turned to his friends. “We can’t attack before we’ve heard them out.”

“Watch me.” But despite his words, Sokka made no move to attack.

Iroh poured more water in the kettle, to replace what Katara had taken. “I am curious myself, how you identified us so quickly.”

“You’re wearing ash-dyed clothes.” Aang explained. “That’s what Fire Nation people wear in mourning.”

“A custom no longer practiced, sadly. We have taken it for our own as we mourn the loss of so much in the world, and seek to save as much as we can. If we can call ourselves anything, we are Restorationists.” Iroh handed each of them and Jee a cup, before pouring one for himself.

“Our story began three years ago, in the Fire Lord’s war council. My nephew, Zuko, was about your age and had talked his way inside to observe and learn. Like all children of the Fire Nation he’d been raised to believe the Nation was perfect and the war just. And it was in this meeting those beliefs were destroyed.”

“A General suggested a plan that would end in the sacrifice of the youngest Fire Nation recruits in a gambit that would gain very little, for you see the Firelord cares as little for his own people as those of other nations. The War Room was usually divided into two factions. Those like the General who reveled in slaughter, and those like myself who knew there was nothing we could say to stop it. Except that day there was another.” “Zuko spoke out, loudly and passionately, about how wrong the plan was. He was told he’d have to fight an honor duel for his disrespect. Zuko was pleased to fight someone as dishonorable as the General. Only on the day of the duel, his opponent wasn’t the general, but his own father.”

Sokka drew in a hissing breath. “The Firelord made him fight his own father?”

Iroh took a long sip of tea. “He forced Zuko, yes. But it was not involuntary on both sides. My brother longed to be rid of his kind-hearted son, and saw the duel as an opportunity. But my nephew thwarted him.” Iroh smiled to himself. “He surrendered, refusing to harm his own father. As a result my brother couldn’t land a killing blow without being disgraced himself. Instead he scarred Zuko and had him banished in disgrace for his ‘cowardice’.” 

For the first time they heard anger in Iroh’s voice. “No child should have to learn so young that their Nation is disgraceful, that their family has no honor. It was a terrible lesson, and yet one he did learn. The Firelord gave him an impossible task in order to rescind his banishment, but it’s one Zuko has no interest in pursuing. Instead he set out to learn how much more of what he knew was a lie. I’m sure you know what he found.” 

“Zuko wanted to make a pilgrimage to the places most harmed by the Fire Nation, starting with the Air Temples, the Western Air Temple in particular. We told him only an Air Bender could reach it. We underestimated him. Within a day he had managed to get inside. What he reported back to us was...it was nothing less than a tragedy. The corpses of Fire nation Soldiers and Air Nomads alike were strewn over the temple, which, as you can imagine, had fallen into serious disrepair.”

“Over the next few weeks, we had removed the bodies of the soldiers and gave them tradition field rites as per the Fire Nation. But we agreed we did not want to disrespect the Air Nomads further by denying them the proper rites. We searched the temple in hopes of finding the instructions, which we did.” “Please Iroh,” Aang looked like he was a moment away from sobbing. “Can you tell me...I just want to be sure.” Iroh nodded. “We burned them on an outdoor pyre, eight people in attendance at the cardinal directions. Four people facing the pyre, praying for the spirit of the fallen monk, four facing away, praying to the spirits to guide them. When the fire burned out, we spread the ashes to the four winds.”

Aang let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” His voice shook and Katara pulled him into a hug. Iroh nodded. “But the search for the proper rites drove home to my nephew how much had been lost. We spent much of the first year at the temple, finding what we could on Air Nomad Culture, as well as undoing what damage had been done. We were few to start with, barely thirty people. But as we traveled, more came to us. Most were former soldiers of the Fire Nation who could not stomach what they were asked to do. Some were Earth Kingdom scholars, seeking to uncover what had been lost to the war. We have restored all but the Norther Air Temple, as well as several places in the Earth Kingdom.”

“What about the South Pole.” Sokka crossed his arms. “You said you were going to places the Fire Nation hit hardest.” “The South Pole is still occupied, and I doubt the current residents would appreciate us showing up. We have found some various parchment scrolls, which we have copied into our caches, but not much.”

“Hold up, what caches?” Katara demanded.

“We didn’t want to make it easy for The Firelord’s servants to destroy the histories of the fallen peoples again. All the information we’ve found has been copied and placed in caches. We have one places in each of the locations we’ve restored, as well as several other hidden places throughout the Earth Kingdom. The memories of these people will not be forgotten again.”

“You’re more than welcome to look through the cache here for any knowledge lost to you tribe.” Jee said kindly. “And we would greatly appreciate anything Monk Aang could add. We’ve done our best, but that’s not the same as someone who’s lived in the culture.”

Iroh bowed his head. “For that matter, we recognize that this place and the other Air Temples belong to your people. If your people do not want us in their ancestral home, we will of course leave.”

