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twilightprince101 · 3 years

Text

So I made an SCP entry for Bugsnax...

I thought with the ending and all of the disturbing stuff that this game has, it would fit perfectly with SCP stuff. Not to mention, there has to be an SCP equivalent in the Grumpus world. GCP? SGP? SCG? I dunno man, have some horror writing about muppets.

SCP-3470: Sentient Sustenance

[Heavy spoilers for Bugsnax ending]

Item #: SCP-3470 aka “Snaktooth Island”

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Due to its nature of being a landmass the most SCP teams can do is obscure its location to the populus. Efforts have been made to create rumors of numerous shipwrecks--akin to SCP-605 “Bermuda Triangle”--to deter the public from exploring the location. If unauthorized ships are witnessed crossing into the restricted zone, they are to be terminated immediately. Addendum: Due to the recent insubordination of Dr. [REDACTED]. All authorized personnel that enter or exit SCP-3470 are to be subjected to a rigorous screening process to ensure that no instances of SCP-3470-A are brought out of the restricted area without B Class Permission or higher. Further precautions being considered are a 10 minute test in which personnel seeking access to SCP-3470 are to be placed into an empty room with an instance of SCP-3470-A. If SCP personnel show any signs of wishing to consume SCP-3470-A, they are to be removed from the team immediately. Permission from Professor [REDACTED]. Is awaiting approval.

Description: SCP-3470 is a large landmass off of the coast of [REDACTED]. Spanning 50 mi^2 and nearing 1.5 mi in height. Several sections of SCP-3470 are flux in weather patterns, ranging from lush forests to arid deserts in the span of 3 miles. Although similar in appearance to locations such as [REDACTED]. And [REDACTED]. , further research concludes that flora are substantially different in chemical composition, containing traces of [REDACTED]. Which was only recently discovered. Due to this, nearly all flora encompassing the island are inedible, as digestion induces hazardous effects ranging from intense stomach pains to spastic vomiting.

The most significant aspect of SCP-3470 are various instances of sentient life, which are to be referred to as SCP-3470-A-[1-100]. SCP-3470-A take appearances of common food items, such as SCP-3470-A-1 [“Strabby”] taking the form of a ripe red strawberry with what appear to be dollar store googly-eyes [all instances of SCP-3470-A share the final trait]. All instances of SCP-3470-A vary in physique, behavioral patterns and similarities to their respective food item. Each instance also appears to have a “name” that it repeats ad nauseum despite not having observable mouths or vocal chords, making them easier to classify. Chemically however all are similar, containing faint traces of [REDACTED]. . This can be witnessed upon any attempt to alter SCP-3470-A instances from their base form, dissolving into an unknown inedible fluid, losing sentience in the process.

Due to SCP-3470’s flora being inedible, SCP-3470-A instances become the landmass’s only source of sustenance. Consumption of SCP-3470-A induces a drastic and instance side-effect of modifying the consumer’s limbs, thereby becoming SCP-3470-B. The limbs of SCP-3470-B instances vary depending on the instance of SCP-3470-A that has been consumed, alongside how many instances have been consumed prior to said event. Fundamentally however, all limbs modified take on the appearance of whatever the SCP-3470-A instance was impersonating. The more instances a subject consumes the more of their body transforms, beginning with the hands and feet and extending to the entire torso and face. The internal functions of the body remain intact along with full autonomous control, however the structure and physique of transformed limbs change drastically, such as an SCP-3470-B instance’s arm transforming into a banana after consuming an instance of SCP-3470-A-12 [“Banooper”]. These transformations subside in time [correlating to amount of SCP-3470-A instances consumed], with SCP-3470-B limbs reverting back to their original state, containing faint traces of [REDACTED].

Addendum 3470-B: Increased Exposure

Proceeding with experimentation with SCP-3470-A instances under Prof. [REDACTED]. , extended exposure and consumption of SCP-3470-A instances results in increasing addictive tendencies and side effects. File below contains audio files of experiments with Personnel D-125.

Dr. [REDACTED].: D-Class 125, approach SCP 3470-A-45.

D-125: What is…? Ok, seriously what the grump is this??? Like, I signed up for this expecting a lot of horrifying stuff, but-did someone slap googly-eyes on a piece of corn?!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : 125, please approach SCP-3470-A-45.

D-125: Yeah, yeah, alright. So… (to A-45 after approach), what are you supposed to be then? Did Dr. [REDACTED]. Have their kid put their arts and crafts project on display or-

A-45: Cobhopper!

D-125: GRUMPIN WHA- IT JUST TALKED?! IT MOVED IT’S LOOKING AT ME!!!

Dr. [REDACTED].: (whispering) so much for being the ‘toughest D-class around… ‘

D-125: So you’re telling me I just… eat it? The eyes too?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Correct. Do not worry, upon further testing the eyes seem to be made of a material akin to valentine’s candy hearts (lie).

D-125: Huh… alright then. Down the hatch, I guess?

Sounds of eating, cries of A-45

Dr. [REDACTED]. : D-125, describe the flavor.

D-125: It’s… good actually! I was honestly expecting the insides to be guts or poison or something, but it’s actually pretty good! Nice and buttered to, a bit of salt? Reminds me of my mom’s barbeque.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : And the sensation of your leg transforming?

D-125: Huh? (125 looks down and notices their leg transformed into a head of corn). Oh… Well this is pretty cool I guess.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Any uncomfortable sensations?

D-125: Not really no. It’s weird… I can still feel my toes, but it’s like a peg leg. Actually, I think I can see a few kernels wiggling if I try. Neat!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Is… that it?

D-125: Yeah I think so, *chuckles,* this is actually pretty cool!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Hmm… (To recorder) Despite initial panic from witnessing A-45, subject D-125 has adjusted to transformation with record pace. Further research required.

D-125: Heya doc!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Greetings D-125. Have you adjusted to recent transformations?

D-125: Yeah it’s been going alright. The pineapple hair is a pretty nice dew all things considered, and the bacon tongue makes me look like a snake. I like it!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Pleased to hear it. Now, approach SCP-3470-A-52.

D-125: Alright, what’s on the menu today then? Who’re you little guy?

A-52: Sodi-D Sodi-D!

D-125: Huh, a drink this time. Change of pace I guess.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Please consume A-52.

D-125: Right away ma’am. Sir. Whatever.

Sound of soda can opening and drinking, cries of A-52.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : (To recorder) Upon the first drop of A-52’s fluid, transformation has already occurred, transforming the subject's ears into what appear to be soda can tabs. No further transformations appear to occur on consecutive gulps-wha (To D-125) Sir?!

Sounds of crunching, further cries of A-52, then silence.

D-125: Not bad! I don’t usually drink soda, beer’s more my thing personally, but it was pretty sweet! Just the right amount of sugar. And hey, new accessory!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : ...D-125, why did you eat A-52’s shell?

D-125: Huh?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : The… the can. Nobody has attempted to consume the can.

D-125: Oh. Uh…

Silence for 7 seconds

D-125: I dunno, I guess since the eyes were edible on the other guys, I thought the can would be here? Wasn’t too hard to eat, kinda like biting into ice. Didn’t hurt.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Very… interesting. This will be recorded for future experiments, thank you D-125.

D-125: No prob. And hey, call me Chuffee.

D-125: Hehey, candy corn teeth! Pretty sharp too, should make eating these things even easier!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : D-125, you’re nearing complete bodily transformation. Have you been experiencing any discomfort as of late? Any anomalies?

D-125: Nope, in fact I feel great! I used to have this crink in my back for the longest time, but now it’s gone! I’m more limber than I’ve been in ages!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Fascinating… very well then, thank you for your time.

D-125: ...wait, what? That’s it?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Hm?

D-125: There isn’t any more left? I thought there would be a bit more.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : *sigh,* D-125, we’ve went over this last time. We cannot give you more than one instance a day due to 3470-A’s high caloric count. The instance you just ate was over twenty th-

D-125: You know you keep saying that. Didn’t you guys want to really figure out what’s with these things? When I ate that soda can you said yourself that nobody’s tried that before, so let’s go further! I’m still hungry anyways, I’m craving a burger if you got any like that.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Sir, please exit the room. I cannot give you any more than what I am authorized.

D-125: ……..You know, it’s interesting how your window is so high up there. I can hardly see you.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : ...excuse me?

D-125: You heard me [REDACTED]. , I can barely see you from down here. You can see exactly how I change, the new stuff I get… but I can’t see yours.

Silence for 15 seconds.

D-125: I know you’re holding out on me up there [REDACTED]. .

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Sir, I’ve told you countless times already. I can’t give you any more than I’m authorized.

D-125: (Sarcasm) Oh yeah, suuure. For all I know you guys are feasting away on these things up there, while leaving me for dust! Like seriously, a single popcorn kernel?! That’s it?!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Sir, that is all I can give you today. Please exi-

Sound of a door opening

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Wh- Professor [REDACTED]. ?

Professor [REDACTED]. : Hello D-125.

D-125: Oh great, another snob to tell me what to do. If you aren’t gonna feed me, then just shut up already! My stomach’s growling like crazy, and I’m not leaving until I get my meal!

Professor [REDACTED]. : Not to worry D-125, I’m fully prepared to grant your wish.

D-125: ...wait, really?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Professor, what are you-

Professor [REDACTED]. : I listened to the log of your previous meal, and you raised a good point. If we at the SCP foundation wish to fully understand what these creatures are capable of, we must push the boundaries of what we believe are possible. So then…

(Sound of metal grinding, several overlapping cries of SCP-3470-A instances)

D-125: Oh, my…

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Professor, what are you doing?

Professor [REDACTED]. : Eat until you can’t eat anymore. Consider it my treat, to you.

D-125: Ooohohohohoooo yes!!! Now we’re talking!!! Come to papa little guys!!!

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject so far has consumed 34 instances of 3470-A. Since consuming number 21 he has shown increased signs of vigor, despite eating half of his body mass.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Professor, please, stop him. This is-

Professor [REDACTED]. : (continuing) Upon complete transformation of limbs to SCP 3470-B instances, any further consumption appears to override a prior one. His leg, previously resembling a head of corn has transformed now into a roll of sushi. His tongue, once a strip of bacon, now a wad of chips.

D-125: (While eating) Mmmph! Oh my god, what are you a jar of pickles! More the merrier!

Sound of sloppy gulping, glass crunching, cries of SCP-3470-A-35

D-125: Ooogh, some noodles too! Love japanese food!

Sounds of rapid slurping, rapid glass crunching and licking.

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject appears to have increased vigor in consuming 3470-A instances, not leaving a single crumb or shard left uneaten. A query: what is the chemical makeup of instances contained in glass jars or bowls? The bowls themselves? Further research required.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Chuffee please, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!

Rapid, feral sounds of crunching and slurping.

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject has now eaten approximately eaten 1.5 times his body mass yet continues to feat, now with no regards for table manners whatsoever. I have already called for a janitor to wait outside.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Chuffee stop!! You-

Laughter, slowly increasing in volume

D-125: This!! This is the best I’ve eaten in my entire life!!!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Chuffee please-O-oh… oh my-

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject’s left ear has disconnected itself from its host. There appear to be no signs of blood or even markings indicating he has had one at all-there goes a tooth!

D-125: Hooooh I knew you all were holding back on me!!! This stuff is delicious, amazing, spectacular!!! I’ll never go hungry again, no more rotting on the streets!!! This is all mine, you hear me?! Mine, MINE, MINE!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH

Laughter continues for several seconds, sounds of objects falling to floor as volume slowly decreases, ending with a loud clatter.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Ch-Chuffee, I- urp!

Sound of vomiting

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject, after eating nearly twice his body mass, has had each limb separate from his core torso one by one, now fully resembling their respective food items, until his eyes transformed into SCP-3470-B instance, resembling the mixed nuts that made up his head. Soon after, his torso and head fell apart, scattering into mixed-nuts. I can not recognize Subject D-125 in the slurry.

More sounds of vomiting

Professor [REDACTED]. : These results are quite fascinating. Further research is required into these various side effects. End tape.

#bugsnax #scp #scp foundation #bugsnax spoilers #secure contain protect #my writing #my writings #twi talks #spoilers #((I love writing fucked up stuff like this))#tw horror #tw body horror #body horror #horror

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darksides-dutchess · 3 years

Text

Since the last one did well here is part 2 of

The sides as things my friends and I have said

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Logan: If I don't get crofters by the end of the day I will fuck everyone.

Virgil: .......Please rephrase what you just said.

Logan:.........figuratively.

Janus: You could of just said "I will fucking kill everyone"

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Remus: Sometimes I'm terrified that my brother isn't gonna have any kids cause like LOOK AT ME!! I AM A GAY PIRATE!!! AN UNCLE IS MY FINAL FORM!!!

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Roman: I have to tell you something Janus!!

Janus: HOLD UP.....If it has anything to do with your boyfriend or your love life or any of your lovey dovey shit you are buying the coffee.

*15 minutes later*

Janus: *slowly sips coffee*

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Janus: I wake up every morning and I wonder what is even the point of this world anymore but then I remember that I want to be a hot MILF one day...

Patton: similarly a DILF

Remus: or a PILF (parent I'd like to fuck) if you are non-binary.

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Remus: For someone who is so fucking terrified of sex I'm such a horny motherfucker!! What's up with that?!!

*Continues to play just dance rasputin*

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*the sink clogged and filled with dirty water and pieces of food*

Remus: Ah yes, the forbidden soup time for dinner.*grabs spoon*

Logan: *tackles Remus to the ground* You are not getting food poisoning on my watch bitch.

-------------------------------------------- Roman: *visibly upset*

Patton: What's wrong Roman?

Roman: I wanna be in love.

Logan: Love is overrated. *proceeds to cuddle with Janus*

-------------------------------------------- *everyone is playing kahoot and one of the questions was "which is the hottest?* and the options were "hot pockets", "Ryan Reynolds", "the sun" and "none of these" so everyone picked the option " hot pocket"*

Logan: THE FUCKING SUN!!! YOU FUCKING MORONS!!! WHICH IS THE HOTTEST?! THE SUN, YOU IDIOTS!! MY GOD, WHAT THE HELL!!!

Everyone:*laughing like a pack of dying hyenas*

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Virgil, looking at himself in the mirror: I'm literally wearing nothing but eye mascara....EYE MASCARA AS APPOSED TO WHAT LIP MASCARA!! SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU DUMB BITCH IM TIRED OF YOU SPEAKING!!

Logan:cd-did you just insult your own reflection?!

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Remus:*makes 3 packs of ramen for himself*

Virgil, watching remus make it: What the fuck do you need 3 packs of ramen for, you fat bitch?! You think this is funny?! YOU FUCKING WHORE!!

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Janus: Oh wow!! These wings are really spicy I might need like 3 tubs of ice cream after this.

Virgil: You're such a baby, I could like ten more of these without feeling anything.

Janus: BITCH, when did I ask you how many of these wings you could you eat?! You freaky fuck with that strong ass stomache!! I bet you drink hot sauce like water everyday!!

Virgil: I was just joking-

Janus: NO BITCH SHUT UP THIS AINT NO JOKEY JOKE!!

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Patton:And if you call me a bitch,*starts weeping* MaKe sUre yOu puT SenSiTivE bEfOre it, YoU wHaCK hOe.

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*At an amusement park and there is a tall rollercoster and lots of screaming*

Virgil: You must be smoking crack if you think I'm going on that death ride.

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Logan,after he lost Mario karts because of Roman: I WILL STEAL YOUR CAR AND RUN YOU OVER WITH IT!!

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Roman: My pronouns are he/he...... sorry I can't be him.

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Logan: You have the blackest armpits and neck I have ever seen.

Remus: THATS CAUSE IM FAT!!

Logan, jokingly: What are you pregnant?

Remus: YA, WITH YOUR BABY!!

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Logan,cry laughing: I JUST FOUND OUT THAT THE REASON WE HAVE STETHOSCOPES IS BECAUSE A GERMAN DOCTOR WAS SO UNCOMFORTABLE WITH HAVING TO PLACE HIS HEAD ON WOMENS CHESTS TO HEAR THEIR HEARTBEATS THAT HE MADE THE DEVICE AND I HONESTLY APPRECIATE HIM SO MUCH FOR RESPECTING WOMAN AND HAVING THE MOST UNIQUE WAY TO COME OUT OF THE CLOSET!!

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Janus, in the skirt: I don't think I will ever be taking this off because I am still looking for the person who gave me permission👏 TO👏LOOK 👏THIS 👏GOOD👏 cause I'm gonna give them a kiss right on the mouth.

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Virgil: He just said " I am insatiably hungry" THE FUCK IS THAT BIG ASS WORD,

Logan: Shut up.

Virgil mocking Logan: "I am unfathomably insatiably starving, I haven't had a morsel of food in millenia, eons even."

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Janus: I don't want pronouns anymore, the next time I enter the room everyone must say, "YOU THERE, FRIEND OR FOE?!"

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#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #loceit #tw swearing #tw caps

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lucisfavoritedemon · 3 years

Text

Always & Forever: Part 6

Pairing: Lucifer x reader

Summary: Being forced into an arranged marriage by your father doesn't go quite to plan when your soon to be husband tries to take the only freedom you have ever known. Little does he know someone else was listening in. Go on a journey to discover that Lucifer may not be as bad as he appears. He did save your life after all.

Warnings: talks of acts of violence, talks of possession, age gap, cursing, fluff, some angst, mentions of blood and injury, talk of mature topics, 18+ only.

Word Count: 2465

A/N: I try to stay as true to the time period as I am comfortable with. This an 18+ only series. You have been warned. There is a lot of talk about mature topics. You have been warned. All thoughts in italics.

Enjoy!

“The reason my father declared war? Why would he do that?”

“Because he was convinced that I wanted to kill you. That I was worse for you than Michael.”

“Why would he think that?”

Lucifer turns to Dean and Sam, “it’s like she doesn’t know anything. I know she has been recovering. There is no way this is the first day she has been awake.”

“It is actually. She woke up this morning.” Sam spoke up.

“S-so, you’re telling me she really has no idea what has happened in the last 6 months?”

“6 months?” I practically shout.

“You’ve been sick for the last 6 months. Poisoned by, what your father assumes, Lucifer.” Dean speaks.

“B-but Lucifer would never,” I turn to face Lucifer, “you would never. You swore to never hurt me. You said those vows. You swore to protect me! You swore to stay by my side!”

“I had no choice! Your father forced the divorce. He forced Maddox into wiping your memory. Why you even remember me is beyond me.”

“The kiss.”

“The what?”

“The kiss. On my forehead, the one you said I would be able to detect if you were in danger. That I would be able to find you easily.”

“Shit. I forgot about that. Your father will kill me if he finds out about that.”

“No wonder Maddox seemed so worried when I told him about a little secret he has. I just knew I needed you back. I want you back Lucifer. I know you would never hurt me. That you didn’t hurt me, or poison me.”

“No, I didn’t, but your father is going to be hard to convince. I’m sorry princess. Our story is finished.” Lucifer looks at me one last time before walking to the door.

“So, that’s it then. All we fought for, all we ever wanted, all you ever promised, is over? I would go to the ends of the earth to bring you back with me. Even if that means that Lucaea is no longer home to me. No place will ever be home without you by my side.”

“Then you will be homeless. I’m not going back with you Y/N. So quit trying to mess with my emotions to get me to say yes. No matter how badly I want to. I know I promised, but some promises are meant to be broken. I couldn’t protect you even if I tried.”

“You blame yourself for what happened. Don’t you? That’s why you refuse to come back. You’re...afraid.”

I got no answer, but his head lowered a bit. I don’t blame him for blaming himself. If something happened to him on my watch, I would never forgive myself either.

��We’ll give you two some space. Seems like there is a lot you need to talk about alone.” Sam said, grabbing Dean’s arm and walking out of the room.

“Y-yes...I’m afraid. Afraid that I will fail again, and lose you forever. The thought of being away from you forever huts, but I at least know you’re safe, and you’re alive.”

“But what if I’m forced to marry and I give up fighting, and they hurt me, or kill me. There are a lot of kings out there who have multiple wives who all just mysteriously disappear. I could easily become one of those unfortunate women.”

“D-don’t say such things. Your father wants the best for you.”

“Yet he tried to force me to marry Michael, who wanted my tongue cut out to silence me. I would have bled out, but heaven forbid I marry someone kind and gentle, and they get blamed for me falling ill.”

“I’m sorry princess, but I swore I would never step foot near Lucaea again. I couldn’t face that place knowing I failed you, and your father.”

“Did my father really force you to leave, or did you leave on your own?”

I got no answer. He just kept his head down.

“Luc, did you, or did you not leave of your own free will?”

“F-fine...I left on my terms. I apologized to your father for failing you, and him. He told me that I would fail worse by leaving, but I knew that I would continue to fail if I stayed. So, I left.”

“What else did my father say? Did he say you would be welcomed back if you so chose to want to be by my side again?”

“H-he did. He said he would leave that for me any time. That he finally saw, for the first time, his daughter truly happy. He didn’t want to be the reason that was taken away.”

“Then come home. I’m alive, and I will be more careful. I will have Maddox work on antidotes for every possible poison out there, have him learn healing spells. Luc, I’m willing to bring you back with open arms because I know if you knew who the culprit was, you would take matters into your own hands and arrest him, or execute him.”

“How can you be so sure that I won’t fail you again?”

“Because the only thing you failed at was not staying by my side. There was no way you could pinpoint a single person that night. There were too many people at Lucaea Castle for you to even begin to narrow down who did it.”

“You think it happened at our wedding?”

“Yes, that’s the only time it could have happened without them encountering us alone. Bigger crowd, less chance of them being found out.”

