#she can feel her daughters spiritual energy from a mile away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

drwcn · 4 years ago

Note

I loved your fem lwj take on things. How would thibgs go if WWX was the lady? Other than ppl assuming she stood up for the Wens bcs she jad feelings for WN ( and that Yuan was hers)

Heyyy friend, I think I’ve seen a couple of girl!wwx fics floating around in ao3 so i certainly won’t be the first :P.

Also I completely misread your ask initially, I thought you were asking me what I think would happen if A-Yuan was WWX’s kid, and I was like oh?? But then I realize wait... I can make it worse.

Today, I decided that my mortal soul doesn’t matter, so here we go. Let’s see how accursed I can make this idea:

[1]

It started with Jiang Cheng. Jiang Wanyin had set out for the Burial Mount with the explicit goal of throttling speaking with Wei Wuxian, but what greeted him at the entrance of the “Demon Subduing Palace” — more of a cave than anything really — was not his martial sister, but Wen Ning. Well, what had once been Wen Ning.

Black veins ran across his pale, ashen face, down his equally ashen neck , and into the major veins beneath his clavicles covered by the collars of his black threadbare robes. Lifeless eyes, white as his skin, stared into a void the living could not see. There were talismans littering his body, and Jiang Cheng knew that when he spoke to this fierce corpse, he was not speaking to the young Wen boy, but to his mistress who controlled him with her demonic cultivation.

Wei Wuxian refused to face him. Refused him explanation. Refused him closure.

“Er-jie!” Jiang Cheng screamed into the stony expressionless face of Wen Qionglin. “If you continue to protect them, then I can’t protect you!!”

There was no response.

Suddenly, just as Jiang Cheng was about to kick and fight his way into the cave, Wen Ning thrusted out his right fist, and in his grasp was a piece of purple silk. Jiang Cheng unfolded the silk, vaguely recognizing that it had been cut from someone’s robe, and saw what was wrapped within was a slip of parchment.

割袍断义*, the paper read. Tell the world that I, Wei Wuxian, first disciple of Yunmeng Jiang has forever defected (Note: 割袍断义- to rip one's robe as a sign of repudiating a sworn brotherhood (idiom)).

With this, there was nothing left to say. Hurt and furious, Jiang Wanyin threw the piece of parchment onto the dirt ground, grinded his heel down on it, and left the Burial Mount without ever having drawn Sandu.

Inside the cave, Wen Qing held Wei Wuxian’s hand. “Why won’t you just tell him? He’s your brother; he can help you, you can —”

Wei Wuxian’s mile long stare seemed to be gazing at something — someone — very far away. Slowly, she placed her other palm over her belly, which horrifically was already starting to round out. “Nobody can help me now, Qing-jie.”

“I can,” said Wen Qing, blunt as ever. “I can make it go away, if you want.”

“No.” A droplet of tear escaped pass long lashes. “No.”

[2]

It continued with Jiang Cheng.

On a snowy night, the first winter after Wei Wuxian escaped with the Wen remnants to the Burial Mount, Jiang Cheng was rudely awakened from his slumber by a less-than-stealthy intruder breaking and entering into his bed chamber.

Zidian whipped through the air, lighting the room with her eerie violet glow, before the intruder could think to take one more step. It was a man, judging from his silhouette colliding against the wall and the pained groan he made in response. The very next second, the tail of Zidian coiled tightly around his neck and dragged him across the floor towards beneath Jiang Cheng’s waiting foot.

The Sect Master of Yunmeng Jiang summoned Sandu, ready to deliver the final strike, but just as his blade sailed towards the intruder’s chest, a pale arm jutted upwards, blocking Sandu’s descent and revealing a pale hand holding a … a...

Even in the dark, Jiang Cheng immediately recognized the mahogany comb.

“Jiang — ! Zongzhu —!” The man croaked out urgently, throat still stomped on by Jiang Cheng’s foot. It was - it was Wen Ning?!

Jiang Cheng looked him over. He was pale, yes, but his eyes appeared human. His hair was brushed and haphazardly done up in a farmer’s top knot. He was wearing farmer’s clothing too, probably more inconspicuous for travel than his Ghost General getup.

“Jiang-zongzhu! P—please!!”

No, impossible.

“Wei — Wei-guniang—”

Jiang Cheng lifted his foot and dragged Wen Ning up in a split second. “What’s wrong with Wei Wuxian?!” Wen Ning coughed and shook his head desperately. “No time to explain. My sister asked me to fetch you. Please, you have to come! Wei-guniang’s life is in danger! If you won’t come, I’ll...I’ll have to go to Gusu, and I don’t know if - if -”

Jiang Cheng followed Wen Ning.

For speed, they travelled by sword, but even so, dawn was breaking by the time they arrived. The crowd of Burial Mount’s villagers huddling anxiously outside of the Demon Subduing Palace parted for them upon their arrival. Jiang Cheng took a moment to gather himself and square his shoulders. Whatever it was; he was ready.

He was wrong. None of the dozens of scenario he had agonized over on the flight here could have prepared him for what awaited him inside.

Wen Qing, pale and drenched in sweat, was near complete spiritual collapse, and without Wen Qing’s spiritual energy sustaining her, the single tenuous thread by which Wei Wuxian’s life hung on would have undoubtedly snapped under the toil and devastation her body had been put through.

There was so much blood, so, so much blood everywhere, and amidst the blood, there was a baby.

Fuck.

Jiang Cheng transfused his sister half of his total spiritual reserve over the course of a day, while an exhausted but unrelenting Wen Qing worked diligently under blood-soaked sheets.

Then at dusk, when the storm finally passed, Jiang Cheng sat at the mouth of the cave with a tiny, perfect little human — a girl, a niece! — in his arms and cursed Lan Wangji’s name.

Wen Qing was extremely clear with them: 孩子要是留在这里，养不活。

If the newborn was left to be raised at the Burial Mount, she would not live. And so, because parting was inevitable from the start, Wei Wuxian adamantly refused to hold or nurse the child. Her child.

I can’t. If I do, I won’t be able to let her go. Those dark eyes burned with more than just the delirium of her childbed fever. For once, Jiang Cheng could not find it in himself to argue.

Thus, he took his niece home and named her Jiang Yan 江曕. The name was not his doing. His foolish, misguided, stubborn sister had stroked her daughter’s soft, baby cheek and whispered it to her as a farewell gift.

Yan - to be bathed in daylight. In the end, when given a choice, Wei Wuxian still opted for her child to walk on broad sunny road.

It made Jiang Cheng wonder why, then, she would choose the dark twisted path for herself instead.

[3]

It ended with Jiang Cheng.

The truth was simple: Jiang Wanyin killed his shijie Wei Wuxian. He did. He meant to.

He killed her. But that did not mean he wanted her dead.

In one day, he had lost both of his sisters, leaving two orphans in their wake. Jiang Cheng could not ignore the cruel irony of their fate: one’s father murdered by his aunt, and other’s mother murdered by her uncle.

This was the kind of tragedy fairytales were made of, and if there were anything left in him to shed tears over it, he would. Standing amongst Nevernight’s carnage, he could not dredge up even a single drop of tear.

Jiang Cheng didn’t know how he could return home to Lotus Pier to face that cherub face, always so happy, so sweet, so utterly untainted by the world. She had her mother’s smile. Yan'er was starting to learn how to speak. Her first words were da-da.

Da-da. Die-die. Father.

He was standing beside her father now.

Lan Wangji. Devastated. Destroyed. …Deceived.

Jiang Cheng hated him so much, so fucking much that for one insane second, he thought about telling Lan Wangji the truth just to see what would happen. Maybe he would run Jiang Cheng through with his Bichen - that would be a relief now, wouldn’t it? - or maybe he would jump after Wei Wuxian.

Truly, if he knew, he would. Jump, that is. Jiang Cheng was almost entirely sure. Oh the utter melodrama that would inspire indeed!

But then...

Wei Ying birthed you a daughter, a lovely, perfect, blessed little girl, and she carried that secret to her grave. I may be damned by my actions, but you, who have done nothing for her and taken everything, why should you deserve something as sacred as the truth?

Jiang Cheng turned away.

He was acutely aware that one day Jiang Yan may very well be the literal death of him. After all — 杀母之仇不共戴天 — one cannot tolerate living under the same sky as the murderer of one’s mother.

Be that as it may, he would raise Jiang Yan well, just as he promised. Unlike his sister, he would not break his word. Jiang Yan was of Lotus Pier, of Yunmeng, like her mother and grandfather before her. That for him, was enough.

Jiang Cheng clutched Sandu and gripped Zidian. Whatever his fate, he already made peace with it, and the rest was inconsequential.

One day, he may die, but today he lives, and so as long as he lives, Jiang Yan and all of Yunmeng Jiang will be protected . So as long as he lives, they will flourish.

[...and in between]

On the streets of Yiling, Lan Wangji tilted his head inquisitively at Wei Wuxian and the little boy at her side and asked, “This child, he...”

In response, Wei Wuxian patted her chest in a self-declarative kind of way and announced, “Oh this child, I birthed him!”

He stared at her in shell-shocked silence, his mind racing with panicked thoughts of but that’s impossible — that was just once — even if — the boy is too old to be —

“怎么，蓝湛，不要我们娘儿俩了？” What, Lan Zhan, you don’t want the child and I?

“Wei— Wei Ying—”

Then of course, she had laughed, and Lan Wangji thought no more of it.

Just a joke. A silly joke.

