#the faithful in love will dwell with the Lord

[dramoor]

“Those who trust in the Lord will comprehend the truth. Those who are faithful in love will dwell with him.”

~Wisdom of Solomon 3:9

[scripture-pictures]

[missisjoker]

I wonder if the universal love for the House Stark is rooted in the authentic, non-toxic masculinity that this house represents.

In the brutally realistic, gory world of the Song of Ice and Fire, House Stark occupies the golden mean between vices and comes as close to the Aragorn-esque style masculinity as we can get.

Lord Stark is, first and foremost, a protector, the one who cares for and defends the lives entrusted to him. Unlike any other house, a Stark doesn't do it for the status or comfort that comes with a royal office. While other houses seek pleasures, riches, and status, Stark seeks duty.

In a world filled with conquest, violence and immorality, Starks take it upon themselves to protect the rest against the dark powers that dwell beyond the wall.

They are fiercely protective, brave, strong, and very competent in battle (remember, a house wouldn't hold their realm for 8 thousand years if they weren't). They are hardworking, they have grit and survival skills, they have discipline.

They don't abuse their status of lordship, but instead, they forge a bond of brotherhood with all the people of the north, a type of bond that grows when death stares you in the face.

Lords of Winterfell are caretakers and providers too- they make sure their people are fed and warm when the long winters overtake their kingdom. It takes -and builds- a special form of trust - to open your hearth for those in need and shelter and care for them in the most dangerous situation.

This unshakeable trust is the source of their honor- this is why they always keep their word; their survival depends on it.

Last but not least, their treatment of women. While the house itself is very masculine-coded (unlike, say, Tyrells with their matriarchal structure or Martells with their egalitarianism), women share as much respect as men. You can see that in many examples: Ned is horrified Robert beats Cercei and sees it as dishonorable; no Stark men got a reputation for frequenting brothels, they are portrayed as restrained and faithful; neither Ned nor Jon ever try to stop Arya from pursuing boy activities, on the contrary- both encourage and support it (it is women who belittle her for that- Sansa and Septa); Cregan Stark stills his hand from rightfully executing traitors during the Hour of the World because ladies of the great houses convince him to.

There is also ... mystery, wildness, and almost feral danger that lurks deep beneath the dutiful and well-controlled exterior - like wolves under the starlight in the dark forests. They are the children of the first men, they worship old, wild gods and wield old magic - don't try to convince me it isn't even a little ...alluring.

[thewordfortheday]

Deuteronomy 7:9—"Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; He is the faithful God, keeping His covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love Him and keep His commands.”

Moses experienced God's faithfulness in every predicament he faced and declared, “He is the faithful God."

At the Red Sea, God did not forsake His people but split it open, when their throats were parched, He split the rock and quenched their thirst, when the Isarealites were hungry He opened the heavens and rained Manna and satisfied them. 

God’s faithfulness means, that, everything He says and does is certain, which means He says what He means and means what He says. He does not fail, forget or falter. 

2 Corinthians 1:20 says that “no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ. And so through Him the ‘Amen’ is spoken by us to the glory of God.”

Do you feel hopeless in your  circumstances? Dwell much on the promises of God. Stand on God’s promises—and do not let yourself be moved because God is faithful!

[viridianstarlight]

Do you know who you are?

To the world these days, or at least my generation and younger, personal identity matters a whole lot to people.And to these same people, your identity can be whatever you want it to be.

You are identified by your gender, and they say your gender can be whatever you want on any day.

You are identified by your sexuality and relationship status.

You are identified by the colour of your skin.

You are identified by your job.

There’s more, but I think you get the idea.

So in the eyes of these people, I am male, straight and single, white, and a cafe worker. But I don’t really think that describes ‘Cory’.

But we Christians have a different view of identity. Here’s what the Bible says about who we are.

Psalm 139: 15-16 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

To start with, God knows exactly who you are. He knows everything there is to know about you. So if anyone can show you who you are, it is God.

1 John 3: 1 See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know Him.

We are called God’s children. We are adopted in to the King’s family.

Romans 8:16-18 Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in His sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.

By being adopted in to the King’s family, we are made co-heirs with Christ, sharing in His sufferings and glory.

Isaiah 43:1 But now, this is what the Lord says— He who created you, Jacob, He who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

We belong to God.

Romans 6:6 This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe.

Thanks to Christ’s death and resurrection, our faith in Him clothes us in His righteousness and redeems us of our sins. God looks upon us and sees the perfection of Christ.

Ephesians 2:10 For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

God is perfect, and so is everything He creates. God does not make mistakes. You are His masterpiece, the crowning reflection of His perfect creativity.

1 Corinthians 6:19 Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God?

Your body is a holy space where God dwells.

Ephesians 1: 4 Even before He made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in His eyes. 

God created the world in the first chapter of Genesis, and even before then, He knew you perfectly and has loved you perfectly since then.

1 Corinthians 12: 27 Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.

You belong as part of something greater than yourself, and you cannot function to your greatest potential separate to the body.

You were created to do things that other parts of the body cannot do, and you were created to benefit the body just as other parts were created to benefit you.

1 Peter 2:9 But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.

You are a royal priest of the King. In the old testament, only the high priests could enter the holy of holies within God’s temple. But we, belonging totally to God and being chosen by Him, can enter the presence of God at any time.

And this is all thanks to Christ leaving heaven to become a man, taking our sin to the cross and dying in our place, taking our judgement, and in return sharing His righteousness with us.

Do you know who you are? God does.

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

". . .and [Ossë] was pardoned and returned to his allegiance, to which he has remained faithful. For the most part; for the delight in violence has never wholly departed from him, and at times he will rage in his wilfulness without any command from Ulmo his lord. Therefore those who dwell by the sea or go up in ships may love him, but they do not trust him." - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, "Valaquenta"

@ainurweek day 3 ⇢ OSSË

[ID: an edit comprised of four posters mainly in shades of grey-blue and tan.

1: Eli Yeung, a singaporean model with light skin and long dark hair sitting on a beach. He is wearing a white robe open over a grey shirt, and looks somewhat seriously past the viewer. White text in the center of the image reads "ossë" in all caps with a line underneath; below the line smaller text in a different font reads "maia of the sea" / 2: The rigging and furled sails of a small or medium-sized boat. White and blue text in the bottom right corner reads "Ossë is a vassal of Ulmo, and he is master of the seas that wash the shores of Middle-earth. He does not go in the deeps, but loves." The text is framed by a vertical white line and a large, semi-transparent quotation mark / 3: Ocean waves crashing against rocks. Same format as Image 2, but the text is located in the upper left corner, and reads "the coasts and the isles, and rejoices in the winds of Manwë; for in storm he delights, and laughs amid the roaring of the waves." / 4: A pale arm, shown out of focus, extended in front of the sea. Same format and text as Image 1 //End ID]

[angeltreasure]

Hello, if possible, may you please pray for me?

I seem to have such wicked thoughts about God- they last for a second but it's enough to worry me because I should never have such thoughts regarding our Lord

I love Him so much but I despise such dark thoughts, please pray that such dark thoughts go away

Psalm 91

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,

my God, in whom I trust.”

Surely he will save you

from the fowler’s snare

and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his feathers,

and under his wings you will find refuge;

his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

You will not fear the terror of night,

nor the arrow that flies by day,

nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,

nor the plague that destroys at midday.

A thousand may fall at your side,

ten thousand at your right hand,

but it will not come near you.

You will only observe with your eyes

and see the punishment of the wicked.

If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”

and you make the Most High your dwelling,

no harm will overtake you,

no disaster will come near your tent.

For he will command his angels concerning you

to guard you in all your ways;

they will lift you up in their hands,

so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

You will tread on the lion and the cobra;

you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

“Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;

I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.

He will call on me, and I will answer him;

I will be with him in trouble,

I will deliver him and honor him.

With long life I will satisfy him

and show him my salvation.”

[faithfullyfound]

Don't Put God On Hold

Recently I've felt far from God. I feel like my testimony is a series of highs and lows. Moments when I'm full of the Holy Spirit and moments when I'm full of my flesh. Recently I've been very worried about what college life will entail. I'm worried that I will fall victim to sin or that I'll miss out on "college milestones" as a result of my being a Christian. I'm worried I'll be labeled as weird prudish or even judgemental. However, it is silly to be worried about things that have not even happened. As I began to be worried I stopped reading my Bible, began listening to sinful music again, and giving in to my other common sins.

Despite all of this God was still close by. He hadn't left. I kept seeing reels about Jesus. I kept hearing those around me at Church spread the Gospel. And I kept wishing to feel the love and peace I felt when my heart was on fire.