“I-I never thought of that before. It is the perfect ploy. No one is tasting your drinks or food with so many people around, especially allies of the kingdom. It’s the perfect place and the perfect crime.”

“See. There would be no way you could have stopped it. It’s why my father didn’t blame you either. He knew that you had no control over what happened. My father will blame himself just as harshly. There will be more guards appointed to posts, more posts added for extra security, invited guests only will be allowed into parties and special occasions. Things for the kingdom will look different.”

Lucifer finally turns to me, and walks over caressing my cheek, “I hope so princess. I want to come home to you so bad, but...this silly war my brother started…”

“So it was Michael who started this?”

“Yes, after he found out that our kingdoms were no longer united after I left, he took his opportunity to declare war against Lucaea.”

“It makes sense, but if you come back with me, you can sign the document of peace. The war will be over, and our kingdoms united again.”

Lucifer smiles, but it fades when someone bursts through the door. Lucifer holds me tight and grabs his sword ready to destroy anyone who threatens to hurt me.

“Your highness,” it was Maddox, “Oslucatish has invaded Lucaea, and is headed for the castle. I heard you came looking for Lucifer, and I can tell you two had a talk, so the quicker you sign this document the quicker we can start arresting these soldiers.”

“Better yet, the quicker we do, the sooner we can get to my father, and he can stop this invasion.” Lucifer said sternly.

“We can't sign it though without my father present.”

“Wouldn't you think I know that. You underestimate me, your highness,” Maddox stated, “I'll give you two, time to discuss. I'll be back in 10 minutes." He then walks out.

I sit on the bed, wondering what to do, and what Maddox meant by what he said.

“You okay princess?” Lucifer asked, sitting next to me.

“Yeah, just thinking. What if this doesn’t stop anything? What if all we do is make things worse?”

“If you have any doubts, then I can just sign the document stating we surrender, and you and I can go our separate ways. I will do anything to please you princess, even if that means you don’t want me in your life anymore.”

“That’s not what I want at all, Luc. I just want this to cause any more problems than what we already have caused. I just want to know whether my kingdom will be safe, and that the invasion will stop if we sign the peace treaty.”

“It has to. I promised I would stay by your side, and…”

“Yeah, and look where that’s gotten us,” I kind of whisper mumble.

“Look I realise I messed up, but I want to fix this. This plan has to work, or I will assassinate my brother myself, and end this war myself. With or without this peace treaty.”

“Lucifer, from what you have told me, it isn’t that simple. The war will keep going on even if you do manage to kill your brother. You will become a traitor, and you will no longer be a prince, or a commander of an army. Is that a risk you’re really willing to take?”

“For you, princess, it’s all worth risking.”

“Fine. Go down a tell Maddox. I’ll be down in a minute. I need sometime alone for a second.”

“Okay princess. If you’re not down in a few minutes, do I have permission to come and escort you down?”

“Yes, Lucifer.” I smile slightly at him before he goes downstairs.

I will finally have my dream come true. Lucifer will be by my side again, and I don’t have to worry about anyone trying to tear us apart.

I sat on the bed, and heard something fall on the ground. I look down and its a pile of envelopes, must have fallen from Lucifer’s bag.

I greab one and read that it is indeed addressed to Lucifer. I open the already opened letter and read it.

Dear Lucifer,

I know it has only been a few days, but she keeps asking for you in her sleep. I know she is still in there, and she misses you. I think she can tell you are not by her side. I hope you can find the courage to forgive yourself, as she will always forgive you.

-M

Who is M? Could it be Maddox? Would he really be sending letters to Luc?

I grab the next one I see and read it:

Dear Lucifer,

A new letter caught my attention this time. It had no name on the envelope, and it had yet to be sealed. Was Lucifer going to send this one back in response as soon as he got to this village? It would make sense since no one would track where it was going. This is neutral territory.

It has been almost 5 months now. I hope you’re okay. Please, respond to my letter, just this one so I at least know you’re alive out there. The war between our kingdoms keeps raging on, but the fight within you has died. She is recovering quickly thanks to the antidote I found. Please Lucifer, come home to her. Doctor says she should be waking up soon. She’ll be asking questions as to where you are. Are we just supposed to pretend you don’t exist to protect her? She’ll find anyway she can to find you. I know she will. She’s done it before. Just come home for her. -M

Dear Maddox,

I regret to inform you I will not be coming back. If she finds me, let her, but it will not change the fact that I want that life anymore. May she heal and prosper well. The last letter I received better be the last one I get. I want this one returned in a new envelope, the front left blank. Help her forget about me. It will be the best for all of us. If I catch you near me again Maddox, I will end you and your entire posey.

Oh no. What have I done? Maddox and everyone here is possibly in danger. I have to go down there right now, and hope I am not too late.

I stand up, and run to the door, when it opens up.

“There you are. Sorry I was getting worried that you hadn’t come down yet.”

I just stand there ready for whatever was going to happen to me. Is he going to kill me next? I was too late to get out there. I should have just ran out as soon as I read this.

“Is everything okay? You look frightened. Did someone come is and threaten you?” Lucifer then looks on the floor. I know he has seen the letters now scattered. He looks to the bed, then to my hand. I had completely forgot I had his letter in my hand, “were you going through my stuff?”

“N-no...th-they fell and I-I went to pick them up...I-I saw your name and…” He yanks the letter out of my hand and looks it over. I take this time to bolt out the door.

“Y/N wait!”

I didn’t care how many times he called my name, I needed to get away. Whatever Michael did to my Lucifer, he was right. He isn’t the Lucifer I married. I needed to get away. Run as fast, and as far as I possibly could.

I look back behind me to see if he is following me when I bump into someone.

“Your highness, are you alright?”

It was Sam. I push him as I heard footsteps coming around the corner, “Sam...we need to run...now.” I look behind me as I see a shadow grow closer from around the corner.

“Your highness, what’s going on?”

I don’t answer, I just grab his hand and start running again. I knew I had to get away somehow. Anyway I could. Lucifer was going to kill us if he caught us and I couldn’t risk that. I wasn’t ready to die yet, and I certainly didn’t want the man I once loved to be the one to do it. The thought killed me, and I just couldn’t take this anymore. I couldn’t take the heartbreak anymore. That’s what this was. Heartbreak.

We finally reach the door to outside and I burst through to find we are surrounded by Lucifer’s soldiers.

“Princess, you ready to leave?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you murderers! Let us go! Haven’t you done enough!”

I hear the door we came out from open again. There stood Lucifer with the letter in his hand. I hid in Sam terrified and clearly shaking.

“There you two are. I should have known you would have run outside.”

This was it. I was going to die by his hands, and I was trapped with no way out. This was the end.

#spn lucifer #lucifer x reader #medieval #medieval au

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dancedelion · 3 years

Text

Sleep of the Dead (part 2 / 3)

Genre: some humour, angst with a happy ending Summary: Jaskier thinks he hit rock bottom when Geralt flushed twenty years of friendship down the drain, but then he finds himself suddenly translucent and rudely walked through by a traveller. Apparently he’s dead - that’s certainly a new low. He needs to find out what happened, and who better to help him than the man who’s made more than clear he wants nothing to do with him. ao3: Sleep of the Dead - Chapter Two Chapter One

It’s clear as anything Geralt doesn’t want him here. He doesn’t even look at Jaskier and barely acknowledges his presence. But Jaskier can’t leave, even knowing he’s overstayed his welcome by days, months, years perhaps.

But it’s not all bad. Sometimes it gets so close to what Jaskier really wants that he can feel his heart breaking.

In the tavern, an amateur bard – if he is even worthy of the title – is butchering one of Jaskier’s songs. He yells over the music in Geralt’s ear as he’s nursing a drink. “You call that an A sharp? To me it sounds more like a D minus. Booh!”

Geralt seems to be smirking, so Jaskier is happy to continue.

“B flat? Oh, no, it sounded very, very bumpy.”

Prowling around the stage like he owns the place, the halfwit. Then – Jaskier lets out a loud gasp. “This goes to far! The line is ‘kissed her sea shell’, not ‘kissed her lips’. He’s messed up the rhyme scheme! Not to mention the complicated underlying symbolism. Geralt! I give you permission to take your sword and -”

“How many times do I have to say this? I’m not going to kill anyone for you.”

“What about light stabbing?” “This is not a negotiation.”

Jaskier gestures wildly with his arms.

“But you heard him! He’s terrible, playing my song. Don’t you agree?”

“Didn’t sound any different to me.” “Didn’t – uhm – what?!” Jaskier is nearly flailing now. “I’m dead, the least you could do is pay some respects!”

Geralt, very rudely, does not pay any respects and smirks into his drink instead.

An elegant lute with intricate carvings is propped up against one of the market stalls.

“Geralt, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Sometimes, the tiredness fades to a dull throb behind Jaskier’s eyelids. No matter how he feels, Jaskier pretends everything is fine, so Geralt won’t worry. (Not that Geralt would ever even look at him.)

“An overcrowded market filled with thieves and swindlers?” Geralt answers, so low that bystanders can’t hear him talking to the air.

“I’m seeing the afterlife worthy of the greatest troubadour on the continent! A lute that must have been crafted in heaven.”

“Good luck trying to pick it up.”

Huh. That does put a damper on it. None the matter. Jaskier is switching strategies.

“I might not be able to pick it up, but you know who has two fully functioning hands and a soft spot for bards not currently in the possession of useful things like money or a real body?”

“Hope you find him before the market closes.”

Jaskier turns around, definitely not pouting, and watches a woman trip over her dress in the middle of the market.

“Honestly,” he huffs. The woman grabs a tablecloth to drag herself up again, but instead all the fruits on the table come crashing down. “What has to happen for you to do something nice for me? Hell freezes over? It rains tiny horses?” Jaskier turns back around. “Why do you always -” Geralt is, as was to be expected, not listening. However, he is, as was certainly not to be expected, already over at the stall with the lute talking to the vendor.

Jaskier is innocuously smiling when Geralt straps the lute to Roach’s back.

“Shut up,” Geralt says.

Jaskier smiles more widely.

Ghosts can’t do much, Jaskier finds. They mostly – are. He used to love being. It was one of his favourite activities. But now… Ghosts can’t play the lute, which Geralt thankfully doesn’t mention, even as he drags the lute across the country. Maybe they are both living in fantasy land, where hope grows on trees.

And ghosts can’t sleep. And Jaskier is just so, so…

“Gods! Do you see this flower? This might be the prettiest flower I have seen in my entire life – oops, went a little too far there in the sentence. Let’s just say it’s the prettiest flower I have ever seen.”

It’s sitting right next to the path, radiating beauty and positive feelings. Geralt is staring straight ahead, not sparing it a glance.

“And can you guess whose hair it would look awfully pretty in?” Jaskier says.

Geralt’s eyebrows go up.

“Roach’s, obviously,” Jaskier says cheerfully. “Why, what did you think?”

Geralt huffs. It really is like talking to an air vent sometimes.

“Come on. I know only one opinion counts for you and I’m sure Roach would love it. Am I right, Roach?”

Roach, quite obviously in answer to his question, lifts her head a little. So Geralt, the big softie, picks the flower and puts it behind Roach’s ear, turning her effectively into the most beautiful horse in the country.

(And Jaskier wishes so much he could have this. Could touch Roach’s mane. Could feel the wind rolling through the trees. Could put his arm around Geralt’s shoulder.) (He slumps, letting a form sag he doesn’t even have.)

(Is this punishment, he wonders. Being able to close his eyes, but never to rest. Being allowed to see, but not touch. Having to watch the world turn on without him.)

Geralt walks a few steps ahead while Jaskier picks up a tune. At least he can still sing. Even if he’s missing the appreciative audience. (Is this what he is supposed to see? Geralt getting on without him, so Jaskier finally sees Geralt doesn’t need him, the world doesn’t need him, that he can let go? If that was the case, they really shouldn’t have let him hear that imposter of a bard play his song.)

“You know what the absolute worst part of this is? I can’t change my outfit. I died in my least favourite doublet. Fuck me, am I right?”

Geralt is by himself in the forest, listening only to the fire crackling in front of him.

“Not actually, I guess. None of that will be happening any time soon, I suspect, seeing that I’m dead.”

It’s not cold, exactly, not to a witcher, but he draws his jacket closer.

“Why am I wearing my least favourite doublet? Shouldn’t my spiritual form be a representation of my glorious self? I want a golden jacket. Maybe a bit of glitter, some sparkles.” “Could stand in the fire. Plenty of sparkles,” Geralt says unprompted.

He allows his eyes to slide over, just a tad to the right. The firelight doesn’t hit Jaskier. He looks barely there. He looks like he will fade out any minute.

He’s just a nightmare, nothing more.

Looking is an indulgence and torture at the same time. Hugging the knife, loving the taste of poison. Fluffed up hair, a fine looking doublet, he is sitting by the fire like a breathing man. He is different, more quiet, more wary, but so undeniably Jaskier.

This is just a mountain fantasy. The universe is cruel, that’s true, but not like this. This goes too far.

(You killed him on the mountain. You gave him the push.)

Geralt looks back to the fire. Is alone. By himself. Just him and Roach. Jaskier is far, far away and warm and breathing and alive alive alive

“Oh, Geralt” – there is nothing – “why must you” – only a shadow voice – “be so -” Geralt closes his eyes. There is only the wind.

“Wait, what’s that? I think – oh, fuck, Geralt -”

Geralt jerks, hears a noise from behind – is about to grab his sword – but something hits the back of his head and suddenly everything

It’s not unusual for Geralt to wake up in chains. This time, his prison is moving. His head is throbbing, but it won’t last long. Geralt slowly blinks his eyes open. He’s in the back of a carriage. Road’s bumpy. It’s hard to make out shapes at first, but Geralt looks around frantically – oh, thank goodness, there is –

No one. He is alone.

“You’re awake! That’s a relief. I was scared out of my mind.”

Geralt, for no particular reason at all, smiles a little.

“I didn’t see anyone coming but suddenly there was this shadow and I was like woah, but it was already too late and I barely made it behind you into the carriage. But now that you’re awake, it’s all good. Let’s escape!”

Geralt tugs at his chains, but they are tight around his wrists. Whoever locked him up did a good job.

“Too bad neither of us can walk through walls,” Geralt says.

“I’m not leaving you, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“I’m suggesting you do some recon.” The least the hallucination can do is make itself useful, since it’s living in Geralt’s mind rent-free.

“I’m not walking through the walls,” the hallucination says stubbornly.

“Why not?” “It’s weird. It’s… unsanitary.”

“I think hygiene is the least of your problems.”

Jaskier starts pacing the small space, though he can only go two steps before he has to turn around. The only light comes in from the gridded window behind him.

“The point is, I’m not doing it. It’s scary. Walking past instead of through walls is a hard habit to rid yourself of.”

“Fine. Then we’ll just wait it out and let my kidnappers get on with whatever nefarious plans they have for me.”

“Don’t you have a plan? You’re a witcher, you can come up with something.” “I do have a plan.”

Geralt stares at Jaskier intently. Jaskier throws up his arms in exasperation.

“Well, what would you do if your friend hadn’t conveniently been turned into a ghost for you?”

“Enjoy the imprisonment until an unlikely escape or very likely torture with adjacent death.”

Jaskier finally sighs loudly.

“Okay, okay, but just so you know –“

“If you feel vaguely uncomfortable walking through wood for a brief moment, it’s my fault?”

“That’s right.”

They wait until, a while later, the carriage comes to a stop.

Jaskier cracks his neck, as if preparing for a fight, and then hesitantly steps toward the carriage wall. In an instant, he’s disappeared.

And Geralt –

(The room seems suddenly much smaller, the air colder. He hears nothing. Inexplicably, his stomach is churning.)

Geralt is alone.

“Do recon, he says. Use your special ghost powers to save me, he says,” Jaskier grumbles. “Does that brute have any idea -” Jaskier, not looking where he was going, had accidentally walked through a man in a robe. He suppresses a sigh. That robe just screams fashion-ignorant mage. Geralt will not be happy.

He can spot three carriages in total. Judging by the heavy locks and bars in front of the small window, one of them only for the purpose of keeping a prisoner. Interesting. Had they always planned on kidnapping Geralt or was kidnapping in general just such a frequent activity for them that they had to come prepared? Like, hm, better take our prison chamber along, who knows what kind of non-suspecting witcher we’ll run into? How awfully sensible of them.

Now, what about the entourage? There are quite a few people on horses, many heavily armoured, some dressed like the snobs from court. One of them is standing in front of Geralt’s carriage, all glum, and taking his job very seriously, as though he is expecting Geralt to tear apart his chains and smash through the door any second. Robe-guy is also keeping an eye on the carriage, which can’t be good.

And who’s at the top of this chain of peacocks and bulls? Jaskier can only see him from behind, the doublet that’s way over the top, the feathery hat, chest puffed out.

Next to him, a woman is talking to him, turned sideways. She looks oddly familiar, but Jaskier can’t place it.

He tries to take a peak at the flag the riders are carrying, but the angle is bad and he can only make out some rose colours.

“What on earth is he thinking?” someone shouts right next to Jaskier’s head. He stumbles back, his head whipping around.

Just two run-of-the-mill soldiers chatting, it seems. But the horse they are feeding looks rather familiar. “Not so loud,” the smaller guy answers.

Uuuh, gossip. Jaskier is all ears.

“He’s out of his mind to bring a –“ the taller one continues. “Will you shut up? He just wants to make use of his assets. And you heard what happened to the other guy.”

“That’s no reason to fraternize with the bloody Butcher of Blaviken.”

Ah, gossiping about Geralt. That’s not so great.

“And now we’re being forced to take care of his damn horse -” “Paid, we’re being paid to -”

“Fuck off. Like he’s fucking royalty, we’re feeding his horse carrots. I don’t even have a horse.”

Jaskier can feel anger bubble up in him, but he only clenches his fist. In another lifetime, he would have given these people a piece of mind, one so big they would choke on it. But a gush of wind cannot sway someone’s opinion, much less knock them over the head with a stolen lance-thingy.

“What’s that you’ve been riding on all this time?” Mr. Small says and snickers. “An armadillo?”

“A what? No, that horse is a loan from the boss. It’s his horse.” There’s a small moment of despondent silence.

“I want a horse,” Mr. Tall says quietly.

Roach, ever the good horse, snaps her teeth in his direction.

“The witcher’s a monster. He stinks. He can’t love, everyone knows that, and he’s made to be violent – you know what he did in Blaviken. And to top it all off,” he raises his voice, becoming agitated, “he didn’t teach his horse any bloody manners.”

Years long Jaskier spent singing to anyone who would listen (or at any rate looked like they wouldn’t throw tomatoes at him until he got at least two songs out) what a great pal Geralt is, no, listen, he’s really great, you should see him once he’s taken a bath. And still, there’s people like these. Jaskier grits his teeth together until his jaw hurts.

“Shh, shh,” Mr. Small tells Roach and starts petting her head, “he doesn’t mean it.”

Mr. Tall is shaking his head, clearly still invested in hating Geralt as passionately as possible.

“If you’re asking me, I say we should take a pike and punch it through the bastard’s -”

Jaskier is definitely not asking. In fact, he is walking away. And through a carriage wall, if he must.

Geralt is right where Jaskier left him, except maybe a little more despondent.

“It’s not exactly a witcher-friendly environment.”

Jaskier comes right out with the merry news. Geralt lifts his head at that, tilts it thoughtfully. “They did kidnap me.”

So nonchalant, the man with heart of stone. But Geralt, of course, is used to the hatred. (People don’t just throw tomatoes at him, if worst comes to worst.)

“Apparently, some of them want to kill you.”

Geralt shrugs.

“It’s not so bad, by the looks of it.”

He fixes Jaskier with an expression that can’t be amused, must logically fall into the category of annoyed or at least indifferent. He’s made more than clear on the mountain –

Jaskier has lost them then, the smirks, the well-meant jabs, the companionable silences.

(Now who is seeing ghosts?) “Not – excuse you, didn’t you hear me when I told you about the outfit? Every day the same one, no variety, no -” He pauses and gives Geralt a calculating once-over. “I see how that wouldn’t be a problem for you. Is this the only shirt you own?”

“Getting off-topic.” “Right, right. So it seems to be some nobleman’s entourage. I spotted a mage too, might want to make a big bow around her. Pretty heavy locks and soldiers everywhere.”

Geralt is starting to look more pained with every word, the way that usually signals to Jaskier it’s his turn to be the optimistic one. Come to think of it, he almost always leaves that duty to Jaskier.

“Got any good news too?” he grunts. “Let me think – ah, those goons who want you dead seem to be extremely afraid of the guy who kidnapped you.”

Now Geralt looks at him coldly.

“How reassuring.”

“Ah, chin up,” Jaskier tries, “I’m sure everything -”

In that moment, the door snaps open. Jaskier flinches. He had expected to be able to hear them fumble with the multitude of locks they’d installed at the door before their grand entrance. And of course – it’s the magician. Who else could be so effortlessly dramatic?

“Witcher,” the mage announces snottily.

“Kidnapper,” Geralt inclines his head politely.

The mage ignores him, only looking around the carriage and taking another step inside.

“Wait,” he holds up a hand, “I’m sensing something strange around here.”

Jaskier recoils – then he straightens his doublet, scratches his head.

“Strange?” he mumbles, slightly offended.

“A draft?” Geralt asks, playing innocent, but Jaskier can hear the quiet amusement in his voice.

“No, not a draft.” The mage flicks his tongue in annoyance. “Something of magical origin.”

“Aaw, Geralt, did you hear that? He thinks I’m magical,” Jaskier preens, “and he hasn’t even seen what I can do with a lute and -”

“Perhaps a rat,” Geralt interrupts, levelling the mage with his stare.

