#we entrap ourselves and each other in this family

[polin-erospsyche]

The fact that these two

Are these two:

Are also these two:

And all in the span of one year and a half

Sometimes they just make me laugh maniacally

[onlinealiasnu]

music in narnia - pt. 2

that’s probably what kickstarted my love for music. it’s the songs of my childhood that nurtured my appreciation for sounds and music. honestly, growing up, i started falling out of my love for music at first. i remember using my family’s only computer at the time to open youtube and watch lyric videos of the songs i loved as though i was watching an entrapping television show. in actuality, i was watching the lyric video for “you belong with me.”

in sophomore year of high school, once quarantine started and the age of loneliness started, i felt myself more and more attracted to the appeal of music. i started scoping out spotify for a favorite genre or favorite artist for me that i knew was out there but didn’t know about before. i wanted to have a niche music taste that i curated for myself, something so special to me that no one else could relate to. and due to the nature of quarantining and not being able to step outside, i had all the time in the world to do so. so it began: the journey of my acquired music taste and the many playlists i would create and destroy in my attempt to seek this.

i know it all sounds so superficial: my wanting of a niche interest that make me stand-out from the rest of the dingy teenagers that could not compare to my music taste. i wanted to have an “elite” taste that i could feel proud about and that i could define my personality around. i will admit, this thought was incredibly superficial at first, but it was due to this desire for an acquired taste that i began to truly appreciate music for what it did for me.

me and my group of friends spent hours customizing our spotifys to look exactly the way we wanted them to. we would spend hours looping certain songs on repeat, to demonstrate to the world our love for those songs and to tell each other how much we projected onto those songs. throughout this time period, there were certain moments that have truly defined the person i am today and stick out as special memories to this day.

i remember spending my nights up till four or five a.m. on voice calls with my friends. we would discuss monotonous things, and aspects of our lives that we would delve into a psychoanalyze. we would talk about our love for critiques, video essays, and deeper thinking while geeking out over pieces of media we really loved. we played games up until the sun rose, keeping our screams silent as to not wake up our families. we giggled, laughed, and snorted together and even though none of this was in-person, we felt truly connected through the music that would play in the background of it all.

we took turns queuing up songs, humming and singing along to them while doing all the things previously aforementioned. i remember sharing tens of tens of playlists that i made, each for a specific purpose and fleeting feeling that i felt was important enough to create a playlist around. we would go and share songs, ones we loved and others we had “unpopular opinions” about. we bonded over songs by the 1975 and 88rising, sharing videos of our favorite artists on live.

i remember spending nights doing homework and studying for exams, which i would procrastinate until after midnight. after settling down by grabbing a bowl of cereal to munch on as i grinded out assignments and projects, i put on my headphones and turned the volume up, putting on my favorite playlists. while finding the values of x and writing cornell notes for ap world, songs would continuously play for hours on end so i wouldn’t lose my sanity. my most precious moments of quarantine came out of this. there was this tradition that developed between my friend and i where we would not start our week-long and weekly assignments for ap world until the day before. we would call each other while silently working on each of our assignments, music playing in the background. even as the streets became quiet and the sun started rising, we continued working, not letting ourselves succumb to the heaviness of our drooping eyelids and the slowness of our brains. once the clock hit 7 a.m., we would reach the last stretch of our assignment and once we hit the last enter on the document, we rejoiced, saying our goodbyes and shutting off our laptops to crawl into bed for the much-needed half-hour of sleep we would get before class started again.

i remember days spent doing nothing, even with the piles upon piles of responsibilities i was expected to fulfill. i would feel so overwhelmed that i wanted to forget it all and just cease existing—not in the way that i was majorly depressed or anything because whatever i had going on was nothing compared to everyone else’s, but in the way that i just wanted an out so my responsibilities meant nothing to me. but i knew that wasn’t possible. just like time will keep going on, the world never stops turning and i realized that in utter defeat. so on those days, when i wanted an escape, i found myself starting up at the ceiling. no words said, no notifications to bother me. i kept the lights turned off, laying down on the childhood bed next to all my plushies i��d accumulated over the years. i would lay there, next to the wrinkles on my bedsheets, my baby blue bear blanket thrusted in a corner on the foot of my bed. my floor would be a mess, clothing sprawled everywhere and fallen books scattered about. i would cut myself from contact for those couple hours staring at the holes in my ceiling, with the only voice cutting through that silence being the singing of melodies quietly echoing from the speakers of my phone to the rest of my room. eventually, my eyes would slowly close and the muscles of my face would relax, as i drifted away to nothingness. and when i would wake up, i would be greeted by the quiet hum from my phone once again.

i remember yearning and dreaming of better times, listening to the cheesiest songs to ever exist and quiet upbeat ones that lightened my mood. i spent hours talking with my friends, to songs like “fall in love with you in every 4 am” by friday night plans, talking moreso with friends i became extremely close with. i found people that i trusted and people that i knew i wanted to keep in my life, thanks to the dreamy melodies that would accompany my interactions with them. i learned to romanticize what i could, to keep my head afloat and myself motivated. i was lucky to have developed this mentality because my experience in such utter loneliness was not as lonely as other people’s.

so that time, spent with friends—though not in-person—and music, had nurtured me to become the person i am today: someone that truly cares about people.

[buffcoyote]

Jeffrey Dahmer and Gacy’s crimes were so horrific and brutal, my own mind struggles to understand the workings of a human mind that would be able to do the unthinkable things they were able to do.

The meticulous calculating and routine preparation required for each hideous act, the absence of emotional affect, the sheer sadism. I think the sadism is the most important factor. Their minds appear so broken to me, so… lost. But they were quick, competent and intelligent liars. It just makes you think… what the hell *are* you? I know humans come in different shapes and sizes; we all have our mental differences in terms of capacity and ability. I also understand that typical humans can be just as cruel, but the repeated homicidal attacks on others and this obsession with control… I don’t understand. I cannot comprehend. I am admitting that I would never be able to sympathize or empathize.

I don’t hate them as it is useless to do, I don’t know them and they are both dead. But the immense amount of pain and suffering they have caused to so many different families is irreversible and irreparable. I cannot even stomach to look at the photos of Dahmer’s crimes, or Gacy’s. I peaked once and I couldn’t sleep last night, for an irrational fear that I would be snatched just like the poor victims in my sleep. And to know that most of Dahmer’s victims were Black gay men like me… It was the ‘70s. They probably were just like me, wanting to be loved and shown affection even more so. They had dreams and goals. Gone. Mercilessly slaughtered and their corpses defiled and robbed of any human dignity left.

Then to find out Dahmer earned up to $12,000 while in prison from fans…received fan-mail from individuals that could empathize with him, bemoaning how they felt entrapped by our world the same as him, longing to feel “free”. Gacy too received similar messages and gifts and people bought his art.

The families of these victims are still here and their pain is still there. My heart goes out to all of them, and I selfishly hope I will never be able to understand them.

Was there ever a “normal”, or is all of this a convenient lie we tell ourselves to prevent it all from going to shit?

[gatheringbones]

["The Patriarchal State of Normalcy and the Southern Freak

I have tried these past weeks, in the process of this writing, to explain how I conspired in this entrapment, why the grotesque holds such appeal for me. I think it is because freaks in Southern Gothic literature reflect a process basic to the small-town Southern life I knew. This community was confined by the narrow boundaries of what it felt was permittable or speakable. The sharply drawn perimeters of normalcy created its opposite, the grotesque. If some people must be normal, then some must be different from normal, or freaks. In reality, everyone is a freak because no human can cram her/himself into the narrow space that is the state of normalcy. But all have to pretend that they fit, and those closet freaks choose the most vulnerable among them to punish for their own secret alienation, to bear the burden of strangeness. O'Connor has deep insight into this discrepancy between the narrowness of people's models for experience— encapsulated in Mrs. Hopewell's clichés about "ladies" and "good country people"— and the chaos and mystery of existence that continues to erupt through the clichés.

The town freak (or eccentric, the eccentric being in one's own family, the freak in someone else's) is often sacrosanct, protected because her/his insanity is recognized as necessary to preserve collective sanity (as in "Ballad of the Sad Café," where the town withers into a wasteland when Amelia's vitalizing differentness is destroyed). I have heard from friends studying family therapy that this scapegoating process occurs in families as well as communities, when one member is often chosen to bear the burden of sickness, allowing other members to be well. And if this scapegoating process cuts the freak off from the community, it builds into the community a death wish. People are cut off from each other and from the strange in themselves. As Adrienne Rich explains, "The unspoken.... becomes the unspeakable." Wholeness of self or community becomes impossible. Deformity, partiality, grotesqueness perpetuate themselves.

These community demands for normalcy are particularly strong around matters of female sexuality— hence the prevalence of the female grotesque in these fictions and hence my own early sense of "lesbian separation" (to coin a phrase).

Which brings me to the major question: Why do people do this to each other and to themselves? Why these narrow boundaries in the first place? I wish I knew the whole answer. I know that it is NOT merely a Southern problem, although we white Southerners— as American Family Freaks, racist and immoral— have acted out our pathology at times with great zest.

To begin to answer: I know that this destructive process in the South is intimately related to racism. It is the legacy of slavery to a people who could not afford to do the right thing so that they could not afford to listen to their consciences and consequently cut themselves off from the better parts of themselves. Before I can enslave someone, I must first see him/her as less than human, unlike me. Other. Lillian Smith, activist and author, offers profound insight into white racist psychology, with imagery like mine of walls and boundaries:

Our emotions are blunted where Negroes are concerned. It is though we had segregated an area in our minds, marked it 'colored' and refused our feelings entrance to it... But when we reserve this humanity of ours, this precious quality of love, of tenderness, and of imaginative identification, for only people of our own skin color (or of our family, our own class, or friends) we have split our lives in a way shockingly akin to those sick people whom we call schizophrenics. And we develop— as we whites have developed toward Negroes— a personality picture strongly like theirs of blunted emotions, delusions of persecution, feelings of 'aloneness', extreme irritability when efforts are made to change our white ways... We develop a desire to shut ourselves off not only from the Negro by segregation, but also from all science, all influences that are disturbing to the picture we have made of ourselves and of our 'persecutors.'

This walling off of parts of the self— the segregated heart— creates the grotesque."]

Mab Segrest, My Mama's Dead Squirrel: Lesbian Essays on Southern Life, Firebrand Books, 1985

[angel-anoetic]

*pops out of the void with a sharp thwack* Hey. Your writing is awesome and I'm trying desperately to ignore cannon right now. Could you do something with Foolish and Reader is the leader of this tribe who needed a place to live and is also very practical and when he's douting the point of his builds they're like "Of course they have a point we live here. ... And they bring you joy." And it's all very fluffy with Reader kicking Foolish's insecurities in the face? Thanks *drops into the void*

*waves* ayup! i love this and i will do my best to deliver! this request has so much energy, i love it. i think there will be implied feelings, but in general you can see this as plat or rom. thanks for the request!! *hunches over the computer for next three hours*

Don't forget to like to save and reblog to share!!

c!Foolish x gn!Reader - Savior

genre: /plat or /rom

warnings: none! (let me know if i missed something)

masterlist <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had guided your people for nearly three weeks. The desert stretched farther than some of them ever could have imagined. With each passing day, it became harder to feed them, provide them water, and offer reassurance that new land would be waiting for them come the next few days.

It was about 3 o'clock in the afternoon of the twenty-second day when you and your guards stumbled upon a man while looking for food or water. Well, man wouldn't be the right word to describe the one who stood before you. His eyes gleamed like that of emeralds, and he stood much taller and larger than anyone could really tell. His skin carried streaks of gold, and he had gills placed strategically around him. He carried a trident, which he proudly held up against you and your guardsmen.

"Who are you, and why are you so far out here?" He barked, the trident in his hands facing you headfirst.

Your guardsmen placed their weapons at stand-by towards him, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

You signaled them to stand down, then faced the person standing in front of you.

"I am Y/N, leader of the Trainquales. We do not mean to disturb you nor your land, we are simply searching for a new home, a place we can settle for a time. Who are you, stranger?"

He lowered his weapon, still gripping it tightly. "I am Foolish, Totem of Undying and...other titles. Excuse my aggression, I was caught off guard. It's not often I see people out here."

You chuckled and opened your arms. "Still, my apology stands. It has been so long since we've seen another face, especially like one of yourself. I ask you to follow us, so you may see my people, and join us tonight as we rest."

At this, he began to relax, the grip around his weapon loosening. He looked behind him, then past you. He nodded, the only confirmation you needed.

You began to walk back towards your people, guards the following suit, as Foolish stayed behind the crowd.

"You know, it would be nice to get to know you better. I am one or words rather than action, and I feel we have started on the wrong foot."

For a minute there was silence, then a heavy presence stood next to you.

"Thank you. Now, tell me, how long have you lived out here, alone?"

"Since as far back as I remember. To be fair, I have been around a long time. I'd say beyond 200 years, for sure. How long have you lead your people?"

"I could say the same as you. Except I barely took my position about 11 years ago, not long for someone like my people, but long enough to establish ourselves."

As you crossed the final hill, your people came into view. The burgundy tents glowed as the lanterns adorned them. Your people were like a rumble among the silence of the desert. Some stood around chatting, the mothers sat with the elders and listened to long told stories as children ran around chasing one another. Others were sat around a large campfire, enjoying a small meal, whatever could be spared. Laughing, whispers, giggles fill the cool night air.

You looked over to Foolish who was absolutely entrapped at the scene before him, his eyes glowing.

The night followed, with Foolish enjoying the nightlife of your people. He listened diligently to the stories and laughed along with the elders, even going as far as to play a game of tag with the children. The older kids followed him around, hoping for the chance to hold the trident.

As it came to an end with everyone heading to bed, you stood tall observing your people rest.

Foolish stood next to you, scanning the area.

"You mentioned earlier that you and your people were looking for a place to stay."

"Yes..."

"I think I can help."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day Foolish led you and your people to what he had told you was his summer home. He told you that he could help you and your people, offering shelter and the resources to help them establish themselves. What you hadn't expected was for there to be enough buildings for every family to have their own home.

There were some pre-established fields and in another section, the area was already cleared for new fields to be placed.

As everyone swarmed to pick a home for themselves you watched in amazement. This was exactly what you had been searching for, exactly what you had promised for them.

Foolish appeared by your side and you looked over to him. You placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Thank you so much. You really have no idea what this really means for us."

He smiled but the look he held within his eyes told you his feelings were indifferent.

"What's wrong?"

"I...I just fear that something like this is not enough. When I met you, I told you I was known by many names. One of those names...I'd rather forget. Since then, I've tried to forget and make up for what I can never take back. And these builds," He paused and looked to you, "for you and your people, I fear it's not enough."

You let out a small laugh. He looked at you, confused.

You couldn't help but let out a larger laugh.

"I am so-so sorry." You began to catch your breath and looked to Foolish who was smiling himself, still confused.

"Oh please, Foolish! You cannot be serious right now! Look at these buildings. There are so many, and they're so perfectly built that my people may finally have spaces of their own for once. You provided us fields, something we've not been able to keep since...decades ago."

A blush set over his features as he looked towards the buildings once more. They gleamed against the mid-day sun and your people rushed everywhere, settling in, tending to their new crops.

"Look, you have already done more in a night and day than I ever could have in a year. And I know you enjoy having them here. They love you, you bring joy to their hearts."

You have him a hug, which he gave back and smiled.

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i hope this did your request justice!

[cozy-the-overlord]

Dances and Daggers

Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 7: The Gatekeeper

Previous Chapter |  Next Chapter

Word Count: 2,044

Chapter Summary:  A trip across the Rainbow Bridge seems in order.

Thanks for reading! :)

TW: mentions of child abuse

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae

if you want to be tagged, just send me an ask! :)

Read it on Ao3!

“It doesn’t mention anything about him leaving at all?”

Teki shook her head. “No, nothing.”

She and the prince were huddled in one of the back tables of the library, flipping through the pages of her father’s journal in search of some kind of clue. Teki had wondered if Loki would even be interested in continuing to help her—her life was such a mess, she didn’t see why anyone would want to willingly jump in—but he seemed just as eager to find her father as she was.

Although, neither of them had any idea as to where to start.

Loki had suggested beginning with the journal, since that was their main lead. “If he wrote in it every day, then he probably mentioned something about leaving, right?” he asked. “That couldn’t have been a decision he took lightly.”

Teki thought so as well, but the more she looked, the more it appeared that her father had done nothing of the sort. When he wasn’t writing ballads, it seemed the only thing he wrote about was her.

