#verse: the martyr

[shinobinvku]

The arrangement was political, with a two-year-long engagement due to war. Ryuketsu Tatsuo, the rightful ruler of Ryugu-jo of the Land of Rivers, had traveled to Konohagakure to form alliances with the Senju Clan, securing a large enough army to reclaim ownership of his land from his tyrannical and emotionally unstable elder brother, Ryuketsu Ryuuga. In exchange, Konohagakure and the Senju would reap the benefits of Ryugu-jo’s vast supply of iron ore and enriched minerals. As a testament to good faith, the Ryuketsu and Senju Clans would join their houses through matrimony. 

Underneath a dreary, gray sky, the beautiful viridescent world Chitose once knew fades from the palanquin window until nothing looks familiar anymore. For weeks, she, her elder brother, and an entourage of guards and servants have traveled along the high road across the snowy terrain of the Land of Fire toward the Hidden Leaf Village, where she will finally meet her betrothed and marry within the week.

Details about her future husband, Senju Tobirama, remain a mystery, except for the correspondence shared between Chitose and her older brother. She’s been told that he’s a pragmatic man and formidable shinobi of remarkable battle prowess, but nothing else. 

As they pass the main gates into the village, their entourage stops at a halt before Hashirama’s home within the Senju encampment. Tatsuo greets his host and family with a respectful bow, then announces his younger sister’s arrival. 

Chitose extends a hand for her brother to take as she steps outside of the palanquin. The path sparkles and crunches beneath her geta, like sugar underfoot, the winter cold turning her pale complexion rosy. She is a vision of beauty and elegance while wearing a deep indigo furisode kimono of handpainted silks mimicking the night sky with speckles of silver stars and waves of blue water with lily pads and white lotuses along the train. Her hair is a deep shock of burgundy, similar to that of the Uzumaki Clan, long and pinned back with fresh flowers and silver and gold kanzashi hairpins. 

As servants fuss over the train of her kimono, Chitose walks a few paces forward into the snow, allowing her brother’s hand to slide out of her grasp. Once she’s at the bottom of the steps before the Senju clansman, her body gracefully lowers itself into a small bow, awaiting her betroth’s greeting and approval. / @hatredcurse

[shinobinvku]

“Good evening. Mind if I join you?” Chitose murmurs, painted lips widening into a slight smile. 

Knowing her old, solitary friend, she had an inkling Madara would be here at his favored spot, alone with his thoughts, and decided to come be lonely together, bringing a second bottle of warmed sake just in case. 

In the other hand, Chitose held a gift for the Uchiha wrapped loosely in cloth: a handsome-looking gauntlet made of thick hide leather. 

“I had it custom-made for you. For your beloved falcons,”

it's snowing in Konoha again this year. the weather seemed to linger warm until winter had finally shaken off the dirt and dust and left them blanketed until the spring blossoms were ready to come through.

it's that time of the year again, one where he sits and thinks and shares a drink with no one in particular - though there's a spot beside him if one would want to join him.

[livwritesstuff]

Steve is home one day with his daughters when he realizes that his oldest, Moe, is ten.

Okay, obviously, he knew she was ten. She’s been ten for a while, as her birthday is in July and it’s now December, and the girls are discussing Christmas as they perceive it in their little girl worlds.

It’s really that Steve realizes that Moe is the same age Erica had been when he’d asked her to climb through air ducts and infiltrate a Russian military base.

It’s a realization that has Steve feeling a little nauseous, because Moe is ten and she’s plotting with her little sisters about how they’re going to stay awake on Christmas Eve to catch a glimpse of Santa (their conspiring has Steve worried for his and Ed’s own role in Christmas Eve and the way it hinges on the girls falling asleep as early as fucking possible), and she’d lost another baby tooth this morning and hasn’t stopped talking about what the tooth fairy might leave for her overnight, and she still sneaks into his and Eddie’s room after nightmares looking for snuggles, and she’s afraid of car washes and bugs, and she still wants to be read to before bed every night.

He’d been struck suddenly by how little Moe still is. Maybe he’s only thinking that because she’s his daughter – his first daughter, at that – but he still looks at that kid’s face and sees the newborn baby who’d made him a dad ten years ago.

He can’t imagine looking at her and seeing someone equipped to take on Erica had been asked to do, never mind actually asking her to do it, which is precisely what Steve had done twenty-five years ago.

