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dailyanarchistposts · 10 days

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“Revolutionary suicide does not mean that I and my comrades have a death wish; it means just the opposite. We have such a strong desire to live with hope and human dignity that existence without them is impossible. When reactionary forces crush us, we must move against these forces, even at the risk of death.” – Huey P. Newton, Revolutionary Suicide

“It seems to me that one ought to rejoice in the fact of death—ought to decide, indeed, to earn one’s death by confronting with passion the conundrum of life. One is responsible for life: It is the small beacon in that terrifying darkness from which we come and to which we shall return. One must negotiate this passage as nobly as possible, for the sake of those who are coming after us. But white Americans do not believe in death, and this is why the darkness of my skin so intimidates them.” – James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time

Aaron Bushnell, before self-immolating in front of the Israeli embassy in Washington, D.C., sent notice to a few radical platforms including CrimethInc. (henceforth: the Outlet) informing them of his decision to commit “an extreme act of protest” against the ongoing genocide in Gaza. He asked simply that they preserve the footage of his action and report on it. Most complied, but in the face of such a humble request, the Outlet was confused: “All afternoon, while other journalists were breaking the news, we discussed how we should speak about this. Some subjects are too complex to address in a hasty social media post.” It’s telling that they self-identify as journalists.

Still, the white man’s burden of “anarchist” journalism demanded that they not ponder too long before releasing a statement , even if half-formed. Within hours, they hastily published their garbage take. Putting Aaron’s actions in the context of another self-immolation that occurred on December 1st by a woman in Atlanta, (who, despite the Outlet’s misinformation, is still alive) they said: “It is not easy for us to know how to speak about their deaths.” Such dis-ease surely disquieted the spin-doctors and self-appointed spokespeople of revolution. For a project which only contributes to struggle by knowing what to say, the imperative to speak is paramount. In light of what they wrote, it would have been better for them to contemplate a little longer, or just say nothing at all.

After grossly overestimating their importance as journalists “speaking to people of action,” they ultimately write:

“Just as we have a responsibility not to show cowardice, we also have a responsibility not to promote sacrifice casually. We must not speak carelessly about taking risks, even risks that we have taken ourselves. It is one thing to expose oneself to risk; it is another thing to invite others to run risks, not knowing what the consequences might be for them. And here, we are not speaking about a risk, but about the worst of all certainties. Let’s not glamorize the decision to end one’s life, nor celebrate anything with such permanent repercussions. Rather than exalting Aaron as a martyr and encouraging others to emulate him, we honor his memory, but we exhort you to take a different path.”

While it would be easy to dismiss this as the Outlet cautiously mitigating any potential liability if self-immolation generalizes, the rejection of the framework of martyrdom demands attention. The question is not whether Aaron qualifies as a shahid within the Palestinian context, although demonstrators in Yemen have proclaimed Aaron a “martyr of humanity” and an argument can be made for him having become an anarchist martyr in the lineage of Louis Lingg, Avalon, and Mikhail Vasilievich Zhlobitsky. The bigger issue: the Outlet’s assertion that an individual’s death, particularly in the context of the US, is the “worst of all possible certainties” reveals a deep disconnect with the context of this entire decolonial struggle. In the days following October 7th, anti-colonial anarchist thinkers such as Zoé Samudzi argued that the figure of the martyr marked a fundamental contradiction for the secular left’s ability to fully comprehend and act in solidarity with the Palestinian resistance. The martyrs constitute a force in the present for all who live and continue to struggle. Aaron framed his self-immolation as “not that extreme” compared to the ascension to martyrdom of tens of thousands in Gaza. By implying that Aaron’s choice was too extreme, the Outlet dishonors the reality of the struggle within Palestine and undercuts the potential of Aaron’s sacrifice.

In denouncing any action taken with “such permanent repercussions,” the Outlet reproduces the anti-death paradigm of capitalism itself. The philosopher Byung Chul-Han, commenting on an exchange between the filmmaker Werner Schroeter and Michel Foucault, says:

“Schroeter describes the freedom unto death as an anarchist feeling: ‘I have no fear of death. It’s perhaps arrogant to say but it’s the truth… To look death in the face is an anarchist feeling dangerous to established society.’ Sovereignty, the freedom unto death, is threatening to a society that is organized around work and production, that tries to increase human capital by biopolitical means. That utopia is anarchist insofar as it represents a radical break with a form of life that declares pure life, continued existence, sacred. Suicide is the most radical rejection imaginable of the society of production. It challenges the system of production. It represents the symbolic exchange with death which undoes the separation of death from life brought about by capitalist production.”

The fact that an anarchist media syndicate cannot recognize the anarchic nature of a sovereign death, or the symbolic exchange of a uniformed US airman’s self-immolation (which cannot be simply reduced to suicide) is in and of itself a disgrace. Even worse, this conforms to a long established pattern where every time a comrade’s actions pass a certain threshold of intensity, the Outlet is first in line to call for restraint. While Michael Reinoehl was still on the run after shooting a fascist, they wasted no time issuing a hasty social media post denouncing his action and urging their followers to “reject the logic of the guillotine.” The Outlet preferred to remain palatable for liberal eyes, ears, and politicians, rather than express solidarity with a comrade on the run for his life.

In his “Letter to Michael Reinoehl,” Idris Robinson exposes the logic at the heart of the contradiction of those who chose to parse Reinoehl’s actions as nonstrategic:

“What the double-standard with regards to your situation reveals is how violence in America will always necessarily have a profoundly racial dimension. And it is precisely this—the terrifying core of racialized violence—that they are trying to repress when they lie to both themselves and others that their issue with what you did is a question of strategy or tactics. I mean, give me a break: in a country that is literally saturated in violence, from blind mass shooters to murderous police, no one can honestly claim that the few shots that you let off could in some way be construed as an escalation. There is simply no way to avoid the spiral of violence that began at the very moment when the first wooden ships reached the shores of the Atlantic.”

While the Outlet has no problem sanctioning enlistment in the fascist-dominated Armed Forces of Ukraine or calling for the US to keep troops in northern Syria, it seems even a single white death in the United States is a red-line they refuse to cross. For them, the self-sacrifice of a white person in the US military (a fact they fail to ever mention in their response but that was, without question, important to Aaron’s action) in solidarity with colonized people might be even worse. Rather than a liberatory or truly life-affirming position, this timidity betrays a fundamental discomfort with anything that challenges the fragile unity of whiteness and the American racial order. Neoconarchists at it again!

The Outlet quotes Kropotkin (who broke with anarchist internationalism by supporting the Allied imperialists in World War I and is therefore a fitting predecessor to their brand of pro-NATO anarcho-liberalism) on the contagious nature of courage, yet their analysis downplays Aaron’s courage again and again. They call death “the worst of all certainties,” showing that they share Western civilization’s pathological fear of death, yet feel confident in making pronouncements about the impact and efficacy of Aaron’s offering mere hours after it happened. Those who are truly comfortable with uncertainty know that it remains to be seen what the full repercussions will be. The Outlet assumes the universality of a rationalist teleological perspective in the context of a gesture that is best understood deontologically: its essence, independent of outcome, is of distinct and ineffable value.

It’s clear that the Outlet fears any form of struggle that challenges the sanctity of liberal democracy that they feel comfortable operating within. Echoing a line they have often used in the past, they frame themselves as protestors and militant lobbyists, not insurgents or practitioners of direct action (which is not about influencing government policy, but rather creating direct results of destruction and ungovernability.) They say: “The kind of protest activity that has taken place thus far in the United States has not served to compel the US government to halt the genocide in Gaza.” While Aaron did call his self-immolation an “extreme act of protest [within U.S solidarity with Palestine],” the resulting question for anarchists should not be what more effective forms of protest might be, but rather how to honor Aaron’s act of personal refusal through our own deeds. His action was directed towards the rest of us. He looks us in the eye and asks: “What will you do?”

While the authors of the Outlet have called Aaron’s decision “self destruction” and “sacrifice,” we read little in their text of the long tradition of self-immolation as an ultimate form of self-expression against repression and war. They make only a diminishing reference to Tunisian Mohamed Bouazizi’s self-immolation to protest police bribery, which lead to the Sidi Bouzid Revolt and impelled the Arab Spring. In 1965, Thich Nhat Hanh wrote to Rev. Martin Luther King:

“The self-burning of Vietnamese Buddhist monks in 1963 is somehow difficult for the Western Christian conscience to understand. The Press spoke then of suicide, but in the essence, it is not. It is not even a protest. What the monks said in the letters they left before burning themselves aimed only at alarming, at moving the hearts of the oppressors and at calling the attention of the world to the suffering endured then by the Vietnamese. To burn oneself by fire is to prove that what one is saying is of the utmost importance. There is nothing more painful than burning oneself. To say something while experiencing this kind of pain is to say it with the utmost of courage, frankness, determination and sincerity…

The monk who burns himself has lost neither courage nor hope; nor does he desire non-existence. On the contrary, he is very courageous and hopeful and aspires for something good in the future. He does not think that he is destroying himself; he believes in the good fruition of his act of self-sacrifice for the sake of others…”

The Outlet claims that Bushnell, in the rhetorical tradition of the notion of the selfishness of suicide, was “denying the rest of us a future with [him].” But the monks who self immolated in the sixties teach us that perhaps that is the pain we must bear as witness, just as those who chose fire bore the pain of their death or injury for the expression of their will.

“But why does he have to burn himself to death? The difference between burning oneself and burning oneself to death is only a difference in degree, not in nature. A man who burns himself too much must die. The importance is not to take one’s life, but to burn. What he really aims at is the expression of his will and determination, not death.”

Pain can be a motivating factor towards life, just as the witnessing of an autonomous death can inspire us to live deeper into our convictions now.

The question remains: what is the “different path” the Outlet urges readers to take? They admit that no act of solidarity in the US, however massive or targetedly destructive, has been able to slow the war machine. And yet they claim what the ruling class fears most is “collective action.” They give no examples of what said action might be. It doesn’t take too much creativity to imagine how disenchanted members of the US military could strike against the war machine, especially if they’ve overcome the fear of death. We could list those actions of desertion, sabotage, and fragging (and their long history in the anti-war movements of generations past) and theorize on their efficacy. However, we have no desire to reduce ourselves to the indignity of the anarcho-commentariat, issuing self-serving hot-takes about the grave actions of someone more courageous. We can only imagine what they will say when (not if) the war is brought home in even more escalated ways. What are they to do when a revolution based on summering in squats in European social democracies and engaging in ritualized playfights with police is no longer intelligible? Their greatest fear is not of state or economy but of an epochal shift that will render them incoherent.

The Outlet’s pontification on the inappropriateness of Aaron’s action is beyond disrespectful. Faced with such acts of self-sacrifice, the appropriate responses are pause, prayer, contemplation, remembrance, and solidarity. Instead, the Outlet doesn’t fail to make the selfless about themselves: “Choosing to intentionally end your life means foreclosing years or decades of possibility, denying the rest of us a future with you.” Lacking any real other direction, this future seems to amount to years of patient readership and faithfully following the lead of well-platformed self-declared strategists. Their obnoxious tendency to quote their own past texts illustrates their narcissism and self-importance. This self-reference demonstrates a deepening dogmatism on their part, a commitment to stay the course on a sinking ideological ship.

The ill-timed call for recruitment is made explicit in the closing paragraphs: “Prepare to take risks as your conscience demands, but don’t hurry towards self-destruction. We desperately need you alive, at our side, for all that is to come.” Just as in recent weeks they celebrated those who fight side-by-side with the Azov Battalion in the Ukraine, they would prefer active US military personnel alive and well, ready to fight for Western interests at home and abroad.

The time has long passed to dispense with these bloggers who, through their appeals for restraint and moderation, stand in the way of the resistance movements they imagine themselves to lead. The Outlet’s inadequacy was already evident in the “both sides” narrative of their initial coverage of Al-Aqsa Flood. Instead, we choose to act out of affinity and solidarity with the resistance axis of the Palestinian struggle itself. Compare the milquetoast equivocations of the Outlet to the statement of unconditional solidarity with Aaron Bushnell and his loved ones issued immediately by the PFLP:

“The act of an American soldier sacrificing himself for Palestine is the highest sacrifice and a medal, and a poignant message to the American administration to stop its involvement in the aggression.

The Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine affirms that the act of the American soldier Aaron Bushnell from the U.S. Air Force by setting himself on fire in front of the zionist embassy in Washington, D.C., in protest against the war on Gaza, which he called for the “liberation of Palestine,” confirms the state of anger among the American people due to the official American involvement in the zionist genocide war being waged on the Gaza Strip. It also indicates that the status of the Palestinian cause, especially in American circles, is becoming more deeply entrenched in the global conscience, and reveals the truth of the zionist entity as a cheap colonial tool in the hands of savage imperialism.

The Front expresses its full solidarity with the soldier’s family and all the American sympathizers who took a honorable stance and whose struggle and pressure to stop the genocide on the Strip have not ceased, confirming that the act of an American soldier sacrificing his life to draw the attention of the American people and the world to the plight of the Palestinian people, despite its tragic nature and the great pain it involves, is considered the highest sacrifice and medal, and the most important poignant message directed to the American administration, that it is involved in the war crime in Gaza and that the American people have awakened and are rejecting this American involvement, calling on the American administration to stop this support and bias for the zionist entity.

The Front sends a message to the Arab soldier to take this American soldier who sacrificed his life for a noble cause like the Palestinian cause as an example and role model, and to leave the trenches of waiting, incapacity, and move to the trench of confrontation in support of Palestine and its people who are being slaughtered, besieged, and starved in full view and hearing of the world and just a few kilometers from Arab lands and meters from the borders.

Palestine will be victorious as long as it has deeply engraved itself in the conscience and consciences of the world, and history will record in golden letters the names of all the sympathizers and free people of the world who stood with it and sacrificed their lives for its sake.

The Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine Central Media Department 26-2-2024″

Those golden letters of history will not record the name CrimethInc., whose version of anarchism cannot hold, comprehend, or move with the young militants taking increasingly bold and dire action. While the pro-Ukraine anarchists continue to stumble again and again over the question of militarism, Aaron’s act of self-negation resolved the contradiction. This is not to say his was the only way to resolve the contradiction, but it was a powerful way that threatens the worldview the Outlet desperately clings to: a view inextricably affixed to Western epistemological hegemony. The decline of the neoliberal consensus indicates the inevitable illegibility of their explanation of the world. The coming days and years will surely see a proliferation of increasingly drastic actions, marked by an intensity which surpasses what the Outlet can accept or condone, positioned as it is. For the Outlet, the death of this world conjures the existential anxiety of dissociation. For others, ourselves included, the end of this world is essential for the legibility of our perspective.