Today it was through reading Colossians 1:13-20 that I saw the centrality of Christ not only in my life but in the universe and existence itself.

13 For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. 15 The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. 16 For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. 17 He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18 And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. 19 For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, 20 and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.

Christ has never left me ever since I committed myself to Him. I know that I am overburdened by my worries and that I often am lazy when it comes to my faith. I tend to not read my Bible for weeks and then go crazy reading scripture and repeat. This cycle occurs because I continue to give in to the same sins. The same fears. The same sadness. By pushing Him to the back I've pushed myself over the edge. God is my strength. For HE IS THE BEGINNING. HE IS MY BEGINNING AND ENDING AND EVERYTHING. I cannot live without Him. My time away from Him (evident in my absence in positing) has shown me that even when I'm far from God I'm still thirsting after him because he is the only one who satisfies.

Colossians 1:9-12 is a prayer for spiritual strength, knowledge, and wisdom of God. I pray this over myself and over every one of you who reads this. Know that God loves you and once you commit to Him even in your worst times He is just waiting for the moment for you to reach out to Him.

 9 For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you. We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, 10 so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, 11 being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, 12 and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light.

[godslove]

Dear Anon,

Beloved, when was the last time you read the Bible, prayed to God and basked in His presence for at least 30 minutes? Some pray and stay in God's presence for up to 4 hours. It's possible. I want to quote a man of God when he said that “I have never seen a man of God with a strong prayer life and reads the Bible/the Word of God that doesn't have peace.”

Why do you feel that way? Why are those the thoughts you think? There are 3 voices that we hear:

God

Satan—the enemy, spirit of the anti-christ, the devil, the one who fell from heaven/the fallen, the evil one (this is a long topic for another post. Read Revelations 20:7-10 to know his destiny in the end times.)

The flesh—the corrupted, sinful nature of the devil mixed with the pure body that God created. In Genesis, man took the sinful nature when Adam and Eve gave into temptation.

‭¹⁹ “Now the works of the flesh are evident, which are: adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lewdness, ²⁰ idolatry, sorcery, hatred, contentions, jealousies, outbursts of wrath, selfish ambitions, dissensions, heresies, ²¹ envy, murders, drunkenness, revelries, and the like; of which I tell you beforehand, just as I also told you in time past, that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.”

—Galatians 5:19-21

We have to pray to cast out demons and its whispering lies of gaslighting, slander, gossip, condemnation, self-hatred, self-doubt, hatred towards others, deception, depression and fearfulness. Sometimes the thoughts we hear are not ours. The emotions we feel are not from God. It's either the enemy or the flesh. The flesh grows or shrinks depending on how much you feed it or starve it. It's the part of you that always wants more and complains or blames other people when you don't get what you want.

‭“I say then: Walk in the Spirit, and you shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh. ¹⁷ For the flesh lusts against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; and these are contrary to one another, so that you do not do the things that you wish.”

—Galatians 5:16-17

God only gives us a spirit of power, of love and of self-control. Anything other than that is from Satan.

We pray with faith in God's power:

¹⁴ Now this is the confidence that we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. ¹⁵ And if we know that He hears us, whatever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we have asked of Him.

—‭1 John 5:14-15

We lift up our burdens to Him and lay them all at His feet. When we pray, we let it all go and let God be God. Our loving Father will always give the best for His children.

The answers you are seeking are in the Bible. When I read the Bible, He reveals to me the answers I seek about everything in life. When I asked for deliverance, He was faithful to deliver me when the pain was too much to bear.

And He said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for You. Take this cup away from Me; nevertheless, not what I will, but what You will.”

— Jesus Christ, The Prayer in the Garden, Mark 14:36

There is purpose in every suffering dear. Sometimes the pain we experience can be excruciating but sorrow that brings you closer to God is better than comfort that pulls you away from Him. Don't look at others and say that “God has favorites” because we don't know the personal problems they are going through which we have no knowledge of. We all have our cup of suffering. Followers of Christ are not free from the winds of trials and tribulations, especially in this earthly life.

The more you walk closer to God, the more the enemy tries to pull you away from God either via pleasure (the worldly temptations) or pain (problems in all areas of life). If that happens, pray to God and stand firm in your faith.

“Trust in the Lord, and do good; Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness.

⁴ Delight yourself also in the Lord, And He shall give you the desires of your heart.

⁵ Commit your way to the Lord, Trust also in Him, And He shall bring it to pass.

⁶ He shall bring forth your righteousness as the light, And your justice as the noonday.”

—‭Psalms 37:3-6

God answers prayers dear. Your heart posture has to be right first. When you pray, approach His throne with thanksgiving and praise. Remember the sacrifice Christ has done on the cross for each and everyone of us, God's children. Remove the shame and guilt because ‘it is finished’. When you are already purified from sin, grateful and peaceful, that's when you can ask God to help you bring yourself closer to Him and experience His loving presence. He is always with us dear, He longs for His children to come to Him. Listen only to God's voice.

‭“But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. ³⁴ Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

—Jesus Christ, Matthew 6:33-34

If you have prayer requests kindly send them so I can pray for you. If you have questions, I'll answer them as best as I can. I read it all. It's alright dear. I'm here. And so are the rest of our brothers and sisters in Christ who walk this journey with you. God bless you! *Hugs*💐🤍

[lamemaster]

The Soulless One (Part 2)

Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

Genre: happy ending (Yay!)

Word Count: 2k-ish

Summary: Giving away your soul for a bloody battle? Pfft, you were fucking in for good.

AN: I tried. I'm sorry. Can we just ignore the cannon fea dynamics and roll with this? Please 🥹

Part 1 |

You pin him to the bed that creaked dangerously for an Elven creation. "Is this not enough?" You pull him closer by his collar. "These stupid braids, talking in riddles elegantly like you wanted, enchanting eyes, birthmarks right under my lips, and for so long I haven't allowed a damned curse to fall on these lips." And for once you can hear his heart clearer than ever. A skip in his beat that your human senses couldn't have caught.

But your own heart beats louder than him. "Is this not enough? Do you know how uncomfortable it is to dwell in a body my soul can never accept? And you...you never came looking for me. Did you not feel a pull in your soul?" You hold back the tightness behind your eyes that threatens to spill your tears at any given moment. "What else must I do my lord?"

Much to your annoyance, he stays quiet. And then it happens. In a flick of the moment your fist meets his cheek and you stare at the elf beneath you. A blooming bruise covers his face and a throbbing pain pulses in your fist. "Fuck!" You bunch up your gowns and rush out of the room which to run back to, just to drop ointment before running to your grandmother.

“I messed up,” you follow behind Melian who seems to be taken by the task of watering the garden, uncaring of your heart’s inner turmoil. “Can you hear me grandmother?!” You snatch her watering can blocking her path. 

“You did nothing wrong,” Melian replies with her unnervingly wise eyes boring into your soul. “Son of Feanor needed that wake-up call.” Of course, she knew! Nothing escaped your grandmother’s eyes. 

“I punched him!” Now you were not the one to not trust Melian, you weren’t repeating your grandfather’s mistakes. “How could he be fine with that? He probably thinks I am the same old brute.” You, much to your annoyance, find yourself watering the plants in her steed.

Melian had always known your truth. The half-human soul in your body that clung to the memories of your past life and your entanglement to the eldest son of Feanor. 

Perhaps, your soul that matched that of her daughter’s endeared you to her. Or maybe it was just a simple fondness for her grandchild. But you saw it in her gaze, a longing unfulfilled by you. Luthien Tinuviel lived in her mother’s eyes even ages past. 

Even now, parts of Tinuviel remain as your grandmother shakes her head fondly, “Nothing ever is unchanged honey, even the winds that brush the shores come back bearing brine in them. So how is it that you expect yourself and Maedhros to remain unchanged?” Plucking a swaying Lavender your grandmother tucks it behind your ear. “Love will come to you, General. Have faith.” Like a prophecy, her words imprint themselves on your heart.

Jumping into the blazing pits of his end, Maedhros had expected agony worthy of his crimes. It was supposed to be an end deserving of the likes of him. He did not wish for an existence beyond repenting the crimes of his acts. It was fitting for someone like him.

Yet, surrounded by devouring flames of his own choice, Maedhros felt nothing but a soothing stillness. It was wrong. He reached out his hand to feel the burn only for the cool sensation to ward off the flames with his movement. 

He knew. He had known it all along. Even in death, his General would stand by him. A soul so fierce that even the flames of Earth’s chasm could not diminish it. 

