#the lights went out that night and there was an unsuccessful assassination attempt on one bartemius crouch senior

[one-awesome-beetle]

'me and the devil' by soap&skin but its barty having to attend a ball with his father, where the prestigious Black and Rosier families will be present - except he's under the imperious curse

[omgrachwrites]

After Forever - Prince Hal

Pairing: Prince Hal x Reader

Summary: A year after your marriage to Hal, you reflect on all the adventures you’ve had together and wonder whether his abdicating of the Throne was the right thing to do.

Warnings: fluff, lil bit of angst, mentions of death

Words: 1342

A/N: This is the sequel to 'Her Prince', thank you so much @emmamooney for requesting! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx

Soft perfect light filtered through the thicket of trees as you waded through the long grass with your husband to reach the top of the hill. The light washed over Hal’s handsome profile, causing him to glow like a fallen angel and it caused you to gape at him as your chest filled with love and awe. He must have felt your gaze burn into his profile because he looked at you, trying and failing to hide the smile on his face.

“What are you thinking of my love?” he chuckled as he pulled you close and kissed your cheek.

You smiled up at him, “you, I’m always thinking of you,” it was true, even for that year that he’d been away from you, you had thought of almost nothing else.

A few months after Hal had abdicated the Throne for you, he had had an attempt made on his life, which made you feel extremely guilty. The would be assassin was angry that Hal had given up the Throne and thrown England into disarray. As a result of this assassination attempt, the both of you stowed away on a ship headed for Italy. The people of Italy didn’t much care that an English prince had given up his rule, so the both of you were quite safe.

Shortly after, you and Hal got married and after a few unsuccessful tries, you discovered that you were expecting your first child. You and Hal were able to live a comfortable life due to the money you had earned in England and Hal was able to make off with some of his inheritance.

Hal cupped your cheek and kissed you lovingly before he sat with his back against a tree trunk, pulling you in between his legs. He wrapped his strong arms around you, resting a protective hand on your round stomach, “I love you, Y/N,” he kissed your cheek and you could feel his smile.

“I love you too, my darling,” you beamed as you watched the sun set over the hill, turning the sky from a perfect, cloudless blue to a misty pink colour.

Hal’s soft fingers weaved through your hair, gently untangling the knots, “is everything alright, Y/N? You’re quiet today, what’s on your mind?”

With a sigh, you turned to face him and found his gorgeous blue eyes looking into yours, you smiled at him as you cupped his cheeks, feeling the roughness of his growing stubble beneath the pads of your fingertips.

“I’m just thinking that it was over a year ago that you abdicated the Throne for me.”

Hal nodded, polite interest on his handsome face, “yes, my love. What’s your point?”

You busied yourself with pulling up blades of grass, “if it wasn’t for me, you’d be the King of England right now, instead the Throne is being passed around Europe like a collection plate. Was this whole thing worth it?” a couple of months ago, you’d gotten word that Hal’s father had died and despite the fact that he hadn’t been close to his father, Hal didn’t talk for days.

Hal rested a gentle hand on your chin, “Y/N, look at me,” he whispered lovingly and you glanced up at him, your eyes filling up with tears, “my angel, you and our child are the best things to ever happen to me. If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t do a thing differently. I love you, Y/N, I would never want to be King if you weren’t beside me as my Queen. We’ve got a good life here and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You sniffed, your cheeks feeling wet, you had no idea when you had started crying, Hal kissed your forehead as he wiped the tears from your cheeks, “I love you too, Hal.”

Hal grinned and pulled you into his chest, “then let’s talk no more of the past, I brought you here so we could watch the stars, it’s a clear night, my love,” and so you did, you threw your arm across Hal’s stomach and watched the stars, listening with delight as Hal told you every story he knew behind each constellation.

Years Later….

The tension was so thick in the bumpy carriage that you could cut it with a knife as you glared over at Hal. You couldn’t believe him; he could be putting your whole family in danger.

“Is everything alright, mother?” your beautiful 17-year-old daughter, Isabella asked as she glanced up at you from the book she was reading.

With a tight smile, you nodded at Isabella, “everything is well, my darling.”

That was a horrific lie, you and Hal had argued awfully the previous night. The King of France - and now England – had heard talk of you and Hal being alive and he somehow found where you were living. It seemed that in the past 15 years, there was a full scale rebellion in England. The common folk were calling for the daughter of their once beloved Prince Henry, even if you were a peasant.