“A rat?” Jaskier is getting more offended by the second. “Can’t you at least give me mouse? Mice are cute.”

Geralt is not quite smiling, but Jaskier can see little wrinkles around his eyes.

“None the matter,” the mage says. “You’ve been surprisingly easy to get a hold off, witcher. Not on top of your game, is that it? There are rumours you’ve lost your mind.”

Jaskier has a sneaking suspicion that last part might be his fault.

“Then why bother talking to me?” Geralt says only. “I’m not sure how much you’ll gain from the nonsensical ramblings of a lunatic.”

The mage’s lips thin out.

“It’s not information we need.”

That hopefully minimizes the chance for torture, unless they are out for revenge or torture just for the joy and fun of it. Jaskier starts circling the man, pondering if he might be lying.

“Then what is?”

Jaskier is painfully aware that Geralt is the only one of them in danger, the only one who can get hurt, and yet Jaskier is scared as if he were tied to Geralt, back to back. (And alive enough to feel the chains around his wrists.)

“For one, you needed to be neutralized. You should really be more careful where you mumble about your travel plans to yourself.”

At that, Jaskier perks up – travel plans?

“What’s wrong with my travel plans?” Geralt says, “Lettenhove not sunny enough this time of year? Inns too expensive?”

“It seems your plans were interfering with our own.”

Geralt doesn’t seem to find it necessary to mention that him and Jaskier hadn’t exactly had a plan, at least none exceeding “go to Jaskier’s hometown”. Jaskier starts to become suspicious. The mage might know something they don’t.

“In what way?” “That shouldn’t concern you, witcher.”

Great, Jaskier thinks. When has a mage ever been forthcoming?

What does the mage want in Lettenhove? Jaskier tries to focus, on anything other than the feeling of falling asleep, of being so terribly, terribly tired – what was before? If something happened in Lettenhove, it’s all the more likely Jaskier ended up there, too – that it happened to him too.

“We only need your help to get into the castle,” the mage goes on.

“Have you tried the door?” Geralt says drily.

“It’s not quite so simple.”

“Mind being less of a cryptic bastard?”

“You’ll see when you get there. I just want to make sure you are going to cooperate.”

“Ah, I don’t know,” Geralt narrows his eyes. “You haven’t even offered me tea.”

“But you are still alive. If you need more incentive, how about this,” the mage lets a ball of fire float above his palm, “I will be with you every step of the way.”

“Unwavering support. How nice,” Geralt says. “But I usually manage without.”

“We’re not taking any chances, witcher.”

The mage extinguishes his flame.

“Rest now. We will start our journey again in the morning.”

With those words, the mage disappears, the doors slamming shut behind him.

A breath leaves Jaskier’s body, one he would be damned to let Geralt hear.

“I would feel more well-rested if you hadn’t knocked me out,” Geralt says to the air.

“A little insulting they only sent their mage and not the head of the operation to make ominous threats,” Jaskier remarks.

“Didn’t you hear? That wasn’t a threat. He only wanted to hold my hand and pet my head while I did his dirty work.”

“Veiled threat, then,” Jaskier decides to compromise. “Well fuck. What do we do now?”

Geralt doesn’t seem overly optimistic, but then - he never does. And he makes it out of every tough spot in the end, Jaskier knows. But now he only shrugs, seeming more like a ghost than he has any right to, considering the circumstances.

We can’t both fade out, Jaskier thinks. You have to hold on. They say a person lives on through memory. Who is going to faintly think of me every ten years and not speak to a soul about my existence if you are gone?

Jaskier thinks this very intently, but Geralt doesn’t look any less tired once he is done. He only blinks, once, twice, and looks at Jaskier very slowly, the way he never does anymore.

“I’d say you better start remembering what happened to you.”

#the witcher fanfiction #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #geraskier fanfic #the witcher fic #geraskier fic

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mariamermaid · 4 years

Text

Dangerous Woman

Detective Loki X Female Reader

Summary: When a huge case involving a serial killer evolves, it is decided to add a federal agent from the FBI. Detective Loki doesn´t seem very happy about the newly found support….

Words: 8.3k

Warnings: violence, graphical terms, smoking, drinking, swearing

A/N: Inspired by the song Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande and this turned out so much longer than expectedXD

---------------

The matt black Camaro parked right in front of the rather small police station, located in Pennsylvania.

“Look likes your new partner has a good taste in cars”, a deputy snarked and the other officers interrupted in casual laughter. David Loki didn´t seem impressed.

He silently hated the fact that the partner he was signed up with was into posh cars, he probably was some kind of asshole from the higher ranks, thinking he was better than everybody.

Almost the entire police station was glued on the window, waiting for the Agent to step out the car. There wasn´t much information provided from the FBI; special agent Y/l/n, was in the army, Afghanistan and Iran, Sergeant first class, trained sniper, one of the highest kill rates…

Degree in criminal psychology, black belt in taekwondo and karate…

To sum up; a storybook career.

Loki waited in the back of the station, leaned against the small kitchen counter, a freshly poured coffee cup in his hand. From the back he could still look at the window and wasn´t half as conspicuous.

Then the door finally opened, a dark boot stepped out first, then everybody´s jaws dropped.

Agent Y/l/n, was a woman?

You wore boots, a simple pair of jeans and your favorite leather jacket, which held you warm in the foggy state. You were stupid if you hadn´t realized the station watching you, so you made sure to give them a show. You already guessed that you had to deal with some kind of sexist assholes, you always had to in your job. But you never missed an opportunity to show them wrong, you were highly qualified and you took your job very seriously. Especially when it involved a multiple case of brutal murder and a possible serial killer.

Don't need permission

Made my decision to test my limits

'Cause it's my business, God as my witness

When you walked into the police station, half of the officers were still standing at the window, the other half had hurried back to the desks to act unobtrusive casual.

You walked over to the very first desk, where a young deputy was seated, he already blushed when you approached.

“I´m here to see a Detective Loki”, you stated and shyly the deputy looked up to barely hold eye contact with you.

“Miss, I think you got lost, this is a police station.” Another officer, Loki knew him well, interrupted your conversation. He was older than Loki, been there longer but Loki had solved more cases and all of them successful. He and Johnson didn´t get along very well, he was an idiot. He didn´t treat women right, cheated on his girlfriend multiple times and if Loki didn´t know it better, Johnson had hit her as well. But he was highly respected, grew up in the town and just like that, he was able to gloss over the incidents with women.

He already wanted to put his cup down, to get the young woman away from Johnson, when she pulled out her badge.

“Special Agent, Y/l/n, FBI”, she visibly rolled her eyes, Johnsons jaw dropped again.

“You´re…” He couldn´t finish, you didn´t let him.

“I`m here to help investigate a murder, so if you don´t mind, I would appreciate it if you showed me to Detective Loki, before another dead body turns up.”

The police station fell silent, nobody ever talked like that to Johnson, sometimes Loki did, but he stopped bothering a long time ago.

It was until Loki cleared his throat and joined your small group, the cup still in one of his hands.

“You´re looking for me”, he explained and his free hand reached out. You shook it and noted the strong grip, but not too strong really. He realized that you still looked young, younger than him even, especially considering the pile of titles you had already received.

“Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n.”

“David Loki.” You both nodded at each other with mutual respect and relieved that you didn´t have to put up with Johnson anymore longer, you followed Loki to his desk.

His desk was located in the back of the station, shielded from the rest by some thin walls. Two other desks were in the cube, only one of them had a computer.

“This one´s yours”, he nodded towards the one with the computer. At the wall were pictures hung up, a few notes next to them.

You eyed them closely until Loki held up a file to you.

“Three dead bodies in two weeks, two women and one man. The women were killed by poison and after their, what seemed painful, death, were put into gruesome poses.

You starred at the pictures in horror; the first woman, she barely seemed twenty, was hung from the ceiling right above a white, king sized bed with golden details. The rope was attached to her hands, she was naked and around her mouth was a gag bit. At the wall behind her was writing in red: “No legacy is as rich as honesty”.

“Shakespeare”, you murmured more to yourself than to Loki. He still nodded.

“It´s seems to be a theme”, he handed you more pictures from the second woman.

She was naked as well, bruises covering her body, sat on a simple wooden chair. Her legs were spread and a dark blue color was smeared from her inner legs to the floor, where it spelled: Lawless are they that make their wills their law.

Your breath hitched; “Was she…?” Loki shook his head quickly, understanding.

“No, none of them were raped. The woman had traces of needle injections at their arms, the man on his neck.”

Loki watched you process, your eyes racing through the files, your bows furrowed and your nose slightly twitched.

“The man was found just yesterday, I haven´t been to the murder scene yet”, he further explained and you laid down the files on your desk.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Loki almost jumped up from his chair, grabbing his jacket. You quickly glanced at his figure, he was taller than you, a muscular build with broad shoulders. His hair was sleek back, on his neck was a tattoo of a star, and on his fingers was ink as well. Around his torso was the holster with the gun. He had icy eyes and dark brows.

You had to admit, he was attractive.

When you walked through the station behind him, you could feel the eyes lingering on you.

“You drive, you know the vicinity better than me”, you stated and already followed him to his car.

***

The corpse was still lying on the ground when you arrived. Two men were just about to lift the body away, when you stopped them from doing so.

“Leave him be!” You ordered and almost sprinted out of the car, Loki right on your tail. He noted your fast sprint, keeping it in mind.

You both took out the badges, then entered the closed off location.

Loki was handed a file from an officer and read it out, while you took a closer look at the body.

“Ben Brown, age; 31, worked at the library, described as a shy, but polite neighbor.”

He realized how you barely listened and then stopped reading, to join you as well.

You were leaned over the body, your fingers in rubbery gloves, you slowly searched the body.

His collar was squashed right where the needle at gone into this skin.

Bruises around the neck as well.

“He fought against it, he tried to get away.” You figured and Loki looked at you, almost surprised, his eyes squinting.

“How´d you know?”

“The collar, it´s dry, but it´s been raining for two days, he grabbed the coat to leave the house. He was surprised by the killer. And the needle at the neck was brutally pushed into the skin, you see the coloring around the neck and the wrists, he was held down. It needed to go quick, the women were all tied when the injection came.”

You were good, even David had to admit, but he would never admit it openly.

“His watch, expensive, probably a present, with the salary of a librarian he couldn´t afford that.”

“There is nothing said about his family, they weren´t close. No girlfriend.” David added until you suddenly jumped up from the ground to look at the color on the wall.

“It´s blue? The same as from the second murder?” You asked and Loki nodded.

“Seems like it.” Detective Loki wasn´t one to share his thoughts, but you were quick to analyze and he knew that it would help the case. It was all that mattered.

“Be or not to be, that is the question”, you read out the quote, then going back to biting your lip.

You both starred at the wall in silence until you suddenly turned again to rush towards Loki´s car.

“Where are you going?”

“We. We are going to the library.”

Start what I finished

Don't need no hold up

Taking control of this kind of moment

I'm locked and loaded

Completely focused, my mind is open

***

Loki took the statement from the other librarians, but none of them knew too much about Brown, he was quiet, ordinary.

In the mean time you had sat down at the computer and your fingers quickly tipped away. Loki seemed annoyed by the tone of the keys, mostly because you were able to work so fast and he himself wasn´t good with computers.

When Loki was finished and he then looked over your shoulder; you searched through the data base for several books from Shakespeare.

“Andy Williams, within four months he read every book that is available here.” You rose and almost bumped into Loki, who was closer than you had expected. For seconds you felt his breath hitting you skin and his eyes starring at your close face.

“Sorry”, you mumbled while he led back to his car.

“You know where Andy´s living?”

“No, but I´ll find out on the way.”

Andy Williams was a failure, he had an alibi for the times of the murder, but you didn´t fully trust him.

He was at the army and turned out to be a literature lover. You had found several books from Shakespeare and other famous authors in his house.

Now you and Loki both sat at your desks, looking through the files, searching for something, anything really.

When a knock appeared, Loki´s head snapped from the computer to see Johnson leaning at the wall.

“Thought I could ask, if you needed some help”, his statement was obviously aimed towards you, but you didn´t even look up.

“You know, Loki is…” Johnson lunged out to toss some kind of insult about Loki, but you interrupted his miserable try, without looking up.

“Detective Loki is fully capable of investigating this case and highly qualified, if I may add.”

You explained nonchalantly, then you finally looked up to stare into Johnsons angry eyes.

“But if you want to help so badly, you could bring us some coffee, please.” Your voice dripped bittersweetly, Loki couldn´t help but grin.

“I have some milk with it, you David?” Loki noticed how you had suddenly used his first name and he wasn´t used to the sound, yet…

“Black”, he answered and watched how Johnson left the office, angrily starring at him. He followed your order, after all you were sent by the FBI.

Your eyes faced the computer again, but you felt how Loki still starred at you.

“He doesn´t like it when somebody talks to him like that.”

“I don´t care what he likes.”

“You think I´m highly qualified?”

You stopped and glanced at him, the hint of a smile was still on his lips.

“You solved all of your cases, why shouldn´t I think so?” But then you offered him a smile as well.

“Don´t let it go to your head.”

***

Andy Williams had lied, he did have a date, but that ended at 8.30pm when he left the parking spot from the Italian restaurant, alone. You had found the tape of the security camera, which showed him driving away.

“8.30? Gives him enough time to drive to drive over to Browns house and kill him.” Loki thought out loud and you nodded in agreement. The rain was still pouring and the constant sound of the windscreen wiper calmed you down. You sat in his car again, eyeing Loki from the side and the star tattoo on his neck.

“Like what you see?”

You almost chocked and quickly faced the street again, Loki smirked.

“He didn’t wear a dog tag.”

Loki glanced over to you, now being serious again. “What?”

“Williams didn´t wear a dog tag from the military, I barely know anybody who doesn´t wear theirs.”

“Do you wear yours?”

You pulled the necklace out from your shirt and Loki looked at it for a few seconds. It was only a half.

“Where is the other half?”

You chuckled lowly.

“Broke off when the bullet hit me.”

“You were shot?”

You nodded, now looking out the window, avoiding his eyes.

“Yeah, almost died. The tag saved my life.”

He didn´t ask more, knowing well that there were some things not to talk about- at least not while he didn´t know you better.

It was your turn to ring the bell, but even after waiting for some minutes, nobody answered. Loki already sighed annoyed; you rang the bell again, now longer.

“Mr. Williams, Detective Loki and Agent Y/l/n, we have a few more questions”, you explained loudly, but still nothing even moved inside the house.

Loki and you both drew your guns, exchanging looks. His eyes scanned your face, asking if you were ready and you were.

Loki looked down at the door and kicked it up, then he entered first. You followed him, aiming at the opposite’s direction, to ensure that you had all sides covered. Your back brushed against his, even though it was a good sign, showing you, he was there to have your back as well, it made your flesh crawl. A wave of warmth running through your body.

All that you got

Skin to skin, oh my God

Don't you stop, boy

“Mr. Williams?” Loki yelled, louder, deeper than you. Together you made your way through the house, until you entered the kitchen, nothing was yet suspicious.

Sadly, you heard the rumble from the separated chamber too late, Andy Williams aggressively pushed the door open, hitting you hard. You fell back and Andy jumped over the table to run through the back door.

“Go!” It was all you could get out, but even before, Loki was already on his tail. However, he had glanced down to check if you were okay.

Williams was fast, Loki wasn´t sure if he´d get him.

In the meantime, you pulled yourself together, and left the house through the front door. You felt how blood ran down from your nose and you swore to yourself for not having reacted faster.

Loki hunted him through backyards of various neighbors. It was until he climbed over a high wall, that Loki took a little longer to get over. When Williams wanted to turn the corner back to the main street, you jumped out. Loki just lunged down the stone wall, right next to the large dumpsters, when you threw you first punch at him. Your hand hit him at the throat and he heavily coughed. Williams was completely taken by surprise, but changed into fight mode. He tried boxing you several times, but you blocked them all. With the last punch you took his arm, twisting it and then throwing him over your shoulder.

He landed hard on his back and while he was still lying down, you used precise movements to quickly handcuff him. Loki drew his gun again. It was his luck that there was no time, otherwise you would have noticed the impressed look in his face. But you did notice it.

“Andy Williams, you´re under arrest.”

Somethin' 'bout you makes me feel like a dangerous woman

Somethin' 'bout you

Makes me wanna do things that I shouldn't

Somethin' 'bout you

***

A cooling pack landed in your lap and surprised you looked up to see Loki entering the office.

Your forehead had taken most of the door, which had hit you and even though it hurt like hell, it wouldn´t be more than a bump. The blood from your nose and your right eyebrow had stopped bleeding, having mostly dried. You were just rubbing it off.

To your surprise, David didn´t stop approaching until he leaned down to inspect your eyebrow. His thumb carefully brushed against your skin and you flinched.

Abruptly he took his hand back, just then realizing as well how close he had gotten.

“Doesn´t look like you need stitches”, he mumbled and sat back down at his desk. You only nodded, feeling a little stiff.

After a short break, you cleared your throat to change the topic.

“I went through his computer; Asian Porn. He downloaded it that evening and forgot to delete the history.”

“Is that an alibi?”

You shrugged. “Technically he could have driven home, started the download and then go to Brown´s.”

“Seems unlikely.” “But not impossible, we should interrogate him now.”

You wanted to stand up, but Loki shielded you from the door.

“You´re hurt.”

“I´m fine!” You exclaimed angrily.

“I´ll do it.”

You hated how stubborn Loki suddenly acted, but still you waited in the room on the other side. The one-sided mirror allowed you to watch Loki and a few machines to your left, recorded everything.

“Tell me, where were you that evening?” Loki asked as he walked around the table, where Andy sat handcuffed.

“You already know everything!” Andy Williams exclaimed loudly, the handcuffs ringing against the table. He was clearly panicking. Then Loki suddenly grabbed him by the collar. You gasped in surprise, you hadn´t expected Loki to become violent and it shocked you.

Without hesitating you hurried into the interrogation room and ripped the door open. Williams fell back on the chair, a fearful expression on his face and you angrily starred at Loki.

“Out!” You ordered Loki with a strict voice; he had gone too far!

“I was just-“, you stepped forward and didn´t even let him speak.

“Detective Loki, I order you to leave this room, now! Or the FBI will have no other choice than taking you off the case.” You warned him in a low voice and he huffed angrily, then storming out the room.

You turned towards Williams, a stressed smile on your lips.

“If you´d excuse my partner, he will no longer talk to you. Can I get you something to drink, water, coffee?” He almost smiled shyly, your presence obviously flustering him.

“Coffee please.”

“What were you thinking?!” You entered the office you and Loki shared, but the thin walls allowed the entire station to listen.

“I was interrogating him!”

“You were threatening him with violence, which is a clear contempt against the law! This could cost your job!” David swallowed, not being able to return an answer or any eye contact.

He wasn´t used to somebody watching over his shoulder, he had lost control a few times in his former case, the dover case with the missing girls. Silent set in and Loki regretted his behavior more than ever, it was just like when he was a teenager and he left the station.

***

The next day a knock appeared on his door, he had fallen asleep on the couch. The smell of cigarettes lingered in the apartment, he felt like straight up shit.

When it was knocked for the third time, he finally opened the door, just to find you waiting.

His eyes widened in surprise and he remembered how terrible he must´ve looked, or smelled.

“What are you doing here?” His brows furrowed even more at your question.

“I could ask you them same”, he mumbled.

“I need a partner”, you finally admitted quietly, your eyes suddenly facing the ground.

“I thought you get me fired.”

“I thought so too, but there is a serial killer out there and I need a good detective at my side.”

David couldn´t imagine what it taken for you to show up at his door. He knew now that he was on thin ice, but for some reason, it felt nice to have somebody at his side. Somebody keeping him at the right level, it was something almost nobody was able to do.

Nothing to prove and I'm bulletproof and

Know what I'm doing

The way we're movin'

Like introducing us to a new thing

You put down the coffee cup on his desk and Loki looked up with tired eyes. An entire week had passed in the meantime, and you hadn´t found any evidence that Andy Williams was the murder, so you had to let him go. You also hadn´t found any other hints or abnormalities, and no new corpse was found. It was a quiet and rather depressive week. No progress in any way.

“Thanks”, he muttered and the circles under his eyes seemed darker than ever. You knew he didn´t sleep enough, or eat enough. You had problems with it as well, it was all too understandable. It was now the sixth night in a row, where David and you were the last ones in the station besides the deputy for the night. Sighing exhausted, you closed the file which you had looked through for what seemed the hundredth time now, and starred at Loki.

“Wanna grab some dinner?”

Your question surprised him, even though you had eaten together few times together now. But never out; you had just sat at your desks, eating in silent, your eyes never leaving your notes.

“Sure, I know this Asian place?” He offered and you nodded while taking your coat as well.

“Sounds good to me.”

You had pushed through the rides between places with silence, but now you sat at the small Asian restaurant, it was just past eleven pm. And the restaurant was emptied.

You had avoided the eye contact for now, while Loki´s eyes hadn´t even left your body once.

“Why did they put you here?”

“Because I´m an Agent?”

“No, I mean why you? I´ve looked through your file, you could work at even higher cases.”

He was right, the FBI was just about to offer you a higher rank, giving you the opportunity to lead your own team. But something about that idea didn´t convince you.

“I don´t know, I´ve thought working for the FBI was good, but I kinda miss this.”

“This?” Loki sounded surprised, the thought that you could miss something like this startled him.

“What could a woman like you miss about this?” He asked and immediately realized how stupid the question sounded. But you interrupted in gentle laughter.

