#nor do we need to ignore the many ways sophia suffered!

[lesbianaglaya]

revoking people’s right to talk about the tolstoy marriage until they write and turn in to me a ten page essay on complex relationships

[madbucker]

Silhouettes | Daryl Dixon.

Daryl Dixon x female reader.

I. 

Loosely based on the song We Will Become Silhouettes by The Postal Service.

Summary: After Rick’s death Daryl pushed himself away, but he still had someone who would check on him. Y/N cared for him and wanted to make sure he was okay. This works as the presentation of their dynamic, it’s very simple. I will dig deeper, I promise. The chapters won’t be in chronological order, but I will make sure to list it that way too in the masterlist. First part of who knows how many.

Warnings: language, gore stuff (twd style), mentions of death. Will add more warnings depending on the chapter’s content. Let me know if you think it needs some other warning!

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s note: First things first, I’m not a native English speaker, so bear with me! You can send me a message or an ask pointing out some mistakes so I can edit the post. Also, it will help me learn the language, so don’t hesitate! Now that I got that out of the way, this will start as a one shot, but I probably will add more parts to it, digging deeper into the character’s relationship with Daryl and the entire group. I don’t want to do a rewrite because I’m not patient enough and I’d want to jump straight into season 8 or something, lol. If you have any questions or want me to write about a situation in particular (like how they met, runs, the prison, or whatever you come up with) just send me an ask and if I feel like it fits with the story, then I’ll write it! Anyway, if you are into simple writing and limited vocabulary, then I hope you like it and as I said before, I’ll gladly take constructive criticism! ♥

Half a dozen years (or so you thought) of human beings not messing with nature were enough for it to come to life again. The woods had never been greener, the sky had never been more beautiful. The dead were fewer since it was harder for them to walk through such thick undergrowth without them getting stuck in a bush; it was safer to wander around and you could not be happier.

Sometimes, when you looked at the sky at sunset, or even at its darkest time, you would stop thinking about those you had lost. You would never forget them, that was out of the question, but you could enjoy things a little more. Perhaps you were getting used to the guts, the smell, the constant danger… perhaps you had realized your life was not going to change, and that the apocalypse was definitely not a dream, you might as well start seeing the beauty in all that mess.

You sat uncomfortably on the log while looking at the sky. It was full of stars, the Milky Way shining brighter than ever, and sometimes, if you concentrated and were lucky enough, you’d see a shooting star, never missing the opportunity to make a wish.

The fire next to you was dying out and as soon as the first shiver made you jump slightly, you tried to keep it alive. If he came back to the camp he would bring something to cook, you thought. And if he didn’t kick you out or tried to convince you to leave, he would appreciate that you spared him the trouble of starting a fire from scratch.

Right?

You weren’t sure. Hell, you weren’t convinced at all. When Rick died, you witnessed how he closed in once again. It had never been so bad. Not since Beth, anyway. And even then, he had never left the group for that long. He was out there looking for something. So was Michonne, you had seen her walking out of Alexandria’s gates so many times you stopped counting. And you’d follow her without disturbing her, not making a single noise nor making small talk. Sometimes you wondered if she even knew you were there.

She did, of course, you knew. At least most of the times. But, once again, you were there just in case and stayed as far away as you could.

The truth is, though, you were looking for the same thing as her. Rick’s death had broken you too. Not that it could be compared to Michonne’s suffering, or even Daryl’s, but Rick Grimes had been your best friend, your mentor, the one who taught you how to live in this world. He was the one who kept you alive until you could fend for yourself. You loved, owed, and missed him like crazy. So you never stopped looking.

Rick Grimes had died almost a year ago. And Daryl was still outside the walls. He had stepped foot in Alexandria a few times but left right after checking in on everyone. And when it was your turn to trade, or when you just wanted to visit The Hilltop, they informed you he was also going there from time to time. But he left each and every one of them.

Still, you tried to keep him company sometimes. Most of the times he refused, told you to go back and stay safe. And you didn’t fight him, not even once. You weren’t trying to push his buttons, you just wanted him to know you cared.

He did. You knew he knew. But you also knew him, and a little reassurance would never hurt. 

As your mind wandered, your eyes started to feel heavy. It had been a long day, you had worked your ass off fixing some broken sinks and making sure all the cars were, at least, not about to explode. Your body ached and the thought of you doing the same thing the next day without getting proper sleep was not so attractive. And sleeping there alone was definitely not a good idea. You had to go back, even if he didn’t show up.

You forced yourself to get up, ignoring the pain on your legs, and started rummaging through your backpack, looking for the sheet of paper and the pen you had brought with you. It wasn’t the first time you had to leave without seeing him, you had to be prepared. You wanted to let him know you came.

“Water bottles in the bag. Be safe.”

A couple of weeks went by. Your work in Alexandria had kept you busy and exhausted, and Michonne forcing you to take care of Negan while Gabriel was out on a run had also mentally drained you.  You couldn’t be in the same room as him without getting overwhelmed by the memories.

Not good ones. Not at all. But somehow, you managed to get in and out every day without having the urge to kill him, which was an accomplishment.

Once Gabriel and the others were back, you grabbed your stuff and headed out, expecting to be luckier this time. It was still early in the morning, so you were sure you’d be near his camp in the afternoon. Earlier than last time, maybe he hadn’t even left yet.

