#the expectation is that followers r just doing things for their prophet or god or company or leader

[mongeese]

Very small piece overshadowed by everything else but I full almost cried at Elgin's line here. Service to others and service to a cause you believe in as service to yourself. Not working for anyone else but dedicating yourself to your work and your community because you want to, because it matters to you. So fucking true. Anyway totally unrelated hc that definitely isn't me projecting I think Elgin's butch

[Image ID: A screenshot of The Silt Verses transcript. It reads

"PAIGE stares at her. She's genuinely touched.

PAIGE: Do you do anything for yourself, Elgin?

ELGIN: (Almost surprised by the question) All of this has been for me. You know that Paige, don't you?"

End ID]

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #22 – Fevered Star by Rebecca Roanhorse

This was a bit of an odd read for me. I grabbed it because I have vague but generally quite positive memories of reading the first book in the trilogy a few years back, and having finished this I’m not really sure why. It’s not that it’s necessarily an awful read – it’s engaging, the moment-to-moment prose is fine, I finished it easily enough. Hell there’s a decent chance I read the sequel at some point. But my main feeling finishing it is that it’s an artistic failure, that I can see the things it was trying to do and generally speaking it just didn’t manage them. Which is a pity, really.

The book picks up right after Black Sun ended, with the crow god reborn massacring the Watchers and plunging the city of Tova into chaos, and world into permanent twilight as the crow and sun gods battle in the heavens. Inconveniently, the actual sun priest survived, having faked her death and fled to the undercity following a coup shortly before everyone involved died, leaving the ritual incomplete and Serpio (vessel and host of the Crow God) alive. The story basically follows the fallout from this, with the sun priest, crow prophet and three other POVs each showing the political trajectory of some different part of the world as things spiral inevitably toward war.

Which is the first problem, really. This is the middle book in a trilogy, and oh you can feel it. The entire book is spent moving pieces into place and just, table-setting for when the actual dramatic plot kicks off in book three. Now, personally I actually quite enjoy books full of intrigue and conversations on the road as people travel places, but it gets a bit excessive. It doesn’t help that half the POVs get barely any development and feel like they end the book in the same basic emotional/ideological place they started it with no progress at all to their arcs. The whole thing ends up feeling like a giant prologue to the actual story.

A feeling which is not helped at all by the book’s length. I’m not at all opposed to fantasy books being less than 400 pages. I am in fact incredibly in favour of it, the ideas of reading another 1100 page tome just makes me exhausted. But when you’re trying to do a George R. R. Martin-style continent spanning politics-heavy cast-of-thousands epic fantasy, you really need the extra wordcount. The result felt incredibly choppy and rushed, almost more like an outline or storyboard than a completed story. Each main character rushes from pivotal scene to pivotal scene with barely any time for establishing status quos or building relationships and connective tissue – instead things are basically introduced once and then the POV’s internal monologue just explains its importance to you, pivotal events in the plot explained either after the fact or not at all. Maybe one or two character dynamics in the entire book actually worked for me, the rest just felt like reading the ‘relationships’ section of a character sheet. It made getting invested in the whole thing remarkably difficult.

The feeling of reading an outline of a book wasn’t really helped by the lore. We got lots of interesting tidbits and implications, even some grand revelation – and essentially none of them are ever followed up on, or given the weight they really need to really land. The revelation of the Sun Priest having no shit miraculous magic powers after three hundred years of them violently suppressing any sorcery especially is, not exactly brushed over, but certainly no one seems to react to it have as violently as you would expect. Similarly, there’s a great book in here of just Tovan political intrigue and festering generational grudges and conspiracies colliding in the dark, but then that would require cutting out Xilla and Balam’s entire plotlines to make room for it. (I still kind of love the idea of the entire Golden Eagle hierarchy being pretty bitter that the coup they’d been carefully planning for years got derailed because a rival house pulled a messiah out of their ass and wiped out the entire governing elite of the city).

Then there’s things like the magic system – or honestly I feel like I should put that in scare quotes. There’s this idea brought up a few times that every form of magic fits into a neat schematic, associated with a particular god and specifically opposing and counteracting one other type of sorcery. Which I honestly kind of hate, for the same reason that I kind of hate the fact the crow god of shadows and death apparently really is exactly as vengeful and cruel as you might expect from that. Which might be building up to a big reveal in the third book! Who knows. But as is, the entire metaphysical setup just feels terribly like something out of a midbudget tabletop rpg setting, and not at all in a good way.

Which is a shame, because generally the setting is just a delight. No small part of that is just from the novelty of an epic fantasy stories that’s painted in the colours of pre-Columbian Mesoamerica instead of Medieval Europe. But even beyond that, the interplay of the different cities and factions within them is very fun, and it’s just a breath of fresh air to have no straightforward hereditary monarchies in one of these at all. I can’t say is felt really real (it is an agricultural society, plunging the world into permanent twilight as the winter ends isn’t dire and ominous, it’s an imminent famine of apocalyptic scale), but the aesthetics of everything were certainly entirely on point. I was left pretty sad this isn’t a series there’s more high quality fanart for, really.

[herald-divine-hell]

I don’t usually make posts like this, but I want to be clear: I am a Muslim - the correct term for Muhammad’s followers would have been Mu’min, or Believers, as some of you know from my posts about Ramadan and Eid. I believe strongly in my religion and it’s called for mercy and compassion, justice and dignity, for all mankind. Do not make broad presumptions about our holy text, how it calls for the death of “non-believers” - a term not used in the Quran itself: k-f-r is multifaceted and means different things - especially to the Christians and Jews, commanding us to convert all mankind to “Islam” - a word in the Quran to mean the general practice of submitting to the Divine Will and not just the way brought to Muhammad.

Here are verses which display the Quran’s love of diviserty and commands for the Christians and Jews to follow their own faiths:

49:13: “O’ mankind! Truly We created you from a male and female, and made you into peoples [communities/nations] and tribes that you may come to know each one another. Surely the most know before God is the most reverent. Truly God is Relenting, Merciful.”

2:111-113 notes: "And they say: 'None will enter Paradise expect who is a Jew or Christian.' These are their desires. Say, 'Bring your proof if you are truthful.' Nay. Whoever submits themselves to Allah and does good will have their reward with their Lord. And there will be no fear for them, nor will they grieve. The Jews say, 'The Christians have nothing to stand on' and the Christians say, 'The Jews have nothing to stand on,' although both recite the Scriptures, like those who do not know say similar sayings; but Allah will judge between them on the Day of Judgement in what they differ [dispute].”

The phrase. “And there will be no fear for them, nor will they grieve” is a common sentiment made in the Quran regarding Divine salvation, and it is offered multiple times to not only Muhammad’s followers - the Believers, not the Muslims - but to other groups as well.

2:62: “Indeed, the believers, Jews, Christians, and Sabians—whoever believes in Allah and the Last Day and does good will have their reward with their Lord. And there will be no fear for them, nor will they grieve.”

5:69: “Indeed, the believers, Jews, Christians, and Sabians—whoever believes in Allah and the Last Day and does good will have their reward with their Lord. And there will be no fear for them, nor will they grieve.”

The Quran calls for the Christians and Jews to follow their own pathways to God.

5:43-48: “And how is it that they come to thee for judgment, when they have the Torah, wherein is God’s Judgment? Yet even after that, they turn their backs, and they are not believers. Indeed, We revealed the Torah, containing guidance and light, by which the prophets, who submitted themselves to God, made judgments for Jews. So too did the rabbis and scholars judge according to God’s Book, with which they were entrusted and of which they were made keepers. So do not fear the people; fear Me! Nor trade my revelations for a fleeting gain. And those who do not judge by what Allah has revealed are the disbelievers. And therein We prescribed for them: a life for a life, an eye for an eye, a nose for a nose, an ear for an ear, a tooth for a tooth, and for wounds, retribution. But whoever forgoes it out of charity, it shall be an expiation for them. Whoever judges not by that which God has sent down - it is they who are wrongdoers. And in the their footsteps, We sent Jesus son of Mary, confirming the Torah that had come before him, and We gave him the Gospel, wherein is a guidance and light to the reverent. Let the people of the Gospel [the Christians] judge by what God has send down therein. Whoever judges not by that which God has sent down--it is they who are iniquitous. And We have sent down unto you the Book (the Quran) in truth, confirming the Books that came before, and as a protector [guardian] over them. So judge between them in accordance with what God has sent down, and follow not their caprices away from the truth that has come onto you. For each among you We have appointed a law and a way. And had God willed, He would have made you one community, but He willed otherwise, that He might try you in which He has given you. So vie with one another in good deeds. Unto God shall be your return all together, and He will inform you of what therein you differ."

For Peace and Goodness:

8:61: And if they incline to peace, incline you toward it, and trust in God! Truly He is the Hearing, Knowing.

41:34: “The good deed and the evil deed are not the same. Repel evil with which is better [the highest good]; then behold, the one between whom and thee there is enmity shall be as if he were a loyal, protecting friend.”

The Quran does allow military action, but only for the sake of preserving one’s right to follow the Quran, and never to be transgressors. Indeed, there is evidence, given the Quran is the only true primary source of the Prophet written down, that Muhammad followed a concept of “just war” in defensive lens rather than aggressive actions. So, no, Islam does not wish to take the world and convert others by the sword. The early Muslims who succeeded Muhammad didn’t even do that when they conquered Rome [Byzantium] and Iran. The caliphate remained predominately Christian until the 9th, 10th, or 11th century.

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

New Norm

For the Anon who requested : Hey can I get a Sirius black x reader fic where their parents arrange their marriage.

Part 2

Trigger warning : Vomiting 

Sirius Black x Reader

You were practically inconsolable. Sobbing deeply into your pillow as your mother rubbed your back, your grandmother was behind her standing in the doorway with her nose slightly in the air. She was never fond of you- a troublemaker since you could walk. The family disappointment. The moment you were sorted into Gryffindor you expected to be disowned. Your paternal grandparents took it hard, your father even harder, but your mother- a soft spoken and at her core, kind hearted woman, still loved you. You were her only daughter after all. 

“This is no way for a young lady to behave.” Your grandmother tisked, and your mother looked over her shoulder, eyes pleading, “You’ve been given a gift greater then you deserve, to marry into the noble house of Black is a great honor.” That’s all she kept saying. How honorable it was, how lucky you were. You didn’t feel lucky. You choked slightly on your tears and your mother rubbed your back slightly harder. 

“I don’t want to be married! Not to a Black, not to anyone!” You sobbed, punching your pillow before shoving your face into it and letting out a scream. 

“Despicable.” Your grandmother scoffed. “You should be grateful, for a girl like you to marry a man like-”

“Mother.” Your mother spoke firmly, never raising her voice, “Give us some privacy please.” Your grandmother was displeased but she turned and walked swiftly from the room, allowing your door to slam shut behind her. It sounded like the lid of your coffin closing. Once you were alone your mother wrapped you in her arms, pulling you to her chest, allowing you to cry it out. When you were good and done and fully exhausted she pulled back looking at you. 

“I am sorry.” 

“Then why are you doing this to me?” You asked, voice pleading as you looked at the woman who was supposed to protect you. She smiled sadly, wiping the tears from your face with the sleeve of her robe. 

“We’re not doing anything to you, my love. This truly is for your own benefit. A good husband with a good name will take you far in life. You know, your father and I had an arranged marriage. We turned out alright, and we had you- and all your lovely brothers. Good will come from this.” You wanted to argue with her. To tell her that your father was a bastard and that they didn’t turn out alright. Your eldest brother hadn’t spoken to your family since he graduated and your youngest brother was so brainwashed he had never had an original though in his life. Nothing about your family was fine. “Besides, your father has already set these plans in stone. This summer you are going to marry Sirius Black. That is final, my love.” Final. If the door was the lid to your coffin closing then those words were the nails keeping it shut. 

“Okay,” You croaked. 

“Wash up and come downstairs for dinner, we will talk more then.” 

“Okay,” Your voice was broken and hoarse from your sobbing. “Will grandmother be there?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” 

On the other side of London Sirius Black was having a very similar and entirely different conversation with his own dotting parents. Much more screaming, and a lot less sobbing but the sentiment was the same. He did not want to be married. Not to you, not to anymore, especially not to someone his mother picked out for him. 

“I’M NOT GETTING MARRIED!” He roared at his mother who threw another curse in his direction, Sirius dodged it. 

“You will do as you’re told your ungrateful bastard! You bring shame on this family every single day, this is the least you can do!” She screamed back, his father sat in the parlor reading the Daily Prophet, ignoring them both. 

“I haven’t even graduated! And you expect me to be married? To some bitch you’ve picked out for me?” His mother sneered. 

“A bitch she is, perfect for you. I couldn’t get anyone worthy of the Black name, since you’ve disgraced yourself. You will be marrying Y/N Y/L/N. I think you’ll have more in common then you know, both pure-blooded family disappointments. The bottom of the barrel. You deserve each other. Maybe you’ll learn then.” He stopped when she said your name, surprised. He knew you, sure he did. A fellow Gryffindor a year below himself. He knew you were smart, and pretty and as far as he could tell, kind. Frankly, he didn’t even know you came from a pure-blooded family. When Sirius said no more his mother lowered her wand slightly, still sneering. 

“Go to your room immediately and do not leave until you’re fetched. We will be dining at the Y/L/N’s house later this week to finalize the plans for the ceremony. You will be ready to go, and you will be on your best behavior. Or else.”

“Or else what?” Sirius muttered, moving towards the stairs. 

“Or else your father will have to deal with you.” He wouldn’t admit it but that frightened Sirius to the bone. He and his mother could fight and yell their heads off for hours uninterrupted, but once his father got involved it ended swiftly and painfully. Sirius nodded once before stomping up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom, content to lock himself inside for the remainder of the week. 

  A week later you sat in your kitchen fidgeting awkwardly in a dress you would have never voluntarily worn. But your grandmother had bought it, and your mother insisted saying it was a gift and a kind gesture. You were convinced it wasn’t. A green light flashed from the next room over, where your grandfather and father were waiting for the Blacks to arrive, and you heard an unfamiliar voice going through introductions. 

“Get up,” Your grandmother snapped at you, and you stood but didn’t move. “Go!” She barked out, “If you’re to be the lady of the house it’s high time you learned some manors. Go greet your guests.” 

“Yes, grandmother.” You muttered, walking from the kitchen into the sitting room. You knew Sirius from school, mostly from the gossip of your dormmates- according to them he was a god and could do no wrong. You couldn’t deny he was fit and he and his mates were a laugh, but the Sirius you saw in your home was not the Sirius from Hogwarts. Gone was his usual laid back demeanor and it had been replaced with cold eyes and a painfully neural look. You were used to the rule breaking wild child you heard epic tails about. You were surprised he wasn’t brought here kicking and screaming. His parents looked just like him, and there was a younger boy with them, something with an R if you remembered correctly. 

“Hello,” You greeted them, glancing at your father and grandfather sideways as you attempted to muster a smile- it came out more of a grimace. “Welcome to our home, Mrs. Black, Mr. Black. Sirius. R-erm...” 

“Regulus.” The mother spoke curtly. You nodded.

“Regulus. Welcome.” 

“Thank you child,” She was a stern looking woman with a voice that cut through your thin dress, chilling your bones. But the father was even worse. He barely spoke a word, only stared at you disapprovingly. 

“Come to the dining room, dinner is ready,” You father offered, gesturing, the Blacks filed past him and you into the other room, Sirius glancing down at you and meeting your eye as we went. Dinner was awkward, the talk was strained and sparse. You ate your food quietly, keeping your eyes downcast and only speaking when directly addressed, which was rarely. You caught Sirius’s eye a few times during the meal and offered him a small shrug and halfhearted smile which he barely returned. At least you had one thing in common; your shared misery. 

“The wedding will be in July,” Mrs. Black stated, and that got both of your attention, two heads turned. 

“This summer? I’m-” 

“Thrilled.” Your grandmother completed for you, sending you a chilling look. You swallowed thickly and looked back down at your lap for a moment as the conversation finally shifted to why you were all gathered. 

“We can hold it here, if you’d like, in the yard.” Your mother offered, eyes misty with tears of joy at the idea. You were going to be sick. 

“May I be excused to go to the loo?” You managed to choke out, everyone looked at you, and your mother nodded. 

“Of course, dear, everything alright?” 

“Fine,” You spoke but you were already out of your chair as you practically ran from the room. You heard your grandmother’s voice before you shut yourself into the bathroom.

“She’s just nervous, you remember how it was.” Nervous wasn’t the word you would use. Disgusted was more accurate. Destroyed. Completely and utterly devastated. You retched into the toilet, spilling the contents of your dinner you had forced down. When you were done you laid on the floor for a few minutes, trying to calm yourself. 

“Sirius,” His mother pulled him from his thoughts. 

“Yes?” He asked boredly, pushing his food around with his fork. 

“Why don’t you go check on your fiance.” It wasn’t a suggestion as much as it was an order politely delivered for the sake of their company. 

“I’m sure she didn’t fall in,” He responded dirly and his mother’s face darkened. 