“A woman like me?” He shrugged. “You’re a successful soldier, agent, you even got a degree and all that stuff… You´re…”

“Dangerous. First and foremost, I am dangerous.” You explained and he furrowed his brows. “Those men, they fear women like me. They think we want to take over the control.” You chuckled again and Loki smiled as well. “I can imagine you taking over high roles, leading teams and shit.”

You shook your head, even though you had to admit he flattered you.

“Nah, it´s not really something for me. But I thought so in the beginning.”

“And now?” You shrugged. “I don´t know yet.”

Then the food came, you starred at the fried rice with big eyes.

“That looks amazing!” Loki laughed, something you hadn´t heard often. “Told you so.”

When you walked back to the car, it was pouring again. Loki quickly stepped in front of you, opening the car door for you and his eyes glistening as he barely smiled at you. You smiled as well, brightly into the night, happy about the fact that the rain cooled your cheeks down. But then your smiled suddenly dropped, even before you sat in the car.

“Oh my god!” His smile faded as well and now he let down the jacket, he was using to shield from the rain. “What?”

“We only checked Andy, not the date he was with!”

“But he already explained that it was a rip off, he had met her online and she didn´t even bother to show up.”

“How do you know that for real?”

His mouth also slightly opened and you saw, how his mind started working. You jumped into the car, your finger brushing against his hand, which still laid on the top of the door.

I wanna savor, save it for later

The taste, the flavor, 'cause I'm a taker, 'cause I'm a giver

It's only nature, I live for danger

Serena Jackson, well that was the name that gave the computers from the face scan from her profile picture. An attractive young woman, last residence a few towns away. Luckily, the diner where Andy Williams was supposed to meet her, was opened 24/7, and they gave you the tapes.

Sadly, the video recorder didn´t have the entire diner on tape, a few dark corners were barely noticeable.

“There!”, you leaned closer as Loki paused the tape to lean forward as well. In one of the corners, which darkly laid in the back, sat a woman who could be Serena. A lonely corner table, also hidden by a large plant and the bad lighting. A large sweater, the hood pulled up and only a few strands of hair fell out. “Maybe, it´s not enough for an actual proof.” Loki admitted annoyed, he was right. The face wasn´t clear enough on the monochrome picture.

“We need to check her”, you sighed and your hand ran through your already messed up hair, it was late and the missing sleep was getting to you. Loki watched you in the dimmed light of the cube office, the rest of the station almost completely dark. He blinked a few times.

“We can check it out tomorrow”, he added and threw your coat into your arms. Surprised by his gesture but yet too tired to mention it, you left the station together.

When you reached the parking lot an awkward silence came up.

“I guess we´ll see each other tomorrow?”, you asked unsure and he nodded, not looking at you. You bit your lip, now glancing at the ground as well.

“Try to get some sleep, we´ll both work better then.” He cracked a weak smile and you let out a small laugh. Then you drove back to the motel, where you lived at the time.

7am. and a call woke you up, still tired you reached for your phone next to the bed. The curtains were pulled close, no shutters. The motel was mostly empty, most of the people were there for work, just like you. The day before you had caught a young couple searching for some privacy, you had smiled at them, a nostalgic smile. They had something you always wished for; normalcy.

“Yes?” “There´s another dead body!” You jumped off the bed and started fishing your clothes together. You knew you should be doing the laundry soon, and the thought of a nice shower made you jealous.

“Who is it?”

“It´s not officially approved, but by the looks of it; Serena Jackson.” You gasped and already put on your shoes. “Does Loki know?”

“Already called him, he´s on his way.”

“We should have checked her yesterday”, you sounded annoyed and Loki knew you were right. It only made it worse that it was his suggestion to go home instead. But he also remembered the tired look in your matt eyes; now your eyes were burning furiously.

“We couldn´t have known what happened”, Loki muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

He was right, but you couldn´t admit that. Not with the sight of a naked, dead woman right in front of you. And Loki accepted it.

All that you got

Skin to skin, oh my God

Don't ya stop, boy

Somethin' 'bout you makes me feel like a dangerous woman

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout you

Makes me wanna do things that I shouldn't

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout you

“There must be a connection, a motive!” You exclaimed more annoyed than ever.

“No common friends, family, hobbies.” Loki was seated back at his desk, his legs spread on the chair. He watched as you hurried up and down the office space, he was just as unsettled as you, but didn´t show it.

“But there must be something!”

“Need help now?” You clearly jumped at Johnsons sudden voice and your eyes angrily travelled down his body. Johnson was in his late 40ties, had light brown hair and dark eyes, wore his mustache with disgusting proud and strolled around with his beer belly. There was a certain look to him, not a bad one and it was somewhat imaginable that with a few charming pickup lines, women could fell for him. But something about him deeply disgusted you, you couldn´t really pinpoint it, but your stomach turning at his sight couldn´t be a good sign.

“Maybe you need a real man on this case.”

It was a clear insult towards you and Loki, and you snorted contemptible. But you had to remain calm. At all costs.

You closed your eyes. Took a deep breath in. Counted.

After five breaths, you were somewhat calm. After another five you had left the station.

You hated the fact that the case wasn´t going as smoothly as hoped.

Maybe you could better work under someone´s watch, maybe going solo wasn´t for you after all.

Maybe you could focus better in another environment.

Maybe you could concentrate better if Loki wasn´t as attract…

“Goddammit!” You yelled out and the low stone wall next to the police station, where flowers were placed in the summer, earned a hard kick from your foot.

“Did it help?”

You hadn´t noticed how Loki had followed you and watched you now, trying to avoid the grin laying on his lips. You blushed and immediately kicked the wall again.

“I don´t think we´ll find the killer like that.”

“I don´t think we´ll find the killer if men continue to make stupid comments around here!”

You knew it was his try to make you feel better and you should appreciate it. You had obviously realized how David treated you differently. He remembered how you liked your coffee, how you were allergic to carrots, how you always took notes on everything that was laying around. But you always thought it was because you had threatened to get him fired.

But you needed some time alone now.

Without another word, or even look at him, you sat in the car and drove away. You were sure to feel bad for it later.

On the way to the freeway, you found an old bar. More sordid than anything else, where you could still smoke without any fire alarms. With an old billiard table and photos hanging on the walls.

At this time of day, it was almost empty, a few elderly men in the back, playing poker.

The bartender greeted you politely.

“What can I do for such a gorgeous lady?”

You eyed the liquor card, but then remembered your car outside and the pile of papers from the new corpse waiting for you.

“Just a coke please.”

Bartenders had the wonderful trait to read all of your problems with one look, in a way they were just therapists.

“Hard day?”

The ice cubes in your glass clinked as you took a sip.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“What is a lady like you doing in a town like this?”

You didn´t answer, instead you took the newspaper laying on the bar counter.

Third woman found dead, serial killer still on loose

“These are hard times”, the bartender added as he watched you read the article.

He was around sixty, long grey locks and a grey beard. He wore an armless leather jacket, on the back embroidery; 89 motor gang.

“I´m here for work”, you finally explained and closed the paper again.

“Work? Hm”, he hummed while taking out a few glasses from the dishwasher.

“Are you a cop?” “Is it that obvious?”

“No, not really. But rumors go around fairly quickly around here.”

“What rumors?” “About this female badass agent from the FBI and how Loki got an eye on her.”

“Detective Loki does not have an eye on me. We´re both professionals.”

“He and professional? He grew up in four different foster homes, that kid was everything but easy. It was his luck that the old sheriff saw something in him.”

Your eyes grew bigger as he talked, but then you leaned over the glass of coke again.

“There is a fourth body, if we don´t solve the case we´ll both be jobless soon.”

The bartender laughed, a light laugh, which echoed in the empty room.

“I´m pretty sure you´ll solve the case. Loki always solves his cases, no matter how hard they are and now after I met you, well you seem very capable of the situation.”

You gave him a weak smiled and put down a ten-dollar bill.

“Keep the rest.”

When you raised from the stool, to put on your jacket again, your eyes fell onto the wall with the pictures. They were made from a polaroid camera, not the new mock offs, the old originals. With monochrome filters in black and white, but they aged to a browner tone. Your finger traced one picture in particular.

“Is that?”

“Serena Jackson, yes. She worked here, almost two years ago before she moved away.”

“Why?”

Your eyes were still glued on the wall and slowly travelled along the pictures.

“There was a… incident. With a man.”

You turned back to the bartender. “What man?”

He shrugged and his eyes pointed back to the wall.

A few pictures away, hidden by newer ones, was a picture of Serena behind the counter. Next to her stood a man; Johnson.

“Were they in a relationship?”

“As far as I´m concerned they were on a couple dates, but Serena wasn´t sold. One evening, when she was working here, he arrived completely wasted. Screamed around how she had apparently cheated on him, I threw him out. Almost lost my ownership- it was ugly, but two weeks later she resigned.

“May I?” You gestured to the picture and after he nodded, you took it off the wall. Your eyes scanned the picture. Serena smiled widely into the camera, Johnson only glanced at her briefly.

In front of the bar, seated on the stool were two girls; the first two victims.

“Do you know these women?”

He shrugged. “They only came here once, or twice. But I can remember; after the fight with Johnson, Serena went onto the toilet and they went after her to comfort her.”

“Did they know each other?”

He shook his head. “No, they were here with different people.”

You already were back on your feet, ready to rush out the bar, when the bartender spoked up again.

“But… the first one, she grew up around here. And the second one was dumped a few days earlier, I remember how she told it Serena, that all men are idiots.”

“Thank you, thank you so much!”

All girls wanna be like that

Bad girls underneath, like that

You know how I'm feeling inside

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout

“Where´s Loki?” You asked hectically, but the young, unexperienced deputy shook his head. He didn’t know. You stormed to your office cube, but he wasn´t there. Then you started searching your files, you needed prove that the women had contact to each other…

You couldn´t find anything, important files were missing. “Fuck!”, you exclaimed and grabbed your phone again. It was only his mailbox. “David? If you get this, call me immediately, I have a lead!” On a napkin from the Chinese food, you had ordered a few days ago, you write down Johnson´s name and laid it next to an empty coffee cup on Loki´s desk. You ran back to the station center. “Where is Johnson?” The deputy furrowed his eyebrows once again and shrugged. “We also wondered, he didn´t come to duty today, but maybe he was too long at the bar yesterday, it happens from time to time.”

“Shit, shit, shit!” You hurried out the station, only glancing down on your phone. David hadn´t called yet. Not it was up to you.

You found Johnson´s house quickly and roughly parked in front of it, adrenalin rushing through your veins. When you reached his door, you already had the gun in your hands. You rang the bell.

“Johnson! Open up!”

No answer. And you didn´t have the patience anymore. The door was old, needed a paint job and at the second try, you had opened it. Starting to search the place. The dark floor smelled like cigarettes, in the kitchen and living room were empty beer bottles. On the coffee table in front of the beige, nidorous smelling couch, laid the files from your office. One moment of not paying attention, something hit your head and you fell to the ground. You robbed trying to get your gun, but Johnson kicked it away and his hands grabbed your throat from behind. You chocked, but then took an empty beer bottle to throw at his head. He fell to the side, which gave you the time to turn around and get up. With your feet you were able to kick his head once again to the side, so that he was thrown to the ground. The gun was too far by now. However, you jumped at him and threw several punches at his face. But then one of his hands grabbed your wrist and he banged his head against yours. You fell back bleeding and a blurry vision. Before realizing what was happening, he hovered again over you. You weren´t ready to give up just yet, but then a needle pinched your skin at your leg. He had giving you a poisonous injection. You wanted to scream or move, but a sudden tiredness over rolled you.

Your head fell back on the dusty wooden floor and everything turned black…

All girls wanna be like that

Bad girls underneath, like that

You know how I'm feeling inside

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout

Loki on the other hand had gone home, but on the way, he met an old friend. Mrs. Dover just came home with her daughter from the grocery shopping. “Detective Loki!” She greeted him lightly and smiled. The now grown girl immediately hugged him around his waist. “Oh hey”, he greeted them rather awkwardly. Mrs. Dover had a tough time behind her and it was admirable, how she had regained normality. “How are you?” He asked politely and she nodded. “We´re good, it was hard, but we´re getting there with each day.” He nodded. “And you? How´s the case?” He scratched the back of his head. “Ehm it´s hard”, Mrs. Dover laughed. “I´m sure you´ll solve it, anyway have a partner now, right?” He couldn’t answer and blushed.

“Yeah, you know the rumors go around quickly here.” She took a break. “You should tell her, if you like her. It´s just some advice.” She smirked and then blinked at him.

He sat back in the car, wanting to drive back home. But the road took him somewhere else..

It was a lake, he had often spent time there in his late teenager days, but almost forget about it. He leaned against the car and just starred at the icy water; the trees slightly covered with first snow. It was beautiful and somehow, he wished, that you were there with him. He wanted to show you this sight, wanted to watch how your eyes grew big and how your smiled formed on your lips. But he was alone. Loki was unsure. He never felt like this before. First, he had thought it was just a simple crush, but it felt different now. The weeks and weeks of work, spent together. He knew you kept it professional, but always hoped to maybe to you out to dinner again.

Then his phone rang; three missed calls.

“Fuck!”

He had forgotten how bad the connection was when heading up to the road into the forest, where the lake was. “David? If you get this, call me immediately, I have a lead!” Then he pressed the call button, but you didn´t answer and he started rushing to the police station.

Somethin' 'bout you makes me feel like a dangerous woman

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout you

Makes me wanna do things that I shouldn't

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout you

You growled in pain, as yet another punch hit your stomach. “You just had to find out!” Johnson explained furiously. You sat tied up to a chair, your mouth covered by an old cloth. You had no idea where you were, it seemed like a basement like room, dark with no light. You had no gun and you were sure that Johnson had destroyed your phone. All you could do was hope for David.

“I didn´t expect much when Loki, that idiot took the case. I mean yeah, he´s okay, but I had all of my traces covered, I lead you right into the direction where I wanted you to go. But then you appeared and you worked oh so rigorously together, being quicker than expected. Brown had seen me, you know?” He walked through the room, feeling every moment of his plan that he showed you so carefully. He wanted you to understand, he was planning on killing you.

“He had seen me, so I had to get right of him. He should’ve been another victim, but you figured out that he was different. And then Serena…” He smiled and hovered over you again.

“Serena made all of this happen…” He began strolling again.

“You know, when she worked in that bar in those damn short skirts, damn, I couldn´t help- How could´ve I known that she´d get pregnant. That damn whore!” You couldn’t help but stare at him and listen in shock.

“I didn´t want that bastard, so I had to put an end to it. She lost the child, after some very unsuspicious pills that I put in her food.” He shrugged as if was nothing. Tears started forming in your eyes, you couldn´t made out why. The pain, the fact that the killer was always right in front of you, that he killed an unborn child.

“That´s when she started planning her revenge, with her new found friends she wanted to make me pay, but those girls had nothing one me. So, I decided to have my fun with, and now, four bodies later, no one knows what actually happened.” He started devilishly grinning. “And now there will be a fifth body…”

Loki had found the napkin and after several tries to contact you, he had taken an armed squad to Johnsons house, but neither he nor you were to be found. There were no signs of the fight anymore, not even the car you had parked was there anymore. He knew the time was running now, he had to find you, alive. The sheriff sighed. “Loki, if it´s actually him, we have no actual, the files are gone and as long as we don´t find Y/n, we have nothing.”

“He has her! And he´ll kill her! If we don´t find her, she´ll be dead and Johnson will be gone!” He screamed and the entire squad flinched. The sheriff remained calm on the other hand. “But we don´t know where he is, he couldn´t be anywhere.” He didn´t yet fully trust Loki that it was Johnson. He had been working at the station for twenty years, he was a good officer, just a bit lazy and old-fashioned, right?

Loki started walking up and down, until his eyes caught the fishing rod. Johnson used to go fishing a lot in the summer, and he remembered that he said something a cabin, close to the lake. It was a perfect hideout.

All girls wanna be like that

Bad girls underneath like that

You know how I'm feeling inside

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout

There were many situations, where you had faced death. But this one was by far the scariest. You just wished and begged for Loki to find you. All you wanted was for him to storm through the damn door. “You know the amount of poison wasn´t enough, sadly. I hadn´t planned to kill you so soon, but that´s okay now. I´ll be gone soon anyway. Mexico, a nice little hut, a good life.”

You were tired, the feeling of the poison was still inside your system, bruises covered your body. There was probably some kind of broken rip, at least it felt like that. But then you heard something and tears started rolling down your cheeks, car tires on the rough ground.

You tried to scream, but the cloth prevented you from doing so, which didn´t stop you know. You tried everything to be as loud as possibly. Johnsons eyes widened. He took a shotgun from the wall and took a staircase up, leaving you alone. It was now or never. There was a table, with your patch, a few empty needles and other tools on it. You took all of your strength and started hoping into the direction of the table. Then shots were fired, it echoed as they came from both sides. But you didn´t stop. When you reached the table, you threw yourself at it with all you had. The table as well as the chair with you on it fell to the ground. Something in your body made a deep crack, when landing on your shoulder and you continued to groan in pain. But a fishing rod had falling off the wall, and landed above you, the hock dangling right for your fingers to grab it. It took several minutes until you were able to cut through the ropes. More shots had been fired on the meantime. Then they suddenly stopped.

“Stop”, it was Johnsons voice. “If you continue, I´ll kill her!”

It was his back up plan, and he knew that Loki would do anything to keep you alive.

But as the silence settled on the floor above you, you were able to completely free yourself and grab your gun. Your steps were weak, the poison still trying to kill you, but you had to get up the stairs. It was at the end of the hall, Johnson was barricaded on the terrace, you saw members of an armed unit outside. Then you saw a figure in the far stepping from the squad, his hands in the air. It was all so blurry and you felt dizzy, but you were sure that it was Loki. He had come.

“Ok, let her go!” You heard his voice, but you didn´t plan on letting Johnson get away.

You stumbled your last steps though the door and outside and fired a last shot at Johnson. Loki had his gun ready and fired two shots right after you. Johnson fell on the ground and several officers immediately approached him and unarmed him. But you barely noticed them, you just stumbled down the few steps of the terrace and collapsed. It was you luck that Loki had ran to you and caught you just in time.

“Y/n? Can you hear?” His voice was so far, and his close face was so blurry. You couldn´t answer and everything became dark…

All girls wanna be like that

Bad girls underneath like that

You know how I'm feeling inside

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout

You awoke in a hospital; the sun was shining through the curtains. Your eyes scanned the ceiling, then the rest of the environment. Light furniture, a tv hanging on the wall. Then to your left a small table with flowers on it. On a simple armchair was David, his eyes closed as well. You looked so peaceful and you smiled. Just then he opened his eyes as well and immediately stormed to your side. “Y/n! How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

You chuckled and even though, everything hurt, you nodded. “I´m fine.” Loki sighed relieved.

“You found me”, you continued and your voice sounded rough. “Yeah, you had left me a single hint. Johnson´s under arrest, all we need is your statement.” You smiled.

“You solved the case”, he added and you softly nodded. “It was really by accident.” “But you did, it´s all that matters and even without me.” “I couldn´t have done it without you.” He couldn´t help but smile as well.

Yeah, there's somethin' 'bout you boy

“There will be soon a new position for you offered now.” You should have been happy, but you just shook your head. “I won´t take it.” David´s brows furrowed. “Why?”

You smiled and grabbed his collar to pull him down. He didn´t resist and laid his lips on yours. The sound of the sheriff clearing his throat, interrupted your kiss.

“Agent Y/L/N, good to see you awake.” He nodded and Loki wanted to straighten up, but you took his hand and held him next to you. “Feels good as well.” You smiled; David blushed. The sheriff shrugged. “Take your time, get back on your feet, then we can talk. And you Loki”, he pointed at Loki with a serious face. “Take good care of her.”

“I will”.

#david loki #david loki imagine #detective loki imagine #detective loki #prisoners #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal #mariamermaidimagine

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villlainarc · 4 years

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From the Gutter to the Stars

Summary: Virgil’s night is going terribly, but dysphoria does that to you sometimes. It’s fine. He’s all alone and he’s tired and he wants to hide from the world and himself, but he’ll be fine.

(Virgil is not fine. At least, not until his friends pay him a visit at three in the morning and remind him that he will be.)

Pairings: Anxceitmus/DRLAMP/LAMP (written to be platonic, but can be read romantically if you so choose)

Warnings: dysphoric thoughts, self-loathing, one (1) swear word

Word Count: 1922

Notes: slightly late, but this is for @figurative-siren-song because he’s wonderful and deserves all the happiness in the world :D

_________________________

Virgil couldn’t sleep. Having to deal with your own thoughts did that to you sometimes, and he really didn’t appreciate that it did.

His night had started out perfectly fine, sure, but that was before he’d looked in the mirror and seen his face and everything that came with it. He’d sent a venomous look at his delicate nose and long lashes, his lips that were too full and too pink and not right, his waist that was too small, his hips that were too wide, and his hair that was becoming far, far too long for his taste, but each of those features had remained stubbornly on his body. And his chest— Virgil didn’t even want to think about his chest. He shuddered, wishing that his gaze had truly managed to poison every part of him that didn’t belong.

Drawing his knees to his chest, Virgil hid his head between them and squeezed his eyes shut as though that would stop him from being as awful and ugly as he was. It didn’t, of course, and the only thing it succeeded in doing was burning a too-vivid image of each of his flaws into the back of his eyelids. Virgil hugged his legs closer.

There was no comfort to be found alone in his room, but that was okay. Virgil had gotten through bouts of dysphoria like this before, and he’d been alone then just as he was now. This too would pass, and he would be fine.

That didn’t make thinking any less nausea-inducing, but the empty comfort did remind him to breathe just a bit more slowly.