Without running into any inconveniences, and as you pictured, you sat on the same log as the last time around three hours before sunset. Days were getting shorter and colder, which made you wonder if Daryl would choose to stay in Alexandria the next winter. 

You placed your backpack in front of you and took out the water bottles and the two unlabeled cans of food. You had come prepared to stay the night waiting, it had been almost a month since you last saw him and you just had to make sure he was alive. 

Of course he is, you thought, Daryl can’t not be alive. Last man standing, right?

The sun hadn’t set yet when you heard steps behind you. You expected to see Daryl yet you grabbed your knife just in case, but there he was.

He had three squirrels attached to his belt and looked as tired as he could be. His expression remained blank while looking at you. You got up and stood in your place as he walked around the camp leaving his stuff and preparing to skin the squirrels.

“Took you long enough,�� you said, grinning. He was okay, he was back there and despite his appearance, him being there with you was more than enough.

He sat on the log you had been previously sitting on, with his back facing you, and started working on his next meal.

“Could say the same to you,” he said calmly. He wasn’t complaining, you knew. “Working a lot?” He stopped what he was doing and turned around lightly, almost expecting to hear bad news. Maybe someone had died or run into some crazy asshole, perhaps a herd was getting close to Alexandria. He had gotten used to bad news, you all had.

Walking around him, you sat cross-legged on the floor next to the log he was on, facing him.

“Sinks, and cars, and weirdly normal stuff. Kids are okay. Nothing happened, just too much to work on while some others were away.” You stretched your arms behind you and locked your eyes on the movements of his hands. You had never learned how to properly skin an animal, even if you tried your hardest. At least you compensated it with your surprisingly great aim.

You both stayed there for a while, just him skinning and you moving around and finally trying to start the fire, and for a little bit, you let yourself forget that you’d leave in the morning and not see him again for weeks.

It wasn’t like old times where small talk was still a common thing between you two, but you were more than grateful that he was there, and that you were able to take care of him the way he took care of you so many times in the past. He had been there for you after your sister’s death right after the quarry. In his own way, of course, Daryl Dixon was not one for hugs and slowly caressing arms, but he was there. He had asked you to go with him while searching for Sophia and let you talk your sadness out, and made sure you had somewhere to crash at night when sharing your tent was just too much to handle. You had become friends. Great ones, too, because you understood each other in a way you had never understood anyone before. You knew when to stay, and when to leave; when to speak up, and when to stay quiet and just… be there.

You respected him, also. You were loyal to him and believed in his motives as the good man you knew he was. He was to you what Beth had been to him: the person who showed you that there were good people left in the world. It wasn’t a surprise for you, either, when you caught yourself watching him in a different light. Catching feelings for him came almost too easy for you as if you were meant to care for him. It wasn’t unexpected, you knew, you had always known. But it scared you.

It was terrifying to even think about the chance of losing him, or him losing you if something happened between you. You loved him, and you were certain he was aware of it, at least to some extent. He knew you cared for him, the romantic side of it was what you tried to hide as much as you could. You were loyal to your friendship and to the bond you shared. Both of you were safer that way.

You had seen Rick losing Lori, Maggie losing Glenn, and then Michonne losing Rick. You didn’t want to be the next one to experience that kind of loss. Getting close enough to imagine a future together and then them dying in your arms was the last thing you wished.

When the squirrels were fully cooked, the sun was out and the night sky was starting to get cloudy. The temperature had heavily dropped and you could almost smell the upcoming rain. In no time you would be soaking wet and wishing you were back at Alexandria with a roof over your head, but it was too late to go back, and you would have to spend at least another hour trying to convince Daryl to go with you.

And on top of that, you knew you wouldn’t manage to.

“Kinda missing umbrellas now,” you said scanning the sky. He imitated you and scoffed, biting into the last pieces of his meal.

“‘s not gonna be bad,” he scrubbed his hands on his jeans and stared at you, “you stayin’?”

You knew you were going to stay, you would find a way to do it, but his question still took you by surprise. It was the first time he suggested it himself instead of you deciding to stay on your own.

Looking at him and lightly tilting your head to the left, you smiled.

“Am I your friend again then?” You joked and he rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he said mockingly as he got up to put out the fire. You got up too and stretched your legs, considering keeping watch first so he could get some sleep. He looked exhausted, you figured he needed to rest, and you being there could maybe help him relax since he wouldn’t have to pay attention to every little sound.

“I’ll keep watch,” you took the gun from your backpack and checked your knife, just in case. Looking around the perimeter you also confirmed the wires and metal cans Daryl had put up were all in place, you would hear the walkers before they could get near you. “Go ahead, get some sleep. I’ll wake ya up in a few hours.” You approached his tent and sat near the entrance, making yourself comfortable with your back pressed against a tree. 

Once he finished putting out the fire, he walked towards you and sat down next to you.

Shoulder to shoulder, keeping watch. It instantly reminded you of the never ending nights at the guard tower back at the prison. You remembered how you would nonchalantly talk about your life before the dead walked, how he would listen and comment on it without talking about his own. 

You remembered, too, when he opened up to you for the first time.

