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themultifandomgal · 2 years

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Alfie Solomons- Not A Dream Wedding

"Are you ready love?" Pol asks as Ada places my vail over my face

"Yeah, Pol can you make sure my brothers play nice today, especially Arthur and Tommy"

"Of course love. Now let's get you married" Ada walks off to go and sit down while I stand with Pol at the back of the church. She gives me a kiss on my forehead when Arthur walks over to me to to give me away

"Please be nice today" I whisper to Arthur

"I've agreed to give you away haven't I?"

"I want today to be perfect, all my brothers together in one room with Alfie and no fighting"

"Heard you loud and clear YN" a piano starts to play and Arthur walks me up the aisle towards Alfie who is leaning on his cane while smiling. Arthur gives my hand to Alfie and quietly says to him "remember who her brothers are. You harm a hair on her head we will kill you"

The wedding it's self doesn't last very long and we end up at Arrow House for the after party

"You look beautiful dear" Alfie says as you dance together

"And you look handsome" I smile at my now husband

"Did you have a good day? we were on our best behaviour"

"You were, thank you" I lean up and peck his lips "I need the toilet, I'll be back in a bit" I leave Alfie's arms and head to the bathroom.

When I walk out and back to the main room I see Alfie and Tommy beating someone up. I sigh walking over to Polly and Ada "what the fuck did I miss?"

"Someone drunk shouting out shit about you" Ada replies, but tries to turn me away

"Who?" I frown looking between

"You don't need to know love"

"Who?" I now ask more irritated

"Dad" Ada tells me making me groan. I walk away from my Aunt and sister

"Ahh there she is" dad yells out

"Alfie, Tom stop" I squat down now seeing that dad already has a black eye forming and blood running down his nose. I look at Tommy "I thought I said no fighting today?"

"You said no fighting with Alfie or the others. Said nothing bout this peace of shit"

"Why are you here Arthur?"

"Arthur? since when did you stop calling me dad?"

"Since the day you left, if you'd ever bother to come and see your children"

"You look so much like your mother, acts like her to. A whore" that's when I loose it. I slap him across his face making him laugh

"Don't talk about mother like that. At least she loved us. Tom get him out of here before he ruins my wedding more" I stand up and Tommy lifts him up with the help of John. Unfortunately the man who calls himself my dad pulls on my dress

"Wait YN. At least let me have a drink with my daughter and son in law"

"I think you should get your hand off her, yeah?" Alfie pries his hand from my dress and I watch my brothers making my dad leave "I'm sorry he come here"

"Don't worry about it. But he did ruin my dress" I pout looking at the blood on my white dress

"Well I was going to rip it off you tonight so it would have been ruined anyway" Alfie shrugs while leading me over to some drinks

"Alfie" I scold

"Ok ok I'll have someone clean the dress, but your bra and panties are fair game right, and any other dress for that matter yeah"

"Thank you" I kiss his cheek as I pick up a glass of wine "and if you give me a few minutes to change out of this, I may have a surprise for you that you can rip. But remember we're staying here tonight so we have to be quiet. If any of my brothers find you naked in bed with me then they won't hesitate to put a bullet through your head"

"We're married now YN, they can't do shit to me. I'm bloody Alfie Solomons yeah. And anyway how do they think we're going to have a child if I can't have sex with my sexy wife"

"I'm dreading the day we have to tell them"

"I can't wait to see you with my child inside you" Alfie smirks at me

"Yeah? well it won't be for a while I'm afraid. Let them cool down with the idea that the Camden King is my husband"

"I'm not getting any younger YN"

"I know, but let's just enjoy some time with just us for now" I press my lips against his, our lips moving in sync. This wedding may not have ran that smoothly, but much better than expected.

#alfie solomon’s imagine #alfie solomons x y/n #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons #peaky blinders reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders sister

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cee-grice · 9 months

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it is blorbo thursday once again and y'all know what that means

continuing on from last post (found here), introducing you to the rest of the project's team ✨

The Research Team (part 2)

Rey Aukatesh

a geneticist from Edkava (same country as Endra), him and his wife Onna are the only specialists invited to participate in the project from overseas

a very adept charm magic user

probably the most relaxed out of everyone, there not for the prestige but for the novelty

is only on his wife's side <3 follows her commands unconditionally <3

perpetually either amused or perplexed. just there to have a good time really

WILL throw anyone (besides his wife<3) under the bus if it'll get him (or his wife<3) what he wants

unbothered king

33ish, fair-skinned, slicked back dirty blond hair, wears simple, practical clothing, loves rings

"<...> No offense, Quilin—can I call you Quilin? You all here can be so strange with these titles—but you like to focus too much on the, ah…” He swayed his head from side to side. “Flashy stuff. Not very practical. You know?” He caught Mistress Aukateshka’s eye who twisted her face this way and that. He giggled. “Onnashka says you have too much money. That’s why.”

Onna Aukateshka

also a geneticist from Edkava but specializing more in venemagik genetics

also a very adept charm magic user

there to get shit done, can get very intense in her pursuits

would absolutely do highly unethical human experimentation if laws allowed it

(not that that can stop her, really)

with that said. she's definitely eyeing Quil and his patchwork of a body

almost entirely deaf, communicates with Rey either via sign language or telepathy (worth noting that prolonged telepathic links are infamously difficult to pull off. they're just that skilled at it)

has 0 patience for bullshit (mostly Rey's lol)

34ish, the tallest in the room, has long strawberry blonde curls, pretty conventionally attractive in general, also wears quite simple and practical clothing

“See, you do need me,” Master Aukatesh cooed in Edkavan. Mistress Aukateshka glared at him. With aggressive vigor, she signed, “He needs you” followed by a word Quil didn’t understand but, judging by the indecent symbols, probably meant something along the lines of ‘fucker’.

Erion Varkoir

a professor at the Academy, teaches theory on magia's physicality

was Quil's professor for a few years as well, and has Beef with him because Quil had uh. a tendency to question authority in inventive ways which some of the faculty members didn't appreciate lol

for the first few weeks of them working together on the project managed to entirely avoid acknowledging Quil's presence. kinda impressive honestly

(see when Quil has a problem with someone he talks shit to them instead of ignoring them. this guy though has way more self-control lmfao)

mostly just trying to do his work in peace (it's unsuccessful)

68ish (ha old), long grey hair that's usually pulled back too tightly, frown lines instead of smile lines lol, wears unusually colorless for the region robes

“You object, Erion?” “More so that I am… concerned,” he said, slow. “Bar your apprentice, d'Alisso is the youngest amongst us here, and his experience speaks to it. Would it not be more fitting for him to observe and assist instead of lead?” Behind all that politeness, Quil could almost hear the unspoken 'with all due respect, but fuck him'. It was far from unexpected, and so Quil managed to control himself from glowering.

taglist (lemme know if you wanna be added/removed): @writerfae, @tate-lin, @iriswords, @sternenmeerkind, @thecrookedwriterspath, @pure-solomon, @moonshinemagpie, @arowanaprincess, @scribe-of-stories, @thesorcerersapprentice, @stuffaboutwriting, @doriians, @sam-glade

#writeblr #character intros #wwcc character intros #writers on tumblr #wwcc wip #c: rey #c: onna #c: greta #c: erion

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idontwanttospoiltheparty · 2 years

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for writing prompts, I've always been a sucker for character studies, and I thought the contrast between John's very reserved routine where he was just cooped up in Kenwood vs. Paul's "king of swinging london" lifestyle post-touring years was very influential in their dynamics later on (think this was discussed in the Rob Sheffield ep. of AKOM), and dunno if it's your preferred kind of writing style - but I always loved the inner voices you gave each of them in ILTY, so would love your take on it!

inspired by you calling Paul a king instead of prince, which is the word I've seen more often :) this didn't end up being about their dynamic exactly and I went sort of off the rails in terms of style lol, but I hope you still enjoy <3

Diarchy ~1.1k words

(from Greek δι-, di-, "double", and -αρχία, -arkhía, "ruled")

“One day, you four will be bigger than Elvis,” Brian told them.

John can still recall Paul’s chuckle.

“Sir, that’s very kind of you and we are sort of brilliant, but no need for false flattery.”

Brian Epstein, immediately taken with Macca’s charm, which the leather trousers and greased hair only superficially concealed, broke into a smile.

“Believe me, I am not in the business of false flattery.” Then he locked eyes with John, with a stare so disarming it reaches across time and space and sends shivers down his spine right now, as he lies in bed, searching for motivation to get up.

Bigger than the King — every day, it’s getting harder to deny it, John realizes, as he pulls the covers up to his chin. Only, at some point, perhaps when he came face-to-face with Elvis himself, all of it – the money, the recognition, the power – became meaningless to him. Now, all he feels is the unimaginable weight of the crown, pulling him down and tightening around his brain, the burden of his medals squeezing his heart and making it ever more difficult to breathe.

Christ, does he want a cigarette right now.

Once again, his stubborn laziness has been defeated by a debilitating craving. John crawls off the king-sized mattress, so large that some nights he isn’t sure Cyn actually shares it with him. After putting on his glasses, he dons a dressing gown, which hangs off his shoulders like a royal mantle.

He is like Louis XIV, he thinks, slowly walking down the steps of Kenwood. He’s been reading a lot of history books lately, one of the only activities he still seems to enjoy, and the parallels haunt him. Here he is, in his closed-off palace, sequestered away from the capital and, whether intentionally or not, from life itself.

Here comes the Sun King, he thinks, floating into the kitchen, where Cyn sits at the table.

He is like Henry VIII, he thinks, rather off-handedly at first, simply in-keeping with the theme of over-indulgent regents — before falling into a minor spiral over what this comparison means for his current marriage.

He may have a son, but he is more and more becoming convinced that what he needs, his wife cannot provide.

He is like King Solomon, glued to his throne and writing his songs; apparently an authority on love and God even, appointed by birth, that is to say, by rotten luck. People come to him, seeking his wisdom, for they have dubbed him “the Smart One”, even whilst he spoils his sense of self, dropping acid and hallucinating three hundred concubines.

He is like Tutankhamun, the fallen Pharaoh; doomed young, buried in gold and treasure, the mask he wears remembered in lieu of his actual face.

How he longs for someone to finally open his crypt; how he fears for whomever might stumble upon it and suffer his curse.

* * *

Bigger than Jesus, Paul thinks, stepping through the gate at Cavendish Avenue. He doesn’t know why John’s misquoted words are in his head at this hour. It is so late that the street lanterns are dark and not a single fan is there to greet him.

As he comes down from the various highs of the evening – the party, the art, the coke – he finds himself contemplating the comparative.

“You’ve really gone and done it this time, haven’t you, John?” he remembers saying, his best friend half-smirking at him, in an attempt to cover up his profound fear of the disaster he had caused.

“Didn’t say ‘bigger’, did I? Wouldn’t’ve been wrong, though, if I had…”

Paul, unable to keep up his frustration for long, smiled.

“And what does that make us, then?”

John’s eyes glinted.

“Kings of King of kings.”

It’s overwhelming, Paul thinks, entering his quiet townhouse, while remembering his wild night — the celebrations may end, but the music playing in his head never does. Most moments, he is thankful for it, drinking up experiences and ideas alongside the free-flowing booze, but some dark minutes like this one, he wishes for peace; the kind he found so easily as a child, content to daydream on the back seat of a bus.

Everyone wants to speak with him now, everyone wants his consideration and stamp of approval, but the worst part: Paul wants everything, too. He’s not sure when it happened, but there is a looming sense that he’s walked past some point of no return, and he now feels a hunger inside him that will never be quelled.

Paul shakes the rain off his umbrella then hangs it up on his mahogany coat hanger, lifting it as if it were a sceptre. In the dim light, his silk shirt gleams like battle armour, like the glistening personality he has learned to put on when surrounded by crowds.

He is like King Arthur, he thinks, making his way toward the garden for one last smoke before bed; he’s been revisiting stories from his childhood as well as ones he never got around to, in an attempt to understand better. Although he tries desperately to re-distribute the reign he was bestowed with evenly across his Round Table, he will never not be the stand-out sovereign among his peers.

He draws a ciggie from his pack like the sword from the stone.