Teki and I went into town today to watch the parade. She was ecstatic—especially fascinated by the violinists. She’s been dancing around the room, pretending to play violin all night long. She says that she wants to learn, and I have half a mind to start teaching her. After all, she’s picked up the piano like it was nothing. Such a musical heart—I’m so proud of her.

Seeing her name—her nickname, that is—written in her father’s handwriting took her back to the letter he had left behind, the one that dissolved his marriage and rejected her as his daughter.

My dear Tekla…

That letter had been in the box too, along with several other letters he had exchanged with her mother before they were married. Rereading it for the first time since he had left, Teki was once again struck with the belief that there was something dubious about her father’s message. The whole thing was so stilted, so emotionless. It felt… it felt scripted. As if his hand was only transcribing another’s words.

And he called her Tekla.

Next to her, Loki sat straight up. “Why, we don’t have to look through all this!” he cried. “I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of this before!”

She frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Heimdall!” Loki stood, grinning. “He sees everyone in the universe. We can just ask him where your father is.”

Teki’s heart stuttered. The Gatekeeper stood at the edge of the Bifrost, eyes that protected Asgard from the threats that lurked beyond. Asking him to check for her father seemed… disrespectful. “Are we—are we allowed to do that?”

The prince laughed. “Why wouldn’t we be?” He pulled her to her feet. “Come on, let’s go!”

“I—now?”

“Why not?” He hesitated. “Unless—if you’d prefer, I could just—”

“No.” Teki inhaled. Loki was right. This could be the best way to find her father. It was time she got over her fear of … everything. She took his hand. “Let’s go.”

…

They rode out to the Rainbow Bridge together on Loki’s horse. It was… a bit odd, to be sharing the reins with someone, but Teki didn’t have her own horse and wasn’t keen to wait for the stable hands to pick one out for her. It wouldn’t have even mattered anyways, because they didn’t have any sidesaddles on hand, and Teki knew that in the time it would have taken her to change into slacks, she would have talked herself out of going at all. Instead, she found herself perched awkwardly in the front of Loki’s nightmare black mare, Brynja.

“You—you can still see, right?” she asked as Loki shifted in the saddle behind her.

He hummed in affirmation. “Um—I think—” his hand fluttered stiffly at her waste. “Would it be alright if I—if I held on to you?” Teki twisted around to see his cheeks were bright pink. It reminded her of the night of his Nameday Feast, when she had to ask him to lace her dress up, and her face flushed as well.

Loki coughed. “Just so you don’t fall off,” he added quickly. “Apologies, it’s just that I’ve never ridden like this, and—”

“No, it’s fine,” she interrupted quietly. “You can… hold on to me.” For a moment, Loki didn’t move. Then, very slowly, he brought his arm to rest across her stomach, holding her to his torso. Teki forgot how to breathe.

“Ready?” he whispered, the little puff of breath ticking her hair. She giggled, nodding. With a click of his tongue, Loki spurred the horse forward. Teki was soon grateful for his arm at her waist, because she was certain that without it, she would’ve gone flying when they shot forward like a cannonball.

“Oh!”

She had never ridden across the Bifrost before. Teki could only cling to Brynja’s mane and try not to scream as colors whizzed across her vision, speeding high above the rolling waves of the Asgardian ocean. Loki shouted something, but she couldn’t hear him above the wind roaring in her ears.

By the time they had reached Himinbjorg, she was panting as if she had been the one racing for miles. Loki laughed.

“Have you never galloped before?”

She bristled. “I’ve galloped.” But riding horseback had never been one of Teki’s favorite hobbies, and she felt Loki could tell.

Smiling, he jumped to the ground, helping her slide down as well and offering her his arm. “Let’s go.”

She took it haltingly. “We—we just go in?” she asked. “Don’t we have to… announce ourselves?”

Loki laughed again. “He sees everything! He already knows we’re here.”

“Wait.” Teki froze. “Everything? He sees everything? Even—” Even Osvald?

For a moment, the prince seemed confused, but realization flashed across his face.

“Yes, but Heimdall doesn’t interfere with what he sees, not unless there’s significant threat to Asgard,” he reassured her. Something dark passed across his face. “Not even when he should.”

Teki swallowed. Loki had so far honored his promise to keep what he knew of her family’s dynamic to himself, but he made no secret of the fact that he thought she should tell some higher authority. He was convinced that Osvald could be stopped by someone like his mother. Teki wished she shared his optimism.

Walking into Himinbjorg was like stepping into a whole other world. The spherical walls glowed with an archaic power that seemed to vibrate through her every fiber. The very air seemed to have a different taste, as if flavored by the intricacies of the cosmos. She needed no knowledge of the Bifrost to understand this was sacred ground.

In the middle of the room, a figure stood on the raised platform still as a statue, a golden silhouette cutting through the multicolored stains of the galactic skyline. The curved horns of his helmet glistened in the starlight, completely motionless as Teki and Loki entered.

The prince inhaled. “Good Heimdall,” he said. His voice had taken on a very grandiose tone, and Teki had to suppress the urge to laugh. “We wish to ask a favor—”

Heimdall turned, and the urge died almost instantly. The watcher of the worlds was an imposing form. His helmet cast his face in shadow as he stepped forward, his intricate golden armor echoing the design of the hilt of the giant sword he clutched in his hands. But it was his eyes that sent shivers down her spine. His deep orange irises bored deep into soul, as if he was seeing things about her that she didn’t even know herself. She quickly dropped her eyes to the ground.

When he spoke, it was in a deep baritone that boasted of ancient wisdom. “I know why you’re here.” Even when she wasn’t looking, she felt the weight of his stare. “Lady Tekla. I cannot give you that for which you search.”

“We only wish to know the whereabouts of her father.” Loki interjected. “Steinn—” he looked to Teki questioningly.

“Kjellson,” she whispered. “Steinn Kjellson.” She pulled her gaze from the metal floor, forcing herself to meet his piercing eyes. “Do—do you know where he is?”

He was still looking at her, studying her intently as if she were a piece in an art display. Teki realized suddenly that he had not looked at Loki once since they arrived at Himinbjorg. She squirmed.

“I know of whom you speak,” he said finally. “But it is not my place to speak on the matter.”

“What do you mean?” Loki demanded, frowning. “Is your place not to serve Asgard, and her royal family?” He motioned towards Teki. “She is to be your Queen.”

Heimdall’s gaze didn’t waver. “You’re not asking the right question,” he said directly to her.

“I—what?” What right question? Flickers of irritation began to burn at her nerves. “Can’t you see him?” she asked.

Heimdall only stared.

She scowled. “I haven’t seen my father in years!” she snapped. “Can you at least tell me if he’s safe?”

“You’re not asking the right question,” he repeated.

With a huff, she turned to Loki. “This is a waste of time. He’s not helping us.” The prince nodded, glaring at Heimdall.

“It’s time we left,” he agreed. He held her hand as they stormed out of the building together.

Even as Loki helped her back on to Brynja’s back, Teki felt the gatekeeper’s gaze entrapping her in its scope. She turned around to find that Heimdall had not budged an inch from where they left him, orange eyes piercing hers. She balked.

You’re not asking the right question.

But what other question was there to ask? All she wanted to know was where her father had went. What other way could she ask that? Teki glowered as Loki pulled himself into the saddle.

“I’m sorry Teki,” he was saying. “I really thought he could help.”

“You were right,” she mumbled bitterly. “He could help. He just didn’t.”

Loki sighed, urging Brynja forward, but not too fast yet. “We’ll have to try something else,” he mused. “You said your father used to work as a court musician?”

“Yes. He quit when he married my mother.” Teki pulled at her sash. When she was little, she had always imagined what it would be like to be the daughter of a court musician, what it would be like to not have to worry about curtseys or tea time, to spend her days helping her father prepare for his performances. She had always felt he wished he hadn’t had to leave the musical troop, picked up on the longing even though he did his best to mask it.

“It’s a good thing I’m not in the troop anymore,” he had joked wistfully with her once, after she had finished playing one of his piano pieces without sheet music for the first time. “You’d have me right out of a job!”

Back in the present, Loki seemed to be engrossed in some idea. “Do you know any of his fellow players?” he asked.

Teki frowned. “No. By the time I was born he wasn’t involved with them anymore.” She turned around to face the prince. “Why?”

His face was scrunched up in thought. “Well, maybe they know something,” he said. “If they were close enough, they may have some idea as to where he went. We can check the court records, figure out who was with him when he was working.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You know, there might be something there.” The bitterness in her throat from their visit with Heimdall begin to melt away. She smiled shyly at the prince. “Thank you.”

Loki let out an embarrassed chuckle. “For what?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Everything. Helping me.” Her cheeks were burning. Why was she always such a failure when it came to speaking?

But Loki didn’t seem to mind. “Of course.” He leaned forward to wrap his arm around her waist once more. “Are you ready to go?”

She nodded, unable to hold in her squeal as they shot out once more across the Rainbow Bridge.

[feminist-propaganda]

The Star Wars Saga Is A Meditation On Single Motherhood

It recently dawned on me that the entire story line of the Star Wars saga is built on the lives, loves and tribulations of 3 generations of single mothers. There are monsters to slay and aliens to find and planets to explore, yes, but if you think about the powerful message in the movies, you’ll come to realize it was mostly a reflection on the status of single mothers, the outcomes of their offspring, and the conflict that lives forever in their descendants.

Each trilogy, once reframed, becomes the story of one woman, who finds herself in a situation that is as old as time. She is with child, but the person who planted the seed in her is not by her side.

Shmi Skywalker or The Good Single Mother

In the Phantom Menace, Jedi Knight Qui Gon Jin meets Anakin Skywalker, a slave boy with a talent for repairing machines. The Jedi knight is impressed with the child’s abilities. He’s knowledgeable, intuitive, and most importantly he’s also kind and thoughtful. When a sand storm threatens the group of travelers, Anakin takes them to his own home and offers them shelter. 

We meet Shmi Skywalker, who in many ways is the archetype of the good single mother. She is not just quiet. She has completely erased herself. She has no personality, apart from being Anakin’s caretaker. She expresses no needs, no desires, no dreams. She simply loves Anakin, and when she sees an opportunity for him to leave the desert planet ruled by the Huts, she doesn’t stand in his way. 

In a now famous scene, Qui Gon asks her about the child’s origins and Shmi famously responds “There was no father”. The line continues: “I carried him. I gave birth. I raised him. I can’t explain what happened”.

The immaculate conception myth refers to the idea in Christianity that Mary, much like Shmi, was impregnated by some magical force, a holy spirit. Both are parabols: images we use to discuss painful topics. Single motherhood has probably always been a part of the human experience. Jared Diamond explains in “Why Is Sex Fun?” that in terms of evolution, it is more rewarding for human males to be “super spreaders “ rather than “good fathers “ . The “good father” gene does not pass down to future generations, because in effect, not sticking around to raise the child is a better strategy for a human man to pass on his genes to the next generation. Not convinced? Just count how many women have been impregnated by a rapper like Future (8 last time I checked). If you’re not into hip-hop, you can think of the offspring of the Mongol Genghis Khan

The purpose of the parabol is to provide an image, to extract ourselves from the technicalities of onr person’s story and to instead talk about all single mothers at once. Indeed, single mothers come in all shapes and sizes. Some are widowed, some are abandoned, others are lied to, and some run away from abusive environments.

Shmi raises her son the best she can, and her love for him is unconditional. She doesn’t bat an eye when he is freed while she is to continue her life as a slave. She doesn’t even seem to mind when Anakin leaves the planet and never returns to free her, even after he marries into some serious money. 

But the story of Star Wars tells us that Shmi’s relationship to Anakin, because it was so fusional, because it was all that he had, led to his undoing. In Episode 2, when he senses she is in danger, he jeopardizes his mission to protect Padme to go rescue her. When he eventually finds her, he is so upset about her ultimate death that he commits mass murder, targeting the Tuskan riders of the sea of Dunes.

When Yoda first lays eyes on Anakin, he senses Anakin’s pain, he is just a child whose been ripped away from the only human that’s ever cared for him deeply. The turmoil inside the boy is palpable, and Yoda advises against training him. 

Padme Amidala or The Bad Single Mother

Anakin develops feelings for Padme, and in Episode 2 the pair decide to secretly get married in the lake district of Padme’s home planet Naboo. Their relationship is very intense. Both share a strong sense of civic duty: Padme was elected queen of the Naboo when she was just 14 &  Anakin is a keeper of the peace. They care deeply about issues such as how the galaxy must be governed, how much action needs to be taken versus when diplomacy must be prioritized. 

Their strong sense of service has made them lonely young people. They’re far away from their families, surrounded by advisors, servants and droids - not friends. 

They jump into their relationship with an eagerness that suggests it is their original caretakers they crave for.

Padme becomes pregnant while the Clone Wars are raging, and immediately Anakin begins to experience trouble with his sleeping. He imagines Padme is dying in childbirth, and the visions haunt him during the day. His fear that she will die ultimately leads to his decision to join the Dark side of the force. Senator Palpatine has manipulated him into believing that Sith Lords have discovered the power to prevent death itself. 

Just like his mother before him, we need to look at Anakin’s story in terms of symbolism. It isn’t really about his specific experience with fatherhood : it’s about the universal conflict that men feel towards their own offspring. Even the way it is announced to him, in the Senate chambers, barely hidden from the rest of the Coruscant elite, implies some sort of entrapment. The columns around them seem to be like a cage that is closing in on his life. He is in the middle of the Wars - he should be celebrating his victory over General Grivious, but instead he is stuck with his wife and he has to absorb her anxiety & reassure her. 

Anakin makes a weird, forced smile and says : “This is a happy moment.” But neither Padme nor the audience believe him. Nothing about him feels happy, he isn’t relaxed: he is tense.

At the end of Episode 3, Anakin attempts to kill Padme when she condemns the mass murders he’s committed against the younglings in the Jedi temple. Hr uses for the first time his “strangling” trick, which becomes his signature move in the original trilogy. 

Palpatine makes Anakin believe that he’s killed Padme, but the truth is somewhat more nuanced. She dies of heartbreak shortly after giving birth to twins. For anyone who thought this was corny, it’s actually been proven by the scientific community that heartbreak reduces your life expectation (it diminishes the size of the telomeres in your body cells, which is the molecule that helps replicate your DNA). 

As Lisa Feldman Barret wrote in How Emotions Are Made: 

Emotional harm can shorten your life. Inside your body, you have little packets of genetic material that sit on the ends of your chromosomes like protective caps. They’re called telomeres. All living things have telomeres—humans, fruit flies, amoebas, even the plants in your garden. Every time one of your cells divides, its telomeres get a little shorter (although they can be repaired by an enzyme called telomerase). So generally their size slowly decreases, and at some point, when they are too short, you die. This is normal aging. But guess what else causes your telomeres to get smaller? Stress does. Children who experience early adversity have shorter telomeres. In other words, emotional harm can do more serious damage, last longer, and cause more future harm than breaking a bone

More severe cases involve patients actually dying of a broken heart, the myocardia just collapses under the weight of the sadness the human feels.

The original trilogy should be re-viewed with all of this new information we have. In the 80s, when Empire Strikes Back came out, the “I am your father” line became instantly iconic. But the plot twist was more like an “Oh My gosh!” moment rather than a profound reflection on fatherhood. The audience sympathized with Luke not because his father had been absent and negligent, but because his father’s job was to serve a fachist leader. It was the actions of Darth Vader as a political servant that were questioned, not his refusal to nurture a smaller being. 

Padme is the opposite of Shmi. She is the archetype of the “bad” single mother. The bad single mother is the single mother who can’t deal with the situation and checks out of it. She collapses under the weight that she feels on her shoulders. She can't get over the heartbreak, she can’t find the will to live. 

Society tends to punish the Padme’s just as much as it praises the Shmis. Television programs like “Teen Mom” are set up to shame the young deviants into adopting the correct behavior. The purpose of the show is to judge these young women into becoming self-sacrificing mothers.

Leia Organa - The Non-single Single Mother

Leia Organa is Anakin Skywalker’s daughter. She is raised by an adoptive frailly on Alderaan after she’s separated at birth from her brother Luke. Much like her mother, she becomes a dedicated public servant, a trusted leader and a beloved public figure. 

She is raised by a wealthy family in the central galactic systems. The Organas teach her the ways of the elite political class. As an adult she serves the cause of the Rebels, and when she meets Han Solo in Episode 4, the mediocre smuggler fascinates her. 

In the now famous scene from Hoth in Episode 5, Leia declares her love for Han Solo right as he’s about to be frozen in carbonite. The ultimate bad boy responds his chilling, because realistic  “I know”.

Han is nothing compared to Leia. He drives a broken down ship, doesn’t have any morals or even a simple code of conduct, much less a cause that he’s dedicated his life to. He has nothing to offer her, and is definitely not in her league. But still, in Episode 6, the pair become an official item.

