#truth is the arrow mercy the bow

[kristipetersenschoonover]

Back to School: Upcoming Can’t-Miss Writing Classes from Almond, ASF

Lately I’ve been feeling restless and wanting to take some writing classes—we all know that, as writers, not only is it like having homework for the rest of our lives, we’re never done learning. I’ve signed up for Steve Almond’s Almond Joy: A Trio of Classes to Kickstart Your Writing courses at Writing Co-Lab below, and wanted not only to share the opportunity out there with our 34 Orchard…

[marsprincess889]

Basic themes of nakshatras

May edit this later, this is as far as I understand and have observed them, and I think it's pretty nice to see them simply.

Ashwini:

Newness, freshness, the unmanifest, speed, energy, vitality, instinct, healing, fast healing, unlimited energy, self-expression, selfishness, blocking outside noise, trusting yourself, self-empowerment, unfiltered actions.

Things that remind me of Ashwini: bees, the sun, horses, two white horses, golden deserts, horses gallopping, honey, long hair flying in the wind, apples.

Bharani:

Love, death, sex, the female, the feminine, limitations, the material, fate, destiny, coming into the body, struggling against limitations, struggling against fate, mind trapped in its own hell because of the inevitable, dealing with the harshness of life, harshness of mothers and mother nature, the hierarchy, privileges and deprivations, desire, going after your true desire, the immortality of the soul, adapting to changes, passion, tragic love, bravery, facing the truth, choicelessness, nessecity, revenge, violence, gatekeeping, reduction, denial of access, conquering your fate, everlasting beauty, immortality, eternal love.

Things that remind me of Bharani: hot pink and black, darkness, roses, the yoni, gateways, keyholes, caverns, boats, rivers, the damsel in distress, fantasy, high fantasy.

Krittika:

Adam, the main character, naming things, language, rationality, precision, sharpness, criticism, the poet, the "it" person, simplicity, cleanliness, expressing oneself, selectivity, the heat, the knowledge, the light, masculine ideals, stoicism.

Things that remind me of Krittika: knives, razors, lighers, sparks, fire, hearth, cooking.

Rohini:

Eve, sugar babies, growth, receptivity, enjoyment, pleasure, unrefined, doted on, subconcious, absorbtion, sharing, union, creation, the youngest daughter, naivete, feeling no shame.

Things that remind me of Rohini: sugar, stickiness, sweetness, heaviness, red, pink, flowers, the A.I(lol).

Mrigashira:

Distraction, realization, fickleness, adventure, running away, chasing, the hunt, excitement, softness, pleasure, altering conciousness, magic substances(iykwim), curiosity, fulfillment, insatiability, teasing.

Things that remind me of Mrigashira: silver threads, deer, green forests, green and blue, running in the woods, alcohol, the moon, Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream".

Ardra:

Disillusion, crying, lamenting, awareness of others, awarness of other's expectations, hyper-awarness of everything, intellect, the rational mind, pressures from society, rebelling against society, anxiety, hunting.

Things that remind me of Ardra: tears, water, storms, technology, teenage angst, emo culture, the rain, sad songs, dogs.

Punarvasu:

Mercy, forgiveness, permission, freedom, flying, expansion, gentleness, regrowing, realigning, returning, home, unconditional love and nurture, celebration, peace, peacefulness, centering oneself, sunlight, warmth, fostering, taking care, being taken care of, luck, unlimited fertile space, shelter, genuine kindness, believing in humanity again, cycles, patterns, seeing the cycles and the patterns, prophecies, the oracle, openness, second (and third, fouth...) chances, a comeback.

Things that remind me of Punarvasu: staying at home, pets, plants, cats, gentle rain, a bow and arrows, a target.

Pushya:

Asceticism, routines, self-restraint, servitude, control, self-control, working, working on yourself, patience, simplicity, striving for perfection, nurturing, nourishment, quiet ambition, symmetry.

Things that remind me of Pushya: milk, milkmaids, country life, milking, symmetry, goats, sheep, agriculture.

Ashlesha:

Manipulation, abuse, poison, emotional abuse, blackmail, resorting to everything for safety, protection, pent up energy, the nervous system, purity, water, sensitivity, cleanliness, energetic build-up, tension, restraint, preservation, self-preservation, virginity, feminine tactics, being "mean" for protection, lying for safety, sensuality, mother issues, agitation.

Things that remind me of Ashlesha: the color white, transparent things, cats, poisoning, snow white, Sofia Coppola films, teenage girlhood, ties, strings, knots, snakes.

Magha:

Royalty, power, ancestry, family trees, history, the past, regality, honoring the past, honoring the elders, honoring the authority, religion, tradition, customs, confidence, ego.

Things that remind me of Magha: crowns, thrones, churches, goth culture, smoke, big hair(like the lion's mane).

Purva Phalguni:

Pleasure, enjoyment, being spoiled as the feminine, loving to spoil as the masculine, procreation, sex, leisure, art, holidays, parties, exclusivity, pride, charisma, sexual dispersion, love as a method of self-expression, admiration, directness, active pursuit of your passions, indulgence.

Things that remind me of Purva Phalguni: fruits, eating fruits topless, rose gold color, the "rizz"(lol), the phallus, dramaticism.

Uttara Phalguni:

Favors from friends, family and partners, contracts, beneficial agreements, the perfect wife, likeability, popularity, friendliness, appearing cool, stoicism, beneficial arrangements, gain through partnerships, self-expression through relationships, wife/girlrfiend material, harvest, family associations, marriage associations.

Things that remind me of Uttara Phalguni: the "chads", simplicity, genuine friends, loyal companions, family business, the perfect male stereotype, the "rich heiress running away" trope, wheat, gold, power couples.

Hasta:

The earth, the veiled feminine, manipulation, denial of access, materialism, cheating, everyday matters, empowerment of women, deception, skill, seeking knowledge, wanting to be in control, activism, street-smarts, manipulation of masses.

Things that remind me of Hasta: the hand, Goddess Persephone, skilled hands, thieves, easy money, fairies, witches, scammers.

Chitra:

Crafting, building, perspective, truth, law, gems, sacrifice for your craft, vanity, stereotypes, aesthetics, the truth in stereotypes, building based on the law and the truth, the surface of things, the appearance of things, the substance reflected in the vessel, gossip, cliques, tricks.

Things that remind me of Chitra: the god Hephestos, martian gods in general, jewelry, fashion, make-up, drama, pettiness, the coquette aesthetic, pranksters, Olivia Rodrigo(ig).

Swati:

Space, the cosmos, shifting realities, love, rebellion, alternate realities, possibilities, seeing beauty in everything, inspiration, art, the cosmic egg, creation of the world, creation of worlds, microcosm and macrocosm, freedom through love.

Things that remind me of Swati: video games, the wind, plants beggining to sprout, the sword, technology, the Sims.

Vishakha:

The lightning, snapping, splitting, joining opposites, compromise, marriage, repressed anger, repressed aggression, alter egos, passion, enthusiasm, standing up for yourself and others, repression and then expression, energy, love and hate.

Things that remind me of Vishakha: lighning bolts, Zeus, Thor and other lighning gods, superhero "Shazam", celebrations.

Anuradha:

Friendship, devotion, depth, loyalty, unconditional loyalty, bonds, the occult, sex with love, numbers, gatherings, friend groups, groups, gentleness, humbleness, discipline, seriousness, organizing society, social groups.

Things that remind me of Anuradha: the color burgundy, dim lights, bunnies, "Sex Education" (tv show), sci-fi (for some reason), "The Vampire Diaries" (and very similar teen shows), frat boys, cheerleaders.

Jyeshta:

The battlefield, war, hunger, thirst, insatiability, conquering, the underdog, street-smarts, competition, strategy, extreme independence, mind games, the art of war, survival, ruling, rising above, self-reliance, wisdom, becoming the authority, the eldest, dryness, trust issues, enemies, destroying enemies, outsmarting all enemies.

Things that remind me of Jyeshta: grandmothers, owls, eagles, dry places, flags, marching, chess.

Mula:

Horror, the abnormal, the truth, the core, the center, the absorbing darkness, the black hole, the roots, violence against falsehoods, seeking the truth, seeking the cause, seeking roots, uprooting, chaos, from chaos to order, the unchanging truth, taming beasts, holding to your truth.

Things that remind me of Mula: "Phanton of the Opera", "Twilight", final girls, horror movies, dark murky green, the wilderness.

Purva Ashadha:

Art, beauty, alliances, artistry, ideals, fighting for the ideal, discrimination, exclusivity, philosophies about beauty and art, passion for love and art, attachments, secrecy, luxury, vitality, vigor, going for victory.

Things that remind me of Purva Ashadha: the sea, seafoam, goddess Aphrodite, seashells, mermaids, sirens, fans (the ones you hold in your hand lol), Arwen from LotR.

Uttara Ashadha:

Victory, loneliness, individuality, government, empowerment, independence, being looked up to, composed self-expression, ease, simplicity but regality, confidence, self-assuredness, melancholy and hardships of aloneness but contentment, stoicism, invincibility, unapologetic behavior.

Things that remind me of Uttara Ashadha: earnest people, goddess Nike, mint color for some reason.

Shravana:

Connecting everything, secret knowledge, interest in everything, reading between the lines, subconcious access, extreme sensitivity, holding the humanity together, secret agencies, percieving what others can't percieve, saving humanity, navigating, receptivity, mysticism.

Things that remind me of Shravana: Superman, Geralt of Rivia, Aragorn, King arthur, pathways, footprints, ear, color blue, spies, astrology, outcasts, fringe societies.

Dhanishta:

Celebration, celebrities, fame, visibility, aggression, agitation, action, bringing people together, idols, propaganda, wealth from fame, that which attracts attention, public image, benefits and downsides of fame, openness and flashiness, branding, movement.

Things that remind me of Dhanishta: supermodels, Princess Diana, dancing, rhythmic drums.

Shatabhisha:

Complexities, seeing everything, lurking in shadows, holding the knowledge, secrets, secrecy, hiding, technology, innovation, being ahead of your time, advising but manipulating, society, the collective, trends, the conciousness of masses, propaganda.

Things that remind me of Shatabhisha: midnight sky, stars, the seas, water reservoirs, the circle, the all-seeing eye of Sauron(lol), Lord of the Rings, rings, the movie "Stardust" (the book too), the evil advisor/black cardinal trope.

Purva Bhadrapada:

Notoriety, expansion, uncontrolled expansion, persmissiveness, growth to ruin unless restrained, fighting for your soul, the scapegoat, going against society, getting tested, the point of no return.

Things that remind me of Purva Bhadrapada: gangs, famous criminals, laziness, femme fatales, the grotesque, deserts, werewolves, the black sheep.

Uttara Bhadrapada:

Finding grace, hardships, working, inner strength, steeliness, resilience, patience, restraint, contol, self-restraint and self-control, bravery, honesty, stubbornness, fighting for your truth, perfect control, freedom through limitations, seeking a permanent foundation built on truth, working for the foundation, long-term goals, innocence, purity of soul, stillness, refinement, honor and glory.

Things that remind me of Uttara Bhadrapada: butterflies, clouds, baby blue color, Cinderella, warriors, knights, knight orders, ice, coldness, queens, ice-queen, dragons, water dragons, deep waters, deep sea and its creatures, wings.

Revati:

Ultimate freedom, creativity, wisdom, gentleness, compassion, guiding, herding, fun, laughter, mischief, lightnness, ease, finding peace, reaching the end, enjoying what you have, contentment, nurturing, open-mindedness, conclusions, gratefulness, freedom and free will, having choices, diversity, finding the truth, true wealth, parenthood, the guide, guidance, individuation.

Things that remind me of Revati: shepherds, herding, everything easy and light, the tricksters, the fool, jokes, Loki, The Joker, fish, comedy, the movie "A Fish Called Wanda", caring for everyone and everything, light and soft shades of green and blue.

[twistedworld101]

List of Unique Magic of the Original Characters

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle -- OFF WITH YOUR HEAD  (Lit. Behead Them)

ABILITY:

Summons a collar around the target’s neck and seals their magic.

INCANTATION: 

I’ll hand down my sentence. The verdict comes afterwards. Are you ready? Off With Your Head!

FIRST APPEARANCE: 

Unique Magic: Prologue 3

Incantation: Twisted-Wonderland Manga Episode of Heartslabyul: Volume 1 (p.50)

Ace

NOT REVEALED

Deuce -- BET THE LIMIT (Lit. Tit for Tat)

ABILITY: 

Builds up damage taken by attacks and returns it all at once twofold.