He is like Alexander the Great. He has built an empire atop another, once thought undefeatable, all before the humble age of thirty. He longs to herald in a new era of cultural sharing, and the fact he does indeed hold the power to do so is tantalizingly terrifying.

He is also plagued by a foreboding that the instant he gives in and lets himself relax, he will drop dead and with him his dominion disintegrate.

Although he tries to stop himself, Paul thinks he may be like the emperor from Andersen’s tale, clad in nothing before all his intimidated subjects. After all this time, he has never quite been able to shake the feeling that he is secretly embarrassing himself and, one day, a few words coming from the most ostensibly innocuous of sources will bring his entire kingdom down.

He is like Odysseus, King of Ithaca; so intoxicated with the thrill of adventure that he may never find his way home, all the while watching those around him give in to their fleeting desires or the whims of wily tricksters, only to pay the ultimate price.

And when it’s been this long, who at home might still be waiting for him to return? Who will grieve?

#<333333 #sorry I feel like I kind of didnt fully hit the mark on your prompt I just got really Really into this motif lol #anyways please do let me know what you think :)#fic #ask #anon #fiona.docx

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steveezekiel · 5 months

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VISITATION FROM ABOVE

5 THAT NIGHT THE LORD APPEARED TO SOLOMON IN A DREAM, and God said, “WHAT DO YOU WANT? ASK, AND I WILL GIVE IT TO YOU!”

6 Solomon replied, “You SHOWED GREAT AND FAITHFUL LOVE to your servant my father, David, BECAUSE HE WAS HONEST AND TRUE AND FAITHFUL TO YOU [God]. And you have continued to SHOW THIS GREAT AND FAITHFUL LOVE to him today by giving him a son to sit on his throne.

7 “Now, O Lord my God, you have made me king instead of my father, David, but I am like a little child who doesn’t know his way around.

8 And here I am in the midst of your own chosen people, a nation so great and numerous they cannot be counted! 9 GIVE ME AN UNDERSTANDING HEART SO THAT I CAN GOVERN YOUR PEOPLE WELL AND KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN RIGHT AND WRONG. For who by himself is able to govern this great people of yours?”

12 I WILL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU ASKED FOR! I will GIVE you A WISE AND UNDERSTANDING HEART such as no one else has had or ever will have!

13 AND I WILL ALSO GIVE YOU WHAT YOU DID NOT ASK FOR—RICHES AND FAME! No other king in all the world will be compared to you for the rest of your life!

14 And IF you FOLLOW ME and OBEY MY DECREES and MY COMMANDS as your father, David, did, I will GIVE you a LONG LIFE.”

1 Kings 3:5-8,12-14 (NLT)

• Every good and every perfect gift is from God. All that come from Him are good and perfect.

- He is a good and perfect God: "EVERY GOOD GIFT and EVERY PERFECT GIFT is from above, and comes down from the FATHER OF LIGHTS, with whom there is NO VARIATION or SHADOW OF TURNING" (James 1:17 (NKJV).

- Divine visitation is all about God's visitation:

(i) God visited Abraham and Sarah (Genesis 18:1-15).

(ii) He visited Daniel (Daniel 10:12).

(ii) Jesus visited Zacheus (Luke 19:2-9).

CORNELIUS was also visited (Acts 10:1-4).

- If God visited you, your life would never be the same.

• The state of your heart determines God's visitation in your life.

- If you despised God in your heart; what belongs to Him, or when someone is honouring Him, you may not experience His visitation.

- Michal the daughter of King Saul, wife of David the king, despised David while praising and celebrating God—when the Ark of covenant was being taken to Zion, the city of David. Because of what Michal did, she remained unfruitful for the rest of her life (2 Samuel 6:20-23).

- God will honour whoever honours Him: "THEREFORE the LORD God of Israel says: ‘I said indeed that your house and the house of your father would walk before Me forever.’ But now the LORD says: ‘Far be it from Me; FOR THOSE WHO HONOUR ME I WILL HONOUR, AND THOSE WHO DESPISE ME SHALL BE LIGHTLY ESTEEMED" (1 Samuel 2:30 NKJV).

- If you honoured God in your heart, He will equally honour you, and the other way around, If your dishonoured Him, He will despise (Matthew 10:33; 2 Timothy 2:12).

- Some honour God with their lips, but their hearts are far away from Him (Isaiah 29:13,14).

• God's visitation

(i) Those whom God visited in the Bible had a good relationship with Him. Their hearts to God were right. Though a number of them had their shortcomings, yet, they revered God, and had the fear of Him in their hearts.

(ii) One may be wrong in his or her head, but the heart of such might be right. God usually visited those who had the right hearts.

ZACCHEUS was not a holy person, so to speak, in the sight of Man, but Jesus visited him because his heart was right and longed to see Jesus (Luke 19:1-10). CORNELIUS was not a Jew, nor a believer in Christ Jesus, but God visited him because he wanted to please God; and God led him how he could Establish a relationship with Him (Acts 10:1-8).

(iv) God is not looking for those who are perfect, but those who long and yarn for Him, who wanted to see and know Him:

"WHEN Jesus heard it, He said to them, “THOSE WHO ARE WELL HAVE NO NEED OF A PHYSICIAN, BUT THOSE WHO ARE SICK. I DID NOT COME TO CALL THE RIGHTEOUS, BUT SINNERS, TO REPENTANCE" (Mark 2:17 (NKJV).

• What to do to experience God's visitation

I. Preparation of the heart. If your heart is prepared and ready to receive Him—He will surely visit you.

a. Repentant heart or contrite spirit is required (Isaiah 66:2). If you had a repentant heart, and ready to accept your errors, God would have mercy and forgive.

b. Having a right heart means having a submissive heart; a heart that is ready to admit mistakes and errors; heart that is willing to repent and ask for forgiveness and God's mercy (Psalm 34:18; 51:17; Isaiah 66:2).

c. Not a heart that is arguing, trying to justify the self, the wrong done, who refuses to accept what he had done wrong (1 Samuel 15:17-23).

d. The God we serve is the God of second chance. If you had lived a rough and dirty life, but genuinely repented when you come to Him, He will accept you and clean you up—make your life new (1 Timothy 1:12-16). And He afterwards gives you another chance (Galatians 1:13-16).

II. Forgiveness. If God had been magnanimous to forgive you, you also have to forgive others (Matthew 6:14,15; 18:35).

- Let go of whoever has offended you. If you had bitterness, unforgiviness against anyone, you cannot experience God's visitation:

14 "FOR if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly FATHER will also FORGIVE you. 15 BUT IF YOU DO NOT FORGIVE MEN THEIR TRESPASSES, NEITHER WILL YOUR FATHER FORGIVE YOUR TRESPASSES" (Matthew 6:14,15 NKJV).

V. Love for God, your fellow Believers, and other people; provoked divine visitation.

- If you love, you express it through Giving (1 Kings 3:3,4).

- Your love for God and others ignites His visitation: "LET BROTHERLY LOVE CONTINUE. 2 Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing SOME HAVE UNWITTINGLY ENTERTAINED ANGELS" (Hebrews 13:1,2 NKJV).

IV. Giving. Solomon gave a thousand burnt offerings and God visited him (1 Kings 3:3-5).

- Your Seed provokes a divine visitation (1 Kings 3:4,5). If you can touch God's heart with your seed, He will surely visit you.

VI. Obedience to God's instructions will also trigger His visitation.

- Being focus on your relationship and fellowship with God, and being faithful in the assignment which He has given to you, would also trigger His visitation.

III. Prayer. Someone says: If God wanted to bless a group of people, in a special way, He will first of all set them to pray.

- John Wesley said It seems God is limited by our prayers, that He could do nothing for humanity unless someone asks Him:

7 “BEFORE she was in labour, she gave birth; Before her pain came, She delivered a male child. 8 Who has heard such a thing? Who has seen such things? Shall the earth be made to give birth in one day? Or shall a nation be born at once? For as soon as Zion was in labour, She gave birth to her children" (Isaiah 66:7,8 NKJV).

- You cannot bring forth without travailing. Intercession precedes a visitation from God (Galatians 4:19).

• God has a plan, programme, concerning every individual Believer. Divine visitation is According to God's plan or programme for your life.

- If God has chosen to favour you, no one can stop it. When your time of visitation comes, no one can stop it.

- God visited Abraham, and Sarah's Unbelief that could have ordinarily hindered God's Blessing in their lives, instead, triggered it.

- At the set time to favour you, God would cause things to work for your good. He would surely visit you, if your heart was right, but you have to be patient with Him.

• Prayer

It is my prayer that you will not miss His visitation in Jesus' name.

You will not be found wanting in your day of visitation in Jesus' name.

Peace!

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writerdream22 · 4 years

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requested by no one, but once again @nemesis729 suggested an amazing scenario and wanted me to write a fifth part of this series, so here it is! I really hope you all like this ✨🌻💛

pairings: Thomas Shelby x twin sister!reader, Alfie Solomons x Shelby!wife!reader

warnings: angst. There might be some grammatical errors since English is not my first language

Thomas felt worthless after you showed that you were determined to cut off all the threads that bound you to the Shelby clan

After such a long time, he'd understood that he'd done a mistake, leaving you for Grace— who in the end turned out to be the “bad guy”

He wanted to do something, he wanted to redeem himself in front of your eyes without excessively interfering with your life

So, he wrote you a letter. And this time it was a long letter, full of sadness and grief

He knew he'd done everything by himself, so he began writing his letter like this:

“My dear y/n, I'm writing you this letter hoping you'll read it, someday. I did an unforgivable mistake by estranging you from the family, and I know that neither of us is going to forget what I've done in the past years. Everyone was against my decision, and I understood that they were right way later than I was supposed to. Grace is not who I thought she was, so you were right on that. Something has happened within me, and I need to atone for my faults—”

After spending hours writing, Thomas carefully closed the letter in a beige-colored envelope, then personally went to your house and left it just before the door

He hid behind a bush from which he could see the house clearly, and waited for you to come retrieve the mail

Not much later, you opened your house's door holding what seemed to be a crying newborn baby in your arms

Almost eight months had passed from Samuel's birthday. Were you already pregnant then? And was the baby a male or a female?

It was indeed a female, born just a few weeks prior to the event we were recounting, and you and Alfie had decided to name her Winifred

Anyhow, you instantly saw Thomas' letter and recognized his handwriting

You reluctantly took the envelope in your hands, careful not to drop Winifred, and walked back into your house

After assuring himself that you were far enough to not see him, Thomas walked to one of the living room's windows (he somehow knew you would have gone there) and cautiously overlooked your actions

You sat on a green-colored armchair and put the letter beside you, still holding Winifred close to your chest

“And he expects me to read this?! He wants forgiveness, after what he's done? Never.”

And so you shred the envelope to pieces and threw it in the crackling flame of the fireplace

Your twin brother looked down, feeling disappointed and hopeless, and walked to his car, which he had parked far away

The long walk made him think about what he'd lost because of his own selfishness and irrationality, because of his desire to become as close to a king as he could be

He'd lost what he cared for the most, the person who had helped him solve every problem of his, who had stayed with him through thick and thin, who had always fought alongside him, against what the world held for them both

He realized way too late that his twin sister, y/n Shelby, had been hurt so much that her scars would have never healed completely

He realized way too late that his twin sister had found complete happiness in the arms of someone who gave her everything, who always helped her and never left her behind, unlike him

Thomas Shelby had completely lost his twin sister

He knew he would have never been the same person that he was before the war, just like you would never have been the same girl who played in the mud by the cut and loved talking with other people

Nevertheless, you once knew that your brother was by your side, that he would have been there forever

But now, because of Grace Burgess, both you and Thomas had lost an essential part of your life

Even though you had found yourself in the arms of Alfie Solomons, the man you went on to marry and build a family with, you always felt an immense void in your heart which had been left by Thomas' betrayal

You weren't willing to get hurt again, you wanted to live as peacefully as you could (even though it wasn't actually possible) and care for family

You had found the courage to start again, away from everything and everyone you knew, and Thomas wasn't going to take it away. Not now, not in a thousand years.