Then he was restless again, his mind moving too fast, too fast, too fast and he needed to do something. Normally, Virgil would blast music and block out his thoughts for a little while, but it was past three in the morning. He doubted anyone would appreciate being woken up, and he knew from experience that headphones would only make him feel more trapped in a body that he refused to think of as his own.

So Virgil was left with nothing but his empty room, utterly alone and pacing across a floor alight with beams of moonlight that had managed to slip through a crack in his curtains, his mind alight with the spark of thoughts he wanted—needed—to get rid of.

He’d only been pacing a few minutes when Virgil begrudgingly admitted to himself that it was doing nothing.

He needed to do something else, something that would distract him from the fact that he was too short, his hands and fingers to lithe and small, his—

Virgil took a breath. What he needed to do was breathe.

His friends. The other sides. Logan, Roman, Patton—any one of them or all three. They could help him, he was sure of it. All he had to do was ask. All he had to do was knock on one of their doors. All he had to do was admit out loud that he wasn’t created right and be vulnerable and become even more of a burden than he currently was.

That was going to be a hard pass on his part, now that he thought about it.

Deceit and Remus wouldn’t need any sort of explanation though, and he’d grown up with them. If anyone could help, it would be them.

It really was too bad, then, that he’d abandoned them.

So no, he definitely was not dealing with that.

Coping mechanisms, then. Those should help, right? Right.

Music was already out, and so was pacing. Journaling would only make him more aware of thoughts he was desperate to ignore, and so would meditation and grounding exercises.

Coloring might help distract him for a while, he thought. At least, he thought that until he remembered that coloring was an activity done by little girls and he was not a little girl.

Then coloring was out too, apparently. He could add another patch to his hoodie? But that would mean taking it off, and he really couldn’t do that right now.

Fidget cube? No, that would do about as much as the pacing had—meaning it would do absolutely nothing.

He could put on his binder, but his chest already felt too tight and he could barely breathe as it was.

He could…

Virgil didn’t know what he could do. He sat back down on his bed and curled in on himself, defeated by his own mind.

A small voice chose that moment to pipe up that his friends would really be helpful right now, but Virgil shoved it back down. Nope. He wouldn’t bother his new friends and risk ruining those fragile relationships forever, and he couldn’t face his old ones. Instead, he would stay locked in the silence of his room and trapped at the same time in the deafening noise of his mind.

Well. At least, he would after he got a drink of water. It was the least he could do for this wretched body of his he supposed, and besides—he could try to sleep once more after that. The glass of water might even help him in that regard.

Quietly, Virgil padded across the floor to his door, opening it just a crack to check that he was alone in his wakefulness. Satisfied by the empty space that greeted him, he opened it the rest of the way and made his way to the kitchen, guided by the dim light of the refrigerator.

As he was reaching up to grab a glass from a cabinet, Virgil heard a noise. Startled, he pulled his hand back to his chest and spun around, wide eyes searching for any and every possible source of it. He squinted out at the dark void ahead of him. “Hello?”

When no response came after a few seconds, Virgil turned back to the cabinet with a slightly confused frown lingering on his face. He shook his head, concluding that he’d simply been hearing things. This time when he reached for a glass, he was able to put it on the counter before there was another noise.

Spinning around again, Virgil mused to himself that it had sounded like— no. It probably wasn’t, so he wouldn’t get his hopes up. Still seeing nothing, he took the glass from where he’d set it down, walking over to the fridge to fill it up.

“Boo.”

It took everything in Virgil not to let out an earsplitting shriek and deck the person who had snuck up behind him square in the face. He had just enough self-control to avoid doing that though, so instead, both his hands shot to cover his mouth as the glass he’d been holding fell to the floor, forgotten in his panic.

As though in slow motion a hand shot out to catch it a split second before it shattered on the tile. The owner of the hand let out a sigh. “I did say not to scare him, didn’t I?”

“And I said it would be fine, didn’t I?”

“And you were wrong, as per usual. Just as I’d said you would be.”

“Oh, come on, DeeDee! Nothing’s broken, right?”

“No thanks to you.”

Before either of them could say anything else, Virgil hissed out, “Hi, so sorry to interrupt this absolutely vital conversation, but why the fuck are you here?”

“Are we not allowed to visit our friend when his half-hearted lies and intrusive, dysphoric thoughts are so tangible that we know he’s not doing well?” Remus pouted.

Virgil blinked. “Your what now?”

“Friend,” Deceit repeated for him, sounding every inch the exhausted mom they were. “We were far too close to let a little disagreement like that get in the way of anything. Now, surely you didn’t think that just because you abandoned us unceremoniously we weren’t friends anymore, did you?”

“…No, that was exactly what I thought, and for a good reason! I didn’t even say goodbye when I left, I had no reason to think we were still…” Virgil made a vague gesture with his hands. “You know.”

“Friends?” Remus asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah. That.”

“Come now, Virgil. We were family, and family doesn’t abandon family. Especially not when they’re at their lowest and most alone.”

“Yeah, but I abandoned you.”

“Yeah, and we forgive you. But you were gonna say sorry soon, weren’t you?”

“Remus, for once could you not—”

“No, he’s right. I— I am sorry. I don’t know why I just— left like that. There’s no excuse for that, and I guess I wanted to—”

“Shh, darling. We don’t need an explanation right now. We’re here for you anyway, aren’t we, Remus?”

“Yep! I’ve got the best Buzzfeed Unsolved episodes ready for us back in my room, and there are snacks, and—”

“Actually, can we just… stay here for now?”

“Absolutely, dear.”

“Mhm, agreed. Besides, I see a couch that looks absolutely perfect for cuddles, so I think that’s exactly what we should do.”

Virgil gives a shaky smile. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

With that permission given, Remus promptly picked up Virgil bridal style and collapsed backward into the couch with a laugh, motioning for Deceit to join them. They did so, settling themself down primly next to Remus and watching their two friends fondly.

Then Remus dragged them into the impromptu cuddle pile and, dignity having been ripped violently from their grasp, Deceit allowed themself to relax into it. They did try to fight it, slithering upright a little bit more, but then they rested their head on Remus’s shoulder and took Virgil’s hand into theirs, so it was safe to say that their dignity truly was long gone. “Do you want to talk to us about anything?” they asked, running a thumb comfortingly over the back of Virgil’s hand.

“Not right now. I think I’m just going to—” Virgil paused to yawn, “—try and sleep for now. Thank you guys though, really.”

“We’ll still be here in the morning, Virgey. We aren’t going anywhere.”

And they didn’t, holding Virgil close to their chests until morning dawned, remaining on the couch even after Patton stopped short at the scene in front of him, even after Logan brought over one steaming cup of coffee for each of them, even after Roman almost woke Virgil with the loud announcement of his arrival, even after all three of them had joined Remus and Deceit in the living room with Virgil. They would all wait there until he woke up, and then they would assure him that they could and would be there for him at any hour of the day if need be. They’d remind him of his broad shoulders and strong jaw, his muscled arms and his voice that was growing lower by the day. They’d remind him that no matter what he thought and no matter how much his body didn’t feel like his own, he was handsome inside and out. They would tell Virgil how much they loved him, and how they were so glad that he was who he was, flaws and all.

And Virgil would smile, blissfully content with who he was.

For now though, they let him sleep. He was smiling there, all wrapped up in Remus’s arms with his head resting on Deceit’s shoulder, and no one was going to do anything to wreck that peaceful smile of his.

Besides, they all loved him—his new family and his old—so they would always wait for however long it took to tell him so.

_________________________

find other stuff i’ve written under #writings from the stars

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basicsofislam · 4 years

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ISLAM 101: 5 Pillars of Islam: Fasting: Virtues of Fasting: WHAT ARE THE SPIRITUAL BENEFITS OF FASTING? Part 2

d. Fasting teaches a person how to economize

Fasting teaches people how to economize, a form of behavior that is recommended in Islam. During Ramadan, fasting takes on the role of a teacher who instructs us on how to economize. People who are accustomed to buying whatever they want without thinking too much will learn to be thrifty and careful. No matter how thirsty or hungry they are, they have to wait until sunset before eating or drinking something. The pleasure the believer obtains at the time of breaking the fast becomes greater than the pleasure the glutton obtains from overeating, as this is accompanied by a weariness and lack of ap petite resulting from such excesses. Through fasting believers are taught to economize, and their frugality leads to contentment.

e. Fasting exalts the soul

The body, as well as the soul, has some needs and desires. The physical body of a human is comparatively small, but the soul is infinite. The countless tendencies, desires, feelings, dreams, thoughts, and ideas of humanity are like an index of the universe.

Therefore, nothing but worship, the greatest and the most sublime way of reaching Allah, can advance and improve the soul and faculties of such a being, fulfill their tendencies and desires, broaden and arrange their ideas, control their powers pertaining to lust and anger, allow them to reach their preordained perfection and bind them to Allah the Almigthy. Fasting, which is an act of worship, comprises all these characteristics. The Messenger of Allah says: “There are alms for everything. Observing the fast is the alms for the body and observing the fast is half of patience.”8 Daily Prayer is the main pillar of religion, fasting is the main pillar of the soul, while the prescribed alms is the main pillar of the community. That is, a religion without Daily Prayers, a soul that does not fast, and a community that does not contribute to charity cannot stand upright. In the same way that food nourishes the body, fasting nourishes the soul. It is as difficult to lead a religious life without fasting as it is to live without eating.

Therefore, although it changes in form and duration, fasting has been accepted as an important fundamental of all religions; the main aim of religious fasting is to purify the soul. Moreover, Prophets, who are guides for the purification and perfection of the soul, observed fasting during the preparation phase of their difficult missions. While fasting and worshipping during the month of Ramadan in the Hira cave on top of a mountain in solitude, Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, was called to Prophethood at the age of forty. The Bible mentions that Jesus fasted for forty days in the desert before starting his ministry. Similarly, Moses received the Ten Commandments after fasting for forty days. This is another proof of the fact that fasting is an influential factor in the maturation and purification of human beings.

To conclude, the soul is purified and refined through fasting. Those who want to improve their spiritual faculties should observe the fast. In other words, those who do not fast become captives of their body and cannot renew and excel their soul.

f. Fasting controls worldly desires

People need to restrain the endless desires of their carnal soul, for the desires and habits of the carnal soul are like lethal poison or forces that push them to degrade themselves. The carnal soul continuously commands human beings to commit sins. According to a Qur’anic decree Prophet Joseph describes the carnal soul in the most eloquent way:

(which means: “Nor do I absolve my own self of blame: the human soul is certainly prone to evil, unless my Lord does bestow His Mercy: but surely my Lord is All-Forgiving, Most Merciful” [Yusuf 12:53].)

It is very difficult to satisfy the carnal soul; the more you give the more it demands. the Noble Messenger used to supplicate: “O Allah, I seek refuge in You from incapacity, from sloth, from cowardice, from miserliness, decrepitude and from the torment of the grave. O Allah, grant to my soul a sense of righteousness and purify it, for You are the Best Purifier. You are the soul’s Protecting Friend and Guardian. O Allah, I seek refuge in You from the knowledge which does not benefit, from the heart that does not have the fear of Allah, from the soul that does not feel contented and the supplication that is not responded.”9 In another tradition he seeks refuge in Allah from evils, troubles, and atrocities of the soul.10

Fasting is also like armor against fornication, a sin that endangers family life. The Noble Messenger advises those who do not have the economic means to marry to observe the fast in order to avoid sins. Actually, fasting is an effective means of taking the carnal soul under control. Therefore, fasting, which is obligatory in many religions and accepted as a practical means demonstrating one’s fear of and respect for Allah (taqwa), was established as one of the pillars of Islam. Allah says in the Qur’an: (which means: “O you who believe! Prescribed for you is the Fast, as it was prescribed for those before you, so that you may deserve Allah’s protection against the temptations of your carnal soul and attain piety” [al-Baqarah 2:183].)

Fasting is the reins and bit that restrain the carnal self. It hinders human beings from becoming pharaohs. It is reported that the Prophet said: “Allah inflicted certain sort of punishments upon the carnal self. First He put the carnal self in the fire and asked: ‘Who are you, who am I?’ The carnal self said: ‘You are you, I am me.’ Then Allah restrained the self with hunger and asked again: ‘Who are you, who am I?’ The final answer of the self was: ‘You are the Owner of the worlds and I am one of Your humble servants.’”

Finally, human beings can prevent their souls from being rebellious to the Almighty Allah and train them to become an obedient servant by fasting. People who observe the fast become aware that during the fast their soul is as pure as that of the angels. When fasting they are able to understand that they cannot do anything unless they are so permitted, that they cannot have even a sip of water without the permission of Allah and thus they perceive that they are not the owner but rather the owned and they are not the master but the servant. In the end, they become aware of their endless weakness, destitution, and deficiencies, and thus prepare to knock at the door of the All-Merciful and the All- Compassionate in a grateful manner.

Part 1:

https://basicsofislam.tumblr.com/post/628395660875612161/islam-1015-pillars-of-islam-fasting-virtues-of

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mrlnsfrt · 4 years

Text

Mental Health, Music, and the Bible

So here we are, 1 Samuel 16:14-23. To be honest I spent a week wavering, unsure if I would tackle this portion of 1 Samuel or just skip over it and hope no one noticed. This is a very challenging portion of scripture and many of the resources I usually use did not address the questions the text brought up in my mind. But as I woke up today and set down to write the post I felt compelled to write on it and also I was able to find one recourse that really helped me gain a better understanding of some of the issues taking place in this narrative. So let’s follow the story and deal with these issues as they come up.

In my last post, Heart Matter, we witnessed the anointing of David as the next king of Israel. Along with the anointing, David also received the spirit of the LORD (1 Samuel 16:13). In this post we follow the progression of events and discover that the spirit of the LORD has departed from Saul.

Choices and Consequences

Saul has been making a series of bad choices.

First, he offered a sacrifice instead of waiting for Samuel as God commanded. (more info at Obedience During Emergencies)

And Samuel said to Saul, “You have done foolishly. You have not kept the commandment of the Lord your God, which He commanded you. For now the Lord would have established your kingdom over Israel forever. But now your kingdom shall not continue. The Lord has sought for Himself a man after His own heart, and the Lord has commanded him to be commander over His people, because you have not kept what the Lord commanded you.” - 1 Samuel 13:13-14 NKJV

Second, Saul made a rash vow and was willing to kill his own son. (more info at Abuse and Misuse of Religion)

Then Saul said to Jonathan, “Tell me what you have done.”

And Jonathan told him, and said, “I only tasted a little honey with the end of the rod that was in my hand. So now I must die!”

Saul answered, “God do so and more also; for you shall surely die, Jonathan.”

But the people said to Saul, “Shall Jonathan die, who has accomplished this great deliverance in Israel? Certainly not! As the Lord lives, not one hair of his head shall fall to the ground, for he has worked with God this day.” So the people rescued Jonathan, and he did not die. - 1 Samuel 14:43-45 NKJV

Finally, God told Saul to completely destroy the Amalekites but Saul spared king Agag and the army took spoils from their defeated enemies. (more info at Mostly Obedient)

Now the Lord sent you on a mission, and said, ‘Go, and utterly destroy the sinners, the Amalekites, and fight against them until they are consumed.’ Why then did you not obey the voice of the Lord? Why did you swoop down on the spoil, and do evil in the sight of the Lord?” - 1 Samuel 15:18-19 NKJV

We must keep these events in mind as we look at Saul in 1 Samuel 16. I would like to highlight that the problem is not so much the poor choices that Saul made, but rather his lack of repentance. We do not see Saul humbling himself and seeking God.

Saul had said, “I have sinned,” but he never repented. No doubt he regretted the consequences that flowed from his preference of self to the will of God; but he still loved to have his own way. The spirit that prompted to set aside God’s command for his own choice was unchanged. It in itself was a state of war; but still it was restive, unsubdued; it chafed under restraint and conviction of rejection, and sometimes would break out in fury that its preferences should thus be chastised. “As a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke.” It is this element of cherished sin, this persistent continuance in the original state of mind that contracted guilt, which poisons the entire life. It sets the whole man at war with God, and renders irksome what to a penitent, lowly heart would be meekly borne. Truly when men sin, and “will have it so” they are so far left to themselves as to work out in their life all manner of miseries.

- Spence-Jones, H. D. M. (Ed.). (1909). 1 Samuel (p. 304). London; New York: Funk & Wagnalls Company.

This would be similar to you being completely aware of a sin in your life, but instead of humbling yourself before God and begging His forgiveness, you feel angry at God for making such a big deal out of such a small sin. You’re not sorry about your behavior, you don’t think it’s that bad if bad at all. You’re upset about the consequences that accompany your poor behavior. You’re upset that you can’t just be happy with your choices, but you have no desire to turn to God. You refuse to humbly come to God, even though you’re fully aware of His coming judgment and that you are living your life outside of His will.

Transition

A transition has been coming for a while and now becomes more clear. From this point forward the story is more about David than Saul. Saul is still king, but the story is now about how David became king. In the first 13 verses of 1 Samuel 16, we witness the anointing of David, and now we witness the Spirit of the LORD departing from Saul.

But the Spirit of the Lord departed from Saul, and a distressing spirit from the Lord troubled him. - 1 Samuel 16:14 NKJV

God caused it?

This is a troubling passage. At first glance, it gives the impression of Saul being the victim of God’s bullying. It is challenging to read a text translated from a different language, especially if it was written a long time ago, in a very different place, with a very different culture. The more we read the Old Testament the more we become acquainted with the ancient Hebrew way of thinking. When you consider that God is ultimately in charge than in a way everything that happens had to be allowed by Him. I don’t wish to pursue this too far for it will distract from the main point of this passage but I do want to give you an idea of the Hebrew way of thinking. The story of Job is probably one of the best places to illustrate this point.

There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job; and that man was blameless and upright, and one who feared God and shunned evil. -Job 1:1

I will super summarize the story and if you’re not familiar I would recommend reading at least the first two and last two chapters of Job. Job is faithful to God and Satan questions Job’s love and devotion to God. God gives Satan permission to cause Job to suffer.

9 So Satan answered the Lord and said, “Does Job fear God for nothing? 10 Have You not made a hedge around him, around his household, and around all that he has on every side? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land. 11 But now, stretch out Your hand and touch all that he has, and he will surely curse You to Your face!”

12 And the Lord said to Satan, “Behold, all that he has is in your power; only do not lay a hand on his person.”

So Satan went out from the presence of the Lord. -Job 1:9-12 NKJV

So Satan goes off and causes all kinds of destruction and calamities to come upon all that Job possesses. Yet God receives blame for what He allowed Satan to do.

While he was still speaking, another also came and said, “The fire of God fell from heaven and burned up the sheep and the servants, and consumed them; and I alone have escaped to tell you!” - Job 1:16 NKJB (bold mine)

It looks like God sent fire to destroy Job’s sheep and servants. But we know this was Satan’s fault and not God’s. At the same time, Satan could not touch anything that belonged to Job without God’s permission. Are you beginning to see how it is and isn’t God’s fault?

In chapter Job chapter 6 we witness Job’s suffering from his perspective.

For the arrows of the Almighty are within me; My spirit drinks in their poison; The terrors of God are arrayed against me. - Job 6:4 NKJV (bold mine)

God loves Job, God is not shooting arrows at him, God has not arrayed any terrors against Job. But God gave permission to Satan to do it. Satan delights in causing suffering, he is the enemy Jesus refers to in Matthew 13:28.

The point is that the departure of the Spirit of the LORD allowed for a distressing spirit to come upon Saul. Did God actively send it, or is it described this way because God allowed it by removing His spirit from Saul? Both are possible, my personal preference is that God removed His spirit and Satan jumped at the opportunity to torment the king of Israel.

Mental Health

There are well-meaning Christians who believe that all mental illness is in essence a distressing spirit sent by God or some form of demon possession that can be cured with a stronger devotional life. I have yet to be convinced of this. I believe that prayer helps in all situations. I also believe that God has gifted people in ways that they help others heal. I believe that there are people gifted with the ability to help others heal emotionally and psychologically. I believe that God gives doctors and nurses and others wisdom to help heal the body and counselors, psychologists, and psychiatrists the ability to heal the mind and emotions.

We have people in the Bible who love God and yet suffer from emotionally.

The sons of Korah seem to be struggling with depression and anxiety when they penned the words to Psalm 42.

Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him For the help of His countenance. -Psalm 42:5 NKJV

Jesus also experiences trouble in His soul.

“Now My soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save Me from this hour’? But for this purpose I came to this hour. - John12:27 NKJV

Interestingly both the author of Psalm 42 and Jesus were emotionally intelligent enough to recognize what was happening. The author of Psalm 42 recognizes he is feeling down and disquieted. Things are not going well, he is struggling and feels like God is distant. He knows that he needs to trust in God, he knows that God will save him, even though right now he feels down. You should read the whole Psalm, you can feel the struggle in the words. This man knew God, believed in God, yet his soul was cast down and disquieted.

Similarly, as Jesus approached His death, his soul was troubled, John 12:27. Matthew records the following.

Then He said to them, “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here and watch with Me.” -Matthew 26:38 NKJV

Jesus recognized that He was not well. His soul was exceedingly sorrowful. So Jesus sought the help of His closest friends. He did not want to be alone.

These examples are of people who had not rejected the LORD, were not living in rebellion against God, and still struggled in their innermost being with feeling down. They were aware of their feelings, they understood why they were feeling that way and that God was in control, they had faith, yet they still struggled. When you struggle with feeling down, abandoned, like there is so much sorrow in your life that it might just kill you, Jesus knows what that is like. The inspired writers of the Bible experienced emotional struggles and perhaps would have been diagnosed with depression and anxiety. They sought help, and their faith helped in the battle. I know of pastors who struggle with depression, with anxiety, Godly man and women who need medication due to hormonal imbalances.