It had taken him a couple of years of knowing you, but he finally did. And you listened carefully, as quiet as you could be and giving him all the time in the world to speak. It had been on a night like this one, keeping watch like this time too. He had told you everything: Merle, his dad, his scars, his mom. You used to be so close it ached to realize that that was now in the past. He still trusted you, but it wasn’t the same, and sometimes you wondered if it was ever going to be that way again.

Suddenly, as the first thin raindrops touched your skin, you felt a knot on your throat that you drowned with a chuckle. How long had it been since you felt like crying? Months. Probably more. You didn’t have to turn to look at Daryl to know he was staring at you.

“Dixon I swear to God,” you spoke, trying to find something to say that wouldn’t give you away, “if you catch a cold…”  jokingly threatening him, you then looked at him. The drizzle making small raindrops land on his hair. You noticed how long it had gotten, making a mental note to bring some scissors next time.

He snorted, “what?”

“I’m draggin’ your ass back to Alexandria,” you stated, smiling widely.

Your smile didn’t last long, though. His face expressionless the moment you mentioned the place. You knew why. You felt like that sometimes too, but it didn’t matter who was there, it was still your home.

“‘m not goin’ back there. Not for a while.” He fidgeted with his fingers and then with an arrow. “I tried, but every time I go, knowin’ he’s there-”

“I would’ve killed him already if I didn’t have so much self-control.” You cut him off; he was right, it had taken him all of his strength to visit Judith and baby R.J. without going to the cell and finish what he swore he would finish. “Then I’ll drag your ass back to the Hilltop or the Kingdom.”

“I was thinkin’ of spending the winter there. At the Kingdom.”

Smiling, you reached for his arm and squeezed lightly, him not flinching at your touch the way he did when you first met all those years ago. That was still a thing, at least, his comfort with your touch.

“I’d love that.”

Not much was said after. He had given up and gone to sleep while you kept watch for the rest of the night. You had given up too when you realized he wasn’t waking up; you decided you would take the day off, Alexandria could do without you for a day while you recovered with a long, much-needed nap. Hearing his snores made you realize: that man hadn’t gotten proper sleep in weeks.  It didn’t matter to you when the rain got heavier, though it was never unbearable. You were glad that you were there and that you could help him some way. The only way you could.

[itsthwippingtime]

Ok so I have this headcannon that Peter gets into vaping to deal with his anxiety and he eventually ends up buying a juul even though he knows it’s bad for him. So he basically becomes addicted to it and he’s really embarrassed about it so he doesn’t tell anyone and then one day Tony finds out and he feels like he failed Peter because he didn’t want Peter to have addiction problems too and ughhhh you could literally write so much angsty shit about this.

i am so so so sorry this took so long i wanted to get it just right and then school and life got in the way and then it turned into this which was kinda unintentional  cause its 2598 words whoops and not exactly what you asked for but i hope you like it!!!

also thank you to the absolutely amazing Sophia @marvelbased for helping me out with this!!!

____

Peter’s not a stupid kid; he knows doing certain things or not doing certain things won’t make him cool. But going to parties was already nerve-wracking enough for him, it didn’t help to have Flash hounding him all night. Normally he would brush it off, ignore him, leave if it got really annoying but tonight -

Tonight was different. Peter was irritable, he had a shitty day of training yesterday and a shitty night of patrolling which turned into a shitty day at school. He wouldn’t have even come to this party if it weren’t for Ned and MJ. They really wanted to come and he promised he would go with them and Peter Parker - however irritable and grumpy he was - would never break a promise.

It was supposed to be one hit - honest. Ned tried to help, told him to just ignore Flash, “We can leave right now Peter, it’s fine, let’s just go.” One hit wouldn’t do anything, he wouldn’t even feel it, what with the spider bite and his heightened senses and all. Just once, and Flash is off his back, once to prove he’s capable of anything - he hangs out with the Avengers dammit! - just once to be accepted.

It’s just… he wasn’t expecting to like it.

Not the drug, nor the so-called ‘buzz’ most people got - it took twice as many hits as normal for him to even begin to feel a buzz, he later learned - but the feeling. The feeling of proving Flash wrong, standing up to him, proving that dammit he was capable.

He liked it. So ‘one hit and they were gone’ turned into MJ dragging Ned and Peter out by their ears, yelling things like “how could you be so fucking stupid!?” and “do you know what that stuff does to your body?!” and “you’re lucky I was even there, Ned wanted to call May!” Of course, she was just yelling at Peter, who glared at Ned.

Ned and MJ both were worried - Peter may be the smartest kid in their school but he’s a dumbass and this is exactly the kind of thing a dumbass would do. Vaping may not be a ‘hard drug’ but it was dangerous still and “I’ll be fine you guys. Do you know how much I’d have to vape before I even start getting addicted? It was one time, honest.” But the look in Peter’s eyes - eyes glassed over, as if his mind was in another place - worried MJ. Almost enough to call May. Almost.

Needless to say, it wasn’t ‘just this once.’ MJ and Ned - and multiple kids at school - were the only ones who knew. MJ regrets not calling May that first night. She regrets not calling May the minute she found out he continued to vape. But Peter begged her not to and “do you know how worried and freaked out she would be?” and “I’ll quit I promise I swear no more” and Peter Parker never breaks a promise

But May doesn’t need MJ to call her; she’s not stupid or oblivious and peter’s mood swings and outbursts have become much more recent and powerful than that of a typical teenage boy (even if said boy does have spider powers). Peter’s grumpier and snappier than normal and “cut the shit Peter, what’s going on? Is it something at school? Something with the Avengers?” and he always talks to her, more so now that she knows about Spider-Man, but “It’s nothing just leave it alone.”