“Oh dear brother, my dear Tommy, you'll never read this letter because I don't have the courage to enclose it in an envelope and send it to you. You need to know that I'll always love you, but you need to understand what you've done even though it hurts. Just think about what you've done to me- you're just feeling a minuscule part of what I felt. I sincerely hope you will gain your senses before it's too late, before you do something reckless (which you've certainly already done) and get hurt, or worse. Even though you hurt Alfie, my husband, he won't be against you passing by our residence for lunch and stay with our children, play with them for a while. A lot of time has passed, so much time since we've properly rode horses around Watery Lane and talked. I hope you're living a happy life, that our siblings and aunt Pol are doing well and that Small Heath is like I remember. I will never forget you, brother. Me and you against the world, remember?— ”

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cynergy-laughter · 4 years

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Obey Me! One Master to Abridge Them All! Ep. 5

5. Rewind... Rewind... Rewind...

Leviathan: W-What?! No, that doesn’t happen!

MC: Uh, yeah it does.

Diavolo: Enn doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would lie about something so detailed... I think we know who the winner is...

Leviathan: No... NNOOOOO! *changes into demon form* You shouldn’t know any of this! You are just a newbie wannabe! You got into TSL in such a short time, and now this... I will not accept this... I will not recognize you as a fan!!! *runs at Enn*

MC: Oh shi- *falls down* Mammon!

Mammon: I’m comin- GAH! *slips on some melted ice cream* Dammit! I can’t get there in time... run!

Levi: I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED BY A NORMIE!!! *reaches out hands to wring Enn’s neck*

*Freeze!*

MC: *voiceover* This is me, I know what you’re thinking, this is a huge jump from the last time we left off. Oh dang... I look so scared at that frame... who even got that angle of me? Well they deserve a raise... uhh anywho, you’re probably wondering how I got here... well good, fleeting audience, I shall tell you how.

*rewinds two days and two nights ago*

MC: *groaning, brushing their teeth and getting ready for bed* I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that garlic and ghost pepper devil potato salad... best potato salad I’ve ever had, but feels like a detox coming out... *sprays and finishes up in the bathroom*

???: H-Help... Help me...

MC: *eyes widen* Oh please tell me I’m not in a bathroom fever dream...

???: Please... help... follow my voice...

MC: ... Yeah, cause that always goes well...

*follows to the attic stairs anyway*

Lucifer: *pops up out of nowhere* Go back now. There’s nothing up there for you.

MC: For me? Now you’ve piqued my interest.

Lucifer: Well there’s nothing at the peak for you, go back to your room. Don’t ever go up to the attic.

MC: How do you spell attic, by the way?

Lucifer: ... A-T-T-I-C.

MC: Ah! You naughty boy, why were you looking down there?! *puts hands over chest* My eyes are up here.

Lucifer: *blinks and blushed mad, realizing what he just said* Room. Now.

MC: *tries not to laugh as they go to their room*

—————

MC: *sitting at breakfast, alone with Mammon, zoned out*

Mammon: Hey! Are you even listening to me?!

MC: Hmm? Oh, sorry, as soon you started talking crap about me I kinda just turned your ranting into background noise.

Mammon: ...Well... don’t do that, you don’t just skip over The Great Talkative Mammon’s dialogue, that’s rude.

MC: Did you... really just add another adjective to your Name Title?

Mammon: Yeah, what you gonna argue with The Great Infallible Mammon?

MC: I literally made you enter a pact with me two nights ago.

Mammon: Shut up! Gah! Why did I have to be the one who be paired with you. It’s all Levi’s fault that I’m with you in the first place... no, it’s all Lucifer’s fault... none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for him...

MC: *sighs, and goes on another daydream, he wanted to know how to get past Lucifer*

*Earlier last night*

MC: *Casually walks toward the stairs* Hey Lucifer, can I see what’s upstairs, please?

Lucifer: No.

MC: tch, almost had him... *walks back to room*

*present*

Mammon: ...Lucifer’s color scheme reminds me of those OP DeviousArtsy original characters, like Red and Black? Seriously? Get a better outfit, especially if you’re gonna wear brown shoes, why can’t you wear black, you’re already wearing so much of it! Oh and to top it off, his feet reek... not that I’ve... ever smelled them... but I’m saying it, so it’s true-

MC: Mammon, what’s in the attic?

Mammon: Don’t change the subject, right now we’re discussing Lucifer’s feet, which, by the way, freaking stin- wait what?

MC: ... Mammon. Attic. What’s up there?

Mammon: ... Geez, you really don’t know how to mind your business do you?

MC: I do, but I feel like I’m already more involved than anyone could ever realize...

—————

Mammon: *walking with Enn to Levi’s room* If you wanna get past Lucifer and find out what’s in the attic... You’ll need something that Lucifer wants, and I think I know just who to go to for that something...

MC: *looks at Levi’s room door* ... So why the hell are we outside the Ultimate Otaku’s door? What does he have that Lucifer wants?

Mammon: *whispering* There’s a record of the limited cursed edition of the TSL soundtrack in there, he absolutely loves it, so we just gotta ask Levi for it, it’ll be easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

MC: One, don’t ever say that again. Two, I don’t know how easy it’s gonna be since Levi wants nothing to do with me, and three... oh what the hell. *knocks on the door*

Levi: What’s the secret phrase?

MC: *looks at Mammon* Yeah, Mammon, this sure is gonna be lemon squeezy.

Mammon: Okay, Levi, let us in, it’s The Great Older Brother Mammon, and his pact slave.

MC: *leers at Mammon* You’re about to be the Great Fat-Lipped Mammon in a minute.

Mammon: *shied away a couple of steps* At least capitalize the T in the word The...

Levi: I am known by someone outside the door as the Ultimate Otaku, and to gain entry, you must say the secret phrase.

Mammon: *leers at Enn* So great, he was listening the whole time, and you’re calling me names?

MC: Ugh... umm... Rurichan is bae? Mammon’s an idiot? Enn’s a Normie?

Levi: ... while it is all true, bzzt! Wrong! Access denied.

Solomon: *appears behind them* Well, if it isn’t the celebrity and his newfound pet demon~.

MC: *jumps up, and holds Mammon close to them* Get the hell outta here, Goblin King, we ain’t wishing for nothing.

Solomon: *smirks* Sorry for scaring you, Enn. *knocks on the door* The fifth lord...

Levi: ...couldn’t keep his huge rod in his pants and took the Lord of Corruption’s wife to bed...

Solomon: And for the betrayal done unto his home...

Levi: The Lord of Corruption named him the Lord of Lechery, and cursed him with eternal unattainable climax. Secret phrase approved, welcome to my kingdom.

Solomon: *smirks* Peace out suckas. *hits the whip, and nae-naes backward into Levi’s room*

MC: *still holding Mammon protectively* So the Goblin King had an invitation?

Mammon: *blushing* ... You do know that was the secret phrase right?

MC: ... *knocks on the door* The Fifth Lord-

Levi: Bzzzt! The password has been reset! Bitch you thought! Next time know more about TSL before you try me, normie!

MC: *growls and bangs on the door* GAH! Go to Heaven you K-Pop Justin Bieber!

Mammon: Enn! ENN! Don’t, you don’t wanna get in trouble with Lucifer, not this early in the year... *pulls Enn away*

Levi: *with in the room* You see what I have to deal with? The violent life of the yucky otaku.

Solomon: Hmm...

*interviews*

Solomon: *bursts out laughing* PFFFTHAHAHAHA! K-Pop Justin B-Beihihiberrrr! Oh my god, I have to text that to Asmo... *starts texting* Man, as belligerent as Enn is, they sure know how to roast someone...

MC: Don’t worry, this makes day 4 that he hasn’t noticed. But... I have to find a way to get him to give me the record... God, I don’t know what it is with Levi, he just knows how to push my buttons... have I let him get to me?

—————

Mammon: So... why am I gonna be watching this with that human... and Beel... why are you here?

Beel: A Movie marathon means popcorn, and I had a craving.

Mammon: ... Of course you did.

MC: *comes in with a huge tub of popcorn* Alright, a huge tub of popcorn, extra butter and salt for Beel, a pack of chocolate coins for Mammon, and a sensible bowl of popcorn and soda for myself. Oh, I also made all of us slushees.

Mammon: *blinks* slushees? What are those?

MC: It’s cherry and blue raspberry.

Beel: *eyes widen* Why is it that you continue to amaze me with your snacks?

Mammon: Did you really just ask that question? Did YOU... just ask that question? The bigger question is how did you make these?

MC: Not important. Alright boys, 12 hours ain’t gonna watch itself, let’s get ready... The Tale of The Seven Lords... *presses Play*

————— The next day...

Levi: Human.

MC: *looks at Levi* Wow, look at who decided to grace us with his presence after spending his whole day in his room.

Levi: Don’t talk down to me just cause you have all the time in the world to do what you want, like having a TSL marathon. Totally not fair by the way.

Mammon: Wow, talk about nosy, were you spying on us?

Levi: No, Golden Moron, I heard it from Lucifer.

MC: First of all, don’t steal my joke, I worked hard for that, and second of all, for someone who minds his business, you sure do like knowing everyone else’s.

Levi: I don’t want to hear you talking especially since you are the ruler of not minding your business! Just cause you’re trying to suck up to me, doesn’t mean we’re gonna be all buddy-buddy. So get it through your thick head.

MC: Leviathan, I challenge you to a TSL Fan-Off.

Levi: *blinks* Excuse me? Are you serious? You really think that you, a human normie is gonna out-fan me?! LMMFAO! That’s not even a contest.

MC: Wow, I never knew you were a chicken, Levi.

Levi: ... what?

MC: I’m just saying if you had your own fursona, it would be a chicken. Ba-GAWK!

Levi: ... You take that back. I would N E V E R !

MC: Because you already are Levi, just cause you didn’t accept. An Otaku Chicken, I can see the Fanart now!

Levi: You know what, I was gonna spare you the embarrassment, but now I’m gonna make it my goal to destroy you in that Fan-off, human. When I’m finished with you, your time in the Devildom will be cut short. But, if by some odd miracle you best me, I’ll join Mammon as one of your pacts. Not like it’s ever gonna happen, I mean, I’ve only been following TSL all of a millennia. And that, compared to your 12 hour marathon, should speak to how much more knowledge I have of TSL than you. So let’s see who Fans off more. Student Council hall, today after school, and don’t chicken out.

MC: Heh, just I eat chicken doesn’t mean I am one. I’ll see you then.

*there was an intense stare down, until there was a loud cackling from upstairs*

Asmo: BWAHAHAHA! K-Pop Justin Beiber, I’m done! Solomon, I am done with you! AAAHH! YAAASS!

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

Stories Intertwined

Part 2 to Life Story, requested by anon (Your other request will be done soon!)

Summary: Alfie and his wife Marianne discuss having children after seeing Tommy Shelby. Incidentally, this leads to Marianne deciding she wants to get pregnant and Alfie knows just how to make that happen.

Smut ahoy!

Marianne heard Alfie talking to someone as she entered the home, she now shared with him after they wed a few months earlier. There was an unfamiliar car in the driveway, a nice one too. Going to find Alfie, she stopped in the sitting room. There, a slim man with dark hair and startling blue eyes was wandering around the balcony.

“Hello.” Marianne greeted hesitantly.

The man looked a little surprised to see her. But Alfie came walking in before he had a chance to say anything else.

“See you’ve met Tommy then, aye?” Alfie went to sit down. “Yeah, this is the fucking mad man who shot me.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Nice to meet you.”

“This is Marianne.” Alfie introduced. “Holds the key to me heart, doesn’t she?”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “A poet now, are you?” She teased.

Tommy watched the two interact with disbelief. It was one thing to find out Alfie had survived being shot in the face. It was another to find out that the man had found love out in Margate. “I’m glad to see Alfie hasn’t been lonely all this time. I was worried he might be without his dog.”

“How is Cyril?” Alfie wondered as he settled into his armchair.

“Good. He sleeps in Charlie’s room. Likes to chase the horses. Slobbers all over the house.” Tommy took out his cigarettes to strike one up.

Alfie looked chuffed. “Good, good. Glad he’s happy.”

“Is Charlie your son?” Marianne took out the medication that she’d gotten for Alfie’s chronic migraines. She set the pill bottle down on the side table closest to him.