Aaron left us a will. That will, in the many senses of that term, is our inheritance. It reads: “I wish for my remains to be cremated. I do not wish for my ashes to be scattered or my remains to be buried as my body does not belong anywhere in this world. If a time comes when Palestinians regain control of their land, and if the people native to the land would be open to the possibility, I would love for my ashes to be scattered in a free Palestine.”

Whatever Aaron was in the preceding years of his life, he died as an anarchist, and will be remembered as one. His action points to a new organic anarchism emerging out of the present moment, one disconnected from the scenes, subcultures, and cults-of-personality that constitute the anarcho-mainstream. This development threatens the hegemony of the anarchist talking heads as much as the rest. His death is already drawing unprecedented attention, at new levels, to the cause of Palestinian liberation, and likely to anarchism as well. Those who cannot adapt to the changing tides will be washed into historic oblivion, toward which they’re already careening. The rest of us must act within the unsayable. Deeds must speak where words fail.

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chenfordsbby · 11 months

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"The Ride Along"

Season 1 Episode 7: “The Ride Along”

“Sergeant Grey informs Nolan and officer Bishop that they are going to have a movie director as a ride-along. Bradford learns that his wife has been arrested for drug possession”

Original Air Date: December 4th, 2018

Written By: Robert Bella

Directed By: Cherie Nowlan

Before we start another episode, I just want to express all of the continued love and support and likes and re-blogs and thought and opinions on everything that I have shared so far! I know there has been a multitude of re-watch blogs this hiatus so for everyone who has stuck with me and will continue to stick with me, the appreciation is endless so thank you!! With that being said, shall we begin!

This is the best cold open we have seen so far, with the cutest premise of why it was done, “Make-a- Cop Wish Foundation”! One of the many reasons why this show is flat out amazing.

Ben is back, and putting Nolan in his place, get out there and stop being a sad little puppy. I mean, Nolan is acting like a whiny child. If this is how he is acting after the breakup with Lucy, who he was only dating for a few months, I can only imagine how he acted after his divorce from his wife of 20 years.

Im glad there is another episode with Lucys hair still in her braid buns, I wish they lasted longer.

Grey asks what one of the worst days on the job can be with the vets giving all different answers, but according to Grey, it is The VIP Ride Along. The officers have to limit the calls they take as to not put the VIP in any danger, have to make sure the VIP is getting treated as such, but also while still doing there job as well. “He doesn’t get anywhere near danger” Sounds like its going to be a slow day for Bishop and Nolan. Every call that comes in over the radio gets bypassed by Nolan and Bishop until they get a less than thrilling one, no action to put the VIP in danger. They respond to the call which seems to be innocent, but Bishop and Nolan enter a house unsecured which reveals a dead body. VIP continues to want to toss money around to make this house call pass by, which shows his arrogance, this is something exciting for him, but for John and Talia, this is the proper protocol for what they have to do when put in this situation, this is still their job, and they need to do it the right way, no matter if VIP is there or not.

Bishop and Nolan respond to another call, a family disturbance. Nolan and Bishop both see that the distressed man has mental issues and they quickly de-escalate the situation without any force. They inform the family that he will be placed in a 24 hour mental facility hold which is better suited for their brother than putting him in a jail holding cell.

Taking Ben’s advice, John accepts the invitation to go to VIP’s house party that night and maybe it was a good thing he was there too- he saved a girl from being roofied! I still appreciate that Nolan is still the comedic factor of every episode in some way. The next day, while out on patrol John and Talia answer a personal call on Johns phone and it is VIP under attack from the family of the disturbance call from the previous day. Turns out maybe VIP isn’t such a bad guy after all- he called up the family from the previous days arrest and offered to pay for a spot in a mental facility and they took it completely the wrong way and attacked him. Ive said it before and I’ll say it again, as much as Nolan is the comedy relief, he also has a way with his words and he knows how to use them well- he could talk himself and others out of any situation. At the end of the episode, John video calls his son, and it’s the first time we see him being a dad! Obviously we are going to see him again soon as John mentions he will buy tickets to fly his son out to LA! This show continues to have a good balance between the professional and personal aspects of all of their characters!

This is the first we hear of Angela being interested in the open detective position. Angela wants to move up, and thanks to Jackson, she has some inside intel. When Angela and Jackson respond to the 9-1-1 call, they see a kid electrocuting himself, solely to get an adrenaline rush. Jackson is quick to make an arrest, but Angela stops him after doing a quick canvas of the scene. She spots all stolen hospital property, and is already thinking 5 steps ahead: you have to go through all of the minnows to get to the big shark.

Angela’s detectives skills are very visible and apparent this episode, she knows how good she can be as a detective and she wants to make it known. Not only is she putting her potential detective skills in use, but she is also teaching Jackson how to long for a bigger picture in making certain arrests happen, also like thinking of a food chain, how to use the bottom feeders to get to the top. At the end of the episode though, it turns out that Angela got way ahead of herself and the big guy on top turns out to be a dead end as Captain Anderson informs them. The prospect of Angela potentially getting the tap and becoming detective got the best of her that day and she got a little over her head? It’s upsetting for Angela, but Jackson is there for her every step of the way and continues to support her. It is nice to see Angela and Jacksons budding friendship in this episode, it seems to be evolving into a really special bond.

Now onto the #Chenford of it all (our favorite part of every episode)!

Tim and Lucy are still at the station, with Tim un-patiently waiting for Lucy to grab their shops gear when Grey summons Tim into his office. Once in the office, Grey informs Tim of a recent drug bust, and the arrested suspect is Isabel. You can see Tim’s heart drop into his stomach at that news. I wish we could be inside Tim’s head here, because he is clearly reeling from this information. Tim hasn’t seen or heard from Isabel in a year, and then after one random day while on the job, she’s back in his life and not the way that Tim was hoping for. Every time he’s seen her since, its been at the police station, and it is evident she is till on drugs, which continues to cause major stress on their already strained marriage. How much more can it take? How much more can Tim take?

It’s like Tim is in the twilight zone for a bit this episode. He doesn’t know what to think, act or feel, and is kind of just there. For a man who claims to never show no emotion, you can see every one written across his face and in his eyes when he watches from afar, the detectives bring Isabel into the station. I wish I could jump though my screen and give Tim a hug. I feel like that’s what he needs right now, a hug from someone who will never let him go. (Ahem Lucy!!!)

The detectives let Grey and Tim in on what is going on with Isabel and what will happen with her now that she was arrested. Isabel is deep with heroin, and with other heroin dealers. The detectives do make a good point, “Is he a cop or the suspects husband”; Tim is really caught between a rock and a hard place in this episode. Does he put his feelings aside and practice what he preaches to Lucy and be the cop, or does he put his professionalism on the back burner and be Isabels husband in her time of need and help her out, even though she probably doesn’t deserve it. What is Tim to do, or feel?

Tim and Lucy bring in a suspect for public urination, but I think it is a ruse for Tim to get himself bak to the station to see Isabel, I mean, even Lucy knows this arrest is nonsense but she has Tim’s back, so she just does as he says. Lucy spots Tim looking at Isabel and lets him know that shell keep an eye out for the detectives so he can have a conversation with Isabel.

We know what Tim and Isabels relationship is like now, but it makes me wonder what their relationship was like for the past 10 years. How long was it good until it got bad? How were they at work together? How were they like at home? This episode makes me want to know so much more about Tim. Isabel knows she’s in big trouble for heroin possession, which is why she asks Tim to do the unthinkable and get rid of the stashed heroin at her ‘sometimes boyfriends’ house so the cops don’t find it when they raid the apartment. I can only imagine how that made Tim feel- having your current wife talk about her boyfriend, like a knife to an already bleeding wound. In my opinion, I think Isabel begging Tim to help her is out of pure selfishness. She knows what will happen to her if she goes to prison, and she will do any means necessary to stay out of it, and that includes begging Tim to help her with this. In no way does she ever think about what she’s asking Tim to do will affect him, but why would she though. It’s an interesting choice when the camera pans to Lucy right after Isabel asks him to hide her stash, I wonder why?

Later that night, a stealthy looking Tim breaks himself into Isabels apartment, he opens the heating unit and finds the heroin exactly where Isabel said it would be, and in that moment we don’t see what his decision is as he’s back on the streets. Is this rock bottom for Tim and Isabel’s relationship? When they exchanged vows 10 years ago, I don’t think Isabel asking Tim to confiscate kilos of heroin from her sometimes boyfriends apartment was a thought. How does not only a strained relationship, but also strained marriage recover from a situation like this? I mean, can it ever recover and go back to what it used to be?

Tim almost gets in his car until Lucy steps out of hers. My first though when Lucy gets out of her car is how did she know that Tim was going to be there, but it brings us back to when Lucy was listening into the conversation between Tim and Isabel in the holding cell, Lucy has always been listening, this entire time.

Lucy is there for Tim. Just like we don’t know what Tim decided to do, neither does Lucy, but that doesn’t matter. Tim and Lucy have only known each other for 2 months, but in those 2 months, Lucy has learned who Tim is. I mean he doesn’t make it easy for her to forget. Lucy knows that if he does help her, it will completely change him as not only a cop, but a person and maybe even as a husband. That is why Lucy is there, to remind Tim of that, and after she does, is silence is loud. There is no response from him, he just walks away and I really do believe it’s because he knows that she’s right. Lucy knows that if Tim did this for Isabel, it would just put her back on the streets, and right back into a cycle, learning nothing from it. Lucy just knows. There was no reason why Lucy needed to show up that night to talk to Tim, she just knew that she had to, no matter how much shit she would get for it from him the next day. This was one of those moments that furthered their friendship, even though neither of them realized it at the time.

The next morning, Tim pretends as if nothing happened from the previous night. His decision is revealed that he actually didn’t help Isabel and he left the heroin in the apartment as told to us by Grey. Lucy tells Tim that he did the right thing, so why does Tim look like he didn’t. Not that Isabel deserves anything from Tim, but he apologies to her that he didn’t or couldn’t help her and she is quick to dismiss it; which just shows how much she isn’t willing to change. At no point in this entire episode was Isabel thinking of anybody but herself whereas Tim was thinking of everybody but himself. And by everybody, I mean Isabel. She claims that because of what Tim didn’t do, that they will never know if she could’ve actually changed and gotten her life together, but I think that deep down, Tim knows that she would’ve just ended right back in the streets, repeating the same cycle. And that’s why he made the choices that he made. Isabel’s lashing out at Tim is misplaced and uncalled for and Tim just takes it, what else can he do, he just signed over a prison sentence to his wife.

At the end of this episode, Tim is sitting in silence in his car when Angela and Talia show up and enter his space. They already know what Tim is going to say, but that doesn’t mater for them, whether he likes it or not, the girls are there for him, jus like they have been and always will be. That is what friends do. Angela and Talia were friends with not only Tim, but Isabel as well, and watched the marriage start to fall apart and they are going to be there to pick up all of Tim’s broken pieces and help put them back together again; well mainly Angela, and a lot of Lucy, because Lucy is and will always be exactly who Tim needs, he just doesn’t know it yet!

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Honorable Mention: Lucy’s baby, her car!

Episode Peak: Jackson & Angela

Episode Pit: Distraught Tim

Quote of the Episode: “No, I came here to remind you that you’ll regret helping her. Because it’s not gonna change her, but it’ll sure as hell change you” ~ Lucy Chen

Episode Rating: 8/10. I enjoyed this episode. Not only did it give us one of the best Season1 Chenford scenes, but it also shows the blooming friendship between Jackson and Angela!

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Another episode down! Thank you, thank you, thank you again for reading and chiming in! I truly appreciate it! 7 episode down, only 91 more to go!!!!

Until next time on, "Get in the Shop"...

#The Rookie #Lucy Chen #Tim Bradford #Chenford #John Nolan #Angela Lopez #Jackson West #Talia Bishop #The Rookie 1x07 #The Ride Along #Tim x Lucy #Lucy x Tim #Eric Winter #Melissa O'Neil #Get in the shop: the rookie re-cap blog #I love doing this so much #thank you for sticking around #please share your thoughts and opinions on this #1x07

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froggie-100 · 3 months

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My name is Ava grace, I was born in a small down located outside of London. On December 1st 2001 I started getting these weird gifts that were always wrapped up like a present. Once I’d opened it it would reveal a VHS tape each time. The VHS tape would always say “MAPLE&FREINDS” with the box cover art for the slip, then it would say the VHS tape name on it. I’m 9 and never heard of it before I decided to go up to the attic to see if we had a VHS player since I remembered my mom having one at some point. Once I found it I would sit down on the floor and play the tape. It would be glitchy but I could make out the characters and already knew their names, there was Maple the strawberry dog: a humanoid light yellow dog in a strawberry costume with stubby legs and arms. Luna the orange black cat: a humanoid black cat in an orange costume with stubby arms and legs. Bon bon the peach bunny: a light yellow humanoid bunny in a peach costume with stubby legs and arms. Beary the pear bear: a humanoid brown grizzly bear in a pear costume with stubby legs and arms. Alan apple pig: a pink humanoid pig in an apple costume with stubby legs and arms. Their personality was that maple was the sweet and caring one, Alan was the out of pocket and weirdly never paying attention or saying random stuff and also always cared about food, Luna was the dark and moody one, bearly was the brave and daredevil one, and bon bon was the shy one. The VHS tapes I got was “the adventure!” “Meet maple” “rainy days” “storms” “sleep” “bon bons garden” “the beach” “Halloween” “Easter” “vacation” “school” “the house” “alans cooking!” The last two were weirdly very disturbing…. “The house” was very kinda glitchy but you could still make it out, stadic behind the dialogue, and was set in a weird glitchy house. You saw almost all of the house but not the kitchen… the kitchen door way was pitch black and blurry, the only thing you could see was a silhouettes of a cat… then “Alan’s cooking!” Was weird and terrifying… it was distorted&extremely glitchy. You could hear the character’s screaming in the background every so often… then at the end it showed the remains of bon bon… her body was distorted and decomposing, you could see her organs.. as if it was an actual dead body… then as the days passed i didn’t get any more tapes! Finally! It was over I thought, but I was so wrong… on Christmas Eve it was about 3:30 pm, I had just got off of school when I saw another present on my door step… my heart immediately sank.. I picked it up but it had a note on it but i brought it inside anyways… I was still in my pink shirt and jeans, my brown hair messy from P.E. The tape was called “Christmas” I finally read the note and it says the following, “live and laugh, till the day, snow falls, cheer and joy is coming, it’s the holiday season, but soon, a life will be thrown away, into a void of disappear, and taken on a new form within a simple kids show” I felt uneasy and as if someone was watching me, but I played the tape anyways.. it opened up with its opening theme but Christmas addition. As the tape went on and on, it ended with screaming then the screen went black. The words appeared on the screen as following “live and laugh, till the day, snow falls, cheer and joy is coming, it’s the holiday season, but soon, a life will be thrown away, into a void of disappear, and taken on a new form within a simple kids show” it was the same thing!? But it had something else along with it.. “and that life shall be yours Ava” I felt scared and uncomfortable, I felt eyes on me.. then the scene went back to normal but it was in the living room with a tall slender purple cat with pitch black eyes and a pitch black smile and it was sitting on the couch, it’s limbs were longer than anything, you could almost see it’s skeleton, it had on a yellow and orange floral t-shirt, and it was staring directly onto the camera. It played the credits and it stopped. I called my girlfriend on my phone and told her everything! She said she would meet me outside of my house and we could hang out to help calm-

#MAPLE&FREINDS #oc #original art #gacha life 2 #gacha oc #fanart #horror #artwork

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animesavior · 6 months

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“Intruding on one soul is something I won't allow. This trespassing of yours shall not stand!”