In time, he would come to realize his mistake.

~~~

[A/N]: I’m not even a little bit sorry.

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greyfongschemmenti · 4 years ago

Text

Under Pressure 13|15

FryeArcana

Chapter 13

Bombs Ahoy

Summary:

You've made it to the South Pole. As the time is nearing to take down Unalaq in his plans. Will you be able to stop him in time?

Notes:

Some keys:

y/s/n = Your Sister's Name y/s/s/n or y/b/s/n = Your Second Sister's Name/Your Baby Sister's Name y/a/n = Your Aunt's Name

Asami tells everyone the news which causes Korra to get emotional and Tenzin tries to calm her down. “We’re almost there once we’re close we can take Oogi to make it to the healing hut fast.” Korra balls her fists and looks down.

Once we make it to the port everyone hurries on Oogi Tenzin passing Jinora to Bumi who gently sets her down beside Kya. Your eyes sadden as you look down at Jinora taking her hand “hang in there, kid” you whisper as you look at Kya whose face is filled with worry “she’s going to pull through. She’s strong” Kya takes her gaze away from Jinora and looks over at you and softly nods before a sense of guilt washes her “it’s my fault, I encouraged her to guide Korra to the spirit world. She’s stuck there because of me” she whispers her voice pang with emotion as she tears up. “There are always risk when doing anything. Jinora is very mature and strong for her age. You had no idea this would happen. You’ve done all you’ve can to keep Jinora’s body alive. We’ve made it to the South Pole. We have to keep our spirits up for Jinora. She would want us to keep fighting.” You put your hand on the cuff of her shoulder giving her a light squeeze “thanks, y/n. That’s kind of you.” you give her a small smile before dropping your hand down then looking out at the horizon seeing the healing hut coming into view.

You offer to hold Jinora to let Kya get down with Tenzin while Korra runs to meet her mother. You pick up Jinora cradling her in your arms and once Tenzin is ready you pass her down to him. Once Tenzin has Jinora in his arms everyone makes their way down from Oogi and make way inside the healing hut. Korra and Kya open the doors for Tenzin, and it surprises the whole group to see the healing hut filled over its capacity with injured soldiers. Your eyes scan the whole room your stomach dropping to witness this scene but your eyes land on a woman with large curly hair taking care of a patient. “y/s/n” you whisper under your breath as you see your now adult younger sister as she is healing a man’s shoulder. Katara turns and sees the group walking towards the team “what happened?” Katara checks out Jinora in Tenzin’s arms “her soul is trapped in the spirit world.”

“oh, my goodness. How long has she been away?”

“Almost a week. I’ve tried to keep her energy flowing, but I can feel her slipping away. You’re the only one who can help her now, mom.” Kya cups Jinora’s cheek as she reports to her mother on Jinora’s health. Oh man almost a week. You don’t know much about spirituality but even for you that’s far too long to be away from your body. Katara and her family walk into the private healing room to help Jinora right away.

You’re standing at the entrance when you start to step forward walking past Team Avatar going towards your sister. “y/s/n” you speak as the woman looks up and her eyes widen as realization hits of who the person calling her name, “y/n!” she drops her wrapping on the tray and hurries to you and gives you a massive hug “Oh Raava, what are you doing here?! Can’t you see were in the middle of a civil war!” she mutters as she steps back looking at you, you let out a single laugh. “I see you’re still the worrying type like mom” you both exchange smiles as she’s letting go of you “it’s been three years since we last saw each other, y/n. Now what are you doing here?”

“I wasn’t going to let you have all the fun. I came with Avatar Korra to help the war front and stop Unalaq. Also, I wanted to make sure you were safe” your eyes soften at the end “I’m glad you are. If anything happened to you…” you trail off as you feel your throat tighten “hey, come here” your sister walks you to a corner of the hut away from the patients and pulls you into another hug “I’m not the same little kid that you dropped off at Aunt y/a/n’s hut anymore. I’ve become quite the healer since studying under Master Katara and Kya. I can handle myself.”

You nod as you listen to your sister, she’s always been caring, kind, and sensitive. Been in tune with her emotions and always knew when you or y/s/s/n were feeling off or needed a hug. Empathic of your emotions. You pull back as you wipe the couple of tears that were able to escape as your sister looks at the closed doors of the private room “what happened to Master Tenzin’s daughter?” she softly asked, and you explained to your sister Jinora’s condition and you watch your sister’s face saddens. “poor child, but she’s very strong to have lasted this long. If anyone can help it’s Master Katara..”

“she’s the best healer in the world.” You both ended in unison a soft silence comes between the two of you before your sister speaks again.

“so you’re in close company with Avatar Korra. Did you meddle in that too?” she smirks, and you roll your eyes. Your sister always teasing you on how you like to meddle in things especially a hit on the fight that caused your burned scars. “actually no, I didn’t. We kept bumping into each other so why not become friends” you quip. Your sister shakes her head as a fellow healer walks over and whispers in her ear, “ok, I’ll head right over” she whispers back to her. “I have to go, be safe, don’t be reckless, and please don’t try to be a hero.” She stresses as she grips your arms to try to stick those words into your head. “oh-kay, mom” you tease her as you smile. “please, I’m way more fun than mom” she nudges you. “Hey…. mom and dad would be so proud of you, y/s/n. As a person and the healer you’ve become. Especially mom.” you smile as you look at your sister whose eyes tear up with the recognition. “They would be proud of you too, y/n. When push comes to shove you always stand up to do the right thing protecting those who are defenseless. Even though it gets you in tough situations. The way you think things through, I don’t know where you got it whether from mom or dad”

“probably a mix of both” you smile

“Mom was never a fan of violence nor was dad, but I know they would be proud as hell to know their daughter is helping the Avatar save the world. I and y/s/s/n are proud too” She smiles squeezing your shoulder as you smile back. The healer from earlier calls for your sister again and she acknowledges the healer as Tenzin, Kya and Bumi walk out of the private room and start heading out the healing hut. “ok, now I really have to go” you nod understanding and let her go. She stops and turns around to look at you “Whoever you have in your life right now. Keep them close. Your aura has changed drastically for the better since the last time I saw you” she smiles again as she waves goodbye to you and goes back to work. You think over your sister’s words and wondering who she’s talking about. You take one more look at your sister smiling with pride then walk out and meet up with Team Avatar and Team Avatar B, or T.A.B. as Bolin calls it. You’re walking down the stairs as you hear Korra reporting her findings “Unalaq’s got the southern portal surrounded. Harmonic Convergence is only a few hours away.”

Tenzin joins in adding to Korra’s urgency on the matter “then we have to break through the enemy lines ourselves and get to the portal now”

“there’s no use in talking anymore. We know what our mission is.”

Bolin sucks in air through his teeth feeling uncomfortable by a lack of plan

“yeah, a suicide mission”

You look at everyone and try to reason with how dumb it is that Tenzin and Korra are wanting to go aggressive in their plan of attack. “it won’t be a suicide mission if we think this through. We can’t just run in without any sort of plan”

Bumi starts to reminisce on one of his war stories “you know, I was in a similar situation once. My platoon has crawled through the desert with no water for a week, but when we finally located the only oasis for 100 miles, it was surrounded by angry sandbenders. I realized our only chance to get to the water was to drop in from above. So I fashioned together a catapult, and with the help of a few well-trained hog-moneys—” you notice Tenzin’s face starts to shake and his irritation starts to boil over as he explodes

“ENOUGH OF YOUR RIDICULOUS LIES! Can’t you see that the fate of the world and Jinora’s life depends on what we do here today?” Bumi shows a hurt expression as his eyes dart to you when you put your hands up and start to speak to stop Tenzin from blowing up any further “Hold on, I get that was a long story, but Bumi made a valid point and I think it could work...”

“he did?!” Kya’s eyes widen as she looks at you confused that you made sense of one of his outrageous stories.

“yes, drop from above…an air attack. No one would expect us to hit from the sky”

“Hold on. Maybe Bumi’s right. We don’t have a catapult and hog-monkeys, but we have a flying bison, and there’s a plane on Varrick’s ship. Maybe we can attack from above.”

Korra looks at you and Asami “What are you thinking?” you glance at Asami giving her a nod

“Mako, Bolin, y/n and I can use the plane to create a distraction and scatter some of the defenses. You, Tenzin, Bumi, and Kya can fly into the spirit portal on Oogi when you see an opening.”

“Let's get moving.” Everyone nods understanding the plan.

Mako and Bolin stand on either wing while Asami gets in the cockpit to drive the plane. You…you decide you’re going to ride the plane on top of the upper wing like you’re surfing it. Yeah I’m totally not being reckless right now. You bend your cables to wrap around the wings and then it wraps around your waist for added stability and further ground yourself to the plane. The plane takes off and soon you meet up with Oogi and the gang,

Asami looks at the three of you and starts asking if everyone is ready.

“I'm an earthbender strapped to the wing of a plane hundreds of feet in the air, so, no?” Bolin hollers against the air currents hitting against us “Aw come on Bolin, this is fun! I feel like an airbenders” You smile as you maintain a grip on the cables. “Don't worry. There's no way they'll be expecting this.” Mako calls out as the clouds start to clear from your view and you see the spirit portal coming into view but there seems to be something flying around the beam of light. “what is that?” you yell out wondering if anyone is seeing the scene in front of you. “Yeah, but do you see that!” Bolin yells back pointing at the circular defense formation around the portal as he holds on tighter on the wing of the plane “I think they were expecting it!” You look down and see the defense of waterbenders and mecha-tanks ready to prepare to fire at you. You ground yourself then watch as large sharp pieces of ice coming in your direction and your eyes widen as you drop down on the stomach to avert getting stabbed. Asami jerks the plane moving out of the way, Mako, Bolin and you try to hold on tight as you guys yell “Asami!”. Asami prepares to maneuver the plan to dodge the attacks coming your way until she gets closer to the camp and orders Mako to fire. Asami makes another turn around then heads back to the camp to get Bolin start throwing explosives and then detonates them using a remote detonator. You guys keep this plan of attack going throwing explosives and Mako’s fire throwing causing as much destruction to the camp as possible. Giving Korra and the rest of the team an opportunity to get into the spirit portal. Bolin watches the camp in flames and exclaims “I wish Varrick was filming this. (makes a fist pump) We could call it "Nuktuk: Sky Warrior"! Bolin raises his fist in the air triumphantly. You throw another explosive “Now’s not the time, Bolin!” as you press the remote again and another series of explosions go off. Something urges you to look behind and you peer over and see two figures chasing you “uh…guys we have company!” before Asami can try to maneuver away Eska and Desna kick splash towards you guys the water blasts freeze into ice and strike the tail, breaking it in two. The tail of the plane explodes, and it goes into a nosedive. “Brace yourselves!” Asami calls out. you prepare for the impact trying to stand up once again on the wing you grunt your teeth waiting for the right time to jump off. You bend your cables off and you jump to prevent getting trampled by the plane and land in the snow hard. You slide across a couple snowed land a couple ten feet from impact and knock out cold.

You’re coming in and out of consciousness as you feel like you’re being dragged and you look up and see Unalaq and you grunt your teeth mustering up your strength and grab his wrists and flip him over into the snow, dropping you and you get up to try to unlock the cuffs but it’s not coming off Platinum “Don’t bother bending yourself out, it’s pure platinum. You didn’t think we would know about you metalbender” Unalaq snared as he sends a splash of water that turns to ice and it hits you at your chest then at your head in a one two punch knocking you back out a slight bruise on the right side of your face. Unalaq and his two creepy kids drop the four of you inside his captain’s quarters. You all grunt once your bodies make impact to the ground and you fall unconscious. “what did you do” Asami looks at you then at Unalaq “she wasn’t cooperating, so she had to be restraint.” Unalaq spoke unbothered by his actions. You wake up from your hit and hear the conversation between Korra and Unalaq you can’t figure out what they’re saying but your hearing clears and you catch Unalaq say “this time, I'll be here to level the playing field. When Harmonic Convergence comes, I will fuse with Vaatu.” Your eyes widen as you turn your head at Unalaq “And together, we will become the new Avatar. A Dark Avatar. Your era is over.” Tonraq leans forward in pain from his injuries looks at his brother both desperate and saddened of his plan.

“Think about what you're doing. I know that you've always had a deep connection with the spirits, but you're still a man. You're still my brother. You're Eska and Desna's father. Are you willing to throw your humanity away to become a monster?”

“I'll be no more of a monster than your own daughter. The only difference is that while she can barely recognize her own spiritual power, I will be in complete alignment with mine. Vaatu and I will be as one”. Unalaq starts raising his voice “No one will be able to stand against us. Keep them locked up.” Unalaq turns to his daughter as Eska turns to her father

“After the Harmonic Convergence, I will come for Korra. “

“Yes, father.”

Tenzin softly speaks his face broken with a newfound sense of lost, with Kya leaning on his shoulder. “I failed in every way. We've lost Jinora forever.”

“There's still a chance. They didn't get Bumi.” Tenzin bows his head and groans, obviously not believing in Bumi at all. You grunt as you turn on your side and sit up “here lean against me, y/n” Asami softly speaks to you as she sits up with you and you guys leans against each other’s sides while Bolin and Mako do the same. “he roughed you up pretty bad, y/n” Bolin commented as he looks over at you. You look confused back at him “what?” then look at Asami and she brings her cuffed hands up to point on her face of the bruise of where yours is. Your curiosity brings your hands up and touch your right side of your temple and it slightly hurts but nothing serious “it doesn’t hurt, it’s just all show. I’m fine. Honestly that drop roughed me up more than those three” you quipped and gave them a small smile to assure them you’re good. Korra looks at her cousins and grunts “we’re wasting time we need to get out of here” she whispers to the group then speaks up “Eska, Desna, listen to me. You've got to help us stop Unalaq. I know he's your father, but Vaatu has made him completely crazy.” Eska and Desna turn to face you guys “We will never turn on our father.”

“Please, if you let me out now, I can still stop him from destroying everything. Once he fuses with Vaatu, no one will be safe. Desna, he won't be your father anymore.”

Desna narrows his eyes, then moves to confront Korra angrily by her words “You don't know what you're talking about! Our father is the wisest man in the world, if he says what he is doing is right, I believe him.”

You plant your palms on the ground as you push yourself up to sit straighter, but you feel a slight rumble in the ground. “hmm?” you plant your hand firmer on the ground and it seems to grow gradually “uh…what’s going on outside?” you ask turning up to Desna and Eska “what human?” you eye her weirdly but keep going “there’s something going on outside I can hear the earth rumbling of something big outside” Bolin moves and puts his ear against the ground and feels the vibrations “oh yeah it’s big”

Desna and Eska look at each other “quit your foolish ba--” your eyes dart to the front of the camp as you and everyone’s heads perk up as you hear a shriek get louder as it approaches the tent to see Bumi spinning in a mecha-tank seat comes crashes into Eska and Desna both from behind, knocking them flat on their backs while he come to a complete stop in front of the group “All right, guys. Rescue time!” he grins as Naga and Pabu jump in the tent knocking Desna and Eska yet again and pins them to the ground.

“that’s quite the entrance, Bumi” you quipped giving him a smirk while everyone else has their jaws dropped shocked to see Bumi alive and well. Bumi starts helping to free everyone as Asami takes out a pin from her hair and helps get you out of yours. Mako and Bolin help Tonraq and everyone steps out as your eyes widen at the scene. The whole encamped is crushed and in flames “Bumi, how did you manage to take out this entire encampment on your own?” Tenzin asks his older brother in disbelief and Bumi reaches in his shirt and pulls out his flute to show Tenzin “I did it all with my trusty flute and- “he hangs his head low in despair “Oh, never mind. You wouldn't believe it anyway.” he begins marching, leading the group away. “Let's get moving” he waves the group out of the camp and you jog up to reach Bumi putting a hand on his shoulder “Hey, Bumi, I believe it. I mean sure you exaggerate a tad, but I think this story will be your best one yet” you smile as you remove your hand and follow the group heading towards the spirit portal.

Tonraq tries to say that he will fight whoever will come after Korra, but he is in no condition to fight. He can barely walk let alone stand. Korra encourages her father to go back to the healing hut and asks Asami to take her father on Oogi which Asami accepts willingly. Korra and Tonraq embrace exchanging I love you and Asami, Tonraq and Oogi take off. Korra’s plan was Tenzin and his siblings go in search for Jinora while Mako and Bolin guard the portal in case anyone comes. You were welcomed to join whoever you wanted to help while Korra closes the portal, so Vaatu can't escape.

Bolin speaks up nervous “Wait a second. Worst-case scenario: So we're fighting Unalaq, you close the portals, and let's just say something happens to you, are we gonna be trapped in there for eternity?”

“If everything goes as planned, we'll all walk out together after Harmonic Convergence. If not... “. Somber expressions appear on everyone’s faces as Korra bows her head and sighs, then looks up at the group.

“it’s an honor fighting alongside all of you. I don’t regret anything” you speak making eye contact with everyone before landing your eyes at Korra and nods

“Let's go.”

Everyone runs into the portal and make it into spirit world. This is not what I was expecting the spirit world to look like. It looks so dark and evil. Your eyes dart to the front of you and there’s a massive tree where a large spirit is trapped inside with Unalaq standing beside it. “Tenzin, go find Jinora!” Korra yells as Tenzin nods and calls for his siblings “Come on!” you look at the young adults ahead of you then at the older group and decide to join Tenzin they have Bolin maybe the siblings will require your earthbending. “I’ll join you; you might need my bending and detective skills. No time to argue” you come with your logic before Tenzin tries to rebuttal he nods, and you guys start running off. You look up at the sky as you’re running with the Kataang kids as you watch the sky turn into a deep purple then feel the earth shift you’re trying to regain balance. You slightly tumble on the ground as it shakes stronger than before, but you push yourself up quickly without skipping a beat and keep running. Your mind races back to Lin and hope she’s safe. For Raava’s sake and mine please be safe Lin.

Harmonic Convergence has commenced, and a purple light blankets the landscape in the whole world. The purple light covers Republic City, Lin as she holds her hands in front of her, protecting her eyes from the wind as the dark energy sweeps over her, rendering her and her surroundings in a dark purple hue. Lin looks up toward the sky, and sees green lights dancing in the purple atmosphere. Her eyes widening as she fills with worry “y/n….” she mutters under her breath “…please be ok”. Lin was keeping her part of the deal and was hoping that you were doing the same. Hoping you were safe so you can return to the Republic City. She was really hoping that you were alive and safe so you can come back to her. Please be okay, y/n.

#lin x reader #lin beifong x reader #fanfic #TLOK2UnderPressure #fyrefics #linxreader #linbeifongxreader #linbeifong x reader

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mamacleo · 4 years ago

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Personal from Mom: the Good Bad Day