As a good King should, he listened to his people and had sent for you and Hal to bring Isabella to court to meet his son, Francis. The King wanted to make a love match. You had been very much against it but Hal quickly agreed, his reasoning was that if you rejected the invitation, the King would come after you.

Isabella nodded at you with a small smile as she went back to her book, she was so excited to meet the Prince, blissfully unaware of the possible dangers. Hal had a sorrowful guilty look on his beautiful face that you couldn’t bear to look at. You settled on gazing out of the window at the rolling English countryside. You felt Hal take your hand and he lifted it to his lips to press a warm kiss to your knuckles. You were angry with Hal but you still loved him, you loved him more than anything.

Finally, you arrived in the courtyard of the Palace. As you got out of the carriage, you glanced over at Hal to see him looking up at his old home with a saddened look on his face. You felt awful that he never got the chance to say goodbye to his father.

“Are you alright, Hal?” you muttered to him as you were escorted to the Throne Room by a guard.

A muscle fluttered in Hal’s jaw as he smiled tightly at you, a glimmer of sadness in his eyes, “of course.”

The Throne Room was more beautiful now, there was gold everywhere and portraits lined the walls. Where there was once a wooden floor there was now a wine coloured velvet carpet, leading up to a golden Throne where a smiling handsome older man sat. The sun beamed through the windows, creating tiny little rainbows in the air. The sweet perfume of incense filled the room.

Hal nodded at you and Isabella, and as one you begrudgingly bowed before the King. The King chuckled jovially as he got to his feet and made his way over to the three of you, “please, you need not do that,” he shook Hal’s hand, “welcome back,” he smiled at you and Isabella as he kissed your cheeks and gestured over his shoulder, “may I introduce my son? Prince Francis.”

As you glanced over at the handsome young man, you heard Isabella gasp with delight as the Prince strode towards her and kissed the top of her hand, “charmed, Mademoiselle.”

With a smile, you watched your daughter and the Prince gaze at each other with longing in their eyes. It seemed to be love at first sight, the dread in your heart seemed to evaporate.

Hal pulled you close and whispered into your ear, “are you still angry with me, my love?” he chuckled, pressing a kiss just below your ear.

“You are so lucky I love you,” you laughed, gazing up at him. It seemed like the perfect happy ending to your family’s story.

@ladyblablabla @smiithys

[mightymorphingayagenda]

Nessian assassin au???? X

Much like a circle, or the opinions of men on women’s reproductive rights; this date was pointless.

The reasons for this inescapable fact were listless, but included the following:

1. In Nesta Archeron’s line of work, dating, was like trying to watch the news without getting pissed of. An admiral thing to attempt, but equally misguided and inevitably unsuccessful.

2. Nesta’s suitor was Rhysand brother; meaning he would no doubt be an arrogant, preening idiot with indecently good looks and a whole lot of nothing else going for him by blood.

3. Nesta was already hopelessly and disastrously in love.

Of course Nesta hadn’t been able to use any of these as valid excuses to get out of the date. “Hey Feyre, just calling to say that I know you want me to go on this blind date, but I actually can’t because you see, I’m a gun for hire, which as you can imagine makes dating rather tricky. Also I’m absolutely gone for my latest target’s bodyguard, who I’ve never actually spoken to but in the month and a half I’ve been stalking him has somehow managed to make me fall head over heels for him. Anyway, we still on for brunch on Thursday?”

It truly was a tragic set of circumstances.

Nesta thanked the door-man as he slipped her coat from her frame. Carefully and expertly folding the garment over his forearm and heading to the cloakroom. She’d made sure to give him a considerable tip, knowing her coat was probably worth more than what he made in a month.

Nesta wasn’t ashamed of her money, as far as she was concerned all currency was blood money. Every dollar in America was built on colonialism and funded by a corrupt economic system, she didn’t see why her cash was any dirtier just because she earned it by putting bullets in the backs of people’s heads. But she’d made it practice to always leave generous tips where she could.

Nesta would always remember Friday nights spent counting pennies on a dirty windowsill because it meant they could use the light of the street lamps when their own electricity had been cut off. Her hollow stomach ringing out along side the metallic song of coins with an ache like she’d been punched in the gut.

Now she was rolling in it.

“Comfortable” as Feyre would say.