- Tanjiro Kamado, Demon Slayer: Mugen Train (Ep. 04)

The Toonami Trending Rundown for November 2023. After two years of being stuck in “Crunchyroll Jail”, Demon Slayer has finally returned to the better cartoon show to premiere the highly acclaimed Mugen Train arc. And it’s not alone, as Dr. Stone has also returned to resume the second half of the 3rd season, the New World, while IGPX returns to the lineup for the first time in 10 years, as Discotek releases an HD Remaster of Toonami’s first original series.

November 4-5 was a post-Halloween marathon night, as Toonami re-aired Part 1 of Attack on Titan: The Final Chapters, in addition to the first two episodes of IGPX due to the extra hour the block got due to the end of Daylight Savings. In terms of trending, both shows trended in the USA, although the former got some assistance as Part 2 was just released in Japan and on simulcasting. For the night of November 11-12, the premiere night of Demon Slayer and Dr. Stone, #Toonami trended in the USA alongside Demon Slayer and Dr. Stone. #Toonami also trended on Tumblr alongside Demon Slayer and One Piece. On November 18-19, #Toonami trended in the USA on Twitter and on Tumblr, while Demon Slayer and Dr. Stone both trended in the US. And on November 25-26, #Toonami trended in the USA alongside Dr. Stone and IGPX.

The feature for November 11 was a new ID bump made by The Foreign Correspondents' Club. You can check it out below.

The feature for November 18 was a game review of Sea of Stars, a role-playing video game by Sabotage Studio that is available on modern platforms. TOM and SARA have called it a modern-day rendition of the classic Chrono Trigger video game.

youtube

And for November 25, Toonami aired another new ID bump featuring TOM and SARA trying out an explosive new weapon, this time from MoreFrames AnimationCo.

With Demon Slayer finally back on the lineup, Toonami has plenty of Demon Slayer to catch up on. Demon Slayer’s Mugen Train arc is only 7 episodes long, given it’s a TV version of the hit Mugen Train film. But there is also the Entertainment District Arc, which will be an addition 11 episodes in length to complete season 2. Followed by the 11-episode Swordsmith Village Arc that makes up season 3. During the Aniplex panel on Saturday morning at Anime NYC, it was announced that the Entertainment District Arc will also be making its way to Toonami on January 13, following the completion of Mugen Train.

Demon Slayer fans will have plenty more to celebrate in the future, as the official Kimetsu no Yaiba Japanese website has already confirmed that a fourth season is in production, to cover the Hashira Training arc. Additional details are to be revealed on December 10.

When it rains, it pours, and with Toonami rekindling relationships with Aniplex (and potentially all of Sony-Crunchyroll LLC), Aniplex USA has announced on Friday at Anime NYC this weekend that a second show is also on the way for the better cartoon show. Lycoris Recoil, an original anime series directed by Shingo Adachi, the character designer and chief animation director of Sword Art Online, will be joining the Toonami lineup on January 20, as the first new acquisition in the 2024 calendar year.

Luffy from One Piece made his debut on the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade this year, as he had his own float parading down the streets of New York City for the very first time. Anime was well represented, as he was joined by a Goku float from Dragon Ball Super, as well as a Christmas themed Pikachu and Eevee float from Pokémon. Unfortunately, Luffy’s hat would deflate after it got snagged by a tree branch due to strong winds in the area. The float was still able to fly and would later be showcased on the NBC broadcast, albeit with Luffy’s straw-hat looking like a bucket hat as a result of the tear and partial deflation.

Finally, Toonami has announced marathon nights for Christmas and New Year’s as the block winds down with the year coming to a close. For Christmas week on December 23, Toonami will air all 7 episodes of Dr. Stone: New World Part 2 it has aired to that point from Midnight to 3:30 a.m. EST. While for New Year’s week on December 30, Toonami will air all 7 episodes of Demon Slayer’s Mugen Train arc from midnight to 3:30 a.m.

Until next time, we hope you all had a Happy Thanksgiving, congrats to the Texas Rangers for winning the World Series, and see you again next week as always.

Legend: The shows listed are ordered based on their appearance on the schedule. Show trends are listed in bold. The number next to the listed trend represents the highest it trended on the list (not counting the promoted trend), judging only by the images placed in the rundown. For the Twitter tweet counts, the listed number of tweets are also sorely based on the highest number shown based on the images on the rundown.

November 4-5, 2023 Trends

United States Trends:

#Toonami [Trended with #IGPX]

#AttackOnTitan [#1]

Eren (From Attack on Titan) [#6]

Armin (From Attack on Titan) [Trended with Eren]

Mikasa (From Attack on Titan) [Trended with Eren]

#IGPX [#12]

Tweet Counts:

#AttackOnTitan [213k tweets]

November 11-12, 2023 Trends

United States Trends:

#Toonami [#12]

#DemonSlayer [Trended with #Toonami]

#DrStone [#20]

Tweet Counts:

#Toonami [3,522 tweets]

#DrStone [3,469 tweets]

Tumblr Trends:

#Toonami [#5]

#DemonSlayer [#4]

#OnePiece [#2]

November 18-19, 2023 Trends

United States Trends:

#Toonami [Trended with #DrStone]

#DemonSlayer [Trended with #DrStone]

#DrStone [#15]

Tweet Counts:

#DemonSlayer [3,669 tweets]

Tumblr Trends:

#Toonami [#3]

November 25-26, 2023 Trends

United States Trends:

#Toonami [#9]

#DrStone [Trended with #Toonami]

#IGPX [#13]

Tweet Counts:

#Toonami [3,394 tweets]

If you wish to send me a tip for the work on the trending rundown, donations can be sent to PayPal.Me/DanielLimjoco. All proceeds will be used to help pay for my cable bill and other materials that make this trending rundown possible.

Only Toonami on [adult swim] on Cartoon Network.

#toonami #adult swim #cartoon network #toonami trending rundown #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #dr. stone #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #igpx #one piece #luffy #goku #eren #mikasa #armin #Youtube

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amchara · 2 years

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Effortless Ch. 6: New York, Demons and Secrets Revealed

One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / Seven (completed fic)

(Completed fic at Ao3, posting to tumblr with a few minor edits)

Summary: After moving to England to live with Tessa and Jem, Kit ends up attending a local sixth form college alongside his Shadowhunter training.

Featuring- a charming but slightly broken Kit, typical teen drama, mundane friendships, pop culture references, Carstairs-Gray family moments, a rotating cast of our favourite Shadowhunters as guest tutors and of course, some unacknowledged pining for one Ty Blackthorn.

Wordcount: 7,975 words for this chapter

Rating: Teen, cw this chapter: canon typical violence

CHAPTER SIX: NEW YORK, DEMONS AND SECRETS REVEALED

December 2014-January 2015

The reveal that Kit was a descendant of the First Heir didn’t go how he pictured it in his head.

“Oh- yeah, we know,” Jace said, from where he sat sprawled across a wide sofa. “We figured it out a while ago.”

“Had our suspicions,” Clary corrected, at the head of the sofa. “Magnus confirmed them. But we thought we should wait until you felt comfortable telling us about it.”

Kit looked between them, Magnus and Alec, and Izzy and Simon, all of them sitting or perching on the comfortable seating in Jace’s office. All of whom shrugged and nodded.

He felt relief but also a flash of fear; he threw a glance over to see Jem and Tessa also looking disquieted.

Alec caught it and he moved to dispel their worries. “I doubt it’s gone beyond anywhere in this room,” he said, holding his hands out in a reassuring gesture. “As Consul, I get a lot of intelligence passing through my hands and I haven’t seen any hint of it mentioned.”

His eyes scanned over Kit, assessing and Kit knew that as much as Alec was the same quiet, comforting presence he had been in the London Institute or at Cirenworth, he was also the Consul, which meant he also had to think strategically. And Kit, like it or not- was a potential weapon for the Nephilim. Or, could be- if he wasn’t broken and actually knew how to use his powers.

But that was a question for another time, as the discussion moved on to wider talk about recent news about the Seelie and Unseelie Courts and the latest updates on the breakaway Cohort Shadowhunters in Idris.

“Hey,” Jace said, as he led Kit back towards the training room. He stopped in front of the door and Kit paused. “I uh- I know what it’s like to be different from other Shadowhunters… if you ever need any advice,” Jace trailed off.

“Yeah…” Kit said. “But you also have an extra dose of angel blood. All I have is ‘dirty faerie blood’.”

He remembered the slurs Mark Blackthorn had faced from the Centurions and the Cohort. He wasn’t looking forward to it, even though it would happen eventually.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jace said fiercely. “And even when it does come out more widely, you know we’ll have your back, right? And those who matter won’t care about it," he said. "But I also understand wanting the space to figure it out,” he paused. “Also- it’s much more effective to wow your opponents when you come back to the fight, all trained and buff- make it look effortless when you beat their asses, okay?”

Kit nodded. “Yeah, exactly! Those were my thoughts too…” he said.

Jace’s gold eyes took in Kit and his grin had a wicked edge. “Right- shall we go in and show them what Herondales are made of?” He swung the door open to reveal the training room where Beatriz was putting a couple Academy graduates through their paces.

In the last days leading up to Christmas, Kit spent most of his time there, eager to see how he matched up against Shadowhunters his own age. To his surprise he fared fairly well, particularly in the hand-to-hand combat (he thanked Jem’s insistence that they always end their training sessions with a short bout of martial arts practice) and short-range weapons. Long range weapons on the other hand... Kit knew he had to improve there, as Isabelle Lightwood dodged an ill-fated throw and glared at him, the look in her eyes almost as sharp as his poorly thrown dagger. The other two teens - Darren Penhallow and Sarah Yardshead - for their part, were distantly friendly but often watched Kit with wariness, particularly when Jace infrequently appeared and Kit could hear their murmurs around ‘Herondales.’

When he wasn’t training, Kit shadowed Jace around, taking in the bustle of an actual working Institute and its routines. There was a lot more paperwork than he would have thought, Kit mused.

Then it was Christmas Eve and the Institute cleared out of all but the core group, and Kit managed to relax into the routines of the holiday season. He received some especially good presents on Christmas Day - a dark blue bomber jacket with a sheepskin-lined fleece from Jem and Tessa, a set of throwing knives from Jace and Clary, and a couple of books on Faerie lore from Magnus and Alec.

Still, after a few days of watching bad Christmas television and eating leftovers, Kit was intrigued when Jace appeared in gear and gestured mysteriously to him. He slipped a sleepy Mina out of his lap and over to Tessa. He followed Jace out of the warm room to find Clary and Simon in the corridor, also in gear and carrying weapons.

“We’re going on patrol,” Clary said, her green eyes assessing him. “Are you interested?”

“Hell yeah!” Kit said with enthusiasm, and he raced off to change.

They ran into a pack of Raum demons in the shadowy base of Brooklyn Bridge and Kit could feel his blood singing and adrenaline rushing through as he swung his seraph blade alongside the others, dispatching demon after demon.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jace moving with a swiftness that almost looked like dancing, his body a blur of movement and deadly grace.

Afterwards, he looked over at Kit, with a questioning look and Kit grinned at him. “That was fun- where are the rest?” he said. Simon stopped short as he walked up to them and heard Kit's reply. “Great- now we have not one but TWO Herondales to deal with,” he said, with a mock groan.

“You love us,” Jace said, with a wink at Kit.

Kit joined several more patrols before the end of the visit- sometimes with a small group, sometimes just him and Jace.

It was their last night before heading back to Devon, and he and Jace were perched on the parapet of a high rise building overlooking Central Park. Kit almost didn’t mind the height. Almost.

“What’s your plan after the spring?” Jace asked him casually.

“Hmm?” Kit was concentrating on not looking down but scanning the dark line of trees for movement.

“I know you’re planning to finish out your mundane school,” Jace said. “But after that- you’ll be eighteen, right?”

“Yeah,” Kit said. He had only a vague idea of what he was going to do… the deadline for UCAS was shortly after they returned but Kit knew instinctively he wasn’t going to be applying for any universities. But he hadn’t really made any other plans.

“A lot of Shadowhunters do travel years when they reach that age,” Jace replied. “Get experience in different institutes.”

“Oh, yeah I guess,” Kit said.

Jace cleared his throat, and Kit looked over. It almost looked like Jace was nervous. “I’ve been watching you- you’re really good, Kit. If you want, you could come to New York for some of your travel year. You can learn more on the ground- and we can help you figure this whole First Heir thing out,” he said. “I’d like that- I know Clary and the others would too.”

Kit stared at him. He’d miss Devon, and Tessa and Jem and Mina of course but... it hadn’t seemed real, Shadowhunter life. But Kit suddenly imagined what it could be like, living in New York, going on patrols, being more involved in what was his legacy.

“I’d like that- a lot,” he said slowly. “Yeah, let’s do it,” he said, more enthusiastically.

“Awesome,” Jace said, a relieved look crossing his face. He straightened up- “Oh- demon at your ten o’clock,” he said, and he stepped off the four story building without hesitation. Kit shook his head and prepared to follow.

–

Jace’s words echoed in Kit’s head and when they returned from New York Kit started stalking the local papers and local residents’ forums for any hint of unusual activity that might indicate demonic activity. Daily patrols would probably be better but given he was pretty sure he was the only active Shadowhunter in the Southwest of England, he had to be targeted in his approach. Plus, he still had papers to write for English Literature, and his final Film Studies project to work on…

But he couldn’t ignore it. He was a Shadowhunter, right? And practicing for demon hunting was probably more relevant to his future than a literary analysis of The Great Gatsby.