INCANTATION:

I’ll make you pay for that! Brace yourself! Bet the Limit!

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Episode 5-64

Cater -- SPLIT CARD (Lit. Scattered Hand of Cards)

ABILITY:

Creates clones of himself.

INCANTATION:

I am him, and he is another. Split Card!

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic: Episode 1-15 / P.E. Cater Vignette

Incantation: P.E. Cater Vignette

Trey -- DOODLE SUIT (Lit. Paint the Roses)

ABILITY:

Temporarily overwrites a specific component of the target item.

INCANTATION:

White to red, and red to white. Doodle Suit!

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic: Episode 1-14

Incantation: Twisted-Wonderland The Novel Episode 1: The Red-Rose Tyrant (p.249)

SAVANACLAW

Leona -- KING’S ROAR (Lit. Roar of the King)

ABILITY:

Destroys anything into dust 

INCANTATION:

I am hunger. I am thirst. I am what robs you of tomorrow. King’s Roar!

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic: Episode 2-25 / Dorm Leona Vignette

Incantation: Dorm Leona Vignette

Jack -- UNLEASH BEAST (Lit. Shattering Howl on a Moonlit Night)

ABILITY:

Transforms into a wolf.

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic: Episode 2-26

Ruggie -- LAUGH WITH ME (Lit. Fool’s Parade)

ABILITY:

Controls others to mimic his movements.

INCANTATION:

Both kings and hyenas are my friends! Laugh With Me!

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic: Episode 2-2 (first seen), 2-23 (name spoken)

Incantation: Twisted-Wonderland Episode of Savanaclaw Volume 2

OCTAVINELLE

Azul -- IT’S A DEAL (Lit. Golden Contract)

ABILITY:

Takes any power from the target once they sign a contract.

INCANTATION:

The song ends, the sun sets. Extend mercy upon these poor souls. Now, the deal is struck! It’s a Deal!

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic: Episode 3

Incantation: Glorious Masquerade (Event) Episode 5-5

Jade -- SHOCK THE HEART (Lit. Gnawing Teeth)

ABILITY:

Compels the target to speak the truth. Can only be used once per person.

INCANTATION:

No need to fear, I only wish to help you. Shock the Heart.

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic: Episode 3

Incantation: Episode 4

Floyd -- BIND THE HEART (Lit. Coiling Tail)

ABILITY:

Blocks and diverts an opponent’s magic.

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic: Episode 3

SCARABIA

Kalim -- OASIS MAKER (Lit. Everlasting Grace)

ABILITY:

Springs forth large quantities of water.

INCANTATION:

A haven within the hot sands, a never-ending feast. Dance! Sing! Oasis Maker!

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Episode 4

Jamil -- SNAKE WHISPER (Lit. Snake Charmer)

ABILITY:

Hypnotizes a target. They must look into his eyes for it to take effect.

INCANTATION:

The one you see reflected in your eyes is your master. Answer when I ask. Bow when I command. Snake Whisper.

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Episode 4

POMEFIORE

Vil -- FAIREST ONE OF ALL (Lit. Poison From a Beautiful Flower)

ABILITY:

Places a curse with a touch by specifying the conditions.

INCANTATION:

Nothing to lose, nothing to fear. The shining crown is meant for me. Fairest One Of All.

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic: Episode 5

Incantation: Episode 6

Epel -- SLEEP KISS (Lit. Crimson Fruit)

ABILITY:

Places target in glass coffin and puts them to sleep.

INCANTATION:

Close your eyes, still your breath. Sleep Kiss.

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Episode 6

Rook -- I SEE YOU (Lit. Arrow that Flies to the Furthest Reaches)

ABILITY:

Once cast on a target, he can pinpoint its exact location.

INCANTATION:

Come, let’s see you try to outrun me. I See You.

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Episode 6

IGNIHYDE

Idia -- GATE TO UNDERWORLD (Lit. Opened Gateway to the Underworld)

ABILITY:

Opens and closes the door to the “Underworld” in STYX HQ.

INCANTATION:

Game, Set, Match. Gate to Underworld.

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Episode 6

DIASOMNIA

Malleus -- FAE OF MALEFICENCE (Lit. Blessing)

ABILITY:

Casts a web of thorns and places everyone within to sleep.

INCANTATION:

Spinning wheel of fate, keep pulling the thread of disaster. As King of the Abyss, I shall bestow this upon you. Fae of Maleficence.

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Episode 7

Silver -- MEET IN A DREAM (Lit. Let’s Share the Same Dream)

ABILITY:

Allows the caster to jump into other people’s dreams. Only can be used while asleep. Cannot choose the dream that is jumped to. The dreamer is indicated by a white bird-like wisp.

INCANTATION:

To the one I’ve met before, to the one I’ve yet to meet. Meet in a Dream.

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Episode 7

Sebek -- LIVING BOLT (Lit. Flash of Lightning)

ABILITY:

His body becomes lightning, which allows him to move and strike like one.

INCANTATION:

Strike through the stormy heavens, O lightning! 

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Episode 7

Lilia -- FAR CRY CRADLE (Lit. To the Furthest Cradle)

ABILITY:

Allows the caster to play back the memory of an “object” for a short time.

INCANTATION:

All is as if it were days long past. No matter where it takes us, it will all be over in the blink of an eye. Far Cry Cradle.

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Episode 7

OTHERS

Rollo Flamme -- DARK FIRE (Lit. Burning Desire)

ABILITY:

His body is wrapped in flames that he can manipulate at will. The more his foes are afraid, confused, or frustrated, the stronger his flames.

INCANTATION:

O crimson flower, scorch my soul and guide me. Dark Fire!

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Glorious Masquerade (Event) Episode 5-5

Fellow Honest -- LIFE IS FUN (Lit. Rose-Tinted Dream)

ABILITY:

Those afflicted feel more easy-going and optimistic and are more inclined to do things they wouldn’t normally do.

INCANTATION:

Come on to the theater! Life is Fun!

FIRST APPEARANCE:

Unique Magic/Incantation: Stage in Playful Land (Event) Episode 5-6

[magnoliasandarson]

gods of gotham- apollo

In the songs and stories, the nature of Apollo was generally agreed upon as vapid, self-serving, womanizing, performative, and endlessly bright. Farmers, doctors, and scholars alike prayed at his altars. But there is an oft-forgotten truth hidden amongst the gilt—Phoebus Apollo’s light not only shone but burned.

The people sang odes to his beauty, to his mercy, to his power. The faithful wrote hymns and poems describing his epic deeds; the wrongs righted through his wisdom- the glory of the sun god. Fanciful artists sculpted his form- the lithe frame and the smile. He was beloved, for how could he not be? A beacon of truth, light, and hope. And yet…

Crops withered under his gaze, plagues spread on his whims, arrows struck down the faithless and villainous, cities burned with his rage, and entire civilizations trembled at his fury. Let them write him off as a peaceful god; let them forget who saw Achilles struck down; let them forget the creation of disease. Let them write him off as a merciful god; let them forget who slew the beast sent to harm his mother; let them forget why he carried a bow. 

In Gotham and Blüdhaven, the nature of Nightwing was well-known and well-loved. The cheerful, performative, endlessly bright, and eternally heroic. Civilians and first responders alike knew that his presence meant safety and hope. But there are truths unuttered and ignored about the blue-crested hero- Nightwing’s light not only shone but burned.

In the streets, people spoke of his mega-watt smile, the way his suit conformed to his muscled frame and his unending good humor. Other heroes called on him when in need and spoke fondly of his brightness and honorable nature. Graffiti artists painted his symbols in alleys and on train cars. He was beloved, for how could he not be? A beacon of justice, light, and hope. But…

Bones shattered under his fists, buildings turned to ash heaps, electric shocks made the villainous fall to their knees, criminal enterprises burned with his fire, and entire planets grew to fear him. Let them write him off as the peaceful vigilante; let them forget who killed the Joker; let them forget who allowed Blockbuster to die without blinking. Let them write him off as the merciful vigilante; let them forget the way hunted his parents’ killer; let them forget his escrima sticks had a lethal setting.

Welcome back, Apollo- your people have missed you.

In Greece and Gotham,  when screams echoed through the air and the warriors and wounded alike prayed for salvation, a glimmering grin appeared in the shadows. After the blood was shed and the flesh was burned, they would forget the brutality and praise his virtues. But words could no more change the nature of the sun than the clouds, for the light cannot exist without the blaze.

[werezmastarbucks]

kevin khatchadourian x female reader timeline of relationship pt 2

first part

warnings: mutual abuse, mentions of school shooting, folie a deux, mentions of stalking, mentions of suicidal thoughts, self-harm, living with trauma, otherwise it's fun! also, Kevin gets way more jail time while I'm captaining this ship

• Kevin got a reduced sentence, because at the time of the shooting he was just three days shy of sixteen

• that shows that he was calculating from the beginning to the end. Moreover, he calculated exactly how much time it would take him to fuck you, and he managed to do it even with some spare time left

• the headlines screamed of despair. You heard that Kevin had killed his father and his little sister - that angelic, innocent, happy girl, before going to school

• there were many times when you asked yourself why he spared you

• but there were now other things to think about. Like, how you were supposed to go on living now. Your own little grudge about that night at the party dissipated and became a minor failure even before the calendar year was out.

• you heard his mum sold the house and moved away on the outskirts of the city. She didn't leave the town though, because at first, Kevin was held at the local facility for minors.

• even you got your share of hatred, to say nothing about his mother.

• the police investigated you mildly, because you were the only survivor in the massacre. They quickly understood you hadn't conspired with Kevin. But people didn't care.

• very soon, you moved away and left the town, and school, behind you.

• five years of therapy, contemplation, heartache, spent with total lack of comprehension of what had transpired. Weeks turned into months as you went into a frenzy, sitting in your room, staring at the walls, trying to find your place in this story.

• you were recalling all of the moments you spent with him, one by one, trying to find the second he snapped. You remembered how you marveled at the beautiful stack of arrows on his wall. Just like Robin Hood's.

• five years of therapy, and self-reflexion. And then, when you were twenty years old, you decided to google his name for the first time in all that time.

• "I don't know why I did it: Kevin Khatchadourian, school shooter with a bow, has been transferred to the adult prison". An article from three years ago. There was a lot of news about him, a lot of pictures of Kevin. Him in his orange costume, hair cut short, and he looked like a disgraced puppy, lost. He was almost nothing without his magical poetic hair.

• one of the videos from court displayed him crying, hiding his face in his hands. You knew these tears were nothing but an act; just a thing everybody expected, or maybe, he wanted to try, and see if the reaction would be to his benefit.

• "The Robin Hood school shooter feels remorse, apologizes to families"

• there were even articles about you, though, in fewer numbers. Still, some theories that you helped Kevin to lock the hall; or that you were his sex toy that he had mercy on. As you went deeper on the internet, there were even accusations of satanism and demonology.

• through the news articles you watched Kevin grow. He turned seventeen, eighteen, then, his hair grew a little. Today, he was being fried in the adult prison. Very soon, there was another school shooting in the same state, so everybody forgot about Kevin Khatchadourian. Plus, he killed so few people; just seven. Weak. Reading this number, every time all these five years, you were taken aback. The whole ordeal felt like it lasted at least an hour. You were seeing everything in slow motion

• the truth was, every time you closed your eyes, for the longest time after, you started seeing Kevin's distorted face. As he grinned with hatred while he was killing your classmates. Little tiger cubs make that face when they learn to roar.

• the latest pictures of him were from the last year; he was a young man of twenty now. His black slick hair brushed back, bruises on his cheekbones. He was a broken man, the light dull in his eyes. Only in the corners of his mouth, there was the old Kevin. The Kevin who laughed at dumb people.

• sooner or later it was inevitable that you started asking yourself questions you couldn't answer. Could I have prevented it? To what degree has he been using me? Why did he spare me? Not like he cared about me? In his eyes, as he looked at me in the yard, there was nothing but resentment.

• you went to see him in prison, thinking about how you looked to someone who hadn't seen you in years. Thinking about your classmates who didn't get to be twenty, nineteen, throwing hats in the air, buying cars, traveling the world.