The Archeron sisters had made good; Feyre having married into the richest family in the west of the globe, Elain with a clientele of elitists gagging to throw their wealth at the most extravagant weddings her sister could plan and Nesta cashing in a six figure transaction ever time she pulled a trigger.

But she wasn’t flashy. Nesta found something grossly immature in wearing wealth obtusely and without taste. This evening she’d opted for a simple dress, a dark emerald thing that reached her mid thigh and hugged her full form with a lethal softness. Bare of any jewellery and hair like dark chocolate loose and softly curled, her makeup had been applied minimally save for her mouth which she had painted a red like cracking blood, leaving her lips like a brutal bruise against her soft complexion.

It was the perfect ensemble for Le Divinità, tastefully expensive so that she did not look out of place in the architecturally exquisite building, the warm glow of the soaring room warming her bare arms and gold detailing and chandeliers with dripping, diamonte glass offset against the kenia cream marble.

While Nesta was set on finding fault in her date, his taste was undeniable. Le Divinità had never prioritised fad-like trend and a costly ambience over good food and a legendary bar.

Heels clipping quietly against the stone floor, Nesta made her way over to said bar, fingers already restless for a cigarette to still her agitated dread at what was to come. She ordered a gin, straight, and checked her phone for the time. She’d made sure to arrive early, primarily to ensure she had time to neck back some liquor before her date arrived, but also because she’d find some small joy in making him uncomfortable having seemingly left her waiting.

Slinking into a bar stool, she tucked her ankle behind the another and taking a long sip of her gin, she couldn’t help where her mind wondered like a cheated lover back to their betrayer. Sickened with her own besotted crush as though it were a thick spoon of honey she were gagging on, Nesta still couldn’t help but think of him.

She’d spent this afternoon atop a rooftop, tortured by the unfolding Friday ritual she could now confirm went unaltered each week.

From noon till four in the afternoon Helion Day would work out in his private gym, located on the top floor of his more frequented office building, with his oh so gorgeous bodyguard.

The soaring glass windows meant Nesta had been entirely unobstructed as the only audience member to a truly delicious show of both men’s physiques. Her binoculars trembling slightly in her hands as she’d watched the CEO’s companion begin completing a gruelling regime of pull ups, bench pressing and combat instruction, all without a shirt. The expanse of his powerfully built upper body was the stuff of Nesta’s dreams. Tan flesh slick with sweat and dusted with fine hair over the broad panes of his defined chest and running in a darkening trail down his chiselled abdomen to disappear beneath the low slung waistband of his sweatpants that made a profuse Adonis belt visible to Nesta. With his thick hair tied back in a bun, intricate tattoos mapping his left pectoral and creeping over his arms and an obvious stubble creeping up his jaw, Nesta hadn’t known where to keep her eyes for longer than a hot moment of agonising appreciation. She knew where her eyes were should have been, but while her client also had his own physical appeal, Nesta only had eyes for one man.

He was so impossibly broad and large it gave Nesta a primal thrill to think of how he could use that brute strength to fuck her as hard and rough as she craved. The impression of his cock through those sweat pants had left Nesta staring at one of her largest vibrators once she’d got home and telling herself that there was no way he could have been bigger, despite what she’d seen implied.

She’d closed her eyes and pictured him beneath her as she’d then rode the pink toy, her cunt throbbing with wet arousal from the hours of visual foreplay. She burned to know what his voice sounded like. Whether he would groan as he fucked her throat with his thick cock, or if he’d murmur filthy words or encouragement and praise. She’d almost given herself a headache trying to fabricate in her mind the noises escaping his mouth as he’d worked out. That rugged jaw clenching in moments of intense exertion and handsome face often appearing as though he were grunting through a movement that Nesta swore would snap any other man in half.

“Nesta?”

A purely male and deep voice sounded from beside her.

She turned, and almost shattered the half empty glass in her hand.

Had it been spiked?

The gin has to have been laced with some hallucinogenic- that was literally the only reality that she would accept being any part of. Because standing before her, was Helion Day’s body guard.

Fuck.

“Do I know you?” she drawled boredly.

He wore a crisp, white dress shirt which hugged his upper body in a way that was doing things for Nesta, and a simple pair of slacks that had clearly been tailored to his powerfully built legs.

She was utterly, truly and absolutely fucked.