That could be the reason that Maedhros smiles softly before he closes his eyes. In the end, you found him. No…you’ve always had him. It is now that he can accept it free of the burdens of his life. 

Surrounded by you, Maedhros closes his eyes. His death is easy. It is most peaceful. He is undeserving of it. But it is a present he accepts. A courting present, he has accepted ages later after it was offered.

All that is left is to relay his reply. To tell you, that he is yours.

Reborn, Maedhros finds himself in the land of bliss. Surrounded by his brothers, mother, cousins. All who marvel at his recovery from a death so painful. 

He returns with a complete soul and a remaining fragment of you, that made it to his rebirth. All he has to do is wait. Maedhros awaits your return. Something that will come to pass no matter what. Because his General, never backs from promises. 

And when you do return, he will kneel to you and beg for the affection you once vowed to him. He will offer his heart, his soul, and his body which is now unmarred from the scars of the past. 

But what Maedhros did not expect was to encounter you, on the shores of Alquanlonde, dressed in finery, speaking with the tact of a skillful diplomat.

A form brighter than any other. The radiance of Maia blood was not unhidden. Such was to be expected of the daughter of Daeron, and the granddaughter of Melian herself. He knew it to be you, yet you were so different from the General of his past. 

His heart stutters at the first instance of your eyes meeting his. But he looks away from the glimmer of recognition in your eyes. Even the fragment of your soul, he possesses seems to remember its owner.

But Maedhros’ heart drowns in the waves of dilemma. 

His love for the General was warm, cozy, humble despite its depth. Yet, the person who now stood before him was different. 

His own words of the past where he jested with you, revolve in his mind.-

"Someone more refined perhaps…Someone who restrains from cursing after every other word…Enchanting eyes, long braided hair, a beauty mark or two placed by their lips, elegant nose, supple lips-".

He remembers them well. And it was as if, his General had taken every single word and made it real. 

But he is no longer worthy of a love like that. He wasn’t worthy back then and he isn’t now. A sinister part of his heart had bargained your human imperfections as a bargain for his own insecurities.

But now that too was lost to him. 

That is why he reigns his heart and lowers his eyes from you. At war with his own desires, he avoids, the one he had promised to confess to.

He does well until you find him.

It is then that he sees the spark of the past. His General who pinned him to bed, who cursed, whose hands were no less than ones of Tulkas' Maia.

His General, who does not remember to offer him ointment despite even as she rushes out of his room embarrassed.

You almost cringe when Maedhros shows up in front of you with a bruise on his face. Why were you heavy-handed even as an elven princess was beyond you…but when he asks for a private conversation you, follow him thinking of ways you could make up for how you had treated him.

Trying to ignore the wayward vine that rested on Maedhor’s head, you prepared to apologize as you should have done hours ago. Closing your eyes you push yourself in a bow, “Iamsorryishoudn’t-” your words pause when Maedhros’ speech interrupts you. And for once you let him speak as you straighten from your bow.

“I did not want you to ever think that my love for you is a result of this form or beauty.” Maedhros sighs. “I may have said things…but I loved you back then, and I love you now. How can I not love you?” He chuckles as if the thought was of fleeting mirth to him. 

“A woman reckless enough to give her soul to me, how could I not give her my heart?” His hand tentatively cups your face and you let him. “I was scared that my acceptance of this form would undermine the General. That it would make you feel less about the woman I have loved. But that is not true. And hurting you was never my intent.” His eyes look down in shame, you never intended to subject him to his hand falling down from where it rested on your cheek. 

“I let you die without ever caring for you. I have been nothing but selfish in return for your selfless affection. I treated you poorly for a crime you never committed. I always desired you but never held myself accountable to be worthy of being desired by you. Even now my heart is full of cowardice. Despite vowing to wait for you, I could not even summon the courage to look you in the eyes once I found you.” much to your surprise, the mountain of an elf kneels at your feet with his head bowed to the ground. “I am flawed. Greedy and self-serving even in my love. How can I ever ask more of you?” His hands fall emptily next to him in defeat. 

“Maedhros,” you try your best to avoid an overly sentimental choked up voice. Instead you crouch next to him gripping his slumped shoulders, that seemed unnatural for someone as prideful as him.“You are a fucking fool of an elf.” You tilt up his chin and look into his eyes. “Since when did love become a trade? When did it become so tangible as to weigh it in our actions?” Your thumb caresses the tilt of his jaw as you find yourself spilling all that had been left in your heart. 

“Even as a human General, I knew that my love for you was enough. I did not need to measure it with sweet gestures or sickeningly sweet words. I knew that I was born to love you and on the battlefield, I found out that I would die to love you. It is a fate I have chosen of my free will.” It is not for the first time that you marvel at the innate Elven skill to make up the poetic declarations out of most simple conversations. 

“I have forced the hand of doom itself to join me to you. So who are you to deny me?” You could not stop the smug smirk forming on your face. Arrogance, too perhaps was an Elven trait. 

Like an obedient pup, Maedhros sits in front of you, leaning into the touch of your palm. “You make me into a pathetic elf, General,” much to your surprise Maedhros’ voice cracks as you swiftly wipe the tears on his face. “But I am nothing but an absolute wretch without you. How unfair is that.” With a broken sob, your beloved pulls you into a hug.

And by the fragrant gardens of your grandma’s palace, you found love again. While being pretty sure, that she could very well be listening to your idiotic words but you allowed it. She deserved the show after being a part of it. 

And that is how, you a General from the East, became the first one to create a soulmate of your choice.

[luniibelieves]

God Saved Me

Looking back, it's incredible to consider how much turmoil entered my life through those who opposed me, challenging my faith. I've faced many trials, but it was only a few months back that I was hit with intense depression. The combination of being overworked, facing deceit, lies, and the loss of a loved one all at once was overwhelming. One day, this culminated in a panic attack while I was in the back room at work. Suicidal thoughts started creeping up on me. Telling me, "Everything will be easier if you just end it here and now."

But that "end it here and now" wasn't the conclusion of my tale. With every ounce of breath and strength remaining, I clasped my hands together and prayed.

"God, I'm struggling to breathe. Father, I beg you. Help me to breathe. Lift this weight from my chest so, I may breathe freely once more. In Jesus name I pray, Amen."

As I wiped away my tears and took a deep breath, a profound sense of relief swept through me. The weight on my chest lifted, freeing my breath once again. It was as though the chaos had never happened. I was surrounded by a sense of freedom, peace, and comfort. God not only eased my pain but also sent someone to my workplace. Coming up from behind, she tapped my shoulder gently and said, "I don't know what you're going through, and there's no need to tell me, but may I pray for you?" Looking up with hope, I agreed, "That would be lovely." She hugged me close and prayed aloud in front of my boss, my coworker, and other clients, as I found myself weeping on her shoulder. This marked the beginning of my complete faith that God was present, saving and protecting me. It was at that moment I chose to dedicate my life to Christ.

Since that time, my life has overflowed with joy, peace, and happiness, even though the enemy occasionally tempts me to revert to my old ways. As I strive to draw nearer to God and strengthen my relationship with Him, I witness more of His blessings in my life. No number of thank-yous or hallelujahs could adequately express the glory of His amazing presence. His love, patience, kindness, grace, mercy and so much more are unparalleled. All I can offer are my stories and testimonies of the greatness he has brought into my life, with the promise of more to follow.

The client who prayed for me left a Bible scripture to help me through life's trials and struggles, which I will share here for anyone in need.

Psalms 91:

"Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely, he will save you  from the fowler’s snare  and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday. A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you. You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked. If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,” and you make the Most High your dwelling, no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. You will tread on the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent. “Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.”

[orthodoxadventure]

I don't usually do this sort of thing but its sort of an All-Hands-On-Deck situation. Please pray for the mother of my friend, She was diagnosed with cancer some time ago, but it has since spread to her brain.

Of course I will pray, may God bless her and provide her with healing and comfort. And may God also bless and comfort those family members, friends, and all those that know her who are also in pain and anxiety because of her suffering.

Under the Readmore, I have attached some prayers for those with cancer that you might find to be helpful. I would especially recommend looking into some of the Patrons associated with Cancer patients and asking for their aid. For example St. Parthenios, St. Nektarios, St. Panteleimon

Through Your illuminating and sanctifying Spirit, Lord, guide through medical science those who are seeking through studies to exterminate its wickedness, reveal to them the medicine and the way of healing, and grant strength to those who are suffering and patience and respite in their pain, rewarding them all with the healing of their soul and body, through the intercessions of our Most-blessed Lady the Theotokos and Ever-Virgin Mary, the Life-Giving Spring, whose waters in the Queen City were poured over those who were sick with cancer and their suffering ceased, as well as those of our Holy Father Parthenios, Bishop of Lampakos, the holy, glorious and wonderworking Unmercenaries, the holy, glorious Great Martyr and Healer Panteleimon, and all Your Saints. Amen.