He debated bringing up his investigations to Jem and Tessa. “I noticed something odd,” Kit said, as they ate dinner one night in late January. Tessa looked up, and Jem paused in his daily wrestle with Mina to clean her face. Kit cleared his throat. “I think there’s some demonic activity near Torquay,” he said, and he quickly outlined his research.

Both Jem and Tessa were quiet after Kit finished and from the looks on their faces, he wasn’t sure they were convinced.

“When Magnus and I set up wards and checkpoints for unusual flares of magic across the county, it was for all kinds,” Tessa said. “Which would include demon attacks. I haven’t seen them flag anything in months.”

“Perhaps it’s still worth checking,” Jem said diplomatically. “We can visit the area on the weekend- if it is a demon it doesn’t sound like it’s moved yet to attack humans. You mentioned it was a mutilated cow carcass?”

Kit felt a sigh building internally. “Okay, fine,” he said.

“I know it must seem a bit dull after New York to come back to sleepy Devon,” Tessa said, her face full of sympathy. “But your time to patrol and save lives is coming, Kit.”

He agreed. But he had a nagging feeling there was something he had missed and the next evening, he slipped out with the excuse of working on his Film Studies project with Ellie. Kit slipped on his new bomber jacket - had to keep appearances. But in his backpack he had packed a change of gear, along with a selection of seraph blades, shuriken, and short throwing daggers. Along his arms, he inked fresh Equilibrium, Agility and Night Vision Marks.

It was probably nothing. But just in case, he could do some recon work ahead of him and Jem checking it out. He ignored the small internal voice warning about Faerie assassins - there hadn’t been anything to worry about since that time in November, plus he had the additional glamour protecting him now, he told himself.

The drive to Torquay was about half an hour from Cirenworth, and Kit put on some Bon Jovi for moral fortitude.

He parked his car outside the Kent Prehistoric Caverns, where he first had seen the clue on the local Devon Live website. The January air was cold and biting, particularly this close to the shore, and Kit kept his jacket on over his gear.

He carefully made his way through the caverns, sweeping his witchlight over the brown-red limestone walls and lightly made his way down the now-closed visitor trail, ducking under the rope separating the rest of the cave from the lit pathway. He wrapped his fist around the witchlight, dimming it as he headed in the dark, his skin still prickling with slight claustrophobia.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see several ghostly fires and figures huddled around them- the ghosts of this cavern were ancient- from around 10,000 years ago, from what Kit remembered when he had visited it earlier in the summer with Jem and Mina. Ghosts that old were more like faint imprints than proper spectral projections, and they didn’t disturb him as he methodically searched for clues of recent demonic presence.

Soon enough, his search paid off, He found scratch marks and blood spatters on the walls near the end of the cavern’s reach. It wasn’t definitive proof but it was something. Kit threw finger guns at the sabretooth tiger statue guarding the cave’s entrance as he left. “I’ll be back,” he said.

The next night, this time dressed in gear, Kit found more proof in the darkest depths of the caves - a bundle of foul black rags that looked like they had been dipped in ink that had dried. It wasn’t the nest but he was increasingly excited that he knew what he was dealing with. Kit had never been the best student when it came to Shadowhunter lore and he much preferred the physical training over learning demonic languages that sounded like a garbage disposal trying to mate with a lawnmower. But after his patrols with Jace, he had reviewed the different classifications of demons; he was sure this was a Harpyia demon- a birdlike demon that had wings made from rags instead of feathers.

Kit held his breath as he placed the rags into the bag he had brought. As he made his way back to the carpark, he paused. He knew he should bring the evidence back and show Jem… but he’d also have to explain why he had been out patrolling without a partner. Maybe… if he could track down the Harpyia down to its recent hunting grounds that would be the easier way to direct Jem to the hunt.

Kit drew the intricate Tracking rune on his left hand, connecting it to his evidence bag. Despite its messiness he could start to see the rune take effect, feeling the tug towards the Harpyia. He ran back to the car, and quickly reversed away and back out to the country road, eager to get underway.

–

His breath hanging in the air like grey smoke, Kit quietly closed the car door and carefully hopped up onto the low stone wall overlooking a dark field just outside of Torquay town limits. He had dropped the bag with the bloody rags onto the passenger seat, and in his left hand he held an unlit seraph blade. In his right, he held the silver Herondale dagger. With his Night Vision, he could see a herd of cows standing peacefully in the field, unaware of the large figure circling vulture-like over them. Bingo.

Kit slipped down, making his way back to the car. He started to lay his weapons down on the seat beside him; the seraph blade slipped down between the handbrake and the gearstick and Kit overbalanced as he grabbed at it. The car horn blared out into the silent night air and he gritted his teeth. Picking up the blade, he quickly looked out the window- shit, the demon was no longer in his eyeline. Kit sat, breathing silently as he dared and his eyes darted around to see if he could spot where it had gone. He couldn’t.

Blood rushing in his ears, Kit grabbed his stele, pushing up his sleeve. With only slightly trembling hands, he quickly inked a couple new Marks on his left forearm, knowing he’d need any help he could get. He had just finished the Talent rune when the car was suddenly rocked by a heavy weight landing on the roof, and Kit was thrown sideways across the seat. He scrambled over the back seat, and opened one of the doors, half-falling out onto the hard road. Ahead of him, he could see the large bulk of the Harpyia perched over the hood of his car. It hadn’t yet spotted that he had escaped from the vehicle, its beak pecking viciously at the front windshield.

Slipping his stele into his coat pocket, Kit transferred the seraph blade to his right hand, and named it. “Eriel,” he said, and it lit up, its heavenly light blazing in the dark night. The Harpyia turned and for the first time, Kit could see its large poison-yellow eyes, and rows of white teeth in its beak. Knowing he’d have a better advantage if he attacked first, he pressed forward, leaping onto the back of the car with one lunge and then the roof in the second, sweeping his blade forward.

The Harpyia screeched as it leaped backwards, its wings like a force of nature as they slammed into Kit. He was knocked off the car and as he landed heavily on his feet, he could feel a crack in his ankle and corresponding pain blossoming from the spot. But he couldn’t think about that now, as the Harpyia was over him, stabbing at him with its beak.

Kit rolled and ducked under its wings, and he directed the seraph blade into the meat of the Harpyia’s chest, hoping to connect with its vital organs. Black ichor spilled out, burning his fingers but the demon’s shriek sounded weaker and Kit went again for the same spot, then whipped around, wincing as he spun on his injured ankle, and tried for a head blow. It worked, to Kit’s relief, and the Harpyia shriveled up and disappeared into dust, just as his seraph blade sputtered and went out suddenly, leaving Kit in the dark. He slumped against the car door, breathing heavily, as if he’d run a mile sprint.

–

Kit eased himself into the back of the car, putting his injured ankle up onto the seat. From the brightness of the car’s interior light, he thought it looked puffy. He reached in his pocket for his stele to draw an iratze but his fingers closed on air. Kit cursed as he realised it must have fallen out while he was fighting. He went back outside, hopping on the other foot as he swept both his phone light and witchlight around an attempt to spot where it had gone. It wasn’t easily in sight and Kit could hear the small murmurings from the ditch where he suspected there was a small brook - likely it had been swept away.

He turned back to the car - luckily there were only a few scratches and small dents from the attack so Kit was fairly sure he could drive it back to Cirenworth where he could grab his other stele to heal his foot. He’d explain the whole situation in the morning to Jem, he thought, although he was still not looking forward to the situation. But there was only one problem, he realised - it was a manual car with two pedals, and there was no way he was going to be able to drive back safely, given his ankle.

Kit sat there, imagining Jem’s disappointment when he pulled up and he made his choice. He pulled out his phone and texted Ade. u up, mate?

It was just before eleven, so Kit thought that it was likely. He would’ve considered Ellie but he suspected she’d asked too many questions. Also, he knew Ade had first aid training so he was probably better for the situation, given his ankle was now really hurting.

There was no reply. Kit sighed and decided he’d bite the bullet. He texted Ellie, expecting the near instantaneous response that he usually got. Nothing.

Kit frowned and dialled her number.

“Kit?” It was Ade replying. “Mate, you have bad timing-” Ah- Kit suddenly realised the situation. He could hear Ellie in the background asking who it was.

“Sorry- I wouldn’t normally but I’m in a bit of a situation,” he said. Ellie’s voice said something and Ade came back to him. “Not gonna pretend I understand this- but is it a pizza situation?”

Kit sighed. “Yeah, it is.”

Ade looked up from where he was crouching down by Kit’s side. “You’ve properly fucked this ankle.”

Kit winced. “I know.”

“You should probably get it seen in urgent care,” Ade said, closing his first aid kit. “I can wrap it and we can drop you off there.”

“No, just- can you drop me off at my place?” Kit knew he’d be fine if he could just get to his spare stele.

“Mmm, you should probably-” Ade looked at him doubtfully but then relented when he saw Kit’s expression. “Okay, sure.”

“Hold on, we’re not going anywhere until you explain what the hell you were doing out here, dressed like an extra from Mission Impossible-” Ellie said, her eyes taking in Kit’s gear. He had thrown all of his weapons into the trunk before they had arrived.

“Cow wrestling? Extreme Parkour? Night photography?” Kit threw out suggestions. Damn, he should have gone with that last one as it sounded almost plausible.

Ellie gave him a look, and beyond her he could see Ade also looking distinctly unimpressed.

Ade stood. “Well- whatever it is, I’m cold and need to be up early for college, so here’s the plan- Ellie will drive your car back and I’ll follow, okay?”

Kit could just imagine the grilling he would get from Ellie on the way back, but he knew there was no other way. He’d just have to think fast. “Sure.”

Kit glanced over at Ellie, watching as she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she drove. He leaned forward to turn the radio on to cover the awkward silence. Her hand shot out and she stopped him, pushing up his sleeve in the process. Kit could see Ellie’s eyes dart briefly to his freshly drawn Marks and he felt his heart sink.

“What’re those?” she asked flatly. “They’re new.”

“They’re just- I’ve had them-” Kit knew he was floundering.

“No. Stop- stop fucking gaslighting me, Kit,” Ellie said. Her voice was tight with anger. “I thought we’re supposed to be friends. I know there’s something you’re not telling me- and you can’t keep expecting me to not notice.”

Kit took a deep breath but then he noticed a dark shape flying towards them in the sky, getting closer. His eyes widened and he shouted- but it was too late. The second Harpyia demon slammed into the windshield, and Kit felt his seatbelt constrict against his chest and his head slam back, as the car skidded off the road.

Fighting back after a few seconds of dazed confusion, Kit’s instincts kicked in and he quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, kicking open the door as he looked over at Ellie. She was groaning and he could see a small cut on her face from the shattered glass of the windshield. But her eyes were fluttering open and Kit took that as a sign she wasn’t badly hurt.

He scrambled out and ran around to the trunk, yanking it open and frantically grabbed several seraph blades and shuriken, attaching them to his weapons belt while keeping an eye overhead for the demon. He could see it circling in for another pass.

“Kit!” Ade jogged up to him, and Kit could see that he had parked his car a few feet behind him. His face was confused and worried as he took in the car and Kit’s frantic actions. “What the hell is happening?”

“Get down- go check on Ellie,” Kit yelled, and pushed Ade towards the other side of the car. “I’ll deal with this.”

“What the fuck is this?” Ade said, his voice growing louder with anger, and Kit remembered that he probably couldn’t see the Harpyia.

Problems to deal with later as he could see it coming towards them, its massive claws outreached. “Michael,” Kit named the blade, and he could feel his muscles straining as he engaged with the demon. He was so focused on keeping it away and the heat of the battle, that he almost forgot he had hurt his ankle. Unfortunately, it had not gone away and stabs of pain distracted him as he hurried the Harpyia, trying to get a good angle. He threw several shuriken with his free hand but as it was his non-dominant hand they landed at the far edges of the creature’s wings, barely wounding it.

Talons swiped at his face, and Kit could feel them briefly connect with a stinging pass. He took a step back, jarring his ankle again as he stumbled on the uneven ground. The Harpyia screeched, rearing up for another strike at him.

Then suddenly it whipped around, and Kit could see a small figure standing just behind it. Ellie, holding one of Kit’s rapiers; she looked scared but furious. A few feet behind her, he could see Ade holding a large rock in his hand, his face set grimly. Kit’s heart was in his mouth and he struggled to his feet, propping himself up on a knee.

He needed to get to his friends. There was no way they could stand against it. Ellie was holding the sword in a classic stage-fighting pose as the Harpyia edged closer to her. It looked like it was about to strike. Kit hobbled forward, seraph blade outstretched.

But he was too late. It struck, lightning-fast, like a rattlesnake and Ellie screamed.

Kit’s training and adrenaline took over, and he slashed and parried, managing to drive the Harpyia back, squawking as it flew off. Kit knew it would be back but that was unimportant right now. He ran.

He and Ade reached Ellie’s crumpled form at the same time. Ade moved her gently onto her back, Kit helping him. His hands were suddenly slick with liquid, and he could see her torn shirt glistening in the moonlight with blood, and there were other areas that looked like torn up muscle… and other stuff. Kit wanted to throw up.

“Ellie, Ellie-” Kit said, helplessly- he held her hands. She looked up at him, confusion on her face and he could see her struggling to breathe, a frothy sound coming from her throat.

“You’ve gotta- Ellie, love- just breathe,” Ade’s voice was low and calm, beside Kit. He pulled off his jacket and balled it up, pressing it up against her stomach tightly. He looked over and Kit could see the fear in his eyes. “We need to get her to a hospital now.”

Kit could hear it in Ade’s voice: Ellie was going to die if they didn’t move. She still might. And there was a demon coming around for another pass at them. “Hold this-” Ade moved Kit’s hands down roughly to the balled up jacket on Ellie’s stomach, as he pulled out his phone.

Kit felt a sensation building in him, similar to the time he was on the battlefield in Idris. His Talent rune began to burn, almost like a brand on his arm. But this time, instead of cold fire, he could feel warm, golden heat building in his veins. It started pooling down towards his hands and he could see a golden glow begin to emanate from them. Suddenly, the feeling rocketed, and he could see the glow pulse and pass from his hand down through Ade’s jacket. Ade paused, his phone halfway out.

A large shriek echoed overhead, and Kit looked up, seeing the Harpyia almost upon them. With instinct, Kit threw one of his hands up, as if to ward it off, and there was a sudden burst of golden light shooting from his hand. The Harpyia exploded, a shower of stinking rags and black ichor suddenly raining down on them.

