#reconnecting with god so i can ask him to make me be reborn as a bee so i can devote my life circling around my queen [him] at all times | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hopeswriting · 3 years ago

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HI BABE 💛 v interested in God, Please, Not Again, Beware the now Loved Child, Child, Come Back to Me (I’m the only Mercy Left for you to Find), Civilain Tsuna & Mafia Everyone Else, don't you dare die for us, and Now who the FUCK caused the apocalypse this time?! for the WIP game <3333 (you can answer as little or as many of them tho!) (also, can I just say I am OBSESSED with your naming skills. I love every single title you come up with 💞)

babe, thanks so much for indulging me in this, you're the best. *kisses you lovingly on the forehead* 👄 ❤ and of course thank you for the ask. <3

God, Please, Not Again

[Plain text: “God, Please, Not Again” in bold. /End PT]

this one is basically another daily life arc version arco! the premise of it is, what if the arco do have to grow back to their adult body like normal people like in canon, instead of the popular fanon trope where verde finds a way to speed up that growth? that plus the fanon trope where they have to stick together because it makes their growth smoother, because i needed them to actually stay around each other and in namimori lol.

i still decided on a faster growth rate tho, but only of one year of growth per month, and the idea is to follow the arco around until they all grow back to their original age pre-curse. so the fic is mostly slice of life with a lot of humor and chaos, with a side of vongola tenth gen, and also more serious/angsty moments where the arco connect/reconnect with each other and get some closure from the curse.

here’s the summary:

In their dreams, the Arcobaleno are free from the Curse and immediately get back their adult body. In reality, the universe flips them off one last time, and they have to grow back to adulthood all over again.

The Arcobaleno flip it off right back, and they’ll be damned if they don’t make it everyone else’s problem too.

Beware the now Loved Child

[Plain text: “Beware the now Loved Child” in bold. /End PT]

i was actually so excited about this one when i started it!! but then it grew in length in a way i wasn’t expecting it, and i lost motivation for it when i got stuck in one scene on top of that, and it’s been some time now i didn’t touch it. :( i still totally plan to finish it eventually tho!

anyway the fic focuses on the khr kids, lambo, i-pin and fuuta, and their relationship with tsuna. it retells the events from canon (kokuyo arc, varia arc, future arc) from their pov, tho it’s canon divergent in the way where i make them have a more active part in the story by exploring more just what it means that they’re all mafia kids.

here’s the summary:

Tsuna-nii has loved them first out of the whole world, and they could never love him back enough for that. (But oh, they try. Never let it be said they don’t.)

Tsuna-nii may think he knows how much they love him—including their hidden ways to love him—, but he doesn’t. Tsuna-nii can never know, he’s so kind, cares so much, they can’t ever do that to him. (What if he loves them less because of it?)

Or, unloved mafia children are all but too common, and the ones lucky enough to find love don’t make the mistake to take it for granted.

Child, Come Back to Me (I’m the only Mercy Left for you to Find)

[Plain text: “Child, Come Back to Me (I’m the only Mercy Left for you to Find)” in bold. /End PT]

this is a skull-centric fic exploring his relationship with death as he discovers his immortality. it’s very introspective and angsty, and i haven’t decided yet if i’ll give it a happy ending of sorts, but probably not. maybe the arco will have a cameo too, but i haven’t decided on that either.

the summary is a poem from Nathaniel Orion G. K., because it single-handedly inspired this fic lol:

“You don’t get to die

and be reborn the same.

You come back,

but you come back wrong.

This is the price you pay

for resurrection.”

Civilain Tsuna & Mafia Everyone Else

[Plain text: “Civilain Tsuna & Mafia Everyone Else” in bold. /End PT]

i actually don’t even have a summary for this one lol, tho i did start writing it, but i have very little for it as of now. that said, if i should give it an actual title, it’d be something like “a very normal week in sawada tsunayoshi’s life” *wink wink*.

it was inspired by a prompt i saw here that was about a civilian protagonist and their superheroes buddies or something. the idea is that tsuna never ever came close to being mafia, but he still finds his way to be close friends with the vongola tenth gen who are very much all mafia lol. oh yeah, it’s tyl too!

so basically they’re kind of just a fixture of tusna’s daily life, popping up at their unspoken designated time, and tsuna does not comment about the mafia-related chaos they bring with them (even if it’s mostly assassination on his life lol).

don't you dare die for us

[Plain text: “don't you dare die for us” in bold and lower case. /End PT]

ahhhh, i think this one will actually do good once i get it out!! now if only i could get myself to finish writing it zsdfchgsd. 😭😂

it’s a skull & arco fic, where just before they get cursed, skull runs in front of the arco à la colonnello to protect them from it. because of something something (still undecided lol), turns out he’s able to sustain all the pacifiers by himself, but thankfully for the arco the process takes time, because they have none of that. they make kawahira sends them back in skull’s past so they can warn him not to be a dumbass, and hopefully come back to the present where he decided against being one. and yes, even if it means they end up cursed.

it’s not like they were treating skull right tho, and as far as skull is concerned they don’t give a shit about him, and it’s kind of a speedrun redemption arc for the arco, but in skull’s past with a skull that isn’t really theirs, and also that’ll affect their relationship with their skull in the present. or something zsdfghjgf.

here’s the summary:

The light shines down on them, and as Colonnello runs forward to save Lal, Skull runs faster to save all of them. He does, but the Arcobaleno have a lot to say to that.

If it means time-traveling into his timeline to retroactively knock some sense into him, then so be it.

Now who the FUCK caused the apocalypse this time?!

[Plain text: “Now who the FUCK caused the apocalypse this time?!” in bold, with the word “Fuck” in all caps. /End PT]

this one is SO dumb but i love it so much!! it was inspired by a writing prompt i saw here too, but became something else entirely. and despite what the title might lead you to believe, almost no one actually gives a shit about the apocalypse going on or about stopping it, not when they’re too busy being a dick to each other lmao.

i took the khr cast and separated them into (time) travelers, immortals and ghosts/glitches, also mixing the canon groups with each other because i wanted to see what fun, rare interactions i’d be able to write like that, and they’re just running around trying not to kill each other or actively trying to kill each other. and ignoring the apocalypse as they do, but thankfully for most, some of them can be responsible in the face of the literal end of the world lol.

this one is just time-travel fuckery and crack and humor, but also they do all like and care for each other under all the insults and hostility, so there’s some friendship/family vibes too.

here’s the summary:

In which stopping the recurrent apocalypses barely manages to make the travelers, immortals and ghosts play nice with each other, but then again, neither of them can make sure they have the last word if the world ends on them.

EDIT: (zedfcghf thank you, i’m actually very proud of most of them too 💕💕)

[ask game]

#ask games #katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr skull #khr arcobaleno #vongola tenth gen #khr wip #tomura nii #long post

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skitter-kitter · 3 years ago

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@figleafiddle dared me to, so here’s a big list of all my desert duo fic ideas I never wrote!

- - - - -

LL and HC scar get swapped early on, (like between episode 1 and 2 of last life) scar falls off the mountain and dies and when he wakes up he’s at spawn with only the memories of HC. He winds up wandering to the Southlands (biggest area and landmark) and runs into Grian, and Grian is… off put, until he realizes that scar doesn’t remember anything. Third life— or Monopoly Mountian— or their final duel.

And so, Grian decides to help protect Scar. To protect the last of that memory. To protect the last good thing he has.

(LL scar is also not having a great time in Hermitcraft haha)

- - - - -

Someone makes a hunger games rip-off on Hermitcraft and it ends up with a bunch of third life duos reconnecting and deciding this time will be different. The “districts” would be Ren and Grian, Scar and Impulse, Mumbo and Martyn, and I didn’t come up with any more haha

- - - - -

This is less desert duo, but I was inspired by the idea of the Boatem Hole being alive and scar being it’s favorite, so I wrote a bit for it.The air burned against his skin. His lips turned a light blue in seconds. His hand flinched back, even as he flew into the void.

The air burned against his skin. His lips turned a light blue in seconds. His hand flinched back, even as he flew into the void.

The darkness was everywhere. There were no stars— no moon.

Only the void… and the soul-deep chill that bathed in it.

The smoke in his lungs burned— like a phoenix reborn. Frost prickled across his skin. With every second that passed it grew harder to beat his wings, to urge them to fly, fly fly—

The boat was long gone by now. Spirited away by the void.

His lungs ached. Scar opened his lips— to beg, to scream— but no sound came out. It wasn’t like anyone would have heard him, anyway. It wasn’t like anyone would dive in after him, anyway.

Scar smiled bitterly.

With wings iced over— a flightless bird— what kind of phoenix was he?

With no mega base what kind of Hermit was he?

(Send an ask if you want the full WIP!)

- - - - -

There was going to be a sequel to his own god about scar growing lonely in a world with only the two of them and Grian taking him to a bunch of other worlds (hermitcraft, empires, Dream SMP, maybe even revisiting third life) and trying to find a home. Scar refuses to stay at Hermitcraft because— “they seem happy” (talking about HC!Grian and scar)

- - - - -

There was also going to be a sequel to Seraphim about the Red Army kidnapping Scar and trying to convince him to join them. It would delve into Martyn and Scar’s friendship and how betrayed scar felt about Martyn joining Ren. There would be more about Scar being looked down upon for his powers (specifically for them taking away free will) and the red army offering him “freedom”

- - - - -

At one point, I was writing a ficlet about Dream and Scar making the deal to go back to scar’s world. It would have been a bet, that if scar won he would go alone and be free. If Dream won, scar would owe him and they would go together. Dream won.

“We’ll visit your old world.” Dream was grinning underneath his mask. “You can grab some mementos, then… we’ll come back.”

Scar glared at him.

“We’ll come home… and you can visit your old world anytime you want to! Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

(Send an ask if you want the full WIP!)

- - - - -

I had this WIP that was about the boogeyman curse spreading to the Hermitcraft server and how it causes a divide in the groups. Boatem gets together to stay safe, and Grian is very suspicious of everyone. He worries the most about scar because of their history. In the end, Mumbo tries to leave to get something and Grian and scar accompany him. Scar ends up killing Mumbo (but in a way that the chat message wouldn’t reveal it was him) and Grian agrees to keep it secret it was him. Grian and scar become much much closer but it isn’t until they come back to Boatem that they find out Mumbo hasn’t respawned.

Permadeath has been turned on… and in the morning, another Boogeyman will be chosen.

- - - - -

There was a ficlet about Grian and Joel going through with using the obsidian box.“I’m sorry, Scar.” The cruel thing is— he does sound regretful. Even as he pushes Scar into the obsidian box. Even as he watches Scar burn, once, twice, three times— Grian never looks away.

“I’m sorry, Scar.” The cruel thing is— he does sound regretful. Even as he pushes Scar into the obsidian box. Even as he watches Scar burn, once, twice, three times— Grian never looks away.

Red meet green— yellow— red.

Grian smiles. “You ready to join us?”

And it’s all Scar can do, now. It’s the only option left. He has no more lives, no more allies.

Grian and Joel are his winged saviors. And Scar, a peasant— a fool— graciously takes their offering.

- - - - -

Here is a WIP about Grian and Scar talking after the second session where Joel turned red. Scar is secretly still allied with him.

Grian smiled, and sighed. The world loved repetition, didn’t it? Loved to drag them back together— to let him see what had become of Scar.

Allowed him to watch as he turned from a simple conman, to a trader of souls, to a Boogeyman.

From no allies, to one, back to none again.

(And, maybe that was a lie. And, maybe Scar was never alone.)

“I’m sure you couldn’t,” Scar murmured. He sounded… regretful. It’s that familiar cadence,— I have a plan, I have a plan— the fear, the numbness, of Scar’s betrayal.

Scar betrayed him, in a swamp.

Grian killed him, atop a mountain.

The world loves repetition.

“What do you want?” Grian demanded. He turned to look Scar— betrayer! Betrayer Scar!— in his eyes. Green, like a meadow. Green, like trust. “From me. From…” From us. He grimaced at the instinct. At the memory of their alliance. “From the Southlands?”

Scar hummed, glancing back toward him. His eyes didn’t show regret— didn’t show the usual pride and arrogance. He looked sad.

(Send an ask for the full WIP!)

- - - - -

This WIP is about the winners of Third/Last Life being able to walk through and revisit the old worlds. Ren wins and finds Scar is with him.

“I died here. I— I didn’t see the creeper, or hear it, I guess.” His hand balled into a fist by his side. “Grian felt bad and gave his first life to me.”

Ren hummed softly.

“Were you there?”

Ren’s red eyes tore into him, annoyance in the man’s eyes. “No. Martyn was— he told me about it.”

For a long moment, Scar stared at his grave. What would have happened if Grian hadn’t lured the creeper? They’d already considered the desert monopoly, hadn’t they?

(With every week that passed it got harder and harder to remember who was where— who was on what side. All Scar ever truly remembered was Grian— Grian was by his side. Even if his friend didn’t remember that, Scar would.)

