#whether he’s worshipped or despised he wants to be important

[blasphemousclaw]

ok jokes aside… I’ve said this before but like the whole design of Volcano Manor is soooo symbolic of who Rykard is as a character… when you enter the manor through the front door, it’s grand and lavishly decorated and well maintained:

but behind curtain it’s an absolute horror — sinister serpent-creatures, gruesome torture devices and cages, half-dead victims, piles of corpses.

During the Shattering Rykard built up this persona as a “worthy sovereign,” someone who dared to stand up to an unjust order and to do the unthinkable in order to fight for a new world, someone whose ideals inspired his followers to fight for him. Then, he seemingly threw all these ideals away when he fed himself to the serpent god, descending into “mere greed” for power… but I don’t think Rykard ever really changed, I think his true motivations were always for the sake of power. It’s why he enforced the law of the Erdtree so brutally and turned his cloak so readily; I think he enjoys the feeling of exercising his power over others and despises being treated like a servant. His transformation into a grotesque monstrosity that is greed personified is just the natural conclusion of his greatest flaws.

Though Rykard during the Shattering and Tanith during the present day present their goals as noble despite their blasphemous nature, in reality, they are violent and grotesque… it matches our view of Volcano Manor as an initially noble and impressive estate that grows more and more sinister as we explore beyond the walls of the main hall. The way the setting is designed perfectly matches the character that looms at the heart of it... and that’s why I think it makes perfect sense for Rykard to have himself crafted both the manor’s noble facade and the horrors “behind the curtain.”

[atlaswav]

CATACLYSMIC ☾

INFO: 5252 words..... dr ratio x fem! reader SYNOPSIS: You hate him, of that you're certain. You hate the man behind the alabaster figurehead, and you want to see him unravelled, but you don't know exactly what you do to him. WARNINGS: um alcohol and one kiss. also some swearing but mostly fine AUTHOR'S NOTE: rising from the grave to bring to you this thing i found this in my drafts from who knows how long when I was obsessed with this man (still am). someone help. i can no longer write this much for one fic. what was i on.

Veritas Ratio made it no secret that he despised those who lived in ignorance. He openly shunned those who were stupid enough to turn their eyes from knowledge – they’d be beggars in due time. They didn’t know how the world was governed, and ignorant fools would play victim to fate’s cruel touch.

With this philosophy of his, you often wondered whether or not his ivory figurehead would soon burst with the tumultuous storm of the man’s self importance. You wondered what would lie underneath. Surely, the divine makers would’ve allowed balance in his creation – surely, his face was horribly disfigured in exchange for such otherworldly intelligence. 

He was both delightfully astute and horrendously ill mannered at once. Brighter than your entire class combined – your entire university combined, no doubt – but his pretentiousness was overflowing, and you believed he was in dire need of being put in his place.

Arrogant and pretentious were two of the words that came to mind when someone mentioned Dr. Ratio, and you were sure you weren’t the only one who refused to worship his word like the gospel. In turn, he seemed to despise your very existence, as if you were merely a faded annotation in the footnotes of an ancient epic. Vandalising a work of art. A moustache on the Mona Lisa. Circe in the Odyssey, if she’d welcomed sailors with open arms, allowing them to degrade her as they would a common concubine, not a descendant of the gods.

Yet instead of sharing the witch’s beguiling, seductive nature, you only shared her mortal voice. Thin, reedy, quiet, compared to the booming voices of gods. The voice of Veritas Ratio. Your achievements could only pale in comparison to his, and it took everything within you to clap politely as he received his third – fourth? (you weren’t intent on keeping track) – diploma.

God you hated that man. You’d muttered as much under your breath countless times.

“Dr. Ratio is fine. No need to worship me.” he’d once corrected. But the attempt at humour was lost on you as your classmates began to laugh. The divine makers likely brought him into existence just to spite you. Oftentimes, you fought your urges to hurl the nearest textbook at his caricature head and watch the plaster crack, fall to the floor, and reveal his disfigured face. 

Not that you’d seen it before – lingered around him enough to see it disappear.

His scorn held no favourites, and certainly not when it came to you. He’d openly dragged your work through the dirt a couple of times before, and it was only a matter of time before he did it again. His words were scalding, leaving burns across your thin skin and leaving your mouth tasting of ash. Your voice, faint and human, fell quiet at his ‘gospel’. 

If it weren’t obvious, the hatred was mutual. He’d never admit it outright – he was far beyond these meaningless, trivial things such as immature hatred – but you felt his scathing glare in your soul, even through that perturbing headpiece, and that was enough. 

“Have you found it?” 

You turn around, meeting the cold, blank, unseeing gaze of his caricature head behind you. It was disconcerting to say the very least, but no one else had asked him about it, so you never pushed him further. None wanted to invoke his wrath, no matter what circumstance. It was a miracle neither of you had exploded at each other yet, but you suspected that he’d gladly put aside any type of loathing he harboured for you so that this project would get done faster. 

You were happy to oblige as he took the lead. A free credit was a free credit. But you did have your limits.

“Nope. The text is ancient. I doubt this library has it.”

“Nonsense.” he clicked his tongue, glancing to the side. “I’m asking the professor. Go work on your part.”

Patience is a virtue, as you keep reminding yourself. 

“Sure. Let me know if you find anything.” you say instead of the retort that sits on your tongue. False niceties and biting, underhanded remarks. This charade was entertaining, at the very least.

How did everyone love him? There had to be people like you who shared your dislike towards that conceited scholar. With a long suffering groan, you took a seat at one of the plethora of tables in the university’s library, clicked your pen and began to write. 

Maybe the reason he despised you so was because of your ideas, arguably the opposite of his own way of thinking. Where his twisted logic, rearranged rationality and pulled apart natural reasoning to formulate new material, you cut and stitched the work of others together to create your own emulations. (Frankenstein's monster. Was that a cliche? For Ratio, it probably was.)

He’d likely scrap what you’d written as soon as he returned, but that didn’t stop you from trying to spite him anyway. You hoped your readings wouldn’t go to waste as you recorded your findings, then started to draft an outline for your project. 

The scratch of paper became white nose, your hand struggling to keep up with the pace of your mind – was it even worth it? He’d likely call it worthless, snatch it from you and throw it into the recycling bin, then start writing his own outline. It only angered you further as you frowned at the page, wondering how he’d approach the project. 

The thump of a heavy tome on the wooden desk snapped you out of your sombre thoughts. 

“Here.” Ratio took a seat at the chair opposite of yours, brushing the dust off the thick text, leafing through its yellowed pages. “I told you they’d have it. You just need to search better.”

You offer him a tight smile. “Noted.” More false niceties, more flat remarks.

Then the figurehead disappears in a blink, and you nearly drop your pen. He barely pays you any mind as he runs a hand through his hair, flipping through the text. You’d heard the rumours of the handsome face beneath the statue, but you’d never have imagined him to be so disgustingly perfect. 

Statuesque. 

His deep violet locks looked unbelievably soft. His crimson eyes showed laser focus as he scanned the text in front of him, ignoring you completely as he noted something down. After a brief silence where you skim over your outline and he presumably attempts to decipher the undeniably unreadable and ancient text which you were opposed to reading in the first place, he turns to you with a sigh. “What did you do while I was gone?”

“I wrote an outline.” you hand the papers to him begrudgingly, fidgeting with the pen in your hand. You don’t meet his gaze, afraid that his calculating gaze might see too far into your soul. 

“This?” his distaste seeps through his tone. You don’t need to look at his face to know that he’s frowning. 

You say nothing as he skims through your work, twirling your pen between your fingers.

“...It’s not the worst thing I've ever read.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. 

“It’s not good, either.”

You scowl at him. 

“I can salvage it.” he nonchalantly throws it back onto the table, returning to the text at hand. 

You want to shove his grotesquely perfect face into the book. He really was put on this earth to spite you.

“Don’t just sit there. Go look for texts on criticism of our stance.”

You don’t know how you’re going to find the patience to survive this project. If anything, it irked you further to find that there wasn’t some monstrosity hidden behind that figurehead. In everything he did, he seemed to be inventing new ways to get on your nerves. However, unbeknownst to you, Veritas Ratio held you higher than you gave yourself credit for. He believed your ideas to be invigorating. Refreshing, almost. A welcome reprieve from the same reiterated, chewed, swallowed and regurgitated approaches that your other classmates had. 

You weren’t like the rest of the mindless, studying machines at the university. You could be brilliant, and it annoyed him that you didn’t know this. He’d admitted as much to himself before, but he’d never tell you. But it was still not good enough for his standards – far better than what the imbeciles in your class could’ve come up with – but still far behind him. Or so he kept telling himself. 

Days passed by without a word from either of you. You were content to write your part in the solitude of your dorm, and he seemed perfectly content mulling over whatever he’d found in that indecipherable ancient text. By the time you’d nearly finished your part, he decided to meet with you once again to share your findings. 

His definition of deciding to meet with you meant simply cornering you after class and asking you to follow him. 

You started to protest, but he’d already turned and briskly walked out of the classroom, so you groaned and followed after him, winding up in the library again. This time, in a secluded corner with the late afternoon sun pouring through the window, illuminating the small table and workspace with a warm glow. 

You wondered how he wasn’t winded after trekking across the entire campus. You certainly were. His muscled build suggested that a mere leisurely walk couldn’t possibly have tired him out. What did he eat? Was he what Nietzsche had in mind when he wrote of the Superman? 

“What are you doing? Sit.” he gestures to the seat across from him, and you sink into the armchair, taking out your papers. His headpiece disappears once again, and your breath catches in your throat. 

His hair cast a faint shadow across his face, and his eyes seemed to glow. As you leaned in closer, you realised there was a thin ring of gold around his pupils. 

“Are you done with your part?” he demands, breaking you out of your trance. 

You silently hand over your drafts, watching his eyes flit across your paper. His eyebrows furrow slightly, eyes narrowing, but he remains quiet. Were his eyelashes always this long? They created an indistinct shadow on his cheeks. His skin was pale, fair. Not the sickly kind of pale you thought he’d be. Did he exercise? You wouldn’t be surprised, with all your classmates always fawning over his broad, strong chest and narrower waist. 

Was it your imagination, or were his cheeks slightly flushed? It might have been the light. 

“It’s deplorable.”

Your heart sinks in your chest as you sit back against the armchair. 

“Your ideas are rudimentary. Have you been reading at all?” he sighs, holding his head in his hand. “No matter. I can fix it. I don’t need you to do anything anymore. You can go.”

You stay seated in shock, unable to move. You’ve heard the anecdotes of people crying over being scolded by him, but was he always this harsh? 

“You know it’s a group project, right?” you begin before your better judgement can decide against it, “My work is just as important as yours, it doesn’t matter if you think my work is ‘deplorable’. I’m in the same class, I take the same course, I learn the same things as you do, you don’t get to look down on me no matter how stupidly smart you are.”

He raises an eyebrow, unamused. “Why not?”

“Take that stick out of your ass, Veritas Ratio. Get off your high horse.” you snatch your papers out of his hands and take your leave, ignoring his calls of your name. 

Were you dramatic? Yes, but not without reason. Given Ratio’s reputation for prioritising academics over everything else, you suspected that it wouldn’t take long for him to find you, either. 

You were so wrong. 

More days passed with no contact. He didn’t seem to be affected by your dramatics, and never once batted an eye in your direction unless necessary. It seemed your hypothesis of him inventing new ways to get on your nerves was on the track of being proved correct. But if you didn’t do something within the next few days, you trusted him to turn in the project without your name on the paper, resulting in a zero. 

He was just as stubborn as you, and though you were nothing compared to him in actuality, you were so close to grabbing his face and forcing him to look at you for who you were.

Seemingly, even in the battle of wits, he seemed to emerge victorious. 

“Ratio.” 

He barely glances up, engrossed in his writing. “What?”

“Are you done with the project?” Biting the bullet stings your teeth and left a bitter taste on your tongue. 

“No. Not yet. Why? You’re finally going to help?”

“Are you going to stop looking down at me?” 

The library is nearly empty. The sun is barely a sliver on the horizon, and the voices of students float down the corridor beyond the grand stacks of books, yet you’re here. Why do you bother? Are you really that desperate for his validation?

“Are you going to keep writing such reprehensible work?”

You glare at him. “Guess not.” you turn on your heel.

“You’re absolutely infuriating.” he sighs, leaning back in the armchair. “You’re not aware of what you can do, are you?”

You glare at him. Your chest stings. 

He looks at you, then. Truly. His complexion relaxes, and he rubs his temples. “Sit. Let’s go through your part.”

“Why?”

“I mulled it over. Your part is brilliant.”

Your eyes widen.

“But your expression and research is appalling. Have you learned how to write academically at all?”

You’d never simultaneously wanted to slap and kiss a man at once until today. “What happened to getting off your high horse?”

“I got off it. Now sit and listen, I won’t repeat myself.”

You supposed that was the closest to an apology he’d ever give you, so you sat. It pained you, but you did. Besides, he had called you brilliant – your part – but still, you couldn’t force the smile from your face as you listened to his instruction. 

“Your ideas in your introduction are well formed, but from there, it all goes downhill. You have to reorder your logic for it to make sense, and we will be deducted points if you don’t elaborate on the principles of your concept first.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “So how would you do it?”

“For one, I’d restart completely and get straight to the point.”

You sigh exasperatedly. “Show me, then, if you’re so good.”

His eyes narrow at you, but he says nothing as he motions for you to come closer. 

The librarian was likely too scared to kick either of you out after closing time. Your arguments were heard by all of your neighbouring desks, and whenever there was a break in conversation, it seemed as if everyone held their breath. There was pin drop silence except for the two of you – but neither of you realised it. 

He was blunt, and had no idea what you were thinking, but perhaps this is what entrapped him. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about how he had called your ideas brilliant. 

You quickly learn how good of a teacher he is. Maybe it’s his forced patience or once-in-a-millenium genuine praise that spurs your decision, but you find yourself so willing to prove yourself, and he finds himself willing to help. 

Maybe this wasn’t so bad. 

“Just fix it, stop arguing with me. I’m right.”

“Why? Do you know every single thing about our topic?”

“No, but I have four degrees and more experience than you.”

“Jackass.”

“Change it.”

You grumbled another insult under your breath, yawning as you scribbled out the section you wrote and began to reword your thoughts. The sudden quietude was jarring, and as you looked around, you realised the overhead lights were off, the only source of light from the lamps illuminating the desks. 

“Is everyone gone?” you ask, sitting up straight and stretching. 

“Who cares? Finish up, then we can head back.”

“Fuck you, give me a break. I don’t write at the pace of a robot.”

“Then learn.”

“Fuck you too Veritas Ratio.”

“Expand your vocabulary while you’re at it.”

“Why are you so intent on irritating me?”

“You get irritated easily. Not my problem.”

“If you know I get irritated easily, why do you keep provoking me then? Do you want me to hate you more?”

He seems to pause. Minisculely, almost unnoticeable had your gaze not been trained on him for the past few hours. He had a habit of pausing and furrowing his brows when you said something slightly out of line. 

“Just finish the paper. You talk too much.”

You sigh and get back to work as he leafs through his own research. 

Amicable silence passes. The night is alive outside, gleaming and glistening with the touch of benevolent gods and whispers of long gone wishes – pearls stitched by fate’s knowing hands. 

“I’m done.”

“Show me.”

You pass the paper to him as you watch his expression carefully. 

Crimson eyes flit across your work, gold ringed irises flickering in the scarce light. If you could capture the way the light reflected in his eyes in a jar, you think wishfully that you’d stare at it forever; Until the light died out, or it decided to escape the ephemeral glass confines. 

But you’d never admit it out loud. It was wishful. If Veritas Ratio could read minds, he would undoubtedly reprimand you.

He clears his throat, and you snap to attention, swatting away your fantasies of stealing and bottling evasive light. 

“It’s good.”

You wait for him to speak further, but he says nothing. “Just good?”

“Well, by my standards, no, but for you, it’s good.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean,” he leans on the table, forearms flexing. “That you’re finally starting to live up to your potential.”

“Huh?”

He blinks. “What do you mean?”

“What potential?”

He shakes his head absently, almost in disbelief. Forget light, you’d barter with the lady of fate to let you preserve this moment in a frame so that you could glimpse this expression forever. You’d never seen him so dumbfounded and awed at once – you doubt anyone ever has. He’d always been a man of knowing, and whatever he didn’t know, he would find out. Nothing was ever a “maybe,” or a “probably,” it was always absolute. It had to be absolute in his philosophy. 

You happened to be the one exception. 

“You’re not aware of the potential you have?”

“You think I have potential?”

“Aeons,” he murmurs under his breath, before standing and gathering his belongings. “I’m going to bed. See you in class tomorrow. We’ll finish up then.”

He leaves before you have the chance to question him, but as you slump back in your armchair, you can’t help but smile. 

Potential was as close as you’d ever get to a compliment from Veritas. 

—

The lady of fortune and lady Themis looked him in the eyes and saw their mortal emanator at his birth. He’d never been certain what he was made for, but he never let it burden him. Things like these weren’t made for him to ponder, that was up to the dreamers and inventors. 

He was a being of logic. A doctor of calculations and reason, and everyone knew him as such. 

But he simply couldn’t figure out what it was about you – your naive gaze or that pout that absently curved your lips – that had your words and scent and eyes lingering in his mind like a vengeful phantom. 

You were the being of all chaos and irrationality, but you were so bright. Unhoned, rough and unhewn. A gemstone shining with impurities but shining still, casting a beautiful mosaic cast across the ground with indecipherable shapes and patterns. 

It was deplorable. He hated you for being on his mind, and hated you even more for your wasted potential. He hated how you stared, how his cheeks would redden from the intensity of your gaze, and how he’d have to pretend he was unfazed, because he couldn’t afford any distractions. 

You were the being of his undoing, he was sure. You were brought into existence to spite him, to bring an unaccounted variable into the equation of his being, and present a causality dilemma for all he was. 

He wanted you gone, but he wanted you closer all at once. 

He hated it. 

It wasn’t common for him to sleep in either, so when he woke five minutes before class was supposed to start, he cursed you with all the spite in his heart and rushed to class, clutching papers from the night before, still imbued with traces of your lingering fragrance. Just how long had you pored over those papers for your smell to latch to them? It should be impossible. Fate was clearly against him. 

Fate brought you back together as he entered the brimming lecture hall, and the only vacant seat was the one next to you. 

“Did you get the papers in order?” you asked, glancing at his dishevelled state. The Dr Ratio you knew was never dishevelled, but this was the closest you’d ever seen him to it. 

“Yes. Just write your name on your bits and sign the sign off sheet and it’s complete.”

You take the paper from him, scrawling your name across your work, then handing it back. 

With your project finally submitted, you could breathe easy again – never endure his biting remarks and criticism again. 

But as the class progressed, you realised you were in trouble. 

The professor was merciless. He flicked through the presentation on the new topic with haste, rushing through new concepts, formulae and calculations with record speeds. You’d nudged Ratio, whispering for help, but he rolled his eyes and kept his stare attentively on the presentation. 

You wanted to slap him. 

Was he tolerating you because of the project? Was he going back to cold stares and dismissive glances?

You wouldn’t allow it. Not when you were so close to discovering the man behind the alabaster figurehead. As soon as the professor signalled the end of the lecture, a collective sigh was released from the class. 

You turned to Ratio, and he was already staring at you. 

“What was it you wanted to say?”

“Tutor me please.”

He raised a brow. “Why?”

“Because you’re smart.”

“Pick someone else, then. I don’t see why I should.”

“You asshole, I’ll buy you lunch if you tutor me.”

He frowns at you as he begins to leave. You trail after him. “Please?”

He sighs deeply. Like a man burdened with the weight of his own world on his shoulders. Byron’s brooding, romantic hero, in his melodramatic glory. “Fine. Stop annoying me.”

You smile. “Thanks. Meet you at your dorm after dinner?”

He sighs again. “ Don’t be late or I'll lock the door and go to bed.”

He watched the seconds tick by in agonising motion – a man awaiting his sentence, but also his reprieve. Is this what his classmates felt before they took tests? It certainly seemed like it. Relief was on the horizon, and yet great suffering was imminent. He’d never known the feeling until now.

But as they say, the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun, and he wasn’t about to relinquish his quest to decipher you. 

It seemed mutual as he paced in front of his front door, having eaten dinner at the cafeteria early to mentally prepare himself. 

When your knock finally sounded at his door, he sighed, checked his watch, then reluctantly opened the door. 

You were a picture to behold. 

Hair slightly damp from a shower, drowning in loose, oversized clothing. It was all painfully domestic to see you walk through his doorway, scanning his living space. In the back of his mind, he thought it felt right, but he shook his head. 

You were messing with him again. 

Two could play that game. 

“Take a seat.” He pulled out a stool from his kitchen island. “Want a drink?”

“What, like alcohol?” you huffed. 

“Are you an alcoholic?”

“Only if you want me to be.” you shrug, setting down your notes on the bench.

He sighs exasperatedly, already berating himself for agreeing to this. He never agreed to tutor anyone. Why were you the exception? You shouldn’t be. 

His hypothesis: you were trying to get something out of him. A way to cheat the class, his academic favour, something hedonistic, even. It seemed plausible enough, but you listened intently as he explained the concepts the professor spoke of in the lecture, asking questions and actively engaging with his explanation. 

It didn’t seem like there was any ulterior motive. So why was he letting you break his rules and defy his nature?

“God, why didn't the prof explain it during that lesson? Everyone struggled.”

“You’re not smart enough to understand his concise methods, then.” he huffed. 

“You’re too smart.”

“You’re not smart enough.”

“Smart ass,”

“Get back to work. You did that question wrong, by the way.”

You groaned. “Where?”