What the hell was she meant to do? She’d been made, she’d been fucking made. Three years and Nesta had never made one mistake, hadn’t slipped up once, she hadn’t just done everything by the book she’d all but written the new bloody testament on assassination, so how the fuck had this guy caught her?

“Well you know of me, Sweetheart” his smile was like watching chocolate melt, warm, rich and decadent. A five o’clock shadow was cast across his jaw and an entirely unfair dimple kissed the corner of his mouth as he smirked with a dangerous combination of pure male arrogance and sincere attention.

She played at looking him up and down with a dismissive flick of her eyes. “Unlikely,” she said absently, taking a sip of her gin, her lashes fluttering shut as though she were physically pained by the boredom this interaction caused her. Should she smash the glass and get a deep swipe at his gut, going for the face as he’d lunge at her and then try and make a break for the door? He was at least six foot, and Nesta knew exactly how toned he was, but she was quick.

He clutched a hand to his chest playfully, his eyes still dangerously assured “you wound me” he said, before leaning in ever so slightly so that Nesta swore she could taste the echo of an aged cigar on his breath. “And to think I was arrogant enough to believe it was me you’d got all dolled up for this evening” he winked, plucking a cube of brown sugar from a tiny dish on the bar and popping it between his perfect teeth, a smooth and swoon-worthy smugness set in his jaw that Nesta couldn’t work out if she wanted to punch or kiss off of his stupidly gorgeous face.

“And to think,” she purred sweetly, “I was naïve enough to think I would be able to get all dolled up this evening without an entitled asshole bothering me” Nesta’s glare was cool as the ice that swirled in glossy cubes at the bottom of her glass.

He was toying with her, like she were some amusing doll he’d found and watching her try to wriggle out of this with nothing but a sharp tongue was his new favourite game.

“Well thank god I’m not an entitled asshole, just the very good looking one your sister set you up with. However, if any such individuals approach you, let me know and I will defend both your honour and right to look as lovely as you do without the unsolicited advances of men”

Nesta felt like a party popper had gone off in her rib cage and she was choking on the streams of confetti in her throat, heartbeat off kilter.

There was no way.

Nesta’s life had taught her that the universe did not have a sense of humour, and the only way that her bodyguard heart-throb also happened to be Rhysand’s brother, was if she were the metaphorical punchline of some cosmic joke. An assassin and a bodyguard walk into a bar… god it even sounded like a shitty joke.

“Cassian Velarys” he extended a large hand to her, which Nesta took, slightly entranced by the unfolding madness. He pressed a brief kiss to the back of her palm which Nesta had not been expecting.

“You look nothing like Rhysand” she said.

A light chuckle escaped him and Nesta thought he might need to hold her upright if he kept being so damned sexy.

Rhysand was what Nesta would describe as pretty, with piercing eyes that she refused to admit we’re actually violet, and sharp features cut with classical beauty, while Cassian was a far more devastating kind of handsome where Nesta was concerned. Wilder, throbbing with power and unrefined, rough charm. And older as well she’d guess, but not by much. They couldn’t be related, this could not be happening.

“I’m adopted” he explained.

Nesta could not believe the absolute insanity of this. It was a coincidence of Shakespearean plot; throw in some inadvertent incest or cannibalism and it would have been a Greek bloody myth.

She took a sweeping swig of her gin, chin tossed back delicately enough but still allowing the rest of the liquor to empty into her system.

The most infuriating part of this entire bullshit scenario was that it made total sense. Feyre has told her that Rhysand’s brother ran a security firm, but that at the moment he was doing some private hire work for a friend. Hell she’d even mentioned in passing a few months ago how Helion was an old friend of the Velarys brothers.

Okay, okay so this was happening.

The bartender had appeared again to take Cassian’s order and Nesta couldn’t help but take the opportunity to fawn over that handsome face up close at last. A doe like softness to her eyes that the bartender definitely noticed even if Cassian didn’t, his attention on the wine list as he asked about a Portuguese red. At work he’d always worn black Ts and trousers, the fitted fabric hugging at his chiselled upper body. The man cleaned up nice. Which was saying a lot when his comparatively unkept state was enough to have Nesta worried she might literally be drooling as she observed him. With her cheek propped on her curled fist, elbow against the bar, Nesta couldn’t have dragged her gaze away if she’d had a gun to her head as she watched him finish up his order and added, “And vodka” flicking her eyes to the man behind the bar. “Lots, and lots or vodka”.