Tony noticed too. Peter didn’t come around the tower much anymore and when he did he wasn’t as enthusiastic to be training with the Avengers or working in the lab - if fact, it had been weeks since Peter even stepped foot in the lab of his own free will. But the turning point, the moment Tony really realized something was most definitely wrong was when May called Tony.  She said she wanted to talk to Peter about their plans for Saturday and why he wasn’t answering his phone. Tony explained Peter wasn’t there and May explained that Peter left a note saying he was going to spend the night at the tower. May apologized, thanked him for his time, and - although Tony could hear the frown in her voice and wanted to reassure her - ended the call.

It only got worse as the weeks went on. May and Tony’s worry increases exponentially. Peter stops going to the tower altogether - even for required training exercises - and pretty much completely stops talking to May. If he does talk to her, he’s complaining of nausea or headaches. She wants to take him to the doctor - it’s almost every day that he complains of one or the other - but she knows they won’t be able to help him. She all but begs him to go see Tony or Bruce and he all but refuses. There’s something more going on - she just wishes he would tell her.

Tony calls twice a week, at least. Each time it’s the same routine. He’ll call Peter - leave him a message, ask how his week has been, ask him why he hasn’t been patrolling as much, asks him to call him back, wishes him well and hangs up - then he’ll call May and actually get an answer. He asks for an update on Peter, always the same answer - “He’s not around enough for me to notice a change” - asks how she is, what he can do to help, and wishes her well before ending the call. The normalcy of the routine would be comforting if he could figure out what was wrong with Peter.

During one phone call, May suggests they, for lack of a better word, snoop.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, but what if he’s in danger, Tony? What if he’s so far gone he doesn’t feel like he can ask for help anymore?”

“I won’t snoop May. I won’t invade his privacy like that and I won’t violate his trust like that. I can’t tell you what to do but I hope you make the right decision. We have to give Peter our trust, we have to show him that we trust him because if we don't…. If we don’t our relationships with him may suffer even more. If he’s in danger we have to trust that he’ll come to us. He might wait until the last minute but he will come to us. We have to trust him May.”

She sighs and agrees, understanding why they shouldn’t, why they can’t. But at 2:00 am on a Tuesday night in October Tony and May alike consider going to his room in their respective living areas just to find out what the fuck is going on.

May shows up at exactly 2:03 am on Tuesday morning. Tony, as per usual these days, is up late in the lab. Tony can see that she’s been crying. He doesn’t even have to ask what’s wrong before she starts explaining how Peter never came home from school, how she later got a call saying he hadn’t been to school at all that day, about she hoped he was patrolling and waited up for him, how he never came home and she doesn’t know what to do and he won’t answer his phone and “don’t you have a damn tracker on him” and “what if he’s in trouble” and-

And Tony cuts her off, telling her they’ll find him, whatever’s going on with him they’ll figure it out, it’ll be okay. He spends the better part of 20 minutes reassuring her and trying to calm her down, even if he doesn’t believe everything he’s saying himself. Once it seems like she’s a bit calmer than when she arrived, he tells Friday to pull up the map for the tracker he put in Peter’s suit. The flashing red dot shows Peter’s last location - somewhere in Hells Kitchen - from two weeks ago. Tony can feel his heart jump, his stomach doing somersaults as he tries to override whatever blocker Peter put on the tracker this time. Nothing works. May is silent as he works and he’s not entirely sure how he feels about that. He tells her to go get some sleep, to use Peter’s room. She tells him that she won’t relax until Peter’s safe.

Tony puts his earpiece in as he tells Friday to contact Karen or direct him straight to Peter.

“Karen appears to be offline, boss”

“What? Karen is never supposed to go offline. Unless…”

Tony trails off.

“Unless what?” May asks, sounding more on edge than ever.

“Peter wouldn’t. Would he?”

“Wouldn’t what Tony? I need answers here!”

“Peter has the ability to override Karen, completely shut her down in the unlikely event that she makes a call that is unsafe for Peter.”

May chooses to ignore the part about a potentially evil AI system threatening Peter, which Tony is grateful for.

“And it would explain why his tracker hasn’t been picked up in two weeks but…. He wouldn’t. I can’t think of any situation where he’d have to do so.”

Tony sits and thinks. Silently. At this moment, Pepper quietly comes into the lab, seemingly woken up by a lack of Tony in bed.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ve gotta go out and find him.”

“Find who?” Pepper says, completely lost in the conversation she just jumped into head first.

“I want to go too,” May adds.

“No. It’s too late and you’ll be more helpful here. I need you to monitor the tracking device. I’m going to try to get Karen back online while looking for him. If that red dot changes, I need you to tell me.”

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Pepper says, visibly agitated at being out of the loop and up so early.

May begins to catch Pepper up on the recent events as Tony goes to suit up. Once he’s in the air he tells FRIDAY to start running diagnostics on the last data input sent in from Karen - location, time, amount of data, video files, audio files, anything they could use to get Karen back online - and to scan the area. When the scan comes up negative he moves on. He scans every last inch of New York, personally searches every one of Peter’s favorite places. He’ll search all night if he has to. The last thing Tony wants to do it show up back at the tower empty-handed.