He was so caught up in your quarrels that he didn’t notice the time grinding away at the pestle. It was nearly midnight when you’d finally caught up with that day’s classwork, and he sighed in relief. 

“You understand?”

“Yes. You don’t have to worry now.”

“I won’t. Now get out.”

“No drink?” you frowned, pretending to sulk at his expense. He simply stared at you, getting up from his stool and walking to the fridge. 

Remarkably, he pulled out two beers. 

“Don’t speak. If you do, I'll regret allowing you over again.”

A smile befell your lips. “I’m not saying anything.”

“I don’t like the look on your face.”

“Wipe it off then.”

A frown.  His new hypothesis: you were trying to seduce him for better grades, more tutoring sessions, or for his own downfall. 

“Drink and leave.”

“If you say so.” you take the chilled bottle and drink. He watches your throat move, and he thinks of himself as pathetic as he drinks as well, wincing at the bitterness. 

“Do you live by yourself?” you ask, head propped onto your hand. 

“I do.”

“Are you lonely or something?”

“No, people are irritating.” Like you.

“What a ray of sunshine you are.” You’re not much better.

“I don’t have to put up with any idiocy.”

“If you say so.”

Quiet passes as beer fizzes in the bottles, golden liquid sloshing at the sides of the glass. 

One thing you learn that night is that Veritas Ratio, the famed multiple time valedictorian of your university, is an extreme lightweight. His cheeks become red quicker than you can finish your bottle, and he starts to grumble nonsense under his breath. 

“You’re really smart, you know?” he suddenly says after mumbling something about quantum physics.

“What was that?” 

“You’re really smart. Really smart. Impressive.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you idiot, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” he leans on the bench, not entirely aware of his surroundings as he does so.  He squints at the ground. 

He’s a cute drunk, you realise begrudgingly.

“Thanks, Veritas. You’re smart too.”

“I know.” he drinks from his bottle again, swirling the dregs. “But I can’t figure you out.”

“Hm?”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Do you hate me?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Yes.”

“Then why are you like this?”

Your eyebrows raise. 

“You’re making me irrational. I can’t figure it out.”

“...Sorry?”

“You should be. You know, I was nearly late to class today because of you. You kept me awake.”

“Really?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking. Thoughts. And things.”

You laugh at his predicament, draining your beer and gathering your things. Trying to leave before he said anything that could turn the encounter south. 

“Wait. Don’t go.” he slams his palm onto your notes, determination in his eyes. 

“I need to go to bed.” you say as if scolding a child.

“I need to figure you out. You’re still an enigma to me. The anomaly of my behaviour. Is this your intention?”

“What are you talking about? You’re drunk.”

“I can think. I can move. I can see fine. I’m not drunk. Answer me.”

“Maybe I'm just so mesmerising to you.” you joke, but his brows furrowed in thought. 

“Maybe.” he retracts his hand from your notes, and you stow them away into your bag, slinging it onto your shoulder before he can do anything else. 

As you’re halfway to the door, he pushes you against the wall. 

You never realised how tall he was until then. How much of a height difference you had, or how muscular he was. He had to have worked out on a daily basis. The pungent smell of alcohol lingered on his breath, and his cheeks were tainted with deep red as he searched your gaze. 

You decide he’s officially lost his mind, but who were you to complain?

“Are you mesmerising?” he whispers, eyes trailing down your face, examining and analysing, his hand tracing down your body with those slender scholar’s hands.

“You tell me.”

Then he grabs your face and mashes your lips together. The kiss is rough, biting and rushed. You freeze for a sliver of a second before returning it, letting him decide your allure with his own devices. 

He pulls away almost too fast, lips kiss bitten, breath fast. 

“You’re a siren.”

“Am I?”

“You’re going to ruin me.”

“What a weak man you are, if it only takes one woman to ruin you.”

“I hate you.”

“Really?”

“I hate it because I’d probably let you.”

“Are you a masochist?”

“Not in my right mind. I’ll wake up and regret everything, but it’ll all be the same, fundamentally.”

“So what’s your conclusion?”

He still has you pushed against the wall, caged within himself. “You were put into this world to bring about my destruction.”

“How? Why?”

“You’re my opposite. Brash, naive, carefree.”

“Are you normally this analytical of people?”

“No, which supports my point.”

“I see. So you’re going to let me ruin your image?”

“No. I hate you for it.”

“Let me go then.”

He wordlessly steps away, and you stumble to the door. 

“So what are we?” you ask, turned away from him. You can’t see the way he drinks in your visage like a starving man, and the small, sober part of him is grateful for it. 

“Polar opposites.”

“I mean who am I to you?”

He’s silent for a while, so you turn back to him to find him leaning on the wall, gazing into space. 

“Veritas?”

“You’re my undoing. A catalyst, maybe, for my downfall. But there must be balance, right? So what are you?”

“What am I?”

“I don’t know.”

You knew then that he was beyond reason. Was this what you did to him? You took some sadistic pride in seeing a man such as himself reduced to a mumbling, questioning, incoherent mess. You were somewhat pleased with the effect you had on him., but you could never let him know this. 

He crumpled to the floor, back to the wall, clutching his head in his hands. “I’ll figure you out.”

“Sure you will. Goodnight, Veritas.”

“Night.”

Your smile was brighter than the morning as you left his apartment, embracing the night’s welcoming chill. 

written by @atlaswav , published 15th of July 2024

[samasmith23]

Jane Foster: Bridging the Gap Between Godhood & Humanity

The Death of the Mighty Thor is hands down one of the most thematically rich and character-centric storylines I've read from not just Jason Aaron's Thor run, but from his body of comics work as a whole!

It actually took awhile for me to fully unpack all my thoughts about this arc after I initially finished reading it, but that's only because there's just so many layers of meaning & symbolism which makes it a truly worthy finale to Jane Foster's saga as the Mighty Thor!

I stated before that Jane Foster is basically the Anti-Gorr in a previous post linked here:

After I read "The Death of the Mighty Thor" in its entirety, I realized that there was far more meaning to that initial description than I previously thought. Jane is the anti-Gorr the God Butcher not just in how she defends the gods from annihilation, but also in that unlike Gorr who was repulsed by the fact that he was becoming the very thing he despised so much, Jane Foster makes a conscious effort to bridge the gap between mortals and gods.

Jane is similar to Gorr in that she too has witnessed first hand the gods' arrogance & failure to protect those they've been sworn to uphold, and has directly suffered as a result. But where Jane ultimately differs from Gorr is that simultaneously has witnessed and recognizes the god's ability to love and protect others. This why when Odinson becomes unworthy and Jane hears Mjolnir's call in his place, she answers that call. She wields the power of Thor to not only live-up to the standards that the gods who came to her were never able to achieve, but also to provide the gods who have simultaneously failed and loved her a chance for redemption. Jane wants the gods to finally live-up to the ideals that they claimed to represent, to finally become truly worthy of the mortals who worship them.

Consequently, Jane is willing to sacrifice her own life in order to save the Asgardians from complete annihilation at the hands of the Mangog, a monster who sees only the negative traits of the gods, believing that they're incapable of self-improvement or change. Jane dies for love, whereas the Magog dies for naught but hate.

But dying is not the end of Jane Foster's story, as Aaron effectively illustrates that while suffering and dying for the sake of others can be meaningful, it's even more meaningful and important to live for yourself and others. Continuously sacrificing one's own well-being for others is a godly ideal that is unhealthy for the human body, which is demonstrated by Jane's cancer worsening every time she lifts the Mjolnir and the the transformation into Thor purges all toxins, including the chemotherapy drugs (which are essentially radioactive poison), from her body.

While Jane does more than once debate on whether or not this means she should completely cast aside her mortal half and remain as the Goddess of Thunder forever, she inherently recognizes that doing so would mean sacrificing her very humanity. And that scares her since while mortal life is painful and filled with unavoidable hardships, life simultaneously contains simple and unfathomable joys and beauties that are priceless and worthy of preserving, cherishing, and experiencing.

This is a point that was repeatedly emphasized by other characters in earlier in narrative. For instance, while Odinson recognizes that for all the happiness Jane has for provided others as a goddess, he states that she still has plenty to give by living as a mortal as well. Additionally Jane's friend and former S.H.I.E.L.D agent Rosalind Solomon makes an incredibly valid counterargument to Jane's desire to control her own fate and refusal to die due to forces outside her control like cancer. Regardless of whether or not Jane desires to die in battle protecting what she loves versus dying from cancer, dead is still dead either way.

So when Jane quite literally sacrifices her life to give the gods who failed her a second chance, in a deliberate Christ parallel she is resurrected with the assistance of Odinson, Odin and the sentient Mother Storm which previously dwelled within Mjolnir. And upon her revival Jane fully commits to living for herself and those who love her by dedicating herself to combatting her cancer with chemotherapy, while entrusting Odinson and the Asgardians to protect the realms which she had protected in their place.

"There must always be a Thor."

There must always be a Thor because Thor in all their various incarnations represents the ideal version of what a worthy god should be: a being whom continuously strives to protect others, questions and improves upon themselves, and cherishes love and humanity. A humanity which extends to not just humans and the various other races inhabiting the Ten Realms, but also to the Asgardian gods themselves, who are idealized representations of humanity. Jane recognizes the humanizing symbiosis wherein God compliments humanity, and humanity compliments God.

And while Jane is a mortal who lives up to godly standards by sacrificing herself to continuously protect & save others her mortal perspective also serves to remind the gods of their own humanity, thereby successfully bridging the gap between humanity and the divine.

Jason Aaron's run on Thor functions as an insightful inverse of real-life theological teachings for humanity to live by the god's standards, by instead teaching the gods to live by humanity's standards. In essence, Jane Foster is the anthesis to Gorr the God Butcher in that she conversely recognizes the gods as being human instead of inhuman.

And The Death of the Mighty Thor arc effectively serves as the enthralling apex of both Jane Foster & Jason Aaron's thesis on godhood.

[steveezekiel]

YOU SHOULD TITHE, YES, BUT DO NOT NEGLECT THE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS

“What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you are careful to tithe even the tiniest income from your herb gardens, but you ignore the more important aspects of the law—Justice, mercy, and faith. YOU SHOULD TITHE, YES, BUT DO NOT NEGLECT THE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS.”

Mathew 23:23 (NLT)

• Tithing is a part of the New Testament principles (Matthew 23:23; Hebrews 7:1-10).

THE Pharisees were careful to tithe all their incomes but neglected other important aspects of the law (Matthew 23:23).

- In the things of Kingdom, you use Scriptures to interpret whatever aspect of the Scripture that may be cumbersome or complicated to you.

- You cannot take a passage of the Bible out of context to support your rebellion and disobedience to the WORD. WHATEVER you want to establish that does agree with the whole counsel of God, CANNOT be supported by twisted passages of the Bible.

- When financial principles are being talked about, Some believers would want to rise and challenge the Bible.

THEY would want to probe and twist the Bible, avoiding the part they do not agree with: "speaking about these things as he [Paul] does in all of his letters. In which there are some things that are difficult to understand, WHICH THE UNTAUGHT AND UNSTABLE [who have fallen into error] TWIST AND MISINTERPRET, JUST AS THEY DO THE REST OF THE SCRIPTURES, TO THEIR OWN DESTRUCTION" (2 Peter 3:16 AMP).

- If you still argue on Tithings, you find it difficult to tithe either big or small incomes of yours, you are yet to be broken—you are still carnal (1 Corinthians 3:1).

- You are still worshipping MAMMON; And no servant can serve two masters.

IT is either God or Mammon [money]: "NO ONE CAN SERVE TWO MASTERS; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will be loyal to the one and despise the other. YOU CANNOT SERVE GOD AND MAMMON [riches]" (Matthew 6:24).

WHOM are you serving?

• Jesus’ view

- Jesus was correcting the religious teachers and Pharisees because they were hypocritical in their approach to the LAW.

- They prefer to do and place emphasis on the part of the LAW, the Word of God, that would be of benefits to them most.

JESUS was not condemning Tithing but affirming it!

- The Pharisees and the religious teachers were hypocrites because they left undone other important aspects of the LAW—justice, mercy and faith.

-> “You should tithe, yes.”

• When some BELIEVERS make a big money, they begin to think about Tithing—how, if possible they would avoid the tithing of the money.

- They would be contemplating whether to pay the tithe or not. SOME will even start asking how the leadership of Church has been managing the Church's money, the offerings and the tithes that People have been bringing to the Church.

- These same People whom the Pastor has put his or her time at their disposal, to pray with; for them to experience financial breakthrough in whatever they do—their vocational Work.

- Such people would begin to query the integrity of the Pastor, And would want to make findings about the Church's incomes and how they are being spent.

- Some may EVEN say their Pastor Has offended them, thus, they would not pay their Tithes in order to show their grievances or to discipline their Pastor.

THOSE who do that, ARE undoing themselves, bringing a curse on their finances.

- No one can hold God and HIS Ministers to Ransom. God will make a way for His servants, to be taken care of.

- It is being carnal and unbroken that makes a believer start questioning the leadership of the Church about how the Church money is spent, which he or she has not been doing beforehand; all because the person does not want to tithe the big income they have just gotten.

- The truth is: Tithing is one of the major LAW in the Old Testament AND also important in the New Testament (Hebrews 7:1-10).

- Tithing is a prove of your loyalty and submission to God.

YOUR money is your Life, and it is through it, that is, YOUR attitude towards it; God gets to know whom YOU love most—God or MAMMON (Luke 16:13).

• Rewards of tithing

- God would NOT ask you to do a thing that would not be of benefit to you—bless you.

- The instructions And commands given by God, are for the Good of His CHILDREN, And such instructions are NOT meant to afflict or oppress THEM.

(a) Tithings will open YOUR HEAVEN, the windows of heaven are opened to the tithers (Malachi 3:10).

WHEN you TITHE your incomes, you are challenging God to prove Himself in your Life: "... AND TRY ME [God] NOW IN THIS," says the LORD of hosts, IF I WILL NOT OPEN THE WINDOWS OF HEAVEN..." (Malachi 3:10).

(b) Tithe will make you a delightful land: A land that people delighted in, the people would want to favour you and be identify with you: “PEOPLE FROM OTHER NATIONS WILL BE GOOD TO YOU. You will have a wonderful country.” THIS IS WHAT THE LORD ALL-POWERFUL SAID" (Malachi 3:12 Easy to Read Version).

IT will open your life up FOR Blessings, help and favours, and mercy, where you least expect.

(c) It brings protections and prevents devourers in your life (Malachi 3:11).

THE believers who are tight-fisted used to have their lives fraught WITH calamities; difficulties And problems: "THERE IS ONE WHO SCATTERS, YET INCREASES MORE; and there is one WHO WITHHOLDS MORE THAN IS RIGHT, BUT IT LEADS TO POVERTY" (Proverbs 11:24 NKJV).

SOME believers hands are gluey—sticky like glue!

- A believer who does not give TITHE, the one with glutinous hands, cannot but experience the work of devourers the enemy, that is, the devil and his cohorts; in his or her life.

- Such believers spent money on sicknesses, they lost valuable THINGS often, and are victims of different attacks mostly.

THEIR belongings are theft. And they spent money on other petty things that should not have been devouring their finances: "In this way your whole nation has stolen things from Me, SO BAD THINGS ARE HAPPENING TO YOU" (Malachi 3:9 (Easy to Read Version)

• Obedience to the Word of God brings A Blessing on you, YOUR WORK and YOUR homes; whilst disobedience brings A curse: “You are cursed with a curse, for you have robbed Me, even this whole nation" (Malachi 3:9 NKJV).

- A lot of Christians are robbers, they have robbed God, and that makes THEM victims of evil.

- When you Tithe, you are not helping your Pastor or the Church, you are only provoking God’s Blessings on you life.

• If you do claim to BE born-again And still argue over Tithings, and offerings; that reveals or shows your spiritual shallowness or superficiality.

(a) It does mean you have no depth whatsoever.

(b) It also means you are not broken YET, you have not given God His rightful place in your Life.

HE has no control over certain aspects of your life, which your money is included.

- If God does not have any say-so on your finances, it means He is yet to have the whole of your person.

- If Jesus is your Lord, that is, the OWNER of your Life, He should be Lord of all YOU HAVE.

HE should not be the Lord of a A little fragmented part of your Life!

- If you want God to reign and rule in your Life, you should submit everything to Him.

YOU should be a Steward, and then allow Him to be the OWNER of all you have.

• You will not fail in Jesus' name.

Peace!

[valcalico]

Athena and Ares

(Just my thoughts on them and their relationship)

I have a lot of feelings about these two. They have a very complex dynamic, where they don’t really like each other, but they can’t work without each other either.

Athena provides rationality to the cruelty of war. She is the strategy and logic behind it. The objective. One might say she represents the generals, and the politicians and the main heroes. Basically the big players.

And Ares? He’s the opposite. He represents the emotion associated with war. He is the bloodlust and the desperate fight. Where the battle is thickest, where there is no room for thought, and when its pure survival instinct that drives you, that’s Ares. He represents the worst parts: the blood and the violence and the cruelty. He is accompanied by fear and terror (Phobos and Deimos). One might say he is the god of soldiers.

So they need each other. If they actually worked together, they’d be one of the dangerous forces ever, even in god circles. But they don’t. Not only because of how differently they view the world, but also because of deeper nuances in their relationship.

Athena is beloved. She is Zeus’ favourite child and his right hand goddess. The people love her. She is the patron of one of the most powerful, influential cities, Athens. She is highly respected everywhere else too. A protector of heroes and a friend to humanity.

Ares, on the other hand, is disliked by many. Zeus says he is “the most hateful of all gods” and says he would have thrown him into Tartarus if he wasn’t his and Hera’s son. (Its in the Iliad) (This part always makes me sad poor ares) He is highly respected in Thrace and Sparta. But Athens dislikes him and worships him out of necessity only.

Even in modern times, Athena is considered a feminist icon and badass lady, while Ares is labelled a brute.

Most people know this. So why did I just type out all that? Cause context is important when delving into the myths.

So first of all, let’s debunk that last point I made. In the ancient myths (and I’ll try not to include romans esp. Ovid), it didn’t work that way at all. Of course it’s important to keep in mind that ancient Greece was very misogynistic. But still, Athena was not feminist at all. Her being a “masculine” woman (mostly) was what made her so acceptable to Athens and she was regularly used to shut down other women. Also:

(The actual translation of this scene was circulated a while back. So you’re probably familiar with this. Also I’m not saying this to offend any worshippers of Athena or anyone who admires her. There are a lot of bad things in greek mythology and Athena’s internal and external misogyny is probably the least of my concerns. Plus if the greek gods did exist, i believe they change with the society, so they will no longer be Like That in the present day.)

Ares, on the other hand, was incredibly feminist, especially for that time. He surrounded himself with women he loved and respected. (Aphrodite, Eris, Enyo, etc). His lovers were often famously women who challenged the status quo (Otrera, Cyrene). He was regularly show to be a good father to all his daughters, immortal and mortal. (Harmonia, Hippolyta, Penthesilia, Alkippe). Also:

If that isn’t the coolest thing EVER-

Anyway, I won’t delve deep into that (well, any more than I’ve already rambled about it).

Now that we have gotten that out of the way, we can get to the hypotheticals.

I headcanon that despite ALL the evidence to the contrary, they maybe don’t despise each other completely. I see them having more of a love-hate relationship.

The thing is, gods are very contrary creatures. Zeus and Hera’s fights shake the world one moment, and in the next, they are as loving as any. Apollo is smiling and singing in one moment and skinning a satyr alive in the next. This complexity should be given this relationship too.

Like I said above, they need each other. Both general and soldier are equally important in war. And I don’t think you can completely truly need someone and hate their existence at the same time. (There are exceptions)

This scene in the Iliad really got me thinking:

If you take the scene at face value, this is probably not something to think too much about. Its Athena going to Ares, insulting him a bit, and taking him away from the war.

But its more than that. First off, Athena goes upto Ares and can calmly convince him to listen to her. Second, look how she frames the question. She says “shall we” which i think is pretty important. Athena doesn’t need to worry about Zeus’ anger or his rules, as she shows later on in the Iliad, and before, during the Rebellion. Both Athena and Ares knows this well. So why does she also need to withdraw? She can make the point without adding herself to the equation. She can also fairly easily run him off the battlefield like she does later. But she doesn’t. And there isnt any hostility from Ares.

Instead, they go together, away from the battlefield and...sit down near a river bank? Basically relax as much as they can? That doesn’t sound like a hateful relationship.

There is also the fact that Ares was going to join sides with the greeks (aka on Athena and Hera’s side) until Aphrodite convinced him to join her instead.

Its clear from this that Ares doesn’t really have much of a stake in this fight. He doesn’t care much about the greater objectives of the war. The only thing that can convince him to take a side is the people one the sides. He fights for the people he cares about, not for any greater good. He easily changes his loyalty because of his love for Aphrodite. He frequently gets into fights to save his children. He goes against Diomedes partly because of how he wounded Aphrodite. All of this means that he cares for Athena too. (And for Hera ofc). Maybe he doesn’t care for her as much as he cares for Aphrodite, but its not really fair to expect him to.

I like to think they genuinely do care for each other a great deal, they just kinda suck at showing it. Maybe that changes as time passes. I can see Athena being quietly protective of Ares (maybe she makes up an excuse to send him away during the Rebellion because she knows he will be in danger otherwise). I definitely think she felt a little guilt (guilt, not regret) at stabbing Ares, seeing as it wasn’t really fair. Ares didn’t know she was there.