[mewwile]

made a writeup for coco’s(corona) backstory and general lore fluff that i ended up kinda liking, so i put it under a cut. its a very clinical rundown of an event that happened.

Velach was a bustling port town, a center of trade situated on the delta where many rivers met the sea. Prior to the queen's death and for many decades, Velach had been the leading merchant haven for miles around- It offered an ideal location for the neighboring city-states and the distant lands across the sea to meet and conduct business. Notably, though the royal line was almost purely chirons, the actual racial makeup of the city was more varied than commonly seen in chiron-led cities- Likely due to the position of being a bustling trade town.

Royal lineage in the kingdom was very strictly traced- All of the bloodline contained an innate gift for magic and usually found themselves pursuing predominantly healing magic. There had been many years of peace and economic growth, with only minor border conflicts that were usually resolved fairly quickly, which created an environment of complacency that led to Queen Rosica eventually taking the throne. Accounts from castle servants who served during Rosica's childhood (with her sister Lora) described the girl as very meek and helpful, almost unable to speak harshly of anyone. Lora, frustrated with her position as 'spare', had commonly been the more rebellious and wild of the two when they were young, having no fondness for her fawned-upon and overly accomodating sister. This dynamic is believed to have contributed greatly to the eventual assassination of Rosica.

For the first 10 years of her reign, Queen Rosica was met with few troubles save for a slight dissatisfaction at her position on the nation's need for self defense- Though the nobles often urged her to keep the borders tightly controlled and to respond harshly to small inter-kingdom conflicts, she held fast to the conviction that Velach had no place for a significant army nor a strong weaponised presence. The public's opinion of her remained mostly positive throughout her reign- Rosica was known to often interact with the common man and assist in healing any who were harmed in service of the throne. Lora, meanwhile, having left the castle as soon as her age allowed, married General Weyland of the royal army. Rumors and speculation posited that Lora had concocted plans to usurp her sister long before the assassination, considering her decision to marry a notable military officer and thus be in close contact with the disenfranchised army presence whom Rosica had deemed unnecessary. Such claims were never confirmed, but Lora was noted to conduct trips to the many provinces where border conflicts often erupted and the local nobles were more receptive to the more radical views of the younger royal sister.

Queen Rosica, during the 5th year of her reign, ended up falling in love with and marrying a traveling desert chiron scholar named Tiras. Considering the many heirs and nobles of neighboring nations were pursuing her hand in marriage, this act was seen as an affront and there was a brief increase in border conflicts, most of which were settled through trade agreements over the following years. Two years later, during the 7th year of her reign, she gave birth to the young princess Corona. Despite urging from her staff, Rosica again defied normal tradition and refused to have a second or third child, instead focusing on raising Corona. The princess was granted much freedom in her education, being allowed to choose what she wished to pursue, which was notable only in that she chose not to nurture her innate magical abilities in any way. This was a stark contrast to almost every previous Velach monarch, who were taught healing and damaging spells equally as a requirement of ascending to the throne- another exception granted by Rosica's loose approach to her station.

In (insert year here durr, 21st year of rosica's reign), Lora made her move against her sister. Lora gained intelligence by means of an unknown palace worker that revealed a habit of Queen Rosica's to take late night walks throughout the castle, often requesting her personal retinue hang back as she was known to have been irritated at the lack of personal time her position put upon her. With this intel, Lora hired an accomplished assassin from the ifreeti kingdom who was able to infiltrate the castle unnoticed- ambushing Queen Rosica in an empty room and successfully killing her. Though Rosica was said to have screamed and a scuffle broke out, her personal guards were too far to make it in time to see the assassin. Attempts at a resurrection were made almost immediately, but after several accomplished clerics tried to bring back the Queen, it became apparent that the assassin had used an enchanted weapon to capture Rosica's spirit, this making her unrevivable.