“Yes.” Tommy nodded. “I have a daughter as well, Ruby.”

“Right, that’s right. I’d heard little titters that you’d remarried.” Alfie took notice of the medication but waited to take any pills. “But that’s what happens, innit? When you continue getting women up the duff, gotta marry them to protect your image, aye, Tommy boy?”

“Alfie.” Marianne scolded.

But Tommy just looked amused. “It’s alright. I’m accustomed to the way Mr. Solomons speaks.”

“Yeah, s’fucking eloquent, mate,” Alfie muttered. “Mari, will you please get me a fresh cup of tea? I need to speak business with Mr. Shelby.”

“Sure.” She kissed Alfie’s cheek before going into the kitchen.

Tommy waited until she was out of earshot. He gestured toward the door. “So?”

“What?”

“She’s beautiful,” Tommy remarked, only giving a subtle hint of his disbelief that Alfie had found someone so lovely.

“Yeah, mate, I’m only blind in one eye, not both of ‘em.” He muttered, trying not to sound jealous.

Tommy just shook his head. Leave it to Alfie to be so cavalier about his love life.

~~~~~~~~~

When Tommy left, Marianne returned to the sitting room. She set the tea down and picked up the bottle of tablets. “The chemist said you should take these every day, twice a day if you’re feeling worse.” She said.

“Alright, thanks, love.”

“Of course.” She smiled at him and went to curl up on the fainting couch near his armchair. “Have you met Tommy’s children?”

Alfie’s brow furrowed. “No, why?”

“I don’t know. They must be lovely. Especially if they have those blue eyes.” She shrugged.

“Aye?” He spluttered. “You were looking at his eyes?”

“Well, they aren’t very easy to not notice.” She replied calmly. When she saw the look of disbelief on her husband’s face, she scoffed. “Oh, please, Alfie. You’re telling me you’ve never noticed his eyes before?”

“Ain’t ‘bout that, it’s about me wife noticing his eyes. Asking ‘bout how cute his children must be, fucking hell.”

Marianne just giggled. “You’re such a bear sometimes.”

“M’not a fucking bear.” He muttered. He pretended not to be fond of his wife’s pet name.

“Yes, you are.” She stood up. “Getting jealous that I happened to notice your friend’s eyes.”

“Fine.” He set his tea down and stood up to grab his wife by the waist, pulling her back to his chest. “You little minx, are you looking for trouble?”

Marianne chewed on her lower lip. “Maybe…”

“You sure are. Tryna tell me something, are you?”

She smiled and turned around in his arms to face him. “I’m trying to tell you that we would have beautiful children.”

It was a bit shocking to him. Alfie merely assumed his wife wanted a little romp in the bedroom. “Yeah?”

She nodded with a shy look.

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “I think, now correct me if I’m wrong, that we need to fuck in order for that to happen.”

Marianne, who was used to the brash way her husband spoke, merely laughed. “You’re correct.”

“Good, right. Well, then. I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you ain’t gonna remember what color Tommy fucking Shelby’s eyes are.”

Her eyes widened. “Alfie…” She giggled, her stomach twisting with excitement. It had been a bit since they’d been so playful with each other.

He gave her a wolfish grin. “You blushing, Mrs. Solomons?” He always knew how to rile her up.

She gave him a look and started to push him back. “You know I’m not some blushing bride.”

“Come on, my little socialite?” He teased. But he let her back him right into his armchair.

“I’m married to a gangster.” She reminded him as he slumped back into his chair.

His hands braced against the arms, watching her with anticipation. “That is true. But you’re still a dainty little thing, ain’t ya?”

Her eyebrows raised. “You’re trying to provoke me.” She surmised.

“Just making observations.” He grinned.

“Hm.” She didn’t reply, just got to work undoing the buttons of her blouse.

Alfie watched, thoroughly pleased with the turn of events. He let his legs stretch out, reclined back as if he were a king sitting on his throne. Watching as his queen cast her clothes aside. His stomach twisted and he started to harden when she undid her bra and carelessly tossed it aside. “Still observing?”

“Yeah, love.” He replied in a husky voice, his eyes taking in every inch of her in the daylight.

“Good.” She gave him a coy look before turning around and leaving the sitting room.

The moment was suddenly interrupted and Alfie was left sitting there, looking a bit dumbfounded. “She wants to play then, aye?” He grumbled and stood up so he could follow.

Marianne smiled to herself when she heard his heavy footsteps coming after her. He caught up to her, mostly because she was taking her sweet time going down the hallway. In a fluid motion, he spun her around and pushed her up against the wall.

“You’ve poked the bear now, haven’t ya, love?” He growled playfully.

She bit her lip, her heart fluttering with excitement. “I’m just a dainty little thing.” She batted her eyelashes innocently.

He let out a low chuckle. “I may have misjudged you, Mrs. Solomons.” He murmured. She reached to start undoing his waistcoat but he snatched her hand. “Ah, ah.” He tutted and used one hand to force both hands over her head. “You may be coy, right, but you ain’t in charge.”

The playful look on Marianne’s face started to melt into pure need. “Alfie, don’t tease me.”

“You started it, Mari, m’fraid I’ve gotta finish it.” He kept her hands locked to the wall as he began to kiss her neck.

She made a needy sound as his beard dragged across her skin. When he grazed his teeth against her collarbone, her knees buckled.

“Lookit you.” He tilted her chin up to lock eyes with her. He rested the pad of his thumb on her bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. “Playing before, now I’ve already got ya begging.” He let go of her hands and she immediately went to undo his trousers. “Now you’re just being greedy, aye?” He stopped her yet again by picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

Marianne couldn’t help but giggle, thrilled he was being so naughty with her even if it was driving her mad.

On the way to the bedroom, Alfie playfully nipped her thigh. “You’re laughing now, love.” He shook his head. “Just you wait. I’ll have you unraveled in minutes.”

The promise made Marianne stifle a moan but it was cut off as he tossed her onto the bed. She lifted onto her elbows, watching him start to remove his rings at a painstakingly slow pace. Trying to move things along, she parted her legs to entice him.

He just smiled at her attempt. “What’s your hurry, aye?” He took his time unbuttoning his waistcoat and slipping his glasses off over his head.

“I want you.” She replied.

“Well, that’s been made clear to me, hasn’t it? But you wanted to play your games, so I’m just playing ‘long.” When he was left in just his shirt and trousers, he walked up to the bed and ran his hand up the inside of her leg.

Thinking she finally got her way, Marianne sighed softly and let her head hang back with victory.

But he stopped mid-thigh and withdrew his hand.

“Alfie!” She complained.

He looked positively delighted at her frustration. “Yes?”

She huffed and gave him a pout. “Will you just fuck me, please?”

“Such language!” He pretended to look aghast with a hand to his heart. “Dainty thing like you shouldn’t have such a mouth.” He scolded.

Knowing he was relentless and would tease her for hours if, given the chance, Marianne decided to try another tactic. “Fine, don’t. That’s your loss.” She sat up as if she were going to leave. But as she suspected, Alfie wasn’t going to let her slip away. He pulled his shirt over his head, stopping her in her tracks. Without a word, he made his way up her body, bracing his elbows against the bed, only letting a little bit of weight rest on her.

“You must be fucking soaked by now.” He hummed as he pressed chaste kisses to her side and up to her chest. While he distracted her with his mouth on her right breast, he slipped a hand to her center.

Marianne’s breath hitched when she felt his fingers just barely graze her. “Alfie…”

“Mhm.” He released his mouth off her nipple. “Jus’ as I suspected. Drenched.”

She was about to quip back at him when he sufficiently silenced her with two fingers slipping into her and his thumb pressed to her clit. Marianne released a moan of relief as he finally began to give her what she was craving. The stretch was agonizingly perfect. His fingers curled as he slowly worked her over, his arm flexing.

After being teased for so long, she already felt her toes start to curl. One hand gripped the bedsheets and the other knotted in his hair, lightly pulling.

Alfie felt her knees turn inward and knew she was close. So, he withdrew his fingers and lifted himself up off of her.

Marianne’s mouth popped open in disbelief and her eyes snapped open. “Alfie!” She protested.

He chuckled and stood up again. “My rules, love.” He reminded her as he stripped away the rest of his clothes. “You’re coming on my cock.”

Despite the frustration, Marianne realized he had never riled her up so well before. He knew exactly what he was doing and it made her heart race.

“You’re gonna work for it too.” He warned as he lay down on the bed.

His wife didn’t have to be told twice. She got up on her knees before straddling his hips.

Alfie kept her eyes locked on him as he put his hands behind his back. Marianne wanted to call him what he was, a smug bastard, but she knew that he might prolong their fun. She knew him well enough to know his stubbornness knew no bounds.

He let out a low hiss as she lined herself up and slowly began to sink down on him. “That’s it, fuckin’ hell.” He groaned in satisfaction.

Marianne splayed her hands over his chest to keep herself steady. Her legs trembled slightly as she adjusted to the feeling. No matter how many times they had sex, she always needed a moment to accept the utterly full feeling she got from him.

Alfie watched her eyelids flutter as she moaned. Her fingers pressed into his chest and she started to move her hips. It was intoxicating to watch her hips roll in a fluid motion, trying to find that sweet spot. He could tell immediately when she found it. She whimpered and squeezed him as she rocked in a shorter, faster rhythm.

“Fuck.” He grabbed her hips and sank her down further on his cock, earning a grateful cry from her.

He was losing her. Her head lolled back and a hand left his chest so she could squeeze her breast. It made him dizzy. But he hated not being in control, so he interrupted her bliss once again by sitting up and removing her from his lap.

“Alf-” Marianne’s disgruntlement was silenced again as he got her on her hands and knees. Quickly, her words of frustration morphed into moans as he thrust into her from behind. He wasted no time bringing her right up to the brink again. Feeling boneless, she sagged forward into the pillows, not bothering to be quiet. She knew he enjoyed hearing her appreciation.

“Thata girl.” He praised, keeping an iron hold on her hips. “Taking my cock so well.”

“Alfie…” She cried longingly.

He grunted as he grabbed onto the headboard for more traction.

It completely unraveled Marianne. She let out a sharp wail, her back arching, and her hands mindlessly latching onto the nearest thing.

Alfie pulled out and rocked back on his heels to watch her twitch and moan through the aftermath. When she let out a final sigh of completion, he guided her hips back so she was sitting up again. She melted back into him, her head laying on his shoulder with a dreamy look on her face.

“I ain’t done with you, love.” He murmured as he kissed her jaw.

“Oh Christ, Alfie, give me a moment to breathe.” She wheezed out a giggle.

He did. Laying her back down, he let his hands wander over every inch of her as she lazily kissed him.

. He played her like an instrument, knowing exactly how to kiss her, where to touch her, and what to say to her to tune her up. When he began to kiss and suck on her neck, she breathed out, “Please fuck me.” So, Alfie hitched her leg over his hip and slid back into her.

When her eyes shut from feeling so overwhelmed, he cupped her cheek. “Look at me.” He ordered in a low voice. “Want you to look at me, love.”

Marianne opened her eyes and whimpered softly. “Alfie. Oh, please, Alfie, I love you.” The words fell out of her lips without any thought.

That was the difference, Alfie found, between just fucking and making love to his wife. She fueled something deep inside of him that made him lose all sense of himself. As he thrust into her, his fingers bruising her thigh, he became almost drunk off of her. Every little sound she made, the feeling of her gripping him, it was pure ecstasy. Nothing else mattered. Only her.

He crushed his lips to hers when he felt his climaxing hit him like a train. Completely uncaring of the world around them, Alfie let out a guttural sound against her lips. He slammed his hips into her one more time before releasing into her. For a moment, his whole body felt numb. But then he began to regain feeling, the feeling of Marianne wrapped around him. The sound of her soft mewls as she came down from her high as well.

“Fucking hell.” He finally sighed and began to unlock his arms from around her. He flopped onto his back but Marianne cuddled right back up to him again. She tucked so perfectly in the crook of his arm, her legs tangled with his.

“I can’t even remember what Tommy’s last name was.”

Alfie laughed. “Told ya.”

She giggled and pulled him in for a long kiss.

Permanent tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

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justasparkwritings · 4 years

Text

The Word of Your Body: Holy {4}

Previous: You’re Gonna Be My Bruise

Pairing: Namjoon X Reader

Genre: Slice of Life

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Swearing, Pregnancy, Fatherhood, Questioning Religion

Listening: Holy by Justin Bieber

Master List