I also think that Ares, who spends a lot of time with awesome women and is very fierce in standing up for them if the need arises, will be the one who calls her out a lot of the time on her misogyny or hypocrisy. Athena also has a habit of suppressing any “vulnerable” emotion. She likes to keep all her guilt, sadness, fear, hurt, and regret all locked up tight. I feel like Ares is one of the few people she lets a few of those emotions out around, even if she still tries not to. And in the lighter moments, in private, maybe they joke around a bit and laugh, too.

Okay, now for the heavier bit. While i do think they care for each other, there is also a lot of resentment there. A lot of it, unfortunately, comes from how they are treated by their peers and elders. They like different people, they are liked by different people and they are liked to different degrees. Let’s talk about 3 of the main players.

1) Zeus. Does this surprise you?

I do think Zeus loves all his kids. He doesn’t like some of them, but he does love all of them. And he isn’t as bad of a father as everyone thinks. People have discussed that better so I’ll not rant about it here.

All that aside, he definitely has favourites. Athena is his favourite child (Apollo, I think, being his second). And this favouritism is SUPER OBVIOUS. Its like none of the rules apply to Athena, which is weird considering Zeus isn’t forgiving of those who defy his authority (did someone say Prometheus?)

Ares, on the other hand, is on the other side of the spectrum. The one Zeus dislikes the most.

We can see how this affects them in several instances. The most notable is probably in the Iliad, after Athena deceitfully stabs Ares and forces him to flee to Olympus, injured.

Ares calls Zeus out on his favouritism. He says that gods weren’t allowed to fight each other and if it were anyone else, they would have been punished. He says Zeus always does this, always lets Athena get away with everything, and that he needs to start getting his daughter under control.

Zeus doesnt like this too much and basically tells Ares to stop whining and that he isn’t much better when it comes to destruction. He says Ares is the most hateful of all gods and loves bloodshed. He says he would have gotten rid of him if he weren’t his son, but seeing as he was, Zeus cannot bear to see Ares in pain. He then gets Ares healed.

I can definitely see how this kind of blatant favouritism from someone who should be better to Ares would affect him. Ares is the firstborn son of Zeus and Hera. He should be getting a lot of respect, as per ancient standards but instead, he is overtaken by his virgin half sister from Zeus’ previous marriage, and many bastard half siblings.

Athena being able to break rules left and right, and Ares having to be nervous about even toeing the line will cause distance between them.

This in addition to his position as a god of civil order is a reason that i think he wouldn’t want to break any rule until he deems it absolutely necessary, like if someone he cared about were in danger.

I can totally see a situation where both of them try to help a hero but Zeus orders them not to. Athena then wants to break the rules, but Ares is very hesitant about doing so. Athena convinces him, either by taunting or by calmly urging him, to go along with it. They get caught but only Ares gets punished. Ares can then truly show Athena the difference between her and everyone else.

Remember when i headcanoned earlier that Athena sends Ares away during the Rebellion? That ties into this. She knows that if they get caught, ares could get into trouble whether or not he did anything. I expect Ares will be furious about it when he returns and finds out what happened though, thinking it was just to get him out of the way, until its revealed why she did it. Then he’ll probably be super awkward.

2) Poseidon

The equal and opposite force to Zeus.

Well, maybe not equal, but quite close.

Lets start with the canon. Poseidon HATES Athena, despises her completely, and he frequently clashes with her father too. They worked together one (1) time and as a result, Athena wasnt punished while Poseidon was enslaved for years. Then there is the fight for Athens, the whole epic of the Odyssey, and so on.

Meanwhile he and Ares are actually shown to be close. Other than the Halirhothius incident, they are pretty chill. Poseidon is the one who vouched for him after the Net Thing With Hephaestus. Poseidon is also pretty cool with Aphrodite and they work together occasionally.

I think Poseidon thinks of Athena as this bratty kid of his brother, who is constantly working against him. You know that one annoying cousin you have who you try to avoid during family reunions because you KNOW you will clash? This is that, but a thousand times worse.

Meanwhile Poseidon really cares for Ares, and Ares takes fatherly affection from anywhere he can get it. Poseidon maintains a good relationship with both Aphrodite and Ares. He is closer with Aphrodite and doesnt love Ares quite as much as Zeus loves Athena, but he still cares a lot.

3) Aphrodite

It is no secret that Athena hates Aphrodite. Even when Athena warns Diomedes not to harm any god, she says Aphrodite is the exception. Athena, along with many of the other Olympians, see her as nothing but a silly, flighty, hysterical goddess.

On the other hand, Aphrodite and Ares are known for their intense love for each other, from even before her arranged marriage. They have a lot of kids together, and are shown to be close with all of them. They each have like one story of jealousy/one story where they are at odds with each other, which is pretty good for such a high-profile couple (Aphrodite curses Eos and Ares kills Adonis). They are there for each other, like in the trojan war, when Aphrodite was wounded and Ares gave her his chariot to go back to Olympus. He also changed sides very soon, just because Aphrodite asked. Athena complains about this too.

I think I wouldn’t be far off in saying that Athena is definitely resentful of how close they are, and how much sway Aphrodite has over her brother.

While Athena definitely doesn’t see eye to eye with Ares, and disagrees with his domain, she still sees him as a War God. One of her kind. And she just doesn’t see how a War God can go for someone like Aphrodite. Basically, she doesn’t think Aphrodite is, for lack of a better term, good enough for Ares, seeing as she is a Love Goddess.

Ares, on the other hand, does not want to hear anything like this. He is fiercely defensive of Aphrodite. He defends her warlike aspect (Aphrodite Areia), while everyone else tells her that she has no place in the battlefield. He sees Aphrodite as more than what people have labelled her to be. Which is why I believe (other than Eos and Adonis), they have one of the healthiest open relationships in greek mythology.

This can definitely cause animosity between Athena and Ares, because of Athena’s scorn and Ares’ temper. It can also increase the conflict between Athena and Aphrodite.

Maybe as time goes on, Athena can start seeing Aphrodite as having more depth. I certainly hope so. While they wouldn’t be best friends, I don’t see why they can’t learn to get along. This could also strengthen Athena and Ares’ bond. As long as people don’t insult her or lay their claim on her domain of Love and Beauty, Aphrodite is often very supportive. I truly think Aphrodite can help Athena overcome her misogyny, with Ares.

In conclusion, Athena and Ares have a very complex relationship. They do not simply hate each other, and neither do they have the most loving relationship. But they do care for each other. But strain can often be put on their relationship from their relationship to other people as well. Hopefully as time passes, they can overcome that, and have a healthier relationship, instead of sharing a good moment and then proceeding to fight each other for the next 500 years.

[grishaxverse]

!!!!PLEASE READ!!!!!

Today I will bring to you why representation matters.

The film and literature industry has made a lot of money with great content that they've given the world. But they've also brought about a lot of insecurity among people because of the lack of representation

All the fandoms that I'm a part of has white people as the majority part of the fandom. But there is one particular fandom that I would like to draw your attention to (I'll keep it unnamed because I mean no offense to them) And it makes sense why it is so! Because the characters that are talked about in this fandom are white and the representation of brown characters is neglected mercilessly

And then I finally decided to read Grishaverse. I realised that the void that I have felt within me is real and true, because the lack of representation that has made me feel this way is real. I thought that I will never belong anywhere because I wouldn't be accepted for who I am

Authors like Leigh Bardugo and Tahereh Mafi are a blessing and are Sanktas that I will worship all my life because of how they've made me feel at home with their characters and writing

In the above mentioned unnamed fandom, I started to despise the majorly talked characters (fan favourites, if you will). The fans in this fandom will never understand what it is to be disregarded because they've always been represented, and I've talked about this void and nobody gets it. The characters that they glorify are just a reminder of how white people will always disregard representation

When I read Grishaverse, I could relate to so many of the characters. Whether it be Alina trying to find herself/facing racism, Mal trying to deal with sudden changes, Genya realising the impact of the truth, Tolya and Tamar being on the righteous path, Zoya's character arc, Kaz's touch sensitivity, Inej's faith, Nina's love for food, Jesper neglecting who he is, Wylan's struggle, Matthias not being able to support what he wants because his people have different ideologies.....I have been able to relate to so many of these things and I feel at home here.

I feel safe.

I have long black hair that I always have in a braid. Growing up, I used to beg my mother to cut it short because isn't that what every book and movie represents? Having short hair is what makes you cool? I'd never come across a character that would represent that part of me until Inej. Now when my mom asked me if I wanted to cut my hair, I refused. I told her that I was proud of it....that it was something that I didn't want to change. The look in her eyes made my day. She was so proud of me because I had finally understood what she wanted me to realise whenever she refused to let me cut my hair

I'm overweight. I've always been insecure about the way I look, but Nina changed that for me. I've started to love my body for the way it is because that's who I am! The way I look has nothing to do with the person that I am

But coming back to Inej. Having a strong brown character like her has given me so much hope and motivation, and Amita Suman is an absolute goddess! The way Inej has been written has made me realise that I will be proved wrong one day. That one day, I will be represented in the right way and people will finally realise that what I'm trying to say with this post matters. If I ever meet Amita, I'll probably cry about the fact that she has made me feel at home. I'll thank her endlessly

The Grishaverse fans may fight with each other over toxic issues, but the people that I consider fans and whom I talk with, they have given me so much love and support that I no longer feel insecure! I'm proud of who I am and I've talked so much on the stories of my Grishaverse account, which I don't even do on my art/main account! I've talked about the stories that I write on Wattpad so openly because everyone is incredibly supportive

So that's it

The right representation matters because you will be changing someone's life. If you are a writer, please bring about diversity in your books, and not only for the sake of it. Understand why it is important and necessary that the society's mindset changes

[antiquitiesandlabyrinths]

Akhenaten

The name Akhenaten is rather well known as a Pharaoh of Egypt. Like Ramesses II, Hatshepsut, Cleopatra, and Tutankhamun, Akhenaten won the popularity contest of modern society through defining himself as far different from most other Pharaohs. With Akhenaten, however, he’s not even like the special Pharaohs.

Let’s look a little at his life and the history of the time period he ruled over. He was in the 18th Dynasty of the New Kingdom, from 1353-1336 BC. Like most Pharaohs there are a few different pronunciations of his name, including Akhenaton, Ikhnaton, Khuenaten, all meaning of great use to Aten, which leads into his conversion into the cult of Aten. Before the conversion his name was Amenhotep IV, son of Amenhotep III. His mother was named Tiye. Later on in life he married Queen Nefertiti, fathering two children, one from his wife Nefertiti and one from his lesser wife, Lady Kiya, having Ahnksenamun and Tutankhamun to each wife respectively.

Before we get into the whole mess of his religion and the ‘revamping’ he did of ancient Egypt, let’s recognize the other things he did for or to the country.

You’ll recognize the vastly different art style between Akhenaten’s rule and the history of most of Egypt. In art that depicts Akhenaten, he was shown as long and spindly, a style that carried into his family. Some people believe that this was because he and his family suffered from Marfan’s syndrome, a disease that caused the elongation of bones and skinniness. A more likely explanation stems from the Pharaoh’s religious beliefs, which as you know, was vastly different from other Pharaohs. This theory is a little more likely because there was no reason for the queen Nefertiti to have the same condition as her husband. Instead, it was probably because their status was far different from the other Pharaohs, as they were moved into a genuinely god-like status for their worship of Aten.

The part of Akhenaten and his rule that interests me the most is the way the royal family was presented in art, despite the style. Like many parts of Akhenaten, it’s entirely different from other Pharaohs (though, whether that’s good or bad is up to you).

Now, most Pharaohs presented themselves highly in art. They could do that, so why not? If I had the guts and the money I probably would too, but my point is that essentially all Pharaohs depicted themselves alone on stelas, engaging in hunting or other activities that strengthened the image of themselves that they wanted to show the world. Usually they were masculine tasks that could be done only by those with great strength and great riches. Akhenaten went in an entirely different direction; he depicted himself with his family. In the stele of Akhenaten, he is shown in a private way, the scene being him with his family, enjoying themselves together.

While we can’t say the definitive reason for him presenting himself as this, the most logical conclusion has to do with, again, his religious beliefs. In his mind, the Aten was held above all else, even the Pharaoh. With Aten as the highest consideration, the Pharaoh and his family enjoyed their lives under the influence of the Aten’s love and grace.

Now that we have a little insight, let’s get into the whole mess of his religion that died immediately after he did.

Akhenaten originally reigned as Amenhotep IV, a reign that lasted around five years before he switched religions. Changing his name, he converted to a cult that worshipped Amun to that of Aten, abolishing the ancient rites of those before him, and instituting what is believed as the first example of monotheism state religion in the world. His rule as Akhenaten lasted 12 years, during which he was labelled as the infamous ‘heretic king’, so that should give you some insight into how people felt about him. 

Before his rule, the cult of aten was a cult like all others in Egypt. It was a bit like choosing your favorite God – find the one you like most, and join that cult. For example if I were to join a cult, I would join the cult of my favorite God, Ma’at. I mention this because before the change, the Aten was shown in inscriptions of Akhenaten (Amenhotep IV at that point), represented by the sun disk. It’s also important to note cult doesn’t carry the same meaning as it did then, and each cult shared the same goal: balance and eternal harmony.

At the time of Amenhotep IV’s rule the Amun cult (where the Aten is from) held incredible power. Their power had been growing for a long while, and by the time of his rule, they held nearly as much power and riches as the Pharaoh himself, and actually owned more land than Amenhotep IV. The fifth year of his reign he switched everything; this was when he abolished the practices of the previous religion of Egypt, and proclaimed himself the “living incarnation of a single all-powerful deity known as Aten,” (Joshua J Mark), and by the ninth year, he closed every single temple, prohibiting all the old practices and devotion to the many Gods the people of Egypt worshipped.

Around then was when he moved the royal seat of Egypt from the traditional house of Thebes to a city of his own creation, a city named Akhetaten, and with that he changed his name to Akhenaten. Here he earned the name the Heretic King, earning the ire of some historians and the admiration of others.

Despite the fact that Akhenaten’s influence completely destroyed worship of the Gods many Egyptians loved, one of the main problems with his rule was that the Old Gods of Egypt instilled harmony and order in the citizens, ultimately helping to create a country that lasted over 4,000 years. Without these Gods, things got a little wonky.

Religious tolerance was allowed with the many Gods, emphasizing peace to the point where religious intolerance wasn’t even an issue. Unfortunately, for monotheism to work, there has to be something inherently wrong with the other side, which made Akhenaten’s work a lot harder, and its’ effects much stronger. It led to the intolerance of other beliefs and some severe suppression, and if you look at the monotheistic religions of today, you can see the same sort of pattern. With intolerance comes hatred and war.

“Dating to this point in Akhenaten’s reign was a campaign to excise the name of gods other than the Aten, especially Amun, from the monuments of Egypt. This was done with violence: hieroglyphs were brutally hacked from the walls of temples and tombs. This was probably carried out, at least in part, by illiterate iconoclasts, presumably following the orders of their king. [Akhenaten] carried out a religious revolution the like of which had never been seen before in Egypt.” (Zahi Hawass, 42-43).

There were priests of Atum who attempted to hide religious artifacts, storing statuary and texts away from the soldiers ordered to destroy them. The priests, with nothing left to do, were forced to abandon their temples. In response Akhenaten either hired new priests or forced the other ones to obey him, proclaiming him and his wife once more as Gods on earth.

Now you can see how Akhenaten kind of sucks. Let’s talk about how he sucks even more.

His foreign policy.

With his ego inflated to the size of the sun, Akhenaten thought himself above interactions with foreign powers. He left his duties to spend more time on himself and his family, ultimately leading to a severe neglect.

You might be asking, “didn’t every Pharaoh have a super-inflated ego?” and yes, you’d be right, but no Pharaoh before Akhenaten had genuinely claimed themselves to be a God. As a self-proclaimed incarnated God, he must’ve thought such affairs beneath him.

Discovered through letters of the time, several (former) allies of Egypt had asked for their help several times with various affairs. At the time Egypt was wealthy, prosperous, and strong, a state that had been slowly growing before halting at Queen Hatshepsut’s reign. Hatshepsut and her successors employed a strategy of actually doing work, by working out when to approach with diplomacy, and when military action was required. Akhenaten on the other hand, ignored everything outside of his palace at Akhetaten. 

The uncertainty of Akhenaten’s rule, along with letters of correspondence between the city of Amarna, the Pharaoh, and foreign nations, led to this era being called the Amarna period. These very letters were proof of the Pharaoh’s negligence. However, the letters also show his keen eye in foreign diplomacy, if the situation interested him so. It was a whole thing with the Hittites, but since this is chiefly about Akhenaten, I’ll leave that topic for later. All you really need to know is that he only tended to issues that affected him directly, and through the Amarna letters, historians can see how poor of a King he was, as well as how deeply many of his subjects disliked or despised him. 

Essentially, the main reason this mess didn’t work out was because it brought about something new: exclusivity. And the Egyptians did not like that, believing that the world needed to have a balance in order to stay away from slipping into chaos. In the end monotheism didn’t last; hell, it was ended basically the second Akhenaten’s son took the throne. Tutankhamun, originally named Tutankhaten, changed his name to reflect the return to polytheism. His successors tore down the reminders of Akhenaten’s reign, removing him and his adoration for the Aten, eradicating his name from the record.

There’s no saying he didn’t affect the world – he did, a lot. Whether that affect was good or bad is up to the interpreter (personally I don’t like it all that much). By Freud’s thinking (hear me out, I know he sucks) Akhenaten’s rule inspired the ancient world, leading others to copy his ideas and theology, eventually snowballing into our modern world, where there are essentially no polytheistic religions. You have to give him credit – he was the first person of the ancient world to dream up monotheism, changing what had defined humanity for so long.

With his name stricken from the books, historians only discovered him upon finding his city Akhetaten. In the records, Horemheb is labelled as Amenhotep III’s successor, skipping over both Akhenaten and Tutankhamun’s rule. Later when Tutankhamun’s tomb was found as one of the very few graves still filled with treasure, interest spiked in Tutankhamun’s life, eventually leading back to his father Akhenaten. 

[gstqaobc]

