#praying for peace and healing and an end to the violence

[sofiaspeaksart]

ceasefire now

praying for peace and healing

let there be an end to the violence

mountain gazelle, Palestinian sunbirds, and twigs from an olive tree

[mariacallous]

As war rages between Israel and Hamas in the Gaza Strip, it is hard to envision an end to the conflict. For decades, though, a growing movement of Palestinian and Israeli women has not only envisioned a peaceful coexistence, but also demanded it.

Just three days before Hamas’s Oct. 7, 2023, attack, thousands of women from two peacebuilding groups gathered at Jerusalem’s Tolerance Monument for a rally and march. Israelis from Women Wage Peace carried blue flags, and Palestinians from Women of the Sun flew yellow ones.

Members of the two groups traveled to the Dead Sea—believed since ancient times to have healing qualities—and set a table. Women from both sides pulled up chairs as a symbol of a good-faith resumption of negotiations to reach a political solution.

Women Wage Peace formed in response to Operation Protective Edge, which was Israel’s 2014 invasion of Gaza in the wake of then-U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry’s failed effort to restart final status negotiations.

“We, Palestinian and Israeli mothers, are determined to stop the vicious cycle of bloodshed,” reads the preamble to their campaign, the Mother’s Call. This campaign was nine months in the making, and it involved aligning around a single agenda that demands a political solution within a limited time frame.

They set the table to show the importance of dialogue and women’s involvement in decision-making. But in the war between Israel and Hamas that has started since then, women’s voices are largely missing from negotiations and consultations.

Ensuring women’s participation isn’t about equity or fairness or a show of inclusion. It’s about winning the peace.

In 2014, Laurel Stone, then a researcher at Seton Hall University, conducted a quantitative analysis of 156 peace agreements over time. She found that when women are decision-makers—serving as negotiators and mediators—the probability of an agreement lasting at least two years increased by 20 percent. The probability of the agreement holding for 15 years increased by 35 percent.

Many studies show that women tend to be more collaborative, more focused on social issues over military issues, and less likely to attack those who hold differing views. With women at the table, the potential for risk-taking behavior and attacks on perceived enemies may be lower. In diverse teams, decisions are more likely to be based on facts than assumptions.

While men are more likely to be fighters in war, the work of holding families and communities together more often falls to women, and according to some studies, it’s women who more frequently stand up for a return to negotiations, civilian protection, and an end to violence.

“We learned from the cases of Northern Ireland and Liberia,” Yael Braudo-Bahat, the co-director of Women Wage Peace, told Foreign Policy. Women’s active participation greatly strengthened these peace and recovery processes.

Ahead of the formal talks that led to the Belfast Agreement in Northern Ireland, Catholic and Protestant women’s groups formed the Northern Ireland Women’s Coalition and gained two seats at a table of 20 in formal negotiations. As one of the few groups that moved beyond the sectarian divide, its members were seen as honest brokers. They represented civil society concerns and helped ensure that the agreement included commitments for social healing and integration.

Because the brutality of war falls disproportionately on women—they frequently are the first to go hungry, serve as the de facto caretakers, and become the victims of increased gender based violence—they are often committed to finding a path to peace even when male leaders won’t compromise.

During the Second Liberian Civil War, women played a heroic role by successfully pressuring male decision-makers to negotiate. The documentary Pray the Devil Back to Hell, directed by Gini Reticker and produced by Abigail Disney, popularized the incredible story of how women convinced the warring parties to attend peace talks in Accra, Ghana.

“We were the ones watching our children die of hunger … we were the easiest targets of rape and sexual abuse,” said Nobel Prize laureate Leymah Gbowee, the founder of the Women for Liberia Mass Action for Peace grassroots movement, which played a major role in pushing then-President Charles Taylor to sign a peace agreement in 2003. This common suffering among women formed the basis for unity across political and religious divides.

In Israel and Gaza, women will need to play an important role in the implementation of any new accord between Israel and Palestine, Braudo-Bahat said. Her organization’s partnership with its Palestinian counterpart, Women of the Sun, has remained steadfast, even after learning that her co-founder, Vivian Silver, 74, was murdered by Hamas on Oct. 7.

“We continue our plans—we work together, and we don’t hide it,” she said. “It might be dangerous to the Women of the Sun, but they are so courageous.”

Although many Palestinians want peace, for others, “peace is normalization,” a member of Women of the Sun wrote to Foreign Policy via WhatsApp, choosing to go by the initials M.H. to preserve her anonymity and safety. Some Palestinians think that “it’s something shameful to be dealing with Israel,” she added, because it could imply that the Israelis’ treatment of, and policies toward, Palestinians are tolerable.

“I believe we should actively engage and collaborate, even if some label it as normalization,” M.H. said. “I am committed to working toward a better future for us.”

International law is on the side of these women. United Nations Security Council Resolution 1325, adopted unanimously more than 23 years ago, urges all member states to increase the participation of women in peace and security efforts, and highlights women’s essential role in preventing war, protecting civilians, and negotiating lasting peace.

Despite Israel’s deteriorating track record with regard to women’s rights and roles as decision-makers, women are involved in the war as politicians, members of the military and civilians. Women in politics have made important advances for gender equity, although among the 32 cabinet ministers sworn in a year ago, only five were women. One of those women ministers was dismissed amid the recent closure of the Ministry for the Advancement of Women.

The reality for women in Gaza is far more challenging when it comes to holding leadership positions. Women generally do not participate in public political activities or hold public office, although Hamas appointed 23-year old Isra al-Modallal as its first female spokesperson in November. She told the Guardian newspaper that she is not a member of Hamas or any political party.

At the start of the conflict, Hamas had just one woman, Jamila al-Shanti, 68, serving as part of the organization’s 15-member political bureau. Al-Shanti, who was also a founder of Hamas’s women’s movement, died in an Israeli airstrike on Oct. 19.

“You can hear amazing rhetoric and lip service, even from the Palestinian leadership,” Dr. Dalal Iriqat, an assistant professor at the Arab American University in the West Bank, told Foreign Policy. “But when it comes to practice, I always find a scarcity of women in decision-making.”

Women’s organizations in the Palestinian territories and in Israel have a rich history of political engagement, however. Palestinian women created social structures such as health clinics and orphanages for displaced Palestinians following the 1948 Arab-Israeli War. Following the Six-Day War in 1967, with traditional political structures in tatters and both Gaza and the West Bank under Israeli occupation, women of every social class stepped up.

It was through the networks they formed that a new cadre of women activists emerged as a force in December 1987, when Palestinian frustration with Israeli rule broke out in a popular uprising that became known as the First Intifada, or “shaking off.” Underlying this largely nonviolent Palestinian struggle was a collective social, economic, and political mobilization led by women.

Palestinian political leadership acknowledged women’s centrality in the Intifada, which paved the way for negotiations with Israel when it included three women—Suad Amiry, Zahiria Kamal, and Hanan Ashrawi—as part of the delegation that participated in the Middle East peace talks that culminated with the Madrid Conference in October 1991.

Ultimately, though, exiled Palestinian Liberation Organization leaders shunted the Madrid framework to begin secret negotiations with Israel that resulted in the security-focused Oslo Accords and the establishment of the Palestinian Authority. Under their leadership, Israeli occupation, and the failures of the Oslo Accords, democratic ideals and women’s rights eroded.

Israel and the United States have discussed a potential role for the Palestinian Authority in Gaza after the military operation. The Palestinian Authority has three women ministers, including its minister for women’s affairs, though women still struggle for equal opportunities and freedom from violence.

“Women usually refrain from being [an] activist in politics,” said an activist in the West Bank who withheld her name for security reasons. “Women are frightened to be involved in political activities, because they will be put in jail or be subjected to any kind of violence.” And the conditions are much worse for women when funding is restricted, as well as under Hamas, she said.

Serena Awad, a Gazan nonprofit worker who is now living in Rafah, told Foreign Policy that Gazan women are directing and managing many aspects of the humanitarian response. These women work for the United Nations as well as in health, cultural, child protection, human rights, sports, and legal organizations.

“I have lived through six aggressions, and every time, I wait for my turn to die,” said 24-year-old Awad. “What I want the world to know is that women in Gaza are like any other women—we study, go to work, have our own family, but we suffer.”

Israeli and Palestinian women working as peacebuilders say they need more international support. Women’s organizations are notoriously underfunded in the best of times, with only 0.4 percent of global gender-related funding going directly to women’s rights organizations, according to calculations by the Association for Women’s Rights in Development.

During crises, women’s rights often take a back seat. Women of the Sun’s 2024 budget is approximately $100,000, and Women Wage Peace’s budget is approximately $1 million, according to the organizations’ representatives.

Women’s groups are more likely to be effective during negotiations and during the implementation of recovery programs when they have access to external funding. During the peace process between Sudan and South Sudan, for example, South Sudanese women were highly mobilized as delegates, but some had to pause their involvement so they could go back to earning money.

In addition to funding, democratic countries have a role to play by insisting on women’s participation in negotiations, said M.H. of the Women of the Sun. She and other peacebuilders say that the United States and the United Nations should be more active in promoting women as counterparts, negotiators, and experts.

“By will, things can happen,” M.H. told Foreign Policy “And if the US says it [that women should be involved in negotiations], it can happen.”.