It’s 4:23 am when Tony finally, finally comes up with something.

“There’s movement on the Whitestone Bridge, boss.”

Tony jets over, as fast as he can. He sees something at the top of one of the columns. As he gets closer he sees his Peter. His heart stops and jumps into his throat and he feels like he’s going to throw up all his organs. Not wanting to startle Peter, he quietly lands on the opposite end of the column. He makes his footsteps loud enough for Peter to notice so as not to startle Peter too much when he speaks, making him aware of his presence. The twitch of his ears lets him know he’s done that job. Now comes the hard part.

“Pete? Hey buddy… what are you doing up here?” He speaks slowly and surely.

Peter doesn’t answer. There’s nothing for him to swing on. If he jumps… that’s it.

“Peter, step away from the edge.” Tony’s careful to keep the edge out of his voice, hoping to calm Peter down by appearing calm himself. Peter doesn’t move, apart from looking at Tony from the corner of his eye. It’s something, Tony thinks.

“Peter, what’s going on kid? Talk to me, I’m here. I need you to talk to me.”

Peter sniffles and wipes his eyes. He’s been crying.

“What’s going on?”

“I didn’t mean to.” His voice is so soft and quiet, Tony almost misses it.

“Mean to what? What happened?”

“I tried. Honest Mister Stark I tried. I just…”

He trails off. Tony slowly moves to sit beside him.

“That’s all any of us can do Pete, is try. You tried your best and sometimes it doesn’t work out but at least you tried.”

“But that’s the thing, I didn’t try my best, I wasn’t my best, I tried but I knew it was my best and it’s my fault and and”

He worked himself up and Tony pulled him closer.

“And what?”

“She could die.”

Tony’s stomach dropped.

“Who?”

“She’s so tiny Mister Stark. Little girl, five, maybe six years old. She didn’t wake up, they tried to do CPR but she wouldn’t wake up and they took her to the hospital and there was so much blood and….

“And she could die. And it would be my fault.”

Tony doesn’t know what happened that night, what happened that caused a little girl being sent to the hospital - he made a mental note to check up on her and her family as soon as possible - and he doesn’t know what Peter had been going through in these last few weeks. All he knows is that right now his main priority is to show Peter that it wasn’t his fault - he tried - and get him off this bridge.

“Peter it is not your fault. Whatever happened tonight, whatever happened before, it is not your fault you can’t believe that.”

“I only made it worse.”

“You’re Spider-Man, you couldn’t possibly make it worse.”

“I shouldn’t have gone to help.”

“That little girl might not have a chance in the hospital if you hadn’t.”

“I’m sick.”

Tony, for what seems like the umpteenth time tonight, feels like he might puke.

“What do you mean you’re sick.”

“I’m sick. I’m not in the right frame of mind. I haven’t been for a while and I wasn’t when I went to help and I’m still not. And I’m sick.”

It isn’t until then that Tony notices Peter clutching something in his left hand, as he opens it up to show him. It’s a fucking Juul.

“Peter,” careful to keep all emotion out of his voice “this made you sick?”

“It’s a long story. But yes. The spider bite made it harder to feel anything so I-I vaped more than the average person would in one sitting. Apparently, I vaped more than the average spider person should too.” Peter chuckles dryly and if Tony wasn’t already on edge before, that would have set him off. “I’m sick - mentally and physically - and I don’t-I don’t know how to get better.”

Tony was disappointed and confused and hurt and a billion other emotions he wasn’t sure he even knew about. But most of all, he was scared. Scared for Peter. What would have happened if May didn’t come to the tower tonight? How far would this have gone? Why didn’t Peter feel like he could come to him or May with these? He needed the answers to all these questions, but now wasn’t the time.

“You get better with time Pete. Time and help and support from those who love you and want to see you get better. We’ll get through this together yeah?” Peter nodded, eyes watery, a sad smile on his face. “You’re strong kid. You’ll get through this, but you won’t be alone.”

The future held a lot of unknowns, or both Peter and Tony. It will be scary and tough and stressful and frustrating. There will be a lot of tears, a lot of screaming fights and slamming doors. But they’re strong. They’ll get through it.

____

Im so sorry for how long this is it was an accident my b

also if ya know people like it i might do one from more Peter’s POV since this was really more from Tony/May’s POV. Let me know what you think, feel free to send feedback in messages, comments, or asks!!! 

[maidenofsophia]

No-Gnostic Sophian

Reading the articles on Di-Jana concerning Divine Sophia are convincing me more and more to drop the Gnostic label from my practice, in much the same way that I have distanced myself from identifying as Christian, other than culturally.

Gnosis is still a part of my belief structure, as is Christ. Yet these two aspects alone don’t feel enough to keep me tied to what the names have come to mean in the world. There was a time this didn’t bother me. So long as *I* understood what they mean and how I connect with them it was all that mattered. But it doesn’t feel that easy anymore and I’m constantly having to disconnect from the renowned aspects of each path that I personally reject.