The kingdom fell into mourning, and shortly thereafter Corona was crowned the new queen as she had just turned 14- the acceptable age at which a princess could become ruler. Though some hoped Tiras would step up to ruling, the king consort denied any appeals and cited Velach tradition that only those possessing of royal blood and the magical affinity of the ruling family were allowed to govern. Queen Corona's reign was shortlived but eventful. Lora did not give up on her quest for the throne, it is believed she pursued many unsuccessful endeavors to likewise assassinate the new monarch. Most notably there was an attempt at a local festival which Corona made a speech in. Luckily Tiras was standing by and, having been a very successful wizard, killed the assassin before any harm could come to the queen. Due to the repeated assassination attempts and the knowledge of her mother's death, Corona's reign had her focus on internal affairs and intelligence within the kingdom. Many of the castle staff had been hired specifically for their ability as spies- a much more cautious and mistrustful approach than her late mother. Keeping track on the nobles was her primary objective, and locating the source of the attacks against herself and presumably her mother was often the driving motivator behind Corona's actions. Noting the chance to sieze some portion of power, the noble houses of Velach immediately set about appealing to Corona with their sons, often plaguing the queen with requests that she host more functions and quickly choose a husband to secure the royal lineage.

The pressure of the nobles and the queen's plans to locate the source of the treasonous element in the kingdom created the perfect environment for the ambitious Sisean Empire across the sea to make a move to capture the trading hub. The emporer of Sisea, Lorathe, was known for his insatiable powerlust and his habit of leading his army in conquering most the notable neighboring cities. Reports show he had been seeking a foothold across the sea for quite a while- even before Queen Rosica took the throne. The chaos of the late queen's death had been the opportunity he had been waiting for, and a fleet was prepared almost immediately.

Having spent almost no time communicating with her distant contacts, Queen Corona was caught unawares when almost a year into her rule she recieved word that a fleet of warships was seen enroute to Velach. Chaos erupted in the castle as Corona with Tiras as her advisor began gathering the meager army of Velach to the capital city and preparing the aged battleships for a conflict. With only two days to prepare, Velach was easily overrun by the Sisean fleet despite their battleships' best efforts at fending them off. Led by Emporer Lorathe himself, the army surrounded the castle and gathered Corona, Tiras, and the staff of the castle into the throne room.

Lorathe confronted Corona and offered a deal- If she could best him in magical combat, he would allow her to live and be a figurehead in her kingdom. The queen's reign had been short enough that intel of her lack in magical abilites had not had time to reach across the sea, and the magical acumen of her predecessors was assumed of her. Lorathe was noted to be an accomplished battlemage and often required such duels of conquered kingdoms, believing his opponents were most entertaining when they fought with their lives on the line. Having no magical training whatsoever, Corona was unable to duel. However, her father Tiras stepped forward and offered himself as a substitute in the duel- a condition which was accepted by Emporer Lorathe.

According to the few surviving staff who escaped, the duel was hard fought and Tiras showed a remarkable expertise with teleportation. Unfortunately, Emporer Lorathe was skilled enough that eventually he was able to catch Tiras unawares with an enchanted sword strike, killing him. Having lost the duel, Corona's life was also forfeit, but during the scuffle, the castle staff who were with the queen had concocted a plan. As soon as the king consort fell in battle, the staff began to attack the soldiers around them and flee enmasse, using bright light cantrips to create a distraction enough for many to escape into the castle at large and spread out to various routes. The staff had split off into pairs of taller races and chirons, thus making it difficult to track the queen from afar. During the escape, Corona was disguised and swapped into a two-chiron pair, which was one of the few who managed to exit the castle. Her escort was a court musician hired for her spying abilities and thus was able to escape the city with Corona safely.

In the aftermath of the coup, Emporer Lorathe ordered for the musician and Corona to be searched for in the entirety of the kingdom, but was unsuccessful in locating them and after a few months gave up the search. Now a part of the Sisean empire, Velach's economy changed overnight. Most trade ships belonging to the local merchants were siezed for transporting supplies from across the sea, and almost all resources of the kingdom went straight to the army. Lora, General Weyland, and many of the noble houses were killed or exiled from the country so as to better control the minor provinces, and a mandatory draft for any able citizens above puberty was instated, leaving most of the farming and crafting jobs to the young or old. Emperor Lorathe did not remain long in the kingdom, opting instead to accompany the newly enlarged army in conquering the nearby city of Farin. Conflicts across the sea in his homeland prompted a return after that, taking with him the large army and leaving Velach economically crippled. In the proceeding decade, Velach's trade has suffered immensely and nearby cities and villages have felt the consequences, some being abandoned outright. The majority of the farms in the kingdom send their crops overseas to support Emperor Lorathe's growing armies, and the capital city itself has been suffering a food shortage and a lack of able workers for most jobs. 3 significant attempts at rebellion were made, but the captain who was stationed as temporary leader of the kingdom was able to overturn all resistance with ease. Current estimations lead many to believe Velach will be unable to sustain itself in a few short years, and many have fled the city to escape the growing poverty. Queen Corona, though she was able to leave the kingdom safely, was not heard of in the 11 years since the coup, and is assumed dead.