The scene in front of him started swimming in front of his eyes, and Kit held desperately onto consciousness. He fell onto his knees, beside Ellie, and he could feel Ade gripping his shoulders. “I’m fine…” Kit pushed him away.

“WHAT was that?!” He could hear Ellie’s voice in the background. He looked up to see her pushing away a hovering Ade. The jacket covering her fell away and he could see Ade frown, as he lifted up Ellie’s blood-stained shirt. The previously-torn skin was now a smooth, gleaming surface, like it had never been touched. Ade sat back, dumbfounded and he looked over at Kit.

“You!” Ellie’s eyes were shining, as she pointed at Kit. “You’re- a fucking wizard, Kit!” She looked triumphant. “I knew there was something strange about you. I KNEW it.”

–

They ended up taking Ade’s car back to Cirenworth, Kit’s Ford being completely totalled from the attack. Kit sat in the back, feeling utterly drained. He put off the inevitable questions by telling Ellie and Ade that he’d explain everything when they got back- Ellie looked prepared to argue until Ade pulled her aside and whispered something and she looked over at Kit and nodded.

His whole body ached- including the now-pulsating pain from his ankle. As they pulled into Cirenworth’s driveway, Kit could feel the anxiety ball in his stomach coalesce into a cold, pulling sensation and he swallowed hard, imagining Jem and Tessa’s reactions. He had texted them briefly, so they would be up. He knew he had absolutely fucked up tonight, and he knew they had all been very lucky to survive the encounter with the demon.

They were both waiting in the doorway, as Kit slowly limped up, his arm around Ade’s shoulder. Tessa and Jem took in his torn clothes and bloody arms, and Ellie’s blood-stained clothes, even though she was absolutely fine now from whatever Faerie healing magic Kit had done.

It was dark and Kit couldn’t read their expressions well. “Come inside and I’ll put the kettle on,” Tessa said, putting her arms around Ellie, as Jem came to help Ade with Kit.

Both Ade and Ellie watched with fascination as Jem carefully unwrapped Kit’s ankle and examined it, then drew an iratze just above, on his calf. “It’s broken in a couple places,” he told Kit. “The iratze can only heal so much. You’ll still need to keep weight off it for a couple days.” His face was as calm and tranquil as always but Kit thought he could see a flash of emotion passing through his eyes. He’s furious, Kit thought, miserably. He nodded at Jem, not trusting himself to speak. Jem moved to look at the ichor burns on his hands, cleaning out the cuts with a clean cloth, and taking out a salve to rub into the burns.

Ade looked like he wanted to ask Jem some questions, his eyes flicking down to the iratze but at that point Tessa came back into the parlour, with a tray filled with tea and biscuits. She set it down and took a seat in the armchair across, her sharp eyes quickly assessing the situation.

“Anyone else hurt, other than Kit?” Jem asked.

Both his friends shook their heads. “But Ellie was before Kit healed her,” Ade said. “It was absolutely mental- she had major blood loss and her stomach and chest were torn up. I think she had punctured a lung.”

Both Jem and Tessa swung their gaze to Kit. “Yeah- I uh-was able to heal her with my power,” Kit said.

“Plus, he made the creature attacking us explode,” Ellie interjected.

“It was very fortunate that Kit was able to summon the ability to do so,” Jem said gravely. “Otherwise, it could’ve been much worse.” Kit could feel Tessa’s gaze burning into him.

Kit quickly filled in the rest of the night’s events for Jem and Tessa, Ellie occasionally adding in a comment, while Ade stayed quiet.

When he finished, there was silence until Ellie spoke. “Okay, so… spill the tea,” she said. “What kind of wizards are you- you’re wizards, right? Or has J.K. Rowling led us wrong all these years?” Ade’s gaze kept darting back and forth between them all, and Kit couldn’t read his expression completely but thought he looked nervous.

Despite the serious situation, Tessa’s lips twitched with amusement while as always, Jem looked absolutely lost at the pop culture references. “Actually- I’m a warlock,” she said. “But I think we should let Kit explain- we’ll fill in when necessary.”

And so Kit gave a brief summary of Shadowhunting history, the Downworld, and a very heavily edited version of his own history, with Jem and Tessa chiming in occasionally. He didn’t mention the First Heir stuff but did mention that he was laying low from the Downworld, due to his family’s history.

There was silence after he finished. “Wow-” Ellie said. Ade again didn’t say anything, just continued to sip his drink, his dark brown eyes assessing the situation. His continued silence made Kit feel worse.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Tessa said. “I think it’s best that you both stay overnight here, get out of your bloodstained clothes and we can figure out what story to tell your parents in the morning.”

“Does this mean that you’re not going to erase our memories?” Ellie asked hopefully. “I totally thought that’s what you were going to do.”

“If that was the case, El, why would they have given us an explanation?” Ade said logically.

“Point-” Ellie said. She looked over at Kit. “We have so much to go over, Kit Herondale.”

Kit nodded. It seemed like they both were taking their near-death situation - alongside the knowledge that their friend was a hunter of demons - better than he had thought they would.

As Tessa led them out to the guest bedrooms, Kit started to hoist himself up but was stopped by Jem. “Let me get you a cane so you don’t put weight on your ankle,” he said.

By the time Jem returned, Kit had worked himself up into a state, imagining that Jem was about to yell at him. But that wasn’t Jem’s style, Kit reminded himself.

And it wasn’t - but it was much worse. Jem handed him the cane, and then sat across from him, face mostly unreadable. They sat there in silence, Kit staring at the floor. He was about to get up and go to bed when Jem spoke, his voice carefully neutral. “I’m disappointed in your judgment, Kit. I don’t know what you were thinking going out alone- and then calling your friends, instead of us. Harpyia always hunt in pairs.”

“I know, I know- I was so stupid, Jem- I’m sorry,” Kit said, the words tumbling out.

An emotion that Kit couldn’t read flashed over Jem’s face. He sighed, dropping his head briefly. “As Tessa said- best to pick this up in the morning.”

Kit nodded. He slowly made his way to his room. All the way up, and during the brief shower and then lying down on his bed, his heart thudded painfully in time with the words running in his head. Screw up, idiot, waste of space, they hate you, they won’t want you now

Early the next morning, he shuffled down to the kitchen and set the kettle boiling. He grabbed the biggest mug they had and spooned in a tablespoon of the instant coffee that Tessa always had to hand, and added in four teaspoons of sugar. The kitchen was quiet and peaceful, with no one else around. He pulled out his phone - six am. He sat at the table, and started to scroll mindlessly through social media, sipping at the sugar, caffeine-rich coffee. He had barely slept and his stomach was churning at the prospect of the conversations he was going to have to have later in the day - with Jem, with Tessa, with Ade, with Ellie....

There was a noise in the doorway, and Kit could see Jem standing there, a shadow in a green and blue striped bathrobe.

He came over to the table, and sat down with deliberation, his dark eyes watching Kit. He made an abortive move as if to speak but then thought better of it.

Kit braced himself. He knew Jem had a kind soul and was likely having trouble telling him the necessary plans that he and Tessa had made. “I’m sorry. Go ahead- let me know what I need to do or if, if- I uh, I need to leave. I know I betrayed yours and Tessa’s trust and I screwed up and nearly got my friends killed…” To Kit’s horror, he could feel his voice crack and the world in front of him blurred as tears started falling onto the table.

He could hear the kitchen chair creak as Jem leapt up and came to kneel by Kit’s chair. “Kit, Kit- look up, please,” he said. Kit brushed tears back and looked at Jem. “Listen to me- you’re not leaving- that never crossed my mind. Or Tessa’s. There’s absolutely nothing in the world you could do, that would stop me caring about you. That would stop me from loving you. You’re my-” Jem’s voice cracked with emotion. “You’re my son, and I love you, will love you, no matter what.”

He held Kit tightly as Kit’s tears continued to fall, hot and fast onto Jem’s shoulder, his body still shaking slightly as he tried to calm it down and focus on Jem’s words. Eventually, the shaking eased and he started to relax. “You were upset with me,” he whispered, barely able to believe Jem- but somehow he did.

“I was- because it was an incredibly ill-thought out plan but also... when you came in, covered in blood-” Jem told him, his voice muffled. “I was so scared. I can count on one hand the times that I had felt like that.” He leaned back from Kit, a wry smile crossing his face. “Tessa says it’s partly because I haven’t raised a teenager before.”

“I’m sorry,” Kit said again. “I know I keep saying it but I really am.”

“I know,” Jem replied. “I also want it to be known though, if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will set Church as your twenty four hour bodyguard, and he will report to me and you’ll be responsible for cleaning out his litter basket for the rest of his natural life.”

Kit frowned. “Isn’t he functionally immortal?”

“Yes.” Jem was firm.

Kit took a deep, shuddering breath. “Totally fair. And it won’t happen again.”

There was a faint cry from Mina’s nursery and Jem started to turn. He paused but Kit nodded at him to go. “I’m okay.”

“We still have a lot to discuss-” Jem said. “Namely, the reappearance of your magic.” Kit nodded again.

–

Ade and Ellie came down shortly afterwards, Ellie wearing a borrowed dress of Tessa’s and Ade mostly in the same clothes, except for a borrowed hoodie of Kit’s. Ade shook his head at the offer of tea or food. “I’m gonna head back home- I think I could probably sneak back in without my parents noticing and it’ll cut down on the awkward questions.”

“Okay,” Kit said, trying to assess Ade’s reactions.

“Relax, mate-” Ade saw him looking. “We’re good. I’m not about to rat you out to the wizard cops or whatever,” he grinned. “Come around to the shed after classes though, yeah? I still have questions.” Kit quickly agreed, and Ade leaned over to Ellie and gave her a kiss before leaving.

“I’m not going anywhere yet,” she told Kit. “We have stuff to talk about.” Ellie sat down across from him. “You saved my life,” she said.

Kit winced. “Technically I also put your life in danger.”

She waved that away. “Semantics. I’m less upset about last night, although it was a rollercoaster of a night. I will probably have nightmares for a year,” she said, pausing dramatically. Ellie looked at him directly. “What I do have a problem with is you lying to me practically since we met.”

“You’re right, I did,” Kit said. “But also and this doesn’t make it right- not an excuse - but I kind of wasn’t supposed to mention any of this stuff to mundanes? But now you know, so no more lying, promise.” He crossed his heart and Ellie smiled.

“Okay, well... we can discuss what you can do to make it up to me,” she replied. She eyed the kettle. “After tea and breakfast.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kit scrambled up to re-boil the kettle. Over several pieces of toast, Ellie asked questions at such a rapid-fire pace that Kit started feeling overwhelmed himself.

“So how come I can always see your tattoos?” she eventually asked. “I asked Ade about it, and he barely notices them.”

“I think you have something called the Sight,” Kit told her. “It’s an ability that allows you to see through Shadowhunter and Downworld glamour magic. Among other things.”

She sat up in excitement, nearly spilling her mug of tea. “What?? I’m not a full muggle?”

“Mundane,” Kit corrected. “Mmm, no- probably not. Somewhere in your ancestry, you have some Shadowhunter or Faerie blood.”

“Cool…” Ellie breathed. She pointed at Kit’s Marks, which were on full display, twining up his arms. “So I could wear those?” She held out an arm. “Draw one on me!”

“Ahh, no,” Kit said with alarm. He pushed her hand back down. “If I drew a rune on you, there’s a good chance you’ll end up as a sort of zombie, or die horribly screaming from internal combustion.”

Ellie’s eyes went large. “Oooh, right.” She went silent for a minute. “How do you become one, a Shadowhunter?” she asked. “Is it a bit like the muggleborns at Hogwarts? You have to go to a special school?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Kit told her. “There’s an Academy. But afterwards there’s an extra step- you have to drink from this artifact called the Mortal Cup, and then you Ascend. Not everyone makes it though,” he added.

“What happens to them?”

Kit wasn’t entirely sure. “I don’t know. But they die. Probably from burning up. Raziel, that’s the Angel who gave the Shadowhunters their runes and magic, seems to be a ‘set things on holy fire’ type of guy.”

“Jeez, that’s grim,” Ellie said. “And they let teenagers choose to do that?”

“Yeah but they find it an acceptable loss,” Kit said. “I was only kind of lying when I said it was like a cult. It’s a- I didn’t grow up knowing I was a Shadowhunter. So a lot of things still shock me too.”

“Huh,” Ellie said. “I have more questions around that but let’s switch to a more interesting topic." She swirled her remaining tea, and drained it and gave Kit an intent look. “So… what hot Shadowhunter boy broke your heart in L.A.?”

Kit stiffened but he met her eyes with a challenge. “Who said-” and then he realised, actually maybe he did want to talk about Ty.

“Ty. Tiberius Blackthorn,” he said, in a low voice.

“Tiberius- wow, that’s a super YA fantasy novel name,” Ellie said, her eyes sparkling. She leaned forward. “Tell me more.”

“What’s very YA fantasy?” Tessa said, as she came into the kitchen with a yawn.

“Kit’s life,” Ellie said, with satisfaction. “It’s great.” She mouthed at him, later.

“Indeed, he does have adventures that would fit well within a YA novel,” Tessa said, ruffling Kit’s hair. Her voice was a mix of fondness and exasperation but after his conversation with Jem, Kit was no longer as scared as he had been. He leaned back, letting his mind wander as Tessa and Ellie started to debate the merits of a series called ‘A Court of Thorns and Roses’.

Luckily, Ade had fewer questions than Ellie. He looked up as Kit limped into the home gym and his easy smile also set Kit at ease.

“Hey, wizard boy,” he teased.

“Please, I am Mr Shadowhunter to you,” Kit said. “Sorry for almost killing you and Ellie by the way," he added quickly. "That hunt went south way too quickly but I should never have called you in the first place.”

Ade shook his head. “Mate, I was so sure when I woke up this morning that I had dreamed the whole thing.”

“Nope,” Kit said. “Sorry to burst that bubble. But Tessa did say that if you wanted… she can cast a memory spell so you’d forget or think you’d dreamed it.” He didn’t mention that she was still waiting outside for another five minutes in case he needed her.

“Nahh, I’m good, I’m good,” Ade said hastily.

“So… you said you had more questions?”

Ade nodded. Unlike Ellie, his questions were primarily about demons, how many there were, what kinds, did he have to worry about his family and friends with them? Kit was able to reassure him that demon attacks were rare and they generally happened in cities- but also, that Shadowhunters were usually patrolling in those cities. Ade nodded.

Then he asked: “Can I see them? Those tattoos that Ellie keeps talking about?”