Talks convened by Qatar, the United States, and Egypt to end the conflict between Hamas and Israel are underway. These countries and other regional players—including Jordan, Israel, and the Palestinian Authority, have previously created national action plans that recognize the unique impact of war on women and their crucial role in promoting peace, culminating in 107 countries worldwide forming national action plans to empower women.

Still, news coverage reveals little or no evidence of efforts by these countries to promote women’s participation in the Israel-Hamas conflict.

The U.S. State Department is “working to ensure the expertise of women from civil society and in government is incorporated in any process related to the current conflict in Gaza,” wrote a spokesperson in an email.

If the political will for participation exists, both Israelis and Palestinians have a robust list of women advocates from which to draw for official and nonofficial negotiations and discussions. A diverse list of 12 Israeli and Palestinian women who are qualified to participate in negotiations was provided by the 1325 Project run by members of  Women Lawyers for Social Justice—known in Israel as Itach Ma’aki—to the U.S. Embassy and other embassies and international bodies.

“At least one person will be engaging in Track 2 and 3 efforts, and she was approached through us by an international body,” said 1325 project co-director Netta Loevy, referring to nonofficial negotiations and consultations.

Braudo-Bahat, meanwhile, urged policymakers to involve women in discussions now—not after violence ends. “The day after the war is yesterday … we need to start now,” she said.

Back in Gaza, the water tastes like poison; it’s freezing, and Awad, the 24-year-old nonprofit worker, keeps losing weight. She asked almost a dozen Gazan women leaders what they think should happen to resolve the war and to ensure that women participate in negotiations.

No one could give her an answer. They were busy responding to humanitarian needs, and telecommunication and internet services were out.

“Nothing has changed, but what can we do about it? All we can do is waiting and praying for this to end,” Awad wrote to Foreign Policy through WhatsApp, which only works for her about once every four days.

Iriqat, the Arab American University professor, has one wish: “That someone considers that if women are in charge, and involved, a more strategic agreement could hold.”

[day-drawn-blog]

Part IV: There is more to do and I still want to live

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- This is set in Act I

Part IV - LOTS of angst and sadness and jealousy and fluff.

Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace

Part V: our futures bound, our bodies known

Part VI : these ain't my sins, I' broke my chains

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours?

Part VIII: your blood like wine, invites me in

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

----------

The next morning you woke up. It took you a while to remember last night. You gasped and turned around. Your bed was empty. You were the only one. Your nocturnal visitor had vanished into the night air. Was he even there last night, or did you dream it all? Somewhere in the corner of your turbulent heart, you knew, he had gone back to his paramour. Which was not you. Before the pain of that thought drove you mad, you decided to distract yourself. After all, he never made any promises to you.

Time to get on with it.

The day was weary. You were finding it increasingly difficult to ignore the air between Shadowheart and Astarion. Every glance they shared, every smile was laced with poison for you. You prayed and hoped this would pass. You were the hero. You were the one who would lead them to safety, to the end of this perilous journey. It was a quest for salvation for all of you. And then you were all ambushed.

Time to focus on violence.

That should get your mind off of them. Except, Shadowheart was cornered, and while Astarion was supposed to target another, he defied the plan - to shoot at her attacker leaving himself open to a powerful spell that inflicted several wounds on him. He fell from his station. Drops of his blood splattered on Shadowheart's pale pretty face, down from where he stood.

Your heart had stopped.

Shadowheart shrieked, naturally to see him in pain so. Instantly she cast Santuary on him and incinerated the enemy with her radiance spell. You could feel her vengeance in the intensity with which she cast her spell. They then proceeded to embrace each other, her trying to heal him, and him finding solace in her arms.

You felt your world go blank.

Was there really a point to any of this? What was it, again. Your vision blurry, everything seemed to have slowed down. Or maybe just you. Karlach and Wyll were nearby. Flashes of spells and clash of swords. That's all you heard. Reckless abandon. That is what you wanted to feel. To make it worth something. To be seen, maybe. To be valued, to be needed. Or not be needed at all.

You cared not for your spell magic. It was time to feel the rage delivered through your own hands. Slashing, kicking, swinging your pact weapon. The feel of hitting a mortal enemy, splattering of blood around you. you could hear Karlach yell. Why? Oh, is that blood? Is that yours? Somebody bludgeoned you. Because being able to hit, meant being able to take a hit. Another punch to your face. This one you felt. You lost your footing.

This was fun.

Bring it on. See what I got. I will give it back to you. I have seen worse. I have felt worse. I have nothing more to lose. I will take you down with me. That's what raced through your mind. You hit harder, faster and with more venom than before. Killing with your own hands. You never enjoyed it before. Where is this rage coming from. You were no barbarian. You could feel the Hellish Rebuke coursing through your own body. you hit. And was hit back. Thrown back. Several times you landed on the floor. And got back up.

And then you felt hot. Warm. You had been hit with a fire spell.

You heard Wyll yell out. You could feel Karlach going into Rage. You knew the battle was won. You smiled, and you fell. For the last time that day. The last thing you remember seeing was Karlach cradling you, and Astarion running towards you from the distance. You couldn't make out what his face looked like. "Serves you right. Watch your only source of food disappear." you thought. You smiled, even if you were in pain.

The next thing you remember is Karlach nursing you in your tent.

Everything hurt. Pain all over. Wrapped in badages all over. You wondered what went down after your...recklessness. Karlach seemed really sad. Worried. "Thank the gods you are awake! What were you thinking?!" You smiled weakly. "Laezel has been going on and on about how impressed she was with your battle field prowess. "Ah.. Laezel, she would be...I'm glad".

After much fussing by Karlach, and Gale, and Shadowheart and basically everyone, who came to express their concern and relief or awe in your battle prowess or chastise you for your recklessness, you were relieved to get some quiet time. In which you wondered, where was the man, who mattered the most.

Typical. A vampire, only thinks of himself. and then suddenly, you remembered the look of pure horror on his face as you blacked out. But was he impressed? Was he worried? Did you get, ....his attention at last? You needed to know, if you were seen, at last.

If you mattered. To him. At all.

You decided to trudge outside in the cool night air. Everyone was finally asleep from all the exhaustion. It was a clear sky. Perhaps it is a great time to find a nice little piece of nature all to yourself. To take in the solitude.

You walked, slowly in the quiet night.

A little away from camp, you saw a shadowy figure. Almost predatory, walking towards you. Unmistakable.

So there he was.

He wasn't with shadowheart tonight? Maybe he had gone to hunt since, you weren't available. Your heart skipped a beat. There he was, out hunting. Was he scared he almost lost you? Was he finally worried about you? You wondered how the conversation would go. You had no idea why you did what you did, nor how he would react. You braced yourself.

But he said nothing at all.

He approached you. His face shone briefly in the moonlight. His eyes were cold. His shoulders brushed yours but he didn't stop. His glance was smouldering. Steely. But he said not a word and walked straight past.

You watched his back, through the light and darkness. Wait. You wanted to know, what he felt... "Are, you ... okay, Astarion? I saw you getting hurt earlier." Silence. Then he stopped and turned. You could hear your heart beat.

"Me? I am very glad to be alive you see. I do not want to just, end it all. Despite what my life has been so far, I still want to live." he looked at you with disdain.

You were taken aback.

You had been chastised by Wyll and to some extend Shadowheart, for your recklessness. But why did this one, cut through your heart?

"That's not... what I was ... "

But, is that what you were doing? Or is that what he thinks you were doing. Either way, you felt, ashamed. You would surely never. You had promised to be the Hero and Savior to others who needed saving. You wanted to love those that needed it. No. He was not right. It was not true. You won't let it be true.

You found your voice.

"Is that what you think I was doing? ha. I bet you got all worried, thinking your only source of higher blood would disappear. isn't it?" Your voice was laced with bitterness.

"And is that what you think of me?" His face was in the shadows. You could not see the glare in his eyes, but you could feel the disdain in his voice. "Well, in that case, maybe it is time for our nightly trysts to come to an end".

No. I didn't mean that.

You felt gripped by a sudden fear. No. Do not cast me aside. That is my only use to you. Do not take that away from me too. Please. That is not what I meant or wanted. That is the only time you look at me. You know of my existence. Only way I am needed by you. Only time I am wanted by you. No. You could feel tears choking you.

You couldn't speak. So he turned and resumed walking back to camp.

You turned too and then you broke down. You could not stop your tears. You felt so sorry. So very sorry for yourself. You almost lost yourself today, for this man. Why? Did you just want to be seen that badly. Only to be thrown away entirely. You watched the tears drop on your hands, and you knelt on the ground with your hands propping you up. Nothing you did would ever matter.

This was the bitter truth you so desperately wanted to deny. You never mattered to begin with. You were nobody to him. And you almost died for him. How could you hate yourself so much? Why would you not value yourself. Was he worth all that? You will never be Shadowheart. For it is she, who was in his heart and mind. You were just a convenient transaction.

You felt warm hands, from behind.

Hands that held you up. As you cried your eyes out. You were held in an tight embrace. As if the person wanted to take all your pain away. The harder your cried, the tighter you were embraced. You were found, by someone. Someone was there. Someone cared. That's all that mattered to you at that instant. You didn't care who it was. You were grateful it was...someone. You absorbed all the warmth in their body, and you felt the support of their broad chest against your back, as they buried their face in your neck from behind.

You felt his soft caress on your neck.

You felt so happy, that you started crying even more. You felt eternal bliss, you felt cared for, seen and you felt loved. You felt wanted. Your yearnings, came rushing out in salted tears. You wanted to laugh and smile, but you cried instead. Tears of joy, if only you could tell him that.