“Go. Now.” Sirius tossed his napkin down onto the table and glared back as he got up, following you in the direction you had went. He knocked on a door and opened it when no one responded and was met with a large office. Not the loo. He found another door and knocked sharply. 

“Be out in a mo,” Your voice called weakly from inside, he frowned. 

“It’s Sirius. I’ve been sent to make sure you’re not trying to escape through the pipes.” He joked lamely and listened to some shuffling on the other side of the door, when you opened it, it was from a seated position on the floor. He smirked slightly. “What are you doing down there?” He asked, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him, “Alright?” You scooted back towards the toilet and shook your head going green. 

“I think I’m going to be sick again, you might want to go,” You warned, gripping the toilet bowl with white knuckles. Sirius felt something for you in that moment- pity maybe. You seemed so young sitting on the floor of your bathroom, and that’s because you were. 

“I’ve seen worse,” He assured, wincing as you began to heave into the basen. He came forward awkwardly, scooping your hair into his hands, trying to keep it out of your face. “You should see James after a bottle of firewhiskey.” You snorted out a laugh before retching again violently. When you were done you sat back and wiped your mouth and Sirius dropped your hair, going to the sink to get you a glass of water. 

“Thank you,” You croaked, taking it and sipping it slowly, “I’m sorry you had to see that.” 

“It’s alright. Are you okay?” He asked, knowing the answer but wondering if you would grace him with honesty.

“No,” You whimpered, “This is all... too much.” 

“Understandable,” He agreed, sitting on the bathroom floor beside you, “I am sorry. About this, the situation we have found ourselves in.” You shrugged meekly and continued to sip on the water. 

“According to my grandmother marrying you is a blessing for a disgrace like me,” You spat the words, not looking at the boy. “Like I’m supposed to be grateful I’m marrying virtually a stranger. Like I’m supposed to be happy to be married right after I turn sixteen for Merlin’s sake.” He nodded sympathetically. 

“Well trust me, being seventeen doesn’t make it much easier. And according to my mother this is my punishment for being the family fuck up, no offense.” You waved him off with a hand, “So at least we’ve got that in common.”

“What a wonderful thing to share.” You mused and he chuckled. There was another knock on the bathroom door before it opened your mother poking her head in. “Mum,” You greeted her, how long had you been gone? 

“Y/N, are you alright?” She asked, coming fully into the bathroom eyes worried. 

“I think I’m ill, must be grandmother’s cooking.” You quipped and Sirius hid his laugh behind a cough. Your mother looked at you sternly for a moment before her eyes went soft. 

“Poor dear, come back to the table, say your goodnights and then go to bed, we can finish the planning without you, it’s not a worry.” You wanted to tell her you weren’t a part of the planning to start with but refrained. 

“Yes, mum.” Sirius got up first and took the glass from your hand, setting it on the sink before offering you his hand, which you took, allowing him to pull you up. “Thank you,”

“Don’t mention it.” He assured and your mother led you both back to the dining room. 

“Y/N isn’t feeling well,” She announced, and at the look of you no one could accuse you of lying, you were pale and clammy and still a bit green. 

“My apologies, Mrs. Black, Mr. Black. I wish I could have been better company.” You didn’t. Mr. Black simply nodded and you while Mrs. Black managed to barely hide a sneer. 

“Poor dear.” She stated drily, but you had an inkling that she could simply care less. “Feel better and worry not, your wedding will be taken care of, nothing for you fret over.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.” You managed a weak smile at her which she did not reciprocate.  Your mother ushered you off towards your bedroom and you managed to send Sirius a thankful glance over your shoulder as you went. 

You took solace in the little things over the next month of wedding planning. Mainly, that your mother allowed you to choose your own wedding dress much to your grandmother’s dismay. 

“It’s hideous.” She commented when you had brought it home. 

“I think it’s lovely,” you answered smugly before being forced to sit through another lecure about how ungrateful you were. She was right, you weren’t grateful for the torture they were putting you through. Your birthday came and went with little fuss, the only gift you received came late at night by owl. You went to your window, letting in the unfamiliar owl, and taking the small simply wrapped parcel from his leg before opening the attached note. 

Happy Birthday Y/N,

My mother said I should get you a gift for your birthday, and you’re lucky I talked her into letting me pick it out on my own, she’s got awful taste. You should see the dress robes she wanted me in for the wedding, even my father had to veto them. Anyroads, hope your birthday was good, happy sweet sixteen. Enjoy the wedding planning, I sure am. (Sarcasm if you didn’t pick up on it,). I will see you in a few weeks. 

Sirius

You smiled at the kind words, thankful for them. You set the letter aside and opened the package genly, revealing a small jewelry box, you opened it and allowed yourself a small gasp. It was a simple gold chain with a small ruby pendant, Gryffindor colors. You smirked, knowing it was a direct disrespect of his parents to get you such a gift, it made you love it more. You put it on and looked at yourself in the mirror, touching the jewel gently. 

The two weeks flew by sickenly fast and you found yourself laying in bed wide awake at three a.m. on your wedding eve. Your grandmother had denied your request to have some of your school friends attend, citing that there was no room on the guest list for half-bloods and blood traitors. When you finally slept, it was restless and you kept waking up, a pit in the bottom of your stomach. Finally, about the fifth time you woke up it was light enough outside that you could call it morning, so you dressed in a dressing gown and tiptoed downstairs. 

Your house was spotless, covered in flowers and decoration even though the ceremony would be held outside. You snuck into the kitchen and snagged an apple before going to the window to look at the backyard. Every bush was meticulously manicured. Chairs were set up with a white runner between them, leading to an altar adorned in more flowers. It was a bit too frilly for your taste but it wasn’t bad. You ate your apple, staring out over the scene before you, trying to picture yourself walking down that aisle, Sirius at the other end. You shuddered. 

“Y/N, you’re up early.” You turned to look at your mother and shrugged. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

“Too excited?” 

“Something like that,” You murmured and your mother looked at you with pity. 

“Come here dear child,” She offered you a hand and you came forward, taking it. She pulled you into a hug and you went limp in her arms. “It will be alright. I promise you.” You didn’t believe her but you still tried to seek comfort in her words. You found none. 

“I don’t want to be married,” You whispered. 

“I know, darling, but this is what is best for you, you must trust me.” You continued to cling to your mother like you were a little girl again. “You will return to Black manor after the wedding and I will miss you dearly.” You’d already had this conversation, this argument. “You will go to school, Sirius will graduate, and you will have a home of your own to return to by next summer. One more year of school for you and you’re done. You’ll be all set. A home, a husband, a life. It will be fine.” 

“Right,” Fine. 

You spent hours getting your hair and makeup done perfectly, all the while micromanaged by your grandmother who was in full force. If she couldn’t pick your dress out she was going to have a say in the rest of the ensemble. Finally, you were left alone for a few moments. You looked around at your bedroom, most of the important things already packed into a few trunks to be moved to Black manor. Your door opened and your father stood there, he was to give you away- literally and figuratively. 

“It is time. Come.” You walked to him taking his offered arm. He led you through the home you had grown up in and you felt a swell of emotions within you that you did your best to suppress. He stopped at the doors to the garden and waited for the music to start. One of your cousins was a flower girl and she stepped out first, throwing more petals onto the runner as she went. You were next. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as your father covered your face with your veil. Another few seconds past and he began walking, taking you with him. It felt like a dream- or maybe it was a nightmare. Either way you didn’t feel like it was real. The guest list was small and intimate, which made it easier. You kept your eyes trained forward as you walked and they landed on your soon to be husband. He looked handsome, standing there in his black dress robes, a flower pinned to his chest. He was looking back at you, an unreadable expression on his aristocratic features. 

You stopped just in front of him. Your father turned you towards him and lifted the veil again, leaning down to kiss your cheek with an emotionless face. This entire event was all for show, to fulfill some meaningless expectations that didn’t matter. He turned you back towards Sirius who offered you his hand, you took it, allowing yourself to move up to stand across from him. You didn’t listen to a word of the ceremony, only tuning in when your hand was squeezed. 

“Do you, Sirius Black, take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?” So many promises in such a fleeting moment for a union without any love. Sirius looked at you, holding your gaze. 

“I do. I take you, Y/N, to be my wife from this day forward, to join with you and share with you all that is to come, and I promise to be faithful to you, to protect you, until death do us part.” He went off script. The script you had been forced to sit down and memorize for the last three weeks. What did you need protecting from? 

Do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Sirius Black to be your wedded husband, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him, for as long as you both shall live?” You felt your throat closing up with panic as you looked at the man-the boy in front of you. As long as you both shall live, you repeated to yourself. He squeezed your hand again and you took a deep breath. 

“I-I do. I, Y/N, take you, Sirius, to be my wedded husband, with your faults and your strengths, as I offer myself to you with my faults and my strengths. I will help you when you need help, and turn to you when I need help. I choose you as the person with whom I will spend my life." As if it were a choice. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride. May Merlin bless this union.” Sirius took your other hand in his as well, so he was holding both in his. You never expected to be kissing your husband for the first time in front of a crowd of people- and you certainly didn’t expect the man in front of you to be Sirius Black. He leaned in and you fought to keep from pulling back. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, letting it linger for a moment as the guest applauded. When he pulled away he offered you a gentle smile which you returned. 

The reception was dull, even with Sirius by your side and the several glasses of wine you managed to consume. You danced when you were ordered to dance, socialized when you were ordered to socialize and ate at the designated times. Pictures were taken and you couldn’t help but wonder how they would look tacked up on the wall of your future home. Together. It was a weird feeling, to think about a future with the man, but it was becoming slowly less unpleasant. Towards the end of the night, Mrs. Black approached the two of you, placing an iron grip on Sirius’s arm and you didn’t miss how his entire mood shifted. 

“You will go inside, and floo home. There is more business to tend to here, for the adults. We will be home in an hour or so, you two will be in bed.” 

“Alright,” 

“Yes mother.” She corrected and he merely rolled his eyes at her. You began to panic. You were leaving? Now? You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to your mother. Sirius lead you into your house, into the quiet stillness that was welcomed. You stopped just inside, putting a hand on his shoulder as you slipped off your heels, holding them in your hand offering him a slightly lopsided and halfhearted smile. 

“I’ve been waiting to take these off all night,” You admitted, and he chuckled, offering you his arm as you walked through the house. 

“I don’t blame you, I couldn’t imagine going through that torture with the added bonus of being on stilts.” You snorted and he gave you the first genuine smile of the evening. 

“You’re cute when you do that.” Your cheeks burned as you entered the parlor where the fireplace was. Sirius helped you inside and took a handful of floo powder before announcing ‘Black manor’ and you were gone. Gone from your home you had grown up in, gone from your mother and your life and everything you were used to. You were now in an unfamiliar sitting room, surrounded by unfamiliar walls. Regulus sat on one of the sofas a book in hand. 

“Congratulations to the happy couple,” He drawled. 

“Shove it.” Sirius muttered, taking your hand and leading you from the room, up the stairs, and down the hall. He opened his bedroom door and ushered you inside. You looked around your husband’s room. You were hit with a wave of something. Sadness? It was the room of a boy, not a man, not a husband. A boy, because that’s what he was after all. Quidditch posters littered the walls, along with a grand Gryffindor banner that looked like it was stolen straight from the great hall- hell it probably was. Knick knacks and books and magazines littered his desk; at least he managed to put his laundry in the hamper. 

“It’s not much but it’s home.” 

“It’s lovely, very... you.” Sirius went to his bed, pulling a box out from underneath, opening it to reveal a full bottle of firewhiskey. “Shall we have a toast?” He asked hesitantly and your shoulders relaxed. 

“God yes,” You breathed and he chuckled, opening it. You came to the bed, sitting down beside him. Sirius took a long swig from the bottle before handing it over to you, and you did the same. 

“So... wife,” He started and you smirked slightly, handing the bottle back and watching him take another large gulp. 

“Yes, husband?” 

“Weird isn’t it?” He asked and you nodded, accepting the bottle when he handed it back.

“Really weird.”

“Bad?” He asked and you smiled slightly, nudging him with your shoulder. 

“Could be worse. They could have married me off to a Malfoy.” He laughed at that. You continued to talk about anything besides the wedding, besides your future. You became more and more relaxed in his presence as you drank and finally got the chance to properly talk. You moved from sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed to lounging across it, you laying on your stomach and Sirius laying with his back against his pillows. You felt light and happy for the first time in a month. You two sat, giggling as Sirius recounted one of his finer pranks against Severus Snape. You snorted again, covering your mouth as you pictured the look on the slimy gits face. 

“Have you always done that?” He asked and you quirked a brow at him.

“Done what?” 

“Snort when you laugh, I never noticed it before.” 

“I didn’t think you noticed anything about me before..” You admitted. Sirius nudged you. 

“Course I did. Smart, funny, and pretty. You’re a trifecta my dear.” You felt yourself blush again, looking down at the half empty bottle between you. 

“Thank you,” You murmured and he shrugged. You stifled a yawn as Sirius looked at you softly. 

“Sleepy?” 

“A bit.” 

“We can go to bed.” He offered and you nodded. You looked around, suddenly aware that your trunks weren’t there in his room, they had probably been delivered downstairs, if they’d been delivered yet. Seeming to read your mind Sirius peeled himself from the bed, going over to his dresser. He took out a t-shirt of a muggle band you didn’t recognize and tossed it towards you. He went to another drawer and rooted around for a moment before coming up with a pair of boxers. 

“These are old, they should fit you,” He stated, tossing them as well, you caught them, rosy cheeks. He pointed to the door that was slightly ajar, “Bathroom is in there,” You nodded, and climbed out of the bed, smoothing out your dress. 

“Thank you.” You went into the bathroom and once you were changed you reemerged. The t-shirt was long on you, covering the boxers you were wearing. Sirius was lounging on the bed in a pair of sweatpants, shirtless. You averted your gaze, scratching the back of your neck. Sirius sat up, seeing you hesitate. 

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” He asked and you shook your head, going to place your dress over the back of his desk chair. 

“No, that’s alright.” You promised. He looked handsome basked in nothing but the light of the moon and the small oil lamp on his bedside table. You climbed into bed beside the boy and he pulled the covers over both of you, reaching over you to turn the lamp off. You flushed again with him so close to you. He moved away and you a moment past where you missed the proximity. Sirius laid back into his pillows, and you curled up on your side facing him. He turned his head and smiled at you. 

“Goodnight, my wife.” He raised a hand, brushing a lock of your hair away from your face. 

“Goodnight, Sirius.” He leaned over then, placing a small kiss on your cheek before settling back in with a large yawn. You remained curled up on your side until well after he had fallen asleep. You were exhausted but being surrounded by so much unfamiliarity you couldn’t sleep. Eventually you drifted off to the tune of your husband's light breathing. Your new norm.

[little-chattes]

Ok so I’ve done a complete re-read through and one thing that kept nagging at me was how little Gideon and Harrow’s relationship makes sense given its quite frankly abusive origins. Harrow spends her whole life making Gideon’s a living hell and Gideon just… forgives her. Total and complete forgiveness for an irredeemable girl.

At first I took the sudden shift in their relationship as lazy writing to rush along the end of the story, but that didn't make any sense either. Muir strikes me as an intensely purposeful writer. Then I remembered that Muir is also an intensely Catholic writer and it hit me. Muir isn’t writing a story about a healthy human relationship, oh no, she’s writing a story about Christ’s relationship with The Church… if Christ was a sword toting butch lesbian and The Church was a sardonic bone witch. Call it tender blasphemy. 

Now Gideon’s role as a Christ figure is fairly easy to parse out given that her dad is… God. But for the sake of self indulgence (I have to put my 15 year long flirtation with Christianity to use somehow) I’m going to go through all the parallels anyway. There are a LOT of them.

Let’s start at the very beginning (a very good place to start).

Miraculous Conception

Luke 1:34-38

34 But Mary said to the angel, “How will this be, since I [e]am a virgin?” 35 The angel answered and said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; for that reason also the [f]holy Child will be called the Son of God. 

Gideon is conceived by artificial means when one of God’s own servants (Mercy) delivers a sample of John’s genetic material to Wake, a ‘normal’ human woman who chooses to carry Gideon in her womb. Notably, the sample lives far beyond its point of expected viability, thus making the conception somewhat miraculous (“Only the sample was still active, no idea how considering it was twelve weeks after the fact” HTN 441). 

The Cuckold

Matthew 1:18-25

18 Now the birth of Jesus the [a]Messiah was as follows: when His mother Mary had been [b]betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be pregnant by the Holy Spirit. 19 And her husband Joseph, since he was a righteous man and did not want to disgrace her, planned to [c]send her away secretly. 

Gideon the First decides not to kill his lover, Wake, and releases her out the airlock (AND HE TOOK PITY ON ME! HE TOOK PITY ON ME! HE SAW ME AND HE TOOK PITY ON ME” from Harrow’s vision of Wake’s note, HTN 124) just as Joseph took pity on Mary, his betrothed, by deciding to divorce her quietly instead of making her infidelity public which would condemn her to death by public stoning (Deuteronomy 22:21). Gideon the First knew that Wake was pregnant and didn’t tell John because he thought the baby was his. Similarly, Joseph goes on to raise Jesus as his own son.