Aang felt a lump in his throat as he realized that Iroh, and probably the rest of the Restorationists, had made a mistake. They thought he was one of a group of Air Nomads who had escaped. Not that he was the last. And...and if they had been to all the temples, except maybe the Northern One, he very well could be.

“Would you mind if I took a look at the cache.” To be honest he was less interested in it’s contents and more...he just needed some time to sort all this out.

Iroh nodded his head. “Of course. The cache for the Southern Air Temple is in the Atrium of the Southern Wind. I trust you know where that is?”

Aang nodded and rose. “Thank you for the tea.”” He gave a small bow an left, Katara by he side. Sokka hung back a bit and heard a snatch of conversation as he shut the door.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Jee asked.

Sokka froze, listening carefully.

“It depends on what you think I’m thinking.” Iroh said amicably.

“I’m thinking your bastard of a brother never let Zuko interact with other children and he never had the chance to once he took the responsibility to undue sins from before he was born. You’re hoping the Monk and his companions will be friends to him.”

“You know me too well.”

Sokka slid away, not sure if he was disappointed or relieved.

“What are you thinking Aang?” Katara asked as Sokka caught up. “Should we make a break for it.”

“No, if they wanted to hurt us, they would have tried already.” Aang said heavily. He sighed. “I really am the last, aren’t I?”

Katara gripped his hand and Sokka slung an arm around his shoulder. “You’re not alone thought. You know that right?” Katara asked him.

He gave her a sad smile. “Thanks guys.”

The Atrium of the Southern Wind was a tall chamber that was open beneath the ceiling so the wind rushed through. Though open to the air, it let little light in, so when the opened the door the chamber was flooded with light.

There was a single person inside, shielding his eyes as the new light greatly outshone the small candle he had been using. “I told you, Miki. I’ll take a break as soon as I finish transcribing this. Codebreaking is easier than reading Monk Chaiyun’s handwriting.” He was significantly younger than the other Restorationists they had seen. He also seemed to be wearing a strange white fur hat.

Katara and Sokka instinctively stood in front of Aang, who chuckled. “It really was bad.”

The Restorationist’s head shot up, causing his hat to fall off with a startled squeak. “You’re not-How did you get up here?” Then he shook his head. “That’s egotistical, we got up after all, sorry.” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Katara and Sokka felt their stomachs twist. Iroh had said his nephew had been scarred, and they though they had understood what that meant. They had seeen plenty of scars on the men of the village, life at the mercy of the ocean wasn’t kind. Almost all members of the tribe has some scars, from light gashes on fingertips struck with fish hooks, to the broad slash across Chinuk’s chest from when he’s been hit with shrapnel from Fire nation cannons on their last raid.

Nothing they imagined prepared them for the burn covering most of the left side of Zuko’s face. It was like someone with a flaming hand grabbed it and held on. Knowing it was his own father who’d done this, who wanted to do this, sickened them.

Aang’s attention, though, was on his ‘hat’. “Is that a lemur?” he asked, delight entering his voice for the first time.

Zuko smiled. “Yeah. I gave him some food and he’s stuck with me ever since. Do you want to give him some food?”

“Do I? Aang excitedly asked.

Zuko reached into a satchel and pulled out some berries and handed them to Aang. Aang offered them to the lemur who sniffed, then grabbed one, scootign away to eat it.

“I don’t suppose you have some meat in there?” Sokka stared at the satchel longingly. 

“No, but I feel you though. We don’t bring meat to the Temples since the Air Nomads were vegetarians and we don’t want to disrespect them. But I miss it too. I do have some Rabbiyak cheese though.” He reached into the bag and handed a soft yellow wedge to Sokka.

“Good enough!” Sokka grabbed it and shoved it in his mouth, practically melting in joy. 

Katara laughed, both at her brother and her friend, who now had the lemur climbing over him. “You made a new friend, Aang?” Zuko perked up “Aang? You were named after Avatar Aang?”

“Avatar Aang?” Katara asked, thanking the Spirits that the Lemur was on Aang’s face, so Zuko didn’t see his reaction. 

“The last Avatar we have any information on,” Zuko explained. “He grew up in this very Temple. The last piece of information we have on him was that he was going to the Eastern Air Temple. We don’t know if he made it or not though.”

He didn’t. But neither of the siblings wanted to tell anyone from the Fire Nation that, not matter how much goodwill that cheese had bought from Sokka.

Sokka swallowed the last of the cheese. “Iroh said the cache in here might have some lost knowledge from our Tribe?”

“Oh he did?” Zuko looked surprised. “You’re from the Southern Water tribe? I mean, you’d have to be, we don’t have anything from the Northern.” He opened a stone chest next to him. It looked normal from the outside, but opening revealed a strange shape to the interior, as if there were teeth withing the lid. Zuko pulled out multiple scrolls, which he handed to the siblings.

Sokka opened one and was surprised to find a message within stating that this scroll was a reproduction, and described what the original scroll had looked like, from the type of parchment and ink used, to the carvings on the handles. The scroll itself contained information on building a rigging system for a ship.