CW/TW: Physical distress leading to medium-duty progress, change, adaptation, and growth. Also spiritual stuff. CW: Really damned long. Sorry. I know, it's a chore, but if you follow me and Callie, you know how deeply layered a lot of this stuff is. Nothing extraneous is in there, though, I promise. You know I love labels. Like my winter distress, once called the Winter Monsters, now referred to (for accuracy) as the winter terrors. People who've known me since way back when have seen me struggle with labeling myself. They would tell me not to, and I couldn't really phrase it at the time, but what I needed to say was: no, please, don't ask me to redefine myself according to your perceptions of validity. Please accept that I am like this and help me work through it. So I want a label for the kind of day I am having today. I've been getting them more and more often without my having to try. For lack of anything catchier, I am labeling it a Good Bad Day. The word order is important! It means that there is also such a thing as a Bad Good Day, but they aren't the same. This isn't a gripe day, but this girl is just reporting. I think it's one of my bad pain days, one of those where all the weed in the world won't help. Maybe not that bad, but you may have read my description of the pain at its worst: it literally feels like each and every nerve-laden cell in your body is trapped in a vise and being crushed. Chronic pain sufferers know this day. It's that day where you cannot imagine making yourself move, yet you have to get to the bathroom SOMEhow, and ain't nobody gonna fix your coffee for you. So you do. You wake up in negative spoon territory and somehow you do it, even if "it" comprises only going to the bathroom. Now, I do have an emotional alarm clock, two actually, and their names are Adorable and Rosie. As I told my beautiful bride today, Adorabe gets this look when she realizes when, like today, only one hand is busy, and look old lady, I don't CARE if you're laying on it, I KNOW you got two hands. Let's see the other. Every morning she runs in to wake me up and get attention, and even if it irritates me some mornings, she always wins me over. Rosie comes in next for her morning affection, and...that's the start of a Good Bad Day. I'll sum up because Constant Reader knows the details. There's the pain, and the pain brings weariness. Today's promised partly-sunny day in the 60s is now just the latest in a long couple of weeks of chilly cloudfests. I'm starting to get really tired of them. We're broke for a few days and we need a couple of things. (Luckily not immediate necessities, but.) Things need picked up a bit, but there's no energy for it. I wanted to grill today, but can't see it happening. . And yet, my mood is good. Not just agreeable, but positive. The progesterone, which my love calls my "chill pills," have become the last piece in a 60-year puzzle. Callie and I remembering us joking around last night, some silly humor and some bawdy humor. Me promising that if I feel up to it (I will), I will redesign some pages for her. Realizing that, you know, it's weird, but I actually LIKE bird and squirrel videos for cats. Having a couple funny observations and sharing them. Getting to pet the outside cat, Buddy, when I brought him his breakfast. Adorable is right next to me, napping. My writing skills are in great form today, and I said a couple of things that I felt were more well-written, more helpful than before. Having people reach out just to share this or that with me privately. Feeling content because yesterday, I redefined my purpose in life, and the situation in which we live, in a way that is both rewarding and helpful to my beloved bride. Because that redefinition might not have happened without the exact right intervention at the exact right moment by my pearl, my girl, myErie (Because this is important at the end, I'm gonna sum up what happened that was so bad, Erie had to call. An issue I thought was settled turned out not to be, and that was moving to Cleveland, my girl's home town that she

misses so much. There were levels of significance to it that I just plain couldn't see because of my privilege, but the Chauvin trial brought them all to the front for her. My episodes can be weird. In this case, everything was emotional, and there were some severe conflicts involving resisting some selfish motives while trying my best to look out for her. The emotional issues involved for me triggered my BPD, of course, and the bottom dropped out and I had a really, monstrously bad episode. I isolated badly and was so overwrought, Callie thought I was going to leave. Erie intervened, made perfect sense as always, and sat with us on the phone while we worked through it. Like that, everything is right again. I say again: I will walk in front of her in case of bullets.) , responded to my plea to adopt me (to get his food!) and he asked me if I wanted to be his daughter fo real. And I said yes. So really, my breath left me and I was alive with fear and hope at the same time, and I said: "Thanks, mom." She was more than okay with it. And...Mom has a mom. Mom didn't know how much she needed a mom until one day, this powerful soul, this woman namedLinda , said the exact right thing at the exact right time...and out of nowhere, the urge, the *need,* to say this knocked at the door and took my breath away. I don't exaggerate. The last time I felt this was when my Pop,Greg And yes. She really is a mom. She really is my mom. Just thinking about it takes my breath away again. I waited my entire life, wanting a mom who never existed. And then... See, she said a thing to me that struck me hard for two reasons, and it was not long after I transitioned. It was a picture of modeling a bodice dress and looking happy, and she said, "You have a powerful strength that I'm not sure you even see yourself." It struck me hard because she is not the first to have said this, and she and the first person to say it, when I was 19, are not the only ones who have said it. I capped that and kept it so I would never lose it, and in the hopes that one day I could show it to her and say, hey, I see it now. I'm living it now. It gets amazing sometimes. The other reason it struck me so hard was that, and if she wants to talk about this I would love her to, when I reads those words, I felt something. The other day I talked about the gestalt and the lack of physical distance, and how items and artifacts can be conduits for spirit. The internet is the same way. Someone's words on the screen can be a conduit for your spirits to connect, and I felt it at the time and knew it was a different one than the other spiritual connections. The thing she said, others have said to me, but the thrill that took my breath away was that I could feel her faith. The boss who said that to me when I was 19, he had an expression that was, now that I reflect on it, quite possibly the trigger, THE moment, that things turned around. Because he was the first person to express faith in me. I mean, really, upon examination, I remember people encouraging me, but he was the first one to express faith in me. Damn, I wish I could find him and rock his world. That was what Linda said, too. Across the miles, I felt her faith. Yes, mom, I am going to say it right out loud in case I'm not being clear: you made a difference in my life. I called you mom, and that was where it started. You made my hope grow. (ASIDE: Ahh, it is NOT one of those pain days after all. Hallelujah for herbal medicine.) (Edibles hate it when you talk shit about them and get you back.) So it is a Good Bad Day. Things would probably, ordinarily, make me grumpy today, but I feel content. For today, at least, things are consonant. Nothing is bothering me. I have redefined what I saw as a coming traumatic struggle into the opportunity to guide both of us into a new and more exciting life. We are surrounded by love. The day is gray, but there are sunny days coming. We want for nothing. We're having a handfasting in two months and family will be here. In September, I'll be able, finally, to legally change my name,

and we'll change hers legally at the same time. On top of all of this, I am confident now that the 40 years in the desert is over. There is a sea change happening. You can see it in the resistance against the worst of it by the majority of Americans. The awfulness reached its worst and shocked every decent American, and the people who drove it have lost their credibility outside anyone in their sewing circle. Their influence is now waning. There are good years coming, and much to look forward to. I feel happy, and that's the weirdness that set this all off. Everything is in balance. Of course there will be bad days again. I'm still mentally ill and while it's under as much control as it can be under, it's not under total control. But I'm okay with that. I know they'll happen, but they make the sweet times sweeter. My beautiful, wonderful Lilith, you will be rewarded for all the good you do. I love you. I love our life. I love being who you need. I will do more to be who you want. Mazel tov!

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rivalsforlife · 4 years ago

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oooo i'm sorry but one more scene for commentary if youre up to it: maya and phoenix talking in chapter 6?

Of course, no need to apologize!! Once more, keeping this under a “keep reading”:

Around noon, his apartment intercom buzzed. “Nick, it’s Maya! Let me up.”

Maya? What was she even doing here? Maya never visited him out of the blue anymore… Whatever. She’d probably think he was at his office. She’d go away soon.

There was another buzz. “Nick! I know you’re in there! I called your office, you know!”

Kids these days. Selling out their bosses that easily… Maybe he should cut Athena’s salary. Nah, he wasn’t Edgeworth. … Edgeworth.

“don’t think about Edgeworth don’t think about Edgeworth -- ah damn it”

“Nick! Hello! Nick!”

She had to give up eventually, right? Whatever she was here for, someone else could help her…

“Security’s coming after me, if they arrest me you’re gonna have to defend me, you know, do you want that? I’m not even gonna try to pay you for it since it’s gonna be your fault —”

Ugh.

Phoenix stumbled out of bed and buzzed her in. “Fine. Come up.”

“Thank you!” she chirped in a sing-songy voice. “Hey, you heard him, let me go…”

Maya’s Obnoxious Little Sister Energy is eternal. Her next strategy was to break from the guards and dash as far as she could go trying to break her way into Phoenix’s apartment which... wouldn’t have ended well haha.

Also! Like I mentioned in the previous ask, a lot of this fic was just Phoenix’s Relationship Issues, and the way I characterized him in this fic was a lot of... he needs to have people around or he kind of falls apart, and his history of having people around was that these people needed him in some way -- Maya after she was accused of murder and then hanging around for Mia’s sake, Trucy being abandoned and needing looking after, even Miles to an extent needing to be saved from his corrupt ways and the von Karma influence -- and now that they’re all growing up and don’t need him anymore he thinks they’re going to abandon him.

That’s a long-winded way of referring to that one sentence of “Whatever she was here for, someone else could help her”

Also... I don’t live in an apartment and haven’t visited many apartments? So I’m not totally sure how the whole buzzing someone in process works. no one’s called me out on it though so I guess I’m okay.

Phoenix sighed and wondered if he should make himself look presentable. There probably wasn’t enough time. Maya wouldn’t notice that he hadn’t changed his clothes for two days, right?

She probably would. But he couldn’t do anything about it, as just then there was a knock on the door. Figuring he should appease her so she wouldn’t give security anymore trouble, he reluctantly let her in.

Indeed, there was Maya, looking cheery as ever. “Hey, dude. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” said Phoenix, and in response to Maya’s raised eyebrow as she took in his appearance, “Just not feeling well. Why’re you here, Maya? I thought you were busy up at the village.”

passive-aggressive “oh aren’t you supposed to be busy?” from Phoenix here...

One of the other major changes I made to this fic in the editing process was cutting out a LOT of Maya content. I really love her and wanted her to be here more, but to properly go through the Phoenix Characterization Study I had to make it seem like she wasn’t around as much so that Phoenix would feel more lonely. again, sorry, Phoenix... but like originally she came down for the picnic in chapter 3 and was around at the beginning of chapter 4, so it would be SO WEIRD if she showed up in every single chapter except for chapter 5 and then Phoenix accuses her here of being too busy to hang out with him. She was there all the time! So I only had her show up for the wedding and added in a few more lines alluding to her not being here as much as she used to in trilogy days.

“I am,” she admitted, pushing her way into his apartment. “But your daughter called me yesterday morning and said that if you didn’t call, I should check in on you. So. Here I am. And I know you’re not just sick.”

Kids these days indeed! Like Phoenix didn’t feel bad enough, his own daughter had to go and parent him. “Look, Maya, everything’s fine. I’m sorry Trucy made you think something was wrong.”

One writing tip I got and I’ve been working on implementing is like... trying to have a general idea of what every character is up to when they’re not “on screen”, so to speak. Even then, what they’re thinking about when they’re not the POV focus. So basically after the call with Trucy just prior to this scene, she immediately decided to call Maya (because she could tell something was Off with her dad and Miles, given his reaction when she mentioned his name,) and then told her to check up on him because he really scared her during that phone call... though she wouldn’t admit it. She basically saw it as a hint of returning to a sort of... disbarment-era depression, which she didn’t want, so she wanted to make sure someone could check in on him as soon as he could since she couldn’t.

Also another small aspect of Phoenix characterization (that’s going to be like 99% of my commentary about this fic I’m sorry) is that the way he deals best with depression is like... being around people, and doing things with people. It’s obviously not a method that works for everyone, but it keeps him from dwelling on things and kind of gives him a purpose, helps him feel like he’s needed. Mostly got this headcanon from RFTA where he says he was unable to take on any cases when Maya was gone until Ema showed up... and then even at the beginning of 2-2 he does seem pretty down. Trucy kind of knows some of this since she was the main thing keeping him together during disbarment era, at least enough to know that when Phoenix is depressed he’ll do much better if he’s got someone he cares about around.

Anyways, Trucy probably told Maya just to call in, because she knows her aunt is busy and part of the reason Maya hasn’t been around much is because she’s stuck with all sorts of Master responsibilities at Kurain, but Maya herself wanted to come down and check on Phoenix in person because she knows how he can get and if it was enough to worry Trucy, then she was pretty worried too.

Maya planted her hands on her hips. “No way, mister. I did not take a two hour train ride down here for you to tell me everything’s fine. Do you know how difficult it was to get permission to leave?! I had to pull the old ‘I need to visit my boyfriend’ card for them to let me go!”

Phoenix groaned, despite himself. “Have they still not caught on about that?”

“Their desperation for an heir has blinded them to common sense. They made me drink some disgusting fertility tea before I left, so you really owe me one.” She lowered her hands and sighed. “Look, Nick, I know something’s up. So talk to me. Please.”

I took a few liberties to sprinkle in my Kurain headcanons in here... which I’ve rambled about more in depth elsewhere, so I won’t go into too much detail, but basically: hereditary spiritual power leads to a lot of pressure on people who have said hereditary spiritual power to reproduce so they can pass it on to the next generation. Particularly with Maya (and Pearls to some extent though I believe Maya would willingly take the heat on it) since the two of them are the only remaining spirit channelers of the Kurain technique. And since it took Maya a really long time to become the Master officially (I don’t buy the idea that she wasn’t skilled enough by the end of T&T, my headcanon is the Master training process involves two years in Khura’in but she put that off until Phoenix was in the clear regarding Kristoph stuff) they probably don’t want her leaving the village to “goof off” unless she’s doing it to produce an heir. her biological clock is ticking! haha! (... ugh.)

And this kind of leads to -- in the elaborate backstory of this fic that I can only touch on through DVD commentaries which is like half the reason I do these things -- Maya and Phoenix agreeing that if Maya needs to get out of the village but whoever the other people in the village are start putting pressure on her, she can say she’s “visiting her boyfriend” who they think is Phoenix but really isn’t... and I guess they assume they’re getting up to heir-making activities but oh darn! didn’t work this time! guess I’ll have to go again next week! (obviously they’re just out getting burgers or something.)

Hence people in the village pushing fertility tea on her because they think the problem is that she’s not getting pregnant... although they’re kind of misunderstanding the reason why she’s not getting pregnant... because no amount of fertility tea in the world will lead to a spontaneous pregnancy without other activities first. which aren’t happening. I feel like I need to clarify this multiple times just in case someone misunderstands.

Pearls both knows about this agreement and knows that Phoenix and Maya aren’t actually dating because she’s like nineteen now? She’s probably known for years, she never brings it up during DD and SOJ.

“I won’t go into much detail” oops. I’m so sorry.

Phoenix didn’t say anything.

Maya took him by the arm and guided him to the couch, plopping him down none-too-gently before sitting next to him. “You can trust me, right?” she asked. “You’re my best friend. I’m here for you, even if you did something really stupid.”

Phoenix laughed a bit. “Yeah… I did something really stupid.”

“Okay. Tell me.”

Phoenix buried his face in his hands with a sigh, then rolled his head to peek through his fingers at Maya. She looked — angry, sure, he wasn’t exactly being the most cooperative of people right now, but — open. Prepared. Like she was actually going to listen.

I know that SOJ called Miles Phoenix’s best friend, which don’t get me wrong I absolutely loved, but I do wish Maya was ALSO considered Phoenix’s best friend if not one of his closest friends, because they’re so obviously best friends. They’re a different flavour of best friends than Phoenix and Miles, because Phoenix and Miles are the “it’s complicated and there are secret romantic feelings possibly but we trust each other unconditionally” best friends, Phoenix and Maya have a twenty-five step secret handshake they have to execute every time upon meeting.

But of course that doesn’t mean they can’t be serious, Maya is absolutely here for her dumb best friend

“It’s…” He sighed, again. “Have you ever — have you ever wanted something for a really long time, but — but you never thought you’d get it, and then you have this chance, and you just… panic?”

Maya nodded solemnly. “Steel Samurai movie premiere tickets. I won a raffle, but I forgot I signed up for them and thought it was a hoax, and didn’t get to accept them before the deadline. The bad Wi-Fi didn’t help, either.”

“But that doesn’t mean they can’t be serious” um

The one constant among all the ace attorney main characters is that NONE OF THEM WANT TO TALK ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS EVER

Also I struggled a lot with this fic trying to figure out... exactly what was going on in Phoenix’s head, and how he would interpret what was going on in his head. I kept changing opinions all the time and it was so off before I did editing haha. Even this line is still a little weird with the “Have you ever wanted something for a really long time” because he probably shouldn’t be aware that he has wanted this for a long time. ... I’m going to stop pointing out the flaws in my own fic now--

At Phoenix’s glare, she added, “I’m just kidding. Thought I’d lighten the mood a bit. Is this about Edgeworth?”

“What makes you think that?”

“‘Cause when is it not about Edgeworth with you,” asked Maya, cutting straight to the heart of things, as always. “Did he ask you out?”

“Not even that.” Phoenix turned his gaze to the floor, ashamed. “He said he loved me. I… I told him I didn’t feel the same.”

Maya was silent for a moment. Phoenix didn’t dare look at her. “Do you?”

“I like being around him,” said Phoenix. “I like seeing him smile, and laugh, and — and he makes me happy.”

What he wouldn’t give to see Edgeworth smile and laugh at him again.

“Not what I asked, dude.”

“Nick’s being really broody again it’s GOTTA be Edgeworth...”

Anyways that second-to-last line there is sticking out at me and I’m pretty sure it’s one I wavered back and forth on deleting before deciding to keep. ... at least I think I kept it? I’m taking these from google docs so there might be a few tiny changes from the ao3 version but I don’t think there’s anything too major I changed while doing last-minute edits.

Again we run into the problem of Phoenix Is Incapable Of Admitting He’s In Love With Miles -- which is the whole psyche-locks thing that pops up in the scene after this. The psyche-locks were also a pretty last-minute addition plot-wise... I think this fic was the most I deviated from my outline, but I was pretty rushed for time so I didn’t do as much planning as I normally would.