• all your unrequitted loving, and the dark undulgence, the sense of being the chosen one aside, you thought of those teenagers they used to be and stayed forever, and you wished to be in their place. Because then, you wouldn't have to see Kevin again.

• he looked worn out, but wild in a way, the same pitch-black hair, the same empty stare. Only, it became completely hollow now. His eyes only lit up for a secons when he saw you entering the room.

• you trembled with the realization that this person on front of you, behind the glass, killed seven people you knew, and was now smiling to you. A grown-up cougar. Unaffected, bored, like your coming was a matter-of-fact occurrence.

• his first question was what took you so long. He thought you'd run with lectures and commeuppances ages ago.

• his face sported a split eyebrow, there was a bruise on his forehead. His cheekbone was cut, it seemed, some time ago already, and a pink scar made his perfect fucking face asymmetrical.

• "Did you get beaten up?" you asked. He replied that he had got into a fight. His knuckles were torn to shreds almost, it was unpleasant to look at them; his skin was pale, pulled over his skull. Black circles around the eyes told you he didn't sleep well. He looked ever more like a vampire. The unpleasant kind, not like from the Vampire Diaries.

• he tried to ask you again, why you didn't visit him earlier. His mum was the only one, he said, who ever came, besides the lawyers and the journalists. You scoffed at it and left it without the answer. His eyes were palpating you, examining. His mouth slightly agape. He hasn't seen a woman, you thought, except his mother, for a very long time.

• "I came to ask you one question", you said, and Kevin made the face of annoyance. You went on anyway. "Why did you kill my friends?" He mocked you. Why did he do it. If only you knew how many people came here and sat in your place, and asked the same stupid question. Have you people no imagination nor consciousness to bore him with that? Like he knew. "Because I could", he spat out, "because I wanted to, and I had the means. Because I was annoyed with those people, and they made me irritated. What reasons do you want? I have no idea why I fucking did it; to piss you off? To make you spend five fucking selfish years thinking about why I fucking did it".

• you were not impressed. You didn't expect a fifteen year old narcissist to comprehend his own actions completely.

• "Why did you spare me then?" He shrugged.

• "Because you were nice to me".

• "I punched you in the face".

• he shrugged again like it didn't matter. But it did matter to him back then.

• you're like a robot, you said, you're not supposed to feel anything for a girl who you fucked and threw out like a sock with dry cum. You're a machine and you shouldn't feel anything. It irritated Kevin, this comparison with an inanimate object. Truth was, you were trying to get to his core, to hurt him as bad as you could, to see if he's still alive at all.

• "What's your point?" why didn't you kill me with the rest of them?

• he clutched the phone and rolled his eyes like you were asking the stupidest possible questions. His eyes then drifted down to your chest, where, propped against the glass, was your arm with an old, long scar from the razor.

• "Why, you have a death wish now?" he whispered. A familiar lustful smile was curling his lips. You noticed another scar on his lip, from someone's fist. It must be tough for the pretty boy here at prison. You wondered if the inmates were afraid of him.

• "I could organise it, you know". You realized he almost never, if ever, called you by your name. At all, as if it didn't exist. You wondered if he even knew your name at all.

• "You can't, you're in prison. You're a rat behind the glass. Do you understand, Kevin, that some of the parents of my dead friends, killed themselves years later?"

• he swayed his head with a question, like, what's he have to do with this information?

• "And", you panted now, "all because of one angry boy, and you're... it's the lack of grey matter in your brain poless, Kevin. You're a psychopath. And it's not good, do you understand, you're less than others. You're a little bit less of a human than the rest of us".

• finally, you saw the look of indignation on him. It was rage and disgust, but so quiet that his face just elongated, like a cat's. He was silent, burying you with his stare.

• "We all need one thing, Kevin. All of us. But you can't have it. It is inaccessible to you. That's why you did it".

• Kevin's nostrils were flaring. You put down the phone and stood up to leave. You could hear him scream through the glass. You caught him right by the balls. He was so smart, so, so intelligent unlike all these dumb people. But he couldn't guess what you meant. All these years he'd been searching for the answer, and it was just out of his reach.

• "What? What is it? What is it? What is it, Y/N?"

• he got fifteen years, actually. So, he was out when he was thirty. Still very young, all life to live. He pretended a lot in prison to get the appeal, but he was never granted it. Still, just fifteen years, and then he was out.

• you haven't seen him for ten years.

• the 8th of April was shifting further and further from you. Watching all the school shooting happening in the country was strange. Like almost each of them seemed a next chapter to you, like you were supposed to puzzle them all in, into one coherent picture. You changed jobs, you got in and out of relationships, none of which stuck. You didn't talk with your best friend from school, you drifted apart. You moved out and lived alone, acquiring lonely hobbies and observing people.

• the short visit to prison to see Kevin left a bleak impression of frustration. The memory of losing your virginity to him seemed like a minor failure still. You remembered that night very vividly, and now all of the time you were spending with him, was very clear to you.

• looking back, you saw the manipulation and hot and cold approach he practiced on you. You were something of a practice dummy for him. You could travel back in time and stand there next to yourself on the porch of someone's house and watch yourself kiss him for the first time. You could see him now, from a great angle, how he trapped you in his cobweb. How his eyes were never warm or loving, or even interested, but always calculating, measuring. He always looked at you, you realized, as if he was trying to guess your height for a coffin.

• you've never thought of the life 'after'. In your mind, the fifteen years of prison were eternal. You thought it was the period of time during which you would kill yourself

• you tried to learn everything about ASPD as if it could help you in anyway to deal with what had happened.

• the year when he got released, you only learned about it from the news.

• "Kevin Khatchadourian, the Robin Hood shooter, to be released this May". The article reminisced of the tragedy, and speculated on whether fifteen years have shaken Kevin enough for him to become a good boy. Kevin, it said, had gotten a pretty good rehabilitation back in the minor facility, and very rarely was in trouble at prison. He was an excellent inmate, obedient, friendly and very active at the workshops. He worked at the hospital wing and cared for other inmates. You wondered how many people he made die slowly and painfully, getting high on the power he had over them.

• not immediately did it shake you to reality: Kevin was now about to be free in two months. You tried not to stress about it too much. He didn't give a shit about you. Not then, not now. The therapy groups organized specifically for his victims and the families gathered that spring more often than usual. You weren't accepted there, weren't welcome. They couldn't forgive you for surviving.

• a week after his release you noticed Kevin on the other side of the street as you left for work in the morning. You didn't much care and ignored him. But the sight of him was something to think about. His hair was now long, almost to his shoulders. He was broad-shouldered, tall, and even from across the street you could see his warning eyes.

• you were careful not to get any pets or close friends. It wasn't a problem before, and it wasn't now.

• you cut yourself sometimes, and now started to do it more often - every time you caught yourself thinking, finally he's out.

• you've never gone to a proper doctor, only had therapy for five years, which you quit after visiting him in prison. It was all useless, you thought, because I still want him, and even more now. Everything that's happened to you shaped you into this creature of guilt and need.

• but also rage.

• he once held you by the throat and aimed an arrow at you, and since then, you barely felt fear, like someoned switched it off.

• Kevin came to your place. You tried to shut the door into his face, but he caught it. Close up, you could see his face, thin and pale with the lack of sun.

• he wanted to talk to you. Like adults.

• he said that no, you were never that special, but you actively chose him, again and again, and he was interested to find why. When it appeared so easy to make you have sex with him, he lost interest, but then, at the night of the massacre, for some reason, he just didn't feel like killing you

• you were nobody, to each other, he hasn't even thought about you the first five years, before you came to visit.

• then the thought of you became somewhat of obsession

• he probably idealized you

• you asked where he lived now, and he said that his mum bought a flat in the city and had a room for him. You called him pathetic. At first, he didn't react; he looked broken.

• but there was still the same sense of grandeur in him; you, a feeble creature, thought you could outpower him with only your fury and jealousy, indignation at what he'd done

• but, as Kevin once told you, the world was so unfair to little, pretty girls like you

• he threw you on the floor of your kitchen

• you laughed with relief, saying, "Finally! I thought just fifteen years of prison broke you like a dry twig".

• the look of recognition sparked in his eyes; he kneeled over you as if to say something, and you got his nose with your fist

• one would say it was a happy (in the most infernal way) reunion

• you fought, and laughed, and kicked each other, and kissed with the blood dripping heavily in between your mouths. Only there, in the isolated square of your apartment, you could finally confess to yourself that you didn't give a shit about anything; you haven't for some time.

• the blood was smeared on the floor, on the table, on the cupboards of the kitchen from how much you fought and punched each other

• he left you half dead, and redeemed, it felt

• he said that he'd return soon, and he expected you to be there waiting for him. He didn't want you to go to work or see anybody.

• you laughed at this suggestion and got up to tell him something to his face.

• he was in the bathroom, washing his face. The blood was dripping from his nose onto his t-shirt; he looked like a painting

• and paintings are objects you could own.

• you said "Make me"

• and his smile was almost happy; Kevin could only master so much, that it looked like a deranged grin. The time he spent on the bottom of helplessnes in prison, with nothing but his own self, changed the way he smiled. There was nothing behind his eyes when he smiled now.

• he promised he would go out and fuck whoever he wanted, and then return to you, smelling like other women, and there was nothing you could do about it

• you clenched your fists, but you were now so weak you could barely stand. Your whole body ached.

• he helped you shower and washed your hair, tugging on it, giving you instructions, like an idiot, expecting that he had the same control over you

• after work, you go straight home, you don't text with your parents, don't see your friends, every time you leave your house, you tell him where

• you laughed like crazy at these words.

• Kevin, Kevin. His name was like melody. The pain in your body, bruises, were the first thing you felt in a long time, and, coincidentally, they were connected with the feeling of elation you had now, that his hands were on your neck and your shoulders.

• you could fuck whoever you wanted, Kevin, but it would only happen one time, because if you do, I'll cut your balls off

• and to make him sure that you weren't bluffing, you tried to stab him with manicure scissors from the bathroom mirror.

• his reactions were fast, and he caught your hand inches from his face.

• as he looked down at you, sitting in your bathroom in the pool of pink blood, blood on your forehead, your eyes rolling, he thought about the time he finally started paying attention at school. The girl who loved frogs so much she couldn't look at dead ones. Weak-gutted.

• he now almost admired how deranged you have become. At the moment of epiphany he realized he was the one who made you like this. He was so, so happy. Or what he thought was happiness.

• you pulled on his collar, biting your lip, and put his face very close to yours

• "Don't fuck with me". He saw all the fun coming and he didn't have any desire to disobey.

• Look, what was that damn thing you were talking about when you visited?

• you watched his sculpted face and his sharp bones, the tilt of the head and the vampiric malevolence in his eyes. What was love anymore? Would it have made any difference, morally, if you two had met in normal circumstances, and, more importantly, if he was normal? Would you even have fallen for him if he was a good boy?

• this life was a vortex that became tighter and tighter every year. Next to your memories of school, was this confined bathroom, like you existed on all of the planes at the same time. You laughed at your own naive young self that was looking for excuses for Kevin. uwu, his mum didn't want him. He's too pretty to be that bad. He didn't need excuses, he was always the villain. The good people are never that striking, that vivid and suffocating.

• nevermind, Kevin, it doesn't matter. I didn't know what the fuck I was talking about.

[the-whatcherof-89]

Sir CyberKnife Herald of order.

CR 22 LG Medium Humanoid (Orc, Humanoid)

XP 614,400 (if used as npc for encounter)Advanced Half orc Bard(Negotiator)12 Paladin(Scion of peace)8

Lawful Good Medium humanoid (half orc)

Init +7; Senses Perception +39

AC 36, touch 25, flat-footed 29, (+7Natural, +5Deflect, +6Armor, +5Shield, +7Dexterity, +1Intuition) Hp 225 (12d8+8D10+148)

Fort +33, Ref +33, Will +36

Speed 30 ft. Melee Diplomat3+28/23/18/13 1D6+4, Spells. Ranged Bow of Artaphernes+32/27/22/17 1D8+8, Spells.

Racial Speed 30ft, Darkvision 60ft, Human-raised, sacred tattoo, Orc blood.

Traits Noble Savage.