I love Christ, as in I love the idea of Christ-consciousness, a state of discovering the divine within oneself and becoming a light-bearer of sacred knowledge and guidance from God for others. When wisdom and word (Sophia and Logos) are perfectly connected within a great spiritual leader. I follow the example set by those I believe have achieved Christ-consciousness; Yeshua the Nazarene and Mariya Magdalene, as well as being inspired by others of different faiths such as Gautama Buddha and Guru Nanak Dev Ji. Through them I inspire to be ‘Christ-like’, as the name ‘Christian’ translates as. However, this is not what defines a Christian in the world today. A Christian is, apparently, someone who accepts the sacrifice of Jesus Christ - the one true Son of the God of Israel - in order to be saved from damnation. That is an oversimplification and many denominations have different views on what this entails - but it is what people have come to think of when they hear the word ‘Christian’, in the smallest of nutshells. I may disagree but I am just one voice drowned out by billions. 

And the same is occurring with being a Gnostic. I still believe in the concept of Gnosis. I believe it is the key, or at least one of them, to achieving Christ-consciousness. But it is probably the only Gnostic idea that I still cleave to. The one I have always had most conflict with is the idea of the Demiurge and the Archons, mostly stemming from the concept that they and the material world are a ‘mistake’ produced by Sophia messing up. Basically reducing Her to yet another female who is to blame for the Fall from Grace. I have made attempts to come to my own understanding on this idea, even finding inspiration in the concept that the Goddess Herself makes mistakes. But this still feels like an insult to Her, especially with the added factor of Her needing a male hero in the Logos to rescue Her and return her to the patriarchal Father whom She repents to. Even if I’m to replace ‘Father’ with ‘Mother’ (or Parent) it still demeans Sophia by having Her as a repentant figure. Just as the church did to Mary Magdalene by turning her from a spiritual teacher into a penitent prostitute.

I’m not sure where I stand on the Archons and the Demiurge. At first, like many newcomers to Gnostic mythology, I saw them as the big bad evil rulers of the Universe, then they became more like oafish corporate overlords, with the Demiurge as a rebellious son that his goddess mother could not control. But now after reading this article by ArchMadria Candre Sophia, I can’t unsee the connection between Sophia creating the seven Archons and Eurynome creating the seven planetary powers. The Gnostic misogynist spin on this idea of the Goddess creating/birthing seven powers of the Earth becoming something shameful feels evident - one only has to read many of the ‘Gnostic’ scriptures to see that at the time of their writing, a feminine version was always inverted of its masculine counterpart: always negative. Corrupt. 

I’m also aware that in the Filianic mythos, the Dark Queen has seven darker counterparts of the Seven Janati. But there is no description in Gnostic mythology of there being Seven Aeons to counterpart the Archons, as would have made sense to me. Barbelo, the All-Mother, gives birth to all the many Aeons of the Pleroma - but all through the permission and power of the superior ‘Father God’, to which She is but a passive recipient to his active life-force. Almost everything I come across in Gnostic literature is plagued with this misogynistic idea of the male/masculine representing that which is ‘higher’ and what rescues the fallen feminine counterpart. The Divine Feminine may be honoured and praised, even worshipped, for her repentance and resolve as well as her growing wisdom, but there always seems to be a male face above Hers, whether it be the Son or the Alien Father. 

This is not what I believe. I see Barbelo, the All-Mother, as the beginning of all things. The first great mystery. If She came from an Unknown Force than it was not the ‘Father’. I believe He exists within Her, a tiny speck of light that pulses like a heartbeat, where His love and knowledge pours into the veins of the cosmos that She creates. He aids Her, His role is important and appreciated, but She is not dependant on Him as He is to Her. She is the Great Mother who crafts and nurtures all things since the beginning. From Her comes Lady Sophia who sought to create the material universe by Her own choice. This was no mistake. The rulers She put in place, which Gnostics call Archons, are a part of Her. They do not act against Her or any of Her children. Instead they are more akin to the Holy Aeons of the Pleroma interacting in our universe. This does not mean I reject the idea of the Demiurge and Archons completely - but my view has changed. I no longer see them as corrupted children of Our Lady. The Demiurge is not a god - rather the Demiurge is us. Or, rather, it is when we as living beings turn away from the light of Sophia. It is when we accept ignorance over truth, oppression over freedom, hatred over compassion etc. These are the choices that bring sin, which creates the illusion that we are separate or lost from Our Mother. This is the root of all pain and suffering. To ensure we do not remain lost, Sophia entered the universe in the form of her daughter, Zoe, to face the seven Archons and share the suffering of mortal beings. In this act She shattered Her soul to ensure that we all carry a spark of Her within us. I still believe in the Divine Son, the Logos, but He is not Her saviour or hero-husband figure. Rather He, as a supportive brother and devoted champion, acts with the Mother-Father and the Seven Powers to return Zoe to the Pleroma, thus ensuring all living beings salvation. He is the Word that is spoken to share truth among the people - but without Wisdom, the Word is empty, and can be corrupted. Wisdom, on the other hand, but can be hidden away - but never used for evil. 