The last Trilogy was an opportunity to explore Leia’s experience with motherhood. By now we know that Leia’s grandmother was a “Good single mother”, she completely sacrificed herself to protect her son & more importantly she never questioned her status of sole caretaker (remember the “there was no father“ line). We also know that Leia’s mother was a public servant, and a passionate woman who allowed herself to fall deeply in love with a sensitive young man with a non existing support system. Leia’s mother was the “bad” single mother: driven only by her career (Queen of the Naboo, later a Senator of the Old Republic) she did not step up to the task when her destiny revealed itself to her.

Leia seems to share her mother’s taste in reckless young men with a lot of attitude and no emotional security to offer. It’s the excitement she craves, not the tranquility.

Her fate will be the same as her foremothers. She has a child with Han, but when she sends him away to be trained by Luke, she loses them both.

Their dialogue in Episode 7 goes like this: 

Han Solo : Listen to me, will you? I know every time you... Every time you look at me you're reminded of him.

Leia : You think I want to forget him? I want him back.

Han Solo : There's nothing more we could have done. There's too much Vader in him.

Leia : That's why I wanted him to train with Luke. I just never should have sent him away. That's when I lost him. That's when I lost you both.

The last trilogy develops Leia’s character in a way that allows her to be something else than just a single mother. She loses her husband, she even loses her son to the dark side: but she never loses herself. Leia doesn’t allow her condition to define her. She becomes a leader of the Resistance even if it means going after her son’s New order. 

In Episode 9, Leia even destroys her son to protect Rey - the symbolism is that she’s overcome her role as a mother, she’s rejected the notion that she must sacrifice everything for her son even if it goes against her own self interest (like Shmi). She also rejects the idea that her partner abandoning her is the end of her. It isn’t. Unlike her mother, she finds the will to live, and to lead the next generation of freedom fighters and peace keepers.

The saga ends on a hopeful note for all of us single mothers out there. It comes with a message for us : we don’t need to choose between the austere Shmi and the weak Padme. We can instead decide that this “single mom” problem is kind of like beauty : it lies in the eyes of the beholder.

Single moms don’t need to think of themselves as failures, they don’t need to live in modest conditions, they don’t need to beg society's forgiveness for merely existing. They don’t need to be ashamed. 

Single moms don’t need to erase their brains and their lives, and sink into an ocean of denial either. They don't need to be obsessed with their careers or caught up in romantic entanglements that are only going to exhaust them.

Single moms can just decide that they’re women, with beautiful, inspiring personalities and kind, loving hearts. Mothers are first and foremost, the leaders of the young, the protectors of the realm and the makers of the future. It’s not that it doesn’t matter that they’re alone. It’s that they don’t have to be alone at all.

[fallenrepublick]

Can I request a Feral fix-it fic where the reader is a nightsister that is secretly sympathetic and empathetic for the nightbrothers, and after she overhears Asajj's plan to use Feral as the pawn to test Savage's loyalty, she decides to flee and save him? Something like she uses the last of her magick to create a false clone of Feral that is left behind and killed by Savage instead. She knew she wouldn't be strong enough to save Savage, but she could save Feral, and luckily they aren't pursued.

Heck yeah fix-it fics! This one was soooo long, but I did what I could for you. Enjoy!

Warnings: None :)

As someone who was given such a high-stakes position in the clan on Dathomir, you wondered why exactly it was that the likes of Asajj Ventress was allowed to return to the Night Sisters without question, and begin calling for the services of your family to her personal revenge. It was tacky, tasteless to say the least. Aware of her past and unfortunate circumstances as you were, you had a difficult time grasping the concept of her sudden superiority. Serve and protect your family was what you had been taught, yet, as far as you knew, she had done virtually nothing in return for the rest of you. In fact, you were beginning to suspect that her recklessness and unchecked anger would result in all of your deaths.

Mother Talzin, on the other hand, was more than happy to provide the woman with anything she might require to exact her vengeance on the Sith lord Tyrannus. That included a Night Brother servant. To that end, Talzin had instructed Ventress to travel to the Night Brother clan in search of her victim, and to return him to her.

The Night Brothers were separated from the Sisters for reasons that, silently, you still did not understand. The way it was explained to you, they were savages, capable of only combat and breeding, but not much else. However, that answer didn’t sit well with you, and upon further investigation against the will of your sisters, you had ventured out alone one day in search of the truth. What you had found there was enough to confirm your suspicions. Talzin had either lied to you, or was, herself, misguided in her understanding. The Brothers you had come into contact with were… normal. As a Night Sister, of course, they treated you with respect, yet they held an air of certainty about them as they spoke to you that convinced you almost at once of their civilized manner of thinking.

Back in those days, you were younger and more naive, yes, but you had not ceased your contact with the clan, having made a few friends of your own, namely the brothers Savage and Feral. Attached practically at the hip, the two had been inseparable since your first encounter, as seeing one meant with complete certainty that the other was not far off. Feral was meeker, though by no means weak. His mannerisms pointed to him as the voice of reason, a sort of calm before the storm that was his sibling. Savage was the strength of the operation, fiercely protective of his younger brother and skilled in combat to boot. Though, you mainly took to asking them questions about their lives in the clan and interests, wishing to turn your thoughts and theirs away from the pastime that so many of your sisters believed to be their only personality traits.

Those two were who you worried for the most as Ventress set off to recruit one of the members of the brotherhood. Their individuality and strong connection to each other would set them as prime targets for the abandoned apprentice, a fate possibly worse than death in the tests she would submit them to.

You took off after her, taking great care not to be seen, red clothing helping you blend in to the rust-colored planet surface. Much of the planet looked the same to you, and as you had eventually found beauty within a few of the inhabitants, the monotony of the world had begun to look increasingly dull in your eyes, a certain disenchantment occurring within your opinion of your home and own family, especially after Ventress’s return had led the whole clan to kowtow to her every whim.

Your arrival at the village was not filled with the sounds of your name or the gladness that you were usually met with by the brothers who had grown quite accustomed to your presence. You had come silently, carefully, and still, the whole clan was preoccupied by Ventress, her cold steely voice sending shivers down the spines of the weakest links in the chain. From atop a building, you could see the men,lined up in rows for her to walk through and judge like an emperor looking for a suitor. Finally, you found Feral, with Savage in the row behind, keeping a watchful eye.

She would not leave without one. The games began, each level deadlier than the last. Through it all, Savage stood beside Feral, instructing him on where to move so that he would survive. You flinched at every close call that happened, your anticipation for the worst taking hold of your nerves.

What a pathetic concept.

The final level came, the floors raising, a maze entrapping those below, and a deadly pathway for those above. And thus, your worst fears were realized. The last contestants remaining were those you had never wanted playing in the first place. You knew what would happen. They would be separated, one going off with Asajj, and the other remaining here. And by careful consideration, you knew which was which.

You climbed down as the platforms lowered, Savage already being practically dragged away by the witch woman, Feral was meanwhile held back by other members of the clan. It took all you could not to just blow her up where she sat, the speeder going up in violent green flames. But if you were caught here, everyone would be doomed.

You prepared yourself to speak to Feral, to explain to him that you would be there for the two of them, if even for this small period of time. But as you came up behind him, he was being taken away, flanked on each side by one of his clan members, your opportunity was lost, while your concern only grew.

“Wait, where are they taking him?” you asked one of the Night Brothers, a similar color to that of your friends. “It was Savage that was to be taken, not him.”

The male sighed, defeat souring the words from his mouth. “The two were close. Horribly so. The woman saw that as a weakness in Savage, and now, after he’s been given new abilities by The Mother, he will be tested.”

Tested. The word hung in the air like heavy fog as you watched Feral be taken to wait for his execution at the hands of the one he trusted most. Deliberation followed. Save him and leave Savage. Save Savage and leave Feral. Could Savage even be saved at this point? The answer was unclear, circumstances being as they were. Could Feral be saved? Yes. That was all you needed.

You rounded the back, your heart pounding in your chest for fear of what might happen if you were too late. Luckily, they were still within your reach and your approach gave them pause in their tracks.

“I have to speak with him,” you said, waving the two guards away.

They hesitated, looking between each other. “Our orders were to deliver him to Mother Talzin as soon as-”

“I know what your orders were,” you hissed, your threatening tone enough to make them back up. “But now you’re being ordered to walk. away.”

Dropping Feral, they headed off, looking over their shoulder and whispering amongst themselves. Feral was on his knees, rubbing his wrists and looking down meekly. Once the guards were safely out of view, he looked up, worry and fear distorting the brown tinted tattoos, more disconnected in pattern and function than his elder brother’s.

“What are you doing?” he half-whispered as you knelt down in front of him. “If anyone found out what you were doing…” He trailed off, unsure of what the punishment for disobeying orders in this extremely specific situation would be.

“I realize what would happen, but I’m here and I can help you.” You put your hand over his, pulling him up with you to stand. “We don’t have the time for this conversation. We have to leave. Now.” When you tried to pull him with you, he pulled back his hand.

“They’ll find us. We’ll never be able to escape,” he insisted, planting his feet firmly as he could.

A sigh escaped your lips, your brow forming a tight line above your eyes as you considered your options. It was possible to disappear, though at that point you would run the risk of being chased and the probability of failure was, unfortunately, high. If only there were some way to trick the system.

Bringing your hands together, green smoke flowed silently from the cracks between your palms, and their separation emitted a soft glow that released a denser fog. Congealing, the mist formed a body, kneeling in the position that Feral was in moments ago, matching his appearances to the most minute detail.

Feral was visibly taken aback, gripping your arm in shock. “How did you-”

“We haven’t much time.” You tugged him set again, and as his stubbornness had faltered, he was pulled behind you, balance offset by the sudden motion. “They’ll return for you in a moment, and when they do, we can’t be nearby.”

As he followed you, he kept looking back at the double, which remained relatively motionless where you had left it. “It looks so… real,” he muttered as he followed you.

“As it should. I used the remainder of my arsenal to make it. I’ll have to regenerate my strength if I want to do anything useful.” You cleared platforms up to the top of the valley with Feral following close behind.

“We can’t be made invisible or… hidden?” His voice wavered, apparently relying on your abilities to comfort his nerves.

You shook your head, the strain of the climbing and running causing you to begin to heave. “We’re going to have to deal with that part ourselves.”

Eventually, you were confident in the distance you had cleared, and you paused, holding your knees with your hands and shutting your eyes, trying to will your heart rate back to a manageable position.

He turned back, the emptiness of the space behind a comforting sight to his anxiety. “Savage,” he remembered, straightening himself and looking hurriedly at you. “We have to help Savage. He’ll be there soon and if we hurry, I’m sure we could-”

“No.” You shook your head once you had calmed yourself. “We don’t have time, and if we try, you know, deep down, that we would get caught.”

“B-But we can’t just leave him there, he’ll b-be…” he stammered.

You walked up to him, putting your hands on his shoulders, peering at him with a kind gaze. “We have to go. But I swear to you, you will see him again. You will not be apart for long.”

[refle-chir]

The woes of love, life, and everything else in between

”Happiness isn’t a story. Misfortune is.”

A thought-dump on Us and Them (2018) –– dir. Rene Liu

On a hazy Friday almost-afternoon, I saw a thread asking for film recommendations similar to the kind of empty, yet breaking sadness you’re left with when you watch the likes of 500 days of Summer (2009) or Marriage Story (2019). I saw that this Chinese film recommended multiple times, and was immediately drawn to spend my very rare rest day afternoon to watch it. One Day (2011), Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), among others, it reminded me of movies I’ve loved so dearly. Without any knowledge I was about to watch my new favorite film. 

For as long as I can remember narratives and stories of heartbreak and failed relationship have always been my favorite to know, to watch, to come across with, to tackle. Just the other day, I briefly recalled my favorite, most memorable break-up scenes or post break-up confrontations on popular culture television – ranging from Meredith and Derek to Brooke and Lucas. I have probably watched One More Chance (2007) more times than anyone ever has on this planet. I used to have it on, playing on the background whilst accomplishing my homework in first year high school. There’s just a profound sense of comfort in watching such films that hold these, while possibly overfamiliar, yet strikingly true elements. It has the magic to put grief, emptiness, misery, and even enlightenment, in comprehendible, moving forms; which if you argue with me, feels like a super power given the complexities these feelings hold. There is no one definition of love after-all; a quest mankind’s dedicated lives to solve, write about, narrate, and piece all together. These feelings are one way or another, all rooted in love and its remnants. While I rarely listen to music at all these days, I’m the type of person to play their sad playlist when they’re at their happiest –– these sad narratives just feel like coming home so peacefully to something, no?

Anyhow, I admittedly have an obsession over films that speak to me –– when I fall in love with one, I find myself thinking about it over days and occupying most of the headspace I have. No matter how remotely far stories may be from any of my memories or experiences, it just feels as though we’re entrapped and living the same life with the character we’ve grown attached to in the span of a few minutes. Contestable, but if empathy was in any way teachable, I’d like to believe it can be taught through the consumption of narratives. Do you feel her pain albeit not having gone through exactly what she has? I’ve cried over people’s hearts being broken on screen before I even knew what romantic love felt like.  It took me awhile to dissect what the translated title meant –– but us was Xiaoxiao and Jianqing in the present, shown in black & white, while them was Xiaoxiao and Jianqing in the past, shown in color. Pretty cool and devastating all the same time to be able to refer to past selves in third person; that it just isn’t you anymore. I think we have to acknowledge that we have to grieve losing versions of ourselves; that we lose not only others, but lose a version of ourselves too when we lose them.  Us and them is a 2-hour tale of love and everything else in between in its rawest, purest form. Painfully, it slowly but so suddenly quickly at the same time, takes us through the beginning and non-end of suffocating, crippling, yet moving and irreplaceable love; unadulterated, almost just like how it is to experience love and failed relationships in real life. In an subtle but so deafening way, it depicted asian culture, traditional ambition, and adversity weaved into their troubles coming-of-age; and how it contributed to both why and why not certain things worked out for the both of them. 

Some quotes that particularly stood out to me: “My biggest sorrow is i don't have the right to feel sorrow.”  "About fate, as long as you don't fail each other, that's enough. it is really hard to spend your whole life together. You may have to get older to understand such feelings." When I was younger, I thought there was so much violence in parting ways from people, whether romantically, a friendship, or even death, when you both once played a huge role in each other’s life life, and now are just gone – simply gone. How do you deal with the fact you’ve shared nearly your entire life with someone who is no longer in your life? No exaggerations, no alibis, no explicit reasons; you’re just both gone from each other’s lives, for whatever reason that may be. I’ve frequently explored asking, where does all the love go? A review of this film I came across with (yes, I read multiple ones hahaha), answered it very clearly. The reality is; you lose people constantly in life, you lose one another, you lose your best friend, your significant other, your family member. You might have outgrown them, you might have come to the natural and inevitable end of the relationship, you might have found someone else or the other way around; there’s a multitude of reasons you can lose people who are dear to you, but the fact of the matter is that you both simply lost whatever it was you had; you no longer have each other. But as the letterboxd review put beautifully, “It’s a bittersweet ending about losing someone you love, but not the love you have for them, that belongs to you.” 

[rosiethorns88]

Queen of Nothing Thoughts / Reflection on the Series

Many people are asking me, so I’m pooling them here. I’m not a writer or a reviewer, just a reader. :)

SPOILERS AHEAD:

First, an expectation summary:

- Overall, the book hit all of my high notes and succeeded in its story telling to me, personally. Holly has a pattern with climax building reflected in all three of her books that I really enjoy as a reader. There are shocking moments about two-thirds of the way in each book that feel like climaxes, but after the sudden burst and fall out, it slowly builds up again to another and greater peak. I find the early upsets and expanded conclusions of the final acts to be really satisfying to unfold, page by page. Cardan and Jude are two fascinating characters and the friction their personalities cause with one another make for some satisfying sparks. The whole cast of characters are colorful and the world building is rich, and I enjoyed the escapism the entire series brought to me with each visit.

- I was completely satisfied with the pacing, because it worked for the story at hand. Madoc was making his move and allies from all over Faerie were seeing Cardan’s control over his court wane in his wake. Both Jude and Cardan had to move and move fast to get themselves in a position of defense. In fact, the one act that I feared may have dragged on the longest, Jude’s ‘entrapment’ at the camp, actually moved forward quite quickly and kept my interest once Grimsen and the Ghost entered the mix. To spend time tying up every frayed thread with other non-player characters before the end would have lessened the urgency of story’s impending conflicts. Let’s get Jude and Cardan settled and to their honeymoon first before we chat about Nicasia’s love woes over tea.