Class features Hard bargain, Bardic performance(Counter-argument, Fast talk, binding contract, Distraction, Fascinate, Inspire competence, Suggestion, Dirge of doom, Soothing performance), Master of rhetoric 2/day, Well-versed, Jack of all trades, Rogue talents(Finesse rogue, Charmer, Ranged disarm, Slippery mind), Scion’s faith, Egalitarian, Aura of good, Detect evil, Smite evil3/day, Bonded eagle, Lay on hands, Aura of courage, Divine health, Channel positive energy, Mercy(Deceived, Riled), Consensus.

Spellcasting CL12(Bard) Daily 8/8/7/6 CL5th(Paladin) Daily 4/4 DC22.

Known(Bard): 0-Read magic, Mage hand, Prestidigitation, Detect magic, Repair, Message. I-Charm person, Hideous laughter, Grease, Cure light wounds, Animate ropes, Alarm. II-Cure moderate wounds, Calm emotions, Mirror image, Enthrall, Hold person. III-Haste, Good hope, Dispel magic, Charm monster. IV-Hold monster, Summon monster IV-Freedom of movement, Illusory terrain.

Prepared(Paladin): I-Bless, Lesser restoration, Build trust, Detect undead. II-Resist energy, Bull’s strength, Shield other, Zone of truth.

Str 12, Dex 24, Con 24, Int 24, Wis 22, Cha 34

Base Atk +17/12/7/2; CMB +13; CMD +20

Feats Scribe scroll, Combat expertise, Precise shot, Improved disarm, Deadly aim, Adept champion, Outflank, Leadership, Point-blank shot, Spell focus(Enchantment), Greater spell focus(Enchantment).

Skills Acrobatics+30, Appraise+11, Bluff+22, Climb+9, Craft(Calligraphy)+30, Diplomacy+46, Disguise+16, Escape artist+30, Fly+11, Handle animal+16, Heal+12, Intimidate+22, Knowledge (Arcana+29, Dungeon+15, Engineering+15, Geography+15, History+15, Local+21, Nature+15, Nobility+15, The planes+15, Religion+15), Linguistics+4, Perception+29, Perform(Oratory)+35, Profession(Ambassador)+15, Ride+11, Sense motive+45, Sleight of hand+15, Spellcraft+28, Stealth+15, Survival+10, Swim+5, Use magic device+33.

Leadership score (40)Cohort lv17th Followers I-135 II-13 III-7 IV-4 V-2  VI-2 (Special modifications due to the Kingstone)

Languages Common, Orcish, Giant, Abyssal, Draconic, Ignan, Aquan, Necril, Alko, Sylvan, Tongues(via the Kingstone).

Combat gear Diplomat3(Disarming blade+Diplomat’s traveling stick+ Defending rapier+4), Bow of Artaphernes(Adaptive Cunning Allying dispelling Longbow+5), 50+3 Arrows, Clod iron longsword, Uniform of Apollonius(Heavy fortification Iadran dress uniform+3), Ring of protection+5, Ring of tactical precision(Outflank), Amulet of natural armor+5, Quick-block buckler, Staff of bolstering, Headband of mental superiority+6(Escape artist), Belt of physical might+6(Dex, Con), Cloak of Diogenes(Cloak of the diplomat+Cloak of resistance+3), Inquisitor’s monocle, Bracers of steadiness, Bag of holding(Type I), Tome of leadership and influence+3(Used), Ioun stones(Lavender and green ellipsoid, Dusty rose prism), Potions of gaseous form(4), Scrolls: Haste(1), Heroism(1), (Summon monster IV(3), Bard’s kit, 373GP, The Kingstone(Artifact).

The Kingstone(Artifact) Aura(Strong enchantment) CL18th Description: 

This artifact looks like a finely-carved marble sphere with runes of gold inscribed in various languages reciting poems of kings and rulers which changes every day. The stone can be carried by anyone but only those who are worthy can use its powers. Those deemed unworthy will have the stone turned into a cursed artifact known as a Loadstone. However, should one work to find a suitable user, the stone will guide the holder toward the “Ideal King” via prophetic dreams and other means granting the power to use Divine Favor upon itself once per day. Once the stone finds the “Ideal King” it will bestow its powers upon him which includes the following: 1)The user is constantly under the effect of of the following spells: Divine Favor, Tongues and Heroism. 2)All effect of auras, inspiration and Charisma-based skills, abilities and spells double the area which they cover normally, their other effects remain unchanged. 3)Finally, if the user manages to become a ruling figure of a kingdom or to be accepted as a king, the stone allows to the user to project an illusory image of the kingdoms and it will automatically know if there are enemies in the land(such as an invading army). This effect functions as the spell Sand Table. 4)All the authority bonuses increases by +3, furthermore, the user can summon an extra Monstrous Cohort of the appropriate level that serves him once per day for 1 hour which can be divided in 1 minute increments at his request(In this case it’s a Young Silver Dragon). If the cohort is killed, it disappears and can be summoned again after 24h. The more the user becomes famous, the more it becomes closer to turn into the “Ideal King” the ruler of all nations and kingdoms whom will unite all the world under a single banner. It is unknown if this is true or just a myth, but if the holder of the stone wishes to pass the torch of rulership it must find a replacement before giving it away. Common people will come flocking under the holder of the Kingstone seeing him as the true king (Regardless, such situation must be discussed by the DM). Destruction: To destroy the Kingstone it must be buried in the ground of the material plane in a land where no kingdom/nation has been established for at least 100 years and it must stay there for 1000 years untouched. When said time has passed, the stone turns into dust. However, the gods will not stay idle and a new Kingstone is sure to reappear somewhere, somehow to find a new candidate “Ideal King”.

Challenge rating modifiers +1 advanced template, Improved stats, PC equipment.

Background: Very little is known about the one known as Cyberknife(if that is his real name). From what  little snippets of knowledge some attained, he was born in the Nether as all Piglins(Orcs) does. However, as it happens very rarely, the pig inhabitants of the red wastes will give birth to a hybrid: a Hal-feh(half-orc). Even more rarely, these hybrids becomes just better than the more run-of-the-mill gold-obsessed creatures. Of course, the leaders of the various clans will see these as “impure” and/or a danger for their leadership and will most likely try to systematically eliminate the threat before it becomes a real one. Cyberknife was one such case, but as he was about to be sacrificed in a ritual for their god, he succeeded at escaping by causing a Hoglin stampede across the bastion and escaping from an obsidian portal. Although, he did heard that if one of their kin does escape the dimension is turned into a zombie, he knew he was born DIFFERENT. As he left, he felt something change but he was fine; He found a vibrant world completely different from the lava-scarred caves he used to live. He walked the land, and although he had a rocky start(not being accepted by the inhabitants of this land) eventually things took a turn when he was accepted in a traveling circus where he discovered his talent for the bardic arts. He then enrolled into a bardic academy where he was the only one of his kind, not a good thing but he did not care for he had bigger plans in mind: He wanted to change the view the world had on the Nether and reestablish a peaceful relationships with the two dimensions. This was not an easy task but he was DETERMINED. After more years, he left the academy to look for fortune as an adventurer; and one day after a long expedition in an ancient tomb he found that stone: the Kingstone. After that day, it took him little to enroll as an advisor in a battlefield and even less to rise in the ranks and become a commander. With the glory of victory he entered the kingdom a champion, then, with the money that he attained, he founded a political campaign to promote the betterment of the kingdom. The opposition attempted to destroy him, but he was always able to thwart their efforts and won in a landslide. Cyberknife became the ruler of a nation at the young age of 22 and had no intention of stopping. After 10 years of turmoil he succeeded to quell the conflict between 3 more kingdoms and unite them under his banner. Now, from his massive palace he plans for the future… but what future?

First image - made with Heroforge.

Second image - Art by the fantastic Goatfella: https://www.tumblr.com/goatfellaa/693602368642809856/cyberknife-design?source=share

[seabirdtxt]

Event batch 6

We're finally here! Last batch of event requests, I can't believe how many amazing ideas you guys trusted me to write for you! 🤭🩵 thank you all for being here and supporting my little fics!

🩵 Check out my other event requests! 🩵

All three of these are part of the same request, by @resident-cryptid 🩵🤗 an exploration of the SAGAU archons that aren't Zhongli, and the regret of their own actions!

SAGAU!Venti - Imposter AU, angst, on-screen violence, Creator does reincarnate

SAGAU!Ei - Imposter AU, angst, on-screen violence, torture, Creator does not reincarnate

SAGAU!Nahida - Imposter AU, angst, off-screen violence, Creator’s post-death status unknown

----- ⚘ -----

SHAKE

The wind never lies. That’s the only thought that runs through Venti’s head as he chases the impostor through the Whispering Woods. The wind is the origin of all speech, of stories and truths and whispers under your breath. The people who speak can tell falsehoods as much as they please, but the wind itself will never lie.

Which is why Venti doesn’t know what to do with his own heart when the wind tells him that the person on their hands and knees crawling away from him, because he’d shot both of their heel tendons with his impeccable accuracy, is the true Creator.

But Venti has his orders, and he has his bow, and he lifts the weapon with shaking hands as he takes aim. You plead to him in a language he doesn’t understand, and the tears that fall from your agonized expression shimmer like crystals as they fall to the ground. You drag yourself further, leaving furrows in the dirt.

A turquoise arrow pins your left hand to the underbrush, and you let out another shriek of pain. The universal language of all living things. Venti’s stomach churns.

Another arrow grazes your cheek as you turn your head to beg him for mercy, and though Venti is not usually one to drag something like this out there’s just something clawing at the back of his mind that wants him to stopstopstopstOPSTOPSTOP-

The next arrow does not miss its mark, but only just. There is a scream both in the air and deep within Venti’s skull as the arrow pierces the side of your neck. The sensation is debilitating, it sends the bard to his knees and he holds his head in both hands as he watches in horror as you writhe and suffer from the poor shot, pulsing dark red through the wound rather than the merciful shot he’d been trying for.

It’s almost a relief when you finally expire, the screaming cuts off abruptly from all sources and Venti collapses on his hands in relief. There’s nothing as he watches your body turn to glittering dust, the wind sighing as if in relief. As if in pain.

The dust coalesces a few feet away, you. On your rump, you scoot away with all four intact limbs, gasping and trembling. The wind betrays its Archon as it sweeps you up in a whirlwind of twigs and leaves and raw Anemo, leaving Venti alone in the woods.

The worst part about atonement is people assuming you regret the wrong thing. When Venti returns to Mond with the revelation that the impostor has been killed, at the expense of his own powers, people believe he regrets having given up his elemental connection.

In truth, what he regrets most are the words he says and fails to say. He knows now, he thinks, that the true impostor is the one who ordered your death. The one he carried out. But, in order to protect you from others who would seek your end, the same way he sought it mere hours before, he needed to lie.

That’s when his voice fails, and his breath is stolen from him by the very Anemo he used to command. The tall tale he'd spend the entire journey back practicing? It never leaves his lips. For the first time in a long time, the bard is silent. He isn't sure he can ever speak again.

The people infer the outcome on their own, but Venti never tells them, because to say he killed an imposter would be a lie. And the wind, the air that freezes inside him and prevents him from blaspheming further, never lies.

----- ⚘ -----

RATTLE

Is it overkill to order the entire Shogunate forces to bring in the imposter? It’s been so long since EI had waged an honest war. The Raiden Shogun had overseen the VIsion Hunt Decree, leaving EI mostly out of the action, and being in command of the armies once more is a feeling that the Electro Archon had sorely missed.

Maybe it’s that feeling of elation that carries her as she leads the hunt herself, at the forefront of her army. It's no competition for who finds the imposter first, and Ei’s own hand clasps around the pathetic creature’s wrists as she leads them to the Tenryou detention center.

The heavily guarded detention center is cleared out of all prisoners save for one: the imposter, you.

There's a thrill under Ei’s artificial skin as she drags the point of her spear over the impostor's skin. In the low light of the prison cell, the blood that spills looks almost black.

“Tell me why you have impersonated our Creator,” Ei demands, easing up on the pressure of her blade momentarily. “What is your purpose? If you tell the truth, I will make what follows as painless as possible.”

You spit a wad of blood with a weak cough, a result of punctured lungs from earlier sessions. “I don’t- don’t know what you’re talking about…” you wheeze through gritted teeth, the same answer you’d given every other time you’d been asked the same question.

The room is dark, to prevent you from seeing shadows through your blindfold and guessing your gaoler's next move. You can hear her moving around you, but without the advantage of seeing her shadow you have no idea what she’s about to do.

“You are persistent,” Ei remarks coolly. “You would be commended for your perseverance in the face of danger, were you one of my own soldiers.”