It eats at him for the rest of the day.

“Just call her, Steve,” Eddie urges him after Steve brings it up for the sixth time that evening, “You clearly need to air this shit out.”

So Steve calls Erica.

Erica is in her mid-thirties now. She’s a kick-ass lawyer at a private firm in Indiana, and she picks up the phone on the second ring.

“This is Erica,” she says.

“Hey, it’s Steve.”

“What’s up,” she replies, still never one for beating around the bush.

“I just – I need to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For Scoops,” Steve says, “For Starcourt.”

Erica is silent for a while.

None of them really talk about any of that stuff anymore. They’d hashed everything out ages ago, until all that was left behind was the understanding that none of them would ever be able to truly move past it, that there would always be guilt and fear and pain they could never shake.

“Okay?” she finally says, question in her tone.

“I just…” Steve hesitates, “Look – I didn’t get it. I didn’t fully get how fucked up it was. I was the grown up in the situation and I should have put a stop to it but I was stupid and reckless, and now that Moe is ten, I can’t stop thinking about how insane it was for us to even consider roping you into that.”

“I agreed to it.”

“You were a kid.”

“You were a kid,” Erica insists.

“Eighteen isn’t a kid anymore.”

“Say that to me again when Moe’s eighteen and maybe I’ll believe you.”

Steve doesn't have anything to say to that, because Erica is probably right (though only time will tell, he supposes). Their phone call ends only a few minutes later with Erica telling him to go easy on himself and Steve saying he’d try before apologizing one more time.

“You gonna take her advice?” Eddie asks after he’s pulled a begrudging Steve into his arms.

“No,” he tells him, curling into his husband’s side and sticking his nose in Eddie’s neck so he doesn’t have to look him in the eye.

“Figures.”

[lovechristianity]

On the early morning of Tuesday, March 12, 2024, Fr. Takla the Samuelite, along with Fr. Yostos Abba Markos and Fr. Mina Abba Markos, were martyred after masked terrorists attacked the Monastery of St. Mark the Apostle and St. Samuel the Confessor in Johannesburg, South Africa.

The three blessed fathers were reportedly dragged, viciously slaughtered and stabbed.

All three victims were found with stab wounds while a fourth who survived alleged that he was hit by an iron rod before fleeing and hiding. The murders remain unknown at this stage, as the suspects reportedly left the scene without taking any valuable items.

Information has been revealed.

The Monastery bell was rung between 2:30 am and 3:00 am for prayers. Father Takla was the first to head to the Church he was stabbed in the heart on his path to the Church. Father Mina heard something and ran to see what happened, he was beheaded on his path to see father Takla. Then the murderers went to Father Youstos and beheaded him on his rooms door step.

Fr. Hegumen Takla El-Samuely, Fr. Yostos Ava Markos, Fr. Mina Ava Markos, O holy martyrs, pray for us. May your sacrifice strengthen our faith and our Church.

"If the world hates you, you know that it hated Me before it hated you." - John 15:18

[ianthewife]

every time shit really hits the fan i just repeat like a mantra Sister Carpenter had it worse… Harrowhark Nonagesimus had it worse… Sister Carpenter had it worse… Harrowhark Nonagesimus had it worse… Sister Carpenter had it worse… Harrowhark Nonagesimus had it worse…

[cainposts]

The martyr of Solway is so Faulkner

[dreadofred]

Traitors

Jason had followed the ‘Martyr’ for hours, waiting for that tragic moment when he had to sacrifice himself. The plan was simple: grab his body before Vought had the chance to and bring him back to Butcher for a little chat. As he waited far enough away with a suit to help keep his scent and heartbeat out of range from the sups, Jason watched the whole scene go down. It was not self-sacrifice and was not willing. Hughie was forced to do it, causing that jawline to tick at the way other sups shoved him into the way of the bullets only to push his body off the bridge, uncaring about his shell as it splashed into he cold waters below. They laughed, joked about dinner, went about their mission and talked about swinging around to pick him up in a bit. 

Cruel and not an ounce of humanity left in them when their powers made them think they were gods. Jason could not wait to take them down a few notches in the coming days, hopefully with a bloody shit-eating grin and middle finger held high. 