"I am sorry. I did not know. I am sorry. What can I do. How can I help you, please tell me a way." he whispered. "I cannot see you like this. I need you. Yes I need you. But not for your blood. You are our salvation. You protect us. From our personal demons. And in Wyll's case, quite literally".

You finally laughed a little.

He loosened his grasp a bit at that. Realizing, that the worst may have passed. but he did not let go entirely. Still resting his head next to you, kneeling on the ground with you, he held on. "I will one day, somehow, give you a reason to live on. Something you will want to hold on to. I promise you. Can't you wait a little bit. I don't know what that is yet. But you have my word".

Those were the last words you heard that night.

Because your pain and exhaustion and happiness came crashing on you at once. You felt your consciousness slip away. You felt swpt up, carried. You heard Karlach on the way. "What did you do to her Astarion! You better not have hurt her! she was already in bad shape. Did you make her cry?! Why are her eyes so swollen?" You drifted to a very sweet dream that night. Content somehow.

Part V: our futures bound, our bodies known

[loelysian]

marmoris (chapter 3)

(n.) the shining surface of the ocean

chapter 1 chapter 2

word count: 4.2k

summary: after a dangerous rescue mission led by namor, you safely make it back to talokan. things should be alright between the two of you. after all, you’re home safe because of him. why aren’t they?

note: since this one shot was written by me, a jewish arab person, it is hinted that y/n is also from those cultures but if you are not, that is fine. it is never explicitly stated and i don't plan on doing so in future chapters. feel free to apply your own experiences to the scenarios i've written about. please keep in mind that i am not fluent in yucatec so i've used a translator for any scenes in talokan. if you find i've upset you, please comment and let me know so i can fix it and apologize. i do not mean to offend anybody. fair warning, there are kissing scenes in this chapter so if that is not your cup of tea, i wouldn't read this. i hope you enjoy.

warnings: near-death experiences, talk of death, mentions of wounds that are not for the faint of heart and violence.

Someone had cut into the ship—that much you knew as the red, angry blinking lights and repetitive ‘warning: someone has breached the landing pad’ rang in the cockpit loud and clear. Panicking, Shuri tried everything she could to keep the ship afloat since you would be making direct contact with land instead of water when it inevitably crashed. Distantly in the air, you smelt what you thought might be smoke as you noticed the entire right side of the ship had been cut into, leaving a dangerous opening where the wing should have been. Muyal had her eyes closed, the tips of her fingers a dangerous white as she gripped onto the edge of her seat tightly, praying you would stay in the air.

Okoye and Shuri were shouting but you could barely hear them over the beeping. You had no idea what to do as you’d never so much as touched Wakandan tech in your life, but you decided to ask.

“Do you need any help?” you yelled, leaning against the back of Shuri’s seat as the ship began to tilt to the side. Bad move. You quickly sat back down and buckled yourself in, trying your hardest not to move.

“Just stay still!” Shuri begged as she pressed numerous buttons on the control panel to no avail. Nothing seemed to be working and you knew the ship was going down soon with you and everyone in it still inside.

You dared a glance out of the front of the ship and noticed Namor had vanished which worried you more than it should have. Had he been the one to damage your ship? That couldn’t be. He was right in front of your very eyes when the alarm system had gone off.

Ramonda and Riri seemed to be talking to each other in a hurry just as Shuri and Okoye were until you saw him.

From underneath the balcony of the palace, you watched as Namor flew up toward the cracked window with his winged feet, throwing three water-bombs directly toward Ramonda and Riri. The explosion had been bigger than you were anticipating and the last thing you heard before the four of you were emerged in water was Shuri’s screams.

Somewhere in the mess of the ship crashing which had effectively thrown you into a giant torpedo-like wave, slamming you against numerous shards of glass from the window and broken parts from the damaged ship, you’d lost your water-mask.

You ended up on barren, dry land several feet from the water but because your body was still in the process of healing itself from the several deep wounds you’d received, you couldn’t drag yourself into the water to catch your breath. You felt like a beached whale and were aware the air you were desperately trying to inhale sounded like you were inches from death.

There hadn’t been a time before in your life where you were almost certain you were going to die. You weren’t sure why you felt so calm—at ease. The finality of it all normally scared you, but as you laid on the sandy shore of Wakanda, you felt at peace. Since the sun was setting, you mustered enough strength to position yourself on your back so you could stare at the sky. You could still see the black smoke from the shipwreck and somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought of Shuri, Muyal and Okoye, hoping they were okay—that they survived. You could feel the wind brushing against your near-dry body much like a sea of kelp and listened as three birds circled you from above, cawing distantly. In a way, it helped ground you.

You weren’t sure if you’d healed yourself completely or the pain was too much for your body to process but everything from your neck down was numb. Maybe you’d been paralyzed from the impact of the fall. You barely registered the fact that you were crying, a tear from the corner of your eye cascading down your face like a lone raindrop on a glass window. Namor was the only person you were thinking about now—his sweet brown eyes, strong, calloused hands moving up and down your body, the sound of his laughter which you found you’d do just about anything to hear, the way he cared for you like no one else could. Your vision was beginning to dim but you continued to watch as the sky turned an orangey-pink, the sun dipping below the horizon.

Since your lungs lacked the air you so desperately needed, you felt the strong urge to cough but couldn’t find the strength to do so. Somewhere on your left side, you were beginning to regain feeling—your nerves were working again, and you were almost certain you’d been pierced by something as you were falling from the sky—pierced by something deep. You could feel the shards of glass in your hand as you tried to detach the bracelet Namor had given you—you felt the urge to hold it close one last time. It was a struggle, but eventually you got it off of your wrist with minimal pain. It was as beautiful as it was the first time you’d seen it. It made you think of the first time you’d met Namor—he had been wearing the very bracelet you were holding underneath his lab coat. It made you think of your wedding night and how close he held you after the ceremony concluded, promising to take care of you for the rest of his life. It reminded you of Talokan and how much you cared for your people.

At the tips of your toes, you began to feel the tide rolling in, the warm water inviting you back home, but you were far too weak to move, let alone stand. You had already accepted your fate and as much as it pained you to leave Namor, there was nothing you could do.

On your right, you could hear people shouting to each other in Yucatec but brushed it off, thinking you were likely hallucinating from the lack of air to your brain.

The water was getting closer to you, though, washing up and down your legs like kisses, sweet and warm until it reached your arms. It was calm and inviting. To your right, you noticed an octopus doing its best to lift debris off of your legs while a school of crabs worked to cut the net that had tangled around your shoulders. Despite the exhaustion you felt, you smiled knowing Namor had sent them for you.

When you were in the ocean, you were able to heal yourself a lot faster. Although the salt from the water stung, you could feel your body working to heal itself thanks to the vibration-infused liquid, pushing the glass out of your hands and closing up the gash in your side. Once the water was up to your neck, you prepared for complete submersion and instinctively held your breath despite being able to breathe underwater. As soon as you were completely underwater, your eyes opened and you gave the orange-red octopus a pat on its head as it worked as fast as it could. Your heart was thrumming in your chest as you tried to recall why you were here—your body was in shock though you weren’t aware of it and suddenly, as you noticed the blood on the surface of the water, you remembered how you’d gotten here. Shuri. The explosion.

Everything came back to you in a burst of energy and immediately, you sat up in a panic before you swam as fast as you could to check on Shuri—you had to make sure she was okay. She had to be. She had to.

As soon as you got to the shipwreck, both seats were empty and void—nobody was there—but what caught your eye was the fact that Shuri’s seat was crushed. You dove into the water in search of her, hoping there was a clue—anything at all that told you where she might be but there was nothing.

Suddenly, a strong pair of arms came up from behind you and held onto you, tightly. From his hands alone and the jewelry that adorned his wrists, you knew they belonged to Namor. Oh, he had come back for you. He’d made sure you were okay. At once, you turned around and threw your arms over his shoulders, the water giving you a boost as your lips intertwined with his. It was messy and desperate, your teeth colliding with his but damnit, you didn’t care—you wanted, no, needed to be close to him—to feel him as he sighed against you, his breath stuttering when you nipped his bottom lip with your teeth.

It reminded you of the very first time the two of you had kissed. It had been a rush of emotions, a sense of urgency, but something like love was what felt most prominent to you. He’d taken you to a beach in Carlsbad, California—one that you hadn't been to before—and you’d climbed down the rocky cliff together, hands entangled, watching as the beds of kelp washed up on shore. That evening, he’d made you a picnic and a beautiful bed of seafood with the freshest lobster you’d ever had. You could tell by the way he’d been acting that he had something to tell you—he kept stealing glances every time he thought you weren’t looking, a soft smile resting on his face. For the first time since you’d met him, Namor looked at ease. He seemed content. You’d dared to ask him.

“What was all this for?” it hadn’t been the execution you’d been hoping for and you found yourself cringing at what you’d said, but Namor’s smile only grew.

“Sometimes, I want to appreciate you—to let you know that you’re the most important person in the world to me, but I don’t know how to say it, so I show it instead.” and you thought that was a pretty good answer but sometimes, you found yourself confused as to why he’d chosen you. Why he spent his free evenings with you. Why he laughed at your jokes and watched your favorite movies and listened to your favorite songs and tried everything you liked.

Suddenly, you'd found yourself overwhelmed with an unfamiliar sensation that brewed deep in your stomach, something akin to want.