The flat of her blade tilts your chin upward, making you strain your neck to avoid being decapitated.

“... Unfortunately, you are not one of my soldiers. And I tire of your incessant lies.”

You let out a bloodcurdling scream as Ei’s spear comes down with finality, piercing straight through your inner thigh and severing the artery there with deadly precision.

Ei watches almost dispassionately as you bleed out, mere seconds passing before you slump over, lifeless. With a single gesture, she commands for the torches to be lit once more.

The scene that greets her is horrific.

The dark blood she assumed was red is, in fact, a stunning deep gold. It’s splashed across every surface, decorating the room like foil leaf, and it pools under your body like a mirror, reflecting your empty, accusatory eyes back at her.

The realization strikes her like thunder. The bloodlust drains from her, directionless now that she finally spilled the blood she had unthinkingly demanded. The soldiers present witness as the usually stoic Archon crumples to her knees with a cry, palms clutching uselessly at the golden puddle as if she could put it back into your body with her own two hands.

What has she done? This is all her fault, if she’d only taken a moment to think deeper on her actions, if she’d lit the torches earlier, if she’d followed the instinct that roiled in her like a brewing storm, begging her not to do this…

This is all her fault. It’s Kitsune Saiguu all over again. It’s Makoto all over again. She paints your skin with your own blood, clumsy fingers trying to hold your wounds shut despite you already growing cold in her hands, until it disintegrates under her touch and you burst into thousands of shining particles. An unfelt breeze disperses your remains until every speck vanishes forever.

Ei gasps as something in her shatters, something she’d been trying to repair for such a long time. She retreats to the Plane of Euthymia, and leaves the confused Shogun puppet in her wake to deal with her mistakes.

----- ⚘ -----

ROLL

Nahida needs to know. She heard the rumors, she received the call to action, but she couldn’t be sure about the true intention of the so-called impostor.

What if it were simply an unfortunate circumstance? Surely it is to be expected, with the rate at which children are born in this world, that at least one or two lucky (or unlucky) people would be born with features similar to the Creator.

This, instead of ordering a manhunt, she requests that the forces of Sumeru retrieve the impostor and bring them in for questioning. She would hate for this to be the product of a divine misunderstanding, after all.

Or, maybe, she feels a strange kinship with the one who is accused of masquerading as a god. After all, didn’t Nahida also often feel as though she were but a mere replacement for another, better god? But that can’t be right, because Nahida has always been the Dendro Archon, and Irminsul would not lie to her.

It’s difficult to mass organize now that the Akashi system has been deprecated. Nahida’s orders are given via the matra, and spread to the various mercenary groups by letter or word of mouth. Somehow, along the way, the order is warped. Or, maybe, someone with an agenda purposefully gave the wrong order.

Which is why Nahida only hears about it happening secondhand, the letter finding her in her sanctuary, that the imposter has been caught and interrogated by Eremites somewhere in the Dharma forest. Dread seizes her, and she casts her consciousnesses out toward anyone familiar.

She finds the General Mahamatra on his way back to the city. In his mind, she begs the general to seek out this band of Eremites and prevent the loss of their prisoner. She impresses the importance that the prisoner be brought to her alive.

The swiftness at which Cyno travels is, unfortunately, not enough to prevent your demise. When he arrives at the scene, Nahida still riding behind his eyes, you have already been wrapped in a loose shroud, loaded onto the back of a cart to be taken into the city by sumpter beasts tomorrow morning. A shipment of one wanted criminal, dead or alive.

Nahida despairs in Cyno’s mind, feeling the world being overwritten. Knowledge seeps into the earth as the shroud covering you slowly deflates, your body evaporating into glittering particles.

As the keeper of wisdom, she is the first to know that you are not the impostor. In fact, she comes to the understanding quite quickly, as information filters directly through Irminsul and into her consciousness, that you might have been the only one who has kept their true face all along.

Venti embodying his dearest friend. Ei fashioning and possessing a puppet made in her sister’s image. Rex Lapis staging his own death to live as a human and cast off his responsibilities as a god.

And herself, who is a mere cutting from a larger, stronger, better plant. She remembers, now, the hopes that Lord Rukkhadevata had placed on her shoulders as she had entrusted the care of Sumeru to a lone, trembling leaf.

As all the world’s knowledge is restored, so too is the memory of the corruption returned to Irminsul, and Nahida isn’t sure what’s worse; knowing that she had let the Creator, you, die by her command? Or that your death may have placed her people in danger once more?

Is it selfish, she wonders, that she wishes she never had to know?

[mako-designated-driver]

Day #16: Bonus

Shartan 9

The rebel slaves flee

For twenty days and twenty nights the People ran,

With the footsteps of the legion ever at their backs.

No rest could they find, since their flight from Vol Dorma.

The People cried out in despair:

"Alas, that we ever left Vol Dorma!

Better we had died there than to be hunted like sport on the plains."

Among the People, some began to whisper of returning

To the city and throwing themselves

At the feet of their former masters,

And Shartan heard them.

Shartan rallies the elves

As the People paused to break bread at the foot

Of the hill the Tevinters called "the Lonely One,"

Shartan stood on the hilltop and spoke, saying:

"Some among you wish to flee back to your masters,

To throw yourselves at their feet and ask forgiveness.

You have left that path. It is already gone.

Your feet can never again tread the dust of Vol Dorma.

"He who asks for the mercy of the masters

Will stand accountable for murder and theft

And be made example for the slaves of other cities,

That they might not have the courage to rise up.

"They will taunt you and humiliate you

While they hang you in the marketplace.

They will pelt you with offal while they call you

Broken, a coward, and a failure.

"A dog might slink back to the hand it has bitten

And be forgiven, but a slave never.

If you would live, and live without fear, you must fight."

And the People heard the truth in Shartan's voice,

And some cursed themselves and their fate and despaired.

And others began to fashion spears and bows

From the branches of trees, and girded themselves

With bark and scraps torn from their sandals

And dug pits in the earth with their hands.

The elves ambush the legion

Darkness fell upon the Lonely One,

A night without moon or stars,

As the legion followed, like bloodhounds,

The trail of the rebels.

And when the hunters reached the foot

Of the solitary hill, they found nothing,

The trail of their quarry vanished, as if the People

Had taken wing.

The officers began to curse their men

And blame one another for losing the trail,

And the soldiers fell to bickering among themselves.

In silence all around them, the People crept out

From holes clawed in the earth, and with harvesting blades

And arrows chipped from stones,

Fell upon the unwary legion and slaughtered them to a man.

The elves celebrate their victory

And the People raised the blades of the fallen soldiers to the heavens

And rejoiced. And Shartan said to them:

"No longer are we hunted! We shall never again

Be prey, waiting to be struck down!

Let us take up the blades of our enemies

And carve a place for ourselves in this world!"

The People heard him, and girded themselves

In the armor of the dead

And sharpened their blades and arrows

And prepared for war.

The army of Andraste arrives

As the People danced over the corpses

Of slain soldiers, a thunder filled the air

And the ground trembled, and a hush fell over them,

As they knew a terrible omen had come.

From afar, they heard the sound

Of ten thousand voices raised in song,

And the marching of a great host.

Shartan goes forth to meet the army

Seeing an army beyond counting gathered in the distance,

Shartan said to the People

"Let us not fall into the jaws of the wolf together.

I will go alone and see what army comes,

Singing, to the land of Tevinter."

Across the empty plains Shartan crept

To where the great host camped, the light from countless fires

Guiding him through the darkness.

Then a great hand clamped down upon Shartan's neck,

And he was lifted into the air. And he looked into the eyes

Of a towering creature, taller than any legion soldier, featured like a man

But covered in fur like a beast and bearing a mighty shield.

Havard the Aegis greets Shartan

The creature spoke in a stern voice, saying:

"Why are you to come upon us alone,

Wearing the armor of our most hated foe,

When I can see you are no man of the legion?"

And Shartan answered him: "If you hate the legion,

Then I am your friend."

And the giant laughed, and set him back upon his feet,

Declaring: "Then the Aegis of Alamarri bids you welcome!

Follow me to the side of the Prophet."

Shartan meets Andraste

The Aegis led him to the center of the great host,

And Shartan saw that they counted men and women of all descriptions among them.

Many bore the scars of escaped slaves, and some had come west

From the coastlands, and they stood as equals beside the wild giant men of the South.

There, in the heart of them, sang a Lady radiant

And clad in armor of bright steel.

She paused her song to look upon Shartan,

And said to him: "All souls who take up the sword

Against Tevinter are welcome here.

Rest, and tell us of your battles."

And Shartan told her: "I cannot rest

While the People wait in darkness and fear."

So Andraste sent him with three of her attendants

To invite the People to come to her side.

And the People came, all astonished

To stand among Andraste's followers,

And she gave them food and drink and bade them sit

While Shartan gave her the tale of their uprising

And flight from Val Dorma.

When the tale was finished, Andraste said to Shartan:

"Truly, the Maker has called you, just as He called me,

To be a Light for your People.

The host you see before you march,

Bearing His will north, where we shall deliver it

To Minrathous city of magisters, and we shall tear down

The unassailable gates, and set all slaves free."

And Shartan looked upon the Prophet Andraste

And said: "The People will set ourselves free.

Your host from the South may march

Alongside us.

The giants of the South rose to their feet as one

And bowed. And Andraste said:

"It is done. We march as one."

—Shartan 9:1-9:28, Dissonant Verse

Shartan 10

The armies clash on Valarian Fields

At Shartan's word, the sky

Grew black with arrows.

At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords

Rang from their sheaths.

A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly, proclaiming:

Those who had been slaves were now free.

The legion fell before them

Like wheat before the scythe,

But the armies of Tevinter were numberless,

A sea of death which crashed upon

The Prophet and her army like waves.

Shartan rescues Andraste

The host of the Lady

Began to falter. The legion

Turned spear and sword, fire

And ice upon them, and the warriors

Of the Prophet were scattered,

Divided from their commanders

By magic, penned like cattle for slaughter.

Shartan saw that walls of ice

Surrounded Andraste and her warriors,

And he rallied the People.

And with arrows aflame,

The walls of magic melted

And the Prophet and her warriors were free.

Andraste names Shartan her champion

And the Prophet stood beside Shartan

And shouted to her host:

"Behold! Our champion!"

And gave to him the blade of her own mother

From her own scabbard, Glandivalis, saying:

"Take this, my champion,

And free our people forever."

And the Prophet and the People

Struck down the mages of the legion

And claimed the field together.

And before them, empty,

Outstretched lay the land

Which led to the gates of Minrathous.

—Shartan 10:1-10:7, Dissonant Verse

[superloves4]

We can always begin again - Chapter 3

Relationships: Celegorm/Aredhel, Curufin/Finrod (background) Summary: Celegorm didn't think he'd be granted mercy, that he'd be re-embodied or that he'd be welcome anywhere. Aredhel thought she'd never welcome him again after what he'd done. They were never good at staying away from each other. TW: none for this chapter but a warning: this is mostly canon compliant Celegorm, for what this fic is supposed to be this means Eol won't be beyond salvation (he is in only one chapter briefly but I felt this needed to be said) (Not to worry tho, I have another aretyel fic in the works where Eol is just the worst) A/N: I rewrote this chapter soooo many times, here's the result of my suffering.

Masterlist - also on AO3

The sun wasn't up yet when Celegorm crept down the stairs and out the door, he was granted neither bow nor arrow when he was re-embodied, it made sense although Celegorm would've argued to be a needless precaution, regardless, it meant he would have to do with whatever he could find.

That was how Aredhel found him when she opened the door to gather some rosemary for the day's food: hair up, shirtless, legs hooked on a tree branch as he hoisted his torso to his knees. She almost laughed.

"You know," she told him "Mobility comes faster if you allow yourself to rest."

He heaved himself up again "Rest is for the dead."

Aredhel decided it was not worth to remind him that he was just that merely yesterday.

"You made an herb garden?" was his panted question.

She shrugged "It's convenient."

"You used to just gather directly from the forest."

"You used to be kind."

It was frustrating how gracefully he jumped from the tree, she had felt wobble footed her entire first year of re-embodiment, pushing jealousy aside she stared defiantly at him, gray eyes she used to know well. The desire to speak to him as if time had never gone by was more easy to push aside when she looked into his eyes.

There were edges there now.