Surely, they still would have wound up with Pizza, with Monopoly Mountain. They would be the final two no matter what. Scar would die by Grian’s hands, no matter what.

“Where did you lose your first life?”

Ren grimaced, a snarl on his lips. Scar waited. Here, at least there was time to wait for the other’s reply. There was no rush to get supplies, no rush to get allies.

Just them— just two former enemies.

“Outside Dogwarts,” Ren answered after a minute. “Your explosion trap.”

“Oh!” Scar laughed.

(Send me an ask for the full WIP!)

- - - - -

This is a fic about Grian and Scar having a very bitter, angry reunion in Hermitcraft after last life!

Scar’s quiet mourning began to burn away, a fierce anger replaced it. Scar gritted his teeth. His hands balled into fists.

He was holding himself back. From what?

Scar sighed. His hands relaxed. He slumped forward, looking Grian dead in the eyes.

“You left.” It was a quiet accusation. Almost a question. He was tempted to give excuses, but Scar knew him better than that.

In the silence, Scar looked into Grian’s eyes pleadingly. He wanted the truth. He wanted an apology.

Grian scoffed under his breath.

“You left me to die.” Scar seemed more… disappointed than angry. He must have seen it coming ever since that first life.

The wind whipped against his hair. A chill set into his skin. Anger kept him warm.

(Send me an ask for the full WIP!)

- - - - -

I had a canon divergence au about scar getting chosen as the boogeyman more often, and having to kill a bunch. He keeps a lot of his lives, but when Grian comes to get his revenge scar is the boogeyman and kills him. The red kill doesn’t count and scar is annoyed, until Mumbo comes to ask for Grian’s body. Scar says that the price for it is a life. Mumbo hesitates and as they negotiate Scar inches closer until he kills Mumbo.

He gets boogeyman again and Joel comes to talk to him and a fight breaks out and Joel dies. Scar rigs his body with explosives as a final goodbye. When he’s on the other side of the world, he watches Magical Mountain explode. In the chat, he sees Lizzie’s death message.

A grieving widow comes for her husband's body, and dies for the sin of caring.

- - - - -

This WIP is called “The Holy Land (Takes No Prisoners)” and it’s about people dropping scars crystals outside his house. They’re blessed and wind up creating a circle around his house, trapping him and whoever is with him inside. Scar, Grian, and Joel are trapped together.

Scar ignored it.

This collective ignorance— it was the closest thing to privacy they were allowed.

The universe created a circle around Magical Mountain. A circle of crystals— luck, protection, friendship, it didn’t matter— to keep them trapped there. It had been up for the last day or two.

Grian decided to busy himself by replanting Scar’s farm. He offered to make a larger, underground farm for him.

Scar refused the offer.

He knew, if he looked outside, that Grian would be building it anyway. In this world, his opinion didn’t really matter. It didn’t matter if he asked people to leave their weapons at the door. It didn’t matter if he told them he was out of lives to spare.

They just—

(“Either you give us two lives, or your life ends here. Permanently.”)

They took, until he had nothing left to give.

Until he was red.

(Send me an ask for the full WIP!)

- - - - -

Grian offers for Scar to kill him. I do not know when this is set haha. Third Life AU

“I don’t care anymore.” Grian’s voice is stilted— broken. His voice is deep with exhaustion. The memory of tears. “Just do it— kill me. Chop my head off and get it over with.”

And Scar— the merchant, the manipulator, the murderer— can’t do it.

He knows Grian will come back. He knows red eyes will meet his with a cruel smile. He knows Grian will never be kind again.

“No.” Scar’s hands shake as he drops the sword. “No, I can’t.”

I will share more of my WIPs in a part two!

#i’m not maintagging this #uhhh there’s a lot here and still a lot to go #fig you’ve cursed me #this isnt even scratching the surface dear god

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highfaelucien · 3 years ago

Text

Ardere - A Helion/Lady of Autumn Fic

y’all heathens made me have feelings so i wrote a thing. hurt/comfort, angst, all sorts. Tagging some folks who inspired this with their emotional dashboard shenanigans/that I feel would Appreciate the content. @exiledelain @confused-as-all-hell @asteria-of-mars @ratabrasileira @ladyvanserra @vanserrasvalkyrie @rarephloxes @queen-hypaxia

Title: Ardere

Length: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, given Lady Autumn’s situation

Summary: Set during the High Lords meeting in ACOWAR. Canon compliant, I suppose, but do any of us care about that anymore?? Hestia, the Lady of the Autumn Court, seeks her oldest lover and comfort Helion for a stolen night of love and reconnection. Helion POV, emotional hurt/comfort, bit of angst.

Teaser:

‘" Hestia," he whispered, with the same reverence he'd speak the name of a goddess in her holiest temple.

Instinct bade him go to her, and he did not fight it. He didn't even try.

For a moment he thought she might refuse him, might insist upon caution. But the next she was in his arms, and as he held her close and breathed her in, he knew he hadn't been truly warm since last he'd been able to embrace her.

"Helion," she murmured into his chest.

The sound of her voice wrapped around his name was the sweetest torture he'd ever known. All Hyben need do to break him was ask him to defect in her voice and he would obey without a thought.

AO3: Link

"I cannot spare long."

The book he'd been flipping idly through dropped at once from his fingers at the sound of that voice.

Before he'd finished turning to her, her scent hit him. So warm, so inviting, it nearly knocked him back into his chair.

Then he beheld her.

The first time he'd clapped eyes on her, all those centuries ago, she'd left him breathless and stunned.

Like an Autumn storm that had ravaged every part of his being and left him, naked and awed, before its power and majesty. She had blown into his life with an unexpected abruptness as yet unmatched.

He'd been an arrogant prick at that age. Cauldron, he was still an arrogant prick. But he'd been used to everyone's eyes, male or female, following him as he moved through a room.

Those gazes found him and they didn't leave. He was High fae. He was a High Lord's heir. He'd been made to rule Day and to look damned good while doing it.

He'd been accustomed to being wanted, to inspiring lust and envy by simply existing.

Never, before her, had he been on the other side.

He'd never seen someone so beautiful. So consuming and captivating that he hadn't been sure of being able to win their lust and love with a simple smile and an effortless word.

She'd shaken something in him that day. She had entered his world and unmade him with a glance. Then reconstructed him, exactly as she'd found him, with one stark difference. At the core of the man she had rebuilt was a need for her. Not merely her beautiful body, but her heart, her soul. He'd known, in that moment, that she had him. And always would.

The years had taken much from her. And holy gods, did he know it. But they had not taken this, her ability to so thoroughly destroy him that he was reborn at once as her servant in but a single glance.

" Hestia," he whispered, with the same reverence he'd speak the name of a goddess in her holiest temple.

Instinct bade him go to her, and he did not fight it. He didn't even try.

"Helion," she murmured into his chest.

The sound of her voice wrapped around his name was the sweetest torture he'd ever known. All Hyben need do to break him was ask him to defect in her voice and he would obey without a thought.

For all that he made a show, and tell, if he was fair, about what the Cauldron gave him with regards to his body, particularly his glorious thighs, that wasn't his true pride.

No, the thing he held most valuable was his mind which contained the knowledge of a thousand libraries and more.

He didn't earn his name by clearing through spells with his thighs. Fuck no. His wit, his cunning, his intellect, that was where his true power, his true strength as a High Lord came from.

That was why Hestia had always managed to claim him so thoroughly. All these centuries later and he still couldn't think around her. Couldn't form a single coherent thought while her scent filled his lungs. It travelled from there directly to his brain, and filled it with stolen afternoons and illicit nights spent in the only place they truly belonged.

Drawing away, in itself an agony, but one he was rewarded for, as it let him look into her face.

He cradled it between his hands, so careful. so delicate. She was not a fragile woman, he knew that well. She was of the forge, with fire in her veins, and iron in her bones.

The world saw the silence, the frailty of her body, and the resignation of her fate and mistook that for softness, and docility. He knew better.

This woman put the heroes of the War to shame. Her strength, her courage, her will - if they had any idea they'd have written epic poems about her resilience and ballads to her spirit.

Drakon wouldn't have lasted an hour in her place. Had she been in his, the damned War would have ended so fast they wouldn't have been able to call it one.

Yet he held her with all the gentleness that was in him. Not because he feared she might break without it; but because he knew she would find none elsewhere.

His fingers tenderly brushed her hair from her eyes. Like her, their, son's it was a red as sure as blood. But hers spiralled from her in a cacophony of raucous curls. They were contained, now, with a thick leather band around her head. He would always remember them wild, and free, as she was meant to be.

As he moved them aside, he saw the shadow of a bruise around one of her beautiful russet eyes. Hidden well, but...

His body went taut, jaw clenching instinctively. She felt the tension coiling in him, and laid her hands gently over his.

"Don’t," was all she said, voice soft, but unyielding, like the sun’s gentle rays as it rose each morning.

"Not a heartbeat has passed for me since that day," he rumbled, voice deeper and darker than his usual light, playful timbre." That I have not thought about the choice that was made, and begged the Mother to let me change it."

She faced him steadily and said, " You know I made the choice that was available to mem" she moved closer, her body melting against his, like the hot metal of a blade folded around itself to create something more, "Not the one I wanted."

"I know, my hearthlight,” he whispered softly, sensing her smile at the old pet name he used for her, “And I would never blame you for that. But as for myself-"

A coward. This woman. This holy, burning creature. This caged forest fire... She loved a coward.

Hestia placed a finger to his lips, silencing him, " What good does it do," she murmured the rich warmth of her voice caressing him like a thick blanket on a cold winter night, “To dwell upon the past? To linger, in misery, and shame in a single moment of your immortal life?”

He opened his mouth to answer her, but she knew him too well, and silenced him with but a single look.

"Will your regret force back the sun?” she demanded with that quiet spirit he loved so keenly, “Will your sadness take us back? Will your guilt rewrite the pages of the history books which have been gathering dust in your libraries for centuries?"

She was such a small thing. She always had been. And seemed more so, held between his muscular arms. Yet she dwarfed him now.

Like the flicker of a candle flame catching and summoning a raging inferno to remind him she was but a fragment of a force of nature, bound in skin, but never truly caged.

"If I could have," he said at last, voice a little hoarse as though he'd inhaled thick smoke, “I would have done so a thousand times over. And paid any price to do so."

He had tried. He'd never confess it to another soul, not even to the Mother herself upon his deathbed, but he had tried. Tried to rip apart the fabric of all reality with nothing but his bare hands and love for her.

A part of him was still surprised that it had not been enough. Because it was. Reality had simply not accepted that particular facet of its existence.

"I know you would have, lucky fluke," all these years and still she called him that.

A name she'd hung on him to tease the first day they had met. He'd baldly called their meeting the Mother's own ordained fate. She'd laughed, with a sound like falling leaves, and named it, and him, lucky fluke.

Then, the words had been edged with mockery. Now they echoed with all of their history, with all of their fondness, and all of her love.

"But time goes on. That sun of yours still journeys East to West, and we still live with the decisions we made upon a summer's night a million fireflies' lifetimes ago."

" Hestia-" he began, but she quietened him once more.

"When I wish to look back, Helion, I shall find myself a mirror,” she said, with the strength that had held her together all these decades of pain and misery, turned upon him now to remind him that she would not yield.

“I will not live my life wading through times I have already endured,” she said, voice softer now, but no less intent, “I have no wish to allow him to cause me pain in the few and rare times that are my own. I shall make pleasant moments here, with you, and that is what I ask of you. To be with me. Here. Now. And to love me while we can."

"I am yours, Lady,” he breathed.

With the same breath he’d first pledged that to her centuries ago. Before the world had taken the freedom she craved so much, and given him a power he’d never wanted. A tattoo of her heart had etched itself over his own, in a vibrant red, a marker of the bargain he’d made. Unintended, but not regretted.

“From now until my sun fades from this world unto the next," he promised her once more, one hand over his heart.

"Until I find you there as well," she replied, as she had all those years ago, leaning up, while drawing him down, and touching her forehead to his.

He loved her. Oh, Cauldron, he loved her, and whatever the Mother had used to make her, he loved that too.

"Come," she said softly," Let us make the most of what time we have."

So they did.

"What do you want from me, Hestia?" he whispered, pressing the worlds into her thick hair, his face buried in the crown of her head.

She looked at him, and answered as she did each time with aching certainty, and absolute truth." Everything."

"Then take it." he whispered, a devoted priest at last within the presence of his deity, “All I have, and all I do not. Take it all."

So she did.

They had no need of words in that hallowed space when bodies and beings connected, skin to skin, and soul to soul.

The breath it would have cost to provide a vessel for their thoughts would have only felt like a barrier between them.

They had no wish for that.

He knew her thoughts. And she knew his. They did not need to share them with the air and fireflies.

For themselves, they gave voice to those thoughts in the lost language of lovers. Spoken in the gasps of breath and sweating palms.Thundering hearts, and hungering lips. Gasping lungs, and grasping touch.