The Birth

Luke 2:7

And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a [f]manger, because there was no [g]room for them in the inn.

 Neither baby Jesus nor baby Gideon were given a proper cradle, one being laid to rest in a manger where the animals ate and the other stuffed in a transplant bio-container (GTN 23). 

The Dead Children

16 When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi.

King Herod intends to kill the prophesied King of the Jews and instead of finding the specific baby, he just has a bunch of them slaughtered. However, Jesus escapes the slaughter of the innocents by Herod when his parents secret him away to Egypt.

 When the great aunts gas the nursery and kill the 200, Gideon is meant to die along with them but escapes her fate.

Now this event has a completely different biblical connotation for Harrow. 

Firstly, the murder of the 200 children represents Original Sin. In the bible, Adam and Eve disobeyed God in the Garden of Eden, and as their descendants, all of humankind is doomed to also bear the weight of that sin from the moment we are born until the day we die. This is a fact that is drilled into Christians as soon as we’re able to understand it, we are born wretched and unworthy sinners, and there’s nothing we can do ourselves to fix that. 

“I have tried to dismantle you, Gideon Nav! The Ninth House poisoned you, we trod you underfoot—I took you to this killing field as my slave—you refuse to die, and you pity me! Strike me down. You’ve won. I’ve lived my whole wretched life at your mercy, yours alone, and God knows I deserve to die at your hand. You are my only friend. I am undone without you.”

Harrow is a multitude, she is 200 children, the entire future of her house. Shes not just one human being,, she’s the whole damn church.

Naz/Nav

he went and lived in a town called Nazareth. So was fulfilled what was said through the prophets, that he would be called a Nazarene.

Although Gideon is not from the Ninth, she is given the Ninth name Nav when she arrives as a baby. Similarly, Jesus is known as Jesus of Nazareth, though that is not where he was born.

The Poor Bondservant

Jesus' role as a servant is emphasized many times in the bible. He was a carpenter's son born in a stable 

Philippians 2:5-8

Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross.

 Gideon is described as being made “a very small bondswoman” (GTN 24)

The Sword

Matthew 10:34

Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.

The Wretched Sinner

Harrow is wretched, self loathing, and cruel. 

She is in thrall of the enemy of god, a figure who was once gods most favoured warrior, cast into hell.

She is like the depiction of the sinner who loves the devil

It's important to note that Harrow isn’t a single person, she is a multitude, the entire future of her people condensed into one body. 

The Enemy of God

20 Then I saw an angel coming down from heaven, nholding in his hand the key to othe bottomless pit1 and a great chain. 2 And he seized pthe dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil and Satan, and qbound him for a thousand years, 3 and threw him into othe pit, and shut it and rsealed it over him, so that she might not deceive the nations any longer, until the thousand years were ended. After that he must be released for a little while.

Before the fall, Satan was described as a “guardian cherub” who resided in the garden with God (Ezekiel 28:14) 

(a funny aside, in the bible the devil is known as the great deceiver but in HTN Muir specifies that Alecto is incapable of lying)

A Life of Abuse 

Isaiah 53:3

"He was despised and rejected by mankind,

    a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.

Like one from whom people hide their faces

    he was despised, and we held him in low esteem”

They got up, drove him out of the town, and took him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff" (Luke 4:28–29).

Gideon lives a life of mockery and is abused by Harrow.

An Unlikely Savior

Despite the fact that Gideon does not fit the expected image of a Cavalier, Harrow chooses Gideon to be her sword and protector.

Despite the many openings Gideon has to make Harrow pay for the pain she caused her, she remains loyal to her

Trust

Harrow realizes that she cannot face the lyctor trials without Gideon, and places her trust in her

Christians are told they must place their trust in jesus in order to reach salvation

Purifying Water

Acts 2:38

Peter replied, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Harrow confesses her sins to Gideon and puts herself at her mercy

Gideon forgives Harrow totally and completely, she baptises her

One Flesh

Mark 10:8

and the two shall become one flesh; so they are no longer two, but one flesh.

“The imagery and symbolism of marriage is applied to Christ and the body of believers known as the church. The church is comprised of those who have trusted in Jesus Christ as their personal Savior and have received eternal life. Christ, the Bridegroom, has sacrificially and lovingly chosen the church to be His bride” (x)

Ephesians 5:25-26

25 gHusbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and hgave himself up for her, 26 that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by ithe washing of water jwith the word,

They take the vow of necro and cav, one flesh one end

Gideon’s forgiveness of Harrow is reaffirmed

Harrow risks her life to stay and fight with Gideon, even if it means her death and thus the destruction of her death. Her love for Gideon is now greater than her love for the Body.

The Sacrifice

John 19:34

Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus’ side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water.

They will look on the one they have pierced'" (John 19:36–37).

Gideon chooses to die for Harrow, death by piercing

and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

In order to complete the lyctor process, Harrow both physically and spiritually consumes Gideon

Because of Gideon’s sacrifice, Harrow attains eternal life at the right hand of god

The Tomb

The Resurrection

1On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women came to the tomb, bringing the spices they had prepared. 2 They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus

Harrow turns her body into a tomb for Gideon, a tomb fashioned after that on the Ninth

Resurrection on the Third Day

Thus it is written, and thus it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead the third day, and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in His name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. Luke 24:46-47 

“So many months had passed: and yet, at the same time, she had only lost Gideon Nav three days ago. It was the morning of the third day in a universe without her cavalier: it was the morning of the third day—and all the back of her brain could say, in exquisite agonies of amazement, was: She is dead. I will never see her again.” (HTN 374)

Just in case you missed this important piece of information, Muir repeats it three times.

Go, and tell them, then, that he that was dead is alive, and lives for evermore, and has the keys of death and the grave,"

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Small Time Witch (27)

A S G A R D

When you were a small child you attended a Christian nursery school until you were old enough to start kindergarten. One of your very earliest memories was how your teacher described heaven. She called it paradise where the weather was always warm and there were so many trees and mountains and sprawling landscapes. “In the middle,” she would say “is the Lord’s palace. It is so bright and shiny that you will almost be blinded by its majesty.” Perhaps the teacher had been a former resident of Asgard.

You stood at the foot of the Bifrost bridge where Heimdall greeted you. In the distance was the palace glistening like a jewel amongst the stone statues and mountains. The water beneath the bridge looked like it was made of glass it was so still and blue. If you didn’t know better you would have believed you were walking into Oz.

Heimdall stood next to you staring into the horizon with his gold eyes glinting in the sun. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“Yeah” was all you could manage.

“Welcome to Asgard, Princess.” You were startled back into reality.

“I’m not a princess. Please call me Y/N.”

“Your marriage to the Prince is recognized by the throne. It would be improper of me to call you by your name. The Allfather is expecting you.” He directed you into the care of two palace guards who freaking bowed to you. They loaded you into a small craft that zipped you to the palace.

Thor was waiting for you at the door. He introduced himself extending his hand. You reminded him that you were family and you hug. “It’s weird, Thor, because in another life I know you. We’re very close and get into all sorts of trouble together. Usually alcohol is involved.”

He laughed and drew you into his Vice grip. “You remind me of my mother. That may serve you well today.”

“I hope so. The only Odin stories I ever hear are of him being super gruff. He was even a little mean to Jane. Who can be mean to Jane Foster? Sweetest person ever.”

“You know of my Jane?”

“Of course. We’re very good friends. When you’re in town you two usually stay with us. It’s nice.” You didn’t have the heart to tell him that Jane passed away due to complications from cancer. Bruce thought the Aether likely mutated her cells and her body didn’t handle it well. Knowing that you were friends with Jane put a little smile on his face so you chose to keep it to yourself.

When you approached Odin you bowed. He peered down at you from his throne. He looked older than you thought he would. The guy was ancient. You supposed he shouldn’t look young. He looked more frail than anything.

He stood up and walked down the steps to be closer to you. “So this is the Midgardian witch who captured my son’s heart? You are very impressive, young lady. I’ve heard of your talents. Let’s leave this room and retire to my chambers. We’ll have more privacy.” He offered his arm which you took. Thor followed behind. “Please, sit. Now, what can I do for you?”

“Right down to business. Ok. Your highness, I am here to negotiate the terms of Loki’s sentence. The King and small council of Vanaheim have offered to keep Loki in the palace, with your consent of course. In exchange, they will keep me in the Temple of the Vanir to learn their ways. Also, my powers allow me to absorb the energy of the infinity stones. There is a Titan searching for the stones, sir. In my time, he destroyed Asgard and Xandar looking for them. If I can possess even two of them, I can stop him before he lays waist to the Nine.”

He did not say anything for several minutes. You were terrified. Finally, “The Vanir intend to weaponize you. Is that what I’m understanding?”

“I suppose that would imply that they have some sort of control over me. I will not be a weapon against another realm.”

“And if they use Loki as leverage, what choice would you have?”

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t have a tone in your voice. “With all due respect, Allfather, they wouldn’t have the strength to fight me. I know how this sounds. It is dangerous and there is no guarantee I’ll succeed. I have to try.”

“Thor? What do you think? Another one of Loki’s tricks?”

You started to panic. Thor’s brow was knitted together. He was skeptical of the whole plan.

“Please. Don’t you have your own prophet? How can I prove to you that I’m not tricking you? What can I do?”

“Thor, call in Freyr. Let’s see if he can make sense of this.”

When Freyr saw you his face lit up. “Princess! How lovely to see you again. May I have a moment alone with the girl?”

The two men left the room. “You remember meeting me?” Your voice was trembling.

“Of course! Are you still so naive to think time is linear? This, my dear, is your destiny. The Norns give you the illusion of free will when really all of this was predetermined. You are here because you are meant to fight this war.”

“And Loki?”

He patted you on the head, “He’ll come around.”

When Odin and Thor came back in Freyr did most of the talking. Odin agreed to come with you to Vanaheim to meet with the king and investigate this threat. That was all you could ask for.

He invited you to stay for a couple of days to get acquainted with your new home. It wasn’t a request that much you knew. Thor was happy to show you around. He brought you to your chambers which were near Frigga’s. He showed you her gardens and told you to feel free to explore. There were some sheers on a small table. You slipped them in your pocket so you could take some clippings. She had everything you could possibly need to preform a spell. Literally any spell you could think of.

Thor followed you listening to you speak about the flowers and herbs that grew wild there. The more you spoke the more he understood why Loki chose you. You were so like their mother but with a jagged edge. Poised and gentle but you would definitely cut a bitch without a second thought.

Once you sat down for lunch he worked up the courage to ask about his brother.

“Y/N, can you tell me why my brother did this? Why Midgard specifically?”

You put down your fork and looked him directly in the eyes, “I think you know the answer to that question. Because you loved Earth. Because Earth loved you. You found Jane. He was jealous and angry and took it out on you. But it took him years to admit that he was really so deeply hurt by Odin’s admission.”

“But why not fight me directly? The people on Midgard were innocent.” He was beginning to get angry. You had to remember this just happened so the wounds were still fresh.

“He did fight you directly in New Mexico. When he turned the Bifrost onto Jotunheim he effectively killed that part of himself. The part he thought monstrous. When he let go of Odin’s staff on the bridge, he thought he would either die or live on in exile somewhere. He was ready to leave it behind. But Thanos found him. First he seduced him with power and revenge then he tortured him into subjugation. For a whole year he tortured him. Then, during the attack, he was controlled by the mind stone and The Other could hear him. That’s why he didn’t relent when you said you would bring him home.”

Thor was quiet. You could see tears in his eyes. He had never thought of his brother as a monster. Even when the glory of Loki’s destruction rained down from the heavens, he still loved his brother. He thought back on how Loki looked when he saw him before Chitauri invaded. He looked sick and bruised. He was having trouble standing. The amount of force it would take to mark a god’s skin was beyond comprehension. And now, all he knew was that Loki was recovering on Vanaheim. He had no idea just how close to death Loki was.

When you returned to Vanaheim you went directly to the Temple of the Vanir. Thor went right to his brother. He was outwardly shocked by Loki’s appearance.

“Have you come to throw me in the dungeon?” Loki held Thor’s eyes to attempt to intimidate him. It wasn’t working. He winced as he tried to sit up straighter. Thor would not dare help him in fear of injuring his already fragile pride.

“No, brother. I’m here to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Then perhaps you’ll listen.” Loki looked away from him but raised his hand to signal him to carry on.

“If your quarrel was with me why not just fight me?”

“I wanted to prove to father that I can do something. He conquered realms. Why can’t I? That’s what kings do! It is my birthright!”

“Loki, I fear you and father are more alike than either of you care to admit. A king’s job is to unite the realms not to simply rule.”

Loki looked away in shame. “I would have been a good king. Both loved and feared. I would have built an empire.”

“And we all would have watched helpless as it consumed and destroyed you. Forget all of that. You have been given a second chance, brother. A chance with this woman who shares your spirit. Do not squander it lying about feeling sorry for yourself.”

Loki quirked his brow. He thought you had taken your one way trip back home after the way he treated you. Surely you weren’t still carrying on with your plan. The thing was no matter where you were on Vanaheim, he could feel you. Now he can’t. “She hasn’t gone?”

“No. She’s in the temple preparing for the stone. I’m going there myself. Why don’t you join me?”

“Funny. I can’t feel her.”

Thor gave him a weak smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Mother gave her free reign in her garden. No telling what manner of spell she conjured. I’m sure it’s for your own protection.”

You were a clever little witch. He would never say it aloud but he loved how quick you were. If you succeeded with the stones you two would be the most powerful couple in the known universe. You could probably dethrone Odin together. No army would be powerful enough to stop you. He stuck those thoughts into the back of his mind. You were uninterested in power in the way that Loki was. He could not understand your altruistic nature. All of this risk and for what? For people who didn’t know you existed. Though, if you didn’t care for others, he supposed you would have moved on by now and never given him a second chance. Perhaps now was the time to put such irrational things aside and support you.

——————————————————————

The Vanir worked quickly to construct a room strong enough to withstand a nuclear blast. You would have to crush the stone to release its full power. The only weapon strong enough for that was Mjölnir. If you were not worthy enough to wield it, Thor would have to be in the room with you. There was a real potential neither of you would make it out alive. First thing first, you had to lift the hammer.

The weight of Mjölnir would be of no concern if you were worthy. You stepped up to the handle and with effort you rocked it a little. Thor looked nervous. “You can do this, little sister.”

You took a deep breath, closed your eyes and on three you lifted again with an unburdened mind and a clear heart. The hammer was in your hands.

Gasps filled the room. No one dared utter a word. You let Mjölnir dangle from your wrist and made your way to Loki. “Lok, listen, if I don’t make it...”

“Shush, mortal. You will.”

You put your hand over his mouth, “If I don’t make it, please know that for one brief blissful moment, you were happy. We were happy. I love you.” He gripped your hand and opened his mouth to speak but you stopped him. “Don’t say it if it’s not true. Please.”

“Y/N, you will make it. I have faith in you.” You stared into each other’s eyes searchingly.

“You want to kiss me right now don’t you?”

He chuckled, “Desperately.”

You planted the softest most barely there kiss on his lips. He pulled you in to deepen the kiss. The tip of his tongue pressed against yours for just a second and then he released you. You pressed a knotted clipping of Yggdrasil into his palm and hung a tiny gold screw driver around his neck. When you walked away a gold bracelet adorned with emeralds dangled around your wrist. Around your left ring finger was a twin piece of knotted Yggdrasil. The screwdriver was warm to the touch and, if he listened closely, he swore he heard your heart beating.

You went into the room and slammed the metal shut and froze the lock. You held out your hand and forced the cube to crush with your magic. All that remained was the stone. This little blue stone that shined with the light of a million lightning strikes. It floated in the air. You circled it balancing Mjölnir on your shoulder. You plucked the blue candy button out of the air and placed it on the floor. As if it knew it was about to be set free, it released a high pitched whine. You raised the hammer into the air and with all of the force you could summon, you struck it. The room flooded with blue light so bright you couldn’t look directly at it. It sucked in its energy and then exploded outward sending shards of the jewel into your skin. It pushed you around the room like a pinball pinging you off of any surface it could find. You felt like your flesh was separating off of your bones and you were turning to liquid. All at once it went dark and dropped you to the ground.

——————————————————————

Loki paced the floor muttering to himself. Everyone else held their breathing straining to hear any sound. An utterance to let them know you’re alive. That’s when they heard the explosion. Blue light radiated from every exposed crack and nail hole. They heard your body careening off the walls and, with an unsettling thud, the room fell silent.

Loki rushed to the door trying to pry it open. The lock was jammed. Thor tried too but it wouldn’t budge. Njord yelled over their banging that the door was at least five inches thick. You wouldn’t hear them. He tried the key but it broke in the lock. Freyr used his seiðr to crush the door. When it fell away from it’s hinges, you emerged. Your hair had gone completely white and your eyes looked cloudy. You blinked a few times and they went back to normal.