“Can I kiss you?” you had asked him that night. You still remembered the date, the song that had been playing and the way his deep, brown eyes lit up at your question.

At his shy nod, you surged forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt and shut your eyes. With the candles glowing beside you, the moment felt magical. You found that Namor was a passionate kisser. He loved to make you feel. You stayed pressed against him even after the sun set behind the trees, cuddling into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around you, whispering words of love and adornment into your hair as you felt yourself dozing off. That night, when he was certain you’d fallen asleep, in a hushed tone, he promised aloud that he’d never leave you. What he didn’t know was that you’d been awake.

Today, as Namor held you in his arms like you were the most fragile thing he’d ever picked up, he whispered into your hair;

“Ma'atech asab a dejaré, in eek'e' (i will never leave you again, my star).” much like the night your souls had connected for the very first time, he spoke to you of promises you knew would never be broken.

You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to leave with him, to head back to Talokan but you couldn’t find it in yourself to go just yet. You couldn’t leave Wakanda without seeing Shuri alive. You didn’t even need to talk to her—you just wanted a sign—something to know she was safe.

“We have to go, in yakunaj (my love).” you were squirming in his arms but his grip was persistent. In the back of your mind, you knew he was right. If you were to stay, you would be dead by sunrise, but Shuri was your friend. You felt you had to know she was okay—that she’d survived the shipwreck.

“No!” you screamed, “I have to make sure she’s safe!” you were no match against Namor and eventually the two of you were pulled deeper and deeper in the water. If there was one thing he knew about you, you rarely gave up. You kept fighting, even if your arms were burning from the excursion of energy your body didn't have.

“Who, in yakunaj (my love).” he spoke calmly, his words calculated. Namor had no doubt you were in shock, especially since you’d nearly just died so he treated you with care, demanding his army to wait until he was there in person before they retrieved you. He had to do it himself.

“The princess! Shuri! She- she was on the ship with me. I don’t know if they survived,” you cried, but you were exhausted, the weight of what had just happened taking a toll on you. You collapsed against your husband's chest, falling into his arms as your eyes closed in unison. Namor pushed a piece of hair out of your face, kissing the top of your head slowly before he signaled for his men to follow him.

He was taking you home.

You dreamt of San Diego from an angle you weren’t as familiar with anymore. Of surfing, remembering the feeling in your stomach as you paddled toward shore, knowing you’d caught a wave. Of your parents and their smiles and the drives the three of you would take together every weekend. Every Friday when you got home from school, your small backpack had already been packed for the trip. You and your parents never had a final destination in mind. You just drove wherever you wanted to. Since you lived two hours from the coast, oftentimes you’d end up in a small beach town with family-owned businesses and vacant houses, all vacation homes waiting for summer when the owners would come visit for a week. You always proposed to camp on the beach but your parents were more keen on staying in a hotel that overlooked the water instead. You couldn’t find it in yourself to complain and on nights when you couldn’t fall asleep, you snuck out onto the balcony and took the stairs by two so you could get to the water.

The beach at night had always been peaceful to you. Since you were the only person there, you could walk as far and long as you wanted but you always made sure to return before sunrise so your parents wouldn’t worry. They always knew where you had been though since there was a sandy trail that led to your bed.

In the mornings, you remembered hating how long your parents would take to get ready for the day. You practically lived in your swimsuit during the weekend and you tried your best not to grow impatient as your parents sipped their coffee on the balcony, watching the waves crash onto shore.

“Mom,” you drew out. “What if I went by myself and swam for a bit while you guys ate breakfast and watched tv.” you had only been seven at the time, barely tall enough to reach the sink to wash your hands but you were convinced you were grown up enough to do this.

“Y/n,” your mother held you close to her chest. “You cannot do everything alone,” what she’d said had stuck with you for most of your life.

You were a rather independent person but whenever you were growing overwhelmed, you reminded yourself of what your mother said.

She always knew how to make you feel better.

When you woke up, you were in Namor’s bed by yourself. You tried to sit up, but your side was still aching from the wound you’d gotten back in Wakanda. That’s right. It was all coming back to you now. You remembered Nakia taking you with her, joking with Riri and sharing stories with Shuri by the water. Shuri. Something akin to failure stung in your chest. You still weren’t sure if she’d made it out alive. You sighed in frustration, staring up at the drawing-adorned ceiling Namor painted during his free time. You were still exhausted from the battle and thought another nap couldn’t hurt, so you shut your eyes and let sleep take over.

When you woke up, you were alone once more, but the side of your stomach was feeling better so you decided you were going to find your husband and get some answers. You had many questions after all.

Wrapping a blanket around your small frame, you headed out into the hallway and started swimming to where you thought he might be though you ran into a small crowd of people who obviously weren’t expecting your presence. Their faces lit up and each of them bowed before one of the men in the front shouted for everyone to hear;

“Le Reina táan u yaajal! Alegrar u (the queen is awake! rejoice)!” he cried, arms in the air as everyone began to clap. Despite being in a hurry, you smiled in their direction and pressed your hand to the man's shoulder. Maybe he knew where Namor was.

“Yuumbo'otik Nib óolal, chéen ba'ale' yaan jump'éel k'áat chi' (thank you, thank you but i do have a question).” you spoke in yucatec. The man nodded with a smile.

“Je'el ba'alake' in Reina. Je'el ba'alake' (anything my queen. anything).” you thanked him and rose your voice slightly, hoping other passerbyers might know the answer if he did not.

“A wojel wáaj tu'ux yaan k'uj ' túun Ku'uk'ulkan (do you know where k’uk’ulkan is)?” you asked him. His eyes brightened and he nodded.

“Mencionó junp'éel múuch'tambale' le tu chi' u asistir bejla'e'. Kun yaantal ichil áaktuno'ob (he mentioned a meeting he had to attend to. he should be in the caves)” the man replied happily. You nodded to him in thanks and took off toward the caves, hoping you’d find a spare water-mask on the way.

Hidden in the shadows of the cave, Namor, Namora and Attuma discussed the war they’d started with Wakanda. Partly, it had been because of your kidnapping. Namor had no idea what their plans were with you and he’d refused to let you become a spoil of war so he’d gone after you himself with his most trusted fighters. Since one of his guards had also been killed during Shuri’s rescue and someone he knew he couldn’t trust knew of Talokan’s location, he had no choice but to attack. It had been many years since he’d gone to battle and he’d never faced an enemy before that harbored vibranium like he and his people did. He’d believe Talokan was the sole nation with access to it for many years before the idea of a vibranium detector was created. That was why he’d convinced himself he had to kill the scientist. If she possessed such knowledge and the likes of the government were after it, he couldn’t let them discover his home.

As their ruler, he refused to put them in harm's way.

Namor knew the size of your heart and what your reaction would be if he’d told you of his plans so he didn’t. Though the risk of it spilling out to you was strong, he’d foolishly thought he’d had it under control until you were kidnapped in the midst of his meeting with Ramonda. Something he couldn’t place was telling him that meeting with her was a bad idea, but he couldn’t decipher why. Maybe it had been because he’d had the scientist and that he’d given her strict instructions to only blow the conch shell if she’d had her, but he went anyway. Attuma told him she likely knew about Shuri being missing and that he had the upper hand—she would want to bargain.

That was why he’d gone.

When he’d gotten back, you’d been gone and he couldn’t help but scream out, cursing himself for allowing it to happen. He’d blamed himself—how could he not? He knew how curious you were. That you were going to get to the bottom of things one way or another. You were a scientist after all, it was in your nature to research—to study the problem at hand no matter the risk.

That was why he felt he owed you now—the protection was already his to give to you once you’d spoken your vows to him but as he watched you breathe in and out in your shared room, tracing the side of your face, he was never going to let anybody hurt you ever again. You were his and he was yours, the binding of your love written in the stars—something nothing could break. He loved you and it scared him. He felt like a child again, so naive yet he had been alive for many, many years. He felt safe with you as silly as it sounded. Someone people often thought of as a god felt safe with a mortal, someone he’d met on land who, despite what he thought, made him feel complete.

Namor wasn’t sure if he believed in past lives, but he was certain the two of you had loved each other once before. People often told him he stared at you like you hung the stars, that in ways, you had. Where he had been serious, you made him smile. Where he had been rough, you held him in between your hands and loved him. You let him be a person, not the great ruler his people regarded him as. He let himself be yours.

He hadn’t been expecting you to burst through one of the many pools in the cave, a blanket adorning your shoulders as well as the pointed-ear jewelry you had been given as a means of respect for him, a way to prove you were queen. Despite himself, Namor smiled and watched as you pulled yourself out of the water, strapping the water-mask onto your face.

Namora and Attuma noticed you and bowed where they were with knowing smiles on their faces.

“In ujo' (my moon), what brings you here?” he asked, wearing the same look of fondness he often had in conversations pertaining to you.

“I think you owe me an explanation.” you said, crossing your arms. You tried to remain strong as you hated confrontation, something Namor knew. He rose a brow, eyeing you curiously.

“For what?” he asks you.

“What did Riri do?” you knew what she’d told you was likely true, but you wanted to hear it from him—you wanted to hear his side.

He looked conflicted but as his wife and queen, you felt you deserved to know the truth.

“No more keeping secrets.” you pushed, hoping he’d give you an answer. Finally, he exhaled and led you to a corner far away from Namora and Attuma so the two of you could have some privacy.