“Are there Fire Nation Scrolls in here?” Aang asked, the lemur curled up on his head as it had been on Zuko’s.

“Yep.” Zuko scowled, which looked even worse with his scar. “Seems each Firelord does their best to wipe out a culture. Sozin launched the strike on the Air Nomads. Azulon pretty much destroyed all Fire Nation culture that couldn’t be used to prop up the war. So like, the Fire Festival is still on, because ‘Rah Rah Fire Good’, but the Festival of Rebirth, which centered around sowing the fields with ashes to benefit crops was struck from records and history books because it was ‘too Earth Nation’. A vast majority of our culture just...gone.” There was no hiding the bitterness is Zuko’s voice. “And despite the Earth Kingdoms being the single greatest force of Resistance, Ozai’s been obsessed with the Water Tribes, so I guess that will leave Azula with Earth.”

“If they don’t get stopped.” Sokka pointed out.

“I hope so.” Zuko sighed. “If the rest of the world would band together, they could have been stopped a hundred years ago, but too many keep saying ‘not my problem’ till Ozai’s armies are at their doorstep. Everyone keeps saying stuff like ‘If only the Avatar would return, but he’s just one man? Or woman. Like, sure he can bend all the elements, but you just need four people for that. Maybe try to work on stuff yourself rather than rely on one person???” 

“You don’t think the Avatar can save the world?” Sokka asked, eyebrow raised. Sure he like how easily Zuko admitted to the Fire Nation needing to be stopped, but still...

Zuko shrugged. “It’s less I don’t think he can and more...I guess I don’t feel he should have to, I mean, the Fire Nation is about the size and a half of Ba Sing Se. It wouldn’t have stood a chance if all the Earth Kingdoms gave a United front against it in the beginning, much less both Water Tribes assisting.  But only a few Kingdoms and the Southern Tribe did more than protect their own borders. It just doesn’t seem fair to put it all on one person.”

Thank you Aang thought. He wasn’t ready to admit who he was to the Restorationists. In fact, he would have been happy if no one had known. But Zuko saying it didn’t all have to be on his shoulders...no one but Gyatsu had told him that.

“This would mean so much to the Tribe.” Katara said softly, looking at a scroll describing building elaborate structures from ice.

“Would if be better to get the original or copies?” Zuko asked.

Katara gave him a look that was just shy of a glare. “What do you think?” “Depends on how quickly you need the information. We always put originals in the closest cache to where we find them. Like this Waterbending scroll-” Zuko opened one. “-we recovered from pirates in the Earth Kingdom. You can tell from this marking that the original is in our cache in the Fuxai ruins.” He pointed to a small green emblem at the top of the note explaining it was a reproduction. “That’s quite a distance from here. So if the goal is to get the information to your tribe as quickly as possible, it would be easier for me to get a few hands and copy all we have. We’d probably be finished by this evening, which means you could leave to return with it as soon as tomorrow morning. However if it’s important is the cultural history, it makes more sense to get the originals, even though traveling to all the caches would be months worth of work.”

“Oh,” That was...well thought out. It occurred to Katara this may not have been the first time the true owners  of what the Restorationists recovered had come claiming what was theirs.

“Do you think you could do both?” Sokka asked seriously. “Make the copies now and, since we’re going on a journey with Aang, we can swap out the new copies for originals if we pass by.”

“Certainly.” Zuko smiled. “And it gives me a convenient excuse to take a break form trying to decipher Monk Chaiyun’s script for a little while.”

“One question though. If you thought you could be done by tonight and it was important, why would we wait till tomorrow to leave?” Aang wondered.

“And the others say I’m reckless.” Zuko rolled his eyes. “You guys just scaled the mountain. You know how dangerous it is to navigate in broad daylight. In the dark? Even I’d call it a death trap.”

“Actually we don’t. We flew in on my flying bison.” Aang explained.

Zuko froze, then looked at Aang as though he was seeing him for the first time. “A...a real...you really are a...” His mouth opened and closed several times. “Can I see it?” he finally said, then buried his face in his hands as thought that wasn’t at all what he’d wanted to say out loud.

“Sure!” Aang rose to his feet, wind swirling around him. Zuko gaped openly, but followed the monk outside to where they’d entered the temple from.

Zuko hadn’t been the only one interested in Appa. A large group of Restorationists were staring, albeit from a good distance away.

“This is Appa. He’s been my best friend since we were little.” Aang introduced.

Zuko stared in wide eyed wonder. “Can I touch him?”

“Sure, Appa’s friendly. Aren’t you?’ Aang asked, as if expecting the bison to answer.

Zuko tentatively reached out  and touched Appa. He stroked it for a few minutes before impulsively hugging Appa, burying himself in the white fur.

“He’s so fluffy,” Zuko proclaimed in a muffled voice.

Katara laughed and even Sokka smiled. “Still not sure on the rest of them, but this Fire Nation guy’s alright.”

Katara smiled back at him, and at Aang, who was eagerly showing Zuko the best way to pet Appa. Yeah. This one was okay.