There is still so much that we don’t understand about mental health. But in the Bible, even prophets struggle emotionally, sometimes even asking God to kill them.

But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he prayed that he might die, and said, “It is enough! Now, Lord, take my life, for I am no better than my fathers!” 1 Kings 19:4 NKJV

That was Elijah, the prophet who never had the opportunity to die! Talk about unanswered prayers. I have a series on Elijah and part 4, The Depressed Prophet is probably my most read blog of all times. Struggling with mental health is not necessarily a sign of rejecting God. But imagine struggling and not having the assurance that God is in control, that God is loving and merciful, everything will be okay in the end. Do you think that helps or do you think it would make it more difficult?

Saul needs help

Saul’s servants notice that he needs help.

And Saul’s servants said to him, “Surely, a distressing spirit from God is troubling you. Let our master now command your servants, who are before you, to seek out a man who is a skillful player on the harp. And it shall be that he will play it with his hand when the distressing spirit from God is upon you, and you shall be well.” - 1 Samuel 16:15-16 NKJV

Saul’s servants recommend music therapy. If you have ever listened to music you know that music has a special influence on our emotions. Music works in mysterious ways that seem magical. We still have much to learn regarding music, its power, and influence. With that said, we should also be careful with anyone who believes she has it all figured out. I really have to control myself here because I have strong opinions on music and have been involved with it my whole life. But let’s stick to the text we are studying. If Saul is struggling with fits of rage, anxiety, depression, paranoia, etc. (I won’t cite every occurrence for the sake of time but as you read about Saul’s life form this point on you see examples of these.) It makes sense that music would be helpful. Soothing music definitely helps calm the nerves.

Talent Search

And now we witness the birth of Israel’s Got Talent!

So Saul said to his servants, “Provide me now a man who can play well, and bring him to me.” 1 Samuel 16:17 NKJV

As Saul’s servants get busy with auditions and the setting up of the stage and the sale of tickets one of the talent scouts finds David!

Then one of the servants answered and said, “Look, I have seen a son of Jesse the Bethlehemite, who is skillful in playing, a mighty man of valor, a man of war, prudent in speech, and a handsome person; and the Lord is with him.” 1 Samuel 16:18 NKJV

This description is troubling. How much time has gone by since the anointing of David? How old is David? Let’s take a closer look at the text. The word translated as “servant” is נַעַר (naʿar) which can also be an indicator of age meaning this could have been a young man. Why is this significant? Because a boy’s definition of a mighty man of valor is different from that of an adult. Imagine this boy knows David for a few years and witnessed or heard about David bravely fighting off bears and lions? Would this cause this boy to see David as a mighty man of valor? Or imagine David has sent a few would-be sheep thieves away wounded and scared. Maybe this would cause the local children to view him as a warrior while he had never really fought in a war or been a part of a formal army.

Another possibility is that the main point of this story is to transition from Saul to David. This would allow for this story to not be necessarily placed in chronological order but rather thematically. Therefore David is being described as the man that the audience knows him to be, the greatest king Israel ever had. So the narrator would be attributing to David all his qualities and contrasting him with Saul, even if all these qualities have not yet been demonstrated in the sequence of stories as they are being told.

David is a hero, a musician, and most importantly the LORD is with Him, and not with Saul. Saul had been a great man, now he needs the help of David who will ultimately surpass Saul because the LORD was with David.

Saul meets David

King Saul is so impressed with David’s resumé he cancels the talent show, which is really too bad since he never had the chance to listen to the bagpipe player.

Therefore Saul sent messengers to Jesse, and said, “Send me your son David, who is with the sheep.” 20 And Jesse took a donkey loaded with bread, a skin of wine, and a young goat, and sent them by his son David to Saul. 21 So David came to Saul and stood before him. And he loved him greatly, and he became his armorbearer. 22 Then Saul sent to Jesse, saying, “Please let David stand before me, for he has found favor in my sight.” 23 And so it was, whenever the spirit from God was upon Saul, that David would take a harp and play it with his hand. Then Saul would become refreshed and well, and the distressing spirit would depart from him.

- 1 Samuel 16:19-23 NKJV

Once again this verse is troubling. In the next chapter we have Saul not knowing who David is and I wonder again if this is not just a summarized account of how David began to learn about what life was like in the palace and in a sense began the new phase of the preparations to become king. God had provided a way for Saul to train David without Saul knowing that David would be the new king. If Saul had been humble and willing to obey God, perhaps he and David could have been best friends and enjoyed each other’s presence and God’s blessings. But sadly Saul was not interested in following God’s will.

Saul’s Rebellion

I wish to highlight a point I don’t want anyone to miss. Saul was rejected not because he made mistakes but rather because he refused to repent. Saul was not interested in following the will of God and this is why the spirit of the LORD left him. Saul was aware of this and this contributed greatly to his mental breakdown.

Guilty men, who will not sincerely repent and seek rest in Christ, know that judgment is coming, but they take care to hide that truth from others, and often bear a terrible strain on their spirits. - Spence-Jones, H. D. M. (Ed.). (1909). 1 Samuel (p. 304). London; New York: Funk & Wagnalls Company.

The music David played provided a diversion that soothed Saul’s nervous system. However, as we will find out as we continue to read the story, it did not cure Saul. Try to imagine the subduing influence David’s music had on the restless Saul as David poured forth to his harp strains of love and trust and hope in God! But as in all cases of mere diversion, the benefit was transitory. The underlying problem remained. The old fears would eventually come back in force. Saul had not sought the true remedy.

There is a lesson here for all of us. We must stop trying to seek rest and peace apart from God’s loving embrace. You can come to church, listen to Christian music, and find temporary peace and relief, but unless you make Jesus you LORD and Savior, the effects will only be temporary. As long as you continue to embrace a known sin you will not experience the peace the surpasses all understanding, even if you have a personal harp player.

This passage is not about the instrument or the type of music that David played, but rather about David’s relationship with God. Since the spirit of the LORD was with David and David made choices that were in harmony with God’s will, God blessed him and his music and everything he did. If this passage was about the type of music David played we would have been given more details on how to cast out demons through music. But all we have from David’s music is the words. If this passage and others that mention David playing had been descriptive than every church would need to have a harp to help with exorcism along with careful instructions regarding the chords and strum pattern and rhythm.

Call to action

There is one main thing that I want you to take away from this study, and that is your need for a deeper relationship with God. A relationship that clings to God when your soul is troubled, distressed, and downcast. A relationship that submits to the will of God even when it not your will (Luke 22:42). A faith that refuses to let go of God even if you feel like He is causing your suffering. A relationship where you know God as your personal Savior and not just the God of your parents, or spouse, or friend.

Do not hold on to sins that you know are keeping you from God. Turn to God, humble yourself, accept His will, and receive His salvation.

This will not make life easy, but it will guarantee your victory.

#Mental health #Music #Old Testament #Narrative #David

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lainelannister · 5 years

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I have been off Tumblr for a few days and now I have SO MUCH LAINE FIC TO CATCH UP ON, WHICH IS JUST SO EXCITING!! Okay so HERE ARE MY PROMPTS, choose whichever strikes your fancy! Crazy enough, they're both show-verse: 1) Some sort of encounter between Jaime, Cersei, and Sansa after Jaime rides back south to Cersei, or 2) Jaime and Cersei escape the sack of King's Landing :D

Title: Binding with briars my joys and desires

Author: lainelannister

Ship(s): Jaime/Cersei

Rating: M

Trigger Warning(s): None

Brief Summary: The one-time Queen of the Seven Kingdoms flees to the Free Cities with her twin, to live the unencumbered life Jaime always wanted.

Notes: The title of this story comes from “The Garden of Love’ by William Blake.

When she gives herself the space and permission to recall her early childhood, Cersei Lannister remembers nothing so keenly as the fragrance of the Sunset Sea. The salt wove through the air, infusing the gentle breezes with brine, carrying the sensation of freedom, of exploration, of possibility.

But the heavy stench of rotting fish and water-sodden waste, the thick, adhesive humidity, the queasiness and the nausea she experiences now- none of this feels familiar.

The one-time Queen of the Seven Kingdoms curls her knees into her chest, silently cursing the abrasive straw-tack pallet for rubbing a violent crimson rash into her formerly smooth and alabaster skin. They’re stowed in the brig of a trading dinghy, heading east…to Braavos or Pentos or Myr…some godsforsaken place where their pasts carry no weight, where the Lannister name holds no significance.

The boat jerks with every swell and release of the tide, and she’s sure she’ll be sick again- between the erratic motion of this miserable vessel and the child growing in her womb, she’s constantly at the mercy of some discomfort or another.

But Jaime wraps his arms around her waist and gathers her close, his whiskers tickling the back of her neck as he brushes soft kisses up and down the nape- his breathing feels even, rhythmic, contented…envy seizes her gut, but she forces it aside for the time being, pressing her back flush against Jaime’s chest and willing her inhales and exhales to match his in perfect time.

They exit the boat on a hot and dusty pier overlooking a bustling marketplace. The sun glares down vindictively, and she’s sure that she’ll soon find ugly blotches of scarlet staining her cheeks and neck and collarbone. The thought unnerves her, and she feels her lips twist into a sullen scowl.

But her brother clearly doesn’t share her disdain for this new environment. He breezes through the market with a levity she hasn’t seen since his youthful tourney days, his posture erect and his eyes radiant. He’s invigorated, alive- free.

And although she’d love to share his enthusiasm, to revel in the potential of this unencumbered new life, she still recoils when he leads her to a jewelry broker and asks her to hand over the baubles she carried overseas. They’ll need coin, he explains- they need to buy a house and set themselves up in a comfortable manner. Reluctantly, she slips off her diamond pendant and ruby rings and onyx bangles and gold hair combs-

(Jaime removes his gold hand and sells the piece without hesitation, and she tries and fails to quash her own irritation at the sight of his smooth, unconcealed stump.)

At the last, Jaime asks her to hand over the final ring in her collection, the priceless golden lion that had once belonged to their mother. The merchant seems especially keen to get his grubby hands on this piece- “It’s worth more than the rest combined,” he insists.

Hot tears sear Cersei’s eyes as she forces the lion ring over her swollen knuckles and drops it in Jaime’s palm. He discusses pricing with the merchant, and she finds that she cannot be privy to the conversation- she slips away and braces her back against a nearby stucco wall, deriving some small satisfaction from the scrape of plaster on her skin as she slides down, down, down.

They find a small sandstone villa just steps from the water, with lemon trees in the front courtyard and a small stable to house the ponies Jaime purchases for them. The master bedchamber overlooks a green lawn, vertiginous palms, a crystalline blue sky-

“Finally,” Jaime sighs as she rides him, using his left hand to guide her hips in a circular pattern as he tucks his stump beneath a pillow.

He’s blissful, beautiful, drawing her down to his mouth and smiling beatifically against her lips-

His gaze remains fully riveted to her face, to her body- but she can’t help but allow her peripheral vision to wander the room, taking stock of its plainness, the lack of refinement, the surfeit of valuable possessions-

Simple. Uncomplicated.

Empty.

Dark, dense blood drowns her flimsy smallclothes, and she crumbles on the floor of the privy chamber, horror, confusion, and shame colliding in her mind, fighting for dominance.

My baby is gone. Another lost child, another demolished dream-

(And in the crevices of her own conscience, she’s forced to wonder whether this unborn Lannister ever truly existed at all, whether she’d merely willed him into being, whether the swelling of her belly and the early-morning queasiness were a mere construct of her imagination, a desperate manifestation-)

She shares the news with Jaime when he returns from the fishing piers, and he immediately sweeps her into his arms, stroking her hair with his good hand, using his lips to clear away the tears staining her cheekbones and under-eyes.

“There will be others, Cersei. We can have other children…we can do anything we want here.”

He thinks he’s consoling her…but as she observes her brother’s face, she wonders whether he understands the implications of the wrinkles creasing both their brows, the grey streaking through both their hair.

Of course, he’s a man, and it’s all different for men. He could take a young wife tomorrow and have a passel of children with her, and none would question it for a moment…

Four children dead. Four children torn from this earth, torn from their destinies…and she’s no longer young, and there’s so little time-

She doesn’t realize that she’s angling her body as far from Jaime’s as possible until she catches a glimpse of her reflection in his pained and shadowed eyes.

News from Westeros creeps in bit by bit, morsel by morsel. She gathers what she can from the marketplace- the Dragon Queen dead, Rhaegar Targaryen’s boy exiled, a Stark monarch in King’s Landing and another in the North, her dastardly dwarf brother still wearing the Hand’s badge-

She needs a long walk by the water to parse through this information, to digest her own disappointment.

And what have I to claim? No kingdom, no leadership, no goals, no pursuits…

Nothing but Jaime.

And for the first time, she allows herself to truly acknowledge what she’s known for years, possibly forever-

He simply isn’t enough.

She acquires the tiny and deadly vial from a peculiar shop wedged at the end of a dim alleyway. It’s a suspicious locale, perfectly designed for its purpose, and she takes no small amount of satisfaction from the fact that the liquid she purchases there comes in a rich and vibrant red- blood red, Lannister red.

When she returns to the villa, she pours two glasses of chilled Dornish wine. Jaime doesn’t care for the beverage, but he’ll never refuse it, not when she makes the offer.

She tilts the small bottle into the goblets and smiles when the crimson poison and the crimson wine meld together in flawless unity. A quick swirl of her glass and a deep inhale- there’s no unusual odor, nothing to arouse suspicion.

Her twin reclines on a settee on the grounds behind the villa, the sun radiating off of the golden planes of his bare chest. He’s peaceful, relaxed, softly smiling…and his smile grows wider when he hears her approach, when she brushes the fingers of his left hand with the fingers of her right as she gives him the goblet.

She slides her body onto the settee and cushions her head in the curve between his neck and shoulder. He scatters kisses on the crown of her head, on her brow, on her eyelids-

She takes a long drink from her goblet. There’s a sweetness to the poison, and as it coats her tongue, she watches her brother tilt his own glass toward his lips.

Scarlet wine, golden hair, scarlet mouths, golden skin-

It could only ever end this way- we could only ever end this way.

#starkfish #my fics #jaime x cersei #700 followers meme #this is really really long #oh well #alternate universe

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annjushkasophia · 6 years

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For the angst, how about Newtina and “This isn’t goodbye.” :D

I’m so terribly sorry that it’s taken so long, but here it is! I hope it suffices. Funnily enough, this was written well before the avalanche of latest news, yet I think it could fit into FBCOG somehow. Enjoy! :)

This isn’t goodbye (Newtina)

Jacob and Queenie steal away once their final meeting with Dumbledore is complete, choosing to spend a few stolen moments away from it all, and Newt and Tina are left to their own devices. Tina feels at home in this city after just a few short weeks, the Seine’s murky stench as familiar as the freshly brewed coffee she can still smell every time she closes her eyes, yet it all feels different somehow, her senses alight and tuned to the silent wizard by his side. Words aren’t necessary to understand the weighty silence and exhausted glances they steal at each other.

Tina follows his familiar set of coattails to a dark basement establishment not unlike the speakeasy they’d visited in New York, feeling the need for a stiff drink following the past few days they’ve had. It’s nearly empty at this time of night, air rid with stale ale and illegal dealings, but neither of them has the energy to care. They each pick their poison and the table between them steadily fills with empty glasses as the night turns into day.

Tina studies him across the table, surreptitiously glancing at him from the corner of her eye. He seems deep in thought, running a finger along the rim of his glass as he stares off into the middle distance. His voice breaks the silence like a glass shattering on the floor, loud and unexpected. “When are you leaving?”

She jumps at his voice and rolls her lips, trying and failing to find a way to take the sting out of her words. Regret weighs heavily on her shoulders, yet there’s nothing to be done about it. Distance and misunderstandings had kept them apart, even once they were breathing the same air. Now, it’s too late. “Tomorrow.” Tina meets his eye. “We got our orders this afternoon.”

She watches his throat work as he swallows thickly and averts his eyes to study the wood grain of the table instead. Tina tries not to be hurt by this, yet she knows exactly what he is feeling, for she shares the sentiment. The feeling grows as she takes in the glassy sheen of his eyes and the way his lips press into a thin, desperate line as he fights for control.

Tina should be looking forward to returning home, return to New York to follow old routines and walk familiar paths, yet her heart disagrees. If she’s honest with herself she knows a part of her heart left with him that day on the docks and another slither will stay behind.

(Soon there won’t be any of it left, she thinks, yet she can’t think of anyone she’d rather entrust her heart with, despite her earlier doubts.)

She’s going to miss Paris and it’s old, crumbling buildings and twinkling lights, the secrets and adventures and the colourful women parading around like bright birds of paradise, yet most of all she’ll miss the shy, quiet man sitting across from her. Tina’s lost her soul to this city.

(Or is it really him?)

Their reunion hadn’t been a happy one, and they had spent more time walking away from each other, losing each rather than finding each other. The hollow in her chest expands at the thought.

This quiet, tentative thing between them had been growing since their time in New York, moving in ever tighter circles despite her misgivings and his guilt. They chose to ignore it in favour of focusing on their task, but with their mission completed, it’s now more prominent than ever, heavy and undiluted as it hangs in the air between them as the alcohol loosens their tongues.

He sighs into his glass. “I—I thought we — we would have more time.” Time for what? she wants to ask, but the answer is in his eyes when their gazes meet across the table. “Tina, you must know. Surely, you must know that I —“ he begins, but his voice fails him, jaw twitching as the words stick to the roof of his mouth.

Tina can’t be sure if it’s the drink or their impending separation that makes her reach across the table and cover his hand with her own. “I’m sorry, too.” There’s new warmth in his gaze when he turns to her and gifts her with a small, disbelieving smile, boldly turning his hand to align their palms and threading their fingers. Her skin burns where it touches his.

Tina’s hand stays in his for the rest of the night until their cheeks are flush with euphoria, drunk on happiness. Newt pulls her to her feet without warning, leading her out of the bar and towards the river where the twinkling lights dance across the rippling waves.

It glitters like a jewel. Paris really is the city of light, she thinks, and a gentle smile pulls at her lips.

Newt remains quiet and she’s about to ask when he pulls her to a stop, tugging her hand to spin her into him and presses her palm to chest, just above his heart. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes at the gesture, breath hitching in her throat as she meets his gaze, marvelling at the lights reflecting in his eyes.

“I realise I don’t have a reason to come back to New York now that I’ve handed you a copy of my book; but, Tina, I would very much like your permission to call on you again, if I may —“ He struggles to complete the thought and the muscle in his jaw twitches as he rolls his lips, “— properly this time.”

“I’d like that.” Her hand rises to cup his cheek, smoothing her fingers over his jaw. “More than anything,” Tina says and knows it to be the truth. His answering smile nearly blinds her in its intensity.

I’m not ready to let you go just yet.

Newt leans closer, leaning his forehead to hers. “This isn’t goodbye,” he whispers fiercely and his gentle actions contradict the vehemence in his voice as he circles her nose with his. “I won’t allow it.”

“Good,” she says, eyes falling shut to revel in their closeness as her fingers tangle in the lapels of his coat and they begin to sway to the silent melody playing in their hearts. “Though, I guess your Ministry won’t make it much easier for you once they get wind of all this.”

He utters a short, breathless laugh before turning serious once more. “I suppose not, but it’s no matter. I’ll find a way, Tina. You have my word.”

“Good.” She smiles, bright and unabashedly. “I’m holding you to it.”

#fbawtft #Newtina #newtina fanfiction #prompt fill #angst #fluff

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osmw1 · 6 years

Text

Poison-Wielding Fugitive Chapter 26

“Uh, umm… Yukihisa?” “Hmm? What?”

I stop in between bites and look up at Arleaf and her parents.

“Are you okay… eating that much? Please don’t force yourself.”

Arleaf’s mom comes to her senses and brings me countless bottles of antidotes from the shop.

“Oh, I’m fine. In fact, I can’t get enough of this incredible flavor. Heck, I feel stronger than ever before.”

Let me check my status. Whoa… that’s crazy! All my stats have gone up, along with my health and mana regeneration. I even earn experience and skills quicker too. Oh, and my poison attacks do more damage… I can’t believe how many bonuses I’m getting. Just out of curiosity, I open up the menu and see what kind of poisons I can create.

Toxin of Arleaf’s Poison Cooking

The text is flickering a little, but I got a new option. Kinda cruel for a name. But it seems quite powerful, so I’d better not mess with it. I finished my plate while checking my status.

“Thanks for the meal.”

Mm. My body feels light and nimble. The fatigue that had built up seems to have disappeared as well. I feel so ready to go hunt in the swamp right now.

“Let me take a look at you, alright?”

Arleaf’s mom holds her hand to my forehead. I was told this afterwards, but apparently her class is Physician.

“Clean bill of health for you. No adverse effects or anything at all.” “C-Cohgray knows how to use storage magic. I bet he was just pretendin’ he was eatin’ it.” “Dear? Have you forgotten that our daughter’s cooking has Resist? He would be quite the monster if he were able to do that.”

Resist, huh? I didn’t know that was a thing. Does that mean I can’t store it? But what’s the reasoning behind it?

“Oh, uhh, that reminds me…”

Arleaf’s dad looks like he’s in deep thought as folds his arms together, muttering.

“It’s just some rumor I’ve heard from other adventurers, but they say you bathe in the swamp, Cohgray… I just laughed it off, but…”

Gah?! Don’t tell me I was being watched? It’s so unrealistic, it could be passed off as a joke. But now it might seem credible after all. Maybe I can brush it off with one of the Black Company Secret Techniques, Poker Face?

“You were floating face up when I found you too. Could it be…”

Arleaf follows up with a snipe, dealing critical damage! What should I do?! How do I brush them off now? Does magic solve everything? Help me, Veno!