He didn't speak yet, instead he searched for something in her eyes, perhaps he looked in hope of finding that familiarity they used to share when they were children, running away from parties and into the garden, hoping their feet would take them as far as the forests. Would she ever be able to see her friend in this strange man in front of her now? Did she want to?

"You're afraid of me."

She scoffed at his conceited assertion, Aredhel hadn't been afraid of Celegorm since the day she'd seen him fall from his own horse after laughing too hard at a joke.

"I'm not afraid of you," she hissed.

He took a step forward and she took a step back.

His gray eyes took notice of her skipped breath, the way her body moved, all but the throat, terribly unprotected but raising her head in defiance.

"I know," he breathed "how people look when they are afraid of me..."

Aredhel grimaced in disgust "I'm not afraid of you." And she turned around and walked back to the house. Celegorm sighed and berated himself, he hadn't meant to imply weakness. He knew she'd never forgive him such an offence.

He considered going inside an talking to her but he noticed Maeglin was staring at him from the top of the terrace, he had no idea when he'd arrived or if perhaps he'd observed the whole scene, but the man didn't speak, simply continued to watch him. Celegorm wasn't sure how to behave so he let him continue his observation, he'd talk to Aredhel when they were of clear mind so instead he picked a nearby tree branch and fashioned it into a javelin, he couldn't let his accuracy wane simply because he had no bow.

"You weren't my childhood hero."

Celegorm turned around in surprise, Maeglin gaze was something he couldn't truly decipher.

"You don't need to tell me," he shrugged then turned and sent the javelin flying "I enjoy teasing, no need to take me seriously."

That didn't seem to please the other, however, as he furrowed his brows.

"Is it true, then?"

"What exactly? There are many 'truths' about me, you see."

Maeglin raised his chin "My mother's stories," he said "that you speak the language of animals?"

He had to laugh, it was such an innocent question that somehow Celegorm felt lighter simply by hearing it, even Maeglin's inscrutable eyes seemed younger then, how old even was he? Celegorm smiled.

"My personal favorites are worms, they have the most interesting speech pattern you'll ever hear," he explained and watched as Maeglin seemed just a little less defensive than before "Although your mother was more fond of the hounds, alas she didn't share my passion for patterns."

"When I was a child," Maeglin took a step forward "she told me you'd be able to tell me what my pet mole was saying, she told me much of your brothers and about you, I thought you'd simply appear one day to teach me as well."

Maeglin looked away.

"I wished to meet you then, you know," he crossed his arms, gaze set somewhere far from there. This time Celegorm didn't even need to wonder where before Maeglin whipped around to stare at him.

"Did you love her?"

That question surprised him "Irìssë? Of course I did, I still do, she was my best friend, how could I not love her?"

"Not her, Luthièn."

Celegorm didn't dare breath, he knew someone would ask eventually, he expected all the usual accusations and thought he was prepared but now under Maeglin simple question he faltered. There wasn't even a hint of anger or disgust in his words, Celegorm looked around, searching for an answer among the trees perhaps, he wasn't sure. He never expected this and for the longest time he hadn't wanted to think about it.

He was silent for a moment,  hands sweating, he paced around, before he could finally stand before Maeglin.

"Most people would say I don't know what love is."

Is all he could find as an answer, he had closed his mind to all memory of Luthièn and the brief moment their paths entwined and the way it changed his own. However, he was aware of what people thought of him, his keen ears never letting a rumour fly. He wasn't lying or exaggerating, Celegorm knew what people looked like when they were afraid of him.

Maeglin nodded, although Celegorm had no idea if it was as an acknowledgement or if he agreed with the sentiment, but Maeglin didn't clarify, simply stared at him.

"You don't know anything about me, do you?"

Celegorm shook his head.

Maeglin raised his chin and pointed towards the house.

"She doesn't let me touch her either."

Celegorm frowned "But you're her son."

"I'm also my father's son. Some destinies are stronger than others."

[prehistoricpatristics]

Orthodox Christian Prayer Rules

FIRST DISCLAIMER: This is aimed at inquirers, or dvoverie practitioners who are not associated with a Church or spiritual father. If you are associated with a church and have a spiritual father, go to them, not me. There are 3 major components to a prayer rule in Eastern Orthodoxy: Proper Measure, Consistency, and Quality.

Proper Measure: a proper measure allows a person to grow both spiritually and earthly, you shouldn't over do your prayer rule, but you shouldn't be underdoing it either. Do not take on a long rule that you cannot reasonably achieve.

Consistency: you should always be consistent in prayer as this is the point of a prayer rule, always aim to 'pray without ceasing' (1 Thess. 5:17).

Quality: A quality prayer rule is always better than quantity. The quality of prayer is determined by the attention of the mind, and the depth of repentance in the heart. If prayer becomes a chore, or simply you reading from a page, you do not have a quality prayer rule.

Outline for Morning Prayer:

(this layout is mimicked for the evening prayers, the difference mainly comes from the difference in psalms)

NOTE: if you are dual faith, and wish to include prayers to other entities, I would insert them either before or after the Prayers to Saints

Introductory Prayers

One of the 6 morning Psalms:

Intercessions for the living and dead

Psalm 51

Doxology

Personal Dialogue with God

Prayers to Saints

Jesus Prayer

Dismissal Prayer

Introductory Prayers Suggestions

Begin with: 'In the name of the Father Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen Glory to you our God , Glory be to Thee!'

Choose any number of:

Prayer to Holy Spirit Heavenly King, Comforter, the Spirit of Truth, present in all places and filling all things, Treasury of Goodness and Giver of life: come and abide in us. Cleanse us from every stain of sin and save our souls, O Gracious Lord.

Trisagion Prayer

Holy God. Holy Mighty. Holy Immortal Have mercy on us.(3)

Glory to the Father, and the Son and the Holy Spirit, both now and forever and to the ages of ages. Amen

All Holy Trinity, have mercy on us. Lord, forgive our sins. Master, pardon our transgressions. Holy One, visit and heal our infirmities, for the glory of Your Name.

Lord, have mercy.(3)

Glory to the Father, and the Son and the Holy Spirit, both now and forever and to the ages of ages. Amen

Lord's Prayer

Our Father,

Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name.

Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For Yours is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, both now and forever and to the ages of ages. Amen.

Morning Psalms

Psalm 3

LORD, how they have increased who trouble me! Many are they who rise up against me. Many are they who say of me, “There is no help for him in God.” Selah But You, O LORD, are a shield for me, My glory and the One who lifts up my head. I cried to the LORD with my voice, And He heard me from His holy hill. Selah I lay down and slept; I awoke, for the LORD sustained me. I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people Who have set themselves against me all around. Arise, O LORD; Save me, O my God! For You have struck all my enemies on the cheekbone; You have broken the teeth of the ungodly. Salvation belongs to the LORD. Your blessing is upon Your people.

Psalm 63

O LORD, do not rebuke me in Your wrath, Nor chasten me in Your hot displeasure! For Your arrows pierce me deeply, And Your hand presses me down.

There is no soundness in my flesh Because of Your anger, Nor any health in my bones Because of my sin. For my iniquities have gone over my head; Like a heavy burden they are too heavy for me. My wounds are foul and festering Because of my foolishness.

I am troubled, I am bowed down greatly; I go mourning all the day long. For my loins are full of inflammation, And there is no soundness in my flesh. I am feeble and severely broken; I groan because of the turmoil of my heart.

Lord, all my desire is before You; And my sighing is not hidden from You. My heart pants, my strength fails me; As for the light of my eyes, it also has gone from me.

My loved ones and my friends stand aloof from my plague, And my relatives stand afar off. Those also who seek my life lay snares for me; Those who seek my hurt speak of destruction, And plan deception all the day long.

But I, like a deaf man, do not hear; And I am like a mute who does not open his mouth. Thus I am like a man who does not hear, And in whose mouth is no response.

For in You, O LORD, I hope; You will hear, O Lord my God. For I said, “Hear me, lest they rejoice over me, Lest, when my foot slips, they exalt themselves against me.”

For I am ready to fall, And my sorrow is continually before me. For I will declare my iniquity; I will be in anguish over my sin. But my enemies are vigorous, and they are strong; And those who hate me wrongfully have multiplied. Those also who render evil for good, They are my adversaries, because I follow what is good.

Do not forsake me, O LORD; O my God, be not far from me! Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation!

Psalm 63

O God, You are my God; Early will I seek You; My soul thirsts for You; My flesh longs for You In a dry and thirsty land Where there is no water. So I have looked for You in the sanctuary, To see Your power and Your glory.

Because Your lovingkindness is better than life, My lips shall praise You. Thus I will bless You while I live; I will lift up my hands in Your name. My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness, And my mouth shall praise You with joyful lips.

When I remember You on my bed, I meditate on You in the night watches. Because You have been my help, Therefore in the shadow of Your wings I will rejoice. My soul follows close behind You; Your right hand upholds me.

But those who seek my life, to destroy it, Shall go into the lower parts of the earth. They shall fall by the sword; They shall be a portion for jackals.

But the king shall rejoice in God; Everyone who swears by Him shall glory; But the mouth of those who speak lies shall be stopped.

Psalm 88

1 O LORD, God of my salvation, I have cried out day and night before You. 2 Let my prayer come before You; Incline Your ear to my cry.

For my soul is full of troubles, And my life draws near to the grave. I am counted with those who go down to the pit; I am like a man who has no strength, Adrift among the dead, Like the slain who lie in the grave, Whom You remember no more, And who are cut off from Your hand.

You have laid me in the lowest pit, In darkness, in the depths. Your wrath lies heavy upon me, And You have afflicted me with all Your waves. Selah You have put away my acquaintances far from me; You have made me an abomination to them; I am shut up, and I cannot get out; My eye wastes away because of affliction.

LORD, I have called daily upon You; I have stretched out my hands to You. Will You work wonders for the dead? Shall the dead arise and praise You? Selah Shall Your lovingkindness be declared in the grave? Or Your faithfulness in the place of destruction? Shall Your wonders be known in the dark? And Your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?

But to You I have cried out, O LORD, And in the morning my prayer comes before You. LORD, why do You cast off my soul? Why do You hide Your face from me? I have been afflicted and ready to die from my youth; I suffer Your terrors; I am distraught. Your fierce wrath has gone over me; Your terrors have cut me off. They came around me all day long like water; They engulfed me altogether. Loved one and friend You have put far from me, And my acquaintances into darkness.

Friday - Psalm 103 Psalm of David.

1 Bless the LORD, O my soul; And all that is within me, bless His holy name! 2 Bless the LORD, O my soul, And forget not all His benefits: 3 Who forgives all your iniquities, Who heals all your diseases, 4 Who redeems your life from destruction, Who crowns you with lovingkindness and tender mercies, 5 Who satisfies your mouth with good things, So that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s. 6 The LORD executes righteousness And justice for all who are oppressed. 7 He made known His ways to Moses, His acts to the children of Israel. 8 The LORD is merciful and gracious, Slow to anger, and abounding in mercy. 9 He will not always strive with us, Nor will He keep His anger forever. 10 He has not dealt with us according to our sins, Nor punished us according to our iniquities. 11 For as the heavens are high above the earth, So great is His mercy toward those who fear Him; 12 As far as the east is from the west, So far has He removed our transgressions from us. 13 As a father pities his children, So the LORD pities those who fear Him. 14 For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust. 15 As for man, his days are like grass; As a flower of the field, so he flourishes. 16 For the wind passes over it, and it is gone, And its place remembers it no more. 17 But the mercy of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting On those who fear Him, And His righteousness to children’s children, 18 To such as keep His covenant, And to those who remember His commandments to do them. 19 The LORD has established His throne in heaven, And His kingdom rules over all. 20 Bless the LORD, you His angels, Who excel in strength, who do His word, Heeding the voice of His word. 21 Bless the LORD, all you His hosts, You ministers of His, who do His pleasure. 22 Bless the LORD, all His works, In all places of His dominion.

Bless the Lord, O my soul!