Kit nodded, he had expected something like that, and he hadn’t bothered refreshing the glamours. He sat down on the nearest bench and pulled off his shirt. Ade came up and circled around him, taking in with a clinical eye Kit’s fresh, black runes, and the fading scars that even after only two years were already prominent on Kit’s torso.

He whistled. “You must do a lot more training than what we do here.”

“Yeah,” Kit admitted. “I train a lot with Jem. And sometimes others.”

“That’s a relief- I thought I was just crap at it,” Ade said, with a small smile. He gestured towards Kit’s Marks. “And these, they help you fight?”

Kit nodded, and started naming the different ones he had inked on his body and what they did.

Ade lingered on the iratzes, his gaze almost envious. “With those ones you must not have to go to the doctor very often.”

“I’ve never been,” Kit told him honestly. “Or not that I can remember.”

Ade was quiet for a minute. Kit assumed the questions were over and he pulled his shirt back on.

“Kit… you’re not going to uni, are you?” It was barely a question.

“No,” Kit said quietly. “To be honest, I don’t know if I’ll even get to finish my A-levels or stay at Cirenworth… things in the Downworld, in my life, are kinda in flux and I might have to leave suddenly.”

Ade nodded. “Yeah, I kind of thought that might be the case.” He looked over at Kit. “But look- even if you have to go off and be a big damn hero, don’t just disappear, okay? Keep in touch. I’d like to know we’re both out there, saving lives- me as a medic and you as a demon hunter.” He smiled but there was a sad cast to it.

Kit nudged him. “I’m not gone yet, mate.” He pointed to the set of weights. “You wanna do some sets?”

“God no,” Ade said. “After last night’s adventure, I could barely make it through classes today. Let’s go back inside and play some Ghost Recon.”

When Kit arrived back at Cirenworth, having been dropped off by Ade, his energy was flagging and he decided he would just head straight up to his room, feeling justified by the last day’s efforts.

But Tessa stopped him as he passed through the kitchen, and handed him something. “This came in the post today.”

Kit looked down and saw the heavy envelope with his name written in a spikey scrawl. His heart started pounding, as he realised what it was. A letter from Ty.

He stammered out a quick excuse to Tessa and raced up the stairs as quick as the cane and his ankle would allow. Once inside his room, he sat down on the bed, turning the letter over.

But suddenly, Kit was aware of another sensation - a warm feeling on his forearm, where his Talent rune was. He pushed his sleeve up and stared. The rune had turned a deep golden colour and he could see tendrils of the same colour running under his skin towards his hands, like his veins were filled with gold. From deep within his chest, Kit felt a peaceful, ancient power emanating out slowly and he could see the same golden colour gather in his palm, like a cold, unburning flame.

He yelled down. “TESSA, JEM.” They flew into the room, Jem holding a startled Mina.

And Kit just pointed at his hand. “Look!”

#tsc fanfiction #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kit x ty #the dark artifices #the wicked powers #jace herondale #clary fray #tessa gray #jem carstairs #teenage angst #teenage rebellion #found family #slow burn #my fanfic #effortless #alicantenet #secrets of blackthorn hall

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the-darkdragonfly · 1 year

Text

New Chapter!! Obliviate: A Dramione Tale

Chapter Three - Samhain

The end of the war is nearing, and its not clear which side will win. The hunt for Muggle-borns is intensifying and Harry knows he needs to hide her. Save her. With no family, Hermione starts a new life in America, unaware that the man she meets at the library one day used to be a schoolmate. A wizard.

Narcissa Malfoy is desperate. The Dark Lord has ruined everything now with his sights firmly set on her son once more, she does the only thing she can think of that might keep his safe. She obliviates him, sending into the Muggle world where he stands a chance at a safer life, even if it’s without her in it.

♥️♥️♥️

Ummmm.... so it's the middle of December, sort of... somehow???

Gross.

I'm sorry! I meant to post this last month but things are dumb and I'm much later than I wanted to be.

♥️♥️♥️

“I have had an idea,” his suite door flew open, revealing a wind-mussed Granger, her hair curling around her head as she unwound the red and yellow scarf, coiled around her like a sleeping cat.

He had given her a keycard-mind you don’t lose it, please- the week prior, after having been alerted by the front desk staff that a friend was waiting for him in the lobby and while they did wish to provide him with the privacy he deserved as their Most Distinguished Guest, would he perhaps be amenable to meeting his friends outside the hotel and escorting them himself? He had laughed, finding Hermione red-faced and brimming with self righteous indignation, her harsh whispers- I’m not God damn Julia Roberts- accompanying her stomping, angry footsteps as he ushered her into the lift. He had promised to clear it up with the front desk immediately, and had placated her by pressing a spare card into her hand.

Since then, she’d become unpredictable- get yourself a cell phone and I’ll call you ahead of time, how ‘bout that?- in her visiting hours and he was both delighted and confused to find more and more of her belongings making his set of rooms their permanent home.

Draco looked up from his tea, the sitting room, in perfect order from housekeeping hours before, once again looked like a discount clothing store, Hermione’s belongings being flung around the space like confetti. He swallowed a grimace and raised an eyebrow instead. She plowed on, her coat joining the heap of outerwear on the cream coloured armchair before flopping down beside him and stealing a biscuit from his tray- I swear to God, woman, you were raised by wolves, do use a saucer this time, I shall beg if I need to- her pale pink scrubs smelling faintly of antiseptic and what Draco had privately referred to as Eau D’Old Person.

“Since I am the only one out of the two of us who is clever enough to have a drivers,” she stopped to pick up her tea mug, sans saucer, and take a careful sip of the Earl Gray he had ordered- pleb- ignoring his barb, “I think we should rent a car and go to Salem for the day tomorrow.”

“What’s Salem?”

“A town,” she said through a mouthful of chocolate-covered digestive. “I saw it on a pamphlet at the front desk. It’s only an hour away.”

He raised an eyebrow again.

“They had witch trials there, it’s quite famous.”

“Witches?”

“Yup.”

“Real ones?”

“Obviously not,” she rolled her eyes, snatching another biscuit before he could bat her fingers away- use your saucer- and popping the whole thing in her mouth, “witches aren’t real.”

♥️♥️♥️

Read the rest here.

Read my other stuff here.

Tagging 🥰 (i would love love love to add you - just let me know!)

@elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @sailtoafarawayland @stahlop @xarandomdreamx @xxdeliriouslybookishxx @mysteriouscatstellation @batana54

#Obliviate #a Dramione Tale #the darkdragonfly #draco x hermione #dramione #dramione fanfic #muggle world draco #memory charms

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desertdollranch · 2 years

Note

On the topic of guessing which face mold she-who-shall-remain-unnamed will have, I remember back in 2018 when Blaire's book cover leaked, a lot of people thought she'd have the Marie-Grace mold, based on her cartoonish illustration. They were quite surprised when she ended up being a Josefina mold!

Fast forward to 2021, I remember several people speculating that Corinne would have the #4 mold. Not entirely sure where that theory came from, though.

In both cases, it certainly would be interesting if AG had brought back those molds, but I just really can't see them doing so.

I think people hoped that Blaire would have the Marie-Grace mold because even three years ago, the Josefina mold had been used for so many dolls all in a row. And because the MG mold is so beloved, and there are a limited number of dolls in the world who have it. Big mistake on AG's part to permanently retire that mold and never use it for another doll! They would have seen massive sales and interest in Blaire had they gone that route.

I had to scrub all pre-release speculation about Corinne from my blog last December, but from what I recall, we were speculating that she might have the #4 mold because the doll hospital very suddenly had replacement #4 heads in stock, after the supply had been depleted for a few years. That fact was revealed right around the trademark for Corinne's name appeared, and so people assumed those two events were connected.

You know what I think, is that they did originally plan for the #4 mold to be used for Corinne. But for whatever reason, they couldn't go through with it, and so had to come up with a new mold. Which actually turned out to be a good thing! That's now four face molds (#4, Jess, Nanea, and Corinne) that represent AAPI people. And maybe they will be able to someday bring the #4 mold back in some other way, possibly for a World By Us character.

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hrodvitnon · 1 year

Note

Being inspired by another person who said something similar…

I have come up with a cohesive timeline that is in a way, one big domino effect that leads to everything in one world being "fixed" & another ruined by the side effect of that "fixing".

(Heisei will be in blue, Monsterverse/Abraxasverse in red; the part of the timeline that's orange is the convergence point)

-The events of Godzilla vs King Ghidorah play out in 1991.

-A man named Seto Minori quickly rises the ranks in G-Force's science wing, proposing a radical idea of constructing a satellite weapon with the technology of an undisclosed super material to shoot at Godzilla at the most well timed moment.

-The events of Godzilla (2014) play out unimpeded. MONARCH reveals itself to the world in the aftermath.

-5 years pass & the events of King of the Monsters plays out. In Antarctica, Vivienne Graham dies via being eaten by Ghidorah. After the left head is ripped off in Mexico, it's revealed that the alien Titan kept Graham's mind & body alive…

-The events of the fic, Abraxas, plays out.

-Seto's radical idea is debated by G-Force high command, but is ultimately accepted. Construction of the weapon begins just before the beginning of 1992.

-The events of Godzilla vs Mothra plays out.

-The weapon is at 10% completion after Mothra seals away Godzilla & Battra's corpse, but the King of the Monsters emerging just fine 2 months later hastens the construction.

-Construction is somewhat lessened due to the rapid construction of Mechagodzilla from the remains of Mecha King Ghidorah. Seto is determined to see the weapon's completion, and carries on.

-Abraxas ends, and the Post-Abraxas timeline(s) begin to form.

-Godzilla detects another creature that smells like him, and finds Shin. He ultimately adopts the being into his family.

-The APEX facility that housed Junior is discovered, and Godzilla adopts him while the cloning aspect is used against APEX by Monarch in the aftermath of Godzilla vs Kong.

-The events of Godzilla vs Mechagodzilla play out, with the superweapon at 58% and counting completion. It's at 73% by the time Mechagodzilla is destroyed.

-The Crystal Cordyceps incident plays out. Godzilla is forced to put his brother down, traumatizing him. In the aftermath, it is debated on what humanity should do with the Crystal Cordyceps.

-The events of Godzilla vs Spacegodzilla plays out in 1994, with the weapon at 98% completion. Seto narrowly avoids being killed in the final battle. It is at 100% completion once Spacegodzilla is killed.

-Humanity decides to use the cordyceps for use in warfare & experiments. Godzilla finally snaps & goes on a strategic rampage against all of humanity.

-At Birth Island, where Godzilla is at his most vulnerable caring for Junior, Seto times & shouts for the weapon to activate. Up in space, the weapon charges up, and fires down on Godzilla's position below.

-Godzilla notices the beam & dark energy flying down toward him at the last second, but is too slow to react.

-Godzilla disappears from reality on December 31st, 1994.

-Godzilla continues to destroy humanity & brings down their cities & civilization one by one. Suddenly, there is a surge of energy off the coast of Los Angeles…

-Heisei Godzilla awakens in this new reality, and immediately sees & approaches a vaguely similar copycat of himself.

-MV!Godzilla quickly overwhelms the intruder from another reality, & knocks him unconscious.

-Heisei Godzilla awakens with a slight concussion hours later, and diverts the attention of the Abraxas family to personally track the native Gojiran.

-He ultimately catches his counterpart's scent, and goes on the hunt…

-Setting the stage for the next and far more brutal confrontation.

Welp, let's see how this one plays out, shall we?

#wagrilous 23 #place your bets

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kokiafans · 1 year

Photo

25th anniversary concert: you and me

Source: KOKIA.com/blog, December 8, 2022

I revealed the title and logo of my 25th anniversary the other day, but now the visual imagery for the concert has been chosen!

The key visual is this picture where I go ‘cheers!’; it’s a picture I had taken just the other day in London, and doesn’t it make you anticipate an exciting concert to be held? The camera man for these visuals is Monsieur Nakamura*, who has been my primary concert photographer for a long time.

When I think back on it, he also came with me on my European tour to take photos... thinking about it, time is just passing, but there are so many things I still want to do... it started my engine for wanting to do concerts in Europe again.

Well, now that the key visuals for the concert have been decided, there’s just a wait left until December 25 for the general ticket sales. However, ahead of that, there’s currently a ◎ ‘final special pre-sale just ahead of the general ticket sales (lottery)’, running until December 11 (Sunday), 23:59. After the general ticket sales, the vacant seats will be assigned to you systematically starting from the front, so this information is your last chance for better seats as long as there are seats available for applicants.

The URL for the general ticket sale is the same, and starts ◎December 265, 2022 (Sunday) at 12:00.

Christmas.

An album release.

A job well done at the end of one year.

Greetings to the start of another year.

Celebrating my 25th anniversary.

Let’s make a toast to all of those, shall we? ‘Cheers!’

Each time, I feel like I’m bursting with joy. Each time, my heart dances.

you and me: if I hadn’t gotten to meet you, surely I never would have experienced these feelings.

Thank you.

* Translator’s note: the use of ‘Monsieur’ is conjecture on my part; the Japanese says Musshu Nakamura, with Musshu meaning ‘monsieur’ and that order being the western, not the Japanese word order for names.

#KOKIA #translation #translation: blog #KOKIA 25th anniversary countdown

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safyresky · 2 months

Text

YESTERDAY was the THIRTEENTH!

You know what that means: another year has been crossposted to ao3. Another FROSTMAS YEAR, that is!

Year Four

After a year of radio silence across the board, Santa Jack calls a late December Council Meeting to unveil his brilliant plan.

Check out Year 4 HERE on ao3! COMPLETE with new glow up featuring:

Another shift from 7k words to 12k words--NOW WITH MORE DIALOGUE AND SILLIES!

We here at safyrsky industries DISLIKE bad characterizations of MN, and regret to inform you all that Y4 WAS rife with that exact thing. We have since patched it so that mean MN is gone, and tired, ready to kill, very nice Mother Nature has taken meanie mn's place :)

This does, of course, mean that Jacqueline is going through it, but that's the fun part! :D

Not sure what to heck a Frostmas is? That's cool beans! I shall. Learn you! Have a summary:

The Twelve Years of Frostmas

Nobody but he and I knew the truth. Jack wasn’t supposed to be Santa; I wasn’t supposed to be Jack Frost. He thought being Santa would fix everything. He was horribly, horribly mistaken. [My take on Jack’s reign as Santa during the Escape Clause. MAJOR OC involvement AND First Person POV from said OC. Finally cross posting THIS behemoth! Enjoy!]

Interested? Take it from the top HERE on ao3! And here on ff dot net, where it is done up to Year 10.

And have a very dramatique snippet of Y4...under the cut! :)

“Ignoring that too,” Jack growled, behind me now. He cleared his throat. “So I thought to myself, I though, what if I did what those guys did? What if I brought the children to me?”