- The Jurdan reunion was great, I love how it reflects the previous books with them having to first play act with each other again. Though I was hoping for it to last a bit longer with Cardan stringing Jude along in her disguise. I was really excited for Jude to play switch-a-roo as Taryn, but didn’t expect it to end so suddenly. It would have been a great call back to the circumstance of Cardan’s being tricked at the end of The Wicked King.

- The fact the Cardan was so involved with Jude’s runarounds: the rescue attempt from the palace, the actual rescue from the camp, his tag-alongs with her questing. It made all of their interactions very satisfying as it was expanding beyond the verbal throw-downs they only had before. I’ve seen many people complain there were not enough Jurdan scenes, but y’all. We barely had a breath of their interactions from the 1st and 2nd books compared to QoN. I was thoroughly pleased.

- The fact that Cardan indulges in Jude’s political nature and wears it proudly like a brooch when he’s addressing his court. He’s basically like, “I’m here to be my witty and sarcastic self; she’s here to be her just and vicious self. We complete each other.”

- CARDAN REUNITES WITH HIS DOOR! This was my favorite reunion scene as it was one of the many world building elements I enjoyed from the first book. Cardan’s playful and endearing greeting to his door at Hallow Hall was such a thought provoking element - I could only imagine as he grew up at the hall, he had little things or persons to befriend. And with the revelation of Cardan sneaking out human servants in the night, it makes sense he could get away with it with this unique friendship. I’m so glad this was a payoff.

- Madoc - I love Madoc. SO MUCH. He’s such a rich character, it’s so hard to call him morally grey when his character is so colorfully rich. Every chapter I either put an extra tick on his ‘I hate you so much’ or ‘I love you so much’ tally. He’s so true to his nature as a red cap, yet still so loving and caring for his family. He truly shows his hurt and conflict in his anger towards Jude after he finds she has betrayed or outwitted him. I reflect back to The Cruel Prince, when Jude was reminiscing how she and Madoc would play a board game of strategy (like chess) and have to interrupt it. All day, Jude would think about her possible moves and his possible moves, so when they returned to the game, the entire strategy had changed. This is how they interacted all through out the novel. Every thought and move was predicted, then challenged, then overturned before they could even meet face to face again. It’s amazing how there are no villains or heroes in this story; Jude and Madoc’s conflict were just an ever spinning tornado of their own morals and loyalties and ideals.

- Ghost & Taryn redeemed! I must admit, I was completely shaken by the Ghost’s betrayal in TWK, and did not expect him to be a redeemable character, though I did expect him to be involved somehow. I’m a little less satisfied with how quickly Taryn changed her spots back, especially with the build up from The Lost Sisters novella, and wish that Locke wasn’t killed off-screen. I can believe what she said happened, and that she was unhappy with the situation, but for it all to be delivered in one sitting as a monologue, it didn’t sink in for me for a while. I didn’t expect to have a redeeming arc for either of them, nor expect hints at their possible relationship, but it all fell into place nicely. At the end, I felt that the Ghost deserved to have his freedom, and that Taryn was appropriate to hold him to it.

- The Bomb and The Roach! I was happy for them to find their happily ever after, but Noooooo I didn’t want the Roach to be fridged! The Roach x The Bomb x Jude x Cardan interactions produce the best lines in the entire series and I was super sad to see the Roach exit so early. But from the little we received, it was a delight.

- Nicasia, Valerian (his curse), Locke - to me these three didn’t have the conclusions I was hoping for, but there may be open lore left to explore for Holly. I do understand why others insist that the last book be split into two and expanded upon, but the book was sharply focused on Jude and Cardan’s predicaments. Nicasia, Valerian and Locke all had unfinished stories and conflicts with both of them, but they were past issues that weren’t actively affecting the plot, and so I wasn’t troubled by their absence. But I’m hoping short stories or expanded lore in other Holly-verse novels may touch upon them.

- Vivi / Heather - This side plot got a little more attention than I expected, even though I didn’t appreciate the decisions both Vivi and Heather made (just as Jude didn’t).  I was actually expecting Heather to take the route that she did, but just a little bit further than where she ended up. I love that she went completely Hermione on the group, but really wasn’t helpful in the end (which is ok). However, I think the true recourse for Heather’s involvement was intended solely for Vivi. By Heather experiencing Faerie a second time with the expectations of the terrors it offered, she was able to see other facets of the world Vivi has ties too, which is why she gave Vivi the second chance to reintroduce it to her in a better light.

- Oak / Oriana -  I find Oriana such a delight as a character, but I don’t know why I always forget she exists until she appears on page. Which is appropriate, as she makes herself seen and be heard when she wants to. I love how helicopter parent she is with Jude even though she’s made it clear that she barely tolerates their familial ties. Still, her ability to parry Jude’s rebellious and un-lady-like behavior with her witty retorts gave us some of my favorite scenes from the previous books, and I enjoyed their brief reunion under the same circumstances at the camp. Oak, on the other hand I felt was underused as a character, and instead, justifiably used as a political object. Oak and Oriana’s relationship made for an interesting divisiveness between Team Madoc and Team Jude, that I think was an important factor, but ultimately Oak didn’t have much to do in decision makings in the QoN like he did in TCP. However, I feel this is because his character arc begins at the end of this novel with the new character ex-Queen Suren. And whether or not that story makes it onto a page, I can accept that his story was left open-ended to begin here.

Regarding Jude:

I think it’s important to highlight Jude’s development with her feelings toward Cardan - specifically with her reaction toward her exile. I wouldn’t say she’s an unreliable narrator, more so, she’s an unreliable romantic. Jude is the ‘DON’T Notice Me Senpai’ main character who throws red flags up for every action Cardan does.

A very popular theory about Cardan’s exile was that Jude would be able to pardon herself since she is part of the crown as queen. When that turned out to be true, I saw a lot of disappointment from readers with the obviousness of it - but that’s because it was obvious to ourselves, and it always has been. Cardan’s wordplay is a defining trait for his character and there have been several scenes where we the reader are completely in the know when he’s doing it and are charmed by it right along with Jude. During the exiling, Jude is not in the know and is blinded at first by her stupor as a newly wed and then later with her doubt in Cardan’s feelings for her as she flat out admits to herself that the crown pardon could be a loop hole.

This is what makes the rose garden scene such a great turning point - because they both realized they fooled each other without knowing it and are both distressed by each other’s reaction. Their trust in each other was becoming more brittle as it grew, until they realized they both could no longer play their old schemes against each other without risking that trust breaking.

All throughout, Jude has been judging and second guessing everything he does while she scrambles across this political chess board. Deny his feelings, manipulating her own feelings, pushing and pulling and advancing further to the top before her desire for power and her desire for Cardan meet at the peak. And here, between the possibility of losing the power she gained or condemning the feelings she found, is when she finally has to make that choice for herself, when she had viable reasons to go either way. With the way she struggled for both, she earned that right to choose.

Favorite moments / quotes:

- Cardan flinching at Jude’s indirect confession while she was disguised as Taryn - and Jude wholly unaware of the implications.

- Cardan relishing in his cleverness about the exile, while Jude is like WTF and they’re completely clueless about each other’s reaction until in the later rose garden scene. - Cardan’s ‘Jude, DON’T!’ - seriously, listen to the audiobook, you can hear the fear in his voice as his murder wife runs off to battle. And because we the readers can hear that fear, while Jude doesn’t, makes it more heart breaking.

- Madoc alluding to Jude (as Taryn) about Cardan’s berserk mode when he tried to prevent Jude’s capture at the palace. And of course, Jude denying it (psh)

- Cardan doing the grunt work in Jude’s camp rescue, and getting socked in the stomach for it - hah! And of course, The Roach preening he warned him.

- Cardan subconsciously protecting Jude from the arrow trap

- Jude scaring off a faerie guard with mortal menstruation.

- “Do not touch her. She is my wife.”

- How LONG have I waited for Cardan to finally witness how much Jude mutilates her body from her fights, and then for him care for her himself in his bed was just an extra mountain of whipped cream with sprinkles on top. (remember, she hid from him her hand stabbing, her self-poisoning, her leg injury from Locke’s attack, the details of Valerian’s attempt to murder her TWICE, the details of her torturous time in the undersea, etc. Let him know your WOES, woman! Y’all need to cash in some empathy points!)

- Jude having no choice but to wear Cardan’s clothes

- SLAP

- “Maybe he’d like to hear me scream.” exchange. And the hair touch!

- MY DOOR!

- The Ghost spider scrambling up the wall towards Cardan, and Taryn whiplashing him. Poor baby!

- Cardan intrigued by Slushies and Gummy Worms

- Cardan privately reprimanding Randalin about Jude and him scurrying out of the room in a panic. WHAT WAS SAID? CARDAN WAS SMILING.

- Freakin Cardan confessing and cutting her off at the door.

- Jude taking the time to panic, to mourn and to plan after the transformation. I felt giving too much haste toward a ‘Disney-true-love-spell-breaking ending’ would have ruined the direness of Cardan’s sacrifice.

- That fingers-digging-into-her-back hug.

- Tight pants, t-shirt and a Lopsided paper crown.

[dailyaudiobible]

02/01/2021 DAB Transcript

Exodus 13:17-15:18, Matt 21:23-46, Ps 26:1-12, Pr 6:16-19

Today is the 1st day of February, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian and it's great to be here with you today. Obviously it’s a special day because we’re transitioning into the second month of the year, but it’s a special day because we've completed a whole month together, which means we are settling into a rhythm and we are settling into community for the year. It's…it’s interesting. If we…we make it to Valentine's Day, then the chances are really good that we are going to make it through the year together. And, so, well done for making it all the way here to the second month of the year. Let’s just take a second to think back. It's only been a month, but look at all that has happened. We…we found our origin story. We discussed that. We found out in the third chapter of Genesis what happened to us. We know this is the fall of man. We…we saw the repercussions of that immediately, both in the world and in the human heart. Mankind was naked and unashamed. That was the natural state of things. That’s how it was supposed to be both inward and outward week. We weren’t supposed to have to hide. We weren’t supposed to have hide from each other or from God. But that's what happened, naked and ashamed and hiding. And that's what we see everywhere we look, including in the mirror. And, so, we got some context. And we went through famous stories that we've probably heard our whole lives, like Noah and the flood. And we then met this man Abram and God calling this man Abram to a land he didn't know and giving a promise for this land and changing his name to Abraham and entering into a covenant with him. And then we watched the miraculous story begin to unfold as generations passed to new generations and more and more children were born. And, so, Abraham has Isaac. Isaac as Jacob. And we hear this often in the Bible, “the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.” And then Jacob's name was changed to Israel. And all the sudden we have a context for what we hear about the children of Israel. The children of Jacob and his offspring, the children of Israel. And we watched the story of Joseph at length, one of the children of Israel, who was trafficked by his brothers into slavery in Egypt. We watched God save Egypt from plague, saving Joseph's family in the process. And then we watched them prosper in…in Egypt, four centuries. Like, four centuries, but they were enslaved and then we met another powerful pivotal figure in the Scriptures named Moses, who was sent back to Egypt to be the…the prophet of God and to demand the freedom of God's people. And that brought on all these plagues that we’ve been reading about the last few days. And that's where we find ourselves. The final plague has descended upon Egypt. The…the children of Israel have been forcibly forced out of Egypt. And that's where we pick up the story as we begin this second month of the year. And we’re reading from the Voice Translation this week. Exodus chapter 13 verse 17 through 15 verse 18.

Commentary:

Okay. A few things we should probably take note of from our reading today because they will help us with our day and our week and this brand-new shiny sparkly month that we find ourselves in. Let's go to the book of Exodus first. The children of Israel have been set free from the bondage of slavery in Egypt. And we watched all of that unfold plague after plague after plague sort of systematically dismantling Egypt. And Pharaoh's arrogance in believing that he is a deity, that he is divine, that he is a God himself, and who is this Hebrew God that would come. And you can kinda get in his head and understand why he would think this. If he has been raised to believe that he is a child, a son of God, that he is the Pharaoh, like a divine being upon the earth, the king of Egypt, and he has a population of people who are his slaves and this population of people who are his slaves come and say, “our God says that you should let us go.” I mean if you think you are divine yourself then you would be thinking, “well, at bare minimum you are my slaves. Whoever your God is is no way near as powerful as the gods of Egypt or me.” So, we can see him resisting and we can see God just demonstrating His power before them at first but then things definitely begin to take a more serious turn and things amp up all the way until Pharaoh and the Egyptians demand the children of Israel leave, which they did. And then we…we read something really interesting that could really help us in our lives. So, the children of Israel were freed from slavery. They entered the desert because that's…that's the way to go to the promised land, across the Sinai Peninsula, but God did not lead them by the shortest, easiest coastal route. He led them deeper into the desert. So, in other words, He set them free and did not give them any easy path, did not give them the most straightforward path. There was work to be done in that desert. And we’re in that desert now, right? They’ve crossed the Red Sea and they are on the other side of the Red Sea, but they are in the desert and they are going to be there, and we are going to be there with them for what feels like an awful long time, 40 years to be specific. Actually, even more than that. And, so, we’ll be spending some time in the desert. And this is our desert portion of the year and we need to embrace it because there are so many lessons in the wilderness. And I mean that metaphorically in our lives, but I also mean that literally in the stories that we’ll find in the Bible that come from the wilderness. So, the children of Israel are in the wilderness backed up to the Red Sea when they notice that an army is coming against them. And the closer that tis army gets the more they realize these are the Egyptians. This is the Egyptian Army coming to destroy us and re-enslave. Of course, the Egyptians and Pharaoh after they…after they let the people go, they start imagining the repercussions. This is going to be devastating to their economy because now you have…you have about a million people that are your slaves that have been propping things up that you've set free. And, so, they’re reconsidering and hardening their hearts again. And they’re gonna go back and get going back and get the Hebrew people. Meanwhile the Hebrew people are kind of boxed in. It’s the wilderness in front of them, the Red Sea, the ocean behind them and the enemy army is bearing down upon them. We could pause here and just think about seasons in our lives where we have felt trapped and boxed in, like where there is literally no good way to go. The enemy is coming down against us. It’s the sea behind us and the mountains and the wilderness before us. There is no way to escape. And, so, the Hebrew people do basically what we would normally do. They start to complain and gripe about the predicament they’re in because now God has come to set them free and things have only gotten worse again. Do you see a theme emerging, though? Is this not the story of Joseph where when he did everything right things only got worse? So, they're ready to abandon Moses, see if they can maybe go back to Egypt and become slaves again because that might be better. While here's this army that’s gonna destroy them. They are trapped. And God speaks to Moses and Moses speaks to the people. The only thing you need to do is shut your mouth and watch this. This enemy that you see today you will never see them again. And that is indeed what happened. And that is indeed something that we should put in our pocket or purse and carry around with us for the next year.

Then we move into the book of Matthew. The religious leadership, we are talking about the clergy, right? We are talking about men of God who are leading the people are getting pretty fed up with Jesus. God in flesh. Like, they do not believe. And, so, they confront Jesus about how…who gave Him permission to do what He's doing. And, of course, as we have come to notice in the first month of the year Jesus is always going to speak to the truth of the situation. He’s always good to talk to the plot behind the story. He knows that what's being presented is a mask, that everyone is naked and ashamed and hiding. And, so, He's like, “well, let me ask you a question.” And He talks about John because they didn't believe in John either. And, so, Jesus ends up telling the story about a man who had a vineyard and he fixed it all up and got it ready for business, and then he leased it and went away and when a  harvest time came he wanted his share of the harvest, but the tenants refused became rebellious, beat up the people who came to collect the harvest on a number of occasions until the master sent is heir, his son to come and collect because he's the heir, he that…he's the owner. And, so, they should respect the owner of the vineyard but they don't. They conspire to kill him, which is what they do. And then Jesus asks the religious leadership what the Masters gonna do. And they immediately answer, “the master is gonna destroy those people.” They were speaking out their own future essentially, because in the story the vineyard is the Kingdom, and the master is the Father, and the Son is Jesus. And this story is an interesting warning about religious dominance. When religion is used to ensnare or entrap or control people then there is no value in it. That might sound bigger than it should. But it's simply the story that's coming out of all of the Gospels. The people that were against Jesus were the people of God, God's leaders who did not recognize that God was doing a new thing in the world and did everything to destroy that new thing including...including killing God, including killing Jesus. God made flesh. So, we should get some clues that this journey we are on as we walk alongside Jesus and listen to what He has to say and watch the away that He operates and observe His character that we may find a bunch of challenges, that we may need to listen to Jesus instead of what we've been told about Him, that we might need to press in closer and deeper as we watch the amazing and that's an understatement…the amazing thing that God had chose to do when He chose to come and rescue people again from slavery. Slavery to the oppressiveness of what was going on around them in their culture and slavery to sin. And we also may need to understand that when we become free we may not be taking the easy road. We may need to go into the wilderness because there is work to do there.