‘… blub blub blub.’

Damn it! You useless dragon! I bet you’re just blowing bubbles right now, aren’t you?! I have no choice! Time to get serious!

“Uh, yeah… the truth is that I’m a Poison-Wielder, an uncommon specialty class. Not only does poison not hurt me, it even makes me stronger. And I’m here in this village because of the proximity to the swamp. So that’s why I was able to eat all of that…”

That was a little harsh, but it’s the truth. I’m sure it’s okay telling them. In fact, they might suspect me more if I were to hide it from them. And since Bloodflower is a disease from a long time ago, they won’t be able to blame me for it either!

“What’d you just say?!” “That’s… but… hmm…”

Arleaf’s dad sinks into deeper thought. At least he understood why I was able to eat Arleaf’s cooking.

“I’m an expert with poison, so I know what’s safe and what’s not for human consumption. That’s also why that acquaintance of mine was so willing to train me.”

Finally, the father pats his daughter on the shoulder.

“Arleaf, this may just be fate. Cohgray… I’m sure he will accept all of you. Don’t let this slip by.” “What are you saying?”

Wasn’t he fine with his daughter marrying late?

“Cohgray. Don’t be a stranger anymore. From now on, call me your father-in-law.”

Well, it’s refreshing that he’s changed his attitude about me. But who was it that threatened me with poison again?

“I am very grateful, but Arleaf herself has not said agreed to this, so I’m afraid that I cannot accept your offer.”

We’ve already agreed to have Arleaf only assist me, not to mention that she’s only helping me while I’m here.

“Yukihisa… umm, my father has already given you his blessing… so please treat me well from now on.”

No, wait, time out. Sure, your father has given me permission, but this ain’t quite right. Plus, the one they call Cohgray of the Swamps just finished a plate of Arleaf’s Poison Cooking… they’ll start calling me Cohgray, the Poison Eater.

“Oh, who’da guessed?! Haha! I didn’t think there’d be anyone in this world to have such a talent to not only eat, but to finish all of Arleaf’s cooking! Ah-haha!”

I join them for a meal again; this time lunch. Arleaf’s mom is cooking for us all. Yeah, I feel fine. I can eat. In the midst of lunch, Arleaf’s father takes out a bottle of liquor from somewhere and starts knocking back drink after drink. He sure is happy. Why would he—a man who dotes on his daughter so much, he’s willing to chase away all his likely sons-in-law—be so happy to have found a potential groom for his daughter? I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he thinks.

“Aren’t you being a little too honest, dear?” “No way I can stop! We’ve found someone to accept Arleaf completely! She’ll no longer be accused of poisoning people anymore. She didn’t even have to sacrifice anything either. How can I not be happy?!”

He was probably against marrying his daughter off to protect her, but maybe also to protect her husband. So that she doesn’t come to any harm with her ability of Poison Cooking…

“One of these days, Father, I shall mix my cooking into yours.” “If you think yer up to it, bring it on! Haha!”

Don’t egg your daughter on. The murderous rage hiding behind that smile of Arleaf’s is terrifying.

“Mu.” ‘Unbelievable… the flavor was revolting. To be able to knock out a dragon… from time to time, humans are truly capable of great feats.’

Muu began to regain consciousness shortly afterwards and Veno did so only slightly sooner. Maybe he recovered quickly since he’s a Poison Dragon after all.

‘Just tasting it was enough. If I had eaten it, who knows what would have happened.’

Veno guessed what had happened while he was knocked out.

‘I would never recommend thee to let others know thy intent, but it could have gone worse, especially considering the bonuses thou had gained from the food.’

Well… If I ever need to go slay monsters, I could always go and have some of Arleaf’s cooking first. It’ll buff my abilities and give me a bonus to leveling up my skills too. No reason not to use it right up ‘til the enemy comes knocking at the door. I could also get Arleaf to pack me a bento. It’d be more effective than any half-assed potion.

Well, I can gloss the whole uncommon Poison-Wielder thing over. I didn’t say anything about having a dragon inside my mind. And it doesn’t really have anything to do with Veno anyway.

“Good grief… how shameful, drinking before your meal even started. Dinner’s ready.”

Arleaf’s mother begins to bring course after course out. Wow… there’s a soup with a bunch of different ingredients and something that resembles a pizza. It smells absolutely delicious.

“Then, let us pray first. Oh, you don’t need to mind us, Mr. Cohgray.” “No, please, go ahead.”

Arleaf’s family gets seated, rests their elbows on the dining table, and clasps their hand together.

“The Holy Dragon who slumbers in our world, we are able to join together here today for a meal at your mercy. We vow to do good with your gift, which we are about to receive.”

Arleaf’s whole family mutters the same words and pray together. They’re the type to pray before every meal, eh? I’m not much of a religious man and I don’t understand much. But I know that prayer important to them religious types, so I remain silent for them. And I’m guessing that it’s good that they’re praying to some holy dragon, since it’d have nothing to do with the country that’s after Veno’s head.

‘Aye, indeed. Followers of the Teachings of the Sacred Yggdrasil would dedicate their prayers to something like “Mother Nature, our tree” or something like that.’ “Muu muu muu…”

Muu plays along and mutters something too. You’re a sly dog, aren’t you? Acting all cute.

“Now then, let’s dig in. Mr. Cohgray, you go ahead as well.” “Hahaha. From now on, Cohgray’s got Arleaf’s cooking to look forward to. Don’t worry about it.” “Father, if you don’t cut that out, I will be angry at you.” “That’s right. It’s a big day for Arleaf, so hold back a little, won’t you?” “Ah-haha! I can’t help myself!”

I ignore Arleaf’s father being all jolly and start eating. Mm. This is indeed really delicious. Considering I’ve been eating tough steaks at the tavern and as well as my own cooking, this is miles better. It seems like this isn’t the cheap stuff either. Must be because I’m over for lunch.

Oh, yeah. I could also give them some steak that’s been marinated in Mollifying Poison. I may have used poison, but it tastes great after all. As long as I explain it clearly to them, it should be alright.

“Oh, I had almost forgotten. Sorry for interrupting the conversation, but Arleaf, you’re going to have to explain to Mr. Cohgray what you can do.”

Having been instructed by her mom, Arleaf goes all embarrassed and nods without making eye contact.

“Umm, right. Before I was a Chemist, I had been a unique first job. I’ve changed back to that job to aid you as a party member.” “Oh? You were specced into a weird class like I was, Arleaf?” “It would be more accurately described as unique to our lineage.” “That’s right. We have quite the weird clan! We’ve even got relatives who are clergymen, y’know?”

Arleaf’s father, that drunkard, says boastfully.

“This part is the one that is a little different. I’ve changed into a more magic-focused class called D-Psy Earth. I am level 13 with my D-Psy Earth and level 18 for my Chemist. Hopefully, I will be useful to you in battle.”

Hmm, I see… seems like Arleaf not only knows Poison Cooking but has foundations in magic as well. That initial D doesn’t stand for anything weird, like “Deadly,” does it? She does know Poison Cooking after all.

“And since I’ve learned Magic Sense before I was a Chemist, I am able to attack and heal with magic. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be of any use to you…” “And that D…?” “…”

Ah, Arleaf looked away.

“I… I was born with a skill called ‘Death-Beckoning Cooking’…”

previously: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /ch016/ /ch017/ /ch018/ /ch019/ /ch020/ /ch021/ /ch022/ /ch023/ /ch024/ /ch025/ /ch026/ /next/ (full list of translated chapters) (discussion thread on Novel Updates) (please support me on Patreon or Paypal)

#Poison-Wielding Fugitive #PWF #Average Translations #AvgTL #osm #毒使いの逃亡者 #一般の英訳 #アネコユサギ #ライトノベル #ラノベ #Aneko Yusagi #light novel #ln

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deepintoforestwego · 6 years

Text

This is a story they tell in your village.

Every village has story, of course, but yours is isolated and far away in cold mountains and surrounded by dark pine forest, so it has a story. Story for angry and hurt and betrayed, with hurt that feels like stone, words that you spit out like shards of glass lodged in your throat, and looking anywhere feels as if iron veil has been pressed over your eyes.

Step in woods, they say, and step off the path, there where evergreen leaves are as sharp as emerald needles, where shadows and distant sunlight lazily mingle in blanket of illusion, where grass always strains to grow higher and to reach sky, where wild roses bloom with their wide petals and open yellow hearts for all to see ( they are less elegant and elaborate then ones your kind bred in their gardens and hothouses, but hardier and more likely to survive alone, but don’t forget that their thorns are shorter and duller then those you bred), into womb of tales, where brave and wise and kind go be changed by darkness to emerge as legends.

There, you must follows paths of stone and cold, of leaves and light, of darkness and dust, slipping through trees and memories until you get to crossroad- for crossroad is always more then one, of paths, of times, of worlds. There you will find them.

They call them many names. Ghosts. Witches. Demons. Saints. Spirits. Madwomen. Changelings. Legends. But once, they were daughters too, and they know the look in your eyes. They stretch out hands, but choice is yours.

Perhaps you step to first, and let her hug you even as she snarls, and more and more it seems as if she is using you to allow herself to stand, her grip iron tight and sharp as icicle. She is dirty, her snow pale bruised, clothed in cheap clothes you would find on urchins and homeless, trainers and jackets and sneakers too thin to keep out cold but she doesn’t flinch at frost covering her skin, her ebony black hair torn and tangled, and yet she is more beautiful then anybody you will ever see, a hollow statue of goddess to kneel before, and you long to eat her heart and kiss her lips, red as blood of her mother’s womb, human born and death touched before she first breathed, blood and flesh and something more, something else born from mortality, a witch’s daughter, stryzga’s sister, vampire’s mirror, werewolf’s dream. She will hold you, and grumble, and fire will burn in her eyes as she says in her chin, repeats like mantra over and over never forget, always carry it, never let anybody forget, even if you must cover it all with ice and flame, and press knife or poison or stone in your hand.

Or perhaps you will go to second, who shall hold you lightly as if she is scared of caging you otherwise, half head bald and other braid costier then gold, burning your eyes, skin tanned by desert sun, neck smiling of garden loam and rotting vegetables and fresh, growing things and sun-kissed dunes, and she looks like loon, so mismatched, army boots and ballet slippers and coat and swimwear, her voice seems as if it aches to sing, but it would rather scream if she didn’t beat it in being polite, and it’s such clear sound it could have you scouring whole forest to find source, that could get her such record deal, and her golden tears heal skin over your wounds, as you stare at her like at photo, image of woman but missing something, some depth and dimension, bargain child, garden traded, daughter by time and name and cruel choice,womb and nurture, something that was human once but not anymore, changed and twisted, and speaks to you or herself it is past, why linger there, don’t allow it to matter anymore, erase that it ever happened, jump over that memory, run far away and keep from those places, don’t acknowledge it and it will be gone and you will sing better songs, as she lets you drink golden wine, or eat sugar petals, or wrap yourself in diamond shawl.

Or you will go to third, who will wait for your permission, and hug you just right, or not at all, and allow you to cry or scream or joke as you need to, and she will be as powerful and old and soft as you want, need her to be, though her eyes shine white like starlight over lake, or sun through spring clouds, with depth and power and grace of Irij, older then moon, hidden by her hood of dark and ash, and she wears what you need her to wear, and tears and embroidery of flame, the mortal dust born with eternity as her birthright, demigod nephil cambion halfbreed, child by law and crumbs they fed her and collar they put round her neck, magic flowing alongside blood, and she will speak as loud or quiet as your heart asks her to, I understand, I don’t know because each torment is different but I understand, you are brave and strong and you survived and you will be free, it changed you, it happened but your life is yours, you can grow and change how you want to, it doesn’t define you, you can deal with it and still become more, and she will give you map, she will give you key, she will give you candle as you choose new path once again.

You just need to take step.

#fantasy #writeblr #original #fairytales #trauma

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thebiscuiteternal · 6 years

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May I request a fic for your Joitree survives AU? Like her finally waking up perhaps (and then perhaps her realising she isn’t, and will never be fully healed)? Or Lance and Pidge going to open her chamber and suddenly having a very angry, very scared Elakka forcing them away until they learn ‘why’? Either one I’m fine with; no pressure! Love your work!!!

How about a little of everything? :D This is a part one, I’ll have to come back to the rest later.

“Touch that and I’ll break you down for parts!”

Pidge threw herself back from the cryo with a shriek and stumbled into Lance, both of them tumbling back into a shelf of containers that rattled threateningly over them.

“Ow, geez-!” Lance started to say, then raised his head to find himself staring down the barrel of a blaster rifle.

A blaster rifle held in the claws of a diminutive, but very angry alien backed up by the droid that they had passed while checking out the lab. Behind the threatening pair was a second cryo tube that they had apparently missed in their hurry to investigate the first one.

“Get up. Slowly.”

Next to him, Pidge opened her mouth to argue, and then the droid held out its arms, adding two more blasters to its little friend’s rifle.

They did as told.

“You’re going to get away from this cryo, and you’re going to get out of my lab. Now,” the small alien ordered, hands trembling with rage on the blaster.

“But we live here!” Lance did protest then. “We’re Paladins! We’ve got the Princess’s permission and everything!”

Black eyes narrowed and long ears twitched slightly. “Princess? Princess whom?”

“A- Allura,” Pidge said, keeping her hands up. “She and Coran are the only Alteans left in the castle.”

That got an interesting reaction. The alien didn’t put the gun down, nor did she order her droid friend to back off, but she did finally aim it away from Pidge’s chest, her expression turning thoughtful as she looked at the floor for a moment. “Open a comm to Coran.”

“Why do you-”

The rifle snapped back up. “Do it!”

“Okay, okay! I’m putting my hand in my pocket to get it,” Lance said. When that didn’t get any more threats, he pulled out the bracelet and snapped it on. “Uh, Coran? We got a little situation.”

“You all right? You sound a little shaky,” came the tinny little voice over the comm.

“Your cohorts broke into my lab, Klaka.” the stranger said before he could reply. “And if it hadn’t been for my alarm system, they would have broken into Joia’s cryo tube.”

“Elakka? Oh, dear. I’ll be down in just a tic.”

—

The petite alien was sitting in the droid’s hands, Coran was leaning on a workstation, and Lance felt like his knees were going to give out. Glancing over at Pidge, she looked quite pale.

A life-support system.

They’d nearly broken into a life-support system, thinking it was just a regular cryo tube. No wonder the shrimpy- er, Elakka- had nearly taken their heads off.

And she still looked extremely unhappy, what with Coran’s updating history and all. “I’m going to poison every food transport their empire has,” she snarled quietly as she folded her arms, ears twitching.

“A worthy sentiment, but I’m afraid they gave up on their terraforming ships not long after they began taking over planets,” Coran said, reaching over to give his friend a gentle pat on the shoulder. “They’ve gone back to importing everything these days.”

“Tch.”

“Look, um,” Pidge cut in hesitantly. “Is there anything we can do to help with your recovery project? As an apology? We really didn’t mean to...” she made a helpless motion towards the cryo tube.

Elakka made a faint huff, the rigidity in her small body finally easing, and that seemed to take some of the uncomfortable tension in the room with it. “Luckily, I stopped you before you could actually break anything, let alone anything important. But if you really want to help, you could start bringing me samples of plant life that I don’t already have in my database. Anything I haven’t already tested. I can upload the database to your helmets’ computers.”

They both jumped at the chance to make amends. “We’ll do it!”

—

Lance tentatively leaned over Pidge’s shoulder. “How’s it going?” he asked, trying to keep his voice low.

“I don’t think it’s good,” Pidge murmured back.

The cryo had been opened half an hour ago and Coran and Elakka had carefully helped its resident out. But since then…

“Should we go in?”

“I don’t know, they’re just… talking, now,” Pidge said, then they both stiffened when Elakka caught sight of them. They were relieved, however, when she only gave them a look of exasperation and waved them in.

“Joia, these two are the new Paladins Green and Blue chose. Pidge, Lance, this is my mentor and Red’s Paladin, Joitree.”

Lance opened his mouth to correct her wording, but Pidge elbowed him gently as the new Yulnadae blinked up at them.

“Salutations,” Joitree said, slightly unsteady, then squinted at them. “You are both the same species? Fascinating.”

“All of the new Paladins are, Joia.”

“Hm. I might look into the implications of- oh!” trembling claws lost their grip on the cup she was holding, and Lance lunged forward to save it before it could hit the floor. “Thank you,” Joitree said as he handed it to Elakka. “My hands aren’t doing very well.”

And judging by the forlorn expression that had crossed Elakka’s face when he’d given her the cup…

“Um, so, as Elakka’s mentor, you must be a scientist, too, right?” Pidge said, trying to distract from the brief moment of awkwardness.

“Oh, quite, in fact-”

As the two happily engaged in technobabble, Lance kept an eye on Elakka and her reactions. And when Coran came back, he edged over to the Altean. “So… uh… Joitree’s not looking so good, is she?”

Coran sighed softly. “Unfortunately not. Her mind is thankfully as sharp as ever, but her reactions, her motor skills…” He folded his arms, and his expression was no happier than Elakka’s. “Damned shame.”

“She’ll… she’ll still be able to work in the labs, won’t she?”

“Oh, Elakka and Smooshy and I will see to it. We’d never take that away from her. But she’ll be very unhappy to say goodbye to Red. They were two pichis in a pod. It might be for the best, though... she would have hated fighting without Mirje.”

Lance looked back at the others, watched Elakka carefully help her mentor drink, and swallowed painfully in a mimic of the motion. Tried to imagine what it would be like if all the others were gone and he had to say goodbye to Blue because he just… couldn’t anymore. “It’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Coran agreed. “And that’s one of the many, many reasons we’re fighting.”

#voltron #old paladins #lance mcclaine #pidge gunderson #coran #elakka #fanfic #Anonymous

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itsyourchoicedevotionals · 3 years

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Why Don’t You?

“For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God.” Romans 8:19ESV

I’m upset. Two of God’s precious servants have died with COVID-19. Both were younger than me. One was a spiritual father to my grandson, a man very precious to us. The other man was a friend and pastor for years.

Talking to God and weeping about these losses, I kept telling God— ‘I don’t understand why You haven’t stopped COVID yet. You said through the mouths of the prophets, You would cause COVID to disappear and die. Why God are you allowing satan to reign? I don’t understand.’ I repeatedly told God His scriptures about sickness, healing, who is truly Lord over this planet. Meticulously, I laid out the scriptures showing God is Lord Most High.

Then I began telling Yahweh, Adam blew it and gave dominion over the planet to satan, ‘yes I’m aware of this. But Jesus took the dominion back when He hung on the cross.’

Holy Spirit stopped me mid-sentence— “Why don’t My people exercise their authority? Why do they allow satan to keep control over earth? Why don’t they take away his authority? Why don’t you stop COVID? YOU HAVE MY POWER AND AUTHORITY.” —oops! “Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them. …On the seventh day God finished His work that He had done, and He rested on the seventh day from all His work that He had done.” Genesis 2:1-2ESV Point A. God finished His work and turned His creation over to us. “Behold, I have given you authority to walk on snakes and scorpions, and authority over all the power of the enemy, and nothing will injure you.” Luke 10:19NASB. Point B. Adam sinned and lost control of earth. Jesus restored control to His believers. “These signs will accompany those who have believed: in My name they will cast out demons, they will speak with new tongues; they will pick up serpents, and if they drink any deadly poison, it will not harm them; they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.” Mark 16:17-18NASB “…Have faith in God. Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” Mark 11:22-24ESV Point C. The hole in our faces, the one right under the nose, dictates control or permission to everything including COVID. “The secret power of evil is already working in the world now. But there is one who is stopping that secret power of evil. And he will continue to stop it until he is taken out of the way.” 2Thessalonians 2:7ERV Point D. What we don’t allow to occur has to cease. What we curse has to shrivel up and die. What we exercise our authority over has to yield to us.

Believers— Christ’s bride— are to become like Jesus in action, and faith. We’re to become one (see John 17) and run the planet together with Christ. “Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by My Father in heaven.” Matthew 18:19ESV

Since earth is waiting for us to put on our biggie boy and girl pants; start acting like Jesus— LET’S GET GOING! DO OUR JOB. Will you join me? It’s your choice. You choose.

PRAYER: Lord God in the authority of Jesus’ name we curse COVID 19 and demand it DIE OUT COMPLETELY. We agree and touch thIs using our authority, in Jesus’ name I pray.

#Jesus Christ #lord of lords #Word of God #Holy Spirit #God #it's your choice #devotional #why don't you #secret #power #evil #authority #action #bride #love #hope #faith

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brightstarblogs · 6 years

Text

Pandora Park AU Part 3

(This is a re write of Pandora Hearts (Jun Mochizuki) with the South Park (Matt stone & Trey Parker) characters, I don’t own any either of these. I hope you enjoy it)

(Warning: There is a lot of blood in this chapter as well as a kiss scene (I wonder which characters ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )which involves some blood so if you don’t like that you probably don’t want to read this chapter.)

In an abandoned church the Testaburger servant was enjoying some tea and cake. “The twittering of birds, sunlight shining in. This is the perfect setting for sipping tea, wouldn’t you agree?” He turned towards Wendy for an answer. She just looked back at him, annoyance in her eyes. “Do please finish up with your tea, Stan. You are being imprudent.”

Stan laughed slightly. “Oh, I think it’s fine, Lady Wendy. We still have time until the ‘path’ opens.” Stan then turned to the brunette in the corner “And why don’t you come over here and have some candy?” Stan then produced a lollipop from his pocket. The brunette glared back at him, “….I’m good…” he mumbled. Stan just grabbed the bridge of his nose before saying “If you’re so tense you’ll even make a mess of things that come second nature to you..”