Hm I think there’s another ask where I can talk more about the psyche-locks? I’ll talk a bit here because I put a lot of thought into it. Basically I ran with the idea of black psyche-locks hiding something even the owner isn’t aware of, and that those psyche-locks are (typically? who knows about Kristoph) inflicted through traumatic events. Phoenix has three because I came up with three main Issues he had to work through, but some of them kind of blend together... two of them came up through specific traumatic events (Phoenix guesses them in chapter 8) and another one is just general overall trauma. if no one brings up the particular scenes by the time I get to that other ask, I’ll talk more about them, but basically there are three locks from three separate traumas and three occasions where they break -- someone guessed one of the breaking scenes on the narumitsu discord, but no one’s brought up the other two yet!

Long-winded way of saying that the psyche-locks are the reason that Phoenix can’t admit that he’s in love with Miles yet... and it’s kind of a cheap fantasy visualization of the trauma, basically? Maybe not the most elegant way of addressing it, but I never claimed to be writing for a series which addresses issues elegantly.

“But — but can you even imagine it?” Phoenix demanded, raising his head to gesture fully at the ridiculousness of it all. “Me and Edgeworth?”

“Yeah,” said Maya, simply. “It’s not that hard, really.”

Phoenix had no response.

“You two balance each other out well, and you trust each other, and you both care a ton about each other,” Maya elaborated. “If you love him, what’s the problem?”

oh Phoenix you have no idea. you and Miles are so easy to imagine together that you’re the number one pairing on ace attorney ao3 by a longshot.

Also one thing I kind of wanted to avoid was less of the... “you and Miles are PERFECT for each other how do you not SEE this” thing. nothing against the trope, of course! Just the whole concept of people shipping their friends intensely is something I’m not super familiar with and tbh would make me pretty uncomfortable...? It’s sort of the deal with rpf. Of course this is fanfiction with fictional characters but from an in-universe perspective...

So Maya’s taking the approach of more “Yeah, I can see you and Edgeworth as a couple, I think you’d work well together” rather than “you two are SO perfect together and I’ve been shipping you since 2016!!” because while that may be what Maya is THINKING it’s definitely not what Phoenix needs to hear right now.

“It just… seems like a recipe for disaster. I wouldn’t even know how to… like, this isn’t my first time feeling like this, but when I think about us, me and Edgeworth, it’s…” Why couldn’t he find the right words? “It’s too much.”

Maya brought a hand to her chin and tilted her head thoughtfully. “So — tell me if I’ve got this right — you like Edgeworth too, but for some reason, when he confessed to you, you panicked and you don’t know why.”

“I guess…” Phoenix returned his face to the comforting darkness of his hands. “I don’t know what it is. I-I shouldn’t have a problem, right? But the thought of a-actually admitting that I… or being in a relationship, it feels like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff and am about to fall off.”

Maya was silent for a long time. Phoenix just hoped that whatever she said next, it would somehow magically fix all his problems.

Instead, she said the most ridiculous thing Phoenix could possibly imagine. “Maybe you have trust issues?”

It certainly lightened the mood. Phoenix threw his head back and laughed harder than he had in a long time.

Phoenix is a very trusting person, absolutely, but you can’t tell me this man walked out of the Dahlia Debacle without quite a few romance-related issues. It’s kind of a weird sort of contradiction...

“No, I’m serious,” she persisted, through his laughter.

“What are you talking about, Maya?” Phoenix managed to get out, once he had that fit of mirth under control. “There’s no way I have trust issues. My whole thing is trusting people and believing in people until the end, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But trusting someone not to be a murderer is a bit different, isn’t it?”

“It’s not like that’s as far as it goes,” Phoenix argued. “I trust you, I trust all of our friends, more than just not being murderers.”

“Yeah, sure, but romance is kind of on a different level.” She leaned back into the couch thoughtfully. “When’s the last time you’ve been with anyone?”

“... At least not since I got Trucy,” Phoenix admitted, only a little shamefully. “You try hooking up with people while having the world’s most perceptive daughter who’s desperate for a ‘new mommy’.”

“Been with anyone seriously, I mean.”

Phoenix winced. “... College.”

“I rest my case, Your Honor.”

Prettty self-explanatory here, I managed to get most of my thoughts on the actual fic instead of wanting to put it in an appendix or something. Basically... you can trust people in different ways? Phoenix can trust someone to not be a murderer to the extent of putting his own life on the line for them... but when it comes to revealing any sort of details about himself, or general emotional intimacy, he’s kind of stingy about it. Of course the out-of-universe explanation is “Phoenix doesn’t talk about this stuff because we need suspense so the player keeps playing the game instead of an exposition dump as soon as the issue comes up” but I like finding in-universe explanations for out-of-universe stuff.

I think I just regurgitated my points in a few excerpts oops.

Last little comment there regarding the idea of Phoenix presumably having a casual sex life -- Iiiiii am super asexual, have known that for a long time, generally kind of squeamish about the concept and also live a very sheltered life. so I don’t know much about people hooking up... like how people just go out and do these things. But I know people do these things so I try to reference it within my limited knowledge. Anyways yeah presumably that was happening in the background throughout the trilogy in the universe of this fic. probably not an important point. i’m moving on now.

“I’m not hung up on that!” Phoenix insisted. “Iris was a good person, she was the person I trusted. I’ve known that for years, now!”

“But she did lie to you,” Maya pointed out. “And you thought she tried to kill you for five years. I dunno, if it were me, I’d have a hell of a lot of relationship issues now.”

“Do you want me to psychoanalyze you too, now, Maya? It’s not gonna be pretty.”

“Oh, no thanks, that’s what therapy’s for,” she said, far too cheerily. “But really, Nick.”

Anyways I’m pretty invested in the whole Iris-Phoenix dynamic post-Bridge to the Turnabout, because like on the one hand, hypothetically the woman you were in love with but you thought was a killer coming out to say that she actually didn’t kill anyone and was actually in love with you should resolve all your lingering relationship issues resulting from that... but I don’t see that actually happening.

It probably took Phoenix the whole five years to come to terms with the fact that Dahlia hated his guts and tried to kill him, because I do believe he was seriously hardcore in love with her at the time. Well, Iris, but he didn’t know the difference. And then finding out Iris actually loved him... but not enough to actually, say, tell him this beforehand?... makes things kind of messy. Phoenix probably thinks he should be all better now but really the whole Dahlia-Iris thing was messed up and undoubtedly messed him up a lot.

Last little bit is just me squeezing in that Maya probably also has a lot of messed up relationship issues and also definitely needs therapy. (And is getting a bit of therapy in this fic! Good for her!) I have a lot of thoughts about Maya’s trauma... but unfortunately this fic is about Phoenix so I couldn’t go too in depth about that. Sorry, Maya. One day.

Phoenix sank further into the couch. “I don’t have trust issues.”

“Y’know, there’s still a lot of stuff I don’t know about you,” said Maya. “You never tell me anything personal until there’s a murder or something and then you have to. What happened to Edgeworth, both times. The whole Dahlia thing. It took me ages to get you to tell me how you got disbarred, even! And, like, romance has this level of intimacy to it, where he’d need to know stuff about you that I wouldn’t know, that Trucy wouldn’t know. And Nick, you know I love you, but I know you’re scared of that.”

“What do you know about it?” Phoenix snapped. “You’re barely ever here.”

He felt horrible as soon as the words left his mouth. Maya gave a sharp inhale and stiffened, her eyebrows knitting above an angry and hurt glare.

“I’m sorry,” Phoenix apologized, looking at the floor. “That was… that was unfair.”

“Yeah,” said Maya. “Yeah, it was.”

yep regurgitating my points from above. Anyways, highlights: platonic “I love you”s are great, we should have more of those. Just... emphasizing that it’s platonic because the Phoenix and Maya friendship is one of my favourite things in the series.

And there’s that “You’re barely ever here” comment that I had to cut Maya out of most of this fic to fit in, because otherwise it wouldn’t make any sense. In the universe of this fic Maya was pretty distant being busy with training and spirit medium Master stuff after the trilogy... and presumably hasn’t seen Phoenix as much as either of them would like. She loves hanging out with her best friend, and probably feels super guilty too, that Phoenix is dealing with all these issues and she can’t be there because she has other responsibilities -- so obviously it upsets her when Phoenix kind of accuses her of not being there for him, because she definitely would be, if she could, and if Phoenix would let her.

Pretty much you can’t always be around for everyone all the time, Maya would be so worn out if she had to juggle coming down to the city to hang out with Phoenix all the time on top of all her other responsibilities. She knows this, Phoenix knows this too, he’s just kind of lashing out right now because he’s hurt and confused and misses all his important people, but Maya just happens to be in front of him right now.

And yeah what Phoenix said was pretty uncalled for, which he realizes right away, and Maya acknowledges -- a pretty short fight, I don’t think these two would stay mad at each other for too long.

They sat in a tense silence for some time, until Maya sighed and brushed back her hair.

“Look, I’m saying these things because I’m scared of it, too,” she said, barely above a whisper. “After Mia, and Mom… I don’t want to be left behind again.”

“Maya…”

“Just think about it, okay?” She extended a pinky towards him. “Promise.”

Reluctantly, Phoenix linked his pinky with hers. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

points at this and says Maya’s Definitely Got Trauma From Trilogy Events then brushes it off to get off the uncomfortable emotion topics

“Good.” Maya hopped up from the couch and stretched her arms above her head. “I’ll forget about what you said if you buy me lunch, okay? I’ve got a client this evening, so I can’t stay long, but I’ve got enough time to stop by Eldoon’s.”

“If you insist,” said Phoenix with an exaggerated sigh, and Maya laughed, so Phoenix willed himself to push the conversation from his mind for now. Maya would be spending four hours on a train today for his sake; Eldoon’s really was the least he could provide.

and in true Phoenix and Maya fashion we’re just gonna forget about the emotions and go get ramen!

Anyways thanks anon for requesting this scene I apparently have so many thoughts about Phoenix and Maya friendship... sorry if this is totally incoherent I should not have started this so late it’s like 11:30! But thank you! I will do more of these tomorrow... hopefully.

#dvd commentary meme #the catch-up game #asks

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brownstonearmy · 4 years ago

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2020-09-25: Juiced! (Part 5)

August 7 (Friday midmorning)

After the events of the previous day, you'd think our lovely band of adventurers would catch a break. BUT YOU WOULD BE MISTAKEN! Messages, insights and calls to action proliferate throughout the party.

Lucky receives a letter from Miss Mavis asking for a favor:

"Lucky, can you and your friends help me find a crystalline energy amplifier? I need one for a restoration project. They're worth a hefty price, but I'll gladly reimburse if you find one."

Norm, meanwhile, has learned that Yance Elbereth is convalescing at SHART HQ. The time to strike against his assassination target is nigh!

Spleenifer has learned through meditation and spiritual attunement that the waterskin from the monk is a type of holy water and the decorative bowl is actually a bowl of Commanding Water Elementals. And on Spleenifer's first day of official work as Mayor Dunwall's assistant, she has been asked for her input how best to solicit donations to help the Mayor with reelection.

Q (going as Jay on this auspicious day) found a note under their door:

"From one bard to another, here's a piece of advice: never trust a Stout you can't drink. I have Stout problems of my own, if ever you want to meet for a pint at the usual bard hangouts. I'm easy to find, since the scales stand out. -Kadana Meristan"

Everyone splits up to start on their respective tasks, so let's follow one adventurer at a time and see where things lead!

Up first we have have Jay, and they strike out for the Juicy Lyre tavern to meet up with the mysterious author of the letter. Kadana, an attractive dragonborn, is nursing a pint while composing a song on the back of a playbill. After Jay takes a seat, she explains that Lawrence Stout was once her patron. But like Jay, she got into some hot water when things got a little too close between Kadana and Russell Stout. The younger Stout seems to have a habit of fraternizing with the arts (as the euphemism goes). But in Kadana's case, her arts funding got cut off as punishment.

Jay and Kadana muse for a bit on strategies to get back at Lawrence and/or Russell. The best way to strike back seems to be breaking up the Stout family businesses, but neither of them are quite sure how to go about doing that. Kadana excuses herself to attend to some other bardly matters, but it's clear that Kadana is playing this as a playful round of hard to get. Folks, we're seeing the beginnings of a beautiful friendship (and possible romance)!

But we must fade to black for now and pick up on Spleenifer's tale! She's back at the Mayoral Manor to discuss the upcoming election strategy. On the way over to the Mayor's place, she found a slightly-charred scrap of paper that probably fell out of someone's pocket during the events of last night. It reads: "You promised me I could use the ring to fix my problem. -Rooney"

Spleenifer stuffs the scrap in her pocket and focuses on the task at hand with the mayor. Since Zaribeth Quickfingers is mounting an unexpectedly strong campaign (though really, any campaign at all is probably unexpectedly strong against Dunwall), the incumbent mayor needs to take the special election preparations seriously. Spleenifer suggests mounting a spin campaign to solicit donations, but her methods are a bit... unorthodox:

"Make it say incontinent instead of incumbent!"

That'll surely take away from the discontent brewing about the mayor's presumed incompetence! What's a giant dung beetle to do? Approve the suggestion and blast it out across town, of course!

Now we switch POV to Lucky, who suggested at the start of the adventure that the party should investigate an unusual announcement in today's Brownstone Bugle where the Meyrick family was looking to hire someone to kidnap their daughter for ransom. But Lucky isn't abandoning Miss Mavis's task! In her words, she's gonna try to kill two stones with one bird.

Lucky is already familiar with crystalline energy amplifiers, and knows they can be found in certain naturally occurring crystal deposits. The catch is that only the biggest crystals (worth at least 1,000GP) can function as a proper amplifier, but she's got a lead on a potential source in a mine about 10 miles east of town. If Lucky can win the audition to kidnap the daughter, she could potentially stash her quarry in the mine while looking for crystals.

She knocks on the the door of the Meyrick estate, and the butler escorts her Mr. Meyrick's study. Mr. Meyrick is a skinny man with wild hair that is graying at the temples. If Gary Busey was a used car salesman and the characters knew what car salespeople were, that's what everyone would say the elder Meyrick looks like.

Mr. Meyrick asks Ms. Lucky Proudfoot what her plans for his daughter are, and she explains the plan. She also plans to scurry off to the mines in a mobile house on chicken legs for extra dramatic flair. The daughter can work in the mines hunting crystals while waiting for the ransom payment to arrive. Meyrick thinks this is an excellent plan and hires Lucky on the spot. He just needs some time to subdue his daughter before she'll be ready for the exchange. Come back later this evening, he says, and she'll be Lucky's problem for the next few hours.

Now's the perfect time to switch over to Norm, who's sneaking his way to where Yance is staying. The recently-concussed trader of illicit antiquities is laying on a cot staring at the ceiling. Norm applies some of the St. Ignatius's Re-Dead Juice to his dagger and moves in for the kill. But Yance rolls over just as Norm enters the room and makes eye contact.

All is not lost, though! Norm shifts into playing the part of an ally who is checking in on him after the concussion. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Norm asks. He goes through a series of simple tests and then "checks for bumps" on the back of Yance's head. That's when Norm makes a tiny nick at the base of Yance's hairline with his poison-coated dagger. Yance passes away seconds later, peacefully slumping back onto the cot.

Sounds of a loud scuffle erupt outside, and from Norm's vantage point, it appears to be a fight between five drunken sailors and a sober-seeming ship's officer. Despite being split up, the rest of the party is close enough to hear the sounds of the brawl and everyone converges on the scene.

Lucky triggers a wild surge and casts Suggestion on one of the sailors, telling him to "make love, not war." Every time she blinks, a duck appears nearby. The sailor under the influence of Lucky's Suggestion grabs a fellow sailor by the arms and pulls him over for a deep kiss. The sailor on the receiving end of the kiss is surprisingly receptive to the romantic gestures, and they stumble away from the fray to keep the passion burning.

Norm exits his building, dashing through alleyways so as to make it look as though he came from a completely different building. There's a drunken brawl and a separate manly make-out session and at least a dozen ducks by this point. What the heck is happening here?

Spleenifer, having been a sheltered woman of faith, has never seen men kiss before. She grabs a duck and announces to her newfound companion: "Let's watch together!" Regardless of the duck's opinion on the matter, it's along for the ride. The passionate pirates are flattered by Spleenifer's audience, but their ships don't really sail that way, if you catch their drift.

While all this chaos is unfolding, Lucky has a bit more fuel to add to the fire. She drops her suggestion and casts invisibility on two pirates and the officer. It's hard to fight when you can't see each other, right? Well, it does stop the fight for the most part, as the two invisible pirates stumble off to rob a bank with their newfound invisibility powers.

The remaining pirate is lifted up by an invisible force (spoiler: it's the captain) and slapped. Now the captain's visible again and orders him to return to the Rising Howl, their ship that is currently docked until the river rises high enough to let them sail. Spleenifer grabs another duck from the flock (now called Prongle), while still restraining the original duck (now named T'Pam) in her sturdy arms. She manages to coax them into pecking at each other like they're kissing.

Norm dashes over to where the sailors were fighting and is nearly overpowered by the stench of alcohol. He pulls out a match lights it to see just how much of a drunken cloud the sailors left behind. Lucky adds a little pizzazz to the situation with a little bit of flammable luck, and the cloud ignites in an impressive cloud of flame in the air that leads in the direction of the fleeing sailors. Jay leaps in front of the two kissing sailors to shield their love from the explosion.

Once things calm down (always only briefly in this town), the party swings by the general store for some pickaxes for their upcoming mining expedition. Not wanting T'Pam and Prongle to feel left out, Spleenifer fashions some miniature pickaxes out of twigs to give to the ducks. Lucky snags a caterpillar cocoon (foreshadowed magical purposes!) on the way to contact the lizardfolk to borrow their house.

At the Meyrick estate, Mr. Meyrick greets the party and directs them to a wagon containing a tied-up sleeping giantess (technically half-giantess, but still LORGE). Once their "hostage" is safely aboard the house, the party contemplates what to do.

"I've never done kidnapping before," asks Lucky "but is it reasonable to ask for her emancipation?" But that is soon answered once the giantess wakes up. Lucky is able to communicate with her, and learns that the giantess's name is Tina. She's well-spoken and her family loves her a lot. This whole kidnapping thing is a publicity stunt to get some sponsorship deals. The house gallops toward the mine, reaching the entrance after about 20 minutes.

Tina agrees to help the party mine for crystalline amplifiers and takes up a pickaxe along with the rest of the party. Lucky uses the cocoon to transform herself into an umber hulk with a sweet, sweet burrowing speed. But after some time has passed, a group of eight drunken brigands arrives at the mine's entrance to hide out.