FROM THE MONARCHIST LEAGUE OF CANADA

As this Ecomm went to publication, we received word of the death, at the great age of 96, of Bill Silver, a significant benefactor of the League from its early days, and for many years a pillar of our Ottawa Branch.  We wished to remember him here: his ebullient spirit, fierce loyalty spoken gently, innate modesty and kindness.  Indeed Chaucer might have had forethought of Bill in describing one of his characters as a “very parfitt gentle knight.” May his ardent spirit rest in peace, and his memory be a blessing and example to us all.   LEAGUE ISSUES NEW FLYER: THE CASE FOR THE CROWN The League thought it timely and useful to issue, offer in its advertising and distribute as widely as possible - both via the website and in printed form - a new flyer which will give you, our members, ammunition to argue logically the case for the Crown in conversation with others, and, we hope, to distribute strategically. One never knows when such an item, left on a waiting room table at the doctor or dentist’s office, affixed to a supermarket or other community bulletin board, put through neighbours’ mail slots - the possibilities are many - will do good work for our cause. We hope you will both enjoy and profit from this item, and that many thousands will be distributed across the country. See item one in the WHAT CAN I DO FOR THE CANADIAN CROWN? section of this Ecomm, below, to read online and request printed copies.   And special thanks to our wonderful team of no less than seven translators, all francophones from La Belle Province, who so kindly volunteered to make the French version one that is accurate in expression and eloquent in its prose.                     WHAT CAN I DO FOR THE CANADIAN CROWN? Some suggestions for member activity during these times. We invite members to send additional ideas by return of email. 1.    How about asking the League to send you several print copies of our new flyer:  THE CASE FOR THE CROWN, or print them on your home computer:  https://www.monarchist.ca/index.php/publications and give them to others who may be unaware or sceptical of the importance of Canada’s constitutional monarchy, or even hostile to it. School teachers could be encouraged to read the League’s educational booklets, also available both online and in print at the same URL, or even to request a class set.   2.    When you read an editorial, opinion column or letter to the editor in a newspaper, or a tweet or Facebook post, critical of the Crown, don’t get mad - get even! In other words, use a temperate tone and logical argument to refute the writer’s attack.  Keep it brief: focus on the obvious flaws in reasoning, mis-statements of fact or name-calling substituting for logic.  Same goes for radio talk shows. In the long run, on all media, whatever the provocation, whatever the momentary satisfaction of ”giving them a piece of my mind” - an old adage remains true: “You catch more flies with honey.” 3.    Write your elected representative at the federal level to re-state briefly the reasons you support constitutional monarchy as our system of government,  and asking the MP whether not your view is shared. 4.    Once pandemic restrictions ease, try to make sure that Royal events - such as the upcoming 95th birthday of our Queen, 10th Wedding Anniversary of William and Catherine or 100th birthday of Prince Philip are celebrated both in your home but also among your wider family, your friends, your colleagues at the office,  your place of worship/faith community or service club. The League generally sends you some ideas to mark these celebrations. Remember, as they are incorporated into family life and public life, the     Crown becomes further embedded in the heart of the nation, and truly represents The Queen’s wish that it ”reflects all that is best and most admired in the Canadian ideal.” This is especially true when you go out of your way to include in your observance the newest members of our Canadian family, who generally are eager to participate in the traditions of their new homeland, and in turn to share their own traditions with the wider community. 5.    Always use a Queen stamp when you write a letter or pay a bill by mail. 6.     At events of ceremony, whether a Council meeting, a graduation, a civic celebration - whatever - make sure that the Royal Anthem is sung as well as the National Anthem. To the extent you can, discourage event organizers from having a soloist “perform” them. Far more pride and         learning develop from the untrained voices of loyal folk singing together. In that way, the Anthems are sung “with heart and voice” and not merely listened to.   A FINAL IDEA: AN ACT OF LOVING SUPPORT & THANKS Apart from the above, we think it would be enormously comforting and supportive for every one of us to  write a kind letter to The Queen, expressing your thoughts at a difficult time: her beloved husband ailing, a grand-child chiding other family members via sensational television, the drumbeat of the tabloids and the restrictions on her busy life caused by the pandemic.  A selection of letters, especially those from Commonwealth Realms, are indeed seen by The Queen - and their number and tone are summarized to Her Majesty. The address is - Her Majesty The Queen, Buckingham Palace, London SW1A 1AA, UK Theoretically you don’t need postage to write the Sovereign; in practice, it is safer to affix the international airmail stamp available from your local Canada Post outlet.   AN INTERESTING OPINION PIECE FROM TODAY’S DAILY TELEGRAPHWe thought you might be interested to see the following strongly-worded opinion piece, reflecting a good deal of the tone of recent British public opinion, rather different from much of the Canadian and US commentary. Meghan’s fake interview has real-world effects The Sussexes’ claims have undermined the monarchy and done lasting damage to the Commonwealth by Tim Stanley, March 15, 2021 Two headlines appeared on the BBC News website on the same day. At the top: “Harry and Meghan rattle monarchy’s gilded cage”. At the bottom: “The kidnapped woman who defied Boko Haram”. Well, that puts the Sussexes' problems in perspective, doesn’t it? Yet across Africa, one reads, the Duchess’s story has revived memories of colonial racism, tarnishing the UK’s reputation, and has even lent weight to the campaign in some countries to drop the Queen as head of state. The only nation that seems to think a lot of nonsense was spoken is Britain. In the wake of an interview that Joe Biden’s administration called courageous, British popular opinion of Harry and Meghan fell to an all-time low, and the American format had a lot to do with it. Oprah Winfrey is not our idea of an interviewer. She flattered, fawned and displayed utter credulity. Imagine if it had been her, not Emily Maitlis, who interviewed Prince Andrew over the Jeffrey Epstein allegations. “You were in a Pizza Express that day? Oh my God, you MUST be innocent! Tell me, in all honesty, though...did you have the dough balls?” This wasn’t an interview, it was a commercial for a brand called Sussex, a pair of eco-friendly aristo-dolls that, if you pull the string, tell their truth – which isn’t the truth, because no one can entirely know that, but truth as they perceive it. “Life is about storytelling,” explained Meghan, “about the stories we tell ourselves, the stories we’re told, what we buy into.” Meghan is a postmodernist. Just as Jean Baudrillard said the Gulf War never happened, but was choreographed by the US media, so the Royal narrative she was forced to live was fake, her public happiness was fake and, following that logic, this interview might involve an element of performance, too. People have challenged her claims, alleging contradictions and improbabilities, but one of the malign effects of wokeness is that you have got to be very careful about pointing this out. Why? Because wokery insists on treating a subjective view as objective truth, or even as superior, because it’s based upon “lived experience”. To contradict that personal perspective is perceived as cruel, elitist and, in Meghan’s case, potentially racist, so it’s best to wait a few weeks to a year before applying a fact check. In the meantime, affect sympathy. People would rather you lied to their face than tell them what they don’t want to hear. The result is profoundly dishonest, for I have never known an event over which there is such a gulf between the official reception, as endorsed by the media and politics, and the reaction of average citizens, who are wisely keeping it to themselves. Into that vacuum of silence steps not the voice of reason but bullies and showmen – like Piers Morgan, who said some brash stuff about Meghan’s honesty and, after an unseemly row on Good Morning Britain, felt obliged to resign from his job.  “If you’d like to show your support for me,” he wrote afterwards, “please order a copy of my book.” Dear Lord, was this row fake, too? I can no longer be sure, though I despised Good Morning Britain before and still do: it embodies the cynical confusion of emotion and fact, a show made for clicks, where even the weatherman has an opinion. So what is real in 2021? The Commonwealth, which does a lot of good in a divided world. The monarchy, which has been at its best during the pandemic, doing the boring stuff of cutting ribbons and thanking workers that, one suspects, Meghan never grew into (can you imagine her opening a supermarket in Beccles?). It contains flawed people, but that only adds to its realness, and they can adapt faster than you might think. Prince William got the ball rolling by telling reporters, who he is trained to ignore, that his family is not racist. His wife paid her respects to the murder victim Sarah Everard, demonstrating that she is neither cold nor silenced. I’d wager Kate does her duty, day after day, no complaint, not because she is “trapped”, as Harry uncharitably put it, but because she loves her family and believes in public service. Meghan and Harry have indeed prompted the Royal family to change: not in order to endorse their criticisms, however, but to answer them.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

[dyaz-stories]

Hello! i recently started watching inuyasha and there is one thing bothering me,do u think inuyasha loves kikyo more than kagome?

Oooh dear anon, this is an old, divisive question in the fandom!

I could tell you that it has a lot to do with interpretation. For example, I don’t really consider love in terms of quantity, and there are plenty of people among the fandom who think that Inuyasha never really loved Kikyo, and others who think he never really loved Kagome. I will say, I dislike the second take because it’s often tied with the idea that you can’t love more than once or that Inuyasha can never stop loving Kikyo and I dislike the idea — and I don’t think it’s true. As for the first one, I actually like the idea that Inuyasha liked Kikyo because it emphasizes this very idea: you can love more than once.

However, I do think there are a lot of elements in the manga that we can use. It’s complicated, and frankly, not always handled well, but if I were to give you a tl;dr, it would be: it’s Kagome. As I said, I don’t really think of love in terms of quantity, but I think Kagome is the one Inuyasha is in love with during the story. Following take on that isn’t technically spoilers considering how old the series is but I do advise against reading it if you really just started and you want to experience everything first hand. Also, I base myself exclusively on the manga, so it’s not 100% relevant for the anime!

So, I can’t really discuss Inukag in that context without first talking about Inukik and, as I’ve said before, I don’t believe Inukik knew each other very long nor very well before the Naraku incident. I know the anime distinctively goes against that (Tragic Love Song of Destiny), but I don’t think it makes much sense on many levels, from Kikyo chosing to test the Jewel on Inuyasha to her even offering him to become human if she knew how much he absolute despises being human.

Basically, my take on it is that they didn’t have that many conversations at all.

Does that mean he couldn’t have loved her? I’m not one to make such a call honestly, though I get why many people feel it’s a shallow basis. I do think Inuyasha worshipped the ground Kikyo walked on and that he had very strong feelings for her — I’ll let you decide whether or not that qualifies as love.

Things start getting complicated, of course, after the betrayal and when Kagome appears in Inuyasha’s life. I do want to point out that Inuyasha and Kagome’s relationship is very, very different from Inuyasha and Kikyo’s, just like Kagome and Kikyo are very, very different. There are two things to note about Kikyo though and it’s that 1) she’s the first person Inuyasha had an actual connection to and 2) she’s dead. The fact that she’s dead is essential in the InuKagKik dynamic, as Inuyasha’s guilt is the stone the ‘love triangle’ is built on.

(I don’t think it’s actually a love triangle because I don’t think Kikyo and Inuyasha love each other at this point and I think Kagome and the group are the ones who miscontrued it that way)

However, in the manga at least, Inuyasha affirms his feelings for Kagome very early on and very clearly. After Kikyo falls off a cliff for the first time (yes she has a tendency to do that), he’s all sad and everything and Kagome’s smile cheers him up.

Like, just seeing her smile, after his ex ‘love’ died again as far as he knows. He says he ‘wants her by his side’,

tells her that there is no replacing her and that his feelings for Kikyo are mostly guilt,

and dismisses her worries that he is still in love with Kikyo.

In comes what half of the fandom defines as him ‘choosing Kikyo’. I actually have a whole analysis on that. Bottom line is, I don’t believe he chose Kikyo, I don’t think he loves her romantically, and generally, I think the whole debacle has to do with Kagome’s insecurities and inability to see that he’s not in love with Kikyo and that he just feels guilty, and Inuyasha’s guilt. I think Kagome doesn’t think clearly when it comes to Kikyo and Inuyasha.

And after that, well, the thing is, I believe that Rumiko changed her mind. I connect it to Kikyo, because as I’ve said in other meta pieces, I feel the story ‘bends’ around her. I think she tried to make InuKik more important than it originally was and, to be honest with you, it made it very hard for me to enjoy Inukag by the end of the manga / anime. I mean, I can’t see this Inuyasha kissing Kikyo, and I don’t think this kiss is justified considering who they are at this point. I think he should have mourned her earlier on— I have a lot of feelings but oh well.

Still, in the end, it’s all about Kagome. I know many people feel that she was his ‘second choice’, and with how the manga framed it, I totally get it. I’m very bitter about the almost-kiss scene because it particularly carries that feeling for me (and I actually wrote about it for Inukag week last year) due to the lack of resolution around many things with Kikyo — if Rumiko wanted us to feel that she was what stopped him from being with Kagome, it would have been nice to mention again, at some point, that she wanted him to die with her.

However I do think the conclusion we get when it comes to Inuyasha’s feelings is as clear as can be in the mess that is the last part of the manga.

She was born for him, and he was born for her. And honestly, I think the fact that he says that is what matters most.

Bonus: Inukag moments where Inuyasha shows his feelings dump

[filmwuju]

[TRANS] Character Introduction: People around Dan-ah

Seo Taewoong | Jeong Jihyun | Seo Myeongmin | Dong Kyung | Lucian

Seo Taewoong (Male, 25) Member of boy group AtoZ

He thought "snowfall with large snowflakes" only existed in fairy tales. He lived in LA since he was born, and it was winter when he came back to Korea—an extremely cold country that snows a lot. To Taewoong, who came back to his motherland, that was his impression.

A name that is familiar to anyone, Seo Taewoong. But if you're imagining the man from the manga, then you're mistaken. He can't even go near sports, much less play basketball. He was born with a weak heart. Starting from the incubator, he spent his entire childhood in hospitals. He's got the narrative of a sickly handsome boy, but his temper is terrible beyond comparison. It was a result of his life since birth: enduring each day not knowing when he's going to die, going back and forth between the pathetic sense of hope that since he's feeling less sick today, he'll be better tomorrow.

His existence itself was a rumor. The fact that not even one family member visits the teenage boy who spends 350 out of 365 days in the hospital, was a permission that it's fine to gossip all they want. An abandoned love child of a conglomerate family, a popular actress's love child, a powerful sponsor's love child, so on and so forth. The rumors were not that far from the truth. Because he was a mistress's son, an existence that is one level up from being a love child.

Due to him attending hospitals instead of school, he was almost like an uncivilized man who is not yet fully socialized. When he came back to Korea in that state, Taewoong was 18. Amidst the thorough indifference, Taewoong was devastated. They let me in the house, and what they wanted from me was to "just stay alive." If need be, Father would probably use me to protect the things that my half brother and sister built up. He was so lonely, it felt like he had to sulk up and cry in a Dom Pérignon champagne bath that cost a billion won. What did he expect? Whether in Korea or in the US, there's nothing different.

Since his lineal relatives ignore him for being a mistress's son, he was treated as an invisible person by his collateral relatives*. Except for his half sister Dan-ah.

Dan-ah at least hated Taewoong. To the point that she had to pay him a hospital visit in the US. He felt happy about that. He learned that he has to do things Dan-ah hates to attract her attention; and while doing those, it became the joy in his life. People would probably say I'm crooked and twisted if they see me. That I'm a pervert masochistic scumbag lout. He didn't even wish for love. He just wanted to receive at least some attention. That thirst made him turn his gaze towards becoming an idol.

Don't disregard the ten-year hospital experience of the recognized "pediatric ward idol." Among the careers which one can have even without a diploma, being an idol is the one that received the least prejudice. Taewoong, who became the eldest member of AtoZ (when he doesn't even know how to do anything), possesses a great amount of fans due to his confident attitude and a personality that doesn't hold back. To be honest, they're probably all after his looks, but that's sufficient. He didn't become an idol because of music anyway. The feeling of receiving love—he thought it would be enough. Forgetting that he's best friends with despair.

In society, Taewoong is Voldemort. Only people close to him know of his existence, and they don't reveal it recklessly. People who like the idol Seo Taewoong are all over the world, but among the people who know the human Seo Taewoong, not even one likes him. There are dozens of languages around the world saying they love Taewoong, but one corner of his heart feels endlessly empty.

* Lineal relatives refers to the relatives you directly descended from and the relatives who directly descended from you (ex. grandparents, parents, children, grandchildren). Collateral relatives refers to any blood relatives who are not your direct ancestors or descendants (ex. siblings, uncles, aunts, cousins, etc.).

Jeong Jihyun (Male, early 30s) Dan-ah's Chief Secretary

Unlike his stern appearance, he is a humane person who pursues what's right and knows how to embrace the weak. He may totally look like a gangster to people who meet him for the first time, but he's actually a law school graduate.

His connection with Seomyung Group began when he became the private tutor of Taewoong, who was in exile in the US. Dan-ah began to keep an eye on him since then and scouted him the moment he finished attending the Judicial Research and Training Institute, telling him that suits suit him better than judge's robes do. Dan-ah needed a my person who is smart, and Jihyun had no big intentions in becoming a judicial officer.

He's a kind man who does his best in the work given to him and puts his heart into performing even the tasks not given to him at times.

Seo Myeongmin (Male, 31) Executive Director of Seomyung Group

He's the eldest son and mistress's child of Seomyung Group, born 10 months later than Dan-ah. As a wimpy person of poor caliber, he's struggling in order to not be pushed back in the line of succession, but he's in a state of having back-and-forth turnovers with Dan-ah.

Being a mistress's son himself, just because his birth mom is on the family register, he despises and looks down on the comparative (?) mistress's son Taewoong. Taewoong is basically his sandbag for releasing the inferiority he feels because of Dan-ah. He's from an Ivy League, but he does more harm than good because he's the type to do things following his heart rather than his mind. He's the type that has no in between—whenever he touches a business, it either hits a jackpot or bankruptcy.

*T/N: The question mark behind "comparative" was part of the original text.

Dong Kyung (Female, 43) Director and Agent in Dann Agency

Her intuitions are good, and her capabilities are even better. She's born with a keen eye for people. She can tell who will make it and who won't like a fortuneteller; but for her husband, she chose a man who won't make it. If she were to give an excuse, she was too young and blinded by love. What's fortunate among the unfortunate is, she realized early on that she chose the wrong husband and broke it off.

Mom, do you regret having me? Her son Yejoon once asked her. Dong Kyung couldn't answer. When she first had Yejoon at 21, she put the baby apart and went to school, even finishing her masters— that's the answer. It felt like her moment of regret had been discovered. She tried hard to replace that guilt with motherly love.

A career woman during weekdays, a camper during Saturdays, a butler who regularly attends worship service in Sunday afternoons. And a mom who has to love her children despite this busy schedule. Dong Kyung is too busy that she's in the dark. About the fact that she's overlooking the most important thing.

Lucian (Male, 24) Leader of boy group AtoZ

A third generation overseas Chinese, he's the spiritual eldest member of the multinational boy group AtoZ. That's because Taewoong, who's the actual eldest, doesn't know how to do anything aside from being pretty. His nickname is Lu. Because he's a quite well-known underground rapper who became an idol midway, he often gets attacked in the hip hop scene. When he's with Taewoong, who came from the US, they feel more comfortable speaking English with each other. He takes on the task of taking care of Taewoong's obstinate snobbishness. He's a man who receives love from fans for his easygoing and gentle image.

(orig post link from writer Park Shihyun’s DC gallery post)

[courtorderedcake]

Majestically Too Far Beyond : CSSNS 2020

It’s finally here! Yaaaay! Here’s my @cssns​ for 2020, Majestically Too Far Beyond, title based on the Poem written by Komal Kapoor. You can read my explanation of how this mess all got started Here. Art is by @kmomof4​ and I threw in some too for fun. 

Summary :  Emma Swan has never been that type of girl, you know, the one that cries and sinks into a pint of ice cream after a break-up. She's never ever cared about anyone other than completely out of survival, but then came Neal, and then came the final big break up with someone maybe she sort of kind of loved. So now she is one of those girls who are homeless, living with her adopted brother and his wife at their farm in a long abandoned Victorian keeper's home, desperately trying to save to get her own place while working her difficult government job and as a merc witch on the side.  When a desperate Witch calls on her to do a spell, it's all bad news - but then said Witch revealed a mountain of gold coins, and whimpered that Emma is her only hope. How can she not be a bad ass magic savior for this poor soul? All seems to be well, until the consequences are suddenly very real.  Killian may be a Demon, a fallen Angel that now delights in the practice of revenge, but first and foremost he's a gentleman. Sort of.  Especially when his ruddy Angel brother is focused on bureaucracy and keeping mankind out of chaos, while Killian barely keeps his denizens as safe as he can in a world that wants Demons dead. Witches and Warlocks use them for parts, Werewolves see them as a threat, Angels mostly still hold on to the ancient feud regardless of their treatise, Fae stay chaotic neutral, Vampires don't care for others affairs - it's a perilous world where hate crimes happen without consequence. When Killian goes above to plead for more safety laws in the metropolis of Hyperion Hills, the city that lies over a major portal to hell, he does not expect to meet a council that the elemental five sit on. He especially doesn't expect that the council would ever take him seriously in his campaign for demon safety. Regina, Snow, Ariel, Elsa, and Belle seem dead set on making it their pet project - each for their own very different reasons. Especially when they bring up hiring a tempestuous security consultant, Emma Swan. When they adjourn, he can say that he is optimistically apprehensive. An optimistic Demon never leads to good things, unless by good things you mean throwing back rum while chasing a pretty woman for plundering. He's unsure of what to expect when challenged to do shot for shot by a mysterious blonde Witch, who didn't care who (or what) he is, but he does like a challenge. Too much in fact, the challenge raising the stakes, because from there on it becomes a blur, and yeah, he's bloody well in it now. The idea of a contract sounds fantastic when they stumbled into the strange tower, half naked and wanting. It's the ritual she does instead that he should have been paying attention to. So, maybe now he's missing a hand, and has only the vaguest idea of what happened from the mess of blood he's woken up to, his and someone else's, a mirror's accursed magic the only thing to tell him what took place: he's a prisoner until someone lets him free… And a woman that he’s positive did not exist in his life yesterday, who just happens to not only be a Witch but a complete stranger, is pregnant with his child. 

Rated E, but really falls in at more of a M. Fluffy angst with some adult themes and hinted undertones.  READ ON AO3 HERE.

Chapter 1 - Long ago, eclipses were feared as well:

To say that the Jones 'Brothers' had been fighting since time began, was not an understatement, but also not exactly truthful. They had actually been fighting before recorded time, and before there was even a concept of the perception of anything besides the aether or eternity.

That's why he'd fallen, actually. Loss was a powerful motivation, enough even to question the utmost Authority - and the Authority despised questioning. Fighting was in the nature of the divine Celestials, as it seemed, and in Her infinite curiosity that She defined as 'Wisdom', God had let Lucifer burn too brightly. Their war was a lover's jealous quarrel turned violent. 

Although Liam was created moments before Killian, they were brothers (as it were) even amongst a host of angels, and they were close regardless of their stubborn spats. They fought over the world and its workings, Liam given a flaming sword while Killian was given books. They fought over knowledge of the divine arts, arguing whether humans were worthy of the Arcane. They fought over Killian's love of a mortal woman, and his questioning of commandments. 

They fought over Killian standing behind Lucifer, and Liam fought Killian right before he fell. In some ways, it was Liam's own hand that pushed Killian, but in his last angelic act, Killian forgave his brother. 

While Earthborne and some remnant Angels believed Demons were not capable of love, they were of course wrong. Demons loved, lost, and forgave just as any others. Even after the schism, even after years of passive aggressive pettiness between both sides, Demons were still seen as wayward, dark, demented creatures. Angels had done little to fight this stereotype, instead reveling in their continued status as goodwill ambassadors. 

Even their name amongst mortals was a cosmic joke, the Creator and her lover-made-antagonist too long gone to bother with proper names. They were Angels or Demons to some cultures as humans grew on God's abandoned project, while others called them by their new names. 

The Angel Diana was called a Goddess alongside Hecate, Freya, Gabriel, Uriel, and many others. The Demons Zeus, Odin, Loki, Hades, and Poseidon happily took on roles that suited their carnal needs. Angels mixed with mortals along with Demons, God's secret seeds of elemental magics taking life along beside them as Druids, Fae, and Elementals.  Some of the Celestials even birthed life as their lost parents had, Demons begetting Demons, Angels begetting Angels, and everything or anything in between. 

Humans gained magical prowess as the world changed, Witches, Druids, Warlocks, Mortismals, and Mesmerels becoming the norm for human bloodlines. 

Still, Demons were given less, all because God had cursed them irrevocably before disappearing with Lucifer into the abyss. They were cellularly different now than any of the Angels they had once been, a yoke around their neck that they could be forced to obey. Like Angels, they could be worshipped, called, trapped, or contracted even as their powers and bodies twisted into the curse stained strangeness God graced them with. They were looked on with disgust, pity, horror, and anger for it despite their best attempts.

Which was why his sodding Ponce of a brother working as an Angel ambassador for a Prince of Hell was so important - and so bloody frustrating. 

It wasn't as if being a Prince of Hell wasn't stressful enough - his people always under siege or afraid of some Witch summoning them to place a brand, then using them as a charcuterie board - no. It was that his brother was a baked potato when it came to convincing the public they were not what millennia of ingrained hatred had established Demons as. 