A timer was clicked on his watch. Boots and pants were taken off, left on the shore as he wadded into the freezing water just in time to grab that stiff wrist, dragging the robed body of the ‘saint’ toward the shore and up onto the grass. Quickly, Jason got redressed, removed the outer robes so the boy did not weigh so much as he carried him bridal style away from the river a few feet away to his van where he loaded the man carefully into the back and jumped in after him to shut the doors.  

Gear was removed and placed on the front passenger seat so he could move better to remove the wet clothing from the other man, redressing him in sweat pants and a hoodie as it was easiest to get over that wet, stiff body so when he came to, it was not to clothing that would make him freeze to death again. The robes were put into a bag, his others by the river collected before Jason retraced his steps to ensure there was no trail left behind before getting into the Van driver seat, starting it, cracking the heat up and heading away from the location. 

A small motel not far where he could park, check in under a fake name, and after waiting for the coast to be clear, carry the man inside to lie on the bed. The blankets were pulled over him before Jason took a seat on one of the chairs by the window and watched. There he waited for Hughie to come back to life, unsure how long it would be but timing it for his own curiosity. 

The muzzled mask stayed on his face, hiding those eyes and jaw from view.

@awkwardcourage

[awkwardcourage]

semi-plotted starter | @qapsiel

Hughie had tried to be religious once. It hadn’t worked out. He wasn’t entirely sold on Christianity, nor could he find it in himself to completely discount it. He was firmly a wishy-washy agnostic, not that that had been a problem growing up. He was pretty sure his dad had only put him through Sunday school just so he could get a few hours free of childcare.

It was hypocritical to pray only because he wanted something. He was far from devout; but he was scared. He was only eighteen and was being murdered. Again. It didn’t matter that he would come back to life. Dying was terrifying and he didn’t want to go through it, he couldn’t go through it, not again. So he squeezed his shut, clenched his fists tight and prayed.

Please don’t let me die, please, it hurts, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, please, please, please-

Then, it stopped. Hughie dared to lift his head, opened his eyes to see where his assailants had gone and screamed. It wasn’t human. It was nothing Hughie had ever seen before. A indiscernible mass of eyes and wings and light towered above him. He scrambled backwards, unable to tear his gaze away, a shriek of terror still exploding from his throat.

He had prayed to be saved and what he’d got in return was a harbinger of cosmic doom.

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

anyone else find the lyric

If you let me I will catch fire To let your glory and mercy shine

extremely sobering considering the direction Paramore has gone in?

[britneyshakespeare]

His virtue was the brainstorm of a dreamer!

He died a fool. And may his fall pull down

his friend and all his century! We shall see

how they get on without me. For one evening,

the world belongs to me still. [...]

King Philip II of Spain, Don Carlos by Friedrich Schiller, Act V scene ii. Translation by Robert David MacDonald.

[myremnantarmy]

Stephen, filled with grace and power,

was working great wonders and signs among the people.

[troutlawyer]

Christians should just stop walking up to random people and trying to evangelize and just die out already because it’s obvious you all only care about bringing in new members because you can’t manage to keep people in your fucking churches LMAO

[willowswriting]

for @dcynnight continued from here

Josephine didn't think that Teddy was clueless at all. In fact she was aware that he was quite intelligent. She never went into something without first having done her research, she was a professional after all. However he was really the only chance that she had at receiving any type of insider information. She was fully aware that they were feeding her bullshit... that was usually always the first step when the person that she sat down with knew the line of work that she was in. "Are the two of you close?" she questioned, steering it away from a business intensive conversation into one a little more casual, hoping to maybe lower his guard just a smidge.

[neptuniadoesstuff]

Art request:

More Martyr-

You want Matyr here is Martyr! (But in a dress bcs his son may have forced him to do so as a sick joke)

Also sorry for my EXTREAMLY HORRIBLE HANDWRITING SKILLS! (I seriously can't write words correctly so here's a translation to my very rushed handwriting:

"Why do I have to wear this son?" - A very embarrassed Marty.

Deff not smtn u expected but then again I'm not really much in the mind space to make high effort stuff atm so just take this for the road. (Bcs Skool is kinda busy this week & also I spent all 9f my motivation on a frikin dragon with LONG AHH LEGS)

[symphoniecalando]

They aren't your family, anymore. They left you after you abandoned them, disowned you as you left them. They aren't your brothers anymore.

I have another family.

[direwombat]

fingers in the father's soil verse has deployed some brainworms today and now billie and solomon are rotating on one of those gas station hot dog rollers under a dim bulb in my brain