Prayer:

Jesus, we invite You into that because it doesn't sound like it would be fun. We don’t want to go wander in the wilderness. We felt like we did that all year last year. And yet the thing You are after is our freedom. And we confess that even as we see it in the Scriptures, we see it in our own lives. We fight You on that because it might be hard, it might be difficult. We might have to endure. It may get more difficult, before it gets easier and we don't like that. We don't like that. And yet You've been very clear all along that there is a narrow path that leads to life and that that is the path that leads to life and few ever find it, but wide is the road to destruction, the easy path. And, so, as we move into this second month, we are inviting Your Holy Spirit to begin to align us with where You're going, to begin aiming us in the direction we need to head in no matter what it looks like because we as the children of Israel are going to have to learn that there is no other hope outside of You. You are the only hope there is and we must trust You utterly. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it is…it's the website, it’s where you find out what’s going on around here. And equal…equally effective way to find what's going on around here would be the Daily Audio Bible app. So, check that out. It's how to stay connected in a virtual community moving through the Bible in a year.

So, stay connected to the Prayer Wall. Stay connected through social media. There are number of channels that we’re involved in. You can find those in the Community section of the app or the website.

Check out the Daily Audio Bible Shop. There are resources, like I say, to go deeper, but also just to be involved. So, check out the different sections in the Daily Audio Bible Shop.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible in the mission to continue to bring God's spoken word read fresh every day and…and given freely to anyone who will listen anywhere anytime and to keep building community around that rhythm, which is what we call the Global Campfire and what we enjoy every day. If that matters. If that is life-giving to you than thank you for your partnership. There is a link on the homepage of the website. If you're using the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if you prefer, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you've a prayer request or encouragement, you can Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button up at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi, my DAB family this is Truly Thankful Taylor just wanted to say hi tonight. I have three of my little ones with me…2 littles and one teenager. Girls do you wanna say hi? Hi. We've been talking about our reading for today in DAB Kids and Chronological and all the different stuff 'cause all of our family are doing different ones. Some of us are doing all five in English. Some of us are just doing Chronological or kids and we're just loving God's word even more but we were talking about having faith as small as a mustard seed that it can move mountains. So, each…two of the girls wanted to pray tonight. So, sister do you want to start? What did you want to share? That people would have faith in God and that people would love God even more and let Him be in their heart. Jesus thank you for the day. Thank you for everything you have done. Thank you for being our God. And I want to…I want people to let you into their heart. In Jesus’ name. Amen. OK sister. Jesus thank you for the day that we have faith in us and faith in Jesus and that everyone starts praying and those who don't pray now pray. And have Jesus where? In our faith, in their heart. That's right. We pray all this in Jesus name. Amen. Love and blessings everybody. Bye. Bye. Bye.  

Hi, my name is Luanne from Texas. I just want to say thanks. This journey so far has been so good and so revealing. It's been so wonderful to watch the creation and then the de-creation and with the New Testament seeing what the recreation could be. I'm just so grateful. I'm grateful for Brian for this. I'm grateful to the community who’s reading it along with me and it's just been so healing after 2020. I'm just so grateful. So, Lord I just ask that for those who are weary, come. Come to the Bible. Sit with us and learn and you will find much joy. I ask this in our most holy savior's name, Jesus. Amen.

Good morning fellow DABbers this is Sally in Massachusetts Amazed by Grace it's January 27th and I am so thankful this morning that I listened as I do most every day to the DAB and so blessed by the word of God and so encouraged today as we read of Moses and Aaron and pharaoh and the people, how God works through everyone to carry out His plans and purposes. He worked through pharaoh. He worked through Moses. He worked through Moses mother and father. He accomplishes purposes through people and He's accomplishing His purposes in and through each of us day by day as we yield to Him. And I'm just so thankful that we worship a God of power, a God of a plan, a God with purposes. And I am so thankful that we have this family to worship God together, to encourage and strengthen each other. Thank you, Daughter of the King from Tennessee. I so appreciated your prayers and your thoughts today. And Pamela from Pennsylvania how easy it is. I have also often been guided by fear instead of faith in making decisions. And dear brother McQueen from Utah. Lord we pray Your comfort to this family. Thank You for Betsy Lopez and the wonderful grandma she was to him. We pray Your comfort to this family at this time. And Lord we thank You that although world at times feels like it's out of control You are God alone from before time began and You are on Your throne because You are God alone. Increase our faith in You Lord we pray and thank You in Jesus’ powerful name.

Hello Daily Audio Bible my name is Gail and I'm calling from Las Vegas. I'm calling in response to a boy that just called in about his grandma, Grandma Lopez who was in a car accident and he wanted to get the word out to us about his grandma. I am so proud of you for the courage that you showed to call in and let us know what happened to your grandma. I felt that you two had an amazing relationship and you were so close. And I bet you miss her. I really know that you miss her because you wanted to make a lasting memory and let us know that she died, and it was important to you to get the word out. So, I applaud your courage sweet boy and I just wanted to say that we hear you and we are praying for you. Keep calling in. Keep calling in. We love to hear from you. Bye for now.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible I'm calling in to speak to Golda McQueen. Young man your courage to send in the message to speak to the people about your grandmother and her legacy of love in your life touched my heart in so many ways to remember my own grandmother. I want to know not only Betsy Lopez will be remembered today for her own life but for the life that she poured into you. And I just want to encourage you with two verses that I thought of when I heard you speaking. Exodus 4:12. So, go Golda. I will be with you. When you speak and I will give you the words to say. And in Acts Jesus himself came to Paul and encouraged him to keep speaking. He said in acts 18 9 and 10 during the night Paul had a vision and the Lord said to him don't be afraid and don't stop talking to people I am with you and no one will be able to hurt you. Many of my people are in the city. Heavenly Father I pray You pour out a triple blessing upon Golda McQueen as he goes to the funeral of his grandmother whom he loved so much and wants her to be remembered and it made such an impact to remember my own grandmother I know prayed for me, but I never got to grow up with her. So, I…I thank you Golda. You have touched my heart in ways you'll never know until we see each other in heaven. God bless you son.

Hello, my name is Richard today is my first day listening in several years. I just listened to February 27th recording that I was blessed by. Some of you may remember I was Richard from Mississippi back in 2018 I went through a divorce. I moved back home to Arkansas. That’s where I stay at now. I work for my dad part time. I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm trying to get back into reading the word and listening to DAB every morning. So, I covet your prayers that you would pray for me as I establish a new habit and to know the Lord. Bless each and every one of you in Jesus’ name.

Good morning this is Radiant Faith in Georgia. I'm listening on January the 27th and I just heard a young man from Nevada I believe his name was Golda McQueen. He's nine years old and he was on his way…I hope I can get this out. He was on his way to his grandma's funeral. I'm a grandma and this just really touched my heart, the love that he had for her. He said that it's hard to get messages out from where he lives and he's only nine years old but let me tell you something, we heard you loud and clear. We heard the love that you had for your grandma and I just pray, and I believe that Jesus let her hear you. Oh, Lord I know she was proud of you.

[troybeecham]

Fr. Troy Beecham

Sermon, Proper 24 A, 2020

Matthew 22:15-22

The Pharisees went and plotted to entrap Jesus in what he said. So they sent their disciples to him, along with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality. Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites? Show me the coin used for the tax.” And they brought him a denarius. Then he said to them, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” They answered, “The emperor’s.” Then he said to them, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” When they heard this, they were amazed; and they left him and went away.

During the previous several weeks, Jesus was teaching in the Temple. Jewish Temple officials questioned his authority to do “these things”, that is, his authoritative teaching of the Torah and Prophets, as well as his miracles. Jesus declines to answer their repeated questions about where he derives his authority to teach and power to perform miracles. He declines because any answer could only be understood by those with faith, in his Father and in him. Just before this morning’s Gospel reading, we read and explored the parable of the Wedding Feast, a parable which the Pharisees saw as an attack on them given their actions following their interaction with Jesus.

In this Gospel passage, more followers of the Pharisees are joined by Herodians, who were those people who supported the rule of Herod and his successors, the client kings of the Roman Empire. In every other aspect of life, these two communities were enemies, but now they had become united only in their desire to get rid of Jesus because he either threatened to disrupt their corrupt lives, as had John the Baptist, or because he threatened their claim to be the authorities on the interpretation and teaching of the Torah and Prophets.

As they approach him to engage in debate, they use language that gives the appearance of respect for him. The fact is that they were trying to entrap him so that they could denounce him to the Roman and Temple authorities. The question they bring to Jesus in this passage was a subject of great debate in Jewish circles that had religious and civic repercussions: should faithful Jews pay the annual census tax to Rome? The census tax was different from other taxes in that it was a tax that went directly to the emperor’s personal treasury, and had to be paid using a specific coin bearing the image and titles of the emperor. Ordinary taxes are covered in the Torah as a common part of life. Opinions varied at the time depending on whether they were coming from a religious background or a civic. Not only were Pharisees and Herodians present, but interestingly so were Zealots, a militant religious sect who claimed that God’s people should not be subject to pagan Gentiles and who were attempting to raise an armed rebellion against Rome.

As in other such encounters, Jesus sees through their plot; he calls them hypocrites for pretending to respect him but intending to discredit him. It’s an interesting side-note that the Greek word “hypocrite” was the word used for stage actors. Jesus is wise beyond their comprehension, and calls them out for the farce that they have employed to entrap him. And he doesn’t just call them out to shame them but to invite them into true dialogue that has the possibility of leading them to faith. He knows that this is simply stage play pretending to be honest debate with the desire to learn. If Jesus says yes, Jews must pay the census tax, the Zealots and other Jews hostile to Rome, who had been hoping that Jesus would be their Messianic military leader, will turn against him, which in fact they eventually do. If Jesus says no, Jews ought not to pay the emperor’s census tax, he risks being arrested for inciting rebellion against Rome, which was one way for the Pharisees and the Sadducees to get rid of their opponents. It’s a sad reality, then as now, that human politics and the desire for power are as present in secular life as in the Temple or the Church.

Part of the stage acting, for the sake of the common people who would no doubt be intently listening, can be seen in their saying, “for you do not regard people with partiality.” The Greek literally translates as “for you do not look upon the face of a man.” This literal translation is interesting and important because this attempt at entrapment involves the face of the emperor on a coin. Time and again they had tried to entrap him, which was forbidden by the Torah, and they have failed yet again in one of their most devious and coordinated attempts. In fact, it shows up at the trial of Jesus when the Temple authorities and Sanhedrin cite this encounter as indemnification of Jesus to Pilate. When Jesus asks, “Whose head (image) is this, and whose title?” the key issue is that the emperor’s head is inscribed on the coin.

For non-Jews, we may miss the vital connection that Jesus wants us to make: God makes each one of us in His image. This coin may bear Caesar’s image, but you and I bear God’s image. So the question is reframed: what does it mean to render unto the emperor or God? The emperor may get a few of these coins, but God requires us to give ourselves. The ultimate question is who has ultimate sovereignty over us, the emperor or God? For Roman listeners, they hear Jesus say that taxes should be paid. But for some Jewish listeners, who will immediately hear his referring to our being made in the image of God in Genesis 1, this places his religious peers in a bind: are they going to continue in this charade or will they hear the voice of God and repent?

His answer later includes the word “give”, which in Greek can also mean give back or repay. This again redirects their question in a subtle way, taking the encounter from a question about the authority of Rome to the authority of God. Reframing the question again in this manner forced his Jewish peers to accept that there were larger implications to what they thought was a narrow question. For Jews and Christians, we believe ultimately that all we have is given to us by God; all that we are and have comes from God and belongs to God. We owe everything to him. This change of direction in the encounter forces them to remember this, and the teaching that all human authority is, in some manner, appointed or allowed by God. Jesus seems to accept the status quo, including taxes, as the lesser of two evils, either being ruled by Rome or descend into a war that the Jews cannot hope to win. He does not accept the state’s claim to be divine, but teaches that God’s domain is greater than that of the emperor, and that God’s kingdom will come on a day of God’s choosing. (St. Paul later uses similar thought in his Letter to the Romans 13:7 as part of a passage in which Paul says that administrators are sanctioned by God, as does St. Peter in his Letter, 1 Peter 2:17.)

In practical terms, Jesus sidesteps an obvious ploy: he has one of them hold the coin, which had the image of the emperor on one side and on the obverse side of the coin is inscribed Tiberius Caesar, son of the divine Augustus, great high priest. Simply touching such a coin was an affront to his fellow monotheistic Jews, and he manages to have them hold the coin rather than touching it himself. Jesus’ wise answer, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s”, and his forcing them to hold the offending coin without realizing what they were doing because their sole focus was on entrapping him rather than seeking wisdom from God, left his interlocutors “amazed”, literally gaping with their mouths wide open in astonishment. The most important question for the Jews, Jesus says, is “Who is really in charge of the world and the human family?”

In the end, this is the question: who is in charge of your life? Yes, we are all subject to the powers of this world for now, and held captive by human greed and desire for the power to rule over others. But only for now. God promises that the age of the world in which we now live, which we must endure with faith, hope, and love, and strive to bring some part of the kingdom of God into being through the Holy Spirit, will come to an end, when God creates a new heaven and earth, a conjoined reality in which there is no evil, suffering, or wickedness. We will finally be free from the spiritual powers of darkness and from our own desires to be gods with the power of life and death over each other in our hands.

That day is coming, says Jesus and the Jewish Prophets. We have only to endure through hope and faith, through the power of the Holy Spirit. Until that day, as St. Paul says, “Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers”, and “therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.” Let us leave behind the course discourse of our time, the falling apart into factions, of desiring to rule over each other, and win no matter the cost. The price for these is too high. Instead, may our words and actions with each other show the truth of the Faith, that God is in control and is working out all things for our mutual good. “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things” and may our words and actions show forth the love of God in Jesus our Savior.

Almighty and everlasting God, in Christ you have revealed your glory among the nations: Preserve the works of your mercy, that your Church throughout the world may persevere with steadfast faith in the confession of your Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen.

[jilyyall]

Animal Magnetism

Edward Cullen was not a normal teenager; of that I was certain. But knowing that did nothing to stop the pull I felt towards him. And if what he was saying was any indication, he felt some strange pull towards me, too. It was like we were magnets struggling against hope to stay apart. I only wondered what would happen when we inevitably collided.

Intro - Forks. Fanfiction.net / AO3 Intro/1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11

I had never given much thought to love, at least not as far as it pertained to me. My parents married young, caught up in the rush of hormones and complacency that accompanied a long-term high school romance in a small town. I was born less than a year after they got married. They didn't even make it to their second wedding anniversary; shortly after my first birthday, my mother Renee took me and fled.

It wasn't my father Charlie she was running from, but the dreariness, the boredom that defined Forks, Washington. Charlie was a good man, a good husband, and a good father. He was the youngest and most promising sheriff's deputy on the force and he liked to hike and go fishing when he wasn't working, and he ate at the same small diner several times a week.

Charlie was unfailingly good and unfalteringly loyal, but whatever she felt for him just wasn't enough incentive for Renee to stay in the tiresome town in which he was so content. It was either cold or rainy, or an even more miserable combination of the two almost every day of the year. There was almost no sunshine in Forks, which explained why Renee tended to gravitate to sunny cities.

We moved every few years; Renee just couldn't settle down. By the time I was ten, I had called Reno, Fresno, and Jacksonville home. It seemed like every time we started to make a place a real home, that same creeping feeling of being entrapped would overtake her and she would pack me up and move along.

It was clear that Renee loved Charlie; what other possible explanation was there for why she never sought another man? She just didn't love him enough. He was a police deputy when I was a kid, and quickly rose through the ranks until he managed to snag Chief of Police. He was calm and quiet and steady, and he was reliable if not always very warm.

He would call a few times a week and we would sit through a painfully awkward, incredibly quiet thirty minutes. Charlie was a man of few words, and I was his daughter, after all. Sometimes, speaking just wasn't my strong suit either. I would spend a few weeks with him every summer, but that was the extent of my time with him. He was a decent father, at least as decent as he could be in the limited time we had together.

Until my thirteenth birthday. Renee and I moved to Phoenix, Arizona just a few months before my birthday and Charlie, quite uncharacteristically, decided to start using his annual time off on one long trip to Phoenix during the summers when he realized I didn't want to be with him in Forks. It was weird, but also kind of awesome. When Charlie was around, it was like we were a real family, if only for the few weeks we were all together.