I’ve never really experienced an ice cold chill down my back. I’m quite fond of chills, actually, and I’ll admit I’m a little perplexed whenever someone uses that phrase. What’s not to love about an icy chill, right? Get yourself a cozy blanket and the sleep conditions are to die for.

But when Jack said that, I think it’s safe to say that all of us—the current Jack Frost included—felt an icy cold chill run down our backs, to the point where I almost stood up and shouted I DIDN’T DO IT THAT ONE’S NOT ON ME!

“No,” Bernard said, breaking the silence. “You’re not going where I think you’re going with this. Right? Right?!”

"Ladies, gents, fur balls, babies, fairies, elf, and annoying little sister. I give you, the newest—and one hundred percent authentic—Christmas theme park: The North Pole!" with a flourish, he rounded the table (back by his seat now) and pulled the sheet off of the bumpy platform, revealing a full scale diorama of the North Pole. With a wave of his hand, the diorama lit up; and it was…it was awful.

Cupid fell out of the air, right onto the floor. Sandman looked faint; Bunny had gotten up and stepped back, knocking Tooth Fairy right out of his seat. Mother Nature and Father Time looked…beyond stunned. I was mortified.

"The Village Square will be where it all takes place! Ticket gates here in front of the workshop, here they can tour the workshop and make their own toy…look at this!" He gestured to the model. "We can make a tidy little profit with parents bringing their kids to make sure they're on the nice list and get their toys! They get to come meet Santa, I get to stay safely put, and we make a tidy little profit to keep things going up here. It’s brilliant! I’m brilliant.”

"No. Absolutely not. No, no, no and no! Santa, do you have any idea how wrong this is?" Bernard began, nobody stopping him; everyone was too shocked to say anything. "Not only are you breaking the Secret of Santa, but if you were even able to get away with this—which you won't be��you would destroy Christmas as we know it!"

"Kids would lose their belief," Father Time’s eyes seemed to glaze over as he looked into time itself. "There is so much potential for this to end badly. Naughty kids will be at an all time high and those less fortunate would stop believing in everything, not just Santa. You could potentially destroy all of magical culture as we know it. Perhaps, worst possible case scenario, the World."

Jack faltered for a minute; a brief, brief minute. "But that probably won't happen, you're always saying time is delicate and can be subject to a lot of change and whatever other old man mumbo-jumbo that comes out of your mouth. Wouldn’t belief soar, given that people would come here to the centre of it all?"

Father Time growled, for lack of a better word for the sound he made. He opened his mouth to begin, but Mother Nature gently touched his shoulder, pulling him back a bit and shaking her head. He quirked an eyebrow. She nodded.

Forgoing all formality, she turned to Santa, her face crestfallen. “Jack. What in the world makes you think this will pass? What makes you think we’d allow this?”

“It’s all about the pitch, Mother Nature! Imagine the profit! We could split it, you know. Forty for you guys, sixty for me. Imagine the franchising! We could branch out,” he poked at the twigs in her skirt. “Eh? Mother Nature’s Garden—we could host weddings there! Easter Bunny could have his own park, Cupid—why, we could be as big as Disney World! Better, even! Kids would come from all over to see us, to see me! The real, live, actual Santa Claus!”

A THEME PARK>?!?!?! I mean. We knew it was coming! How will the Council take this? How will Jacqueline take this? CAN IT BE STOPPED?!?!?! Find out all this and MORE within Year 4, right HERE :)

AND the Frostmas Y5 Behind the Scenes RIGHT HERE :)

#dani speaks #and mind any typos! I still have to do a run through it for a third edit #but i've been at my inlaws all weekend so i've yet to have a chance to properly sit and relax and do that #anyway! enjoy! happy sunday!#the twelve years of frostmas #frostmas updates #frostmas on ao3 #y4 on ao3 #this saved twice in my drafts? hopefully i don't like. accidentally spam dashes or something lol

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pastortomsteers · 5 months

Text

The First Sunday after Christmas

December 31, 2023

Pastor Tom Steers,

Christ the Saviour Lutheran Church, Toronto

OPENING HYMNN: 386 “Now Sing We, Now Rejoice”

(Lutheran Service Book)

youtube

The Invocation Page 184

Confession and Absolution Page 184-185

Introit

Psalm 98, verses 1-4; Isaiah 52:10

10 The Lord has bared his holy arm before the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.

Oh sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done marvelous things! His right hand and his holy arm have worked salvation for him. 2 The Lord has made known his salvation; he has revealed his righteousness in the sight of the nations. 3 He has remembered his steadfast love and faithfulness to the house of Israel. All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God.

4 Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth; break forth into joyous song and sing praises!

Glory be to the Father and to the Son

and to the Holy Spirit;

as it was in the beginning,

is now, and will be forever. Amen.

10 The Lord has bared his holy arm before the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.

Collect Prayer:

O God, our Maker and Redeemer, You wonderfully created us and in the incarnation of Your Son yet more wondrously restored our human nature. Grant that we may ever be alive in Him who made Himself to be like us; through Jesus Christ, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Our Bible Readings:

Old Testament Reading -- Isaiah 61:10—62:3

Psalm 111 Our Epistle Reading -- Galatians 4: 4-7 Our Gospel Reading -- Luke 2: 22-40

THE APOSTLES’ CREED Page 192

HYMN OF THE DAY: 938 “In Peace and Joy I Now Depart”

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THE SERMON

‘Human Sight or Spiritual Sight’ –

In our times we’re faced with worries and concerns.

War, crime, and disease surround us.

The world can appear as an endless series of obstacles to overcome to be happy, if not just survive.

We may see life through human eyes, in human terms.

In our Gospel passage today we read of Simeon, a man led by the Holy Spirit.

A man of intense faith.

His very name means, “one who hears.”

Simeon listens and believes God’s promise that he would see the Saviour, the promised one, before he died.

We can imagine this might have led Simeon to live a life of worry and anxiety -- but it didn’t.

Like all the prophets before him, Simeon lived by faith in God’s Word.

Once he sees the infant Christ, he’s content to be taken into God’s arms, after he takes the Lord Jesus into his arms.

Simeon is then happy to be with the Almighty in peace and joy.

He’s not afraid of death, he’s seen his Saviour who will deliver him from sin and eternal separation from God.

It’s the same for us.

The Holy Spirit works faith in us using God’s means of grace -- His Word found in the Bible, and the Sacraments of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper.

These means of grace are found within Christ’s Church.

The temple in First Century Jerusalem was a busy place.

A site of almost constant activity.

Into this scene come Mary, Joseph, and the infant Jesus.

If any parents had reason to worry, it would have been this couple.

Mary, a peasant teenager, had been told she would bear the son of the Most High.

She wouldn’t give birth in her hometown with the comfort of family around her.

She delivered her child in a stable in another village.

Joseph, who considered divorcing Mary when he found out she was expecting, was told by an angel that his wife would bear the Messiah.

Not long after these events, Mary and Joseph were told by an angel to run for their lives to Egypt so the ruling Jewish king wouldn’t kill the child.

They had every reason to worry.

But they walked by faith, not human sight.

Many parents would have brought their first-born baby boys into the Jerusalem temple on the day Mary and Joseph presented Jesus to the Lord.

To others the Holy family would seem to be just another poor couple fulfilling the Law of Moses.

How then were Simeon and Anna able to pick Jesus out of the crowd?

How did they identify Jesus as the promised Messiah?

And how was it that the rest of the crowd saw nothing special?

The Apostle Luke gives us the answer.

He connects Simeon to the Holy Spirit three times in the Gospel reading:

1) Luke writes the Holy Spirit was upon him,

2) It had been revealed to Simeon by the Spirit that he would see Christ, and

3) Simeon came in the Spirit into the temple.

Martin Luther reminded us in his explanation to the Third Article of the Apostle’s Creed that the Holy Spirit: calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies.

Spiritual sight given by God led Simeon to the temple at just the right moment for him to see Jesus.

We can think of Simeon waiting in the temple, watching parents bringing their first-born sons for years.

Then, when Mary and Joseph entered with Jesus, the Spirit tells Simeon -- "This is the one!"

It would not have been the wealth or stature of the humble little family that made them stand out.

Those who waited for an ‘earthly’ king would have missed Jesus.

Even today some may downplay the event.

They might say, “it was nice that God made this special provision for Simeon, the story about Anna is also touching, but what have they got to do with me?"

It’s this: just as the Holy Spirit led Simeon and Anna to Jesus in the temple, He also leads us to Jesus today.

The Holy Spirit is the only way anyone sees Christ as Saviour.

In today’s world there are many who believe in the historical Jesus.

They’ll concede Christ lived on earth.

They’re ready to admit Jesus did good deeds, taught noble teachings, and is a fine example for anyone to follow.

They’re ready to praise His bravery in criticizing the corrupt temple bureaucracy and social establishment of His day.

In fact, anyone who’s honest must agree Jesus changed history in an enormous way, and that His great influence continues.

Many in the world see the historical Jesus, but they don't see the Son of God come to earth.

They see the historical Jesus, but they don't see their Redeemer.

Only the Spirit gives us the ability to see Jesus as our Saviour.

And with the Holy Spirit's gift of faith, we see the crucifixion as the truest expression of God's love for each and every one of us today.

It’s the Holy Spirit who opens spiritual eyes so we become aware of sin in our lives, and our need for a Saviour.

He shows us that we haven’t loved God with our whole heart, that we haven’t loved our neighbours as ourselves.

By the power of the Spirit, we see the reality of the terrible, eternal punishment our sins deserve.

But our loving and merciful God doesn’t leave us in that predicament.

It’s Christ Himself that explains this to us.

Jesus told Nicodemus one night when that leader of the Pharisees came to Him: “Truly I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the Kingdom of God.”

Nicodemus didn’t immediately understand.

So, Christ explained that without the Holy Spirit we can neither see the Kingdom of God, nor enter it.

How many people today in our world won’t see the Kingdom or enter because they only see with human sight.

And so, as Christians, the question becomes: do we care?

Has our spiritual sight changed our lives as it did with Simeon and Anna?

A blind person can’t react by sight to the world around them.

Without help they stumble and fall.

If we saw a blind person on the street about to cross a busy intersection, who among us wouldn’t reach out their hand, wouldn’t speak up, and offer help.

Is it then no less important, no less compelling, when we see the spiritually blind around us, the lost who may be lost for all eternity, that we should speak up and offer help – offer witness – to our Saviour?

Should we not respond to God’s great gift of love, the gift of salvation through Christ, with the same compassion for others -- even strangers?

As believers assured of salvation through Christ, we react to the world around us differently than the faithless, the unsaved, just as a sighted person reacts differently than the blind.

We begin to see the world as God wants us to.

Our human priorities are realigned with God’s desire for our lives, and those around us.

And what others around us need, more than anything, for this life and for eternity, is to know their Lord & Saviour, and the salvation that comes only through Him.

Our ultimate purpose in life is to know Christ and to make Him known, in whatever way, through whatever means and gifts God gives us.

The Great Commission our Lord gave the disciples, He gives to all Christians -- His disciples of today.

Because there is a world of blind people outside the Church who are in spiritual darkness . . .

. . . who we can reach out to and help as they stumble,

. . . who we can be a light to reflecting the true light of Jesus,

. . . who we can witness to and speak of the eternal life and salvation found only in our Lord.

It can be as simple as telling them about the hope we have in Christ, what it means, and has meant to us.

It can be as simple as inviting them to hear the Word of God and attend our Sunday Church service.

May the Lord of all comfort and grace grant us the spiritual eyes to see Him.

Through the power of the Holy Spirit, may we respond to the need of others to know Christ -- the Saviour of the world.

Amen.

THE PRAYERS OF THE CHURCH

SERVICE OF THE SACRAMENT Page 194 THE LORD’S PRAYER Page 196

THE WORDS OF OUR LORD Page 197

THE DISTRIBUTION

POST COMMUNION COLLECT (Right-hand column) Page 201

BENEDICTION Page 202

CLOSING HYMN 359 “Lo, How a Rose Ever Blooming”

youtube

#lutheran #christian religion #faith #jesus #bible #christian #salvation #evangelism #holy spirit #religious art #Youtube

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heiayen · 5 months

Text

in danger, sinking deeper in your arms neuvillette x gn!reader

summary: Everyone in Fontaine is talking about the sudden arrest of a member of the worldwide crime organization, praising everyone involved for their hard work, not knowing the truth behind the trial. But you do, and soon you are thrown into another mysterious case, where this time, the safety of people you care the most about is on line.

tags: PART 1. modern au, neuvillette is a judge and you are a detective! enstablished relationship, it is kind-of-a murder mystery and injuries are mentioned but nothing too graphic + mentioned blood, a small reference to a fontaine world quest. ft furina cameo

notes: happy new years happy christmas december was not my month BUT I MANAGED to finish this fic anyway <;3 @theother-victoria hello. im your @favonius-library secret santa although a late one. first of all i am sorry that this fic took so long but unfortunately... life happened. and i wish i finished it faster, but </3 i decided to split this into two parts also because... you know to rush a fic with some actual plot would just ruin the quality and i didnt want that </3 please don't eat me up for any inaccurate things regarding law because this is fontaine. and my fic /j anyways whew! i shall now pass out. this is also my second time writing neuvie so uhadgdds goodnight!

“A member of the biggest worldwide crime organization, known as Fatui, has been sentenced to jail in Fontaine’s court”, said the big, bold letters on the first page of The Steambird.

It was the biggest sensation of the month– no, one could say of the year in the nation of justice, and only now it has been revealed to the public light. Everyone has been working in the shadows for the past weeks, trying their hardest to find any clues, evidence, and pointers, ultimately succeeding none of this would have happened if not for the group effort of the police and the amazing prosecution team, namely the lead prosecutor, ms. Furina. Judge Neuvillette, the greatest judge this place saw in its entire existence, has made the sentence, and many started to believe that with this trial, a new era would start and an end would be brought upon the horrible crimes of Fatui.

The jailed man— whose name they didn’t publish— would spend his nearest days in the Fortress of Meropide, where after finishing his sentence for the crimes he committed in Fontaine, he would be sent to Snezhnaya, to answer for his other crimes. before the judge of his homeland.

That was what people believed, and they had no reason to not. No one would lie to them about such thing, after all, and Judge Neuvillette was known for fair sentences, they all trusted him.

How unfortunate it was, that so much about this trial, the biggest sensation of the year was… simply not real. Fabricated for the public, and the harsh truth was under the rug, just waiting to be uncovered by some curious eye.