Psalm 143

Hear my prayer, O LORD, Give ear to my supplications! In Your faithfulness answer me, And in Your righteousness. Do not enter into judgment with Your servant, For in Your sight no one living is righteous. For the enemy has persecuted my soul; He has crushed my life to the ground; He has made me dwell in darkness, Like those who have long been dead. Therefore my spirit is overwhelmed within me; My heart within me is distressed. I remember the days of old; I meditate on all Your works; I muse on the work of Your hands. I spread out my hands to You; My soul longs for You like a thirsty land. Selah Answer me speedily, O LORD; My spirit fails! Do not hide Your face from me, Lest I be like those who go down into the pit. Cause me to hear Your lovingkindness in the morning, For in You do I trust; Cause me to know the way in which I should walk, For I lift up my soul to You. Deliver me, O LORD, from my enemies; In You I take shelter. Teach me to do Your will, For You are my God; Your Spirit is good. Lead me in the land of uprightness. Revive me, O LORD, for Your name’s sake! For Your righteousness’ sake bring my soul out of trouble. In Your mercy cut off my enemies, And destroy all those who afflict my soul; For I am Your servant.

Intercessions for the living and dead (There are many to choose from, this is my favourite)

Lord, we pray for peace in the world. For all the faithful and Orthodox Christians. For our Archbishop (name), our Bishop (name), and all our brothers and sisters in Christ. (If you are part of a church) For our parents, our brothers and sisters, our children, our relatives and friends, and all people. For those who hate us and those who love us. For those who work with us and those who serve us. For those who have asked us, unworthy as we are, to pray for them. For travelers by land, sea and air. For prisoners and captives. For those who are hungry, those who are suffering, and those who are sick. For those departed from this life in the hope of the resurrection. Through the prayers of our holy Fathers, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and save us. Amen.

Psalm 50

Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Your lovingkindness; according to the multitude of Your tender mercies, blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against You, You only, have I sinned, and done this evil in Your sight that You may be found just when You speak, and blameless when You judge. Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin my mother conceived me. Behold, You desire truth in the inward parts, and in the hidden part You will make me to know wisdom. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Make me to hear joy and gladness, that the bones which You have broken may rejoice. Hide Your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from Your presence, and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and uphold me with Your generous Spirit. Then I will teach transgressors Your ways, and sinners shall be converted to You. Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God, the God of my salvation, and my tongue shall sing aloud of Your righteousness. O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall show forth Your praise. For You do not desire sacrifice, or else I would give it; You do not delight in burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, a broken and a contrite heart –– these, O God, You will not despise, Do good in Your good pleasure to Zion; build the walls of Jerusalem. Then You shall be pleased with the sacrifices of righteousness, with burnt offering and whole burnt offering; then they shall offer bulls on Your altar.

Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Doxology

Glory to God, Who has shown us the Light!

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, good will toward men!

We praise You! We bless You! We worship You! We glorify You and give thanks to You for Your great glory! O Lord God, Heavenly King, God the Father Almighty! O Lord, the Only-Begotten Son, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit! O Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father, Who take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us! You, Who take away the sins of the world, receive our prayer! You, Who sit on the right hand of God the Father, have mercy on us! For You alone are holy, and You alone are Lord. You alone, O Lord Jesus Christ, are most high in the glory of God the Father! Amen!

I will give thanks to You every day and praise Your Name forever and ever. Lord, You have been our refuge from generation to generation! I said, "Lord, have mercy on me. Heal my Soul, for I have sinned against You!" Lord, I flee to You. Teach me to do Your will, for You are my God. For with You is the fountain of Life, and In Your light shall we see light. Continue Your lovingkindness to those who know You. Vouchsafe, O Lord, to keep us this day without sin. Blessed are You, O Lord, the God of our fathers, and praised and glorified is Your Name for ever. Amen.

Let Your mercy be upon us, O Lord, even as we have set our hope on You. Blessed are You, O Lord; teach me Your statutes. Blessed are You, O Master; make me to understand Your commandments. Blessed are You, O Holy One; enlighten me with Your precepts. Your mercy endures for ever, O Lord! Do not despise the works of Your hands! To You belongs worship, to You belongs praise, to You belongs glory: to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Personal Dialogue with God

Prayers to Saints

(Research prayers and Akathists to saints that you venerate)

Jesus Prayer

'Lord Jesus Christ, Have mercy on me, a sinner' x10, 33, 100, or 300

Dismissal Prayer

Most holy Theotokos, save us! More honorable than the cherubim and more glorious beyond compare than the seraphim! Without corruption you gave birth to God the Word. True Theotokos, we magnify you! Glory to You, O Christ, our God and our hope, glory to You! Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen. Lord, have mercy! Lord, have mercy! Lord, have mercy!

Through the prayers of our holy fathers, O Lord Jesus Christ, our God, have mercy on us and save us. Amen.

Outline for Evening Prayer:

Introductory Prayers

One of the 6 evening Psalms:

Intercessions for the living and dead

Psalm 51

Doxology

Personal Dialogue with God

Prayers to Saints

Jesus Prayer

Dismissal Prayer

Introductory Prayers Suggestions (same as morning prayers, use the same or different ones)

Evening Psalms

Psalm 103 (104)

Bless the Lord, O my soul! O Lord my God, You are very great! You are clothed with honor and majesty, and cover Yourself with light as with a garment. You have stretched out the heavens like a tent and have laid the beams of Your chambers on the waters. You make the clouds Your chariot and ride on the wings of the wind. You make the winds Your messengers, and fire and flame Your ministers. You have set the earth on its foundations so that it should never be shaken. You have covered it with the deep as with a garment; the waters stood above the mountains. At Your rebuke they fled; at the sound of Your thunder they took flight. The mountains rose, the valleys sank down to the place which You appointed for them. You set a bound which they should not pass so that they might not again cover the earth. You make springs gush forth in the valleys;

they flow between the hills, they give drink to every beast of the field; the wild donkeys quench their thirst. By them the birds of the air have their habitation; they sing among the branches. From Your lofty abode You water the mountains; the earth is satisfied with the fruit of Your work. You have caused the grass to grow for the cattle, and plants for people to cultivate, that they may bring forth food from the earth, and wine to gladden their heart, oil to make their faces shine and bread to strengthen their hearts. The trees of the Lord are watered abundantly, the cedars of Lebanon which He planted. In them the birds build their nests; the stork has her home in the fir trees. The high mountains are for the wild goats; the rocks are a refuge for the badgers. You have made the moon to mark the seasons; the sun knows its time for setting. You have made darkness, and it is night, when all the beasts of the forest creep forth. The young lions roar for their prey, seeking their food from God. When the sun rises, they gather together and lie down in their dens. People go forth to their work and to their labors until the evening. O Lord, how manifold are Your works! In wisdom have You made them all; the earth is full of Your creatures. Yonder is the sea, great and wide, which teems with things innumerable, living things both small and great. There go the ships,

and Leviathan which You formed to sport in it. These all look to You to give them their food in due season. When You give to them they gather it up; when You open Your hand they are filled with good things. When You hide Your face they are dismayed; when You take away their breath they die and return to their dust. When You send forth Your Spirit they are created; and You renew the face of the earth. May the glory of the Lord endure forever, may the Lord rejoice in His works, who looks on the earth and it trembles, who touches the mountains and they smoke. I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being. May my meditation be pleasing to Him, for I rejoice in the Lord. Let sinners be consumed from the earth and let the wicked be no more. Bless the Lord, O my soul! Praise the Lord!

Psalm 140 (141)

Lord I Call Lord, I have cried unto Thee, hearken unto me. Hearken unto me, O Lord. Lord, I have cried unto Thee, hearken unto me; attend to the voice of my supplication, when I cry unto Thee. Hearken unto me, O Lord.

Let my prayer be set forth as incense before Thee, the lifting up of my hands as an evening sacrifice. Hearken unto me, O Lord.             Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips. Do not incline my heart to any evil thing, to practice wicked works with men who work iniquity; and do not let me eat of their delicacies. Let the righteous strike me; it shall be a kindness. And let him reprove me; it shall be as excellent oil; let my head not refuse it. For still my prayer is against the deeds of the wicked. Their judges are overthrown by the sides of the cliff, and they hear my words, for they are sweet. Our bones are scattered at the mouth of the grave, as when one plows and breaks up the earth. But my eyes are upon You, O GOD the Lord; in You I take refuge; do not leave my soul destitute. Keep me from the snares which they have laid for me, and from the traps of the workers of iniquity. Let the wicked fall into their own nets, while I escape safely.

Intercessions for the living and dead (same as morning)

Psalm 50 (same as morning)

Doxology (same as morning)

Personal Dialogue with God

Prayers to Saints

(Research prayers and Akathists to saints that you venerate)

Jesus Prayer

'Lord Jesus Christ, Have mercy on me, a sinner' x10, 33, 100, or 300

Dismissal Prayer (same as morning)

Prayers before and after Meals

Before Meals In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. The Lord’s Prayer Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Glory to the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, now and ever and to the ages of ages. Amen. Lord, have mercy. (3)

Christ our God, bless the food and drink of Your servants, for You are holy always, now and ever and to the ages of ages. Amen. After Meals We thank You, Christ our God, that You have satisfied us with Your earthly blessings. Deprive us not of Your heavenly kingdom. As You came among Your disciples after the resurrection, O Savior, and gave them peace, come also among us, grant us peace and save us. Amen. Glory to You, Lord and King! You have gladdened our hearts through Your earthly gifts. Fill us also with the gift of Your Holy Spirit, that we may abound in every good work to the glory of Your name. Amen. We thank You, Lord, Giver of all good things, for these Your gifts and all Your mercies, and we bless Your holy name forever. Amen.

Ways to customise prayers before and after meals for dual faith practitioners

You can personalise these by invoking additional spirits/deities in the same prayers, such as:

'Christ our God, Hestia the Blessed of the hearth, bless the food and drink of Your servants, for You are holy always, now and ever and to the ages of ages. Amen.'

This is an example for a dual-faith practitioner combining Hellenic Polytheism and Orthodox Christianity, but this could be altered for any other spirit to be invoked.

[shinidamachu]

Reach for Me

SUMMARY: Where are you? I can't find you Broke in two, left behind you Reach for me I'm falling deep

WORDS: 779

GENRE: angst

FANDOM: Inukag

FORMAT: drabble

ALSO FOUND ON: AO3

She had never looked more beautiful.

And Inuyasha should know.

For countless moons now, he had seen Kagome in every possible way. Be it wearing her strange modern clothes, his Fire Rate robe or nothing at all, on the rare occasions in which he got blessed enough to accidentally find himself in the presence of her naked form. 

He had seen all kinds of emotions grace her face, a few of which he didn’t even have a name for, but something about her made a diligent student out of him, longing to learn. 

And he had seen her under the light of a thousand stars — on secret dates that were neither a secret nor would any of them dare to call it a date —, bathed in sunshine, in moonlight, with wind in her hair, wet from the pouring rain, or the shower, or sweat, humidity highlighting the curl of her strands just the way he liked it. He had seen her sleeping, singing, dancing. Crying for his sake, asking to stay by his side. With her cheeks painted a deep scarlet from something stupid he said or a blossoming into a soft pink from something bold he did. 

It didn’t matter the occasion, the part of herself Kagome decided to gift him with. Inuyasha was always there to receive it, to carve these little moments on his mind for as long as he lived — the moments Kagome had been so absurdly gorgeous it made his heart ache.

And yet, nothing could compare to the heavenly vision currently beside him.

Inuyasha couldn’t explain why, exactly. In theory, there were hardly any differences between the Kagome standing right there and the one he grew fond of — dressed in her school uniform, bow in hand, remaining arrows safely resting inside her quiver. Except this time she was drained, understandably so. Her face was uncharacteristically dirty and, he most definitely knew, hidden bruises had to be sporting her skin. 

Still, Kagome smiled. She smiled like she wasn’t about to pass out from exhaustion. She smiled like it was natural, like she couldn’t help it. She smiled like someone who had just accomplished their life long mission, like after risking everything, giving everything to achieve it, she had finally fulfilled her purpose on this Earth. 

She smiled like it was all worth it. And following her line of vision to find an empty handed monk and a jubilant demon slayer, Inuyasha couldn’t deny it was.

But he should never have looked away.

It only took a second, a false sense of security willing him to let his guard down and suddenly he feared the last thing he would ever see from her was that dazzling smile disappearing in favor of sheer panic while his clawed hands reached out to hers and missed by a hair, the meido taking her with no warning, no mercy, the portal that connected their worlds vanishing as well.

Only their bond transcended the very rules of the twist of fate that had brought them together. Nothing could keep Kagome from him. Not time, not space, not destiny itself.