Bosch had died before Killian could uppercut him, regardless of his depiction of Liam as a trumpeting ferret bird or the even less flattering version of Killian. Dante had been another great PR stunt his brother had botched miserably. The Rings of Hell weren't even used, Lucifer gone before he could put God's plans for punishment into place. Now as a museum and reenactment park, it was a popular attraction that helped generate funds for the denizens that lived in the spacial plane that surrounded it, but Dante's review had been swayed by Liam taking him into The Kingdom right after. How could Hell ever live up to the paradise God herself had planned for humans? Only Cedar Point, Busch Gardens, Disney, or Universal Studios could come close as far as themed parks. It was a complete disaster. 

This newest idea of Killian sitting on the board of Hyperion Heights to work with the world's premier intersectional coven, 'StoryBrooke', was another terrible idea in the making, and Killian had no qualms letting his brother know it.

"This is absolutely ridiculous Liam," Killian gritted out, itching under the glamor that made him look mortal. Being confined in a skin suit had his molecules vibrating so loudly he could hear his canines, starlight and cosmic fire sending pinpricks of goose flesh down the dark hairs of his arms and legs. Wearing this was torture enough without Liam staring at him in disdain, his own heavenly image unblemished. Even his halo was a polished gold around his fat head. "While I am a dashing rapscallion in my original skin, don't you think it's bad form for them to see me like this instead of how I actually look? Isn't the point of this to show that even if we're not as pretty as your lot, we're still beings that deserve respect?"

Liam grunted, rolling his eyes. Blue fire from explosions of stars and galaxies lit in mirrors of Killian's own, but framed by rosy cheeks and tawny curls instead of moving shadow, a ghoulish pallor, and dark hair the color of ink or raven's feather. The Angelic glamor contained the haze of darkness that moved like smoke around him, the length of his fingers and claws, and made his flesh look pale but not tinted the color of the universe's light. It did not hide his horns (remnants of shattered halo) or his twitching tail if someone chose to leave eyes on him too long, but that was another Demonic burden to bear. 

"First impressions, little brother. Even the most progressive Witch is still a Witch. I'd rather them see you like this instead of wondering if you truly need all your giblets."

Killian swallowed hard, nodding once before grumbling, "Younger brother. Younger."

"Go over your notes again. You'll need to be your nauseatingly charming self for this, especially if they bring the males in their midst," Liam asked of him, and Killian looked out the dark windows of the car as his tail moved in agitation. 

"Regina. Head of the Coven, Witch and Mortismal that inherited her throne from her mother. Began the integration method and broke away from the Misthaven Coven to create the StoryBrooke one," Killian intoned. 

"Right. She's a tough nut too, and her ghosts do the most of her dirty work. She's not someone to cross unless you want your chairs stacked to the ceiling every morning by some bloody poltergeist." 

"Aw, well, I'm unfortunately haunted by you already, I doubt a poltergeist could do more damage." Killian slanted a look at his brother, who gave an annoyed huff as his pure white feathers ruffled. Killian was thankful in part that he did not have wings at all times, even if the trade off was painful. "While Regina is the head of the Coven, the head of the Council is Elsa Frost of the Frost twins. She's a direct descendant of the Giant Ice Sorceresses with powerful magic, but her passion is creating legislation for Hyperion Heights. Her sister Anna is the family's public relations face, and runs their fashion empire, Arendelle Designs with her Druid husband."

"Good. Good, tell me about Ariel Poisson."

"Siren and Mermaid, with four years on the council. Made history as the first water Elemental to sit on the council, beating the long seated Witch, Ursula, by a large margin. Opponents argue that her father's position as King of the seas and his dominion over fair weather and fishing made voters nervous to not cast ballots for her. Her campaign slogan was 'Part of your World', which could be beneficial to my campaign." 

"Right. Snow Blanchard?" 

"Would-be heir to the Misthaven Coven who ended its elitist reign by breaking tradition and leaving, sending them into chaos." Killian smirked. "She sounds like someone who I could get along with."

"She gets along with everyone except her family, which is more than normal it would seem," Liam replied back, and Killian snorted out a chuckle. 

"Druid, Elf, and Green Witch. Runs a high profile herbal apothecary chain Enchanted Forest Supplies, focused on holistic medicinals, herbs, and spices. Nolan Farms is a subsidiary that sells produce to the Heights, which is her husband's 'pet' project."

"Watch yourself, brother," Liam warned. "While you might get away with that if it's just the Witches, if David and Ruby sit in today you'll find that will not stand."

"Ah, yes. Ruby Reddings and David 'Charming' Nolan. You only circled that they are Werewolves in red ink everywhere you could. David is Snow's husband, and her lead farm hand. Ruby is Snow's cousin who introduced the two. Ruby is currently in a high profile relationship with your colleague, Inspector Wolfe, and they both are very active in pack politics. Many are betting they will create their own pack if the current Alphas do not abandon some of the more ancient doctrines. Nothing new there."

"Don't forget Livre and Fa."

"Belle Livre, Witch turned Vampire, runs a community literacy foundation and bookstore chain. Known ally to Demon rights. Soft spoken but brutally intelligent. Introduced a synthetic blood that allows for daytime living via plant cells collaborating with Enchanted Forest, which made history 6 years ago," Killian listed. "Mulan Fa, Vampire. Cultural Development head of the Heights, and curator of The Hyperion Heights Museum of Art, History, Science, and Culture. Teaches part time at Hyperion Heights University as an adjunct professor. Fa is married to a Fae Elf, Merida Ursa."

"Good. That's as far as we know besides the whole Swan fiasco, which is not to be brought up."

"What Swan fiasco?" 

"Oh, little brother. If you had done your research outside of the profiles I gave you, you would know all about the criminal history of the black and heartless sheep within the Misthaven and StoryBrooke covens. It's better off that you don't know."

"Er. Well. Alright. I didn't look into them because I don't bloody well care about their lots as long as we get protection. There was another slaying this weekend. A Lower Demon."

"I'm aware. Did you know her?" 

"Not really, but that's not enough either. I owe my people more. The other Lords of Hell are fine telling Demons to stay below and never use their name, which is fine for the new blood. It's the old, the weak, and the abused that are at risk."

"Careful, Killian. Your lust for vengeance will never be welcomed by mortals."

"I'm well aware Liam. They like my kind for an entirely different kind of lust."

"Could you please not." Liam sighed, sitting back against the seat. After a moment, his brother spoke quietly. "There was another attack as well, this time in broad daylight in Camelot Town. The Anti-Integration Movement has claimed responsibility."

"Of bloody course they have!" Killian hissed, clenching his fists. He pinched the bridge of his nose, grimacing. "Brilliant. Just absolutely marvelous -" 

"They were going to run a story in the Times. I managed to block it for now, but we need a sympathetic writer on the inside, or we risk them running another story with their bias."

"I have a guy. I'll reach out, he's an old school Warlock who I've worked with in the past on push back. What's their excuse this time?" 

"They said that the Succubus was, quote, 'asking for it by the way she was dressed'."

Nausea rose in Killian's throat, and he swallowed it down with bitter practice. "I wasn't aware that how someone dressed meant their lives were not only void, but taking pieces of them was fine as well."

"We know they're being funded well, and we will get arrests as soon as possible. This won't be forever, Killian."

"That's easy for you to promise when this has been my - our forever." Killian bit out, glaring at his feet.

The car came to a stop, the driver opening the door to let them out. Killian moved briskly up the steps of the council building, as Liam followed behind. They moved through the lobby with an easy flash of Liam's ID that Killian scoffed at, moving into the elevator. 

"After that display, I'm going drinking after this," Killian gritted through his teeth. 

Liam blinked, straightening his tie in the door's polished reflection. "What display? They were nice."

"Exactly. If I came here alone, I would have been in that security line for an hour." 

Liam rolled his eyes, taking down his halo to polish the golden ring. "You absolutely exaggerate how you're treated. Not everyone is out to get you, especially when you look like this. Give others a break."

"I'll give myself a break after this with as much rum as I can safely consume, instead."

The doors pinged open to reveal a small atrium, dark wood flooring in stark contrast to the birch tree covered walls. A secretary stood behind a rounded desk against the far wall, motioning for them to sit. 

"They'll be with you in a moment," she offered, glancing at them with a thin smile. Killian could practically taste her distrust as he scratched behind his ear. Liam swatted at him lightly in a bid to get him to stop, both of them tense when the doors finally opened to reveal a petite woman dressed in a powder blue skirt and blazer. 

"Come in gentleman. The council will see you now." She smiled icily. His brother stood, his feathers slightly puffed in an indication of his own nervousness. 

Killian followed a second later, walking with them as they made forced, but pleasant conversation all the way into the boardroom. 

Women sat at a long table that curved slightly, facing their own small table similar to a courtroom. He was reminded of the tribunals in the old days when law had begun, but the courtiers were far different than the strange group of women scrutinizing them. 

To his surprise, the majority of them seemed actually curious instead of repulsed or bored. 

"The council recognizes Liam Jones and Killian… Jones. These are your chosen surnames, correct? And you identify as… brothers?" 

"Yes," Liam stated firmly with a curt nod. Killian watched from his peripheral as his shoulder muscles twitched, his wings held stiffly upright to keep them from the floor. 

Killian nodded, careful to keep his tail curled around his legs. The skin suit itched as it clung to him, not abated by his attempt to sit more casually. 

"Interesting," remarked the dark haired witch at the far right. A nameplate sat in front of her, marking her as Regina. He wondered idly if her stare was due to the blood on his hands only an eternal existence could bring. 

"You are here to ask for help in creating safety measures and a potential council commitment to Demon rights, correct?" Ariel, a fiery haired lass with a heart face, asked. 

"Our major point of concern is the influx of hate groups that seem to fall in line with smuggling operations and planned violence," Killian said slowly. Attention snapped to him, and he brought up the slide presentation he had prepared. "We have had some luck stopping shipments and arresting bit players, but we can't find the heads of these operations."

"You can't find them, or you are barred from digging deeper?" Mulan asked, and he chuckled darkly. 

"The latter, I'm afraid. We have consistently come to the same dead end again and again. I'm sure I don't have to explain to you ladies how difficult a foe powerful covens behind corporate entities are." He let a grimace creep onto his face, and saw the majority of the women nod in acknowledgement. 

"This could make many enemies for us, if approached in the wrong way." Belle stated quietly. "Specifically with our good friends in the Storybrooke Coven."

Snow nodded, exchanging a bitter look with her. "We may need a professional from our coven, but she's unable to get clearance without special notation."

"Oh? Who is this?" Liam asked. 

Elsa and the rest of the coven smiled in varying degrees of fondness. "The best in the business, and in my Coven. If you need to find someone, Emma Swan can always find them, and she's good at criminal magical activities. She knows the system, knows how and where to hide, and where to seek."

They'd found what the coven wanted, and their stake in the venture. Killian caught Liam's face falling, his eyes narrowing into slits. 

"You can't be serious. Involving Swan in this after -" 

"That was all a misunderstanding, and was blown completely out of proportion. We have long held up our end of the blame and accountability, while Misthaven has shirked theirs in the name of slandering her." Elsa steepled her fingers. "If you desire the best, which I assume is why you are here, you need to rehab not only Demons’ image, but hers as well. She should be sitting here with us."

Liam tried in vain to tip the scale back in their favor, his face going red. "We'll consider this as part of our negotiations."

"Negotiations? Liam, you are a detective. You should have deduced by now that you have no leverage. You have only decisions to make." Regina closed her planner, regarding them with her dark gaze. "So, make them quickly, before our patience wanes."

Killian bit back a laugh at Liam’s sudden blustered stuttering. These witches were good, and as the meeting ran on for hours he realized just how much liquor he would need to recover. 

 "Well that went well." 

Liam’s sour expression and slumped shoulders were just visible in his peripheral, even as his feathers were still quite literally ruffled. He huffed out a noise of disapproval, too vexed to even reply back. 

"Aye to that, brother." Licking his lips, they stepped into the cool dusk air. "I'm going for that drink, are you…?" Killian glanced at Liam, who shook his head with annoyance. 

"Seriously? You really -" 

"Really shouldn't what Liam?" Killian smiled, venom leaking into his tone. "Go get drunk in a town that would rather pretend I don't exist or sell me in a fine powder to the nearest bidder? I think I'll be okay, although the concern is duly noted."

He turned on his heel, his glamor falling away in a puff of smoke. The air hit his itchy, overheated skin, his tail whipping around in sharp, agitated flicks. 

"Take care of yourself, little brother! No need to be a self destructive bastard. We lost a battle, not the war!" Liam called after him, stepping into his sleek car. Killian snorted. 

Hailing a cab with some difficulty, the driver asked where he was headed with the same slight resignation he was used to for his kind. 

"A bar, Demon friendly please. Some place without swill."

The driver nodded, dropping him at a dimly lit corner of the city. A red neon sign spread crimson light along the sidewalk, soft light also spilling out the doors accompanied by loud guitar. Looking up, the looping, swirled lettering made him smirk. 'The Jealous Flask' was as good a place as any in his neck of the underworld woods. 

The inside was smoky, deep red damask wallpaper paired with dark, pitch stained wood panels, booths, and bartop. The liquor selection was displayed neatly, unlike the few early patrons sitting scattered around. The jukebox played warbly rock music, some punchy chords and an easy to memorize refrain. 

'one two three four, can I have a little more, five six seven eight nine ten, I love you' 

The bar stools were empty, and Killian slung himself onto one, the bartender nodding his head by way of a greeting. 

"Rum, neat," Killian stated, pointing to his preferred vice. The bartender did not stop polishing the glass in his hand, but the bottle floated down gently, pouring itself into a tumbler before the glass set itself down in front of Killian. "Thanks, mate."

The bartender nodded again, continuing his work with the aid of his magic. People began to trickle in as the time ticked forward, a witch or two eyeing him suspiciously, vampires playing pool in the front, a group of young werewolves forcing change into the jukebox to get edgier music playing through the speaker system. The Clash crooned out words against the Fae Queen ruling over greater Eld, the pack jumping around excitedly and thrashing their heads back and forth. By this time Killian had moved to the far curve of the bar, his glass refilled to the point of the bottle sitting next to him like a patient date. There were still no other Demons in his presence. It shouldn't have surprised him, shouldn't have even made him angry with the amount of violence they were privy to, but he burned away the emotions with the alcohol flowing down his throat. 

A soft touch on his shoulder caught his attention, and he turned with a growl. It died in his throat when large eyes met his, blonde curls falling in front of her eyes in loose tendrils. 

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," she stammered, biting her lip. Pointing to a drink that was clearly not his, umbrella and all, she continued. "I was trying to reach my drink. It’s gotten crowded and I thought, I mean, I am sorry I wasn't trying to -" 

"Aye." He nodded, throwing back his drink. "S'alright lass. I'm sorry, I s'pose I'm just a bit out of place here."

She smiled, blushing. "Yeah, I uh, I get that. I haven't seen you around before."

"First time here. I was in the neighborhood for business." He poured himself more, and to his surprise she pushed and elbowed her way to sit next to him. 

"Business?" Her eyes were curious while her fingers toyed with the umbrella in her drink. "Should I be concerned?" 

It was clearly teasing, and Killian felt himself loosening up around her. She seemed to read him well, or at least the alcohol was working. "Not any of the good kind, I'm afraid." He grinned with a wink. 

"Ah, so we're just ships passing in the night?" She leaned in and he could smell the floral and herbal scent of her, her eyelashes batting coquettishly as she sipped her drink in his space. 

"Passing closely, I hope," he murmured. His heart raced; it had been ages since any mortal had shown interest in him that was mutual. 

His head spun as she met him drink for drink, hand unsubtly creeping higher up his hip. 

"Would you be opposed to… Maybe, I don't know… getting out of here?" 

"Are you saying you would fancy a nightcap, lass?" She smiled from under her lashes while biting her lip, and his heated blood grew hotter. 

"Perhaps." She stood with grace as she extended a hand to him. "My place is a quick and easy teleportation spell away from here, and my bed doesn't require any sort of magic outside of what I can do with my tongue." 

Killian hesitated, her golden hair in the glow of the lights making her seem to shimmer. "I don't even know your name -" 

"Eloise. It's Eloise." She pulled him up, letting him stumble into her body. Her lips met his, and soon he was pulling her closer as their mouths slanted across one another's in hunger. She bit his lip and he felt the tightness that had bloomed in his belly spread fire down his spine. 

"Lead the way, love," he whispered huskily, grinding into her. 

She smiled broadly, the world shifting until he was in her dimly lit home. A lone window twinkled starlight, moon huge outside as it hung in the sky. Her tongue slid past his lips, the bitter herbal taste overwhelming while the world shifted again, this time pulling him apart. 

 In a perfect world, Emma Swan would not be doing anything remotely close to what she was currently debating doing. It truly wasn't her fault; it fell on Neal and his stupid family if anyone was to blame, and his stupid coven with their stupid leader. She should have known back then it had been a set up, should have known that Neal was a fucking liar. How many times did the same drawn out plot have to play out? Apparently, too many, considering she had still warmed his bed until a week ago. 

This time it was final. Emma wouldn't accept him back when Neal slithered out from under the rock he had his affair in. She wouldn't be charmed by his smooth talking silver tongue, and if he so much as breathed near her, she would take another five years for breaking his smarmy Fae nose. Final. It had to be final. 

But finality meant certain conditions had to be met, especially if she was to ward him away. For one, the beautiful loft that belonged to Neal in the Heights downtown could definitely not be her base of operations any more. Neither could the various in between places she found where Emma could grieve until he took her back, damaged goods and all. No more hotel rooms, no more abandoned apartments, no more warehouses, vacation rentals, or quiet empty offices. She had to get her own place, and it had to be able to handle her particularly finicky magic. Neal's place wasn't great for her particular practice, but the view had been killer enough to ignore it. Neal's fortune had meant she didn't need to work, and with her record (or, as his coven would sneer, 'notoriety') that was just as well. 

Working added a wrinkle to her life; she would have to find somewhere that allowed her enough space for her magic to keep her employed. That would require a hefty chunk of gold - if she was lucky. The prices in the downtown area were steep, only high profile Witches, Warlocks, Fae, and Celestials could afford accommodation that close to the capitol buildings and Ley Lines. Initially when Emma had glanced through the apartment listings on the bulletin board, she had almost had a panic attack at the amount of gold they demanded. 

Her brother David, blessings be, had been her knight in shining armor. There was a large Victorian home that lay in shambles at the edge of their farm lands, its beautiful scalloped details in need of paint, and the gutters growing weeds as thick as her forearm. But, it was within her budget if she could get the down payment placed before the scheduled demolition. She put what she had down to stall as much as she could, but it was not enough in the least. 

One big job was all she needed. One big job that she could cash out on. A dip of her toes back into the waters of peddling illegal magic, just quickly in and out without a splash. 

She didn't need any more jail time, that was for certain. 

Putting out the word she was available in the whisper market was always dangerous, but listening in was free and without a snag if you were smart. 

Emma heard tell of a desperate woman willing to give a truckload full of gold to the right Witch who could perform delicate, esoteric, deeply Arcane and forbidden magics. Luckily for both of them, that's what Emma excelled at. 

She had always been good at her craft, and her magical workings were beyond powerful. She could do things that other practitioners only dared to dream of, if they could even conceive it. It was why Neal had kept her around, and why his coven's dislike would melt away if she said she would consider joining. 

(If she did that around Yulesmas for better gifts, was it really so bad?) 

The request itself was intriguing, the woman herself a Witch that could not do the spell alone. She wanted an equivalent exchange of unbreakable magical bonds, which while tricky, was not forbidden in most circumstances. The offer was too good to pass up on, but Emma didn't like leaving things to complete chance. 

Cue her sister-in-law, Snow. If anyone could throw runes, read the winds, divine from the mundane, and not keep any of it a fucking secret, it was Snow. 

Emma knocked on their cheery red door in the early morning, which must have been a surprise to Snow considering she was half dressed in business wear. She pulled up her stockings in a one footed hop, motioning for Emma to come in as she balanced the phone receiver against her neck. The coiled cord spun around her, and she groaned loudly. 

"Yes, Regina, I know. I'll be there, I'm literally - it's 2 hours away. I will be there in thirty minutes at latest, but - Well, yes, Emma just walked in." Snow gestured at a chair, and Emma sat, looking at her with an eyebrow raised. "Yes, I know it's early for her. I know. Uh huh. Yes. We will definitely put her on the table; it's absurd not to, considering - yes, I would love to talk to you about this in person as I've said - alright. Yes. Okay then, buh-bye." 

Sighing, Snow twirled, untwisting herself from the phone cord. She smoothed down her pencil skirt and blouse before looking straight at Emma with a curious stare. Her mouth twitched with annoyance as she spoke. 

"Now. To what do I owe the pleasure? I have a meeting with Celestials shortly, so." She waved a hand indicating the clock in the background. Turning to the counter, she opened up a cookie jar and removed a rolled cannabis cigarette, putting it between her lips and lighting it. 

Emma swallowed, watching the petite woman slide the purple lighter back in its space on their counter. "I just need you to divine something for me. A situation, with a woman who wants me to… to uh, do something."

Snow rolled her eyes, narrowing them to glare at Emma. "We are bringing you up as collateral in our meeting today, trying to get you a seat where you belong - on the council," Snow hissed. She pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a breath. 

"Please?" Emma asked innocently, batting her eyelashes for good measure. 

Snow sighed. "Alright. Picture the situation and the woman."

Emma focused on the description, the spellwork requested, the woman's pleas. She could feel Snow's magic engulf her, and the fuzziness that came with it as she wove threads out into the natural universe, time and space sending her back answers. 

A moment passed, and the feeling abruptly stopped as Snow shook her head. 

"This doesn't feel right," Snow said, taking a drag of her blunt. She exhaled, the thick smoke swirling into the shape of birds that dove through the air. Emma coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. "That woman… I don't know. She feels off."

Emma frowned, petulant that the answer was negative. "She's a Witch, and in trouble." 

"Have you rolled your runes?" Snow began to pull on her loafers, gathering her things. 