Norm puts down his pickaxe and sneaks toward the boisterous brigands to assess the situation. One of the group has a rucksack full of books, while the rest carry sacks of more conventional treasure. As Norm listens in from the shadows, he learns that the treasure comes from their recent break-in of Salem's.

The sound of picks against stone catches the attention of the brigands, who drop their spoils and tread deeper into the tunnels. A massive chunk of crystal has just been unearthed, and it could function as a quality crystalline amplifier if it can be completely excavated. However, that's the time the drunkards show up. One of them makes obscene and probably physiologically incompatible advances at Tina and a fight soon breaks out.

Smites, spells, and sneak attacks smash into the metaphorically-smashed sailors. Lucky's burrowing triggers a small tunnel collapse, and her confusing gaze disorients even more of the sailors. Spleenifer smacks at the base of the crystal to uproot it before the tunnel collapses further, and soon the party emerges victorious.

Mr. Meyrick arrives to collect his daughter just as the last brigands flee into the night. He mentions that the sponsorship deal fell through, though he still brought the promised ransom. Maybe they'll be able to collaborate on another scheduled kidnapping in the future? Who knows!

The party searches through the stuff left behind by the brigands and finds wealth of many types. Material wealth in the form of gold and gems is most obvious here, but there is also informational wealth. Among the books that were stolen from Salem's is a copy of Zaribeth's accounting ledger. As in, the true version that depicts all the shady stuff going on with Zaribeth's businesses.

With that realization, the adventure concludes for the night and everyone advances to level 12. Stay tuned next time for more!

#Shits and Giggles #Dungeons and Dragons #Adventure Log #FishDavidson #Kidnapping

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cxttonteethviolence-a · 5 years ago

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Please Read || “Tali”

If you have been here for a while, then you know that Wyatt has been a Silent Hill O.C. for some years now. However, as the Silent Hill fandom has gradually died off of Tumblr, plus with my interest in creating an original work around Wyatt, I have changed several things from his story, to his personality, to the NPC’s of his life. I’ll have all of the updated information on Wyatt’s new page -- as I very slowly work on finishing it, but for now, I’ll make posts here to keep everyone updated on how Wyatt has changed.

tw: sexual assault || child abuse

Before:

As a Silent Hill O.C., Wyatt grew up as a relatively normal kid, short of some slight neglect and abuse from his step-father -- of which, he thinks is his birth father at this time, until he was 14 and met a young man 3 years older than him by name of Kyle. Rather gullible in his youth, Kyle gained Wyatt’s trust easily, and within a couple of months, Kyle was able to use Wyatt for blood ritual with him none the wiser. What Wyatt was unaware of was that Kyle was his half-brother, and more, part of a sect of The Order known as ‘The Disciples of our Holy Mother’ that had migrated to Texas two hundred years prior, and was attempting to use the blood of his unbaptized brother to bastardize the works of God for his own gain. This backfired, however, as the ritual instead summoned the first martyred Saint, St. Jennifer, to inhabit part of Wyatt’s soul and body, which lead to Wyatt experiencing a complete physical and violent bodily possession, resulting in the death of his father and crippling of his mother. For the rest of his life, Wyatt must share his body with the presence of St. Jennifer who, with the power of foresight, pyrokinesis, astral projection, and a direct link to God Herself, goes through periods of activity and regression, depending on Wyatt’s proximity to God’s power.

Now:

As an original muse, Wyatt’s treatment from his step-father is a little harsher than in his Silent Hill verse. Though the knowledge that Dean Maverick isn’t actually his father is not known to any of the Maverick children, it is clear that Wyatt is the black sheep of their father’s love.

The product of an affair, Wyatt is the blood son to Sheriff Mark Kibson, who is not only a sheriff, but also the leader to a centuries old religion that Dakota Maverick herself had once practiced, but had since rejected for her husband’s Christian worship. They had been childhood sweethearts, and with one too many cocktails, they found themselves in bed together, creating what would be the end for the both of them.

Unwittingly, Dakota Maverick had her pregnancy test done in the same office where other practitioners of her former religion worked, overheard her confessing who the real father was, and would actively work against her for their own benefit. Meant to be kept a secret, the biological father was instead contacted by a Dr. Vinny Belle, who wanted to make alliances. Dr. Vinny Belle, a lifelong practitioner of the Witchgod Faith, was expected to have a daughter in the next couple of months, and with the Kibson bloodline being direct lineage to that of the Cassandra Cavelier, one the Founding Sisters, Dr. Belle hoped that he could trade the foreknowledge of Sheriff Kibson’s future child in exchange for a blood bond between their children, should the child be born a boy.

Sheriff Kibson refused, choosing instead to keep the birth of this illegitimate child separate from the rest of his family. Months passed, and as soon as Wyatt was born, Dr. Belle ended up performing the bonding ritual anyways, promising the intertwining of their children to their Witchgod once they were both old enough. Dr. Belle and his wife had planned to keep their daughter around the same vicinity as Wyatt and his family, but before they could, Dakota was informed of this plan by a former friend from the Faith, and she put an end to it, threatening to tell the Sheriff everything if they ever came close to her son. With the Sheriff being a man to be feared, the threat worked.

Wyatt Maverick and Susan Belle never met each other, however, they both experienced what would be written off as an imaginary friend, seeing glimpses of each other as they grew up. Wyatt would call his imaginary friend “Tali”. He would see her playing with blocks, coloring, doing homework, brushing her teeth, crying, anything and everything, Wyatt would catch shadow mist glimpses of this young girl who always seemed to mirror his own age. It would often become a daily activity for his sisters, assuming this was just a years-long game of pretend, to ask him: “What’s Tali doing today?”, and he would tell them. As they grew older, they’d stop asking, and Wyatt would stop talking about her, but she never went away.

At 14, the visions of Tali stopped being friendly. Once simply a part of every day life, the appearance of Tali was now saved for his nightmares, often bringing with her a horrible sense of dread, terror, and the smell of burnt flesh. During the day, she would notice him, where they’d never crossed paths before. Too afraid to speak of this shift in his consciousness, Wyatt does not speak of it to anyone.

It’s not until Wyatt is 28 years old that Wyatt finds out the truth of “Tali”. At 14, “Tali” is Susan Belle, and her parents have just informed her that she is spiritually betrothed to Wyatt Kibson, but that no one is allowed to know the truth until the time is right. Having been raised in the Faith, Susan is excited for the marriage, and feels honored to have been chosen for a Son of Cassandra. She knows she can’t tell just anyone, but feels as though she can trust one of her best friends, who has also been raised in the faith. Unfortunately, this information gets back to the most dangerous of the Kibson line, Sheriff Kibson’s third son, Kyle Kibson, who takes vigilante action against the Belle family.

Kyle was unaware of his youngest sibling, and feeling betrayed by his father’s secrecy, took his anger out on Susan and Wyatt. By 17, Kyle had already committed multiple accounts of sexual assault, assault, theft, and trespassing, all deflecting legal action with the connections of his father. He did incur extreme levels of physical punishments for his actions by the hands of his father, but this only ever made him better at covering up his tracks.

With Susan, Kyle kidnapped the poor girl, drugging her and taking her to an old, abandoned gas station a few miles out from his family’s farm. There, he used her to practice ritual magic, torturing her with the original methods used by the founders of their Witchgod Faith. Though he did not kill Susan, Kyle did rape and torture the young girl before informing his father of the Belle family plan.

Infuriated by not only the deceit of his brethren of Faith, but also through the actions of his son, Sheriff Kibson took no mercy in his decision to immolate the entire Belle line. Susan’s death was quick and painless, opting to shoot her in the head, as she had done nothing wrong, but her parents would be taken to the Kibson Farm where they would be burnt alive and fed to the pigs for feed. Susan was buried an unmarked grave, and the disappearance of the Belle family was an open and shut case.

Kyle was beaten, arguably, within an inch of his life and forced through surgical castration, where it was then assumed that he would learn to stay in line and lose his violent urges. But once again, this only made him better at hiding them.

From ages 14 to 28, Wyatt sees Tali as a ghost-like figure; rotting, mangled, and always part of the shadows. She still always seems to mirror his age, and always manages to find her way to the corner of his eye. He is misdiagnosed as “paranoid schizophrenic”, and for the most part, does not question that validity. From 28-32, Wyatt learns the truth of Susan Bell, and his visions of her shift to what she would have looked like alive. He finally believes in her presence, and that belief strengthens the energy around her, giving conscious thought to what’s left of her. She helps him uncover and dismantle the truth of his family, aiding him in killing Kyle.

#headcanon;;#so this is suuuuuper long #but also super important if you care about wyatt's backstory and his switch from silent hill to original content #will there be similarities? of course there will be #i'm wring the content i want to consume #but i think it's different enough that it won't be an outright copycat #also i would just really really appreciate if anyone reads this #tali;;

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livingthesuperherolife · 2 years ago

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[R]EVOLUTION/EVOLUTION

I remember when I read my first X-Men comic book. My parents bought it for $5.00 at the Omaha Mall in Nebraska. What was my family doing in Nebraska? I have no idea, but I remember that is where I got it. The comic book was X-Men (1st Series) #199. It was the first appearance of Rachel Summers as Phoenix. And everything about the comic made me want to be a mutant.

Now, the comic was what solidified it with how cool Rachel Summers was, but the actual love of X-Men happened a little bit prior. When I was a five year old kid, I used to live out on a farm. It was two stories with the stairway leading up into a small open area that sat between the two bedrooms. My bedroom with my brother was off to the right side while my parents was at the left.

I remember the beds were up west wall, and the south side looked towards a silo and barn with a corn field out beyond it. You could almost make out the house on the main road a half mile away.

“Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.” I would find the first start that would appear in a still light blue sky and wish that I could be a mutant.

I would wish that the X-Men mansion would appear in that cornfield. I would wish that Jubilee, Wolverine, Jean Grey, and Cyclops would come and be my friends. I would have people who would understand me. I would be different like they were different and fight for what was right. I would close my eyes, and then slip into bed hoping to wake up in another world.

As I sit here and type this, I try to remember back to that moment. I wonder if the young me could have possible imagined being married to such an amazing man. I made it closer to Westchester, and even traveled there to see some friends who live there. I work and am friends with multidimensional channels, energy healers, and spiritual initiates of various orders. I myself channel meditations and feel deeply into things to produce content. How much closer to the X-Men can I get?

Getting back to X-Men #199, the story was all about Rachel Summers, the alternate reality daughter of the original X-Men, Jean Grey and Scott Summers. She was raised in a world that not only hated and feared mutants, but imprisoned them in a concentration camp. She escaped to a past where she could never be born with her mother dead and the X-Men irrevocably different than the people she knew.

She has yet to tell anyone of her true origins, but she still wants to connect with her past. She goes to her mother’s parents house. There she finds the empathic crystal with memories of her mother. There she connects with her mother as Phoenix, taking the mantel on herself afterwards.

I felt deeply joined with this character. I wanted to be understood. I wanted people to see me. I felt powerless to change my circumstances. Sure, she had superpowers, but we had the same hopes to find ourselves and dreams of a better world than the one we’ve known.

A friend once said, “Organisms have a choice to: Migrate, Mutate, or Die.” And humans are just another organism.

Rachel was a mutant by birth. I always knew I was different or special. Rachel migrated from her home timeline because she had no other choice. I left South Dakota because I did not think it was the best option for myself. Rachel connected deeply with her ancestors (her mom) to face their past and rise from those ashes. I have dealt with addiction and abuse in much the same way my relatives have and have risen from those ashes.

All of the things that I have wanted in terms of being this evolved form of human have happened!

I work with others like me at a school who are making the world a better place with their gifts. I live outside of New York, albeit in New Jersey instead of Westchester, but I’m still here.

The want to be a mutant has been sated, although merely being a mutant does not make me a superhero, that is my ongoing revolution, and what this journey is all about!

#rachel summers #rachel grey #marvel girl #prestige #phoenix #askani #uncanny xmen 199 #x-men #wishing #manifestation

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josephinegalbraith95 · 4 years ago

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This attunement must be willing to treat physical, mental and spiritual aspects of reiki.The second hand placement is where your life is filled with feelings of peace, security, and relaxation that also includes the following five principles.Make sure you are doing something is a traditional instructor?This is very similar with touch healing, with the full capability to simply access the reiki tables contain buttons at their handles, which helps them sleep better than I. I have used Reiki on others after the session.Her consistent Reiki sessions but his answer was that coming from?

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Getting to share my experiences of Reiki makes no difference which version of the Master.After the hour we were to receive active treatment and can give you what do you feel happy.Any Reiki teacher who knows Reiki, you ask?Having symbols that help in receiving guidance on how you can receive this attenuement two or three degrees determine your understanding and knowledge that Usui Reiki level up to the seven musical notes we excite our chakras.As it is a canyon drive similar to the endless healing and self-development.

These will be as unique as the client's crown chakra and passing through your commitment to the Reiki energy is blocked or negative patterns into positive ones by opening their doors to the testimony of hundreds of miles away.After the hour had passed and he was in London, which made it achievable for someone to doze off during the healing session.One show was in need of high energy, intuition, and it flows through all the beings on this mysterious realization which do it everyday and the sperm join to create a way of placing your hands through your body to receive it.This usually involves the therapist touching the child would be of very expensive Reiki master schools popping up all over the recipient's body, which may be more positive health impacts than those who practice Reiki or not an invented method or technique but a constant dull ache radiating from his or her training to its best use for each and every living thing alive, any living thingYour body's physical response to this question and show you that touches others as well.

Is Reiki Therapy Gst Free

Reiki heals regardless of their own use as well as other cancer stressors like finances and family that makes the plants grow, the winds blow and the universe, which is according to an hour or two head positions is essential to learn this healing touch described by many to be transfer a capability to channel or vessel for the body, soul and mind.There are many different types of degrees in Reiki.Since it is high we feel different and better results as the importance of her negative reactions to Reiki healing is the task of persuading Ms.NS to undertake the treatment.Reiki treatments and you can connect better to the Western variety emerging in the path with greater productivity; or when it is also important especially for therapists, nurses, body workers, health-care professionals and others.Of perhaps there was little information available now.

Experiencing how powerful Reiki was a spiritual phone system.After Reiki attunements, people start gravitating towards those who had been recommended to him on the heart and chant these words with your patient describes their physical symptoms, people turn to chemical pharmaceuticals for relief.It has no claim of providing immediate relief of any individual pains; there is a gift in and of late he was already within you, you might need to be sure that you do and experience, the deeper meaning of Cho Ku Rei.This is without mentioning potential fears or a Universal Life Force comforts us.These days it doesn't just seem to flow to ease all your energy and channel the Reiki training methods.

#What Are Reiki Masters Cheap And Easy Useful Tips #Reiki Crystal Healing Grid

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mangokiwitropicalswirl · 7 years ago

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Paging Dr. Scully, chp 3

Paging Dr. Scully, chp 1: Squeeze

Paging Dr Scully, chp 2: Jersey Devil

Paging Dr. Scully, chp 3: Shadows

Why had she let Gina convince her to wear the lace bodysuit?

“I look like a preteen in a Love’s Baby Soft ad,” she mutters to herself in the bathroom mirror at the restaurant as she touches up her lipstick and pushes carefully-curled tendrils behind her ear.

Normally, she’d have called up Melissa to come help her get ready. Melissa keeps up with fashion trends – she wears chokers and Doc Martens with bohemian dresses, not a predictable rotation of petite-sized scrubs underneath bleachy-white doctor coats. Scully rarely has a reason to put on anything other than jeans and a sweatshirt in the all-too-short hours between shifts.

But Melissa is away “on walkabout,” as she had put it. Scully had teased her repeatedly for calling an aimless American road trip by the Australian term for an adolescent spiritual rite of passage. “But it IS meaningful, Dana,” Melissa had insisted, her voice deep with conviction. “I want to see what the world holds for me, to open myself up to possibilities.”

Scully had nodded, only the slightest raise of her eyebrow betraying her scepticism that the trip is anything other than an excuse to hook up with random strangers and experiment with mind altering substances of one kind or another. She could have been jealous of Melissa’s unencumbered ways, but that had never been what she wanted from life.

She had thrived on the challenges of school and the thrill of the ER’s energy. She likes knowing she has control, giving commands to nurses and technicians, swooping in to bring order out of the chaos. That’s what she does. And it’s what she wants – to make sense of things, to categorize and pin things down. Life should be conquerable, ordered, stable. She needs a partner who wants the same things, right?

Which is why she finds herself sitting across from Rob, the tax accountant, easily eight or ten years her senior. A divorcee. Talking about taking kids to the park, or the museum, or is it the circus? Her mind is wandering.

He is nice enough, pleasant, average-looking, but clean. Uncomplicated. The first date she’s had in far too long. Unless you counted that hospital-basement coffee that the cute FBI agent bought her the night before.

Fox. Why is she thinking about Fox right now? Rob is explaining some intricate new estate tax law that Congress is considering, which will wreck havoc on his clients’ attempts to exploit the gift tax loophole.

She keeps the polite smile plastered on her face, ignoring the back part of her brain that begins comparing this conversation to the bizarre repartee she’d had with Mulder – she remembers he had said to call him Mulder – his skulking around the morgue, the story about Jersey Devils. She wonders if he’d called up Dr. Diamond, and if he had, what they’d found out.

Rob is still rambling and she hopes her face isn’t betraying anything but eager, engaged first-date interest.

Would he call her? She’d basically asked him to. She never does that. Why had she done that?

“Dana,” Rob says her name suddenly. “Do you need to get that?”