When I was fifteen, I realized that my parents weren't just getting along better and keeping in touch for my sake anymore. They were actually just getting back together. I didn't expect it to be as nice as it was to have a mom and dad who actually loved each other, but it was really cool to get to at least be somewhat of a normal family.

Renee was never one to hold back a laugh, or to stifle her enthusiasm for life but with Charlie around, the light in her eyes intensified, looked more like legitimate happiness. Charlie, for his part, actually smiled when we were all together, and laughed, and spoke however haltingly about his feelings. Perhaps the best part, though, was that I didn't have to go to spend my summers in Forks anymore. I got to spend all of my time in Phoenix with my friends and my parents.

Until I didn't.

Just a few days after my seventeenth birthday, my parents sat me down at the kitchen table and told me that they were ready to really be together again, to be married, for the three of us to be a real family full-time.

Renee worked from home most of the time, running a relatively successful blog where she wrote about art and displayed some of her own paintings and pottery. On occasion, she would offer lessons, but her main income was from her blog which kept her from being stuck in any one place for too long. Charlie, on the other hand, had a whole life in Forks and a lot of responsibilities there, which meant that Renee and I would have to transplant ourselves right back to where we started.

Barely a week after they told me we were leaving, the lease on our apartment was broken and everything was packed and loaded in a trailer to be hauled to my father's small two-bedroom, one-bathroom house in Forks.

Fittingly, it was raining when I said goodbye to my friends in Phoenix.

I didn't speak to Charlie and Renee the entire drive to Forks; I was too stubborn, too upset, too heartbroken. I couldn't understand how Renee could do this to me, how she could pull me from the one place that had finally started to feel like home and force me back to the stifling, wet, cold place she had fled so many years before.

It was just two years. All I had to do was grit my teeth and bear it. It didn't matter that I was starting a new school in a new state just a couple months into my junior year. It didn't. I wouldn't put down any roots. I didn't have to make friends in Forks; I had gone almost thirteen years without making any real friends. I would just keep in touch with my friends in Phoenix and then go back after graduation no matter what Renee and Charlie wanted.

Then I met him. He was terrifying and beautiful, kind and cruel, ingratiating and aggravating, hot and cold. Part of me wanted to stay away from him, but I just couldn't.

I found myself at somewhat of an impasse. I could either play off my inquisitiveness as just that – mere curiosity – or I could admit, if only to myself, that there was something more at play, something drawing me in. It was as if he was a magnet and I was a lump of iron, impossibly attracted and incapable of resisting his pull.

No, I had never given much thought to my own love life, but then, wasn't it often said that the right thing comes along when you least expect it? Well, I certainly didn't expect it here.

I found friendship and, above all, love in the most unlikely of places, the most unlikely of creatures.

It was in this ever-green city that everything I had heard in myths and legends really came to life for me. I learned that the very creatures of legend that people feared but never really believed in truly did exist and were living among us. But they weren't as scary, as dangerous, as legend told. Or were they?

FFN / AO3

[ianspirations]

Querida Amazonia - A Summary

Pope Francis summarizes the discussions of the synod into 4 dreams which I think are a brilliant way of portraying the situation as well as the vision for the Amazonian region in particular and for the world in general. He says clearly that he has wilfully refrained from quoting the final document of the Synod because he desires that “everyone read it in full” (QA 3).

“The Amazon region” in the words of the Pope, “is a multinational and interconnected whole, a great biome shared by nine countries: Brazil, Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador, Guyana, Peru, Surinam, Venezuela and the territory of French Guiana” (QA 5). Although this is a directed exhortation, the Pope chooses to open it up for the whole world since “the Church’s concern for the problems of this area obliges us to discuss, however briefly, a number of other important issues that can assist other areas of our world in confronting their own challenges” (QA 5).

Here I wish to quote the first part of paragraph 6 because it is so powerful in its message, rich in meaning and clear in its instruction. The Pope writes, “Everything that the Church has to offer must become incarnate in a distinctive way in each part of the world, so that the Bride of Christ can take on a variety of faces that better manifest the inexhaustible riches of God’s grace. Preaching must become incarnate, spirituality must become incarnate, ecclesial structures must become incarnate” (QA 6)

The Four Dreams

I.                    A Social Dream: I dream of an Amazon region that fights for the rights of the poor, the original peoples and the least of our brothers and sisters, where their voices can be heard and their dignity advanced. (QA 7)

The aim of this dream is to bring about a situation wherein every person can enjoy ‘good living.’ This consists in making arduous efforts on behalf of the poor. The Amazon is facing an ‘ecological disaster’ but it is not enough to tackle the ecological issue leaving aside the extremely versatile social situation. The Pope quoting Laudato Si (LS) #49 says, “a true ecological approach always becomes a social approach; it must integrate questions of justice in debates on the environment, so as to hear both the cry of the earth and the cry of the poor.”

The Amazonian region holds massive interest for colonizers; these are not seeking to conquer the place as the colonizers of old but desire to control the land in a new way chiefly through timber and mining industries. This wanton greed has expelled and marginalized the indigenous peoples, the river people and those of African descent who inhabited these parts. What resulted from this fiasco was enslavement, subjection, poverty, xenophobia, sexual exploitation and human trafficking (QA 10).

All those national and international business that have contributed to turning the Amazon into a living hell for the people are guilty of “injustice and crime” (QA 14). The Pope humbly exhorts, “we cannot allow globalization to become ‘a new version of colonialism’” (QA 14).

“We need to feel outrage, as Moses did (cf. Ex 11:8), as Jesus did (cf. Mk 3:5), as God does in the face of injustice (cf. Am 2:4-8; 5:7-12; Ps 106:40)” (QA 15). Colonialism has not ended; it has merely been changed, disguised and concealed (QA 16). In order to combat this grave evil we have to “overcome the colonizing mentalities and build networks of solidarity and development” (QA 17). The Pope suggests that alternatives be sought for sustainable herding and agriculture, discovering sources of energy that don’t pollute and adopting “dignified means of employment that do not entail the destruction of the natural environment and of cultures” (QA 17).

The Church has and continues to play a vital role in defending the rights of the indigenous peoples (QA 18-19). However, the members of the Church like many others, sadly “have been a part of networks of corruption, at times to the point of agreeing to keep silent in exchange for economic assistance for ecclesial works” (QA 25).

The Pope dreams that “the Amazon region…be a place of social dialogue, especially between the various original peoples, for the sake of developing forms of fellowship and joint struggle” (QA 26). “Dialogue must not only favour the preferential option on behalf of the poor, the marginalized and the excluded, but also respect them as having a leading role to play” (QA 27). The Pope insists that all ‘others,’ that is, those without a direct interest in the issue, ought to be treated as ‘others’ and the opinions and ideas also treated as such so as to avoid the possibility of any concrete decision or plan being ‘a plan drawn up by the few for the few.’

II.                  A Cultural Dream: I dream of an Amazon region that can preserve its distinctive cultural riches, where the beauty of our humanity shines forth in so many varied ways. (QA 7)

The fundamental way in which the Amazon can maintain and enhance its rich cultural heritage is through education. The very purpose of education is “to cultivate without uprooting, to foster growth without weakening identity, to be supportive without being invasive” (QA 28). Since the Amazon region is host to many peoples and nationalities, besides over 110 different kinds of indigenous peoples, the treasure trove that is their culture is at a serious risk. First and foremost, they face the threat of ‘postmodern colonization’ and secondly, the classification as ‘uncivilized savages’ who ought to be ‘civilized’ by means of Western education (QA 29).

In the pre-colonial period, the majority of people lived on the shores of the rivers and lakes. Colonizers claimed these prime lands and drove the indigenous peoples inwards to the forests. Today, the desertification of inlands has forced many people to the ‘outskirts and sidewalks of the cities.’ “There they usually lack the points of reference and the cultural roots that provided them with an identity and a sense of dignity, and they swell the ranks of the outcast. This disrupts the cultural transmission of a wisdom that had been passed down for centuries from generation to generation” (QA 30).

Every human group has its distinctive lifestyle and worldview. “Fishers are not the same as hunters, and the gatherers of the interior are not the same as those who cultivate the flood lands… In each land and its features, God manifests himself and reflects something of his inexhaustible beauty. Each distinct group, then, in a vital synthesis with its surroundings, develops its own form of wisdom.” (QA 32). The ‘consumerist vision of human beings’ steamrolls over all cultural distinctions and unique characteristics thereby blurring out and “diminishing the immense variety which is the heritage of all humanity” (QA 33 quoting Laudato Si 144). This has a particularly devastating effect on young people because it causes them to lose touch with their cultural heritage and roots. In order to prevent this problem, the Pope points out the “need to care lovingly for our roots, since they are ‘a fixed point from which we can grow and meet new challenges’” (QA 33). For all Christians, in addition to their cultural roots, there is a need to additionally take charge of one’s faith roots which includes “the history of the people of Israel and the Church up to our own day. Knowledge of them can bring joy and, above all, a hope capable of inspiring noble and courageous actions” (QA 33).

The Pope appreciates all those who have stemmed the threat of losing out on cultural heritage by “writing down their stories and describing the meaning of their customs. In this way, they themselves can explicity acknowledge that they possess something more than an ethnic identity and that they are bearers of precious personal, family and collective memories” (QA 35).

Every culture has its own set of drawbacks. Western cultures dark side of consumerism, individualism, discrimination, inequality and many others are easily noticed by all. Similarly, Amazonian cultures also have their dark side. The Pope suggests that all of us bring our cultures to “the common table, a place of conversation and of shared hopes. In this way our differences, which could seem like a banner or a wall, can become a bridge. Identity and dialogue are not enemies. Our own cultural identity is strengthened and enriched as a result of dialogue with those unlike ourselves” (QA 37). If a culture closes up on itself it becomes “inward-looking and tries to perpetuate obsolete ways of living by rejecting any exchange or debate with regard to the truth about man” (QA 37). The responsibility of protecting, encouraging and nurturing cultures like with each of us. If we are not open to the idea of diverse cultures, how do we expect the people of the interiors to be?

The Pope points out how the globalized economy surreptitiously destroys our human, social and cultural riches. The invasive nature of mass communication drastically reduces the scope for cultural expression and alienates people from their native cultural contexts by introducing them into a digital culture that cares little for authentic cultural expression. For this reason it is absolute vital that cultures and their people be respected, and that they find a definition of ‘good life’ for themselves within the ‘world of symbols and customs’ proper to them rather than following an external definition with accompanying regulations for implantation and ideas for enhancement (QA 40).

III.                Ecological Dream: I dream of an Amazon region that can jealously preserve its overwhelming natural beauty and the superabundant life teeming in its rivers and forests. (QA 7)

The Amazonian culture is so closely and intimately connected with nature that “daily existence is always cosmic” (QA 41). While liberating people from various forms of bondage that entrap them is a way of caring for the environment and defending it, what is of greater importance is “helping the human heart to be open with trust to the God who not only has created all that exists, but has also given us himself in Jesus Christ. The Lord, who is the first to care for us, teaches us to care for our brothers and sisters and the environment which he daily gives us. This is the first ecology that we need” (QA 41). An ecology of nature has to coexist with a human and/or social ecology. The two are interdependent on nearly every level. This belief stems from the conviction that ‘everything is connected.’ (QA 41)

Care for people and care for the ecosystem cannot be separated. An abuse of nature amounts to an ‘abuse of our ancestors, of our brothers and sisters, of the creation and the Creator.’ The harm we do is not limited to the here and now but puts the future in serious jeopardy. Quoting from the Instrumentum Laboris of the Synod, “the land has blood, and it is bleeding; the multinationals have cut the veins of our mother Earth” (QA 42).

The Amazon is a land of water. “The rivers and streams are like veins and water determines every form of life” (QA 43). Water does not divide people by giving them liquid boundaries but rather unites them (QA 45).

The equilibrium of the planet depends in a big way on the health of the Amazon. A huge number of living beings and various climatic elements rely on the Amazon for their existence. The Amazon is a natural filter of Carbon Dioxide, it’s rich forest cover is not only home to numerous species but also contains “resources that could prove essential for curing diseases” (QA 48); the various products like fish and fruits enable humanity to sustain themselves.

When one considers environmental damage or destruction one usually evaluates it in terms of visible extinction but this is not the  correct way of doing this. “The good functioning of ecosystems also requires fungi, algae, worms, insects, reptiles and an innumerable variety of microorganisms” (LS 34). Unfortunately, their impact as well as the damage they incur in the name of ‘development’ is often and sadly, overlooked.

The Pope appreciates the commitment of international agencies and local bureaucracies who “draw public attention to these issues and offer critical cooperation, employing legitimate means of pressure, to ensure that eac government carries out its proper and inalienable responsibility to preserve its country’s environment and natural resources, without capitulating to spurious local and international interests” (LS 38).

The economically invested parties are never satisfied with the profits they make and are constantly on the search for new and innovative means to increase their balances. The Pope suggests that the whole world come together and ensure that there are some sort of clear boundaries that are put in place to protect ecosystems and that do not allow the wanton destruction of our common home in the name of development or profit. (QA 52) Thousands of species have already had the existence cut short due to a variety of reasons but mostly due to human interference. The Pope says it beautifully, “Because of us, thousands of species will no longer give glory to God by their very existence, nor convey their message to us. We have no such right” (QA 54) The Pope concludes that the Amazon region is a “theological locus, a space where God himself reveals himself and summons his sons and daughters” (QA 57).

In order to improve the situation and prevent further destruction, education has a massive role. “A sound and sustainable ecology, one capable of bringing about change, will not develop unless people are changed, unless they are encouraged to opt for another style of life, one less greedy and more serene, more respectful and less anxious, more fraternal” (QA 58).

IV.                An Ecclesial Dream: I dream of Christian communities capable of generous commitment, incarnate in the Amazon region, and giving the Church new faces with Amazonian features. (QA 7)

The Pope is very clear in his stating that all Christian interventions ought to be focused and centred on Christ. All that we do must in some way or another be an opportunity to incarnate the Gospel (QA 64-65). He is very strong in emphasizing that even our work of social upliftment and liberation ought to involve inviting the poor and abandoned to a friendship with the Lord (QA 63).

In order to preach the Gospel effectively, the Church must take on the identity and reality of the people to whom she desires to reach out. The Church brings to the dialogue of inculturation her own rich heritage of Christian wisdom and experience that has been handed down through the centuries (QA 66). Pope Saint John Paul II put it very beautifully when he addressed the Indigenous peoples of the American Continent (12 October 1992), “a faith that does not become culture is a faith not fully accepted, not fully reflected upon, not fully lived” (as quoted in QA 67). Thus the Church must undertake the double action of giving the Gospel and incarnating it in the culture while at the same time receiving from that culture ‘new aspects of revelation’ (QA 68).

For the Church to achieve a better inculturation in the Amazon, she must “listen to its ancestral wisdom, listen once more to the voice of its elders, recognize the values present in the way of life of the original communities, and recover the rich stories of its peoples” (QA 70). For the indigenous people the ‘good life’ is expressed in “personal, familial, communal and cosmic harmony…in a communitarian approach to existence, the ability to find joy and fulfilment in an austere and simple life, and a responsible care of nature that preserves resources for future generations” (QA 71). The Pope wants the Church assist the people in the process of ‘cultural retrieval,’ educate them, especially the urban population, against the dangers of consumerism and isolation and help urban communities to be missionary not only to those among them but to all the poor, marginalized and migrants (QA 72). For the Pope, these are all forms of inculturation and they elevate and fulfil ((QA 72-73).

Indigenous mysticism stresses “the interconnection and interdependence of the whole of creation;” it is a “mysticism of gratuitousness that loves life as a gift;” it is ultimately a “mysticism of a sacred wonder before nature and all its forms of life” (QA 73). For us Christians, it is Jesus Christ, the Son of God who connects all things and is present in and through them (QA 74).

Poverty is one of the defining features of the Amazon region. The Gospel shows a clear connection between evangelization and human advancement. Hence, all Christian communities ought to work for the justice of God’s kingdom that can be achieved through work for the advancement of those who are on the peripheries. The Church’s pastors have to be trained in this regard (QA 75). “In this way, we will reveal the true beauty of the Gospel, which fully humanizes, integrally dignifies persons and peoples, and brings fulfilment to every heart and the whole of life” (QA 76).

When this occurs we can look forward to “witnesses of holiness with an Amazonian face, not imitations of models imported from other places” (QA 77). The holiness of the Amazon will be “born of encounter and engagement, contemplation and service, receptive solitude and life in community, cheerful sobriety and the struggle for justice” (QA 77). This process has been initiated many years ago and the people can be considered to be ‘initially evangelized’ (QA 78).