You handed Thor his hammer and patted him on the shoulder. “Sister, speak to us. Are you well?”

You smiled and nodded. You took Loki’s hand in yours. Electricity crackled off of your fingertips. You smiled and opened a black void behind you for which to escape. In the blink of an eye you were on Asgard then Midgard then back to the temple. He laughed and clapped his hands, “You are a clever little witch aren’t you?”

“Princess...” Njord looked worried. You were unaware of your physical changes. You may have been a mutant but you were still a mortal. The stone could have severely injured you. “Your highness, please. We need to get you upstairs.”

“Relax, Njord. I’m perfectly fine. I feel amazing.” You were talking a mile a minute.

He kept insisting and you grew impatient. The more impatient you were the more your hands glowed and your eyes changed. “Njord, let’s give the Prince and Princess some space. She’ll come upstairs shortly.” Frigga ushered everyone out so you and Loki could sit in peace.

You couldn’t sit. Your skin felt too tight for your body. You needed to expel some energy. “Y/N, what’s going on in your head?”

“A million things. I’m wondering if I should go to south London right now since I know where the aether is. I’m wondering if the rest of my powers are amplified. I feel like I’m plugged into a massive battery, Lok. Maybe I can heal you quicker than Njord. Can I try?!”

He laughed and pulled you down into the chair next to him, “You’re like an excited puppy. Let’s go outside before you piddle on the floor. We can test your powers there.”

He lead you to an open space where you could work without fear of hurting someone. Your powers were indeed amplified. Your electricity was more like lightning. You grew a sapling into a knotted mature tree. You split yourself up into many clones and made it rain over the two of you. All of that should have tired you out but it did not. The last thing was to heal Loki. That was sure to drain you as broken as he was. You placed your hands on his solar plexus and went to work. Every ache and pain subsided every cut knitted itself back together. He felt reborn. You were settled.

You went back to the palace for dinner to talk strategy with Odin and the king. Since you and Loki were the only ones who ever faced Thanos, it was crucial that you were involved. You came to the conclusion that you needed numbers. You would divide the realms and enlist help even from the Dark Elves and Jötuns. You and Thor would go to Earth to speak with SWORD who handled all extra dimensional doings. Everyone agreed that Loki shouldn’t travel to Midgard just yet. You insisted the Avengers not be involved but, your X-men friends would be delighted to assist. At this point, they were more powerful anyway.

When you retired for the evening, Loki walked you back to your room. “May I ask you something?” His eyes were fixed on the floor he tried his hardest to sound confident. You lifted his chin so he would look at you. “Why couldn’t I sense you when you arrived? Why can’t I feel you now?”

“I guess I just wanted you to feel your own feelings for a change. I thought I might be overwhelming you.”

“I thought...” he laced his fingers in with yours, “I thought you were angry with me.”

“Oh I was. You’ve never raised your voice to me. It hurt. I didn’t want you to know how much.”

He didn’t know how much he missed you in the short time you were gone. He missed you right now and you were standing right in front of him. He kissed you on the corner of your mouth, “I’m sorry to have raised my voice. I’m sorry I’m hurting you. I wish I could love you as you love me. I am trying, Pet.”

“Lok, you can’t fall in love with someone in such a short period. We have time.” You kissed him gently and slipped into your room.

He stayed outside of your chambers for a while with his head pressed against the door. Love was not something he gave freely. He wished things were different. He wished his future self never helped Thor. He wished he would know the happiness you spoke of. One day he would. For now he would keep on disappointing you.

——————————————————————

The next morning you woke up and surveyed the clothing you were gifted. Nothing screamed Midgard 2012 to you. You waved your hand over your body and came up with something more south London and less Stratford Upon Avon. Satisfied with your look you set out to Loki’s chambers.

You knocked but he didn’t answer. Once more and a giggling flustered chamber maid opened. She straitened up when she saw your face and readjusted her apron straps. “Princess!” she yelped. “Apologies. Prince Loki should be along shortly.”

“You know what? Tell him don’t bother.”

She called after you but you didn’t turn around. You kept your spine straight and let your head high. Your heels clacked loudly as you stomped through the halls with a walk that would make Naomi Campbell proud.

Thor was coming out of his room and smiled when he saw you, “Good morning, sister! You’re looking well.”

“Are you ready to go? I don’t think it’s wise for Loki to show his face on earth.”

Thor was pretty daft when it came to the whims of the fairer sex but your face was speaking loud and clear. You held his hand and landed in a warehouse in London. You searched high and low but struck out.

“What exactly are we looking for?”

“A void filled with a red mist.”

“And you are certain it’s here?”

“This is where Jane found it, yes.”

“Is this around the time she found it. Maybe it’s not here yet.”

“No, it’s here. I can feel it. I just have to ah! It’s here.”

He swung Mjölnir and the wall crumbled. You stuck your hand in and he grabbed you.

“Wait. Is this wise? I feel like one of the Vanir should be with you or at least Loki. If anything goes wrong I won’t know how to help you.”

“Your brother is more interested in his chamber maids than saving the universe. If anything goes wrong, call for Heimdall.”

“Did you catch him with someone else? It’s very common in royal marriages...”

The Aether called to you and effectively drowned him out. While he prattled on you put your arm through the wall and let it take you. It meshed with the space stone because they were meant to be together. Their energies lifted you up off the ground and light poured out your eyes mouth and fingers. You collapsed back down where Thor caught you. He shook you but you were unable to focus. You put your fingers to your mouth and pulled away with crimson soaked tips. Thor scooped you into his arms cursing you and then raised Mjölnir to call Heimdall. Just then you stopped him.

“No. No, I’m fine. Don’t call him.”

“But, sister.”

“No. Put me down.” He did as he was told and carefully set you on your feet. You smoothed your hair and fixed your clothes. With a flourish all of the blood vanished.

“Come on. Let’s go see Jane.”

“You are out of your mind. I have to get you back to Njord.”

“Nonsense. I have to see Dr. Selvig to fix what my darling husband broke. And you, brother, need to see Jane. You miss her. I want you to be happy. She needs to be happy. Just take her to lunch.”

He agreed but insisted you take more traditional transportation rather than using your powers. You found the nearest train station and took the tube to Jane’s office. This Jane was a lot less together than the Jane you knew. She was so stunned to see Thor at her door that she could barely speak.

You introduced yourself as Loki’s wife but assured her your marriage was less gothic romance and more Charles and Di. A reference that Thor didn’t understand but Jane did perfectly. She brought you to Dr. Selvig who was speaking nonsensically. He seemed to recognize you right away. Though you had not yet met he knew the energy that was inside you. You placed your hands on either side of his head and pulled the power of the space stone out of him. He was weak but thinking for himself.

You practically pushed the happy couple out of the door to have lunch on you. You conjured a credit card an an id for Thor. You said you had business to attend to.

Darcy offered to give you a ride which you happily accepted. Had her drop you in front of Claridge's, a very posh hotel in Hyde Park, where you intended to relax and partake in retail therapy. Magically their best room was available for the evening. You held your breath when they ran your card. You had no idea if it would work. Luckily it did. The porter showed you to your room. You asked for a bottle of single malt and a glass to be left in the seating area. You kicked off your shoes and started to unbutton your blouse when you heard a man clear his throat.

You had not immediately seen Mobius M. Mobius when you entered. Funny, neither did the porter. Electricity crackled in your fingers and, as you raised them to strike, he walked toward you. “Holster those weapons, Mrs. Laufeyson. Or is it Odinson? Either way. I’m not here to hurt you. Just to talk.”

“Do you drink scotch?”

[mychemicalxmen]

Unfinished Business

hey so I find crt’s recent interactions with the tua fandom to be sus as hell and it got me thinking about the most plausible way I could see him comin back in s3 and the conclusion I came to is a way-shorter and way-simpler version of whatever the hell this is so uhhhh here

2.9k, klave/klave-adjacent

... ... ...

“Is this really a good idea?”

Allison’s words are gentle as she stands in the doorway of Klaus’s room. Well, not his room, per se, but the grey-walled, undecorated space that would’ve been his bedroom in a timeline gone by. The Sparrow Academy doesn’t seem to be a huge fan of homey-ness. They’d ever-so-kindly granted the Umbrellas two nights’ stay in these cold cells while they gathered their bearings and prepared to face the new world they’d fantastically screwed up.

Klaus smiles at her question. “That’s hardly stopped me before, right?”

Allison rolls her eyes and drops her hands onto her hips. “I’m worried about you, okay?”

“Don’t be,” Klaus answers with a swatting gesture. “It’s been easy-peasy since I’ve dropped the pills. Parlor tricks. Did this song and dance tons of times for Madame.”

“Also, we need to unpack your relationship to ‘Madame’ at your earliest convenience.”

Klaus raises an eyebrow mischievously. “What happens in Dallas...!”

Allison sighs. “Okay, well, if things start to get, y’know, mega-spooky panic-time, you’ll just yell, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“Hey.” Allison’s voice is suddenly calmer. Klaus’s gaze snaps up to meet hers. “You’re sure about this?”

Klaus lets himself breathe for a moment. Tension fights to seize his limbs. He’s really about to do it.

His first six months of sobriety were the absolute nightmare that he knew they would be. They were all the sleepless nights, trembling hands, emotional eruptions, and torturous visions that he’d predicted.

But at some point, his powers became less like a stubborn faucet, run by an on/off switch with not much in between. With time (and Ben’s encouragement), he’d come to better understand his link to the other side. He’d learned how to cut and re-engage the connection at will, how to find faces in the crowd, how to call one forth, and how to sleep peacefully.

Most nights.

“I’m sure,” he says solidly.

He checks himself over, tugging his brightly striped shirt into place, tucking in his dog tag, and running a hand through the hair he’d half-considered chopping off the second he made it home. When he looks back up at Allison, he‘s feeling a bit less brave. “Do I look alright?”

Allison nods with a little grin. “You look great.” God, he wishes they’d reconnected far before this Dallas fiasco. She just cares so much. “Good luck,” she says.

“Love you, sis.” He blows her a lazy kiss as she leaves and closes the door behind her.

He paces around the room, steeling himself for the process. Like he said, it’s no big deal. Easy peasy. Even with that hiccup with alcohol, he’s clean enough to pull it off. He shakes out the last of his nerves with a couple tiny hops before settling in the middle of the room.

He stands firmly, feet apart, and drops his head. He squeezes his fists and lets the energy start to crackle between his fingers.

With all the insanity of this timeline, he needs to know what happened in 1968. He needs to see Dave.

It’s tougher to contact someone not already in the room. He focuses everything he has, and the energy pulses faster and stronger. Come on, come on…

“Klaus?”

He looks up with a start.

There he is, standing four feet in front of him. Those torn-up fatigues. Those searching blue eyes. That curly mess of blonde hair he hasn’t seen for three years.

Dave.

Klaus can’t keep the dumb smile off of his face.

“Hey there, soldier,” he practically whispers.

“Hey yourself,” Dave says - happy, though clearly disoriented. “Guess you weren’t making up all that ‘future’ junk after all.”

Klaus’s affirmative laugh is airy. But when his eyes trail down to the cavity in Dave’s chest, his heart aches in regret.

His jaw aches too. What a week it’s been.

“I have... so much to ask you,” Dave goes on. “It’s been a long time.”

Klaus swallows. Here goes. The million dollar question.

“Uh… How long of a time, exactly?”

He unconsciously holds his breath.

Dave glances to the side. “...Right around when JFK was shot. Must’ve been ‘63?”

Klaus exhales and sits on the bed, face blank.

Dave is wincing at his own memories. “God, I was such a dumb kid, I’m so sorry that you—”

Klaus isn’t hearing him. He’s too caught up on that number. 63.

If the Umbrella Academy doesn’t exist, Klaus Hargreeves doesn’t grow up in the same home as Five Hargreeves. He doesn’t get kidnapped by assassins. He doesn’t get his hands on a briefcase. He doesn’t go to Vietnam.

If the Umbrella Academy doesn’t exist, neither does the Dave that fell in love with him.

His Dave is gone. Really gone. 

This Dave was the timid hardware store employee he’d tried to get through to, striving to save his life and instead locking in his fate a few days early. This Dave is still the same person as the other one was. Same upbringing, same interests, same compassion, same smile, same violent death. But...

“—a strange time for anyone. You know how it is.”

Klaus tunes back in to Dave apologizing for his cringey adolescence. “No, no, yeah, I get it, don’t worry about it.”

In the pause that follows, Klaus feels his throat tighten and hot tears threaten to drop down his face.

Within the same pause, Klaus realizes the obvious. Dave is a ghost.

Kiddos and grandmas, or anyone who’s achieved either nothing or everything that their life had to offer them, they get the window to move on right away. One-way ticket to the Great Beyond, or the next life, or whatever the hell it is. Ultimate FastPass, Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200. Klaus has learned that spirits don’t tend to stick around on earth unless they have unfinished business. Sometimes they don’t even know what they need to do to start fresh, and that’s always the worst. Those souls become the bitterest, the loudest, the most tortured. Those were the ones who gave him hell in the mausoleum, with question after question that he couldn’t even begin to answer.

Dave seems to have managed okay. Probably spends a lot of time watching over his friends, his sisters, his neighbor’s cat. Klaus wonders what he could possibly have left to do.

“Major case of unfinished business you got there, huh?” Klaus asks. “Been waiting around, what, fifty years?”

Dave squints. “Well, it’s hard to feel it. Time works a little funny over here.”

“Right, of course it does,” Klaus recalls stupidly. He sniffles and swipes a hand under his eye as nonchalantly as he can. “Ah. Any idea what the little brat is waiting for you to do?”

Dave gives a tentative chuckle. “Brat?”

“Oh, Big G, the almighty, you know,” Klaus clarifies. “The bitch on the bike. I met Her once or twice. We’re not too chummy.”

Dave shows startlement, then shakes his head, acknowledging that this information should hardly faze him at this point. “Um. Yeah. Don’t know what She wants yet. Though She’s actually a cowgirl for me.”

“Of course She is.” 

And that’s the idiotic comment that causes Klaus’s voice to crack.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dave asks. He hazards a few steps closer.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

“No... Nothing,” Klaus stammers. He briefly covers his face and lets out a groan. “Ughhh, it’s going to sound crazy.”

“Really think you can beat ‘Time-Traveling Cult Leader with Prophetic Dog Tags and Tidings of Death’?”

“It wasn’t a cult,” Klaus mumbles in futility. He drops his hands and gives it his best shot. “The first time I met you - first time I met Dave - was in a totally different timeline, in 1968. That’s how I knew all that stuff about you. And you died the same way, except I was there the first time. The other time. The same time?”

“You and ...’Other Dave’.... fought together,” Dave offers.

“Yes!” Klaus confirms, relieved that he’s making sense. “Yeah, exactly. Which is why I tried to stop him - you - from going.” He indicates Dave’s abdomen. “And, obviously, I failed. But because of some stuff my family screwed up along the way, you never fought with me, so I remember a lot more than you do, and it’s all just...” He gestures helplessly. “A real kick in the dick.”

Dave tilts his head in a mix of sympathy and confusion. “That... does sound pretty crap.”

Klaus doesn’t expect it when Dave sits next to him on his bed.

“You want to tell me what I missed?”

“Oh, no, no, no, Dave, you don’t want that. That’s a long story.”

Dave shrugs. “I’ve got some time to kill.”

Klaus manages a smile. Talking will keep him from crying.

He tries his best to tell everything chronologically, but almost every step of the beginning requires some Hargreeves Family Lore that he reluctantly recaps as efficiently as possible. Dave is an exceptional listener. Always has been. He lets Klaus ramble on and on and asks little questions now and again to get a clearer picture. Klaus appreciates Dave’s effort to form a coherent narrative out of the scattered snapshots that time has left him with.

Klaus stumbles with pronouns. He makes a point to refer to His Dave with “him” as opposed to “you”, but he can’t help but slip a few times in the middle. Dave seems to understand.

Klaus tells him about the day they met. He waters down the Time Police part of the tale and focuses on what came after. Dropping into the tent at dawn. The casual conversation on the bus. The strange instinct that he got to stick around for a few days.

He tells him about soldiering. He tells Dave how focused and respected he looked on the battlefield. But he also tells him how kind he was to new recruits.

He tells him about their first R&R together in Saigon. He tells him about the vibrant bar and the strangest music and the secluded back hallway.

He tells him about the nights in the jungle they’d stayed up and dreamed up plans for when they’d go home together. He tells him about the day those plans fell apart. When Klaus runs out of story to tell, he just stops. Dave looks at him thoughtfully. Klaus can only imagine what must be running through his head. He knows it’s not judgement, or embarrassment, or anger, or loathing. Dave is too sweet for any of that.

Dave is too good for the rotten fortune that found him, time and time again.

“I’m sorry,” Klaus says.

“For what?”

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t save him,” Klaus answers. He fumbles again. “You. Him? Young Dave?”

“I’m getting a headache keeping track of it myself,” Dave admits.

“You,” Klaus settles on. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Dave looks into him for a breath. Then, he reaches out and touches his arm. Klaus wants to dissolve into dust.