--

O Most-Pure Mother of God, O Queen of All! Hearken unto our much-afflicted sighing and look upon thy children, suffering from unhealed ailments, who fall down before thee with faith! As a bird covers its nestlings with its wings, so do thou now, who art ever present, cover us with thy greatly healing omophor in that place where hope be. There where bitter sorrows overcome us, there will patience and rest be revealed. Where the torment of despair dwells in the soul, there will shine the ineffable Light of Divinity! Console the fainthearted, strengthen the weak, bestow softening and enlightenment upon embittered hearts. Heal thine ailing people, O All-merciful Queen!

Bless the minds and hands of our physicians, that they might serve as instruments of the All-powerful Physician, Christ our Saviour. We pray that thou mightest truly live with us, O Sovereign Lady!

Stretch out thy hands, filled with healing and cures, O Joy of the sorrowful, Consolation in afflictions, that having speedily received miraculous help, we may glorify the Life-creating and Undivided Trinity, the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, unto ages of ages. Amen.

--

O Christ, Who alone art our Defender: Visit and heal Thy suffering servant [name], delivering her from sickness and grievous pains. Raise her up that she may sing to Thee and praise Thee without ceasing, through the prayers of the Theotokos, O Thou Who alone lovest mankind.

--

Lord have mercy. O Lord Almighty, the Healer of our souls and bodies, You Who put down and raise up, Who chastise and heal also; do You now, in Your great mercy, visit our sister (Name), who is sick Stretch forth Your hand that is full of healing and health, and get her up from her bed, and cure her of her illness.

Put away from her the spirit of disease and of every malady, pain and fever to which she is bound

If she has sins and transgressions, grant to her remission and forgiveness, in that You love mankind.

Yea, Lord my God, pity Your creation, through the compassions of Your Only-Begotten Son, together with Your All-Holy, Good and Life-creating Spirit, with Whom You are blessed, both now and ever, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

--

O Lord our God, Who by a word alone did heal all diseases, Who did cure the kinswoman of Peter,

You Who chastise with pity and heal according to Your goodness;Who are able to put aside every sickness and infirmity, do You Yourself, the same Lord, grant aid to Your servant _____________and cure them of every sickness of which she is grieved.

Send down upon them Your great mercy, and if it be Your will, give to _____________ health and a complete recovery;  for You are the Physician of our souls and bodies, and to You do we send up Glory: to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Both now and ever, and to the ages of ages. Amen

--

O God, our help in time of need, Who are just and merciful, and Who inclines to the supplications of His people.

Look down upon ____________and have mercy on them and deliver them from the trouble that now besets them.

Deal with ____________ not according to their iniquities, but according to Your manifold mercies, for we are the works of Your hands, and You know our weaknesses.

I pray to you to grant ____________ Your divine helping grace, and endow them with patience and strength to endure their hardships with complete submission to Your Will.

Only You know our misery and sufferings, and to You, our only hope and refuge, we flee for relief and comfort, trusting in Your infinite love and compassion, that in due time, when You know best, You will deliver ____________ from this trouble, and turn their distress into comfort.

We then shall rejoice in Your mercy, and exalt and praise Your Holy Name, O Father, Son and Holy Spirit, both now and forever and to the ages of ages.  Amen

[autumnshighlady]

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 14)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Reader and Azriel have a talk, Nesta discovers Eris’ secret

warnings: Night Court slander, semi graphic torture, Rhysand is horrible

word count: 7.1k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: IM BACKKKKKK!!!!!! SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! This is some of my worst writing but I love the concept so here ya go, I hope this was worth the wait! More action coming soon, chapter 16/17 are gonna be HUGE!!!!!! x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 /

read on ao3

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READER POV

You didn’t know how long it had been since Rhysand left you bloody and strung up in the cell. In some ways, you were grateful that the past while had been a blur. Your memory was a haze of flashes of searing pain, Rhysand’s voice in the background demanding you reveal the bond to him and admit the details of your conspiracy against his court. Yet you did not break, even as those tendrils of dark power carved into your already open wounds.

Despite not being able to feel her on the other side of the bond, Nesta was what got you through it. The thought of her in Autumn, far away from the Night Court’s reach, made you grit your teeth and fight the urge to crumble in front of the High Lord. You closed your eyes and pictured the eldest Archeron sister wandering through the paths of the woods, brilliant leaves of red and gold falling around her and landing on the soft grass. Her creamy skin adorned in a soft emerald dress, that golden-brown hair trailing down her back, finally free. You pictured her happy, content in her new environment. With Eris.

Even in your half-conscious state, you wondered how well the two were getting along. While the Inner Circle thought the Autumn heir was a cruel, sadistic bastard, you always knew Eris as your best friend’s older brother… the aloof, sarcastic male who would attempt to charm you to piss off Lucien. You never told Lucien, but every wink Eris had sent your way made butterflies swarm in your stomach. Eris was clever, a good intellectual match for Nesta at least. You had faith in her to be able to navigate the Autumn Court politics. After all, she had been raised to be a perfect courtier. Why the Inner Circle wanted to ignore that and make her into a warrior instead was mind-blowing. Even Lucien, who was incredibly skilled at negotiating and getting along with other courts, was treated like trash by the Inner Circle.

You missed him terribly. It had been months since you had seen Lucien, who was reportedly dwelling in the human lands now. You suspected he was being fed lies by Feyre and Rhys about your involvement in their court. No doubt their version of the story told a tale that painted you as the obedient female who eagerly immersed herself into the Night Court, grateful to be given this chance.

The eerie quiet of the cell was broken by the rush of air in the corner, the soft sound itself deafening against your pounding head. You couldn’t recall the last time you drank water, your throat dry as sandpaper. You didn’t lift your head up, for the weight of it was too much for your neck to bear. You did nothing, just accept the fact that Rhysand had returned for another crack at you.

But it was not Rhysand’s sneering voice that muttered, “Mother above.”

“Az…” Your voice was raspy and almost unrecognisable as you lifted your chin up. The spymaster stood before you, eyes widened slightly. His jaw was tense, and there was something about his expression you couldn’t decipher.

When he didn’t say anything, you tried again. “Please… help….”

“What happened?” He asked coldly, his shadows swirling around him. You flinched as they approached, drifting towards you like Rhysand’s mist had. The action didn’t go unnoticed. Azriel blinked, the only indication of surprise he was likely to give. Still, you could see it in his eyes as he put the pieces together. Not once had you ever flinched from the shadows that hovered around him. Until Rhysand’s own likened darkness had cut through your skin like butter.

“Water…” You mumbled. For a moment, you thought Azriel was going to ignore your request and continue to just stand there staring at you. But after what appeared to be a moment of contemplation, the spymaster pulled out a small canteen and unscrewed the lid. With his scarred hands he lifted it up to your lips. Your entire body sagged in relief as you eagerly drank the water, taking as much as he would give you. After downing about half of the liquid, Azriel stepped back.

“Thank you.” You said, voice clearer this time now that your dry throat had vanished.

“Rhysand did this to you.” Azriel said more as a statement than a question. After training with the spymaster for months, you could read him a bit easier than before. There was something behind his expression, revealed by the widened eyes and tensed jaw, that made you think whatever Azriel had expected his High Lord to do in his interrogation of you, this was not it.

So you nodded, and the tears that had been pooling in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. You hated crying in front of Azriel, or anyone really. But you were too tired to hold your tears back. Days in this cell, tortured without food or water… It was too much.

“Gods,” Azriel muttered, running a hand through his tousled locks. “When Rhysand told me he wanted to interrogate you himself, I didn’t expect…. this.”

You choked out a laugh. “Why does it matter to you anyways, Azriel? You were willing to send me to die on an impossible mission. My fate here is really no different.”

Azriel stiffened visibly, brows narrowing. “How did you–”

“Does it matter?” You interrupted bitterly, twisting your wrist around in the chain to try and relax the stiff muscles.

“You know if you want any shot of getting out of here, you’re going to have to tell the truth.” Azriel growled, his voice dropping. “You’ve been hiding things from me this entire time, and I’d like to know what. And why, starting with how you knew about the confidential mission to the continent before I even told you.”