In short; I believe in Sophia as God in Her own right. As Mother, Daughter and Holy Soul (also called Celestial Mother or Holy Bride). I believe She creates the Father and Son, who act in tandem with the Mother and Daughter, but are not superior. I also believe that the Father and Son are without ego or ‘toxic masculine’ aspects - so they do not demand worship or sacrifice, they are devoted to Her and Her creation. They are divine powers of pure love and compassion. I don’t believe that the material world was a ‘mistake’ on Sophia’s part, nor do I believe we are ruled by enemies of Her. I believe that Gnosis and Christ-consciousness helps to reunite our souls with Her fully, to become bearers of Her light, but not to free us from another god’s world. I plan to study and meditate on the Seven Spirits of Sophia, similar to how Deanists build a relationship with the Seven Janati. 

While I doubt there would be Gnostics today who kick up a fuss about the different view I take, painting Sophia as a righteous divine figure rather than a fallen goddess, or seeing the supposed ‘Archons’ in a positive light, it does feel so different to how Gnosticism was introduced to me or how it is still practised in churches such as the Ecclesia Gnostica. This is why, something I’ve now convinced myself at the end of writing this post, I no longer identify as a Gnostic. I might loosely call myself a Christian mystic if pushed, only as I feel I am a ‘cultural Christian’ as that is where my beliefs have grown from, but nothing really more than that.

I am still a Sophian. She is the constant. Often I contemplate calling myself a Sophian Deanist, as my beliefs seem to grow more and more similar along with my interest in the religion and love for the followers on here (especially with Clan Jana), but I admire Deanism for being a safe-space religion for those who wish to worship the Divine Feminine on Her own without any need for a masculine divinity. As the Father and Son are still part of my Godhead, albeit in the background and subject to the All-Mother, I would still feel out of place. I’m aware blended paths with divine masculine gods are accepted (so long as Dea is seen as the Supreme Creatrix) but I’ve yet to see any other Deanist attempt this and I’m not brave enough to be the first to try. ;) So I hope at the very least to be able to take inspiration where I can and enjoy the parallels between our faiths.

[spirit-science-blog]

Every day is a bank account, and time is our currency. No one is rich. No one is poor. We've got 24 hours each. --Christopher Rice

We’ve been taught a lot of things about money, and a lot of these things aren’t real! Today we smash these money myths, once and for all!

In the last episode, we discussed what money was from a spiritual perspective, and began to look at our relationship to money. Today, let us continue to establish this new understanding of currency by calling out the old paradigm, and breaking down some ancient money myths!

Money Myth 1 - Money is the Root of all Evil

Have you probably heard this one before, right? Tell me, where did you first hear this idea? Parents? Church leaders? Friends? Family members? It’s an idea that has been passed down for generations, and today we find it deeply ingrained in our belief systems about the world. But allow me a moment to let you in on a secret, are you ready?

The first time this quote made it significant was actually in the bible, it’s from Timothy 1. What’s interesting about the book of Timothy is that for so long, these writings were attributed to St. Paul, however, it is now recognized by most scholars that Timothy, along with nearly half of the other books attributed to Paul, was inauthentic writings that signed his name on them.

The reason why this is so profoundly significant - is that when you get into the original writings of St. Paul, you find him using all kinds of language that would indicate he was a Gnostic Mystic, practicing an early Christian version of the Mystery Schools. For example, we find him saying things like “We practice Sophia among the Initiated,” both Sophia and Initiation speaking to the Gnostic Mystery Schools.

There are books written about this subject alone, at the top of the list I recommend “The Gnostic Paul” by Elaine Pagels, “The Jesus Mysteries” by Timothy Freke & Peter Gandy, and The Book of Spirit, by your very own Patchman. We’re going to do a whole series about this in the future, but for now, let’s stay on the subject of Money.

The reason I’m sharing this with you is that many of St. Pauls original writings were very pro-mystic teachings. Still, later on, the Roman Empire adopted Nicene Christianity and forged some letters from Paul, including the book of Timothy - where they say that Money is the root of all evil, along with related phrases like "But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence." Jeez, Timothy, you hate money, women, what’s next, same-sex relationships? Indeed *sigh*, sorry I need a sec Seeing things like this makes my stuffing come out. *patch man putting his stuffing back in his head*

As you might be aware of, the Holy Roman Empire passionately and violently insisted that everyone follow their specific version of Christianity, leading to a very depressed society and culture that would be both very patriarchal and impoverished for at least a thousand years, and these belief systems are still lingering around in our consciousness today.

It’s wild, and I posed this very question in a poll on Instagram and Facebook a while back. I asked, “The root of all evil is…, either Money or Ignorance”. The response was pretty divided, with about half of the audience saying that money was the root of all evil!

But here’s the thing! That myth *play it’s a trap meme* It’s an idea that keeps poor people poor just by believing it. Think about it, and if you are weak, and you believe money is the root of evil, you’re going to consciously, or subconsciously, avoid having it at all cost. Having money will, either consciously or subconsciously, makes you feel like you’ll be going to hell, and so you get rid of it the moment it shows up!

So what’s the moral of this story here? I think Ayn Rand said it best with her legendary quote.

Money is only a tool. It will take you wherever you wish, but it will not replace you as the driver. --Ayn Rand

Money Myth 2 - Rich People Suck

Let’s look at another money myth. Specifically, the way that wealthy people are commonly viewed in society. There is an ingrained mentality that “rich people are all greedy jerks,” right? Often people with wealth are wrapped into the “Elite ruling Illuminati” class of the world, just because they have money. The more money you have - the more likely you will be associated with the Illuminati by conspiracy theorists.