And every thought the same: I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Then came the quiet. The gentle tangle of limbs. Eyes closed, heartbeats aligned. Willing the dawn to wait for them.

They did not sleep. They would not waste time on dreams when they already had everything they could ever hope to find in that untamable oblivion already contained within their embrace.

"It has been some time," Helion said at last, loath to break the spell of the silent commune of their souls, but such was his nature,"I thought the most of you I would ever make love to again was the echo of our last time, the memory of you."

He shifted slightly, so that he could see her face, all peaceful lines and soft curls, her eyes still closed.

"Why now, Hestia? With him," his jaw tightened at the mere mention of that excuse for a male, "So close the risk-"

"Is minimal," she interceded smoothly. Still without opening an eye, she continued." I drugged his wine. He shall sleep until daybreak. At least."

Helion opened his mouth, then closed it, refusing to be drawn off course "You didn't answer my question."

"I thought the answer would be obvious to you, lucky fluke," she murmured.

"You know you reduce me to the wits of a mere mortal, hearthlight," he said, half burying the words in her thick hair.

" Hmm," she hummed, thoughtful, "Must I spell it out for you, then, brightheart?"

"If you would be so good, my lady."

She was quiet so long he thought she might have succumbed to sleep, despite their pact.

At last she said, quiet as an Autumn breeze, " Each morning, when I open my eyes, and watch the sun rise beyond my window, I prepare myself for pain."

He flinched, but she seemed not to notice, continuing calmly.

"This has been my burden to bear through all my years of marriage And I have borne it well, without falter, or complaint.

"I have known pain in many forms, and I have carried every one. But upon the horizon, I saw a new pain. One I had not confronted for so long. And I knew, in my soul, that I was not equal to it. That, at last, I would meet a battle I could not win. And so I found a way to avoid fighting it altogether."

"What did you foresee, hearthlight?" he forced himself to say.

"This war," she murmured, her ever-steady voice cracking in a way that made him pull her closer still. "This war came. And it claimed you. It took you from me when you had not been mine in centuries. And I could not abide that."

"I am always yours," he whispered fiercely.

"Peace, brightheart," she soothed, "I know that. But I had to feel it. I had to erase the idea that last time was the last. I had to have you, and hold you, and love you once more before the end. Or else I knew I could not face this war. Not alone."

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and held it, eyes closed, heart pounding, fighting every urge not to speak the words batting past the lump in his throat. But he had never been as strong as her.

"I cannot let you go this time, Hestia," he groaned, " I cannot sit idly, and smile, and tease while I've willingly let you go again."

"If I can find the strength to do what must be done," she said, with iron in her words, "Then you must find the strength to let me."

"I can't," he said, voice breaking. She found his hand and squeezed it, "I am a High Lord in my own right now, Hestia." he breathed to her." I could-"

"No, you could not." she said, firm, unyielding, a rock in an icy stream, with waters all around, that had not moved in centuries, and would not now.

"There is a war coming, Helion. Win or lose in a fight for me, it would shatter this fragile alliance, and any hope for Pythian. So you will do no such thing." she went on, before he could protest, "For we must win this war. For our courts. For our people. For our freedom. And for our son."

For the first time her voice broke. Before they fell, his fingers had already lifted to wipe her tears. the only ones she would shed. Not for herself. Never for herself. But for her, for their, son... She had never confronted him with it so boldly before.

He closed his eyes, unable to deny her. Unable to even deny her.

"We have to tell him, Hestia," he said, so softly.

"We must," she agreed, "But I have not been allowed to see him in almost three hundred years. And I will not have you tell him alone. As much for his sake as for yours."

He nodded, head bowed.

"Together, then. If I make it through what is to come."

Reaching up she took his chin between her fingers and drew his face down to meet her eyes.

"You will not die this war, Helion," she told him.

Her words flared with that fire she was forced to hide from everyone, everyone but him.

"Because if you try, I will drag the Mother by her hair to your grave and force her to dig you up for me."

He smiled at those words, at the certainty that she would do exactly as she said.

"That almost makes me want to try it, you know," he purred, tracing vague patterns into the bare skin of her shoulder with his thumb as he spoke, "Just to see you do that."

She actually growled at him which, from her, was enough to utterly dissuade him from the notion.

They lay in gentle silence together, until the velvet blackness of night bled to indigo, as the careless artist of time spilled the white she used to craft the stars into the sky itself and melted its darkness.

"I've always found it ironic," he mused, "That being High Lord of Day hasn't blessed me with the power to halt the sun, and stop the day from intruding."

"That is your duty, brightheart." she replied with a soft smile." You must assert yourself upon the land, its sleepy lovers, and restless thieves alike, and force them to make haste and more. Without you there would be no growth, no change, only stagnation and decay."

She cupped his face in her hand, a hand now lined, to show the life she'd lived. Without him. His heart lurched at the thought.

But her voice drew him back to her as she said, "And without Day, the nights would not seem nearly so precious."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her waiting mouth, silent thanks for her words, the feeling behind them. He held her eyes a moment more. spinning out this last bit of thread, like a frugal weaver making the most of fate's allotment.

Then he said, irritably, "I'm still going to have words with Thesan later today."

She laughed as he said that, but she laughed as she withdrew from him.

How fittingly ironic that the sweetest sound he'd ever heard paired in this moment with the bitterest sorrow he'd ever felt.

He watched her as she withdrew the new gown she'd thought to bring. At a silent glance from her he rose, still naked, and helped to seal her back into her cage of cotton and lace.

He combed and braided her hair, as he'd done a thousand times before. Then, heart aching, as it had a thousand times before, he spun a ward around her, to mask his scent where it mingled with hers. She could carry no reminders of this night save fragile memory.

Then, like the night, with one final kiss, she was gone. The chamber felt cold, even as it was bathed in his light.

Wordless, he pulled on a robe and strode onto his balcony to greet the rising of his sun.

It was a hollow warmth, compared to her, and brought him little comfort.

As he gazed ahead into his eternity. Alone, once more. Lonely in a way only she would know. For the world saw the friends he surrounded himself with, and the lovers he brought to his bed, without ever knowing the gaping void in his soul that he could never fill with them.

Closing his eyes, he drew in one last breath of her, of them, their scents still mingling on his skin, then banished it.

He turned towards the light, facing this new day, and begged the Mother to lend him even a fragment of his heartlight's strength that he might face it.

***

#helion spell cleaver #the lady of the autumn court #helion x lady of autumn #hestia vanserra #hearthlight #(that's what im tagging them)#(bc she doesn't have a name so im going OLD SCHOOL SHIP TAG STYLE)#this made me feel things #acotar series #text post tag #long post #my fic #mine #hearthlight fic #helion fic #hestia fic #mama lucien

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thefugitivemango · 4 years ago

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FFAF; unfortunately I’m unsure which muses are yours, so let’s solve that :) can you give me a paragraph summing up each of them? Feel free to add in why you like them so much!

Sure thing! I could talk about my characters all day! I’m like that mom at the park that bombards other moms with pictures of her kids! In true mom fashion, I’ll even talk about them in their “age order”! It’s a lengthy answer, but you asked for it! Literally!

Bey’ron Everblaze ( @lordbeyron ) is one of my oldest and most complex characters. He’s gone through a few rewrites and adjustments, but his main core themes have always been cunning, pride, and a lust for power - and all these shine through in his current and hopefully final iteration. A renown Sin’dorei Magister and member of the esteemed Sun Council, Bey’ron sees himself as something of a puppetmaster on the political stage of Quel’Thalas. While he wouldn’t say it aloud, his sights have long been set on becoming the Sun King. And everything he does moves him in that direction. I love playing Bey’ron because of how others react to his haughty self-aggrandizing, his smug confidence, and his condescending tone. But those who look beyond or wade through his douche-baggery often find something in Bey’ron they can relate to - good or bad.

Argonas the Ironclad ( @argonas ) is a Draenei Vindicator and poster-child for the Light’s Justice! As lawful-good as my characters come, Argonas seeks to protect his people and advance the Light’s design to bless Azeroth, and all worlds beyond it. In his own mind, he’s a paragon! But in reality, he’s not without his shortcomings; grief over losing his beloved wife Sinafay ( @sinafay1 ) plague his motivations as of late. And his acute xenophobia makes it difficult for him to forge relationships with non-Draenei. I love playing Argonas because it’s such an interesting mindset to step into. When does lawful good become more damaging than helpful? How does zealotry undermine purity? And how far over the line can blind faith drive someone? I have a lot of fun exploring these questions and more through playing Argonas!

Gattius Starfrost ( @gattius-starfrost ), formerly Gattius Lightmourn, is a Sin’dorei doctor and Blood Knight reservist. His story began as a story of coping with great loss. His beloved partner Alteris was taken from him during the Pandaria campaign, and he had a difficult time coming to terms with it. But through delving into duties as a medic of a military organization, and reconnecting with his childhood friend (and now beloved wife, @syrielle ), Gattius is proof that helping others also helps one’s self. Playing him is a lot of fun because of how his values and flaws collide. He’s a doctor who chain-smokes like a chimney, supportive of his wife’s political goals though hates the Magistry, feels strongly for many people but regards himself a strong proponent of monogamy, and often lets his good intentions get derailed by his own jealousy. All in all, Gattius is among my favorite characters to write!

Avehi the Adamant ( @avehi-the-adamant ) is easily my favorite character on my roster. The dichotomy of a Draenei Death Knight has long intrigued me! Also a Vindicator like Argonas, Avehi’s path took an abrupt left turn when she died in the Plaguelands serving alongside the Argent Dawn. But her story didn’t end with her death - it was only the beginning! Now an abomination in the eyes of the Light she once so devoutly served, Avehi struggles with maintaining a connection with her fellow Draenei as well as contending with their mass mentality and belief system which casts her out. She’s been especially fun to play and write recently, ramping up into the upcoming Shadowlands expansion! So closely tied to the afterlife, Avehi’s picked up on disturbances beyond the veil. Her investigation has led her to concede on some of the more unsavory powers Death Knights possess in her pursuit of a truth most mortals find too outlandish to believe! As I said, she’s my absolute favorite character at the moment, and I love every chance and opportunity (or excuse) to play and write her!

Brent Sunborn ( @brent-sunborn ), aka Brentius Lor’aran, is an antagonist character written up during my Phoenix Guard days. A former Farstrider who fled Quel’Thalas after the Scourge Invasion, Brent got heavily involved in the Twilight’s Hammer cult. After playing his villainous role in the Guard’s story towards the end of Legion, Brent was reborn as a Void Elf Ghostblade! The fun thing about Brent is his youth. To him, things have always been very binary - good or bad, black or white. But through not only his tenure as a “PG Bad Guy”, but well beyond to even current storylines, he’s learning more and more that things aren’t always one thing or another. Coming to terms with those layers and gradients has been a journey for him. As of late, he’s struggling with adapting to the fall of the final Old God, N’Zoth, and the undoing of the Twilight’s Hammer cult he’s been a part of for so long! Despite now living through TWO end-game scenarios for him, Brent’s story is still very much building up! However, most of it happens in writing and planned interaction. The edgy loner Void Elf Rogue troupe doesn’t play well in-game for walk-ups, I’m afraid. x.x

Grakkar Gorefang ( @grakkar-gorefang ) is an old Mag’har Orc, facing the decline of his life. In his prime, he was a Warsong Raider of great skill, strength, and speed. And while he still possesses those traits, his advanced age is catching up to him every day. Hailing from alternate Draenor, Grakkar was a soldier of the Iron Horde. But following Gul’dan’s assumption of command, he renounced the fel-corrupt organization and fought alongside his Frostwolf mate Neela once more to see Draenor free of tyranny. At least... until the advent of the Lightbound Draenei. Losing his beloved Neela during that dark and terrible time for Draenor, he found comfort and companionship in an unlikely place - alternate Sinafay! ( @sinafay-the-defiant ). Opposing the oppression the Draenei had turned on their Orcish neighbors, Sinafay, Neela, and Grakkar worked together to liberate Orcs taken from their homes and forced to adhere to the Light. Now having escaped alternate Draenor, the two of them live together on Azeroth raising their newborn daughter - named after Neela, their beloved friend and partner who brought them together. Grakkar’s been fun to play as a character unbound by the factional divide. While the Horde saved him from alternate Draenor, he has no strong allegiances to it. And given he’s in love with a Draenei, that’s probably for the best! Still, playing and writing him through the Battle for Azeroth story line has been an interesting and fun experience!

Dahlyah Grimshatter ( @dahlyah-grimshatter ) is a young and outgoing Dark Iron Bounty Hunter. She built her martial experience as an Anvilrage Reservist. She moved on from simple soldiering to become a Mountaineer when the Dark Iron fought back against the Blackrock orcs and Black Dragonflight. But after the fall of Emperor Thaurissan and subsequent rise of Queen Moira Thaurissan, which led to the Dark Iron nation becoming part of the Alliance, Dahlyah separated from formal military service to go freelance! Her father’s something of an antagonist in her story, despite being largely absent. But more will come of that soon, to be sure. She’s good-natured, friendly and amicable most of the time. But once she’s on the job, her fiery Dark Iron blood takes over, and she becomes quite relentless and aggressive! She’s rarely without her trusted hunting companion and best friend, Ridley - a Dark Iron Bloodhound! Dahlyah is a relatively new character of mine, and one I’m eager to flesh out! I’ve always had a love for and interest in the Dark Iron Dwarves since I started playing World of Warcraft, so I was absolutely thrilled when they became a playable race! I’m very excited to play her more and build up relationships and stories for her!