Emma chewed her lip. She had divined, or tried to, but had not found a concrete result. "Yeah, and they said it's… Questionable, but the end result leaves all parties happy. Tarot said basically the same thing."

Snow let out a little twittering laugh, pulling her purse up on her shoulder. "And how does Neal feel about it?"

"Neal doesn't need to feel any way about it. I… We… I broke it off." Emma looked at her shoes, then idly inspected the counters formica. "Forever this time." 

"Oh. Is that why you're here so early?" Snow's eyes went wide, a hand covering her mouth. "Oh, Emma, honey. I'm so sorry, I've just been under so much stress with Regina and this council. Wait, where are you staying? Oh no - are you homeless!? You mean it, you're never going back to that creep?"

"Never," Emma said firmly, even as her voice caught. "I'll find a place though, Snow. Don't worry." 

"So you are homeless, oh Emma, if I wasn't late - no. No. You know, I'll call Regina and cancel it, you need me more than -" 

"No, well, I mean -" Emma shook her head. "No. I'll stay here tonight if I have to, but you need to get to your meeting. I don't need Regina's wrath on top of everything else."

"You know you can stay here with us as long as you need, oh, Emma, I wish you had told me -" 

"I don't want to stay here. I can't work here, and I love you guys but you both are gross with your lovey dovey hippie -" 

"I get it, I get it." Snow grimaced. 

"So yeah, I need the money. I can't stay here, I need my own place… I put a tiny deposit on that Victorian down the road, but I need the full down payment to keep it." Emma shrugged. 

"The house at the --- Emma, that place is a breeze away from being condemned!" 

"No it's not," Emma groaned, rubbing her temple. "It's got good bones, and character. It just needs some… help."

"Well. I mean…" Snow hesitated, heading towards the door, as Emma followed. "Alright then. I'm just warning you, I get a terrible vibe from that woman and I could cancel this today, we could work out a plan. We have the money from the harvest. You could work for us or with David and help us with the roll outs in exchange for a loan. I'm organized, but the help would be appreciated if you're living so close… especially since I'm making sure that house is safely remodeled for you. I don't want you to end up with the roof falling on you or some gas line exploding." 

"You worry way too much, Snow."

"I hear the future through nature, and it's generally terrifying. Nature is terrifying. Excuse me for being cautious, and wanting to help you out."

Emma laughed as they walked out the door together, Snow rummaging in her bag for lipstick which she quickly applied. "Yeah well, you're also smoking weed so potent it could put an elephant to sleep. I don't want a loan from you."

"I'm not an elephant, Em. I'm an Elf. It'll take more than this to knock me on my ass." She smiled, extending a hand to squeeze Emma's shoulder. "Be careful, okay? No repeats."

"That wasn't -" Emma protested, but Snow cut her off with a sharp look. "Yeah, alright. 

"Good. I'll see you tonight, you're coming for dinner. No buts." Snow grinned, before disappearing with a puff of periwinkle smoke. 

Emma groaned, kicking dirt as she stalked away towards her new potential home. 

 In the final days before moving from the small basement apartment Emma rented, the dingy, unused, bare studio finally found some decoration in chalk outlines, herbs, and a large bubbling cauldron. It hadn't ever been a home or remotely close to one when Neal presented a better option, the bed untouched and unmade. It reminded Emma more of her prison cell than anything else, which offered a strange duality of comfort mixed with dread. It was fitting that she would meet to do this ritual here. 

Gothel arrived promptly for their 10 am arranged meeting in a well worn taupe cloak. She looked as desperate as the correspondences between them indicated, but Emma resolved to get this over with as quickly as possible. They shared a nod in the form of hellos, then Emma pointed to the cauldron.

"Let's begin, shall we?" Emma asked, and Gothel drew back her cloak to reveal her tired and gaunt looking face. 

"Yes. Let's. Your payment, with more upon completion." Gothel dropped a large purse on the counter, Emma immediately grabbing it and checking the contents. It was real, her heart soaring as she shoved it in her bag. 

"So, you are to give me a token of your will, usually blood, an animal you raised, or something that's valuable to you . Something you care about, that you are tied to that a severing will make you -"

"I give you the life of my first child," Gothel interrupted. 

Emma's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh." Biting her lip, she brushed back her braid. "That's… That's super Illegal. I…" 

"You wanted something heavy, you got it. There's a reason why I came to you; you have a reputation for doing things quietly. The reason you chose me is because you need the coin. Now, my terms. I know you provide healing. I want to keep myself young and strong - youthful immortality. Grant me this." The grin on her face unsettled Emma, Snow's warning in her mind. Nevertheless, the satchel of gold meant a secured home.

"Um. Alright. Are you sure, the life of your firstborn? That's a ways off, and the strength won't happen until -" 

"Do it. Do it now, I know the spell will be enacted when payment is due. I'm well studied - Breaking a bond with a child, specifically your first, will grant me the power I need. I know that I can't do this spell myself either, so here I am."

Emma gulped. "Okay. Let me get the texts."

Emma returned with her copper cauldron, pile of books, and spell components. Gothel's grin grew wider, her eyes gleaming at the sight of the tongues, eyes, crushed butterflies, and other more macabre ingredients the spell required. 

Feeling a low tug in her gut that something was wrong, Emma backed away from the altar. The other Witch seemed to shimmer, slightly in alarm, a glamor of some sort possibly covering her skin. Feeling even more unsettled, Emma shook her head. 

"I can't do this, listen -" 

"Please. Please you must, I need this to escape a curse. It's blood magic, almost unbreakable and impossible to escape on my own. Please." Emma heard no lies in her speech. "I admit that I have not been entirely truthful. While I was able to send you the gold easily, I am trapped, held against my will. I can only project myself to you. I was afraid to tell you, because I am desperate to rid myself of this curse." When no lies continued to register, Emma felt a deep sense of pity for the other witch. A blood magic binding was no joke; someone truly must have hated the poor woman. 

"Fine," Emma said, throwing her hands up. Gothel perked up slightly, hope in her eyes. Throwing the ingredients in the cauldron, a shimmering mist roiled over the edge as she spoke ancient words and stirred in the shape of long unused runes. Adding bones that melted in soapy bubbles and stirring with a long Pegasus feather that gradually turned to ash, she looked up at Gothel, who was wringing her hands anxiously.

"Your tokens?" Emma asked. 

Gothel waved a hand over the stained cloth; several of the woman's teeth, a long braid of her hair, and a large chunk of skin fell into the cauldron. The cauldron's contents began to boil, smoke curling in darkened serpentine tangles. 

Emma began the words, Latin, Arameric, the old tongue of the Pagans, Celtic, remnants of Gaul, flowing them together until speaking plainly to her own magic. 

"Blood of one that is two, child, mother, 

Blood of my own, tear them asunder, 

Thicker than wine, thicker than water, 

Ties that bind, bound to another, 

The womb that grows life, 

Kin cared for in kind, 

A payment for power, 

Remake the ties, lift, and unbind."

Scraping her hand against a dagger, Emma let her blood drop slowly into the brew, the words flowing out in the crimson rivulets. As she pulled away the wound closed from her own healing energy. 

"Cradle of moon within flesh, 

Remake that which is to be made, 

Your reflection removed, 

Mine in its stead.

Your burden is mine, 

Carried and held as your first, 

Blood of the two, child, mother, 

As they are born, you are cursed."

She looked at Gothel, who was still wringing her hands, long nails cutting into her palms. This magic was hopefully worth the price the woman had so freely paid. Breaking an infant and mother's bond to give to another was a great sacrifice, the magic comparable to true love, if not greater. The power the Witch would receive would hopefully free her from the curse, but also give her the strength she desired.

"It's done. You must cast your brand over the cauldron, and when you, you know," Emma turned around, holding herself tightly. Caught up in the thought of what she, Emma Swan, would even do with a child, she was unaware of the other Witch behind her scrambling to the cauldron or her deep disregard for anything she was saying. "Get pregnant, let me know. I'll handle that - Wait, what are you -" 

Gothel chuckled lowly, her brand in its arcane circle around the cauldron, neon lines of electricity like power that sparked and crackled. Emma felt her hair stand on end, small pebbles lifting off the stone floor as the cauldron shook. Smoke rose in heavy plumes, purple and a noxious mauve that made the air feel sticky, her lungs not able to fill all the way. Gothel's chuckle had turned into a wild cackle, her braided and matted hair like vines or a visage of Medusa. 

Gothel's voice was crazed, shrill as she pointed a gnarled finger at Emma. "This is it. This is it! I've done it, I'm free! Oh, you silly, stupid girl. Now nothing will ever stop me again!" 

Her laugh grew into a shriek of triumph as magic swirled around them, Emma watching as the woman in front of her disappeared. Gaping at what happened, Emma checked herself for any signs of curses or hexes, unsure of what had just taken place. 

To her surprise, no sign of magic lay on her that she could see. She wasn't cursed, the room wasn't jinxed, and the second payment… Emma quickly checked her purse, finding the large satchel of gold easily. The second sat where Gothel had discarded it without looking twice, and she picked it up hesitantly. It was heavy in her hands as she checked it again and again, realizing that for once in her life, everything was going right. 

 Three hours later, she owned the Victorian home down the road from her brother's farm, the first home she had ever truly called hers. 

 Living near her brother's home had its perks, and disadvantages, as Snow had hinted. For one, Snow was cooking for her every day, and Emma was positive she was going to gain several dress sizes if she didn't stop gorging on various pasta dishes while pouring her magic into restoring the wooden floor. 

A major downside was having her brother constantly fixing her house without her being aware. She'd been woken by him cleaning the gutters, fixing her porch, and of all things, roofing. It had only been a few days, but between his insistence on the outside being presentable and her own work inside, the house was coming along faster than she ever dreamed. It was frightening, and David kept her on edge with his very obvious attempts at snooping around. 

"So, you're done with Neal for good," he said, startling her as she sat out on a newly hung porch swing. She wrinkled her nose at him in protest, and he grinned. "And… You're making doors again."

She froze, panic gripping her. 

"It's alright, I'm not mad. I'm just - just be careful. I trust you, but I know that before -" 

"I made a mistake. I know it, you know it, the Coven knows it, and so does everyone else in the Heights that saw me fall from grace." Emma curled her arms around her knees, bitterly forcing out words. "I won't make the same mistake again. I am on the straight and narrow; these doors are for commuting and hunting skips only." 

David laughed, poking her in the side. "Back to hunting skips, huh? Damn. Don't you ever settle down and enjoy the simple life?" 

Emma laughed, shaking her head. "What the hell is the simple life? Nothing is simple."

"Well, yeah, but… I mean the simple life." He brushed a hand through his hair, looking at her with a gentleness that she instantly felt uneasy with. "House, a pet maybe, hobbies, a partner, kids -" 

"If you are trying to set me up again -" 

"Not me," David raised his hands defensively. "No, I was just -" 

"I don't deserve that life," Emma stated, shrugging. The sun was sinking lower, crickets singing in the cool air. "That life isn't for me. That life is for people like you and Snow, people that are worth something."

"Oh, Emma. You know that's not -" 

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Emma snapped, standing with a start. David looked at her with a hurt expression, and she felt pure rage. "Goodnight."

She stepped back into the house, letting the screen door slam shut behind her. 

"Emma, come on," David called from the porch, but Emma wasn't listening to him as she fought the immediate urge to be ill. The sudden nausea ripped through her, and despite her attempts, vomit burst from her throat. 

She panted, holding on to the wall with one hand. The other hand gripped her side, fierce cramping making her double over in a scream of agony. She lurched forward, unable to breathe as pressure rose in her stomach. To her terror, her skin grew taut and she seemed to bloat, the pain of it ripping through her. 

David splintered the door, his arms around her as she lost consciousness. 

She woke in an ambulance, David holding her hand like he'd done when they were children. He was always the best big brother she could have asked for, always protective of her, and always pushing her to be better. He had convinced her to trust Ruth, convinced her to take a chance with the older woman who was willing to adopt both of them, and they had found another home together. When she was scared or sick, he was right there to hold her hand. Even now as pain ripped through her, he was there. She tried to understand, but her body burned until the flame became too much to bear. 

She woke again to the beeping of machines and David's yelling, her body aching but no longer in the same searing pain. Lifting herself up to try and hear what David was saying, she struggled to make out more than just fragments. 

"I'm not leaving, that's my sister ---- How did -- she wasn't, she --- I don't know, she never said anything ----- A WHAT? No! I'm --- not leaving!" 

Emma's stomach lurched, and she shifted to get out of bed. The sheets slid from her middle, and she gasped. Her middle was rounded, as if she was pregnant. But that was impossible, that was absolutely and completely impossible. 

A knock sounded, a petite woman entering. 

"I'm Doctor Mullins, Emma. I know that this may take some time to fully process, but… you're pregnant."

Emma hissed out a breath into a hysterical laugh. "What? No. No. This is not how babies work, or pregnancy, or even - I haven't even had sex since - "

"I know, and I understand that you must be frightened." The doctor attempted to console her, but Emma could not stop her rising panic. She touched the rounded skin of her stomach, the firm smoothness lined with stretch marks. Letting out a low wail, the doctor tried to speak over her still. "It's some ancient and dark magic, but it's very real. We have an inspector on the way to take your statement, and we performed a few tests -" 

"No. No, this is a bad dream, this isn't real, this isn't happening to me!" Emma closed her eyes, trying to focus. 

" - most concerning of which is the results on paternity, which indicate that the father has non-human presenting DNA. Normally that's not terribly unusual, but this is clearly not a planned pregnancy considering your… your conception being, well, this, and the genomic markers show that the parentage is half Celestial. I need to ask, have you had any relationships with an Angel?"

Emma shook her head, trying to understand what the doctor was asking. 

"Alright, what about anyone with proximity to dark, Arcane, or Demonic magics? Anyone who associates with Demons? Do you associate with them?" The doctor eyed her curiously, and Emma shook her head again. 

"I don't know any Demons, Angels, or Celestials." Emma bit her lip, frustrated at the question. Rolling it between her teeth, she murmured a thought out loud. "I did recently perform a ritual that was older. It didn't call for this though, I don't know anything about this…" 

"Well, it doesn't just happen." Emma looked at the doctor with enough venom in her stare to curdle milk. The doctor laughed nervously. "I mean, it did but -" 

"This cannot be happening," Emma moaned, throwing her head back against the hospital bed's pillow. "This has to be a bad dream."

"I'm afraid it is all very real. Considering the circumstances, an inspector of magical law will be assigned to question you regarding the situation. Because of the issues of legality, you may not leave or have visitors until then." The doctor stood, brushing her hands on her slacks. "Baby looks healthy despite wanting to grow at an accelerated rate, and we have slowed that as much as we can. Welcome to motherhood Miss Swan, and, er… Congratulations." Giving a last placid smile, she left the room, leaving Emma alone. 

Emma sat stunned, unable to do anything but focus on her steady breathing. 

(Fuck)

The single word came to mind again and again, escaping from her lips as her breath finally began to turn into sobs. 

"Fuck."

[questionsonislam]

What are the verses about the protection of life? Why is life (soul) important? What is the reason for the value of protecting one’s life?

Islam, which gives the right to live to all human beings without discrimination, does not only take measures to prevent the violations against this right but also renders it a duty of the community to ensure minimum life conditions and basic needs with the system of mutual assistance and solidarity.

Man –whether a believer or not- is Allah’s slave and a nice entrusted being. Therefore, he has honor and he deserves respect. It is the basic understanding of Islam not to discriminate among people in terms of being humans and to regard them as beings having equal rights, duties and values.

Value of Man

Man has a special, honorable place among created beings. What makes man honorable among other beings must be the divine spirit Allah breathed into him while creating him. The following is stated in the Quran regarding the issue:

الذي احسن كل شيئ خلقه و بدا خلق الانسنان من طين * ثم جعل نسله من سلالة من ماء مهين*

ثم سويه و نفخ فيه من روحهه

“He Who has made everything which He has created most good: He began the creation of man with (nothing more than) clay, And made his progeny from a quintessence of the nature of a fluid despised: But He fashioned him in due proportion, and breathed into him something of His spirit...” (as-Sajda, 32/7-9)

Thanks to this spirit man has in him, he is superior to angels and he is the vicegerent of Allah on earth. That man is the vicegerent of Allah is stated as follows in the Quran:

اذ قال ربك للملائكة اني جاعل في الارض خليفة و

“Behold, thy Lord said to the angels: ‘I will create a vicegerent on earth.’...” (al-Baqara, 2/30)

Allah granted man honor and value by making him the vicegerent on earth. With this property, man will obey the decrees of the holy books sent down through prophets and the natural laws in the universe; and he will apply them; he will benefit from the endless boons of the Creator, worship and thank Him. This is the purpose of the creation of man.To sum up, the duty of man as the vicegerent is to act in accordance with Allah’s will and to be happy. Allah Almighty wants this; He sent prophets and holy books for this purpose.

Allah Almighty, who is the creator of the realms, created everything in the best form. (see as-Sajda, 32/7) Allah, who is the best creator, (see al-Muminun, 23/14) created the first man in the best form and all human beings in the best form and perfectly. Allah states the following for man in the Quran:

لقد خلقنا الانسان في احسن تقويم

“We have indeed created man in the best of molds.” (at-Tin, 95/4).

Indeed, man is the most beautiful creature. The phrase “ahsani taqwim” (the best mold) mentioned in the verse includes all kinds of material and spiritual beauties. The straightness of his height, the uniqueness of his posture, having mind, intellect and thought, having the ability to speak and write, having the ability of art, the property of being able to discriminate between the beautiful and the ugly, the good and the bad, etc. are some of those beauties.

According to the Islamic belief, man is equipped with perfect mental, bodily, ethical and spiritual abilities and faculties. He is born in a clean form with the ability to elevate materially and spiritually. Man, who is created with these abilities, can ascend to climaxes. He has such an honor. Hz. Ali uttered the following nice poem for man:

"You have the cure in you but you are not aware

You have the problem in you but you cannot see

You think you are something small

But the biggest realm is wrapped in you."

Sheikh Ghalib, the great poet, expresses Islam’s understanding of man as follows:

"Look at your personality in a nice way; you are the essence of the realm,

You are man, who is the pupil of the eye of the beings."

Erzurumlu İbrahim Hakkı states the following in his work called Marifetnâme:

“Human body is the small realm and human spirit is the big realm. The like of everything created in the realm exists in human body. Human body and spirit is a sample of the whole realm.”

Thus, he emphasized the value of man.

Allah states the value He gave man as follows in verse 70 of the chapter of al-Isra:

و لقد كرمنا بني ادم و حملناهم في البر و البحر و رزقناهم من الطيبات و فضلناهم على كثيرممن خلقنا تفضيلا

“We have honored the sons of Adam; provided them with transport on land and sea; given them for sustenance things good and pure; and conferred on them special favors, above a great part of our creation.”

Importance Given to Human Life

Great importance is given to security of life, in other words, right to live, in Islam and it is stated that human life is untouchable.

In Islam, “protection of life” has the most important place among the basic values called “religious necessities”. Furthermore, it is possible to say that these five basic principles, which are listed as the protection of the religion, life, mind, lineage and property, are related to the protection of life directly or indirectly.

In some cases, the protection of life comes before the protection of religion, which is in the first place, in the list of those values. As a matter of fact, the practices like the permission of committing some forbidden deeds to save human life, and the obligation of committing those forbidden deeds in some cases emphasize the importance given to human life.

Precautions in order to Protect Human life

The religion of Islam puts the right to live, which is the most natural right of man, under the guarantee of law and imposes some material and spiritual sanctions in order to ensure full respect to the right to live. We can list them as follows:

Material Sanctions

When man’s being sent to the world is narrated, the opposition of angels stating that man will cause mischief and shed blood on earth is mentioned. (see al-Baqara, 2/30)

Indeed, after a while, the first shedding of blood occurred due to the hatred and jealousy between Hz. Adam’s two sons. The incident is narrated with similar expressions in the Old Testament too. (see Genesis, 4/1-8; al-Maida, 5/27-31)

It is stated in the Quran that killing a person is a serious crime like killing all people and that to save a person’s life is a lofty and valuable act like saving all people:

انه من قتل نفسا بغير نفس او فساد في الارض فكانما قتل الناس جميعا و من احياها فكانما احيا الناس جميعا

“...If any one slew a person - unless it be for murder or for spreading mischief in the land - it would be as if he slew the whole people: and if any one saved a life, it would be as if he saved the life of the whole people...” (al-Maida, 5/32)

In the religion of Islam, retaliation (qisas) is essential related to the crimes of killing and wounding people.

There are many verses and hadiths regarding the issue. As a matter of fact, The following is stated in the Quran:

يا ايها الذين امنوا كتب عليكم القصاص في القتلى الحر بالحر والعبد بالعبد والانثى بالانثى فمن عفي له من اخيه شيئ فااباع بالمعروف و اداء اليه باحسان ذالك تخفيف من ربكم و رحمة فمن اعتدى بعد ذلك فله ��ذاب اليم

“O ye who believe! The law of equality is prescribed to you in cases of murder: the free for the free, the slave for the slave, the woman for the woman. But if any remission is made by the brother of the slain, then grant any reasonable demand, and compensate him with handsome gratitude, this is a concession and a Mercy from your Lord. After this whoever exceeds the limits shall be in grave penalty.” (al-Baqara, 2/178)

و لا تقتلوا النفس التي حرم الله الا بالحق و من قتل مظلوما فقد جعلنا لوليه سلطانا فلا يسرف في القتل انه كان منصورا

“Nor take life - which Allah has made sacred - except for just cause. And if anyone is slain wrongfully, we have given his heir authority (to demand qisas or to forgive): but let him not exceed bounds in the matter of taking life; for he is helped (by the Law).” (al-Isra, 17/33)

Many words and practices of the Prophet (pbuh) are regarded as evidence that punishment by retaliation is legitimate. The Messenger of Allah stated the following regarding the issue:

و من قتل عمدا فهو قود

“... The penalty for a person who kills deliberately is qisas (retaliation). “

The imposition of punitive sanctions against the unjust attacks at the security of the lives of people, in other words, rights of living of the people are arrangements made in accordance with the importance given to the safety of people.