You were surprised when he leaned in to kiss your forehead, but you shut your eyes, basking in the attention. He was a head taller than you so you found you had to stand on your toes so he could reach you. He’d always found humor in the fact that he was taller than you.

“What do you want to know, in yakunaj (my love).” he whispered, his breath hot against your face. The tips of your noses were threatening to touch, brushing against each other as he carded his hand through your hair. Like always, you leaned into the touch, pressing your hand against the back of his.

“What you wanted with Riri Williams.” you couldn’t reach his eyes as you stared at your feet.

“She was the one who crafted the vibranium-detector. If more of those were to be made, it would threaten the existence of our home. I couldn’t let that stand and took it upon myself to find her. The princess of Wakanda just so happened to be with her.” he whispered, using his free hand to hold your chin. He wanted to see your eyes, to look into them so he knew how you were feeling.

Deep down, you knew there had been no other way. Had you been in his shoes as the sole ruler of Talokan, you were sure you would have done the same but still, you felt for her.

“Is something wrong?” he asked you, his lips brushing against yours.

You shook your head, growing limp against his touch. You were still exhausted from the aftermath of the battle and wanted nothing more than for him to join you in bed for a nap but something felt wrong—off.

The air felt stunted, the water on your feet felt strange—cold rather than the warmth you had been used to. You desperately searched your lover’s eyes, hoping he noticed it too only to find that they were closed. He held his head and you watched the goosebumps form up and down his arms.

As you began to ask if we were okay, Attuma approached the both of you, panting and out of breath, his face full of concern and what you thought might resemble anger.

“Ba'ax le jéelo'? Ba'ax ku yúuchul (what is it? what’s wrong)” you asked Attuma, your voice full of worry.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Namor beat him to it.

“They’re coming. Wakanda is coming.”

tag list : @eerievixen @ichigimm @avsphroeg @borderline1bored @gamorxa @zeeader

[monk-core]

I am just a random christian but on this season of tu Bishvat I want to send a sincere wish for the peace and safety of every Jewish person, in every country. It would be blind and foolish not to see how many people are using the plight of Palestine as an excuse to show their hatred of the Jewish people. It will never be okay.

I pray for a new year full of peace from war and from strife and from hatred, everywhere, for every Jewish person. I can’t pretend saying that isn’t fraught right now, but I truly believe that to work for the peace of all people beyond the reaches of state and political violence is not only possible, but the only possible thing.

I wish for our roots, all of ours, to grow deeper and stronger because they are growing together. My peace and safety is Jewish peace and safety is Palestinian peace and safety is everyone’s peace and safety. May we have a year of continuing, despite all odds, to grow in our respect and compassion for one another, in growing closer and growing together. May these divisions be healed and these wars be ended. May the walls and bombs and the rubble give way to the trees.

I don’t know. There are things about this year’s events that I will never understand. But despite it all, despite it all. May these trees grow.

🌾🍇🫒

[blues-valentine]

the Alina debate going on reminds me of the Katniss debate even years later. there’s people that in this date and age think Gale was a better choice …..some people hate to see girls that went through imaginable levels of trauma find themselves a calm and quiet life with a man that brings them safety and peace.

These two cases are pretty similar and with THG renaissance on social media lately the discussions about this subject are getting wildly inaccurate and lacking media literacy.

Alina and Katniss are similar in how they were just kids that had to grow up in a mess up world and take care of themselves alone. They both were thrown into a role way bigger than them. Deemed as holy and untouchable. Prayed as the sole savior of a nation, painted as a symbol. A role they’ve never felt prepared for and during all of that trauma and grief they just hoped for some normalcy beyond that chaos. Mal and Peeta represent comfort and security for each of them but still the choice to seek that peace creates controversy. I saw this amazing post (X) about how thinking Gale and Katniss should’ve ended up together is simply incorrect and a terrible interpretation of what the books and movies are telling you and similarly goes with Alina’s ending being sadly misunderstood.

People don’t get that Gale became everything he was fighting against. The thing Katniss was trying to run from. In his search to destroy the Capitol and eradicate the games he became too blinded by hatred and started justifying all that violence with the idea of revenge. He would easily switch off his humanity to justify the means in which he achieved those goals. He would’ve never been able to provide Katniss with the peace, safety and the healing she was searching. Peeta and Katniss both understood the trauma lived in the games and ultimately wanted the same thing: peace, get a hold to their humanity, move on from the pain. I still cannot comprended how people think Peeta is “boring” because he is by far one of the most complex characters but also, doesn’t Katniss deserve a mundane or “boring” life? One that isn’t pledge by chaos and trials? One that feels like a routine in the most full-filling way? Katniss getting that plus allowing herself to have kids — because she never said she didn’t want kids, she just didn’t want them to exist in a world in which the games existed, and she fought so it won’t ever happen again. Katniss deserves to have a peaceful life instead of feeling the burden of a role she has to play.

THG is still one of the most complex trilogies I’ve ever read. Katniss and Peeta’s love story isn’t typical but it’s true in its essence. Both were thrown into circumstances that only them would be able to understand and managed to find peace within each other. Their love was born from being able to give each other mutual understanding and comfort. Katniss is able to share her real feelings with Peeta, who sees her as Katniss and not as the symbol of rebellion. That guy, a kid himself too, who’s been used as a weapon to torment Katniss would give his life for her in a heart beat. His love for her is pure.

For Alina, her powers while they made her feel powerful at times, they were also a burden. They made her feel lost, confused, scared of herself and suicidal. Alina’s powers didn’t develop normally because she wasn’t raised as a normal Grisha. There’s a reason why the amplifiers are called a fetter and a collar. They were never meant to be seem as a positive thing. Alina’s whole journey has been filled with trauma and with the imposition of a role she had to play that went against her own freedom. Her powers made her a pawn. The title of the savior, the sun summoner, the queen, the Saint; those all were titles she did not ask for and she found a tremendous burden to perform. She said it herself multiple times. She felt like a fraud and people worshipping her made her feel like she was bigger than herself. Alina would’ve never been able to achieve her peace if she still had those powers and therefore would’ve never been truly free. I’m sorry, no one will ever convince me that Alina making the choice to remove herself from a world that has brought her so much trauma in exchange for a peaceful, mundane life in which she’s able to provide orphan kids just like her the love and security she didn’t get for herself (or for Mal) is not empowering. Her choice IS empowerment.

Mal, who was also a kid himself, had to deal with trauma, with the idea of being disposable and insignificant in a world that only valued those with powers or status. He was used as a weapon against Alina so he swears himself to be a weapon for Alina, because ultimately she is the only person he’ll fight and give his life for.

A thing that it’s similar to Katniss and Alina is that people are so convinced they should’ve healed from their trauma alone to be deemed more empowering. Why should they not be in the company of someone that brings them peace? Someone that makes them feel loved and comforted? Women are allowed to have character developed while also being with a love interest. Not all women have to stick to Hollywood’s propaganda of empowerment.

If you don’t understand why Alina and Katniss endings and the fundamental nature of their choices being about healing, and for Alina about the promise that her power lies in herself, on her own value, then you simply didn’t get it.

And no one can convince me this wasn’t a good, bittersweet but fulfilling ending for Alina:

[eretzyisrael]

by Hen Mazzig

My own family exemplifies this reality. Concurrent with the Holocaust in Europe, Jews in the Middle East faced violent dispossession just for being Jewish. My Iraqi grandmother was just a child in 1941 when she experienced the Farhud, a two-day pogrom against the Jewish population of Baghdad. During these days of antisemitic violence, my grandmother witnessed her best friend being raped and murdered in the streets of Iraq, just for being Jewish. Meanwhile, Tunisian Jews like my paternal grandfather were conscripted to detention camps and forced labor in a gulag, where conditions were barbaric.

Even though we and the world have seen all this before, Israel nevertheless committed to a ceasefire on November 21, an agreement that included an exchange of all hostages taken on October 7 as well as Hamas putting a stop to all missiles launched into Israel. Predictably, Hamas began firing rockets into Israel fifteen minutes into that ceasefire. They also slaughtered four Israelis on Nov. 30 in Jerusalem, and continued attacking Israeli soldiers in Gaza.

To those with genuine hearts who just want the suffering and carnage to stop, know that I am with you. I understand the hurt you are feeling and pray every day for an end to this war so we can begin the difficult process of healing and peace.

As hopeful as I am, I am also realistic: Hamas started this war on Oct. 7, and the only thing that guarantees an end to all the pain and suffering for Israelis and Gazans is for Hamas to lay down its weapons and release the 135 hostages.

Pressuring Israel, which is on a rescue mission to release its citizens from captivity and bring a group of barbaric death agents to justice, will do nothing to bring peace of mind to humanity or peace to the region.

I am certain that this is clear to many of those calling for a ceasefire. But much like the chant "from the river to the sea," the calls for "a ceasefire" have turned into another thinly veiled euphemism for the destruction of the Jewish state that is meant to fool the American public.

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

Prompt: “Thank you for always being by my side.”

Song: Til Forever Falls Apart - FINNEAS

For Reader x Tolya please?

No Peaceful End In Sight - Tolya Yul Bataar

Content Warnings: Canon Compliant Threat And Violence. No Beta/Proof Reading. Mentions Of Darkle Sparkles (boo).