Finally, Tyrellius Duskfury ( @tyrellius ) is a sin’dorei Demon Hunter looking to reintegrate back into society. He’s an older elf who has experienced a great deal in his long life. Formerly a merchant and caravan runner, he became a Royal Guard to help protect his homeland. After the Scourge destroyed the Sunwell, he followed Prince Sunstrider loyally, and became a Blood Knight. Later, he was selected to serve Lord Illidan in an effort to strengthen ties between Prince Sunstrider and the Demon Hunter. He became an Illidari, and fought tooth and nail against the Legion! Now, with the wars against the Legion, Old Gods, and Alliance coming to a close, he’s struggling to rejoin society as peacefully as he can, despite the demons of his past he - literally - carries with him! Tyrellius is my newest RP character, rolled up and fleshed out in just the past 2-3 weeks as of this posting! I’m excited to play him, and build up interactions and relationships to better help his story unfold!

Whew! That was a long one! Thanks @unabashedrebel for the ask! ^^

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 6 years ago

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Pride: Chapter 2

Lila waits for Tommy.

Link to masterlist with Pride: Chapter 1, I hope you like this <3

Lila sat alone at Tommy’s kitchen table second-guessing every choice she’d made in the preceding week. She had moved in with him too quickly, a foolish concession to Tommy’s will. Then she hadn’t even thought to check up on the situation with Grace. She had just assumed that Arthur would send Grace packing, given the circumstances. She could never have guessed that Tommy would order his brother to keep the barmaid.

The remains of a bowl of stew sat before her, and she stared at it despondently, her apatite nonexistent. She thought to herself— He does this. He always does this. He is sexy and charming and dangerously perfect until you give in to him, then everything has to be on his terms

Why did she keep going down the same road with him expecting different results? This lonely night was like so many nights she spent the last time that they tried to make things work, but back then the honeymoon period lasted a bit longer. Back then his attention to her kept stars in her eyes and pink in her cheeks for weeks before he grew cold. Before the waiting started. Back then it was also business that had pulled him away, but there wasn’t another person in the mix.

That was the reality of life with Thomas Shelby; for every moment of ecstasy, there was a moment of torture. Only this time, instead of wondering if he was carved up and bleeding at the hands of an enemy gang she had to wonder if Grace was running her fingertips along his perfect jawline or pressing her lips to the alabaster skin of his throat. The torment of thinking about her body next to his was unbearable. A wave of nausea crept over her and she regretted even trying to eat any stew. A wave of guilt followed when she realized that she would rather worry about him fighting for his life than betraying her with Grace.

Earlier in the night, Tommy had convinced her to leave the Garrison without making a scene and ruining his agenda. But since then, the same question had plagued her mind. Why did Grace disregard what she had seen and heard outside the Garrison on the night that Lila and Tommy had reconciled?

“Lila, let’s go home.” His husky voice had pleaded.

“Home? I want you, baby, but isn’t there someone else you need to consider?” Lila had replied, making sure that Grace could hear.

“I’ll end it. It’s over. She means nothing to me.”

Grace heard him say that she meant nothing to him. Lila had made sure that Grace got an eyeful from the moment she spotted her blond mop glowing in the dim streetlight. From where Grace stood, there could be no mistake in his intentions. Tommy’s hands were grasping at Lila, inching her skirt above her thighs. He had Lila up against the wall and would have taken her right there on the spot if she had let him.

“Lila, let’s go home,” he had begged; not “Let’s go back to mine,” but “Let’s go home.” He had never stopped loving her. Either Grace had no pride and would settle for second best, or she thought that she could take Tommy away from Lila.

But tonight had made that victory seem hollow. Tommy was clearly troubled by Lila’s omission. “Grace saw us that night?” he had asked, stunned. His whole demeanor changed when she told him that Grace had witnessed them making out in the street. He flexed his jaw. He removed his hat and ran his hands over his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me? Eh, Lila?” his voice raised slightly.

“I didn’t think that it was pertinent information,” Lila snapped. “I didn’t know about your fookin’ plan.” At the word plan, Lila held her hands aloft, palms out, like a magician doing a magic trick. She was put out with him and she vacillated between anger and despair, sarcasm and tears. Tommy was not amused.

“Lila, this is important. I’ve put myself and my family out on the line. If things don’t go our way this weekend…” He trailed off, not one to put his fears into words. He finished his cigarette and dropped it on the ground crushing it under the toe of his shoe. As he looked down at his feet he tried to school his face into his usual cool expression, only half succeeding. He was upset with her, but it involved more than just her attitude about his plan. Lila was supposed to be his safe harbor. The one that he could trust above all others to keep him sane. The last thing he wanted was for her to mix with this side of his life.

Tommy put his hat back on his head and sighed. “I need you to trust me. I need to know that I can leave all this shit,” he waved his hand toward the barroom outside the snug, “out there and come home to you. You are the only peace I have in this mad world.” She looked into the eyes that had been so steely earlier and saw a vulnerability there. Tommy never asked for permission to do anything, but he needed her to understand that what he did, he did for them.

Although she was hurt and confused, she went to him. He hung his heavy head on her shoulder and she stroked the velvety nape of his neck. Their mutual frustration faded as they embraced. He felt so right as she molded herself to him, and promised him that she’d be at number 4 Watery Lane when he got there. Her heart was breaking, but for all her tough talk she couldn’t deny him.

In the warm whiskey glow of the snug, he had convinced her that everything was going to be ok. Now, she sat and waited for him while he got up to God knows what. Damn him.

Although her mind told her to leave her heart would make her stay. Because he was the only man that she had ever wanted, because he had a power over her that made sense to neither angels nor men. He was the unyielding earth beneath her feet. Dirty and imperfect, rough, unforgiving, yet solid and reassuring. She stayed because, much to her misfortune, she loved him, and when things were good she felt like warm clay beneath his fingers.

Lila thought back to the night that she and Tommy had reconnected. After a moment’s hesitation, she looked over her shoulder at her past and waved goodbye to the girl who thought things through. All her common sense went out the window when it came to Tommy. It didn’t matter how many times he had taken her love only to break her heart; Tommy Shelby wanted her again and he could have her. He had kissed her lips raw in the street outside the Garrison and told her that they would find a way to make it work. He undid her garters in the alley a block from his place and promised her that things would be different this time. She was gone on the smell of his skin alone by the time they tripped inside his front room, and he made up for lost time whispering promises down the buttons of her blouse.

Lila had been drinking all night, pining after him and longing for the feel of his hands on her, and Grace or no Grace, there was no question how badly she wanted him. “Tommy, I’ve missed you soooooo bad,” she slurred as she kicked out of her heels, tumbling into him.

“Ey, stay with me girl,” he laughed into the crook of her neck. Resourceful as he was, he gave her a line of snow to clear her head. All the world went bright and his smile struck sparks across her skin. The blue in Tommy’s eyes matched the blue of her veins and he traced them all with the red of his tongue.

“God, I need you, Lila,” he breathed as he slid her camisole off of her shoulder. He spun her around and breathed life into her as she slipped under his hands, all of her unnecessary angles slid through his fingers and were lost as he made her perfect. There was no hesitation, no hint of regret between either of them as they were reborn to each other.

When the next morning came she was tangled in his sheets. The fuzzy consciousness of whiskey and snow had been replaced by a million points of sunlight tingling her skin and dazzling the backs of her eyelids. She stretched her sore muscles and smiled at the memory of the night before. Tommy lay still and quiet beside her, and she watched him as he slept, all his features at peace. His scars were illuminated by the dawn like silvery runes that could tell her his story if she could only read them.

The reality of her situation was not as pretty. She was vulnerable; he had always been her weakness. But the night before he had spoken her name like a prayer and given her hope that she could believe in him this time. So she did.

That was only a week ago. It occurred to Lila that even as Tommy woke up the morning after he had promised her the world, he knew what he was going to do with Grace. The bastard had started up their relationship again knowing full well that he was going to string the barmaid along too. His audacity would never cease to amaze her.

Enough reminiscing, Lila thought, as she wiped her eyes and stood up. Her legs had fallen asleep from sitting, so she rubbed the feeling back into them, wincing at the pins and needles that came as the blood flowed back into her calves and feet. She scraped the leftover stew into the scrap bucket and checked the clock. It read 12:30, and with no sign of Tommy, she turned to go to bed. To her mind, there really was no need to wait up.

As she reached the threshold to the room they shared, she heard his key in the lock. Lila froze. Her back was to the door when she heard him come in and his footsteps coming toward her. She squeezed her eyes shut and choked back a sob. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She couldn’t bear to face him knowing that he had been with her. Goose-bumps covered her body as she felt him standing close behind her.

“Lila,” his voice sounded defeated, broken. “I couldn’t do it, love.”

His arms wrapped around her waist and she felt the weight of his head on her shoulder. She ran her hands through his hair then turned around, pulling his face up to hers. “Don’t lie to me,” she whispered through gritted teeth, not bothering to hold back her tears. “Don’t tell me what you think I need to hear, Tommy.”

Tommy pressed his forehead tightly to hers, “I couldn’t do it. All I could think of was you. Fuck the deal. Fuck Kimber. It all means nothing without you.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Tommy had never put anything or anyone before business. But his breath was coming heavier as he pressed his body closer to her, and caressed her back. At that moment she was surer of his love for her than of anything else.

Pride: chapter 3

#Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders fic #pride #peaky blinders fiction

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izumitate · 6 years ago

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in every iteration

I forgot to post this here!! But here’s an immortality/reincarnation AU! Possibly to be continued later?

They never remember, Keishin had warned him so many centuries ago. As much as you want to hope that your love will transcend the limits of mortality, it never will.

I know, Daichi had said, but he hadn’t really known. Not yet.

The first time was an open wound right above his still-beating heart, the pain so acute and bloody that the next twenty-nine years before he could meet his beloved again dragged on jagged and endless. The harvests from the first decade after losing him were spare and sickly. Daichi feels bad about it now, but he’d never been truly despondent until then. Not even Koutarou or Shouyou had been able to raise his spirits.

The second time was even harder. It took three years for Daichi to woo his beloved - this time, a stocky woman working in the stables of her village instead of the young blacksmith that Daichi had fallen for faster than the reddened leaves of a maple in November. Three years in her company, then three years her companion, and then she was gone before the last frost had lifted, along with half her village as the illness spread.

It took a quarter of a century to find her this time, reborn halfway across the world as the best sharpshooter in his village. Daichi dressed the leaves in ruby and flame, and brought with him harvest after bountiful harvest of golden corn and jeweled squash. They kissed for the first time beneath the bone-bare trees and the half-filled moon. They were happy. They made a life together.

But as the years passed, Shigeru and Kentarou began yet another sky-shaking argument, and when the rain meets the surge of the river, there’s nothing mortals can do but try to survive the resulting floods. Daichi’s beloved lost his life while carrying a child to safety, and for the better part of a decade, Daichi spoke to neither of his now-contrite siblings until the storm in his heart could subside, and he could feel his beloved’s soul return to the living plane once again.

The ninth time, he was a court scholar in the confidence of an emperor, and Daichi had to use all his godly tricks to create the chance to get close to him. The twelfth time, Daichi found him on the warm sands of a tiny island, the call of the ocean in his blood. But it had been too long; Daichi could feel the strain of half a century wearing on his darling, and as expected, he passed soon after their long-overdue meeting. The fifteenth time, she was a weaver under the apprenticeship of a master in her beautiful seaside town.

That life, Daichi had time on his side. They met young, and she was healthy and lived well. They should have had years together.

And then she was gone, because if there’s anything mortals know as well as they know love, it’s war.

So it would go, over and over again. Death, rebirth, the tireless search, and the heartbreak when, yet again, they would look upon Daichi with no recognition in their eyes. Every single time. Daichi would know that dedication, that cleverness, that loyalty and humor and gratitude and impossible grace, no matter the body they inhabit. But even if he remains completely constant, in both appearance and temperament, no human memory can carry his love across lifetimes.

By now, Daichi finally understands.

Keishin had tried to tell him, that even more than the pain of losing them stings the pain of knowing they have forgotten every shared moment, every secret told, every precious kiss. But every piece of suffering is worth it, for the moment that Daichi realizes, yet again, that his darling, the other half of his heart, loves him.

There will never be anyone else. And so it continues.