In addition, the principle of punishing a murderer by the state, and after an objective and fair trial, not by the relatives of the person who was murdered is adopted.

All this is an expression of the importance given to the protection human life from a different viewpoint.

Even during the state of war, the right of killing the enemy is very limited in Islam; the killing of those who do not actually participate in the war like women, children, clerics and elderly men is forbidden; and the right of living of the prisoners of war is protected.

It is clear that the cases of actual state of war, execution of the sentence and legitimate defense are excluded from this prohibition.

Spiritual Sanctions

Along with worldly sanctions like qisas and diyah (blood money), there are also some spiritual (otherworldly) sanctions for killing a person in the religion of Islam.

It is stated in the Quran that killing people without a legal reason will bring about Allah’s wrath and curse and hence a very severe spiritual responsibility:

و من يقتل مؤمنا متعمدا فجزاؤه جهنم خالدا فيها و غضب الله عليه و لعنه و اعد له عذابا عظيما

“If a man kills a believer intentionally, his recompense is Hell, to abide therein (For ever): And the wrath and the curse of Allah are upon him, and a dreadful penalty is prepared for him.” (an-Nisa, 4/93)

The Prophet (pbuh) addressed all Muslims as follows in the Farewell Sermon:

فان دماءكم و اموالكم و اعراضكم عليكم حرام كحرمة يومكم هذا في بلدكم هذا في شهركم هذا...

“Just as this day, this month and this city is sacred, so too are your lives, property and honor sacred; they are protected from all kinds of violation; that is, they are under the responsibility of the community and the guarantee of law…”

Thus, he stated that man’s right to live was untouchable.

He stated the following in another hadith:

اجتنبواالسبع الموبقات ..... و قتل النفس التي حرم الله الا بالحق....

“Avoid seven destructive things…. One of them is to kill a person that Allah renders haram except for justified cases….”

The Property of the Right to Live According to Islam

The religion of Islam regards the life of every person, no matter what his belief, color, race and social status is, as an untouchable value and tries to prevent all kinds of attacks on and dangers to human life in the most effective way.

Therefore, Islam does not give people the right to commit suicide, which means to end one’s own life, and regards it among major sins; it states that such a person will be punished severely in the hereafter just because of committing suicide no matter what his belief and deeds are.

To sum up:

Man, who is equipped with perfect mental, bodily, ethical and spiritual faculties and abilities, is born in a clean state and suitable for all kinds of material and spiritual elevations.

In our religion, great importance is given to man’s security of life, in other words, the right to live, and it is stated that human life is untouchable. Some material and spiritual sanctions have been imposed in order to ensure full respect to the right to live.

As a result of the principle of “the protection of life”, which is one of the basic purposes of the religion of Islam, it is strictly forbidden for a person both to kill another person unjustly and to commit suicide.

[steveezekiel]

YOU SHOULD TITHE, YES, BUT DO NOT NEGLECT THE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS

“What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you are careful to tithe even the tiniest income from your herb gardens, but you ignore the more important aspects of the law—Justice, mercy, and faith. YOU SHOULD TITHE, YES, BUT DO NOT NEGLECT THE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS.”

Mathew 23:23 (NLT)

• Tithing is a part of the New Testament principles (Matthew 23:23; Hebrews 7:1-10).

THE Pharisees were careful to tithe all their incomes but neglected other important aspects of the law (Matthew 23:23).

- In the things of Kingdom, you use Scriptures to interpret whatever aspect of the Scripture that may be cumbersome or complicated to you.

- You cannot take a passage of the Bible out of context to support your rebellion and disobedience to the WORD. WHATEVER you want to establish that does agree with the whole counsel of God, CANNOT be supported by twisted passages of the Bible.

- When financial principles are being talked about, Some believers would want to rise and challenge the Bible.

THEY would want to probe and twist the Bible, avoiding the part they do not agree with: "speaking about these things as he [Paul] does in all of his letters. In which there are some things that are difficult to understand, WHICH THE UNTAUGHT AND UNSTABLE [who have fallen into error] TWIST AND MISINTERPRET, JUST AS THEY DO THE REST OF THE SCRIPTURES, TO THEIR OWN DESTRUCTION" (2 Peter 3:16 AMP).

- If you still argue on Tithings, you find it difficult to tithe either big or small incomes of yours, you are yet to be broken—you are still carnal (1 Corinthians 3:1).

- You are still worshipping MAMMON; And no servant can serve two masters.

IT is either God or Mammon [money]: "NO ONE CAN SERVE TWO MASTERS; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will be loyal to the one and despise the other. YOU CANNOT SERVE GOD AND MAMMON [riches]" (Matthew 6:24).

WHOM are you serving?

• Jesus’ view

- Jesus was correcting the religious teachers and Pharisees because they were hypocritical in their approach to the LAW.

- They prefer to do and place emphasis on the part of the LAW, the Word of God, that would be of benefits to them most.

JESUS was not condemning Tithing but affirming it!

- The Pharisees and the religious teachers were hypocrites because they left undone other important aspects of the LAW—justice, mercy and faith.

-> “You should tithe, yes.”

• When some BELIEVERS make a big money, they begin to think about Tithing—how, if possible they would avoid the tithing of the money.

- They would be contemplating whether to pay the tithe or not. SOME will even start asking how the leadership of Church has been managing the Church's money, the offerings and the tithes that People have been bringing to the Church.

- These same People whom the Pastor has put his or her time at their disposal, to pray with; for them to experience financial breakthrough in whatever they do—their vocational Work.

- Such people would begin to query the integrity of the Pastor, And would want to make findings about the Church's incomes and how they are being spent.

- Some may EVEN say their Pastor Has offended them, thus, they would not pay their Tithes in order to show their grievances or to discipline their Pastor.

THOSE who do that, ARE undoing themselves, bringing a curse on their finances.

- No one can hold God and HIS Ministers to Ransom. God will make a way for His servants, to be taken care of.

- It is being carnal and unbroken that makes a believer start questioning the leadership of the Church about how the Church money is spent, which he or she has not been doing beforehand; all because the person does not want to tithe the big income they have just gotten.

- The truth is: Tithing is one of the major LAW in the Old Testament AND also important in the New Testament (Hebrews 7:1-10).

- Tithing is a prove of your loyalty and submission to God.

YOUR money is your Life, and it is through it, that is, YOUR attitude towards it; God gets to know whom YOU love most—God or MAMMON (Luke 16:13).

• Rewards of tithing

- God would NOT ask you to do a thing that would not be of benefit to you—bless you.

- The instructions And commands given by God, are for the Good of His CHILDREN, And such instructions are NOT meant to afflict or oppress THEM.

(a) Tithings will open YOUR HEAVEN, the windows of heaven are opened to the tithers (Malachi 3:10).

WHEN you TITHE your incomes, you are challenging God to prove Himself in your Life: "... AND TRY ME [God] NOW IN THIS," says the LORD of hosts, IF I WILL NOT OPEN THE WINDOWS OF HEAVEN..." (Malachi 3:10).

(b) Tithe will make you a delightful land: A land that people delighted in, the people would want to favour you and be identify with you: “PEOPLE FROM OTHER NATIONS WILL BE GOOD TO YOU. You will have a wonderful country.” THIS IS WHAT THE LORD ALL-POWERFUL SAID" (Malachi 3:12 Easy to Read Version).

IT will open your life up FOR Blessings, help and favours, and mercy, where you least expect.

(c) It brings protections and prevents devourers in your life (Malachi 3:11).

THE believers who are tight-fisted used to have their lives fraught WITH calamities; difficulties And problems: "THERE IS ONE WHO SCATTERS, YET INCREASES MORE; and there is one WHO WITHHOLDS MORE THAN IS RIGHT, BUT IT LEADS TO POVERTY" (Proverbs 11:24 NKJV).

SOME believers hands are gluey—sticky like glue!

- A believer who does not give TITHE, the one with glutinous hands, cannot but experience the work of devourers the enemy, that is, the devil and his cohorts; in his or her life.

- Such believers spent money on sicknesses, they lost valuable THINGS often, and are victims of different attacks mostly.

THEIR belongings are theft. And they spent money on other petty things that should not have been devouring their finances: "In this way your whole nation has stolen things from Me, SO BAD THINGS ARE HAPPENING TO YOU" (Malachi 3:9 (Easy to Read Version)

• Obedience to the Word of God brings A Blessing on you, YOUR WORK and YOUR homes; whilst disobedience brings A curse: “You are cursed with a curse, for you have robbed Me, even this whole nation" (Malachi 3:9 NKJV).

- A lot of Christians are robbers, they have robbed God, and that makes THEM victims of evil.

- When you Tithe, you are not helping your Pastor or the Church, you are only provoking God’s Blessings on you life.

• If you do claim to BE born-again And still argue over Tithings, and offerings; that reveals or shows your spiritual shallowness or superficiality.

(a) It does mean you have no depth whatsoever.

(b) It also means you are not broken YET, you have not given God His rightful place in your Life.

HE has no control over certain aspects of your life, which your money is included.

- If God does not have any say-so on your finances, it means He is yet to have the whole of your person.

- If Jesus is your Lord, that is, the OWNER of your Life, He should be Lord of all YOU HAVE.

HE should not be the Lord of a A little fragmented part of your Life!

- If you want God to reign and rule in your Life, you should submit everything to Him.

YOU should be a Steward, and then allow Him to be the OWNER of all you have.

• You will not fail in Jesus' name.

Peace!

[katsitting]

Can I ask "Salvation" for the prompt?

AN: I went over again. Damn it. Anyway, hope you like it! :)

Ship: Tomarry

Rating: T

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Modern, Blasphemy, Internalized Homophobia, Priest! Tom, Mind Games

You can also read it on AO3 here.

________________________________________________________________

He always came to pray.

Whether it was early in the mornings or late in the evenings, Tom found Harry kneeling at the altar, hands clasped together.

The same stance, the same pose, the same request.

Please save them. Please.

Over and over again, he prayed for the safe return of his friends. It was pitiful, just how much the boy cared, felt for a pair that weren’t even related to him.

It was complete nonsense. A waste.

Tom didn’t say as much, however.  

Instead, Tom chose to stand beside him as Harry prayed and pressed a comforting hand to the boy’s shoulders, an encouraging smile on his lips. It was what the boy wanted, no, craved, so Tom gave it to him.

It was what priests did.

It was what he did, as unfortunate as that was.

Tom hated the collar, hated the way they all sniveled and pled for mercy from some unknown god.  It was painful to witness, to have to listen to them weep during confessionals for their pathetic souls.

What was the point of it all?

What was the point of praying to a god that would never hear you?

He despised it, and yet—

Tom remained.

There was nothing else for him, nothing that could compare to the look of absolute adoration, of true worship in the depths of their eyes when they all looked upon him.

That was irreplaceable, indescribable.

To them, Tom was the centre of their world—their guiding light, their salvation. He sneered at the mere idea of being anyone’s saving grace, but to be admired, to a certain degree, not even Tom could resist that allure.

He could admit as much.

The boy shifted beneath Tom’s grip, and Tom’s focus splintered, his attention shifting landing on the bright green eyes of a young man that was both too young and old to be suffering this much.

A boy, even if Harry was just shy of twenty.

Harry’s eyes were red, cheeks streaked with dried tears. When he’d started to cry, Tom couldn’t begin to guess, but that wasn’t important. It was the glint beneath the tears, the sheen of something else that piqued Tom’s interest.

It was worship and a glimmer of something darker, less pure.

Richer.  Something—

Oh.

I see.

Tom smiled at the same time he tried to rein in the cruel and bestial sensation writhing in his ribcage, roaring for a way out.

The boy stood up from his knees, and Tom had to restrain the urge to push him back to the floor, down to where the boy truly belong.

Harry’s eyes flashed at the same his mouth parted, that curious little emotion growing more pronounced with each passing moment. The boy’s jaw was tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing, lips curling and uncurling, making obvious how indecisive he was about saying what Tom anticipated the boy would say.

Go on, Harry.

Tom extricated his arm from the boy’s shoulder and waited.  Something like anticipation, like excitement, now swimming through his veins.

Say it.

It was unexpected, how invested Tom now was, how much he wanted to have his suspicions confirmed. He shouldn’t be, given his choice of career, and yet—

Tom was curious all the same, was more than curious if he were being honest with himself.

“I—“ the boy began, but stopped. There was a question in the boy’s gaze now swimming with that worship, with that want. It was sickening, absolutely disgusting and unacceptable, but Tom couldn’t look away.

Say it.

“I’m sorry, I—“ the voice was now a whisper, as if the boy couldn’t bear to say the words aloud. Tom’s lip twitched, unable to repress the reaction when the boy tilted his head down. It was further evidence of his shame, of how humiliated and embarrassed Harry must have been.

A submissive gesture, and one, Tom couldn’t recall Harry ever doing before.

Not even on his knees did Harry seem weak.

Interesting.

“Harry—“ Tom began, delighted when he lifted his head up and looked him in the eyes. The worship was still there, but that sparkle of darkness, it had become stronger. More passionate.

All it would take was a push.

“What is it? You know that you can tell me anything.”

Tom stepped forward, a thrill running up his spine when the Harry’s mouth opened and didn’t close, when his eyes flashed with something hungry, ravenous. There was no containing it now, Tom knew. There was no fighting, no resisting the want, even if it was a sin, even if—

Oh, Harry.

“Go on. There’s no need to be afraid. Tell me, Harry.”

There was a moment where neither said a word. It was nothing but their breaths, but the crackling of the hearth at the opposite end of the empty church, and then—

Harry closed the distance between them, his hand reaching to grip the back of Tom’s head at the same time as his lips pressed against Tom’s mouth. It all happened in a matter of seconds.

It was like the brush of a butterfly’s wings, the way in which Harry’s lips touched his. If Tom hadn’t been watching it unfold, Tom wouldn’t have believed Harry had kissed him at all.

Tom relished it all the same, savoured the brief warmth on his skin.

Then, it was over.

From one moment to the next, Harry had pushed him away and was running. Tom’s hands curled into fists, but he made no move to stop Harry from leaving.

Tom only followed Harry’s movements with his eyes, only watched as Harry burst through the entrance to the church and slipped into the night. Tom touched his mouth, and it came away wet.

Tom grinned, unable to contain himself any longer, and laughed.

Oh, Harry.

This was going to be fun.

[graciousheaven]

WHAT DOES FEAR DO TO US

Fear is a feeling we all experience in life. It usually streams from the uncertainty that gnaws our minds whenever we face a difficult situation or when there is a threat to our wellbeing and safety. Fear can also be induced by worry about the potential consequences our choices or decisions may have on our future - this is the fear of the unknown, triggered by the fact that we do not see the future, and no one knows what tomorrow has in store. Although human beings can make projections and plans, one can never affirm with certitude that everything will turn out exactly as planned. For the Lord alone rules over all He made - as the Scripture says, "You may make plans, but God directs your actions." (Proverbs 16:9). We never know what tomorrow will look like. But the one thing we do know is that every day brings its load of troubles.

Although suffering and hardship are part of our life, just the thought of these often fills people with fear and anxiety. But many people are unaware of the dangerous consequences fear can have on their lives. Knowing the damage that fear can cause to us, our Lord commands us not to let fear be part of our lives but to instead trust in Him. The Lord says in Isaiah 41:10, “Do not be afraid – I am with you! I am your God – let nothing terrify you! I will make you strong and help you; I will protect you and save you.”

Depending on their situations, people may experience different types of fear: fear of failing, fear of being criticized, fear of reprisal, fear of getting hurt, fear of rejection or persecution, fear of losing someone or something etc. Every type of fear can have a dangerous effect on our spiritual life. Sometimes people do things that violate the will of God by fear of others. It is usually the case when there is certain dominance and oppression going on: the oppressed does not have the freedom to do what is right because at any time they may get hurt either emotionally or physically by their oppressors. They fear for their lives and so choose to satisfy the will of these instead of obeying God's commands.

The Lord says in Matthew 10:28, "Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather be afraid of God, who can destroy both body and soul in hell."

We can also experience fear when exposed to a new environment. This is where uncertainty kicks in and fills our brain with fear – fear of the unknown - because we are concerned about the view other people may have of our person. The thought that our actions can be misunderstood by them or that they may not like us makes us tremble with fear. Do everything for God's glory and trust Him in all you do. Never be afraid of losing your face when you seek God's glory in what you are called to do. Psalms 25:12 tells us: “Those who have reverence for the Lord will learn from Him the path they should follow.” "Reverence for the Lord gives confidence and security to a man and his family. [...] Reverence for the Lord is a fountain of life." (Proverbs 14:26-27)

 There are also circumstances where, although the environment is not new to us, we may not be sure how others are going to interpret our actions; we have no clue how they are going to react towards us and fear surrounds us. This type of fear can sometimes lead us into wrongdoing. It is very important for us to always seek to do the will of the Lord and to trust ourselves to Him in order to avoid being caught in sinful actions. The Scripture says: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Never rely on what you think you know. Remember the Lord in everything you do, and He will show you the right way.” (Proverbs 3:5-6). “With faithfulness and love He leads all who keep his covenant and obey his commands.” (Psalms 25:10)

One can experience fear - fear of death- when diagnosed with an incurable or deadly disease. Oftentimes, people give up fighting. No matter what you are suffering from, never give up the fight. The Scripture tells us: "Your will to live can sustain you when you are sick, but if you lose it, your last hope is gone." (Proverbs 18:14). People also experience fear when their beliefs or opinions are seen by others differently. Some people do not have the courage, for example, to affirm their faith in Christ because of fear of being rejected, insulted or persecuted. But as Christians, you should not let fear win you hearts. "For the Spirit that God has given you does not make you slaves and cause you to be afraid; instead, the Spirit makes you God's children, and by the Spirit's power we cry out to God, 'Father! my Father!' God's spirit joins Himself to our spirits to declare that we are God's children. Since we are his children, we will possess the blessings He keeps for his people, and we will also posses with Christ what God has kept for Him; for if we share Christ's suffering, we will also share his glory." (Romans 8:15-17). We should always look up to Christ our Lord - in Him we find peace and assurance, in Him we find joy and safety. Christ is the Hope of all glory. He tells us in John 14:27, "Peace is what I leave with you; it is my own peace that I give you. I do not give it as the world does. Do not be worried and upset; do not be afraid."

We are not to fear the world or its threats and violence against us. Otherwise we may find ourselves seeking to please it and trying to conform ourselves to its standards. We must submit ourselves to the will of God and do what pleases Him even if that costs us our lives. Our goal is not to please the world but to live as God's commands us to; we are to seek his glory. So do not let fear steal your peace and drive you away from the right path. Be hopeful in the Lord at all times and trust yourself to Him and do not be discouraged by the way people treat you. The Lord our Saviour says through his Apostle Peter: “Even if you should suffer for doing what is right, how happy you are! Do not be afraid of anyone, and do not worry. But have reverence for Christ in your hearts, and honour Him as Lord. Be ready at all times to answer anyone who asks you to explain the hope you have in you, but do it with gentleness and respect. Keep your conscience clear, so that when you are insulted, those who speak evil of your good conduct as followers of Christ will be ashamed of what they say. For it is better to suffer for doing good, if this should be God’s will, than for doing evil.” (1 Peter 3:13-17). Our Lord also says in Matthew 10:38-39, "Those who do not take up their cross and follow in my steps are not fit to be my disciples. Those who try to gain their own life will lose it; but those who lose their life for my sake will gain it."

There are also circumstances where people experience the fear of being abused or disgraced and accept to do things that defile God's commands. People who struggle to counter the waves of emotional abuse that they constantly face for example experience fear in their lives; they are filled with anxiety. People also experience fear when facing a situation where there is a risk that things could escalate and potentially expose them to harm. This happens for example when there is instability where we live. We all experience fear many times in life, although our Lord told us not to worry. People often worry about their belongings or their lives. Our belongings cannot save us - we are not to depend on them or to envy anything that belongs to the world. Our Lord commands us in Philippians 4:8, "Fill your minds with those things that are good and that deserve praise: things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, and honourable." For "the world and everything in it that people see and want is passing away. but those who do the will of God live for ever." (1 John 2:17). And there is nothing one can do to change the number of days allotted to them by the Lord. No one can oppose God's plans, whether these bring them suffering or rejoicement. Our destiny was set by the Lord our God long time before time even began. Fear can never make a change to it; it instead adds to our load of troubles. Paul tells us in his letter to the Philippians: "Don't worry about anything, but in all your prayers ask God for what you need, always asking Him with a thankful heart. And God's peace, which is beyond human understanding, will keep your hearts and minds safe in union with Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:6-7)

It is always dangerous to let fear fill our heart: when people are afraid to stand for their rights for example, they let others stand in their way and sometimes accept to do things that contradict God's will. Take for instance someone in an abusive relationship - in this situation the choices of the abused are narrowed down and restricted to the sole expectations laid upon them by their abuser. In order to satisfy this, the abused may do things that violate God's commands. If you are a victim of bully, persecution or any form of abuse, remember what the Lord says. “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather be afraid of God, who can destroy both body and soul in hell.” (Matthew 10:28)

The Lord Almighty is the one to be feared. But the one thing many people fail to understand is what it means to fear the Lord.