[gracedman]

Shame!!!

John 8:3–12

The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery and placing her in the midst they said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So, what do you say?” This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once more he bent down and wrote on the ground. But when they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.” Again, Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness but will have the light of life.”

 I happened upon a video of Monica Lewinsky last night. It is on YouTube, should you care to watch it. I was struck by her candor and description of how her sin brought about a universal onslaught of condemnation and character assassination from the media and the internet. She had an affair with the President of the United States while he was in office. And once caught, everyone took up stones, and hurled them at her. The shame was so deep that she retreated from public exposure for over ten years. Politically, the president’s opponents sought to remove him through the impeachment process. It was unsuccessful. But both parties have branded ever since. Their sin has led to shame. For Monica Lewinsky this emotion has scarred her and never left her. The things said about her in the media and on the internet have affected her deeply.

 Her video is her attempt to create an awareness of the impact that accompanies such exposure online and in the media. She would hope to stop the accusers with their stones and words. But her analysis is woefully inadequate and only skims the human element to the problem. She has no real solution. She stands only as a survivor and not as a real victor. She has been through a hell of sorts, but she is still victimized.

 When Jesus faced such a woman, his response is remarkable. First, he does not soft-pedal the issue of her behavior: “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” He doesn’t say: “We need to change the rules here. We need to be less rigid in our definition of sinfulness.” No, he agrees with the law and with those who call sin for what it is, sin. In our modern society, where godliness is mocked and ridiculed, we are called continuously to have no standards. There is no fear of God in the eyes of many and the herd mentality is to do what is right in one’s own eyes or from our individual perspective. And so, we see a lowering of the bar, legally and morally, in our modern godless society. The only problem is that it doesn’t work. Sin is called sin for a reason: sin is destructive. It destroys the heart and soul of the individual, the family, the church, and the society. God has not called us away from sinfulness because he is a cosmic killjoy. He does so because sin destroys and weakens us as people. Satan as the author and promoter of sin has this said about him. He weakens and destroys the nations:

  Isaiah 14:12–17

“How you are fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How you are cut down to the ground, You who weakened the nations! For you have said in your heart: ‘I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God; I will also sit on the mount of the congregation On the farthest sides of the north; I will ascend above the heights of the clouds, I will be like the Most High.’ Yet you shall be brought down to Sheol, To the lowest depths of the Pit. “Those who see you will gaze at you, And consider you, saying: ‘Is this the one who made the earth tremble, Who shook kingdoms, Who made the world as a wilderness And destroyed its cities, Who did not open the house of his prisoners?’

 The woman caught in adultery in John 8, met the God of all grace and the source of all mercy. Jesus told her: your accusers are gone, silenced. God does not condemn you. So, go and sin no more. Stay away from what got you here in the first place. God has made a provision in his son for us to be forgiven and fully recover from every effect of sin in our lives. He will remove even the memory of the shame, the guilt, and the horror that accompanies sin. He silences the spiritual voices that come to exploit the presence of sin in our lives. No wonder the devil is called the accuser of the brethren:

  Revelation 12:9–10

So, the great dragon was cast out, that serpent of old, called the Devil and Satan, who deceives the whole world; he was cast to the earth, and his angels were cast out with him. Then I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, “Now salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of His Christ have come, for the accuser of our brethren, who accused them before our God day and night, has been cast down.

 Note: Now salvation and strength through the kingdom of God and the power of His Christ have come. Weakness is being replaced by God’s strength in our lives. Shame is being cast out and down. The accusations of our own conscience and the projections from the air, the media and the internet can be cast down as we go forward to possess what God has made available for us in Christ. For Christ fulfills these promises for and in us.

  Malachi 4:2–3

But to you who fear My name The Sun of Righteousness shall arise with healing in His wings; And you shall go out and grow fat like stall-fed calves. You shall trample the wicked, for they shall be ashes under the soles of your feet. On the day that I do this,” Says the Lord of hosts.

 Lord Jesus, thank you that we can get beyond our personal shame. We can see the deep-seated guilt removed. You have finished the work of redemption for us and will finish the work of redemption in us. We can trample upon our enemies because of your power. Amen!!!