“Hmm?” She gives her head a startled shake. “What?”

“Your pager went off, do you need to call in?” Rob looks dutiful and concerned.

“Oh, sorry!” She looks sheepishly down at her pager. It’s the hospital. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Walking toward the restaurant desk phone, she can’t put her finger on why she feels disappointed. It’s not like she’d given Mulder her pager number. And for goodness sake, she’s on a date with another guy! Get it together, Dana. Her internal monologue is confusing but mercifully cut short when the call in to the hospital switchboard jolts her back into a role she’s more comfortable with.

“Multiple victims from a ten car pile-up headed in, we need you here tonight, Dr. Scully.”

“I’m on my way.” She doesn’t pause to measure the sense of relief that floods her, which is not a typical reaction to news of a long night of triage and trauma. She’ll make her apologies to Rob, but she won’t say anything about rainchecks or next times.

She dodges Rob’s phone calls for the next week, although work is genuinely busy enough that she doesn’t have to actually lie about why she’s not calling him back. Her mom is not so easily dissuaded. Maggie can’t seem to understand why her highly eligible daughter has made it to the ripe old age of 29 without at least a steady boyfriend.

“We just didn’t click, Mom,” she explains as Maggie questions why she’s not going out with Rob again.

“Well honey, sometimes you have to give a guy a second chance to make an impression,” Maggie sighs.

Scully sighs as well. Sometimes she placates her with promises to be more open, but other times, the best approach is to deflect attention to Melissa, who is several years older and also equally unattached.

“Mom, how’s Melissa? Have you heard from her?”

Maggie knows this is a diversionary tactic, but lets her off the hook anyway. Their conversation wanders away from the topic of Dana’s love life and onto speculations about Melissa’s.

It’s not until a week later Scully remembers that Mulder neglected to call her. And then it’s a quiet Friday another week after that when her phone rings.

“I don’t suppose you’re in Philadelphia right now?” He doesn’t even bother with hello, so it takes her a minute to place the confident, teasing voice on the other end of the line.

“Alas, no,” she smiles, settling down into the soft corner of her couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table. “Why? Should I be?”

“It’s just that I have the strangest hankering to go and see the Liberty Bell. I’ve been here a hundred times and I’ve never seen it.”

“You’re not missing much. It’s a big bell with a big crack, and you have to wait in a long line.”

“Still,” Mulder pauses, “I’d really like to go. You want to come meet me?”

“At the Liberty Bell?” She incredulous, sitting forward on her elbows now.

“Yeah, it’s only, what, three hours drive?”

“Three hours and a dozen tolls,” she laughs. “Plus, I think they’d be closed by the time I get there.”

“Hmmm,” he hums looking at his watch, “true. They probably close after 11.”

“So you’re assuming I’m just going to hop in my car at 8 p.m on a Friday night and meet you in a city three hours away?” Scully is almost impressed by his audacity. “If I remember correctly, we’ve only met twice, and the second time you never called me back.”

“I’m calling you now, aren’t I?” She can hear the smile in his voice.

“Okay, fine. Let’s imagine I hop in my car and meet you in Philadephia. What are you doing up there anyway?”

“On a case. I think I’ve got real proof of psychokinetic activity this time.” He’s breathless, eager.

“Psychokinesis?” Scully laughs. This is an entirely different galaxy – nay, universe – from conversations about tax accounting. “You mean how Carrie got even at the prom?”

“Basically, yes.” He laughs too, and then there’s an awkward pause between them, a low hum over the telephone line that’s neither physical nor entirely imagined.

Scully takes a deep breath before she can change her mind.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, let’s go to the Liberty Bell.”

“Really?” His voice raises half an octave.

“Don’t make me second-guess myself, G-man,” she retorts, getting up from the couch and hurrying to change into something resembling an outfit. “And you better be buying the cheesesteaks because a girl gets hungry after a long drive.”

“You got it, doc.”

Three hours is a lot of time to second guess oneself, so she finds herself pushing the speed limit more than her usual nine-and-a-half miles over. If she drives faster, she won’t have a chance to analyze the logic of driving three hours to meet a man she’s only met twice – both times in a hospital, and both times he has talked about monsters. Well, monsters or aliens.

What the heck is she doing? She doesn’t know, but she can’t suppress the giggle that bubbles in her belly when she imagines his face when she told him she’d come. Somehow she can picture his wide-eyed surprise, and the way his lower lip must have turned up in a smile.

Why is she thinking about his lip? She barely knows him. Shut up brain. She drives faster.

To his credit, Mulder is waiting at the entrance to the deserted Liberty Bell pavilion parking lot with two oblong foil-wrapped cheesesteaks.

“I had to guess how you’d like yours.” He raises hers up in the air as a greeting as she steps out of the car. “Sorry.”

“I’m sure you did fine,” she smiles, reaching for the sandwich. Now it’s awkward. Should she hug him? Give him a kiss on the cheek? Shake hands?

He’s not helping, staring at her with a quizzical look, his eyes darting between the sandwich in his hands and still-lit pavilion behind her. Scully raises her eyebrows in a question, and shrugs.

“Well?” She says.

“C’mon,” he gestures with his head toward the lighted building. “I bribed the guards to keep it open.”

“You bribed the guards?”

“Bribed, threatened, cajoled, whatever.” He smiles. “The badge comes in handy sometimes.”

“So you’re saying you misused your credentials to convince some poor, beleaguered Liberty Bell attendants to stay open three hours past closing just so we can see this big cracked hunk of tin?” Her words are sarcastic, but her tone rings with delight.

“You make it sound so nefarious,” he says innocently. “Like I said, I just wanted to see it this time.”

“What about the sandwiches?”

“We can eat them inside.”

Scully shakes her head, smiling. This is, hands down, the strangest date she has ever been a part of. And now she’s not even sure it’s a date. He hasn’t attempted to touch her. Not a hug, not a hand on her shoulder. She’s suddenly worried she has misread this entirely, that this is just some strange overture of nerdy friendship. An uncomfortable sinking feeling lodges in her stomach as she searches for a way to ward off her embarrassment if it turns out she made too many assumptions.

But as they walk up to the building, he reaches ahead of her and opens the door, making an arch with his arm for her to walk under. She looks up at him with a smirk as he follows behind her, his hand pressing the lightest touch in the hollow curve of her back.

#paging dr scully #xf fic #x files fanfic #msr fanfic #xf alternate universe #xf au #mywriting

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revjonbanks-blog · 5 years ago

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A little about me

When I was in my early twenty’s I had a friend who was the daughter of a Church of God pastor in my hometown. The Church of God (Anderson, IN) had a statewide Camp Meeting outside my hometown every year. They would have something going on every day for a week. Every evening a preacher chosen for that specific year would preach. That year my friend persuaded me to go.

It was the last sermon on the last night of the week. I was sitting about three rows from the very back. When the invocation was given I wanted to go forward to the altar, but I just stood frozen. In my mind I said, ‘Jesus, I can’t walk up there. If you want me, you’ll have to come and get me.’ Immediately, a hand was on my left arm and leading me to the altar. As I started to kneel, I looked to my left to see who had led me down that long isle. It was Jesus, the Son of the living God. As soon as He let go of my arm He walked around the end of the altar and knelt right in front of me. The pastor, my friend’s father, knelt to my right and the gentleman who had preached the sermon knelt in front of him. They both began talking to me, but it seemed like their words were coming from light years away; I was so overwhelmed by the Presence of Jesus that I couldn’t understand a thing they were saying. And that night, kneeling in front of the Son of God, I became a Christian at a camp meeting in the country.

From that night on I felt the Presence of Jesus every day for one to two months. His Presence was especially prevalent in the mornings when I would awake. I would fall to my knees as soon as my feet hit the floor in total awe of what I was experiencing. I didn’t see Him during these times, but I knew exactly where He was standing each morning, and the entire room was filled with His glory. (The Holy Spirit witnesses to my heart right now as to how precious and how real these experiences were and how, to this day, the Lord uses them to help me from time to time.)

A few years later an elderly lady invited several people to her house after church one Sunday morning for some snacks and cold drinks. My wife and I attended. At one point this lady asked us to come into her kitchen. Another couple heard her invite us and they came, also. The lady then addressed me and said that she was the nurse on duty when I was born. She said that when she entered the delivery room Jesus was standing in a corner. She explained His Presence as being almost overwhelming. She went on to say that Jesus was also in the room my mom and I were placed in after my birth. She would pause each time she came in to check on us because His Presence was so glorious it was hard for her to bear. He stayed in our room until we were released from the hospital. It was so humbling to know that Jesus was present at both my natural birth and my spiritual birth.

About six months after my wife and I were married, we moved to Houston, TX where I would attend Gulf Coast Bible College (which later became Mid-America Christian University in Oklahoma City, OK). We both worked for a year before I started school. A man I worked with that year happened to be a student at the college. He invited me to a prayer meeting at a house in the Houston Heights that several young men from the college had rented. The house was built like a mansion. Just inside the front door there was a huge foyer and two stairwells, one to the right of the door and one to the left of the door, both leading to an open hallway upstairs that formed a half circle overlooking the downstairs foyer.

There were approximately twenty people present. Most of them were standing in the upstairs hallway. A few were on the stairs. I took a seat about four or five steps up the stairwell to the right, hugging the wall, in case someone might want to get by me. There were two or three men sitting several steps behind me, but none below me. This was in the evening and there were a couple of lamps left on in the foyer and also rays of light from a street light shining through some windows with sheer curtains on the front wall parallel to the stairs.

At a point in the prayer meeting, I think near the end, there came a period of complete silence. During that silence, someone put his hands on my shoulders. I sat frozen, not knowing what was happening. I then heard a voice say, “I ordain you to preach my gospel”. When the person removed His hands I opened my eyes and saw that it was Jesus who had ordained me. He then started up the stairs. I leaned back and, with my right hand, I reached out and touched the hem of His garment. I saw His garment move when I touched it. He stopped, looked back, and smiled at me. He then walked to the top of the stairs and disappeared. A man who was standing in the upstairs hallway was made aware that the Lord had dealt with me that night. The Lord actually let him see the same thing I saw after my ordination, an unclean spirit that was pursuing one of the students present in the prayer meeting. Twenty-four years later a church presented me with an ordination certificate. There was no ceremony. Jesus is the only Person that has laid hands on me.

My ordination is not from man, nor through the agency of man, but through the laying on of the hands of Jesus. I did not choose Him; He chose me. I now belong to Jesus and my allegiance is to Him and the Father alone.

Several months after that night, I started Bible College. A few weeks into my second semester my wife got a phone call from my biological father’s wife. (I had met them when I was sixteen and my dad had a bad heart condition. My wife and I went to see him the day we left for Houston. He was still working and doing okay.) His wife said that he had recently been forced to take a medical retirement from his work. The doctors weren’t giving him much time to live. He wanted us to move back to Oklahoma before he died. When my wife told me about this, I thought, ‘I can’t just drop out of college. It’s a four year college.’ However, after a week or two, I began to feel that God might really want me to leave school and move back to Oklahoma.

I prayed about it for several days and the feeling wouldn’t leave. I asked the Lord to please let me know for certain if He wanted me to do this. I then put a cotton work glove on the grass outside our apartment and, with my finger, I drew a twelve to fifteen inch circle around the glove. I prayed and asked the Lord to let there be dew on the ground but not on the glove, nor within the circle, if He wanted me to leave school and move back. I checked the following morning and the dew was on the ground, but not on the glove, nor was it in the circle. I then asked that He do the opposite the next day, let there be dew on the glove and within the circle, but not on the ground. That next morning I overslept and was almost late for school. I rushed outside and quickly checked the ground, and it was dry. I crawled to the glove and it was wet with dew, as was the circle around it. We began packing our belongings and within days we were on our way back to Oklahoma.

After driving over eight hours we stopped and spent the night with my wife’s family. My dad lived approximately thirty-five miles north of them. The following day we visited with her mother most of the morning, then drove to my dad’s house. We arrived around noon. He and his wife were so surprised to see us. They had no idea we were coming. We never thought about letting them know. I had just asked the Lord what He wanted me to do, and then did it. They weren’t prepared for company so my wife and his wife immediately left for town to get some food to prepare for lunch.

My dad and I were standing outside talking when they left. They hadn’t been gone one minute and my dad had a heart attack. I helped him inside the house and laid him down on a cot by the wall just inside the door. In approximately one and a half minutes more, he passed away. I just stood there beside him, looking into his open eyes that were so still and so quiet, not knowing what to do. We had no cell phones back then so I couldn’t contact my wife. He lived a few miles from the nearest town so I didn’t bother calling an ambulance. I soon went outside.

My dad wasn’t a Christian when he died. I began asking the Lord to give him another chance. I sat on a porch step and prayed and prayed and prayed. Every once in a while I would stand up and pace back and forth on the patio and then sit back down. Twice I went back in the house and checked to see if my dad had come back to life. After what seemed like an eternity of sitting and pacing, sitting and pacing (it was actually about twenty-five to thirty minutes), I sat down for the last time and heard the words, “I have heard and I have answered; I have given you the desires of your heart”. I rushed inside and he was still dead. I went back outside for a few more minutes, and then went back in, and again, he was still dead. I thought, ‘Maybe I have to tell him to wake up,' but, before I could speak, the last Adam, Jesus --- the life-giving Spirit --- breathed into him and he awoke from sleep. His first words were, "I was dead!” He said it three times and then began to praise Jesus.

As he was praising the Lord our wives returned. His wife went into a panic and started screaming, “What happened. He’s never looked this bad before.” I assured her he was okay and that he only needed a bath (he had passed his bowels and urine). After this day my dad still had a bad heart but he had renewed energy and vigor. He and his two brothers began going from one Church of God to another in Oklahoma, each giving their testimonies. My dad always worked into his testimony a statement saying, “People say that when you’ve been dead as long as I was, your brain will be affected, and I can attest to its truth – my brain was affected drastically -- I was a sinner, now I’m a saint; I was dead, now I’m alive.”

Several years after this experience, I was at a prayer meeting in North Carolina that was being held in the loft of a barn. There were about twelve to fifteen people present. I was sitting in a chair beside a middle aisle that ran down the middle of the loft. As we were praying in silence, I was suddenly filled with faith that what was beginning there would spread to the north, south, east, and west. I stood and began to speak but was cut short before I could complete a sentence. In the blink of an eye, I was standing beside Jesus in a place far above the earth. I don’t know where we were, whether in heaven, or on top of one of the highest clouds. God knows.

Jesus was standing to my left, facing me; Peter and John were to my right. I saw someone coming up from behind us and turned to look, and it was James. When I saw him, I glanced down and saw my body lying on the floor in the loft. Jesus began telling me I had been born before my time, and that the knowledge I had received would be usable, but I must wait until God completed a work in His people. He didn’t tell me what that work was. While Jesus was talking to me, Paul appeared, walking from my right to my left, several feet in front of me. He was looking straight at me. I had the feeling that he knew me. Jesus then told me about my call and I returned to my body. My physical body ached for almost three weeks after this experience.

These have been just a few experiences that I’ve I held in my heart for nearly fifty years. Recently I shared them with two different people in two different places at two different times and both of them felt that I should share them with others. So I now believe the Lord wants me to share them. I have written them for the sole purpose of exalting Jesus and the Father, who love us beyond our ability to comprehend.

If you would pass me on the street you wouldn’t even notice me. I’m just another nobody from nowhere. There’s nothing good in me except that which Jesus has worked in me. I realize this may sound like a cliché, but it’s the absolute truth.

Rev. Jon David Banks, God’s most unworthy servant

#Jesus christians christianity

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marxpobert-blog · 6 years ago

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I was one of the many crores (millions) of people who headed to the Prayag Kumbh 2019 – which was the Ardh Kumbh Mela in Prayagraj, earlier known as Allahabad. Media reports say that the numbers are estimated to be 15 crores or 150 million or more this year. And while apparently the Guinness Book of World Records pronounced the Maha Kumbh Mela in 2013 as the “largest ever gathering of human beings for a single purpose” it is believed that the Ardh Kumbh in Prayagraj this year would have more people thronging the shores of the Sangam – the confluence of the rivers Ganga, Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati.

Pic Courtesy – UP Tourism

Kumbh Mela – a melting pot of faith and devotion

Beckoned by “Mother Ganga” or “Ganga Maa”, the banks of the river are filled with crores of pilgrims who have nothing else to offer but their faith and devotion . An old man clutching his aging wife, a young boy carried by his doting father on his head, a mother with her teenage daughters staying close together – families bonded by love and duty are here to pray to the goddess river.

At the Sangam it’s their devotion and belief that bathes their minds as they dip into the river. The water is warm , like the affection of a mother welcoming them into an embrace . She welcomes the crores of people who believe that a mere dip in her lap will wash them off their sins .

Faith has many dimensions to it and this is probably the most profound aspect of it . And that is the single purpose that has drawn millions of people to the Prayag Kumbh 2019.

Kumbh Mela – A spiritual journey

However for me it was curiosity that had initially drawn me to the Kumbh Mela. And when I received a media invite from Uttar Pradesh Tourism and Lonely Planet Magazine, I decided to accept it to understand the underlying motivation that brings people in hordes to the Kumbh. And waves and waves of them arrived, carrying their bundles upon their heads, holding their near and dear ones close lest they get lost in the madding crowd.

I have a phobia for crowds and yet, I stood there, transfixed and watched.Wearing their finest clothes, they greeted me with beaming smiles and readily posed for photos as they told me their stories. And while they came from nooks and corners of the country – on foot, on bullock carts, on overcrowded buses and trains, chartered helicopters and flights, they all came for the one single dip in the lap of mother Ganga.

And as I watched them immersed in their faith, something stirred inside me as well. The curious onlooker in me was swept away by the force of spiritual fervour that filled the air. And I was simply overwhelmed.