Namjoon didn’t believe in God, or god, or Him. He didn’t believe in a higher being, a power that created and decided the fate of all peoples. There was no Buddha, Allah, Brahma or Vishnu. No shabbat or Holi or Ramadan. He didn’t believe in any of it. Army was King and Queen, Empress over his fate and his life. He didn’t feel anything around Easter or Christmas, there was no desire to bow his head and pray over a tragedy. He didn’t feel guilty for every sin committed, or anytime an “oh my god!” crossed his lips. He didn’t feel like there was anything moving his life forward except for BTS and you.

When he had asked you to marry him, he felt an inkling of what prayer was. There was nothing he wanted more than to marry you, to create a family, to live his days intertwined with yours. He was positive you were going to say yes, but he found himself wishing and hoping for your answer amidst the ten seconds it took before you responded. He didn’t realize it was prayer, nor did he think his hope that you would say yes would be constituted as a form of worship. But on bended knee, in the few seconds before you answered, he offered it up.

Your resounding yes sounded like an alleluia on Easter morning, a sensation he had experienced with you a year prior. He didn’t understand it, but he felt it.

“I don’t understand why you participate in it,” He said, drinking his coffee at your favorite local breakfast spot the day after his first Easter service. The two of you had come to your home to spend the holiday with your family, which meant showing him where you grew up and yes, bringing him to church.

“Why?” You asked, sipping your coffee.

“It, it doesn’t make sense, why would you believe in something that’s so, cynical?” He wondered.

“The religion you’re speaking of and the religion I subscribe to are two different things,” You said.

“How?”

“Because the religion your speaking of is God as a vengeful, omniscient dictator, demanding sacrifices, demanding life, wanting fees and fines designed by man to prove your loyalty to capitalism, not to God. The God that I believe in, that I celebrate, is merciful. He fights for what is right and just, for equity, for love.”

“Like Sailor Moon,” He smiled.

“Without the talking cat,” You winked.

He hadn’t understood what you meant until you’d given him a copy of your favorite book, which detailed the life of Jesus and his wife, Ana. It wove the notions of Jesus as savior with Jesus as man and expanded his understanding of what a savior could mean. It wasn’t that he suddenly believed in religion, or had faith, because he didn’t. Reading your favorite book had only made him fall more in love with you and made his understanding of religion murky at best. He did admit that he could see its place in your life and accept it for what it was.

The second time Namjoon had prayed was when you took your last pregnancy test. Conceiving wasn’t easy, and he beat himself up every time a test came back negative. You tried to dissuade his fears, tell him that it took time, it wasn’t going to happen the first time you had unprotected sex. He knew he wanted kids; he knew he wanted kids with you. The inability to get you pregnant for two years, even with increased hormone treatments and meticulous care placed on both of your bodies, he felt like he was exhausting all options. Every choice he was making led to further disappointment when the test came back negative.

Why couldn’t his body do the one thing it was designed to do? Was it the dancing in tight pants? Was it working out too much? Riding his bike too often? Why weren’t different positions, different times of day, number of orgasms leading to the creation of life that was half you, half him?

He found himself scrolling through his phone, looking for any sort of solace when he came across a quote you had typed into his phone’s notes for when he felt nervous. You said it every time you had an interview or presentation, a Bible verse imprinted on you during adolescents. As he read the words, the idea of prayer came into his mind… he quickly looked up how to pray before closing his phone. Wasn’t the point that you didn’t need to have a formal way of asking God for help or guidance? Dejectedly, Namjoon bowed his head, closed his eyes and let the words flow out of him.

Namjoon’s heart soared when you took your first positive test. It nearly erupted at your first sonogram. The thump-thump-thump of your child’s heartbeat had been like angels singing. You had created a life; you were going to have a child together. Maybe with his eyes and your nose, or your heart and his mind… Either way, he had heard a chorus echoing every time he saw your bump and felt your baby kick.

He couldn’t reason with himself though, did he now owe God something because whomever it was had fulfilled his prayer? Would he have to baptize the baby, offer it up on an altar like Abraham or split it in two like Solomon? Was God holding a grudge against him now because he hadn’t exalted him fully?

He had borne his soul to you shortly after your eighth month. His conscious was weighing heavy.

“I need to tell you something,” He said, sitting next to you on the couch.

“Okay,” You said, setting your phone face down on the coffee table. “What is it?”

“I, I did something, and I don’t know what to do next,” He couldn’t tell if he was ashamed, nervous, or bashful. Would you laugh or be surprised or lovingly tell him it was okay?

“What did you do?” You asked, cautiously.

“I,” He sighed, “I prayed.” He glanced up at you through his lashes, gauging your response before proceeding.

“Okay, and?”

“What am I supposed to do now? Do I owe God something? Is our child a sacrifice?”

“Well, what did you pray for?” You asked.

“A baby.”

“Namjoon, look at me,” You said lightly.

“What?” He reluctantly lifted his gaze to lock with yours.

“I did too,” You smiled.

He felt the baptismal waters crash down on him.

“You did? Oh, fuck. That, that makes me feel better. Do, do we have to do anything?” He reached for your hands as you laughed. Your baby kicking at the movement in your body.

“We can say a prayer of thanksgiving, but that’s not really how God works.” You said.

“I’ve read articles, and books, and the expectation that you offer something up to God in thanksgiving is everywhere. He grants a prayer and you give thanks. I’ve spent the past seven months trying to figure out what that thanksgiving is supposed to be.”

“Namjoon, why is this bothering you? You don’t normally adhere to organized anything,” You said intertwining your fingers.

He nodded his head before speaking. “I’ve never prayed about anything, but I needed solace, someone to listen. I was scared to tell you or the guys because I don’t believe in it, but I did it anyway.”

“That’s what faith is. It’s throwing your hopes and fears up and believing someone will catch them. Be it fate, or karma… or God or Allah or Krishna… it’s hoping that something will move the chips in your favor, and knowing you’ll be okay if it doesn’t.” You answered, lightly squeezing his hand.

“Do I owe anything?” He whispered.

“No, that’s not how God works, at least in the evangelical sense. Just, be a great father, and an excellent husband, and your actions will show your thankfulness.” You said, moving his hand to rest on your belly, baby kicking excitedly as Namjoon’s hands held it gently.

“That’s it?”

“God doesn’t want for much, Namjoon.”

He had spent the next six weeks studying books on organized religion, alternating between writing lyrics for BTS, unpacking the idea of GOD, and preparing for the baby. He read every parenting book, went to every class and watched birth video after birth video. He took to your body like the gentiles took to John the Baptist, following its every inkling, tending to it with care. He prepared baths and scheduled massages. He gingerly placed lotion on your growing belly, and proceeded to rub natural remedies on your cervix, anything to make your eventual labor smoother. He kneaded your growing breasts and never hesitated to help you tie your shoes. God had smote the Egyptians for worshipping their golden calf, and here Namjoon was, on his knees, singing exaltations to your growing form.

The third and fourth time Namjoon prayed was when your water broke, and with it came an excessive amount of blood. You had rushed to the hospital and were diagnosed with late term placenta previa, a condition they should’ve caught earlier. Upon examination, you were rushed into a C-Section, and as he sat clutching your hand, tears streaming down your faces, Namjoon braced himself for the worst possible outcome. He prayed diligently, every second you were in surgery, every moment he wasn’t whispering to you or kissing your hair, he prayed.

God, Jesus, Allah, anyone… Please let my wife be safe. Please do not take her or our baby away from me. Please let us live our lives together. Please let them be okay, please, please, please.

He offered up penance, a term he’d learned reading about the evolution of the Catholic church. He’d offered up his career, his bandmates, his money, his time. Anything he could trade to keep you and your baby.

Namjoon had thought he’d heard a gospel chorus whenever he saw your bump or felt the baby kick. It wasn’t until his child took its first breath and let out a cry, that Namjoon realized the crescendo of expectation, fear, relief and hope raking through his brain was the angels, singing the Halleluiah Chorus, proclaiming the birth of the savior. He could see it, you Mary, the unassuming mother of the Christ child, him Joseph, a lowly craftsman, the doctors, the shepherds, guiding life into the world.

As your tears turned to joy, Namjoon muttered to himself, “Unto you a child is given.”

It was past midnight when Namjoon finally had a minute to breathe. He held your new baby securely in his arms and glanced at your peacefully sleeping form. The past 48 hours had been a whirlwind. You were recovering from a C-Section and unable to lift or move much. On the one hand, you were relieved. You were emotionally exhausted from a traumatic labor, and physically exhausted from undergoing a major operation. Bed rest was welcomed as your body began to heal, from the nine months it had spent growing life, and as your hormones began to fall and rebalance. On the other, you wanted to spend every second staring at your child, guessing what they’d be like, wondering if their eyes were shaped like your husband’s or yours. Smelling their head for that new baby, fresh on the planet scent, and memorizing every feature.

Namjoon was grateful, it gave him time to spend with your child, knees deep in fatherhood. He could carry your child everywhere, sing to it, love it, create a strong bond before he would eventually be pulled to tour. He was savoring every diaper, every midnight feed, every coo and cry. He couldn’t imagine life before your child was born, and he wanted to cherish every millisecond he had with you both.

He hummed to your baby quietly and again glanced at you, your milk had slowly started to come in and leak onto your shirt, or rather, a tour shirt of Namjoon’s that you’d kept every time he left home. He remembered the day you fought over him not having a t-shirt in your size and been pleasantly surprised when he had found this one in some drawer. Over the years it had become your comfort object. You kept it at his place indefinitely, and once you’d moved in together, had insisted he wear it before he went on tour to capture his musk. What had started as an argument over insecurities had blossomed into one of your favorite traditions.

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iimuchakk · 4 years

Text

Seven seas babies AU - The Journey

Hinahoho’s babies xxx

The five little beans and their father are so excited to go back to Sindria to see Kikiriku and the other’s it’s not even funny

If it wasn’t for all the commotion Hinahoho could of sworn he saw Ahanu smile...

Catori is already getting together her favorite clothes and weapons, whilst Aponi’s already packed

She’s desperate to get a tan

poor babies so pale

Of course Bodaway and Badzill are super duper excited!

People back in Sindria aren't use to their pranks and mischief

they’re pretty sure big bro Ja’far will appreciate the break from work to deal with them

unless he decides the break from work grants him permission to break their necks

wouldn’t be surprising

Turns out, Hinahoho didn’t realize how hard it was going to be keeping himself and five children all together on one ship despite its gigantic size

“Give me back my hair brush Catori!”

“No Aponi this is mine!”

“DADDY!”

Too much drama for the poor Imuchakk man!

The twin boys are no better

Every second he looks away he has a new note attached to his back

At least Ahanu is being calm at least

Actually, where is Ahanu?

“OH MY SOLOMON STOP WRESTLING SHARKS!”

He’s pretty sure if Rurumu was alive they’d be to scared to pull this crap

How long is the journey over seas again?

A few months?

oh great.

how fun.

Meanwhile, Kikiriku just drinks all the alcohol he can get his hands on

Knowing family time is not always fun time

but annoying time

Ja’far’s babies xxx

Rabi has never looked so hyperactive

and that’s bad

because he is usually hyperactive anyways

has only ever met Hinahoho’s family once when they were very young

not including Kikiriku, who he is rather close with

and that’s about it

Ja’far is just as excited but shows it in smaller doses

he’s told Rabi a bit about his old friends

though most of Rabi’s information comes from uncle sin and Drakon, who are less busy then his dad

Ja’far has to actually organize everyone's arrivals and their journeys through letter’s and magic circles, so it’s no surprise he’s tired

“No need to threat dad. I’m sure some magic trick’s will cheer you up!”

They don’t

they really don’t Rabi

So Rabi moves on

Trying to decide what color looks best on him since he’s pretty sure ginger hair is hard to match with

decide’s to go with pink, he feels it brings out his eyes

Sinbad applaud’s him on his extravagant choice

Kikiriku, Spyro and Sadiq don’t want to break his little heart and tell him he looks terrible so they just...smile(?)

Ja’far and wife-co decide an awkward thumbs up is probably best in this situation

At least the other’s arriving are all excepting...

Sinbad’s babies xxx

Does not care

Sadiq has no interest with meeting these people

From the stories he’s been hearing they’re all

tiny, flat chested

over grown