When we talk about fear of the Lord, we need to understand that it is a healthy fear, not in the same sense that we fear a danger. It is about having reverence for the Lord, to honour Him by making sure that all we do, our thoughts and lifestyle are acceptable to God. It means to stand in awe of the Lord, to obey his teachings, to worship only Him, to honour his Holy name, to live for his glory because the Lord alone is God; He is holy and He created us for this purpose - to bring glory to his holy name.

Fear of the Lord keeps us in obedience to God's commands - as the Scripture says, "Whoever fears the Lord walks upright, but those who despise Him are devious in their ways." (Proverbs 14:2). A God-fearing person strives to please the Lord in all they do; they put their trust in the Lord and remain faithful to Him. They do not think up evil; instead, they align their actions, their deeds and thoughts with what the Lord requires of them. They avoid to do things that can stir up the Lord’s anger. They are confident and hopeful in the Lord; fear does not subdue their hearts.

The Lord knows what we are made of and what impact fear can have on our lives. He told us not to let anything terrify us and not to fear human beings like us. In John 14:27 the Lord says: “Do not be worried and upset; do not be afraid.”

Unfortunately, we often let fear overwhelm our hearts. There are times where we do not make good decisions because of fear. Fear influences our judgement and often leads us into wrongdoing. This happens for example when people worry about what others might say or think about them being in a specific situation: they do not want others to see their failure or their inability to afford something; they do not want to be judged or despised. As a result, they succumb to the temptation while trying to make things look attractive in the sight of others. The Scripture tells us: "It is dangerous to be concerned with what others think of you, but if you trust the Lord, you are safe." (Proverbs 29:25)

Fear can also divert people from the path of life. We see people for example who are more concerned about their career or business that they have no time for Christ. People chase their dreams and spend zero time with God because they worry about tomorrow.

The Lord says in Matthew 12:34, "Do not worry about tomorrow; it will have enough worries of its own. There is no need to add to the troubles each day brings." Trust in the Lord at all times; seek his guidance and wisdom. 

Fear can restrain us or push us too early into action: there are moments where we act too early because of fear and mess things up and the impact is irreversible. Because of fear king Saul acted foolishly and sinned against God when the Philistines assembled to fight the Israelites at Michmash. Samuel had instructed Saul: "You will go ahead of me to Gilgal, where I will meet you and offer burnt sacrifices and fellowship sacrifices. Wait there until I come and tell you what to do." (1 Samuel 10:8)

"Saul was still at Gilgal, and the people with him were trembling with fear. He waited seven days for Samuel, as Samuel had instructed him to do, but Samuel still had not come to Gilgal. The people began to desert Saul, so he said to them, 'Bring me the burnt sacrifices and the fellowship sacrifices.' He offered a burnt sacrifice, and just as he was finishing, Samuel arrived. Saul went out to meet him and welcome him, but Samuel said, 'What have you done?' Saul answered, 'The people were deserting me, and you had not come when you said you would; besides that the Philistines are gathering at Michmash. So I thought, 'The Philistines are going to attack me here at Gilgal, and I have not tried to win the Lord's favour.' So I felt I had to offer a sacrifice.' 'That was a foolish thing to do,' Samuel answered. 'You have not obeyed the command the Lord your God gave you. If you had obeyed, He would have let you and your descendants rule over Israel for ever. But now your rule will not continue. Because you have disobeyed Him, the Lord will find the kind of man He wants and make him ruler of his people." (1 Samuel 13:7-14)

Many people experience a similar fate in their lives; not that of a dethroned king, but that of someone who rushes to find a rapid solution when troubles rush in. They do not have the patience to wait for the Lord to fight for them because they are afraid to lose. And by doing so they sin against the Lord and ruin all what God has in store for them. It is important for us to always draw a clear line between our fear and our judgment. What we see or think may not necessarily concord with the reality. We need to rely on the Lord for help whenever we face trouble; we should not let fear lead us to sin. One thing we must know is that the Devil likes to fill our minds with lies that strike our hearts with such feelings as fear, doubt and worry in order to make us lose faith in Christ.

The Lord says in Jeremiah 33:3, “Call to Me, and I will answer you; I will tell you wonderful and marvellous things that you know nothing about.” What a promise!

There are also moments where we take action to deal with a situation, but we do not choose the right time to act all because of fear. We steer the wheel to turn right or left way before we reach the turning point, which simply means the fear causes us to act too early, but later on when real troubles emerge we are unable to counter them.

Fear can also lead to passiveness in the face of a danger, which often has a painful outcome. We ought to know that even if our life is as stake we should never violate God's commands by remaining passive. When we abstain from doing the right thing because we want to remain alive, we sin against God. As the Scripture says, "Those who do not do the good they know they should do are guilty of sin." (James 4:17) And our Lord also tells us in Matthew 16:25, "Whoever wants to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it."

There is passiveness when people abstain from taking action, although they are aware it would be the right thing to do. Passiveness in certain circumstances can be reinforced by the fear that any attempt to conform ourselves to the will of God may encourage our enemy to harm us. It is the case for example in any relationship where someone is in emotional distress because of the abuse they face, but are unwilling to take action because they may risk their life or that of their loved ones. They are afraid to do what is right in God's sight because they have been threatened or blackmailed by their abuser.

This situation also applies to any given circumstances where a person is forced to do unlawful tasks for someone else's benefit. The threats they receive increase the fear they experience. The abuser, knowing the vulnerability of their victim expose them to more harm and force them to do things that violate God's commands.

Whatever situation you face in life, always obey God's commands, keep your hopes in the Lord and trust in Him. Do not let fear lead you into damnation. As the Bible tells us, "Obey the Lord, and you will live longer. The wicked die before their time. The hopes of good people lead to joy, but wicked people can look forward to nothing." (Proverbs 10:27-28) "Happy is the person who honours the Lord, who takes pleasure in obeying his commands." (Psalms 112:1)

Fear can do us more harm than we think. We should never let the Devil strike our minds with his lies. Such lies fill our hearts with fear. We always need to remember what the Lord our God told us. There is no other remedy for fear but Christ - nothing in this life, no human being can dissipate our fear. Only in Christ can one find safety and comfort. Turn to Him for safety. The Lord our God says: “Remember that I have commanded you to be determined and confident! Don’t be afraid or discouraged, for I, the Lord your God, am with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

The Lord rules supreme over all creation. The wicked may grow strong but the Lord destroys them all; no one is above his power. The Lord is constantly there to help us when we call to Him. When we put our trust in God, our fears dash away; they do not have a hold on us because our Lord surrounds us with his own peace. The Lord says: "Call to Me in times of troubles; I will save you, and you will praise Me." (Psalms 50:15) The Lord is our refuge. We need not fear any danger. Every day of our life brings its own challenges and it is only by trusting our Lord that we can overcome fear. Christ alone is our strength – when we are weak the Lord is strong; He fights our battles. He never lets us down – from his throne in Heaven, the Lord constantly watches over us. He knows our worries and all what we go through. When we humble ourselves and let his mighty hands guide us in life, the Lord Almighty drowns our fears and walks us through oceans waves; He fills us with confidence, hope, strength and happiness and surrounds us with peace.

Whether you are in a situation of uncertainty or there is a change required to reshape your life but you are filled with fear and anxiety; whether you are going through episodes of emotional distress, coupled with threats to your life and that of your loved ones; whatever trial you face in life, do not be afraid! Trust yourself to the Lord and He will always be with you – "The Lord is with you as long as you are with Him. If you look for Him, He will let you find Him, but if you turn away, He will abandon you." (2 Chronicles 15:2)

The Lord promised to always be with us if we honour Him and obey his commands. What a treasure!

As the Apostle Paul says in his letter to the Romans, “If God is with us, who can be against us? Who, then, can separate us from the love of Christ? Neither death nor life, neither angels nor other heavenly rulers or powers, neither the present nor the future, neither the world above nor the world below – there is nothing in all creation that will ever be able to separate us from the love of God which is ours through Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:31, 35, 38-39)

Never let people use you against your will to do dirty things because you are scared to lose your life. Have reverence for the Lord. Do not let fear imprison you and bring damnation upon your soul because you want to please men. "Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot afterwards do anything worse." Says the Lord in Luke 12:4

Trust yourself to the Lord, honour Him and be faithful to Him. Seek Him, cry out to Him.

"Whoever goes to the Lord for safety, whoever remains under the protection of the Almighty, can say to Him, 'You are my defender and protector. You are my God; in You I trust.' He will keep you safe from all hidden dangers and from all deadly diseases. He will cover you with his wings; you will be safe in his care; his faithfulness will protect and defend you. You need not fear any dangers at night or sudden attacks during the day or the plagues that strike in the dark or the evils that kill in daylight. A thousand may fall dead beside you, ten thousand all round you, but you will not be harmed. You will look and see how the wicked are punished." (Psalms91:1-8)

“Humble yourselves, then, under God’s mighty hand, so that He will lift you up in his own time. Leave all your worries with Him, because He cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:6-7)

[forehead-enthusiast]

For Those Dealing With Broken Hearts

Pairing: Jisung x Reader

Genre: Some angst, fluff

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Life sucks. You got cheated on, dumped, and when you get to this DNYL Club, there’s only one other person, this Jisung guy, who you barely know. At least you know he’s heartbroken too, right?

A/N: It has been so so so long since I’ve written a fic!! I really hope you guys like it, and thank you for taking the time to read it!!

When the announcement first blared over the speakers, you thought it was a prank. Don’t Need Your Love Club? What a joke. You scoffed at the idea of a club for broken hearts, finished drying your eyes, and reconsidered. It hadn’t been a great day romance-wise. You’d caught your now ex-boyfriend groping some cheerleader behind the bleachers, and somehow you were still the one who got dumped out of that relationship. Insult after insult. You debated whether some stupid prank club could make your day any worse, and concluded it couldn’t. With red eyes and a backpack slung over your shoulder, you strode out of the classroom and towards whatever awaited you.

You stood before the door, unsure of whether you should knock or not. You put your ear next to the door to see if you could hear anyone behind it, but were startled by a loud swish of the door opening. Someone on the other side had pulled it open, and you nearly fell into them. Your eyes dragged their way up from the surprisingly tall stranger’s chest to his face, and vaguely recognized it.

“Have we met?”

The stranger’s eyes widened at the sight of you. “Uh… yeah. We had physics together last year. I’m Jisung.”

“Ah, right,” You flushed, feeling guilty for not remembering him. “Of course. Hey, Jisung.”

“Hey, y/n.”

He knew your name already. You cursed yourself for spending all of last year pining for the idiot who dumped you today. He was a waste of time you knew you’d waste more time getting over, and you wondered how many other people you ignored because of your infatuation. You realized Jisung was holding the door open, and hastened inside and plopped your bag on the table.

“So… are you here for the club too?” He called from behind you.

“Yeah.” Having admitted it out loud, you were suddenly uncomfortable at the idea of others knowing about your awful relationship, and the even worse way it ended. It was humiliating. You avoided his eyes, and fiddled with the zipper on your bag. Tears threatened to fall again, and you stared at the ground, hoping they wouldn’t escape and expose how truly heartbroken you were. You saw out of the corner of your eye that he had turned away, and quickly shoved your sleeves into your eyes to sop up the sadness.

“Um, well, I don’t know if anyone else is… coming.”

“What?”

“Yeah, there’s just a note from the organizer, I guess. It’s over there.”

You spotted the small sticky note stuck to the table before you and walked over to read it aloud.

“‘Welcome to the DNYL Club, a community for people to mend their hearts together. The fact that you’re here means you’ve acknowledged you need one another to heal. You all understand what everyone else has been through.’ That’s it? That’s all we get? What even…”

“Yeah. Not a great club.”

Silence followed his acute observation, and you wondered if you should just leave. The club was basically a joke after all, or at least it seemed that way. You expected it, but somehow you were still disappointed. All you wanted was to feel okay again. Some part of you hoped this club was going to help you do that. You despised yourself for getting your hopes up, and despised even more the fact that your watering eyes had returned with a vengeance. You hurried to grab your bag and leave before you broke down in front of this almost-stranger.

“Are you okay?”

The simple question made you turn towards the boy who asked it, and as you did, burning tears began to slide down your cheeks. All it took were a few words of compassion, or even just common decency, to push you over the edge. He panicked at the sight, rushing over to you with hesitant hands hovering over you, wondering what to do. You smeared the tears across your face with the backs of your hands, unable to speak. Jisung placed a hand cautiously on your shoulder, as you tried and failed to stop the tears from flowing. You gave in and let yourself sob with the boy doing his best to comfort you until you eventually began to calm down.

“I-I’m sorry. For making you cry.”

“No! No, it’s not your fault,” You sniffed, “I’m sorry. It’s just been… A rough day.” As if that wasn’t the understatement of the year.

Jisung awkwardly gave you a pat as you did your best to dry off your cheeks. “Do you,” he hesitated. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I- thank you, but I just. Can’t right now.”

“…Then what about tomorrow?”

And thus, the second meeting of the two person DNYL Club was arranged.

.

After your classes ended the following day, you went to the same room and waited alone. You wondered if he’d even show up, and cringed remembering the meltdown you’d had in front of him. Some random classmate of yours watched you get all smudged and snotty. You buried your face in your arms, horrified by your own lack of composure.

“Y/n! Are you alright?”

You flipped your head up to see a very concerned boy leaning over you. Upon seeing that you weren’t crying, he let out a sigh of relief. You attempted to smooth out your hair and appear like a normal, emotionally balanced human, and hoped your puffy eyes didn’t blow your cover. The same awkward silence from yesterday reemerged from whatever void it came from, and hung on your shoulders.

“…He cheated on me.”

Jisung blinked at the sudden confession, and scratched behind his ears. He sat down and waited for you to continue as you took a few deep breaths.

“He wasn’t my first crush, but he was my first boyfriend. The first…” You paused, smiling emptily. “The first one who said yes when I asked. I guess that’s why I liked him so much.” All you needed was that scrap of affection for you to devote yourself entirely to someone who, you knew now, couldn’t care less about you.

“I really liked him.”

“…I’m sorry.”

Despite whatever reason caused your attachment, it was strong nonetheless. Knowing he was a piece of shit didn’t make you forget about him just like that- it just made you hate yourself more for making such a fool of yourself for him. If he was worthless, what did that make you? Something worth yet less? Or just someone stupid enough to worship a shred of trash? You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything else, or else risk breaking down again, so Jisung just sat by your side until it was time to leave campus.

You decided to meet up again.

And again.

And again. The DNYL Club, as underpopulated as it was, was thriving. You’d meet up with Jisung, open up to him like you’d never done with anyone before, and he’d listen. He didn’t often say much, but somehow he always managed to make his empathy known. His careful pats and infrequent murmurs offered more comfort than anyone or anything else. He was your mysterious solace that was too kind to be your therapist, but too intimately known to be considered a friend. You couldn’t have shared this with one of your other friends. He was just different.

Over time, you got more comfortable talking about your ex, and all that’d you’d done to try and win his affections. You were able to laugh about it, although your chest still tightened at your memories. Jisung mirrored this change, smiling and laughing more, in the same awkward way he did everything else. You looked over at him in the empty classroom, and were suddenly ashamed.

“Jisung.”

Your serious tone caught his attention. “What?”

“Why are you here? All this time I’ve whined about my heartbreak, but you came here because of someone too. God, I can’t believe I’ve never asked, I’m so sorry, that’s just… awful of me.”

“Ah,” he said, turning away from you, “it’s not… a very interesting story.”

“Geez, I hope you weren’t listening to mine for the drama of it all. C’mon, I’m here for you. Tell me.”

Jisung sighed with resignation. “There was a girl that I… liked. We didn’t date. I just liked her. She was sort of, uh, sunny. I really liked her smile.” A smile of his own crossed his face, albeit a sorrowful one. “Unfortunately, the smile I liked most was always directed at other people.”

“Was she blind or something?”

He chuckled. “Nah, I just couldn’t seem to grab her attention. Kinda frustrating. I mean, I probably should’ve made more of an effort, or… I dunno. She liked plenty of people she barely knew, but maybe I was stupid for hoping one day it’d be me. One day, I just had to,” he swallowed, “I just had to give up. See the situation for what it was.“

Your heart ached at his bitter expression, and you reassured him, “If she didn’t see how great you are, that’s on her. I think you’re wonderful.” He didn’t respond, and you were desperate to return to your lighthearted laughter you’d interrupted a few minutes prior. You were irritated that someone had made him so forlorn. He’d grown important to you, and you felt the need to defend him against anyone who would make him feel unworthy.

“She’s an idiot. You’re probably way out of her league.” You couldn’t control your tongue, and spat, “Who even is she? What’s her name?”

Jisung turned away again. “You don’t know her.”

“That doesn’t matter! I just… Ugh, I’m so mad. Just tell me her name! It’s not like they’re off limits.” You’d told Jisung your ex’s name weeks ago, just to make trash-talking him easier.

“No, it’s not like that’d change anything.”

“Jisung, just tell me. You- Don’t you trust me?”

“Yes!”

“Then tell me! I already told you mine, it’s fair!”

“I don’t want to tell you!” He snapped, more agitated than you’d ever seen him. He strode away from you, and you followed him. You were taken aback by his tone, and your indignation at the nameless girl shifted into fear.

“Jisung, why won’t you tell me? What did I do?”

“Nothing, can’t you just drop this already!?”

“I don’t know why you can’t just tell me! Jisung!” It wasn’t about the name for you anymore, you just needed to know he trusted you with it at this point. You walked in front of him, and demanded, “Jisung, tell me who she is!”

“IT’S YOU!”

His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

“IT’S- It’s you, it’s,” his voice caught in his throat, “it’s always been you. Always.”

He grabbed his backpack off the floor where he’d left it, and rushed out from the room, leaving you to be stunned frozen where you stood, in a mist of confusion and guilt.

.

Jisung hadn’t returned to the classroom. Not that you’d know- you hadn’t gone back either. The sadness you felt at what you’d done to him for God knows how long weighed on you far heavier than the sadness of being dumped.

He had known your name.

He knew the name of the girl that broke his heart.

He had listened to you, week after week, complain about one of the jerks he’d watched you fall for.

You put your head on your desk and buried it in your arms, and felt the guilt press down on you like a vice. There you were, spouting bullshit about how wonderful he was and how you’d have to be stupid and blind to not notice him, and all the while he had to be thinking you were the biggest hypocrite. You couldn’t get the way he looked when he confessed out of your mind. How frustrated, how distraught, how heartbroken. It always circled back to heartbroken with you two.

You couldn’t bring yourself to face him. You didn’t know what you’d say to him. You were a coward. You didn’t understand why he liked you. You couldn’t really… believe that he liked you. As hypocritical as you had been, you’d been honest in what you’d said to him. He was a wonderful guy, you’d meant it. You hadn’t known him long, but it wasn’t hard to see he was caring and kind, and really funny when he wanted to be, despite his quiet and sweet disposition. Your heart ached even more, thinking about how sympathetic he was to you despite your obliviousness to his feelings.

It was difficult for you to fathom why someone that great would like you. You felt your arms grow warm, and realized the glow of your cheeks atop them was the culprit. You cursed yourself for feeling happy at a time like this, but the flush persisted. Thoughts of Jisung’s smile, and his touch on your shoulder, and his quiet voice circled around in your mind, ignoring your pleas for them to leave you to mope in peace.

It was obnoxious, feeling so overjoyed when all you wanted was to wallow in guilt and misery. But Jisung liked you. He liked you enough to be heartbroken when you didn’t like him back.

You sat up suddenly.

You pressed your hand against your chest to feel your racing heartbeat, and made up your mind.

Finding Jisung wasn’t as hard as you worried it’d be. You had walked to the familiar classroom, without much hope, only to run into him in the hallway before it. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but couldn’t find the words. Instead, you gently tugged on his arm to lead him into the classroom. He allowed you to pull him, just as silent as you were, and walked in after you. He waited, patient as always, for you to collect yourself and turn to face him.

“Jisung.”

“…Yes.”

“Thank you for listening to me. And… thank you for liking me.”

At that, he looked away from you, and prepared for his heart to be broken once more.

“You, well, you know this by now, but for me, it hasn’t always been you.”

“Y/n, I already know, it’s oka-”

“I’m not done yet. It hasn’t always been you, but,” you gulped, “it’s you now. And I know it hasn’t been you for very long, but I’m very confident that it’s you. For me. For good. I don’t know… why you like… or liked me, or how much, but I promise that I will like you more than that. I like you. I love you.”

Jisung had turned back and been looking at you during your stuttered speech with an unreadable expression, and you just wanted to cry, but you made yourself keep talking.

“I just wanted you to, um, know how I felt about you. I understand if you don’t like me anymore. I came prepared to have my heart broken back, so I won’t blame you at all if you…”

Jisung slowly walked towards you, his arm slipping from your grasp and the hand attached to it gently resting on your arm. He stopped just a bit in front of you, and used his other hand to pinch his cheek, hard. He winced in pain, and you saw his eyes glaze over with tears.

“Jisung!? Are you okay?”

He flicked a tear from his eye and his shoulders began to quake, and you realized he was laughing.

“I’m so much better than okay.”

He looked at the hand he’d placed on your arm, then met your eyes.

“Can I hug you?”

You blushed, but nodded. Gingerly, he wrapped his arms around you, as if you were a dream that would shatter if clutched too tightly.

“Um, I still like you. More than ever, actually, so, uh, good luck liking me more.”

You beamed up at him, ready for the challenge, only to see a bright red strawberry in his place.

“Jisung? You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just. Wow. This smile, your smile, is just even better than the one I… Uh, the one I fell for.” He blushed even more forcing those words out, and you couldn’t believe it took you this long to notice someone this endearing.

“We should probably change the club name.”

“Definitely.”