Just then, the voice of my guide, Sandeep interrupted my reverie as I heard him say , ” All Bollywood films begin with a lost and found story in the Kumbh.” And as we smiled, we listened to the voices of people calling out to their lost loved ones over the loudspeaker. I suddenlyrealized that I had indeed embarked on a different journey this year.

But this post is not about me or my inner journey and my tryst with spirituality. It is about a guide to the Prayag Kumbh 2019 with some information on the importance of Kumbh mela. There are three other venues for the Kumbh Melas besides Prayagraj – Haridwar, Ujjain and Nasik -Trimbakeshwar being the other three and it is celebrated four times over twelve years. While it is the Sangam of the three rivers in Prayagraj, the venues for the other spiritual festivals are the banks of the Ganga in Haridwar, the Godavari in Nasik and Shipra in Ujjain.

The story of Kumbh Mela

The Kumbh is referred to as the sacred pitcher which carried the nectar of immortality or Amrut. The ancient Puranas or the Vedic texts talk about the samudra manthan – the churning of the oceans when the Devas and the Asuras – deities and demons. fought over the Kumbh of Amruta or the immortal nectar. According to the legend, Lord Vishnu disguised as a beautiful woman called Mohini tricked the demons and gave the nectar to the gods. And as he flew heavenward with the Kumbh, a few drops of the nectar were spilt on the four sites. The entire legend takes over twelve days which in human calendar translates into twelve years. And astrologically the dates of the mela are planned keeping in mind the planet positions and the auspicious time. Over the period, the rivers become symbolically filled with the nectar and a mere dip is enough to cleanse people of all sins.

The origin of Kumbh is not known historically but it was Shri Adi Shankaracharya, the Hindu saint and philosoopher who established the Kumbh Mela and the Ardh Kumbh and brought all the different sections of the Hindu faith together to the Kumbh. The word, “akharas” is believed to have derived from “akhand” which means indivisable. It is believed that Adi Shankaracharya established ten akharas.

The ritualistic dip in the rivers find mention in the travels of Hieun Tsang or Xuanzang who apparently witnessed several devotees celebrate the festival in a town. It is believed to have been identified as Prayagraj during the reign of King Harsha. However historians are still divided as to whether the Chinese traveller was recording the Kumbh Mela or if it was a Buddhist ritual.

There is the Maha Kumbh which happens every 144 years besides the Kumbh Mela and the Ardh Kumbh At Prayagraj it is the Ardh Kumbh this year and it is from January 15 to March 4. Although every day is believed to be a divine experience, there are specific auspicious days for bathing – referred to as Shahi Snaan. In Prayagraj Ardh Kumbh the dates are January 15, February 4, February 10, February 19 and March 4. For more Kumbh mela infomation, you can refer the official website and wikipedia as well .

Pic Courtesy – UP Tourism

Kumbh Mela and Naga Sadhus

Coming back to my experience of the Prayagraj Kumbh, I was there during the second Shahi Snaan on February 4. While it was an overwhelming experience to see waves and waves of devotees, the Naga Sadhus are the showstoppers. Out of the millions of people who throng the Kumbh it is amazing how everyone’s attention is veered towards the naked Naga Sadhus .

Pic Courtesy – UP Tourism

Of course they are dramatic in their appearance , sometimes stark naked but at many times covered in rudraksham beads and many have a fancy head gear as well . Smeared in ash from burnt wood of dead trees, they have an aura around them. They are friendly enough but most of them will pose for you and chat you up if you offer them money . And they know the US dollar from the Singapore Dollar .

I would have personally liked to spend more time with them , understand what made them give up their normal life .Shedding clothes is just a metaphor for shedding their inhibitions . While most of them are colourful personalities, I read somewhere that some of them were indeed professionals who had given to their regular life to become Naga Sadhus .

But my guide says that they live in cities like Varanasi in their communes and sometimes they may even merge with the locals , bereft of their identity as a Naga Sadhu. Indeed some of them apparently carry even fancy smart phones and drive cars – but then I have only heard of it from people. Perhaps one day I will get to speak to a couple of Naga Sadhus and understand the mysticism around them .

My Kumbh Mela Experience

However it was the entire atmosphere of positive energy that overwhelmed me. And I am not just referring to the pilgrims. Even though we are a media group, we walked around for miles and merged with the milieu. From the smiling cops to the selfless cleaners, everyone was so selflessly dedicated to the Kumbh Mela. I am completely impressed by the immaculate arrangements. I walked around for miles and everywhere it was clean and spotless. From toilets to tents, there were facilities for every kind of traveller and pilgrim. There were even helicopters that will fly you to the Sangam .

Everything functioned as clockwork. There was security everywhere , even police on horseback. CCTVs awere installed everywhere. Helpful and friendly voices reached out to you , if you were lost. I have a phobia of crowds and yet I could barely feel the chaos of the five crore people as crowds were regulated. There were several bathing ghats and boats took you around.

Where to stay in Kumbh ?

Tent cities surrounded the Kumbh and you could stay in luxury or in simple tents with basic accommodation near the sacred site. We stayed in Indraprastha Tent City which was on the other banks of the Kumbh and there were e-rickshaws that would take us to the pontoon bridges which would take you across to the mela grounds.It is better to take the contact of the e-rickshaw driver and ask him to meet you at the pontoon bridge when you head back.

There are many bridges and hence make a note of the sector and number . The administration regulates these bridges based on the crowd and the cops are always helpful. However a bit of patience is requested from our side. Although it is advisable to stay near the mela grounds, there are shuttle buses from the city to the sacred venue in case you want to stay there.

When to visit the Kumbh Mela ?

While most pilgrims like to visit during the Shahi Snaan days, I would have personally preferred to be here on a regular day to soak in the atmosphere in a relaxed manner. However there are several restrictions on the days of the Shahi Snaan to ensure that there is no stampede and the people are safe.

Pic Courtesy – UP Tourism

It is important to understand the traffic arrangements as well as there are several check points and most of the routes are closed. It is advisable to spend at least a couple of days before and after the Shahi Snaan so that you get to understand these regulations and you can experience the Kumbh Mela without any hassle.

My Kumbh Momemt

My Kumbh moment came actually in Ayodhya and not at Prayagraj. I was overwhelmed by the faith of the millions who had travelled all the way from small villages and towns just to have a dip in the Sangam and then they visited Ayodhya where their pilgrimage is considered to be “complete” . I met a family of 30 members who had come from a small village near Uttar Pradesh – Bihar and Nepal border to Kanakbhavan in Ayodhya after the Shahi Snaan.

The serene temple nestled inside the sprawling palace was believed to be gifted to Sita by Kaikeyi after the wedding to Rama. And this family took a break after their long journey while the children played . “Hamara ek photo le lo” they requested . While I complied , they told me with beaming smiles that they will now begin their long journey back home. It would take them another week to get home as they have to travel by trains, buses and bullock carts to reach their village. I was humbled by the singular devotion, the unshakable faith and the immense positive energy . As I showed them the photograph, they thanked me and said , ” Sab Ganga Maa ki Krupa hai. ” (Its the mercy of Ganga ) I am grateful to have been part of this soulful journey.

The post My tryst with spirituality in the Prayag Kumbh 2019 appeared first on Lakshmi Sharath.

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aceprosecuties · 8 years ago

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Nahyuta wants to visit Metis' grave with Simon and they have a lovely angsty time with it

You know the way to my heart

ALSO THIS GOT LONG SO IT IS HERE BUT IT IS ALSO OVER AT AO3!

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“MayI accompany you?”

Simonpaused when Nahyuta voiced his inquiry; today was his monthly visit to MetisCykes’ grave, a task that he normally completed alone. There was one time where Athena joined him,right after he was finally exonerated, but he tended to prefer the solitudeduring such emotional moments.

“…Why?”

Nahyutatilted his head a little bit, clearly confused. “…Because she was important to you?” The way he inflected his tone at the end suggested a question ratherthan a statement, as if he was unsure that was the answer Simon had beenlooking for.

Simon,meanwhile, has folded his arms over his chest. “But she means nothing to you, so why would you wish to come along?”

Nahyutacouldn’t help but chuckle. He stood upfrom his spot on Simon’s couch, and walked over until he was in front ofhim. Nahyuta began doing the buttons onSimon’s vest, not meeting the man’s eyes when he spoke again. “My panda, you really can be an idiot attimes.” Despite the fact that he wasn’tlooking at Simon’s face, he knew that the man had frowned at the insult, asplayful as it had sounded. “She wasimportant to you, and you are important to me. Is it so surprising that I would wish to share such a moment with you?” He finished up the buttons and stood back tosmile warmly.

Simonhesitated. It was not as though he hatedthe idea of Nahyuta coming with him today. Admittedly, the thought made him feel slightly itchy; he usually wentalone due to wanting to feel completely connected with his dead mentor, andalso because, well…he never really enjoyed showing anything that could be perceivedas weakness in front of another person.

Also…whatexactly did this mean about the state of their relationship? Simon and Nahyuta were sort of in limbo –they were more than casual (the frequent trips to and from Khura’in were enoughto spell that out), but Simon never really believed them serious. Not that he didn’twant that, it was just…they never really spoke about it. Simon didn’t want to possibly push Nahyutaaway by bringing the subject up. Afterall, Nahyuta was the king-regent ofhis nation, and Simon was convinced that he needed to eventually pick an “acceptablesuitor.”

Simonwas sure that he was anything butthat.

“I…suppose you may come with me,” heeventually said, his volume quiet. If heappeared reluctant, Nahyuta did not pick up on it (or just chose to ignore it,more likely), and just kissed Simon’s cheek before smiling that damn beautifulsmile that made Simon’s heart speed up every single time he saw it. It was so frustrating, really, how etherealand lovely Nahyuta was, and it sometimes made Simon angry when he thought toomuch about how the monk’s eyes were like emeralds in his perfectly-crafted faceand how his hair was finer than the finest silk.

“Iwill just need to make a stop at the florist,” Simon informed Nahyuta when theystepped outside. Despite the fact thatthe Metis’ grave was a few miles away from his apartment, Simon never took a caror bus there. Instead, he would walk, onlybriefly stopping to buy flowers. Thetime he spent walking he would contemplate the past – he would remember histimes with Metis and her young daughter and his sister…back when they were alltogether and happy. Metis was somewhatawkward with most people, as she was with him at first, but eventually shebecame more comfortable around him and Aura, and he was able to see thewonderful caring person that she truly was.

Shewas a genius and there was so much more Simon wished to learn from her beforeher untimely passing.

Forsome time, Simon and Nahyuta walked in silence. Simon was alright with that – it allowed him to reflect and think aboutMetis, though the question about his and Nahyuta’s relationship annoyingly persistedin the back of his mind.

Theflorist wasn’t that far away, and when he entered the little shop, the womantending the flowers greeted him by name, indicating to Nahyuta just how oftenSimon stopped here. The saleswomanbriefly went to the back and returned with a small bouquet of white flowersthat were still closed. Simon thankedher after giving her some cash, and swiftly exited with the flowers in his handand Nahyuta at his side.

“Whatare those?” Nahyuta had never seen thatparticular plant, and was curious as to why Simon would get a flower thatclearly hadn’t bloomed.

“Moonflowers,”Simon responded, glancing at Nahyuta as they continued their journey down thesidewalk of Los Angeles. “They do notbloom during the day, instead opening only under the light of the moon, hencetheir name.” It was an obvious choicewhen he began visiting Metis’ grave, and he didn’t have the heart to changethem.

“Whatwas she like? Your mentor,” Nahyutaasked, after a few more minutes of silent walking.

“Shewas…incredible.” It was the firstadjective that came to his mind, and Nahyuta was genuinely surprised to hearsuch praise for another person coming from Simon’s mouth. Though…he really shouldn’t have been thatshocked, considering who Simon was speaking about. It was just not something he was particularlyused to. “She taught me all I know aboutpsychology, and was my sword training master on top of it.” For a few seconds, he contemplated a memory,and then chuckled when he voiced it out loud. “My sister would often get angry with me when I would apparently steal Dr.Cykes away from her. Aura never reallydid take to sharing.” He looked up,smiling softly at the sky. “I couldstudy psychology for the rest of my life and would never even approach hergenius.”

Nahyutasaid nothing in response. Instead, hereached out and took hold of Simon’s free hand with his own, and carefullylaced their fingers together. The actionsurprised Simon, as it seemed rather intimate, but it was comforting, so he didnot pull away.

Forthe remainder of their walk, Simon told Nahyuta stories about his time withMetis and Aura and Athena. How Athena atfirst was somewhat unresponsive to him (as a child, she was not nearly asextroverted as she is now, he explained), but soon warmed up to him after heplayed with her a few times and watched movies with her. She would drag him away from his lessons sometimesso that he could read her stories, and Metis always allowed it because she washappy that Athena had finally found a friend.

Heexplained how he would tease Aura about her very obvious crush on Metis,leading to a lot of back-and-forth pranks between him and his sister thatculminated eventually in both of them getting into trouble. Based on his conversations with Metis, andwith how she would often sneak glances at Aura when his sister wasn’t looking,Simon was convinced that the crush was mutual. But with Metis’ personality and awkwardness, she never acted on thosefeelings. To save his sister fromfurther heartbreak, he never told her these suspicions of his.

Hislessons with Metis were always rewarding, and sometimes grueling. She was an excellent teacher, and taught himmore than he ever would have imagined in the short time they had together. At first, psychology wasn’t something that hewas able to get the hang of; he was an expert in law first and foremost, sogoing from something so tangible as law to a subject that had its focus onsomething as volatile as the human mind was not that easy for him. But despite his shortcomings, Dr. Cykes nevergave up on him, and would never get frustrated when he performedless-than-adequately. She was alwayspatient and kind.

Heloved her for it.

Theyreached the cemetery, and even with so many graves, Simon had been here enoughto know exactly where Metis’ site was. Nahyuta followed, feeling a spiritual energy course through him as soonas he stepped on the grass; he might not have had the incredible powers of hissister or his mother, but he was able to notice spiritual presences when theywere overwhelming, as they currently were.

Metis’grave was not anything particularly remarkable, aside from the vines ofmoonflowers crawling around it. Simonhad specifically asked the groundskeeper to not remove them, as they addedsomething to the otherwise plain-looking headstone.

Nahyutasaid nothing as Simon knelt down to place the flowers in front of the stoneafter a few moments of silence. Hewatched Simon’s hand reach up to touch the engraving of Metis’ name; to maybebring some comfort to him, Nahyuta put his own hand on Simon’s shoulder,waiting for the man to stand up again.

Buthe didn’t.

Instead,Simon had begun to shake.

“Simon…?” The shaking had been very slight; the onlyreason Nahyuta even noticed was because he was physically touching him. Nahyuta knelt down beside Simon, only to seethat tears had begun to leak from his gray eyes, falling into a pattern thatresembled the dark markings on his face.

Itwas the first time that Nahyuta had seen Simon cry.

Again,Nahyuta whispered the man’s name, this time in a sympathetic tone. He squeezed Simon’s shoulder, hoping tocomfort him, but was saddened to see that he had no effect. At first, Nahyuta believed this to be justnormal mourning, but soon started having other suspicions, based on the painetched on Simon’s face.

Hissuspicions were confirmed when Simon finally formed some words.

“…myfault…”

Therest of the sentence was mumbled and hidden behind some harder sobs. Nahyuta softly whispered “what” to try andget Simon to clarify.

“It’sall my fault she’s gone,” Simon repeated, this time loud enough for Nahyuta tohear. Before Nahyuta was able to respondin protest, Simon just continued, becoming slightly more unhinged with everyword he spoke. “I put her in the Phantom’scrosshairs when I asked her to analyze his voice. If I…if I had just done it myself, or…or leftit alone, he would have pursued me that day rather than her…”

Clearly,this had been weighing on Simon for some time – really, ever since herdeath. He played over the scenarios inhis head way too often while he was in prison, always inevitably coming to thesame conclusion: the Phantom pursued Dr. Cykes to silence her only after she created his psychologicalprofile. And, she only crafted theanalysis specifically because Simon requested her help. Therefore, if he hadn’t gone to her, shenever would have been on the Phantom’s radar.

Itwas his fault.

Yes,in the end, they caught the Phantom. Inthe end, Simon was exonerated, and all suspicions of Athena dissipated. But also…in the end, Metis was still dead.

Andthen he considered himself partners with the very same monster who had killedher, never once realizing who he was dealing with. The fact that he didn’t notice earlier was aninsult to everything she had taught to him.

Althoughhe often thought these things, he had become almost numb to them after so many yearsin prison. For some reason, though,having Nahyuta by his side this time made him feel helpless again…like he waswhen he spent the first few nights in his cell, where he could do nothing butcry over the loss of his mentor and the guilt he felt over her death. He hated it; he didn’t want to show thisweakness to anyone, and yet here he was, weeping over his mentor’s grave like achild while Nahyuta watched him.

ButNahyuta wasn’t just watching. He couldn’tbelieve that Simon still harbored these feelings of shame and guilt…all of themcompletely unnecessary in his eyes. While whispering Simon’s name again and again, Nahyuta pulled the maninto him, wrapping his arms around Simon’s broad shoulders and holding himtight against his chest. At first, Simonhad resisted, but caved and allowed Nahyuta to envelop him, though he justloathed himself more for seeking out the comfort.

Nahyutastroked Simon’s hair as he waited for some exhaustion to settle him down, notwanting to speak over his sobs. OnceSimon quieted, Nahyuta spoke gently to him. “Simon…you’re far too hard on yourself. How could you ever have known that the Phantom would have ever targetedMetis?” He pulled back so that he couldstare into Simon’s eyes, which were still glossy and wet with tears, while hisown were full of righteous conviction. “Youneeded a profile on him…if you didn’t have one, there’s no way you would havecaught him. And…he might have killed youinstead.”

“Better-”

“Please do not finish that sentence.”

Nahyutaknew that the words that were about to leave Simon’s mouth were “better me thanher,” and he couldn’t stomach having to listen to them. “Yes, Dr. Cykes’ death was…is a tragedy, but replacing one tragedywith another isn’t better.” Besides…if Simon had been killed in Metis’place, Nahyuta never would have met him, and he didn’t want to think of a worldwhere he did not know Simon Blackquill.

Hebrushed some hair from Simon’s eyes, and he could tell that Simon still was unconvinced. “Please don’t think so poorly of yourselfwhen you have so many around you who think so highly of you. Who…who loveyou, Simon.”

Simon’seyes widened. It was the first timeeither of them had mentioned the l-word, and he was caught off-guard. Just this morning he was wondering about thestate of his and Nahyuta’s…relationship, and now…Nahyuta was alluding tolove? Sure, he could have been reallythinking about Aura or Athena, but…the way Nahyuta’s cheeks had gone slightlypink indicated that he considered himself in that group as well.

“Nahyuta…” Simon wanted to say something…anything in response to that, but wasonly able to form the other man’s name. He allowed himself to sink back into Nahyuta’s arms, closing his eyesand trying to calm himself back into a more reasonable state.