“I think I understand why I loved you,” Dave says.

A bittersweet laugh tumbles ungracefully from Klaus’s mouth. He tries not to draw attention to the new round of tears that spills over with it. “You do?”

“Yeah. I do.” Dave gives him the gentlest smile. “You shouldn’t be sorry. You tried so hard. I could’ve had more courage, fought back, ran away, something, but I just... wasn’t ready.” He glances down. “And I wasn’t going to be.”

Klaus’s hand closes over Dave’s on his arm.

“But I always remembered you,” Dave adds. “I always thought you were brave.”

“Goddamn, I was convinced I’d pushed your Big Awakening back a good two months, at least.”

“Far from,” Dave assures. His eyes crinkle with the flash of a memory. “I’m... not sure if I should tell you this.”

Klaus cocked his head. “Well, shit, Davey, now you have to.”

“I’m assuming Other Me told you something about Bill, right? Met in junior year, moved to Austin after school, always a bit of suspicion there...”

“Yeah?”

Dave’s face reddens slightly. “I mean, it wasn’t anything serious, but there were a few weeks when I was home, before this last tour...”

Klaus’s eyes widen. This was not an event on his timeline. He mocks outrage and pushes Dave’s hand away. “David Joseph Katz—!”

“The point is,” Dave poorly stifles a laugh, “I had hope. That it was gonna be alright, and that after this round, I’d be back in America for good, and I’d find my place.”

Hope.

Klaus supposes hope is nice. It’s just not terribly helpful with the way things panned out. In the world where Dave still didn’t make it home. In the world where he’s stuck here, waiting for a way to move on. In the world where he’s still around to see how little good that hope did him. And frustration starts to churn Klaus’s stomach, even though he knows...

“...This really wasn’t your fault,” Dave says, reading him just as perfectly as he could in ‘68.

Klaus hadn’t noticed how long he’d fallen silent for. “I know,” he mumbles, and logically, he does. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. There had to be a timeline out there where everything ended up alright, where him and Dave lived happily together just like they’d talked about, but he is never going to find it now.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “And I still love him. Christ, he made one of the deadliest shitshows in American history the only place I wanted to be. He made me the happiest that I’ve been in a long, long time. He made me feel so treasured. So... strong.”

When the tears return a third time, he stops trying to hide them. He carelessly wipes the heel of his palm across his cheek.

“I wanted to tell him all that,” he finishes. “He gave me something so special that I don’t think I’ll get again.”

A sob escapes Klaus. Dave patiently waits for him to work it out.

“I know I’m not him,” Dave starts, “But for what it’s worth, I think he’d know you still love him. I think it’d destroy him to be apart from you. But I don’t think he’d want you to destroy yourself.”

Klaus knows the spiel that’s coming, and so badly does he want to dismiss it all as disgusting cliche. But he also knows Dave’s sappy tendencies well enough to know that, in this case, it’s probably accurate. Hell, he’s hearing it from the man himself.

“If you couldn’t get back to him, I think he’d just want to know you were happy,” Dave says. “You know? That you kept moving and kept taking care of yourself. And kept looking for the kind of love you deserve.”

Dave shifts to face him more directly. His eyes are bright with intention. “You have so much life left in you. You deserve a new chapter.”

Klaus feels beaten and weary all over. His mind is finally slowing down to the present.

When Dave subtly opens up his arms, he eagerly takes the offer to wrap him in an embrace.

This is the last he’ll see of him. He can feel it. He tucks his chin over Dave’s shoulder and clings onto the fabric of his vest, eyes shut, trying to commit every sensation to memory.

Dave returns, lightly weaving his hand into Klaus’s hair. Klaus recalls with a weak grin that he knew Dave would be fond of the new length.

It’s safe and sacred and almost everything that he’d planned for on that day he’d desperately wandered the mansion halls, calling out for any help he could get, twisting a bundle of rope in his quaking hands.

He hears a whisper of a wind chime.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” Dave mutters.

The blue glow pierces through Klaus’s eyelids. He pulls back to look at Dave.

He’s crumbling apart, piece by piece, and drifting away. Bright light speckles the entire room.

“Klaus?” Dave asks. His voice is soft but threaded with slight fear. “Is this...?”

“Yeah, it is,” he answers. He tightens his grip on Dave’s arms. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me say goodbye.”

A beat passes. Then, understanding washes over Dave’s face. He pulls Klaus close once again, stroking his hair.

He presses a kiss onto Klaus’s forehead.

Klaus doesn’t watch him go. He only opens his eyes when his arms are at last empty.

Specks of glittering blue light still float through the air. Nothing else remains but the wrinkle on the bedspread where he was sitting. Klaus’s face still feels warm where his lips were placed just moments ago.

Klaus buries his head in his hands. “Allison,” He calls out. The sound is pathetic. He clears his throat and tries again. “Allie?”

He hears her heeled boots click down the hall. He can’t bring himself to look up when she opens the door. “You okay?”

“It’s over,” he summarizes.

“What do you need?”

A joint. A fist full of pills. Five shots of tequila. A good sock in the head so he can go back to that pre-Technicolor hellscape and tell that bitch on the bike what he really thinks of Her.

“Can you just sit with me for a minute, please?”

Allison closes the door and obliges.

They talk, slowly and softly, about absolutely nothing at all, while Allison smooths her hand against Klaus’s back. They stare at the cold tile floors together for a long time. Klaus asks if it would kill the Sparrows to hire an interior decorator.

[mrlnsfrt]

Mercy on Your Enemies

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you. - Matthew 5:10-12 NKJV

Jesus told His followers that those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake are blessed. It is important to highlight here that the blessings stand only when you are innocent, when you are being persecuted for being righteous, for being faithful to God. If you are persecuted for doing something wrong, for cheating, for being dishonest, for being abusive, then there is no blessing. But this text also points to a reality that God’s faithful followers face in this world. We live in a world where someone can be persecuted without ever doing anything wrong. Jesus goes so far as to say that you can be persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for being good, and honest, and well, righteous. Jesus promised a special blessing, but that does not mean that you feel blessed as you are being persecuted.

David composed two Psalms from a cave while being persecuted by Saul (at least there are two I was able to find). They are Psalm 57, and Psalm 142. In these Psalms we can tell David is not feeling particularly blessed.

Attend to my cry, For I am brought very low; Deliver me from my persecutors, For they are stronger than I. - Psalm 142:6 NKJV

But David never forgot about the Source of his life and salvation,

I cried out to You, O Lord: I said, “You are my refuge, My portion in the land of the living. - Psalm 142:5 NKJV

So it is possible for us to be persecuted, to feel distant from God, and like we will be destroyed by our enemies. Yet we should never forget that reality is not limited by what we can see nor by what we feel. This is where faith comes in, and we can know that even though it might look and feel like we are all alone and about to be destroyed by our enemies, God is with us, and ultimately it is our enemies who need mercy.

Personal Story

I remember when I was young there was a big commotion at the apartment where my grandparents lived. I was young and I do not remember all the details, I do remember my mother and grandmother and other family members being very agitated. My grandfather had been robbed. I do not remember if it was a gunpoint or knifepoint, but he was robbed. I believe he had been on his way to the bank to deposit some money. My mother and others were upset about the whole incident and insisted that he press charges with the police, and there was a lot of talking and crying and I don’t remember all the details. But one thing has stuck with me, my grandfather wanted to pray, and as we prayed he thanked God that his life had been spared, next, he thanked God that he had not been the robber.

That is something that always stuck with me. I expected him to pray more of an imprecatory prayer, calling for God to curse the men who had taken his money. I do not think that my grandfather was against justice and the proper punishment of the men who did wrong, but my grandfather understood that it was better to be an innocent victim than a criminal. My grandfather knew that he was saved, he had a personal relationship with Jesus. But those criminals were living a life of sin and causing terrible suffering to others. Anyone living a life of sin does not have the peace that only God can give (John 14:27) and need salvation. Without God, there is no true joy and no eternal life.

Saul Persecutes David

Saul returned from pursuing the Philistines and was told that David was in the Desert of En Gedi. Saul decides to take three thousand of his best men from all of Israel and went to look for David and his men near the Crags of the Wild Goats. As King Saul searched for David he came by some sheep pens and a cave. This was exactly what Saul was hoping to find. He had been needed to relieve himself and needed some privacy. I imagine Saul telling his men to sit and rest for a bit, and then going away by himself to the cave to take care of his needs.

The King James Version says that “Saul went in to cover his feet” (1 Samuel 24:3), which is a literal translation. "This Hebrew idiom refers to the Israelite practice of disposing of human excrement in a sanitary manner through covering it over with dirt." (Bergen, R. D. (2002). 1, 2 Samuel. Nashville, TN: Broadman & Holman. p238 (footnote)). Little did he know, David and his men were inside that same cave farther towards the back of the cave.

An Unexpected Opportunity

Then the men of David said to him, “This is the day of which the Lord said to you, ‘Behold, I will deliver your enemy into your hand, that you may do to him as it seems good to you.’ ” And David arose and secretly cut off a corner of Saul’s robe. - 1 Samuel 24:4 NKJV

Saul coming in by himself to the cave where David and all his men were hiding was clearly an act of God. David’s soldiers interpreted it as such, and even mentioned a prophecy that is not mentioned anywhere else in the Bible. This is a mystery, was it an unrecorded prophecy, or just wishful thinking. I have heard many supposed Bible quotes that are nowhere to be found in the Bible. It is surprising and dangerous how we can believe so strongly that Bible says something that in fact it does not. (Side note: one text that often gets misquoted is that Paul supposedly says that “to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord” but the Bible does not say this anywhere, you can read several translations of 2 Corinthians 5:8 here)

What the soldiers say sounds biblical, but it is not recorded in the Bible, at least I was not able to find a record of this being written anywhere else.

Seizing the Moment

David stealthily approaches Saul and cuts off a corner of Saul’s robe. There are those who assign great significance to this act. Some believe that this symbolically transferred power from Saul to David. Support for this is found when you take into consideration the Torah requirements that include Numbers 15:38-39, and Deuteronomy 22:12 which require the wearing of tassels on the corners of one’s garments. The reasoning goes that without the corner and its tassel Saul’s most obvious symbol of kingship was made unwearable. Personally believe that it is a bit of a stretch to say that with this act David had symbolically invalidated Saul’s claim to kingship, but it is a view that Bergen mentions. (Bergen, R. D. (2002). 1, 2 Samuel. Nashville, TN: Broadman & Holman. p239)

V. H. Matthews adds a significant historical and cultural insight to the interpretation of this passage saying that

The rather elaborate hems with suspended tassels found on most garments in the ancient Near East symbolized the ranks of kings and their advisers as well as the military. - Manners and Customs in the Bible [Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1988], 119).

The strongest evidence that I see for the symbolic significance of what David did is the remorse David feels for his behavior. David realized he had raised his hand against “the anointed of the LORD.”

Vengeance

Dear friends, never take revenge. Leave that to the righteous anger of God. For the Scriptures say, “I will take revenge; I will pay them back,” says the LORD. - Romans 12:19 NLT

‘Vengeance is Mine, and retribution, In due time their foot will slip; For the day of their disaster is at hand, And their doom hurries to meet them.’ - Deuteronomy 32:35 Amplified Bible

David does not want to be the one who causes Saul to fall, he does not want to cause the fall of someone the LORD had anointed.

And he said to his men, “The Lord forbid that I should do this thing to my master, the Lord’s anointed, to stretch out my hand against him, seeing he is the anointed of the Lord.” So David restrained his servants with these words, and did not allow them to rise against Saul. And Saul got up from the cave and went on his way. - 1 Samuel 24:6-7 NKJV

David is not saying that Saul deserves to be king, nor that Saul is guiltless. David simply does not want to be guilty of spilling Saul’s blood. David chooses to leave judgment to God, even if he had the perfect opportunity to take his revenge. Even if it looks like God has delivered his enemy in his hands, David will not be the direct cause of the fall of his enemy. David refuses to spill the blood of his enemy, even if his enemy would not hesitate to spill his blood. David behaves in this way out of respect for God. It is nothing that Saul did, David is not afraid of Saul, but David respects God and God’s anointed.

The Confrontation

The interchange that follows is remarkable. The section of text stretching from verse 8 through 21 contains the longest recorded quotes by both David and Saul found in 1 Samuel. (Bergen, R. D. p239) The amount of space dedicated to this exchange suggests high importance. This seems to be the central part of the text and two key themes surface in this exchange.

David is loyal to King Saul.

David will be Israel’s next king.

As Saul makes his way out of the cave David calls out to him. This was a risky move since in doing so David would give away his position to King Saul. However, it seems that David was closer to Saul than Saul was to his army, so worst-case scenario David could always capture Saul and hold him hostage.

David also arose afterward, went out of the cave, and called out to Saul, saying, “My lord the king!” And when Saul looked behind him, David stooped with his face to the earth, and bowed down. - 1 Samuel 24:8 NKJV

David addresses Saul as lord and king and bows down. David is signaling his loyalty to the king, and next, we have what can be considered the most passionate and eloquent plea for reconciliation between persons recorded in all ancient literature. (Bergen, R. D. p240)

David carefully structures his arguments in a way to give Saul an easy out.

And David said to Saul: “Why do you listen to the words of men who say, ‘Indeed David seeks your harm’? - 1 Samuel 24:9 NKJV

David does not blame Saul for coming after him, but rather some unknown, misinformed individual who lied to Saul. David proceeds to lay out eyewitness and material evidence to make the case that he is not the king’s enemy.

Look, this day your eyes have seen that the Lord delivered you today into my hand in the cave, and someone urged me to kill you. But my eye spared you, and I said, ‘I will not stretch out my hand against my lord, for he is the Lord’s anointed.’ Moreover, my father, see! Yes, see the corner of your robe in my hand! For in that I cut off the corner of your robe, and did not kill you, know and see that there is neither evil nor rebellion in my hand, and I have not sinned against you. Yet you hunt my life to take it. Let the Lord judge between you and me, and let the Lord avenge me on you. But my hand shall not be against you. - 1 Samuel 24:10-12 NKJV

David points out how Saul had seen with his own eyes that David could have killed him but refused to raise his hand against the Lord’s anointed. Saul was the key witness, he knew that the Lord had delivered him to David and David has spared his life. Saul’s life was spared to because of anything Saul had done but rather because of what God had done. God has anointed Saul and David’s regard for God kept him from harming His anointed.

If Saul had any doubts about how close he came to dying at David’s hand all he had to do was take a look at his garment and notice the missing corner. David has shown by his actions that he was not an evildoer, since he refrained from evil (Matthew 7:16,20). In other words, if Davids had truly wanted to take the kingdom from Saul he would not have refrained from killing him when he had the chance.

However, if David is innocent, and it was just proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that David was loyal to Saul, then Saul was guilty of trying to kill an innocent and just man. By pointing this out David is trying to keep King Saul from bringing divine wrath and judgment upon himself.

Keep far from a false charge, and do not kill the innocent and righteous, for I will not acquit the wicked. - Exodus 23:7 ESV

David now keeps going and accuses the king of squandering precious national resources.

After whom has the king of Israel come out? Whom do you pursue? A dead dog? A flea? - 1 Samuel 24:14 NKJV

David concludes by calling upon God to judge between them. It is obvious that David is innocent and that God is with David. Saul is not only unable to defeat David but to continue to pursue this will only lead to his own destruction.

The Realization

So it was, when David had finished speaking these words to Saul, that Saul said, “Is this your voice, my son David?” And Saul lifted up his voice and wept. - 1 Samuel 24:16 NKJV

Saul is forced to confront reality. He finally says David’s name, something he has not done in a very long time (1 Samuel 20:27, 30-31; 22:7-9, 13). Not only does Saul say David’s name, but he also calls him his son. The full emotional weight of current events finally hit Saul and he wept out loud.

Then he said to David: “You are more righteous than I; for you have rewarded me with good, whereas I have rewarded you with evil. And you have shown this day how you have dealt well with me; for when the Lord delivered me into your hand, you did not kill me. For if a man finds his enemy, will he let him get away safely? Therefore may the Lord reward you with good for what you have done to me this day. And now I know indeed that you shall surely be king, and that the kingdom of Israel shall be established in your hand. Therefore swear now to me by the Lord that you will not cut off my descendants after me, and that you will not destroy my name from my father’s house.” - 1 Samuel 24:17-21 NKJV

Saul realizes and admits that David will be the next king and that Israel will flourish under his leadership. Realizing that David is a righteous man Saul asks David to spare his descendants. David swears to Saul and they go each their separate way. Saul goes home, but David goes up to the stronghold.

Conclusion and Application

David is not king, David does not have three thousand soldiers at his disposal, much less three thousand chosen men from all Israel. Humanly speaking, Saul had all the advantages. He had position, title, resources, power, experience, he was tall, what else cold Saul need? Sadly he did not have what matters most, or the only thing that matters, Saul did not have a personal relationship with God.

David on the other hand was a fugitive, an outcast, on the run, living in the wilderness, with a group of disgruntled men who decided to follow him (1Samuel 22:1-2). But God was with him and that made all the difference.