The Pope opines that there is a possibility of adopting an indigenous symbol without it being considered idolatry. Local myths need not be discarded but possess the ability of appealing to people’s minds and becoming carriers of Christian truth. “A missionary of souls will try to discover the legitimate needs and concerns that seek an outlet in at times imperfect, partial or mistaken religious expressions, and will attempt to respond to them with an inculturated spirituality” (QA 79).

The process of inculturation can be initiated in a very powerful way through the sacraments, “since they unite the divine and the cosmic, grace and creation” (QA 81). The sacraments are unique in as much as they take up creation to God in the same instance as they bring out the Divine manifested in creation. The Sacraments communicate the mercy and healing of God and consequently ought never to be held from anyone who desires to receive them (QA 84). The Church needs to find ways and means of making the sacraments, especially the Holy Eucharist frequent and easily accessible even in the remotest and most isolated communities (QA 86). The role and concept of the priest requires to be revised in keeping with the situation of the place. The Pope defines a priest not as one who possesses power either of the material or spiritual kind but as one who is tasked with incarnating Christ in and through the celebration of the Eucharist and absolving people of their sins (QA 87-88).

The Pope envisions that Christian communities be full of life. This fullness of life can come about only if the community is first united. The Eucharist is a sacrament that “signifies and realizes the Church’s unity” (QA 91). Priests must foster communion in their Churches and not simply aim at achieving unity. Communion can be achieved when the diversity and variety of gifts and charisms that the Spirit pours out on the faithful is properly channelized and expressed. Priests alone, though they have a vital role, are not the only ones responsible and capable of this enormous task; permanent deacons, religious women and lay persons have their unique contributions to make. The Church has to develop an “ecclesial culture that is distinctly lay” (QA 94).

The Pope concludes this dream by mentioning the unforgettable and irreplaceable contribution made by women in the Amazon region. For decades the faith has been kept alive even without a priest thanks to women who “undoubtedly called and prompted by the Holy Spirit, baptized, catechized, prayed and acted as missionaries” (QA 99). The Pope warns the faithful against a reductionist mentality which believes that women can truly be granted a greater status and participation in the Church only if they are ordained priests. He warns that such thinking will serve no other purpose except to “clericalize women, diminish the great value of what they have already accomplished, and subtly make their indispensable contribution less effective” (QA 100). God in His infinite wisdom sought to reveal His power and love through two human faces: “the face of his divine Son made man and the face of a creature, a woman, Mary. Women make their contribution to the Church in a way that is properly theirs, by making present the tender strength of Mary, the Mother” (QA 101). Leaving aside the functional aspect of both genders, the Pope stresses the indispensability of women by stating that without them and their contribution “the Church breaks down” (QA 101). The history of many Amazonian communities is testament to this fact.  

[colesterstrudel]

The Last

Elias/OC: You keep running into a stranger in the middle of the night at the grocery store and they’re always reaching for the things you’re trying to get. The two of you settle it the best way you know how. Fluff

HELLO FRIENDS I have been working on this fic for mmmmmm ever but I finally finished it and I really like it a lot lmao. 

Tagging: @helplessly-nonstop @wrestlingfae @sporadic-fics @heeldeano 

Of course, it’s just your luck you ran out of your favorite cereal. Even better, you didn’t find out until 2 am in the middle of a Netflix binge. With a sigh, you grabbed your jacket, sliding it on before leaving your apartment. You gave yourself a mission, intent on getting to the nearest grocery store to pick up your cereal as fast as possible. If you focused, you could get there and back really quickly and not miss too much of the time you wanted to use to relax in front of your tv.

The grocery store was virtually empty when you entered, people obviously at home asleep. You should be doing the same, you chastised yourself as you peered up at the labels on the aisles, trying to find the cereal aisle. Staying up this late wasn’t incredibly healthy, and scarfing down a bowl of cereal at the time even less so. Still, if this was the way you wanted to relax for your first two-day stint off work for a while, then that’s how you’d do it, healthiness be damned.

Being so stuck in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed you’d made it to the cereal aisle before you ran into a solid wall of muscle.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going!” you rambled, looking up at the person you’d run into. The man in question looked nice, in a weird sort of way. Weird for you, that was, he definitely wasn’t your type, but with his hair pulled back in a bun and his beard, well, you could make an exception for him. Except that you couldn’t, you reminded yourself as you continued to stare at him, because he’s a stranger in a grocery store.

“No problem,” he assured you, voice low and even. The smile he graced you with had you blushing, and you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you stepped even further away from him before turning your attention to the shelves. It only took you a moment to scan the shelves before you saw the cereal you were after - the last box they had - and your hand shot out to grab it at the same time the man’s hand grabbed it.

Instinctively tightening your grip on the box, still sitting on the shelf, you turned to the man next to you. “What are you doing?” you asked him, tight smile on your face. All you wanted was to buy your cereal and go home, but it seemed like it was going to take a little longer than you originally thought.

“This is my favorite cereal,” he answered with a shrug, pulling the box closer to him.

“Honey Bunches of Oats is your favorite cereal?” Your eyes narrowed to slits as you stared at him in disbelief. There was no way he came here to buy your cereal.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, as if you were an idiot for not understanding. “And I ran out, so…”

“This is my box though,” you argued, attempting to tug the box closer to you. You didn’t move it far, the man’s grip tighter on the box than you thought. With one glance at his arm, you realized just why he was more in control of the box than you were. He obviously worked out a lot and was in great shape.

“But I wanted this one,” he said simply.

“There are other stores you could go to, ya know.” You refused to back down from this argument. You were going to buy this cereal and go home and make the most out of what was left of the night.

“Then why don’t you go to one?” The smirk on his face that accompanied his remark had your mind reeling. The two of you stared at each other for a while, neither wavering, until you came up with a solution.

“Thumb wrestling!” you nearly shouted, ignoring the look of confusion on the stranger’s face. “We’ll thumb wrestle for it.”

“Are you a child?” he argued, laughing at you.

“Do you want to leave this store any time soon?”

“You seriously want to thumb wrestle for this box of cereal?” It was obvious he didn’t believe you, didn’t think you would take this as seriously as you were.

“Yes, I do,” you replied, cocking an eyebrow at him. “So what’ll it be?”

With a sigh, the stranger nodded and put his basket down next to him before holding his hand out to you. You smiled at him, reaching out your own hand.

“Just so you know,” you began, concentrating on the movements of your thumb against his as the two of you began. “I’m a thumb wrestling champion.”

“Come on, there’s no - hey!” he yelled as you trapped his thumb underneath yours.

“Do you play by the three second or five second rule? Because either way,” you said as he desperately tried to escape your grip. “At this point, you lost.”

The stranger grumbled as he released your hand and his grip on the box of cereal. “How did you do that so quickly?”

“I told you, I’m a champ,” you said simply, turning on your heel and leaving the stranger alone in the cereal aisle, your prize in your hand.

For some reason, you always got sick way more easily than anyone else you knew. You blamed it on the fact that you had a delicate immune system, but your friends all say it’s because you stress too much. Either way, you found yourself huddled up in a blanket on your couch, crumpled up tissues surrounding you, a half empty bottle of cough syrup on the coffee table in front of you.

You hadn’t moved from your spot on the couch for hours. You didn’t plan to, either, except for the fact that all you wanted at the moment was some soup. Of course, your house was not stocked well enough for your current illness, a fact that you verified with one simple glance in your pantry.

With a sigh, you slid on the closest shoes you could find before shuffling out of your front door. All you needed was one can of soup, maybe some more tissues. It shouldn’t take too long to get those supplies, and then you could collapse right back on your couch and ride out the rest of your cold.

Thankfully, the grocery store nearest your apartment wasn’t too busy, just some families grabbing last minute ingredients for dinner. You grabbed one box of tissues before winding your way through the aisles to the soup. One hand was on the last can of chicken with stars, your favorite, when a stuffy voice interrupted you.

“Oh come on,” the voice huffed.

Turning on your heel, you saw the same stranger from weeks before. Tonight, however, his nose was red, his hair in an incredibly messy bun, and he had one tissue balled up in his hand.

“You can’t be here for this soup,” you said, unable to believe this was happening to you again.

“That’s my favorite soup,” he whined, inching closer to you.

“It’s my favorite soup,” you replied, tucking the can close to your chest. “And I’m sick.”

“I’m sick, too.” He held up the crumpled tissue in his hand as proof.

“Fine, we can thumb wrestle for it,” you shrugged, placing your goods down at your feet.

“No, we can’t. You’ll get my germs.”

For a second, you paused, feeling touched he was seemingly concerned that you would get his germs and not the other way around. But you were intent on getting this soup and getting back home. Your couch was calling to you, after all.

“I’ll be fine, come on,” you urged, holding your hand out.

“This is dumb,” he grumbled, holding his hand out nonetheless. Within seconds, his thumb entrapped yours and he held it there, triumphant smile on his face. “What happened to being thumb wrestling champ?” he asked, letting your hand go.

“I’m sick,” you whined, pouting up at him.

“I’ll just take my soup and go, now, please,” he smiled, holding his hand out towards you.

“If I die without my soup, I want you to know it’s all your fault.” You shoved the can of soup into his chest before grabbing the first random can of soup you saw on the shelf.

“For what it’s worth, I hope you don’t die!” he called after you as you stalked away from him.

You didn’t answer him, just threw your free hand over your shoulder and kept walking, scowl on your face.

Work was insufferable for you, your boss never gave you even a second to catch your breath. He was on your back constantly, and you were exhausted after dealing with him. All you wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and make too much pasta for one person to consume in one sitting. You had the next day off, so you figured you could make all that pasta, binge some Netflix, and have more pasta as a late night snack.

Until, that is, you were in the pasta aisle at the grocery store and saw the same mystery stranger from the cereal and souple debacle holding the last box of penne pasta.

“I don’t have the energy to thumb wrestle you for that,” you sighed, stepping up next to him.

He jumped a little, startled at the intrusion, before smiling at you. “We meet again.”

“I’ll pay you for the pasta, just please, let me get it so I can go home and relax.” You completely skipped the pleasantries, propping your hand on your hip.

“You know, all these times we’ve run into each other and I still haven’t introduced myself. I’m Elias.”

“Oh, well, um. It’s nice to formally meet you, I guess,” you replied, telling him your name as well.

“And since you don’t have the energy to thumb wrestle me for this pasta, why don’t you let me get it? You go home, get out of that work uniform, and come over to my place. Let me make you dinner.” Elias’s offer hung in the air between the two of you, your mouth open in shock.

“I - no, I can’t let you do that,” you insisted, taking a step back.

“It’s the least I can do, especially since I left you sick and without your favorite soup last month. And anyway, we keep finding ourselves in this position. Don’t you think it’s fate?” Elias asked, eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Do you really think this is fate?”

“I think it’s worth exploring,” he answered easily, holding his phone out to you. You took it from his hands gingerly, programming your number in before handing it back to him. After a moment, your phone vibrated in your pocket. “I just sent you my address. I’ll see you in an hour, okay?”

“Fate, huh?” you asked, walking to the end of the aisle with him.

“That or Cupid has been hard at work for the past couple of months,” Elias said with a wink before turning to the checkout lanes. “See you soon!”

“I just want you to know that this better put an end to you always trying to get the last item I want in the store,” you warned when Elias opened his door.

It had taken you a while to even decide if you would show up at his apartment. But he did offer you free food, and he seemed sincere. So here you were, in front of his door, casually dressed.

“I’ll try my best,” he assured you, ushering you into his apartment. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

You just nodded at him as you took in his living room. It was clean and organized without looking too sterile. There were books stacked on the coffee table and a guitar in the far corner in a stand.

“You play?” you asked, walking towards the guitar.

“I can show you after dinner?” Elias offered, standing in the entryway, hands in his pockets. His hair was in the bun you were used to seeing him in, a floral kimono on over a plain white tee shirt.

“As long as you’re not awful at it,” you joked, smiling at him.

“I’ve been told I’m not too bad. I’ve got a few fans,” he told you, returning your smile.

“So, what, you’re a musician?”

Elias opened his mouth to respond when a timer went off in the distance. “Come on, that’s the kitchen timer. I’ll tell you over dinner.”

“Just so you’re aware,” you began, trailing after Elias. “I decided to duck out of my original plans to be here.” You took a seat where he pointed, settling into your chair. “I’m sure my Netflix account will miss me.”

“You can just let it know you had better company tonight,” Elias winked, placing a plate of pasta coated in tomato sauce in front of you. Another plate of garlic bread was placed in the middle of the table as Elias sat across from you.

“The company of a mysterious stranger who was dedicated to taking the last of every item I needed,” you laughed, eyes focused on the man across from you.

“It didn’t turn out too bad,” he replied, smile on his face as he watched you settle in and get comfortable.

“Not too bad at all.”

Hours later, dinner was over and the two of you had gone to Elias’ living room and settled onto his couch. You two had talked all through dinner, getting to know one another and you were amazed at how comfortable you were around him, how nice he really seemed. He grabbed his guitar and was showing off to you as promised, playing melodies you recognized and some you didn’t. You couldn’t help but become enthralled by his presence, how at ease he looked with his guitar in his hand, focusing on the strings. Before you knew it, it was midnight and the two of you were still chatting over the light background noise of his guitar playing.

“Oh, I have to go,” you sighed, reluctantly standing up from your spot on his couch. You weren’t sure you really wanted to leave, not with how relaxed you felt around Elias, but you knew you definitely needed to get some sleep.

“Thanks for coming over,” Elias said, walking you to the door.

You blushed before answering, stopping just in front of his door. “Thanks for feeding me.”

“Any time.” His voice was serious but his eyes were soft, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m serious. I’ll let you know when I get back in town this week and we can hang out, okay?”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, turning back to the door and moving to stand in his hallway. Before you could stop yourself, you were on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. And then you were gone, leaving Elias with a stunned smile on his face. You couldn’t wait until the next time the two of you could get together. Not if it was going to be anything like this.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Leonardo da Vinci

@romanianbrotherhood    Since you wanted to be tagged~ ;)

As it was expected of all noble women in Italy's Renaissance era, they had to learn only how to be the perfect wives for their future husbands, chosen only to make strong allegiances between families, and create heirs to ensure the continuation of the renowned name. For the Templars especially that had to be ensured, in order to strengthen their numbers, overthrow any Assassin ruling and conquer the world, political-wise. That may have been the reason for the tremendous shock the Riario family had when their daughter, instead of behaving like a proper lady, kept exhibiting lack of manners and a love for the barbaric since very young.

How were they supposed to wed such an untamed soul? Who would be willing to take care of such an unruly child, if even her parents couldn't stop her from misbehaving?

Wearing breeches instead of dresses and a using a sword instead of a needle, she grew up to the ripe age of womanhood, and yet, her wildness only seemed to increase. Many suitors came to court her, yet they were all turned down before they could even introduce themselves, using a petty excuse at all times. That is, until her parents grew fed up, and at her mother's request, her father was to escort her to the house of the great painter da Vinci, known for his love of art and soft attitude, from which she should be able to learn. The plan was to let her there until she learns how to properly behave like a woman should, so they could finally give her off to some noble Templar. Clearly, she refused anything proposed by her parents, but with a slap on her face, she begrudgingly accepted the silly feat, letting her maid pack up whatever comfortable clothes she had and followed her father into the carriage, to the artist's home. He knocked on the door firmly, her hiding behind him, looking away and scoffing, until someone finally answered the call.

-?-: Buongiorno, Messer Riario! How may I help you today? Dad: Good day to you as well, Messer da Vinci. I have come with a little request, if you would. Leo: Si, signor, I am listening. Dad: My daughter, Y/N, is such an untamed spirit, unsuitable for marriage. My wife and I wondered if you could take her in as an apprentice or protegée and somehow make her cease her barbaric behaviour, we'd be eternally grateful. We will pay you as much as you need, weekly, only accept. Leo: I...Messer, that is a rather peculiar request...Although I suppose something like this wouldn't hurt anyone. Dad: Grazie mille di cuore, Messer da Vinci! You have my eternal gratitude! Leo: No need for such words, I'd be happy to help. Now, where is la bella signorina? Dad: She's right here, hiding behind me. Won't you greet this lovely man? Where are your manners, dear? Y/N: Um...Ciao. Dad: How dull of you. Can't you put a little more enthusiasm in it? That's why all those nice men rejected you. Y/N: Technically speaking, I rejected them. Dad: You're going to ruin your life if you continue like this. Nobody is going to wed you! Y/N: Oh, and what a pity. You know, there are other, more important things in life. Other than children bearing or marriage. Knowledge, for example. You wouldn't know, however, since you lack any sort of outer vision. Leo: Va bene, Messer, let's get her inside to settle down! I'm a busy man, I cannot linger much longer! Dad: Very well. Here is the payment for this month. Y/N, please behave. Y/N: Ci vediamo, padre.   (See you later)

One of Leonardo's apprentices carried her luggage to the spare room where she'll be staying. She sat on the bed, looking outside the window at the bright ray of light protruding her room, thinking of potential scenarios of her future. Leonardo was a famous artist with peculiar interests and even his speech seemed to betray a small speck of quirkiness, but somehow, he seemed to be rather...welcoming? In all reality though...Was it really such a horrible decision to learn how to defend herself? She wouldn't possibly want to become a damsel in distress or anything of the sort. And besides, training was enjoyable and relaxing, so why should she have stopped?