cocky, big headed

spineless, overly religious

boring, emotionless

crazy wizard people!

He already has enough of that with Rabi

boi needs no more of that craziness in his life

Sinbad’s been trying to get him excited

offering him Sharrkan’s guidance as a sword fighting teacher because -

“Your foot work really need’s work. Perhaps when you learn to control yourself better in battle, you can be as good as me~?”

g l a r e

nothing else really changes

goes about his day as usual

mentally curses the fact his dad is more clingy then usual

spends a lot of him time in the garden hiding in the bushes whilst everyone else’s happily awaits the arrival of the others

angrily chews on some near by leaves

Where’s Spyro when you need him?

Drakon’s babies xxx

Is really scared about meeting everyone

His parents speak really fondly of the old generals, and he’s worried his appearance might scare them

Tries to find something nice to wear that hide’s most of him away whilst still looking approachable

Saher laughs at him

points to Drakon

“If they can put up with his face then your looks will be easy to cope with.”

“Jee thanks mom.”

If you couldn’t tell that was sarcastic

Spyro also wants to show of a little

just a little...

and decides to make the training ground look nice and civilized so he can invite someone back to spar with

wants to show everyone he’s strong

since it’s the only quality he really like’s about himself

Is dragged to Rabi’s room to watch the boy practically cat walk his outfits

“Yes Rabi you look beautiful. CanIPleaseLeave?”

Can’t find Sadiq anywhere and is very worried

Until Kikiriku tell’s him he saw him chewing on plants that he’s fine

Spartos babies xxx

Very casual journey

wifu stays at home to keep everything in order

Spartos is practically pining after her as soon as the boat leaves the harbor

Elizabeth and Junior have never been more ashamed of their father’s pathetic display of sniveling affection.

He’s smitten.

“Why is he so insistent about wanting to hold her...?”

“Because Liz, he was a virgin so long before he met her it probably feels weird to know he’s going to have to wait at least a year before any more shenanigans.”

“THATS NOT TRUE I JUST REALLY LOVE YOUR MOTHER “ ;((((

Whole way there is basically cheering up Spartos instead of enjoying the journey to Sindria

Elizabeth will sing for her father from time to time and brings him food, and Spartos appreciates that she tries

Junior’s attempts are less subtle...

Tries to get his dad to do stupid thing’s to get his mind off his mother like:

A: Will dad appreciate rain dancing on a boat? Possibly causing a storm

B: Fishing in shark infested waters?

C: Drowning themselves so they don’t have to deal with his whining?

Junior is very excited to meet the people in his dad’s past life

really wants to spar with someone

oh please say someone wants to spar

Elizabeth is less excited, more curious then anything.

Shes desperate to meet the king of Sindria

Not for him himself, but rather his jewelry

Masrur’s babies xxx

Wives Razol and Rehema decided they don’t want to go

For them it’s basically a holiday

Masrur has the kids with him for a month or two whilst they get to do whatever they like?

See you Masrur

Have fun~

Sadi’s only ever met Ja’far and Sinbad

likes them a lot

would appreciate it if they would arm wrestle with her

how else would she prove shes better?

Very keen to show off

In-fact Masrur want’s her too

Something about showing two people swords and magic suck compared to the fanalis race? Whatever that means.

Angelou kind of just shrugs

He’s a lot like his dad after all

You think meeting some strangers is gonna excite him? Nah

Poor Angelou just wants to rest

Knows it’s basically going to be him baby sitting Ruby

His little sister is defiantly going to be trying to prove herself?

Ever seen a fanalis punch someone in the face?!

Yes?

Ever had a fanalis punch you in the face?!

No?

Stand still!!

Masrur should probably warn the generals about her...

And Dominic. Well Dominic’s just worried

Dosent want to let his father down

He’s in touch with his feminine side

Nervous that the generals will make fun of Masrur for it

Thinking of ways to make himself seem more manly

Sharrkans babies xxx

There is no easy way to put this

Ozymandias is a little brat

On the ship he’s constantly crying

Defiantly not a sea baby

It’s okay though

Sharrkan just loves listening to crying babies when HES TRYING TO SLEEP ITS GREAT HONESTLY HES SO NOT DYING INSIDE

Always checking constantly to make sure Ozymandias isn’t sick

He remembers when his mother grew ill and Ozymandias’ mother

He can’t let that happen

Every time he walks into a room his son throws a toy snake at him

9/10 it hits him in the face

He loves his son really...

In-fact, ever since he’s had Ozymandias he’s been compeltly ignoring women

Actually now that he thinks about it he wasn’t had...you know what in a long time

Has it changed!?

Is he even doing it right!?

Que baby crying

“SOMEONE HELP ME!”

Yamraiha’s babies xxx

Dosent want to travel through a magic circle incase she hurts the baby in her belly

Boat ride it is

Ever been stuck on a month boat ride with a pregnant woman?

LUCKY YOU!

If she’s craving a food that isn’t there, someone is about to have a broken neck

LET HER EAT DAMMIT!

Can’t get comfortable in any position and the rocking of the boat just makes her morning sickness worst

Accidentally threw up on someone’s shoes...

Lays in bed thinking about possible baby names but can’t come up with any she likes so proceeds to cry into her pillow.

Looks fat in everything

The generals are going to think she looks fat

Sharrkan is 100% going to laugh at her being fat

Que power nap

This trip better be worth it...

Pisti’s babies xxx

Tir is ready for take off

Pisti has already decked him out in feathers galore and won’t he stop trying to climb up on every single bird he sees

She can’t help but laugh at him

He’s such a bundle of energy

No trouble at all

“HES GONNA GET HIS EYES PECKED OUT SOMEONE STOP HIM!”

Okay maybe a bit of trouble

But nothing auntie Pisti can’t solve right!

Right?...

Pisti decides to fly over to Sindria because why not? It’s a lot quicker

To stop Tir from falling off she makes a harness that she straps around the chest of the bird so Tir is facing her the whole time

BIG MISTAKE

The whole way there he’s just gargling at her and poking her boobs

Then he cries when he realises how small they are

IF HE DOSENT WATCH HIS ATTITUDE SHE WILL THROW HIM OFF THE BIRD!

Debates if it’s even worth drinking in sindria because Tir is a full time job

Pisti? Not drinking?

She joins in with Tir’s cries

It’s a painful journey with a peacock coloured Tir alright...

71 notes · View notes

ayshaelshamayleh · 3 years

Text

What is Divine Will in The Arab Israeli Conflict & why is it essential to the current discourse?

The Arab-Israeli conflict has been ailing me extensively for the past few years. Not exactly for the reasons that are common amongst Muslim-born Arabs. But for reasons pertaining to contemplations about Divine Will. As a scholar of The Holy Bible -one who has studied the Quran, both having grown up in a cultural context rooted in it and having had to study it as a spiritual seeker in the process of finding a faith/creed - I am burdened by uncomfortable questions. As someone who believes in God, solidly, I am broken by my inability to understand God’s hand in this war that lives so close-by.

Let me explain my point-of-view: I experience the bible as true word of God, on a personal basis. I live with it. I study it. I model it. I am Arab. I live in Jordan. Israel roots its claim to Palestine in a biblical promise made by God, and narrated in The Holy Bible.

I find it important for there to be Arabs, accustomed with the bible, engaging (and in fact leading) the discourse about the Arab-Israeli conflict. Arabs who are interested in the conflict must know more about the biblical context, no matter what they themselves believe, so that the conversation is more productive than it has been. If your opponent is claiming God is doing this, and it is difficult to understand how it is possible for an entire country to come into existence out of nothing, the question of “is this by God’s will or not?” must be important for every believer or spiritual seeker on both sides. This way you will speak clearer, and more convincingly, using a language all sides understand and relate with. You should not deny religious belief systems are at the core of this conflict, for everyone involved. You can’t care how uncomfortable that process is, it’s uncomfortable for all of us. And if politics, especially in a land heavily documented to be God’s, is a physical manifestation of the design of the energetic realm; it is important for all those who really look for or believe in God, to ask: “what’s up?”, and to consider that a priority question in their outlook, should they be true believers, true thinkers, true citizens.

Let’s deal with what’s in the bible about this conflict. To summarize, in the bible the Jews are promised to be scattered amongst nations, and God’s subsequent redemption brings them back to a Promised Land. From Abraham to Joseph to Moses to Joshua to David, the journey that is the blue-print for the spiritual-Jew takes him/her from living somewhere, God approaching him/her and wanting a relationship, as part of a chosen people (chosen by random, not because they are better than the rest, but just to use them as a sign, a symbol, for His relationship with all of humanity at a certain point in history). So then, like the rest of us, they dance between committing to Him and wanting worldly desires and comfort, falling in the face of fear to truly trust Him, to follow His voice and wait in the silence, to move in obedience, to humble themselves as to have a sovereign God over them. They didn’t do that. As you and I don’t do that. As we all don’t do that.

So then, God -having had good things to give them, good things to promise them, good ways to love them (the quintessential Perfect Lover) - in pain scatters them (‘because it’s over’). He scatters them into Egypt through Joseph, where they move and are eventually enslaved. To taking them out of Egypt, through Moses, wandering a scorched land of a desert for 40 years, so that everyone dies but their remnant (a minority out of them that loved God back in action), who are then given their ‘promised land’. And in the historical bible this does indeed correspond to areas in historical Palestine and its surroundings. David becomes the King of Jerusalem. Solomon builds his temple. Then the cycle goes downhill again, by the time of Daniel, famous for surviving a cage of lions, the jews are back to enslavement in Babylon. The downhill cycle continues.

One important point to mention is that all throughout the Old Testament, the people of God are promised a Messiah, and to define “messiah” in lay terms: it is the someone or something through which we are saved, making life perfect and peaceful (it’s what every human dreams of and is alive in wait of - the perfect peaceful good life; the Messiah is the spiritual linguistic term that corresponds to the tool which brings about that life we dream of; the life-like heaven we pursue, the perfect state of us becoming perfectly ‘corrected’ and at peace with our existence).

Now the New Testament tells the story of the Messiah, who is named Christ Jesus (consider it a random linguistic term for now that corresponds to this ‘tool’). Just to avoid confusions, because life is such that we are prone to mistaking a new car or a promotion or a new wife for a messiah -I just confirm that if you want to delve into the realm of precise language and the human-Divine story in order to discern whether the life you have is the one promised to you by God (or if you are living in a land way off-track), the ‘Messiah’s’ character is historically embodied by a man who happened to go by the name Jesus, at random (just the case, neutral). The things you like and fall in love with remind you of the character of ‘Jesus’. If we are to use his name just as a name of a character that is uttered by some people on the route through which we get to that life-like heaven, it’s just that. The gospel gives you a full and short enough narrative about that character (philosophically, artistically, literarily, poetically, historically, literally) to be able to use it as a reference for your life in that practical and simple, manual-style way - should you be one interested in answers that come through such a pallet.

So this fella, Jesus, a jew himself, a son of the lineage of David, a Christ of God comes to settle the debt between God and humanity once and for all. This guy comes to give us a tabula rasa, not just that, but a permanent stay in the life-like heaven. In fact, he says he’ll be inviting you and preparing us to live practically and truly as children of God. Like we feel that way, experientially. Now as you can imagine, you turn out to be indebted to the God that you avoided, silenced, maybe cheated on, but who still shows up (from Adam to your name). So this ‘tool’ of a Messiah is necessary.

We fully understand the feelings of God on that front through the Book of Hosea (in the Old testament). The prophet of the times was called by God to get married to a cheating wife as a sign of the era and the feelings of God about humanity’s relationship with Him. The endless dancing, not settling, confusion, blurred lines, not making a decision about His presence and involvement, confusion, fear-of-commitment; mess. That wife, symbolizing the people of God, keeps running away into the hands of men (and man-made things), until she finds herself in a slave market. That slave market has modern iterations we are familiar with: selling our souls to jobs we hate, making money that is useless to spend on band aid solutions for the void and the endless pain of wanting life-like heaven but losing the way, insisting that is the only way it goes. That was Hosea’s wife; just like us. Wanting to skip investigating God’s design of life in favor of good times, and “busy-ness”.