Please notice this, the king without God has no chance against a “nobody” who is on God’s side. David was the one who had to have mercy on the king, not the other way around. David is the powerful one, not because he has any special power, but because Almighty God is with Him.

You may feel persecuted, though you did nothing wrong. You may feel like your faithfulness to God makes you a target, but remember, that having God is ultimately all that matters, the only thing that matters. Whatever may come your way, just make sure to stay with God and everything will be okay.

Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.” - Deuteronomy 31:6 NKJV

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

24th November >> Mass Readings (USA)

Saints Andrew Dũng-Lạc and his Companions, Martyrs

    on 

Tuesday, Thirty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time.

Tuesday, Thirty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the feria (Tuesday))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Tuesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Revelation 14:14-19

The time to reap has come, because the earth’s harvest is fully ripe.

I, John, looked and there was a white cloud, and sitting on the cloud one who looked like a son of man, with a gold crown on his head and a sharp sickle in his hand. Another angel came out of the temple, crying out in a loud voice to the one sitting on the cloud, “Use your sickle and reap the harvest, for the time to reap has come, because the earth’s harvest is fully ripe.” So the one who was sitting on the cloud swung his sickle over the earth, and the earth was harvested.    Then another angel came out of the temple in heaven who also had a sharp sickle. Then another angel came from the altar, who was in charge of the fire, and cried out in a loud voice to the one who had the sharp sickle, “Use your sharp sickle and cut the clusters from the earth’s vines, for its grapes are ripe.” So the angel swung his sickle over the earth and cut the earth’s vintage. He threw it into the great wine press of God’s fury.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 96:10, 11-12, 13

R/ The Lord comes to judge the earth.

Say among the nations: The LORD is king. He has made the world firm, not to be moved;    he governs the peoples with equity.

R/ The Lord comes to judge the earth.

Let the heavens be glad and the earth rejoice;    let the sea and what fills it resound;    let the plains be joyful and all that is in them! Then shall all the trees of the forest exult.

R/ The Lord comes to judge the earth.

Before the LORD, for he comes;    for he comes to rule the earth. He shall rule the world with justice    and the peoples with his constancy.

R/ The Lord comes to judge the earth.

Gospel Acclamation

Revelation 2:10c

Alleluia, alleluia. Remain faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

Luke 21:5-11

There will not be left a stone upon another stone.

While some people were speaking about how the temple was adorned with costly stones and votive offerings, Jesus said, “All that you see here– the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.”    Then they asked him, “Teacher, when will this happen? And what sign will there be when all these things are about to happen?” He answered, “See that you not be deceived, for many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he,’ and ‘The time has come.’ Do not follow them! When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for such things must happen first, but it will not immediately be the end.” Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be powerful earthquakes, famines, and plagues from place to place; and awesome sights and mighty signs will come from the sky.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

------------------------------------------------------------

Saints Andrew Dũng-Lạc and his Companions, Martyrs

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Tuesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

EITHER: 

First Reading

2 Chronicles 24:18-22

Zechariah was stoned to death in the court of the Lord’s temple.

The princes of Judah forsook the temple of the LORD, the God of their fathers, and began to serve the sacred poles and the idols; and because of this crime of theirs, wrath came upon Judah and Jerusalem. Although prophets were sent to them to convert them to the LORD, the people would not listen to their warnings. Then the spirit of God possessed Zechariah, son of Jehoiada the priest. He took his stand above the people and said to them: “God says, ‘Why are you transgressing the LORD’s commands, so that you cannot prosper? Because you have abandoned the LORD, he has abandoned you.’” But the people conspired against him, and at the king’s order they stoned him to death in the court of the LORD’s temple. Thus King Joash was unmindful of the devotion shown him by Jehoiada, Zechariah’s father, and slew his son. And as he was dying, he said, “May the LORD see and avenge.”

OR: --------

First reading 2 Maccabees 6:18, 21, 24-31 I am suffering it with joy in my soul because of my devotion to him.

Eleazar, one of the foremost scribes, a man of advanced age and noble appearance, was being forced to open his mouth to eat pork. Those in charge of that unlawful ritual meal took the man aside privately, because of their long acquaintance with him, and urged him to bring meat of his own providing, such as he could legitimately eat, and to pretend to be eating some of the meat of the sacrifice prescribed by the king.    He told them: “At our age it would be unbecoming to make such a pretense; many young men would think the ninety-year-old Eleazar had gone over to an alien religion. Should I thus pretend for the sake of a brief moment of life, they would be led astray by me, while I would bring shame and dishonor on my old age. Even if, for the time being, I avoid the punishment of men, I shall never, whether alive or dead, escape the hands of the Almighty. Therefore, by manfully giving up my life now, I will prove myself worthy of my old age, and I will leave to the young a noble example of how to die willingly and generously for the revered and holy laws.”    He spoke thus, and went immediately to the instrument of torture. Those who shortly before had been kindly disposed now became hostile toward him because what he had said seemed to them utter madness. When he was about to die under the blows, he groaned and said: “The LORD in his holy knowledge knows full well that, although I could have escaped death, I am not only enduring terrible pain in my body from this scourging, but also suffering it with joy in my soul because of my devotion to him.” This is how he died, leaving in his death a model of courage and an unforgettable example of virtue not only for the young but for the whole nation.

OR: --------

First reading 2 Maccabees 7:1-2, 9-14 We are ready to die rather than transgress the laws of our ancestors.

It happened that seven brothers with their mother were arrested and tortured with whips and scourges by the king, to force them to eat pork in violation of God’s law. One of the brothers, speaking for the others, said: “What do you expect to achieve by questioning us? We are ready to die rather than transgress the laws of our ancestors.”    At the point of death, the second brother said: “You accursed fiend, you are depriving us of this present life, but the King of the world will raise us up to live again forever. It is for his laws that we are dying.”    After him the third suffered their cruel sport. He put out his tongue at once when told to do so, and bravely held out his hands, as he spoke these noble words: “It was from Heaven that I received these; for the sake of his laws I disdain them; from him I hope to receive them again.” Even the king and his attendants marveled at the young man’s courage, because he regarded his sufferings as nothing.    After he had died, they tortured and maltreated the fourth brother in the same way. When he was near death, he said, “It is my choice to die at the hands of men with the hope God gives of being raised up by him; but for you, there will be no resurrection to life.”

OR: --------

First reading 2 Maccabees 7:1, 20-23, 27b-29 This most admirable mother bore it courageously because of her hope in the Lord.

It happened that seven brothers with their mother were arrested and tortured with whips and scourges by the king, to force them to eat pork in violation of God’s law.    Most admirable and worthy of everlasting remembrance was the mother, who saw her seven sons perish in a single day, yet bore it courageously because of her hope in the LORD. Filled with a noble spirit that stirred her womanly heart with manly courage she exhorted each of them in the language of their forefathers with these words: “I do not know how you came into existence in my womb; it was not I who gave you the breath of life, nor was it I who set in order the elements of which each of you is composed. Therefore, since it is the Creator of the universe who shapes each man’s beginning, as he brings about the origin of everything, he, in his mercy, will give you back both breath and life, because you now disregard yourselves for the sake of his law.”    “Son, have pity on me, who carried you in my womb for nine months, nursed you for three years, brought you up, educated and supported you to your present age. I beg you, child, to look at the heavens and the earth and see all that is in them; then you will know that God did not make them out of existing things; and in the same way the human race came into existence. Do not be afraid of this executioner, but be worthy of your brothers and accept death, so that in the time of mercy I may receive you again with them.”

OR: --------

First reading Wisdom 3:1-9 As sacrificial offerings he took them to himself.

The souls of the just are in the hand of God,    and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead;    and their passing away was thought an affliction    and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace. For if before men, indeed, they be punished,    yet is their hope full of immortality; Chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed,    because God tried them    and found them worthy of himself. As gold in the furnace, he proved them,    and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. In the time of their visitation they shall shine,    and shall dart about as sparks through stubble; They shall judge nations and rule over peoples,    and the LORD shall be their King forever. Those who trust in him shall understand truth,    and the faithful shall abide with him in love: Because grace and mercy are with his holy ones,    and his care is with his elect.

OR: --------

First reading Sirach 51:1-8 You redeemed me, true to the greatness of your mercy and of your name.

I  give you thanks, O Lord and King;    I praise you, O God my savior! I will make known your name,    for you have been a helper and a protector to me. You have kept back my body from the pit,    and from the scourge of a slanderous tongue,    from lips that went over to falsehood. And in the sight of those who stood by,    you have delivered me, According to the multitude of the mercy of your name,    and from them that did roar, prepared to devour me, And from the power of those who sought my life;    from many a danger you have saved me,    from flames that hemmed me in on every side; From the midst of unremitting fire when I was not burnt    from the deep belly of the nether world; From deceiving lips and painters of lies,    from the arrows of dishonest tongues. My soul was at the point of death,    my life was nearing the depths of the nether world; They encompassed me on every side, but there was no one to help me,    I looked for one to sustain me, but could find no one. But then I remembered the mercies of the LORD,    his kindness through ages past; For he saves those who take refuge in him,    and rescues them from every evil.

-------- ________

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 31:3cd-4, 6 and 8ab, 16bc and 17

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

Be my rock of refuge,    a stronghold to give me safety. You are my rock and my fortress;    for your name’s sake you will lead and guide me.

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

Into your hands I commend my spirit;    you will redeem me, O LORD, O faithful God. I will rejoice and be glad because of your mercy.

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

Rescue me from the clutches of my enemies and my persecutors, Let your face shine upon your servant;    save me in your kindness.

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

________

Gospel Acclamation Matthew 5:10

Alleluia, alleluia. Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven. Alleluia, alleluia.

Or: John 17:19

Alleluia, alleluia. I consecrate myself for them, so that they also may be consecrated in the truth. Alleluia, alleluia.

Or: 2 Corinthians 1:3b-4a

Alleluia, alleluia. Blessed be the Father of compassion and God of all encouragement, who encourages us in our every affliction. Alleluia, alleluia.

Or: James 1:12

Alleluia, alleluia. Blessed is the man who perseveres in temptation, for when he has been proved he will receive the crown of life. Alleluia, alleluia.

Or: 1 Peter 4:14

Alleluia, alleluia. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, blessed are you, for the Spirit of God rests upon you. Alleluia, alleluia.

Or: see Te Deum

Alleluia, alleluia. We praise you, O God, we acclaim you as Lord; the white-robed army of martyrs praise you. Alleluia, alleluia.

________

EITHER: --------

Gospel Matthew 10:17-22 You will be led before governors and kings for my sake, as a witness before them and the pagans.

Jesus said to his Apostles: “Beware of men, for they will hand you over to courts and scourge you in their synagogues, and you will be led before governors and kings for my sake as a witness before them and the pagans. When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say. You will be given at that moment what you are to say. For it will not be you who speak but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. Brother will hand over brother to death, and the father his child; children will rise up against parents and have them put to death. You will be hated by all because of my name, but whoever endures to the end will be saved.”

OR: --------

Gospel Matthew 10:28-33 Do not be afraid of those who kill the body.

Jesus said to his Apostles: “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna. Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge. Even all the hairs of your head are counted. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father. But whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father.”

OR: --------

Gospel Matthew 10:34-39 I have come to bring not peace but the sword.

Jesus said to his Apostles: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword. For I have come to set

a man ‘against his father,    a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;    and one’s enemies will be those of one’s household.’

“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 9:23-26 Whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.

Jesus said to all, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. What profit is there for one to gain the whole world yet lose or forfeit himself? Whoever is ashamed of me and of my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of when he comes in his glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels.”

OR: --------

Gospel John 12:24-26 If a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it produces much fruit.

Jesus said to his disciples: “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be. The Father will honor whoever serves me.”

OR: --------

Gospel John 15:18-21 If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.

Jesus said to his disciples: “If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you. Remember the word I spoke to you, ‘No slave is greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours. And they will do all these things to you on account of my name, because they do not know the one who sent me.”

OR: --------

Gospel John 17:11b-19 The world hated them.

Lifting his eyes to heaven, Jesus prayed, saying: “Holy Father, keep them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one just as we are one. When I was with them I protected them in your name that you gave me, and I guarded them, and none of them was lost except the son of destruction, in order that the Scripture might be fulfilled. But now I am coming to you. I speak this in the world so that they may share my joy completely. I gave them your word, and the world hated them, because they do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world. I do not ask that you take them out of the world but that you keep them from the Evil One. They do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world. Consecrate them in the truth. Your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I sent them into the world. And I consecrate myself for them, so that they also may be consecrated in truth.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[shieldofgod]

Widening Gyre

Turning and turning in the widening gyre   The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst   Are full of passionate intensity.

-William Butler Years; The Second Coming

She cried the first time.  The second.  The fiftieth.

Sometime before the hundredth, she had stopped.

Raphael had reassured her, telling her to stay the course, the final line between losing angels to Lucifer’s side or keeping them with the Host: They won’t remember the pain. You are saving them.

She cries again for the first time in thousands of years when it’s Michael on her table.  A moment born of raw panic: The first angel had decided that the Host needed to be told about Intelligence operations.  That the only way they could heal would be to know the full truth.

She panicked; when his back was turned, she took the point of her specialized blade and jammed it into the nerve clusters at the base of his skull.  Caught his vessel as he fell, conscious but paralyzed.  They were alone in that moment.  

The horror and truth sank in all at once: She couldn’t walk this back, take this back.  She could only go forward.

So, she cries the first time she reprograms the archangel.  And the second.  Looking into Michael’s vessel’s hazel-green eyes, seeing the stark fear and confusion and betrayal, she cries and apologizes, but Naomi still does what needs done.

She doesn’t cry after the third; resigns herself, instead, to the realization that this is the only way she can restore order.  Michael never does get the chance to tell the Host.

--

--

What she has never told anyone -- but that Raphael knew -- is that she cried for Castiel, too.  Thrice over, the same angel, who kept veering off the course they were supposed to stay; little defiances born of too much empathy.  The first time the worst: His innocent confusion that gave way to pain and terror.  She could take away his memory of that pain and terror, but not her own, and his desperate plea -- I can be good. -- haunted her until she learned how to turn that part of herself off.

--

--

Holding onto Michael proves both easier and harder than Naomi expected, because archangels are something different.  Lucifer, Gabriel, Kemuel; all three doing the unexpected.  The base programming takes the longest; the bend of Michael’s will to hers, in order for her to do her job more effectively.  To be able to call him back to a work room without his resistance.  To be able to follow her suggestions without kicking against them.

She is at it hours, as he is strapped conscious and bleeding in that chair, paralyzed and helpless to escape the pain; she cries, but she does her duty.  She can’t even remove the memories of doing it, only bury them and obscure them and hope he never manages to retrieve them.

She finds his prior association with Kemuel and leaves it there, for now.  But the knowledge of another archangel potentially interfering with Heaven’s stability sticks with her as she does.

--

--

She pulls Castiel back, after something trips across her programming enough to catch her attention -- the tendrils of grace and thought she has woven across innumerable angels, in order to keep her grip on them -- and finds he also now knows of the lost archangel as well; instead of removing it, though, she merely softens the edges of panic at having his memory called into question and sets him loose again, this time as an unwitting spy.

Kemuel will need dealt with, but first she needs something capable of doing the dealing.

Michael is the only asset at her disposal; she redoubles her efforts to make him ready.

--

--

She dodges Albiel’s suspicious looks; treats the General’s lieutenant with distant respect, but she is watching all the while and waiting.  But Albiel is not the threat she thinks she is; Naomi controls Michael, and therefore Heaven’s most terrifying weapon.

--

--

All the while, she leaves Samandriel in Crowley’s hands.  She had sent him to retrieve the Word of God and the Prophet, but when he was captured -- there was nothing to be done to prevent it -- she knew this was an opportunity to learn how Hell had advanced in the interrogation of angels in order to better safeguard against it in the future.

She lets the Host think Samandriel is dead; she herself does eventually lose track of him, but so much else is happening that it gets put to the side.

She doesn’t expect Crowley to be as good -- if crude -- at hacking into angels as she is herself.

By the time Samandriel is begging for help, it’s already too late.  She has only one angel in control on Earth, so she sends Castiel.

She doesn’t think, in those moments, that she has just sent Samandriel’s own harmony to rescue him and that some songs echo so much longer and deeper than her cuts ever can.

--

--

Castiel fights her for the first time since she dragged him from Purgatory and took away his memory of his vessel.  Even addled, he fights.  She has to grab every string she’s tied in knots around every hole in his mind to get him to obey.

“This is a direct order! Kill him!”

He does.  But she can see all of her work cracking apart.  The parting strings, in his devastation; the thrall crumbling in light of the horror.

Naomi once had siblings she loved like that, long ago; when they died during the War, she slowly forgot the feeling of that closeness.  So, it never occurs to her that ordering Castiel to kill his own closest brother might be enough to test her control of him to its breaking point.

She walks him through the after.  Tries to reassure him that he did the right thing.