You laughed again, a hollow, bitter sound echoing throughout the cell chamber. You were beyond caring at this point. No matter how you answered their questions, or if you answered them at all, there was no escaping the fact that telling the truth or not, you would not make it out of these dungeons. “You don't understand,” You retorted. “It doesn’t matter how I know. Telling you how will not change the fact that neither you nor Rhys will let me out of here anytime soon.”

The shadowsinger folded his arms, his cold gaze unblinking. “You do realise that if you want me to help, you’re going to have to be straight with me.”

It killed you that you couldn’t tell Azriel what was really going on. Some part of you yearned to, hoping that he’d finally get his head out of his High Lord’s ass. But you couldn’t shake how he just left you in here with Rhysand. Rhys apparently has his claws so deep in every member of the Inner Circle, it would take a lot more than a few months of training one on one with the spymaster for him to change.

“Please, just…” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you hung your head, ashamed. “Kill me. Get it over with.”

You heard him scoff. “I am not going to kill you.”

“You basically were by letting me be sent to die on the continent.”

“Damnit, (Y/N) I was trying to help you!” Azriel snapped, his tone rising.

You froze as you were lifting your head up. “What?”

Azriel rubbed his face with a scarred hand, leaning against one of the rocks that jutted out from the wall. He looked exasperated, the weariness on his face visible even in the dim lighting of the cell. “I was trying to find a way to get you out of the mission.” He said. “I told Rhys it would take months, years even to get you ready for that level of assignment. He did not listen. I spent those four weeks trying to find a way for you to escape, to get out of here.”

Your mind reeled from more than just exhaustion. Azriel had been trying to help you this whole time? He may not be brave enough to put his foot down to Rhysand, but had enough sense to try and get you out of this mess.

He continued. “I was trying to set up refuge for you, in a village far south on the continent. You’d have been safe there, if you laid low. I would have told Rhys that my spies reported you were killed.”

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask. “Why lie to him for me? He’s your high lord.”

“Yes. And he always will be. But that does not mean I am not allowed to have my opinions on the way he handles some matters. It is unfair to drag someone into this line of work who does not want it, and it is even more unfair to send them on assignments they are not ready for.”

You chose your next words carefully. “You know why he did it, right?”

Azriel only stared at you, saying nothing.

“He wants me dead,” You whispered. “He wants me dead and you know it. That’s why he arranged the mission-”

“No,” Azriel cut you off, his voice sharp. “He was desperate for another spy, and could not send me. Braillyn would have expected that. You were the best one for the job, because they don’t know you. He just didn’t understand that you weren’t ready.”

You shook your head, heart sinking at Azriel’s denial. He wasn’t stupid, some part of him had to know the truth – that Rhysand wanted you dead because your defiance of him could cause unrest, even more so if you were plotting against him. Which you were. The first big step had been a success, getting Nesta out of the Night Court in a way that, by the law, prevented them from coming after her.

There was much more you had in store for the Inner Circle, but only time would tell if you would be able to pull it off. None of which would happen if you did not escape this cell.

“That’s not true, Azriel.” You said. “I wish you would see it. He knew I wasn’t ready, but if I died then he wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore. But if I somehow survived then he’d get the intel he wanted.”

The spymaster’s glare hardened. You shrank back slightly as he propped himself upright once again and stalked towards you. Large wings flared slightly, a menacing sight as he asked you firmly, “I will ask you this one more time. How did you find out about the mission?”

You didn’t answer, wondering if he was going to try and carve answers out of you like Rhysand had. Azriel had likely done such a thing countless times, perhaps in this very cell. Your wounds were crusted over and raw, fae healing abilities diminished in the darkness of the prison.

“It was Eris, wasn’t it?” Azriel said after a few minutes, bitterness and disappointment lacing his voice. “That’s why he proposed to Nesta, and why she insisted on you coming with them. It was part of a plan, wasn’t it? A plan for you and Nesta to escape.”

You did not bother confirming nor denying it, any defiance you had long ago wilted. Half your body had gone numb, and the other half ached beyond belief. You could feel yourself slipping further and further away, a discouragingly slow descent towards death. It was almost worse than the torture itself, being so close to death’s arms embracing you and carrying you to freedom, yet not quite there yet.

“Why?” Azriel asked sternly, taking your silence as an answer in and of itself. “Why would you want so badly to leave? To take Nesta away from her family?”

Bitterness coursed through you, igniting a fire in your voice. “If that is truly how you see it then you won’t even try to understand.” You hissed at him.

Azriel perched himself atop one of the rocks in the corner, those massive wings folding in. He shrugged, arms folded. “Humour me.” He challenged dryly.

These moments were crucial, you knew. It was your chance to either convince Azriel to help you, or to seal your fate and be locked in here forever. The choice weighed upon your already heavy shoulders like a rock. Rhysand would likely return soon and Azriel would disappear again, along with this one chance. And so you chose.

“Nesta will never be part of the Inner Circle, and you know it.” You said. “All you guys have done is try and muzzle her, control her, make her docile enough to sit quietly alongside you at the table but never truly be a part of everything.”

“We were trying to help her–” Azriel interrupted, but you quickly cut him off.

“By forcing her to train? Do something she never wanted? There are many ways to help someone, Azriel. This method may have worked for you and Cassian, but it is not for everyone. Nesta was hurting after the war, and all she received was judgement. You lot consume a bottle of wine every Friday night at Rita’s, but when Nesta does it, suddenly it’s a bad thing? You’ve all slept around, but when Nesta does it, she should be shamed? You have all held her to an impossible standard and refused to give her time to heal. But none of you ever cared about her healing, only how she made you look. You’ve done exactly to her what Tamlin did to your High Lady.”

You expected Azriel to argue, to fight back in defence of his found family. But he merely stared at you, eyes unreadable. You took it as a sign to continue.

“Nesta is drowning in the Night Court.” You said, locking eyes with the shadowsinger. “She will never be accepted here, and being a warrior is not what she wants. You are not stupid, Azriel. You know this. Feyre has found her new family, and that is fine. Let Nesta find her own. Please, just let her go.”

The eerie echoes throughout the cell were the only sound for the next few minutes. Your gut churned at Azriel’s reaction to your rant. He had said nothing, made no defence nor an agreement. That was almost more nerve-wracking to you.

“You see much of yourself in Nesta, do you not?” Azriel finally spoke, unfolding his arms. “That’s why you resorted to involving Eris to help get Nesta out. You have known him for as long as you’ve known his little brother, so you went to him for aid, did you not?”

“Yes.” You muttered. You didn’t have it in you to deny anything anymore. With what you had already admitted, Azriel would figure everything out on his own. You just hoped that Nesta had solidified her position in the Autumn Court quickly enough to prevent a war from breaking out.

“And he was at the meeting where Rhysand discussed sending you to the continent,” The spymaster continued, hazel eyes gleaming in the darkness. “So that’s how you knew. And you came up with the idea of marriage to get Nesta out, did you not?”

“Yes.”

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Azriel stood up, once again looking down at your withered form. “That plan involved a clean way out for everyone except you. Why? Were you wanting to get sent to the continent to die?”

“It is because she loves Nesta.”

The arrogant voice of the High Lord filled the room, chilling your bones. Your entire body went stiff with panic, and even Azriel’s eyes widened as Rhysand appeared from behind you. Clearly, he hadn’t expected his brother back so soon.

The sound of footsteps and a dark presence was all your senses noted as you closed your eyes, feeling Rhysand walk around you to stand next to Azriel. You couldn’t bring yourself to open them, to look into the face that had sneered as tendrils of dark mist tortured you for hours.

“Good job, Az, you got her to talk!” Rhys clapped Azriel’s stiff shoulder, shock still evident on the spymaster’s face. “She said a hell of a lot more to you than she did to me. But I don’t recall ordering you to interrogate her. Unless my excellent memory is wrong, of course.”

Azriel straightened his spine, glaring at the High Lord. “You didn’t,” He said plainly. “But seeing the results of your last meeting with her and how little information you gathered, I believe it best you leave the rest of it to me.”

You finally opened your eyes, greeted by the practically feline smile of the High Lord. He bore a triumphant look on his face, one that made your body shake with nerves. Somehow, he had heard almost everything – Azriel’s shadows not even detecting his presence. Deep down, you knew that you were never getting out of here now.

“No.” Rhysand said. “You’ve done enough. You can carve her up all you want and nothing will make the magic mark appear, so I don’t need you for this next part. You are dismissed, Azriel.”

Unlike before, Azriel stood his ground. “No,” He growled. “As your spymaster, it is my job to be involved in these things. I am staying.”

Rhysand merely shrugged, showing no signs that he cared about his brother defying him. “Suit yourself. But you are not to intervene, do you understand?”