He buries her on a Thursday. Koushi has left his clouds behind to take his favored human form, and he stands close to offer comfort the best he can as Daichi receives the condolences of the other mourners. The sky is gray but clear, as it so often is in this country, and after the rest of the funeral procession has dispersed, he crouches to pat flat the dirt himself, feeling the lifeforce of every plant in the vicinity react to his touch. Overhead, the sun isn’t visible, but he can feel Shouyou’s power coursing through him anyway, the sympathy soaking into his skin.

“Why don’t you come home for a little while?” Koushi asks gently after a moment of silence. He helps Daichi back to his feet, and traces the wrinkles that have set into Daichi’s face after the last sixty or so years. “You’ve been living among humans for so long now, it might be good for you to let go of all this until it’s time to meet again.”

Daichi takes a last look at the cemetery, the stretch of gravestones along the grass, and feels a deep, inhuman tiredness sink into his bones. Koushi is right. He’s been playing mortal for too long. It’s time to return home.

He bends down to leave a final kiss on his spouse’s gravestone before he stands straight and takes Koushi’s hand. The wind thickens, whistling through the cemetery trees as their mortal forms dissolve. When the breeze fades, there’s no sign of them left behind, save for Daichi’s current name etched into marble alongside his beloved’s.

For the next couple of decades, Daichi remains earthbound. He travels around the world, trailing autumn with every step, and when he’s off season, he spends time with his siblings. There’s years and years of news and gossip to catch up on, and even more reminiscing to be done. He walks along crowded beaches with Tooru, and soaks up the moonlight under the star threaded sky with Kei and Keiji. He visits the mountaintops with Shinsuke, and the cliffsides with Aran. Daichi walks through his brother’s rolling fields, laughing when Wakatoshi frowns as he blooms a patch of his flowers too early. He sits high up in the trees next to Asahi as they watch the wildfires eat through another acre of dying forest. He drinks in the sensation of Kiyoko’s snow swirling into flurries around him, and he revels in the sound of Takanobu’s crystalline hail shattering against the frozen pane of ice on one of Kaname’s lakes.

It’s a time for healing, and reconnection. And he enjoys it, he really does, but one day he wakes, and he can feel it again. The call of his beloved’s soul.

He’s realized by now that it takes at least a decade after his beloved’s reincarnation before he can sense their soul again, and then usually several years before he can locate them among the ever growing number of people on the planet. On the rare occasions that he finds them before they’ve matured, he returns to the earth until some years on, when they’re adult enough to be making their own life decisions.

There are some lifetimes that his beloved does not choose him, or has already found someone else to share their heart with, and in those cases, Daichi goes graciously on his way, knowing that there’ll be time again for them to find one another.

It’s been past twenty years since his spouse passed on, and Daichi thinks it might be time to go searching again.

He’s told his sweetheart the secret of his identity exactly twice. It’s not so easy for mortals to believe in gods that walk among them anymore, and even harder to believe that they could share a love so enduring that they would return to one another time and again, so he keeps the truth hidden away. It’s difficult sometimes, to know more about his partner than they know about him, but each lifetime is different, and in the end, there’s always more to learn. Every lifetime is special; every lifetime is treasured.

This time, Daichi has a good feeling about his search. He decides to head out, putting himself in his early twenties to hopefully match his beloved’s approximate age once they meet.

Koutarou catches Daichi before he insinuates himself back into mortal life, tackling him to the ground in excitement.

“Hey, I wanna come along too! It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with humans, and this decade seems pretty fun.” He smiles down at Daichi, and Daichi can feel the crackle of electricity that runs constant in his veins.

“You want to tag along?”

“Yeah, we can say we’re brothers or something! You can show me all the awesome sports mortals play, and I can finally try cold cream!”

“Ice cream, Kou. It’s called ice cream,” Daichi says fondly. “And sure, you can come with, but we better pretend we’re just friends, so it’ll be easier to explain in case you decide you’ve had enough and run off again. I don’t like messing around with their memories if I don’t have to.”

“Alright, that works. Can we go to Japan first? I heard there were lots of great games there!”

“There’s video games everywhere, you know,” Daichi says, but he decides to just go with the flow. He has to start somewhere.

Koutarou loves Japan, though Daichi is fairly certain he loves every place he’s ever taken the time to visit. Given his nature, most of what he sees comes in quickfire flashes, and though he touches down on certain regions much more often than others, it’s rarely long enough to get a feel for mortal life there.

They settle into life in Tokyo, living in a small apartment together near a university that Koutarou decides he wants to try attending. Daichi thinks he’ll get sick of it soon enough, but gets them both enrolled anyway, hoping it’ll help bring him closer to his beloved.

He feels the pull of their soul so strongly that he thinks he must have lucked out and accidentally chose the correct country at the very outset. He should really thank Koutarou for the help if it turns out to be true. It’s been four months since they’ve begun their life in Tokyo, and Daichi still hasn’t made much progress yet, but he also feels so close that it doesn’t bother him. He’s waited much, much longer than this.

Koushi is visiting for a short time, and he and Kou exhausted themselves on karaoke last night, so Daichi sets out early this morning to get some food for them from the nearby konbini before they wake up. They’re not as used to their human forms as Daichi is, and sometimes they surpass the natural limits of their bodies, so out of pity, Daichi will play room service today.

He’s so busy grabbing handfuls of snacks and every kind of onigiri on the shelves that he doesn’t notice the surge in his connection to his beloved until he’s already paid and out the door. His bag is almost overladen with junk food, and he takes a moment to adjust the handles so he doesn’t drop anything, which is when someone comes stumbling right into him.

The impact isn’t very hard, but Daichi finds his chest suddenly wet with what smells like coffee, and then there’s someone else’s face right in front of his, looking embarrassed and apologetic.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize the cap wasn’t on all the way,” says the love of Daichi’s life when they meet for the thirty-second first time.

Daichi is covered in vending machine iced coffee, and his sweater is a size too big, because he forgot how he looks at the crisp age of twenty-two, and he’s probably making the stupidest face because his beloved has the same smile he did about nine centuries ago, but none of this matters because they’re together again, in the same time and place, and his suddenly too-human heart has forgotten how to beat.

“God, I’m not usually such a klutz, I swear. Here, let me help you,” Daichi’s sweetheart says, pulling a whole wad of napkins out of his convenience store bag and walking forward to begin dabbing at Daichi’s sweater.

“Oh,” Daichi says a beat too late, as the other man tries to mop the coffee off him. “Wait, it’s okay, I can take care of that later.”

“No, man, it’s completely my fault. At least let me pay for the cleaning fees.” He’s so earnest and responsible that it makes Daichi’s chest ache. Some things never change.

“No, it’s seriously fine. I’m just going to put it in the wash. But your coffee- it’s half gone now. I’ll buy you another one.”

“What? No, I’m the one who spilled on you! I’m not making you pay for anything.”

“Okay, well, let’s just call it even then,” Daichi suggests, trying not to be obvious about studying everything about him. Bright, knowing eyes, ridiculous hair, and a good ten centimeters taller than Daichi. Daichi would have loved him regardless of what he looked like, but he definitely can’t complain about this incarnation’s appearance.

“If you’re sure,” he says dubiously. “I still feel bad, though.”

Perhaps this is moving too quickly, but it’s a new generation, much different from when Daichi last dated anyone, so he decides he’s going to take a page from their book and just go for it. “Look, if you really want to make it up for me, I guess you can buy me a coffee when you get yourself another one?” Daichi says, hoping it doesn’t come across as too forward.

But his beloved’s expression brightens, and he gives a little grin, asking, “Really? Yeah, I could do that! Right now?” He gestures toward the vending machine behind him, looking so sweetly excited that Daichi already falls half in love with him even though it’s only been about five minutes.

“Sure,” Daichi laughs.

They walk back toward the vending machine, and his beloved stuffs his damp napkin ball back in his bag. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. Y’know, in case you wanted to call me something instead of ‘clumsy loser’ in your head.” He grins kind of sheepishly, then fumbles some change out of his wallet, hastily saying, “Or not. Feel free to forget that. And me.”

Daichi fights the urge to bury his face in his hands. His beloved is already so cute, he can’t stand it. As if he could ever forget that name now.

“Sawamura Daichi,” he finally says, letting a hint of his smile show as he sticks his hand out. “If you wanted to call me by my name. Because it is. My name, I mean. Yeah.” Fuck, this is a disaster. Why hasn’t a millenium of experience made Daichi any better at flirting?

“It sure is, dude,” Kuroo says as he gives Daichi a firm handshake. “So, coffee? Um, do you like hot or cold?”

“Hot for me, please.”

Kuroo buys them their drinks, and then they stand there together outside the konbini, sipping at their coffees while stealing glances at each other.

“So!” Kuroo finally says after a moment. “Do you go to uni nearby? I’ve never seen you around, but you look like a college student.”

“Yeah, I was living abroad for two years, so I only just started this year,” Daichi says, happy to have some point of conversation, and then they’re discussing schools and classes easily, like any two college kids might. Daichi feels so rusty at this, but he also feels completely at ease with Kuroo, especially when their conversation segues naturally into other topics, like clubs and hobbies and their lives. Daichi talks about Koutarou and Koushi, and his other siblings in vague terms, and learns that Kuroo is an only child this time around, but he grew up alongside a best friend whose parents are basically a second family to him. He played volleyball in high school, and he loves chemistry and biology, and when he graduates he’ll be attending medical school.

Daichi takes all this in, fitting in the new pieces with the familiar ones, knowing that he can already see himself living a full life alongside Tetsurou if he’ll allow it.

Their chit-chat comes to a natural lull, and Kuroo takes a second to look at Daichi’s face before he flushes slightly and scratches at his nest of hair, looking kind of nervous.

“Hey, I know this sounds completely crazy, but I feel like there’s something kind of familiar about you, if that makes sense. Like we’ve met before, even though I know I would’ve remembered you. Sorry- I’m just being weird,” he says with a laugh, when he notices Daichi staring.

“No,” Daichi chokes out. This has never happened before. Thirty times he’s gone through this, and never has his beloved shown any sign of recognition, until now. Is it a fluke? Is Kuroo just confused? Has something changed? “I- I, um, I totally understand what you mean. It feels like we could’ve already known each other? Maybe?” he stutters, and Kuroo nods.

“Yeah, like in another life or something,” he says thoughtfully, and Daichi just nods numbly back.

A sudden vibration on Daichi’s leg knocks him out of his daze, and he pulls out his cell phone to see that he’s been sent several whiny texts from the loafers back at his apartment who are wondering where their snacks are.

“Oh, I interrupted your snack run, didn’t I?”

“They can handle a few more minutes without food.”

“Yeah, but I should let you go; I’ve wasted enough of your time today already.”

Daichi nods, because he’s used to this taking time, and he’ll wait forever for Kuroo if he has to. “Thanks for the free coffee,” he says, lifting his can. “And...the free coffee.” He gestures at his shirt, and Kuroo gives him the dumbest, cutest laugh in response.

“You’re welcome for one of those things. Um, this is gonna sound so pushy, but.” And he pauses, ducking his head before looking back at Daichi. “I really feel like maybe we were meant to meet today? Ugh, that’s so cheesy- but- I guess I’m trying to say that it’d be cool if you wanted to hang out again sometime. Preferably without either of us throwing liquids at each other.”

Even if he weren’t already inextricably tied to Kuroo, those eyes would have won him over, Daichi is certain. As it is, his heart is in his throat at the thought of Kuroo somehow remembering one of their past lives together.

“That sounds great,” Daichi says, almost tripping over his words like he’s a teenager being asked on his first date, even though he’s the farthest thing from it. “I’d like that.”

Kuroo holds out his hand, and Daichi, confused, takes hold of it. Maybe casual handholding is what young people do now. It’s nice, to be able to feel Kuroo’s skin against his. It’s both new and familiar.

“Oh,” Kuroo says, his face turning pink. “Sorry, I was- I wanted to put my number in your phone. Not that this isn’t nice too.” Daichi blushes as well, snatching his hand away and dropping his cellphone into Kuroo’s waiting palm.

They trade numbers, both of their faces still stinging pink, and then hover awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of how to proceed.

“So, I’m sorry if the first thing I text you is a horrible picture of my roommate stuffing eighty pocky into his mouth at once,” Daichi blurts out to fill the distance between them, and Kuroo nods blankly back, before giving him a thumbs up.

“I’ll look forward to it. See you around, Sawamura.” He flashes Daichi a smile, the one he’s come to love time and time again, and Daichi lifts his hand to say goodbye.

“ ‘til next time.” Kuroo jogs off, but glances back once, perhaps just to see if Daichi is still there, and he gives a little wave. Daichi watches him go, until he’s gone from sight, and then he collapses against the wall of the store, looking up to the sky for answers in the clouds.

Kuroo Tetsurou. Daichi’s true love, here again. Reunited again, maybe in more ways than Daichi could have ever expected.

A soft breeze brushes around him, and Daichi takes it as Koushi’s reminder to get back to the apartment, so he hurries home with their food, even though the only thing on his mind is when he’s going to next see Kuroo again. It can’t come soon enough.

This is going to be a good lifetime. He’s going to make certain of it.