Now if you’ve ever been cheated on, imagine that happening over and over for centuries with someone - the brokenness and ridiculousness and unfairness pile up, and Him showing up to create a life for you doesn’t mean the wounds went away or that His showing up is sustainable on an energetic level (think “accounting”). So (to be very simplistic in handling Christian philosophy) something needed to wash things over, resolve you, heal you, get a final fix so the two entities -you and God- could be ‘together’, compatible again, somehow -in friendship? In romance? Him, your Perfect Lover (each up to his capacity in His will). And that route that does that, mathematically and mythically and literally and linguistically, was randomly assigned the name Jesus.

So what would it take God to reconcile us to Him, according to the bible (the new testament)? The answer is counterintuitive and very difficult to accept or agree to believing in. Before I lay it out, there’s this parable in the new testament that Jesus narrates that might help. There was once a man (alternate man with “God”), who owned a vineyard, and worked very hard at it, dug the winepress, built a tower, and lent it out to some farmers (alternate farmers with “us”) and went to a faraway country (alternate that with “life”). When harvest time came, the man (/God) sent his servants (/friends that walk around in your life constantly annoying you about God or things that remind you of such) to get his share of the fruit as agreed. The farmers (/us) responded by refusing the owner’s end of the bargain, so they beat the servants (/annoying friends) and killed them, so the farmers kept the whole harvest to themselves (/as they wished). The man (/God) sent more servants again. The farmers (/us) killed them again. So then the owner of the vineyard sent his son (alternate that with “Jesus”), thinking the farmers (/us) would respect someone as close and dear and connected to him as an actual son in this ordeal, and that we would give this son the rightful share. When the farmers saw the son, they said to themselves this is the heir, come let us kill him and keep his inheritance to ourselves. And so they did, just that. Killed him to get the land (/life) for themselves with no accountability before its owner.

The proposition that is difficult to understand or agree to is that God, instead of finding a system that would make us pay for our unwise choices in our relationship with him, knew we couldn’t possibly manage to do that. So, be patient with me here and see it in mythical terms for a second; God paid the price of our wrongs by sending someone of Himself, allowing us to witness ourselves choose to kill him, and in response He showed us He resurrects, and everything not of His dies, to reach out to us for further correction again. The cycle of life keeps moving in that direction. God is here for good. At His own price. This is what makes “God” God, his capacity to love, counterintuitively. This personally moves me.

The Christian philosophy essentially says God made a truce that is light and easy. If you are drawn to the character of this son, if you love this one who lived loving Him and his neighbor, showing the way, forgiving, sacrificing himself; you are saved and you enter your life-like heaven. The alchemy that happens within you, evolving you, as you pursue your belief in him changes your character into a state able to find and enjoy heaven. Now this life-like heaven isn’t easy. It entails embodying a life like that of God’s son. Loving God. Loving people. Telling the truth, even when it’s difficult. Having people mistrust your goodness. And instead of you choosing to retaliate, choosing to expose your wounds and your pain. Humbling yourself before God and man by asking your Maker for the strength to be good in truthful terms, for the sake of the people’s love for God and God’s perfect love for people. You will be persecuted because of that. You will be whipped. You will struggle. Yet within that life, God Himself works miracles in you and through you. You witness them. You feel Him, real, and strong. You know God. You see Him. Daily. He knows you. Personally. And there’s nothing else you need after that point, apart from enjoying your faith. And thus, heaven is on earth. In that counterintuitive and difficult way.

Needless to say, what I’m describing above is not the ‘state’ of Israel. Let’s tie this back to the Arab-Israeli conflict. One of the reasons the historical Jesus was not accepted by the historical jews is because they were expecting a political King for a messiah. A man who controls life. Who leads them to physical prosperity; monetary, “real”. Christ was too ethereal for the historical jew. Too intangible. Promising a kingdom of heaven, not earth. So those who are jews in today’s world are an expression of a spiritual state that hasn’t accepted that the ‘messiah’ (the tool to life-like heaven) can come. They find it hard to grasp that after Adam and Eve’s fall from heaven on earth in pursuit of the physicality of life and its desires, the story ends with God coming down to earth to be with us. But that “being with us” is inside of us -I hate to break that, I know it’s an overstated statement. It demands letting go of the world enough to experience Him, rely on Him, see Him, find Him within the eye of the soul. Peace comes out of that silliness, that wherever your geo-coordinates may be in the universe, you are in God, and you work hard at maintaining that (through discernment of what is and is not God) and you suffer in His name. Faith isn’t a hobby. Faith is a full-life ordeal.

Let’s tie this back to the issue of the Arab-Israeli conflict again. What is going on has to do with another important belief that is so rare. Jews, christians AND muslims all agree on one thing: The world will end with the second coming of Christ (in fact, to Jerusalem). I don’t need to tell you that in today’s post-COVID era and post-Deal-of-the-Century, etc. reality, many feel -as secular as we may be- that the world keeps feeling like it’s ending. Now since all three creeds (i.e. the majority in this region) piously and unanimously agree that earth is destined towards a direction leading to the “arrival” of Christ, then all who are “correct” by their own standards, should be living in pursuit of knowing Christ, regardless of your religion. Your religion stipulates that, should you be a true believer.

Those who do not know Christ, if they believe in God or are asking questions about God, should learn about him. It is a part of your religion. Social taboos on that front should not concern you, because you claim to believe in God, not people. A life of faith demands a life of your own faith in action, in behavior, in practice - waking up in the morning and working on yourself to find more about your God everyday, about your ‘religion’ everyday. Asking the uncomfortable questions. Anything else is not belief, or creed, it is a facade and a lie. It collapses. If you are unsure there is a God, the most important goal in your life is to go find out whether there is. Don’t wait till a deathbed.

In my twenties I watched my father die over six years. His real and actual deathbed was fatally propped in our living room. And I watched. I watched him reckon with death. I watched his life be accounted for, both in the human realm and in the other one. I watched him apologize for wrongs he had done people. I watched him pray. I watched him pretend to have beings in the room other than my family. He was asked questions by them (very intelligent, logical and concise). He even gave answers he would turn to me and say were right or wrong or ones he was unsure of. He became so beautiful in his withering, the most loving essence of him palpably fragrant. I saw Christ. He was devotedly Muslim. Not in how he applied laws. But how he practiced, so humbly elegant, real faith is something so dense and real, but unseen, unacknowledged, unaccounted for. That humanity is the only one I wish to see.

Life takes time. People have different paces and different paths. Intrinsic in the choices they make about how they live life and what they name things (e.g. ‘Israel’), they express what they worship, you express what you believe is the right modem for life. You can’t control your neighbor. You can just worry about your stuff - another overstated statement, I know.

Here is a political state calling itself “Israel” that believes in doing good for itself and for its people, in hate and at the expense of what’s outside of itself. Is that wrong? They themselves say “no, not when it’s for our best and we are a chosen people”. In my contemplations about Divine Justice, I ache to understand how it is fair that God gives others a choice in how they treat things around them. How is God “God”, if He leaves it all to people? There seems to be no power behind it. Just suffering, and bleeding, and dying on a cross. That’s no God at all - I would imagine the spiritual jew and most Arabs would agree. Not impressive enough to warrant belief. Too passive, many people I’ve crossed paths with have said this.

As a person of faith, I struggle with those questions as well. I find myself stuck between a rock and a hard place. I experience God as so perfect as to give people choice, even in how they treat Him, and in how they treat others. He is magnanimous as to warrant freedom of speech and behavior. But don’t take that lightly, because you will win. So it’s on you in the smallest of moments. Life and how the people around you experience it depends on you and your choices. There is divine judgement but you are allowed to do whatever you wish, it has consequences, but that’s not the reason you do good. You do good because you believe in the intrinsic value of creating a good world (should you live in a life-like heaven, then that’s imperative for you). Doing good to avoid punishment points to a young state of faith, baby believer, there is much space for development. We work towards becoming adults in God.

I fail to understand what sort of life to lead to contribute to the resolution of problems that claim people’s lives around me. I feel the situation, it hurts me deeply. Life and God get confusing to the point of total implosion. To be real, since finding faith, the condition of my life is often signaled by whatever is happening in Jerusalem. If you want to know how I am, look up ‘Jerusalem’. Not because Jerusalem causes my pain at all, but my pain coincides with it, like truth. It’s like we’re in the same box of existence. Not by choice, I don’t even share any genetic roots to the place. I’m a random person of God. That state hasn’t been good.

I feel that an important response (in addition to the other responses out there) to what is happening in Sheikh Jarrah would be to compile resources again and get the people to live in a neighborhood that loves them. Man should not need to negotiate his value amongst the people who live close-by him. In all cases, and despite complexities, man must live amongst the people who are concerned about him, willing to carry him all the way through. I pray that that comes through, and if in any way I am helpful, I’m interested in collaborating.

I’ll end with this good thought by pastor and author Tim Keller:

“Anger is love in motion to deal with a threat toward that which you really love (to disintegrate the threat) – to see what your heart loves the most, you need only ask what you are defending.”

Worth the think.

#Jerusalem Bible Israel ArabIsraeliConflict

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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years

Text

The Doctor’s Fan Pt 2 (Gudako, Solomon/Romani, Mash)

Previously: 1

___

Years ago.

Over a decade really, he thought to himself.

All those years ago, when he had been a servant rather than a great human doctor who did miraculous and painstaking work to save those around who needed his aid, he’d encountered a rather silly and adorable girl. She’d flashed smiles at him, shown him what unbridled and unparalleled hope and humanity had looked like. Just when he’d thought that the girl would break down, she’d shown him everything he could have ever wanted to see in humanity.

“Alright cuties,” Magi*Mari called on the television screen. “We’re going to sing for my number one fan! That’s you, cutie!”

“Ah, I bet you are,” Romani purred, biting a large chunk of his great super Solo Idol sandwich as the woman roused her audience around to cheer her on into a new dance number. “I donated far too much money into you.”

To be fair, he invested heavily in idols these days.

Still looking for his fair maiden, he kept funding more and more newcoming idol groups, driving the industry almost into a multi-trillion dollar business. He’d certainly made it easier for newcomers to enter the market.

All this time, he’d waited, but in the end, there was just Magi*Mari.

“Alright! All together!”

Solomon- or rather- Romani cleared his throat, preparing to sing when he heard the doorknob turn. His eyes flew over at the first note of the song left his lips. He fell over in his horror, salami and condiment covering his doctor’s coat as he all but screeched in horror.

“Ah- There’s someone in here.”

“S-SOMEO- WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!”

He knew that face.

He knew that face so well that all he could do was stare at her and splutter in a mess of Dijon mustard and the rest of his sandwich and shame. The tawny eyes that could seer straight into the soul, the deep red hair that flowed like dusk covering the richest deposits of minerals in the most fertile of soils, and then there was the face, unrelentingly beautiful to the point where a man needed to hold her face in their hands. Her cheeks seemed to hollow out just right, almost showing exactly how to hold her face. There was enough roundness and the slightest of color to give foresight into how her face would look adorned with a deep blush.

God almighty in heaven-

Naamah!

“OH! IS THAT MAGI*MARI?”

Naamah-lookalike was hurrying forward, her Chaldean mage uniform jacket all but being tossed on the floor as she climbed onto the bed with him. Her hands grabbed at his tablet, watching the woman singing and dancing.