So this is it,

It really feels like your at the end now. You're backed up and you've got nowhere to go. Tamar is doing her best to keep Nikolai moving, his close call with the Nichevo'ya has left him more than winded. But that doesn't stop him trying to make a wise crack while you're all fighting to get out. He never changes, and that is at least a comfort in these moments.

Tolya has a cut above his brow which is bleeding, the blood trickling down his face and across his cheekbone. You want to clean it away. You want to be able to stop and be soft, and help him the same way he has helped you over and over. But there is no time for softness, for small acts of mercy right now. It's all fight. Fight, and running, until the end.

that's how it ends

"The Darkling really packs a punch with those things, huh?" Nikolai asks between breaths, lumbering with Tamar's help not far behind Tolya and yourself.

"Call him Kirigan," you tell Nikolai, "allowing him such a title only gives him more power."

"I think titles aren't going to change much right now," Tamar states.

"You underestimate the power of words sister," Tolya says. You smile despite the pain in your shoulders and the ache from keeping moving when your body begged you to give in a long time ago. You knew Tolya would agree with you, he always seemed to on the things that mattered.

"I think we have bigger issues than words right now," Nikolai states.

"Call it treason if you want but I disagree with you," you say, pushing your shoulder against a door, but the frame is bent out of shape and the stone around it resembles the broken rubble you'd passed outside. You cannot tell if it was hit with some kind of explosion or if it was blocked intentionally, but either way it's not budging. Tolya joins you, putting his weight into the door but it only dislodges some dust from the impact wounds in the stone. You shake your head at him and he nods.

"Not this way," Tolya says.

"We are running out of options," Tamar says, trying to look less like she is the only reason Nikolai still stands.

You are about to suggest taking the time to heal Nikolai when you see the darkness gathering back the way you came, Tolya hears the spike in your heartbeat before he sees what causes it. "Saints," you whisper.

"If your a believer now might be the time to start praying," Nikolai says. "Might argue we would be late to the party on that," you retort. Nikolai laughs and Tamar winces, her own injuries no small thing. Nikolai louds a gun with one hand, not that it will do him any good, but he is going to go down swinging, like he always said he was. Tolya pulls his elbow back, giving himself a better range with his sword, Tamar spins an axe with the hand not on Nikolai's side and you steady yourself. "This is how we die, funny," you take a deep breath, "thought I would be more scared." You whistle. "Should I be worried about that? I guess I don't have the time to be worried, I guess it doesn't really matter if we are all about to die."

"Wanting to live and not being scared to die aren't mutually exclusive," Tolya reminds you.

“Thank you for always being by my side.” You tell him. He takes his eyes off the Nichevo'ya just long enough to look at you smiling at him for what might be the last time.

"I guess there's nothing more romantic than dying with your friends," Nikolai plasters a grin on his face, and you see the man he was when you met him, all fearless and far too cocky.

And I'm not sorry for myself

You don't want to die, but if you are to die, right here, right now, you could think of so many worse ways to go than surrounded by people who you would die for. "There is no one I would rather have beside me," Tamar says.

Nikolai pulls away from Tamar's hold, standing on his own, giving Tamar the space and ability to wield both her weapons in the face of their impending death. "Till the last," Nikolai says.

Tolya takes a swing and the darkness separates around his blade. There is nothing you can do to stop them, you know that. They are an unstoppable army of shadow connected to one of the strongest grisha history has ever seen. But that wouldn't stop any of you trying. You hear Nikolai's gunshots and combative words. You don't really process anything else, you feel the shadow pull you from your feet, throwing you against a wall so hard you feel the air torn from your lungs and when you hit the ground you cannot be sure if the dizzying and blurred vision is from the head trauma or the lack of oxygen. In the haze, you can make out Tolya as he hits the ground next to you, he is quick to his feet again, unstopping, unrelenting.

You wish you were all safe, you wish there was no war and no fight and you could be at peace surrounded by those you love, but that wasn't an option the Saints had for you, so knowing what you do and the ways things could have unfolded, you find it in yourself to be grateful, that you are at least besides him now.

I wouldn't wanna spend a minute loving anybody else

You get to your feet and you can hear Tamar choking but you cannot see for all the chaos. There is an explosion, knocking the remaining door frame from its place, and the stone shakes and some of it falls down beside the broken door but there is an arch of space between the rubble and the ceiling that gives way to the bright day light.

"Tolya?" comes a soft voice from the other side, "you in there?"

"Wylan?" Tolya chokes out.

"Thank the Saints, we thought we lost you," Jesper calls through. "Come on," he hurries, "move."

You see Tolya take another slice at the Nichevo'ya and it moves around him, all darkness and no substance, it is almost as if it had the awareness to be toying with him. You signal to Tamar to help Nikolai out, and the look she gives you shows all the disapproval she feels about that instruction. But you raise your weapon and run to stand beside Tolya, pressing your back to him and throwing haphazard slices into the darkness.

Tamar knows the quicker they get out, the quicker you and Tolya follow, so she does just that.

Tolya insists on you going first and you offer a hand as you help him out of the crumbled space in the wall.

"Shadow can still follow," Wylan reminds you all, before throwing something in the space. A bright white burst follows upon impact and the space they climbed through collapses. "So maybe we keep moving?"

"I owe you," Tolya tells Wylan, "again."

"Add it to the tally," Jesper jokes, "but add and run at the same time."

[koritea]

Hey there! Your FFXV OCs are really cool! Could you tell us more about them? I love learning about fan ocs from this game :)

OHH GOSH HI!!!!! THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!! I have so much lore on all my ocs this game drives me INSANE.

To give a quick rundown of the main three:

Fidei Carissime (roughly translated "Beloved Faith" from Latin) is the pink haired axemen I frequently draw with the chocobros!

He's the epitome of the "Lost Prince" character trope. His mom died shortly after his birth and his father (the king of some unnamed far off kingdom) had him handed off to a poor family just on the coast of Cleigne.

Hard times and a rise in the local daemon population forced the family to move into Insomnia when Fidei was 7, but at age 8 his adoptive parents were killed by a daemon attack while on a trip outside the wall.

Fidei spent a few years in the system before an older teen by the name of Salus took him under his wing and introduced him to a group of kids looking to make lives for themselves without spending forever in the orphanage.

Years later Fidei gets into the same highschool as Prince Noctis on merit, and through Prompto he's introduced to the chocobros and eventually joins the retinue.

And yes, they kiss. I'm a silly OC x canon shipper don't be mad at me they're cute!!

Calor Solis (roughly translated "Warmth of the Sun" from Latin) is a Crownsguard stationed to train new Kingsglaive soldiers after a traumatic experience rendered them ineffective in combat. Under the guidance of Cor Leonis, they trained Libertus and Luche personally in hand-to-hand and close quarters.

Calor is all sunshine and smiles. He's got a friendly disposition no matter the circumstances and is always willing to lend a hand - but never take his kindness for weakness. He's highly skilled with daggers and close quarters combat, and once you pass the threshold of violence, you'd better pray they're feeling generous.

PTSD can make her flighty in some situations, but if her loved ones are in danger there's nothing she won't do to get them to safety.

Calor is genderfluid and swaps between nicknames (Cal, Lor, and Oli) to denote what they're feeling at any given time.

Chrysalis!! She's the newest and the least fleshed out of my OCs, but she's actually based around some lore and HCs surrounding The Crystal and Bahamut from the game itself!

To put it shortly: The Crystal is a prison Bahamut used to trap the original sixth astral, Chrysalis. During the time of Ardyn's mission to heal the sick of the starscourge, Chrys was the Oracle's main line of communication to the astrals. Sympathetic to their cause, Chrys often extended her own powers to grant healing and strength to the two when it was needed.

When Bahamut came, there was upset within the astral planes, and through an unknown power, he struck down Chrysalis and trapped her in an aetheryte crystal. Using her as a battery for power, he fueled his own prophecy and ordained that Ardyn would not be king, setting the game's plotline into motion.

At the end of the game, in an alternate turn of events, Noctis winds up shattering the crystal in his fight with Ardyn, and inadvertently frees Chrysalis.

With her and Ardyn's help, they defeat Bahamut and Chrsyalis frees the Lucii from the ring so they may rest in peace.

There are background OCs, crossovers with @joyfullyacat 's ocs, tons more lore and situations I've put these three in, but that's the gist of it!

[eternal-echoes]

Prayer of the Faithful for the Day of Prayer for Peace in Our Communities

For an end to the violence perpetrated by harsh words, deadly weapons, or cold indifference. May our homes, our nation, and countries around the world become havens of peace, let us pray to the Lord.

For the grace to see every human being as a child of God, regardless of race, language or culture, let us pray to the Lord.

For the wisdom to receive the stories and experiences of those different from ourselves and to respond with respect, let us pray to the Lord.

For the strength to teach our children how to resolve differences non-violently and respectfully, and the courage to model it in our own behavior, let us pray to the Lord.

For our faith community, that we may celebrate and welcome the diverse faces of Christ in our worship, our ministries, and our leaders, let us pray to the Lord.

For our faith community, that we may respond boldly to the Holy Spirit's call to act together to end violence and racism, let us pray to the Lord.

For healing and justice for all those who have experienced violence and racism, let us pray to the Lord.

For the protection of all police and first responders who risk their lives daily to ensure our safety; for fair and just policing that will promote peace and wellbeing in all our neighborhoods, let us pray to the Lord.

For our public officials, that they will strive to work for fair education, adequate housing, and equal opportunities for employment for all, let us pray to the Lord.