“Intervene with what?”

Rhysand hummed, taking a step towards you. You flinched as he brought his hand up, taking one of your tangled locks and pushing it behind your ear. An act so seemingly gentle, filling you with more fear than you had ever known.

“You look famished, darling.” He crooned, stroking your ice cold cheek. “If you show me the mark that allows you to communicate with Nesta, we can get you a nice hot plate of food and some water.”

With your mouth no longer dry, you gathered up as much saliva as you could manage and spat in the High Lord’s face. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Azriel’s jaw drop open slightly at the action, and you almost laughed.

But Rhysand only chuckled, wiping your spit off his face before standing back up to his full height. “I may not have been able to get into your head before,” He said. “But now that you are weakened, I will be able to break through your shields.”

Searing pain shot through your skull and you screamed. Those dark tendrils that had sliced your flesh before were now in your head, scraping down your shields like nails on a chalkboard. The pain was unlike anything you had experienced, the worst migraine of your life times a hundred.

Through the screaming, which you weren’t sure if it was in your head or out loud, you could hear Azriel’s muffled voice in the background. “Stop it, Rhys,” He was protesting. “You’ll kill her.”

Rhysand ignored him, continuing to try and force his way into your head. It felt like the entire force of the sea had come crashing down on your skull, pushing and pounding in every direction in search of a crack. Your entire body shook, the pain from your physical wounds nonexistent in comparison.

“This isn’t right.” Azriel was saying. “I will get her to talk, just stop this. She’ll never trust us if you keep doing this.”

“I don’t care about her trust.” You heard Rhysand say, his voice both in your head and echoing throughout the room. “Once I get into her head and get what I need, she will be of no more use to us. Then she’ll be your problem.”

The sensation of white hot needles pricking into your head took over, and you let out a wail. It was a thousand times worse than before, especially in your starved state.

Please, You begged the Mother, or any gods out there. Please kill me. Grant me this mercy and end it.

Amidst the pain and your screams, a warm sensation brushed your shoulder, like someone’s hand was grasping it in reassurance. You can do this. It seemed to say, in a voice so familiar yet like nothing you had ever heard before.

“What are you saying?” Azriel growled.

The High Lord’s next sentence was all you heard before darkness overtook your vision. “When I am done, I need you to kill her, Azriel.”

NESTA POV

The smell of a freshly made breakfast sandwich and tea roused Nesta from her sleep. As her eyes crept open to meet the golden glow of the sunrise, she became rapidly aware of the presence lounging beside her. Nesta’s vision focused after a few blinks, a male with red hair coming into focus.

Instantly, she shot up, wincing as the pounding headache she apparently woke up with protested. “What the fuck, Eris?” She practically yelled, bunching up the bedsheets to cover her nightgown.

“Ah, finally you’re awake!” The prince said casually, as if he was not laying next to her sleeping form with his head propped up against the bed frame. “Half the day has gone by already while you slept.”

“It’s sunrise, asshole.” Nesta hissed furiously, wishing she had a dagger nearby to stab him with. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“Exactly,” Eris quipped, turning to the next page in the book that he was currently reading. “And no, watching you sleep is rather boring. Especially when you snore. Besides, this novel is way more interesting.”

Growling, Nesta snatched the book from him after noting it was a smutty romance one she had snuck from the library and was currently reading. Eris smirked knowingly, making Nesta’s cheeks burn. “I did not take you for a romance novel type of female,” He purred, arrogantly reaching up his arm to rest behind his head. “Especially ones with such erotica.”

Nesta gave him a hard shove, unbalancing him. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

Eris chuckled, raising his hands in mock defenselessness. “But I brought you breakfast! Am I really not allowed to bring my loving fiancé breakfast in bed?”

She shot daggers at him with her eyes. “Your loving fiancé is going to murder you before the wedding if you don’t get out within the next fifteen seconds.”

Eris sighed in defeat. “I do not know what I did to deserve this type of treatment from my future wife.” He muttered in obvious sarcastic pity, but climbing off the bed nonetheless. Nesta crossed her arms over her chest, cursing inwardly at the headache that plagued her. If she had better control of her magic, she’d send a stream of silver fire after Eris’ ass on his way out.

It had been one week since the dinner with Beron where she was granted one month to train her powers, and every day had been the same routine. Get woken up before the sun has even risen, ride Diadoro and Calypso to a remote clearing in the forest about an hour away, try over and over again to follow Eris’ instructions only for either nothing to happen or absolute catastrophe. The day usually ended in an argument, either about training, Eris’ progress in finding you, or where he was on his plan to dispose of his father. And then followed by a very silent ride back to the manor.

“Meet me by the lake in 10 minutes.” Eris called out as he shut the door, leaving Nesta to eat the breakfast laid across the tray. She groaned, rubbing her eyes and wishing for just an hour of rest.

Sleep hadn’t been coming easily lately. Every night was the same dream – Nesta running around a dark maze with walls of stone, trying to get to you. She could hear your screams as if they were real, echoing throughout her head whenever she was left alone with her own thoughts. Eris insisted he was doing everything he could to find you, but the more time passed the more worried she got. Every day Nesta woke up, she was plagued by the aching in her chest.

In record time, she managed to consume half of her breakfast and get herself dressed. The outfits Eris had always prepared for her were admittedly perfect, and today was no different. A forest green gown with gold buttons up the front, and a subtle dark pink trim. Nesta had no idea where Eris was pulling these gowns from, but she didn’t complain as she slipped on the comfortable material.

Eris was waiting with Calypso and Diadoro, the creatures tacked up and ready to go. Calypso was pawing at the ground impatiently, as if she had been waiting a while.

“At last she graces us with her presence.” Eris called out as Nesta approached hurriedly. It had taken her an extra few minutes to get ready, as her hair did not cooperate in its usual cornet. For the first time in Autumn, Nesta had simply pulled her golden brown locks back into a simple braid before hurrying out the door.

“You said ten minutes, I took fifteen, get over it.” She snapped, taking Diadoro’s reins from Eris’ outstretched hand. “Besides, I needed a few minutes to recover from the fright of looking at your face the first thing waking up.”

Eris chuckled. “A sight to look forward to after our wedding day, my dear.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, climbing into the saddle as Eris held the stirrup in place for her. He had insisted Nesta get used to riding, something she had protested at first. But admittedly, it was fun, not that she’d ever admit that in front of Eris. As the Prince got on Calypso’s back, the pair and their horses headed off through the path they had taken every day for the last week.

It was a scenic route, the Autumn hues throughout the forest bringing Nesta a sense of calm that she had never quite found at the Night Court. She was no longer always cold, bones chilled by the crisp night air that seemed to somehow be present during the day, even though none of the Inner Circle seemed to feel it. She only wished she could share this stroll with you.

After about twenty minutes of riding, Nesta decided to change things up and break the usual silence that they rode in. “Where are you with your search for her?” She said quietly.

“Well, my spies are convinced she is still somewhere in the Night Court.” Eris responded cautiously, his voice flat.

“So why can’t we go back and get her?” Nesta pressed as they continued to ride through the trees.

“Many, many reasons,” Eris said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Firstly, you know that the High Lord and the brute would snatch you up immediately. You would never get out after that. Secondly, neither of us knows the terrain. The Night Court is large, and she could be anywhere. It is not easy to pinpoint exactly where she is out of the dozens of places she could be.”

“Eris, every night I have the same dream. I’m running through an underground maze of stone, with walls of black rock. And I hear her voice. And you’re saying this doesn’t help at all?”

The Autumn princeling sighed, halting the horses. “Correct. Because the Night Court has hundreds of mountains, all of which could be harbouring some underground dungeon. So no, it doesn’t help.”

Deep down, Nesta knew he was right. She tangled her fingers in Diadoro’s mane to soothe the sea of worry churning within her. “Why did we stop?” She asked after a few moments.

Eris turned to face her, his eyes serious for once. “Nesta, I know how badly you want to find her. I do too. But with how well hidden and warded the Night Court is, not to mention remoteness, it is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. And if the magic from your bond can’t reach her, I’m afraid I’ve done everything I can.”

“No.” Nesta refused to believe it. You had been her anchor to this earth for months, her reason for keeping her chin up and moving through the relentless stormy sea it seemed she was destined to wade through.

Eris’ voice was gentle. “Nesta, you are immortal now. You have a long life ahead of you. Clinging onto this will only hold you back.”

“Easy for you to say,” Nesta shot back, not caring how deep her words cut. “You don’t care about anyone. Must be no problem for you to just drop people once you’ve gotten what you want.”