On the ground, on the nightstand, on the table there seemed to be sprawled papers and scribbled notebooks thrown in a rather messy manner. Picking them up one by one, she inspected each sketch, taking in every small, insignificant detail. She has never seen any of his famous works and seeing these scribbles now, she could see the life in them and the passion for learning and the unknown. She realised he, too, was one captivated by everything that seemed to terrify the mundane, and for that, she was grateful.

A knock on the door startled her, making her jolt up, looking at the intruder with the eyes of a frightened fawn, but soon relaxed under the calm, gentle gaze of her host, who seemed a tad spazzic.

Y/N: Uh...Ciao. Leo: Mi dispiace, signorina. I came to check on you and to... Oh, I see you've already discovered my discarded works. Y/N: They are beautiful...Why did you throw them away? Forgotten here, like the time? Leo: There's always room for improvement. Truth be told, I was rather unhappy with how they turned out, yet had not the heart to completely burn them. Y/N: May I...Keep them? They are rather inspiring. Leo: If my work can inspire someone with such a burning thirst for knowledge, then who am I to refuse your sincere request? Y/N: Grazie, Messer. Leo: Please, no need for these silly courtesies. Y/N: Suit yourself then, Leo. What are these, then? Leo: Ah, I see you stumbled upon my anatomical sketches. The hospital brings me bodies to study, hoping to help understand ourselves better and yet... Y/N: You'd need someone alive, huh? These drawings seem highly vivid though. I believe some imagination was required as well. Leo: There is only so much I can learn from living until they get creeped out. Y/N: *smirks* And what if I volunteer to be of any aid~? Would you paint me like one of your Italian girls? Leo: Would you allow me to? I suppose you know what that means, but- Y/N: Earn it and maybe I will slooowly allow you to peak and sketch a bit. Leo: You won't be disappointed!

And so, every week, the girl would allow her new friend to paint her, yet only the way she wanted, like reading lazily on the sofa, laying like a princess, or in the gardens, by the Spring flowers. Her beauty was ethereal, now that it was no longer hidden by a continuous burning rage and for Leonardo, it was definitely an angelic sight he loved to paint. And despite all his professionalism and the fact that he was truly dedicated and married to his work... He found himself wanting to paint her, not only for research purposes, but for something much more incredible and pure.

Despite all of her brash, 'barbaric' reflexes and the weird feeling of not having a weapon around her, she moved as graceful as a swan and her delicate touch would teleport him in other dimensions.

A fortnight later, the two grew more and more accustomed to each other, getting close and rather friendly, sometimes going out together to enjoy a fancy meal or see the beauty of the gardens, at night.

Nevertheless, as they were having a light conversation about the reason birds could fly, they were surprised by the door opening and a young boy in typical assassin garments, looking rather crestfallen yet pleased to see the blond man in front of him.

Y/N: One would say doors were invented for people to announce their arrival by knocking on them. Leo: Ah, there's really no problem, dear Y/N! This is Ezio Auditore, my friend. He's always welcomed here! Y/N: Thanks for the fun fact. I see you're friends with assassins. Wise choice, but rather risky. Ezio: You speak as though you are knowledgeable in the subject, signorina. Y/N: Of course I am. My father is a filthy Templar and I'm expected to be the same. Ezio: Templar...? Y/N: Ah, you don't even know your heritage, do you? Never you mind, learn more and perhaps I will tell you a story once you grow a bit older. Ezio: I'm pretty sure I'm older than you. Y/N: *grins* You'd be surprised, kiddo. Okay, Leo, he has my approval. Now, what is it that you want from us? Ezio: I was thinking you could repair something of mine. Leo: Ah, yes, of course!

As soon as Ezio put the pieces on the work table, Leonardo went full awestruck mode, saying how fascinating it looked and yet, got soon slightly disappointed that he didn't have the object's blueprints. Raising her eyebrow in confusion, the girl pointed to the scroll underneath the pieces, saying it might withhold crucial information about the alien technology. Gasping in surprise, he quickly started deciphering the code, shushing the poor Auditore and making him sit on the armchair until he was done with the repairing. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but seeing her new friend so entrapped in the spell of creation and learning got her to watch him more closely, her heart leaping with emotion at his enthusiasm. His fingers were working with such dexterity and ease as if he's merely sketching a tree and not repairing an ancient object with an even more difficult codex to read.

Poor kid already fell asleep soon after having sat in that armchair, yet it took Leo less than expected to fully repair what looked like a weapon bracer, possibly the assassins' legacy weapon and it seems like he also perfected it. Highly giddy, he woke Ezio up and told him about the requirements of using that blade...yet something seemed way off. There, in his gorgeous eyes, was an amused glint, sparkling with mischief as he saw the boy preparing his finger to be cut off with a cleaver. Much was his mirthful laughter when he just slammed the blade on the desk, near his finger, seeing his confused expression.

Not long after he explained the truth about the weapon, did another knock on the door disturb the peace. Clearly pissed off, the girl stormed to open it brashly, glaring at the guard in front of her.

Y/N: Now, what is it that you want? Don't you know it's rather rude to almost break that the door?! Guard: Uh...Are you Leonardo da Vinci? Y/N: Do I look like a Leonardo to you?! No, of course it's not me, dimwit! Now leave already! You're depriving me of my peace! Guard: Then, is it his residence? I don't have all day to waste with a wench like you, I am a busy man! Y/N: Oh, well what a shame it is! What is it your business with Messer da Vinci? Guard: It is strictly between I and him. Now run along! Leo: It's okay, Y/N, I can handle this. I am Leonardo da Vinci. How may I be of service? Guard: I need you to answer some questions. Leo: Certainly. Y/N: Outside, if you will? I do not want you polluting the air in our house with your filthy tongue. Guard: Next time you open your mouth, you will pay. Leo: Now, now, there's no need for violence. Guard: A witness saw you consorting with an enemy of the city. Leo: What? Me? Preposterous! Guard: When was the last time you saw or spoke to Ezio Auditore? Leo: Who? Guard: Don't play dumb! We know you were close to the Auditores! Perhaps this will help you clear your head- Y/N: I beg to differ.

Seeing the guard try to push Leonardo and bully him, Y/N got angry and punched him hard in the jaw taunting him. Clearly, he wasn't too good of a fighter either, since he seemed wobbly, so she took it to her advantage, took out the dagger from her sleeve, and twirling it around, lashed out at him, slashing his throat in one swift move. She looked at his shocked and pained expression as he fell, with a smug grin on her face, wiping the blood from her blade with her fingers.

Y/N: Perhaps being such a barbarian isn't a bad thing...Don't you think, dear friend? Leo: I surely can't deny that. Ezio: What happened here? Y/N: Ah, kiddo, you missed all the fun. What a pity. Ezio: You...?! Ah, nevermind, what do we do with the body? Leo: Just get it inside with the others. Ezio: The others?! Y/N: Well, of course. He's a scientist, you know? The city benefits from his knowledge. Leo: *shrugs shyly* Guess so. Ezio: *smiles* Bellissimo.

Many years passed, Ezio Auditore came to visit us quite often, offering a new Codex page with each arrival, always happy to see Leo's enthusiasm and hugging him.

As well as that, we had to move to Venice once and then to Rome, fearing for the boy's life, however, since he was framed so many times.

That is, until one day in Rome where we were working on commissions and works (where even I could help him despite only having painted for as long as we've been together), and Messer Auditore surprised us with a new acquisition. Unfortunately, we couldn't do much without Salai, the new apprentice, since he was away...again.

The bad part of this whole ordeal was that just as Ezio left us, a bunch of Guards got us out of the workshop, for a 'peaceful interrogation'. They started talking aggressively to Leonardo, which didn't do well with me in the slightest, and I went in front of him, standing in a fighting stance.

Y/N: Leonardo, run away while I keep them occupied. Leo: Cosa?! I cannot leave you behind! Y/N: D'you really think they'd be stupid enough to kill the daughter of the great Templar Riario? Leo: You cannot defend yourself, Y/N! Y/N: Now, that's where you are wrong, love.

Smirking, she easily ripped off the bottom half of her skirt,revealing her sword strapped to her leg on a holder, which she swiftly took out, pointing it at the enemies.

Y/N: I am Y/N Riario, daughter of a wealthy Templar and you, scums, better run away for I am done playing marionette for all his ridiculous schemes. Leonardo, I'm telling you only once to run away before I start killing off these roaches. Leo: I'm staying! Y/N: Suit yourself. Vittoria agli Assassini!

With that, she lashed out at the many enemies in front of her, slashing left and right with an unimaginable elegance and grace, her moves seemingly like ballet on a grand stage, being splattered with ruby droplets of blood from the ones attacking her and the person she came to have feelings for. She let her rage transform into focus and discipline, taunting the uneducated guards and making them lose their attention, as she easily severed heads and limbs. Nonetheless, her focus was broken once she heard a shrill scream from behind, which upon further inspection, was Leonardo running away, just as he was told. 'Good' she thought, as she continued fighting those bastards who thought defiling her home would be a good idea.

However, she was soon overwhelmed, since her father's army took over the place and captured her. Her interrogation wasn't easy, especially after admitting to side with the assassins. It seemed like an eternity, which couldn't have even been more than 2-3 days, until she was finally moved to what seemed like a temple, where to her horror, she saw Leonardo on the ground, his hands bound behind his back, and clearly beaten up, just like her.

Y/N: You...You monster! What has he done to you?! Nothing! He's innocent! Dad: No, he's not! He works for those filthy assassins! Y/N: Then kill me, instead! I killed your stupid Templars, not him! Dad: Silly little Y/N...Didn't I tell you I need you? Of course, only for some ties to be knotted together, but still, a very important role. Y/N: To hell with it! I'd rather burn in the deepest pits of Hell than help you or get married to some scum like that! Dad: Anyone can be subdued with just a little bit of persuasion...Quite like this.

With that, he kicked Leonardo's belly once again, earning a gasp of pain from the latter, and a protest from the girl. Protest, which was answered with a guard grabbing her hair tightly and pushing her to the ground.

Y/N: Tu, figlio di puttana bastardo! Tu, cane! Mostro! Bestia! I will kill you! Dad: I'd like to see you try, figlia.    (daughter)

With angry tears flooding her eyes, she took the dagger hidden in her sleeve, cut off her hair in a swift move, then got up as fast as lightning, cut the guard's throat and stole his sword.

Y/N: You and me, padre! Let us fight to death, if you're as brave and righteous as you say you are and we shall see on which side your God is! Dad: What a stubborn, ungrateful daughter I have raised! I should have had a son, not such a putana like you! Y/N: You wanted a son, and a son you got! Just, not in the body you wished for.

They fought as well as any soldier did, her father being if not, only slightly impressed by her sparring skills and the fact that, despite her injuries, she still held herself well against someone as big and built as he was. What he didn't know, was that agility and speed were her allies, and as she twirled to his side, she managed to thrust the blade into his throat. Blood gushed like a fountain from the wound and he fell to the ground gasping like a fish on the land, which made her smirk in satisfaction.

"And you were wondering why I wanted to fight...Now you know. Revenge is best served by your own hand."

With that, she kicked his body off the platform they were staying at and got her dagger to cut the rope from Leonardo's wrists, hugging him tightly.

Y/N: I'm so sorry you had to be brought up into this mess I created! Leo: Ah...I should have seen it coming. It wasn't your fault, dear, it was my own. Y/N: *sighs* I...I just...I don't know what to say anymore... -?-: You can start by kissing him? Y/N: Ezio?! Cosa diavolo stai facendo qui?! (What the hell are you doing here?) Ezio: *chuckles* Salini helped me get here. Leo: See, Y/N? He's not as useless as you thought he was. Ezio: Couldn't have agreed more. Y/N: Fine, fine, you might be right, whatever. Ezio: You have beautiful swordsmanship. I applaud you, bella. Y/N: *grins* Grazie, bambino. Ezio: *narrows his eyes* I still think I'm older than you. Y/N: Who cares? And besides, what got you here? You wanted to rescue poor, little us? Ezio: *shrugs* I think you had everything under control. However, this temple... Leo: Holds many secrets! Let's go and find them out! Y/N: Need I remind you you're incredibly hurt? Leo: Don't argue with me, you know I'm stubborn when it comes to things like this. Y/N: *eye twitch* Yes, I think I noticed that, when you just wouldn't run away when I told you so. Leo: *laughs sheepishly* Mi dispiace. Ezio: *sighs* Just kiss already. Y/N: What, and let you see it? No way, dream on! Vaffanculo, Auditore! Ezio: *laughs* Ah, you'd be perfect together. Leo: Ezio...

Grinning, Ezio patted his friend's back, who was hiding his face in his hands, shy and embarrassed. It took a while to get through the temple and even that proved to be rather disappointing, but at least back at out cozy home, we could finally mend our wounds and take care of each other. She sat on the edge of the bed, already in her loose, slightly translucent nightgown, lost in her thoughts, looking at the dark sky full of stars through the window, the multitude of candles lighting the room dimly. So lost in her own mind she was, that she didn't hear the door opening softly and Leonardo coming in. He walked slowly to the other edge of the bed, looking at her fair, slightly tanned skin that seemed to be plastered with purple-ish bruises and pink-ish lines like a spider's web spread across her whole back, which made the man's heart sink with sorrow. Clearly, he was an artist, a man of science and knowledge, not a fighter, and yet, a part of him cursed his soft nature for allowing the one he loves the most to protect him, and in turn, get hurt, permanent marks on her flawless skin kissed by the Sun's rays.

He didn't even realise his own actions until he moved her now significantly shorter ebony hair from her shoulders, revealing her bare skin and gingerly tracing down the small sleeves of the dress. She looked past he shoulder shyly, already knowing it was him, and smiled so beautifully that it took his breathe-away.

Y/N: Ah, mi dispiace, Leonardo. I suppose I won't be able to let you paint me any time soon. Leo: No, I...I should be the one to apologise for letting this happen to you. Y/N: Don't be silly. I was expecting that to happen sooner or later. And besides, I got my revenge, so I'm rather happy about that. Leo: But your beautiful skin...You had to suffer so much... Y/N: And so did, right? It's fine. It's all over now. We can finally live in peace and enjoy a life of art and research. Isn't that what we wanted? Leo: It is...And yet... Y/N: What is bothering you so, my dear? Leo: I...Think there's something wrong with me. Everytime I see you...I get this weird feeling in my chest end... Y/N: *grins* Do you remember what Ezio said today? Leo: Which part? Y/N: This part-

Tracing his face with her hand, she leaned slightly backwards so she could tenderly plant a soft kiss on his lips, still smiling at his forming blush. It seemed like fire ignited between them and a spark of courage surged through his veins, for as he looked in surprise and wonder at the girl in front of him, he embraced her tightly, kissing her again with just as much passion, finally understanding the peculiar feelings that kept bothering him for so long. It was a fiery love for the person in front of him, the strong yet fragile woman standing in front of him, her eyes big and gentle like those of a doe and a voice as sweet as an angel's (when she wasn't murdering someone).

He loved how trapped she would be in her own fictional world while reading a book or staring into nothingness and just thinking. He loved how perfectly well she'd blend among those colourful flowers in the garden, surrounded by the mesmerising perfume. He loved how happy she'd look when she'd watch him work or sketch something, explaining it to her. He love how she'd help him out with brilliant ideas everytime he got stuck on a piece of work.

And what he loved the most about her... ...Was the fact that she, too, loved him just as much as he loved her- And she never ceased to show him every day.

Y/N: So, Leonardo, amore, did you say once that you wanted to paint me like one of your Italian girl~? How about you get your charcoal and paints, I'm sure you'll be needing them for quite a while~. Leo: Si, certo, and yet, I think spending the nights with you, instead of my work, would be much better. Y/N: I couldn't agree more, mi tesoro~.  (My treasure) Leo: Ah, cuore mio, tu sei la luce dei miei occhi. (My heart, you are the light of my eyes) Y/N: E tu sei mi vita, per sempre.  (And you are my life, forever)