Wendy walked over to the brunette “The Testaburger family is undertaking this mission of it’s own accord. Even the organization doesn’t know about it, so please don’t blunder, okay?” She smiled warmly at him. He gazed at her “…Don’t worry, I have no intention of failing!”

Wendy then turned around “Then shall we begin the preparations? In order to rescue Sir Tweek Tweak with our own hands!”

Tweek was running for his life. Water was everywhere, covering the floor, splashing with ever step Tweek took. Tweek was having the worst panic attack ever. “What is this place. No matter how far I run the landscape stays the same.” Tweek’s stab wound stated to hurt again. He slumped against the wall, waiting for the pain to pass. He remembered the events that lead him to this moment. His mind especially went to the memory of Clyde. He hoped with all his heart that he was still alive.

Tweek looked up to see a floating teddy bear, his shakes increasing again “This isn’t a dream… That means that this is the Abyss!” Around him were floating toys, furniture and parts of buildings. Tweek stood up again, the pain numbed enough for him to start running again, before he started however he heard a demonic voice “I’ve finally found one!” Tweek turned around to see a monster, unlike the Guinea Pig this monster looked like a rag doll and had no eyes. It grabbed him and pushed him down. Tweek screamed. “It’s a yummy looking child!”

At that moment a powerful blast hit the monster causing it to crumble away into nothing. Before it vanished it yelled “How dare you, Bas%&*d B-Guinea Pig!” What stood in its place was the boy with the blue chullo hat. “A ‘card‘ shouldn’t be butting in.” The boy pointed at Tweek “That’s mine!” Tweek gasped, instantly recognising the boy. “YOU’RE THE BOY WHO MOLESTED ME!!!” The boy flipped him off.

“You’re so weak, letting a weak chain like that scare you.” The boy had taken Tweek to a more covered area. Tweek was confused again “Nugh What’s a chain?” The boy flipped him off again, Tweek was getting the feeling that it was a programmed response. “Chains are organisms that are born in the Abyss, and cards are the stupidest ones among them.” “Are Gah you a chain too, B-Guinea Pig?” The boy nodded.

Tweek then remembered their first encounter where the boy strangled him. “Do chains always attack people? you tried to kill me when we first met too. Why’d you do that!?” The boy just stared with his cold eyes “What are you taking about? When we first met I rescued you from the reapers.” Tweek was confused again, he swore it was this boy who had strangled him. He wore the same outfit and everything. It must have been a dream then “Great, now my dreams are trying to kill me!” The boy continued “I don’t know who you’re mistaking me for, but you’re being rude.”

Tweek opened the draw next to him, searching for food, and found a mug of coffee. “Oh thank god. Coffee you always find me.” The boy looked at Tweek. “How can you drink that stuff, and how do you know it’s not poisoned?” Tweek looked up at the boy. “Don’t make me panic again. This whole situation is just Nugh reminding me of the time I got kidnapped and I’m doing better than I was then. Besides, you’re not my enemy. You rescued me twice so you’d tell me if it was. Thank you for that by the way.”

The boy looked at Tweek, his eyes softened slightly, Tweek didn’t notice though.

“Craig.”

Tweek looked up confused. “What?” “That’s my real name. Others called me the ‘B-Guinea Pig’, but I give you special permission to call me Craig.” Tweek smiled slightly “I wonder why that name feels so familiar to me?”

Craig grabbed some flowers from the vase floating in front of him. “Before I forget, I rescued you for my own purposes, I didn’t do it because I care about you..” Tweek’s smile dropped “This guy really lacks emotion and empathy.” “The reapers went to the trouble of dropping you in here. I can’t afford to have you die.” “Why? What do you Hugh want with me? What’s this purpose of yours?”

Craig stood up, jumped, and landed on the draws in front of Tweek. “The same as yours. I want to get out of the Abyss too. That’s why I’ve been waiting for a person like you.” Craig crouched on the desk and lifted Tweek’s chin up so they were looking into each others eyes. Tweek blushed a little from the contact, he was invading his personal space again. “For a person who could become my ‘contractor’.“ Tweek was confused by what a ‘contractor’ was but Craig continued “Even you must’ve realized that this is no ordinary prison.” Craig stood back up again “The Abyss exists in a different dimension than the world you came from. A distortion called the ‘Path’ connects the two worlds. I’ll concentrate my power there and force open an exit.”

Craig crushed the flowers he was holding and threw them over Tweek for effect “Then, you and I can escape from here!” Tweeks face lit up. “We can escape! Even if its with him I’ll go for it, besides, aside from invading my personal space, I think his hearts in the right place.”

Craig spoke again. “However, I have a limiter on me, so I can’t produce that much power. The contract will allow me to release that power. You only have to call my name and agree to take part in the contract, then we can leave.” Craig’s eyes lit up slightly. “There’s something I have to do once I leave here, and you want out too.” Craig held out his hand to Tweek “So that makes us allies, doesn’t it? Then why don’t we work together!” Tweek looked up and smiled. He was scared but he knew somehow he could trust Craig. He slowly lifted his hand to take a hold of Craig’s.

“NO! Sir Tweek!!!”

Light circled Tweek and suddenly he vanished. Craig panicked slightly. “God Dammit!”

Tweek opened his eyes and saw a girl in a purple dress with black hair holding his hands. ”Wendy!” “That was close Sir Tweek, he would have killed you if you had taken his hand.” Tweek was shaking again “Why are you here!” Wendy smiled. “Worry not, Sir Tweek. I came to get you.” Wendy held out her hand and Tweek took it, the two began to walk.

“After you were dropped in here the Testaburger family began hatching a plan to rescue you. When I heard about it, I could not sit still and asked that I be included as well.” Tweek was blushing again. “She’s doing this for me, that’s so sweet.” “A little farther down is a magic formation for escaping from here. Please hold on until we reach it.”

Tweek was very happy to be escaping, but every so often he’d look back the way they came. “Are you worried about that B-Guinea Pig?” “GAHH, no….” Tweek couldn’t lie to himself though. He was very worried about Craig. Wendy looked at Tweek. “That is the most dangerous chain of all. That contract it mentioned is a ritual that is necessary for a chain to be in our world, since their existence is unstable.”

Tweek remembered something that conflicted with that statement. “But he showed up at the coming of age cere-” “That time, its power was sent there only temporarily.” Tweek was shocked, for something that was temporary Craig sure had gone on a rampage. “Even before that incident the B-Guinea Pig always interfered with our world every time a ‘Path’ opened. And it has butchered every single one of its contractors. It probably intended to kill you in the end as well.”

Tweek knew he should be terrified with what Wendy had said to him, but for some reason he wasn’t scared at all, in fact he was surprised at even himself with what he said next “Is… that really true? He’s emotionless and scary but he saved me twice. I…. I don’t think he’s evil.” “I don’t know anything about him, then why do I feel this way?”

Wendy laughed a little. “What are you saying Sir Tweek?” “nugh.. yeah, you’re right I’m-” “Didn’t the B-Guinea Pig not point a blade at you and yell ‘I’ll kill you’?”

Tweek froze but Wendy kept walking. “And still you say it’s not evil?” Tweek stopped her then. “How do you know about that dream! I haven’t told anybody about it!” Wendy started to crush his hand “S*&t. I think I’m in real trouble now!”

“Who the hell are you?!” Screamed Tweek.

Wendy turned around, her left eye was bulging and grotesque. “oopsie, Baby made a boo-boo!”

The chain taking Wendy’s form suddenly dropped its guise and transformed into a baby dolls head with spider legs coming out of it. Spider silk was coming out of it’s mouth. “Oh dear, I wanted to play with you a little more..” One of it’s legs darted towards Tweek to stab him. “It’s going to kill me!!”

Tweek saw blood splash into the water. He looked up to see Craig, he was using both his arms to block the legs. The sharp ends dug into his arms causing him to bleed. Craig looked at Tweek “Do I have to do everything for you?” “GAHH YOU’RE BLEEDING!!” Craig didn’t acknowledge Tweeks distress, he just continued. “This is ‘Mad Baby’, it’s a chain that peeks into your memories and toys with you.”

Craig then glared at Tweek darkly “I’m still annoyed at you for hesitating to take my hand but you took that girls hand no problem…” Tweek hung his head in shame “I’m sor-”

Another one of Mad Baby’s legs started lunging for them. Craig grabbed Tweek and pulled him out of danger. He hid them behind some building debris. Tweek then grabbed one of Craig’s arms and looked at his wounds, tears started to form in his eyes. “Why are you doing this. I nugh don’t know anything about you! Why does it have to be me!?”

Craig pulled his arm away and flipped him off. “You’re right. I don’t know anything about you either.” Tweek’s tears streamed down his face as he shut his eyes. “However.” Tweek opened his eyes and looked up at Craig. “I heard the sound of that watch when I was struggling to escape from here. The melody was familiar to me, so I followed it and ended up finding you. That’s when I realized that you’d be the one to get me out of the Abyss!”

Tweek’s tears stopped falling as he heard what Craig said. “I don’t have any reasons for thinking that way.” Craig then smiled a little, not a smirk that Tweek had seen before, but a very small genuine one. “I’m only following the conviction born inside me.”

Tweek started to smile himself when the wall behind them crumbed away and Mad Baby started firing web at them. Craig shoved Tweek away and Tweek collided against the ground. When he sat up again Craig’s arms was bound to his sides with web and was being lifted up into Mad Baby’s mouth. “B-GUINEA PIG!” Craig turned his head to Tweek, pain covered his face. “God dammit, if I didn’t have the limiter on, I could easily….. I think this is it for me.” Tweek looked in horror up at Craig. “You…. run away before it gets you to.”

“Run… Tweek…”

Craig then disappeared as the chain’s mouth closed around him. Tweek glared at it. He broke off some wood from a nearby chain and ran at the chain. “What am I doing? Why am I not running away like he said? Why do I want to rescue him? I don’t even know what he wants or even what he said was true.” Tweek leapt up screaming as he buried the splinter into its face. The mouth opened to yell in pain. Using this he pried open the mouth and yelled “I WON’T LET YOU DIE! NOT WHEN I OWE YOU SO MUCH!”

One thought raced through his mind “I don’t know why, but I don’t want to lose him here!”

Tweek saw Craig and without thinking he said the one thing he knew that would save them both.

“CRAIG! I AGREE TO THE CONTRACT!!!”

Craig’s head snapped up and suddenly a light emanated from him, blowing up Mad Baby and releasing both of them. Tweek was surprised he was floating but jumped more when Craig lased his fingers around Tweek’s own. “That’s not it, kid…” Craig then lifted the hand he had a hold of and while practically laying on top of Tweek, he used his other hand to cresses Tweek’s cheek. “I think you mean please enter into a contract with me, right?” The smirk was back on his face.

Tweek was angry now “No way, it was all an act!” Craig lifted up his left arm and sucked from blood from his wound and then pulled Tweeks head up.

He then kissed Tweek.

Tweek took a second to process what was happening but a bright red blush covered his face when he felt the copper tasting liquid and something else enter his mouth. Tweek tried to battle against the intruding object but all his strength left his body. In the end he ended up drinking the copper tasting liquid, it didn’t tase as bad as he thought it would. “I can’t think or resist it. It’s a power I can’t fight is overrunning my entire body.” Craig laughed slightly “Be grateful that you can serve as my hands and feet, kid..” Tweek then lost consciousness.

Tweek’s body twitched and his eyes opened, only now his eyes were pitch black with small white slits. He stood up and a smirk appeared on his face. “It’s finally mine! My own body!” Craig was now in complete control of Tweeks body. He lifted his head up and summoned his survival knife from thin air. “I can release my power now, I can finally escape from the Abyss!” Craig charged at the weak spot and it shattered.

Stan started to feel a strange disturbance in the air. Wendy looked at him with confused eyes. “What’s wrong Stan.” Before she knew what was happening Stan pulled her from where she was standing as a purple whirlwind formed in the exact same spot. As it cleared all three figures saw an unconscious Tweek laying on the ground. Stan laughed a little. “Well, well. What a surprise. He escaped from the Abyss on his own.”

The brunette figure grabbed Tweek. “This… is impossible.” He uttered. Stan let go of Wendy. “Well things worked out all right in the end though.” Wendy leaned down and touched Tweek’s cheek. “Yes… They did. We finally have obtained the key to Pandora. There is no turning back now. Even if he turns out to be the Lucifer who will bring us to ruin.”

To be continued…

(Hey guys. Hope you enjoyed this part. We got a lot of creek in this chapter and even a kiss, though the blood made it a little gross. Tweek is now possessed by Craig, but I wonder for how long? Well you’ll just have to wait for part 4 to find out ^_^. Let me know if you have any questions or if you see any mistakes.)

#pandora park #south park #pandora hearts #part 3 #wendy testaburger #sp wendy #stan marsh #sp stan #tweek tweak #sp tweek #craig tucker #sp craig #creek #sp creek #craig x tweek #tweek x craig

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fabriziofusco80 · 7 years

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Saying Goodbye to My MotherPart Two

I've been journaling daily about the journey of helping my mother through the rebirth we call death. Although these moments are intensely intimate and personal, I am sharing them publicly (with the permission of my mother, who before she stopped communicating clearly, told me If it helps others, use anything about my story, my illness, and my death in your blog, in your books. If I'm going to leave this planet, at least let my life and my death live on through the hearts of those who might learn from it.). Mom even said, Maybe I'm dying so you can learn how to help others fall sick and die with trust in God. The other day, she said, I have a synapse to God. You have a synapse to me. We can bring others along with us.

Many who are following this journey on Facebook have said, There are so many who are about to experience this journey with loved ones, who might benefit by your sharing. I know that losing a loved one is a private, deep experience of the most intimate heart, but it is also a universal human experience. So I share this process with you all, in case it helps you deal with your own grief, your own illness, your own journey through the death of a loved one, or your own fall into grace. It comforts me to trust that such deep, universal human experiences blow open the heart, if we can simply stay present with the full adventure.

10/25/17

My daughter Siena and her father Matt left my dying mother's bedside this morning so Siena could get back to school and life. Last night, as she was going to bed, Siena shared with me the Nana Mojo Grief Tips that Mom shared with her before she stopped being able to communicate. The first in a long list of How to Gikuyrieve advice was that she wanted Siena to give herself permission to feel good, that grief comes in waves of sadness, but that between the waves, we're allowed to be happy, to do fun things, to feel good. Siena took that to heart. She has been such a trooper, staying in the intensity of the grief, being so present with her Nana, crying, laughing, feeling instead of running away from the intense emotions. And then laughing, playing, gathering fall leaves with me last night on our walk to create an art project with the bounty of autumn color.

I have watched in awe as my daughter has spent hour after hour, sitting-undistracted-beside her Nana in patient silence, just watching her beloved grandmother's raspy breath. Few adults have the resilience and strength to do what my 11-year-old is doing. She will be quick to heal because she is not fighting what life is offering to her and she has no barrier to the love that is all around her, now and always.

I will miss having Siena here as we wait for my mother to transition. My little Buddha goddess has been a breath of fresh life as we usher another life out. In her last moments, she asked to be alone with her Nana. From behind the door, I could hear her whispering her last love stories to the grandmother she adores and weeping her grief into her Nana's cheek. I can't remember crying that hard in my whole life. When she felt complete, Matt and I held each other and opened our arms to her, the three of us still family, resting in each others embrace.

After Siena left, I opened my mother's closet to get a sweater, and I was struck, as if with a thousand bricks, with the horror of seeing a closet full of Christmas boxes and realizing that my mother would not be around to distribute the hundreds of Christmas gifts she insists on buying every year. (The purchases usually made six months to a year ahead of time!) I sorted through a box of things I'm sure she intended to put in my stocking, as she has done for 48 years. This will be the first year of my life that my mother doesn't stuff my stocking. It sounds so trivial to my mind as I write this. Such a small thing, the discovery of the stocking stuffers, and yet, if you knew my mother, you would understand that such things were not trivial to my mother. Her love language is gifts. It frustrated her that she raised a family of minimalists.

This is what grief does, I suppose. You walk around, just living your life as if everything is normal, drinking your coffee, tending to the dishes, answering emails, and then you stumble upon something that humbles you to your knees. And you breathe. And you surrender to the emotion as you breathe. And you beg for mercy from what feels like unbearable pain, and yet you know you can't skip it. You know the only way to get to the other side is to go all the way through it without bypassing one bit.

And then, just as a labor contraction passes and you feel relief when you're giving birth, the grief passes, and the sun comes out, and there is love all around, and you find gratitude in everything that's still here. Unspeakable joy is only one or two breaths away from the agony of loss.

A sign on my father's memorial in my mother's home says, Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened. I say-go ahead. Do both. Cry because it's over. Smile because it happened. Hold the tension of the paradox and open your heart to how deep being human can go if you let it.

10/26/17

Last night, I curled up in blankets and looked at the stars over the lake at my mother's home. I remember my mother teaching me about all the constellations when I was a little girl-and how excited she was to show me the Southern Cross this past April when we were in Africa on safari together as her bucket list trip after her terminal cancer diagnosis. Mom and I were alone with our safari guide in the Land Rover, all curled up in the freezing cold under heavy wool blankets. Our guide turned off all the lights so we could gaze at the most magnificent African sky-an enormous show of shooting stars and constellations I don't recognize, set to the soundtrack of African bush animals.

This time, Mom is sleeping in the bed where she will die in her home and I was on the deck, feeling a jumble of emotions-gratitude, grief, joy, relief, tenderness, impatience, love, sadness. It brings to mind Rumi's poem The Guest House.

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

10/27/17

As a doctor, I have attended many deaths, and as a woman, I have been with about a dozen people who were dying outside of my work. Sometimes, as when my father passed, it is a peaceful, transcendent place. The death process itself is a holy meditation for those who witness it. This is not so much the experience I'm having with my precious mother. The between worlds place my mother is inhabiting isn't so rose-colored these days. When the inevitable time comes to lose a parent, we pray it will be quick and easy, a time of angels and tunnels of light, of professions of undying love, a time of transcendence. But it isn't always that smooth.

There is deep love at my mother's bedside. There is humor, as when my mother, eyes still closed, did a glorious fist bump after my aunt told her that my adorably messy sister, who lives with my mother, finally cleaned her bedroom. There is a lot of music. We spend most of the day singing to my mother, and she still sings along with us when she can. I think I sang the entire John Denver repertoire to her yesterday. Annie's Song made her smile the most.

But I don't want to sugar coat what is happening here at my mother's bedside either. There are agonizing moments, moments I can't un-see, moments that haunt me when I close my eyes to go to sleep, wondering if she will still be with us when I awaken. Last night, my beautiful mother put her hands to her face, like a child playing hide and seek. Are you in pain? I asked. She shook her head. Then clear as a bell, she said, I'm really hating this.

Tears. Helplessness. I feel so impotent. I want to make it better, but there are only so many John Denver songs.

My mother Trish thinks there are bugs biting her. At one point, she said, We're infested with mice. I told her that could never happen because she's the Trishinator. (We always joked that no bug or rodent could possibly survive her presence because she's always bombing the house with all kinds of scary poisons intended to get rid of everything but humans!)

Mom is busy in her mind, making to do lists, asking me what the schedule is. When I asked her if she's excited to go to heaven, she nodded, but then she added, I'm anxious. Hospice added some medication to help calm her nerves and settle the hallucinations that often accompany end of life. I succumb to their guidance, but like my mother, I really hate this. I think we overmedicate everything painful. I'm fine with optimizing Mom's pain medication, but I hate tranquilizing my mother in her last moments. I want her to be fully present for what is about to happen, but then, this is not about me. This is my mother's journey, and of course, I would never want her to suffer needlessly.

I told my 79-year-old mentor Rachel, who is also a physician, that I'm having a really hard time staying present with all this, that I have a strong (though I'm aware it's also pathologic) impulse to make it better, to ease her suffering, to DO something. I've spent 10 years in therapy interrupting my Savior Complex, so this feels like the ultimate pattern interrupt. I cannot save the woman I would most want to save. In fact, any attempt to do so dishonors her and disrespects her autonomous journey. But jeez, this is an intense initiation.

The death watch is brutal. Unlike a birth, which has a due date and a past due date, there is no due date on death. The waiting-breath by precious breath-is part of the journey. Rachel said, Alas the due date here is shrouded in mystery but no one dies on the wrong due date no matter how it appears to us. I believe that everything that happens in this period has deep meaning and value and is a profound learning in response to the events and conditions and beliefs of this lifetime or, even more likely, a learning related to a previous lifetime. I often wonder if the events of someone's death are even a service to others and final teaching transmitted to others in unforgettable terms. My own mother said that people die only when they are complete. We may never understand that completion, but it is profound, no matter how it looks to us. It is very very hard to watch but it does not need to be fixed. Our way of death of all things is not meaningless any more than our way of birth. As painful as it seems, it is in all probability a gift/teaching to carry forward to a better lifetime. Hard to be a doc at such times, isn't it? And even harder to be a daughter. I have really come to believe that control may not be the ultimate offering here, but your love and your trust of the unknown probably is. As long as she is not in pain or alone, all is well dear Lissa.

Rachel's words comfort me. My opportunity here is to simply be present with my mother, to resist the impulse to distract myself from what is so hard to witness and feel fully, to find meaning and joy in the moments of deep connection, to bask in the plane of love that washes over me every few moments and fills me with light and gratitude. Rachel says my love and my trust in the unknown may be the ultimate gift I can give my mother. This I can give. I trust the Great Mystery. I do. I never doubt it, not even on my darkest nights. Divine Beloved, this journey is yours. May whatever is aligned with Your will come to pass.

Love,