For the first time since she had known him, Eris’ face fell slightly. Regret washed over Nesta immediately at the hurt flickering in his amber eyes. Insults were part of Nesta and Eris’ routine now, but this…. She knew she had gone too far.

“Do you truly think so little of me?” Eris asked, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. There was no trace of the arrogant prince she had grown used to.

“I just…” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t know what to think anymore. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

“I know. And I’m doing my best to get things back on track, but it’s proving almost impossible.”

Nesta swallowed the familiar lump in her throat that indicated tears were going to begin welling up soon. “I know.” She said before coughing and regaining her composure. “Anywho, you were the one insisting we were late. Let’s get going.”

Before she could move Diadoro forward, Eris turned Calypso to the right and headed off the path. “We’re doing something else today,” He called out. “Follow me.”

Nesta didn’t have to do anything, as Diadoro was already following the white horse off the path, expertly stepping over roots and branches in his way. “Where are we going?” She demanded.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Tell me.”

“That would ruin the surprise.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do. Keep moving.”

Nesta huffed, but didn’t protest. She had never been on this route before, and the further they got the rockier it was. Trees grew sparser, and the soil became harder. The journey reminded Nesta of something from one of the fantasy books in the library at the House of Wind, and with a pang she thought about Gwyn and Emerie.

She wondered how her disappearance had been explained. Most likely, they had been told that Nesta was kidnapped by Eris or something. Nesta missed them terribly – Emerie’s snorting laughter, the way Gwyn’s eyes would light up as she explained something in her research, how they both took an instant liking to you.

“Eris?” Nesta asked about thirty minutes into their trek.

“Yes, my fearsome goddess?” Eris singsonged over his shoulder in response.

“Can I bring my two friends to Autumn?”

“I did not realise you had friends other than (Y/N) in the Night Court.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, I do. I met them at my training, and…” Her voice trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it without seeming weak. Nesta had never needed anyone before, but the lack of Gwyn and Emerie’s presence in her life lately was beginning to weigh on her.

“You miss them.” Eris finished her sentence for her. “Once I am High Lord, we can invite them to come here.”

“For a visit?”

He shrugged. “Or to stay permanently, if that is what they wish.”

Nesta’s heart fluttered with excitement at the idea. She knew Gwyn would love it here certainly, once she got used to it. Emerie too, who would be relieved at being miles away from her vile family. “I’ll hold you to that, Eris.” She said sternly.

“Consider it one of the many wedding gifts I shall spoil you with.”

Nearly two hours later, Eris finally halted Calypso and got off. It was the longest ride Nesta had been on thus far, and her inner thighs ached. Luckily, the prince was already reaching up to grab her waist, lifting her out of the saddle with an impressive amount of strength.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, cheeks red with embarrassment before asking, “Where are we?”

There was nothing notable in her surroundings, save for a rocky cliff that loomed above them a few metres ahead. Calypso and Diadoro had pressed their noses to the ground in search of grass amidst the sparsity.

“All will be revealed.” Eris winked, then extended his hand. He glanced up at the cliff, and Nesta crossed her arms.

“I am not scaling that cliff.” She said sternly, causing Eris to chuckle.

“I would not make you, certainly in those skirts,” He said. “We’re winnowing up there.”

“You know I hate winnowing.”

“Fine, if you’d like to climb it then I’ll see you in a few hours–”

Nesta quickly grabbed Eris’ hand, cutting him off. It tingled against her own, like electricity in her veins was jumping out to meet his own. She ignored his smirk as the world went askew and the ground fell away underneath her feet.

A split second later, they stood atop the cliff. The wind immediately whipped across Nesta’s cheeks, but it was not cold. Oddly enough, it was warmer up here, like the very rocks they stood on were heated. The colourful forest spanned across the horizon, bright with the now late morning sun. Nesta’s braid whipped in the wind, coming undone within seconds.

“I’ve been keeping this from my father,” Eris said, turning away from the edge of the cliff and walking away, leaving Nesta to follow. “A secret weapon, if you will.”

Nesta hurried to catch up, her long strides matching his own. “A weapon to kill him with? Up here?”

Eris chuckled, shaking his head. “No, between you and me we are perfectly capable of doing it ourselves. This weapon will help solidify me as the High Lord and prevent other courts from going to war with us. And I think it will help you with your magic.”

Nesta halted, dread forming in her stomach as she thought of the last few magical weapons she encountered. The mask, that took away everything she felt and made her raise an army of the dead. The Cauldron, that stole her humanity away from her and turned her into a creature she had grown up learning to hate and fear. The thought of something else like that made her knees go weak.

“It’s nothing like the Cauldron, I swear to you.” Eris said calmly, as if reading her thoughts. “Come, I promise it’s something entirely different.”

After a second of hesitation, Nesta resumed following Eris. They walked further and further, approaching a large mountain with a cave entrance that was bigger than anything she had ever seen.

“Are we seriously going down there?” Nesta gaped. The closer she got, the warmer the air was. It sang to the silver flames within her, and she felt them dance.

“Yes.” Eris said, igniting a flame in his hand in place of a torch before entering the darkness. Not wanting to lose the light and be stranded in the dark, Nesta followed. They walked down the large cavern, and the further they went the more her power begged to be let out.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Eris asked, pausing at the bottom of the slope they had just crawled down. “Like calls to like, Nesta.”

Eris’ flame didn’t illuminate much, but by the way their footsteps echoed, Nesta could tell whatever chamber they were in was large enough for a small city. “What is this place?” She asked.

As usual, Eris continued his lecture and neglected to answer her question. “You fear your power too much, Nesta, because you haven’t seen anything like it. You are letting your fear control you, and you need confidence if you are to wield your powers in a manner that impresses my father. There are many fire-wielders in this world, Nesta Archeron. Yours may be different, but you can learn from others. And not just me.”

Nesta took in a sharp breath, the taste of smoke and ash on her tongue. “This secret weapon…” She said slowly. “It’s not a ‘what’.... it’s a ‘who’.”

Eris nodded, his pale face a striking gold in the light of the flames. “Do not be afraid.”

Before she could ask what he meant, a low but fierce growl vibrated throughout the chasm. It quaked her bones, and the floor began to tremble with what felt like the footsteps of a large creature. And then another, and another.

Nesta trembled as they grew louder, but refused to shrink back. She would not be a coward, not in front of Eris, even as whatever weapons Eris had approached them. The prince stepped forward, lifting up his flaming hand and illuminating the dark space a bit more to reveal not one, but three massive, scaling heads.

The heads of dragons.

The one in the middle had onyx scales, barely visible within the darkness. Its head was only illuminated by its glowing amber eyes. The one on the right was almost as big, but it had golden scales and larger horns on its head. And the one on the left crawled opposite from Nesta, a shining shade of silver with a longer neck. Each beast exuded sheer power and might, the space in the enormous cavern almost too small for their bodies.

Time seemed to slow down and stop as the three dragons approached, the orange glow from their mouths and bellies lighting the chasm. They were a thousand times bigger than a horse, almost the size of an entire palace.Nesta gawked, and her magic began to thrum excitedly at the beasts. Realistically, her instincts should have screamed at her to run before she was burned to ash, but she felt none. No, Nesta was rooted to the stone in fascination and awe.

Eris approached the black dragon, who lowered its head and growled. For a second, Nesta thought it would simply devour Eris whole. But instead, it let out a crooning noise and pushed its nose into Eris’ flaming palm. He began murmuring to the dragon in a language Nesta didn’t recognize, and the beast purred in response.

Her fixation on Eris with the dragon was broken by a low growl, and she flinched as the silver dragon snaked its head towards her.

“Summon a flame.” Eris instructed, still stroking the snout of the black dragon, despite its head being twenty times his size.

“What?” Nesta said, still frozen in place as the dragon crept towards her.

“Just do it.”

She raised a shaky hand, taking a deep breath. She tried not to think about the size of the dragon’s teeth approaching her as she reached down and grabbed a hold of a silver tendril of her power.

Yes please! It seemed to cry. Let me out to play. Let me make new friends.

Just as Eris had taught her, a ball of silver fire began to dance in the palm of Nesta’s hand. The dragon paused, lowering its head even further towards her hand. Nesta tensed up, but her flames had other plans – they flickered in the direction of the dragon, almost as if they were excited to greet it.

The silver beast made a low rumbling noise in response, and pressed its nose into Nesta’s hand, just as the black dragon did with Eris. She gasped, expecting her flames to burn the creature’s nose and cause a wake of destruction, yet it did not flinch from her fire. Its eyes met Nesta’s, and she felt as if her very soul was being gazed into, as if the dragon could see every raw, vulnerable part of her. The scales were smooth against Nesta’s slightly shaky hand, hotter than the warmest coals yet they did not burn her. Her flames danced along the scales, exploring the dips and horns of the dragons’ head. But it did not seem to mind, only continuing to gaze into Nesta’s eyes.