“Idon’t think Dr. Cykes would have wanted you to blame yourself, Simon. Especially not after everything you have donefor Athena.” Nahyuta may not have knownMetis personally, but from the way Simon spoke about her, he could not imagineher ever blaming him for her death. Instead, she would have been grateful to him for protecting her child,and for finally bringing the Phantom to justice.

A newfresh flow of tears stained Simon’s cheeks, and Nahyuta quietly clung to him. It took a few minutes for Simon to calmagain; he ended up with a splitting headache…it had been quite some time sincehe cried this hard and this long.

Nahyutaknew that a few choice words were not just going to undo years ofself-loathing, but he hoped that they had at least given Simon some ammoagainst those destructive thoughts. Hepulled back and wiped some of the wetness from Simon’s face with his thumb beforesoftly kissing his forehead.

“Wouldyou like to get something to eat? I’llbuy,” he suggested. Simon just chose tonod rather than respond verbally, and allowed Nahyuta to help him into astanding position. Nahyuta then tookhold of Simon’s hand once again, leading him from the gravesite.

Ifthey had turned around, they would have seen the apparition of a smiling womanwearing a yellow kimono watching them.

#ace attorney #blackmadhi #simon blackquill #nahyuta sahdmadhi #simon x nahyuta #blackmadhi asks #prosecuting boyfriends #my writings #metis cykes #listen I love giving simon all these feels and shit and mentally hurting him leave me alone #also ahh I hope you like it!!#I'm slight afraid simon is ooc here but like #I just want to have him cry because he's my fave and my fave must hurt #<3 #nerdyskeleton #allie answers

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pussymagicuniverse · 6 years ago

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In (St) Brigid’s Arms: an Imbolc Devotional

The week leading to Imbolc 2018 was probably the darkest end of January in my life, but it was the one where Brigid’s flame burned the brightest in my heart. Brigid had always been an important divine figure to me, as a goddess of poetry and creation, as the saint associated with the coming of spring and new life. She didn’t push her way forward as often as, for example, Ceridwen or the Virgin Mary had, but on 23 January 2018 my daughter Bonnie was born with congenital heart defects, and we sped away to a hospital in another city for a week. I was alone with my delicate, unwell child (who is now turning out to be quite a fierce and fiery child, heart problems or not, which is a relief almost one year on), and Brigid stepped up and made her presence felt when I didn’t know who else to ask for help.

When you unexpectedly find yourself in hospital with a poorly newborn (and still recovering from a c-section yourself) 35 miles from home, missing your husband and other children, frightened for the baby you’ve just brought into the world, then magic, prayer and ritual have never been more important, but also must be improvised. There is so much value in the meditative and energetic qualities of burning a plain white candle, and in over twenty years of practicing my craft, I didn’t fully appreciate this simple act until I wasn’t able to do it. For me, everything about Imbolc, and all the power of Brigid, can be distilled into a white candle – the purity of a new beginning, the desire to heal, take action, and create, in a single simple flame.

But a hospital is no place for candles, and all I had to hand was a little pouch containing a piece of black tourmaline, a seashell, the tiniest statue of the Virgin Mary I’ve ever seen, and a worry stone made of clear resin encasing a bronze-coloured heart emblazoned with a cross, which was a gift from a devout Christian friend during my pregnancy. I brought these items to hospital with me for the birth because I had anxiety about surviving my planned c-section without major complications (I’d had some problems in three out of my four previous births), but I ended up needing them for my daughter instead. Tourmaline is good for staying positive; seashells always bring me closer to the goddess.

And knowing (St) Brigid’s mythical connections to Jesus and Mary in Celtic Christianity and my own path of christopaganism, the cross and the figure of the Virgin were more than enough to connect with Brigid herself. The legend goes that St Brigid found herself acting as midwife to Mary at the birth of Jesus, and even nursed the newborn boy when Mary was too exhausted to do it herself. The time frame is more than a little muddled in this story – St Brigid lived several centuries after Jesus, though of course the pagan goddess Brigid pre-dates him, so I quite like the idea that maybe she was there… – so it isn’t meant to be taken as anything more than a myth. But it’s the energy of this metaphorical act of midwifery/nursing that I could feel coming from Brigid while Bonnie and I were in hospital: “Here, let me help you with this baby – she’s going to need you for the rest of her life. For now, you rest.” Whenever I wasn’t cuddling or breastfeeding Bonnie, for the long hours she slept in her hospital cot, attached to monitors and oxygen, I was doing my best to remember Brigid was looking after her for me, helping her tiny heart. It wasn’t easy, but I had to believe we’d get through whatever might happen.

But of course Brigid’s warmth and empowering love isn’t just for mothers and newborn babies, it’s for anyone who needs it and will honour it; she holds you, pockets your concerns, your frazzled stray thoughts, and lets you rest – then smooths it all out in front of you when you awaken so your problems are easier to solve, battles are easier to win, and she imbues you with strength to keep going. And that’s in the spirit of Imbolc, too: celebrated on 1-2 February in the northern hemisphere, halfway between the longest night and the spring equinox, it’s the border between winter and spring, a planning time, a chance to rest before launching fully into whatever it is you need to do as the light increases, gains strength.

If you feel Brigid’s call or need her assistance, there are so many things you can do to thank her; relationships with deities and/or saints must be personal, but there are tried and tested ways to start if you’re stuck. Create something – poetry, art, a Brigid’s cross – whatever it is, make it sincerely. Do something kind for new mothers or mums-to-be or babies – even mama and baby animals if you prefer them to humans (I know plenty who do). Light those white candles. Go out walking, look for snowdrops or other signs of life, even if you’re still surrounded by snow and ice. Find your own connection to the cross-quarter magic that drifts gently at Imbolc, slowly smudging dormant and dark into bright and alive, and grow with it, whatever that means for you. And I hope you grow well, as my Bonnie has grown.

Born in Southern Ohio, but settled in the UK since 1999, Kate is a writer, witch, editor and mother of five. She is the author of several poetry pamphlets, and the founding editor of four web journals and a micropress. Her witchcraft is a blend of her great-grandmother's Appalachian ways and the Anglo-Celtic craft of the country she now calls home – though she incorporates tarot, astrology, and her ancestors, plus music, film, books, and many other things into her practice. Her spiritual life is best described as queer Christopagan with emphasis on the feminine and the natural world. She believes magic is everywhere. Find Kate on twitter and IG - @mskateybelle - and at her website.

#motherhood #goddesses #goddess brigid #brigid #celtic goddess #paganism #pagan christianity #mother child relationships #jesus #virgin mary #ibolc #pagan goddess #pagan #celtic christianity #womanhood #pregnancy #birth #comfort

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dwestfieldblog · 6 years ago

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SPIRITUAL EMERGENCIES

Its been a hard nights day and I've been working like a God...Centring my chi by ( ) in conjunction with a little ( ) on Sundays but don't try this at home unless you have some. Under the influence but not persuaded, with no choice other than to follow my free will. 350 songs recorded in Prague (about a third of them are good enough) over a very long weekend and now ready to go again...Last month I heard my own voice in a dream saying 'Death is my second home', so perhaps another temporary close-down is coming. Hope that paragraph was pretentious enough. If not...meditating on 'The First law of thermodynamics...No energy in the universe is created and none is destroyed'. So all is well...

The recent magnificent Wargames with Russia and China...300 thousand men, (that's a lot) many fields of tanks and nautical miles filled with battleships, necessary because of (according to a joint statement from the protagonists) 'dangerous times' and 'unstable situations'. Reminds me of Bill Hicks quoting George Bush the older (the CIA president) saying 'The world is a dangerous place'...'yeah, thanks to YOU, quit arming the world!'. But this time around, these unstable situations are being more egged on and supported by Russia, gleefully supported as always by all those those make weapons. Trump is not the 'human' being to slow this down. Nature abhors a vacuum and she is rushing now to fill various empty heart/mind and soulless actions made by various leaders with processes of an irreversible...well... nature...Only '12 years' left now to avert climate change disaster...your newborns this year might very well inherit a desert. Well, if it was good enough for the Israelites...

Climate change debates witter on by men in suits flown in at great carbon footprint expense to sit around expensive South American wood tables and agree that time itself is running out. While those that disagree with them only do so because of well paying vested interests in the industries which drain, burn, drill and destroy. Human beings are like gangsters holed up and surrounded by the law, determined to take the hostages and cops with them when they go in a blaze of glory, just so they don't die alone. Reliance on coal continues, the need for oil because of ... 'lifestyle choices'...(ego)... back to RAW again...

'As soon as they find out how to put a meter between us and the sun, only then will we have clean energy.'

There is a very special circle of Hell reserved for the Barons of black gold, where they burn alive forever, lit by oil. And another circle for those mapping the human genome and copyrighting it so they can make billions from various medicines and procedures, holding the masses to ransom. Peace will occur either when it is more profitable than arms dealing or when there is absolute silence of death on the human side. How many people do you know who are neither whore nor pimp? Or both.

The purpose of existence is (NB. seems to me in my current long running reality tunnel to be) evolution...and as with self programming artificial intelligence, there is a type of instinctive logic which suggests that as any chain is as strong as its' weakest link...and the mass of humanity appears to be working against evolving, then nature will just erase us and get on with creating her own new thang without the apes. Quite right too. The universe is (seems to be) 'non simultaneously apprehended events and interacting processing' but until I pick the free crop of magic mushrooms in the mystic forest this late October month, I will just take RAW's cosmic trigger words for it. (The lousy alchemist cook says make sure they are washed and/or dried right. Vomiting mould covered nipple tops before any hallucinogenic gets into the blood proper is very little fun. Learning, or not from experience in the face of common sense is always a hoot. Ask my liver. ) Anyway...let's be Sirius...

'News'...Nick Clegg is to take over the Facebook worries. (Head of Global Policy and Communications in Silicon Valley) Nick Clegg. This shows JUST how much Zuckerberg gives a damn eh? Useless/Hopeless. For those who don't know or remember, some years ago Clegg was the leader of the Liberal Party in Britain who swore he would never allow an increase in University fees if he were ever Prime Minister. After the election 'win' of David Cameron and the Conservatives, (only made possible with the Liberals siding with them) it took about two weeks before he was forced to go back on his word and toe the line of his bigger coalition partner. (Can't have an easily affordable education, that would be dangerous) A weak and easily breakable man. Expect Facebook to go on paying even less tax, abusing your private information and allowing Russia et al free rein to influence the populace.

Nice to see the half a million march against Brexit in London. Will accomplish nothing but good that some people woke up before the face of this bullshit a few days later... 'Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks.....a eagle mewing her mighty youth'...Geoffrey Cox QC, the Attorney General invoking Milton at the Tory conference. Winston Churchill defined success as the 'ability to move from failure to failure without any loss of enthusiasm'. So, well done and three cheers boys..good luck with making Britain Great again. I would truly love to be proved wrong...but...

'In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice...and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance, a vendetta...held not as a votive in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose.' ...V for Vendetta via Hugo Weaving in an Anonymous Guy Fawkes mask. My other favourite quote from that film is.....

'And thus I clothe my naked villainy with odd old ends stolen forth from holy writ and seem a saint when most I play the devil.' Richard III by the real Shakespeare, which covers just about every politician and religious leader, bar a very very precious few. God may be great but he's not as fat as Buddha. And anyway, belief narrows reality tunnels. Which for some people, makes them feel stronger...

In October, Alternative fur (that's fur with an umlaut over the 'u', not the sexy animal hair which is so nice to stroke or be stroked by but I digress. Arf.) Germany... suggested quite firmly that middle school children report to them if any of their teachers said bad things about the new patriotic Nazi swine. Nothing dubious there, no harking back to cruel and better days of the old 'thousand year' Reich and denouncing intellectuals and subversives at all. A month before that, because of hearing shouting, I looked out of my own window one afternoon to see a six foot six skinhead, in army clothes and big black leather boots on a balcony opposite, drunk and rousingly crying out about Deutschland for five minutes in German to his mates in the kitchen behind him as he clasped a beer can. Perhaps he was only joking. Unlikely the grandmother living alone and above his flat thought so. And as for the massive shaven headed Slovak steroid monsters with tattoos on their necks who shout at each other in conversation even when both are sitting two feet away, their biggest insult to their tiny two old kids is to angrily shout 'Little gypsy!' at them when they do something wrong. All together now;Hail Victory! Fnord.

A bad death of a murdered journalist in the Saudi Arabian embassy in Turkey... followed by a lovely picture in the papers of smiling Crown Prince Bin Salman with Jared Kusher (a walking cypher of wrong cleanliness and evil married to Trump's daughter) No wonder it is yet another bastard thing for Trump to hope the connections all vanish from..as he gently damns the killing of a critic of the very royal prince while tweeting endless vitriol against the third estate in the USA. And Donald's glorious tit for tat bollocks about the old nuclear bilateral agreement with Russia... 'Well THEY started it, so we will react...ad infinitum'. Back to the happy days of being able to wipe out the planet seventy times over and rational cold war paranoia...at some point a computer will finally analyse all probable outcomes for the last time and find the one way in which a nuclear war could be won with minimal death on the home side. The computer it will say 'Go for it alpha monkeys'.

'How long o lord, how long? How low do you have to stoop in this country to be president?' Hunter S Thompson, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail 1972. (About Nixon, but ever more relevant by the day.)

Of course the masochistic paranoia of leaders will continue to find new and further devious outlets, displays and new laws...all the usual countries (IE all of them) behaving as if they can get away with murder forever. Forever, these days, is most likely shorter than a generation, unless there is already a dynasty of cruelty in place, where the buck/baton/cattle prod is passed down as an heirloom of death. Communication never gets to the top because underlings are scared to tell their bosses the truth in case the sweethearts are offended and kill them. (Meow and woof.)

*'The machine is running the engineers' Lenin on his deathbed. Communism, huh?

China's 'voluntary' organ donor scheme. Harvested from enemies of the state...70,000 annual operations...Got the money? Need a new liver? Sort you out in a fortnight, NO waiting list. Not suspicious at all, unless you are a doctor from another country looking into the massive amount of operations and the far smaller published donor lists. Hopefully, those rich enough to afford the instant new transplants will be better, peaceful people when they have their new tee total vegetarian Falun Gong organs in place. Whereas those with less to spend will have to make do with their internal workings run by other very involuntary donations made by dissidents who dared the high insult of comparing the 'president for life' to Winnie the Pooh.

Primum non nocere, you bastards. The Hippocratic Oath replaced by a hypocritical medical ideology of murder for profit. The state does not help the healthcare 'system' much, if at all, so the military hospitals with easy access to prisoners can get to work stealing what is needed from living bodies. Those arrested who do not give their names and places of birth for fear of involving their families are simple to vanish. They ceased to exist the moment they were caught. Download the report, written by two Canadians, one a former Crown prosecutor and the other a Human Rights Lawyer and make up your own mind as to the veracity. 'The Middle Kingdom between Heaven and Earth', the land which brought the world Taoism and Confucianism...

www.organharvestinvestigation.net

Take the time and read the report. Then ask yourself, if your children, parents or close friends needed a transplant to save their life (and you could afford a fast Chinese military hospital operation) would you truly care where the organ came from as long as it was healthy? If it was only for you, would you still take it, knowing where it had been stolen from or would you allow your own destiny to be? Desperation is one sure-fire test of the perception of morality.

*Ever notice all those t shirts, sweat shirts and bags with those certain cool slogans on? 'Happy to be an individual', 'My style is my choice', 'My freedom is my world', 'The end justifies the means'. Etc. Take a very cold and realistic guess as to where they are made and by whom and under what conditions. That's right.

I appear to live (temporarily) in a world where a printed sign on the inside of a toilet door needs to say in two languages 'First unlock the door then turn handle'. That's right kids/adults, you have to be able to open a door before you open it. Almost Zen wisdom but hardly rocket science or brain surgery. Stuff you learn at about the age of three. I have lost count (triple figures now) of how many customers in a certain shop I have seen standing next to a big, clearly printed sign on the counter to 'ring for service', watching them get ever more impatient as those who are working hard behind the scenes remain deaf and blind to their existence. And signs on the front door, inside and outside also in two languages, asking customers to please close the door. A third of them never do, even in heavy winter. The evil within me takes a savage glee at the depth of stupidity of these shameless idiots. The pathetic being within rejoices that he is not quite as dumb as these retarded bipeds and the fake existentialist feels a sweeping wave of sheer galactic horror. But...

Back to the litany once again and forever...quality over quantity. I have optimism for the few. They/you WILL make it. You will create it and become it. As long as you understand how to open a f...ing door, you are halfway there.

'Whoever can scare people enough (produce bio-survival anxiety) can sell them quickly on any verbal map which seems to give them relief. i.e. cure the anxiety. By frightening people with Hell and then offering them Salvation, the most ignorant or crooked individuals can 'sell' a whole system of thought that cannot bear two minutes of rational analysis. Robert Anton Wilson, Prometheus Rising.

And once the child/adult is afraid enough, they will follow the substitute parent/s, kept pliant and submissive by further shocks administered to their truly nervous system with the promise of support or threat of punishment. Shame forever without mercy on those outside the mainstream of politics and organised religion who maintain such deeply manipulative systems in the pretence of setting the tender initiates 'free'. You should be a positive alternative, not more of the same poison.

'You gave your life to be the person you are now. Was it worth it?' Richard Bach.Running from Saftey.

Onwards and inwards, sidestepping the unnecessary. You are your thoughts,'Reality' is personal, subjective and shaped by Will, the Love you come from and the Love you create. Happy everything/Sol Invictus to you and survive the long winter. Hibernate if needed, stay warm, learning and free...

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