Inuyasha opened a scar on the fabric of the universe and navigated a sea of monsters, only to get to her, only to find her. It was no surprise that he did and it was no surprise that she was waiting for him to come, because the definite truth, the undeniable fact neither Naraku or the sacred jewel seemed to understand, was that Kagome came into this world to be with him and he was born for her as well.

That knowledge culminated into a long time coming kiss, his thoughts consumed by all things Kagome, her sweet taste on his lips, his arms around her, exactly where they belonged. Everything else seemed to have melted away and he wouldn’t have minded staying that way forever, but Kagome had a wish to make.

It sounded fitting that she would be the one to save them all and Inuyasha was relieved to return her to her family like he promised. Kagome ran to her worried sick mother and they hugged tight as she tried to explain what happened.

She barely had the time to thank him before Inuyasha was blinded by the lights. Now he was the one slipping from her fingers. Before they could react, before they could say goodbye, he was forcefully thrown back into his own era.

But he knew, he knew that she would come back to him the same way he went back for her. No matter how long the wait, no matter what would take, Inuyasha was sure.

He was going to see that smile again.

A/N.: so a long time ago I posted an ask game in which I'd write a little something based on the songs or lyrics people would sent me and someone suggested "Reach for Me by Skillet" which I immediately associated with this especific moment of the series.

Plus today's prompt for @inukag-week is "smile" and I have an unhealthy obsession with Kagome's right before she falls into the meido, so there you have it.

[orfeoarte]

Tower of Three

Chapter 1: Scorched surroundings

Read on Ao3

"Times are changing, pendahn. I don't like those clouds, the way they stir on the summit," he hesitated, voice dropping in secret shared with the underbrush, lit only by the flickering wick of a lard candle. "I- I'll follow you, but please don't do anything stupid, will you?"

"Fancy yourself the voice of reason? I'm climbin'. If you don't like it, you can well stay behind."

The Wolf, and the Bosmer are forced to unite on an Odyssey under the Dragonborn's command. To break the mark of a world in disarray, they must make an accord: after all, what use is a hero if her thread is split in three?

Riverwood. a tranquil place, with little to write home about. Saathel thought of it as a slight downgrade from her previous life in the depths of a wooded area most certainly ruled over by the postulates of serious Nordsmen and their grave voices. She, in all certainty, lacked the will to perceive them as anything other than the sad attempts they made to rule over sacred wilderness rather than form a covenant with it, as she knew Holy, so she hunted and assembled her shelter and supplies out of those carcasses. Bone, sinew and skin were all she needed to survive the inclemencies of Skyrim’s weather. That unforgiving cold that seeped into one’s very insides— when near claimed by it Saathel liked to remind herself why it was that she was there. Sometimes, that was all that kept her going.

Though close to the town, Saathel liked to keep herself unseen, trading only when necessity brought her to dire bartering, known only by a merchant and his mule. It was a quiet life. Lonely.

She hadn’t been expecting plumes of smoke to rise from Helgen, a morning during her earliest hunts. Like most things unexpected, it beckoned to the part of her mind that didn’t know better. In retrospect, perhaps she should have stayed put, ignored the fires, ignored the obvious silhouette of a dragon, rising from the settlement and slicing clouds with its wings.

A dragon. A tale as impossible could bore its most faithful reader by overstating the incredulousness of its witnesses, but in this situation truth was present: Saathel dropped her bow, mouth ajar. She stood there frozen, the only sign that she lived still in the miniscule droplets of condensed warmth that hung in the cold air as she breathed.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

The thick blanket of cumulonimbus above spoke both of cold weather and a chance of precipitation— and a perfect hideaway for the embodiment of death and fire, whose getaway Saathel could no longer track.

After watching for a good handful of minutes, ears twitching from her over-excited senses trained keenly on Helgen's rising smoke, she resolved that action was the only choice.

The dragon had left, there seemed to be no more unrest in the vaulted sky above the town. Ensuring that it had not made for her portion of wooded sanctuary was a task Saathel performed hastily, feverish, eyes darting to and fro. She discovered soon enough that there was simply no trace of the beast, the ground's twigs and pebbles did not rattle from an impact nearby, and her path was clear from her campsite to the rubble.

With a backpack put together by shaking hands and slung over her shoulders, she set out quickly on her feet.

Accompanying Saathel were her hunting bow and quiver, and a lumber-axe she had taken up for survival in the cold climate when much to her chagrin, no amount of furs could tide over the damp bite of winter. Her weapons would soon prove useful, as she was surprised by a half-singed mare fleeing the town, questing in pain and barrelling towards her.

In a single act the beast had an arrow protruding from its eye socket, Saathel's drawing hand as quick as the projectile itself. She leapt out of the way as the horse keeled over from the sheer impact strength; piercing through eyeball and nerve, in a diagonal straight into the brain, it was dead within seconds. Mercy was written all over the shaft of the arrow as she pulled it out, a boot holding down the mare's heavy skull. Its flank was burned, flesh melted together, the skin connecting its thigh to the trunk a mass of reddish pink wrinkles and blackened splotches. The scent of ruined meat made Saathel retch.

"Y'ffre keep you," she sighed, wiping the arrow down on a piece of leather and slipping it back into the quiver. She knew the spot. Though burned horses weren't her choice of food, no child of the Green could leave such a bounty unused. Sharing with the wolves and foxes was not an issue, the beasts were to her as brothers. Her people knew their song and story as Y’ffre had told it even this far in the North, cold ice Skyrim housed but a different part of Y’ffre’s creation, the one where mountains walked the skyway to meet with the stars, instead of tamarinds, soursops and magnolias.

Her boots slanted in a diagonal across the slippery slope leading towards the valley to ease the mer’s descent down the scene of havoc, the footprint of a passed dragon whose return she still feared enough to cause nervous glances back and forth, and to the sides. Saathel crouched to receive the encroaching scent of fiery substrate, ember and char. It awakened a form of primal unease in her to smell the remains of timber houses and thatched roofs engulfed by flames. Spewing smoke. Those threads of blistering heat weren’t the product of a single uncaring mortal, but spun by an unworldly demiurge against which she was powerless.

Calm, Saathel, she reasoned with herself. You’re thinking in the language of prey. But her own thoughts offered little in the way of solace when she ducked under a tree’s branches and saw the thawing drip, heat from the initial blast melting away at what was supposed to be a mountainous morning frost, impassive and perennial. Her encasing of fur, too, felt heavy instead of comforting.

Yet as she approached poor Helgen the heat became a part of her surroundings, and hardly more than in the Valenwood. Out came her thick gloves, aided by a tug with her teeth and stuffed inside her side-pouch. Huffing and puffing her way through pylons of still-rising smoke, stepping carefully about corpses made into coal, smelling as that horse had, she was dry-heaving by the time she set foot within Helgen proper. The first thing she noticed was the scene of an execution in the heart of the city. Some poor fool had given their neck; presumably more had been queued when the dragon struck, the unlucky bastards.

There was nothing in Helgen left to salvage. Trails ran cold out of the village where some survived, yet two similar paths caught her eye before waning. Inside a building that somehow still stood whole those trails continued. Saathel opened the door. She looked around, coughing into the inside of her softened pelt scarf and lowered it to take a deep breath allowing the scents to flow into the back of her palate. The scents then spoke to her. The place was as a prison once she delved deeper in pursuit of the still-hot trails of possible survivors. Skeletons. Dead Nords and dead Imperials alike flanking the cages holding excarnated corpses of prisoners who never knew of the dragon attack. Sometimes, to be dead is a luxury.

Too far in to turn back and give in to the nagging thoughts of living a life of minding her own business, she descended into a collapsed series of tunnels dug underground.

“Mole-folk, these Northerners. Just how far have they dug into the—”

A faint sound stopped her. It was only for her ears, and came from far down and out. She paused, tilting face and ears to better catch the cry in their shell, as her eyes grew wide and her pupils dilated from adrenaline.

“Help!”

Survivors, at least one of them. Saathel threw herself forward in a frantic scrambling run, abandoning all of her aboveground elegance in favor of speed. Unknown ground as her enemy, eventually she made it to where the tunnels merged with a cave system. Spider corpses littered the floor. Those were Frostbite spiders, hunters endowed with a paralyzing venom that left their pray sluggish or, in worse cases, surrendered to a thick stupor. Frustration grew in her, there was no time for harvesting their venom sacs when someone might be dying further down. Guano covered the roof and walls, nitric acid impregnated her every breath, and Saathel cursed her heroic streak for deciding to play rescue brigade and woodland patrol.

Soon she was at the mouth of a large chamber within the cave. A colossal spider curled its dead limbs in on itself, and nearby were two paralyzed men. Nords, the both of them, she could smell their poisoned blood oozing from puncture wounds. One of them blearily opened his eyes and his hand shook as he stretched his arm out towards her. “Help us, please.”

Saathel knocked both men out with a precise blow to the back of their heads.

[onthesandsofdreams]

A Stark She Remains [6/?]

Fandom: ASoIaF Character: Sansa Stark Prompt: @fictober-event #10 Summary: ‘Is this normal?’ Sansa asks herself as she watches Meryn Trant’s body being taken away, and feels nothing but relief and joy.

On AO3

‘Is this normal?’ Sansa asks herself as she watches Meryn Trant’s body being taken away, and feels nothing but relief and joy.

And truth be told, she does not have an answer. After all, she is turning into a bit of a bloodthirsty person. But… is she not a Stark? Yes, she is. And her father had spoken of both her late uncle and aunt as having the wolfblood. But, was this different?

No.

Her house history had members who did what they had to do to protect their people. They fought back. The did not rolled and showed their bellies. They were wolves who haunted and ended with bloodied maws.

She could not yield a sword, or dagger and she did not know how to string bow and arrow; but she could command death. And so, she pretends to be shocked and scared, lets those present see a simpering girl, while she pulls strings from the dark.

She knew that she had to channel her inner Arya, and by the Gods, did she miss her sister. She prayed that Arya had managed to escape. Because no matter what, Arya was her sister, and she loved her no less than she loved Robb, and Bran and Rickon. And even Jon, even if she only called him half brother. Her heart yearned for her family.

She yearned for her pack.

That is when she had a moment of clarity, as she made her way back to the Godswoods. She realized that she was not the sheep the Lannisters and Joffrey made her to be. She was no less a wolf than her father had been.

After all, the wolves had to be quiet when hunting.

She sits on the ground and rest her head against the trunk of the tree, closes her eyes and savors the warmth of the sun in her skin. Soon, she will have to add more names, and these will be big ones.

She would not give them the opportunity to escape. She was the wolf hunting in the dark and she scented prey. And she would not give up soon. Not until she was safe.

And then, oh.

Tyrion Lannister would also have to go. Such a shame, he had been good in stopping her beatings, but there was only so much that he could do. As soon as the Queen left her apartments or Joffrey remembered he was King, anything could happen, especially now that Ser Jaime was dead. But whose name to add first? Tyrion or Tywin or Kevan. Tywin, the answer was Tywin and she almost felt silly for having to question which name.

Without Lord Tywin, House Lannister would lose a powerful backer. The Queen would not always remain in control, Joffrey would come of age and she doubted that he would allow his mother to do as she pleased. So, that decided it. First Tywin, then Tyrion and then Ser Kevan.

Joffrey would follow them.

And she would watch as the Queen crumbled before finally writing her name. Oh well, such a shame that things had to be that way. She had asked for mercy for her father and the result was his head on a pike. So, she would not stop now. And when she was finally home, she would rest and cry and mourn.

Not a day before.

[orthodoxadventure]

Psalm 57 (NKJV)

Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me! For my soul trusts in You; And in the shadow of Your wings I will make my refuge, Until these calamities have passed by.

I will cry out to God Most High, To God who performs all things for me. He shall send from heaven and save me; He reproaches the one who would swallow me up. Selah God shall send forth His mercy and His truth.

My soul is among lions; I lie among the sons of men Who are set on fire, Whose teeth are spears and arrows, And their tongue a sharp sword. Be exalted, O God, above the heavens; Let Your glory be above all the earth.

They have prepared a net for my steps; My soul is bowed down; They have dug a pit before me; Into the midst of it they themselves have fallen. Selah

My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and give praise. Awake, my glory! Awake, lute and harp! I will awaken the dawn.

I will praise You, O Lord, among the peoples; I will sing to You among the nations. For Your mercy reaches unto the heavens, And Your truth unto the clouds.

Be exalted, O God, above the heavens; Let Your glory be above all the earth.