For a moment, she was overcome with emotion. The sensation of touching a creature so mighty, so powerful, one that she thought only existed in the stories she read. But then she, too, was now a creature that existed in storybooks. One that was admired for its beauty yet feared for its power, much like the very beast before her. It looked at her with such understanding, such intensity Nesta felt like she could both crumble on the spot and conquer the world at the same time.

“Her name is Athariel,” Eris’ voice broke her out of her trance. “I figured you’d like her. The one with me is Morgoth, and the golden one is Zorzimril.”

“I…” Nesta swallowed her emotion, tentatively stroking the dragon’s scales. It made a purring sound, the silver flames dancing around it excitedly.

“I found their eggs here just over a century ago.” Eris explained, his voice echoing in the chamber. “I thought they were rocks. There were rumours of dragons existing at the beginning of the world, but the last rumour comes from the wild hunt. No proof of them existed, until I found the eggs. No amount of research helped me figure out how to un-petrify them, until I felt them call to me. I used my magic and lit the hottest fire I could manage, placing the eggs inside them. A few hours later, they hatched. I’ve been raising them in secret for almost 150 years, training them. They are my secret weapon.”

“Like calls to like…” Nesta murmured, observing how her silver flames played with the dragon, who remained unscathed.

Eris smirked, patting Morgoth on the cheek. “Exactly. I have bonded with Morgoth, and I figured you and Athariel would be a good match. You can learn a lot from her, and she can help you conquer your fear. From everything I’ve learned over the past century, they’re loyal beasts. If you bond with her, she will defend you fiercer than anyone in this realm.”

The thought of this powerful creature looking out for Nesta made her overwhelmed with emotion. Maybe they were both seen as monsters by the rest of the world, but they could face it together, if Athariel let her. Nesta thought back to all the times she felt true fear – at the Hewn City, Illyria, the battlefield, there was no trace of that now. Somehow, she felt safer with this dragon than she had in the Night Court.

Nesta glanced at Zorzimril, the golden beast. “What about her?”

Eris sighed, resting his shoulder against Morgoth’s head. “I had hoped that with (Y/N) here, she would bond with her. It seems like fate, does it not, Nesta Archeron? Three of us, three dragons. I am not particularly religious, but it seems the Mother has set this out for us. Zorzimril is the reason I still have hope that we will find (Y/N).”

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[talonabraxas]

The Great Invocation

From the point of Light within the Mind of God Let light stream forth into the minds of men. Let Light descend on Earth.

From the point of Love within the Heart of God Let love stream forth into the hearts of men. May Christ* return to Earth.

From the centre where the Will of God is known Let purpose guide the little wills of men – The purpose which the Masters know and serve.

From the centre which we call the race of men Let the Plan of Love and Light work out And may it seal the door where evil dwells.

Let Light and Love and Power restore the Plan on Earth.

*Many religions believe in a World Teacher, a “Coming One”, knowing him under such names as the Lord Maitreya, the Imam Mahdi, the Kalki Avatar and the Bodhisattva. These terms are sometimes used in versions of the Great Invocation for people of specific faiths.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

The Inklings Challenge Stories I Didn't Write

The Lake Queen: When my time travel story wasn't coming together, I brainstormed a secondary world story about a woman returning to the place where, centuries ago, a great kingdom was flooded. Her son was the rightful king of this land, and she'd been called to return to one of the islands in this area and rebuild some type of chapel/temple. The central part of this temple was some kind of Ark of the Covenant type artifact that was lost in the underwater city. Only the rightful king could touch this artifact without dying, so after several years of building a home and chapel on this island, she had find enough faith to send her child on this extremely dangerous quest alone. It was very Abraham and Joseph, but there was also a huge component of this woman developing relationships with the locals on the island, who distrusted these outsiders, but eventually came to trust her as she taught them about the old history and culture and religion. It felt, unintentionally, so much like The Wild Robot that I hesitated to write it. Anyway, the time travel story did come together, and since this idea was much more of a novella than a short story, I gave up on the idea of writing it for the Challenge.

The Mermaid Story: Reading one of the Epistles got me thinking about apostolic evangelization, and this story unfolded very quickly in my imagination. It centers around a mermaid who's the highest-ranking wife of a powerful lord within an extremely wealthy sea-dwelling culture. She goes to the underwater dungeons to visit a human prisoner--to ask him how he can possibly still be alive. He was trying to preach to the merfolk and angered them so much that they tried to drown him, but he finds himself miraculously able to breathe underwater. The man insists he's not alive by his own power, which leads to him telling the mermaid about his message of salvation. The mermaid is extremely educated in science and philosophy and can't resist engaging with these new ideas, that seem both wise and foolish. Anyway, she starts to befriend this guy as her husband keeps trying to torture/kill him, and this starts to endanger her political position (especially since her husband has an ambitious young new wife), until she finally has to decide to give up everything to help this human in his mission. This is another story that probably needed to be a novella. I considered writing it as a short story, but in that case the religious element probably would have come across as way too preachy, so I had to let it fall to the side.

The Lady Knights: A few pictures I saw during my September brainstorming process made me develop a world where lady knights ride on giant insects as they protect the realm. I would have loved to write a short story about this concept--any one of the themes could have provided inspiration--but I just couldn't come up with a plot. I think it would have worked best as a portal fantasy, anyway, with a timid young girl learning courage from these women.

The Reading Room: A time travel short story about a guy who has access to a library that, at a certain time in the evening, brings together people from across different points in time. It would have had a kind of ghostly but cozy vibe, and would have been about the C.S. Lewis concept of escaping the biases of your own time period by reading books of the past (and the future, if we could get them). I didn't have enough of a plot to write a story with the concept (aside from a vague idea that a very "modern" person could meet the MC and get book recommendations from the future that challenge their biases). I could have maybe gone for an atmospheric flash fiction sketch, and maybe I still could, if I could find the right angle.

Shadowstruck: When I was trying to think up secondary world ideas to replace my faltering time travel story, I got intense inspiration for a few scenes in Shadowstruck that came to me so vividly I felt like I had to write them. I did write a scene, thinking that maybe I could pull together a couple of scenes that could work decently enough as a standalone short, but it took more time than expected and needs some more development, so I decided to wait to give this story the time and space that it needs to develop into the fully fleshed-out version. But I still love this story idea and the inspiration keeps coming, so it's definitely going to be my main focus for a while.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Friend of Sinners

by J.C. Ryle

“We should notice how tenderly Christ speaks of the death of believers. He announces the fact of Lazarus being dead in language of singular beauty and gentleness: ‘Our friend Lazarus sleepeth.’ Every true Christian has a Friend in heaven, of almighty power and boundless love.

He is thought of, cared for, provided for, defended by God’s eternal Son. He has an unfailing Protector, who never slumbers or sleeps, and watches continually over his interests.

The world may despise him, but he has no cause to be ashamed. Father and mother even may cast him out, but Christ having once taken him up will never let him go. He is the ‘friend of Christ’ even after he is dead!

The friendships of this world are often fair-weather friendships, and fail us like summer-dried fountains, when our need is the sorest; but the friendship of the Son of God is stronger than death, and goes beyond the grave. The Friend of sinners is a Friend that sticketh closer than a brother.

The death of true Christians is ‘sleep,’ and not annihilation. It is a solemn and miraculous change, no doubt, but not a change to be regarded with alarm. They have nothing to fear for their souls in the change, for their sins are washed away in Christ’s blood.

The sharpest sting of death is the sense of unpardoned sin.

Christians have nothing to fear for their bodies in the change; they will rise again by and by, refreshed and renewed, after the image of the Lord. The grave itself is a conquered enemy. It must render back its tenants safe and sound, the very moment that Christ calls for them at the last day.

Let us remember these things when those whom we love fall asleep in Christ, or when we ourselves receive our notice to quit this world. Let us call to mind, in such an hour, that our great Friend takes thought for our bodies as well as for our souls, and that He will not allow one hair of our heads to perish.

Let us never forget that the grave is the place where the Lord Himself lay, and that as He rose again triumphant from that cold bed, so also shall all His people.

To a mere worldly man death must needs be a terrible thing; but he that has Christian faith may boldly say, as he lays down life, ‘I will lay me down in peace, and take my rest: for it is Thou, Lord, that makest me dwell in safety.'”