#kurodai #kuroo tetsurou #sawamura daichi #haikyuu!!#hq fic #reincarnation #immortality #gods au #my fic

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confessions-haikyuu · 8 years ago

Note

If it's not to much trouble, I really liked the idea of the demigod!reader and a human idea that was mentioned earlier. Could you perhaps write a scenario of that, but not too angsty only at the beginning and a super fluffy end? With the character Akaashi, if not a character from Karasuno. Thank you in advance!

AKAASHI (I’m sorry if this one is a lil’ angsty/cheesy… I really tried to balance it out with some fluff ahhhh)!

[Reader’s POV]

Again. Again and again he would be reborn.

He would leave me in this forgotten state of loneliness with nothing but my memories of our relationship, his being, his whole soul that hid in his handsome looks and calm personality. Askaashi lied dead in his body… again. And again I would chase after him. Being a demigod, I am immortal, and his kind - humans- are out of my reach… I can’t blame him for that. And once again, fate has kept us apart.

Not anymore. I will wait. Even if it takes forever. Even if it takes a thousand lives.

[Akaashi’s POV]

I dreamed of your gentle touch. Your soft voice but very loud laughter echoing around in my head. I dreamed of a face, a very pretty face that masked a kind being. A being who mocked me for being so blunt but approved me of my humbleness. You feel so familiar, but who are you?

Isn’t it sad I’ve forgotten about you?

“Y/N?”

[Reader’s POV]

I will wait. Even if it takes forever. Even if it takes a thousand lives. And that’s exactly what I did.

I chased and watched his soul forever and waited through so many lives. Finally, and not ever again, will I let him go. I have found Akaashi.

I made my way down to the human world after not doing so for many years, trying to reconnect with Akaashi. In this life, he was a skilled setter for a powerhouse volleyball team, and he’s still the same as ever: wavy black hair framing his bored, attractive face, a tall, toned body, and the same calm, blunt, modest human I came to adore.

It was night, his eyes tired and his forehead scrunched up in ponderment. He was wearing his high school, Fukurodani, volleyball jacket with his hands placed in his pockets. Akaashi was walking home from volleyball practice, and I was following closely behind on the sidewalk. I could feel the warmth of his soul radiate from his body, and I instantly remembered the way it made me feel inside; though he was human, and I demigod, it felt right… our beings becoming one, being linked to one another other than just dreams, but by reality too. I needed to talk to him, for him to remember me, for us to permanently build something together. But how do I do this? How do I say ‘I’m your demigod soul mate even though you don’t remember’? How do I say ‘I’ve been following your soul around this whole time’? How do I say ‘I love you’?

Should I let him go?

Not noticing how loud I was walking, Akaashi turned around to see who was following him like that… And there he was right before me- staring. I couldn’t say anything, unsure and scared of what to say, so I stopped walking and waited for Akaashi to do something. He looked at me for a long time, skeptical of who I was (maybe trying to scare me off), and then his eyes became softer, the wrinkles on his forehead smoothed out, his smile became softer but more hopeful. He approached me, walking quietly towards my standing figure.

He remembered.

Akaashi stood before me, slowly closing the distance.

‘This is right,’ Akaashi confirmed in his thoughts.

He gently grasped my face and placed his lips upon mine for only a few seconds. As he pulled away, he inhaled my scent, and his eyes bore into mine. No matter how many times, we’ve done this, it always still feels like the first, and it definitely won’t be the last. He let out a small laugh of relief.

“Y/n,” he said just to make sure this was real.

At this point, my eyes couldn’t contain the salt water being stored behind my eyelids.

Is this what humans call crying? After waiting forever, after waiting a thousand lives, is this what it feels like to be happy?

He took my hand in his, blushing and reassuring me instead of being quiet like usual, and we continued to walk together down the sidewalk. It was completely silent, a comfortable silence, until he promised me he wouldn’t forget about me in any of his lives.

After this night, we began to restart our adventures together every single day, and this time, I wasn’t sad about the amount of time I can spend with him… only because I found a way to make him immortal. And, obviously, I made him immortal very quickly, and because of that, we can watch the universe for all eternity.

Akaashi is still the same Akaashi: wavy black hair framing his bored, attractive face, a tall, toned body, and the same calm, blunt, modest demigod I adore, and he adores me back.

-Even if we don’t end up in the same lives, I won’t forget you because time and time again, I know you won’t forget me. No matter what life. Even if it takes forever. Even if it takes a thousand.-

[I feel like I rushed this one, and I feel like I did a bad job on this one, so I will edit it later. I really hope you like this! I worked so hard on it, especially after my computer kept crashing and deleting it! I like this idea though!]

TSUKISHIMA (this one isn’t as angsty bc idk i just idk SORRY)!

[Reader’s POV]

I guess you could say being a demigod had its benefits; you’re immortal, you have your own separate realm, you have powers, YOU HAVE THE ULTIMATE COMEBACKS AGAINST TSUKISHIMA KEI, and let’s not forget the weight of unbearable loneliness as you can never nurture proper love with a human you come to have feelings for. As a bored demigod, I often watch the different souls that roam the human world because humans interest me more than the idiots running the heavens up here do. One soul particularly stood out to me, and that was the shit-head Tsukishima Kei, who in this life, was on a rising volleyball team located in Japan. Why would a demigod like me be interested in a puny human like Tsukishima? For starters, he keeps me entertained; when I visit the human world, I go see him, and I like to listen to his sardonic comments on people. Plus, it is just fun to figure out who he is as a person because he isn’t very open about things. Though he’s so cold, I know he cares a lot, especially about his friend Yamaguchi. His motivations in life also keep me on edge; his philosophies change every volleyball match, and so many people can influence him. I hope in another life he is able to play volleyball because I know he has fun with it even if he thinks male volleyball is ‘just a club.’

To be honest, I like Tsukishima more than a friend… does he even consider me his friend? He has dreams about me I know that, and I know there’s no point in me liking someone who is A. human and B. doesn’t like me back. I’m just tired of feeling lonely like this; you’d think you would be so lucky and cool being a demigod, but it’s just so lifeless. I can’t be with a god or goddess, I don’t like any of these other careless demigods. Heck, am I even supposed to find a lover? I sometimes think I am more human than demigod… though humans are ignorant, foolish, and destructive, they are also passionate, inspiring, and exciting, and that’s what I want to be. If I were to join hearts with a human, I would become mortal, and since I’ve been alive for so long, I wouldn’t really mind experiencing a final life of a mortal; I just want change.

“Tsukishima,” I called.

He made an annoyed grunting sound in which I rolled my eyes to.

“Am I your friend?” I asked boldly, knowing that if I messed up, I can just return back to my realm.

“Tch, I obviously hang around you, so what do you think?” he retorted.

“What about best friends?” I’m pushing myself way too hard.

He didn’t answer and instead sighed while shoving his hands in his pants pockets, still continuing to walk close to my side.

“What about lov-” I was cut short by Tsukishima’s words.

“Y/N, if you’re trying to confess to me, you’re miserably failing,” he stated coldly, not caring about how I’d feel.

I stopped walking.

“Tsukishima,” I very seriously whispered.

“I want to be mortal… and I can’t do that without associating with a human.”

I took a deep breath, waiting for him to comment on my words. He looked as if he was deep in thought. I honestly couldn’t tell what he was going to do. He was so unpredictable sometimes.

“Alright,” he mumbled.

“You mean you’ll-?” I asked impatiently.

“Yes, you’re cool I guess,” he said in an irritable tone with a slight smirk. “Just promise to buy me Strawberry Short Cake every once and awhile and maybe I’ll hold your hand if you don’t bother me too much, mortal.”

“I DIDN’T KNOW TSUKISHIMA HAD A HEART- HE’S MY SHIT HEAD NOW!” I yelled excited to start my new life once everything was official.

“Ugh, baka (idiot),” he called me. I knew he meant it, but I also knew he meant well.

[I like this one bc it’s much more chill but it feels rushed and I feel like I missed some details. Again, thank you for requesting! I hope you’re all doing well! Please feel free to request again! I promise to get better!]

#hq #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #akaashi keiji #tsukishima kei #karasuno #fukurodani #demigod

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spirit-science-blog · 4 years ago

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I know what you might be thinking… The hidden spirituality of the matrix is an oxymoron - because it’s not hidden! And trust me - I get it. Even writing this script was hard, because how do we make this episode without basically just describing every scene in the movie… We could probably write an hour-long dissertation on the spiritual allusions in The Matrix and still not run out of things to talk about…

But listen - it’s important to remember that what might be more obvious aspects of spirituality to some, maybe hidden to others. After all, this is one of the essential points of the movie. So let us get into it and see what we find!

Now, as far as I can tell, The Matrix is a documentary about real-life disguised as a sci-fi action movie! Well, okay, maybe not COMPLETELY, but like… 90%… give or take...

To me, The Matrix feels like an encoded message for humanity about the awakening process, and about what we personally go through internally as we discover the truth, and step into a greater understanding of life. The film elegantly weaves together a narrative of biblical references, genius literary devices, symbolism, fantastic storytelling, and meaningful character moments, giving us a movie that actually becomes something so much more than just a movie… It becomes an idea that stands for something very personal to all of those who connect with it.

Wake up Neo - the screen reads on his computer when Neo is first introduced. Certainly, he’s asleep and needs to wake up, but this is an innuendo, as this very act sets him on the path of awakening to a greater truth of what’s going on.

As the experience of the film occurs within the electrical impulses in our minds as we watch it, we bear witness to this man, Neo, discover that the reality he has been living within is an illusion, as he frees himself from the artificial reality and moves into the real world, a place where humanity is grown in tubes as an energy source for artificially intelligent robot overlords… Although, we have to say Matpat and the film theorists did a pretty good job of demonstrating that the real world that we are shown in the movie, is just another layer of encoded reality within the matrix. It’s completely brilliant, and I recommend watching that after this.

Anyway, Neo - a name which is an anagram of One, is set upon this path of self-discovery, learning that he is in fact - the One - the prophesied individual who can liberate humanity from the control of the machines. His story, which ends with his death, rebirth, and ascension - largely draws upon the stories of Christ. Like Jesus, Neo was prophesied to arrive, performs miraculous feats, dies and resurrects… but like, in a more modern kind of way. In fact, if this wasn’t made clear by the end of the film, we are told it outright right at the beginning, when the guy at Neos door says “You’re my savior man, My own personal Jesus Christ ''. Although - it might be worth mentioning that Neo is more of a Gnostic Christ, than straight-up Jesus, in that much of his own liberation happens through the breaking of illusions, a common idea within Gnosticism.

Speaking of spiritual and religious allegories, we also see the matrix speak on Samsara, a Buddhist concept of the cyclical nature of the world, and even sometimes taken to mean “"a cycle of aimless drifting, wandering or mundane existence". Much of Buddhist philosophy speaks of freeing yourself from the cycles of Samsara - and this is demonstrated as Neo frees himself from Matrix, the world where he is Thomas Anderson, a boring old programmer for some big company... but then this process continues, for Morpheus continually guides him after that to “free his mind”.

The idea of freeing yourself from one reality and birthing into a new one is a concept that spans far back into history in other ways too. Diving into the ancient mystery schools, we see spiritual death and rebirth being something that initiates actively strived to experience. This was an ego death, the death of the old illusion, the old self, and birthing into a new reality, something that Neo does twice in the film, first in his transition between the matrix and the real world, and second when he is killed by Agent Smith and is reborn moments later by the power of love. Yet, all of this comes about as a result of something very significant in the earlier part of the movie… News choice.

As we know, Neo is brought to a meeting with Trinity, who is named after the holy trinity. We see several trinities in the movie, including the partnership between Neo, Morpheus, and Trinity, but also with Agents Smith, Brown, and Jones. The film even begins and ends with room 303, and on that note, Neo's room is 101, he is the one after all.

When Neo and Morpheus meet face to face, Morpheus explains that nobody can be told what the Matrix is, you have to be shown, and offers him the decision between the red pill, or the blue pill. Now, there are several layers to this, but for now, let’s focus on this.

For Neo, it all boils down to this choice - the truth, or living whatever life, whatever fantasyland he wants to live out. Sometimes we make our choices for granted, but the hidden lesson here is that we are regularly invited to make this choice every day of our lives. By our very actions, what we do on a day to day basis, what we spend our time doing, in doing all these things we are choosing if we want to create and live a life of discovery, of experiencing greater truths or just enjoying the illusion of the world that is put in front of our eyes. Of course in the film, Neo picks the red pill and undergoes an experience of his consciousness reconnecting with his true self in the real world, and waking up there.

This describes the discovery of truth, and it completely shatters his understanding of everything, but further illustrating an important aspect of the awakening process. We could relate this with a plant medicine experience, sometimes the plant medicine will show you something very difficult to experience, it might even make you purge, but once you’ve come to terms with it, you begin to grow exponentially as a person, which happens as Neo learns to fight, rapidly downloading all of these fighting methods over the course of the day.