For our parish, that we may cultivate welcome, extend hospitality, and encourage the participation of people of all cultures, ethnicities and backgrounds, let us pray to the Lord.

For the courage to have difficult conversations about racism, and for a better appreciation of how our words and actions – or even our silence – can impact our communities, let us pray to the Lord.

For solidarity in our global human family, that we may work together to protect those who are most vulnerable and most in need, let us pray to the Lord.

-from United States Conference of Catholic Bishops

[essaysbyciara]

forgiveness does not mean the absence of consequence.

tw: intimate partner violence, sexual violence

I sit here and wonder why I chose to forgive the men who hurt me. Why would I? I can count the number of men who’ve helped me on one hand. Those who harmed me? I don’t have enough appendages to note them all. I just know that I had to. Not for them but for me. 

Every day I punish myself for believing that they deserve it. 

I’m a woman that knows what it’s like to fester in what you’ve reaped. I stay reaping for things that I sowed by proxy of being present in those moments. I need to speak up about grace more often. The moment I believe that grace and forgiveness remain distant from me is when the cross loses its power. But I know that as I sit by watching their lives carry on as I labor on with the grief and shame of somehow letting their act of hatred stain me, I again wonder if forgiveness is truly the only method of solving this madness. 

A man spoke death over me. A man threw a glass bottle toward my head. A man wouldn’t stop when my hands pressed against his body in hopes that he would. A man spit on me as I went down to the ground hoping things ould end. A man saw me unable to make cognizant decisions and thought the prospect of sex was worth more than asking if I was okay. A man mocked my father’s fragility during an online spat. “Your Dad was inside the house dying a slow death while you were over here sucking my dick.”

I have yet to forgive myself for running to men as my life ran away from me. Dude who spoke of my father’s “slow death” was one of those escapes. I prayed for his children when I found out he himself left Earth and went to the eternal. Forgiveness comes in many forms. 

I’ve been taught through the words and actions of an eternal king that no one is without the opportunity for redemption. Powers drive a person to be their worst selves. Trauma informs. “I just want him to be okay.” That’s all I can ask for in those moments after I found myself on the wrong side of their history. They don’t ever mean to. Sounds like I’m making excuses. 

I really do want their hearts to be at peace. I also want them to come to that conclusion before God chooses to no longer give them a way out. 

“Their houses are full of deceit; they have become rich and powerful and have grown fat and sleek. Their evil deeds have no limit; they do not seek justice. They do not promote the case of the fatherless; they do not defend the just cause of the poor. Should I not punish them for this?” 

I’m asking the Creator to spare them the worst knowing that they won’t be fully spared at all. “I won’t destroy you completely.” There’s always rebuilding after destruction. 

I know I’m being spared. I know ducking and dodging the worst. Only after acknowledging my guilt. Sitting in shame, bathing in the disgust of my decisions. Punishing myself recklessly before God can finish the job. Sheepishly hoping as if you did enough self-work to keep God’s wrath at bay knowing there ain’t enough to stop the reign. 

Sometimes exile is the catalyst for healing. Being sent outside of the city walls until your leprous spots no longer boil and fester is the only way to keep you and others safe. Destroy and rebuild. Uproot and plant. Remove and re-establish. Again, I know. 

Yet I live in the shadows of all the hurt afflicted upon me. I don’t trust men. I don’t trust their intentions. I think most men will surely hurt me, it’s only a matter of time. I self-destruct under pure intentions. My ruins aren’t meant to be loved. I know perfect-for-me exists but I know a man won’t see me as perfect-for-them. I stay out of the way in hopes to not be into anyone’s way. 

So I hide to heal. That’s the lie I tell myself. 

I need to learn how to forgive myself. 

[laindtt]

Ask Meme

Was tagged by the lovely @lulu2992 for quite a challenging ask meme: spell out your URL using song titles that can describe your muse/OC/pairings, then tag as many people as there are letters in your URL! Thank you so much ♥ As I haven't properly introduced my OCs yet, I chose 3 songs for the Seed family and one for each of its members ; some of them are quite oddly specific so I added some details, but I hope you'll enjoy the medley :) I also added the parts of the lyrics that motivate my choice under the cut.

Tagging, if you're interested in giving a try: @purplehairsecretlair @teamhawkeye @redreart @sweeetestcurse @galeofwaterdeeps @miasmat @josephslittledeputy

TW: strong language, violence, self-harm

L - Live like legends, Ruelle (the Seed family)

When it rains, it pours There will be blood in the water Cold to the core Faith falls hard on our shoulders This is our time No turning back We could live, we could live like legends This is our time No turning back We could live, we could live like legends

A - A million voices, Polina Gagarina (the Seed family)

We are the world's people Different yet we're the same We believe, we believe in a dream Praying for peace and healing I hope we can start again We believe, we believe in a dream So if you ever feel love is fading Together like the stars in the sky We can sing, we can shine When you hear our voices call You won't be lonely anymore

I - If rain is what you want, Slipknot (the Seed family, to the Deputy)

It's been years since anyone could be a friend It's the fear that kills the feeling in the end Can we face it? Can we shape it? Can we really die? If rain is what you want, all you have to do is close your eyes Just close your eyes I am watching resurrection start to crawl Is there any chance in hell? Any chance at all? Do we need it? Do we see it? Is it really there? If rain is what you want, then take your seats, enjoy the fall Enjoy the fall The only thing deeper than my last breath The only thing darker than my last death Is the panic, the static, I've come back from the dead But my cities will never sleep again

N - Nightmare, Halsey (John)

Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord my soul to keep If I shall die before I 'wake I pray the Lord my soul to take I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind They talk shit, but I love it every time And I realize I've tasted blood and it is sweet I've had the rug pulled beneath my feet I've trusted lies and trusted men Broke down and put myself back together again Stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters Collected the pieces and picked out a dagger I've pinched my skin in between my two fingers And wished I could cut some parts off with some scissors (…) 'Cause kindness is weakness, or worse, you're complacent I could play nice or I could be a bully I'm tired and angry, but somebody should be (…) Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware But I'd rather be a real nightmare than die unaware, yeah Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware But I'm glad to be a real nightmare, so save me your prayers

D - Down with the sickness, Disturbed (Jacob, to the Seed brother's biological parents)

Looking at my own reflection When suddenly it changes Violently it changes (oh no) There is no turning back now You've woken up the demon in me Get up, come on get down with the sickness Get up, come on get down with the sickness Get up, come on get down with the sickness Open up your hate, and let it flow into me Get up, come on get down with the sickness You mother get up come on get down with the sickness You fucker get up come on get down with the sickness Madness is the gift, that has been given to me I can see inside you, the sickness is rising Don't try to deny what you feel (Will you give in to me?) It seems that all that was good has died And is decaying in me (Will you give in to me?) It seems you're having some trouble In dealing with these changes Living with these changes (oh no) The world is a scary place Now that you've woken up the demon in me

T - The darkest star, Depeche Mode (Faith)

Oh you sad one Playing the Angel Isn't so easy where you're from Oh you wild one Devil's companion You won't stay satisfied for long I don't want you to change anything you do I don't want you to be someone else for me Oh you dark one Eternal outsider Caught in the spider's web you've spun Oh you blind one Gentle and kind one Seeing the world as a loaded gun I don't want you to change anything you do I don't want you to be someone else for me Stay as you are, the Darkest Star Shining for me majestically

T - The beaten side of town, Barry Adamson (Joseph)

I woke up this morning from a crazy dream: The Earth was a turning ball of fire Satan and the Pilgrims had wiped the scene And I became their twisted gun for hire Don't let 'em getcha, boy, now use your head The lights they're coming 'round again "Run like a demon, boy," is what they said And then began to count from one to ten So now I'm tryin' to get out of the city You know where I can be found: The beaten side of town… Won't never let you down

[annonniiiiieeeee]

Okay one more thing and I will shut up but

I have to say I hate you and @fatalflawsy

Despite loving this franchise since I was 3 years old I've never attempted to draw the turtles, now thanks to your brain child of pantheonAU,( how can I not after the mental image of Splinter telling usagi that he won't smite him and he will let his cruse take care of him) I might have to put those color markers my brother gave me for Christmas to go to use.

Also ,just two ideas you two might like

1) Leo on top of being the god of strategy and travel, he's associated with medicine because if you get injured in a fight or in your travels you pray to him for help.

And maybe Casey Junior being a sort of God of the roads like Hecate. That helps people find their way home in dangerous situations especially favoring those who are considered to be outcast. (Just an idea)

I have also been thinking about drawling them. I have so many ideas but not enough time.

I love the idea of giving Leo medicine or healing. Everyone should know by now that I have a medic Leo agenda.

Okay Casey getting roads is fantastic. It connects him not only to his mom but Leo. Leo his mentor gave Casey dominion over road. Leo is all travel. Boats, walking, carts, any way of traveling belongs to Leo. But he gave Casey the roads themselves. Casey powers reflect his mom by being her opposite. Victory is the end of war/fighting and peace is the opposite of violence. But Leo who supports him on his quest for godhood gives up a price of his power for Casey to have more.

I love it.