But when she tries to take Samandriel’s vessel’s body away from him after he returns, the last of those strings part; in a moment, the seraph is free, eyes blazing up and great wings burning and raw hatred in his eyes, and he r o a r s at her and bares teeth and slashes at her with his burning primaries, and for a moment Naomi is the one who is terrified.

Castiel’s voice shakes the entire Intelligence department; scorches the imprint of his misery into the very walls themselves.

She falls back just barely in time, feeling the heat of his rage and grief blistering across her vessel’s skin, but luckily she is not alone and two of her operatives manage to put him down.

One of them is so badly burned that they might never recover.

Shaken, she takes Samandriel away.  Shaken, she realizes that everything is coming apart.

Shaken, she does everything she can to snatch all of the pieces and jam them back together.

--

--

Samandriel’s vessel and the ash of himself goes missing the moment she turns her back, without a trace.

Frightened even more by that, she tries to get answers out of Castiel, but only finds some nobody demigod and Kemuel in his recent memory.

Castiel was terrified of her before.  He still is.  But he hates her, now, and she is more sickened by that than she ever expected to be.

Staggered and reeling, she does the only thing she can: She tries to restore order.

“He is bringing instability and danger to the Host,” she tells Michael -- hazel-green eyes blank and soldierly -- as he stands before her, as she sends him to take Kemuel out, to remove the rogue archangel’s ability to influence any others. “You must kill him, General.”

--

@kemuele​, @fracturedsword​, @featheredhunter​

[huntertales]

Part Four: Let It Go. (Pac-Man Fever S08E20)

Episode Summary: Concerned about the physical toll the second trial took on the reader, the boys force her to take a break from hunting until she heals up. So, when the geektastic hacker Charlie Bradbury stumbles upon a case and finds the trio, she talks her way into letting Dean teach her how to be a hunter-in-training. While happy to see “her highness”, the reader and the boys feels Charlie is hiding a secret that could get her killed. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1,543. (This is a pathetic update whoops lol)

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You enjoyed seeing Charlie on the unexpected visit to Kansas that turned out to be for a different reason than you first expected. And while these past few days were stressful and full of twists you never expected to endure, at the end of it all, things turned out okay for everyone. You and the boys treated Charlie to a room in the bunker for her to stay in for the night before she headed off tomorrow morning. You tried to cheer Charlie up from the hard dose of reality she had to face with her mother by telling her stories of your past. Embarrassing memories she couldn't read in those God awful "Supernatural" books. It was enough to bring a smile to her face while she was able to kick up her feet and enjoy a few beers with the boys. 

The next morning you hoped you were sending off Charlie off on her own with more a clearer conscious from the things she did with one less weight on her shoulders. You made your way up the steps to the ground level and followed behind while Sam carried Charlie's bags for her and Dean walked in sync with you. 

“So, thanks for saving our bacon.” Charlie said to the younger Winchester. If it wasn’t for him and taking down that second djinn you had no idea was there, all of you might not be alive. Sam merely chuckled to himself and reassured her that it was nothing. "And you," You saw her index finger point itself in your direction. "You know it was stupid what you did." 

"I know, I know." You said, shrugging your shoulders at your actions that were probably stupid from someone in your condition. You were already pushing your body in limits that you probably shouldn’t. "I'm never going to hear the end of it from the boys. Dream root doesn't have much effect on the body. I'll be okay, Charlie." 

"Of course you're gonna be okay. Those books portray you as, like, one tough customer. If anyone can get through these trials, Y/N, it's you. Most importantly, you're gonna be a great mom." Charlie said. You felt your lips stretch into a small smile at her kind words. You mumbled a thank you. "Also, I better get a call when baby Y/L/N-Winchester is born." 

"Oh, you will. And it's just baby Winchester. One day their father will formally propose to me and we'll get married. Right?" You linked arms with Dean and looked up at him, wondering what his response was going to be at the mention of the possibility of wedding bells in the future. He found himself smiling in the kind of way that was genuine, even with excitement  at the thought of being able to keep the promise he made to you. "First thing's first. I'd like to complete the trials and then have the baby. We'll see what the future holds when everything calms down. Maybe you can even stop by sooner..."

"Yeah. You really should come back and dig through our archives." Sam gave a suggestion to Charlie he knew she couldn’t refuse. "You are definitely a Woman of Letters." 

“I like the sound of that.” She said, breaking out into a smile at her new title.

Charlie reached up to her tippy toes to wrap her arms around Sam's body when he bent down to give her a hug as his final goodbye towards her before making his way back into the bunker. You broke out into yet another smile when it was your turn to say goodbye. You stretched your arms and pulled her into a tight hug, mumbling that you were going to miss her. And how everything was going to be okay. She heard those words a lot in her life, but coming from you that sounded like the truth. You pulled away from her and waved goodbye before heading back into the bunker. As you made your way to the stairs, you found yourself momentarily stopping when you had that feeling again. The fluttering in your stomach that made you realize the baby was moving. It was trying to kick, maybe even punch. You chuckled to yourself and made your way down the stairs and back into the bunker, leaving Dean to say his goodbyes in private. 

“Well, thanks for stopping by, Charlie. Always wanted to get ‘Tron’ed.” Dean said. “What’s next for you?” 

“Gonna go by the hospital. Got to let go, right?” Charlie felt her happiness dwindle slightly at the mention of her plans that she had to do in order to fully move on with her life. And that was to share her final moments with her mother before letting her be at peace. Charlie kicked a rock with the heel of her foot before looking back up at Dean, knowing he harbored two people that he would do anything for. And even been on the brink of death a few times. “What about you? You gonna let it go?” 

“Never.” Dean admitted to her, the ends of his lips stretching into a smirk. 

“That’s Y/N and my boys.” Charlie muttered underneath her breath. She fell silent for a moment, not sure what else she could say that would be perfect for her goodbye to Dean. She stared down at the ground for a second before looking back up at him, deciding on something she couldn't resist saying to him. "I love you." 

“I know.” Dean responded back in the way that only seemed fitting.

Dean remembered what he said about Charlie when he first met her a few years ago, back when she risked her life to help them. She was like a sister he never wanted. And she was that. She was like his little sister, the annoying nerd that he'd do anything for. He kissed the top of her head before pulling away, letting her do that needed to be done. As he watched her walk away back to her two door obnoxiously yellow colored car, he found himself feeling more...optimistic in a way. Charlie always had that effect on him. He could be at his rock bottom and she'd still talk him up like he could do anything. She was a little ray of sunshine. 

He made his way back into the bunker in search of his little brother first. Sam was sitting in the library, of course, with his nose buried in some books while doing research. When he saw Dean coming forward, the first thought in his mind was that he was about to get ripped a new one for letting you come along to the hunt when Dean specifically told him not to. Instead, Sam was taken by surprise when his brother pulled him into a hug. the brotherly kind that needed to be shared every so often. Just to remind one another that much as one another could bicker and be a pain in the ass, at the end of it all, they loved one another. And only wanted the best.

Dean found you in the kitchen busying yourself with making breakfast that consisted of something that looked a little bit strange. You mindlessly licked the tip of your thumb to clean off the substance to your meal, not realizing your boyfriend was heading your way until it was too late. Your expression fell slightly at the sight of him. You knew once you and him were alone he was going to lecture you about the stupid things you had done. And thinking more about it, he was right. But it wasn't in your nature to sit on the sidelines. 

“Okay, look, before you go off, just let me say this—you were right. I should’ve laid low. And I sure shouldn't have dragged Sam into this mess. I know. But I couldn’t help myself. Charlie was in danger.” You said, telling him the reasons why you were against his orders. “I promise I’ll take it easy from here on out—”

You were about to finish saying the words that he would have loved to hear just a few days ago to reassure his mind. Instead you found yourself cut off by the feeling of his lips on yours, pulling you into a kiss that took the breath out of your lungs. Your eyelids slowly fluttered shut to enjoy the feeling that Dean could give you with a simple little kiss. You weren't sure what you did to get this reaction out from him. When he pulled away, you found yourself staring up at him, curious to what made him suddenly feel like being affectionate today. 

“What do you say we find our prophet?” Dean asked you. 

You smiled at the question you answered with a simple nod of the head. You wanted nothing more in this world than to get Kevin back and make him finish translating the tablet. You wanted to only get these damn trials over with, but you wanted to start enjoying life again. The way you were fighting for. You grabbed your breakfast and headed into the library with Dean, you and the boys cracking down on finding your prophet boy to bring him back home. 

[Next Part]

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @albot-e // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink  // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner  // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha //   @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink //  @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans //  @icantfindacreativeurl //  @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings

Message me if you would like to be added!

[gothhabiba]

hello miss najia, first of all if this is too loaded a question feel free to tell me to fuck off. that being said, i recently came out to my family and its...yikes. theyre doing their best to deal with it but in the meantime, theres something i wanted to ask you. my dad is really religious, and he cant grasp the two (seemingly) contrasting realities of his love for me and his religion. ive heard from a lot of christian gays that the sodom and gomorrah story is not a clearcut damning of- (1/?)

-homosexuality, but as i tried to do research on the muslim versions, all i come up with is incriminating. i have never read the quran before, and my religious stance has always been personal and centered around love. now that ive faced this difficulty, i want to read the quran, but the problem of translations has been bothering me. do you have a version that you would suggest to me? im all very new to this. and if it is not too much to ask, could you share your opinion of the two cities of sodom and gomorrah? and again, feel free to ignore the second question, id really be content with your suggestion of the translation, if you choose to respond. thank you in advance, and congradulations on submitting your thesis! please take care

1. it actually bothers me a lil bit when people say things like ‘tell me to fuck off’, I feel it attributes a sort of malice or potential malice to me that I’ve just never demonstrated (this post is abt white people but it’s the general kind of thing I’m talking about)

2. the translation of the Qur’an that I’ve read in English is one by M.A.S Abdel Haleem which is pretty standard / widely recommended, quite readable & has occasional notes where they’re helpful. he’s also published books on understanding the themes & rhetorical devices used in the Qur’an (which can be a bit confusing if you’re expecting the stories to be like, completely linear)

3. I don’t know which sect you are but from anything in Islam recommending any kind of earthly punishment for ‘homosexuality’ is in the hadiths....... not the Qur’an. frankly I don’t bother myself with it at all because I don’t believe in god & am just here for a laff. I’ve encountered plenty of clarifications / other interpretations of this story tho’, largely centring around the idea that the crime was not ‘homosexuality’ or ‘sodomy’ but in fact attempted r*pe, inhospitality, denying the authority of god or the prophets, &c. from some quick searching:

Islamic Texts: A Source for Acceptance of Queer Individuals into Mainstream Muslim Society

What Does Islam Say About Being Gay?

The Qur’an, the Bible and homosexuality in Islam (tho’ this one claims that 4:16 is about ‘lewdness’ specifically between men, which interpretation is rejected by almost everyone)

this all came up with search terms “Sodom and Gomorrah” “Islam” and “LGBT”--likely you’d have less luck on a search if you used a term like “homosexuality”. you may also have luck with “q*eer”. & some of my followers may know more than I do.

[gifted08]

How to Live A Healthy Christian Life



This year, I hired a personal trainer to help me at the gym. What drove my decision was the realization that I was fatigued and out of shape. Our spiritual lives sometimes need help too. We become fatigued and out of shape. We know in our hearts that life transformation is supposed to be part of our spiritual journey, but often we see so little. It leaves us wondering, What am I doing wrong? Why doesn’t my life show more evidence of the radical transformation God calls me to?

Christians Struggle in Today’s Culture

The Apostle Paul wrote that we are “being transformed into His (Christ’s) image – with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Holy Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:18). Reading that you might wonder, Wow! What’s wrong with me? I don’t see much of the promised “ever-increasing glory” in my life. Does this whole life in Christ even work? If that’s you, you are far from alone. Disillusioned, many people are leaving the church. 

Author Peter Scazzero writes in his bestselling book Emotionally Healthy Spirituality: 

Researchers have been charting the departing dust of those known as ‘church leavers’ – an increasingly large group that has been gathering in numbers in recent years.

Another survey of more than 35,000 Americans by the Pew Research Center finds that the percentage of adults (ages 18 and older) who describe themselves as Christians has dropped by nearly eight percentage points in just seven years.

Society itself is becoming increasingly turned off by Christianity. I don’t think we can blame that solely on the growing secularization of our culture. Unfortunately, many have earned the title “judgmental,” and while Jesus calls us to love as He does, so-called Christians spend more time screaming about their rights than they do loving their neighbors.

What’s the answer? The radical life transformation promised in scripture is only possible through a healthy growing relationship with Christ. However, like any relationship, it takes intentionality. You have to invest in your relationship with Christ in order to gain a healthy return as far as being transformed. The Holy Spirit orchestrates the transformation, but He expects us to cooperate. Believers must learn how to develop practices that will lead them to greater spiritual health. 

Five Practices for Getting Spiritually Fit

Silence: Our culture has become addicted to noise. Between cell phones, email, social media and television, we have information bombarding our brains 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Yet Jesus invites us to come away, by ourselves, to a quiet place to get some rest (Mark 6:31). It is in the quiet places and spaces that we are able to hear His voice. When God revealed himself to the prophet Elijah in 1 Kings 19, the Bible says God was not in a powerful earthquake, not in a roaring fire, but came to Elijah as a still, small voice. This year, I have recommitted to the practice of silence in my own spiritual journey. I tend to live life in the fast lane. Between travelling, speaking, writing and keeping up with family obligations, I realize that I need more quiet in my life to be able to hear the still, small voice of God’s whisper. I practice silence and stillness for a few minutes each day. It takes a little effort to renew this forgotten practice, but it is so worthwhile.

Praise: We were created to worship. We really can’t have a healthy spiritual walk without the practice of worship. I believe we need both times of intentional personal worship and times of corporate worship. As we choose to praise God intentionally, our thoughts shift from our worries and problems to the Holy One who is able to solve these problems and give us peace. Psalm 150 instructs us to make praise the continual pattern of our lives. Here’s the thing: it is impossible to praise God and remain unchanged. Praise is one of the single most effective life transformational tools we’ve been given. Learn to use it!

Bible Meditation: The scripture is our final authority for life and godliness, so how can we experience life change without considering what the scriptures say? Psalm 1 beautifully depicts one who is blessed and joy-filled in their spiritual walk as someone who takes “delight in the law of the Lord and meditates on his law day and night” (Psalm 1:2). The Hebrew word for “meditate” that is used here means to reflect on or to mutter and carries the idea of rehearsing a thought over and over in our minds. The Psalmist goes on to write that the person who delights and meditates on God’s word is one who will live a fruitful spiritual life (Psalm 1:3). I have found it helpful to take a small portion of scripture and meditate on that passage. I write in my journal my thoughts on the passage and consider what God might be speaking to me through the scripture I’ve read. Throughout my day I rehearse the scripture in my mind. By rooting our lives in scripture, we’re not easily rattled or frazzled by current events. We have a steady and strong foundation for our relationship with Christ.

Community: You were designed for community with God and with others. You were never meant to walk your spiritual journey alone. The wise writer of Proverbs wrote, “As iron sharpens iron so one person sharpens another” (Proverbs 27:17). As you faithfully participate in an authentic community and allow yourself to be vulnerable with other Christ followers, your spiritual transformation will flourish. Rather than isolating yourself, lean in. Dare to be vulnerable and ask others to come alongside you in your spiritual journey.

Genogram: The genogram is a tool that helps you trace patterns of sin and brokenness in your family. The Apostle Paul offers us some great questions when considering our family history: “Rather we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God” (2 Corinthians 4:2). Here’s my recommendation:draw your family tree. Then consider questions such as the following: Were there any secret or shameful practices in my family? Was deception a common practice? Were their addictions that were never talked about but always present? Prayerfully consider how the broken patterns of your family tree affected you spiritually.

A healthy spiritual life brings joy that is unparalleled, but it does require an investment. The good news is that, for centuries, followers of Jesus have invested in their relationship with Christ. By focusing on your spiritual health and fitness and making space in your life for healthy spiritual practices, you can as well.

[brotherseph]

The Road To Emmaus

April 07, 2021, Wednesday Wednesday in the Octave of Easter (White) CYCLE B - YEAR I Lectionary: 263

Reading I Acts 3:1-10

Peter and John were going up to the temple area for the three o’clock hour of prayer. And a man crippled from birth was carried and placed at the gate of the temple called “the Beautiful Gate” every day  to beg for alms from the people who entered the temple. When he saw Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked for alms. But Peter looked intently at him, as did John, and said, “Look at us.” He paid attention to them, expecting to receive something from them. Peter said, “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have I give you:  in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise and walk.” Then Peter took him by the right hand and raised him up, and immediately his feet and ankles grew strong. He leaped up, stood, and walked around, and went into the temple with them, walking and jumping and praising God. When all the people saw him walking and praising God, they recognized him as the one who used to sit begging at the Beautiful Gate of the temple, and they were filled with amazement and astonishment at what had happened to him.