But the concept here of shattering illusion is really something that happens to all of us in life, with or without plant medicine. For example, growing up in the world we are often taught or shown specific ideas, ideologies, along with tons of media programming that gives us this particular image of the world, but then later you realize something greater, maybe it’s that those advertisements were showing you really fun or exciting images to sell you something unhealthy…. candy and soda industries, I’m looking at you!

But the matrix takes us way deeper down the rabbit hole than just this and speaking of rabbit holes, it very openly gives us several references to Alice in Wonderland - an age-old story about a girl who breaks free of her everyday reality into a strange and different world. And where the matrix goes is that it invites us to ask, what if this entire reality is an illusion, a construct within our minds, an illusion we’re collectively living out?

What’s especially amazing about this is that it’s actually completely true, in three different ways. One is that everything that you ever experience is all information that is relayed within the brain. When you stub your toe, it's your brain that identifies the pain, and Morpheus explains this by asking neo “what is real? How do you define real? If real is what you can feel, smell, taste, and see, then 'real' is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain.” Giving rise to the deeper understanding, that ALL is WITHIN.

The second way the matrix describes that all of reality is an illusion is that we are now seeing today that everything we think of as the physical universe, on a quantum level, is almost entirely empty space, and little bits of quantum data flying around giving us the perception that reality is tangible and solid. The matrix describes this by the idea that reality entirely exists within a really big VR MMORPG simulation of 1999, and reminding us that there is no spoon, it’s not the spoon that bends, it’s you! Everything is an energetic reflection of you!

And third, perhaps one of the most direct revelations about reality being an illusion, is that the film gives us this indicates that we have become so saturated with digital media, advertisements, and programming, that we have lost all sense of what is really real. A lot of our deeper, more intimate personal connections with each other are lost because we have become glued to our technology instead, and the matrix subtly illustrates this by the contrast of reality inside the matrix, versus the outside.

The film essentially illustrates the concept of collective consciousness, a collective dream, and this is another bridge to the world today. See, Morpheus is named after the Greek God of Dreams - whose name literally means “one who forms” - giving us this idea of Morpheus as a bit of a guider of dreams -almost akin to the Greek Psychopomp, helping Neo navigate the various planes of reality that he walks in. Further, the Greek Morpheus used these two Gates - the gates of horn and ivory, to distinguish dreams that were real, and those that were illusions. This is another layer that is implied by the two pills earlier on. We also see Morpheus’s ship, the Nebuchadnezzar, which is a biblical reference of a king who was haunted by his dreams, and as evidenced by the story - the living world does seem to be a bit like a nightmare.

Astro-mythologically, we can gain even more insight here by learning about Neptune, which tells us that we are dreaming our reality into being, but that we must be mindful that some things are seductive illusions, but there are a greater truth and reality to be discovered. But in that, we are invited to draw upon our creative imaginations to dream a world into being that is in harmony with the rest of the natural world. In the matrix, the people who live in it don’t know about their octopus spider bot overlords, and they don’t really care, because they are concerned with other days to day things. So… what reality are they collectively dreaming? Well, one where they go to work and live their lives, and nothing out of the ordinary ever happened…

Cypher illustrates this very well with his betrayal, mirroring the betrayal of Judas in the bible a little bit. See, cipher turns over Morpheus to agent smith, and as he’s monologuing (giving Tank some time to get his gun), he explains his thinking, mirroring one particular mindset that is not uncommon in today's world. You call this free? He asks, alluding that the reality in the matrix is so much more diverse, with more possibilities for freedom than the “real world”. Cypher wants to return to that old way of life, to the world before he was awoken, but this is a fool's errand, once you know the truth about something, there’s very little forgetting, except in cipher's case, where he was going to have his mind erased.

Now, speaking of villains, we also must talk about Agent Smith. During the scenes where he’s got Morpheus, trying to extract the codes, he says some very interesting things… He begins by reflecting upon the collective unconscious, the same thing we just looked at, and then recounts the history of the matrix, explaining how people define their reality through misery and suffering, a perfect world was not meant to work, they tried it, but to no avail.

Logically - he’s not wrong, because, at this stage of human history, we are in a stage of suffering, though as many wisdom teachings would describe, we are simply passing through between two golden ages of light. This is evident even today, there’s so much suffering because we haven’t yet learned how to live in harmony with each other and the planet, and so the machines actively encoded the matrix to be based around the average level of consciousness of the people, whose minds populated the matrix.

Hmmm… What the robots didn’t try though - was starting their simulation in the 1999 world and then creating an evolutionary program to help humanity learn and heal and become harmonious beings… But then again, maybe they wouldn’t do that, because this particular AI consciousness didn’t have a heart, as we learn in the sequel film, they have wiped the matrix several times, and have become exceedingly efficient at it.

But in addition to that, he also says this very interesting thing… Humans are not actually mammals…. mammals create an equilibrium with the surrounding environment. You move to an area and multiply and use all of the resources, and the only way you can survive is to spread to another area… There is another organism on this planet that follows this pattern… it is a virus.”

A very deep and heavy-hitting line, especially right now, given our current situation. We are invited to see that our behavioral patterns and the way that we live our lives are not in harmony with the world, but it could be - if we would all wake up, just as Neo is doing throughout the movie.

Agent smith describes that he doesn’t like the smell of people, he can’t stand it, and he wants to get out, he wants to be free of this prison, this zoo, whatever you want to call it. Now, I know his intentions are not very good, but him explaining his feelings like this actually might give us a little bit of compassion for Agent Smith, who really wants to live a higher life himself, exist in a higher reality, but he can’t because he’s programmed to have to wrangle all of the humans together, and as long as Zion exists - a biblical reference to Israel - he cannot ascend in his own right…

At any rate, throughout the entire Morpheus rescue, and then fighting Smith afterward, Neo continually believes in himself more and more, until he comes to be the embodiment of a fully ascended being. When he returns to life and takes out Agent Smith, we see him take a moment to do some full-body breathing, and he breathes life through the walls around him as well, showing his interconnection with the energy and computer code that makes up all things.

I wonder when he died if his consciousness entered the space between his physical body and his matrix body, and when he returned back to life, he brought with him some deep wisdom about the workings of the universe, and that’s why he could see the code. This is no different than what many people report after having a near-death experience!

And we’re still just scratching the surface here. One aspect of the film we haven’t discussed was the visit to the Oracle, this all-knowing wise woman who guides all awakening souls through the matrix. The plaque above her door says “Know thyself” - something that Neo does by the end, but a rather significant line of hers was “Don’t worry about the vase”, and then he does it. She follows this with “what’s really gonna bake your noodle… is would you still have broken it if I hadn’t said anything?” The reason this is significant is that the oracle leaves him with some wisdom and advice ‘you’re not the one kiddo’ - advice that ultimately leads Neo to believe in himself to save Morpheus, to putting others in front of himself. But if she hadn’t told him that, would he have gone to save Morpheus?

Much like a few of the other movies we’ve covered, the matrix carries a multitude of layers of spiritual depth - some which are laid bare for all to see, and others that require a little bit deeper exploration. So please, take a moment to let us know in the comments, do you think the matrix is about our world or is it just a sci-fi action film for entertainment purposes only?

#spirituality #science #ascension #mystery school #spiritscience

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theroadfromustome · 6 years ago

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Mile 62

Well, this last mile has been a full one. Which is another way of saying that yet again, I’ve neglected posting for too long (a month maybe?). It feel like the weather has gotten warmer and everything has amped up. Buckle in, bc this is going to be a big spew, a catharsis of lots of things I don’t feel like I can say to anyone else; though of course I have been yakking to everyone about some of this.

First, the ugly: Going another round with H’s mother. I’ve realized how much of my years with H were spent managing her extremely fragile emotions. It’s exhausting. This time she outright told me that I didn’t respect her--of course if she respected me then she wouldn’t jump to the worst conclusion about my motives for my actions regarding MY child. It just infuriates me so much--and she totally defies all reason and logic and manages to make me feel like an inconsiderate, irresponsible jerk for not being omniscient or ordaining the universe. Another realization: she has always and will always treat me like an incompetent child and I am fucking DONE with it! I need her to move away. Not that it will end this shit, but it will hopefully make it less frequent and less potent. I now understand why my [current] sisters in law keep her at arm’s length.

Also, regarding H: he’s so guarded everytime he’s around me. He’s like a big black cloud of tension and I feel like he brings shadows whenever I have to see him even briefly. What a reversal. Can it only be three months since I moved out? Poor thing, I gather he’s going through a rough patch right now, and possibly at slight odds with his dear mama as well. I do wish he would answer my legitimate inquiries about schedule though. I wish we had a better flow of comm, but he acts like I have a disease that will be communicated through the keyboard. So far things are passing between me and my mom and him. Which I know is not the adult way but like...if you won’t talk to me like a calm adult? He and his mom seem to be casting me as the enemy--but even combatants have parleys under a flag of truce. We have to resolve this sometime, but I’m perfectly willing to avoid it until he heals a bit more and is less dangerous to my peace of mind.

Ugh, just writing that out made me tense. On to the good!

The good: I’ve lost 17 lbs since January when I started this diet with my mom. I feel great this week too, bc I’m able to be more active with this nice weather. I also feel more productive at work, so all things are good. This all may be due to the next big event in my life detailed below momentarily; but I will say this: as the earth comes out of ice and is reborn to spring, so I feel reborn. This past week I have danced, grinned, sung, reconnected with musical theatre, etc. (and before that wrote!) in a way I haven’t in months. Some of this is due to this event--but I realize that before I get there I need to fill in one other item...

I went to visit an old friend from college, whom we will call S. This friend has been crazy about me since probably our second week of freshman astronomy, and it’s one of those where I’ve tried to make it work before and it just...won’t. This friend has stuck by me through all of this shit, and knows all of my flaws more intimately than almost anyone. He’s a complete vessel--a listener who won’t judge and who cherishes me no matter what. Which I know I take advantage of. Other than my mother, he’s the most unconditional relationship I have. If only he had his shit together and wasn’t illogically conservative. (We do NOT talk politics.) Also a bit sexist and racist--not that he’d ever act on them. For the sake of this bond we have I choose to ignore/avoid all that, but this is one of the reasons we just can’t make a relationship. But that doesn’t mean my visit was strictly platonic. I flatter myself that I contributed to his well-being in significant ways, but I definitely selfishly reveled in the experience of being cherished, and of the fierce, wonderful trust we share. I could cry just thinking about it--I can be so honest with him, about my ups and downs. And best of all: we are equals. Peers, partners, equals!!! I have never had that with a man. No matter the relationship. I find it sublime and somewhat irresistible. Even though I know it’s so unfair to him; bc we both know it can’t last forever. Anyway, that whole things has been good for me. Probably also bad in other ways. But it has reawakened a part of myself I thought gone forever, and that part is stronger than I ever remember it being. Trust and complete comfort are heady heady things.

So from that we proceed to...drum roll...

I actually went on a date Saturday night. This is what I’ve been driving all my friends crazy about, and I hate myself for being such a spaz. They’re all darlings, but really, I need to get over myself. Which is why I’m going to try to exercise as much as possible here.

So yeah, one of my coworkers has a brother. A brother who it turns out--came to visit our workplace months ago and was checking me out. Who then asked *repeatedly* to be introduced to me. Who, after I met him last month friended me on fb and then messaged me out of the blue about 2 weeks ago. Now, this man is brilliant (he’s a scientist--sexy and ridiculously intimidating at the same time), sophisticated, independent adult with a well-paying full time job and actual talent; he’s so freaking charming and good-hearted, he’s witty and considerate and he swing dances (swoon--if I dance with him my ovaries may never recover); not to mention my coworker is thrilled at the prospect. He’s also 5 years older than I am--I wasn’t exactly looking for age gap, but... Anyway, I’m still getting my brain to process the fact that he actually wants to spend time with me. Because his whole family is immortal--brilliantly talented, beautiful etc. And then there's me mere mortal with my messy-ass family. And all my baggage. And the fact that I’m trying desperately to crawl out of diapers and grow into a legit adult. I’m gonna throw some thoughts out below in no order or reason:

So the age gap: I was hoping to avoid it. After the good experiences of equality with S, who is only months older than I, I am wary of falling into the naive child role again. I am determined to be am equal adult, and yet already I feel myself pulled to alter my behavior--I can be so silly with S, and I feel like Charming here would think me immature--when around this guy. Also, he’s into scifi and have only moderate xp there, also he hikes and camps--the idea of hiking with him actually sounds utterly lovely (talk about day-dreaming), camping... But I mean I’m willing to try--I’m just so wary of losing myself again. Of putting his needs above mine and doing whatever I can to keep him from rejecting/punishing me. It’s so frustrating yet again how easily my bad habits kick in like clockwork.