His ears were given privy to the strong harmony and vocals of what had to be the angels in heaven above. She must have known he was trying to support a child that had shown him hope for humanity. Maybe she found out that he was crushing on Magi*Mari and had killed him in a sudden and swift attack.

If that was the case, he was going to thank every damn angel and God himself for letting him be in heaven and hearing that voice.

His heart stuttered away, leaving him to clutch his chest and wheeze in his admiration for that voice. He was pretty sure he could feel sweat, but it might have been something else.

Could someone dead die again?

He was a doctor. He had been anyway. He should know these things-

“I didn’t think there was another fan around here!” The woman smiled at him, showing him the sunlight captured in the human body’s flash of teeth. “I’m Gudako Fujimaru. New Mage for Chaldea and the Mages Association top secret idol.”

She winked.

Maybe this was hell and the devil didn’t come to kill you until you reached for temptation.

“Gudako!”

Mash’s voice was here. Romani could feel the very depths of hell crawling forth to claim him, the devil laughing all the while as the door to the room open.

“Gudako have you- OH! Romani, what are you doing in here? What happened?”

“Romani loves idols! I’m so excited! I was just telling him that we should watch the performances together!”

Had she been telling him that? How long had he been thinking about this woman? Why did his eyes stray to her waist. Good god, what was wrong with him?

“You said you were going to show me your idol routine and stuff,” Mash told her. “We still on for that?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” Gudako laughed a little, turning to him as she turned off his tablet. “Romani, you want to join? I have a wicked routine if you want to see.”

“If you were that good, then why are you here?” Mash teased.

“Love, Mash. But that’s a story for another time. Come on.” She hopped up, grabbing something from the drawers in the wall.

He’d been in her room.

He’d been coming to her room for days, sitting on her bed and eating his sandwiches while watching idols.

He was a damn space invader-

“Romani?”

“I think he’s in shock,” Gudako told the girl, patting her shoulder. “Maybe go get him a glass of water and meet us over in the gym area. I’ll bring him with me. Poor guy probably thought the room was empty or something. I’d been noticing a big ass butt print on my bedding at night.”

“I-I’ll go with Mash,” he told them weakly.

“There we go! See? Romani’s fine, Mash!” The girl flashed him another smile and he held Mash’s arm when offered a hand up.

He needed to breathe.

Maybe away from the Naamah-lookalike.

“Give me just a moment and you’ll see my dance number. Be warned, I’m told if my magic were as strong as my dance moves, the ancient kings would be crawling out of the woodwork to steal me as a wife!”

#drabble #drabbles

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sparklingichigo · 3 years

Text

Drama Intensifies

Part 6

So as discussed, Haruka returns to her homeland while Ichigo and Solomon went on this time travel mission. Simeon hearing this turns worry and ask Haruka if he can come with her.

Simeon: Do you want me to go with you?

Haruka: I'll be okay. It's my homeland after all. Well if you wanna come I can help by disguising you as one of the bodyguards.

Simeon: Hmm.... that sounds like a good idea. Do I need to bring anything?

Haruka: No, it's okay. We'll get the stuff once we get there.

Simeon: Okay! Maybe I can let Luke live in the house of lamentation or the devildom's castle as this is happening.

Haruka: Perhaps....the devildom's castle. Barbatos is really close to Luke right?

Simeon: He is^^ I'll just put him there.

Luke: [eavesdropping the whole thing] Where are you guys going? Will it be dangerous? Are you guys gonna be okay? [tearing up]

Simeon: [hugs Luke] We'll be okay, we just need to go to Haruka's birthland for a while. Until then, you'll stay with Barbatos, okay?

Luke: I see... have a safe trip you two

Simeon: Of course^^ [pats Luke] I mean Ichigo is around as well isn't she. She can teach you more recipes from the human world!

Luke: Okay!

Unknown to them, Ichigo and Solomon just landed in Welsh in the year 540 which is when Merlin is currently second in hand to King Arthur and has a lot of Knight friends. Once they go there, one of the knights stopped them instantly.

Gwaine: Who are you people and why are you here?! What business do you have with Camelot?!

Solomon: uh... I'm the King of Israel, Solomon the wise!

Leon: Oh? A king? Did King Arthur invite you? Did he by chance know you?

Solomon: Most likely. Can we meet him by chance?

Gwaine: Of course, please come this way, your majesty.

Leon: Is this your wife by chance? [sees Ichigo]

Ichigo: ...

Solomon: Yes, actually! My 702nd wife!

Gwaine: Ah, quite a culture there^^

Ichigo: N-no... I'm certainly not his wife!

Solomon: Soon to be^^ [gives a glare so Ichigo would play along]

Ichigo: Y-yes! Soon to be, we're not married yet unfortunately^^

Gwaine: Well come this way, I'll let you meet the King and his second in hand, Merlin.

Solomon: Thank you so much, I appreciate it.

So the knights lead Ichigo and Solomon to the throne room where King Arthur and Merlin are there. His wife, Queen Guinevere is also there.

Arthur: Welcome to Camelot! What brings the wise king of Israel all the way to our kingdom?

Solomon: I'm in need of your assistance, King Arthur. My Kingdom is in great danger!

Arthur: Really? Before we continue, who is she? M'lady, can you please open your cloak?

Ichigo: Of course, your majesty. [opens the cloak]

Merlin: ...

Arthur: [smacks Merlin's shoulder] Yes, yes his wife is beautiful! My apologies, my second in hand is sadly single and in need of women!

Merlin: I'm not staring at her, your majesty, certainly not^^ [annoyed smile]

As Solomon and Arthur discuss what's happening somewhere this leaves Merlin and Ichigo outside the room. Ichigo finally can speak freely to her grandpa.

Ichigo: Grandpa, it's me!

Merlin: [sigh] Ichigo for the love of God! Why are you here?! Time travel is really dangerous!

Ichigo: I know! But we really need your help! Devildom is in dangerous and I can't even find you in my realm!

Merlin: That's because I went into hiding obviously. How do I know this? Duh, I read the future just like that King's butler....what's his name again....Barb....uh....

Ichigo: Barbatos!

Merlin: Yes, the prideful demon! Oh how much I hate his guts! He's so uptight and for what-

Ichigo: Well, from the future I read devil dom will be in danger and someone from the realm of darkness will attack soon!

Merlin: I see... there can only be one way. I'll find you in the future. I'll probably remember this by and find you.

Just in time, Solomon and Arthur got out of their room. The two of them seem to be getting along since they're both kings. Once they got out Arthur sees how close Merlin is to Ichigo so he starts to get suspicious.

Arthur: Hey, Solomon, I think my second in hand is flirting with your wife.

Solomon: Oh well, that tends to happen. She is really beautiful and all^^

Arthur: I'll go talk to them-

Solomon: Oh there's no need, my wife is strong enough to fight off flirty guys. Now watch.

Ichigo internally: Why are you still calling me your wife?! I'm literally not married to you!

Solomon internally: It's so that we won't get caught! Play along as if you're rejecting him!

Ichigo internally: Fine :))

Ichigo, unfortunately, has to disrespect her grandfather there and "rejects" him before going to Solomon's side. Arthur of course laughs at the sight and scolds Merlin for flirting with someone's "wife". Since the discussion is finished, Solomon and Ichigo finally return, luckily without anyone suspecting them. But once they got back, Arthur ends up searching about the Israel Kingdom and finding out that it's all gone.

Arthur: ...then who just visit us?!

Merlin: Perhaps a trickster, M'lord?

Arthur: A trickster?! Guards! Go and capture them before it's too late!

Gwaine: Yes, your majesty!

The guards all search for Ichigo and Solomon but unfortunately, they can't find them anywhere since the two of them have finally returned to the future.

#obeymefanfic #obeyme #roleplaybased

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rexcoatlarchive · 3 years

Text

I don't like sharing

When Rex first came to Chaldea he brought with him a few items from home. Clothes, books, games, a few plushies, his dog, among many other items. But two of these items were intrinsically linked to magecraft: first was a very large journal filled with knowledge of magecraft from almost every corner of the world. Second was a large green feather. Both of these were given to him by his ancestor/magecraft predecessor.

The feather was to be used as a Catalyst to summon a mighty warrior king that said ancestor served in his heyday, as it was originally a part of said king's headdress. Little did he know that that very king was the feathered serpent Quetzalcoatl. When Rex used said feather to summon a servant the mighty serpent was who came before him.

Since then many things had happened to the pair. Rex and the goddess Quetzalcoatl fell in love and formed a relationship. They had been separated for a time only for the young master to use that feather to reunite with her. Eventually they got even closer and got married. And then due to a mistake on Rex's part an alter of the goddess was created.

But one day Rex got curious. The feather summoned her two times without fail, but what would happen if he tried to use it while she was already summoned? Many catalysts could summon more then 1 servant, like a piece of the round table or part of the Argo could summon a multitude of powerful servants.

Of course if he wanted to satisfy his curiosity he'd want to clear it with his wife first.

Quetz: ...I'm not sure about that.

Rex: why not?

Quetz: well who'd even come? It's from one of my headdresses from back in the day, but I'm already here.

Rex: while that's a fair point, I'm still very curious. And even if it didn't work we'd still probably get something, the summoning would just ignore the feather at that point.

Quetz: si pero... I have a bad feeling for some reason.

Rex: ...well if you don't want to then we don't have to.

Quetz: ok...

Later that night in their room Quetz got the question stuck in her head. What would happen? Would another servant get summoned? Would nothing happen? Would another her get summoned? Could that even happen?

She decided that maybe she needed to know.

Quetz: mi amor, wake up

Rex: *sleepy* hmmm? What is it?

Quetz: I was thinking maybe we should try it out

Rex: try what?

Quetz: the feather, maybe we should try the summoning.

Rex: you sure?

Quetz: well... that conversation we had earlier got me thinking of so many possibilities and now I can't help but be curious.

Rex: ...I guess we could... if that's ok with you

The two went to the summoning room, and Rex placed the green feather near the center.

Rex: before we do this, you have to be 100% sure that you're OK with this. Because we don't know what'll happen, and we have to be prepared for whatever happens

Quetz: I understand mi amor, and I'm prepared for whatever comes out of there

Rex: alright, hope nothing bad happens

Rex pulled on the lever for the summoning and the circle starts up. The column of light bursts and the Caster class symbol is seen

Quetz: caster...

Rex: interesting

Once the column of light dissipated there stood an interesting figure. She was a tall figure, she wore clothing that matched up with Quetz's but more ornate, and she had body paint all over her.

???: Hola! It's so good to see you both again!

Quetz: you! How're you here?

???: I was summoned! You're right there next to the summoning device, I thought it was obvious.

Quetz: aaayyyye

The new figure was the other Quetzalcoatl that they had encountered other times on their adventure, first in Babylon then in Solomon and much more. Now she was properly summoned to Chaldea, but changed to Caster possibly because the original was already Rider.

Rex: well that's... interesting.

Quetz2: and it's so good to see you too cute little master!

Rex: yeah, it's nice to see you too I guess.

Quetz: please don't flirt too much. We're married now

Quetz2: really! That's amazing! Congratulations! I'm so happy for you two!

Quetz: ...gracias

Rex: so now you're finally properly summoned here as a true chaldea servant. It's so weird to think about, never considered that to happen.

Quetz2: well I guess it has to do with this catalyst *she says as she picks up the feather*

The original Quetzalcoatl went over and took the feather back.

Quetz: we're never using this again

Quetz2: eeehh, are you unhappy with seeing me?

Quetz: you're always flirting with mi amor. It's a bit irritating.

Quetz2: I'm sorry but I can't help it. Besides we're the same person and you fell in love with him, so doesn't that make perfect sense?

Quetz: .....hmmm

Rex: please relax mi corazon, she won't go too far

Quetz2: right, I'll respect you're marriage. You already know I'd never want to disrupt a marriage.

Quetz: good...

Then out of nowhere someone else came into the room

???: what the hell are you two doing this la- oh, it's her

Quetz2: who is this?

Quetz: ...she's my... alter, Kukulkan.

Quetz2: eeehhh?! How?!

Kuku: well wouldn't you like to know

Rex: I fucked up with using a grail and accidentally made her.

Kuku: I know it was a mistake but please talk about it with more tact master.

Rex: sorry...

Quetz2: so there's 3 Quetzalcoatls? Or is there anyone else that you've summoned?

Rex: no, but honestly it's nothing compared to some other servants

Kuku: yeah, there's too many damn Artorias here too.

A/N: so finally here's the next part of my multiclass series. I wasn't super sure how else to implement a Caster class Quetz, so I decided that one that acted as a priestess made sense as in myth Quetzalcoatl acted as a priest king in some stories. That's 6 classes for Quetz so far including the originals, tho one of those 6 still needs to be expanded on.