Responsorial Psalm 105:1-2, 3-4, 6-7, 8-9

R.    (3b) Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.

or:

R.    Alleluia.

Give thanks to the LORD, invoke his name;     make known among the nations his deeds. Sing to him, sing his praise,     proclaim all his wondrous deeds.

R.    (3b) Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.

or:

R.    Alleluia.

Glory in his holy name;     rejoice, O hearts that seek the LORD! Look to the LORD in his strength;     seek to serve him constantly.

R.    (3b) Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.

or:

R.    Alleluia.

You descendants of Abraham, his servants,     sons of Jacob, his chosen ones! He, the LORD, is our God;     throughout the earth his judgments prevail.

R.    (3b) Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.

or:

R.    Alleluia.

He remembers forever his covenant     which he made binding for a thousand generations- Which he entered into with Abraham     and by his oath to Isaac.

R.    (3b) Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.

or:

R.    Alleluia.

Alleluia Ps 118:24

R. Alleluia, alleluia.

This is the day the LORD has made; let us be glad and rejoice in it.

R. Alleluia, alleluia.

GOSPEL Lk 24:13-35

That very day, the first day of the week, two of Jesus’ disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred. And it happened that while they were conversing and debating, Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him. He asked them,  “What are you discussing as you walk along?” They stopped, looking downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, said to him in reply, “Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know of the things that have taken place there in these days?” And he replied to them, “What sort of things?” They said to him,  “The things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, how our chief priests and rulers both handed him over to a sentence of death and crucified him. But we were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel; and besides all this, it is now the third day since this took place. Some women from our group, however, have astounded us: they were at the tomb early in the morning  and did not find his Body; they came back and reported that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who announced that he was alive. Then some of those with us went to the tomb and found things just as the women had described, but him they did not see.” And he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them what referred to him in all the Scriptures. As they approached the village to which they were going, he gave the impression that he was going on farther. But they urged him, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them. And it happened that, while he was with them at table, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them. With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight. Then they said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us?” So they set out at once and returned to Jerusalem where they found gathered together the Eleven and those with them who were saying, “The Lord has truly been raised and has appeared to Simon!” Then the two recounted what had taken place on the way and how he was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

REFLECTION:

Did you ever meet someone while on a journey- in a place, train or bus, hitchhiking, looking for asylum, a Sunday walk, a queue in a hospital, or the dentist, and you have a personal chat? People in the doctor's waiting room tell all sorts of personal details about themselves and their children. It was the same for the disciples on this Sunday walk. The disciples on the road at a bad time in their lives met a stranger who made some sense of some of their troubles. Jesus made sense of their distress by his presence and his word. A good chat can heal a bad day. A good prayer can do the same.

The message of the Gospel is a stark statement of the Law of the cross which is a folly and a scandal, unintelligible in itself and acceptable only in the light of Faith. The message of Christ and the demands that it makes on us would be hollow if Christ himself did not take on the depths of human suffering. After all, the first readers of Luke’s Gospel were facing persecution and some were prepared to die for their Faith. To those and many others who follow them to this very day, Christ did not point out the narrow, difficult path while taking a different route himself.

PRAYER:

Like Cleopas I walk with you, Lord, in all sorts of shapes; but I do not always recognize you. Open the scriptures to me, show me your face in those I walk with, put some warmth into my heart.

[seekfirstme]

The following reflection is courtesy of Don Schwager © 2021. Don's website is located at Dailyscripture.net

Meditation: What can blind us or keep us from recognizing God's glory and presence in our lives? Sin and unbelief for sure! Faith enables us to see what is hidden or unseen to the naked eye. Through the eyes of faith Abraham recognized God and God's call on his life. He saw from afar not only what God intended for him, but for his descendants as well - an everlasting covenant of friendship and peace with the living God. Abraham is the father of faith because he put his hope in the promises of God. Faith makes us taste in advance the light of God's glory when we shall see him face to face (1 Corinthians 13:12; 1 John 3:2).

The Lord Jesus reveals his glory in fulfilling his Father's will

Are you prepared to see God's glory? God is eager to share his glory with us! We get a glimpse of this when the disciples see Jesus transfigured on the mountain. Jesus' face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white (Mark 9:2,3).

When Moses met with God on Mount Sinai the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God (see Exodus 34:29). Paul says that the Israelites could not look at Moses' face because of its brightness (2 Corinthians 3:7). In the Gospel account Jesus appeared in glory with Moses, the great lawgiver of Israel, and with Elijah, the greatest of the prophets, in the presence of three of his beloved apostles - Peter, James, and John.

What is the significance of this mysterious appearance? Jesus went to the mountain knowing full well what awaited him in Jerusalem - his betrayal, rejection and crucifixion. Jesus very likely discussed this momentous decision to go to the cross with Moses and Elijah. God the Father also spoke with Jesus and gave his approval: This is my beloved Son; listen to him. The Father glorified his Son because he obeyed. The cloud which overshadowed Jesus and his apostles fulfilled the dream of the Jews that when the Messiah came the cloud of God's presence would fill the temple again (see Exodus 16:10, 19:9, 33:9; 1 Kings 8:10; 2 Maccabees 2:8). Jesus is the True Temple come down from heaven who reveals the glory of God to us (John 1:14 and John 2:19, Matthew 12:6), and who opens the way for us to worship the living God in spirit and truth (John 4:21-26).

The Lord wants to share his glory with each of us

The Lord Jesus not only wants us to see his glory - he wants to share this glory with us. And Jesus shows us the way to the Father's glory: follow me - obey my words - take the path I have chosen for you and you will receive the glory and blessings of my Father's kingdom - your names will be written in heaven (Luke 10:20).

Jesus succeeded in his mission because he willingly went to Calvary (where he offered up his life for us on the cross), so that Paradise (our true dwelling place with God) would be restored to us once again. He embraced the cross to obtain the crown of glory that awaits each one of us. If we hope to share fully in his glory, we, too, must follow him in the way of the cross - by dying to sin and embracing his will for our lives. This is the only true path that leads to everlasting peace and joy with God.

Origen (185-254 AD), an early church Scripture scholar and writer, describes how we are changed and transformed into Christ's likeness as we we look to him day by day with faith and honesty and strive to walk according to the light of his truth and righteousness (moral goodness):

"When he is transfigured, his face also shines as the sun that he may be manifested to the children of light who have put off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light, and are no longer the children of darkness or night but have become the sons of day, and walk honestly as in the day. Being manifest, he will shine unto them not simply as the sun, but as demonstrated to be the sun of righteousness." [Commentary on Matthew 12:37 by Origen]

Stay awake spiritually - Don't miss God's glory and action

Luke's Gospel account tells us that while Jesus was transfigured, Peter, James, and John were asleep (Luke 9:32)! Upon awakening they discovered Jesus in glory along with Moses and Elijah. How much do we miss of God's glory and action because we are asleep spiritually? There are many things which can keep our minds asleep to the things of God: Mental lethargy and the "unexamined life" can keep us from thinking things through and facing our doubts and questions in the light of Christ's truth. The life of ease can also hinder us from considering the challenging or disturbing demands of Christ to forsake all for him and his kingdom. Prejudice can make us blind to something new the Lord may have for us. Even sorrow can be a block until we can see past it to the glory of God.

How spiritually awake are you to Christ's presence and word of life for you? Peter, James, and John were privileged witnesses of the glory of Christ. We, too, as disciples of Christ are called to be witnesses of his glory. We all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being changed into his likeness from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit (2 Corinthians 3:18). The Lord wants to reveal his glory to us, his beloved disciples. Do you seek his presence with expectant faith, reverence, and willing obedience?

"Lord Jesus, keep me always alert and awake to you, to your word, your action, and your daily presence in my life. Let me see your glory."

The following reflection is from One Bread, One Body courtesy of Presentation Ministries © 2021.

IN GOD WE TRUST?

“God put Abraham to the test.” —Genesis 22:1

Lent is a season of being put to the test (see Mt 4:1; Gn 22:1). God, “the Tester of our hearts” (1 Thes 2:4), brings us to obedience school this Lent. He is testing us to see if we trust His promises or if our hearts are far from Him and we’ve just been giving Him “lip service” (Mk 7:6). Three days ago, the Church proclaimed Jesus’ promise that God wants to provide our needs (Mt 7:7-11). Tomorrow Jesus promises us that if we give, God will provide for us lavishly (Lk 6:38).

Do we believe God and His promises? Our lifestyle tells Him whether or not we trust His promises. For example, Abraham trusted God for his family even when he couldn’t see a way out of the test (Heb 11:8ff). This Lent, many are also being tested in the area of conceiving another child. Others will pay more attention to their financial situation or how much energy they have and pay little attention to God and His promises to provide for them. While it is wise to make prudent decisions (see Lk 14:28), this test is not about prudence. It is about trusting God and abandoning yourself into His hands. You can trust every one of God’s promises (Jos 23:14; 2 Cor 1:20).

“No test has been sent you that does not come to all men. Besides, God keeps His promise. He will not let you be tested beyond your strength. Along with the test He will give you a way out of it so that you may be able to endure it” (1 Cor 10:13). The exam is beginning. Pass the trust test

Prayer:  Father, the money in my pocket proclaims, “In God we trust.” May my life of trust in You speak louder than my money.

Promise:  “If God is for us, who can be against us?” —Rm 8:31

Praise:  “You need not be amazed! You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, the One Who was crucified. He has been raised up; He is not here. See the place where they laid Him” (Mk 16:6). Praise Jesus!

Reference:  (This teaching was submitted by a member of our editorial team.)

Rescript:  "In accord with the Code of Canon Law, I hereby grant the Nihil Obstat for One Bread, One Body covering the period from February 1, 2021 through March 31, 2021. Most Reverend Joseph R. Binzer, Auxiliary Bishop, Vicar General, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio March 31, 2020"

The Nihil Obstat ("Permission to Publish") is a declaration that a book or pamphlet is considered to be free of doctrinal or moral error. It is not implied that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat agree with the contents, opinions, or statements

[foolgobi65]

we can be heroes if we just close our eyes (head first, can’t lose)

k so this is chapter one of an unfinished fic i started writing 2 summers ago i’ve got like ... maybe 5/12 chapters written? its been hanging out on my shitty drive for too long so i figured id find out what you guys think!! its .... a ...... b99/avengers/megamind/amnesia fic. i know it makes no sense but it has a plot i promise. 

plEASE reblog im desperate for attention and validation and i have no shame whatsoever thanks love u all <3 <3 

“Jake’s gone and robbed another bank,” Black Widow says, filing her nails. She tosses a glance at Amy, filing away the last of her paperwork and pauses. “.....you could go stop that, if you’re in the mood, Cap.”

Captain America rolls her eyes and signs the last form. “Make sure that Holt gets this, alright?” Amy wonders whether she should put on her uniform, before deciding to just grab her shield. It’s not as if Peralta’s expecting anyone else.

“Excuse you, but I am a highly ranked Agent of this fine, international organization,” Gina says, “I’m like, second in command of all this shit. Go find a real secretary to do your dirty work.”

“You’re playing Kwazy Kupcakes,” Amy observes. Gina raises an eyebrow without looking away from her phone.

“And I snapped three necks between my thighs before 9 a.m,” Gina drawls. “I’m magical, bitch. Get on my level.”

Amy sighs, rolling her shoulders a little. “Just...make sure Holt sees the report, okay?”

“Jake’s probably robbed two banks in the time it took for us to have this little chat, but whatever.” Gina waves the fingers of her free hand vaguely in Amy’s direction. “We’re having a bit of a morale issue so don’t do any property damage, use two types of birth control, you know the drill.”

Amy does, in fact, know the drill. She strides into the elevator and checks the instructions that Gina’s managed to send her on the way down. It’s a screenshot of a series of text messages Peralta sent Gina about ten minutes ago, if the timestamp is correct. She reaches the ground floor, nods at a passing Agent and heads out to the parking lot still scrolling through the images.

stealin sme shit from the bank on prk ave

tell america 2 wear her civvies

her leather jacket is A+

she shud wer more leather less pantsuits

k the alarms r off c ya l8r sk8r

Amy looks down at her gabardine pantsuit and realizes two things simultaneously. 1) She needs to change out of her chunky heels, and 2) She’s going to have to wear her leather jacket, and Peralta will never let it go.

One change of shoes and jacket later, she’s on the road, cruising through traffic on her motorcycle. A child notices her shield strapped to her back and yells out excitedly, a young couple whistles three times before Amy is too far out of range to hear. Grandparents walking on the sidewalk salute, and Captain America Santiago switches between waving and a gentle smile, befitting her status as national icon.

Sometimes, she kind of loves her job. And then other times, she has to go fight Iron Dude in the streets of Manhattan.

“Ayyyy America!” Peralta shouts when she arrives. He’s currently occupied with throwing handfuls of what look to be hundred dollar bills from a giant bag he’s carrying in his left hand, repulsors keeping him airborne as he makes it rain money on the good denizens of New York. “Come to collect some extra cash? They can’t be paying you very well at SHIELD.”

Amy rolls her eyes, taking her gun out of its holster and shooting at the bag. Peralta moves slightly and they both watch as the bullet misses its target by inches.

“Were you even trying?” he asks laughing. Peralta throws another handful of bills into the air. Amy shrugs, grabbing some cash off the ground. Definitely hundreds, then. She readies her gun and fires again, this time repeatedly, anticipating any way he might move and meeting him with a bullet.

One of the bullets grazes Iron Dude’s hand, another three puncture the bag in quick succession. It drops on the pavement, and Amy smiles. Peralta groans, sound only slightly incongruous when filtered through the voice modulator of the Iron Dude suit.

“You’re the worst, America. All I wanted to do was even out the distribution a little, fight the power, you know?” Amy rolls her eyes.

“Then write a letter to your Congressman, Peralta. And stop calling me that.” He comes back to Earth, and steps forward.

“Stop calling you what, America? It’s your name, isn’t it? Tell me, did your parents know they were visionaries, or did they just assume they were when they named you. I mean what a coup for the propaganda: Captain America’s legal name literally being America Santiago.”

“Like I told you the last like fifty times you’ve asked me that, no my parents are not prophets, or fortune tellers nor are they actual fortune cookies you can purchase from Panda Express for three dollars,” Amy says with only a little hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. She forces down a distressing urge to place her hands on her hips. “And only my friends can call me by my first name.”

Iron Dude gasps, placing his hands over his heart. “I thought we had something, oh Captain my Captain! Was it all.....a lie? Say it ain’t so Cap-i-tan!”

Amy rolls her eyes. “I’m surprised you’ve even read Walt Whitman.”

Peralta cocks his head. “Who? I was quoting that Robin Williams movie, you know the one with the kids who stand up on their desks?”

She blinks. “The Dead Poets Society?” Peralta nods. “Yeah, that one! My eighth grade English teacher showed it to us ‘cause she wanted to like, inspire everyone to read poetry and crap but we all kind of just spun in circles and jumped up on our desks.” He strokes the chin of his helmet. “I think she got fired after the principal caught us playing leapfrog on the tables.”

Amy thinks she can be forgiven for throwing her shield. She takes a perverse pleasure in watching the way it makes stupid Peralta stumble backwards, and the hollow sound his Iron Ass makes when it touches the ground. She catches the shield when it boomerangs back and cocks her head.

“Jake Peralta,” she begins. “You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of--”

He rises, brushing himself off. Amy debates the merits of actually engaging in a fight, looking around for a moment as she performs a cost-benefit analysis in her head. Pros: she gets to bash in his stupid looking suit. Cons: they always manage to take down a building or two, and then Amy has to clean up the rubble while the Times takes a bunch of candids for the print edition and Snapchats the rest.

Their Snapchat following has shot up through the roof, mainly because Amy reached a deal where she’d give a quick interview while she worked if the photographers made sure not to publish the dorkiest looking pictures they take of her. She knows what she looks like in battle, and the way she grits her teeth is definitely not something she wants to see on the front page of her Sunday Edition.

Amy checks to make sure Peralta doesn’t have anything but his suit on him, and throws her shield one more time. She smirks at the satisfying bang, and hope it really hurts when he starts flying again, waving as he jets over her head.

“This was fun and all,” he says, “but I’ve really got a prior engagement. Byeeeeeee”

Amy barely resists showing her middle finger, but most of her impulse control right now is coming from the small child she can see staring across the street. She notices people staring, most likely curious at why she let a criminal fly off into the sunset.

“Money’s a little tight in Albany,” she says to the crowd. “No one really wants to pay for another fallen building...and he left the money, right?”

Everyone laughs, nodding their head at her explanation. Amy starts picking up the cash on the ground, and wonders if she should have made better life choices. Ones that wouldn’t end up with her using a very expensive vibranium shield to hold hundred dollar bills she’s picking up off the road.

“Captain America! Oh my god, Mom, it's Captain America!” Amy turns to see the little girl jumping up and down across the road. “She’s the coolest, oh my god do you think she’ll sign something for me?”

Amy smiles faintly and turns to face her adoring fan, crossing the street to give her a hug and an autograph. Maybe a little clean up isn’t the worst thing in the world after all.

She looks back at the road, notices the milling bank executives and groans.

Fucking Peralta.