Speaking of my neurosis: I am WAY too invested in this. Super fixated. Some might say I’m obsessing. Which I suppose has always been my way with boys. But you’d hope I’d behave differently at 31 than I did when I was 12, 14, 15. So first I was mooning and daydreaming about him while grinning like a complete dope and humming songs (like, full out cliche) Sunday and Monday, and then I was stupid and was overtly flirty (like dude back off AB, you had *one* date) on Monday evening and he just--wham--dropped communications. I’ve heard nothing from him since, and I’m using all powers of mind control I possess and prayer (sorry God) to will him to just message me for like 5 minutes so I know he still likes me, that I didn’t freak him out by behaving like a silly girl. I so want to do this like an adult, but apparently I am incapable. If this doesn’t happen, like fi we don’t work out, then fine. But I’ll be crushed if it’s bc of my inherent flaw of childishness. And what if it is inherent? What if I cannot actually function in an adult relationship?

That’s another thing--I am so putting the cart before the horse. Like we met, we chatted twice, and then we spend 5 hours eating Thai food and walking all over his neighborhood. He should not be and *is* not the center of my universe. I’d like to think I wouldn’t be behaving this stupidly if he hadn’t kissed me. I’d like to think I could be cool and removed and totally ok with the fact that he seems to be compartmentalizing the amount of time he spends with me (his job is hell, apparently; another red flag, but he’s so charming....) if he hadn’t kissed me. So I wasn’t sure how to gauge it--were we just two adults enjoying each other’s company? I know he thinks I am cute--but physical attraction doesn’t mean he actually likes me. I mean, I think he was flirting with me--the body language was promising, I’m fairly certain he was nervous at the beginning (but it’s a date who wouldn’t be?), and he like, touched me arm and such you know the way you do when you’re just broaching physical contact. And then when I left I went to hug him and...it was not a platonic hug. It was brief but...there was...heat...a tiny little simmer. And then, there was a second hug, and he briefly, subtly, turned into my neck and placed a quick little kiss there. It was chaste as hell, a bit uncertain I think, but it changed everything. I mean I dunno maybe it was just quarter to midnight and goodwill talking. Maybe he’s just affectionate and that was his way of saying “Thanks for a good time.” Maybe it all goes back to the sex and it’s purely physical? I just--I have such a hard time thinking he actually sees anything in me bc I’m so--uninteresting--I’m not ambitious or successful, I’m insecure as fuck, I have plenty o’ baggage, I’m not cosmopolitan or well-read or witty. All I have is the loyalty and affection of a--child. I gather it’s been some time since he’s been taken care of, and of course that appeals to me, taking care of him, but maybe he likes being self-sufficient? He certainly is. And again!!!! It’s too soon for me to be thinking this way. But I just do this. What is my problem??? I keep thinking once he gets to know me he’s going to bail. And at this point that would hurt more bc it would mean my weaknesses had caused me to fail again than bc I’m madly in love with him, but still. The more I invest the worse it will be when this whole thing crashes. But I can’t not give it a try--even if I see eminent disaster on the other side. I keep hoping my instincts will be proven false.

On a lighter note: I am ridiculously physically attracted to him. Like--keep daydreaming about kissing him...and other things...

I just--why am I so fixated on this? Why is he the only thing I can think about? I have a life! I can’t just be marking time until I see him again. GET A GRIP, AB! I keep singing “He is not thinking of me” to myself. Bc I guarantee he is going about his business as usual--like a fucking adult--and taking Saturday night for what it was: a pleasant evening.

Nonsequitur: If he doesn’t message me in the next few days I may implode.

Also, I just wish for some clarity. It’s like dating Jane Bennett. No clue if he’s just being nice or....?

Why is my professional performance so tied to whether or no a man is interested in me? What the hell is that about?!!!

I will say this--it’s nice to feel romance again. I feel like me again. The bitter gone-by feeling I had at my cousin’s wedding is banished, replaced by all the hope and cheer of spring and things beginning. Also, showtunes again! Singing again! I could go into “Bewitched, bothered and bewildered” but that song is too cynical. Instead, I’ll end with the line that was running through my head all day Monday:

“I don’t know why I can’t think of anything I would rather do than be wasting my time on mountains with you.”

And now, off to church!

#more rmabling soon probably

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theothersidepress · 7 years ago

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Eleven Years of Wisdom

http://ift.tt/2tjSdAE

I have an 11-year-old son with special needs, my post will be very long because he has told me much lately, and I wanted to share it with people who may understand him… I don’t, nor have I ever believed in anything like this, but he explains it so casually:

Brandon has always been a quirky kid, atypical from boys his age in the sense that he’s not interested in sports or cars and has what I’ve always referred to as an old soul.

When he was around five years old, he told me about his past life and how he died in a “jet crash.” I smiled and laughed it off as to his being creative, although he’s always had an almost positive attitude about death being just the beginning.

Today we had a heart to heart, he is now going on twelve years of age, and he gave me his thoughts on death. To my surprise, he instantly brought up the jet crash from his past life, insisting that he lost control of the engine, nosedived into the ocean, the force of the impact killed him, and the far left engine and gas tank burst.

He said it was not scary at all once he was dead, that it was about thirty seconds of darkness, that time goes by very very fast, a past relative comes and talks to you but you can’t remember what they say, and then you see the light… but the light is actually when you first open your eyes being born again.

His final words to me on this subject were: “if you seriously remember how you died, you need to tell me because no one will believe you, and it’s possibly because everyone is stuck in a time paradox, and it makes you special because you can remember your previous life, and might know how you’ll die in this life.” He insists he will die in an air crash again in this life, saying he will have to go do a report.

I picked Brandon’s brain for hours tonight, wish I would have taken notes. He is so sure of many things and kept saying how life is a “time paradox,” it can never make sense unless you remember your previous experiences.

When I asked him why children suffer from disease and die early, he said, “it’s more simple than you think.” We grow and learn from them, they die and are then reborn, and in their next paradox, they are disease free.

When I asked him about tragic accidents, like car crashes, fires, or drownings, he said “Simple, again. It’s destiny. It was meant to be in this paradox depending on decisions in your past lives.”

But as a seeker of Justice myself, I had to ask him about murderers, the worst of the worst evil beings. Surely they rot in hell amongst the devil for eternity?? No, not at all. Brandon says there actually is no devil and “the entity” is “eternal peace,” but will teach you a lesson in your next life to help you learn.

The soul of an evil person will be reborn into a very good, innocent person in the next life. For example, the soul of an evil man may be reborn into an innocent girl. Something brutal will happen to her, and when she dies, the soul will have experienced what it had inflicted in the lifetime before.

The lesson will be learned, and the soul will be reborn as a better person.

He said in the 30 seconds of death’s darkness and meeting with the relative and entity, years and years actually pass by in Earth’s time, until you are reborn and reconnect with the same souls from your past lives, because “we are here to help each other figure it out.”

I couldn’t help but feel a bit sad because this is all against what I believed at his age. I asked him about my grandma Diane, how she always prayed to the Virgin Mary and wouldn’t she be disappointed if she didn’t exist? Brandon laughed and said, “she does exist. They all exist. Every religion is really talking about the same entity.”

He says the entity is very kind and shows you your entire life very quickly and you judge yourself. “If you show remorse, it shows remorse.” He also claims that before you can even learn to speak, you know all the languages in the world, and as you grow, you forget. This is why children lear a foreign language easier than adults.

He says he likes to research these things because of his jet crash when he was in the air Force, and that research is just theory… But that all the research can never compare to what he KNOWS from his experience.

And for all you pet lovers, he says that our religion says animals don’t have souls, but that is totally wrong. Your pets get reborn too and you meet again in your next time paradox. Finally, in regards to “God,” Brandon says to think of him as the “Father of all time. He resets it over and over so you keep on living.”

Author information

Jenny Lynn

from The Otherside Press http://ift.tt/2tuQa0L via IFTTT

#IFTTT #The Otherside Press

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rabbirose · 7 years ago

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Two Thoughts, a Bit of Parshah, and a Plug

I’ve just returned from a wonderful two weeks away with my family. Many thanks to Cantor Vitells, who stepped in to help with some important moments in the lives of CST members. Thank you to Bob Horenstein and Burton Francis, each of whom gave a Shabbat d’rash in my absence. Thank you to the excellent CST staff for helping every day, and thank you to the congregation for making my time away possible. Travelling through Oregon reconnected me to the beauty and power of the world HaShem made, I spent precious and unforgettable time with Channah and the three Rosebuds and I had enough time and quiet to be inspired and and moved by some Jewish texts I studied along the way.

So much happened in my absence. Initially I thought I would try to weave it all together in a big tapestry. Better, I think, to just offer some brief reflections.

Anti-Semitism and the Left. Jewish participants in the Chicago Dyke March who brought a rainbow flag with a magen david were asked to leave. Reading the headline, I assumed that there had been some misunderstanding and that an apology would be forthcoming. Well, the organizers of the march issued a statement clarifying (helpfully, I guess) that in fact they are anti-Zionist. These people who use the label progressive are against the existence of a Jewish homeland to be a stalwart against the longest standing hate and system of oppression in the Western World. Unfortunately this is not an isolated event. You can read the ugly statement of march organizers here. And another good article here. We have enough to worry about with neo-nazism and white supremacist movements in vile and corrupt blossom in our nation. Now those who support causes Jews overwhelmingly support - equality, religious freedom, justice, anti-hate, among others - are espousing jaw dropping ignorance and hate? What do we do? What we do not do is disengage and write off allies in some causes for good. I still believe that truth and relationships change minds. And we inform ourselves. Read widely about Israel. Not just the easily digestible stuff that feels good to read. Read also the tough stuff that delves into difficult and complicated aspects of Israel’s past and present. Read biographies of Israel’s founders and leaders, both the hagiographic stuff but also more tempered and historical material that seeks true understanding. The two most recent books I’ve read on Israel are the brilliant Yossi Klein HaLevi’s Like Dreamers and Ari Shavit’s My Promised Land, and I’m now working on Danny Gordis’ Israel: A Concise History of a Nation Reborn. We should read widely and honestly to remind ourselves of why we are proud to be Zionists and why Zionism matters so much.

The Western Wall Controversy. The Israeli government dropped plans to allow all Jews equal access to and use of the holiest site of Judaism, the kotel. Oy. Israel, I love you but you are hurting me. I am committed to you and to Torah - please don’t push me away. We need each other! Here too - what can we do? Become informed about progressive Judaism (non-Orthodox movements) in Israel. Support Women of the Wall, whose website is here. Support the Israel Religious Action Center, which works for religious freedom in Israel. Learn about Masorti (Conservative) Judaism in Israel. Most important, go to Israel as soon as you are able to do so. Reconnect with this magnificent place which is at the center of our history and our story. When you are there go to the Wall. Not as a political statement, but as an expression of religious yearning and connection to your people.

A Brief Vort on Parshat Balak. The Moabites see the Israelites surrounding them en masse. They are anxious not about any preparations for battle that they see (indeed they have been promised that Israel will pass through peacefully) but rather about Israel’s sheer numbers: ki rav hu, [Israel] was numerous (Numbers 22:3). Their leader Balak sends a message to the non-Israelite prophet Balaam and asks for his help cursing this people that is so multitudinous that it covers the view of the land (verse 5):

I know that the one you bless is blessed, and the one your curse is cursed (Numbers 22:6).

That sounds familiar. Back in Genesis God says to Avraham:

And I will bless those that bless you, and curse the one that curse you; and through you all the families of the earth will be blessed. (Genesis 12:3).

Balak (knowingly or not) seeks to use Balaam as a counterpoint to God’s blessing. Aside from his attempt to negate the divine promise of blessing, he sees as a curse precisely that which God has said is a blessing. Further on in Genesis God promises Avraham:

I will multiply your seed as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand upon the seashore (Genesis 22:17).

Remember, it is the number of Israelites that has made Balak nervous. Their mere existence - that which is precisely the evidence of God’s blessing - is to him a curse.

Sometimes when we seek to bring blessing into the world there will be those who will try to halt it, or to curse it. Sometimes acts of goodness are met with antipathy. Those ‘Balaks’ who are motivated by fear will see all blessing as curse. Sometimes we are Balak, threatened by a wellspring of blessing that calls for a change in our world. We fight it and fight in until, God willing, we come to understand that we need only accept it to be blessed.

Visit from Bilal Mosque July 16th at 4pm. Please join us for this important and beautiful event of coming together and sharing.

Shaarie Torah is proud to host a visit from our friends at the Bilal Mosque. I and other members of Shaarie Torah have visited this Beaverton Mosque in the past and received a very warm welcome. Now it is our turn to welcome people who trace a common ancestry to Abraham and monotheism. For centuries, we have shared many similar values, guidelines and principles. Members of the mosque community will join us in a conversation about contrasts and connections between Judaism and Islam. In addition, we will get to know one another a bit on a personal level, as we sit and share some delicious food. Finally, we will give our guests a tour of the Sanctuary so they can see and understand objects and ideas in the Jewish tradition that are precious to us.

With all the divisiveness and mistrust in our culture right now, moments that offer dialogue across differences and opportunities for understanding are so important. Please join us for this interesting, delicious, and fun gathering. Please RSVP HERE for this FREE event.

Shabbat Shalom

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