Now, you’ve probably heard this one, “filthy stinking rich!” right? This common belief sets a standard for yourself that you could never have lots of money because anyone with money is filthy, and stinky too! If all rich people are greedy jerks, and you don’t want to be a jerk, right? So it’s probably best that you’re not rich. But the thing is, it’s a very limiting perspective. Today many millionaires in the world do their best to use their money to make life better for everyone - but if you’re only looking to see the worst in wealthy people, then it doesn’t matter how many benevolent millionaires there are, you won’t be able to see them.

Now, let’s be clear - indeed, there are rich jerks in the world, but there are also poor jerks. And considering that there are significantly more poor people than wealthy in the world, we could probably argue that there are way more poor jerks than rich ones. Either way, here’s the key - Money is neutral, and will amplify what’s already there. If you’re benevolent, money can help you be more generous. If you’re a greedy jerk, then yeah - money can make you more of that too.

Now, let me be clear that a lot of money has been made extorting others in the world, and that’s not a paradigm that I support. I get that this is where a lot of our negative collective associations towards money comes from, but we have to temper that attitude by observing others who have done brilliant things with their wealth. Take Vishen Lakhiani, for example, the founder of Mindvalley. He and his team have created a massive and beautiful online platform for the education of what regular schools forget—teaching the art of living extraordinary, fulfilling, and happy lives. Mindvalley is just one example out of thousands of people using their wealth for good.

If we adopt the idea that all rich people are greedy jerks, then our minds automatically try and find ways to throw shade at good-hearted people. Even if you genuinely don’t like certain people for whatever reason, we have to take into consideration that they’re people too, and they’re doing their best with the position that they’re in to make a positive change in the world.

If we are willing to look at money differently, as something that we can use benevolently for the benefit of humankind, then we open up the potentials of us earning it and stepping into a new way of life for ourselves and those around us.

Money Myth 3 - It’s All About The Deals!

Now, speaking of our collective relationship with money, let me show you something both funny and exciting. To begin though, I’d like to introduce you to my friend Ariel! She’s one of my new artist friends who is helping to create this very video, and when I spoke with her about this script, she sent me this picture after with a lol attached. It’s a meme that reasonably describes our collective relationship with money and perspective of value.

Healthy groceries - 100$ “too expensive.”

Dinner date - 100$ “reasonable.”

Therapist - 130$ “Absurd.”

Trip to Target - 130$ “great deals!”

Average college class - 1000$ “expensive”

iPhone - 1000$ “a necessity”

To me, this meme accurately describes a mindset of lack. We’ve been conditioned to think in deals instead of what’s truly valuable. The result is that it becomes easy to miss out on potential opportunities to invest in ourselves and our personal growth.

See, that’s also the other side of money, not just making it, but spending it- which is so valuable for us to learn and integrate into our lives. Every time you spend money, you are investing your energy into what you believe is worthwhile. So the question then becomes, what do you value most in life? Yes, you could spend a thousand dollars on video games, or, you could spend that same thousand dollars on a backpacking trip around some foreign land, or maybe taking a specialized course to help you get better at doing something you love.

James Frick said it best when he said, “Don’t show me where your priorities are. Show me where you spend your money, and I’ll tell you what they are.”

It looks like I'm running out of time, but we still have a few more essential money myths to smash! So we’re going to go quickly through these next few, okay?

Money Myth 5 - You Have To Be A Cheapskate

You’ve probably heard the financial gurus talking about living on a budget, and so live on the cheap and save money away, and one day you’ll have a big pile of dollars! However, the idea here is that you create your reality, and if you’re focused on this cheap mentality, then that’s what you’ll continue to build. On the other hand, if you change your thinking, focus on generating wealth rather than pinching pennies, imagine how your reality could be different? This also relates to another money myth, which I’ll throw in here - You have to get wealthy very slowly. So you believe, so shall you create.

Money Myth 6 Financial Freedom

Most people believe financial freedom means having enough money, so you don’t have to work. But this myth is broken because having financial freedom today doesn’t mean you’ll have financial freedom tomorrow. Instead - use the term “Financial Confidence” - this means knowing you have the skills and ability to make money, no matter what happens. It means you never feel you have to be at the mercy of external forces when it comes to your financial life. This is what it means to be indeed open to allowing that cosmic energetic stability to permeate your experience, as we discussed before.

That brings us to the end of our money myths, but in closing, I’d like to share something special with you.

Many of these Money Myths came from a brilliant book that I discovered recently, that catapulted me on a journey of transforming my relationship with money. The book is called F.U. Money, by a man named Dan Lok. He explains that your F.U. Money simply means it’s the “enough is enough” number - where you have enough money, you don’t have to take any crap from anyone anymore, like rude bosses or mean managers and so on.

Everyone’s F.U. Money number is different for everyone, and it is the number you need to live that life that you want to. Throughout the book, he not only breaks down the money myths, but he also provides some precise instructions for moving towards a life of freedom and financial confidence right now.

The best part is - this book is free! If you are ready to transform your financial life entirely and live a life of wealth and prosperity - my highest recommendation is to start where I did, and go download F.U. Money and give it a read. Be warned, this book is intense, but it hits where it counts, and for those who are ready, it could just be the catalyst for a significant change in your life.

Thank you. I’ll see you again next week for more spiritual money!