[crosaidi]

paladin oaths evolve. they can change. they can, especially with paths like vengeance, come to natural endings.

i like to think that when they defeat the absolute, especially if he's in a relationship towards the end, his oath of vengeance finds —— a natural conclusion. it's resolved, fulfilled, he can let it go without breaking.

but that doesn't mean he's done. i think he goes with his partner, finds a place to settle for awhile. maybe actually —— sort of retires for a year or two. but he's not —— that. he can't. he gets restless. but he doesn't really want to go on the warpath again.

i like to think, because of everything, he eventually takes up the Oath of Redemption.

this isn't necessarily an easy path for him, but i think it marks this —— growth. acceptance. especially for someone who has fought himself bloody for decades, stepping back and becoming, maybe, what he wanted to be when he first swore when he was just a boy.

i'm putting the details of the oath under the cut but bc they're long but. i think this would be the ideal path or ending for him.

Tenets of Redemption

The Oath of Redemption sets a paladin on a difficult path, one that requires a holy warrior to use violence only as a last resort. Paladins who dedicate themselves to this oath believe that any person can be redeemed and that the path of benevolence and justice is one that anyone can walk. These paladins face evil creatures in the hope of turning them to the light, and the paladins slay them only when such a deed will clearly save other lives. Paladins who follow this path are known as redeemers. While redeemers are idealists, they are no fools. Redeemers know that undead, demons, devils, and other supernatural threats can be inherently evil. Against such foes, the paladins bring the full wrath of their weapons and spells to bear. Yet the redeemers still pray that, one day, even creatures of wickedness will invite their own redemption. The tenets of the Oath of Redemption hold a paladin to a high standard of peace and justice.

Peace. Violence is a weapon of last resort. Diplomacy and understanding are the paths to long-lasting peace.

Innocence. All people begin life in an innocent state, and it is their environment or the influence of dark forces that drives them to evil. By setting the proper example, and working to heal the wounds of a deeply flawed world, you can set anyone on a righteous path.

Patience. Change takes time. Those who have walked the path of the wicked must be given reminders to keep them honest and true. Once you have planted the seed of righteousness in a creature, you must work day after day to allow it to survive and then flourish.

Wisdom. Your heart and mind must stay clear, for eventually you will be forced to admit defeat. While every creature can be redeemed, some are so far along the path of evil that you have no choice but to end their lives for the greater good. Any such action must be carefully weighed and the consequences fully understood, but once you have made the decision, follow through with it knowing your path is just.

[magnolia-sunrise]

okay whatever, medieval vampire AU ramblings, if you care

copying from the tags of my previous post but, to give you more context about Bastiens little life - he had dreamt up plans of rising through the ranks and becoming a respected high ranking member of the clergy. given his whole situation in his mind its the coziest and smartest path of life where nobody would ever question him not taking a wife or look under his robes. instead, his naive plans quickly shatter as he ends up assigned to a fuck off village in what would be today's southern France. where the people first of all dont really care for the whole religion or paying taxes thing and dont appreciate the rumours about him spending time around Florentines that arrive with him (largely thanks to the mayor's loud mouth son, Matteo :) ). and so he spends his days tending to the chickens he keeps so hes able to feed himself and even sell some eggs sometimes, he takes care of a small vineyard, just enough to make and drink his own supply of wine.

where he had some ideals of the church and faith, the abject poverty and the isolated misery of a life he lives doesn't really keep his spirits high. he has no one who would listen to his preaching, no one to lead, he drinks himself to sleep almost every night. he has failed himself and his faith.

when a knight - one of the fucking Kingsguard, somehow finds their way to his home first he's sure the crown somehow got wise to the village not paying their taxes for as long as he lived there. instead this knight almost collapses into his doorway- strangely only after he invites them in- and now seeing the state they're in, theres a whole other problem in Bastien's mind. in this setting he is very far from being a doctor or knowing first thing about medicine, best he can do is pray for their soul and their peaceful passing aka "rip i guess"

iirc the myths of vampires weren't very widespread in Europe yet in late 14th century and so i imagine Bastien wouldnt really pick up on a lot of the "tells" at first. especially since they arrive half dead, feverish, hardly saying anything - it's difficult to make a clear judgement, and also try not to offend one of the King's personal guards.

for Wolfgang the past weeks have been a torment in ways they never imagined.

they were born into a family of some status, modest but in favor with the crown, which many nobles and knights, out of pure jealousy, are sure had influence on how quickly they rose through the ranks and received knighthood. they were proud of their skill with a sword and their efficiency in violence, in winning battles and land or their king. they were successful and respected and beautiful. their body a tool of war and death, but delivered only with purpose and principle, selfless.

when they got turned - this purpose, this pride in their intimate knowledge of how to most efficiently kill a man, is turned against them. without understanding anything that's happening to them, these horrible, scorching urges -- willing them to just kill for their own pleasure, to devour, to keep themself fed and think of no one els, it's horrible.

even with everything else aside - narrowly escaping execution, being stripped of land and title and exiled - losing control of themself, of their body, this is the worst part of it all. that first night when their horse carries them back to the castle and in blood red haze they bite the first person going down the halls - the prince - -- their young sweet prince, who so admired them, who they taught swordfighting when he was younger -- they failed the crown and themself.

they try to feed on rats and small animals in the woods and on peasant's chickens and they get rightfully chased out and hunted down and impaled with pitchforks. they crawl into a hole to die only for their body to heal itself, and the hunger to make itself known again. it is a battle they don't know how to win.

stumbling into Bastien's home one summer night is the single light in all this darkness. for whatever reason beyond their comprehension he invites them inside, into his warmth, he lets them stay and heal and doesn't ask too many questions. when they recover, the two of them quickly find how lonely and starved they had both been for genuine human company. they both also become very aware of the many stolen glances and accidental touches, especially as they spend more and more evenings enjoying bad wine and talking.

that hunger is always there, always waiting for an opportunity, for a weakness in their armor. sooner or later they will have to face it again, or risk losing control completely.

(--- there is a bunch of stuff im leaving out that doent pertain just to these two, that we have been chatting about together with @vividmercurial and smashing our OC dolls together. he supplied the prince and the mysterious stranger who ends up being Wolf's downfall and in turn perhaps Wolfgang with the help of their drunkard priest, will help the mysterious stranger regain his soul. )

with these sketches out in the world my next goal is to figure out a little comic as a culmination of the tension between Bastien and Wolfgang, the whole core of why even have a vampire AU in the first place ;^)) the story and the imagery is so vivid in my mind and the settings and tropes are of course extremely self indulgent and very straight forward in ways that are really funny and interesting to contrast with their canon universe for me. so i definitely see myself returning to some ideas from this even after the halloween month ends hehe

[beardedmrbean]

RICHMOND, Va. (WRIC) — Amari Pollard, the defendant in the Huguenot graduation shooting trial, has pleaded guilty to two charges, including first-degree murder.

According to Richmond City Commonwealth’s Attorney Colette McEachinn, on Thursday, Feb. 29, Amari Pollard, 20, pleaded guilty to both charges of first-degree murder and use of a firearm in commission of a felony during the fourth day of the trial of Huguenot High School graduation shooting that killed 18-year-old Shawn Jackson.

Pollard was sentenced to 43 years with 18 suspended. He will serve 25 years in prison.

Pollard took the stand to testify Thursday, saying that he shot Jackson because he was scared for his life and that he was running away from him when he heard someone say “shoot him.” That’s when Pollard fired his gun, according to his testimony.

Prosecutors, challenging Pollard’s story, pointed to surveillance video which they said shows that Pollard shot Jackson from behind, and emphasized the fact that Jackson was shot a total of six times.

After hearing Pollard’s testimony, the judge ruled that there was not enough evidence for a self-defense claim and that the argument could not be included in jury instructions.

McEachin shared the following statement following the guilty plea:

“I want to thank the family for their strength in this eight-month ordeal, thank Richmond Police, especially Jeff Crewell, for a thorough investigation that resulted in the FBI being able to compile a video from a number of sources that set out a timeline that showed the defendant running around a group of people to get to the point where he could shoot Shawn Jackson six times. This has been a day that the City of Richmond and Richmond Public Schools and public spaces like the Altria Theater will never forget, and the defendant’s callous and thoughtless actions in a public graduation in a public space in the middle of the afternoon are the sole reason that he is going to serve 25 years in prison. His actions and his actions alone.”

Richmond City School Board member Jonathan Young shared the following statement with 8News:

“An excruciating eight months for everyone at Huguenot finally has some resolution, even if still too many questions are unresolved. I pray for better days at Huguenot, everyone there deserves it.”

Richmond Mayor Levar Stoney shared the following statement with 8News:

“Today, justice has been served. Thank you to the Commonwealth’s Attorney and the Richmond Police Department for their service to deliver justice to the victims, their families and the community. This guilty plea is a step towards healing for Huguenot High School, Richmond Public Schools and the city of Richmond.”

Richmond Public Schools also shared the following statement:

“June 6 was intended to be a joyful day for Richmond graduates. Instead, it ended in a senseless tragedy that took two lives, and destroyed countless others. We continue to mourn the loss of Shawn Jackson and his step-father Lorenzo Smith, and pray that Mrs. Jackson-Smith finds some closure and peace with the conclusion of the trial. We encourage any students or staff retraumatized by the legal proceedings to seek support from a family member or friend, a trusted colleague, or a healthcare provider. 

Far too many children in our community continue to be impacted by gun violence every day. We plead with all of Richmond to continue working, by any means necessary, to eliminate this devastating epidemic and its root causes. We owe that to Shawn, and to all the children and youth of this city.”

More information about the shooting, subsequent investigation and trial can be found here.