You were a detective, working specially for the Court of Fontaine. Your agency was personally picked by Neuvillette to work with him, ensure the security of the court members, and help with more stubborn cases that needed more special force to be solved.

It seemed crazy to you when you first joined, to work with the most known judge in Fontaine… and it still was crazy that you got blessed with such a chance from the universe, yet complained none.

Your agency was asked to help the police with the case of arresting Ajax— codename Tartaglia— and while you weren’t the main detective for this particular case, you heard and saw enough and none of this was as pretty as they tried to portray it to the public.

Because no one really knew if he was guilty.

The evidence, yes, pointed toward him, but then so many things pointed to the possibility that the evidence was false, put by someone wanting to frame Tartaglia. You were the first to reject this theory, not believing that anyone was even able to frame a criminal like him. And even if so, you were sure he would get an amazing attorney that would defend him with even more fabricated evidence, or that someone would just bail him out of jail, but—

None of this happened. Worse, the lead prosecutor, ms. Furina, received a threat to get a guilty sentence for the man, no matter what it would take.

Disobedience would be punished, the letter said. It was decided to do as the letter asked, both for the sake of everyone and most importantly, Furina’s safety, but also to shut down the blackmailer’s alertness.

Everything was carefully arranged by someone, and you all were just actors in someone’s biggest play of their life.

It was… gods. Terrible, to say the least. The blackmailer’s identity stayed unknown, as they disguised their letter as a government official one and made sure to not be found, and your team still was debating on the credibility of the evidence you all found. Everything pointed toward that it was fabricated, but nothing proved that it was, and if someone was genuinely just playing a stupid joke to cast the shadow of doubt, or mess with your investigation, then they were doing an amazing job.

Even Furina seemed a little off in your eyes, the smallest spark of her confidence gone when she herself wasn’t sure if anything she presented in court was real.

(Not to mention that Tartaglia shouldn’t be put on trial here, but in Snezhnaya. Something, something about international laws.)

There was nothing left for you than to wait for any move in the case, for any possible hint toward the mastermind and truth.

Just for how long you would have to wait?

It was early morning when you woke up to your phone ringing, a bit before your regular wake-up hour. Still half-asleep, you grabbed the device and, not even checking who it was calling, you picked up the call and was greeted by your co-worker’s voice bordering on screaming.

“[Name]! For gods’ sake, finally!” She half-screamed into your ear and you winced.

“‘nd no good morning even?” you mumbled, your brain foggy with sleep. Why was she even screaming so early?

“This is the third time I called so no, no good morning to you,” Came her quick reply, “Get up, someone found a corpse right at the courthouse’s doorstep.”

That woke you up instantly.

You jumped on your bed, throwing away your duvet and scrambling to get up, “Whose?! And— why on earth is there a corpse in the first place?!”

The order of your questions seemed a little out of place, but you barely cared. You walked quickly to your closet, grabbing the first pants and shirt you found under your hand.

“Good questions, I was about to ask you the same,” Your friend deadpanned and you could already imagine the judgemental raise of her eyebrows, “We can't... exactly recognize the victim. Whoever killed them had quite the fun with it..."

You gulped at the mental image alone of what was waiting for you. “This is fucking shit. Who found the corpse?”

“Ms. Furina found the body, called for sir Neuvillette, he called for me and I called for the rest, so police. And you, because I don’t want to deal with this case alone.”

You stopped buttoning up your shirt for a moment.

“...and for that, you are getting your ass moving and picking me up,” You said lightly to your phone. If not for your godsdamned friend, you still would be resting in bed! Maybe preparing to get out of it, but in bed nonetheless.

Still, another part of you was happy that she called you out of all people.

“No?!” Your friend retorted, “Don’t you have a car?”

“At mechanics.”

“Call a cab, then?”

“At this hour?”

There was a moment of silence before you heard from your friend something that sounded like a tired groan and something like ‘yes, whatever, I’ll pick you up’.

“You’re so nice, love you!” you cooed into the phone and ended the call.

Now dressed, you went to the kitchen to at least eat something, because you weren’t even sure if you would have enough time to get anything to drink.

A corpse was found under the courthouse’s doors, barely a few days after the trial ended. Who could possibly do it?

The blackmailer, as you all started calling the author of the letter only spoke about punishment in case Tartaglia was found innocent, and he wasn’t. Neuvillette and Furina did as they were asked.

A thought appeared in your mind that maybe the corpse was just a message some kind of, or a warning— but from who?

You stood in the kitchen, lazily chewing the sandwich (if you could call it) as you thought.

If not from the letter sender, then from who? And was it a warning message in the first place? Or maybe it was just a coincidence, although in that you would not believe, no matter what?

Whatever the answer was, you would find it.

You arrived at the crime scene fifteen minutes later, in your friend’s car. She filled you up on any details she missed on the phone, but she didn’t know much either.

Around the corpse were people already, so you could run first into asking around what happened. Neuvillette and Furina were standing a little away from the group, the woman visibly unsettled, despite the act she was putting on. Neuvillette had a firm hand on her shoulder, in the gesture of comfort.

You fought down a smile and walked up to them.

“Hello.” You nodded shortly to them, “Are you two alright?”

You winced internally at your own question. Furina didn’t look alright, of course she was not.

“Yes, we are alright.” Came Neuvillette’s answer, saving Furina from having to talk.

There was something about Neuvillette that not everyone knew. A little secret between you two that no one else knew.

“Mhm, that’s good to hear… Miss Furina, you were the one to find the body, yes?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, “I came here and saw a man lying under the doors, and when I walked closer…”

She trailed off, covering her mouth with her hand. You didn’t look at the body, but… from your friend’s description and Furina’s reaction, it must have been a terrible, view.

“I can imagine it must have been quite the shock for you,” you sighed, internally shivering at the mental image in your head.

You asked her some more questions, noting everything in your mind. You kept them short, before letting her walk away from the crime place.

She saw no one around when she arrived, too panicked to look for anyone. It wasn’t a problem though, because you clearly remembered that there was a surveillance camera and the front doors were in its range. Someone would just have to check the recordings.

The police that arrived here were busy, your friend was talking with Furina and it was just you and Neuvillette. You gave him a quick glance before looking away.

“...how is Furina?” you asked, voice a tad quieter, a tad softer, now that you two were alone. You were close enough with Furina to drop the formalities and chat over cake and tea in your free time.

“She’s shaken, but well,” Neuvillette said, “She hid in her car upon discovering the body and called for me.”

“Smart,” you mumbled to yourself. She had no way to know if the murderer was still there, after all. You only wondered why she called Neuvillette instead of the police, but you figured that was just… her being herself.

Actually, you wondered about two things.

“...it isn’t in her style to be this early, though.” You looked at Neuvillette to see him give you a short nod.

“She said that she wanted to work on paperwork and cut the topic short.”

“Huh.” You furrowed your eyebrows slightly. That sounded unlike her, actually, “Do you really believe she would wake up this early to fill out some documents?”

You admired her greatly, but after working for so long alongside her and Neuvillette, you knew it was uncommon for her to act like that.

“It is unlike her, yes. I decided not to press further, not wanting to overwhelm her. She was already stressed enough because of discovering the body.”

You nodded and hummed to yourself.

“Do you… maybe have any idea why this all happened?” You raised your eyebrows at him, “Or, well, a theory?”

“I do not wish to jump into assumptions, but I believe this might be related to Fatui themselves. An important member of their organization got sentenced to jail, after all."

It was one of your theories, too. No one else fit the murder as much as the organization did.

"Could it be some sort of a warning?" you suggested. It wouldn’t be the first time Fatui did something so… unnecessarily violent to show a message. You hoped it wasn’t the case.

Neuvillette stayed silent for a moment, deep in thought before replying solemnly.

"I fear yes.”

You let out a heavy sigh. That… that was complicating everything so much. None of you was yet sure if it was Fatui’s doing, but if yes…

“If this… murder is related to Tartaglia’s case, then protecting Furina should be one of our priorities,” you said after a moment, the softness of your voice disappearing, letting firmness take its place, “She was the lead prosecutor for this case after all. It won’t hurt to take precautions, no matter who really stands behind this.”

Since everyone was still busy with their jobs, you reached out your hand to grab Neuvillette’s and give him a quick squeeze, dropping it right after.

“But I’m sure she’ll be fine either way, don’t worry.” You smiled warmly, lowering your voice and his own lips curled into a smile after a moment.

“...thank you,” he replied, also lowering his voice to keep this moment between you two.

The secret you shared was a warm feeling between you two, adoration and love shyly blooming in your hearts.

It started as stolen glances, unsure if you were even allowed to look at him like that. But then you once caught his own glance on you, and from that on, something started to bloom between you two.y Yet because of your jobs, you both had to be careful.

Neuvillette was adored by many, of course, you sometimes joked to yourself that you were dating a fontainian celebrity, but so he was hated by the people that he gave a guilty verdict to.

Not all, but enough, and while you didn't have actual enemies like he did, your job as the detective was still putting you at risk.

The glances stayed stolen, but with newfound fondness and warmth.

You opened your mouth to add something, but suddenly your friend called you over. You mouthed an apology to Neuvillette and walked to her.

She was talking with a police officer that was… holding a little, plastic bag, covered in blood. You swallowed.

There was something inside.

Your friend looked at you, a frown on her face.

"The man is missing his tongue and had… this," She pointed at the bag, "shoved in his mouth."

You felt chills appears on your back as you stared at the little bag.

A missing tongue and a plastic bag in its place, with a piece of paper inside it.

That couldn't promise anything good.

You still remembered a certain case from a little ago. You were lucky to usually work on rather… pleasant cases, as in not as brutal and violent as your co-workers would sometimes deal with, but that day, you stumbled upon a certain case. A messy contract with a criminal organization that ended with a man, a lowly The Steambird editor, who not only completely lost his mind, but also… his tongue.

Just like the man from the current case.

All the evidence that you found on the previous man, pointed out that he had an unfortunate deal with Fatui that ended with… well, not his death, but a part of you wondered if it wouldn’t be a better end for him.

You let out a deep breath, groaned, and layed your head on your desk, already tired of today. You truly had quite the luck lately! Curse you and whatever deity was watching over you.

The piece of paper found in the man’s mouth was, obviously, a very nice and kind message, with threats hidden between the lines. That could mean only one thing and it was that the Fatui indeed had a hand in this murder because of the entire Tartaglia case.

You were sure of it, since you had no other pointers and this seemed like the most likely case.

But it also meant that whoever was behind the first letter, was someone entirely else. You didn’t think anyone from Fatui would set up one of them, especially since you heard… surprisingly a lot about Tartaglia. He didn’t seem like someone so easy to throw out and replace.

Who, then?

Assuming it was true that he was framed, who could be powerful enough to frame someone like him? And do it behind Fatui’s back?

Maybe there was a missing part? Well, no, you obviously missed a lot yet. The camera recordings showed a pair of people bringing the man’s corpse under the courthouse’s doors, and then walking away, going inside a car and driving away, their little gift left on the doorsteps.

The victim still had to be identified, the pair of men too and they were vital to the case— you didn’t think they would willingly tell police who ordered them the murder (or if they killed the victim at all!), but maybe…

Assuming they were still alive, that is. You heard enough to let your imagination go wild at what could possibly happen.

…maybe too wild, when sudden anxiety started to blossom in your mind. The current situation was rather unpredictable, in you way you could tell what would happen next, and even with extra protection arranged for Neuvillette and Furina, you couldn’t help but worry about them.

But especially about Neuvillette. You loved him, after all. You didn’t know what would you do if anything ever happened to him.

You looked at your phone. You had currently… some kind of a break. Everything that just happened started to hit you only now, tiredness gnawing at your bones.

You needed some coffee. Something sweet to eat. A moment to collect your thoughts and continue worrying about the case and your lover later.

You took up your phone, and the receiver picked up the call a moment later.

“Neuvillette? Hello?”

“Hello, [name]. Is something the matter?”

Just hearing his voice seemed to raise your spirits a little.

“No, I just wanted to call you…” You smiled sheepishly to yourself and then added, with slight laughter in your voice, "I would invite you for dinner, but with all that happened earlier…"

Although you were planning to ask him out for dinner for some time now, just an evening spent together at your place, there was no time for such things now. It was a great shame, but you hoped that after all this, you two would find a moment of peace together.

For now, a phone conversation had to be enough.

To be honest, you called for no actual reason, more to just listen to his voice and maybe calm your mind a little, so for a moment, you two found yourselves in a comfortable silence.

There was a movie you watched a week ago. It was late when you watched it, you were planning to go to bed but while you were mindlessly switching channels, you saw a movie interesting enough to keep you up for the next hour. By now you forgot the name, but you told him about it either way.

He listened to all your words, even when you stumbled over the plot a few times, backtracking and trailing off when a part of the scene you were describing reminded you of something else.

He had a few of his own comments regarding the plot and certain scenes, like not understanding why people found a certain scene funny— to which you just… shrugged, not knowing either. The scene he mentioned was stupid, really, and yet it made you laugh so much when you first watched it, that even when describing it to him again you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

A charm of questionable but funny scenes, maybe.

Minutes passed on simply talking, smiling at your phone and laughing. Just talking with him seemed enough to help you recharge, but it also made you a little sad.

With you busy and the worry, already preparing itself to take a longer stay in mind, calls were probably the only way to spend time together like this. It wasn’t enough. You finished talking about the movie, ran out of thoughts to share, a moment passed.

"...you know, you have to be careful too,” you murmured, "I worry someone might try to attack either you or Furina, although I'm not sure if there would be anyone stupid enough to do that…"

You rolled your eyes at your own words. No one would, for sure, but…

"Point is, I still worry."

How could you not?

"You need not to worry, love.” You smiled at his words and soft tone and a part of you could swear he smiled. You hoped he did.

You heard him breathe, preparing to say something else, but at the same moment you heard someone calling out his name in the background, “...my apologies, it appears I am needed somewhere. I will call you later.”

“Sure, take care. I think my break is ending soon anyway,” you sighed, trying your hardest to now show disappointment in your tone.

The call ended after it, and yet you found yourself holding the phone next to your ear for a second, two more before putting it away. Your break was coming to an end anyway, it was about time you got up.

You just hoped that everything would end well.

(And yet soon, you would soon realize that nothing about this case would go well, nowhere close to how you hoped it would, and that your worst thoughts would come true.

But, maybe, just maybe, there still would be a place for a good ending?

You hoped, at least. And you would do everything to bring this case to a good ending.)

taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat

#astronetwork #favoniuslibrary #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact imagines #neuvillette x you #gender neutral reader #heia's writin'#i wanna pass out not joking even the hell

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